novel excerpt, uncanny crapola

I'm trying to find the *perfect* excerpt to send in with my Hedgebrook applciation. And then in Chapter 27 I come across this bit of dialogue, between Alice, the main character, and Carrie, her sister. Talk about staring yourself in the face. Why should this be so surprising? It's not like somebody else wrote it.


“Jesus, Alice, how many times do I have to say this? We. Don’t. Mind.”

I ruffle the paper and cover half of my face with it. “You say that now, but come on, it’s got to have been a strain.”

“On you maybe. We’re happy to have you. You’ve gotta stop feeling as if you’re a burden, Al. As far as I can tell, the only person you’ve ever been a burden to is yourself.”

“Ouch,” I say, and smile at her, trying to brush off the comment. But her aim was true, and she hit me right in the heart. It’s not something I’ve ever wanted to admit out loud. But she’s right. I’m so worried about saying or doing the wrong thing at times that I settle for much less than I should, occupy too little room when much more was allotted for me. I completely close myself off to real experience.

In fairness, I think I’m often willing to make the initial jump. I rely on my instincts to tell me what to do, and I don’t hesitate when they tell me to stay or go or run or wait. It’s only after that initial movement that my brain starts to catch up with my gut reaction. And that’s when everything gets a little difficult. I second guess myself, wonder if I’ve done the wrong thing, incapacitate myself with indecision. I think about how I’d closed myself off to Jesse, how I thought he couldn’t handle anything I could tell him about my former life. Maybe Carrie is right. Maybe the only person who couldn’t handle it was me.