Mental Inventory

Today I spent a little time going through the many (too many?) stories and ideas I have accumulated over the years, ideas that have been percolating for far too long without being put to paper. Disregarding the ones that could barely be called more than seeds of ideas, I was still left with quite a few. Some are more fleshed out than others, of course, but each and every one are certainly fleshed out enough to be told. It makes me sad that I just can’t seem to find the will to it. Just do it, damn it! Oh well, here are the ones that are properly fleshed both in regards to story and characters, as well as the world they are in, which have been written down to some degree (at least a few chapters):

  • Epic Fantasy
  • Victorian Mystery/Horror
  • Contemporary Urban Supernatural
  • Dystopian Science Fiction

And these are the stories that are not quite as fleshed out and exists more in the mind than on paper:

  • Contemporary Urban Horror
  • Interwar Era Supernatural
  • Survivalist Science Fiction
  • Contemporary Mythological Horror
  • 18th Century Supernatural/Horror

So there is where I am at the moment; Trying to drag myself out of the apathetic mindset that keeps me from doing what I love. But where to begin? Most if not all of these ideas are brilliant, though it could be argued that I am somewhat biased on the matter. Joking aside, all of these ideas have good potential in my opinion. I would certainly read them if someone wrote them. Now I just need to work through this blockage of depression. And knowing myself, soon I will.

What’s the Point? – A Manifesto to Myself

What IS the point, exactly?

No, I am not talking about the meaning of it all – I think we all know that the answer to that is 42 – I am merely talking about the overall purpose of this blog, which I have discovered to be far easier to formulate in one’s head than on paper. And worse still, far easier to live up to in theory than in practice. But I digress.

I have always had a passion for writing, which stems back to the roleplaying days of my youth. Being the more creatively inclined, I often found myself in the role of game master, which meant I had to create adventures which I could then inflict upon my friends. As I grew older, these adventures became more and more elaborate to the point that they were more akin to short stories than roleplaying adventures. When I left my teen years behind me, roleplaying games slowly fell out of my life, but the passion to create stayed with me. In the years that followed I sporadically exercised my creative muscles, but it always lacked focus: an isolated chapter here, an intensive scene there, but never anything that could be considered a true story.

That all changed a few years back. A sudden surge of inspiration hit me, a surge of inspiration bigger even than the days of my youth. Whole worlds that I had created in my mind over the years began to amalgamate and coalesce, and suddenly whole stories started playing out in my head. Much was written, and equally as much was discarded, but with each axed idea the stories became clearer. The lack of focus was still there, especially in the way I jumped back and forth between stories, but undeniable progress was nonetheless made on a near daily basis. Then the writer’s block planted itself firmly in my mind. The past year or more I have hardly been able to write at all. It feels all bottled up, a sort of mental constipation.

And that leads us to this manifesto, which is simply just meant to be a reminder to myself. Strange perhaps to write to oneself in a medium such as this, but my mind has always been the most retentive when the ideas have been written down. With this blog I am hoping to unbottle that creativity, and reconquer my love of writing. Writing is often subject to a sort of domino effect; Writing something, anything, can easily lead to an urge to write more. A word becomes a sentence, a sentence becomes a paragraph, a paragraph becomes a chapter, and a chapter becomes a book. The trick is to harness that urge in the right direction. So my intentions are simply to write, to just talk about things I find interesting, to rekindle my love of the written word. The spark will come, I am quite sure of it. In time, I even hope to write the occasional short story here, just for the pure joy of it. Perhaps even dabble in some poetry if the mood strikes me.

Now I just need to remember to occasionally look back at this to see what my intentions are, or were. Hopefully I will, and if not, hopefully I will continue writing. Writing can change minds, and even if that mind is but yours, it is always worth it.

Note to self: FOCUS!