Going through the lessons of life is like going through the seasons. They change us from within, and we evolve and grow from the experiences. We come out a little different after each one, seeing the world through a modified lens.
After I’ve gone through a trial or a tough experience, I tend to look back on it. Although each person will view their experiences differently, my overall outlook is: what can I take away from them?
Each of us go through a variety of challenging experiences, and sometimes they can seem almost random, coincidental or like a chain of events that have accumulated to its logical conclusion. But after they occur, I normally reflect on what happened to see how I could’ve reacted or proceeded differently. Often times, I will find a better way that I could have, because, as the saying goes, hindsight is 20/20.
But more than that, I realize that my knowledge and experience of the world is limited, restricted to a particular time and place in the universe. With each new experience, I’m improving in some way, whether that be in terms of knowledge, character, or in understanding how things are, how things work, revealing how little I knew to begin with.
We all handle new situations differently. For me, I have to process it before I respond or react in a way that I think is the most optimal. For some, they react as if they know what to do instantly, as if it’s intuitive or second nature to them.
It depends on the situation of course. It could be one where we have to give a talk in front of a large group, or where we have to be in charge and be the leader in a new and unfamiliar situation. Or it could be going to a social gathering where we don’t know anyone. Depending on our experience and personality determines whether we will start striking conversations with people at random or feel awkward and want to leave.
But the more new situations we come across in our lifetime, and the more we experiences we have, we will start to build a toolkit of dos and don’ts and hows for various situations, which is our go-to when new situations arises.
Sometimes I’ll read a book halfway through before moving on to the next. For some reason, after the halfway point, it’s difficult for me to progress and finish a story. Whereas in the first half of the book, I could easily read 20 pages or more in a single sitting, after the halfway point, I might read 5 pages at a time.
Then I’ll start another book, and the process will begin all over again. I’m not sure what it is about the halfway point where I feel like I’ve reached the end when I’m only halfway through. Part of it is that my focus (and interest) will begin to wane, and given how many other books I want to read, my focus will drift to the others.
Some of the stories I’ve finished have felt like a marathon. It’s like a push (or race) to the finish line, where I know I’m almost at the end, but I have to mentally tell myself to keep going. It’s one of those things where I just have to tell myself “just a few more pages,” and say it on repeat. If I do it enough times, I’ll make it to the end.
There are times when it’s easy to focus, and other times where I feel like my brain is scattered and all over the place. When I’m focused, it’s like my mind is on a mission, and nothing can distract me no matter how noisy everything else is. But when I’m unfocused, it’s as if every little thing grabs my attention, where my focus can easily shift at a moment’s notice.
One thing I do to recalibrate my focus is to create a list of goals. I then prioritize which I will accomplish first, and the steps I will need to take. It’s as if the motor of mind is waiting for some direction, and the only way to put it into gear is to have an action plan in place.
If not, I will be lost, aimlessly drifting from one thing to the next. But sometimes my mind will naturally recalibrate itself when an unexpected situation arises. For example, if something suddenly needs to be repaired or fixed, or if I’m inspired to write a story or novel.
The habits that are continuous happen out of necessity: eating, sleeping, working, waking up, etc. But the ones we’d like to be continuous, such as our pursuits, can often be discontinuous, despite our best efforts to keep them consistent. For me, that can be writing or reading daily, and for someone else, it can be painting, drawing, composing music, etc.
That discontinuity can happen for a number of reasons: losing interest, a change in schedule, pursuing/learning a new skill, etc. It can also be the result of burn out, exhaustion, or simply needing rest. But without that discontinuity, a pursuit can end up being dull and humdrum rather than one that stems from excitement or curiosity.
It’s why we can look forward to the weekend after a long week of work, or want to take a vacation after months of work, or learn/try something new. Continuity is good for honing talents and skills, but without discontinuity, our pursuit can end up being unexciting and mechanical in a way in which it’s no longer creative or exciting. It’s like taking a break from a novel/story after writing it for weeks or months. Once a writer returns to it, they see it again anew.
After finishing a novel, I feel mentally exhausted, creatively fatigued. It’s like there’s nothing left in my mind to conjure up, and my will seems all but spent. I wonder if I can write one more story, if I have enough energy to create another world or another plot. And because of the fatigue, I tell myself that I’m content with the last story I wrote, that there’s no need to put one more story out there . . .
But sooner or later, the yearn to write takes on a life of its own. It’s as if a quiet and unexpected idea, story, curiosity–whatever it is–needed to exist for its own sake. It’s like it existed in another realm independent of us, and out of nowhere, it zapped us, calling on us to write, to bring it into existence.
One more story can be like wishful thinking in a way, because it’s harder than it sounds. If we paused to reflect on the grueling work it would entail, especially the countless hours of planning and writing and rewrites and edits, we might reconsider. But to create or pursue anything worthwhile, whether it be a book, a painting, a song, etc., requires a leap of faith so to speak, a nosedive into the unknown.
As time goes on, it dawns on me that time is finite, not infinite. Although it would seem obvious that time is not infinite, we can lose ourselves in experiences that make it seem that time is infinite, such as our hobbies, or spending countless hours listening to music or watching movies. During those musical or cinematic experiences, we’re not even aware of time passing, but rather, we’re transported elsewhere as if time doesn’t exist in the place we’re at.
But when we come back to reality, we become aware of time again, the marching of the clock as it winds down to evening and then morning. It’s like experience itself isn’t quantifiable, but the quantification of time seeks to impose itself on experience as if it should be contained and timestamped.
It’s this duality of subjective and objective time where one seems to be right and the other wrong, and vice versa. Subjective time seems infinite whereas objective time is not, and somewhere between the two, time doesn’t really care, as it sees everything as just passing by and moving along.
In The Cast-Iron Owl, the story features a roadtrip in which the mother, Jane, and her daughter, Mary, drive across the country to Colorado. When determining all the stops for their roadtrip, including what states they’ll pass through, it was something that took a considerable amount of time and research to figure out.
Even after I had determined what states they’ll stop at, I had to figure out which cities/counties/towns they’d find a motel in, and what the geographic landscape of those states were like. I would imagine it’s similar to filmmakers scouting locations for a film, figuring out the logistics of getting there, not to mention what the conditions and the environments are like. It’s one of those things that seems easy and straightforward on the surface, but actually takes a lot of planning and research.
In addition to the figuring out the locations, I had to plan out how long the drive would be from one place to the next. Given that the story is set during winter, I knew that snow or rain could be a factor (not to mention the cold), so I had to look into the climate as well.
If the story had taken place during the summer, it’d be a lot easier to plan out, since I needn’t worry about the cold weather or the potential for snow. But given that it does take place in the winter, I had to factor that in, including how often it snowed or rained in those places, when I planned out the roadtrip.
The nice thing about writing roadtrips is that it gives the characters plenty of opportunities to have long conservations as they travel, as well as the chance to visit new places. It’s similar to a story where characters are traversing across different countries or landscapes where they face unseen obstacles. The fun thing about writing roadtrips is that it lends itself to the unexpected and to startling encounters. On a roadtrip, even though it can be perfectly planned, there’s no guarantee that it will go as expected.
I’m excited to share the release of my newest novel: The Cast-Iron Owl.
Click the book cover to watch the book trailer (on YouTube) for the novel.
The Story
The Cast-Iron Owl is a supernatural thriller about a mother and daughter who find an antique cast-iron owl at a thrift shop. The daughter, Mary, can hear a bell-like sound emanating from it, and she begs her mother, Jane, to buy it. Jane is reluctant since she thinks it’s overpriced, but soon, they will discover that there is something ominous within the cast-iron owl that will change the course of their lives.
Book Cover Design Process
It took several iterations to create the final book cover that you see above. What’s interesting is that at each step of the process, I felt satisfied with the result I had, only to feel like I had to continue modifying it since it seemed inadequate. The process to arriving at the final book cover was a gradual one–one that was the result of countless adjustments and meticulous changes that led to a design where I felt that any additional changes was no longer necessary. Or to put it another way: any additional changes would only lead me to undo them.
Writing the Story
The idea for the story occurred to me over a year ago. It’s one of those concepts where one thing happens that leads to a chain of events that spiral out of control. It took awhile to work out the premise and concept behind it, although actually writing the story didn’t happen until much later (once I had a clear vision of the story, much like a filmmaker who has a vision of the look of their film).
When I first wrote the story, I wanted it to primarily focus on the point of view of the mother and daughter. However, as I started to edit it, I realized that I needed to tell the story from different points of views to show the impact of the objects on the other characters.
Another thing that required a lot of planning was the sequence of events. Since the events can sometimes overlap on certain days, I had to organize and plan out how one event at one location would affect a character(s) at a different location. It took some time to straighten out all of the details, but in the end, it will read seamlessly as if the events are occurring naturally.
Where to get The Cast-Iron Owl
The novel is available for pre-order on the Kindle, and it will be released on 8-16-23.
When I write a story, it can go off on a tangent where it will go down a path that I hadn’t originally planned. It was as if the characters were steering me in that direction through the dialogue and through the logic of their motivations. Sometimes, the result can be better than I expected. What I had originally planned was just okay, but the tangent it went off in was a lot more exciting and original.
Often times, I welcome tangents while I’m writing. However, it’s possible for a tangent to stray too far from the plot. But when tangents do work, they feel organic and natural, something that I wouldn’t have discovered unless I allowed myself to be in the zone and immersed in the story. Tangents can also happen with dialogue where a character will say and reveal things that are a surprise for both the writer and reader. It was as if the process of writing itself made it come to light instead of in the planning stages.
Tangents can also happen when the plot veers off in a different direction. When I notice this happening, I let it take its course to see where it goes. Sometimes it works, and other times, it seems like it’s sidetracking the plot. But as a writer, I allow them to happen since it can be exciting to discover secrets within the plot that I hadn’t even known.
Fallton Havenstonne 