Thursday, April 4, 2013

Just like that, the novel fizzled out, cooling as quickly as it had ignited. I won’t say it’s dead, even though reality would likely claim as much, because there’s always the hope that it’s simply dormant. Maybe inspiration will strike again, one lazy spring afternoon, and we’ll pick up where we left off. Highly unlikely, I know. On the plus side, my new pleather notebook has been a pleasure to write in, and I’ve been filling it with other stuff, so I guess there’s that.

There are two things I’ve come to appreciate a lot more after this exercise. First, it takes a special kind of sand to be able to create something on the side while holding a day job. It’s the tyranny of the 9 to 5, and I get why people quit to pursue their passion projects. The other thing was a question we grappled with repeatedly: “How do we know this is interesting to other people and not just us?” I get you can’t be all things to all people. I get that. But when I listen to the creators of my favorite media–be it a movie, show, book, or a game–hold forth on their work in interviews, it’s like they know their stuff is good.

Perhaps it’s because these interviews tend to happen after the fact, when a piece has already garnered critical or financial acclaim, but there’s something there. It goes beyond confidence. Swagger can be affected, after all. It’s deeper, a kind of conviction that your work will delight. With the novel shelved, I’ve moved onto the next thing: a new game, built on the embers of the old one. I’ve started penning the backstory, and I’m cautiously pessimistic.