It’s the second day of writing the novel… I wrote 682 words today from 10:30 AM to 11 AM.
It feels different that writing an article or morning pages, it feels like the difference between exercising alone this past month and two weeks vs making exercise videos of exercising at home the past two days.
I posted the draft publicly on a very low traffic website, but I don’t think it’s whether or not it actually IS PUBLIC that matters compared to my internal perception of whether or not it IS PUBLIC. Meaning, somehow I’m expecting to publish or self publish the book I’m writing, vs the articles I write probably will be seen or read by a lot more people, yet they don’t have to be, they are intended for self growth and I publish them in case somehow they are interesting or helpful to others, they fulfill their purpose as they are, they are seeds of thought meant to be seeds, when they do blossom in someone’s mind, it is nice, it’s nicer, yet there is a lot of satisfaction in the simple process of the farming of these words irrespective of the yeild.
I suppose I have very little to no expectations for this writing, and high to impossible expectations for “a book”.
If this writing does no harm, and perhaps amuses someone or helps someone, that’s fantastic, because I already enjoyed writing it and learned a bit from the activity.
Whereas the book… it’s a different beast entirely.
Not that it has to be, no disrespect to authors who publish what is on their blogs like Allie Brosh, Rachel Stafford, Nomzamo Madide, that’s fine and I enjoy reading those books and blogs.
But I’m trying to fulfill a promice I made to my younger self to finish a particular kind of book, scifi that isn’t what I write.
I don’t know how far to take it, if this childish project in my adult life is worth the time it costs? But lately I seem to be ticking off the bucket list of my youth… is it a mid life crisis or just living with integrity to chase down the whales of the past and hunt them to extinction?
I’ve writen 369 words in about 20 minutes, 18 WPM of this kind of self reflection article vs 22 WPM of rough draft scifi. Which is interesting because the scifi felt much harder and this feels easier, but I’m not actually doing better at this, it isn’t actually easier.
I tell myself my life, my self, my writing is as good as it can be in the moment and I’ll move on from here, hand and hand with reality. About articles I tell myself that.
About books… it’s more emotional. I have a writers group, but I don’t want to show them the writing, I don’t want to do anything to stop my progress in this seedling phase. Maybe I don’t ever want to know if they like or don’t like it, because I don’t know that it’s for them, only 1/4 of them reads scifi, I doubt it’s for them, I think there is some reader out there that it is for… an intermediate level reader who likes mostly simple words with just a few fancy ones… someone who wants to get lost in the story, who has a whole summer to imagine the scenes I paint and color them their own way in their mind. I have an ideal reader out there somewhere. It’s not me, but it’s not my readers group either, it’s someone I don’t know, who wants to find a little bit of shelter in an imaginary world before carrying on in this one, someone who wants an emotional resting place from whatever their world is like.
Kind of like Stephen King I carry a lot of the characters and story line in my head and I feel like I’m letting it out more than choosing it.
I know it’s fiction, I know it’s a story, but I don’t know why it’s already formed in my mind when I write it, is that a trick of the brain? An illusion?
Did the third B25 Banana exercise video, this one is a 25 minute stretch day.
It’s interesting to me I’ve been drawing more, exercising the same (but in a banana and posting it), cooking more and writing more than ever before…
I was laughing in the second day of the exercise video, because there were a lot of kicks and punches, it looked like I was a banana in prison trying to train for an escape and fight a revolution or something… the banana costume exercise publicly posted videos have become my new normal. I guess I’m trying to lighten the mood a bit and also my sister in law missed having people to compete against while working out, so she “kind of” asked me to start B25 the banana costume T25 clone.
I don’t know if these activities will build my skills for something else, or just keep me sane and entertained, but I guess that’s enough anyways? Isn’t it? I think so.
My dad has been staying very busy, that inspired me a little bit. He lost dad, he could be lying in a puddle on the floor, but he isn’t and if I wanted to be I would, but I don’t really want to right now, maybe someday.
We are kind of type A at the core.
It doesn’t even feel good to go to a spa, if they were even open.
I went to a fancy spa once, because the boys at the dojo were sending the other girl for her birthday and no one else could go with her, so I went… semi-forced, and hated it. It was like being quarantined, but with steam.
Not to say I have my dad’s energy level… I don’t. He is “high gear,” “I’m more mid range.” My sister is “low gear,” I think my dad looks down on that, I don’t. I think it’s much more genetics than choice, though I could be wrong.
I don’t know if I’m crazier now or before.
During the world’s toughest race show one family was saying “Only the crazy ones are sane.”
In a mad world, only the mad are sane.– Akira Kurosawa
I’ve been though my own Phase A of the pandemic (comic version will be released Sunday), now I’m in my Phase B and I don’t know which one was more ridiculous, but it’s almost as if I’ve gotten used to the flavor of crazy.
So, just to clarify with myself, I’m working on my novel, posting exercise videos (that are very basic, but possibly will improve with time) and drawing with the tablet I said I would to make comics I said I would.
I have to agree with Ghandi that:
“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.”– Mahatma Gandhi
I think it’s the first time in my life my ambitious (simple as they are) could match up with my abilities, and it feels good. It feels good to be alright with myself as an ordinary woman, even as I seek my own special talent.
That duality of being unique, but also ordinary is tricky, yet to accept yourself as just a basic b*tch rather than a super one… is kind of amazing. Just to be comfortable in your skin, eating your own poorly cooked (but not poisonous) spaghetti with no shame, it’s kind of empowering, more than winning the nation championship, or getting some job, or being employee of the month, self acceptance is actually the most satisfying acceptance (that I’ve ever had).
So if you don’t have any stretches or yoga in your life maybe check out mine at the gym… because flexibility is something that can improve during a life span and why not?
But either way, I like you the way you are reader (very reading this post-y, that’s my favorite kind of person usually).