Category: General

Pretty blorbo creep

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This is probably one of the dumbest things I do, but sometimes I think about whatever the equivalent of power creep is in my books—pretty blorbo creep. The point of diminishing returns on loveliness? All of my characters are the fairest in the land, but occasionally I’ve sat down and tried to rank them for my own edification.

Here’s my current list, btw, from most to least beautiful. This is completely unserious:

  • White
  • Nice / Galahad (sorry, they’re tied)
  • Lynx
  • Charis
  • Durant

White and Nice have the edge on being supernaturally lovely. Galahad is just freakishly beautiful despite being completely human. Lynx and Charis are bringing up the rear as also human, but, you know, kpop idols so still gorgeous. I think Durant has more charm than bewitching good looks, but I do think he’s very handsome, too.

I want to toss another character up there, but if I did, I’d have to out myself on my Super Secret Pen Name, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that commitment yet 😛

Sickness and Health

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It’s been a really rough month and a half. First I caught covid, which led to a really scary asthma exacerbation, and now I’m dealing with some really exhausting side effects while adjusting to new medication. I’m not having a good time, guys.

Which I say just because… I want to say something. To let you know how I’m doing and not just disappear. I’d like it if it was something more positive and fun, but, well, this is where I’m at.

I’m trying my best and trying to be kind to myself in these times. Hopefully I’ll feel good about writing again soon. <3

When she’s hungry, she looks for the garden

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I love Annie Dillard. I love her writing, which seems to possess a kind of singular beauty. I’m once again thinking of this quote of hers and finding it at once bolstering and convicting:

One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. Something more will arise for later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water. Similarly, the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes.

– Annie Dillard

I confess I haven’t felt like much of a writer lately. My words have slowed down. I’ve been prioritizing other things. Life and health have become sometimes sad—maybe moreso than usual. This will pass, and yet it still seems hard.

Ah, I want to end this blog post triumphantly, but maybe it’s most honest to say that writing is still someplace I can go. That even when the light on the porch of my own creative practice seems dark and dim, it never goes out completely.

And there has to be something very hopeful in that.

Finished a book

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Here to lie flat facedown on the floor because I finished a book, hallelujah.

It occurs to me that when I say that, I have to specify reading or writing or else people get confused. But yesterday I finally glued my ass to the chair and finished writing Fairytale.

I don’t know why endings are so hard for me— or well, I guess I do. I tend to second-guess myself a lot when it comes to endings. I don’t have a lot of confidence for being able to land the plane well, which leads to a lot of planes in suspended animation, just sort of hovering until they fall out of the sky.

Which is to say, I realized I’ve developed a very bad habit of getting 40k-80k words into projects before jumping ship and abandoning them for shiny new WIPs. I’m trying to stop doing that because where at first I thought it was a manifestation of different interests, now I mostly think it’s a manifestation of fear.

The end is usually pretty close whenever I decide to jump ship. Maybe it’s just hard to make decisions. Saying yes to one fork in the road means saying no to all the others, and the closing of possibilities can seem scary—but it doesn’t have to, right?

This is just a stray thought that I’m marinating on, but I think I’d like to do some kind of personal challenge for the year. Maybe I can call 2024 The Year of Endings if that doesn’t sound too horrifyingly ominous. I’d like to make my peace with endings. Maybe I’ll try to finish as many things as I can. Sounds kind of uncomfortable. I better get some gold stars for this. (Literally, I’m going to buy stickers. I’ve had some galaxy-themed star stickers in my Amazon cart for ages now.)

Because it’s not just fear of choosing the wrong ending, I think. I avoid endings even when I’m reading, even when I’m watching things. There’s just something in me that squirms away from a certain kind of emotional discomfort, and I’m really so sensitive when it comes to fiction. I don’t think it’s a bad thing, but I do think I want to get a little better at holding my hand to the fire. I want to know how things end. I want to stop keeping myself away from things I love because of some inchoate fear.

Anyway! I felt guilty for not writing today for all of a hot second, but since I just finished writing a novel yesterday, I think I actually deserve a break. On the subject of endings, I picked back up a danmei I had paused in reading, Evil as Humans, which I’m really liking and I’m about halfway through. I’ve been reading it all morning, and I have a small pot of jook simmering on the stove.

I think I feel pretty good today. Kind of hopeful. Maybe I’ll do a little bit of sketching later.

There are still some extras I want to write for Fairytale, but I think I will save that thought to percolate for another day.

Silent Night

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I have been so anxious lately. I’ve been wishing for good health. And praying—lots of that, too. I feel better and worse in a lot of ways, lately? I don’t know, I’ve been feeling very scrambled. I’m trying to keep up, and I’m trying to slow down.

I just stopped spending time with some people who were not very good for me, and yet I still miss my friends.

I’ve been encouraged every time I go outside lately. “Touching grass.” I feel like I’ve been getting peeks over the wall, little breaths of fresh air, those moments where you see that the world isn’t so bad, isn’t so unsafe. That there is help and comfort and friends everywhere.

But still, sometimes I’m anxious. I’m perhaps trying to be a little more open. I’m trying to relax. Maybe we’ll see how long it lasts.

I finished the short story I was working on last time. It’s called Silent Night, and I think it turned out kind of strange and beautiful. It’s about a painter with a single-minded devotion to his art and another painter who’s floundering his way into a new medium, manic-eyed and struggling. They get together, but I think they’re still lonely. There’s something about art school… with your dedication to your craft so big and between you, how close to another person can you really get?

It lives here on Patreon for now. It’s roughly 7k words long, and I think I would like to revisit Heechul and Kaoru again some time in the future, but I feel good about where this story leaves them.