Jack reflects on his old relationship with notebooks versus his new one with the laptop.

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There’s a safe comfort which comes from writing in notebooks. The keyboard feels cold and uninspired. A lot of effort goes into coming up with fresh ideas. But here in the notebooks it’s liberated and easy. Even emotional displays come as second nature when hand written. The skills acquired for expression as a child were developed in notebooks from the start. it’s home.

Losing sight of the simpler things in life that matter the most happens to all. Forgetting that joy and satisfaction come from the things loved occurs often.

I’m guilty of forgetting where I come from. That writing is what ultimately matters. That there is no right or wrong way to do it so long as it gets done.

I have to remember, when I struggle, that the notebooks always welcome me.

Creation, my relationship with it is bittersweet. I’m obsessed and can’t stop, but then I have no time to do anything else. And I’m only really enjoying myself when I can’t figure something out. Otherwise it’s routine and mundane.

Freedom is the feeling I get. Using the tools I’ve learned in life and applying them to the creative process. The aesthetics and the practical are all just as important, and attempting to align them is a learning experience on its own.

I make because I learn from making. I learn to make new things. The prophecy will continue to fulfill itself. My obsession will continue to grow. I will get overwhelmed and that’s when the fun will begin.

I tend to forget writer’s block is a thing unless I’m actively thinking about it. My solution is to write about the writer’s block itself which has altered my perception of it. It’s not thought of as a lack of writing, but rather, another subject worth writing about.

In fact, it’s a challenge to write new content when the topic is writer’s block. To exploit as much of it as possible for my benefit. Let the “negative” be twisted and turned on its head to become a positive experience.

Defeat is a state of mind achieved by only those who have quit. Lessons are a state of mind achieved by those who don’t give up. I choose to learn.

My addiction isn’t with alcohol or drugs. Not with sex. Not with video games.
My addiction is with escaping reality. Seeing things for what they’re not.
My obsession and high comes from molding my own worlds and playing God.
My obsession is with creation and extinction.

The people closest to you will support you the least. It’s worse if you’re a writer because chances are you are one of the only people you know that enjoys reading. At best, those around you will purchase your writing just to say they did, but don’t press them on how far they’ve gotten because “haven’t had a chance to start” is quite possibly the answer. Their lack of interest is the reality.

It’s most frustrating part is that writers puts themselves into their work which results in the work being the best way to understand the writer. The best way to understand how you think and what you find interesting.

No one cares as much as you do, because you’re the only that cares.

The clock tocks twelve twice in the studio with my mind dead set on writing. The desire is to abandon responsibilities, but they must get completed before I proceed. The methods I use to work with the audio reflect how I long for writing. It’s an obsession I fulfill daily, yet always want more. The behavior of a junkie.

In my personal life this addiction presents itself as insomnia. My brain wanders off when it’s been given a break and begins to work on the stories. Character development, settings, even scenes develop throughout the course of my downtime, against my will. So I get up and write to calm the thoughts down. Repeat the next day.

If only I could distract myself from the write addiction of figuring out the right way. I’m plagued with the want for the learning experience writing is.