The State of Things

Hello anyone and everyone who has somehow reached this site. It’s been a while.

This is not, on the whole, an accident. It’s by design. Regular updates were never a part of my plan, even when regular writing was. To those reaching this site because they’re fans of my father, Rick: As it stands I do not have the rights to his published work, and it is unlikely that I will get them at any point in the near future. If you have inquiries about that, I don’t mind taking some time out to connect you with the appropriate people, but don’t expect too much.

I’ve recently transitioned to a new job, and a very different one at that, which has left me with little extra energy to work with. でも、十ヶ月前に日本語を勉強するとはじめった。その時間でとても多い学ばった。そして今のところ, 私の一番興味です。君たち新しい書き物に待つ必要がある。

That is to say, I’ve been on a hiatus from “creative writing” for roughly a year now. I don’t honestly know if I’ve given it up at this point or not.

I often take breaks of a week to a month when I feel I’m in a rut, and to some extent this break started the same way. Increasingly over the past few years, my passion for writing has just fallen off. It used to mean so much to me, and more than that, I was compelled as if by supernatural forces to put certain thoughts to paper. It wasn’t just a self-justifying habit, it was a habit which helped to justify externally every single thing I experienced. Writing, as a hobby, has been inextricably linked to simply living my life.

But that’s changed now. It doesn’t seem to matter to me anymore, and none of these ramparts of living which it supported seem to rely on it, nor do they return to that elusive benefactor some small measure of the meaning it brought them. The idea of writing feels almost pitiful, as if roping meaning around this world were a fool’s errand, which serves only to frustrate and annoy those in the actual throes of life. I can’t make it matter.

When I return to writing, I hope it will be as a craft, not this sentimental grasping broken against the axle of meaning. It will need to be, above all, fit for purpose, and there must be some purpose for it. There just isn’t any right now. If all of this is clumsy or overwrought, well, I’m sorry. It’s kind of my style, but I also haven’t flexed these particular muscles in a long time. And I won’t again for a while.

Hope everyone is well! Nobody start World War III while I’m away!

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