The struggle is real.
That’s the meme everyone likes to repeat, isn’t it? I hear people saying it for silly shit, ‘issues’ that really aren’t. Our language is devolving into something I hardly recognize, and my soul laments! I need to read more books, all kinds of them. When I’m done reading Stephen King’s Wolves of the Calla, in the Dark Tower Series (number 5), I plan to read Moby Dick. When I’m done that I swear I’ll finish reading the Lord of The Rings trilogy. Why? Well because it’s important to expose my brain to as many words and ideas as possible. Because I’m a writer, and that’s one thing us writers need to be able to do: expose by reading.
Today’s the eclipse, the big solar one everyone’s been talking about. 8/21/2017. A lot of co-workers plan to go out and see it. A lot of friends I know plan to watch it as well. I personally won’t be bothering with that. I think it’s a good time to be inward drawn and paying attention to what’s really important in my life. For me that’s writing the next thing. For others, well I don’t know exactly.
I’ve been writing several different pieces of fiction while waiting for my wife to start editing the nearly final draft of the Owen Hunter Series, the last book in this trilogy, and hopefully three out of many in the actual series. Most of the rest after this point will be standalone novels, and threaded back to the world of Owen Hunter. That’s the plan for that. And I also intend to write a great deal more stories that aren’t related at all.
Writing and reading. Eventually I’ll figure out who my audience really is and promote the stuff I have available to them, assuming it will fill a void for them to enjoy for reading purposes. No easy task, that. Yet it’s what’s needed in this day and age. More art. More creativity, more of practically everything related to constructivism.
I do worry though. I’m not sure I’ll ever make a career from my habit–I’m not convinced that I absolutely have to. What I am convinced of is that I have to tell the stories in my head to whomever will listen, or read. That’s how this works. Painters have to paint, dancers have to dance, and writer’s gotta write.
The struggle is, as always, about timing. When do we write? When do we read? When do we publish? When do we have the time to do the things we are compelled to do?
I can’t answer those questions because I think they are only useful on the days in which we’re around to ask them.
Here’s a list of my TO BE READ list (not in any particular order). It’s pretty long.
- Moby Dick
- Lord of the Rings trilogy
- Sand (Hugh Howey)
- Hillbilly Elegy (Vance)
- The Complete Jules Verne Collection
- The Complete H.G. Wells collection
- The Complete Charles Dickens collection
- The Complete Sherlock Holmes (Doyle)
- Afterlife (Sakey)
- 1984 (Wells) This is my 2nd time.
There will be many more, but if I can get through the above before I’m 45, that’ll be quite a feat. Not to mention I have a lot of stories I want to write and eventually, when they’re polished enough, share.
I began this blog post on the day of the eclipse and have finished it at the end of the week on Friday the 25th, August.
To borrow an idea from a famous writer; finishing what you start is successful.