Flow 01/26/21

The dreaded writer’s block hit yesterday, and it pissed me off.

I’ve been having extremely vivid dreams lately, continuous worlds and plots playing out in my head. It seems to have coincided with my current read-through of the Corpus Hermeticum, which is to be expected. Lots of mind-altering substances in those words.

Anyhow, because the dreams have been so clear, you’d think the writing would move along at a pace. Not so. Yesterday I had a few hours to work on my stuff, so I pulled up Dying World and got to it.

The manuscript is mostly a dialogue between two brothers. It’s exploring themes of paranoia and mental illness in really interesting ways. I’ll talk more about it once it’s closer to being done.

Being that the book largely hinges on dialogue, I need the characters to talk in order for the writing to move forward. And yesterday they were clamped up. They weren’t saying shit.

I think it had to do with this “caffeine water” I bought from Wal-Mart. I’m definitely not anti-caffeine, but I assume that not all of it is created equally. There’s the natural kind that you get from green tea and coffee, and then there’s the synthetic powdered kind that Wal-Mart probably dumps into it. Reminded me of the bad days, a swirling manic fog that drops off into a feeling of being completely hollow.

It got me so bummed and mad that I flipped off a juggalo on the highway. He’d gotten way too close to my bumper, typical stupid highway shit. He slowed down and we stared at each other, a couple of barking dogs separated by a fence. Then I felt stupid. What was I going to do? Beat his ass with the bat I keep under my seat? Get my ass beat with my own bat? What a silly thing to have done, to have wasted my energy on.

I got home and hopped on a Zoom call with a client to discuss his book. He had lots of questions, and was very concerned with how to make his book the best it could be. It fired me up, honestly. I think that we can all get jaded about the whole art-making process, but talking to someone who’s clearly passionate about his work turned out to be infectious. After an hour and change, we’d not only worked out some issues with the manuscript, but semi-outlined the second and third books in his series.

After that, the brothers were ready to talk again. I knocked out a solid 2k words, then read some of Gary Webb’s Dark Alliance and hit the sack. The prior night’s dreams involved a desert, and last night I was in the snow.

The mysticism of the writing process can’t be overstated. It’s a process of sinking in. It requires the phone to be put away, and for a bit of human contact. Today I started supplementing again, with Stamets 7 mushroom blend, fiber, Vitamin D, and maca powder, which I put in my protein oatmeal. I feel clearheaded. When I feel brave enough, I’ll start in on the desiccated beef heart and beef brain.

Time to see if the brothers are ready to talk again. It was getting pretty good last night.

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