This year I’ve felt like a mad scientist in my creative lab with many experiments I planned at the beginning of the year. Write one piece of writing a month, post motivational and positive content, grow an entire garden from seed, get stronger and lift heavier weights. Those were just a few of the experiments I worked on all at once. The results were filled with discoveries, breakthroughs, and even sparks that advanced my creativity.
On one side of the lab I was a writing wizard and kept creating all kinds of things. Short stories, personal essays, and even the beginnings of a novel. On the other side I was planting seeds, watering them, and tending to my garden. In the very early hours of the morning before the sun even rose, I worked on my body. Each week I lifted heavier weights, each week it was more food and more work. The other part of the lab was all about social media. I had to post. What was I going to post today? Would it do well? I must feed the algorithm. Would the algorithm like me today? I recorded daily videos and tried to be natural, but I always felt the pressure.
All of the experiments were starting to explode one by one. I kept forgetting one key ingredient while juggling them all. The chemicals splashed onto me, suffocating me, begging for my full attention. Pick me. Pick me. Each one called out. I will make you happy. And so I kept going, running around trying to perfect everything. But the more I tried to do it all, the more scattered I felt, as if oxygen had forgotten how to reach my brain. I was hanging on for dear life, telling myself, I am strong. I can do it. Just keep going.
Until one night, out of nowhere, my novel experiment began to fizzle out. It lost its dim and I began to panic. “No no no. I haven’t spent much time on you. You cannot leave me.”
“You must choose,” it whispered. “Either give me all your attention, or give me none and let me die.”
I wanted to give my writing and my novel my full attention, but deep down I still had doubts, and my inner monsters began to present their case as to why I couldn’t do it. They shouted things like: You’re not smart enough. No one is ever going to want to read your book. It won’t even matter. The story isn’t strong. Your writing is too voicey, no one is going to like that. Save that dream for another lifetime. This version of you cannot handle it.
And for a second I began to believe them. But then I took a break from the lab and sat in silence for weeks. As my mind began to clear, my voice grew stronger and my desires became clear. I must choose, I told myself.
And so I entered the lab again only to find my novel scattered on the floor in pieces. I ran to it and started stitching it back together one piece at a time, bringing life back to it. I spent days on a rough outline for the entire book, leaving room for exploration. I developed character sheets and started crafting scene cards one at a time. I even put together a writing schedule that was realistic with my life. I went all in and started using Scrivener to organize and shape my novel.
But I still found myself a little lost with all the other experiments clinging to life. Do I throw them out all together? Do I bring them along for the ride but tone them down? Or better yet, do I find a way to bridge them and connect them? The truth is, I am not entirely sure yet. I’ve worked so hard on all of my experiments that I am not ready to leave them permanently.
All I know is that right now I will prioritize my writing and stick to its schedule. It will be a process to build that habit, but I am willing to put in the work. And if there is one thing I do well, it is building a habits so I can achieve an important goal. As I transition into this new phase of the lab that is my life, I will continue to remind myself that it’s okay to slow down, to focus on one thing, to rest between experiments. Every mad scientist must learn patience in the space between what was and what comes next.
Thanks for reading! Do you ever feel like a mad scientist in your own life?
Starting September 13, I’ll be sending out a free monthly newsletter with haunted essays, eerie stories, book progress, and the horror things I’ve been loving. Consider it another door into the haunted house of my writing. Subscribe if you’d like to join me.
Dope dope dope!