The Great Plague

I get ideas sometimes. 

You never know when inspiration will strike, but it will happen. More often than not, those flashes of inspiration are just random ideas that don’t connect to anything. I’d like to share one of those random ideas with you. 

It’s not good by any means, but feel free to use it if I spark an idea in you.

There’s this theory that Syphilis came from America and brought to Europe, while others theorise that the disease has been latent fin Europe for a long time and it only suddenly mutated into the disease we know today.

The latter one  is just bad storytelling.

I also heard that Native Americans were much more advanced than we previously thought, apparently, a long time ago. They’ve found huge wooden cities scattered across America that don’t fit the description of the nomadic Indian. So I was thinking, Imagine if a disease ravaged the land, much like the black death did in Europe, only, much more devastating. It destroyed Native American civilisation until there were only tribes left. And by then, the survivors had become more or less immune to the disease.

Then came Europeans who had no idea. 

They had sex with the Indian’s and brought it to Europe and then, another plague more devastating than the black plague occur! 

Destroying European civilisation as well. Maybe they go back to their feudal cities? 

So what is this civilisation destroying disease? Where did it come from? 

This is basically how I approach writing, by asking questions. Then I explore them and ask more questions. But whether you should answer them for yourself or reveal them to your reader that’s a different issue entirely, because some things are better left unanswered.

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Kill your Darlings… Ain’t that the truth…

Why is it so hard narrowing down your ideas into a cohesive story?

If you are anything like me, your mind is bombarded with ideas all the time, which is no exception when you write. You want to explore everything; everything is interesting, until you have material for three or four separate stories which has nothing to do with each other but you try to make them into one anyway.

This is my struggle.

On top of that, I’m very arrogant. I believe I can make a story from virtually nothing. You have one of those very vague but cool ideas, you know, which you try to make into something. I didn’t really have to be persistent with this idea because I have plenty where the plot is very clear and I have a clear message which I want to convey… Not this one. I don’t know what’s it’s about or what I’m trying to say, it’s just a cool idea I want to make into something.

I still believe I can make something out of this because I am still arrogant, but it will take a lot of work and I have done too much already to give up now…

Learn to discard ideas, kill your darlings, as they say, which I never believed in but is truer to me now more than ever.

Dreamland

Have you ever had a story so vivid play out in your mind only to disappear once you start thinking about it? The story was so clear and masterful that I wanted to write it down, but in that instance, it’s gone… All I remember is that there was a dragon involved, and sort of a eureka feeling, other than that, it might as well never existed.

It wasn’t a dream, however, because I was awake. I had my eyes close, sure, but I was never unconscious, I’m pretty sure. Perhaps I simply touched dreamland rather delw deep into it?

I believe stories are brought to us from another realm, how else do you explain the things we come up with? Why does words appear when I write and how do they somehow become a story, as if it wanted to come into existence from another place? I just simply have to let go and let it exist, use me as a vessel of its creation.

Which I don’t mind, really, but perhaps some of them doesn’t want to be revealed yet, perhaps I saw into something I wasn’t supposed to? I was thrown out because I revealed myself, I made a noise, or in this instance, I had a rational thought, which doesn’t belong in this realm, in dreamland.

Humans Can Do Anything

Today we have every tool imaginable to do virtually anything. All the resources we can think of to accomplish greatness. That is why we now reach towards the stars, the ultimate frontier.

“We do it not because it is easy, but because it is hard”

-JFK

The same can be said of the ancients. They, with their limits in knowledge and tools, accomplish great feats that still baffles scientists today. We are unable to comprehend their iniquity because the ancients had to work within their limitations. We cannot phantom how they performed brain surgery in bronze age England or how they were able to constructed pyramids with mere stone tools in Latin America; because we are unable to think outside the things we take for granted. Something that took them hundreds or thousands of years to develop, to refine, until they were able to do the things we can do in weeks. Given enough time, humans can do almost anything.

And when we are unable to comprehend, we give credit to aliens, to giants, to gods, because surely, there is limitation to what humans can do?