Drank some wine last night, which I rarely do anymore, to try to get some perspective on what I'm doing, to orient myself.
One thing I decided was to try to write single book next, instead of one of a series. Also, maybe to try to be a little more ambitious, that is, letting myself really go for it, with the understanding that it probably will be unreadable to anyone else.
That has been my experience. When I'm writing self-indulgently, I enjoy the writing but it isn't as good a read as when I'm conscious of the reader.
The one time I did this was with Sometimes A Dragon. But it was a failed experiment, I can see that. I loved some of the imagery, but it was imagery at the expense of clarity.
So why do it?
Because I believe that any true art will be uncompromising. That instead of craftsmanship, I'm reaching for a less accessible realm.
Or maybe it's all bullshit. I don't know. Maybe it's just stretching, experimenting, learning.
Just one book where I don't think, I just write whatever comes to me. No explanation, no logical plotting. Just words on a page.
I don't know. Maybe this is just an ideal. Pure art, versus craft. Maybe there isn't such a thing.
High craftsmanship IS art, I truly believe that.
Sometimes, when I write poetry, I let myself not make sense. But that is a shorter form.
See? I'm already not making sense...
12 hours ago