Uncluttering My Thoughts

So this is gonna be a little different than my other blog posts, because it's just gonna be me digging through the cluttered attic that is my brain and trying to arrange the boxes with 'Writing shit' crookedly written on the side. I've had some version of this post in the works for a while, and just finally decided to just get it down and put it out there. (And then I spent another couple of days rewriting it in chunks, which I assure you has neither improved nor degraded its coherence.)

This is part of me trying to get to a better place with my writing, and on that journey I'm three or four off-ramps past the point of caring how much junk I toss out the car window. So this post is longer than it needs to be, probably more honest than it needs to be, and there's going to be a lot of whining and venting. It's not intended to be a call-out post, and if you think I'm referring to you, please try not to take it personally -- by and large, I'm trying to focus on my feelings about situations I don't have a lot of control over, I'm trying not to be hurtful about it, and if you see yourself in a broad-strokes comment I make consider that I'm trying to address a larger problem that's not about you specifically. I'm not vagueposting about particular people -- when I mean specific individuals, I say so even if I don't call them out by name.

Anyhow, now that I've probably made sure nobody will ever read this...

A couple of weeks ago I had a doctor's visit, just a standard six-month check-up with my GP. And I can't remember if I mentioned my writing in passing or if my doctor remembered that I'm a writer and got us onto the subject, but he mentioned that someone, I think his son, was talking about going to art school or something to that effect. And he was just amazed at where creative people like writers and artists just get it all from and how we put it together. Like, it wasn't the "where do you get your ideas from" conversation so many of us have had (and often dread), but admiration for the ability to just come up with stuff, arrange it into a story, and put it out there.

And we talked for a bit about the way different people come up with stories, and I talked about what I've always heard referred to as "pantsers" and "plotters" -- respectively, people who just make shit up as they go ('by the seat of their pants'), and those who meticulously plan things out. And I talked about how I was purely a pantser for a long time, but I really can't get a story to any workable state until/unless I stop and plan out the rest ahead of time. I can't remember the fine details of the conversation, but I just got into a bit of a groove babbling about it -- mostly positive, for the record, though acknowledging the struggle it can be sometimes. I do recall pointing out that despite everything, my most successful fiction pieces are the ones that I threw together at the last minute before the deadline, but the stuff where I had a strong idea early enough to make the best use of my time just hasn't been as well-received. (I feel like there's a different blog post in that.)

I bring it up here because I came out of that conversation realizing that for a few minutes, I'd felt genuinely good about being a writer for the first time in longer than I could clearly remember. Not necessarily good about something specific I'd written -- I've got a lot of work I'm very proud of (though bittersweet, for some pieces), work I've recently looked back on and went "Wow, I wrote that?," and such -- but about being a writer.

And I'm not entirely sure why. Is it because I was having a pretty basic, 101-level conversation about writing with someone who's not a writer, so my brain wasn't delving into deeper elements of writing and it was just easier to keep it light? Is it because talking about my process (such as it is) helped me realize which bits of writing I enjoyed the most? Maybe it was just engaging with someone who was interested and getting that real-time feedback.

I mean, I think it's a combo of that last two, now that I type it all out and read it back. But that last bit in particular, the engagement and feedback, that's kind of sticking in my brain, maybe because it goes back to something I've been trying to articulate for a while. I think it might also be one of the reasons I like running RPGs more than writing, and maybe it's like how some actors prefer being on stage in part because they like having the live audience. But anyhow, I'm slowly spiraling in on my point.

I think my biggest personal struggle, as a writer, is that I don't actually get to talk about my writing with people. On rare occasions someone will stumble onto something I've written and actually respond, have something to say, etc. But those occasions are rare, and usually don't progress beyond "Oh, hey, I liked this,"/"Thanks." And I recognize and accept that sometimes it comes down to the fact that I tend to write some niche stuff.

What makes it more awkward, like, with the furry stuff on my FA page, sometimes I'll post something and get a +fav, more often I'll post a story and the picture the icon came from gets a +fav, and sometimes somebody will go through and just tick the +fav button on all of the chapters at once. (That last one is usually after I post a link somewhere in someone's "Share your work here where people can see it" thing) Odds are, they didn't read it and they're certainly not going to, they just saw it on the front page and clicked so a counter on my page goes up, and then move on. 

Similarly, 95% of the time, if someone +watches me on FA I go to their page and see from the 'thank you' posts that they've also just +watched like a hundred other people all at once, because some people just do that. Once I systematically went through the people on my 'watched by' list, and over half of them were people who just follow almost everyone they see posting on the site (some seem to think they're doing you a favor, even though FA doesn't have any sort of algorithm?). Others are artists trying to get you to come to their page and look at their stuff. Y'know, like the clearly-automated random follows you get on social media from indie musicians fishing for follow-backs.

Normally, when I do get comments on my work (which, on average, happens maybe once or twice a year), it's a basic "This is really good, I can't wait to see what's next," and then I never hear from them again. And maybe it's because I go through long pauses between postings and they've completely lost interest before the next one, but one of the biggest causes of those long pauses is the deafening silence I get. It's hard to maintain an interest in an ongoing project like a novel or a setting I'm developing through stories when you feel like nobody else is interested either.

A couple years back, someone went out of their way to comment on my then-unfinished novel and a couple other things, seemingly enthusiastic with glowing compliments and looking forward to seeing what I do next. I say 'seemingly' because they never +watched me. Or maybe they +watched me and then decided to drop me for some reason. I honestly don't know and have no good way to check. What am I supposed to do with that? Because I can't see a way to point out that there's more to the story if they wanna read it without putting them on the spot, like a kid in school telling their crush "oh, hey, I saw you accidentally threw away the note I wrote you." Best case scenario, it was a legitimate mistake on their part and I just come across as insecure and desperate. Which, I mean, I'll cop to the first, the second varies by the day.

I feel like I can't really talk about my writing with my friends. Either they're not interested in the genres in which I tend to work (which is fair, I don't begrudge that), or they just never seem to find the time to read my stories -- even the ones they offer to beta read. It feels like because they like me and/or think I'm clever, they come to the conclusion that if they did read my writing they'd love it. They're so quick and eager to encourage me so I'll keep doing things I enjoy -- the problem is that writing isn't something I enjoy, largely because nobody wants to read it and won't tell me why. Everybody's willing to wish me luck in the class president election, nobody can be bothered to vote for me.

And for some reason people don't want to believe this. I've had friends cling to this notion that I'm constantly being complimented by people in places where they don't see it and I'm just imagining things when I talk about how rarely people comment on my work. Or they're certain I've got some invisible fanbase that I have to assume exists because Reasons. Some legitimately seem to think I'm in a bunch of private writing chats where at any moment I can dip in for advice and validation, like it's some neverending digital Bohemian salon where we're all downloading gifs of absinthe. They don't deny it to my face when I explain how it actually is, but it never seems to register when I explain it.

(Also, quite frankly, a lot of my friends have bigger, more serious problems than mine, and I don't feel comfortable asking them to take time and energy away from sorting out their crises to listen to me have a sad about my writing. Especially if they're artists or writers themselves, because then I worry I'm going to come across like I'm competing to see who's got it worse or asking them to worry more about my writing than theirs.)

I'm honestly not sure how long it's been since I've had an actual conversation with another writer about writing, unless you count the occasional reply to a social media post. I'm pretty certain it was pre-pandemic, at least. And some of that is on me, I could be a lot more proactive about that. But I don't think I've ever participated in any sort of group writer's chat and come away feeling like I'd contributed anything worthwhile. I never have any new thoughts for the conversation, and the rare times I do, somebody more articulate and concise gets it out while I'm on my third draft of the post/comment. There was a period of time a few years ago where I felt like I'd fully connected to the furry writing community, but that time passed pretty quickly.

When it comes to other writers, I feel like a hanger-on, like I'm someone's kid brother who gets dragged along to writing group meetings where I sit in the corner and write stories in crayon where half the words are misspelled but they let me hang out because... well, the metaphor breaks down, but probably because I make the room seem less empty at convention panels. And that's when I'm feeling good about my writing -- at Fur the More '22, I had a mini-meltdown about my feelings of failure such that I actively avoided places where I might run into writers that knew me, fearing some wholly-imagined judgment predicated on the fantasy that someone might notice me and ask how my writing was going. The one time I ran into someone who knew me, it was at the end of the con and I was in a better mood, but I probably still came across like a total asshole.

Okay, that tangent's put me in a worse place than I intended. Gonna try and get this back on the feedback/engagement issue, because I have more to say there.

I do vent and bitch and moan about much of this on occasion, usually on Mastodon, but by and large I resist the urge to get into it as deeply as I am here. I keep much of it to myself because this sort of venting feels like I'm devaluing the scarce handful of people over the years who actually have expressed an interest or given a shit. And I don't want to devalue them -- actually, I should say 'you,' because if you're reading this there's a decent chance you're be one of those people. Regardless, I don't want to devalue anyone, for the most part. The problem is that... well, don't take this the wrong way, folks, but there are so few of you that some part of me can't help but assume you've made some mistake or I've managed to trick you or both.

(Yes, I'm aware 'impostor syndrome' is a thing. But you know how they say that just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you? Well, the fact that I struggle with impostor syndrome doesn't change the fact that I might be an impostor.)

Someone might point out that one of my furry short stories won an award once. Which is true, but it shares that award with nine other stories. It's done nothing for my visibility as an author in the community. I bought friends copies of the anthology the story is in because they wanted to read it, and the only acknowledgement it's gotten has been 'I've been too busy these past few months to read it, sorry.' As of this writing, the free posting of that story has two +favs on FA, which is still more people than I've met who have actually read it in print/ebook. In this context, the award is nothing more than a reminder that some writer acquaintances of mine cared enough to nominate me because I nominated some of them that year.

(The award came with a plush lion which, if it didn't have the year of the award printed on it, I'd be legitimately tempted to send back so they could re-use it.)

I mean, the award doesn't change the fact that a couple of years back, I posted a potential first chapter for an idea I was toying with to get some feedback. I posted repeatedly in every social media outlet I used, linked it on the Furry Writers' Guild Discord, basically begged everyplace I was online for someone, anyone, to tell me if I was wasting my time. And it was over a hundred views and two weeks later before anyone said anything. Ironically I'm not going to link it here for a few reasons, largely because it and the larger idea it's been attached to have been pretty heavily reworked on my end so there's not much point in commenting on the posted version. Not to sound bitter, butFuck it, let me be bitter for a moment: If I were a visual artist and posted a pencil sketch for a potential new character that took the same amount of time, I'd have people falling all over themselves within minutes demanding to see more, giving feedback of varying degrees of propriety, and asking if they could commission a pic of their OC performing some sexual act with that character.

Anyhow.

I'm focusing on my furry fiction in this post because I get even less reaction to anything else, like my game writing, unless it's contracted work and I'm hearing from the developer/editor that's reviewing it. On a couple occasions I've heard a podcast address something I worked on, it's almost never in any detail beyond "it's good" while other sections get several minutes of discussion. Any time I've peeked in on an online conversation about a book I worked on, my sections will be the least-discussed, even if they were greatly anticipated before publication. Before I stopped looking, the closest thing to actual feedback I've seen was a reflexive "of course you're good" in response to a self-deprecating comment I made.

I don't need constant praise about my writing. All I really want is occasional reassurance that the time I spend writing wouldn't have been better spent jerking off or playing video games. Because the vast majority of the time, even when things go well, writing feels like ten times the effort for a tenth of the satisfaction. At this point, I have enough trouble writing up my gaming sessions for the blog, because I actually don't know how often anyone reads those, but they also serve as an exercise in going back over my notes and keeping details straight.

I know I need to try to unpack this with a therapist -- well, try again to unpack this with a therapist -- because trying to write has just gone so sour for me. Some days I feel good and get into a groove, but ultimately there's little to no satisfaction in actually finishing anything, and sometimes hearing other people talk about their writing on a podcast or stream feels like hearing about a party I wasn't invited to and I have to turn it off. A couple months back, an acquaintance of mine asked me if I was still writing, and I actually wasn't sure how to answer. (Hell, sometimes I'll get people with whom I've regularly kept in touch and follow me on social media asking me if I'm still writing.)

Bringing this post back to where it started... While that conversation with my doctor was largely a positive one, when I was talking about how writing can be a struggle, I did let slip in so many words that sometimes I wish I could stop. And while it's not every day, there are a lot of days that's true -- I didn't tell him this, but sometimes I honestly wish someone would just tell me I just suck and should give up writing. Thing is, I tried giving up writing once, many years ago, for reasons I don't want to explain here, and it didn't take. My brain just keeps churning out story ideas, character ideas, setting ideas, etc. It chews up all the things I see and hear and excretes stories that I have to try and at least write down. (And while 'excretes' wasn't a consciously-deliberate word choice in this context, as I read back over that sentence it feels so appropriate.)

It doesn't help that out of the handful of people who've ever said anything nice about my writing, the majority of them appear to read one thing, like it, and then immediately lose interest. And I just can't help but interpret that as being forgettable at best or a disappointment at worst, and either way I constantly feel like I should apologize to the people who've complimented my writing for having wasted their time. (And that goes double for anyone who's contracted me to write anything or bought anything I worked on.)

This is an anecdote I've trotted out more times than is probably strictly appropriate, but once someone I didn't know messaged me out of of the blue, asking me if I could finish a series I'd started writing years earlier called Totembound. That's how they worded it, 'could you finish Totembound.' I'm charitably assuming English isn't their first language and they meant to ask if I was going to, as opposed to making a request. For context: Totembound was a serialized story I'd started, put down a couple of chapters, got no response, realized it wasn't going to work for what I'd intended to do with it anyways, and so then I let it drop. I let it sit in the 'Scraps' folder for a while before I got tired of seeing it there and completely scrubbed it off the net. (Thanks to a hard drive loss a while back, I don't know if I even have any copies of it any more) And then, several years later, the one person who would miss it decides out of the blue to ask if there's ever going to be any more. 

It took every ounce of my self-control to not say outright "Maybe if someone had asked about it when I still had it up, I might have tried to salvage it." They had no interest in anything else I'd written, only asking if any of my other stories were in that setting. Apparently something about it appealed to them so much that nothing else would do. Looking back, I wish I'd thought to ask what that 'something' was, but they're not on the site any more so it's too late now.

Anyhow -- and this is me trying to wrestle this back around to something more positive and constructive -- something else that did come up during that conversation with my doctor is that one of the things that I have gotten out of my writing, especially back when I was more of a 'pantser,' was a sense of exploration. Of exploring a world by putting characters into a situation and writing out some stuff and seeing where it goes, coming up with details as I progress the way a map fills in in a video game.

And that's really the rub, isn't it? Left to my own devices, when I write my instinct is to grab random toys out of my brain and chuck them in the sandbox and plotting a journey weaving through them. And that sense of exploration helps encourage me to keep going. But I've learned from personal experience that if I go too long just doing that, there reaches a point where I look up from the pile of dinosaur toys I've accumulated and remember "Oh, right, there's an X-wing and the Mystery Machine from Scooby-Doo over there, how do those fit in again?" 

You can definitely see some of that in the early chapters of "Conversion." I wouldn't call it a mess, but there's a lot of meandering because I just came up with ideas as I went and some of them fit awkwardly with what I already had down. One of the reasons it took so long is from time spent trying to fit those awkward pieces together, until I stopped and said "Okay, I'm not writing one more word until I have a solid outline for the rest of this." I honestly regret putting that off as long as I did, because it gave me a bit of a jolt and something to look forward to for at least a while. Part of me wants to go back and do a major revision pass on "Conversion" to smooth out the rough edges (especially on the earlier chapters) and make it all fit together better, but it only feels worth the effort if I'm going to do something like self-publish it (because nobody's going to take it now that it's fully been online), and given that I can't get anyone to read it for free I sure as hell can't in good conscience ask people to pay for it.

I've been told it's always better to finish a bad novel and go back and edit/rewrite it into a good one after, rather than trash it halfway through. But during one attempt to write a novel I hit a story beat that should have been an 'end of Act I' sort of moment, but I was approaching a point about 2/3 of the way through the plot. I took a hard look at it, and realized I was having trouble keeping the rules of the setting consistent and had lost track of the antagonist's motivations. I couldn't see a path to any sort of ending from where I was at, and nothing short of a complete rewrite from the ground up could fix it anyways, so I gave up and figured if the idea still interested me down the road I'd try again later. Part of my pushing through to finish "Conversion" is not wanting to do that again.

I've been poking at something else that I'm envisioning as possibly novel-length, having learned from mistakes I made on "Conversion." So I'm stopping to plan things out a little better at a much earlier stage (formally stocking the toy bin for the sandbox ahead of time, as it were), and I'm not going to be posting it online as I go. While posting chapters of a novel in progress is a good way to have something on my FA page (where even the drops-of-water-in-the-desert feedback I get still help nudge me along), it also limits my ability to go back and revise earlier stuff because either I have to update the online copies and make sure people know go to back and reread them, or I post new chapters with a disclaimer like "Oh, by the way, I reworked Chapter 3 on my end, and this is going to refer to stuff that happened but you haven't seen." And neither of those feels great.

But I've also been questioning whether longer works are the best fit for my writing. I wasn't consciously planning "Conversion" on being a novel when I posted the first chapter a decade ago, and I think I initially intended something more like a serialized TV show with 'episodes.' And while, foolishly, the longer thing I'm poking at now probably wouldn't convert well to this, a few years back I became aware of a style of novel referred to as fix-up, that's really just a series of short stories strung together in a loose narrative. And just... well, I wonder if I'd be better off sticking to shorter plots, even if there's a background metaplot that's advancing.

Looking back, especially as I write this post, I do think the episodic approach has worked reasonably well for the RPGs I've run over the years. Probably the best campaigns (or equivalent) I've ever run have been a 'season' I ran of the Buffy RPG and a cut-short-too-soon campaign I ran of the Doctor Who RPG, both of which adhered to the TV model of their source material. My Exalted game has utilized this as well to some success, IMHO. Whereas I've had multiple games fizzle because I got too caught up in the bigger picture and things fell apart.

Maybe I do need to stop and consider that I need to stick with short stories, or if I do something longer make it something I can break down more cleanly, like an anthology or a fix-up novel. And writing shorter stuff more often would be a better way to have regular stuff to post online or submit or whatever.

I dunno, this post has gone all over the place, and I'm not sure where it's headed. I'm almost tempted to cut out most of the venting (even after trimming some of it already), but I've had a habit in the past of bottling things up, and I'm trying to be better about that, and... well, I think I was pretty clear above about why I don't talk about some of this stuff more often. But maybe I need to. I dunno.

If you've read all the way down to the bottom of this, I thank you, sincerely. I'd appreciate any thoughts you might have to share -- or even just an acknowledgement that I didn't spend ... (glances at counter, curses) ... okay, 4.7k words howling into the void. But yeah, any of that, either in the comments on this post or wherever you can find me on social media. I'm just gonna cut this here, before I accidentally let the stream of consciousness take me to a point where I talk myself out of posting this or out of writing altogether. Though clearly, if the latter were that easy, I suspect I'd have managed by now.