My first novel will be about loss and gain. Death and life. There’s a sweet spot in the middle of those concepts. Progress. Rebirth. It just hit me, at this moment, after shuffling some tarot cards contemplating whether I’m on the right path with my creative projects. It’s representing how I came to recognizing the middle path. I can’t just focus on what I’ve achieved and how I’ve grown. I have to dive deep into the moments of loss, suffering, suffocation, misery, grief, suicidal ideation, homicidal ideation, that deep, deep pain that found art and clung to it so I wouldn’t throw punches at others and myself. That sorrow, that darkness wants to speak. It’s words will overlap with the light because even the light side of my life isn’t the opposite of sorrow. It’s not happiness. It’s the defensive. The protection. The facade that blinds. The ego that smiles. The consciousness that flickered at the sight of certain truths and epiphanies, like realizing light doesn’t erase darkness. Life doesn’t erase death. What was gained doesn’t mean something was lost. My light is a shitty bandaid. My darkness is a soft, cool pool that can either drown me or make me. In my novel, I’ll explain how I found the middle of light and dark through a protagonist that hears the calling like I did. How I took the first step to realizing true power and true healing, the stability and creation of the self, is found in the almost indiscernible median of the conscious and the subconscious, the light and dark, the gains and losses.
My novel is about a life dying. My novel is about taking that first step towards transformation. This is the start of the Spirit Strings series.