The Obligatory Writer Newsletter
Welcome to Nature's Corrupted, Magen Cubed's newsletter. This is a place to share writing, thoughts, observations, and personal stories at the intersection of art, fiction, and life.
Through numerous deliberate acts of self-sabotage over the last decade that I have been writing and publishing, I have not nor have I ever been known for my wisdom. Pete Wisdom is a comic book character created by Warren Ellis and Ken Lashley, who first appeared in Excalibur #86 published by Marvel Comics. He was, of course, my favorite comic book character from the impressionable ages of 9 through 18. And, uh, for a while after that, too. Looking back with adult eyes at the full context of his storylines at the time I was reading then, and the stuff that’s come out since, and. Well.
It's a good thing not to be known for that kind of Wisdom these days, either. I did spend quite a bit of time in my formative years being a bit of a terror about him online, but thankfully nobody remembers much of that.
But this month, for this newsletter, here in the sweltering heat of June 2023, I wanted to talk a bit about writing. It's the middle of the year, after all. It seems like a good time to hash out some thoughts on the craft of writing.
Of course, I chose to do this during a bit of downtime. Over the last few weeks, I've been in therapy again and starting antidepressants to deal with PTSD. That’s right -- I am newly medicated and ready to mingle. The medication, as I've discovered, made me extremely fatigued while I slowly ramped up the dose. My free time outside of work has been spent sleeping for much of May and June. I used to think I loved sleeping, but it turns out that it's actually pretty boring. I need more to fill my day than naps before, after, and sometimes on my break from my day job. (I work from home, so it doesn't take much to lure me away to sleep on the couch with the door open to let the afternoon breeze in.)
Today, however, I want to talk about writing. Or rather, the practice of writing. Because writing is a practice. Just like running, painting, or singing is a practice. Yes, like many others can tell you, I started compulsively writing stories as a child. (Often, about Pete Wisdom!) Small narratives in Number 2 pencil, four-panel comics in marker ink, fables made in a children's writing program with clip art and covers and the whole nine yards. Bad derivative mecha novels as a teenager alongside fanfiction published on LiveJournal. Short stories published on bizarro, horror, and literary fiction sites. Short stories in horror anthologies. A comic or two. A short story printed and displayed at an art exhibition. A few novels that made it to print from small presses. A short story in a prose and comics anthology. Another novel. More short stories.
Now I'm 37 and working on another series.
I cannot tell you how many books and stories litter my garden, buried beneath shade trees and marked by polished stones. I wrote hundreds of stories while I was learning to write. Millions and millions of words, some seen by human eyes. Others sit unread on degrading hard drives or wither in the pages of yellowed notebooks. I've written so many bad books, so many drafts of books, so many stories you'll never see. Some as recently as last year.
They will never be published. They will never make me any money. You will never hold them in your hands.
These stories will never make good on their own potential.
That isn't the point.
On Monday through Friday, I wake up at around 5am. My girlfriend works at 6:30, so I get up to make her coffee, fill her water bottle, and sit on the couch together for a while before she leaves. She has multiple sclerosis so sometimes little things like filling water bottles is difficult. Once she heads to work for the day, I open the patio door and shut off the air conditioner in our cramped apartment. I get my phone or tablet and settle back on the couch. Music, usually ambient or drone, slushwave or hypnagogic pop, fills the apartment while the sun comes up over the building across the parking lot. My chihuahua, Cecil, dozes off beside me. I write on my phone or tablet because I have pain from a spinal injury and nerve damage, and it's easier than sitting at a laptop. I do enough of that at my day job as it is.
With my social media accounts blocked until 9am, I write until I have to sign in at my work computer. I stop a bit here and there to stretch or do some light exercises, just like I do throughout my work day, so I don't get stiff. I have problems with my joints, too. As long as I focus on writing, that nearly three hours of time usually yields about 2000 words, sometimes 3000 if I'm on a roll. Every day, five days a week, until I'm finished with a draft.
And then I start the next one.
Onward, always, to the next.
If I'm tired, sick, in pain, or just stuck on something that needs more time to think through, I won't write. I'll rest instead. Or read some articles. Or read some media criticism. Or watch a YouTube video essay on whatever strikes my fancy that day. (Three-hour deep dives into the history of the RPG Maker horror game scene in the mid to late 2000s? Don't mind if I do.) Then I do a full day's work as a copywriter from 9am to 5pm. If I'm really on a roll, I'll write for another hour on my lunch break, getting out maybe an additional 500-900 words.
When my girlfriend gets home from work, she takes a small nap until I finish up for the day. If the weather's good, we take a walk. We have dinner and watch something together like a show or a documentary or something. At about 8:30 or 9pm, we go to bed. I'll usually read for at least an hour before I fall asleep. If I'm really, really on a roll, I'll write for that hour.
I write every single day that I physically and emotionally can, because I truly love doing it. Last year, I drafted over 120,000 words of a story that I loved intensely, writing a novella a month in an absolutely ecstatic marathon of uninhibited creative output. Now I am rewriting and revising that work, shaping it into something else. I'm currently drafting the second entry in a series of at least five books. I first envisioned this series as a short serial fiction project, but it has since ballooned in scope and ambition.
I'm not sure when you'll get to read it.
It doesn't really matter.
It will be done when it's done.
I work every day that I can to see to that.
A lot of what I wrote is reserved for the garden, buried beneath the soil, never to see the light of day. People will tell you that this is a failure. I assure you, it's not.
People will tell you to write as many books as possible, as quickly as possible. They will tell you that fast releases are all that matters. Put out a book (or more) a year or you will drown. Your name will turn to ash. Any book in a drawer is a book that isn't read, which is a book that isn't making you money. But you are learning with every book. You are growing. You are changing.
Treating writing as a practice makes it as simple as breathing. As going to the movies, the gym, or church might be for you. It gives me a routine to moor me and goals to look forward to. Write as much as possible, as a gift to myself, before I write for someone else for the working day. I don't feel tired after I take the time to write for myself -- I feel invigorated. It isn't always fun or easy. Often, it is very taxing or frustrating, but I took the time for myself and am working toward a complete vision.
Not a perfect work, but a complete statement. An encapsulation of my creative desires.
Being a writer isn't a job or function that I perform, but a part of me. It is not something that I choose to do, but something that I've never not done. I will never not be a writer, the same way I will never not be five-feet-three-inches tall, a size 10 shoe, or right handed. My eyes will always be blue. I will always have a coffee-colored birthmark on my back. And I will always, always write.
Another thing people will do is tell you that this is drudgery. I shouldn't work so hard. I shouldn't extend myself so far. I have health problems and help take care of my chronically ill girlfriend, and that means that I should rest. I should take care of myself. I shouldn't strive in service of capitalist grindset thinking or productivity gospel. But for me, writing is how I take care of myself. I am in love with my work. I am obsessed. If I don't write, I feel even more anxious and depressed. Yes, writing is labor but it is my labor and no one is demanding this of me. It is my labor to give, and I want to labor in service of myself.
None of this is about anyone else but me.
That's strange to say, isn't it? I hear that it is. People will tell you that writing is about products and services. Making entertainment for others. Making yourself seen. Making yourself known. I don't begrudge a single person who wants to be paid for their work, and wants to make a living as a writer, because you should be given the opportunity to live doing something you love, but I don't just want to write for someone else as my singular goal. To please an audience and appease the market. Thinking about how to package and present it, what trends to chase and whose name I want blurbing it. I will put these books out someday, sure, but that isn't what I'm thinking about every day that I sit down to write them.
I'm thinking about how much I love doing this. How happy I am to see my prose improve. How much fun it is to dig into a manuscript and work and rework it until I can read a passage and feel the words simply sing.
I just hope you find the same joy in writing, or your chosen medium, as I do.
You deserve that much.