Would you believe the other morning I cried that HT wasn't done yet? I cried. It wasn't much, but clearly repressed frustrations bubbled up out of me, and I can tell you why.
Because it's turning into that person at the party whose presence is no longer appropriate... in a way. I mean it's like that type of person, but they're your family member - you love them and wish the best for them and they're invited for dinner whenever they like, but they're visiting a party you're having with friends who're your age, and you're certain they won't have as good a time as everybody else.
I was just thinking about how things have changed ever since I left PCC and left home. NIL is supposed to be around, CP4 is a fresh script even if it's for a long-lasting idea. I'm pushing forward and growing to love new things. I'm growing as an author and writing about older people. So I realized, uncomfortably, how desperately HT should've been finished within that time capsule. I love Phantom, I love that story, I want to make a movie of this story, I just think this novel ought to have been done when it was so big in my life, when it was more representative of me. Even while I finish it, the themes between the lines are that of me in 2007 - early 2011.
But I reflected upon why it hasn't been done - and I can't help but think the bigger reason is how thoroughly I was uprooted. It's true we should be able to bring a book with us anywhere and read it and submerge, but it's a little different when you must create cohesively that world in which to escape. Life's transience just fucked with me. It's a complicated project (and my only novel) - to write it, I needed to ground and center, and then be able to spread my mind to the sky. Ever since I lost my house, I can't ground, I can't open my mind. I feel like where I live is where I take refuge and hole myself up. I guess subconsciously I'm too stressed from change and lack of space to work out creative problems that big.
I have to wonder, even, if I'd still say it was inappropriate for the story to be around, if I could just write it at home, in my old neighborhood, and go to the park - the place which always helped me when I was blocked. I haven't been there in months and months.
Anyway, HT-angsting aside, I'm certain CP4 is not going to be written in one go, even though I feel sure I will have half done by New Years. I break up my time and try to keep away the stress, so January is up in the air. I'm looking ahead and wondering, actually...
What's scary is that next term will be a year from when I was conceiving NIL; when all the Nosferatu ideas were truly sprouting up. A year isn't much time; I'm just surprised it went by. I don't know if I'll do NIL, or if I'll pressure myself to do HT, or if I'll bust my ass homerunning CP4. OR, do I want to finish another AIW fic? At least I've got ideas instead of no ideas. Some writers are stumped all the time - meanwhile my entire creative career has been me trying to catch up with my blasted ideas.
*sigh*
One thing at a time, though. 100pgs of CP4.
2012 has been a very inspired year. That is a magnificent reality that I can only hope to maintain in 2013.
Night J-kittens,
J
Because it's turning into that person at the party whose presence is no longer appropriate... in a way. I mean it's like that type of person, but they're your family member - you love them and wish the best for them and they're invited for dinner whenever they like, but they're visiting a party you're having with friends who're your age, and you're certain they won't have as good a time as everybody else.
I was just thinking about how things have changed ever since I left PCC and left home. NIL is supposed to be around, CP4 is a fresh script even if it's for a long-lasting idea. I'm pushing forward and growing to love new things. I'm growing as an author and writing about older people. So I realized, uncomfortably, how desperately HT should've been finished within that time capsule. I love Phantom, I love that story, I want to make a movie of this story, I just think this novel ought to have been done when it was so big in my life, when it was more representative of me. Even while I finish it, the themes between the lines are that of me in 2007 - early 2011.
But I reflected upon why it hasn't been done - and I can't help but think the bigger reason is how thoroughly I was uprooted. It's true we should be able to bring a book with us anywhere and read it and submerge, but it's a little different when you must create cohesively that world in which to escape. Life's transience just fucked with me. It's a complicated project (and my only novel) - to write it, I needed to ground and center, and then be able to spread my mind to the sky. Ever since I lost my house, I can't ground, I can't open my mind. I feel like where I live is where I take refuge and hole myself up. I guess subconsciously I'm too stressed from change and lack of space to work out creative problems that big.
I have to wonder, even, if I'd still say it was inappropriate for the story to be around, if I could just write it at home, in my old neighborhood, and go to the park - the place which always helped me when I was blocked. I haven't been there in months and months.
Anyway, HT-angsting aside, I'm certain CP4 is not going to be written in one go, even though I feel sure I will have half done by New Years. I break up my time and try to keep away the stress, so January is up in the air. I'm looking ahead and wondering, actually...
What's scary is that next term will be a year from when I was conceiving NIL; when all the Nosferatu ideas were truly sprouting up. A year isn't much time; I'm just surprised it went by. I don't know if I'll do NIL, or if I'll pressure myself to do HT, or if I'll bust my ass homerunning CP4. OR, do I want to finish another AIW fic? At least I've got ideas instead of no ideas. Some writers are stumped all the time - meanwhile my entire creative career has been me trying to catch up with my blasted ideas.
*sigh*
One thing at a time, though. 100pgs of CP4.
2012 has been a very inspired year. That is a magnificent reality that I can only hope to maintain in 2013.
Night J-kittens,
J
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