Thanks, That Was....Fun?
I've been thinking a lot about writing, and why I haven't done much of it over the past few years. Part of it is time and the lack of it (we moved back to the Indianapolis area in early 2024 so I could help take care of my Mom, who has Alzheimer's). Another reason is that I've been channeling the creative energy I used to put into writing into making art, mainly painting and mixed media collage. You know what I love about art? It's fun and therapeutic in the way that writing used to be for me, but--unlike with writing--it's something you can show people and they can say things like, "Oh, cool!" Or, "Hmm, interesting." Or, "I don't get it, but okay."
 |
| "Welcome To Whoever You Are" analog collage 2025 |
 |
| "Follow the Gleam" analog collage 2025 |
 |
| "Cosmic Jam" analog collage 2025 |
The feedback is more immediate; it's something folks can look at, touch, and have an honest opinion about pretty quickly. Whereas when you write novels, everyone gets really enthusiastic and says things like, "Wow, you're an author? I can't wait to read your book when it's published!" And then sometimes they buy your work (but maybe don't read it, or at least they never mention it again) or they don't buy it, but still say things like, "You're really talented, keep it up," even though you suspect that they've never actually read anything you've written.
I'm not complaining, and I don't take it personally, because of course it takes more energy and commitment to sit down and read a book than to, say, look a painting. And seriously? What I've learned about any sort of creative endeavor--writing, painting, et cetera--is that the work is its own reward, and if you're not doing it for yourself, you're doing it for the wrong reasons. As cliched as that sentiment may sound, it's also true.
The one novel I've published (I have five other novels that are mostly written, just unfinished) does okay in terms of sales, especially considering that I'm an indie author. Even though Thanks, That Was Fun has been out in the world since 2011, I still get purchase notifications fairly regularly, and they still make me happy. There is something undeniably thrilling when strangers discover and buy your work, and I can't see myself ever getting blase about that.
Overall, I'm satisfied with Thanks. There are a few parts that make me cringe, and certain portions that I obsess over when I go back and read them, thinking, shit--if only I could revise that now! But for the most part, I'm proud of the novel.
Lately, for the first time in several years (since the pandemic, anyway), I've started writing again--just here and there, enough to get the old juices flowing. There are two of my WIPs (Works-In-Progress, i.e. the unfinished novels mentioned above) that I have decided to go back to, complete, and probably publish independently. The other ones? We'll see.
****************************************************************************
Recently I've been going through some of my old journals. Ever do that? WOW. Some of the more entertaining bits--to me, anyway--are the entries I wrote when I was chemically altered. Here is the part where I make the obligatory, "Kids? Don't do drugs," statement, or more accurately: "Do as I say, not as I did." These are a few scribblings from 2008, when I popped an Ambien late one night and thought it would be fun to make myself stay awake and write. (It probably was fun, but of course I don't remember it. I do remember gorging myself on carrots dipped in peanut butter, because Ambien makes you do shit like that, and also having a conversation with an imaginary person sitting next to me on the couch.) Anyway....
Better to live in a drunken state than a noodle variation of the oman is rate you know it's all the best when you go to the miller
Yeah, my little experiment with Ambien-induced writing didn't exactly produce anything earth-shattering (and this was by far the most coherent passage of the bunch). But I bet if Taylor Swift dropped one of her surprise albums featuring a track with the same lyrics, the media would eat that shit up with a spoon. I can see the reviews now:
Jezebel.com - "Taylor Swift seems to be channeling Arthur Rimbaud and Jim Morrison, and we are here for it!"
AV Club - "Taylor Swift's dark new release leans into the esoteric."
I could go on, but you get the idea.
An aside: it's funny how dated Ambien references are now. Like, it was such a mid-2000s drug to do, only seeming to exist in a very specific post-MySpace era, when Britney Spears was flashing her minge at the paparazzi, and we all thought Dubya would go down as the worst president in history.
