This is the 75th day since the period of darkness where I did not blog. Nearly three whole months since I lost contact with reality and fell into a stupor of depression. I did not intend to ever write again. Here I am today powering through a novel outline and gathering momentum to write that first tenuous draft. I write this all to reflect on the idea of rising from the ashes/being born again from those ashes. That idea grips me, because most of the stuff the forced me out of the writing game is still real and evident, but my perspective on all of it has shifted dramatically. In other words, it isn’t what you’re dealing with it is how you’re dealing with it.
One thing I’m dealing with is the loss of Shadowrun. I have lost the thread of that world, and until I find it within myself I will not be able to write in that world any further. Instead I am going to start looking at stand alone sci-fi pieces whenever I take a moment away from the fantasy novel. I’m going to try to hold two worlds in my head at once. So long as the first continues to grow.
When I quit writing I felt at that moment that I as done for good, and that felt good. It always feels good to be finished with something. Now I think I felt good because I no longer needed to worry about writing things that I had no interest in writing. That feeling is a part of what killed my drive to begin with. From the ashes me is about the passion project and about writing for the sake of writing. I want to set the words free and let them dance about the page in a rhythm only they can create. A rhythm that reverberates in my soul.
Man, I’m cheesy.