I suppose it was inevitable. I get so immersed in my writing – must, because I “go there” and become part of these people, ride along with them like a ghost in the night or a spy-cam with night-vision – that I Become One With The Characters. It is long since a given that I run around in the quiet of The Garrett, talking and arguing with myself – and replying, too. Maybe even in voices, if not tongues.
But what am I to do with the rest of my brain left behind on Planet Earth?
I’m not sure, and it gives me little rest. It’s as if, once I am out of the communion zone with the muse, all the other aspects of ego start knocking on the door. Frantically. I’m so fried from writing I was nodding off at the keyboard a while ago, but now that I’m away from it (at another keyboard, the laptop, where I foolishly paused to write a personal note or two before going to bed)- it seems like every part of me that’s squashed out of sight while Writing now comes clamoring forth. I am caught up in left-brain thinky things; in geeky issues about php code, and curiosity about secret (now declassified) intelligence revealed by Steven Aftergood in his Secrecy News newsletter. My passion for futurism (think Toffler’s Future Shock and The Third Wave, and Naisbitt’s Megatrends, ground-breaking works all) is piqued by Patricia Martin’s new book Rengen: The Rise of the Cultural Consumer, about the emergence of a new cultural paradigm out of what old-wave folk perceive as a “cultural wasteland of reality tv and fast food.”
This is complemented by the provocative oddity of knowledge and information management expert Fred Nickols, a student of Peter Drucker’s teachings, and his two papers I found back to back in an info widget (see very bottom of sidebar): his 1983, revised for 2003, textbook classic piece,
The Shift to Knowledge Work(I can no longer find this at the original link, but a summary of his main points can be found here) - and his rethinking of the issue a short 5 years later in Knowledge Work is a Myth.
Now these things have spawned several blog posts, or better said, essay topics I want to write about in this blog, or perhaps on a static page. But can I? NO. I daren’t, because I must chill out and recharge the batteries so I can get up again shortly and journey to a galaxy far, far away, with its own set of conundrums. There, I’m just as engaged with a different set of attention-grabbing issues: the internal politics of a criminal organization, the power vacuum left when a polity’s infrastructure is crushed along with the rebellion that sheltered there, and what products and slogans capture the essence of the consumer aspects of a foreign/alien culture.
That’s the short list at this moment, anyway. At the end of the day, I have to trust that my respective schizoid halves will run around without me and latch onto whatever they want and need to, pursue it as far as they desire, and that good will come of it. It usually does. The trick is in relaxing, and going along for the ride.
I’m still working on that.
I’ll let you know how it comes out.