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rynlingAround this time last year, I had an idea for a novel that I abandoned after ten chapters. I dropped the project partially because I was dying from overwork, but mainly because the story was too cringe to exist.
Lo and behold, this year I have another idea for a novel that is very interesting to me but too cringe to exist.
In the stupid stories I tell myself in my head, everyone is smart and competent and only has enough flaws to keep the plot moving forward. Meanwhile, the stories I actually set down in writing are populated by losers who only manage not to fuck everything up by the grace of me, the writer.
In real life, I do know a fair number of people who are attractive and intelligent and hyper-competent, and I do like spending time with them (obviously), but their lives are kind of boring. Like, an opportunity will be given to them, and they will take advantage of it, and they will succeed. That's not really a story, you know?
If you're going to have a story about extremely competent people, they have to be facing world-ending, fantasy-novel problems. And while I sincerely love that sort of power fantasy, it feels a little too "teenage boy jerking off into a sock while reading Dune in his bedroom" for me to be completely comfortable with in public.
Still. I love my power fantasies as much as I love my magical realism, and I wish I had the energy to write both. For me, energy comes directly from positive feedback, and that's in short supply these days. But who knows? Maybe one day I'll make it as a writer, and then the world will be subjected to my cringe.
Lo and behold, this year I have another idea for a novel that is very interesting to me but too cringe to exist.
In the stupid stories I tell myself in my head, everyone is smart and competent and only has enough flaws to keep the plot moving forward. Meanwhile, the stories I actually set down in writing are populated by losers who only manage not to fuck everything up by the grace of me, the writer.
In real life, I do know a fair number of people who are attractive and intelligent and hyper-competent, and I do like spending time with them (obviously), but their lives are kind of boring. Like, an opportunity will be given to them, and they will take advantage of it, and they will succeed. That's not really a story, you know?
If you're going to have a story about extremely competent people, they have to be facing world-ending, fantasy-novel problems. And while I sincerely love that sort of power fantasy, it feels a little too "teenage boy jerking off into a sock while reading Dune in his bedroom" for me to be completely comfortable with in public.
Still. I love my power fantasies as much as I love my magical realism, and I wish I had the energy to write both. For me, energy comes directly from positive feedback, and that's in short supply these days. But who knows? Maybe one day I'll make it as a writer, and then the world will be subjected to my cringe.
