Great Simplicity

I've had time recently to reflect on my writing.

When I write on this blog I'm often doing it to work out something. My thoughts or my feelings are confused and I need to try to make sense of them. It really does help... but doesn't make for really good writing. That's a moot point however since my talents are found within fiction.

It's easy to look at my blog and think "god he's just an emo little bastard isn't he?". It might even be true. This is a modest attempt at correcting that; I make no promises for the future however.

It's funny. When I was young I thought I was such a great writer. I was actually pretty good. But not for the reasons I thought. I had a natural talent, words and concepts came easily to me. I was far better then my peers (Some would argue that's hardly worth merit.) and devoted huge amounts of time to reading and practice.

Around 12 or so I started to get into heavy lit. Shakespeare, Voltaire, Hemingway, Poe etc. That was when I first started to realize that my gift was less then I had imagined. The first serious brick wall I hit as a reader was Kant's Critique of pure reason. I was intellectually unprepared for the power of his ideas. A child can understand Shakespeare or Voltaire. But it takes a mature intellect to grasp the complexities of Kant's work.

During this time of my life I would 6 or more books a week; sometimes as many as 12. I learned very quickly how to duplicate another writers style, I was able to find patterns that acted as a "tell" into the authors mind. With all this study I became good at understanding writers, but I didn't really feel like a writer anymore. You see I never had my own "style".

I could duplicate another writers style, but I never felt comfortable with my own words. The style was awkward and seemed to reach. My natural gift had taken me as far as it could. My personal life was often chaotic and my interests started to wander more as I got older... I never really became comfortable with any one style and instead used a nearly schizophrenic smattering.

The way I write now is completely different and it's thanks to one thing. Religion.
Taoism is itself a simple religion and yet it applies to virtually everything in life. Many writers fill page after page without saying anything of worth. Some writers pack their writing in too tight making it feel rushed. I want to say exactly what I mean with just the right words and at just the right pace. Kant spoke about topics of such complexity that it would seem to be at odds with my personal beliefs. But when I read the book again I understood what Kant was saying. I will tell you a simple truth. Kant wrote about a topic of great complexity in the simplest way possible.

Great simplicity hides complexity. Things that are subtle delight the mind and invite the imagination. I struggle with style sometimes, I wrestle with the fickle muse for the perfect word, I listen in the dark of the night for the perfect thought and the elusive feeling. It is this simple, chaotic, terrifying and beautiful act of creation that I have devoted my life to and I would have it no other way.

My natural talent and inclination was a gift from my mother. It's entirely my challenge where it takes me from here.

Till my last breath

Somes in trauma a memory becomes burned into the psyche; a smell, sound or taste brings back memories of betryal, heartbreak, deep sadness and guilt. We seek escape and release in new memories, in fantasy, in denial or by shutting ourselves off completely from the world.

I have my entire life been master of fantasy. I have dwelled in the richness of my imagination from the unfairness and cruelty of my early life. I learned as I grew older to shape it and use it for performance and writing. Even some of my hobbies dwell within the realms of fantasy: books, games and anime. But never have been slave to it.

It is for this same reason I refuse to drink to excess, I fear the loss of control.
I have seen what the loss of control does to a person, what addiction does to the mind. How the soul dies in stagnation when it is not fed. I could've ran into the world of fantasy and been a slave. This path is different but perhaps the reward greater.

It is an eerie feeling as I realize that I am trapped. The contridictions themselves appear almost absurd. I want to undo damage from a time I was behaving irrationally from illness, but I am afraid to speak to those people: moreover they won't speak to me.
I want to be forgiven for actions I have been assured I did not commit, yet I remember them as if they occured yesterday and the guilt is not less because of the circumstances.

Worst of all is the realization that the trap is complete; I am unwilling to escape. Perhaps in that regard it is better to refer to it as a cage. Although the cage has no freedom and is generally unplesant it's not all that dangerous. I fear the ruthlessness and cruelty I was capable of... it isn't something I can understand or comprehend. I guess all I can call it is primal... like it belongs to a darker animal part of my psyche.

I think honestly I would choose death before letting that happen again. Many would call that a cowards way out... but I don't think I have it in me for another round of that.
But my fear is not just for others, but also my own mortal soul. At times it felt as if I stood on the line between eternal damnation and an escape to forgiveness. I felt if I held on alittle while longer I would be redeemed somehow.

The fire in my soul burns to embers but has not died. I overcame death, depression and sickness and I refuse to be trapped by my own fear and hesitance now. Someday my children will face their own trials; they will ask me "what should I do?" and I don't want to be a hypocrite when I tell them that fear should not stop them. I'll say to them "don't let anything stop you, not while you still draw breath." and I won't be a hypocrite when I say it.

So thats my new motto. I'm going to keep saying it till It sticks. I need to remember that while I live I can change and the future changes with me: So until I stop breathing nothing will stop me.

World of Insight Pt two.

I said I would elaborate on the previous post and true to my word here I am.

Playing Dawn and Adul gave me an insight into how I used to play. It's one small facet of a very rich life and doesn't give me everything I needed. I had some time to delve deeper into my memories to a time before World of Warcraft.

I don't know what kind of Taoist listens to Bon Jovi, Creed and Vertical Horizon before classes but I did. I would close my eyes and free my mind. As time went on I was put under more and more stress and I started to meditate less and less. There were times when I meditated 3 times a day without fail and kept my mind and reflexes sharp. Other times I was lazy and did maybe two or three times a month.

I had a kind of indestructable spirit that always kept me from falling into the deeper aspects of my personality. It was uplifting and attracted into my life a variety of friends, lovers and comrades.

I now see with clarity the layer upon layer of fear and pain that has dragged me down. I was detoured from my path because of this and I will not tolerate the delay any longer. I have no future while I remain like this... and if the answer requires struggle and sacrifice then I say good. My first stop is long over due, I need to see someone special before I can do this. Once thats done I need to hunt down each and every problem and solve it.

Goodnight and godspeed

World of Insight?

This post has been stewing in my head for some weeks trying to take a fitting form... but really I think it's because I'm afraid to write it then any writers block.

It's really a poorly kept secret that my health isn't good, bad enough that in fact that I was forced to leave my job and live a lean simple life off savings and scavenging. I've had little to no luck in fighting the migraines and perpetual pain that I've been feeling for the past half year. If my weight loss follows the trend it has I will be within double digits in the next week or so.
So needless to say I've been pretty miserable aside from a new moments I can gleam with Holley, Warren or Ashlyn.

Writing, the outdoors, most video games, books and most activities that require alot of thought have been nixxed. That leaves TV and World of Warcraft.

WoW rarely requires me to think, the fact of the matter is I can play it completely off instinct and be completely fine. Adul only requires 4-5 keys to play and rarely has a situation that isn't handled by copious amounts of Fireball. WoW gives me alot of time to think... and it gives a tiny window into my past.

You see it's simple. When I played Dawnstalker I was in good health, emotionally, spiritually and psychologically in top shape. I was ruthless and cunning to my enemies and kind and loving to my friends. I had an eye for detail, patience and insight. Aside from a few debacles here and there I was well known on the server and generally well liked. Dawn was the very ideal of the perfection I seek in my life.

However when my real life turned sour so did my persona. The guild I poured myself into building turned on me and fell into ruin. Which mattered little to me because of the chaos and desperation I faced in reality. I could have easily turned back to the fictional world of Azaroth and buried myself so deeply in it that reality disappeared. But I didn't and it was a very long time before I did return.

After all that happened I couldn't bear the idea of playing Dawn anymore, the memories she brought back literally physically hurt me. So I used my first high level character Adul (Transfered from my old server of Kel-thuzad). Adul was another era entirely for me, It was with Adul that I learned I had skills in leadership, organazing and group tactics. Adul was training for Dawn and I didn't fully understand that until I dusted him off and played him again.

When I finished leveling Adul I quickly got to work on his raiding gear. For those of you who don't know much about games of this genre... it requires a fair amount of time commitment to gather all the things needed for truly great gear. In Adul's case it's Spellfire.... now like the name suggests it's built for characters who use magical fire and the materials for it mainly drop off guys that are completely immune to fire. That means Adul would require an obscene amount of time to craft his gear. (My frost damage being quite sad.) Dawn however can kill these troublesome mobs effortlessly; painful as it was if I wanted to advance I had to play Dawn.

If playing Adul is easy then playing Dawn is a hundred times more so. When I stopped playing her she had the best gear in the game and a signficant stockpile of resources. The memories she invoked lead me to a line of thinking I had pondered and discarded long ago. You see I can see how different I am compared to before. I have a weak sense of self and I constantly seek approval and attention. Before I was happy sitting in the shadows watching (I had an ego then too and wasn't afraid to show it off... but this is just pathetic now) and enjoying the satisfaction of my work.

My self esteem isn't the primary cause for concern. Dawn invoked powerful memories of betryal in me. I realized for the first time that my failure to resolve them was still causing me pain. I'm not even talking about WoW mostly. When my world collapsed I was hurt and angry... in turn I hurt others and became hated. There are hundreds of studies that document the link between emotional health and physical health. There are even afew books I own that cover it in great deal. I think perhaps I buried my pain so deeply that it transformed itself.

I get angry now for no reason, I get depressed over nothing. I have pain that I have never in my entire life felt. For most of my life I never got angry; I was even-tempered and calm. Depression was occasional but never lasted long.

Playing Dawn helped me remember that when I had problems I would attack them face on, when something was wrong I fixed it right away. There are many many people that have hurt me and that I am have hurt... many of whom no longer speak to me. Could it really be the answer? Will my body heal when my heart and soul no longer feel this burden?
I'm going to revisit this. But for now I must rest.

Clutter

Today I was bored.

I’ve had this problem my whole life; I have unwatched DVDs on my shelf, unfinished games for every console I own, stacks of books to read and dozens of projects that require urgent attention.

So I spent the first half of my only day off this week doing completely nothing. After some delicious café rio I went on a shopping trip and got the next book in “the age of discovery” series. After that I tried to play some La Pucelle on my PS2.

The problem I have with La Pucelle is I’ve thrust deeply into the game without much leveling or taking time to build my team. It’s gotten to the point where I am vastly under leveled and the irony therein is the crafty tactics and skillful use of purification tiles I’ve been using doesn’t grant any XP. So the game is actually punishing me for playing well. If I played the game like a generic hack ‘n slash romp I would be level 18 instead of 12 and not frustrated with the sudden maddening increase in game difficulty. It’s gotten so bad that unless I level I cannot progress any further in the game.So rather then the much hating task of leveling I turned my attention to more then two years worth of paper backlog.

Every time I design something I write it down, every time I hear something or feel something I try to write it down, every interesting thought, dream and experience gets written down. Throw that on top of everything I write professionally, scholastically or for practice and it adds up. Then add on medical paperwork, bills, magazines, work requests and correspondence that accumulated while I was sick and during my move. To make matters worse the vast majority of it is unsorted or roughly sorted.

My mind is surprisingly orderly, with thoughts that run in logically sorted paths or trees. Often I’m able to handle large abstract concepts by building them out of smaller concepts. I might have a hard time remembering a specific fact or concept but I can “backtrack” and find it with a few moments of thought. The way I organize my files mirrors those thoughts; and although it makes perfect sense to me almost nobody else can understand it. My files are sorted first by what category of my life they go into. Personal, professional or social; then they are sorted by genre, then by Genre again.

For example I have files on role-playing: I have file for 1st. 2nd and 3rd edition D&D, Shadowrun, Whitewolf, Paranoia, various homebrew’s, JRAS, GURPS, Palladium and BESM. Then I take it a step further and isolate the game folders by setting; in my Drakkor setting alone I have 8 folders. I also have folders for extra character sheets (Shadowrun, D&D 2nd and 3rd edition and Whitewolf specifically.) and future character concepts.

The idea of organizing them alphabetically, chronologically or randomly doesn’t make sense to me. Instead everything is ordered according to use. 3rd Edition Drakkor stuff is in the front, Palladium and JRAS is in the back.

Thankfully my formal writing, research, design and role-playing is formatted and sorted pretty well. The big problem is what I call scraps.Scraps are anything I start to write and give up; scraps are half or fully formed ideas that I write down and stuff into my pocket. Scraps are interesting designs that I scribble on the back of a receipt while I’m working or driving. I have unsorted scraps from as far back as high school. Many of them were the genesis of ideas that later became thesis papers, stories, character/class designs or philosophical musings. Each layer reveals a very orderly progression of my natural thinking. To see those little seedlings of ideas on paper touches me in a strange way: I can really see my mind at work in microcosm.

It has however added up to the point where I have dozens of pages of rewritten scraps and only a fraction of my way into that epic pile of ideas. Add to that old dance pictures, playing cards, recipes, awards, phone numbers from long forgotten girls, manuals for video games and other odds and ends that have ended up in my oversized box of scraps.

This is both a task that is both complex and inane. When it is done I will have a database of my thought processes stretching back into the formative era of my career; both as a game designer and a writer.

Cha-cha changes

It’s been awhile since I’ve updated my blogs; for this I am deeply sorry.
Recent shifts in priorities have put writing on a back burner; and to be honest more then just my priorities have shifted.

My health has made a good comeback. I have at excellent control over the migraines now. Everything is getting better in some measure. I came to realize that the path my life was on simply wasn’t moving the way it should. The progress was too slow and I felt isolated from the world while trying to perfect my technique as a writer. My true strength as a writer is in my ability to observe what others overlook; in isolation I see far less and consequently become enamored with trivialities and abstractions, so I took a local retail job. Normally it would be way beneath my pay scale, but since I also get commissions I can put both my knowledge of human psychology and technology to work (and the possibility of make a killing in sales: which thus far I have.)

So no more freelance writing, all the writing I do from now on is game design, novel writing and blogging. I still have some projects that are moving along nicely and when the time is right I’ll reveal them on one of my blogs. In the meantime I’ve been working on catching up with several smaller projects….

For example: I’m updating all my old blog posts! Yes that means spell check will be employed this time. I’m also removing some stuff that might be considered offensive and stuff that is too personal for other people. In all honestly I never actually thought I’d write in the blog and consequently didn’t put any effort into it. I still “really” don’t pour my effort into it. But at least I’m more… considerate now. In the future I think I'll write more consistantly as I have more creative energy to expend.

For those who have asked: The novel and module are on hiatus until I finish the first project on my list: The re-write of my setting sourcebook. To me nothing is more important to effective storytelling then milleu and back-story. I felt that without a more complete sense of the world my characters lived in I couldn’t write the kind of story I had planned for.

The last piece of news is we adopted a new kitten named Warren; although his breed is Russian Blue he has kind of a light gray color. He’s playful but still learning that mountain dew is for people and toes shouldn’t be bitten. I have to admit I find his playful and loving personality quite refreshing. Once you have earned an animal’s trust it gives its love completely and without hesitation. It’s also truly great bonus that he is named after Warren Moons of Ogre Battle fame; and it really suits him with the gray wizened look and all.

More tomorrow; ciao.