An interesting discussion on AbsoluteWrite turned into a fascinating bit of self-examination. The discussion was raised by a question: what is ‘too far in advance’ to plan for, when writing? Various and sundry answers rang out, all good ones, and the original poster had six novels planned out. That’s when I chimed in, mumbling about all those years of backstory work I’ve got and saying that six books felt fairly reasonable given my (admittedly focused) perspective.
One fellow then wondered aloud why anyone would want to plan anything like this that far in advance! Fair question, I thought, and without considering it too closely I answered, simply, ‘You say that as though I have a choice!’
Then James A. Ritchie, a fellow whose wit and wisdom I’ve come to enjoy, calls me out, and rightly so: You do have a choice, he asserts. And he’s right, of course. Or at least he is, normally. But I’m just not a normal guy, you know? Maybe I should explain.
I actually don’t have a choice but to write about this place. Rather, I had a choice, and I made it a long time ago. This world of mine is my personal obsession, and my choice was made for me when I decided I had a duty to it: to tell as many of its stories as I can before I dry up and blow away, before the conduit from the world inside my head to the real world is forever extinguished by my passing.
It’s more than a little weird to say that, I know. But my sense of duty is real, my need to share these stories is real, and I can honestly think of worse things to obsess about. Celebrities, for instance. Or where my next fix is coming from. Or peanut butter (hmm, peanut butter is borderline though… down with crunchy! Down I say!). And it’s not as though this obsession of mine runs, or ruins, my life: I have earned success in a professional field, a wonderful wife, great friends, fun pets, time for recreation and fun — all of which make me both happy and content.
I just happen to have a world in my head that I need to tell people about, too.
Now that’s not to say I won’t write anything else in between; there’s a screenplay demanding my attention, there’s some short stories I’d like to tinker with, and possibly some more stuff for game design that will need some dialogue. But none of those are novels. With novels, I don’t have a choice. It’s just something I have to do.
But that’s okay, because it’s who I am.
