It’s quite mesmerizing. I am editing decades old work. The words I wrote were when I was half as old as I am now. Little did I know I’d be communicating with my future self.

I started writing The Miran in high school - literally. I’d sit with my notepad and scribble down my story in between lectures. This is back before laptops, tablets and, obviously, smart phones. I’d handwrite the whole thing, then go home to transcribe it on my mom’s mammoth desktop computer that sat on our dining room table. Instead of after school programs, hanging with friends or going to the mall, I’d go home to write.

The plot, the dialogue, the characters - everything feels very dated. But the essence is there. Some parts are cringeworthy:

<<“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she said, it wasn’t really a question.  “I mean, doing here.  I was a normal person yesterday,” she said, hesitating between words, letting out faint chuckles of apprehension as she spoke.”>>

Ugh, cringe! Now, my older more experienced self, will take this line and either delete it or edit it. But there is a certain fondness to reading something you wrote twenty years ago. Like a time capsule or a message in a bottle. I feel like I am literally talking to my old self.

What would the conversation be like?

“I see what you’re trying to do here,” my 40 year old self says, kindly.

“I don’t care if it’s bad, it’s just for me anyway,” my 18-year old self would reply.

“You never know. Let’s try reworking Sharle. Can she be older?”

“Sure, but I made her in high school, because I’m in high school.”

“I see. But I don’t think her character is that young. She is also wise beyond her years.”

Every time I make an edit or delete, I feel like I’m having this conversation with myself from the past. What a true gift it really is.