Stuckology

Hello buzzards,

How are you? Is that cough better? Have you arrived at Ultimate Truth yet?

Me neither. Well, I hope you liked the last video. I think that finally put me off making long-form stuff for a while. Perhaps you already know how these things go. You have a silly idea you're sure will take a week to make at most, and before you know it the thing sprouts tentacles and dominates your life for months. There's a point you can get to with anything that runs on longer than it should, ages after the initial excitement has passed, and ages before any kind of pay off for finishing the thing is coming, and I will tentatively call that place: the screamies, because a great deal of screaming gets done during that period. I think I re-recorded the ending seven times, and even with the version that stuck, I'm still not sure it works, but what can one do. (Besides screaming.)

It's been very nice having a little time off since. Sitting around the apartment, I've made some discoveries. Did you know about Car-Jitsu? Yeah, that's a thing. What an interesting species we are. (And AMMA, mixed martial arts wearing medieval armour.) I can also recommend a game called Schedule 1, wherein you play as a...hm, what will Patreon let me get away with here – extra-legal pharmaceutical distributor? There are some layers of subtlety in how you set up your pharmaceutical empire that only become apparent as you get into the thing, and I can safely say it's a fun way of passing the evenings that doesn't involve a hangover the next day. Not necessarily anyway. I've also been re-listening to Carlo Rovelli's Reality Is Not What It Seems, and it's just such a treat. Will massively recommend it if you have any interest at all in weird physics. (And a Mike Leigh film I can't stop re-watching, Mr. Turner, a biopic of the famous painter, and it's absolutely fucking brilliant.)

Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for bearing with the wait for the last video. The next thing to – what, drop? Ship? I'm in my thirties, I'll stop pretending to know what cool sounds like – next thing to get done, is the new book and it really shouldn't take too much longer. I spend the mornings editing it in bed and getting periodically stopped for fuss by the small feline. (Small feline pictures attached, of course. She's very well, despite some kidney issues, and sends her finest regards.) Writing this one has made me think a whole bunch about stuckness. I bet it's the same for any art form. You're sure you know what you're doing, right up until you don't, and suddenly nothing is working. Then you're not certain if this disaster means you should abandon whatever it is you're working on, or try to persist through it. What if you're stuck for months? ...or years? How the hell are you supposed to know the difference between a difficult problem you should work through, and a brick wall saying Step back, let it go, this is the end now, move on? I don't have a good answer. I do have a small ridiculous story as a reply though. (Apologies if I've told this before.)

Early last year, I went travelling through Europe for a few weeks to see if writing this book might get easier on the move – usually being in a new place helps for some reason. I got a bit of work done, but mostly it was just frustration and angst. Then on the last day I was getting a bus back from Serbia to Bulgaria, finally sure this was a hopeless project and I was full of shit for thinking otherwise. It felt pretty good giving up. (Felt really good, actually.) The bus was almost totally empty and I had the whole of the back section to myself. I laid down on the back seats with a beer - lovely - and decided to look over the notes I'd been making while travelling, if only to let them go. And suddenly it was obvious where the story should be heading. I got more work done in the next six hours than I had in ten days, that wonderful daydreamy fuck-it-who-cares space where things turn up in your mind's eye and all you have to do is try to get them down in a way people will hopefully want to read. It was bliss, really. I don't know if there's a lesson I should've learned from that experience, but I bet you've bumped into it as well in whatever context; sometimes you're putting so much stupid pressure on yourself that you only realise what you're supposed to be doing when you flirt with the idea of giving up entirely. I don't know why this works, but often it does. It's like playing chicken with your subconscious.

Anyway. I'll stop wasting your time. If I haven't replied to your email or message, please know I will – I've been spending the last few days making sure nothing slipped through the net – I don't at all mean to leave you hanging, I'm just shockingly bad with organisation. Thank you ever so much for sticking around on Patreon, and if you're new here then please be assured these updates are always this pointless and painful to read (and thank you and thank you again.)

New stuff in the works of course, and I promise you'll be the first to know when it's almost done.

Massive love as ever,

Ex.