Writing and the illusion of talent

I’ve been writing. No big surprise, I know. But I’ve been writing a lot—record amounts, in fact. I wrote over 15k words this week alone—more than 2k a night (which, for me, is 6 pm-8 pm). The last time I wrote like this was Dawn of the Lightbearer during the pandemic. I love it. There is nothing like being in the flow. But this time, it differs from my other books, and I thought I would delve into why.

Part of it is having a clear goal. I want to get this book out to readers by the New Year, and that ain’t too far away. I’m at 45,636 words of a 150k-word book with only three months to write and edit. It’s tight, I know, but with my traditional publishing endeavors, the last time I released a book was Noonday in the North, back around New Year 2023. I’ve completed two more books during that time, but they’re caught in various stages of the traditional publishing process. I owe my readers something, and continuing the Absolution of the Morning Star series is important to me for many reasons. It is the core storyline of my world, and all the other planned projects depend on it.

Having a goal is a great motivator. In my day job, I interact with artists who work in many different mediums, but we agree on one thing. Artists often look for any excuse not to enter those bumpy rapids before they pass into the flow, where it is suddenly bliss. Emails, research, dishes, house projects, and anything else become excuses not to enter those troubled waters. For writers, it is when we face the potential of the “block”- the void of ideas and inspiration, and where the doubt rears its head. I see this in myself, and that is why I start writing every night at 6 pm whether I want to or not. Having this added deadline for the New Year has helped me focus and get sh** done.

Secondly, I have been sitting on these ideas for a year. They’ve had time to stew and seep deep into my consciousness, giving me a tentative action plan. I started writing Destiny of the Daystar in November 2023, immediately after Koen: Quills from the Raven’s Nest, and got 22k words in before I had to pause to do some suggested rewrites of Koen for what would become a book contract in January. Then, the idea for The Novice of Thanatos popped into my mind, and I was more energized to work on that new project than Destiny of the Daystar– I had to strike while the iron was hot. Also, if I am going to be honest with myself, I was stuck with Erik’s journey, and in fact, writing The Novice of Thanatos helped open a new path for the entire arc of the Absolution of the Morning Star series.

In those ensuing months, I realized that Erik must solidify his support of the Circle of Eight, the ruling tribes of the Northlands. To do that, he must visit these places and convince their leaders that he is worthy of standing behind in his quest to take the Cyrstal Throne- so that humanity has a chance against the growing threat of the Nephilim. This gives me eight precise destinations to make on the journey. I am still determining if I have enough space in this book to visit all eight (I’ve created some exciting places), but I have contingencies in case the story diverts- which it often does. He will at least visit four.

Thirdly, with trial and error over the 20 years I’ve been writing novels, I’ve finally found a process that works for me. I know my pitfalls now and do my best to avoid them. I’ve also learned to trust this process, which is even more important. A chapter doesn’t need to be perfect; it just needs to be there. Making it perfect happens in editing. I must keep going at all costs to avoid falling into the trap above and use reading over my work and refining it as an excuse not to move the story forward.

And lastly, I come to validation. My little book contract is nothing stellar. It won’t significantly change my world- it may not change it at all, but it is much-needed validation that someone read my work and said I think this is good enough for me to support and sell. I often write in a vacuum. My books sell some, but I wonder if people love them or if they’re just meh. I have not received a review with words, not just stars, since June 2023- more than a year! I’m not saying the reason I write is for acknowledgment; I would write regardless, but it is nice to get a pat on the back once in a while. It makes it all worth it and helps with the doubt that creeps in the shadows, waiting to stab a knife into the drive.

Recently, at work, I found myself dwelling on the illusion of talent. There’s a notion that “talented” people are just born with remarkable abilities. However, what external parties see is a snapshot in time, a final product, if you will. If you confront “talented” people with this assumption, they may even be offended. “Hell no!” They’ll shout. “I worked damn hard to get to where I am now.” Most fail to see the years of dedication honing one’s craft to produce that illusion of talent. Yes, there might be some innate skill to stimulate their quest for perfection, but most “talented” people are where they are because of simple hard work.

I like the idea that those I see as the greats started out like me with doubt and frustration. However, they resolved to keep going. They worked hard to improve themselves and be nothing more than better than they were the day before. So I write and write hard—every day to clock my hours, ingrain the motions into my muscle memory, make mistakes, and swallow the inevitable bitter criticism. I pause momentarily, reflect (hence this post), learn, and truck on.

Cheers!