Finglish. My name is Olli. There are 590 posts in this blog and maybe 2 or 3 of them are well written. I'll do better things in the future.
If something I wrote on this blog insults you, just ask me about it. I may have changed my mind about you. I'm not saying I'm wise, but I think I'm wiser than I used to be. I don't want to be a jerk.
Good evening. I am thrilled tonight for the opportunity to talk with writer Olli Brander, author of this blog and aspiring novelist, in a real-time discussion focused on his past, present, and future as a writer. Stay tuned, as we will cover anything and everything pertaining to the technical and artistic aspects of his craft, and his pursuit of literary fulfillment.
I thank Mr. Brander for generously agreeing to be interviewed, particularly in a venue of his own creation. With that, we’ll begin...
Good evening Mr. Brander and greetings from the West Coast of the United States.
Some years ago, you left blogging behind to write your first novel. Why don’t you take up the story from the point you made that declaration—explain the process of writing your book from the point you stopped blogging to the present status of that project.
There is/was something wrong with my email or Blogger or both, because until this moment – 18:35 – I was unable to see your first question! For some reason, I had to delete my "Phineas, are you there?" comment before your comment became visible.
Okay, but I'm here now! (I'm still ready to do this today, but we can also try again later. Either way is fine!)
So, here's the answer to your first question:
This is a really challenging question, but I’ll try to answer it. First of all, the project was much more difficult than I realized in 2014 when I started writing the book. Already in the beginning, I understood that the project was quite ambitious and that I would have to "mature" in some ways before I could properly finish it. I wanted the psychological pain and confusion of the protagonist to decrease believably and authentically; I wanted to get to a point where I could communicate “wisdom” in a non-superficial way.
What I didn’t know was how complex the process of “maturing” would be. What actually happened is that I kept finding new ideas and ideals, and experiencing new joys and sufferings, that changed my thinking and worldview again and again… I tried to incorporate all these new insights and experiences into the book, but in the end, I had to admit that my ideas about the world, and about how and what I actually want to write, had become too different from what they were in 2014 – the story and structure of this book just couldn’t “carry” them anymore… which eventually led to a dramatic realization that it would actually be incredibly liberating to just let the book go. This happened one night about 3.5 months ago… I haven’t really talked about it to many people yet. When I realized that I could just start writing a different book – a book I’ve been wanting to write for many years now – my existence instantly became lighter and more rewarding. I haven’t _totally_ abandoned the old book – I’m still waiting for three readers’ opinions on it – but at the moment, I’m not actively working on it anymore and it gives me a great sense of relief. I can just stop wrestling with that impossible, exhausting project that no longer really reflects the reality of my life and thinking, and start writing this new story – start talking about things that I’m actually deeply passionate about here and now. So that’s what I’ve been doing for some weeks now. And it just feels right. Writing feels like an adventure again.
I have a feeling like this didn’t fully answer your question… but it’s the best I could do at this point.
(Actually, it seems that the biggest "open question" is whether it'll take me 40 minutes to answer each question... But it's a good thing to challenge oneself every once in a while, so I think we should try and see how this goes!)
Olli, it was taking about 35-45 minutes after the time stamp to see what you wrote—which means I didn’t see your response until nearly two hours after we began—so apparently it was happening on both sides. It’s odd because your first short post at 17:59 I saw right at 18:00–a mere minute later. So maybe it was just glitchy today. In any event, it was simply untenable. Listen, I wouldn’t exactly have minded a ten hour interview with you, but I utterly hate inconveniencing people, and I certainly wasn’t going to waste your time, not knowing your schedule for today.
Sorry for the hassle on all this. I would certainly like to try again. Today was really perfect, as there’s a lot of residential construction in the area, which is prohibited on Sundays. So it was beautifully quiet and I was really primed for this.
And I thought your answer was perfect. It is EXACTLY what I was hoping the interview should be—revealing, insightful, 100% you. That’s the beauty of asking you a question—you get to answer in any way you see fit. No preconditions. No rehearsal. Just you taking the ball and running with it. Questions are fully answered by default.
So I really do want to do this. Perhaps we can try next Sunday, and maybe it would be a good idea to do a dry run sometime this week, so we fully experience blogger’s limitations.
Whatever fits your schedule, because at the moment I pretty much have none.
Next Sunday sounds good! Of course, if it turns out that it takes me an hour to answer anything, we can always "spread out" the interview and do it in parts. How many questions are there, approximately?
Also, I may have figured out ONE possible cause for the problems we were having. I noticed that when I post a comment here, the "https://brande-r.blogspot.com/2021/06/the-interview.html" becomes "https://brande-r.blogspot.com/2021/06/the-interview.html?showComment=[some numbers]". When I try to refresh the page after that, the view is sort of frozen in time... It doesn't necessarily change even if somebody has already posted a new comment. This may only happen to me, and I don't know if it's the full explanation for whatever was going on two days ago, but removing the "?showComment=" part and then refreshing the page seems to help!
Good information to have. Perhaps closing the page and clearing caches between exchanges is the answer.
I’m glad to know you weren’t totally turned off by the experience. I admit I was a little exasperated—but it’s easy to be using technology that doesn’t work very well.
Just so you know, I have no set number of questions. While I do have two or three specific topics I want to cover, all subsequent questions are derived from your responses. It’s unscripted; if it were, it wouldn’t really be conversational.
Technical issues aside, I wasn’t anticipating any question would take an hour to answer. Did it really take 40 minutes to answer my first question? If so, was it an issue with the question itself—was it too broad, too complex, etc.? Or is it more to do with answering “properly”, or something else? I can certainly make the questions laser-focused, thereby lending themselves to very short responses. Also, I know you are a very thoughtful individual—I can appreciate that you might want to ponder all possible answers and pick the best one, etc., but is it possible for you to imagine the responses as though we were sitting across from each other over a beer? (Or are there circumstances when you might not speak for forty minutes when you’re with someone in person?)
I do not mean to be making this unnecessarily complicated. Above all else, I want this to be something you’re completely comfortable with. I want it to feel more like you’re getting a massage, and less a colonoscopy. So any guidance might be helpful.
And so you have an idea of what to expect, I’m going to give you the next question (but please don’t answer it here), which jumped into my head immediately upon your response:
That certainly was ambitious to start a project that would require you to develop answers(“mature”) along the way. You mentioned that you tried to weave that maturation into the story, but that it that proved to be untenable. Was any of the ‘wisdom’ you were striving for salvageable, or did most of that collapse along the way?
As you know, I'm a really slow writer (and reader, and dishwasher, and walk-taker...) It's sort of ridiculous. As Oscar once said, "I spent all morning putting in a comma and all afternoon taking it out."
When it comes to answering questions, it gets particularly bad… Even if I have some vague, intuitive sense of what the answer might be, putting it into words takes a while. (Especially if the question is broad and open-ended.) The answer is basically a “story” that has to be created – by thinking hard, finding the relevant dots and connecting them in some aesthetically OK way. For me, 75% of the writing process is usually just sitting and looking confused and waiting for thoughts to take shape.
If we were having this conversation in a bar, this probably wouldn’t be a problem. Spoken communication is so fast and messy that there’s just no room for perfectionism. I just articulate my “vague, intuitive sense” in some clumsy, simple way – I have less control over whether it’s understandable or not. If it’s not understandable, you’ll immediately let me know, and then I’ll utter another clumsy, simple sentence, and maybe that one makes more sense to you.
I think that your questions are really good, and I sincerely appreciate all of this. I wish I knew how to make all this more massage-like… I do believe that it would be really good if I learned to write in Beer Mode more often. I actually think that my tendency to try and do EVERYTHING “properly” is holding me back in some ways… It’s simply exhausting. I mean, quality is important, but quantity isn’t unimportant either. Ideally, I’d strive for “excellence” with some things and be more spontaneous with other areas of my existence, like my social life for example. Maybe we could try to treat this interview as if it were a conversation we were having in a bar – it would give me an opportunity to practice writing in Beer Mode. (And of course I also need to learn to give interviews, that’s pretty valuable too.) And if the whole thing turns out to be impossible for some reason, perhaps one day we’ll actually meet each other over a beer and get to do a live version of this.
“Maybe we could try to treat this interview as if it were a conversation we were having in a bar...”
Yes. Yes, please.
I actually didn’t know(about you being a slow writer and reader and dishwasher and walker...and when you’re making out?). But that just adds to the reasons I love knowing you. You’re not like everyone else. You know I’m firmly in the “properly” camp. I’d never encourage you to do things otherwise. If I got a vote, you’d never do anything otherwise. I’ll take quality over quantity any day. You’re a thoughtful and careful person, qualities I’ve come to admire.
But I don’t think making the interview more colloquial would mean “improper.” I actually think it would be proper for the occasion, if that makes sense. If you’re willing to give it a try, I’ll sharpen the questions so that they lend to narrower answers. And I’d retain the wherewithal to ask you to clarify if I were in doubt as to your meaning.
Do you prefer to write at a certain time of day? <—is that a direct enough question?
or
Have you ever considered writing for the stage?
or
Can you name a couple of writers who have influenced your writing style?
Seems to me those might lend to answers that are two or three sentences. But you can let me know.
My purpose is simply to find out as much as I can about you’re writing. I’d love to plug a device into you and extract all the answers to every question, but they’ve not developed that app yet. Short of that, I would love a hyper-philosophical interview, but I’m not trying to add stress to your life. If anything, I’d like to lighten the scale.
And, if it doesn’t meet your standards in the end—it’s your blog. You could simply delete it, and go walking...slowly...
pps—I forgot to mention, in response to you revealing that you do most things slowly, that one of the things I often lament is how I’m not as “quick on my feet” as I’d like to be. I often think of the “right” thing hours, days, or months after I really needed it! Just an aside I thought worth mentioning.
Those questions are perfect. Maybe you can ask them again during the interview – I’m relatively sure it won’t take me 40 minutes to answer them. (But I can’t promise anything. We’ll see!)
Yes, I’m horribly slow. It’s a real problem. I literally have to devote entire days to things that other people seem to take care of in an hour or two. I actually think that this is negatively affecting my functionality as a person... I really need to develop other, more casual modes of doing things; normal everyday life shouldn’t be so arduous and exhausting. But you're definitely right that "properly" means different things in different contexts – it’s possible to be “casual” and “proper” simultaneously, so that’s what I’d like to learn to do. I _have_ to learn to do that.
I can relate to that tendency to think of the right thing to do or say when it’s already too late. Although, for me, it often has to do with becoming older and less idiotic, and suddenly understanding how someone else must have felt in some situation months or years ago.
I’m afraid my making out skills fall into the “clumsy and simple” category.
I can see where you’d desire alacrity in some respects. Sometimes life demands it.
You’re lucky, I think: for me not knowing what to say until later is just about not being that intelligent. And incidentally, it’s not in terms of being socially graceful—ironically that comes fairly easy—but rather in the course of discussion, presenting an argument, etc.
Clumsy and simple indeed. Fortunately, there’s no right way; more importantly, there’s no wrong way.
"in terms of being socially graceful—ironically that comes fairly easy"
I can believe that. That's actually a good word for describing you: graceful.
By the way, last night I had a dream in which I was reading a long and captivating essay you'd written about your family. In the essay, you explained that your family was weirdly "royal", or at least unusually posh and mafia-like. You had lots of male cousins, and you and your cousins where in competition as to who would inherit the family's great wealth and power. Recently, everyone's favourite cousin had died and you had become the one to inherit the "throne". Also, your entire extended family had a habit of gathering together in front of the TV and eating microwave meals.
I have no idea why my sleeping brain decided to come up with something like that, but I just thought you should know.
Wow! How did you know? Kidding of course. But if you were dreaming about something I’d written, you must have reached the area of your brain with the sign flashing ***Good writer’s currently unavailable*** Sounds like the makings of a series: Phineas and His Cousins: Race to the Throne.
Well, there certainly is a throne, just not the kind you generally want to race to. And I’m afraid my recliner from Norway and my Kennedy bust are about as posh as it gets for me. But it’s certainly nice to be featured in a dream. From the brain of Olli. Thank you for sharing.
Yeah, hard to fathom: a graceful misanthrope. Go figure...
For many years, I used to be incapable of writing in the daytime... I had to wait for the rest of the world to fall asleep before I could enter the shame-free mindset that writing requires.
However, in the past 3 or 4 years, this has changed somehow. Nowadays I often like to start writing right after I've woken up in the morning (or in the afternoon); when the world feels new and the mind feels light. I can't really explain this change.
That is fascinating. For some reason, I would have thought you exclusively a “night writer.” Writing right after you wake seems ambitious!
Michael Crichton of Jurassic Park fame, said that he used to eat the same thing for lunch every day while writing a novel, to make it seem like there was no break in writing. Do you have any such “habits” or rituals when you’re writing?
No, except the habit of constantly drinking something when I'm writing. I drink insane amounts of tea and mineral water. Quite often I also listen to music by a 1990’s band named Catherine Wheel - there's something mystical and electrifyingly beautiful about it, so it helps me to enter whatever it is I’m trying to enter.
We’ll have to talk about your choice of teas someday!
You mentioned recently that you had hundreds of pages of notes and ideas for the book you’re currently writing. Was that also the case for the book you just finished? Do you do virtually all the planning ahead of the actual writing, or do you plan as you write as well?
The planning is going on pretty much 24/7. Some of the ideas are immediately useful, most aren't, so then I just write them down and possibly figure out where they belong weeks or even years later... I had a vague collection of "images" and ideas before I started writing the Previous Book, but in the past 5 years, the amount of notes has simply exploded... The Microsoft Word file where I've been storing my ideas since about 2016 is currently 752 pages long, which is sort of crazy.
Yeah, that almost seems unmanageable in some ways; but if it’s useful to you, that’s all that really matters.
Speaking of the New Book, you’ve said that “it’s the book I was born to write.” Is it a work of fiction also, and just to understand—you’re file of ideas is a collection of notes for all future projects?
Hmm... I'd say that the New Book is (or tries to be) a magical supernatural autofictional philosophical adventure. It's a book about my life, but it's also totally Harry Potter.
Yeah, I think the notes are for all future projects, although I wrote most of them down thinking they'd be used in this book. But since using all of them is clearly impossible, they'll probably (or possibly) find their way into some other book in the future.
Sounds really interesting. I mean...really...interesting.
So when you actually sit down and write, what is the typical duration of a session in front of the keyboard? I would image with all the tea and mineral water there have to be some bathroom breaks...
Yes, it's fucking interesting!!!! At least writing it is. I really don't understand why everyone doesn't do this and try writing this way.
There are lots of bathroom breaks. They're actually very helpful, because they allow me to walk and stand for a moment, which has the strange effect of invigorating the brain and helping it solve problems.
Generally, it's really hard to estimate for how many hours I write on an average day. Sometimes it takes most of the day, but all the little breaks blur the picture.
Yeah, I can see where movement helps the whole process. A little stretch now and then is probably appreciated by the body.
Well, Olli, we’ll actually have to leave it right there and pick it up again in the near future. I actually have an appointment this morning in about 45 minutes which is somewhat vital...I may elaborate later.
Sorry I had to leave rather abruptly. It was actually not life-threatening. Just something rather important in the carnage that has become my life. Thank you for the good wishes.
I’m elated that the interview seemed to go well. I really enjoyed it and learned a great deal; of course I knew I would. I am looking forward to more. Thank you for availing yourself.
Awesome to know that your life (or anyone else's life) is not in danger. (Whatever it is/was, I hope it isn't causing much suffering.) I actually sincerely thought I had cancer about two months ago, but it turned out that the mysterious bruises were simply caused by the heavy bike I ride when I deliver mail.
There were some things I wanted to ask regarding this:
"...all of this is on the heels of watching my father have a stroke in person three weeks ago(it was mild also, with no lasting effects), just two days after returning from one of the best trips I’ve ever taken."
No, it was nothing concerning physical health. It was actually a meeting I had with a former employer, whom I’ve kept in touch with for years, about taking some steps for my future. It’s a fairly precarious situation I’m in, nearly uncharted territory. The last time I felt like this is when I moved to New York and just about everything was uncertain. The best I can describe it is that it’s a feeling where I just feel like I want to fall apart, and it’s sort of hard to concentrate. I don’t really know what depression feels like, since I’ve never really been depressed that I’m aware of. It has seemed to have gotten better the past couple of days. I have fewer moments of that “I just want to die” feeling(it’s not a suicidal feeling, it’s more like a “can this get any worse?” feeling). And naturally, the 40th anniversary of the worst day of my life is a couple days away, and very present in my thoughts, as it is this time each year. So my mind is constantly in “Jesus Christ, what’s next?” mode. It’s not my intention to be morose here, just rather matter-of-fact.
I’m glad it was only bruising from your bike! I think I can picture the type of bike—one with wide tires. Speaking of bikes, it is clumsy of me to have forgotten to ask how your wrist surgery went. (So much for being socially graceful...) I do hope it went well and leaves no lasting ill-effects.
My father. Well, somebody else could probably be more objective. He’s not someone I like being around very much. I never really have. But that’s relationship stuff. As for the man, he’s smart, and curious, very insecure and probably the most hypocritical person I’ve ever known. And he always says the wrong thing. He’s very child-like now: he never takes responsibility for anything he does. He’s quick to blame anyone else. If he makes some sort of mess, he’ll just walk away and wait for my mother to clean it up. I could keep going, but you get the idea I think. I have some of his good and bad qualities, which drives me nuts.
I will make the trip another post. I’m nearly out of energy.
I will say this: we’ve had quite a bit of communication in the past week or so—I can’t explain what I mean to say here. It’s been helpful or positive in some way. That’s all I can say.
Going to primary schools in the Northwest US means lessons on the history of the native peoples. One tribe in particular has always fascinated me.
In 1877, the Nez Perce who were not already living on reservations were given an ultimatum: move to the reservation in 30 days, or face the US Army in battle. It was the latest in the US government’s unilateral abrogation of treaties, but the tribe reluctantly agreed that the reservation was the best option for their people. During the journey to the reservation, a few renegade tribesmen killed some settlers who had previously gotten away with murder. The tribal leaders knew what the response of the US would be, though they still hoped to avert a fight. When the US sent the Army to where the tribe was camped, a civilian scout fired at the tribe, who came to meet the Army under a white flag of truce. Nez Perce warriors killed 34 soldiers in response—and lost none of their own. From mid-June to early October, about 750-800 Nez Perce, including only about 200 warriors, engaged the US Army as they attempted to flee to Canada—a 2,500 km journey through some of the toughest mountain terrain in the United States.
I traveled along nearly all of that journey, stopping at various points of interest, including the three major battlefields of that conflict. So, from White Bird Canyon to the Bear Paw Mountains, I traced the footsteps of what I consider the greatest Americans who ever lived. I tried to imagine their plight and feel their sorrow. I walked alone on their battlefields, on the bones of their dead buried in haste, through the beautiful meadows, listening to the creeks and the wind.
Wow. I'd never heard of the Nez Perce before. But it's not hard to understand why you consider them the greatest Americans who ever lived... It's all very moving to imagine.
I googled White Bird Canyon and the Bear Paw Mountains and they look really, really beautiful and impressive. I've never personally experienced landscapes like those. How long did the trip take?
What you've been going through really sounds quite difficult and unsettling. In your letter two or three months ago, you said you felt like your life is currently a train wreck. When and how did all this start? Or was there any specific starting point? And what explains the "ephemeral" feeling you've had for some years now? I'm not pretending these are easily answerable questions. What you're battling with just sounds like something quite important and existential.
What's your mother like?
My wrist surgery was easy and painless. They didn't even anesthetize me; they just gave me a magical injection that turned my arm into a useless lump of meat with no sensation (except for the sensation of "numbness"). It stayed that way for about 18 hours, which was interesting. Like I had a dead person's arm attached to me.
My wrist is almost normal now, which means that I'm going to return to my mailman life in a few days. We'll see how that goes. I'm actually really grateful to the wonderful person who hit me with their car, because these 7 weeks of freedom have really been helpful writing-wise.
I am very happy to hear that your wrist is more or less back to normal. Maybe whatever potion they gave you was a gift directly from Hogwarts. That must have been an odd experience to have a paralyzed limb.
Well, I’ll put it this way: having a job would remedy just about everything. There is indeed something unsettling about being homeless and non-employed. As to when and how it all began: those are fair questions, good questions even. I don’t really think I can pinpoint a single reason that things got to be how they are, except my loathing for the job-getting process(doing the work is the easy part) and the belief that I could draw on resources that in fact are unavailable for a few years. But I can tell you I am happy to own my decisions and regret nothing to a material degree. Besides, I simply don’t think looking back is very productive—with some exceptions, I tend not to dwell. I have taken steps recently that will help me move forward. I at least must try. I owe that to myself.
I didn’t intend to delve too deeply into that topic with you. But I wanted to mention it with a little more substance since I have referenced it peripherally to you, and because it’s somewhat unfair to mention something in a somewhat cryptic fashion. In sum, it’s a fairly big deal in my life right now, but my not featuring it only reflects that I’d rather talk with you about anything else, when given the opportunity.
I’m glad you took the time to see White Bird Canyon and the Bear Paw. It is without a doubt the most sacred ground I’ve walked on. It was eerie just being in those places, especially the Big Hole. They look like they did in 1877 since they are still remote areas(the gold that was discovered that precipitated the Natives’ forced relocation didn’t sustain the white settlers for long). It seems sort of dreamlike that I was ever there. It was otherworldly to be sure. What they did impresses me to no end.
I spent a total of five days on the trip and really was never rushed for time. The only thing that would have made it better would have been sharing it with someone equally interested and enthusiastic. I also drove through a hail storm—my first in decades—and saw a herd of baby Bighorn Sheep in the wild, which was a thrill. It was unlike any trip I’ve taken before.
Your trip sounds absolutely magnificent. Really… If I were(!) more comfortable with driving, I’d probably be doing things like that.
Hail storms are nice.
I just got back from my own trip. It was quite different from yours, but there were some similarities. I walked to Lohja, again. You can google it – I promise you won’t be impressed, but I just love that fucking place, for reasons I don’t fully understand. Just arriving there gave me a feeling of quiet happiness. There’s also something satisfying about traveling by foot; it helps me remember how big the world actually is. I learned that in the 19th century, Aleksis Kivi, “the national writer” of Finland, regularly walked the same roads I did some days ago. I don’t feel any particular personal connection to Aleksis Kivi (at the moment, at least), but it’s odd to know that the landscape hasn’t really changed since he walked there.
I’m always interested in learning about your life. But it’s also perfectly understandable if you don’t feel like discussing the details of your current situation. I really hope things get better soon. But all in all, I think that "existential crises" are positive. Or at least a sign of something positive. I don’t know if you’d describe your situation as an existential crisis, but I just think that being slightly (or sometimes very) uncomfortable with the world around you, or the life you’re living, is healthy and good. People with no depth don’t experience such things.
So why are you uncomfortable with driving? (Though I am impressed that you are motivated to walk to a place 40 miles from Helsinki!) I walk 5 miles most days and you’re making me feel unworthy of my legs!
It is refreshing that you are so captivated by Lohja. I take it the lake there is a feature you enjoy? Do you participate in any water sports? Imagine being called “the national writer of [insert nation here]”. That’s astonishing. I guess you’ve got a lot to aspire to now. Perhaps your use of the subjunctive is a start? I joke, naturally.
Well, frankly, my hesitance of discussing anything unpleasant is the result of what I call the “Fun Bobby” dilemma. As a watcher of “Friends,” you may recall the episode where the friends realized that their fun ‘friend’ was not as fun sober, and so they abandoned him when he stopped drinking. (Almost) needless to say, that’s not far from the truth of what happens here. Friendships are nearly ‘transactional.’ If you’re not fulfilling your end(mostly in the form of entertaining the other party in some way), the transaction is cancelled! Hearing about someone’s struggles is not included in the fine print.
I’m not suggesting you’re of the same bent—I’d have a hard time believing that you are—but it’s always on my mind, this balancing act of how much bad news you’re allowed to share before you’re “fun Bobby-ed”.
I hope you’re able to bottle an ‘Existential Crisis is Positive’ elixir. I would rather not be enduring my current situation. Nothing is certain in life and obstacles abound; still, some element of stability is usually desirable. I’m not at all concerned about not having lived ‘deeply.’ That’s one think I will never have to regret.
Oh! I forgot to answer vis-a-vis my ephemeral state of mind: it has absolutely nothing to do with my current particulars; it was something I inexplicably adopted before I even left my life in New York. Being in the moment is something I wish I’d been able to do decades before. Not only is it helpful in a utilitarian sense; I believe it is the ‘proper’ way to live. Too much of our time is spent in some place or time we’re not. Being in the moment, 100% focused on the task or thought at hand makes just about everything seem worthwhile. In an era where people are on their phones while they fuck(and others simply yield to it, which is even more revolting), it’s somewhat liberating to consider myself distant from that mentality.
My mother is a decent person. She thinks of others before herself much of the time(I think all good mothers have that in common). But she can be bitchy and judgmental, which can be off putting at times. She knows me probably better than anyone, because she pays attention(see second sentence), and that is comforting to a degree. She can be ‘warm’ but that’s not the default. The default is more ‘caring’ in a sort of practical way. I enjoy spending time with her because she is easy going and outgoing to a degree, but of course we have nothing in common, so the conversation is often just fluff.
I wonder how that paragraph would have gone if I’d written it a few days ago. Attitudes about people can change fairly quickly at times.
Walking to Lohja took three days, or about 5 hours of walking per day. It was slightly painful, but I knew it would be.
I don’t participate in any water sports. As a general rule, I’m remarkably passive and ghost-like. I just walk around, think my thoughts and watch other people do things. That’s my style, usually. The lake is probably the best thing about Lohja. There are spots where one can sit and be alone and feel the wind coming across the lake and feel happy. And when it’s dark, the lake becomes absolutely magical, mysterious lights flashing in the distance. I also enjoy the size of Lohja: it’s small enough and big enough. But the context also explains why I like it so much: there’s just something exciting about arriving there after spending so many hours walking through the countryside and seeing nothing but cars and insects. The hotel room and the bars and the grocery stores and the easiness of modern living suddenly seem unusual and luxurious.
I guess what makes driving scary are the constant mental images of me suddenly making a mistake and killing somebody with the car. I don’t know why I’m so afraid of that, but it probably has something to do with the fact that I wasn’t a particularly good student in driving school. I wasn’t horrible either, but there were some dangerous moments, and I was unhappy and stressed out and had to take the driving test four times before I passed. Maybe one day I’ll force myself to drive until it starts to feel natural. And just hope I won’t kill anyone.
I remember Fun Bobby. Has that happened to you in the past? Or have you seen it happening? While there is certainly some truth to the Fun Bobby thing, it doesn’t quite resonate with me. Strangely, I feel like discussing the painfulness of life is an essential part of all my friendships. Quite often, anxiety, loneliness, unhappy families and other such things have been among the first things I’ve discussed with people. It’s weird but true, and it’s probably partially explained by the fact that people have found and read my blog(s) before meeting me in the physical world. There’s been a sense that seriousness and weirdness are OK... I really don’t think that the darker shades of life are boring. Actually, it seems to me that they are the road to deep and close relationships.
Besides, didn’t Fun Bobby become boring principally because his personality disappeared completely when he stopped drinking? Even in that case, abandoning him was a really shitty thing to do. But I guess God had decided that Fun Bobby would be a one-episode kind of guy….
Your ephemeral state sounds quite ideal and wonderful. I think you’ve found something that many people would like to find. I’m also glad your state includes “thoughts”. In meditative circles, the ideal of mindfulness has been a big thing for a long time, and even outside those circles a lot of people seem to be drawn to the idea of living in the moment. I think that’s enormously valuable – it’s just that my idea of mindfulness includes being alive and present to the inner world, too… If mindfulness is JUST a matter of thinking about the dishes while doing the dishes and shutting off the imagination, I don’t really care about mindfulness. The most alive moments in my life have always been moments when I’m pleasurably engaging with the world around me, really looking at everything, and the things I see fill me with all kinds of memories and dreams, thoughts and ideas… One moment of life becomes a door to experiencing the totality of life – the present, yes, but also the past, and all the possible futures.
One of the main reasons why people’s addictions to their phones bother me is that they miss out on thinking and daydreaming. I feel like those things are necessary on a human level, at least when it comes to creativity and becoming a wiser human being.
Somehow I think I should have known about your passivity. I think it’s entirely possible that you lead a more solitary life than I, and that’s not something I encounter often, and so is easy to overlook. Whatever the reality, it is beautiful testimony that you can find such pleasure sitting alone while the wind crafts your hair opposite the twinkling lights. Soreness aside, the walk sounds amazing. There are few things that give me as much pleasure at the moment. Perhaps I’ll try a lengthy journey of my own, now that the pestering issue of plantar fasciitis seems resolved.
It’s true—nobody should get behind the wheel without a certain level of confidence, so maybe not driving is for the best at least for now. But something tells me Finland would be well traversed by auto. Though maybe trains could accomplish as much? I’m a huge proponent of public transport, besides.
Yes, I’ve seen people here “fun Bobby-Ed” numerous times. For me it’s slightly different because at the earliest signs, I simply drop out of the relationship preemptively. It’s probably 90% of the reason I don’t have friends. I consider being oneself a vital aspect of friendship. In that regard, I’m actually grateful, as it wouldn’t occur to me to disassociate with someone simply because they were no longer able to keep me entertained. Like you, I think those dark places are the root of real friendship. We’re of such a similar mind on this that I don’t have to utter another word, except to say I’ve never met a soul who wasn’t interesting enough to know in some way, or needed to know someone.
The gods here in America often make people worthy of no more than a single episode.
Yeah, being ephemeral doesn’t have to discount imagination. Why can’t daydreaming and even just thinking be considered worthy of focus? It really was something that happened quite by chance in my case—I could not even begin to explain the change, as it was nothing of a conscious effort. So I take no credit for it. I’m just glad for it. Even dishwashing deserves my full attention. I’m not suggesting the mind can’t ever wander or that thinking about tomorrow is unwise. I’m just promoting ‘being’ where we are rather than elsewhere as a default. Unless I’m playing chess—then I have to everywhere at once: past, present and future.
I really recommend traveling by foot. Although trains and buses are great too… at least when they’re not totally packed with people. But I also like going to strange, remote, desolate places, and a car would be useful in the sense that it would enable me to go almost anywhere fairly easily. On the other hand, the planet probably wouldn’t mind if I remained carless for the rest of my life.
It sucks that you’ve witnessed so much human shittiness. At the same time, I can’t help wondering whether there’s a risk of judging people too quickly… Personally, I have a slight pathological tendency to just assume that people are self-centered and superficial before I get to know them, and quite often, I’ve been surprised by their decency or thoughtfulness (and then I feel stupid.) But it’s an unfortunate fact that giving people a (second) chance is risky, and usually stressful. I’m sure you haven’t made those decisions lightly.
About mindfulness and daydreaming – I have to add a few things to what I wrote earlier, because this stuff is really complex.
As with everything else, when it comes to thinking and imagination, the most important question is: does it help you or does it enslave you? Do these things enrich your existence, or are they stopping you from concentrating on things that you deeply care about? Rumination is different from reflection, and daydreaming can become problematic if one is unable to switch it off. Still, I feel very motivated to write about and defend the inner universe (thinking, remembering, introspection and fantasy), because not a lot of people seem to be doing that at the moment. The technology industry is doing very bad things to people’s ability to pay attention, BUT it’s also making the world a duller, stupider place by replacing people’s individual thoughts and unique inner worlds with an endless, collective stream of mostly trivial information. While the ability to be present and undistracted is totally essential in human life, some “distractions” are better than others, and can sometimes even be necessary. So I think that the problems created and/or exacerbated by the technology industry are quite diverse, and all of them should be taken seriously and addressed.
While true—I’ve witness as much human shittiness as anyone else, I suppose—I’ve also witnessed those things that make knowing people worthwhile. As to whether I’ve judged too quickly, I’ll answer this way: one of the few things Donald Trump ever said that I agreed with is that “...yes, people deserve second chances, and even third chances.” My first impressions tend to prove correct(which of course means I’ve also been wrong), but that doesn’t mean I judge anyone by their worst day. Like you, my expectations are usually low, but that makes it nice when they’re exceeded.
I recently took a book to a local shopping center to enjoy with a cup of coffee. There’s a guy who makes coffee regularly and I’ve noticed he’s very friendly and inquisitive with people. I would guess he’s in his early 20’s, perhaps as old as 25. He noticed my book and inquired in a very polite way, and even knew a little something about the subject. I was further impressed that he thought enough to mention that a former co-worker of his who is no longer working there is now at another nearby place—because he knew I was fond of the other guy. So, it’s not all crap. He’s probably the most intellectually curious person I’ve met in at least a few years.
I thought I understood what you had to say about the “inner universe,” but maybe I don’t. I just wanted to make it clear that I have no problem with people daydreaming or remembering or fantasizing. It’s just that I’m a proponent of doing those things in earnest rather that just making them an ancillary activity. Same for anything really. When I’m with someone in person—I don’t want to be thinking of being somewhere else, or being with someone else. So I’m a fan of your inner universe. And the outer universe. I just think they both deserve our utmost. And of course I think daydreaming or thinking while walking is a far cry from doing so while driving. I’d encourage it in the former instance and deplore it in the latter!
Your related points about the influence of technology are well-taken, but I’m afraid I have some fairly strong disagreements. As silly as I consider Twitter and Facebook, et al, I don’t really blame them. I blame their users. I realize that some people simply don’t know better(and I’m certainly not pointing the finger at them), but most people are presumably intelligent enough to put down their phones(years ago it was turning off the TV). It’s a matter of wanting to. No doubt there are those who are in the trade of manipulation. But if you and I are aware, aren’t others? (Maybe I’ll just include myself.) I don’t consider myself all that intelligent compared with others, but I’m certainly not enamored with the allure of phones and their potential to make me present “everywhere, at once.” I suppose this is somewhat akin to my blaming those who voted for President Trump more than the man himself. Are a hundred million people really so dumb they can’t see the bullshit? Certainly some are. But I suppose most are just content to be in a bubble that reinforces their points of view. I don’t know if that’s a fair analogy or not. But hopefully the point remains.
Now that I’ve become a mailman again, I’m probably not going to be able to write to you as often as I’d like to.
This is the bad side of slowness: because it takes me a million years to do things, I feel like I don’t have enough time for all the things I care about.
Or, actually, the problem is something a bit more specific – namely that whenever I feel like my writing is stuck in some way, or not moving forward the way I’d like it to, I become joyless in other areas of my life. And the lack of joy is probably the thing that slows me down more than anything. With joy, things are easy; without it, they’re difficult.
I really don’t know why this is, but it’s particularly detrimental to the social dimension of my life. I think there’s probably still something unexamined in my relationship to writing; something not quite healthy that has a hold on me. Nevertheless, sooner or later I’m going to have to admit that this mail delivery thing is too time-consuming. As positive as it has been in other ways, it definitely has a negative effect in terms of how much time I have for writing, and when I don’t have enough time for writing, my life suffers as a whole.
I think I really understand what you’re talking about when you talk about living in the moment. That state is existentially ideal, in many ways. Socially, there’s probably nothing more wonderful (and even transformative) than spending time with a person who’s totally present and genuinely paying attention. That’s the kind of person I’d also like to be, and try to be.
The reason why I went on about the importance of the inner universe isn’t that I think that YOU don’t get it; it’s really because it’s something that I deeply care about and have spent a lot of time thinking about… I feel a sense of duty when it comes to writing about this stuff. I guess I went into sermon mode instead of fully engaging with our conversation and what you were saying.
To be honest, I’m a bit stressed out and struggling under the weight of all the things that I feel a “sense of duty” to write about. The New Book is becoming too immense and complicated, and there’s a part of me that would like to flee to the mountains and abandon everything and just sit and wait and let everything clear up in my head. Your ephemeral state would actually be really helpful now. The ability to take care of one step at a time, without worrying about all the other steps, is pretty important in creative work.
It makes me happy to hear you also get to witness the better sides of humanity. What was the book you discussed with the coffee guy?
The question of whether human nature is inherently bad or inherently alright is complex, and I’ll probably write more about it at a later point. But I’ll just say that I don’t think that there’s some objectively right answer; it’s all just a matter of different moods creating different ways of seeing. Still, whenever I manage to look at other people as inherently moral beings who are trying to do their best according to their sense of right and wrong (even if their values and priorities and fantasies differ from mine, and even if their cognitive and emotional resources sometimes run out), I feel like that way of looking is more sober and more spacious and somehow more “realistic” than the misanthropic, black-and-white, “people are jerks and idiots” way of thinking about the world. I suspect that the “people are jerks and idiots” way of looking is really the heart trying to protect itself. To always expect the worst is a safe place to be, but also profoundly destructive.
I get what you’re saying about social media (and Trump). It's true that people's general lack of reflection probably partly explains why they started buying smartphones in the first place. Still, I assume that very few people actually realized HOW addictive these devices would be. There are millions (dozens of millions? hundreds of millions?) of people who'd love to be less distracted and spend more time focusing on things other than social media (like their families or their work or hobbies), and parents generally worry about their children’s screen time. However, using a smartphone in moderation is currently very difficult. These devices are simply too alluring.
Tristan Harris – a former Google employee who's now devoting his life to educating people about the dark side of the technology industry – has explained that the whole business model of Silicon Valley is based on deliberately creating addiction. Thousands of experts – the world’s smartest engineers, psychologists, neuroscientists etc. – have worked very hard to maximize how much time people spend looking at their phones. They know a lot about people's psychological vulnerabilities, and their job is to design these products in a way that exploits those vulnerabilities. The reason for this is that the business model of social media is ad-based: the real clients of companies like Facebook are actually not the users of social media, but other companies buying space for their ads. The role and purpose of the average social media user is simply to be a pair of eyeballs spending as much time as possible looking at social media and seeing those ads.
What Harris and other Silicon Valley dissidents are saying is that these technologies could also work very differently. Instead of manipulating people, all these knowledgeable experts could design these devices and platforms in a way that would help people actively CHOOSE what kind of role they want technology to play in their lives. The users could become the clients. So for example, instead of trying to steal its owner’s attention and make them forget what they were doing 300 times a day, a smartphone would actively assist a person in staying undistracted and focused on the things they want to focus on. Instead of creating polarization by constantly boosting and promoting shocking and provocative material, the algorithms of social media could favour and encourage good and civil behaviour.
Of course, none of this is just a matter of what technology companies do or don’t do; people have always been drawn to things like gossip and entertainment, and there may be deeper societal reasons causing people to want to escape their minds and surroundings. It’s just that I think that talking about the technology industry is the smartest approach to take, because it’s the easiest thing to change. I believe that if people knew that changing the way this technology works – and turning it into something more helpful and meaningful – is an option, many people would start actively demanding it. That’s one of the things I really, really dream of seeing in this lifetime.
I just felt like I was talking about it in a "sermonizing" or slightly unresponsive way, and thus possibly giving the impression that I thought you didn't "get it".
It's all just tiredness. As magical as the inner universe is, I'd really like to find a way to turn it down a little after 10 p.m... If I don't figure out how to do that, this writing thing is probably literally going to kill me sooner or later. It's like there's a bunch of very lively ghosts tickling my insides, and their party often starts when I'd like to go to bed.... God, I need some rest.
Also, I'm sorry that it took me so long to answer such a simple question. For complicated reasons, I was avoiding my email (which is where I first notice when you've said something). Knowing how difficult your situation is, I'd really like to be there - or here - or somewhere - for you and not disappear for unspecified periods of time. Just know that even when I do that, you're in my thoughts all the time.
I think about "human nature" a lot. It seems that what you said about Fun Bobby shocked my system in some way that I can't articulate very well. I feel somehow angry every time I think about it.
I guess the first reason is that I'd like to think that people are not like that, and it's unpleasant to admit that sometimes they are. The second reason is that it's just not right that you've mainly known people that are so emotionally and existentially inept that they abandon a person simply because he or she is going through something difficult. I mean, who are these people, and why are they shitting on humanity? Ineptitude may be common, but I know that humanity is capable of a lot better than that. I've seen it and experienced it. In myself and in others.
I'm too tired to know exactly what it is that I'm trying to say.
It was in some way imperative to have an answer to my question: I would hate for you to think anything I would ever say could indicate that you were saying too much. I hope that I’ve been clear to the contrary: when it comes to what you care about, I want more, not less, despite recognizing I having no say in the matter.
I was hoping your return to the rigors of ascending tall buildings with sacks of mail would help help tire you to the point you could rest properly. (At the same time, I, too, have wondered how delivering mail might hamper your passion—particularly because your theoretically limited schedule often gets augmented.) I wish I had a remedy to counter your active mind; while I can’t identify in exactly the same terms, I have over the years lamented that my mind is at times overactive and that I would welcome a mechanism that could throttle it back when necessary. I’m sure it’s nothing like what you experience. The way you describe it, your mind has a lot in common with a bees’ nest.
I’m sorry you’re not finding much joy in your life at the moment. I get where you’re coming from when you speak of the energy that typically results from joyfulness. Does anything ever noticeably clear your mind? Since my ephemeral reckoning was accidental, I’m afraid I have no way to unlock its activation in others. But I’m confident that you will wrap your head around the New Book in a way that results in a manageable scope. Just make sure you keep the proper focus. “Does this(word/sentence/paragraph/chapter) contribute to what I’m trying to convey?” That’s what we should always be asking. (“We” because, if you can believe it, I have decided to move forward with a writing project. I don’t want to go into any details just yet. But soon.)
Please don’t be too disturbed by my mention of “fun Bobby.” You are right—there is plenty of humanity in the world. I have been lucky to experience it too. I think the reason for the shittiness usually involves a sense of self-importance. Unfortunately, I’ve never known a time in my life where it’s been to such a high degree as now. But that’s not to say I consider that ‘natural.’ I don’t think people have a default when it comes to their ‘nature.’ I believe so much goes into the equation that it just it’s incomprehensible. And isn’t it ironic that ineptitude doesn’t disqualify a person from being full of humanity?
Oh—I nearly forgot. The book I was conveying to Mr. Coffee was called The Battle of the Big Hole. And I just finished another on the broader subject of the events of 1877 and the trip I took two months ago. I have been a reading fiend lately! I’m actually going to start another book on the same subject in a couple days. I’ve never read so much on one subject in my life.
So that—and job searching have been keeping me busy lately. I really have felt good, even though I have plenty of reasons not to(again—the ephemeral thing). And I am grateful for your concern and what you said about being here(there) for me. It is very kind of you. But you needn’t worry. I still find this life fascinating.
Olli—I’m going to write more, either today or tomorrow. Just some odds & ends. But for now, I just wanted to say I hope you are doing all right—I’ve been thinking about a lot of the things we’ve spoken about recently.
One of the things that’s actually been at the fore of those thoughts is how you are inspired by the right sorts of people to want to do good. It’s a thought that’s given me substantial pleasure recently.
There’s more, but it’s late and I want to sleep a little.
I just wanted to say: I hope you’re finding moments—great or small—that make you happy.
How cool to know you’ve been writing something too. Hopefully you’ll let me read it when it’s finished. And it makes me happy to hear about your fascination with 1877 and life in general. Does the writing project contribute to that sense of aliveness in any way? I’m asking this because two other friends have recently surprised me by telling me about their writing projects – suddenly people in my life are writing, and it’s interesting how it seems to change something about a person’s way of being in the world. There’s just something about writing that brings a sense of meaning and agency… Even juiciness and wonder.
Of course, one can also kill oneself by writing too much. In the past week and a half, I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on the place of writing in my life. It really woke me up when I realized that the New Book was turning into a life-eating monster just like the book I already abandoned. Spending all day and all night either writing it or thinking about it was starting to feel like being eaten by something all the time. I don’t like the joyless, lifeless, reclusive skeleton I was turning into, again.
The fact is: the book I’m trying to write is impossible. It’s so challenging in so many different ways that there’s just no way I’m going to succeed.
And yet, weirdly, I may be able to pull it off. What it really depends on is whether or not I’m HAVING FUN writing it. This may sound oversimplifying – but it’s not. It really is this simple. As I wrote earlier: with joy, things are easy; without joy, they’re difficult. I don’t know if this applies to all things in life (probably not), but at least in creative work, the power of joy is almost supernatural in the sense that it seems to magically solve every problem, or make problems disappear. I’ve been a writer for more than a decade now, and I’ve experienced it countless times: when there’s joy, all things just sort of take care of themselves. Actually, whether or not you “succeed” at whatever it was you intended to do almost becomes _irrelevant_, because what you’re creating is going to be alive and real anyway, even if it’s something totally different from what you had in mind.
From now on, I’m going to prioritize creating an environment where joy can thrive. That almost sounds silly, and yet it’s so radically important that I feel like I’ve cracked some code or escaped some prison, fooled the world and figured out what life is about. I don’t even regret not realizing this earlier – I’m just glad I realized it now. What’s particularly great is that I think I already know how joy is kept alive and cultivated.
About three years ago (or something), I became really diligent about writing, I started working really hard on it every single day, very seriously and conscientiously, even when I didn’t feel like it, and the result was that I’ve gotten to experience stress and exhaustion to an extent I never knew before. In my case, maximizing the time and effort spent on writing really, really doesn’t help writing. Interestingly, the healthiest, most alive and creative periods of my life in the past years have been the spring of 2020 and the spring of this year, because during those periods I allowed myself to take a break from writing and do whatever the hell I wanted. Take a long walk when I felt like taking a long walk. Take an unreasonably long bath, just hang out with the Canis lupus, ride public transportation to random places. In the end, I didn’t even stop writing during those periods – I just wrote less, and I wrote well. Feeling like I didn’t have to get things done helped me get things done.
I saw a psychiatrist 10 days ago and he prescribed some drugs that are supposed to help me sleep and feel better (apparently without harmful side effects). After that, I actually have been feeling better, but I think that the real reason is simply that I’ve allowed myself to relax again. This time, I’m going to try to make this the default state. It’ll probably take some practicing, but that’s fine. From now on, I’m going to allow myself to stay away from the computer whenever I feel like doing something else. I’ll only write when I feel a certain excitement – which is quite often, because without a sense of hurry and pressure, joy just seems to appear naturally. From now on, taking a day off is my first medicine whenever I get stuck in some way.
What you wrote about human nature is very true, and wise. I agree. At the end of the day, there is no default. There’s just complexity. And I think that really often this stuff comes down to interpretation.
Still, thinking about human nature is certainly not a waste of time. I think that it’s really important to find a balance between 1) acknowledging the bad and 2) believing in the good. There’s no denying there are terrible and hurtful things going on in this world, and turning away from them would be irresponsible and wrong, not to mention brainless. The truth is that our species is capable of greater idiocy and darkness and violence than any other species that has ever existed. AND YET we’re also capable of greater wisdom, and more radical compassion and altruism, than any other species in the history of this planet. One just needs to believe that that side of us will win in the end – and keep acting according to that possibility, serve and advance that side of the world in every way that’s possible.
If one reacts to the darkness of the world by turning that light off, darkness has won.
Even on a more personal level, I guess the only road to love and connection is to just take a risk and believe in the good, even while acknowledging that things may go wrong. This is actually a complex topic for me, too, because the fact is that I still haven’t learned to live as a person among other people. I have a lot more clarity and insight when it comes to saving the world than when it comes to spending time with other people and sharing myself with them. I think that in terms of friendship and intimacy, I’ve actually fucked up in a big way. In mean, I actually really like my friends, and spend a lot of time thinking about the people I know, and yet I think I’ve repeatedly made people feel insecure and confused, caused them to wonder whether I give a shit about them or not. You know, I often hide, especially in the presence of other people. Obviously, this is not the whole truth – I’ve also been a great friend in many respects, but I know that I’ve fucked up in terms of taking the risk and really letting people into my life. And it’s just difficult and scary to fix something like that. And yet, it’s something I’m going to have to do sooner or later... There are matters of life and death, but there are also matters of “life or half a life”, and I think that this is one of those.
Listen to this and let me know if you like it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SLeyuKiMosY
Well, to be clear, I’ve not actually written anything yet. That’s not entirely true—I’ve written some of the introduction, mostly just so I don’t forget. I was on a walk—sans music—and thought of the intro and the opening, and wanted to get the intro down because it’s somewhat technical in nature. It’s a project that’s required a good bit of research, and I’m nearly done with that. The nature of the project precludes me from wanting to talk about it before I’m done, but yes, you will definitely be asked to read it. In fact, I’m actually counting on that as integral to the process.
All right, now to deflate the writer’s boner: there is absolutely nothing about this project that is exciting or making me feel more alive. No juiciness. No meaning. I see it really as nothing more than a process, really. It is nothing less than…work. But am I glad I’m doing it? Hell yes!
Sitting down to write will be the easy part. The heavy lifting is in the outline and answering a major philosophic question. I’m sure I will learn things along the way—I already have. But I’ve got the whole thing envisioned, so it’s really just a matter of time, literally. I just can’t do everything in a day, unfortunately. I wish I could. I will add this: I find myself thinking about it very often. Not paralyzingly so, but often.
Okay, so now on to your writing. I’m very sorry that everything is at a crossroads in terms of your writing. But I have to tell you: writing—especially the writing you want to do—is hard work. You can enjoy the work, it can affect you positively. But I’m nearly certain it will never be “fun.” To that end, I was sorry to read: “…there’s just no way I’m going to succeed.” You’ve abandoned one project. And don’t get me wrong—that possibility always has to be part of the equation. But now? To do that with the book you were “…born to write.”?
You’ve spoken before about how crisis can bring out your best. Maybe now is the time to demonstrate it. Obviously you can do nothing without your health—that must supersede all. But just don’t give up on yourself. You’ve taken on a monumental task. Slim it down. Attack it in pieces. Sounds like the pressure you’ve put on yourself has caught you. I’m glad the pharmaceuticals are helping.
Taking breaks when you need them is a terrific idea. Whenever I have long interludes between piano playing, it always sounds better. In fact, the longer the break, the better the sound! So I get it.
I like everything you had to say about human nature: it’s complex, it deserves to be explored, and there’s no default. I agree that whatever bad there is should no deter us from exploring the good. There is tremendous capacity for human beings—I believe that’s what Dr. Bregman was trying to tell us, ultimately.
It would be hard for me to put just how badly you’ve fucked up into proper perspective in terms of your interpersonal relationships. Somehow, I think you might be overstating it. I just can’t fathom how a guy like you could be perceived at aiming at less than the good. Still, it’s an important acknowledgment that you are somehow withdrawn, distant, or “inside your shell,” when you’re around other people. Given all that, why do I envision you “commanding” any room you’re in? I can’t picture it any other way. I recall when your friend Arsi said you seemed to be totally engaged at his book party when you were in a room mostly filled with strangers.
I think you’re right about the key to relationships—of just about any kind. There is a certain degree of risk associated. You’ve got to expose yourself to some degree. Vulnerability isn’t easy, but in terms of the potential rewards, it’s crucial. But Jesus Christ, that’s just expressing it in an almost mathematical way. It’s just part of being a complete person. Going through this life in a superficial way isn’t really going through life at all.
I’m frankly surprised in a big way at your admission. When I first learned of this blog, one of my first thoughts was: “Man, this guy isn’t afraid of anything. He puts it all out there.” I realize people are far more complex than a few(hundred) blog posts, but that’s how you come across—supremely confident. But my gosh! I think the real point here is that I can’t think of a solitary reason you shouldn’t be! You’re amazing in a lot of ways. Remarkable even.
You spoke of the fear of it all—letting yourself be you when you’re with others, vulnerable and exposed as your true self. Surely you’ve done that more than once—how did it go? Did you regret it? Did the other person or other people react negatively? I’m guessing your experience has been mostly the former?
I know you believe in yourself—we’ve spoken about it.
A few things I forgot to mention(the odds & ends among them):
I have taken quite a few long walks without music to focus on “the project”. It’s been enormously beneficial. I’ve gotten a lot done in my head and then noted it when I got home. It is interesting how different the experience is without headphones—I actually have to talk with people. The ones who talk are exceedingly friendly. And the assortment of canines—Jesus!
On one walk recently, there were a couple of bonuses—
I found a guitar pick, which had a faded number on it, .73 - I wasn’t aware they came in sizes.
And I saw juvenile red-tailed hawk. I was ecstatic about it. It was about 12 feet away, on a fence bordering a pasture. When I arrived it was eating. I stayed observing for about 25 minutes. It was still on the fence when I left. It was keenly aware of my presence, but it only looked at me a couple of times. It was the largest bird I’ve ever been near in the ‘wild.’ It was a wonderful experience.
I listened to the Kate Bush album—I’m sorry to report I didn’t like it. But please don’t let that discourage you from making recommendations—after all, I loved The Lark Ascending, the short movie made entirely of wool, and Bregman’s book. I do have one Kate Bush song in my music collection: This Woman’s Work.
I found a short film—in Italian with English subtitles thankfully—that I’ve watched about 20 times. It’s ridiculously short at 8 mins. It’s called Buono Notte. It’s about a guy about to lose his virginity(to a guy). It’s sweet and thoughtful and makes me wish I had talent to create!
And, as a fun aside: some years ago I saw a movie called Giant Little Ones, which is one of the best films I’ve seen in the past 5 years. So, I watched it only once—until a couple of nights ago. It was available, but at a ridiculous cost. So I got a crazy idea—because it’s gay themed, maybe someone bootlegged it to an adult site? Sure enough! Anyway, it made me laugh, finding it for free, but on an adult site…Plus, the movie is amazing.
And I’ve just started reading the 4th book on the events in 1877…
Okay—since Twilight: TSW has been relegated to the shelf(at least until you’re rich and famous and people will want even cocktail napkins you’ve scribbled on), you have to tell me which character I would love(platonically)…
One of the things I REALLY hate is when people are condescending or they tell me something I obviously know or understand.
As such, I apologize for what I wrote about the writing you’re doing being hard work. I can assure you I did not intend condescension; I merely wanted to convey that you should go easy on yourself when it gets tough. So, please strike what I wrote above and replace it with this:
“One lesson learned recently, no less profound than the subject of the books themselves, is the construction thereof. To imagine the effort involved is nearly incomprehensible when it’s realized that these volumes begin from scraps of yellowing paper, buried in boxes hidden away in distant museum closets that few ever enter. My appreciation for this knows no bounds.”
I wanted to relate this, as we’ve spoken a bit about humanity recently.
This week I did some inquiring of one of the authors I read recently and a historian/professor who I watched give an interesting talk on John Steinbeck last weekend. I heard back from the historian the following day.
I had commended him on his Steinbeck presentation and, since his field of expertise and authorship included a topic of which I’ve wanted more knowledge, asked if he’d recommend one of his books or another which broadly covers the topic. He returned a wonderful reply, which included steering me away from his own work by instead recommending the work of three others. It was, in effect, a perfect response. And I appreciated it even more when I found out that he’s also the dean of his university, one of the biggest in the US. That he would take the time for a stranger was gratifying.
So, indeed I do have good experiences from time to time. I’m going to savor this one for a while.
Phineas, I'm very sorry. The writing school started about a month ago. For the most part, I've actually really enjoyed it (which is odd; for the first time in my life I'm enjoying school) but they're forcing me to write all kinds of things. Which has caused some unsurprising time management problems... Fortunately, these problems are not permanent, since the school will go on a three-month break in December.
In any case, I have many thoughts and a lot to say. I'll write a response to everything you said in the near future.
Okay, I think it's the "near future" now... I'll start writing my response now, it'll appear here soon. I hope you're still there, Phineas. And safe and well!
This autumn was intense. It’s been a strange experience, letting all these Real Writers read parts of the book, while the book is still work in progress. With the Twilight Book, I tried to make the whole thing as perfect as possible, I tried to solve every problem, before I felt ready to let anyone else see it. Now I’ve been forced to do things very differently. This new way of doing things actually feels better.
There was this one teacher, a wise and well-respected literary guy, who thought that my vision for the book was totally nonsensical. He just really didn’t get why anyone would want to write a book like this. I actually think it was a problem of communication more than anything else… but still, out of all the conversations I had with teachers, that was probably the most helpful one. Surprisingly, the fact that he thought I was crazy just gave me this confident, humorously excited feeling of “Oh yes, I’m crazy. I’ll show you what craziness looks like!”
It turns out that identifying as slightly crazy really helps creativity… whereas trying to be as sane as possible really doesn’t help. This doesn’t mean that analytical thinking isn’t valuable and necessary, it’s just that the beating heart of art is, and has to be, something other than tidy rationality. It’s about trusting and following some deeper place, something that’s hurting and burning…. and recklessly and childishly hopeful.
Now the writing school is on a break for three months, and the whole autumn already seems like a weird dream. Everything is quiet again. That actually feels nice. As stimulating as it was to learn about other people’s perspectives on literature, it was also a bit too noisy and hectic. There were lots of ideas in my head, and I kept having all kinds of realizations about writing, but somehow, with all that interaction and the pressure of the deadlines on me, it was challenging to really put anything into practice. I kept writing and writing the first 80 or so pages of the book over and over. I worked hard on maybe six different “first chapters”, but I just ended up tossing everything out in the end.
A few days after the semester ended, something finally happened. I’d experienced those “This is how the book needs to begin” epiphanies many times before, but this time, when I sat down and started writing, there was something about the sentences that immediately felt right. It was almost a physical knowing, this warm energy in my lungs.
For a couple of weeks now, I’ve been writing sentences that feel right. I feel like I’ve entered some stream, and I know it’s going to throw me out eventually, so before that happens, I’ll just make the best of it. There’s still a lot of important stuff I haven’t figured out, but finally, there’s this sense of making progress, like I know what I need to do now, and what the next steps are, and oh man… It’s the best thing in the world.
It was fascinating to read about your creative process. How you find it worthwhile, even though it isn’t really giving you those “juicy” things I talked about. Somehow, I think I understand what you mean. I also get what you said about writing in general, and I agree, writing is hard work. Still, that “having fun” aspect is really important to me. I’ll try to explain what I mean by it.
A central fact about my life is that I’m naturally “intense”, which is a more romantic word for “tense”. I’m not totally incapable of relaxing, but for the most part, my existence in this world is not defined by peace and relaxation. Somehow, there’s this overabundance of energy and mental activity in me, but whether that’s a negative thing or a positive thing really depends on one thing: joy. The presence or absence of it.
When joy is absent, I become incapacitated. This is not an exaggeration. For example, I can spend hours or days, or even months or years, trying to write a sentence and every word just feels forced and wrong, like there’s this deep disconnection between language and what I really mean. The words just don’t work, they have nothing to do with anything that I really care about. Somehow, it’s hard to even remember what it is that I care about – all the good things are shrouded in fog. When joy is absent, there’s energy in me, but I can’t say I “have” energy, because I can’t use it in a meaningful way, it’s just this cloud of agitation and anxiety. And anxiety seems to be inherently constricting: like its main function is to hide things from you, extinguish all love and zeal and connection. When I’m writing without joy, all the energy I’m putting into it just takes me further and further away from what I’m looking for.
This problem is really significant in my social life as well. All the things that I’ve said about relationships being difficult for me – what I’m really talking about is this joy thing. Without joy, all the energy and mental activity in my head manifests as a kind of wall of uneasiness between me and the world. It’s a bubble of neurotic discomfort. Other people’s company just feels like a minefield of potential ways to fuck things up, and I’m just trying to avoid those missteps. Sometimes, with all that effort, I may be able to say the right things and “please” the other person, but the price I pay for that is that I don’t genuinely enjoy the interaction, and obviously, the person I’m spending time with doesn’t really get to meet me, because the version of me they’re seeing is so heavily edited by this free-floating uneasiness.
And then something happens, and joy appears… It may be just a very subtle change in the emotional tone in the heart. And yet, it changes everything. Everything. Joy is like a magic ingredient that permeates that stream of uncomfortable energy and turns it into something I can use. Suddenly, the energy turns into creativity and aliveness. Suddenly, I know what I’m doing and why I’m doing it, and the right words and associations just come to me, so effortlessly. The overabundance of energy stops being a life-ruining problem and becomes a friend and an ally. When this happens, some of the stuff I do and say and write may be really silly, but it’s OK, the “silly” things are often the best things I do.
Socially, I’m probably confusing for this reason. Often, when I meet somebody for the first time, the “newness” of the situation makes it easier for joy to appear, and I can be very lively. “Intense” in a good way. Then I meet the person for a second time, and suddenly I’ve become a solemn, frozen, hidden idiot, because I feel like the other person’s expecting things from me, and the pressure of that just makes it difficult to enjoy the situation. I noticed this again when I was getting to know the other students at the writing school. I hope I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings by being such a weirdo. I actually do find humans fascinating, and I do want to befriend them sometimes.
I want to learn to get over myself. I want to fix whatever it is that’s making me experience joylessness so often.
Obviously, when one is writing a book, it means having to tolerate quite a lot of frustration and tediousness. It’s not easy, and it’s definitely not glamorous all the time. Besides, anxiety and frustration aren’t all bad, they have their role in the creative process; it’s good to be lost some of the time, and dissatisfaction refines ideas and makes one try again… But there are glamorous moments, too, and those moments are usually the moments when things really move forward. When writing is fun, it is more fun than anything else I’ve experienced in this life. I don’t know if there’s something unhealthy about that, but I guess it’s natural considering the fact that this is my “calling”... When I’m writing and finally manage to get my heart and my head to cooperate, I’m where I’m supposed to be – the whole world just seems warm and alive and exciting, like God has finally forgiven me.
When I was writing the Twilight Spaghetti Western, there were many things I did wrong. All these beliefs and assumptions and ways of doing things that were quite suffocating joy-wise. I think that was really the problem that made the writing so slow and ultimately killed the book. I’m really trying to learn from those mistakes and do things differently this time. Joy is always going to be something that comes and goes, I know that it can’t be here all the time. Still, in a way, I feel like learning to cultivate joy is the big existential “meta-challenge” of my life… It’s the challenge that determines the outcome of all the other challenges.
So, Phineas… How are you doing? And how’s your writing project doing?
Tell me everything.
It made me really happy to read about your good experiences with humanity. Hopefully you’ve had more of them since you wrote your letter. The walks you described sound ideal. I’ve been lucky enough to see hawks up close, too, sometimes even in the backyard of my parents’ house. They’re very impressive creatures. Like the winged equivalent of sharks. (Obviously, I’m talking about hawks here, not my parents. My parents aren’t shark-like.)
Also, thanks for directing me to John Steinbeck’s speech. It is inspiring.
What bugs me is the impossibility of ever knowing what Oscar Wilde’s voice sounded like. What’s for sure is that his voice would come as a surprise. There’s always something disorienting about hearing writers speak.
Personally, I love Aerial by Kate Bush. It’s just existentially right somehow – that crazy celebration of every moment in a day… As a piece of music, it’s also extremely inventive. But it doesn’t shock me to hear it isn’t your cup of tea. Morrissey, who was my idol when I was 16, once said, “The nicest thing I could say about Kate Bush is that she’s unbearable.” In a weird way, I actually get it. If you want to, do tell me what made you not like Aerial!
Lately I’ve been listening to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBRJeD2Y1nY It’s Bertie; Kate Bush’s Renaissance-style ode to her son, Bertie.
I watched Buona Notte, the short film you mentioned. I loved it. It’s very sweet and somehow ethereal at the same time. I also really appreciated the way the protagonist’s upper body was nervously twitching at around 2:35, because that exact thing is something I’ve experienced so often that I’ve begun to wonder whether I have some weird form of Tourette’s syndrome. It’s nice to see I’m not the only one. I’ll probably check out that other film you talked about, too, Giant Little Ones.
I wish I could give a good answer with regard to which character in Twilight: The Spaghetti Western you’d love. The problem is that presently, my own relationship to the book and the people in it is so complex. They’re people I’ve broken up with and the biggest feeling is just relief, combined with a psychological need to focus on their bad sides. But I think you’d probably have liked the protagonist’s eccentric, depressed poet friend whose way of processing the world was unusual and only slightly creepy… To be honest, in a way, I still love those people. I will always remember the years I spent with them. And yet, for the time being, it just feels good to forget about them.
Once again, I apologize for disappearing. I really enjoyed reading the things you wrote. They made me think and they made me feel good. (The same is true for your latest string of comments in the other blog, by the way. Back in May, I spent a couple of hours just sitting on the balcony and reading them slowly.) I’m really thankful for your friendship. The only reason why it sometimes takes me years to come back here is the fact that I can’t, or at least really don’t want to, respond in a half-assed way.
Years ago there was a screenwriter named William Goldman who wrote a book about his experiences in the trade. One of the things I’ve never forgotten was his attempt to answer the question: how do we know what will work? He said the secret to Hollywood was that “…nobody knows anything…”
That really is where it’s at when it comes to creativity—there’s no magical formula. I was thinking of that when I read about the fellow who thought Twilight was nonsensical. He might be right. Or he may be like the dozens of editors who laughed at Rowling’s first sample chapters…
Mr. Brander—don’t let my first response last night fool you. I’m elated that you’ve returned to write something here. It’s been strange because I knew you were at writing camp, but I felt as though you were still around, that your last response was a couple of days rather than months. It didn’t seem long—and it seemed like an eternity because I thought it was the most isolated you’ve been since I’ve known you, as though you were on a remote island(figuratively speaking, you were on an island).
It helped that I started a job that keeps me very busy. Otherwise I think I would have felt imprisoned, being unable to read anything you wrote.
It’s funny, usually less is more in terms of me wanting to be around people, communicate with them, etc. Jesus, even my intimate relationships have been like that. (“That was great, now I want some alone time.”) But when it comes to you, I can’t get enough of what you have to say. Probably because you’ve written thousands of words and I’ve never been pissed off reading them.
I know I can’t have it all: your thoughtfulness and your proliferation. In your case they are mutually exclusive. I hate it but would hate it more if you were a loquacious asshole.
I miss you when you’re gone, but understand it’s got to be.
I will tell you everything over the next few days.
Two summers ago I reconnected with a fellow who is the son of my Mother’s best friend. He’s about your age and I hadn’t seen him in over a decade. He and his sister came by to see my Mother. We talked for several hours that afternoon—I was fascinated about his job in a shipyard. He was the most impressive person I’d met in person since 2012.
Since I hadn’t seen him in such a long time, I told my Mom to invite them for dinner a couple of months ago. He called to cancel because he was ill. I told her we would reschedule.
About a week after I started working, he was driving his motorcycle like a madman was killed after hitting another vehicle.
The writing project never really got off the ground. Just as I got ready to dedicate my soul to it, I started working. My job requires my brain the entire time I’m there—and often when I’m not. That makes it harder — though not impossible— to take on something so ambitious.
I’ve not abandoned it — it simply has to be done before I die. But I probably won’t finish it before next spring. I still think about it, and note good ideas when I get them. I’ve got enough to almost finish the first part. One thing I realized about two months ago is that it’s going to be more difficult than I thought, for one reason: I have to put words into historical figures’ mouths. That is not an easy task. I have to be true to who they are while preserving historic accuracy — AND tell the story to the effect I want it told. I’ve always thought I could write dialog, but I’m less sure now, given the parameters I’m setting for it. It’s going to be the biggest challenge. On the other hand, I’ve been able to “picture” parts of it — that is encouraging, and vital. One other point—I’ve discovered that because it’s something with a long ago setting, it’s necessary to put myself in that historic framework. That means considering the manner in which people spoke, and the confines of the time—I won’t be able to make reference to anything occurring after the late 19th Century. No television, no Twinkies, no world wars…
I’m really looking forward to it. I just need some blocks of time…
Olli, I can’t tell you why I wasn’t taken by Ariel. Kate Bush seems like the kind of person I’d like to know. But of all art forms, music is the most hit & miss. There’s almost no valid reason to like or dislike any of it. It’s just personal taste. I always laugh when I hear people argue about what’s good or what’s not. Maybe that’s why we like music—it’s personal to us in some inexplicable way. Even though Bush’s album wasn’t my thing, I’m always interested in knowing what moves you.
I’m glad you liked Buono Notte. Not because I liked it, but because I didn’t entirely waste your time by the recommendation. I thought it had a certain level of “sweetness” to it that didn’t seem forced. The fellow talking to his mother before his big night was adorable. And his “teacher” was gentle in a way I really liked. I’m still marveling that it was 8 minutes.
Thank you for indulging my Twilight question. For some reason it was important to me. I’m always looking for people to love, and since I find few actual people that trigger such a feeling, I often settle for the fictional variety.
Merry Christmas. I hope Santa made his way to you in a fulfilling fashion.
I’m happy you enjoyed Steinbeck’s Nobel speech. I found a biography of him online and I fall asleep to it every night—for the past couple months. I like the life he lived in a lot of ways, and am really enamored of his friendship with Ed Ricketts. It blows me away the love he had for his friend, and how most of his ‘friends’ abandoned him after he wrote critically of big business—except Ed Ricketts. It reminded me in some ways of Tennyson’s friendship with Hallam, which just might epitomize the term.
I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what you wrote recently about joy and what it does for your “process.” It makes a lot of sense that joy would inspire or encourage you in some fundamental way. That might play right into your default mode of intensity— maybe you’re even more intense when you’re happy.
I LOVED your explanation of intense being a softer word for tense. I have pictured that practically since we first began conversing. It’s easy to envision you having difficulty putting your mind at ease and relaxing. Somehow, I think that even your best efforts of escaping are no match for your mind’s on switch. I think we have had that in common. ‘Had’ because I am actually capable of total relaxation at times now. But I’m all too aware that it was hardly the case in years past — my brain was never off. I actually blame being single in many ways. It’s got to be a comfort for couples where one knows the other is looking out for them in a way that enables some genuine relaxation.
As for the joy to be found in relationships, I found your take on the whole thing fascinating. Have you ever let down your guard enough where a total stranger got to experience the authentic you—the you that you would desire to be if there were no judgments or expectation involved?
I was also thinking about your comment on the guy’s twitching in Buono Notte, and your similar experiences. I can relate, at least on one occasion in particular. I was shaking so visibly, he commented on it…
Congratulations on the new job! Do you find it enjoyable?
Although it’s a shame you can’t proceed with the writing project now. The things you’ve said about it are intriguing. Somehow, I assumed you were writing a nonfiction article, but now I’m starting to think it’s clearly something else. It’s also funny because I’m going to be putting words into historical figures’ mouths, too. (Fortunately, they are going to be ghost/zombie/dream versions of themselves, so it’s OK if they are a bit surreal.)
What you wrote about the guy who worked in a shipyard is saddening. I was genuinely sorry to read that. What were the things that made him impressive in your eyes?
I’m going to answer some questions you asked a long while ago:
“Do you currently have a favorite television show?”
I’m currently (and normally) quite ignorant when it comes to television shows. The last television show I watched was “Leonardo”, a fictional drama whose protagonist was supposedly Leonardo da Vinci. The actor’s – or director’s – idea of Leonardo was “a sexy guy suffering from constant guilt and anxiety”. All in all, it wasn’t very good. But I do love Leonardo da Vinci… He used to buy caged birds just to set them free.
“Is “Olli” your actual name or a pseudonym, and if it is your name, is it pronounced “o-lee” or “aw-lee”? Also, is it shortened or in full-form?”
It’s my actual name and in full-form. I think “aw-lee” is closer to the “correct” way to pronounce it. Here’s the Correct Official Way: https://translate.google.fi/?hl=fi&sl=fi&tl=en&text=Olli&op=translate Although, I don’t really care whether it’s pronounced correctly or not!
“Do you plan to be vaccinated against SARS-cov-2(assuming you haven’t been already)?”
I’ve already received two vaccinations, and in a couple of days, I’m going to receive the third one.
“Have you ever written any short works of fiction? Other than length, what would you say is the biggest difference between short and novel-length forms?”
I’ve written some short stuff for the writing school. They’ve been assignments that one is supposed to finish quickly (in 45 minutes or so). I’ve surprised myself by enjoying it. Somehow, when there’s no time for perfectionism, writing is easy and fun.
I think that I’m usually at my best when I’m just writing freely and spontaneously, without trying to do something totally extraordinary. The ambitiousness of the books I write is a big problem in this sense.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. Could I relax a little bit? Could I also have a normal life…? In some deep, irrational way, I seem to think that I’m Harry Potter and that the future of the world depends on me. It’s very unhealthy, but it’s a strange belief that has dominated my life ever since I was 16. I care about the world, and I have a lot to say, but in order to say things as well as I can, I really should learn to relax, at least some of the time. And that won’t happen unless I stop taking myself so seriously.
I think it would be a long conversation characterized by a real connection. A deep sense that meeting and getting to know each other is an adventure and a miracle, a gift from God, something that both of us have been looking for all our lives without even realizing it.
Everything else – location, activities – is almost unimportant. I’d love to meet somebody for the first time and experience something like that, instead of the usual unhappy uptightness.
”Have you ever let down your guard enough where a total stranger got to experience the authentic you—the you that you would desire to be if there were no judgments or expectation involved?”
Yes, I think, for short moments… But that’s rare. Sometimes when I’m drunk, I can be quite “relaxed”, but that’s the Drunk Me, who can also be sort of bullshitty. I’d really love to change this. I’d love to stop isolating myself by being so hidden. At the end of the day, I think the only thing standing in the way of that experience of a real connection is some strange constellation of harmful fears or assumptions or delusions in my head.
“Have you ever contemplated getting a tattoo or piercing?”
After the meditation retreat in 2017, I thought about getting a tattoo that would say “Just show up”. That was the teacher’s advice for situations when motivation for meditation is low: just show up and meditate, you don’t have to be in some particularly inspired state of mind to do it. I found that really useful, for life in general.
“Do you have any daily “rituals” (ex. having afternoon tea)?”
No. But I probably should. My life is fairly chaotic.
“If it applies, do you spend any quality time with any grandparent?”
All my grandparents are dead. Both of my grandfathers died before I was born, and my grandmothers died when I was too young to really get to know them. Both sides of my family tend to procreate at a relatively old age, so the age gaps between generations are quite long. One of my grandfathers was born in 1903. My great-grandparents were born in the 19th century. It’s a bit strange.
“Pick one from each of the two lists of seven adjectives below and tell me—if you are able—how it relates to you:
frustrated haunted guilty sorry sad unsure _desperate_
I’m definitely feeling sort of desperate at the moment, because I have too much to say and the book I’m writing is becoming too heavy because of that. But I’m also determined to solve this. I’m starting to think I’m actually writing several books at the same time; I just need to figure out which one of them I’m supposed to write now. And then focus on that.
“Hypothetically: if I asked you to send me something that belongs to you to which you attach some significance, but nonetheless would be willing to part with, what would it be?”
Hmm. Now that I think about it, I realize that I actually don’t care about most of the (material) things I own. But there’s a stuffed animal, this raccoon I used to carry around with me wherever I went when I was 3 years old. He’s sitting on my bookshelf, and he is significant, so I’d probably send him to you.
That’s the secret blog I’ve been writing since 2015. I finally decided to make it public. It’s taken a surprising amount of work, and I haven’t slept a lot, and now I’m feeling pretty exhausted. Tomorrow, I’m probably going to say something about this on the Finnish blog, but I wanted you to be the first one to see it.
Here’s what I would like you to do: pick a post on that new blog and write a comment. Let’s continue this conversation there. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with these old blogs, but I want to start a new era.
Good evening. I am thrilled tonight for the opportunity to talk with writer Olli Brander, author of this blog and aspiring novelist, in a real-time discussion focused on his past, present, and future as a writer. Stay tuned, as we will cover anything and everything pertaining to the technical and artistic aspects of his craft, and his pursuit of literary fulfillment.
VastaaPoistaI thank Mr. Brander for generously agreeing to be interviewed, particularly in a venue of his own creation. With that, we’ll begin...
Good evening Mr. Brander and greetings from the West Coast of the United States.
Some years ago, you left blogging behind to write your first novel. Why don’t you take up the story from the point you made that declaration—explain the process of writing your book from the point you stopped blogging to the present status of that project.
Well, for whatever reason it doesn’t look like this is going to work.
VastaaPoistaIf you have responded, I don’t see it. I did see your comment at 17:59, which is now gone. The only thing I do see is my comment at 18:02.
But thank you for trying. Perhaps one day we can get it to work.
Thanks again.
There is/was something wrong with my email or Blogger or both, because until this moment – 18:35 – I was unable to see your first question! For some reason, I had to delete my "Phineas, are you there?" comment before your comment became visible.
VastaaPoistaOkay, but I'm here now! (I'm still ready to do this today, but we can also try again later. Either way is fine!)
So, here's the answer to your first question:
This is a really challenging question, but I’ll try to answer it. First of all, the project was much more difficult than I realized in 2014 when I started writing the book. Already in the beginning, I understood that the project was quite ambitious and that I would have to "mature" in some ways before I could properly finish it. I wanted the psychological pain and confusion of the protagonist to decrease believably and authentically; I wanted to get to a point where I could communicate “wisdom” in a non-superficial way.
What I didn’t know was how complex the process of “maturing” would be. What actually happened is that I kept finding new ideas and ideals, and experiencing new joys and sufferings, that changed my thinking and worldview again and again… I tried to incorporate all these new insights and experiences into the book, but in the end, I had to admit that my ideas about the world, and about how and what I actually want to write, had become too different from what they were in 2014 – the story and structure of this book just couldn’t “carry” them anymore… which eventually led to a dramatic realization that it would actually be incredibly liberating to just let the book go. This happened one night about 3.5 months ago… I haven’t really talked about it to many people yet. When I realized that I could just start writing a different book – a book I’ve been wanting to write for many years now – my existence instantly became lighter and more rewarding. I haven’t _totally_ abandoned the old book – I’m still waiting for three readers’ opinions on it – but at the moment, I’m not actively working on it anymore and it gives me a great sense of relief. I can just stop wrestling with that impossible, exhausting project that no longer really reflects the reality of my life and thinking, and start writing this new story – start talking about things that I’m actually deeply passionate about here and now. So that’s what I’ve been doing for some weeks now. And it just feels right. Writing feels like an adventure again.
I have a feeling like this didn’t fully answer your question… but it’s the best I could do at this point.
(Actually, it seems that the biggest "open question" is whether it'll take me 40 minutes to answer each question... But it's a good thing to challenge oneself every once in a while, so I think we should try and see how this goes!)
VastaaPoistaOlli, it was taking about 35-45 minutes after the time stamp to see what you wrote—which means I didn’t see your response until nearly two hours after we began—so apparently it was happening on both sides. It’s odd because your first short post at 17:59 I saw right at 18:00–a mere minute later. So maybe it was just glitchy today. In any event, it was simply untenable. Listen, I wouldn’t exactly have minded a ten hour interview with you, but I utterly hate inconveniencing people, and I certainly wasn’t going to waste your time, not knowing your schedule for today.
VastaaPoistaSorry for the hassle on all this. I would certainly like to try again. Today was really perfect, as there’s a lot of residential construction in the area, which is prohibited on Sundays. So it was beautifully quiet and I was really primed for this.
And I thought your answer was perfect. It is EXACTLY what I was hoping the interview should be—revealing, insightful, 100% you. That’s the beauty of asking you a question—you get to answer in any way you see fit. No preconditions. No rehearsal. Just you taking the ball and running with it. Questions are fully answered by default.
So I really do want to do this. Perhaps we can try next Sunday, and maybe it would be a good idea to do a dry run sometime this week, so we fully experience blogger’s limitations.
Whatever fits your schedule, because at the moment I pretty much have none.
Thank you again for stomaching all this.
Next Sunday sounds good! Of course, if it turns out that it takes me an hour to answer anything, we can always "spread out" the interview and do it in parts. How many questions are there, approximately?
PoistaAlso, I may have figured out ONE possible cause for the problems we were having. I noticed that when I post a comment here, the "https://brande-r.blogspot.com/2021/06/the-interview.html" becomes "https://brande-r.blogspot.com/2021/06/the-interview.html?showComment=[some numbers]". When I try to refresh the page after that, the view is sort of frozen in time... It doesn't necessarily change even if somebody has already posted a new comment. This may only happen to me, and I don't know if it's the full explanation for whatever was going on two days ago, but removing the "?showComment=" part and then refreshing the page seems to help!
Good information to have. Perhaps closing the page and clearing caches between exchanges is the answer.
PoistaI’m glad to know you weren’t totally turned off by the experience. I admit I was a little exasperated—but it’s easy to be using technology that doesn’t work very well.
Just so you know, I have no set number of questions. While I do have two or three specific topics I want to cover, all subsequent questions are derived from your responses. It’s unscripted; if it were, it wouldn’t really be conversational.
Technical issues aside, I wasn’t anticipating any question would take an hour to answer. Did it really take 40 minutes to answer my first question? If so, was it an issue with the question itself—was it too broad, too complex, etc.? Or is it more to do with answering “properly”, or something else? I can certainly make the questions laser-focused, thereby lending themselves to very short responses. Also, I know you are a very thoughtful individual—I can appreciate that you might want to ponder all possible answers and pick the best one, etc., but is it possible for you to imagine the responses as though we were sitting across from each other over a beer? (Or are there circumstances when you might not speak for forty minutes when you’re with someone in person?)
I do not mean to be making this unnecessarily complicated. Above all else, I want this to be something you’re completely comfortable with. I want it to feel more like you’re getting a massage, and less a colonoscopy. So any guidance might be helpful.
And so you have an idea of what to expect, I’m going to give you the next question (but please don’t answer it here), which jumped into my head immediately upon your response:
That certainly was ambitious to start a project that would require you to develop answers(“mature”) along the way. You mentioned that you tried to weave that maturation into the story, but that it that proved to be untenable. Was any of the ‘wisdom’ you were striving for salvageable, or did most of that collapse along the way?
As you know, I'm a really slow writer (and reader, and dishwasher, and walk-taker...) It's sort of ridiculous. As Oscar once said, "I spent all morning putting in a comma and all afternoon taking it out."
PoistaWhen it comes to answering questions, it gets particularly bad… Even if I have some vague, intuitive sense of what the answer might be, putting it into words takes a while. (Especially if the question is broad and open-ended.) The answer is basically a “story” that has to be created – by thinking hard, finding the relevant dots and connecting them in some aesthetically OK way. For me, 75% of the writing process is usually just sitting and looking confused and waiting for thoughts to take shape.
If we were having this conversation in a bar, this probably wouldn’t be a problem. Spoken communication is so fast and messy that there’s just no room for perfectionism. I just articulate my “vague, intuitive sense” in some clumsy, simple way – I have less control over whether it’s understandable or not. If it’s not understandable, you’ll immediately let me know, and then I’ll utter another clumsy, simple sentence, and maybe that one makes more sense to you.
I think that your questions are really good, and I sincerely appreciate all of this. I wish I knew how to make all this more massage-like… I do believe that it would be really good if I learned to write in Beer Mode more often. I actually think that my tendency to try and do EVERYTHING “properly” is holding me back in some ways… It’s simply exhausting. I mean, quality is important, but quantity isn’t unimportant either. Ideally, I’d strive for “excellence” with some things and be more spontaneous with other areas of my existence, like my social life for example. Maybe we could try to treat this interview as if it were a conversation we were having in a bar – it would give me an opportunity to practice writing in Beer Mode. (And of course I also need to learn to give interviews, that’s pretty valuable too.) And if the whole thing turns out to be impossible for some reason, perhaps one day we’ll actually meet each other over a beer and get to do a live version of this.
"...be more spontaneous with other areas of my existence, like my social life* for example"
Poista*particularly refers to my social life "in writing"
“Maybe we could try to treat this interview as if it were a conversation we were having in a bar...”
VastaaPoistaYes. Yes, please.
I actually didn’t know(about you being a slow writer and reader and dishwasher and walker...and when you’re making out?). But that just adds to the reasons I love knowing you. You’re not like everyone else. You know I’m firmly in the “properly” camp. I’d never encourage you to do things otherwise. If I got a vote, you’d never do anything otherwise. I’ll take quality over quantity any day. You’re a thoughtful and careful person, qualities I’ve come to admire.
But I don’t think making the interview more colloquial would mean “improper.” I actually think it would be proper for the occasion, if that makes sense. If you’re willing to give it a try, I’ll sharpen the questions so that they lend to narrower answers. And I’d retain the wherewithal to ask you to clarify if I were in doubt as to your meaning.
Do you prefer to write at a certain time of day? <—is that a direct enough question?
or
Have you ever considered writing for the stage?
or
Can you name a couple of writers who have influenced your writing style?
Seems to me those might lend to answers that are two or three sentences. But you can let me know.
My purpose is simply to find out as much as I can about you’re writing. I’d love to plug a device into you and extract all the answers to every question, but they’ve not developed that app yet. Short of that, I would love a hyper-philosophical interview, but I’m not trying to add stress to your life. If anything, I’d like to lighten the scale.
And, if it doesn’t meet your standards in the end—it’s your blog. You could simply delete it, and go walking...slowly...
ps—I wasn’t familiar with the Wilde quote
Poistapps—I forgot to mention, in response to you revealing that you do most things slowly, that one of the things I often lament is how I’m not as “quick on my feet” as I’d like to be. I often think of the “right” thing hours, days, or months after I really needed it! Just an aside I thought worth mentioning.
Those questions are perfect. Maybe you can ask them again during the interview – I’m relatively sure it won’t take me 40 minutes to answer them. (But I can’t promise anything. We’ll see!)
PoistaYes, I’m horribly slow. It’s a real problem. I literally have to devote entire days to things that other people seem to take care of in an hour or two. I actually think that this is negatively affecting my functionality as a person... I really need to develop other, more casual modes of doing things; normal everyday life shouldn’t be so arduous and exhausting. But you're definitely right that "properly" means different things in different contexts – it’s possible to be “casual” and “proper” simultaneously, so that’s what I’d like to learn to do. I _have_ to learn to do that.
I can relate to that tendency to think of the right thing to do or say when it’s already too late. Although, for me, it often has to do with becoming older and less idiotic, and suddenly understanding how someone else must have felt in some situation months or years ago.
I’m afraid my making out skills fall into the “clumsy and simple” category.
I can see where you’d desire alacrity in some respects. Sometimes life demands it.
VastaaPoistaYou’re lucky, I think: for me not knowing what to say until later is just about not being that intelligent. And incidentally, it’s not in terms of being socially graceful—ironically that comes fairly easy—but rather in the course of discussion, presenting an argument, etc.
Clumsy and simple indeed. Fortunately, there’s no right way; more importantly, there’s no wrong way.
"in terms of being socially graceful—ironically that comes fairly easy"
PoistaI can believe that. That's actually a good word for describing you: graceful.
By the way, last night I had a dream in which I was reading a long and captivating essay you'd written about your family. In the essay, you explained that your family was weirdly "royal", or at least unusually posh and mafia-like. You had lots of male cousins, and you and your cousins where in competition as to who would inherit the family's great wealth and power. Recently, everyone's favourite cousin had died and you had become the one to inherit the "throne". Also, your entire extended family had a habit of gathering together in front of the TV and eating microwave meals.
I have no idea why my sleeping brain decided to come up with something like that, but I just thought you should know.
Wow! How did you know? Kidding of course. But if you were dreaming about something I’d written, you must have reached the area of your brain with the sign flashing ***Good writer’s currently unavailable*** Sounds like the makings of a series: Phineas and His Cousins: Race to the Throne.
PoistaWell, there certainly is a throne, just not the kind you generally want to race to. And I’m afraid my recliner from Norway and my Kennedy bust are about as posh as it gets for me. But it’s certainly nice to be featured in a dream. From the brain of Olli. Thank you for sharing.
Yeah, hard to fathom: a graceful misanthrope. Go figure...
But thank you.
Okay, I just realized we never formalized Sunday (i.e. now) to resume our interview...but perhaps you are there?
VastaaPoistaI'm here!
PoistaOkay, excellent!
VastaaPoistaSo...
When it comes to the actual task of writing—as opposed to planning, preparation, etc.—is there a particular time of day you prefer to write?
For many years, I used to be incapable of writing in the daytime... I had to wait for the rest of the world to fall asleep before I could enter the shame-free mindset that writing requires.
PoistaHowever, in the past 3 or 4 years, this has changed somehow. Nowadays I often like to start writing right after I've woken up in the morning (or in the afternoon); when the world feels new and the mind feels light. I can't really explain this change.
This was surprisingly easy!
That is fascinating. For some reason, I would have thought you exclusively a “night writer.” Writing right after you wake seems ambitious!
VastaaPoistaMichael Crichton of Jurassic Park fame, said that he used to eat the same thing for lunch every day while writing a novel, to make it seem like there was no break in writing. Do you have any such “habits” or rituals when you’re writing?
No, except the habit of constantly drinking something when I'm writing. I drink insane amounts of tea and mineral water. Quite often I also listen to music by a 1990’s band named Catherine Wheel - there's something mystical and electrifyingly beautiful about it, so it helps me to enter whatever it is I’m trying to enter.
PoistaWe’ll have to talk about your choice of teas someday!
VastaaPoistaYou mentioned recently that you had hundreds of pages of notes and ideas for the book you’re currently writing. Was that also the case for the book you just finished? Do you do virtually all the planning ahead of the actual writing, or do you plan as you write as well?
The planning is going on pretty much 24/7. Some of the ideas are immediately useful, most aren't, so then I just write them down and possibly figure out where they belong weeks or even years later... I had a vague collection of "images" and ideas before I started writing the Previous Book, but in the past 5 years, the amount of notes has simply exploded... The Microsoft Word file where I've been storing my ideas since about 2016 is currently 752 pages long, which is sort of crazy.
PoistaYeah, that almost seems unmanageable in some ways; but if it’s useful to you, that’s all that really matters.
VastaaPoistaSpeaking of the New Book, you’ve said that “it’s the book I was born to write.” Is it a work of fiction also, and just to understand—you’re file of ideas is a collection of notes for all future projects?
*should have been “your file of ideas...” of course
PoistaHmm... I'd say that the New Book is (or tries to be) a magical supernatural autofictional philosophical adventure. It's a book about my life, but it's also totally Harry Potter.
PoistaYeah, I think the notes are for all future projects, although I wrote most of them down thinking they'd be used in this book. But since using all of them is clearly impossible, they'll probably (or possibly) find their way into some other book in the future.
Sounds really interesting. I mean...really...interesting.
VastaaPoistaSo when you actually sit down and write, what is the typical duration of a session in front of the keyboard? I would image with all the tea and mineral water there have to be some bathroom breaks...
Yes, it's fucking interesting!!!! At least writing it is. I really don't understand why everyone doesn't do this and try writing this way.
PoistaThere are lots of bathroom breaks. They're actually very helpful, because they allow me to walk and stand for a moment, which has the strange effect of invigorating the brain and helping it solve problems.
Generally, it's really hard to estimate for how many hours I write on an average day. Sometimes it takes most of the day, but all the little breaks blur the picture.
(When it comes to the duration of uninterrupted sessions, it's hard to say. I guess it really varies. Something between 30-90 minutes, maybe.)
PoistaYeah, I can see where movement helps the whole process. A little stretch now and then is probably appreciated by the body.
VastaaPoistaWell, Olli, we’ll actually have to leave it right there and pick it up again in the near future. I actually have an appointment this morning in about 45 minutes which is somewhat vital...I may elaborate later.
But thank you and I’m glad it went well!
I’ll write you later...
Thank you!! I actually really enjoyed this. This was very massage-like. I'm ready to do this again whenever you feel like it.
PoistaI hope the appointment isn't serious in a scary way... In any case, I wish you good luck with it!
Sorry I had to leave rather abruptly. It was actually not life-threatening. Just something rather important in the carnage that has become my life. Thank you for the good wishes.
PoistaI’m elated that the interview seemed to go well. I really enjoyed it and learned a great deal; of course I knew I would. I am looking forward to more. Thank you for availing yourself.
Awesome to know that your life (or anyone else's life) is not in danger. (Whatever it is/was, I hope it isn't causing much suffering.) I actually sincerely thought I had cancer about two months ago, but it turned out that the mysterious bruises were simply caused by the heavy bike I ride when I deliver mail.
PoistaThere were some things I wanted to ask regarding this:
"...all of this is on the heels of watching my father have a stroke in person three weeks ago(it was mild also, with no lasting effects), just two days after returning from one of the best trips I’ve ever taken."
Tell me about that trip!
Also, tell me about your father. What is he like?
No, it was nothing concerning physical health. It was actually a meeting I had with a former employer, whom I’ve kept in touch with for years, about taking some steps for my future. It’s a fairly precarious situation I’m in, nearly uncharted territory. The last time I felt like this is when I moved to New York and just about everything was uncertain. The best I can describe it is that it’s a feeling where I just feel like I want to fall apart, and it’s sort of hard to concentrate. I don’t really know what depression feels like, since I’ve never really been depressed that I’m aware of. It has seemed to have gotten better the past couple of days. I have fewer moments of that “I just want to die” feeling(it’s not a suicidal feeling, it’s more like a “can this get any worse?” feeling). And naturally, the 40th anniversary of the worst day of my life is a couple days away, and very present in my thoughts, as it is this time each year. So my mind is constantly in “Jesus Christ, what’s next?” mode. It’s not my intention to be morose here, just rather matter-of-fact.
PoistaI’m glad it was only bruising from your bike! I think I can picture the type of bike—one with wide tires. Speaking of bikes, it is clumsy of me to have forgotten to ask how your wrist surgery went. (So much for being socially graceful...) I do hope it went well and leaves no lasting ill-effects.
My father. Well, somebody else could probably be more objective. He’s not someone I like being around very much. I never really have. But that’s relationship stuff. As for the man, he’s smart, and curious, very insecure and probably the most hypocritical person I’ve ever known. And he always says the wrong thing. He’s very child-like now: he never takes responsibility for anything he does. He’s quick to blame anyone else. If he makes some sort of mess, he’ll just walk away and wait for my mother to clean it up. I could keep going, but you get the idea I think. I have some of his good and bad qualities, which drives me nuts.
I will make the trip another post. I’m nearly out of energy.
I will say this: we’ve had quite a bit of communication in the past week or so—I can’t explain what I mean to say here. It’s been helpful or positive in some way. That’s all I can say.
The Trip
PoistaGoing to primary schools in the Northwest US means lessons on the history of the native peoples. One tribe in particular has always fascinated me.
In 1877, the Nez Perce who were not already living on reservations were given an ultimatum: move to the reservation in 30 days, or face the US Army in battle. It was the latest in the US government’s unilateral abrogation of treaties, but the tribe reluctantly agreed that the reservation was the best option for their people. During the journey to the reservation, a few renegade tribesmen killed some settlers who had previously gotten away with murder. The tribal leaders knew what the response of the US would be, though they still hoped to avert a fight. When the US sent the Army to where the tribe was camped, a civilian scout fired at the tribe, who came to meet the Army under a white flag of truce. Nez Perce warriors killed 34 soldiers in response—and lost none of their own. From mid-June to early October, about 750-800 Nez Perce, including only about 200 warriors, engaged the US Army as they attempted to flee to Canada—a 2,500 km journey through some of the toughest mountain terrain in the United States.
I traveled along nearly all of that journey, stopping at various points of interest, including the three major battlefields of that conflict. So, from White Bird Canyon to the Bear Paw Mountains, I traced the footsteps of what I consider the greatest Americans who ever lived. I tried to imagine their plight and feel their sorrow. I walked alone on their battlefields, on the bones of their dead buried in haste, through the beautiful meadows, listening to the creeks and the wind.
Wow. I'd never heard of the Nez Perce before. But it's not hard to understand why you consider them the greatest Americans who ever lived... It's all very moving to imagine.
PoistaI googled White Bird Canyon and the Bear Paw Mountains and they look really, really beautiful and impressive. I've never personally experienced landscapes like those. How long did the trip take?
What you've been going through really sounds quite difficult and unsettling. In your letter two or three months ago, you said you felt like your life is currently a train wreck. When and how did all this start? Or was there any specific starting point? And what explains the "ephemeral" feeling you've had for some years now? I'm not pretending these are easily answerable questions. What you're battling with just sounds like something quite important and existential.
What's your mother like?
My wrist surgery was easy and painless. They didn't even anesthetize me; they just gave me a magical injection that turned my arm into a useless lump of meat with no sensation (except for the sensation of "numbness"). It stayed that way for about 18 hours, which was interesting. Like I had a dead person's arm attached to me.
My wrist is almost normal now, which means that I'm going to return to my mailman life in a few days. We'll see how that goes. I'm actually really grateful to the wonderful person who hit me with their car, because these 7 weeks of freedom have really been helpful writing-wise.
I am very happy to hear that your wrist is more or less back to normal. Maybe whatever potion they gave you was a gift directly from Hogwarts. That must have been an odd experience to have a paralyzed limb.
PoistaWell, I’ll put it this way: having a job would remedy just about everything. There is indeed something unsettling about being homeless and non-employed. As to when and how it all began: those are fair questions, good questions even. I don’t really think I can pinpoint a single reason that things got to be how they are, except my loathing for the job-getting process(doing the work is the easy part) and the belief that I could draw on resources that in fact are unavailable for a few years. But I can tell you I am happy to own my decisions and regret nothing to a material degree. Besides, I simply don’t think looking back is very productive—with some exceptions, I tend not to dwell. I have taken steps recently that will help me move forward. I at least must try. I owe that to myself.
I didn’t intend to delve too deeply into that topic with you. But I wanted to mention it with a little more substance since I have referenced it peripherally to you, and because it’s somewhat unfair to mention something in a somewhat cryptic fashion. In sum, it’s a fairly big deal in my life right now, but my not featuring it only reflects that I’d rather talk with you about anything else, when given the opportunity.
I’m glad you took the time to see White Bird Canyon and the Bear Paw. It is without a doubt the most sacred ground I’ve walked on. It was eerie just being in those places, especially the Big Hole. They look like they did in 1877 since they are still remote areas(the gold that was discovered that precipitated the Natives’ forced relocation didn’t sustain the white settlers for long). It seems sort of dreamlike that I was ever there. It was otherworldly to be sure. What they did impresses me to no end.
I spent a total of five days on the trip and really was never rushed for time. The only thing that would have made it better would have been sharing it with someone equally interested and enthusiastic. I also drove through a hail storm—my first in decades—and saw a herd of baby Bighorn Sheep in the wild, which was a thrill. It was unlike any trip I’ve taken before.
Your trip sounds absolutely magnificent. Really… If I were(!) more comfortable with driving, I’d probably be doing things like that.
PoistaHail storms are nice.
I just got back from my own trip. It was quite different from yours, but there were some similarities. I walked to Lohja, again. You can google it – I promise you won’t be impressed, but I just love that fucking place, for reasons I don’t fully understand. Just arriving there gave me a feeling of quiet happiness. There’s also something satisfying about traveling by foot; it helps me remember how big the world actually is. I learned that in the 19th century, Aleksis Kivi, “the national writer” of Finland, regularly walked the same roads I did some days ago. I don’t feel any particular personal connection to Aleksis Kivi (at the moment, at least), but it’s odd to know that the landscape hasn’t really changed since he walked there.
I’m always interested in learning about your life. But it’s also perfectly understandable if you don’t feel like discussing the details of your current situation. I really hope things get better soon. But all in all, I think that "existential crises" are positive. Or at least a sign of something positive. I don’t know if you’d describe your situation as an existential crisis, but I just think that being slightly (or sometimes very) uncomfortable with the world around you, or the life you’re living, is healthy and good. People with no depth don’t experience such things.
(You didn’t tell me about your mother yet!)
So why are you uncomfortable with driving? (Though I am impressed that you are motivated to walk to a place 40 miles from Helsinki!) I walk 5 miles most days and you’re making me feel unworthy of my legs!
PoistaIt is refreshing that you are so captivated by Lohja. I take it the lake there is a feature you enjoy? Do you participate in any water sports? Imagine being called “the national writer of [insert nation here]”. That’s astonishing. I guess you’ve got a lot to aspire to now. Perhaps your use of the subjunctive is a start? I joke, naturally.
Well, frankly, my hesitance of discussing anything unpleasant is the result of what I call the “Fun Bobby” dilemma. As a watcher of “Friends,” you may recall the episode where the friends realized that their fun ‘friend’ was not as fun sober, and so they abandoned him when he stopped drinking. (Almost) needless to say, that’s not far from the truth of what happens here. Friendships are nearly ‘transactional.’ If you’re not fulfilling your end(mostly in the form of entertaining the other party in some way), the transaction is cancelled! Hearing about someone’s struggles is not included in the fine print.
I’m not suggesting you’re of the same bent—I’d have a hard time believing that you are—but it’s always on my mind, this balancing act of how much bad news you’re allowed to share before you’re “fun Bobby-ed”.
I hope you’re able to bottle an ‘Existential Crisis is Positive’ elixir. I would rather not be enduring my current situation. Nothing is certain in life and obstacles abound; still, some element of stability is usually desirable. I’m not at all concerned about not having lived ‘deeply.’ That’s one think I will never have to regret.
Oh! I forgot to answer vis-a-vis my ephemeral state of mind: it has absolutely nothing to do with my current particulars; it was something I inexplicably adopted before I even left my life in New York. Being in the moment is something I wish I’d been able to do decades before. Not only is it helpful in a utilitarian sense; I believe it is the ‘proper’ way to live. Too much of our time is spent in some place or time we’re not. Being in the moment, 100% focused on the task or thought at hand makes just about everything seem worthwhile. In an era where people are on their phones while they fuck(and others simply yield to it, which is even more revolting), it’s somewhat liberating to consider myself distant from that mentality.
My mother is a decent person. She thinks of others before herself much of the time(I think all good mothers have that in common). But she can be bitchy and judgmental, which can be off putting at times. She knows me probably better than anyone, because she pays attention(see second sentence), and that is comforting to a degree. She can be ‘warm’ but that’s not the default. The default is more ‘caring’ in a sort of practical way. I enjoy spending time with her because she is easy going and outgoing to a degree, but of course we have nothing in common, so the conversation is often just fluff.
I wonder how that paragraph would have gone if I’d written it a few days ago. Attitudes about people can change fairly quickly at times.
Sleep well, Mayor Olli Brander of Lohja.
Walking to Lohja took three days, or about 5 hours of walking per day. It was slightly painful, but I knew it would be.
PoistaI don’t participate in any water sports. As a general rule, I’m remarkably passive and ghost-like. I just walk around, think my thoughts and watch other people do things. That’s my style, usually. The lake is probably the best thing about Lohja. There are spots where one can sit and be alone and feel the wind coming across the lake and feel happy. And when it’s dark, the lake becomes absolutely magical, mysterious lights flashing in the distance. I also enjoy the size of Lohja: it’s small enough and big enough. But the context also explains why I like it so much: there’s just something exciting about arriving there after spending so many hours walking through the countryside and seeing nothing but cars and insects. The hotel room and the bars and the grocery stores and the easiness of modern living suddenly seem unusual and luxurious.
I guess what makes driving scary are the constant mental images of me suddenly making a mistake and killing somebody with the car. I don’t know why I’m so afraid of that, but it probably has something to do with the fact that I wasn’t a particularly good student in driving school. I wasn’t horrible either, but there were some dangerous moments, and I was unhappy and stressed out and had to take the driving test four times before I passed. Maybe one day I’ll force myself to drive until it starts to feel natural. And just hope I won’t kill anyone.
I remember Fun Bobby. Has that happened to you in the past? Or have you seen it happening? While there is certainly some truth to the Fun Bobby thing, it doesn’t quite resonate with me. Strangely, I feel like discussing the painfulness of life is an essential part of all my friendships. Quite often, anxiety, loneliness, unhappy families and other such things have been among the first things I’ve discussed with people. It’s weird but true, and it’s probably partially explained by the fact that people have found and read my blog(s) before meeting me in the physical world. There’s been a sense that seriousness and weirdness are OK... I really don’t think that the darker shades of life are boring. Actually, it seems to me that they are the road to deep and close relationships.
Besides, didn’t Fun Bobby become boring principally because his personality disappeared completely when he stopped drinking? Even in that case, abandoning him was a really shitty thing to do. But I guess God had decided that Fun Bobby would be a one-episode kind of guy….
Your ephemeral state sounds quite ideal and wonderful. I think you’ve found something that many people would like to find. I’m also glad your state includes “thoughts”. In meditative circles, the ideal of mindfulness has been a big thing for a long time, and even outside those circles a lot of people seem to be drawn to the idea of living in the moment. I think that’s enormously valuable – it’s just that my idea of mindfulness includes being alive and present to the inner world, too… If mindfulness is JUST a matter of thinking about the dishes while doing the dishes and shutting off the imagination, I don’t really care about mindfulness. The most alive moments in my life have always been moments when I’m pleasurably engaging with the world around me, really looking at everything, and the things I see fill me with all kinds of memories and dreams, thoughts and ideas… One moment of life becomes a door to experiencing the totality of life – the present, yes, but also the past, and all the possible futures.
One of the main reasons why people’s addictions to their phones bother me is that they miss out on thinking and daydreaming. I feel like those things are necessary on a human level, at least when it comes to creativity and becoming a wiser human being.
Somehow I think I should have known about your passivity. I think it’s entirely possible that you lead a more solitary life than I, and that’s not something I encounter often, and so is easy to overlook. Whatever the reality, it is beautiful testimony that you can find such pleasure sitting alone while the wind crafts your hair opposite the twinkling lights. Soreness aside, the walk sounds amazing. There are few things that give me as much pleasure at the moment. Perhaps I’ll try a lengthy journey of my own, now that the pestering issue of plantar fasciitis seems resolved.
VastaaPoistaIt’s true—nobody should get behind the wheel without a certain level of confidence, so maybe not driving is for the best at least for now. But something tells me Finland would be well traversed by auto. Though maybe trains could accomplish as much? I’m a huge proponent of public transport, besides.
Yes, I’ve seen people here “fun Bobby-Ed” numerous times. For me it’s slightly different because at the earliest signs, I simply drop out of the relationship preemptively. It’s probably 90% of the reason I don’t have friends. I consider being oneself a vital aspect of friendship. In that regard, I’m actually grateful, as it wouldn’t occur to me to disassociate with someone simply because they were no longer able to keep me entertained. Like you, I think those dark places are the root of real friendship. We’re of such a similar mind on this that I don’t have to utter another word, except to say I’ve never met a soul who wasn’t interesting enough to know in some way, or needed to know someone.
The gods here in America often make people worthy of no more than a single episode.
Yeah, being ephemeral doesn’t have to discount imagination. Why can’t daydreaming and even just thinking be considered worthy of focus? It really was something that happened quite by chance in my case—I could not even begin to explain the change, as it was nothing of a conscious effort. So I take no credit for it. I’m just glad for it. Even dishwashing deserves my full attention. I’m not suggesting the mind can’t ever wander or that thinking about tomorrow is unwise. I’m just promoting ‘being’ where we are rather than elsewhere as a default. Unless I’m playing chess—then I have to everywhere at once: past, present and future.
I really recommend traveling by foot. Although trains and buses are great too… at least when they’re not totally packed with people. But I also like going to strange, remote, desolate places, and a car would be useful in the sense that it would enable me to go almost anywhere fairly easily. On the other hand, the planet probably wouldn’t mind if I remained carless for the rest of my life.
PoistaIt sucks that you’ve witnessed so much human shittiness. At the same time, I can’t help wondering whether there’s a risk of judging people too quickly… Personally, I have a slight pathological tendency to just assume that people are self-centered and superficial before I get to know them, and quite often, I’ve been surprised by their decency or thoughtfulness (and then I feel stupid.) But it’s an unfortunate fact that giving people a (second) chance is risky, and usually stressful. I’m sure you haven’t made those decisions lightly.
About mindfulness and daydreaming – I have to add a few things to what I wrote earlier, because this stuff is really complex.
As with everything else, when it comes to thinking and imagination, the most important question is: does it help you or does it enslave you? Do these things enrich your existence, or are they stopping you from concentrating on things that you deeply care about? Rumination is different from reflection, and daydreaming can become problematic if one is unable to switch it off. Still, I feel very motivated to write about and defend the inner universe (thinking, remembering, introspection and fantasy), because not a lot of people seem to be doing that at the moment. The technology industry is doing very bad things to people’s ability to pay attention, BUT it’s also making the world a duller, stupider place by replacing people’s individual thoughts and unique inner worlds with an endless, collective stream of mostly trivial information. While the ability to be present and undistracted is totally essential in human life, some “distractions” are better than others, and can sometimes even be necessary. So I think that the problems created and/or exacerbated by the technology industry are quite diverse, and all of them should be taken seriously and addressed.
While true—I’ve witness as much human shittiness as anyone else, I suppose—I’ve also witnessed those things that make knowing people worthwhile. As to whether I’ve judged too quickly, I’ll answer this way: one of the few things Donald Trump ever said that I agreed with is that “...yes, people deserve second chances, and even third chances.” My first impressions tend to prove correct(which of course means I’ve also been wrong), but that doesn’t mean I judge anyone by their worst day. Like you, my expectations are usually low, but that makes it nice when they’re exceeded.
PoistaI recently took a book to a local shopping center to enjoy with a cup of coffee. There’s a guy who makes coffee regularly and I’ve noticed he’s very friendly and inquisitive with people. I would guess he’s in his early 20’s, perhaps as old as 25. He noticed my book and inquired in a very polite way, and even knew a little something about the subject. I was further impressed that he thought enough to mention that a former co-worker of his who is no longer working there is now at another nearby place—because he knew I was fond of the other guy. So, it’s not all crap. He’s probably the most intellectually curious person I’ve met in at least a few years.
I thought I understood what you had to say about the “inner universe,” but maybe I don’t. I just wanted to make it clear that I have no problem with people daydreaming or remembering or fantasizing. It’s just that I’m a proponent of doing those things in earnest rather that just making them an ancillary activity. Same for anything really. When I’m with someone in person—I don’t want to be thinking of being somewhere else, or being with someone else. So I’m a fan of your inner universe. And the outer universe. I just think they both deserve our utmost. And of course I think daydreaming or thinking while walking is a far cry from doing so while driving. I’d encourage it in the former instance and deplore it in the latter!
Your related points about the influence of technology are well-taken, but I’m afraid I have some fairly strong disagreements. As silly as I consider Twitter and Facebook, et al, I don’t really blame them. I blame their users. I realize that some people simply don’t know better(and I’m certainly not pointing the finger at them), but most people are presumably intelligent enough to put down their phones(years ago it was turning off the TV). It’s a matter of wanting to. No doubt there are those who are in the trade of manipulation. But if you and I are aware, aren’t others? (Maybe I’ll just include myself.) I don’t consider myself all that intelligent compared with others, but I’m certainly not enamored with the allure of phones and their potential to make me present “everywhere, at once.” I suppose this is somewhat akin to my blaming those who voted for President Trump more than the man himself. Are a hundred million people really so dumb they can’t see the bullshit? Certainly some are. But I suppose most are just content to be in a bubble that reinforces their points of view. I don’t know if that’s a fair analogy or not. But hopefully the point remains.
Now that I’ve become a mailman again, I’m probably not going to be able to write to you as often as I’d like to.
PoistaThis is the bad side of slowness: because it takes me a million years to do things, I feel like I don’t have enough time for all the things I care about.
Or, actually, the problem is something a bit more specific – namely that whenever I feel like my writing is stuck in some way, or not moving forward the way I’d like it to, I become joyless in other areas of my life. And the lack of joy is probably the thing that slows me down more than anything. With joy, things are easy; without it, they’re difficult.
I really don’t know why this is, but it’s particularly detrimental to the social dimension of my life. I think there’s probably still something unexamined in my relationship to writing; something not quite healthy that has a hold on me. Nevertheless, sooner or later I’m going to have to admit that this mail delivery thing is too time-consuming. As positive as it has been in other ways, it definitely has a negative effect in terms of how much time I have for writing, and when I don’t have enough time for writing, my life suffers as a whole.
I think I really understand what you’re talking about when you talk about living in the moment. That state is existentially ideal, in many ways. Socially, there’s probably nothing more wonderful (and even transformative) than spending time with a person who’s totally present and genuinely paying attention. That’s the kind of person I’d also like to be, and try to be.
The reason why I went on about the importance of the inner universe isn’t that I think that YOU don’t get it; it’s really because it’s something that I deeply care about and have spent a lot of time thinking about… I feel a sense of duty when it comes to writing about this stuff. I guess I went into sermon mode instead of fully engaging with our conversation and what you were saying.
To be honest, I’m a bit stressed out and struggling under the weight of all the things that I feel a “sense of duty” to write about. The New Book is becoming too immense and complicated, and there’s a part of me that would like to flee to the mountains and abandon everything and just sit and wait and let everything clear up in my head. Your ephemeral state would actually be really helpful now. The ability to take care of one step at a time, without worrying about all the other steps, is pretty important in creative work.
It makes me happy to hear you also get to witness the better sides of humanity. What was the book you discussed with the coffee guy?
PoistaThe question of whether human nature is inherently bad or inherently alright is complex, and I’ll probably write more about it at a later point. But I’ll just say that I don’t think that there’s some objectively right answer; it’s all just a matter of different moods creating different ways of seeing. Still, whenever I manage to look at other people as inherently moral beings who are trying to do their best according to their sense of right and wrong (even if their values and priorities and fantasies differ from mine, and even if their cognitive and emotional resources sometimes run out), I feel like that way of looking is more sober and more spacious and somehow more “realistic” than the misanthropic, black-and-white, “people are jerks and idiots” way of thinking about the world. I suspect that the “people are jerks and idiots” way of looking is really the heart trying to protect itself. To always expect the worst is a safe place to be, but also profoundly destructive.
I get what you’re saying about social media (and Trump). It's true that people's general lack of reflection probably partly explains why they started buying smartphones in the first place. Still, I assume that very few people actually realized HOW addictive these devices would be. There are millions (dozens of millions? hundreds of millions?) of people who'd love to be less distracted and spend more time focusing on things other than social media (like their families or their work or hobbies), and parents generally worry about their children’s screen time. However, using a smartphone in moderation is currently very difficult. These devices are simply too alluring.
PoistaTristan Harris – a former Google employee who's now devoting his life to educating people about the dark side of the technology industry – has explained that the whole business model of Silicon Valley is based on deliberately creating addiction. Thousands of experts – the world’s smartest engineers, psychologists, neuroscientists etc. – have worked very hard to maximize how much time people spend looking at their phones. They know a lot about people's psychological vulnerabilities, and their job is to design these products in a way that exploits those vulnerabilities. The reason for this is that the business model of social media is ad-based: the real clients of companies like Facebook are actually not the users of social media, but other companies buying space for their ads. The role and purpose of the average social media user is simply to be a pair of eyeballs spending as much time as possible looking at social media and seeing those ads.
What Harris and other Silicon Valley dissidents are saying is that these technologies could also work very differently. Instead of manipulating people, all these knowledgeable experts could design these devices and platforms in a way that would help people actively CHOOSE what kind of role they want technology to play in their lives. The users could become the clients. So for example, instead of trying to steal its owner’s attention and make them forget what they were doing 300 times a day, a smartphone would actively assist a person in staying undistracted and focused on the things they want to focus on. Instead of creating polarization by constantly boosting and promoting shocking and provocative material, the algorithms of social media could favour and encourage good and civil behaviour.
Of course, none of this is just a matter of what technology companies do or don’t do; people have always been drawn to things like gossip and entertainment, and there may be deeper societal reasons causing people to want to escape their minds and surroundings. It’s just that I think that talking about the technology industry is the smartest approach to take, because it’s the easiest thing to change. I believe that if people knew that changing the way this technology works – and turning it into something more helpful and meaningful – is an option, many people would start actively demanding it. That’s one of the things I really, really dream of seeing in this lifetime.
Did you take this—
Poista‘I thought I understood what you had to say about the “inner universe,” but maybe I don’t.’
—to mean that I thought you were writing too much about the “inner universe” topic?
Oh, no!
PoistaI just felt like I was talking about it in a "sermonizing" or slightly unresponsive way, and thus possibly giving the impression that I thought you didn't "get it".
It's all just tiredness. As magical as the inner universe is, I'd really like to find a way to turn it down a little after 10 p.m... If I don't figure out how to do that, this writing thing is probably literally going to kill me sooner or later. It's like there's a bunch of very lively ghosts tickling my insides, and their party often starts when I'd like to go to bed.... God, I need some rest.
Also, I'm sorry that it took me so long to answer such a simple question. For complicated reasons, I was avoiding my email (which is where I first notice when you've said something). Knowing how difficult your situation is, I'd really like to be there - or here - or somewhere - for you and not disappear for unspecified periods of time. Just know that even when I do that, you're in my thoughts all the time.
Also:
PoistaI think about "human nature" a lot. It seems that what you said about Fun Bobby shocked my system in some way that I can't articulate very well. I feel somehow angry every time I think about it.
I guess the first reason is that I'd like to think that people are not like that, and it's unpleasant to admit that sometimes they are. The second reason is that it's just not right that you've mainly known people that are so emotionally and existentially inept that they abandon a person simply because he or she is going through something difficult. I mean, who are these people, and why are they shitting on humanity? Ineptitude may be common, but I know that humanity is capable of a lot better than that. I've seen it and experienced it. In myself and in others.
I'm too tired to know exactly what it is that I'm trying to say.
It was in some way imperative to have an answer to my question: I would hate for you to think anything I would ever say could indicate that you were saying too much. I hope that I’ve been clear to the contrary: when it comes to what you care about, I want more, not less, despite recognizing I having no say in the matter.
PoistaI was hoping your return to the rigors of ascending tall buildings with sacks of mail would help help tire you to the point you could rest properly. (At the same time, I, too, have wondered how delivering mail might hamper your passion—particularly because your theoretically limited schedule often gets augmented.) I wish I had a remedy to counter your active mind; while I can’t identify in exactly the same terms, I have over the years lamented that my mind is at times overactive and that I would welcome a mechanism that could throttle it back when necessary. I’m sure it’s nothing like what you experience. The way you describe it, your mind has a lot in common with a bees’ nest.
I’m sorry you’re not finding much joy in your life at the moment. I get where you’re coming from when you speak of the energy that typically results from joyfulness. Does anything ever noticeably clear your mind? Since my ephemeral reckoning was accidental, I’m afraid I have no way to unlock its activation in others. But I’m confident that you will wrap your head around the New Book in a way that results in a manageable scope. Just make sure you keep the proper focus. “Does this(word/sentence/paragraph/chapter) contribute to what I’m trying to convey?” That’s what we should always be asking. (“We” because, if you can believe it, I have decided to move forward with a writing project. I don’t want to go into any details just yet. But soon.)
Please don’t be too disturbed by my mention of “fun Bobby.” You are right—there is plenty of humanity in the world. I have been lucky to experience it too. I think the reason for the shittiness usually involves a sense of self-importance. Unfortunately, I’ve never known a time in my life where it’s been to such a high degree as now. But that’s not to say I consider that ‘natural.’ I don’t think people have a default when it comes to their ‘nature.’ I believe so much goes into the equation that it just it’s incomprehensible. And isn’t it ironic that ineptitude doesn’t disqualify a person from being full of humanity?
Oh—I nearly forgot. The book I was conveying to Mr. Coffee was called The Battle of the Big Hole. And I just finished another on the broader subject of the events of 1877 and the trip I took two months ago. I have been a reading fiend lately! I’m actually going to start another book on the same subject in a couple days. I’ve never read so much on one subject in my life.
So that—and job searching have been keeping me busy lately. I really have felt good, even though I have plenty of reasons not to(again—the ephemeral thing). And I am grateful for your concern and what you said about being here(there) for me. It is very kind of you. But you needn’t worry. I still find this life fascinating.
Rest, Olli.
Olli—I’m going to write more, either today or tomorrow. Just some odds & ends. But for now, I just wanted to say I hope you are doing all right—I’ve been thinking about a lot of the things we’ve spoken about recently.
VastaaPoistaOne of the things that’s actually been at the fore of those thoughts is how you are inspired by the right sorts of people to want to do good. It’s a thought that’s given me substantial pleasure recently.
There’s more, but it’s late and I want to sleep a little.
I just wanted to say: I hope you’re finding moments—great or small—that make you happy.
Phineas,
PoistaThanks again for everything you wrote.
How cool to know you’ve been writing something too. Hopefully you’ll let me read it when it’s finished. And it makes me happy to hear about your fascination with 1877 and life in general. Does the writing project contribute to that sense of aliveness in any way? I’m asking this because two other friends have recently surprised me by telling me about their writing projects – suddenly people in my life are writing, and it’s interesting how it seems to change something about a person’s way of being in the world. There’s just something about writing that brings a sense of meaning and agency… Even juiciness and wonder.
Of course, one can also kill oneself by writing too much. In the past week and a half, I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on the place of writing in my life. It really woke me up when I realized that the New Book was turning into a life-eating monster just like the book I already abandoned. Spending all day and all night either writing it or thinking about it was starting to feel like being eaten by something all the time. I don’t like the joyless, lifeless, reclusive skeleton I was turning into, again.
The fact is: the book I’m trying to write is impossible. It’s so challenging in so many different ways that there’s just no way I’m going to succeed.
And yet, weirdly, I may be able to pull it off. What it really depends on is whether or not I’m HAVING FUN writing it. This may sound oversimplifying – but it’s not. It really is this simple. As I wrote earlier: with joy, things are easy; without joy, they’re difficult. I don’t know if this applies to all things in life (probably not), but at least in creative work, the power of joy is almost supernatural in the sense that it seems to magically solve every problem, or make problems disappear. I’ve been a writer for more than a decade now, and I’ve experienced it countless times: when there’s joy, all things just sort of take care of themselves. Actually, whether or not you “succeed” at whatever it was you intended to do almost becomes _irrelevant_, because what you’re creating is going to be alive and real anyway, even if it’s something totally different from what you had in mind.
From now on, I’m going to prioritize creating an environment where joy can thrive. That almost sounds silly, and yet it’s so radically important that I feel like I’ve cracked some code or escaped some prison, fooled the world and figured out what life is about. I don’t even regret not realizing this earlier – I’m just glad I realized it now. What’s particularly great is that I think I already know how joy is kept alive and cultivated.
About three years ago (or something), I became really diligent about writing, I started working really hard on it every single day, very seriously and conscientiously, even when I didn’t feel like it, and the result was that I’ve gotten to experience stress and exhaustion to an extent I never knew before. In my case, maximizing the time and effort spent on writing really, really doesn’t help writing. Interestingly, the healthiest, most alive and creative periods of my life in the past years have been the spring of 2020 and the spring of this year, because during those periods I allowed myself to take a break from writing and do whatever the hell I wanted. Take a long walk when I felt like taking a long walk. Take an unreasonably long bath, just hang out with the Canis lupus, ride public transportation to random places. In the end, I didn’t even stop writing during those periods – I just wrote less, and I wrote well. Feeling like I didn’t have to get things done helped me get things done.
PoistaI saw a psychiatrist 10 days ago and he prescribed some drugs that are supposed to help me sleep and feel better (apparently without harmful side effects). After that, I actually have been feeling better, but I think that the real reason is simply that I’ve allowed myself to relax again. This time, I’m going to try to make this the default state. It’ll probably take some practicing, but that’s fine. From now on, I’m going to allow myself to stay away from the computer whenever I feel like doing something else. I’ll only write when I feel a certain excitement – which is quite often, because without a sense of hurry and pressure, joy just seems to appear naturally. From now on, taking a day off is my first medicine whenever I get stuck in some way.
What you wrote about human nature is very true, and wise. I agree. At the end of the day, there is no default. There’s just complexity. And I think that really often this stuff comes down to interpretation.
PoistaStill, thinking about human nature is certainly not a waste of time. I think that it’s really important to find a balance between 1) acknowledging the bad and 2) believing in the good. There’s no denying there are terrible and hurtful things going on in this world, and turning away from them would be irresponsible and wrong, not to mention brainless. The truth is that our species is capable of greater idiocy and darkness and violence than any other species that has ever existed. AND YET we’re also capable of greater wisdom, and more radical compassion and altruism, than any other species in the history of this planet. One just needs to believe that that side of us will win in the end – and keep acting according to that possibility, serve and advance that side of the world in every way that’s possible.
If one reacts to the darkness of the world by turning that light off, darkness has won.
Even on a more personal level, I guess the only road to love and connection is to just take a risk and believe in the good, even while acknowledging that things may go wrong. This is actually a complex topic for me, too, because the fact is that I still haven’t learned to live as a person among other people. I have a lot more clarity and insight when it comes to saving the world than when it comes to spending time with other people and sharing myself with them. I think that in terms of friendship and intimacy, I’ve actually fucked up in a big way. In mean, I actually really like my friends, and spend a lot of time thinking about the people I know, and yet I think I’ve repeatedly made people feel insecure and confused, caused them to wonder whether I give a shit about them or not. You know, I often hide, especially in the presence of other people. Obviously, this is not the whole truth – I’ve also been a great friend in many respects, but I know that I’ve fucked up in terms of taking the risk and really letting people into my life. And it’s just difficult and scary to fix something like that. And yet, it’s something I’m going to have to do sooner or later... There are matters of life and death, but there are also matters of “life or half a life”, and I think that this is one of those.
Listen to this and let me know if you like it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SLeyuKiMosY
Well, to be clear, I’ve not actually written anything yet. That’s not entirely true—I’ve written some of the introduction, mostly just so I don’t forget. I was on a walk—sans music—and thought of the intro and the opening, and wanted to get the intro down because it’s somewhat technical in nature. It’s a project that’s required a good bit of research, and I’m nearly done with that. The nature of the project precludes me from wanting to talk about it before I’m done, but yes, you will definitely be asked to read it. In fact, I’m actually counting on that as integral to the process.
PoistaAll right, now to deflate the writer’s boner: there is absolutely nothing about this project that is exciting or making me feel more alive. No juiciness. No meaning. I see it really as nothing more than a process, really. It is nothing less than…work. But am I glad I’m doing it? Hell yes!
Sitting down to write will be the easy part. The heavy lifting is in the outline and answering a major philosophic question. I’m sure I will learn things along the way—I already have. But I’ve got the whole thing envisioned, so it’s really just a matter of time, literally. I just can’t do everything in a day, unfortunately. I wish I could. I will add this: I find myself thinking about it very often. Not paralyzingly so, but often.
Okay, so now on to your writing. I’m very sorry that everything is at a crossroads in terms of your writing. But I have to tell you: writing—especially the writing you want to do—is hard work. You can enjoy the work, it can affect you positively. But I’m nearly certain it will never be “fun.” To that end, I was sorry to read: “…there’s just no way I’m going to succeed.” You’ve abandoned one project. And don’t get me wrong—that possibility always has to be part of the equation. But now? To do that with the book you were “…born to write.”?
You’ve spoken before about how crisis can bring out your best. Maybe now is the time to demonstrate it. Obviously you can do nothing without your health—that must supersede all. But just don’t give up on yourself. You’ve taken on a monumental task. Slim it down. Attack it in pieces. Sounds like the pressure you’ve put on yourself has caught you. I’m glad the pharmaceuticals are helping.
Taking breaks when you need them is a terrific idea. Whenever I have long interludes between piano playing, it always sounds better. In fact, the longer the break, the better the sound! So I get it.
I like everything you had to say about human nature: it’s complex, it deserves to be explored, and there’s no default. I agree that whatever bad there is should no deter us from exploring the good. There is tremendous capacity for human beings—I believe that’s what Dr. Bregman was trying to tell us, ultimately.
PoistaIt would be hard for me to put just how badly you’ve fucked up into proper perspective in terms of your interpersonal relationships. Somehow, I think you might be overstating it. I just can’t fathom how a guy like you could be perceived at aiming at less than the good. Still, it’s an important acknowledgment that you are somehow withdrawn, distant, or “inside your shell,” when you’re around other people. Given all that, why do I envision you “commanding” any room you’re in? I can’t picture it any other way. I recall when your friend Arsi said you seemed to be totally engaged at his book party when you were in a room mostly filled with strangers.
I think you’re right about the key to relationships—of just about any kind. There is a certain degree of risk associated. You’ve got to expose yourself to some degree. Vulnerability isn’t easy, but in terms of the potential rewards, it’s crucial. But Jesus Christ, that’s just expressing it in an almost mathematical way. It’s just part of being a complete person. Going through this life in a superficial way isn’t really going through life at all.
I’m frankly surprised in a big way at your admission. When I first learned of this blog, one of my first thoughts was: “Man, this guy isn’t afraid of anything. He puts it all out there.” I realize people are far more complex than a few(hundred) blog posts, but that’s how you come across—supremely confident. But my gosh! I think the real point here is that I can’t think of a solitary reason you shouldn’t be! You’re amazing in a lot of ways. Remarkable even.
You spoke of the fear of it all—letting yourself be you when you’re with others, vulnerable and exposed as your true self. Surely you’ve done that more than once—how did it go? Did you regret it? Did the other person or other people react negatively? I’m guessing your experience has been mostly the former?
I know you believe in yourself—we’ve spoken about it.
Trust me: you should.
A few things I forgot to mention(the odds & ends among them):
PoistaI have taken quite a few long walks without music to focus on “the project”. It’s been enormously beneficial. I’ve gotten a lot done in my head and then noted it when I got home. It is interesting how different the experience is without headphones—I actually have to talk with people. The ones who talk are exceedingly friendly. And the assortment of canines—Jesus!
On one walk recently, there were a couple of bonuses—
I found a guitar pick, which had a faded number on it, .73 - I wasn’t aware they came in sizes.
And I saw juvenile red-tailed hawk. I was ecstatic about it. It was about 12 feet away, on a fence bordering a pasture. When I arrived it was eating. I stayed observing for about 25 minutes. It was still on the fence when I left. It was keenly aware of my presence, but it only looked at me a couple of times. It was the largest bird I’ve ever been near in the ‘wild.’ It was a wonderful experience.
I listened to the Kate Bush album—I’m sorry to report I didn’t like it. But please don’t let that discourage you from making recommendations—after all, I loved The Lark Ascending, the short movie made entirely of wool, and Bregman’s book. I do have one Kate Bush song in my music collection: This Woman’s Work.
I found a short film—in Italian with English subtitles thankfully—that I’ve watched about 20 times. It’s ridiculously short at 8 mins. It’s called Buono Notte. It’s about a guy about to lose his virginity(to a guy). It’s sweet and thoughtful and makes me wish I had talent to create!
And, as a fun aside: some years ago I saw a movie called Giant Little Ones, which is one of the best films I’ve seen in the past 5 years. So, I watched it only once—until a couple of nights ago. It was available, but at a ridiculous cost. So I got a crazy idea—because it’s gay themed, maybe someone bootlegged it to an adult site? Sure enough! Anyway, it made me laugh, finding it for free, but on an adult site…Plus, the movie is amazing.
And I’ve just started reading the 4th book on the events in 1877…
Okay—since Twilight: TSW has been relegated to the shelf(at least until you’re rich and famous and people will want even cocktail napkins you’ve scribbled on), you have to tell me which character I would love(platonically)…
One of the things I REALLY hate is when people are condescending or they tell me something I obviously know or understand.
PoistaAs such, I apologize for what I wrote about the writing you’re doing being hard work. I can assure you I did not intend condescension; I merely wanted to convey that you should go easy on yourself when it gets tough. So, please strike what I wrote above and replace it with this:
“One lesson learned recently, no less profound than the subject of the books themselves, is the construction thereof. To imagine the effort involved is nearly incomprehensible when it’s realized that these volumes begin from scraps of yellowing paper, buried in boxes hidden away in distant museum closets that few ever enter. My appreciation for this knows no bounds.”
I wanted to relate this, as we’ve spoken a bit about humanity recently.
PoistaThis week I did some inquiring of one of the authors I read recently and a historian/professor who I watched give an interesting talk on John Steinbeck last weekend. I heard back from the historian the following day.
I had commended him on his Steinbeck presentation and, since his field of expertise and authorship included a topic of which I’ve wanted more knowledge, asked if he’d recommend one of his books or another which broadly covers the topic. He returned a wonderful reply, which included steering me away from his own work by instead recommending the work of three others. It was, in effect, a perfect response. And I appreciated it even more when I found out that he’s also the dean of his university, one of the biggest in the US. That he would take the time for a stranger was gratifying.
So, indeed I do have good experiences from time to time. I’m going to savor this one for a while.
All right, Brander—I hope you’ll let me know if I’m babbling here too much.
PoistaSo one of the things of interest in the Steinbeck presentation I mentioned was the idea of “…the ancient commission of the writer…”
I immediately thought of you and your goals.
Steinbeck explains it better than I:
https://youtu.be/7SKEODtaQUU
p.s.—this is the first time I’ve heard his voice
p.p.s.—I saw this quote today and also thought of you:
“Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.”
~ Ernest Hemingway
(Today is also the first time I’ve heard his voice…)
More tomorrow…
VastaaPoistaI still owe you a response to the whole Silicon Valley/Tech question. Soon…
PoistaPhineas, I'm very sorry. The writing school started about a month ago. For the most part, I've actually really enjoyed it (which is odd; for the first time in my life I'm enjoying school) but they're forcing me to write all kinds of things. Which has caused some unsurprising time management problems... Fortunately, these problems are not permanent, since the school will go on a three-month break in December.
VastaaPoistaIn any case, I have many thoughts and a lot to say. I'll write a response to everything you said in the near future.
Okay, I think it's the "near future" now... I'll start writing my response now, it'll appear here soon. I hope you're still there, Phineas. And safe and well!
VastaaPoistaI’m happy we’re now in the near future…
VastaaPoistaWelcome back.
Dear Phineas,
VastaaPoistaThis autumn was intense. It’s been a strange experience, letting all these Real Writers read parts of the book, while the book is still work in progress. With the Twilight Book, I tried to make the whole thing as perfect as possible, I tried to solve every problem, before I felt ready to let anyone else see it. Now I’ve been forced to do things very differently. This new way of doing things actually feels better.
There was this one teacher, a wise and well-respected literary guy, who thought that my vision for the book was totally nonsensical. He just really didn’t get why anyone would want to write a book like this. I actually think it was a problem of communication more than anything else… but still, out of all the conversations I had with teachers, that was probably the most helpful one. Surprisingly, the fact that he thought I was crazy just gave me this confident, humorously excited feeling of “Oh yes, I’m crazy. I’ll show you what craziness looks like!”
It turns out that identifying as slightly crazy really helps creativity… whereas trying to be as sane as possible really doesn’t help. This doesn’t mean that analytical thinking isn’t valuable and necessary, it’s just that the beating heart of art is, and has to be, something other than tidy rationality. It’s about trusting and following some deeper place, something that’s hurting and burning…. and recklessly and childishly hopeful.
Now the writing school is on a break for three months, and the whole autumn already seems like a weird dream. Everything is quiet again. That actually feels nice. As stimulating as it was to learn about other people’s perspectives on literature, it was also a bit too noisy and hectic. There were lots of ideas in my head, and I kept having all kinds of realizations about writing, but somehow, with all that interaction and the pressure of the deadlines on me, it was challenging to really put anything into practice. I kept writing and writing the first 80 or so pages of the book over and over. I worked hard on maybe six different “first chapters”, but I just ended up tossing everything out in the end.
PoistaA few days after the semester ended, something finally happened. I’d experienced those “This is how the book needs to begin” epiphanies many times before, but this time, when I sat down and started writing, there was something about the sentences that immediately felt right. It was almost a physical knowing, this warm energy in my lungs.
For a couple of weeks now, I’ve been writing sentences that feel right. I feel like I’ve entered some stream, and I know it’s going to throw me out eventually, so before that happens, I’ll just make the best of it. There’s still a lot of important stuff I haven’t figured out, but finally, there’s this sense of making progress, like I know what I need to do now, and what the next steps are, and oh man… It’s the best thing in the world.
It was fascinating to read about your creative process. How you find it worthwhile, even though it isn’t really giving you those “juicy” things I talked about. Somehow, I think I understand what you mean. I also get what you said about writing in general, and I agree, writing is hard work. Still, that “having fun” aspect is really important to me. I’ll try to explain what I mean by it.
A central fact about my life is that I’m naturally “intense”, which is a more romantic word for “tense”. I’m not totally incapable of relaxing, but for the most part, my existence in this world is not defined by peace and relaxation. Somehow, there’s this overabundance of energy and mental activity in me, but whether that’s a negative thing or a positive thing really depends on one thing: joy. The presence or absence of it.
When joy is absent, I become incapacitated. This is not an exaggeration. For example, I can spend hours or days, or even months or years, trying to write a sentence and every word just feels forced and wrong, like there’s this deep disconnection between language and what I really mean. The words just don’t work, they have nothing to do with anything that I really care about. Somehow, it’s hard to even remember what it is that I care about – all the good things are shrouded in fog. When joy is absent, there’s energy in me, but I can’t say I “have” energy, because I can’t use it in a meaningful way, it’s just this cloud of agitation and anxiety. And anxiety seems to be inherently constricting: like its main function is to hide things from you, extinguish all love and zeal and connection. When I’m writing without joy, all the energy I’m putting into it just takes me further and further away from what I’m looking for.
PoistaThis problem is really significant in my social life as well. All the things that I’ve said about relationships being difficult for me – what I’m really talking about is this joy thing. Without joy, all the energy and mental activity in my head manifests as a kind of wall of uneasiness between me and the world. It’s a bubble of neurotic discomfort. Other people’s company just feels like a minefield of potential ways to fuck things up, and I’m just trying to avoid those missteps. Sometimes, with all that effort, I may be able to say the right things and “please” the other person, but the price I pay for that is that I don’t genuinely enjoy the interaction, and obviously, the person I’m spending time with doesn’t really get to meet me, because the version of me they’re seeing is so heavily edited by this free-floating uneasiness.
And then something happens, and joy appears… It may be just a very subtle change in the emotional tone in the heart. And yet, it changes everything. Everything. Joy is like a magic ingredient that permeates that stream of uncomfortable energy and turns it into something I can use. Suddenly, the energy turns into creativity and aliveness. Suddenly, I know what I’m doing and why I’m doing it, and the right words and associations just come to me, so effortlessly. The overabundance of energy stops being a life-ruining problem and becomes a friend and an ally. When this happens, some of the stuff I do and say and write may be really silly, but it’s OK, the “silly” things are often the best things I do.
Socially, I’m probably confusing for this reason. Often, when I meet somebody for the first time, the “newness” of the situation makes it easier for joy to appear, and I can be very lively. “Intense” in a good way. Then I meet the person for a second time, and suddenly I’ve become a solemn, frozen, hidden idiot, because I feel like the other person’s expecting things from me, and the pressure of that just makes it difficult to enjoy the situation. I noticed this again when I was getting to know the other students at the writing school. I hope I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings by being such a weirdo. I actually do find humans fascinating, and I do want to befriend them sometimes.
PoistaI want to learn to get over myself. I want to fix whatever it is that’s making me experience joylessness so often.
Obviously, when one is writing a book, it means having to tolerate quite a lot of frustration and tediousness. It’s not easy, and it’s definitely not glamorous all the time. Besides, anxiety and frustration aren’t all bad, they have their role in the creative process; it’s good to be lost some of the time, and dissatisfaction refines ideas and makes one try again… But there are glamorous moments, too, and those moments are usually the moments when things really move forward. When writing is fun, it is more fun than anything else I’ve experienced in this life. I don’t know if there’s something unhealthy about that, but I guess it’s natural considering the fact that this is my “calling”... When I’m writing and finally manage to get my heart and my head to cooperate, I’m where I’m supposed to be – the whole world just seems warm and alive and exciting, like God has finally forgiven me.
When I was writing the Twilight Spaghetti Western, there were many things I did wrong. All these beliefs and assumptions and ways of doing things that were quite suffocating joy-wise. I think that was really the problem that made the writing so slow and ultimately killed the book. I’m really trying to learn from those mistakes and do things differently this time. Joy is always going to be something that comes and goes, I know that it can’t be here all the time. Still, in a way, I feel like learning to cultivate joy is the big existential “meta-challenge” of my life… It’s the challenge that determines the outcome of all the other challenges.
So, Phineas… How are you doing? And how’s your writing project doing?
PoistaTell me everything.
It made me really happy to read about your good experiences with humanity. Hopefully you’ve had more of them since you wrote your letter. The walks you described sound ideal. I’ve been lucky enough to see hawks up close, too, sometimes even in the backyard of my parents’ house. They’re very impressive creatures. Like the winged equivalent of sharks. (Obviously, I’m talking about hawks here, not my parents. My parents aren’t shark-like.)
Also, thanks for directing me to John Steinbeck’s speech. It is inspiring.
What bugs me is the impossibility of ever knowing what Oscar Wilde’s voice sounded like. What’s for sure is that his voice would come as a surprise. There’s always something disorienting about hearing writers speak.
Personally, I love Aerial by Kate Bush. It’s just existentially right somehow – that crazy celebration of every moment in a day… As a piece of music, it’s also extremely inventive. But it doesn’t shock me to hear it isn’t your cup of tea. Morrissey, who was my idol when I was 16, once said, “The nicest thing I could say about Kate Bush is that she’s unbearable.” In a weird way, I actually get it. If you want to, do tell me what made you not like Aerial!
Lately I’ve been listening to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBRJeD2Y1nY
It’s Bertie; Kate Bush’s Renaissance-style ode to her son, Bertie.
I watched Buona Notte, the short film you mentioned. I loved it. It’s very sweet and somehow ethereal at the same time. I also really appreciated the way the protagonist’s upper body was nervously twitching at around 2:35, because that exact thing is something I’ve experienced so often that I’ve begun to wonder whether I have some weird form of Tourette’s syndrome. It’s nice to see I’m not the only one. I’ll probably check out that other film you talked about, too, Giant Little Ones.
I wish I could give a good answer with regard to which character in Twilight: The Spaghetti Western you’d love. The problem is that presently, my own relationship to the book and the people in it is so complex. They’re people I’ve broken up with and the biggest feeling is just relief, combined with a psychological need to focus on their bad sides. But I think you’d probably have liked the protagonist’s eccentric, depressed poet friend whose way of processing the world was unusual and only slightly creepy… To be honest, in a way, I still love those people. I will always remember the years I spent with them. And yet, for the time being, it just feels good to forget about them.
Once again, I apologize for disappearing. I really enjoyed reading the things you wrote. They made me think and they made me feel good. (The same is true for your latest string of comments in the other blog, by the way. Back in May, I spent a couple of hours just sitting on the balcony and reading them slowly.) I’m really thankful for your friendship. The only reason why it sometimes takes me years to come back here is the fact that I can’t, or at least really don’t want to, respond in a half-assed way.
Years ago there was a screenwriter named William Goldman who wrote a book about his experiences in the trade. One of the things I’ve never forgotten was his attempt to answer the question: how do we know what will work? He said the secret to Hollywood was that “…nobody knows anything…”
VastaaPoistaThat really is where it’s at when it comes to creativity—there’s no magical formula. I was thinking of that when I read about the fellow who thought Twilight was nonsensical. He might be right. Or he may be like the dozens of editors who laughed at Rowling’s first sample chapters…
Again—welcome back.
Mr. Brander—don’t let my first response last night fool you. I’m elated that you’ve returned to write something here. It’s been strange because I knew you were at writing camp, but I felt as though you were still around, that your last response was a couple of days rather than months. It didn’t seem long—and it seemed like an eternity because I thought it was the most isolated you’ve been since I’ve known you, as though you were on a remote island(figuratively speaking, you were on an island).
VastaaPoistaIt helped that I started a job that keeps me very busy. Otherwise I think I would have felt imprisoned, being unable to read anything you wrote.
It’s funny, usually less is more in terms of me wanting to be around people, communicate with them, etc. Jesus, even my intimate relationships have been like that. (“That was great, now I want some alone time.”) But when it comes to you, I can’t get enough of what you have to say. Probably because you’ve written thousands of words and I’ve never been pissed off reading them.
I know I can’t have it all: your thoughtfulness and your proliferation. In your case they are mutually exclusive. I hate it but would hate it more if you were a loquacious asshole.
I miss you when you’re gone, but understand it’s got to be.
I will tell you everything over the next few days.
Two summers ago I reconnected with a fellow who is the son of my Mother’s best friend. He’s about your age and I hadn’t seen him in over a decade. He and his sister came by to see my Mother. We talked for several hours that afternoon—I was fascinated about his job in a shipyard. He was the most impressive person I’d met in person since 2012.
VastaaPoistaSince I hadn’t seen him in such a long time, I told my Mom to invite them for dinner a couple of months ago. He called to cancel because he was ill. I told her we would reschedule.
About a week after I started working, he was driving his motorcycle like a madman was killed after hitting another vehicle.
The writing project never really got off the ground. Just as I got ready to dedicate my soul to it, I started working. My job requires my brain the entire time I’m there—and often when I’m not. That makes it harder — though not impossible— to take on something so ambitious.
VastaaPoistaI’ve not abandoned it — it simply has to be done before I die. But I probably won’t finish it before next spring. I still think about it, and note good ideas when I get them. I’ve got enough to almost finish the first part. One thing I realized about two months ago is that it’s going to be more difficult than I thought, for one reason: I have to put words into historical figures’ mouths. That is not an easy task. I have to be true to who they are while preserving historic accuracy — AND tell the story to the effect I want it told. I’ve always thought I could write dialog, but I’m less sure now, given the parameters I’m setting for it. It’s going to be the biggest challenge. On the other hand, I’ve been able to “picture” parts of it — that is encouraging, and vital. One other point—I’ve discovered that because it’s something with a long ago setting, it’s necessary to put myself in that historic framework. That means considering the manner in which people spoke, and the confines of the time—I won’t be able to make reference to anything occurring after the late 19th Century. No television, no Twinkies, no world wars…
I’m really looking forward to it. I just need some blocks of time…
Olli, I can’t tell you why I wasn’t taken by Ariel. Kate Bush seems like the kind of person I’d like to know. But of all art forms, music is the most hit & miss. There’s almost no valid reason to like or dislike any of it. It’s just personal taste. I always laugh when I hear people argue about what’s good or what’s not. Maybe that’s why we like music—it’s personal to us in some inexplicable way. Even though Bush’s album wasn’t my thing, I’m always interested in knowing what moves you.
VastaaPoistaI’m glad you liked Buono Notte. Not because I liked it, but because I didn’t entirely waste your time by the recommendation. I thought it had a certain level of “sweetness” to it that didn’t seem forced. The fellow talking to his mother before his big night was adorable. And his “teacher” was gentle in a way I really liked. I’m still marveling that it was 8 minutes.
Thank you for indulging my Twilight question. For some reason it was important to me. I’m always looking for people to love, and since I find few actual people that trigger such a feeling, I often settle for the fictional variety.
Merry Christmas. I hope Santa made his way to you in a fulfilling fashion.
I’m happy you enjoyed Steinbeck’s Nobel speech. I found a biography of him online and I fall asleep to it every night—for the past couple months. I like the life he lived in a lot of ways, and am
VastaaPoistareally enamored of his friendship with Ed Ricketts. It blows me away the love he had for his friend, and how most of his ‘friends’ abandoned him after he wrote critically of big business—except Ed Ricketts. It reminded me in some ways of Tennyson’s friendship with Hallam, which just might epitomize the term.
I just watched an interview with the late Fred Rogers.
VastaaPoistaAt one point he said, “We need less information and more wonder.”
It made me think of you.
I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what you wrote recently about joy and what it does for your “process.” It makes a lot of sense that joy would inspire or encourage you in some fundamental way. That might play right into your default mode of intensity— maybe you’re even more intense when you’re happy.
VastaaPoistaI LOVED your explanation of intense being a softer word for tense. I have pictured that practically since we first began conversing. It’s easy to envision you having difficulty putting your mind at ease and relaxing. Somehow, I think that even your best efforts of escaping are no match for your mind’s on switch. I think we have had that in common. ‘Had’ because I am actually capable of total relaxation at times now. But I’m all too aware that it was hardly the case in years past — my brain was never off. I actually blame being single in many ways. It’s got to be a comfort for couples where one knows the other is looking out for them in a way that enables some genuine relaxation.
As for the joy to be found in relationships, I found your take on the whole thing fascinating. Have you ever let down your guard enough where a total stranger got to experience the authentic you—the you that you would desire to be if there were no judgments or expectation involved?
I was also thinking about your comment on the guy’s twitching in Buono Notte, and your similar experiences. I can relate, at least on one occasion in particular. I was shaking so visibly, he commented on it…
Congratulations on the new job! Do you find it enjoyable?
VastaaPoistaAlthough it’s a shame you can’t proceed with the writing project now. The things you’ve said about it are intriguing. Somehow, I assumed you were writing a nonfiction article, but now I’m starting to think it’s clearly something else. It’s also funny because I’m going to be putting words into historical figures’ mouths, too. (Fortunately, they are going to be ghost/zombie/dream versions of themselves, so it’s OK if they are a bit surreal.)
The Steinbeck biography sounds interesting.
What you wrote about the guy who worked in a shipyard is saddening. I was genuinely sorry to read that. What were the things that made him impressive in your eyes?
PoistaWho was the impressive person you met in 2012?
I’m going to answer some questions you asked a long while ago:
Poista“Do you currently have a favorite television show?”
I’m currently (and normally) quite ignorant when it comes to television shows. The last television show I watched was “Leonardo”, a fictional drama whose protagonist was supposedly Leonardo da Vinci. The actor’s – or director’s – idea of Leonardo was “a sexy guy suffering from constant guilt and anxiety”. All in all, it wasn’t very good. But I do love Leonardo da Vinci… He used to buy caged birds just to set them free.
“Is “Olli” your actual name or a pseudonym, and if it is your name, is it pronounced “o-lee” or “aw-lee”? Also, is it shortened or in full-form?”
It’s my actual name and in full-form. I think “aw-lee” is closer to the “correct” way to pronounce it. Here’s the Correct Official Way: https://translate.google.fi/?hl=fi&sl=fi&tl=en&text=Olli&op=translate
Although, I don’t really care whether it’s pronounced correctly or not!
“Do you plan to be vaccinated against SARS-cov-2(assuming you haven’t been already)?”
I’ve already received two vaccinations, and in a couple of days, I’m going to receive the third one.
“Have you ever written any short works of fiction? Other than length, what would you say is the biggest difference between short and novel-length forms?”
I’ve written some short stuff for the writing school. They’ve been assignments that one is supposed to finish quickly (in 45 minutes or so). I’ve surprised myself by enjoying it. Somehow, when there’s no time for perfectionism, writing is easy and fun.
I think that I’m usually at my best when I’m just writing freely and spontaneously, without trying to do something totally extraordinary. The ambitiousness of the books I write is a big problem in this sense.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. Could I relax a little bit? Could I also have a normal life…? In some deep, irrational way, I seem to think that I’m Harry Potter and that the future of the world depends on me. It’s very unhealthy, but it’s a strange belief that has dominated my life ever since I was 16. I care about the world, and I have a lot to say, but in order to say things as well as I can, I really should learn to relax, at least some of the time. And that won’t happen unless I stop taking myself so seriously.
“What would your idea of the “perfect date” be?”
PoistaI think it would be a long conversation characterized by a real connection. A deep sense that meeting and getting to know each other is an adventure and a miracle, a gift from God, something that both of us have been looking for all our lives without even realizing it.
Everything else – location, activities – is almost unimportant. I’d love to meet somebody for the first time and experience something like that, instead of the usual unhappy uptightness.
”Have you ever let down your guard enough where a total stranger got to experience the authentic you—the you that you would desire to be if there were no judgments or expectation involved?”
Yes, I think, for short moments… But that’s rare. Sometimes when I’m drunk, I can be quite “relaxed”, but that’s the Drunk Me, who can also be sort of bullshitty. I’d really love to change this. I’d love to stop isolating myself by being so hidden. At the end of the day, I think the only thing standing in the way of that experience of a real connection is some strange constellation of harmful fears or assumptions or delusions in my head.
“Have you ever contemplated getting a tattoo or piercing?”
After the meditation retreat in 2017, I thought about getting a tattoo that would say “Just show up”. That was the teacher’s advice for situations when motivation for meditation is low: just show up and meditate, you don’t have to be in some particularly inspired state of mind to do it. I found that really useful, for life in general.
“Do you have any daily “rituals” (ex. having afternoon tea)?”
No. But I probably should. My life is fairly chaotic.
“If it applies, do you spend any quality time with any grandparent?”
All my grandparents are dead. Both of my grandfathers died before I was born, and my grandmothers died when I was too young to really get to know them. Both sides of my family tend to procreate at a relatively old age, so the age gaps between generations are quite long. One of my grandfathers was born in 1903. My great-grandparents were born in the 19th century. It’s a bit strange.
“Pick one from each of the two lists of seven adjectives below and tell me—if you are able—how it relates to you:
frustrated
haunted
guilty
sorry
sad
unsure
_desperate_
relieved
blessed
peaceful
blissful
hopeful
_determined_
excited”
I’m definitely feeling sort of desperate at the moment, because I have too much to say and the book I’m writing is becoming too heavy because of that. But I’m also determined to solve this. I’m starting to think I’m actually writing several books at the same time; I just need to figure out which one of them I’m supposed to write now. And then focus on that.
“Hypothetically: if I asked you to send me something that belongs to you to which you attach some significance, but nonetheless would be willing to part with, what would it be?”
Hmm. Now that I think about it, I realize that I actually don’t care about most of the (material) things I own. But there’s a stuffed animal, this raccoon I used to carry around with me wherever I went when I was 3 years old. He’s sitting on my bookshelf, and he is significant, so I’d probably send him to you.
Okay, so…
Poistahttps://obrander.blogspot.com
That’s the secret blog I’ve been writing since 2015. I finally decided to make it public. It’s taken a surprising amount of work, and I haven’t slept a lot, and now I’m feeling pretty exhausted. Tomorrow, I’m probably going to say something about this on the Finnish blog, but I wanted you to be the first one to see it.
Here’s what I would like you to do: pick a post on that new blog and write a comment. Let’s continue this conversation there. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with these old blogs, but I want to start a new era.