A to Z Challenge: F is for Father

"Father"

When I said "Daddy," I spoke to you.

The you that tucked me in 

And washed the pain from my broken skin

When I fell, as children do. 

When I said "Father," that was you too.

That was the you of hidden histories
and bones and lost identities.

The you that ran my heart through.

"We didn't want to tell you,"

You whispered through your beer

As Mom pretended not to hear.

"You weren't there. What else could I do?"

My vision shifted, the world askew

made me Atlantic-sick,

the ocean you picked

To cross, the country you picked to woo.

And they took you.

Despite the pain at your feet

And the secrets you keep

They pretended you were someone new.

But who, really, are you?

Daddy, Father. Empty words

that echo the countless voices unheard

because you only did what people do.

Now they scream at me, too,

From the camps and the ovens

and the smoke that rose to heaven.

Am I as guilty as you?

This much I know is true:

You fell, as fathers do. 

Fixing the First Page

I attended a writer's conference recently and so much importance was placed on the first page. I understand that many agents completely reject a manuscript if the first page isn't amazing. Good isn't good enough.

So I've decided to rework mine.

I've written and rewritten the first page countless times already. I'm planning on moving the dialogue up. I plan on moving some of the description down (or completely eliminating it). But how do you know when it's finally good enough?

I feel like I've gotten to the point where I can't even see what I'm writing. I've read and reread the words so many times that they no longer have meaning. There's so little objectivity left in me that further editing seems impossible.

What do you do to make your first page sing? Do you feel like you've come up against a wall of words and have no idea where to go from there?

Sylvia Plath said that the worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. Truer words have never been said.

I think I'll make the small changes I can see and let go. I'll fix those little things and send it out into the world to fend for itself.