Love Spiked Scene #3+4 updated!
I’ve been working on the world building of this story the last few weeks, fleshing out the magic systems, world, characters, and plot until it now feels familiar and solid, instead of the wisps of ideas I started with. My goal is to focus on this story going forward, cuz I don’t want to pay much attention to the world around me, and I don’t want to find myself ending another short story and needing to go through this arduous process all over again. I want to live in this story world for a while.
I’m not a great writer. I don’t think anyone will be shocked to hear it. But I like what I do, have fun making these worlds, characters, scenarios. It’s the not being good at it that holds me back the most because I don’t stretch myself as much as I would if I were confident to take on a difficult scene or scenario. It’s been harder with the brain fog and cerebral perfusion drops from the dysautonomia. Confidence is never going to happen because the basic things normal people take for granted in regards to their brains just isn’t there for me. I don’t get a solid baseline. Everything is in flux. My cognition can change completely from the beginning to the end of just typing this, and that’s just shit I have to accept and let go of. Me learning to be better at something isn’t going to matter when my brain won’t function to reflect that.
I try to tell myself it’s freeing. That I can just stop caring. But I can’t. It’s really distressing. Do I even have the judgement to know if what I wrote makes sense? Not all the time.
It’s been difficult to come back to writing just on this one problem. I started writing professionally when I first got sick; I was able to not see how bad my cognition was fluctuating for years and was willing to work around it, brute force through reality. It was only after 3 years of it flatlining that I realized that might never be an option again. So to dedicate my time to these long projects while knowing at any time I could just glitch out… Yeah, it’s been difficult to find that as a positive path.
But I’m having fun more than being frustrated, atm. I have no sense of security like I did when I first started, that naive belief that if I kept going it would figure itself out. I don’t believe that at all. So I have to do it for the love of what I’m doing, knowing it’s not going to be great, that it’s definitely not going to be consistent, and it’ll probably need a fuck ton of editing once the first draft is done, if I’m well enough to be able to finish it. And that’s just going to have to be enough.
Maybe needing certainty isn’t particularly honest to life in general. Security is an illusion… But it seems to be an important illusion.
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