Writer's Block and Spoiler Talk

 

Everyone who wants to write has it. Or something like it. My book has been dragging for ages, and it's drowning in my inadvertent urge to polish every last line. I suppose that comes from part of the very approach and methodology the book outlines, but that's not the whole of it. Another vital part of the manuscript's focus is on knowing when to stop planning, stop refining, and just let the chips fall where they may.

Finding that balance is where so many writers struggle. The manuscripts are there, they just haven't yet revealed themselves. They exist in the minds of their writers, simultaneously both complete and incomplete. Perhaps 'untranslated' might be a better way to describe it. The concepts, the phraseology, the characters, the facts and figures - they're all there... somewhere.

What stops so many is the fear of doing them justice- but one must also consider the Pottery Class Parable and recognize that hypothetical success does not come without the understanding born of experimentation, effort, failure, and improvement.

To some extent, this blog is my vehicle for development. It's somewhere I can write things down that I want to write, and that deserve to be read. Sometimes the problem is not having enough to build a coherent narrative. Other times, it's that the information holds secrets that aren't mine to share. Most often though, it's that I turn out something and think 'that should go in the book', and then it's tucked away.

I'm not worried about theft, though it happens all the time. Perhaps some part of me is thinking about showing things in their proper order- of what you might call spoilers. Many people have Opinions on the importance of avoiding such things, and fight against them as best they're able. The notion bothers me much less than it might, something that comes from a mix of my approach and my experience.

To me, the most important thing about spoilers is that they only matter when the story isn't strong enough to bear the weight of a lost surprise. Knowing the plot of a film or a novel in advance doesn't make the novel itself better or worse. You probably know what's said, and by whom, at the end of The Empire Strikes Back. The movie is still extraordinary- the knowledge changes naught. Foreknowledge never dampens the thrill for me because the thrill of the unknown is only one variety among a great many. Indeed, knowing the end might well spur the desire to discover the path traveled to get there.

A road to a far-off place doesn't change in length when you find out that's where you're going.
The flavor of your favorite dish doesn't lessen every time you eat it. (You might think so- but trust the chef.)
Your life isn't worthless just because you know how it ends. (It still might be, but that's another topic entirely.)

So don't worry about spoilers when it comes to writing any more than you might at any other time. There's no better way to overcome that worry than to see words appear on the page in front of you, either. If you know an ending, start writing how to get there. If you have a beginning, write what happens next. If you know something happened, write how or why. Be vague if you have to, and precise where you can. Details are laid upon shape and form, but those shapes and forms must be before they might.

Scholarship

A discussion I had this morning led me to revisit a relentlessly bothersome notion. While well-read by any, even every metric, I have no formal degree more advanced than my B.Sci. As an educator and professional, that causes endless difficulties when looking for work. Being a better teacher than plenty of people with teaching degrees grates on me when I see them in front of a lecture hall. Knowing there are JWU alumni (with degrees identical to mine) that I wouldn't have let graduate seventh grade has always been infuriating too.

Still, those horrors don't make my own development any less valuable or impactful, just less likely to make me a suitable living. In a great many circles, I'm the X-Factor. The one possessed of the broadest knowledge base and most comprehensive universal perspective, and an asset to scholars and researchers more aggressively specialized than I- the provider of missing links.

A former classmate with her PhD in Japanese History: "I wonder where Yamamoto Yae got that Spencer carbine of hers in the middle of a war that made shipping hard?"

Me: "Probably Civil War surplus. Maybe through Russel and Co.- American trading company based in Hong Kong. I think maybe they had another office in Yokohama?"

Her: "...*the LOUDEST gasp*"

It's the random little things that can open the door for a tidal wave of expanded knowledge. The butterfly effect in scholarship is very real, which is why cross-discipline communication is so incredibly important. Perspective grows more complete as information connects, not merely as it accumulates.

Modern Media's Communication Crises

    

    It's rarely pleasant but always interesting and informative to see what happens to social circles when communication hubs change.

I restarted this blog in part to ensure there was some sort of nominally independent, vaguely stable location where I could be found or contacted, as well as ensure I had a place to write without overmuch bother. Not that I really cared about being bothered before. Moderating my Twitch stream is an exercise in real-time manners management, so comments I can take my time to respond to are easy.

But that's not what I consider a concern. It's that the vast majority of the Internet's everyday interpersonal communication has been slowly, deliberately guided into very narrow channels, and funneled through a shrinking number of websites and services. Nominally for user convenience, but underneath it's mostly for data mining and ad placement. These things happen slowly, and companies tend to willingly do it at a loss for a long while- because they can afford to. Eventually the public stagnates sufficiently to become a captive audience, at which point comes inferior service, ad farms, and price gouging. Case in point: the car services and bnb-makers. The notion of "XYZ-as-a-(expensive subscription) service" for something that used to be a product is another major worry. I need look no further than the OS on this machine to see the problem with that- fundamental components like a word processor now require logins? Authorizations? It's a terribly unethical attempt to gouge the consumer, and that's on every PC around the world! 

Now the bird is circling the train, but Discord still exists, the mammoth is slowly growing, and Jack's second try seems to have gained an unfortunate amount of momentum. They're all rather fragmented though, and don't seem to be able to offer as much of the streamlined contact and information transfer that's been de rigeur all through these Years Of Plague. Worse yet, so much of modern life is internet-adjacent, what happens when a major online nexus withers and dies? The potential loss of past archives would be immeasurable... and would make for obvious easy ransom demands from the ethically bankrupt tech sector- whoops, tautology!

The idea of reestablishing a social media presence is nothing new, but there's also a lot of potential social baggage involved. Will you remember everyone? Can you contact them? Will you contact them? The machinations can become very complicated very quickly, even for those not 'aggressively online'.

Perhaps someday I won't be the one that reaches out first to reconnect.

Would much really change, I wonder?