Tag Archives: Thought

I lied about loving my story, because I didn’t know I loved it.

A family friend asked me what my book was about yesterday, and I lied.  It wasn’t a conscious thing, and I didn’t even realize I had done so until thinking about it more today.

“I hear you’re writing a book.  What’s it about?” they asked.

I didn’t have a simple answer.  I didn’t even know how I really felt about the story as a whole or writing it or anything else, so I fell back on feigning a degree of almost disinterest in the book, and slightly mocking it.  Looking back, though, it simply wasn’t true.

How do you explain a complex story to someone?  I can give them the “storyline” for the book I’m writing, but the storyline for the individual book does little for anyone without the knowledge that it’s the first book in what will need to be a series.  I can give them that “storyline”, but it leaves so much out that I almost don’t WANT to say it, because it sounds almost deceptive in it’s simplicity.

I feigned disinterest in writing the book as well, as if it wasn’t “what I want to write about”, something that I have thought before, because it’s not “a reflection of what I tend to read/think/etc”.  But that’s not really true either.

Granted, the story I’m working on is not G3R4LD’s tale, and that’s the one I WANT to write, but I want to have what I write be READ first, you know?  So, this story being more in the realm of things people tend to purchase in order to read, this is the one I’m working on first.

There’s a story by David Eddings, a portion of the “Belgariad” and “Mallorean” series, where a sorcerer in training is instructed by his master to investigate a flower and return to his master when he has discovered all there is to know about it.  He studies the flower for weeks, finally returning to his master with what he learned.  His master asks, “Is that ALL there is to learn from the flower?”

He returns to studying the flower, getting to know details he hadn’t learned before, spending months this time.  He returns to his master who again asks, “Is that all?”

He returns to studying the flower again.  He curses the undying flower, as he pours hours and days and weeks and months, eventually years into the study of this one accursed flower.

Finally, he returns to his master and gives him what he has learned.  His master says, “Perhaps you should grind the flower into a fine powder and see what can be learned from it then.”

The sorcerer is aghast.  “No, master, please!” he says.

“Why not?” asks the master.

The sorcerer hesitates, finally blurting out, “Because I love the flower!”


I think that is where I’m at.  On the surface, this was not a story I would have chosen to write.  I have poured hours of thought into the story, gotten to know the characters more and more.  This story plagues my dreams at this point, and I have wished I could point out happenings to the characters at times, knowing they would appreciate them.

I have come to love the story.  At first, it was a job I wanted to do and do well.  It’s becoming a passion.

No, that’s not true either.  It’s not “becoming”.

It simply is my passion, now.

I want to write this story and give these characters life outside of my own mind.  9/3-I hope to write a bit, but I’m not definite on that.  The goal for this week, though?

9/6/13-I want to have 10,000 words written.  It can be complete garbage, but it will be 10,000 words of my first draft.

Now for the hard question.  What is the book about?

A young woman loses everything, but gains an entire world.

That’s the storyline for Book 1, anyway.  It may change as I write the book, but that’s the one I’m going to answer that particular question with for now.



David Eddings on wikipedia

Book 1 of “The Belgariad” by David Eddings

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Filed under Creative ideas, For followers, Thoughts

On bipolar…

I posted this on http://forfreepsychology.wordpress.com/  Like it here, like it there.  🙂



I am not Bipolar.  I have Bipolar.  It is not me, and I live with it, but I do not allow it to have me.

I know, this is all quibbling with language, but when we use language to think, to define ourselves and who we are, our words and their meanings become vital.  All to often, people are classified, or classify themselves as “Bipolar”, as if it were a nationality, culture, heritage or something that defines who we are.

I refuse.

Cancer patients don’t call themselves,”Cancerous”, although Cancer decides much of what they do and how they live.  They have Cancer.  Some lie down and allow their lives to go the way they go.  Some fight tooth and nail.  Some ignore it completely, living with it to the end.  There may be an exception somewhere to this, but I haven’t met anyone who said,”I am cancerous.”  They have it.

So, that’s my attitude.  It’s not for everyone, and if you are a “Bipolar” and embrace it, then good for you.  It’s not for me.

How do I fight?

First of all, I take the position that, despite the way my decision making abilities are tied to my emotion and energy and the way that they don’t always make any rational sense, I am the decision maker here.  If I choose to start behaving in a way that is a danger to myself or someone else, I made that choice.  I own it.  It may have been a poor choice, and may have been helped along by having Bipolar, but I made the decision to do X.  No one made me do it but me.

This position has it’s good and bad points.  It allows me to claim control over something, when internally it’s as if I’m mostly an observer.  Society appears to be all in favor of me lying down and claiming,”But, I’m bipolar, and I am out of control.”  I don’t want that.  I am 36 years old.  I’m a father, and if one of my kids says,”I was out of control”, as a parent, I still punish them for acting badly.  I have more control than a 4 or 8 or 12 year old, even if that control extends only to,”This is getting too hard, I need help.”  It allows me to live and be productive and helpful and a positive influence on my friends and family.  It makes me “happy”.

Secondly, I pay attention.  I pay a LOT of attention to what is going on with me internally.  For example:  Right now, I am a tad stressed, but not bad.  I’m on an “upswing” towards a potential hypo or hyper manic phase, but I won’t know how far it will go until I get there, but I know it bears careful attention to my sleeping patterns and closer scrutiny of decision making.  My chest has that odd “excitement/panic/fear/happiness” tingle to it.  My muscles are “sparkly” as I describe it, that sensation of when the adrenalin is about to drop into your system before a competitive race or something.  My thoughts are quick, but not racing, yet.  This all means that my patience is less, my temper is shorter, and I should probably not make any major decisions on my own and without reflection right now.

I know what I need to do, and the decision is mine as to whether to do the things that will allow me to continue to live and be a “good” influence on those around me or not.

Third, I try to focus my energy on things that are intangible , if I have an excess.  If I am manic and not sleeping, I will try to make myself consider philosophical thoughts, and if possible, engage someone in discussion.  Maybe I’ll pay attention to a social issue, and research it until I feel that I can come to a reasonable conclusion.  Maybe I’ll work on some creative writing.  I know that, me being me, I should try to avoid people that might take advantage of my heightened energy and such until it calms down.

I know what you may be thinking,”That’s not what so many other people say/think/write”.  Nope.  It’s not.  This is what works for me and how I think.

Should Bipolar be fought against or embraced?  I think that’s a decision each of us has to make on our own.  To me, embracing bipolar means “riding the roller coaster”, or more accurately, trying to form my life to where the roller coaster takes me.  If it were just me that I was responsible for, this might be a reasonable choice for me, but other people are effected by everything I say and do.  I choose to accept this responsibility to those people I love and care about and try to set aside my own feelings as I can.

Sometimes, it gets to be too much, and I have to tell everyone that I must take a break.  They can react how they like, but sometimes I have to tell the rest of the world that, for a little while, they can all go hang, or they will be without my influence.  This is a complication to the way I deal with life that the average “boss” will not accept or understand, and that’s ok.  I live within the means that I am able to create for myself or have access to.

I am an individual.  I am not Bipolar, I have it.  It does not define me, that is something I choose.  I do not fit into the “bipolar” category.  I don’t think that anyone really does.  Sometimes I am up so high that the world seems distant and beside the point.  Sometimes I’m so low that the world is monster threatening to destroy me.  It is not those times where I can do this stuff on my own.

So, I work on it.  I think through things, to the point that I research and plan things to the point of it being ridiculous at times.  My thought process is slow and complex, as I sort through information and determine the importance of it in order to come to a decision.  The way I do things internally doesn’t work out very well if I choose to follow an unplanned impulse.  I don’t do well in oral conversation, not having time to think about what I’m trying to say or having an easy way to rewind what has been said and make sure that my own impressions are accurate.  It allows me to live, though, and I’m used to it now.

There have been times I was in a hospital because, well, that’s where the rollercoaster had taken me.  I rode the rollercoaster into a dark, seemingly unending depression, or a manic phase dotted with delusions and hallucinations, or worse, into some bizarre mix of hyperactivity and depression, or a complete lack of energy and a nice dose of racing thoughts and grand ideas that, while grand, were impossible.

It has not been an easy road.  I did not get to this point at the flip of a switch or by taking a magic pill.  I have been fighting for 20 years since my first episode.  Therapy, meds of various kinds, and lots and lots of internal work and thought and reflection.

I know that it only takes a small slip to wind up back in a hospital, so I am careful.  If I see that I am on the way “up” or “down” or otherwise entering a realm where my decisions may not be the greatest, I try to act ahead of time, talking to people who will help me to make good decisions and good choices that allow me to continue.  If the help I get in “public” is not enough, then I may seek something more intensive, but I avoid that option if possible.

I am not bipolar.  I have it.  It does not define me.  I do that.  This is my mantra.  Every day that I wake up and lead a relatively normal appearing existence is a success.  Every day that I wake up and simply live, exist, function enough to get things done that make others’ lives easier is a success.  The only failure, for me, is to board the rollercoaster and raise my hands and let life happen to me.

Will it work for you?  That’s up to you.  Do I think anyone else should or should not choose to fight and live as I do?  No.  That’s up to you and your life and situation.  This is mine though.

It’s my life.  Because I am not bipolar.  I am me.  I am an individual.  I can not be defined as bipolar any more than I can define you as bipolar.  Who you are is your choice.  It may be the only choice you get to make, so make the choice that will make you happy and that will allow you to live as well as possible.

But, I define myself, and I am not bipolar.  I have it.




Filed under Mental Health, Philosophical Q&A, Thoughts

Things I want to write about that are still “cooking”

14039385-illustration-of-a-chef-expressing-disgust    These thoughts are undercooked!


A lot of times, I don’t have anything to say, because I’m still “cooking” the thoughts.  I don’t focus on things very efficiently, so the things I want to write about settle in similarly to the “background” applications that slow down your computer.  Here are some of them, in no particular order.  If you see one you are interested in, please, comment on it, or write a piece on it and comment a link back to me.

  • What is a tyranny?  What does it look like to the citizens and how does it function?  Possible fictional piece.
  • Parenting piece-probably random
  • Importance of honesty in a society-philosophy/social
  • Building a universe-fiction background and setting for future work
  • Is hope a good thing or a bad thing?  -philosophy

There are others, but these are on ‘top’ right now.  🙂


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Slow, methodical thought, speech, and writing frustration

I try hard to be a slow, methodical thinker.  I think it comes from having a stuttering problem when very young and having speech therapy, where I learned to think the words before saying them.

I’m still not very good at conversation, as it seems to have instilled a delay from thought to speech.

When writing, though, I can put that away.  I don’t type out misspoken words, and I have the time, generally, to consider what I have said before putting it out there.

Writing, though, tends to give me what I can only describe as a “high”.  I get excited about the act of writing, and the subject matter is inconsequential.  Every word leads to a sentence, a thought transferred into something that is real and powerful, and there is value in every word, even if only because I put the words together so that they might be read.  I type as I think, without the delay.

What happens, though, is that when I am faced with something long and involved, thoughts for a grand story, or a long essay which draws on research, I stumble around.  The thoughts, unrestrained, jumble together and I have to stop and sort them out, or try to keep up, typing them out in an orgy of near nonsense.

You’d think that planning out my words would help, but then I get lost in the miniscule details.  I then look up at the overall project, and I’m overwhelmed by the scope.  Can this be done?  Should I invest all this time into writing something which may, in turn, be received with utter derision, or worse, ignored?

At this point, my brain empties.  The planned words leave me.  The poetic description of scenes that string together into a story become hazy and hard to perceive, and I feel like I’m trying to grasp individual strands of spider silk as they float past on the breeze.

The problem I face, is how to get the images, the scenes that I form in the quiet times of my mind, without pen or paper or computer, recorded so that I can insert them into a story and tie them all together in a way that makes sense.

It’s something I struggle with, and something I hope to find a way to overcome.

Another thing I want to do is figure out how to seperate the many stories that are floating around in my head.  While thinking about multi-generational ships and the adventures that colonists might find themselves experiencing, I’ll suddenly be thrust down a different path, thinking of G3R4LD and his less than bright abductors as they hurtle through space, and then I wander down another road which begins with the question,”What if?” and leads me into a fantastic tale where scientists rip the fabric of reality and find themselves working with power that can only be described as magic.

Focus is the key, something I do poorly at best.  If I had time with silence (something that is quite the commodity in a house with 5 children under 12) I might be able to really give these things the thought process time that I really want to, perhaps set them into forms I feel could be used.  Instead, children are talking to each other or to me, their electronics draw my attention, the house and the things which need to be done draw my attention.  The next meal I need to make draws my attention.

My creative mind gets folded up and placed into a leaky box, and the stories in my mind ebb and flow and deplete with time, and I despair at the loss of the grand ideas to the point that I end up walking away from the story, unwritten or incomplete.

Someday, though.  Someday, I will get those stories down and they will be stories that I enjoy even if I am the only one that enjoys them.  Until then, I have to clean the house and fold the clothes and feed the children and make sure the bills get paid and…

(note to the reader-notice how this took several different directions.  would it surprise you to know that when I started, it was going to be about slow, methodical thought and how it helps me when I can do it?  every time I stopped to react to something, the direction changed, words were lost, and it became this.)

Back to the world.

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