Feedback Loop

Somewhere past my own mind

Hey! How are you doing?

The answer to that greeting typically means even less than the question. A way to open up a conversation and get through an encounter, wanted or otherwise.

My writing—especially Maneus—attempts to go beyond irony, cynicism, and sarcasm and honestly answer such questions. Exploring ideas all too often ignored with passersby or those close by.

Examining the minutiae as a way to better understand and know the individual.

That can also make my stories uncomfortable for some. Surreal settings that dive too far into the eerie. Overexposing the parts of life we try to avoid. Piling on despair into a weight that’s too heavy to bear.

And yet, all I’m doing is recording true emotions. Neither wrong nor right, the words are simply how I feel.

I believe a part of processing difficult emotions is having a safe, comfortable space to explore and address them. Hate, love, sadness, and happiness are all a part of how we experience life.

I have the bad habit of trying to hide them all. Bottling every emotion up until the pressure goes beyond the failsafe. That has led to a lifetime of explosive outbursts filled with misdirected anger—unbridled rage.

I would rather not have these emotions control my moments, writing them into my story as a way to make sense of myself.

Gratuitously Grotesque

The book that is now Maneus went through massive changes as I worked on rewriting every line. What started as a way to possibly save time ended up taking longer than writing something from scratch.

No where was that more evident than in Book II. Expanded, updated, rewritten and more, that was the point of no return when Maneus became the story it is now.

That wasn’t completely unexpected. I knew my most amateur attempt at writing would need a lot of work. However, I also thought my writing would get better in Book III.

That’s only really partially true.

I ended up doing nearly the same amount of work as in the other Books by the time it was released.

When I first began planning out the book, I wrote those early drafts of Book III with a much clearer idea of the full arc of Maneus. I knew it would be a conclusion and wanted to ensure there was a catharsis.

The big difference after coming back to rewrite it was noticing how much I was holding back. My old versions were scared of what they were saying. I was worried about how anything bad would make me look bad.

So I committed to not holding back. I amplified every intention and even pushed myself to tears while writing my own story. The result is very raw in a primordial sense of the word.

One place this is particularly noteworthy is in the violent scenes of Book III. I pushed things further and it was no surprise to see a warning of a message from my mother as she struggled to turn the pages.

Her complaints are similar to how she did not like the climactic conclusion of Book I. For some context, the death and violence in Maneus’ corner store are tame compared to Thamboken’s life in Book III.

I bring all this up because my goal was never to shock people. I’m not aiming to surprise people with a scream or a hidden trap. But I knew it would be difficult for some to read. I’ve accepted that no story is perfect for all audiences.

Said differently, in order to make Maneus work the way I wanted, I would not compromise the real emotions and their impact.

Know Thyself

I am not a fan of horror.

I am not a fan of mindless action.

I am a fan of purposeful discomfort.

Maybe the word is psychological thriller or perhaps there’s an even more niche genre. Whatever the name, I admire those who can personify both our humanness and our inhumanness into digestible stories.

I was reminded of that by an email my uncle sent me.

Regardless of whether the words fall under the perfect menu or are filled with personally catered flavors and dishes, there can be a discussion on the dissection of discretion.

An honest look into how well my book achieves its goals. Even if Maneus is outside my uncle’s usual taste, it was nice to see him understand and appreciate what I was trying to do.

And I’m well aware of the strangeness of my style and the awkwardness in my acknowledgments. Perhaps that’s why it’s hard for me to take the compliment, however slight, as truth.

At the very least, I know I should have no problem considering the comparison to Cormac McCarthy as a raving endorsement!

Questioning Queries

The reality of trying to be an author and a writer is being hit with constant rejections. The feeling of failure digs away at the soul until most people give up and try to find stability through more reliable means.

Sometimes there’s a glimmer of hope in the endless sea of despair. I caught a glimpse of one recently. Besnowed was rejected from a publisher last week after they requested a full copy of the manuscript.

We had been sending messages back and forth and they were always optimistic about my potential, but had to turn me down in the end.

The way they did it was very nice though.

After this section, they then even suggested a few other publishers who may be better suited to take on my story.

Another glimmer of hope.

And that has me feeling not so bad.

Until next time.

Cheers,

John