I haven't really been able to write much of anything the last week or so, as my brain had gone on indefinate hiatus. But with that said...I often have trouble with the mechanical aspect of writing, i.e. actually writing things down. But the stories are always writing themselves whether I am doing anything about it or not, so...yes. It's both frustrating and wonderful, that little knack of mine.
I don't dream very much -- or at least, not that I remember. I've always been quite jealous of people who dream of their characters, because I almost never do. Yet you can tell my brain is doing odd things right now, because the other day I was half-dreaming, which is what happens when I am not asleep but not awake, and it is the time my characters are most likely to come wandering in to mess with my mind while it is partially out of my control. I was saying the other day that I had been picturing some of my characters trying to give me comfort; well, the other morning, I had quite an odd experience in which Arosek was the one who basically just gathered me up in his arms and hugged me until I gave up and just let him.
It probably says something for my sanity, that I take comfort in half-dreams of the voices in my head offering me tactile support, but it was an odd experience in that at the time I knew him -- his scent, his strength, the rumble of his voice in his chest when he laughed, the wryness of his brightest grin when he told me I had to stop being so silly all the time, of course you're not wrong, but then no-one has to be right all the time! I do know my characters well, you see, in terms of what they look and think and behave like, but this was on a whole 'nother level. Damn you, Arosek. ...it also made me feel guilty anyway, because Arosek is basically the nicest damn character I write (although people like Geenie come close; I'm fairly convinced that Aleksandr became involved with Geenie because she reminded him so much of everything he'd ever read about Arosek). But even though Arosek is lovely, I constantly write horrible angsty things about him. Poor sod. So, this evening I've been working on a bit of fluff; it was supposed to be maybe a thousand words long, but right now I have the structure and it's thirteen hundred already. Crap.
Still, it's odd to see how my mood really affects my writing. I've always known that it does, but...well. Like I said, I haven't been able to write properly until tonight, but I've spent the last couple of days scribbling furiously in one of my notebooks in an attempt to work out the ending of The Juniper Bones, and it's...proving interesting. But then the ending involves Eliot having to confront himself and his deepest desire, which is to simply stop. It's not so much a need to die, although being properly dead will achieve that for him. He just doesn't want to be anything anymore. That had personal resonance for me, because when I am this low I am just so tired. I don't want to actively harm myself, but I wouldn't turn away from it, if that makes any sense? Eliot is the same, though he can't actually kill himself anyway. But towards the end of the story he is given a way to achieving this goal, and not only does it distress the hell out of poor Tess, it also means having to lie to someone he cares for. And to someone he owes a lot to. So...yeah. When I consider it, it's all a way of exploring how truly selfish and screwed up and sad this entire process is. Which is why I only tend to write this sort of thing when my brain has already wandered off onto paths best not walked alone.
Thankfully Arosek seems to be following me around.
Trying to write something fluffy seems to be helping, at least a little. I actually feel quite ill tonight -- I ate too much dinner, and then I slept really oddly last night anyway because I nodded off twice over my laptop, and then woke up at five in the morning to discover I still hadn't put it away and had in fact gone to sleep with it sitting beside my head. Er. Maybe I need to take a step back, but then...fluff. Fluff is good for the soul. And my soul could certainly use a whole lot of goodness right now. I have to admit that it is a little bit scary to have Arosek offering me comfort, though. Because Ryenn just sits in the back of my mind while Arosek does it and...well, he doesn't glower, exactly. He's not the glowering sort. Rather, he just sits there and stares.
So there you have it. Not only is one voice in my head trying to make me feel better about myself, one of the other ones is silently plotting ways to have me beaten senseless for daring to accept it. In the end, it's probably no wonder at all that I am this messed up...
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