Jul. 31st, 2012

megwrites: A moon rising above a darkened landscape in front of a starry night sky. (moonrise)
So, I had a thought while I was singing a cat themed version of "Can't Buy Me Love" to my cat, as you do.

Maybe one of my problems with writing lately isn't so much "oh god, is my work important enough to be worth writing at all", but that I've got some deeper things to think about.

Actually, let me rewind. Before the part where I belted out a Beatles tune at one of my pets, my mental health took an uptick. Cut for talk of my mental health and meds and brain stuff and depression/anxiety and brief mention of suicidal ideation. )


All this contemplation has lead me to ask some questions and think of some things.

First, is that I think my writing is stymied by the conflict between wanting to really pour myself into my writing, to really own it and turn it into my writing and the belief that I and my experiences and who I am are not worthy of being in a story much less a story that other people will ever see. That's a mix of depression, I think, and good old fashioned self consciousness.

Second, I think I haven't answered some fundamental questions. One being, "Why do I love what I love? Why am I drawn to write certain things?"

For example: I love paranormal romance stories about sexy angels and their tempestuous, somewhat unhealthy relationships with supernaturally powered women? But why do I love it. Why do I love it enough to want to write my own story of that sort? What is about angels, the supernatural, strong women who kick ass that I love? Or vampires or aliens or whatever?

I mean, what is it that I think is so damn cool, so fucking awesome that I'd want someone to sit down and enjoy said type of novel?

Or for that matter, the speculative genre as a whole. Why fantasy fiction or any kind of SF/F? Also, romance, what do I really love about it? What is about telepathy that I like as a feature of some stories or the "stoic, seemingly heartless and cold person falls in love with someone their complete opposite who brings them out of their shell" trope in romance?

I'm still working on that bit, but it seems to me that maybe there's a lot to be mined there. Not just for my own fun, sport, and edification - but also as part of my writing.

I mean (for example) - if I just really fucking love space ships because I think anything that goes "pffwooooomfffffffff" in a big fiery ball and then goes into outer space is just the bee's knees, then focusing on the big fireballs and the power and wonderment of that much fuel and combustibility being harnessed to launch a multi-ton piece of aeronautics into the black abyss of space without blowing the shit out of everything in a ten mile radius is something I should focus on. Because it's what I'm excited about it. It's something that can be a theme in my work, something that I can bring to the table that maybe I see or think about in a way that's new or surprising to others.

So that's my thought for today. And my excuse for an update. May it serve you well and in good health.

TL;DR: Mental health is getting better. It's important to think about why you write stuff and also to sing to cats. But especially the bit about the cats. No great writer ever succeeded without first singing a beloved popular rock song to a cat. Though I might not advise singing "Mrs. Robinson" to a lion or anything. They're universally known to hate folk-rock. It's Queen or nothing for the mighty king of the beasts. THIS IS A COMPLETELY TRUE FACT. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP AT ALL.

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