Where Is It All Going

It's weird.

This all started with posting P'Thok, then writing Born Whole, then...

BOOM!

First Contact just flowed out of my fingertips. A crazed burning passion that sent me to writing as if I was possessed. I had no idea, and still for the most part, have no idea where it is going. I know the last chapter, kind of, sort of, but I'll be honest.

A lot of times, when I sit down to write, I right click on Submit, hit "Open in New Tab", and then put in the title, C&P the links, adjust the [prev] link, then copy the links, hit enter twice, and paste the links. Then hit "OC" and then the other "OC" then "Save Draft..."

Beyond that, the majority of the time, I have no clue what's about to happen.

I stare at the screen, close my eyes for a moment, and my fingers start moving. I can see the images at times, sometimes I'll type for five or ten minutes, my fingers just hammering the keys, with my eyes closed.

Then I open my eyes and watch as the words just flow out. Rarely I need to go back and adjust a sentence that somehow got garbled. For the most part, it flows from somewhere in my brain to my hands, to my fingers, to my keys, and onto the Submit box.

It's something insane. I don't understand it. I don't know where it comes from. I had no idea how to handle what was happening with Nakteti. I didn't want to do guerilla warfare and the like, I wanted Nakteti to handle it badly, to make mistakes, but not wade through blood.

All of that flowed out.

Same with what's happening with Lady Keena. I don't know how she's going to get rescued, I have no idea what's going to happen next. I have no idea what's going to happen with the two resurrected troops.

It's in there. I can feel it. Once in a while my brain tosses up a fragment of a line or maybe a snatch of conversation, but for the most part, it's in there, simmering, cooking, baking.

I'll be honest, the majority of the time I don't know what I'm going to type. I don't know what today's chapter is going to be, or tomorrow's chapter. I just know how the workflow works.

Sit down. Right click on submit...

If I don't, I get anxious, I get agitated, I pace, I can't seem to sit still.

And yes, I've talked with my mental health tech about this repeatedly.

Her most recent question was: "Are you taking care of yourself?" She followed it with: "Are you spending time with your family?" and lastly: "Are you sleeping and eating?"

She understands that life's been hard for everyone the last year and a half. We've all been pushed against the wall, pushed to the edge of the cliff, and not all of us have made it.

She believes this is a coping mechanism. Considering past habits of self-destructive behavior, she considers this a constructive coping mechanism.

But, like me, she does wonder where this is coming from. It fascinates her to hear about it every month. How much I've written, how many words, how many characters, how the story is flowing.

She believes it's a complex amalgamation of every bit of media I've consumed, every idea I've had, every repressed imaginative and creative sparks I've had, my entire life, all coming out as something I've always wanted to read about.

She believes it's healthy.

My wife is amazed by it. She just watches and smiles, making sure I don't overdo it. Yes, I'll overdo it, I'll just do nothing but type and work, from the minute I get up to the minute I go to bed, eating at the computer while I type or research.

She's used to semi-maniacal stuff like this. I once rebuilt a truck over a winter. I once completely redid the interior of a mobile home trailer over the course of a summer. I throw myself into things whole-heartedly and don't hold back.

She's told me, repeatedly, that she's equal parts amazed and proud of the work I'm doing on this.

It's strange, at times, it might be frightening if I ever really looked at it.

But I don't.

I just sit down, open up Reddit, browse to /hfy, and right-click on Submit.

And it flows out.

My brain tells me we're between Act IV and Act V in a Six Act Story.

Why it chose that, I don't know.

But here we are.

And tomorrow, we'll continue the journey.

It burns in my mind, like white fire.

I hope it's helped keep some of you warm, and guided you through hard times for others.

--Ralts Bloodthorne