Skip to main content

Embracing the Insanity

I hate that I wrote the following lines on Facebook first. That they were not squirreled away in a journal somewhere awaiting just the right moment to emerge from the chrysalis. And yet, that is fully the case--so here goes.

IF someone tells you they are a writer--and they actually are, you must know one thing; they are crazy. And they know that they are crazy. To have the need to create entire worlds from nothingness through blood, sweat, and tears is nothing short of madness.  And yet I know no other way.

This was a text that I originally sent to a friend and fellow writer. It summed up to me the conversation we had recently had.

I followed with this line.

It's what we do. Dance with words. And hope that one day others will hear the tune.

And that's true. I don't write because I want to be published, or on the New York Times best seller, or have one of my novels turned in to a Hollywood mega-hit.

Oh sure, those things would be nice. But that's not why I write.

I write because I am a junkie. I am an addict. I am addicted to the power that comes with the ability to create something from nothing. The ability to pull you along for the ride. The ability to influence your thoughts, your conversation long after you finished reading my words.

I'm addicted to those 4 simple words...."...and then what happened?"

I write to stay one step ahead of the addiction. I write to walk beside the demons that I have seen destroy so many other creative types. While I occasionally rage hard with the demons, they too know that they are merely fulfilling a role in my life.

*UPDATE* A LOT of time has passed since I first started this post. And ironically...a thought came to mind as I was going for a drive this past weekend.

There are some days when I cannot tell if I am running away from my demons or I am running straight in to their arms. Either way, there is a choice. Escape or embrace. There is no in-between.

I don't know a person that doesn't have demons. I think the difference is, us creative types know that that's what they are--demons. Things that we must try on a regular basis to exorcise.

I am close to joining a writing group. I don't know what's going to happen or what that is even going to look like, but I have to think that if anything, it will at least show me the tools necessary to take this writing thing from a hobby to something I can share with the more than 30 people who regularly view my posts.

30 doesn't seem like a big readership, I know.  But I am grateful for every single one of you. Because you know that there are actually stories in my head. Not just bullshit. OK-there is plenty of bullshit in my head, too. But I think (or I would like to think) that they reason you have come back again and again is for one reason...to ask...and then what happened?!?

Have a great evening my friends. I'm off to dreamland.

-A.T.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Marriage Material??

I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room, my listening game was on-point.

She recounted the exchange that sent her off. I will spare you some of the more personal details, but the gist was, at one point, the dude-bro she was talking to flat out told her that she wasn’t marriage material.

Torn between wanting to be a supportive friend and being completely gobsmacked, I felt her frustration. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t feel the same frustration she felt. I’m approaching what some consider middle age. I’m white. I’m primarily interested in women. Oh, and I have a penis. So...no, I can never truly feel the same frustration she was feeling. Or an anger that comes from the same place her anger came from. No matter how in touch I am witn my feminine side (whatever the fuck that actually means).

Instead, the frustration and anger I was feeling w…

Post Con-Fusion

It's 5:40 AM on a Wednesday. I have been up for an hour. I have an outline for a work in progress that I intended to work on this morning. I was in the middle of a chapter that I started at lunch and had every intention of continuing this morning. But, much like me, it seems the characters wanted to sleep in today. They wanted to just hunker under the covers as the rain danced its hypnotic melody on my roof. The swoosh swoosh swoosh of the ceiling fan keeping time with the rest of the nocturnal orchestra.

So, I shifted gears. I am taking  a course on getting more words on the page. Something that I want to do need to do if I am to get all of these books that are floating around in my head out in to the world. It's not so much that I think the whole world will love and adore them, although I certainly hope that is the case. No, it's more the fact that it's getting crowded up there. I need to get these words on the page for my own sanity as much as anything else.

Sanity,…

The Kindness of Strangers

This post is going to be a little bit all over the place. If you know me, you are probably used to that by now. If you don't know me, welcome. My name is Todd. I'll be your slightly insecure author and docent on this tour of randomness we call Todd's Mind.

I am going to get a little real, and probably a little raw here today. I would normally be terrified of that. Of exposing myself to the world at large. But in looking at the stats for this blog in the 22weeks or so since I've left Facebook, the reality, I'm exposing myself to about 10 of you. Less if some of you come back and re-read some of the posts. So...yeah. Here goes.

I can count on 1 finger the number of times including today where I have run out of gas. Not talking about pulling into the gas station on vapors, but actually having the car die and coast to a stop because that life-giving dead dinosaur juice was no longer in the tank.

One time.

Today.

It's my own fault. I don't like to admit when I&#…