Kyle Phoenix, Writer and student
Sometimes yes. But often not in the way I think"like" is meant. The creation is fun, the who, the dynamics, the story itself. The process can suck hairy eggs.
I'm often in multiple projects at once, some just notes, others include outlines and mock up book covers (they help codify sometimes a project) and then others are at the 80% mark where they're practically done but need the deep editing and redo, which is absorbing in focus.
Right now I have about 40 fiction books outlined but I write in longhand about 80% of my work so I gleefully buy dozens (I go shop happy back to school time) of notebooks because each book will be about 200-300 handwritten pages that I then have to type up. So I dislike the voluminous amount of typing I do as part of my writing process.
I also have constant trepidation at how much attention I give to my work. I'm happy but only with my drug of choice, sometimes I look at guys strolling along and they're in business suits, having meeting, etc and I envy that narrow simplicity of intention/life. But then I wonder how do people live with no Art to immerse themselves in. Foucault wrote about Art being dangerous to all state mechanisms because it is so freeing and radical. It feels like an eruption of energy, of realities within me demanding to be exorcised but at the same time it promises nothing but the act because as soon as I finish one another cast arrives to be exorcised. I am fascinated by the process but deeply distracted to everything but the basics. I work odd hours, for less money, control my expenses so that I can control my life so that I can produce, write. I literally feel depressed and lost when I don’t get something creative done everyday.
I love it as an obsession, a possession, but that love is all-consuming. I pray to live long enough to publish everything in mind, plan now. I pray that there will be a surcease in a handful of years from this daemon.
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