2.19.2020

My uncle died suddenly and this is what I have to say

I just found out a couple of days ago that my uncle died suddenly, and today would have been his birthday. He wasn't a young man, but it doesn't matter how old someone is when they pass away; it's still a shock and is still sad, even if they've been sick for a while. I find it irritating and not comforting when people think it's no big deal when an older person dies. For instance, when my dad died, he was almost 90 and had been sick for a while. It still took a while to get over, and when someone was talking about their dog dying and I mentioned my dad, the person said it was no big deal because my dad was old. Age doesn't matter. So if you're grieving someone whose "time" had come, there's nothing wrong with struggling with it, and it's okay to cry about it and mope, because we all want people to live forever, and it's hard to see them go.

I did the right thing with my parents: I had decided many years ago to help them because they were getting older and initially my mom had serious health issues, and I thought it was the right thing to do. I didn't have kids and didn't have much of a career, and I was willing to stunt that to help them out. Eventually my mom died just when my dad had become very ill, and then in the midst of that, my sister became very ill and died, so I really had to help my dad out. Actually, I could have hired someone more full time to help out, but by that point, I didn't have much to give up; I wasn't on any kind of intense career track and I didn't have anything to lose, so I spent a lot of time with him. I achieved what a lot of the millionaires who live around me haven't: I helped two elderly people live with dignity, and that's worth more than the luxury car and penthouse a lot of the NBA stars who recently descended upon Chicago have. Having no regrets and knowing that I've helped people is priceless, and while I have my own dreams to pursue right now and am older than others who have the same goals, I would absolutely do it all over again.

While I was helping my mom, she didn't want me to talk about her illness, so I didn't say anything for more than a decade. It's really amazing how ignorant and judgmental people can be when they don't know your situation and can't put it in a box. People would tell me to get a full-time job, one person would ask how many hours a week I worked and then add some negative comment, others would think I was rich because I didn't have a typical schedule. However, I was pursuing different things, but because my life didn't look the way other people my age were living, I felt bad when dealing with people's criticism and quizzical comments and demeanor. I internalized their negativity and I regret wasting so many years worried about what others thought. Absolute waste of time...don't do it.

One of the few people who knew about my mom's condition was my uncle, her brother. And she had told him what I was doing for her. I'm pretty sure some other folks knew, but for some reason, he was the only person who went out of his way to thank me. He didn't like to travel so I didn't see him much, but when he came to town, he would pull me aside and tell me emphatically that he was very appreciative of what I was doing. He would even grab my arm to make sure I understood how he felt. I was surprised because he was so intense about it, but it really made a difference. A lot of times when we're on the sidelines on the outside looking in, getting a word of encouragement from others means a lot. And his intense sincerity made it even more special.

Another time when he was in town, I was talking with him about writing and the group and anthology I'd published (thus the initial reason for my business). I also told him about the different places I was working. Instead of getting the usual questions or sarcastic comments that provincial people had thrown my way, he simply said, "You're an entrepreneur!" I had never thought of that, and I wasn't even making much money, but that simple statement was very encouraging. Especially since he was a professional and well-off person, it meant a lot. He had recognized that I was doing things my way, and there was nothing wrong with it.

And it makes sense because he himself had done a lot of different things, and what makes his reaction even more remarkable is that he had become very successful. He went to a good medical school, became a doctor and a professor, he spoke to groups (he was supposed to speak to a physicians group this week) and had written articles, and even wrote a successful novel. He told me that he bought a house from the money he made from that novel, and he also bought gifts for other people. And that was in addition to having a prominent, well-paying job. He was also good at investing, so he was all-around a very talented, smart person. There aren't many people who can do so many different things, plus be successful at it. But he had achieved so much, and I had a lot of respect for him.

He wasn't an easy-going person and had his negative points, and unfortunately, some folks only focused on that. I think that's because some people are so negative and critical, and perhaps envious, that they don't bother to step back to appreciate a person's overall accomplishments and pursuits; they only look at a slice of a person's life. While I knew that he wasn't perfect, I always admired him, and wanted to talk to him more, especially about writing commercial fiction.

In fact, a couple of weeks ago, I told my writing group about him and how I wanted to talk to him about how he got published. I really assumed I'd be able to talk to him, especially since he wasn't ill and was a very lively person who seemed to be destined to live a long time. He liked to talk to different kinds of people, he went out at least a few times a week, walked around his east-coast city, and was interested in what was around him.

Then I got the horrible phone call a couple of days ago. He was gone. I was so shocked, and was walking around my mid-west city when I was talking to other family members about it on the phone. I just couldn't believe it. The uncle who had been so encouraging the few times I'd seen him, and who had done so much, who I'd wanted to get advice from, was totally gone. Just like that. And I absolutely regretted not talking to him. I should have called him. I shouldn't have assumed anything.

So I'm writing this to tell everyone to not assume the people you admire and love will be around. If you have something to say, say it. If you're wasting your time with jerks, stop doing that and get around the good, positive, supportive people in your life. Don't waste your time with people who will pull you down, and don't fill your life with junk just because it's there. Pursue quality and stay in touch with people because you never know if they'll be here tomorrow, or even today. I wish I'd made the effort to communicate more with my interesting, smart, successful uncle, but I didn't, and I have to get over the regret. I also have to focus on good people and experiences, and make sure people know how I feel because I don't want to live through this shock and regret again.

I also have to finish the novel I've been working on, the process I whined about last month. I finished the first draft, and didn't feel very motivated. That's one of the things I wanted to talk to him about...how did he stay motivated? What was his writing process? I don't know because he's gone. But going forward, I'm going to use his memory and success to keep me motivated, and if I get published, I will dedicate the book to him. That should be motivation enough.

1.16.2020

I fell into the "what's the point" kind of thinking

A while ago, I was hired as a writer somewhere, and I stupidly didn't tell people my experience, so that when my writing wasn't stellar, I'm pretty sure it gave them a reason to despise me. One person asked me if I had experience doing that kind of writing, and I stupidly said "no." I had done similar kind of writing, but I didn't bother to say that. I just said I didn't have the experience. Why, I have no idea. I think I was in the mode of "don't bother to boast because things have changed for the worse in general, and there's no point in scrounging up some confidence when talking to people about my background." I should have said that I did, indeed, have experience elsewhere, which was totally true, because I'd just come from a similar place.

Fast forward to my current fiction-writing attempt, which has resumed due to my underwhelming social life, and one thing that really drives me is that I'm going to prove those naysayers wrong. While they were thinking I probably shouldn't have been hired (even though I passed a writing test, have a writing portfolio, and have done a lot of online writing over the past several years), I was thinking I could try to achieve more.

But after successfully doing Nanowrimo and thinking that I have the motivation to continue churning out words, I ended up petering out. I was working a lot, which is a common excuse that lots of people make, but people who are motivated to write do it any chance they can. I was doing that for a bit, writing early, during breaks, going to a writing group, but then life took over and my will to write faded into the distance. And when I had some time during the holidays, I still had some work to get done, plus chores, plus lots of sleeping because I'd been sleep-deprived, which messed up my system.

Then I got into the usual thinking that I've been in before, in addition to scores of other people: what's the point? Should I keep working towards something that might not happen, that will probably never happen? I can write here, interview people for some podcasts, read books, get stuff done. Basically, there are many attainable goals, but writing a novel is an impossible one. I'm goal-oriented, but trying to write a decent story, then revising it, then getting an agent, then getting published, then revising again, then trying to sell are all extremely difficult goals. It's very satisfying to attain a goal and to be rewarded in some way, but to keep working with no end in sight? Why?

I've talked to people who've barely gotten any writing done, and I think I know why. When we're operating in the real world, there are things in front of us to get done or to overcome or to figure out. Our minds are on the level of reality, trying to make sense of it all and reaching constant conclusions. But fiction causes us to pull away from that reality into a world that yes, is satisfying because we're creating it and there are no jerks to tell us what to do or to demand anything from us, but is never-ending. Writing fiction causes us to dream as well, hoping for an end to our quest, for finding an audience that will react to what we're doing. Plus, if a writer gets other deals, such as movies or TV or translations or whatever, then their work is really rewarded, and they can live a better life and have a larger circle of friends, etc. They can do readings and interviews and go to cool events. But that's only for the very select few. The rest may get published but don't get noticed, or they never get published are are working in a vacuum, full of hope and frustration.

Some (or many?) people have a desire to express themselves creatively and to display their unique voice because much of what we do is a suppression of who we really are. Basically, if I could make a living being myself, that would be fantastic. But very few people get that chance, so I, like millions of others, need to negate who we are or just function in the parameters that others set for us to survive. So writing (or other artistic endeavors) is a way to fly in the space we choose, and despair can result from the toil and eventual difficulty of making the pursuit more than just an inconsistent occurrence.

Anyway, now that I'm writing this, it makes me realize that I've been operating in reality too long. Some weird and disappointing interactions with people are weighing me down, the winter is cold and dark, the deadlines are constant, and life seems dry. Fiction makes it more interesting, like we're entering a doorway to another world which is run by us. Even just blogging my thoughts makes me feel like I'm carving out a space that I don't usual occupy elsewhere. I'm sure if I were super-successful, someone would ask me to write my thoughts about a subject, and it would be satisfying to know that others are reading it and I'm being acknowledged in some way. But at least I'm doing something instead of just feeling dissatisfied and dejected.

And even though I've been struggling to stay motivated and to try for something that may never happen, I've still managed to write over 200 pages of the novel I'm working on, and that is in addition to another quick draft I did of another story for Nanowrimo, which was 50,000 words. So instead of feeling sorry for myself or doubtful, I should be proud because of what I've been able to get done. And right now, I'm reading through what I've written so far, and it doesn't seem like such a disaster, though editing and more writing are necessary.

12.30.2019

I hate books that are written like the spoken word

I just finished a book that is a New York Times bestseller, has probably made the person millions of dollars, and gets great reviews online. But after reading it, I was irritated, not just because the content wasn't my type of stuff, but because the entire book was written like the person was making a speech. And it went on like that for a couple hundred pages.

I don't want to name the book because I don't want to get flamed, and other people I know who read it loved it. But that's the second book I've read recently that was written by a famous, rich person, is a bestseller, and is beloved by many people all over. The other book, which I also won't name because it was so popular, was much worse than the one I just read. It promised to be a kind of self-help book, but it gave no advice, just had repetitious ideas and phrases, and was more like a choppy one-person show than the written word. And what's even more baffling is when some of those writers talk about their education, whether it's private schools, honor rolls, or prestigious universities. So they're educated and probably had to write a lot to get good grades, but pretty much cop out of a more literary style when writing several pages. It's like they don't want to commit to trying to write complex sentences and more thoughtful expressions, but instead want to transcribe their talk and call it a day.

There is another person whose books are extremely popular, who've made them millions of dollars and allowed them to have a private plane, huge home, etc. They didn't start out famous, but they became that way after speaking all over the world and writing those books. One of them has sold millions of copies, so I tried to read it after someone recommended it. I could barely get through the first several pages. Every sentence read like a speech. I found another book that covered the same topics (which makes me wonder if the rich person took those ideas, since it was written before their bestseller), and it was way more enjoyable to read, and effectively communicated the writer's ideas, because it was created as the written word, not the spoken one.

And in case you think I'm being critical because I'm envious, I'm not. Sure, I'd love to become rich through a book, or write a book because there's an audience waiting to hear what I have to say. And I don't disparage anyone who likes those kinds of books. I'm just bringing this up because I really like when people attempt to write a book reflecting a style that glides, that takes the reader on a journey, rather than throwing words in our faces, assaulting us with a loud stand-up act or stage performance. If I want that, I'll watch them live or on video; I don't want to read it.

Also, in case you're thinking, "Well you don't know those writers; you're not a fan; you didn't like the content anyway," that's not accurate either. I am not a big Liz Phair fan, even back when she was super-popular. But I enjoyed her book anyway, even though I couldn't relate to what she was talking about, and even though some of the content was not the kind I usually read. But it was very well-written. She has a good education, which she doesn't negate to write super-simple like some of those other people.

There's another angle on this, which I just realized: Judy Blume was saying in her master "class" (which is really a series of very interesting lectures more than a class) that before you send off your manuscript to the outside world, you should read it out loud. She said that she realized the importance of doing this when she recorded the audio versions of her books, and was told to strictly read what she had written instead of improving it along the way. She said that when you read your writing out loud, you'll understand it better, what works, what doesn't, etc. So maybe some of those multi-millionaires wrote in that way because they knew they would eventually record them, and they wanted to make sure that their audio sounded as good as the published version of their books.

Whatever the reason, I'll continue being in the minority of non-fans of those blockbuster writers/celebrities/super-successful people and will continue toiling in obscurity.

12.17.2019

Translation of a Polish student's personal creative essay

I've been teaching ESL (English as a Second Language) for several years, and one of my students from this past semester gave me a translation of something that she wrote in Polish. Unfortunately, I don't have the original Polish text (maybe I can ask her to give it to me next year), but I have her translation, which she wrote by hand and which I typed out here:

Romeo and Juliet

The end of romance, the end of spoken words, "Moment, please last forever."
Only emptiness is left...a longing for closeness, for the touch of bodies that, despite the influence of gravity, could not penetrate each other, could not become one.
There is only an echo, an echo of memories...of those crazy nights, a subtle shining moon that opened its eyes at the sight of drunk Romeo and wild Juliet--a version from under the bridge.
They were not allowed to die together of love. Someone wrote a new script, a new version of the film in which the characters played themselves--so called sketches of the past.
Romeo is dancing tango with the chosen one of his life--a bottle of brandy. Julia experienced her first death, she buried her feelings. It wasn't she who became dead. Others became dead to her...Dead to make her able to love again, to fill her interior with pleasure, with desire for closeness. She became like his sperm--she exploded with a lust for love for a second, and then she returned to her previous form--a self-sufficient haven.
I think the art fell in love with her. It was the art who opened its mouth one night and whispered words to Julia--"I will be your lover, I will caress your inside and through your visible moans you will let the world know that you feel fulfilled."

A tree without feathers...stands naked, all exposed.
It's watching my window. Maybe it thinks it would be nice to be in my room, warm its nakedness under a warm duvet. I am sure it would appreciate four corners. What about the yellow walls?
The sun would speak to the tree through them. The tree would admire with pride two artificial butterflies. It would say--"They dared to fly to the sun."
Maybe it would do a little redecorating...
Right in the middle of my room it would set its root.
It wouldn't need a window anymore.
It would remind it about naked days, days when everyone passed it with indifference, even the one who opened the curtains from night every morning to make her room a light for a moment...
"The darkness of your eyes awakened me from my sleep. I say, with hand on my heart, that in the whole spectacle they play the main role.
The thunder sounded in my heart!
Lightning, however, has its beginning in your pupils.
Your repugnance will not last forever.
There's something about you stranger..."
They f--- every night.
****
"Only those who went through darkness can see the beauty of the stars."
****
"I curse tradition--thought patterns that attribute immortality to themselves, wanting to serve their people forever. It's not easy to tear this system apart. We would have to become complete darkness for a moment, so that we can turn on our own light...the light of freedom. I thought I had reached this state, that I had completely faded. Damn it! The light is still shining. I will give myself time. I will understand in time that this is all a process."

12.04.2019

I did Nanowrimo again...but this is it!

Even though I told myself I would not do Nanowrimo again, I did it this year, and finished in time. I can't believe I wrote so intensely for a month, but I did, and I feel like I just ran a writing marathon. The only requirement is to write 50,000 words of fiction, what they call a "novel," but there's no way the novel is good. The writing has to be immediate, unedited, and spontaneous, otherwise you end up editing and thinking and slowing down, which means more words to write per day, which means you never get ahead.

I decided to do it because I thought I wouldn't have much work, and figured with the extra downtime I could work on achieving this goal. But I ended up having more work than I thought, thus I should have not continued, but I'd already announced my project on the Nanowrimo site, and I wanted to finish what I started. That meant lots of writing at odd times, which made me super-tired and sort of stressed, because I had to do my regular work, meet deadlines, but also get lots of words in per day (or every few days if I was under word count).

As with last year, this year I learned and experienced a lot, including:

1 - When I know the end, it's easier to write to it. I didn't start out writing the end, but when I was almost at 50k, I decided to write it because it had crystallized as I'd written a bunch of random stuff over the month. If I do want to shape it into a more decent story, I definitely know where I want it to lead, so creating scenes and characters will be easier.

2 - I developed a new habit. I was already writing at least a few times a week, but I was so consistently and intensely writing, that when it was all done, I was already on that treadmill. It became a part of my routine and I want to continue.

3 - Writing lots of junk helped me to come up with a focused character. I thought I was going to have a certain main character when I started the whole thing, but as I was writing tons of stuff, I realized that the main character should be someone who was previously minor. I decided to write it through her eyes (though not in first person), from more of an outsider's perspective, so that I can communicate workplace dysfunction more effectively if she's the one observing and trying to defeat it.

4 - Writing 50,000 words is no big deal. Not if you don't mind writing badly. And as I learned last year, who cares if I write a bunch of junk? It's fun to write and write and let things flow and more concrete ideas will emerge, as opposed to thinking so much and then creating something that you hope will work. Of course, the better option is to plan and write as well as possible instead of writing anything that pops into your head.

5 - Creative writing is more integrated in my life. I used to have a hard time going from the practical real world to the imaginary one, but writing so much has broken that wall, so switching between the two is no big deal. Before, I wouldn't see a reason or be motivated to write because I figured it wouldn't lead to anything anyway. Absolutely no one is waiting for my story, and no one has asked for it; that seems to happen with well-connected people who can tell their successful publishing friends or agents that they're working on something, and those people might say they'd like to look at it once they're done. If I knew people like that, of course I'd be writing day and night to get something done. But since I don't know anyone like that, it's very hard to get going. But because I was writing all the time, I really enjoyed just writing, so it's not about the result at this point but the process. It's just fun to create a bunch of people and stories and take a break from obligations and always doing what others want me to do.

6 - I really don't want to do it again. It's a nice exercise, but I have too much to do. Plus, I realized I have a non-work life that I want to participate in, and I was so busy trying to get the 50k done that it really made my schedule packed, and I felt like there wasn't much breathing room. And I was just very tired. I basically slept for several hours on Thanksgiving because of all I'd done that month, and it's not really worth it at this point. Now all I need to do is really finish a proper book and get a pro to look at it. So if you see pigs flying, that's when it will really be happening.


10.30.2019

I have a business, okay?

I've been wanting to write this post for a while, and started it, then stopped, because I don't want to seem too whiny or self-promotional. But I think there has been some misunderstanding from various people offline about what I exactly "do," and I feel like I should explain. This isn't an attempt to be defensive, though sometimes it feels that way because I've experienced judgement from clueless or snotty people, and I'm tired of being silent or self-effacing.

I mentioned over a decade ago that I created a company with the very same name as this blog, though there's an "LLC" after it. I took a business class earlier this year (for credit) and realized that I am a "solopreneur." The book we used (which was multimedia, so it was more than just a book) defined different kinds of businesses, and voila--there was the term that described me. I'm not just a freelancer, though I started that way back in the mid-90s. I am truly running a one-person business, which means a business bank account, taxes (which have gone up for people like me because the new tax laws and write-offs only benefit rich people and rich corporations), paying hundreds of dollars per year to the state and to a registered agent, paying to use an office, and basically trying to get work at various places.

It is not easy working for yourself, and I've done it for several years. When I was in college, many companies were going through corporate restructuring, which meant layoffs and upheaval and greed that was bolstered by changing regulations. I remember I was in an economics class and was very vocal about my worry about changes in the business climate, and someone pretty much yelled at me to not worry, they got a job after college, blah blah. Fast forward, and we know what's happened in the past thirty years.

When I lived and then traveled in Asia, I realized that people don't have to follow the predictable path of college, work, grad school, more work, conformity to a company, etc. There could be many paths, and by the time I got back to the U.S., I decided to freelance. Back then, not many people did that. People made sarcastic, condescending comments such as "I'm sure your resume is 'interesting'," or "maybe one day you'll figure out where you want to work." People seemed perplexed and disgusted that I was choosing a different way. I figured I could use my skills at different places, and while I wasn't making a lot of money, I was building a life that I created and doing work that people needed. I wasn't relying on a company to give me a break; I was making my breaks. I networked, went to grad school, took courses, talked to people, learned on the job, and really gained a lot of skills and insight. I have worked with and for many people in different areas of Chicago and the suburbs, and I've also worked with a diverse array of people as well. I have worked with different ages, economic backgrounds, ethnicities, etc., and I am proud of what I've accomplished.

Because I have a business, I can mix it up. For instance, I currently work for some higher education institutions, a media outlet, a publication, a small company, and even a fitness center. One time I was working the front desk at the fitness place, and someone who had retired from a prominent career, and whose child is working for one of the best companies in the world, saw me, and asked if I was doing okay. They probably thought I had fallen on hard times and "had" to take such a job. No, and that's the point...I can work where I want, as long as it fits in my schedule. Of course, if I want to promote the business, I have to choose what I say and what I emphasize because everything I do can't be neatly summed up in a cute little bow of an elevator pitch.

The mistake I have made over the years is that I haven't told people who've asked what I "do" that I have a business. I've instead just explained what I do, or just vaguely mentioned places I work. I realized the other day that I think it's because I'd faced ignorant mockers early on, and it caused me to be quiet, or to underplay what I've done. But doing your own thing is challenging because we can't wait for someone to favor us; we have to build relationships and trust, make deadlines, and do good work.

In addition to the business, I've also found time to volunteer. I don't do a ton of that type of stuff, but I've done it to balance out my life "portfolio." I also spent many years helping my elderly parents, which wouldn't have been possible if I had a regular 9-to-5 job. So while I was helping them (which is really worth another post), I was able to still get work done for places, to keep the business going.

I started doing several years ago what is pretty common now, but society and the media who salivate over the current generation haven't bothered to pay attention to people like me. Back when I started and for some years after that, it wasn't hard to get freelance or project work. Then the economy and societal norms changed, so that the market has become more flooded. Unfortunately, people are so enamored with folks of a certain age that they skip over people like me. Well I not only have more experience, but I've been getting stuff done for years, and being flexible is no big deal. I deserve credit and recognition, but since it's not automatic or assumed, I've had to motivate myself. And the fact that I'm still around shows that I am able to do it.

Maybe one day I will have a regular full-time job. I haven't had one in more than 25 years. Sometimes I feel like I'm on such a different path that I want to relax into one of structure, surrounded by a baked-in community, because whatever community I have has to be built by me, and is not located in one place but is more like an orbit. When I see people working together in the same place, going out, getting to know each other over the years, working on projects together, I think that one day I might want that. But society has to understand and appreciate what I've done, and people have to open their minds to accept that it's okay to be different, to not be a recent grad, and to respect people like me who not only have been able to work in different situations, but have been able do what's needed, including exercising when a lot of people my age let themselves go. Yes, it is possible to be sharp, creative, and nimble without having to be barely not a teen.

Basically, I'm tired of being quiet about what I do, and going forward, I will talk about my business and my accomplishments. For instance, recently I was selected for a professional development training opportunity. I also got A's in that aforementioned business class and a marketing class, I was already offered a class to teach at a university, and I've done a good enough job at a few places that they want to keep giving me work. These examples don't come from a single institution where I've climbed some kind of job tree, but they are from different areas where I've carved out a productive path, where I've gotten along with people who think I'm smart and capable. And I'm not going to talk it down anymore.

10.09.2019

That didn't last long

Over the summer, I wrote about how it's harder to write while you're more on the inside than outside, and that's where I was for a bit. I was writing, but it was hard to find that drive, because I was too busy getting stuff done and being a part of groups larger than just myself. Now that the fall is here, I'm back to doing more quiet, solitary work (and I'm not an introvert, nor am I anti-social, as I've said many times before), and I'm not as overloaded as I was over the summer (I was working 50-70 hours a week...exhilarating times for an action-seeker such as moi). While I still work weekends, my schedule is not as packed, so I find myself with more time, which means more writing.

And it's not just about the freed-up time, but the freed-up mind. Because my brain is not wrapped up in deadlines or operating more socially, it has the tendency to collapse upon itself and observe and sense my surroundings in detail, because it's looking to channel the stimulation around me, or if I'm alone, to organize the lack in some way. So I've been writing more often, and I feel like I'm more of an outsider now. And what I mean by that is because of working in different places, not living the typical lifestyle of someone my age, and basically wanting to explore various areas and people and stay curious about life (and not having a single group, as this self-proclaimed outsider describes), it's put me back into more of the role of observer, which is easier to do when you're an outsider.

I was talking to some smart folks recently about how they grew up being different, and they've managed to create a life that's worked out for them. This outsider situation I've encountered didn't start when I was young, as it did for them; it happened in my adult life, and it's something I'm still getting used to. If I were a brilliant storyteller, perhaps I would've put out a bunch of fiction by this point, and while I've attempted to do it through the years, it didn't go anywhere because my fiction has not been worthy of a public audience, and it's just very hard to create. Yet because I probably will never totally shake off my outsider status (which I perceive; I don't know if others do, though some think I'm weird or intense), I've decided to try to channel it into expressing myself via fiction and non-fiction. I've discovered that it's important to find a space to control when things don't seem controllable, or thrilling, or different.

I wish I knew someone who made it work for them, but I just meet people who are trying to make a living, or who are coasting, or who don't deal with this issue at all. Even if I sort of mention it to someone who's on their own path, pretty much asking them how they stay motivated or how's their social life, etc., they don't have much to say. And since the Internet has become more superficial, it's hard to find the kinds of online confessionals that used to exist back in the day.