If a car comes that close to hitting you that your phone breaks yet you still continue to go on to purchase some books doesn’t say, “I like literature”, then, quite frankly, I don’t know what does.
This reminds me of a thing I learned about in my genetics class. There are wealthy people out there who get their dogs cloned. Over and over the dog dies and is cloned so the owner doesn’t have to face the inevitability or finality of the death of a loved one. So if the dog has a genetic predisposition to cancers or something else always it will be born and die of that same cancer. There’s got to be some Schopenhauerian metaphor here about suffering and allowing suffering to continue because we refuse to accept things.
Oh my god dude, I'm freaking the hell out right now. That's me in the article! I cannot stop smiling. I did a quick scroll to the bottom and then I just lost it. Sent Dennis my info. Give me a minute, I will read the rest once I calm down. I feel like one of Oprah's audience members who got told to check under his chair.
I have a question I've been looking for a convenient time to ask it but, what the hell..
Almost all stories I come up with deal with dark subjects. Thats what I'm drawn to, and I don't know why. Whenever I'm a dozen pages onto one, I stop fearing for my sanity, because It
frightens me. Writing scares me, simply put but, I can't help but return to pen and paper.. I wanna make it work. So, here's the question: Is this normal for writers ( Beginners like myself or experienced ones) ? How can I distance myself from what I'm writing about, while at the same time not leave anything out and be as open, vulnerable and brutally honest?
I’ve often thought, “Everyone needs a villain,” which helped explain the bullshit we busy ourselves with. But I never considered why that is. Now it’s clear: our ancient brains need to vent the tension. Thanks, Chuck.
I love The Hunger. Thank god for my musician friend who introduced me to both The Hunger and Flannery O'Conner AND made me circle back around to Alien.
This makes me think of our shadow self. What it takes to move on. I often think about military training and what it takes to drive a young man/woman from being a normal civilian into a killing machine. It doesn't take too much. I often think that we were born as predators but we have that kill-or-be-killed instinct carefully and cautiously removed as we develop and we are finally raised into adults. I think we are trained to have empathy and pretend to care about what your loved one had for breakfast. Marina Abramović famously said that she was ready to die when she stood for hours while people hit her and pushed her during her performance art piece. This seemingly docile group turned into animals within hours. Jordon Peterson talks about it all the time. Also being a completely docile push over is horrible too. It's not a good thing...Lot's to think about.
I love the faith healer pain trick, I’m going to try that one on myself next time I get a headache.
To your point that epiphanies don’t happen when you’re alone, maybe that comes to a definition of what alone means. If I’m by myself in nature, for example, I might be the only human there but there will be other living creatures around therefore I don’t consider myself alone. Nature is alive all around me. But maybe that’s just me…
“In regard to epiphanies, I hammer on my students that such revelations don’t happen to characters when they’re alone.” Is this in part because it helps to have the character observing some sort of physical setting or action? Like with your dog, you were able to observe others who were in the same situation you were. Had you been sitting alone in that waiting room, then maybe you hadn’t come to the same realization? Almost like being out of body. Also, does it matter whether the moment is high stress? Or could it be a bland moment for the character, but in a social setting? Does pairing an epiphany with a stressful event help to give it wings?
Years ago I switched to half cafe because whenever I woke up later than I usually drank my first cup of coffee, I’d end up with a migraine.
Welp, last week I ran out of half cafe and temporarily switched to the free (full strength) stuff my mother-in-law bulk buys and delivers every time she’s over.
Big mistake. Woke this morning and headed straight for the toilet with my fingers down my throat.
Step 1: puke the sip of coffee you tried to drink even though you knew you were too late and whatever other crap didn’t digest from the night before.
Step 2: force a saltine cracker down throat, wash with 7up if available.
Step 3: Two Excedrin Migraine pills, one at a time spaced at least 30 minutes apart in case you barf again.
Step 4: go back to bed. Rock on elbows and knees while shoving head into headboard (that’s why it’s called that, right?) until pills kick in.
Screaming two year and five month old complicate this process, but both of them brought their little crying faces to me and curled up and fell asleep right on top of me.
And as they did that I was thinking about metaphors and how with both of them there I felt like the Grinch on the day his heart tripled in size.
And while I was thing about that, my headache went away, and maybe it was the medicine, but maybe it was also a bit of what Chuck said about displacement. I’ll be trying more of that next time.
I don't know why this was the post that finally made me become a paid subscriber, but it was. There must be a metaphor in this somewhere...
If a car comes that close to hitting you that your phone breaks yet you still continue to go on to purchase some books doesn’t say, “I like literature”, then, quite frankly, I don’t know what does.
This reminds me of a thing I learned about in my genetics class. There are wealthy people out there who get their dogs cloned. Over and over the dog dies and is cloned so the owner doesn’t have to face the inevitability or finality of the death of a loved one. So if the dog has a genetic predisposition to cancers or something else always it will be born and die of that same cancer. There’s got to be some Schopenhauerian metaphor here about suffering and allowing suffering to continue because we refuse to accept things.
Is your dog ok? And are you ok? Sometimes an anadrelline rush can mask physical damage. Hope it's ok to ask.
This was beautiful, thank you.
Oh my god dude, I'm freaking the hell out right now. That's me in the article! I cannot stop smiling. I did a quick scroll to the bottom and then I just lost it. Sent Dennis my info. Give me a minute, I will read the rest once I calm down. I feel like one of Oprah's audience members who got told to check under his chair.
Thanks Chuck!
Chuck explains things better than any teacher I've had. I'm saving this post.
I have a question I've been looking for a convenient time to ask it but, what the hell..
Almost all stories I come up with deal with dark subjects. Thats what I'm drawn to, and I don't know why. Whenever I'm a dozen pages onto one, I stop fearing for my sanity, because It
frightens me. Writing scares me, simply put but, I can't help but return to pen and paper.. I wanna make it work. So, here's the question: Is this normal for writers ( Beginners like myself or experienced ones) ? How can I distance myself from what I'm writing about, while at the same time not leave anything out and be as open, vulnerable and brutally honest?
I’ve often thought, “Everyone needs a villain,” which helped explain the bullshit we busy ourselves with. But I never considered why that is. Now it’s clear: our ancient brains need to vent the tension. Thanks, Chuck.
Great advice. Really enjoying reading your articles and thanks for all the books you've written.
I love The Hunger. Thank god for my musician friend who introduced me to both The Hunger and Flannery O'Conner AND made me circle back around to Alien.
This makes me think of our shadow self. What it takes to move on. I often think about military training and what it takes to drive a young man/woman from being a normal civilian into a killing machine. It doesn't take too much. I often think that we were born as predators but we have that kill-or-be-killed instinct carefully and cautiously removed as we develop and we are finally raised into adults. I think we are trained to have empathy and pretend to care about what your loved one had for breakfast. Marina Abramović famously said that she was ready to die when she stood for hours while people hit her and pushed her during her performance art piece. This seemingly docile group turned into animals within hours. Jordon Peterson talks about it all the time. Also being a completely docile push over is horrible too. It's not a good thing...Lot's to think about.
I love the faith healer pain trick, I’m going to try that one on myself next time I get a headache.
To your point that epiphanies don’t happen when you’re alone, maybe that comes to a definition of what alone means. If I’m by myself in nature, for example, I might be the only human there but there will be other living creatures around therefore I don’t consider myself alone. Nature is alive all around me. But maybe that’s just me…
“In regard to epiphanies, I hammer on my students that such revelations don’t happen to characters when they’re alone.” Is this in part because it helps to have the character observing some sort of physical setting or action? Like with your dog, you were able to observe others who were in the same situation you were. Had you been sitting alone in that waiting room, then maybe you hadn’t come to the same realization? Almost like being out of body. Also, does it matter whether the moment is high stress? Or could it be a bland moment for the character, but in a social setting? Does pairing an epiphany with a stressful event help to give it wings?
Years ago I switched to half cafe because whenever I woke up later than I usually drank my first cup of coffee, I’d end up with a migraine.
Welp, last week I ran out of half cafe and temporarily switched to the free (full strength) stuff my mother-in-law bulk buys and delivers every time she’s over.
Big mistake. Woke this morning and headed straight for the toilet with my fingers down my throat.
Step 1: puke the sip of coffee you tried to drink even though you knew you were too late and whatever other crap didn’t digest from the night before.
Step 2: force a saltine cracker down throat, wash with 7up if available.
Step 3: Two Excedrin Migraine pills, one at a time spaced at least 30 minutes apart in case you barf again.
Step 4: go back to bed. Rock on elbows and knees while shoving head into headboard (that’s why it’s called that, right?) until pills kick in.
Screaming two year and five month old complicate this process, but both of them brought their little crying faces to me and curled up and fell asleep right on top of me.
And as they did that I was thinking about metaphors and how with both of them there I felt like the Grinch on the day his heart tripled in size.
And while I was thing about that, my headache went away, and maybe it was the medicine, but maybe it was also a bit of what Chuck said about displacement. I’ll be trying more of that next time.
Happy New Year to all, and to all a good night.