Today I got a key tattoo. I want to tell you why.
It is not, in fact (or at least, not exclusively), a key to the Archive. It’s based on a very real antique skeleton key I carry with me, a relic from a little market in the corner of Paris.
This key is the culmination of planning, of waiting, of earning.
This key is my author icon. Rather than a pen or quill, or set of letters, this is what marks me as a storyteller, a gatekeeper, providing my readers with the keys to new worlds, whether or not they choose to step through the door.
This key is my personal totem, so that all the doors in life–or at least, the right doors–will open for me.
And this key is my reward.
For moving to another country.
For finishing three books and surviving grad school at the same time.
It is my reminder that I can take risks, push myself, and succeed.
My reminder that I can take the hard door.