I am writing a secret novel. I can’t talk about it. Or at least, I can’t reveal what it’s about.
I will reveal why it’s secret: because if I tell people about it, I’ll lose interest in finishing it. This has been my problem all my life.
I get a novel idea (I get them all the time, I can’t help it – I seem to have a brain that is wired for stories). I start writing it. I get excited, I tell people about it, I tell them about the characters.
And then I start losing interest, because … now I’ve already told the story. So it gets put away for a while until something sparks an interest in it again, and then the cycle repeats itself.
Then, on my last book, Forever And For Always, the premise and the details are so bizarre that I was embarrassed to tell people about it, so I kept my mouth shut. I would occasionally tell friends that I’m writing “a book about people having to fix physics, because someone broke it,” or “I’m writing a sequel to the last three books in the series.”
End result: I finished it in record time.
So then I started a new one, but I told most of my friends and family what it was about, and guess what? I lost interest. The book sits about 1/3 finished, gathering dust.
So now I have this fun idea for a new novel, and I’ve started writing it, and … I’m going to keep it a secret.
Let’s see if I can finish it before the end of the year.
Ten years ago today, I wrote the following in this very blog:
I knew there was a reason I really liked the enigmatic film “Donnie Darko.” It turns out writer/director Richard Kelly is a fellow Philip K. Dick fan. I stumbled across this today in a serendipitous moment whilst searching for something completely unrelated:
First-time writer/director Richard Kelly purposefully wanted “Donnie Darko” to be a genre-busting tale that would mean vastly different things to different people. Kelly offers this explanation of the film, “Maybe it’s the story of Holden Caulfield, resurrected in 1988 by the spirit of Philip K. Dick, who was always spinning yarns about schizophrenia and drug abuse breaking the barriers of space and time. Or it’s a black comedy foreshadowing the impact of the 1988 Presidential election, which is really the best way to explain it. But first and foremost, I wanted the film to be a piece of social satire that needs to be experienced and digested several times.”
Present day update:
This is still one of my favorite movies because I so admire the way it was written and put together. Also, here’s some sage writing advice from a more recent 2017 interview with Richard Kelly:
“My movies will take place either on the eve of an election, or in the aftermath of an election.” This device effectively timestamps the narrative in a unique place and time. It’s hard not to make a wormhole of our own between the time depicted in the movie and the current American climate following the 2016 U.S. presidential election.
Just like light is both a wave and a particle, and Schrodinger’s Cat is both alive and dead, we both exist, and don’t exist.
We are made of atoms, right? But atoms are made of smaller things, and those are made of even smaller things. In between all of these tiny things are enormous spaces — so much so that we are actually made up of mostly empty space — but even stranger, when you get down to the very smallest components that make up existence … there’s nothing there. It’s just a field of probability. It’s a soup of random, roiling strangeness.
At its very basic level, reality is about as tangible as a thought. And it’s all connected, it’s all one thing. It’s all a vast web of patterns of force.
That’s it. That’s all that’s there.
Nothing at this level separates us from anything else. We, and the rest of the Universe, are all one large pattern. If reality is like an ocean, we are waves on the surface.
Next time you’re angry at someone for cutting you off in traffic, remember, you and your car, and that other guy and his car, are all one thing.
You’re mad at yourself.
So calm down. Relax. Not only are we all in this together, but we are also everything that exists.
Oh, to be a bird! A flick of the feathers, a pump of the wings, and the Earth drops away. To surf the currents of air, to dive and swoop and soar! To land on food and carry it off into the sky, and not have to leave a tip. To take a vacation down south every winter without having to worry about time off requests. A tree is your bed, and the great wide open is your home.
Oh, to be a bird.
I wrote this in my journal on this day twelve years ago. I don’t remember writing it, and I don’t remember why I wrote it.
Out of the hundreds of thousands of available themes spread out across the entire Internet, the two I like best are actually default WordPress themes: “Twenty Seventeen” and “Twenty Sixteen.”
They’re full-featured, customizable, uncomplicated, free, and supported by WordPress.
I just spent three hours searching through thousands of free and paid themes, tried out nearly 30 of them, and found the complication and frustration level of the majority of them just didn’t make it worth the bother. I fell back to the good old minimalist Twenty Sixteen for this one (and I’ve been using Twenty Seventeen for my main website since … well, 2017.)
Images, or lack thereof, are what make a website. If I want something extremely customized I build it by hand.