A drug called writing

"I haven't found a drug yet that can get you anywhere near as high as sitting at a desk writing"

-Hunter S. Thompson

    Tennessee Williams used to stay up all night to write, after coming home from work. Robert Louis Stevenson reportedly wrote "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" in six days while sick (although, according to rumors he was on cocaine).  Stephen King wrote long novels in short periods of time during the seventies, while he was taking cocaine. A lot of writers have had addiction issues, but nothing is more addictive than writing itself.

   And the greatest thing about a blog is being able to place my own name among the aforementioned ones!

   After spending almost 60 hours straight working on rewriting my second novel, which was written almost six years ago, I felt alive. I was naturally exhausted, all my muscles ached, and I began seeing colors and shapes on the wall, but still, I felt alive.

   It has also been a long time since I had such a long creative outburst, which made the whole experience that much more enjoyable.  And I can attest I didn't use any enhancement drugs; only strong  coffee and tobacco.

   And, although such practices are harmful in the long run, I can't say I won't do it again. I'll probably have to wait some time, in order to have the necessary free time, but still, it's something I know will happen again.

  

   And this brings me to the quote on the top of this text.

  Writing is a drug. It can be detrimental for one's social life, which is also why most writers know how to enjoy being on their own. Often, while writing, you can lose the sense of time, or the sense of what's happening around you.

   Just like with many drugs, writing can put you into a trance, allow you to become multiple persons at the same time and create vast new worlds and extravagant situations. The feeling of being able to cause feelings through your writing is exquisite and knowing that your text can make someone else laugh, cry, feel happy or sad are some of the reasons many writers spend countless hours on a keyboard or typewriter.

    It requires determination, and probably some madness, to spend 60 hours working on something you may never get paid for. But it's not about the amount of money I may, or may not, someday receive for my novels. It's the little voice in my head that kept yelling: "Keep going, you don't need sleep. But you need this!" It fueled me to go on, one chapter at the time, all up to the very end.

    It's the very same voice, the voice of the writer within me, that makes me continue writing, despite not knowing what will happen to the stories sitting inside a folder in my computer, or the ones waiting to be written.

Cruel, amazing, soul-crashing: about writing horror (part 3 out of 3)

   Once upon a time I began writing about writing horror, then stopped. I guess it's about time to put an end to this 'saga'.

   For me writing horror is not about expressing my own feelings, my own fears or my own experiences. Usually what I write has nothing to do with me. Or to put it more correctly, it's all about expressing the dark part of myself; the psychopath, the sociopath, the, put in simple words, insane son of a bitch hiding deep inside me.
   I'm definitely not saying that if I wasn't writing I would go on killing sprees or be a criminal in any other way. However I do believe that all of us have a dark side, even the nicest of people; and for a writer, especially a horror writer, novels and stories are the best way to let that crazy bastard living inside our heads do its best, or worst.
   The process of writing is enough to fuel the dark side of me with power; an idea will be born in my mind randomly, and it will slowly grow into something bigger; up until I feel it's time for it to become something real, something substantial.
   But the distance between having an idea on your mind and actually putting it down on paper is extremely big. I try to get myself to write at least 2.000 words every day, but it' not always easy to do so. Sometimes I won't have the time while sometimes I'm just not capable of writing so much.
    And as rewarding as accomplishing this daily goal is, it's as equally, if not more, devastating not accomplishing it. When you know you can't write all night because the next day you have to wake up early, or when you know you'll be gone from home all day, you can't help but feel awful; as if you're letting yourself down. And, in an essence, you do.
    Of course when you do sit down and write for hours, the feeling of euphoria that follows is so great that it helps you forget everything else. And it's exactly this that keeps me going, when things don't go my way in terms of writing goals.
   But when you write, you need to be your characters, no matter how distant or alien they may be from your own character. Whenever I write my own self disappears and I become whoever I'm writing about. This is good for the purpose of the story, making it a lot more personal, but it's devastating for me.
   Because of the nature of the stories I write, I face fears I never knew I had, I face loses I, thankfully, never had to face in my real life. And yet it all feels real to me for the period I'm writing. Whether I'm the only one who does so, or if it's common practice amongst writes, I have no clue.
   But this is also why drinking and smoking help during my writing outbursts; they allow my mind to loosen up even more, and hence make it easier for me to become all these characters; sometimes changing from one personality to another in just a few paragraphs.

   I've written my first novel at the age of 15 and have been writing ever since I can remember. And I'm going to continue to because I can't stop. Even though sometimes it's tough, and being an author is a lonely, and sometimes depressing, occupation, it's impossible for me to decide to stop, to find something else.
   For it's not about what I want to do, is what I feel was born to do(although I don't believe in destiny or anything similiar). Biologically speaking, I was born with the genes of creativity and language skill, and I don't think I can run away from my own genetics.

Just a short story

   Legend goes that a child once fell from a ship in the Aegean Sea and his spirit haunts the ships that cross the area where he drowned.

     I was travelling by ship towards  the island of Paros with some friends, and because it was during the night, we had booked a cabin. We were all sleeping, when something knocked hard on the small window; however the window was overlooking the sea, and there was no deck underneath it. We were awoken by it, but dismissed it quickly as nothing of importance.

    One of my friends glanced at the window, and instantly turned pale; we tried to talk to him, but he didn't respond, nor did he seem to even acknowledge our presence. After a few minutes, and with my friend still unresponsive, we heard people running and talking loudly. I opened the door of the cabin, and was met with several nervous and confused passengers, as well as the sound of breaking plates. At about the same time our bags fell from the top bunk-bed upon which we had placed them; despite the sea being calm.

    No one seemed to know what was going on, but everybody was growing more and more nervous with each passing moment; however the captain apparently remained oblivious to the turmoil, considering that the ship never stopped. It took about an hour for everybody to calm down, and for my friend to start responding again.

    And it was then he told us about the young face he saw on the window; the face of a young boy with algae instead of hair, and with piercing eyes that, according to him, could see one's soul. And I heard the same story, and the exact same description, from at least ten more passengers who were in neighboring cabins.

    We never learned what really happened, although one crew member told us that the occurrence wasn't something new for the specific route.

   

Lonely, miserable, rewarding: writing horror (or anything else for that matters) (part 2 of probably 3)

   Writing isn't a social occupation. As a writer, you have to spend countless hours in front of a computer screen, or a typewriter, typing countless words, then erasing them, then typing them again, maybe in a different order. No matter what however, you have to be alone. When you want to write a story, be it a short one or a novel, you need your privacy; you can't have friends or family interrupting you with small talk or tempting you with a night out in town.
  Hence, anyone who aspires to become a writer, must be willing to face endless days, and nights, in solitude. Personally, I have no idea how many times I had begun writing in the early afternoon, while drinking coffee, and finally stopped when I saw the sun rising again; this is also why I can't use my computer for entertainment. When I don't write, I have to get away from it.
   And spending hours upon hours in front of a computer, all alone, is cruel. Sometimes I'll just type non-stop, and thus won't realize how much time has passed, but other times, I'll just sit there, staring at the screen, trying hard to think of what is to happen next in the story.
    And this is the worst part, when you know you have to write, when you feel the need inside you, and yet, you don't know what to write. And it's also when all temptations come to play; you'll start wanting to surf the internet, just to kill some time until inspiration strikes, or you'll just feel like giving up.
   And indulging to these temptations may ruin your chances of writing anything, on that day. Because you'll soon find yourself promising that in five minutes you'll start working, but these five minutes can easily turn into five hours.
   This is also the worst part, when you realize you wanted to continue your story, and instead you wasted your time. And it's also what makes being a writer so hard, for it's when you don't know what exactly to write, and simply stare at a screen, that you realize how lonely and cruel it can be.
   However when you finish a story, and you simply read it through, it's when all this misery you've went through really pays off. When you look at what you wrote, and can say to yourself that you did it, that you spent the hours to create something.
    Of course the big reward comes when your work is published, which means that people, strangers to you, can read it, and that someone thought your work was good enough to be printed. And suddenly you forget all about the miserable process of writing it, and feel proud, and go on working on your next story.
    And this is also why I can't stop writing; because, no matter how hard and dissapointing it sometimes is, I know that at the end I'll feel the same euphoria, when I see my story completed.

 I realize now that in the end of part 1 of this "series", I gave promises of writing about something else entirely. Well, I guess these promises will have to wait for part 3 to be fulfilled.

Dark, grotesque, macabre: writing horror (part 1 of number unknown)

  There are many different literary genres, but one that I love, and the one I practice, is horror; and the title may have given away who one of my personal favorites is: namely, Edgar Allan Poe.
   His stories are dark and grotesque, something that may have resulted from how his life was, and the losses he experienced. I have in no way faced the same challenges and difficulties as him, and yet, I have found myself writing in similar style.
   Maybe I do so because I've read, from my early childhood, horror novels and stories, or maybe because by writing I express the dark side of me. No matter the reason however I often find myself thinking of macabre situations that could occur during my everyday life; like when riding the bus, or when I'm out with my friends.
   Just the other day three friends and I were driving through a mountain near Athens, and got lost. While the others were trying to find the way back home, I was thinking of all the crazy things that could have happened; but they never let me tell them my ideas, for they knew beforehand the dark way I think when it comes to stories and were already a little frightened.
    Horror is definitely a hard genre to sell, which means that, as a horror writer, I'll face more difficulties to find success and sell my stories, than, say, a science-fiction writer of equal talent. And I know just as well, that if I began writing stories in genres that are proven to be good sells, I'd find success much easier.
   But personally I don't think I can decide what to write, nor can I really decide how a story will unfold, no matter how strange it may sound. Often a story will transpire in my mind just as I write it, and I rarely know the end of a story I write, up until I've written it down.
  On other occasions however I sit down and write knowing exactly how the story will unfold; only to find out afterwards that I wrote it vastly different than I imagined it. However, details on how exactly I write, as well as more on the difficulties, if they can be called so, found in writing horror will have to wait the next entry.

About writing in a foreign language

   For about a couple of years ago I've started writing in English, in an effort to have my work reach a much larger audience than it ever would in my native language, Greek. However this had several unforeseen difficulties.
   Why am I writing this? Well, I guess because a blog is a place to write one's thoughts, and maybe my text will be useful to other writers who face the same dilemma: should I continue writing in my native language and hope for a translation opportunity, or should I start writing in English and reach a wider audience easier?

   One of the first things you notice is the fact that writing in a language that isn't your native is extremely difficult, and makes the "easier" part of the above sentence seem laughable. Writing a few sentences, or perhaps a small text, correctly, isn't so hard, although a couple of mistakes can always slip in. On the other hand, writing a literary work is much harder. We're "forced" to think in our native language, but different languages don't have the same structure and rules. Personally I've often found myself realizing that I'm writing in Greek and simply using English words; something I took notice when I re-read my first attempt of translating my book in English at the age of 19; I still have this first attempt, just in case I one day become a best-selling author and want to publish a few copies, just because I love a good joke!
    However the errors in the texts per se aren't the main problem; they're but the cause of it. What I at least faced was doubting my talent. It took me quite some time to realize that the few rejections from agents and publishers were due to the fact that my novel needed extreme editing, which is why I've for the time being stopped querying about it. But up until I finally realized what the problem really was, (where I went through translating the novel all over again and I'm now working with a professional editor to finally make it read like an actual English-written novel) I often caught myself thinking whether I should give up writing altogether.
    Of course I never did, because I don't think I'm capable of stop writing, however I did have a year-long writer's block (what a lovely fella this bastard is!). Fortunately I got over it, and actually wrote a novel based upon it.
   
   I guess it's about time to put an end to this long text, and maybe I should do so with a moral, no matter how cliche it may be: Never stop doing what you really love, for there's nothing better than finding success in what you love to do.

About my published novel, "The elixir of youth"

  "The elixir of youth" is a science-fiction/horror novel with fast-paced action; it's about tough decisions, the balance between morality and will, as well as the handling of losses and responding to situations beyond someone's expectations.
 
  The story revolves around a professor, Harold, who discovers, through strange-natured dreams, that his family is connected with some creatures from another world. These creatures are living in isolation, hidden in a cave somewhere deep in the Andes, and have a single human-being to help them with various tasks; and Harold is the next in line to become their associate.
   However the bonds between him and the creatures are numerous, both good and bad, which brings Harold into a dilemma of how to proceed; thus, alongside his best friend, the archaeologist Frederick, and a young, ambitious student, Dimitra, sets off on a dangerous trip to Andes; a trip where Harold meets dangerous situations, new revelations about his relationship with the creatures and and is confronted his biggest enemy, his own self.

  The link provided is, unfortunately for some, in Greek, since, so far, the novel has only been published in Greece:


  http://www.protoporia.gr/to-elixirio-tis-niotis-p-338664.html?osCsid=661n7gtrks0lnrlta20tb9t9l4