Not long ago, I pulled out a piece of writing I’d started over a year ago that I’d abandoned shortly after realizing it just didn’t work. I thought maybe taking another look at it, so long after I’d actually written it, would help me see it in a different light.
I started to read and quickly realized what the problem was. I didn’t start the story in the right place.
Jen circled the man, tracing his body from shoulder to shoulder as she paced. “Do you even believe what Molloy believes in anymore? Or do you just fight for him so your family has protection? Do you even know what you’re fighting for? No, you don’t. Otherwise you would know who we are, who I am. Don’t you question him? question why you’ve had to capture two defenseless teenage girls, why you’ve had to do kill all those defenseless people out there? Think about it, really think about it. And then answer me, who are you?”