Comfort Zones

We all have them. I don't just mean, you know, personal space, either. Which is something not all of us have. I, for example, have no personal space because Luna is usually stomping all over it. By which I mean me. She has really sharp little hooves.
Where was I? Right. Comfort zones, and to be specific, comfort zones in terms of writing: if you write, you have something you always gravitate towards, that you find is... simplest to write about. Whether you know a lot about the subject or not, whether you portray it accurately or inaccurately, when you pick up a pen and sit down to write, there's usually one thing that floats immediately to the surface. Whether it does so as a coherent idea or not, you know that this story, these characters, are going to be involved in x, because... that's just what you want to write about.
The more we write, the better we do with things, and the better our writing gets as we practice. Sometimes the improvement is infinitesimal, other times you'll realize that "hey, this thing I just wrote is about  hundred times better than that thing I wrote!" But getting better by leaps or inches, what we much, much more quickly begin to settle into is the genre. The type. The ins and outs and turns that will begin to characterize our collective work.
Here's an example to compress everything. I write, and it's depressing and dark and scary. Actually, I was once classified as a 'dark romantic,' which... is accurate, whether I like it or not. And that was quickly established as where I was comfortable: writing other things... nonfiction, historical, comedy, all that, that's all difficult for me. I can do it, but I feel like I'm struggling a lot more when I make the attempt, I never feel as confident or as smooth.
And yet that in and of itself is why I sometimes try to write a different kind of poetry now and then, even a short story revolving around a different theme. Why when I work on longer novelizations, I attempt to mix in and touch on different genres, to force myself outside of my comfort zone. Because it forces you to deal with being uncomfortable, and pushing forwards anyway. It forces you to attempt to utilize different methods of writing, a different vocabulary, characters who do not adhere to the usual behaviors and patterns that you've grown used to. You need to attempt to create a completely different environment and atmosphere... and while I can almost guarantee that yes, you'll fail in your first few attempts to create a story that is as evocative or powerful as you want it, failing in the attempt doesn't make the attempt itself a failure: not when you're very likely to begin learning quite a bit about writing in a different tone, and evolving your style as a writer.
So write what you're not comfortable with from time to time. It can hurt, it can feel like a waste of time, and it's hard as hell, but you'll learn more from that one failed attempt about writing than you will from a success of a short story done inside your comfort zone.

~Scrivener Blooms

Sometimes I Wish I Was A Fish

That title is probably not very helpful in figuring out what this post is about, because I really don't like fish all that much. I might eat one. Luna says she used to eat fish all the time but I don't know if I believe her. But okay, so I don't wish I was a fish normally, but if I were swimming, I think I'd wish I was a fish. Likewise, whenever I see Luna draw, or look at the paintings on the wall, or... you know, smear ink all over my parchment and pretend it actually looks like something... I wish I was an artist. And even when I'm writing, I think to myself: "Why can't I do this better? Why can't I achieve... something?"
I've got little ambition, sure. But that doesn't mean I don't still want things. I don't still yearn, or think of what I'd do if I had all these capabilities. But I was reminded of something today: wishing gets you nowhere... and sometimes, when you try and do something, you fail miserably. You fail horribly. And sometimes, even when you succeed, it doesn't matter to anyone or anything. I think about when I was published, and no one thought it was anything special. Well, until... no, that's a story for another day.
So wishing sucks, failure sucks, sometimes even winning sucks. But if none of that matters, what does? The attempt, that's what. Stepping forwards with all your grit and determination and just goddamn doing something, even knowing full out this could all go to hell, that maybe no one will care, that this could be all for nothing. But you can still applaud and take pride in all the same stepping up to the plate, having the raw courage to get off your ass and out there, into the world. Charging headlong into possible catastrophe... at least you tried. How many people would actually do that these days? And how many people will sit back and hide away and never do anything and probably sit around bitching about how they never do anything but wish they could, while at the same time mocking and cursing the people who actually... you know, do manage stuff. Not that I'm not one of those ponies, of course. Luna and I can both be pretty bitter. Although now that there's all kinds of monsters to beat the crap out of I actually kind of find myself happier these days.  I think Luna's made me sadistic. Well. More sadistic.
In short, sometimes I wish I was a fish. But I shouldn't, because it's stupid to wish I was a fish. I'm a pony. And even if I'm a pony floundering my way through a river really badly, at least I'm trying to swim, and have no real reason to be jealous of that fish swimming so perfectly beside me.
Unless I drown.
Then that would kind of suck.

~Scrivener Blooms

Procrastination

Many creative ponies have this problem. Procrastination: it's easy to do, easy to fall into, and hard to get out of. I mean, I've been procrastinating a lot myself recently, but... there have also been dead things walking around to deal with. Yeah. You try and concentrate while skeletons are threatening to stab you in the face. Not so easy now, is it?
Of course, things like that become much less threatening when you have a wife who runs outside at the slightest sign of danger to pummel the crap out of anything she sees. I long ago learned to cancel out any feelings of wounded male ego in favor of just sitting back and watching her beat the crud out of things.
Back to the point: procrastination. What I've learned helps to get out of a rut is to actually let my attention turn to... whatever it wants to focus on. I begin to put effort into whatever it is that's distracting me, I make myself... say, read that book I want to until I'm sick, or play that mindless game over and over again until I'm so sick of it I want nothing more than to turn it off and do something else. And then I keep doing it for a little while longer anyway until I feel like cutting my hooves off.
Then, suddenly, it's a lot easier to get back to the task I was supposed to be doing the whole time. Neat.
Luna says I'm both crazy and stupid. I agree with her, but... hey, this actually works. But I'm all about turning pain to pleasure and pleasure to pain, so... you know. Anyway, it's a good lesson either way, I think. Anything good can become bad, anything bad can become good. But this isn't about moderation: it's about remembering that if you really want a day to waste, first you need to take care of your responsibilities. Even if to make yourself do them you have to take some time off to first make yourself sick of everything else.

~Scrivener Blooms

Bits And Pieces

It feels some days like all my focus has just gone... poof. I mean, it's not that I'm unhappy, don't get me wrong - and don't tell anyone that beneath my veneer of cynicism I'm far more content with my life than I've ever been in the past - but it's more difficult these days to get myself going. No, no, let me rephrase: it's more difficult these days to do stuff like what was all part of my old life.
I mean, Luna and I are self-sufficient out here in our victorious little exile. We have a garden where we grow necessities, we sneak into Ponyville to buy coffee and treats now and then - and we might not be rich, but considering we don't pay taxes, bills, or for much else, our little nest egg should last us a very, very long time - and of course Luna has more than one led a "valorous raid" on any military transports passing by Ponyville. I don't think the soldiers find it nearly as entertaining as she does. I also don't know if they'd be more or less furious if they found out that Luna's just playing with them.
We train a lot, and our days are surprisingly-busy: we do regular patrols of the forest, trade letters with Celestia and Twilight Sparkle, and of course there's the whole "moving the moon" thing every morning and every evening. Not to mention keeping the cottage clean and in good condition, and that includes recharging the crystal magical battery thingy that Luna has hooked up outside. I'm just glad that it actually works. I might enjoy the night but it's nice to have a little light to write by. Not to mention electricity to keep the fridge and other appliances running.
But writing is weird these days. I mean, it's not like I'm not writing. I've got countless notes and thoughts from Luna to transcribe into a series of stories about her, Celestia and Sleipnir in the past, to bring reality and life to the old myths of Morgan, Titan and Sol. And I'm damn well determined to do a damn fine job of it. Well. You know. The best I can, which in reflection probably isn't that much. I'm a poet, which is even worse than those loser fantasy sci-fi writers who write ridiculously-long stories no one ever reads, filled with plot holes and self-adulation and 'ooh look at me I'm so smart I took a mythology course in college!'
Then again maybe I'm just mad because I never got to take a mythology course in college. I never even finished grade school, after all. And because even fewer ponies read poetry than they do fantasy or the dreaded sci-fi genre.
Dammit, why is everything better than me?
Still, though. I have a hot wife who could beat up a dragon if she wanted to. Let's see how many other writers can say that.
Anyway, back to the point. Writing my own stuff... my own poetry, and maybe the little novella tickling the back of my mind... that's been hard lately. It's not that I don't have time or focus, it just doesn't want to come out as much as the stuff about Sleipnir, the myths, everything else. In what I now feel like is my "old life," I could sit down and write my own stuff any time of the day, easy, forgetting and foregoing everything else, including the assigned Royal Court projects and speeches for the nobles to present. But now, it's like my stuff no longer has priority... it's all about writing what is... important. To me, to Luna, to... others. I feel like I need to get this stuff written out and recorded before I start pushing my ideas again, even if it takes me years.
Likewise, I don't follow a lot of the old habits I used to have. No breaks to sneak off and just laze around in the middle of the day, taking proper care of myself instead of just lackadaisically dragging myself around, eating regularly instead of snacking occasionally on whatever I come across and pretending it's sustenance. And no more going out of my way just to make a nuisance of myself, of course, but I think that's because I'm in the middle of a forest and Luna beats me if I float around annoying her. But you know what? It feels good. Not. Not the part about Luna beating me, clearly, I mean this new life I'm living, instead of the old. Trying to be more responsible. Trying to take after Luna. Growing up, I should ironically say.
Weird.

~Scrivener Blooms

How To Write, Part 9: A Diversion On Poetry

Everypony hates poetry. Or everypony should hate poetry.
Hey, I'm making a good point here, just wait for it. Besides, I'm a poet. I get to hate poetry as much as I please. Which is a lot more than most people ever will.
Poetry, loosely defined, is a bunch of words strung together in some format or other, used to convey an expression or idea. To a romantic, poetry is a baring of the soul, an attempt to reveal one's emotions to another; to a comedian, it's a way to make people laugh and be as filthy as possible while seeming smart; to the desperate, it's a way to try and convince people not to hate you or cut your head off.
Poems used to have a lot more power than they did today. Love poems were even banned in some societies because they were thought to have magical powers and would ensnare the victims of such prose... not that that stopped anyone from writing love poems, of course. A powerful or well-devised poem could also literally save your life if you insulted some highborn lord or something: if you wrote a poem praising his virtues, he might excuse you from the executioner's axe and declare your faults forgiven. And yet today 'poet' is often treated as synonymous with 'damn fool.' Which it should be, don't get me wrong, but all the same. Hey, I'm allowed to be hypocritical where I want. Besides, I can hate something a whole lot and still appreciate its worth. I hate the things Luna does sometimes but still appreciate her, after all.
Partly because she'd beat me otherwise.
Moving on.
Anyway. Poetry is annoying because by itself, it can be very powerful, and likewise, used in the right way, it can make the lamest story ever appear far, far more strong than it actually is. While quantity in writing can give the appearance of being impressive and important and really good - and take it from me, quantity does not equal quality, or even good practice all the time - a writer's quality truly shines when it comes to pursuing prose and poetry... and maybe that's part of the reason why I hate it so much.
The other part? Because poetry leaves you naked a lot more than writing does. Everything is so dependent on what you're drawing on from your own emotions, on your specific word choices, on the metaphors you use, that even the silliest or simplest poem can leave you raw and vulnerable and open if someone knows just where to jab the testing needle. And believe me, someone out there always knows. And just as often manages to get you right in the damn eye, too. Or the heart. Not that I have a heart. Luna has my heart. I'm heartless without her. Or even with her because she keeps it locked up in uh... well, I ran out of excuses.
That's why I hate poetry, and why everyone should. Poetry is the literary equivalent of a very large cannon: it can equalize two writers who are at very different strengths and levels, and in very different fields. Done properly, it can stir emotions in even the most stoic, and get a point across more powerfully than a hundred pages of text. And poetry was the entire reason I was made Court Poet, which is my best argument for it being a horrible tool used by horrible ponies to trick other people into thinking they have a smidgen of talent whatsoever.
But if you're desperate, and you need to really hit something hard... go ahead, and phrase your words in prose or poetic format. It's a pain in the flank but you might be surprised at the reaction you get, and how smart people suddenly think you are.
Luna wants me to write another poem about her now. So uh. Expect a poem up here at some point. It probably will not be a very nice one. Shh, don't tell her I said that.

~Scrivener Blooms