I sometimes wonder whether these essays where I explore wildly unrelated topics are successful, but then I consider that the purpose of writing and releasing these writings is succeeding on my terms: writing or reading to learn. Since I haven’t made any money with my writing, it’s easy letting financial self-doubt infect things. I might worry that I have to write about topics for broader appeal, but for me, I’d rather write what feels good.
Although I wrote about my thoughts on whether playing Pokémon LeafGreen made my life easier in my penultimate essay on this series, that essay was also concerned about the question of whether playing with a strategy guide would ruin surprises for me. No, since I appreciate narrative surprises more than gameplay surprises. Did playing this game make my life easier? Similarly, this question has perspective-dependent answers. I can answer no, and without narrative irony, yes.
As we approach the end of my playthrough of Pokémon LeafGreen, let’s consider that we begin with an innocent search for easier living. What we can objectively see is that these essays evolved into something I didn’t predict, as evidenced by their non-serial labeling. They went from searches for easier living into minor reclamations of what makes this hard life we live easier for me: writing fiction. So I did find that easier life… right?
Brainstorming new characters like Zhanna for Novel 02 in the Sammohini Arc of “The Story” has inspired interesting brainstorming thoughts. My fiction writing strength is building the narrative for how “X” goes to “Y,” rather than brainstorming ideas for “X” or “Y.” Those variables could contain any ideas. I’m just building the homes for those ideas to live within. Am I doing the reverse now by brainstorming “X” or “Y” then fitting them into the narrative?
Spoilers?: Minor [character, setting brainstorming]
WANNA CONSIDER THE SIGNIFICANCE OF KNOWING THE FAVORITE COLOR OF THE BARISTA THAT SERVES YOUR NEXT COFFEE THAT YOU’LL NEVER SEE AGAIN? CLICK HERE TO KEEP ON READING!
When you’re not scared of edits, there’s a certain pleasure that happens from seeing the edits that were made by your collaborators. You forget what you specifically wrote or changed. You look at what’s in front of you, and you think, ‘wow, this is really coming together!’ Today, I started editing a story taking place within ENDLESS WAR somewhere around 12:30pm and wrapped up my edits through chapter three at 2:12pm. Here are thsome thoughts.
I nearly went up against the Elite Four in Pokémon LeafGreen tonight. Sometimes, in life, this is a good thing, going into battle when you’re first viable enough to not be defeated outright. It’s how I wrote Novel 01. Inspired by NaNoWriMo, I could have said no if, after my two-week gestation period, I didn’t think I could viably write a 60,000-word novel somewhere in the Sammohini Arc of “The Story.” Other times, patience can help.
Writing is all about overcoming the fear of opinions from others. When you write for yourself, you can write whatever you want. When you share your writing with anyone, effective writing is taking the idea that’s in your head, packaging it in a way that anyone can understand, so they can let your ideas live, survive, and thrive in their minds. This requires constantly tearing apart your work to rebuild it. Don’t fear those criticisms.
I like the idea of exploring everything and everywhere I can. There will be some experiences I cannot have, but the more experiences, even if incomplete or partially-understood, can help explain the contexts of other experiences. For games like Jill of the Jungle, they show a sort of discipline for acquiring a new skill then returning back to practice that skill out in a new area, whether it’s platforming or clearing out your writing backlog…
Years spent going from thrift store to garage sale to wherever else I got all this clutter led me to forget about the potential for amazing everyday experiences, ranging from seeing thousands of cherry blossoms litter this pedestrian walkway to short story ideas like a crime drama interlude taking place at a dog park. My mad dash to downsize is to hurry through all this clutter so I can explore the world, free of baggage.
I realized a problem with my writing: I’ve reached a soft limit of how I can communicate. There’s a lot to unpack, so let’s analogize with my cheap “pawn shop special” bass: it fulfills all my limited needs when it comes to learning the basics. I can pluck strings and learn chord progression. I don’t mind tuning it whenever I’m serious about playing it. Now if I wanted to play with others or even professionally…