My wife, my muse, my Lady Talis said something to me yesterday that sank great roots into my psyche that will never be removed. She said that when she reads she wants to read for more than just entertainment, which is why she enjoys the work of Ted Chiang so thoroughly. This was not meant as an insult to my own work, though it is clear to us both that everything I have published has been for the purpose of entertainment alone and has no lasting sense of thought or consideration behind it. I write bad beach books. I write the stories one can easily consume, dispose of, and move on with life having tasted something akin to well-salted fast food. She said none of these things. They are true nonetheless.
As a partner, as an author, as a man with ego I have always wanted to write words worthy of her reading. I have yet to directly feel like anything I’ve written was worth her time or consideration. She reads it, she appreciates it, but I know it isn’t worth the energy of consumption to a person who feels as they do about the written word. I am no Chiang. I am no King. I am no S or A Corey. Not as of yet. The challenge implicit here is to write a thing worthy of being read. It is a challenge I have little choice but to accept.
How does one succeed? I believe the answer is in what I consume. If I continue reading crap I will continue writing it. The mind requires a diet much like the rest of the body. I have failed to nourish for years, which is why my ideas constantly feel old and faded like the jeans where the crotch threads have worn away to expose the rawest parts of yourself. I have an extremely long history of doing just enough to feel like I’ve done something, yet all the while have done nothing at all. It is about time I put a stop to it.
Some Thoughts:
- Absolutely Bonkers Headline of the Day: “Helicopter complicates morning drop-off at Tennessee school” In honor of the wife returning to the family farm for a bit, I thought I’d drop some local-ish crazy news. Tennessee gonna Tennessee.