Hello and good morning, everyone. It’s raining here in south Florida; I got more soaking wet on the way to work today than I have at times when swimming in the ocean.
Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but at least when you’re swimming in the ocean, you plan on getting wet, you expect to get wet, and your clothes—such as they are—are made for getting wet and for drying off quickly. This is not the case for work clothes, even when one works in a fairly casual office. This weather almost makes me wish that there were a 24-hour curfew in place that restricted people even from going to work, but no such luck. I was allowed to go to work even at the height of the Covid-19 lockdown, which has apparently passed, and I’m certainly allowed to work now.
In America at least, news of the pandemic has been all but superseded by news of various protests, some of which have turned violent, over the murder of George Floyd. Both topics seem particularly good at bringing out human stupidity, which is never a tall order, but there is more unified sentiment—where I work, anyway—about the latter story. Everyone here thinks the cops involved need to go to prison, but that violent protests and especially looting are idiotic, counterproductive, and are probably (mostly) not being done by legitimate protestors. As for me, I can at least sympathize with occasional, directed violence in such matters. Peaceful protest is ideal when it works, when you’re dealing with people of conscience and appealing to their better natures, but it wouldn’t have worked against the Nazis, or against Genghis Khan, or against the Roman Empire, and it wouldn’t work in North Korea. Random violence, however, that hurts one’s own neighbors or other innocent people, seems thoughtless and pointless at best, and looting seems simply opportunistic and despicable.
All right, enough politics, if that’s what that was. On to more auspicious matters.
This week, I have finally begun the last edit, layout, preparation, etc. of Unanimity. I expect that, with the finish line in sight, I’ll probably accelerate work on it somewhat, perhaps pushing back my music…though I did make a post on Iterations of Zero this week with embedded videos of my five original songs that are on YouTube, as well as a few comments about them. Check out that post if you’re interested; I’d love to know what people think of the songs. I’ve also recorded another audio blog for IoZ, but that’s still being edited—those take longer to polish than do written blog entries, though they’re certainly easier to initiate.
As you may know, I’m chronically conflicted about the whole podcast/audio versus writing of thoughts and commentary. Writing is more efficient for storage and dissemination of information—compare the size of a word-processor document with even a compressed audio file—but there is a certain nuance of expression as well as a greater spontaneity that can be achieved in audio. As I admit right at the beginning of the new recording, this audio blog post is not intended to be uplifting. Neither is it meant to be down-pushing (if that’s a term). It’s instead meant to be a rebellion of sorts against the notion that we all must try always to be positive and optimistic and upbeat and inspirational.
If you need to be inspired—if you need to be “motivated”—to get your work done, I think you’ve already failed. Motivation—in the modern, self-help sense, not in the basic, fundamental meaning of the word (which is fine)—is a bit like the notions of heroism and leadership. These are concepts that come into play only when you’re already far from optimal circumstances. We should all aspire to achieve a world in which there is no need for leaders or for heroes, and to strive to reach a state in our own character in which “motivation” is irrelevant.
No one feels “motivated” every day, but if you want to earn a living, you need to go to work whether you feel “motivated” or not. The tiger that won’t hunt until and unless it’s “inspired” by something is a tiger that’s got a good chance of dying. Or perhaps a better animal for that analogy would be the squirrel. Squirrels keep gathering nuts (and maybe other foods, I’m no expert on squirrel diets) even when they have enough for their immediate needs—even when they don’t feel particularly hungry—because, as they apparently say in Game of Thrones, “Winter is coming.”*
To quote Christian Mihai, “The work that you do when you don’t want to is the work that most defines you.” Maybe this is just a different kind of motivation, a more long-term motivation that evaluates the area under the curve of one’s success and happiness, and not merely its moment to moment y-value. That kind of motivation—or drive, perhaps, would be the better term—seems perfectly fine to me. But if you have to get jazzed up to get out of bed and get moving, then you’re careening toward failure, because no one can feel jazzed up every day, not even someone in the upside of a bipolar cycle.
I’m not sure how I got onto that subject, but anyway, I’m happy at least to know that my own personal commitment to working on my fiction five to six mornings every week continues to deliver results. It’s a lesson I learned fromthe King himself, and it’s paid off already in all my published books and stories. And soon, I’ll release my own megalithic horror novel that matches in size even Stephen King’s longest work.
I would be delighted if Unanimity is read and enjoyed by even a fraction of as many people as have enjoyed any of King’s works, of course. But if even one person reads it and likes it, that’s a huge reward. And even if no one does, well—I still know that I’ve written it, and I like it. If I didn’t like it, it really wouldn’t matter all that much if everyone else in the world loved it. I can only be inside my own head.
*I’ve neither watched nor read any of the GoT stories. This fact surprises even me. It’s not a matter of stubborn contrarianism or protest; I see nothing wrong with people loving the stories or the series. I simply haven’t been interested. These are the types of entertainment that I tend to want to enjoy with someone—not just anyone, to paraphrase John Lennon—and I simply have no one with whom I’m interested in sharing such entertainment. More’s the pity, but there it is, and other such long-in-the-tooth clichés.