Ink, Ideas, and Stamps
A rough hand on a raw page
Hey! How is your handwriting?
Mine has never been very good. I believe even that statement is downplaying the lack of any clear aesthetic qualities my letters may or may not possess.
I even remember being assigned extra work in elementary school in an attempt to improve my crooked, uneven, and sloppy lettering.
However, I never felt much of an improvement. I did suffer many hand cramps though. And I’m not bringing this up just to brag about my lack of skill.
It’s all a reflection of a radical decision I made to handwrite everything I plan to send out on StampFans.
For those who missed it, I explained the idea behind what I’m calling Monthly Moss a few weeks ago, but the details were drowned out by everything below the fold.
If you forgot or are unsure whether or not you’d want to receive more of my nonsense, well the promo code lets you see what it’s all about in a pretty risk-free way.
Regardless of how many subscribers, I’m looking forward to discovering how I can use the platform as an artistic outlet.
Settling on the concept of handwritten letters should take me in a different direction. I will still be working with words, but without an infinite “undo” and other conveniences to smooth out disjointed thoughts. That should carve out a new niche for the authenticity I crave.
Indeed, there’s something very personal about the raw energy found in ink pressed upon a page.
Three Wishes
All this talk of jumping into a new medium has me reflecting on the values of my emotional core.
I’ve boiled it down to three things I hope my readers learn about me through my writing:
1. Hope Is Absurd
There is no escaping doubt. Challenging the rational answers found in nihilistic despair requires a leap of faith. It’s worth jumping into the chaos to find something more. The defiant act of wishful thinking proves we’re still alive, even with nothing waiting on the other side.
2. Courage In Fear
Heroic acts are not born out of innate superlative qualities. An iron will is forged from life experiences. The bravest among us are often the most afraid. Even if it’s nothing more than searching for a blue flower, following a guide who no longer knows the way.
3. Time As Enemy
The great equalizer for all life in the universe is the erosion of memory over long enough periods of time. But just as a small impact can leave its trace in longer histories, forgetful hours and mundane moments etch the finer details into how we define ourselves.
Hope, courage, and time. These core concepts may be obvious to you if you’ve read my books, but I still struggle to fully accept myself for who I am.
And while that sense of self-actualization may not quite be here yet, I have grown comfortable with the vague borders of a clearer definition for me and my style:
Hopeful Melancholy
Understanding my personal preferences and how they come together to tell a story is especially rewarding when I notice others already see it in me.
As a solid example, take a look at this recent review for Significatorius:
Or maybe it’s just the autumn in the air.
Vindem, after all, is meant to reflect the colder weather that comes with the biggest harvests.
The way humanity holds warm celebrations before embracing the coldest season of the year.
I would say the ways I mix and match weather and emotions fall well within the bounds of what I aim to do and what I am to be as an author and a writer.
🧣 Bittersweet romance and the performance of a lifetime
Nightly Collection
And as for other projects on the horizon, I have an idea for something new. I’ve spent a lot of time writing short little pieces of flash fiction here on Nightly Noise, but it mostly gets lost to time as one week moves into the next.
I’m thinking about compiling everything I’ve written so far into a quick little book: Nightly Noise Vol. 1.
Rather than adding a meta-story like I did with Lux Aeterna, I’d leave it just as the little narrative snippets I originally wrote. I’d want to fully embrace the “flip to any page and read” aspect of an anthology.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve been reflecting on how I use this space. Weekly, spontaneous ideas fleshed out into longer narratives. It’s never consistent and not always coherent, but it is authentic and raw.
And I suppose before I go, I’d like to invite you one more time to join the journey as I walk into a new medium.
So, if you’re curious to see how these themes translate into a handwritten form:
Until next time,
—JMB