I think it’s time to start writing again. The itch to do so has been constant lately.
Even though I’m working on Theadia (and doing a soft-start for the remaster of The Persistence of Memories), I’ve been itching to just write something new. I’m not sure what just yet, and I’m not going to force it. That, and I’ve sort of resurrected some of my writing habits again — noting word count in the small black moleskine calendar notebook, for instance. I’m not doing it every day of course, I’m merely entering it every now and again when the thought and the temptation strikes.
I know I talk about this here every now and again, and I admit sometimes I’m like a broken record (a skipping cd? a corrupted FLAC?) but it’s been an ongoing process that needs constant adjustment and tweaking. We writers sometimes get all meta about our process and it’s usually because we’re trying to figure out why our processes are the way they are, why they sometimes no longer work, and what we need to do to change them. That kind of thing never ends, I’m afraid, but it’s something I’m used to at this point.
As always, it’s just a matter of doing it. Once I start, the rest comes easier.
It’s been a bit over three months since we moved into our New Digs, and things are finally settling and falling back into place. I might still have to remind myself that those month-end payments aren’t for rent anymore but mortgage, but other than that I’m happy that we’re here. We might be slightly further away from the shopping corridors but we’re two blocks from our community garden plot, a block away from a major bus route as well as a very large public park, and the neighborhood is thankfully much more peaceful. (Yes, even during recess for the kidlets at the school across the way.)
This is good timing, as it’s that time of year where I feel the need to change things up. And you know how I am in autumn: excited about the new music releases and contemplative about where I am and where I want to be. I’ve already made a lot of positive changes over the last few months — with room for improvement, of course — so it’s really just a matter of doing it at this point. Or not doing, depending on the situation. Some habits I find I just do not need nor want anymore. Some habits I’d like to revisit once more.
And what about writing? Well, the remaster of A Division of Souls is out and away, and I’m thinking of starting in on the remaster of The Persistence of Memories pretty soon. I’m also focusing on Theadia and it’s still looking good and on schedule for release sometime next year. But I can’t help but think: I’ve got a journal and a notebook gathering dust in my satchel right now, and my 750Words sign-in remains woefully ignored. I mean, I’ve worked on multiple stories at that same time before, so this is nothing new. I can certainly play around with writing extremely rough drafts of new ideas while spending most of my creative energies on the two main projects. And in the process, probably disconnect from a few IRL things that I don’t need to hyperfocus on.
And what better time to do it than during the season that works best for me?
I’m kind of in an interstitial space right now creatively, I think. I’ve mentioned before that I’ve stopped performing a lot of the habits I’d had over the last several years in Spare Oom — the whiteboard schedule, the logging of the word count, writing at 750Words, and so on. The main reason I stopped is that I wanted a fresh start here at the New Digs. For the most part it’s been a positive choice as I haven’t felt the stress of not hitting scheduled goals. It’s helped me focus on current projects with more clarity.
Not that I’m complaining, however. I like being here at this time, because it means that I’m breaking away from old habits and yet to forge new ones. I’m allowing myself to try new things and approach current projects in a slightly different way. Perhaps this is why I’m also allowing myself to indulge in a wave of comic reading on Hoopla these last several weeks…I get to try something new, see what inspires me.
I’ll be honest, I do occasionally feel the temptation to fire up the 750Words or do a bit of journaling, but I’ve been responding to that with well, you don’t HAVE to if you don’t really want to. Which, to me, means that if the only reason I want to do any of that is out of a sense of missing it, then I probably shouldn’t waste my time. If I’m going to return to the daily words or the journaling or anything else, I want to have a good creative reason. For the moment, I don’t want to split up my concentration on anything that’s mere folly right now, not when I want to put as much focus as I can on the Theadia project.
I suppose if this stage is anything like the one I had during the Belfry Years, this will (hopefully) mean that a lot of positive creativity will soon come out of it.
It’s been what, nearly three months since I’ve posted here? I posted a fly-by over at Walk in Silence not that long ago, but other than that I’ve been keeping quiet. Continuing with the job search, keeping occupied with light projects and reading, and running errands. Staying safe.
I could say I’ve been busy planning my next project, or I could say I’ve been doing research, but I’ll be honest, I haven’t been been doing much of anything creative at all. That was kind of by design, however. I desperately needed the break.
It was probably long overdue, come to think of it. I’d been angry and exhausted for months. The successful writing processes and habits I’d set up years ago were no longer working, and the more I tried to push to make them work again, the more frustrated I became. It had ceased to be enjoyable. It was a combination of a lot of things: Day Job frustration, lack of time, lack of new ideas, lack of interest, and too much repetition.
Other than following through with the post-production of Diwa & Kaffi, I decided to stop everything temporarily. The daily words, new novel projects, the blogs, even the daily personal journal. It was time to deal with Real Life stuff: leaving the Day Job of fourteen years, searching for new employment, staying healthy and avoiding COVID-19, and flushing out some old personal demons that were still kicking around. One month off has turned into multiple months, but this decision remains a positive one. Most of the heavy stress and frustration I was feeling earlier this year is almost completely gone.
I’m returning to some of these creative habits and processes again, but I’m purposely not tying them down into daily/weekly habits. I’ve taken the focus away from completion and competition and refocused on the creativity itself, where it’s supposed to be.
So. Am I working on anything right now? As a matter of fact, I am! Over the last few weeks I’ve been doing yet another reread of the Bridgetown Trilogy, for the sole reason that I’m revisiting that world for Book 4 in the Mendaihu Universe! [There may also be a secondary reason, in which Our Intrepid Author decides that maybe the trilogy needs a new re-edit and may work on this as a long-game side project.] I’m also working on an idea to gather the flash fiction I’ve written for the College Campus/D&K universe into a self-published collection. The waystation idea I’d come up with at the beginning of the year is still gestating at this point, so I’ll most likely get to that one if and when I have the time and inclination.
Will I return to blogging? Yes! Although I’m not sure how and when. Before I left the Day Job, I’d found a workable process in which I used 750 Words to write up rough drafts for these blog entries, so I may utilize that or something similar to it when I decide to fully return. I’ve wanted to revamp both blogs for a while now, and I’d like to focus a bit on that first before anything else.
In the meantime, stay safe, stay healthy, and keep reading and writing!
My notebook of choice for poetry and journaling for decades.
The Mead composition notebook hasn’t really changed much over the years. The stiff cardboard cover is bendable cardstock now, but the cover is still available in mottled black and white, still has 100 sheets bound by string and glue, and still fits perfectly in a backpack.
Back in early 1988, when Chris and Natan and I started up our band The Flying Bohemians, I’d tasked myself with writing song lyrics. Deeply inspired and influenced by the music we were listening to on college radio and as you can well imagine, most of it ended up being pastiches of songs by The Cure, The Smiths, and The Sisters of Mercy. There’s some decent stuff in there, given my age and experience, but for the most part it’s the kind of too-serious writing you’d expect from a seventeen-year-old stuck in a small town, waiting to escape.
Song lyrics and poetry became a perfect temporary escape for me then. During bouts of frustration and depression, I gave myself one rule: no boundaries. Let’s see how far we can take this. Mind you, that didn’t mean ‘let’s write the most vile/violent/gross/puerile shit just to get away with it’. I never wanted to go that route to begin with. No, it meant ‘let’s lay our heart and mind out and go deep, no matter how dark it gets.’ Sure, it’s a teenage cri de coeur and everyone’s done it, but I took my craft (if not the words) seriously. It was writing exercise to work on my frequency and consistency, and it was a mental exercise to purge my negative emotions. And they were a creative outlet when my fiction writing well had run dry.
This was an avenue that got me through a hell of a lot over the years. The frustrations of high school, the worse frustrations of college, and especially the dismal post-college years. I may not have always been consistent with it, and would sometimes go years between writing in these notebooks, but I never gave it up completely.
My history with personal journaling, on the other hand, had been spotty for years. For a brief time I used these same Mead notebooks for personal journals, starting in 1991. Most of it was voicing personal frustrations with school, friends, relationships, roommates, and lack of money. Later on, I’d write personal entries in regular notebooks here and there (I’ve been finding quite a few of them during my KonMari Tidy-Up of Spare Oom Project), but they never lasted more than a few pages. And once I joined Live Journal back in 2004, all that writing ended up online.
It wasn’t until New Year’s Day 2014 (after a brief false start a few months earlier) that I bought a 3-pack of Moleskine’s large cahier journal from our local bookstore that I made it a point to redirect that public display back into something personal again. Since that day I’ve been writing in those particular notebooks five days a week with very few exceptions; it’s what I do during my 9:30am break during the Day Job. I’m glad I took that step, as it made me refocus my creative output. My online writing morphed into the two blogs you’re now following. My personal issues now stay personal, just like they were all those years ago.
But what about the poetry? I’ll certainly have highly productive waves every now and again, but those are often few and far between. Those remain an exercise in emotional and mental purging, but they’re also done for the pleasure when the inspiration strikes. I’m working on trying to make this outlet more consistent, however.
Every now and again I’ll pull out one of these journals and poetry notebooks and read a few pages, just for the fun of it. Sometimes I’ll cringe, but more often I’ll let myself revisit the memories and emotions tied to these writings. It’s a way for me to remember what I’ve learned, reminders of where I was and where I’m going. Sometimes it’ll even inspire something new.
Welcome to Bridgetown 