The Blurred Ends between Oneself and their Fiction

All writers are passionate of their work, lest it be left after a momentary jolt of interest. Not in all cases, that the of love for the work allows them to make it to the end, but the likelihood of finishing a work, for which one has affection, is incredibly higher than the alternative. So it is no surprise that one will likely be invested within the work in some form or another.

As far to my knowledge, all authors, or at least most, have certain ideas or messages which they convey within their fiction. If, not through narrow events, situations, characters, or what not; then by a pervading theme, essence and so forth. This is not always the case, all authors are individuals, with their own unique fingerprint. Sometimes even, the intended message is in opposition to the ideas conveyed throughout the work.

No matter the reality that there are a limited number of stories to tell. That is not a barrier on one’s ability to tell a story. To reinvent, alter and make new works.

Anyway, there sometimes comes a predicament, in my experience with my own work, which is supernatural fantasy; my own philosophical and ideological viewpoints, amidst alternatives of the same fields, cause me to become incredibly invested within my stories. Prolonged involvement with it causes me to feel that the lines between the hyperalized ideas within the work and my own, blur. It is commonplace with many writers as they feel the characters jangling around inside their heads. Or their emotions are toyed, and probably too, their thought patterns.

When people watch enough of the same television program there is a chance that some concepts (albeit unintentionally usually) are forced within themselves. This is due to emotional manipulation, which causes us to become more passive to critically analyzing information. Coupled with the ‘it’s just a show/book/so on” we don’t critically consider the information, become wrapped within the idea, and over time have a chance of imbedding those viewpoints within ourselves. This sort of thing is made plain by observing that while one knows that what they are watching isn’t real, their emotions are still aroused, they still, for the moments whilst watching, become in a sense, convinced of its realness and are caught in the ride.

The ideas considered is irrespective of them being fantastical or mundane. It is not necessarily a faulted thing to impregnate oneself with ideas conveyed from fiction, as many people in argument will attempt to convince the other of information. It is taught in argument to form relations with the problem and the audience, and while one who is making the argument is supposed to do it honestly; manipulative tactics (such as making things relatable, toying with emotion and so on) let down the barriers humans put up and allow a chance for the information to be considered. It is hard to fight something which has been used for betterment of some form or another. Whether or not betterment is subjective. But in fiction, ideas have the same sort of credibility as it does in argument. Albeit argument usually has sources to other works, the ideas expressed within fiction have their own use, and the stories can stick with the readers far more commonly than an argument. Neither one is necessarily more significant than the other.

So then I find myself at a certain seeming impasse. The ideologies and concepts I present within the universe I’ve crafted for my works, have some sort of archetypal connection to me. Though, as with fantasy it tends to be that one exaggerates events, concepts, and so on, in order to tell a fantastical adventure. Other times these concepts are entirely inventive and have little to no home world connection.

Perhaps it is that I feel mental burn due to the similarity of viewpoints on supernatural events within my own being and the ideas presented within my work. I always could spend my time devising a collection of experiments, events, and the philosophical outlook and comparative study between the unpredictable events, and metaphysics, against narrow scientific theory. But, the likelihood of making any sort of actual connection is incredibly dismal, for the parrotry of naivety, unscientific notions, and idiocy will be so rampant that any sort of mere flirtatious meditation will not be possible.

The alternative, and while I create my works not for philosophical discussion purely (as it is a minor outlet), it is my hope that some readers will find the grains of truth. Truth being ideas and perceptions, not the end-all-be-all. The point of them finding it, is not for conversion, it’s for meditative dances. It’s for considering ideas outside ones one common sense, irrelevant of its true actuality. One can find indirect growth from fiction just as one can get growth from the known universe and experiences known possible. Just as dreams and hallucinations can alter one’s perspective, for better or for worse.

I have run into thoughts of ending my fiction due to the aforementioned problems. But, then I become engrossed in the stories again, and again. Each time, deeper and more vivid of ideas, stories and characters. No, my works will never win any awards, they are not mind-boggling, but they are clawing at me to let them out.

As such, there is nothing I should do to redirect my course. If all authors (or most) are quite enamored with their works as it is commonly stated, then I should continue with my work based upon my own affection for it, and its deep relatability to my being.


My, oh my, that came off as being quite serious no? Well, this is the function of a blog.


The Blurred Ends between Oneself and their Fiction

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