revisiting places lost
This has been a big day for me. I wrote a lot, especially the Keyman (who won’t be Keyman after all, but that’s beside the point), and did some 500+ words on Vega, and arrived at the short sharp understanding of what my NaNoWriMo novel will really be about, something that has bugged me for years…and now when I am not *personally* bugged by it (and yes, I’m calling it “IT” because there’s no name for it yet, nothing that I could put my finger on) I think I could be able to write about that in a way that’s healing for me and possibly maybe delivers some healing to others.
Or maybe it’s not about healing at all. Healing is a tricky word, something that’s seen as a beneficial thing, but, in truth, there may be nothing good or beneficial or uplifting about it.
The one resolution I’ve arrived at is to write truthfully and from how I have experienced the world or how I could render that experience, not from the canons of genre or convenience or what’s right and what’s wrong, according to semi-obscure market rules. I had toyed with the thought to never try to sell that piece anyway, so I might as well stay by that decision, only on different grounds.
Besides, I sorta know that I wouldn’t sell anything anyway for next two years or so, thus my concerns about saleability of that thing are unfounded anyway. It’s crazy how convoluted can one’s thinking become when faced with outside rules in combination with inner fear.
And, by the way, in the same vein: I think it’s sorta ridiculous when I, who see being a writer as an ultimate quest for inner freedom, become frozen by rules of what I should or shouldn’t do “as a writer”. It’s all fine and cool as long as I understand why and can relate to these rules (like being polite or having common sense, or writing well instead of puking all over the screen), but when I start thinking “damn, why did I choose to be a writer, now I have to talk to people like THIS and I shouldn’t ever do THAT and if I make THIS MISTAKE, I’ll ruin myself as a writer and all my efforts will go down the drain”, well, it’s time to stop and regroup and remember why I chose this path. Surely not because I wanted to freeze in fear every time I write something.
So yea. I laugh in the face of fear, seek it out and look in it’s eyes, and ask, how have you been, old buddy?
