Forgive my mostly absent self here. I’ve been delving in deeply into my own mind to find what it is that I truly want to do, and how to deal with the everyday life that I’m forced to live like the rest of us. Conclusions have yet to be found, but I can tell you for sure the english language is a large part of what I enjoy and wish to be apart of.
Lately I’ve gotten very much back into reading, and have read a few books that I found interesting, but not necessarily good. Does that mean I wasted my time by reading such things? NO! One must read and understand what you dislike as well as reading and understanding what you do like to truly understand what it is that you wish to say, and how you wish to say it.
For my part I enjoy a bit of surrealism in certain narratives, but when the story falls apart around such nonsense it doesn’t do itself any favors when it is divorced from human reactions. Then again how I might portray myself in strange situations wouldn’t necessarily be considered normal either. So perhaps it is myself that isn’t able to think in a way different from my own, but based on the intensive and extensive reading I have done over the years I think I have a fair notion of what is realistic.
I’m not naming names or anything, that would be rude and perhaps taint what others might get from reading these books. For my own part I like that I’ve read these things, but that doesn’t mean I like what was written. It gives me a chance to look back at my own books, published and still in the process of completing. Could I have done something different here, or was what I said nonsense as well? Certainly I could change every word, make it so plain that anyone could understand, but would it be enjoyable to read, or to write?
This all being said is my own notion on how I write changing. In the beginning it was easy to put words after each other, but I’m finding it to be more taxing each time I sit in front of this computer. I’ve restricted myself in the way I write, and it is starting to show in my lack of production. At first I would just write, and things would always come to me. It was simple if not hard. Now it has become nigh impossible. And it is because I like how I’ve written in the past, so I continue to do as I’ve always done. Now I think I need to part ways with the stream of consciousness I had always used before.
In fact in the next book that I’m writing I’ve made an outline, something I’ve never done before. Usually I had a notion of what I wanted, and wrote to fill in the gaps. All of this contained within my head. I kept track easily enough what had happened, and what I wanted next, but for whatever reason this isn’t possible anymore. I’m not even sure what genre I want to be in now. I’m fascinated by the notion of writing something non-fiction, and that isn’t what I’m working on now.
I’ve thought of the idea of breaking away from this latest story and writing something about how I think the mind works… but I’m unsure if anyone would enjoy it. Then again am I writing for an audience, or am I writing for my own pleasure? I think I’ve tried to do both, but perhaps I need to have the pleasure in mind for myself now, as I’m unsure what it would be to please another with my words.
This revelation comes because of my continued delving into who Christopher Hitchens was. I find his articulation to be spectacular, if not confrontational. That has never been my own way, confrontational that is, I’d like to think of myself as at least a little articulate. This is not someone I’ve traditionally read, as I’ve mostly done my reading in fiction, science or fantasy. But there is something alluring about talking about reality head on instead of coating it all with some narrative of fiction. Hence my traditional non-confrontational ways. I just tried to lead you to what I’ve thought of, and allow you to come to the conclusions. But perhaps it’s time for a break.
Fiction is hard. You try to hide yourself in the middle of a world you create, and yet let parts of the real worlds shine though. A world where impossible or improbable things come to pass, and yet the characters have to seem real. Ludicrous. Spectacular. Nigh Impossible! And yet that is where I’ve found myself, and where I’ve enjoyed visiting with each page I’ve read throughout my life. Can I break away? Should I?
Again I’m left wondering what it is that I enjoy about writing. Is it just the act? Is it the story, or perhaps it’s the subjects I want to talk about while trying desperately to show my understanding. It’s like puzzling out a math problem, then going back and showing your work.
Until I know for sure what it is I want I’ll continue writing as I have, but I put notice now that I may change. Change is inevitable, but never is it known when or where it shall lead.
What I’ve published
Click here for a link to the book
Link to my author page on Amazon – hhttp://www.amazon.com/Steven-Oaks/e/B00MEGSEZ6
Link to the Deathship book in the CreateSpace store – https://www.createspace.com/5023771
Or you can help me out on Patreon. Again, thank you. https://www.patreon.com/StevenOaks
Update: A few hundred words scattered into the new novel. My latest book grows closer each day to being published.. likely it’ll be this month.
“Never be a spectator of unfairness or stupidity. The grave will supply plenty of time for silence.”
― Christopher Hitchens
– Steven Oaks
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