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I’ve known it forever: There are a million stories trapped inside my memory, and at a touch of pen to paper they will flood onto the page. In times like that you hardly think–you just write.

I am at my desk. I stare at the row of books on my shelf, contemplating my fate. I stare at a mishmash of lined papers scattered around my desk. They are filled with the messy scribbles of my handwriting. I’m hoping they will look prettier when I type them onto the screen.

Some professors say I am aiming too high, others want me to submit for publication when my story is not yet ready, and yet others give me the encouragement and advice I need to keep on. Sometimes the professors give me a mishmash of all those things.

I’ve learned how to keep on; to fail, to pick myself up again, and to have another go at it. One of my friends once told me I’m dedicated; it’s quite true. I rarely give up.

Life is like walking a tightrope. You cannot go back, I tell myself. You must go forward. Leave the past behind- move on. Don’t give way to fear, the tightrope must not shake. Always keep your head; always keep your balance, no daydreaming.

You must be strong, you must hold on, you cannot give up; you are not allowed to fail. Each step is small, each is careful—though whether out of fear or caution, I can never tell. I am a perfectionist, God help me.

Sometimes I wonder why I’ve chosen this tightrope; there are so many tightropes I could walk. But all I know is I must go on. Jesus is ahead of me; my eyes are fixed on Him.

One step at a time.

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