I’ve begun writing my second novel. The going has been slow. The subject matter hits close to home, and it has been difficult to recollect my past. I do my best to write 1,000 words a day, but it feels as if I’m forcing it at times. The creative process can be arduous, but I just can’t seem to get into a “flow” state.
I’m going to switch up my routine, start exercising more, and hopefully find the right amount of caffeine to jump-start my mind without feeling jittery. Writing a novel (80,000 words) is no small task-no wonder creative types drink heavily. Just kidding…but really, I can certainly see why.
Without wine or pot, writing just doesn’t seem to have the same flair as before. It feels like a grind-perhaps because it is. I’m going to type out at least 80,000 words over the coming months and see what I end up with. As of right now, the story needs fleshing out and it is off to a slow start. I’m really hoping that it picks up speed as the process continues.
Better to work hard than to hope. Even though my work doesn’t feel adequate, I know that I am my own worst critic. For the time being, I’m just going to keep cranking out 1,000 words a day as best as I possibly can. The rest will take care of itself. Sculpting a masterpiece is never easy, and it will take trial and error (and possibly a third or fourth attempt at a novel) but, I’m convinced that with enough practice and determination, I’ll produce a publishable work. I’m not going to give up until that happens…at least that’s what I’m telling myself.
I continually feel as if I am floating above myself-as if I am watching myself from outside of my body. Is this normal? Is it healthy? There are times that I feel as if this level of self-awareness is a curse. How sweet it would be to be on autopilot; completely within the realm of the unconscious. Do most people experience the world on autopilot? Or are all of us predisposed to an experience that requires us to be permanently conscious actors? Are we in control? Or are we at the mercy of our subconscious?
I know that the unconscious mind is a determining factor in our daily lives. I know our conscious mind plays a role in that experience as well. But, to what degree? Are we conscious actors determining our fates with every “choice” that we make? Or are we destined for the hard-wiring of our brains? Is it free will? Or is it destiny?
I come back to that question time and time again. No matter how much philosophizing I take part in, that remains the fundamental question. Am I choosing to press these keys as I write? Or is my subconscious merely playing itself out in a predetermined algorithmic fashion? I like to think that I am the master of my fate and the captain of my soul…but so much of my life has come to pass without my choosing.
Maybe it is just part of the human condition. Maybe we are meant to have an idea of both free will and destiny because we are not meant to know. Maybe we are supposed to continually question the meaning of our existence, and the conundrum keeps us in the present. Isn’t that where we are supposed to be? Aren’t we supposed to be in the here and now? We can’t relive the past, and we have not yet experienced the future…the present is all we truly have.
I walk, I talk, I breathe, I eat, I sleep, I experience the world around me through a narrow bandwidth of sensations. Am I experiencing reality? Or am I reality experiencing itself? Who am I? Where am I? What am I? Why am I here? Will we ever know the answers to these questions? Am I merely an intelligent ape on a watery rock cursed to a short, brutish, and finite life? Or am I an infinite spirit having a human experience to further my consciousness, in order to resonate at a higher vibration, so that I may experience a more supreme level of reality? I like to tell myself the latter, but at this rate, either one could be true. Am I choosing my reality, or is my reality choosing me? No answers. Only questions.