What Is My Capacity?
That’s the word imprinted on every writers’ heart. As if the word itself is made of celestial light and angels’ voices instead of scratches of ink.
It’s the ultimate dream to be mass produced and read by the entire world.
Before I faced the first page of Capacity, that very dream pushed me to the computer. It called to me each day, pulling me into my office like the tide to the moon. Which is appropriate considering I did most of my work before the sun came up.
This dream of being published demanded that I be relentless in my work, fighting for each scene—each scrap—of the story.
Fitting, since Capacity is about a girl named Marian who must fight for each scrap of her own dignity. A young girl whose country requires all eighteen-year-olds to compete against one another to see who is the greatest. To set apart the smartest and strongest, and set aside those who aren’t.
In essence, to see who has the most worth—and get rid of those who don’t.
It occurs to me now, as my husband finishes reading the manuscript, that it feels like my own Capacity is being measured.
A twinge of anxiety tightens in my chest as I begin to let others inside the private world I’ve been building for over a year—and to be evaluated according to its strength.
Will I be labeled Green, like those with the highest Capacities in Marian’s world? Will I be so-so like the Yellows? A subpar Red? Or completely excommunicated like those who fail the Capacity and get sent to the wasteland outside the city?
What is my Capacity? All I know is that whatever it may be, it can only be revealed when I share my work. So I will prepare as much as I possibly can, pray to avoid pure humiliation, and hope that one day I may find myself counted worthy by readers.
After all, it’s the dream to be mass produced and read by the entire world.