Back but I was never really gone or at least not to me.
It’s been a while since I last blogged. I’ve still been writing a lot but not here. I wanted to start writing sci-fi and fantasy, but it wasn’t going how I wanted, and I felt uninspired. Maybe it’s not my time to write stories yet. I wouldn’t say I’m giving up, but I feel way less inspired to write that way. I always love writing this way though. It feels a little vain, but I’m not sure that matters. I have a lot on my mind, and I think people like reading it. Last time I checked, around 100 folks were reading what I put here. I want to figure out how to write like this in a longer format and make that my project. Maybe it’s a cop-out since it’s so much easier for me to just express myself and talk that talk on the blog. U dig! I’d like to think it’s hard for others to do that, though. I’ll have to poll the audience. Is it easier for any of you to write a narrative than to write about your thoughts and ideas? What if your thoughts are your best ideas? Try that one out, huh (; I always hope what’s easy for me is hard for others. Why is that? When I do something well, in my heart, I think no one else can do it like me, knowing full well they can do it like me—and probably better. I was at the library, feeling good about a story I was writing, then this goofy-ass-looking-ass dude sat next to me and started typing hella quick. I leaned back to see what he was working on—dude had like 200 pages done, and it was called “Stars Out of Line” or something like that. I wasn’t discouraged, but I thought about how much time he’s sunk into that story, how much he loves writing, and how he’s probably way better than me. Side note—the problem with keeping up with trends or trying to be cool is you sacrifice time and mental energy that could go toward mastering something that matters. Look at guys who shred guitar the hardest—usually goofy looking dudes. To be fair, they’re not writing hit songs, usually math rock women don’t really mess with. Then look at someone like John Mayer or Prince—perfect balance. Maybe more Prince, but you get the idea. Notorious shredders and notorious hounds. How does one achieve that balance? Being cool, rocking frilly pirate shirts, crushing chicks, yet also mastering their craft? On the other hand, some have impeccable taste, moderate talent, and their end product is still cool. They keep it simple, raw, and it just rips. IE AC/DC and a bunch of other bands. Music is easiest for me to compare this to, but I bet we could draw parallels across all mediums. Maybe this side note was the main idea all along. I can’t stop considering balance—yin and yang. They can’t exist separately, only because the other does. We only conceive of night because day exists. Together they make an eternal round. How do I become that idea? How do I make my art that idea? How do I write like yin and yang? What’s the opposite of how I’m writing now? I think back to an earlier blog about class vs. swag. It’s a similar idea, but I’m not sure what opposites are battling here. I think of that meme: “There are two wolves inside you. One is gay. The other is also gay. You are gay.” Maybe we shouldn’t fight what we are. Maybe the two wolves inside us are gay but still different, and we embrace that. There are aspects of myself I love but sometimes wish would change. Most of the time, I love them. That makes my flavor more distinct. Others might find it grating. I think about Jesus—how people didn’t like him at first. People still don’t. I like him a lot. If a huge group doesn’t like something, does that make it bad or misunderstood? I’m spiraling, but back to my main point—I want balance in my art, especially my writing. Enough of both things, whatever they are. Reading this back, it almost feels like I’m yelling at you, which is cool. It feels real. Maybe that’s just because I wrote it. But too much can ruin something. When something’s too real, it bums people out. Most media is romanticized or idyllic in some way. That’s not bad. I just don’t want what I make to be so real it becomes a bummer. I want it to express things that feel far away, unreal, hopeful, or bright enough to hold attention and make someone forget something. The best stuff does that. But the inverse isn’t bad either—some things are so real they make us remember something we don’t like, and that can be good too. Maybe I’ll do that someday—maybe I already do it by accident. All I really know is how what I make makes me feel. I’m obsessed with balance right now. I wouldn’t say I’m all out of sorts, but I’m not as balanced as I want to be, especially in writing. That’s what discouraged me about fiction—I couldn’t tell how I wanted it to feel. I’ve talked about this before—writing has flavors. Sometimes it’s too serious, and the emotional beats and one-liners don’t hit right. But sometimes writing is super serious, real, and all of it hits right. That’s because the best cookies have a dash of salt. It’s still a cookie, a sweet treat, but without that bit of salt, it could be too sweet and mess it up. That’s the balance I’m talking about folks. Small things throw balance way off and ruin a whole thing. My problem writing stories was I kept thinking I was baking cookies, then 30 pages in, I realized I was grilling a steak. Then I figured, if I’m grilling a steak, I may as well do it—but by the time I get to the grill, I smell cookies in the oven. I wasn’t even at the point of adding a dash of salt to balance the sweet. So, I think I’ll return to my blog, try for twice a week, and figure out a long-form nonfiction project. I’ll work on the salty and sweet there because, frankly, this is easier, and I like it more.