All the blogposts I’ve known before

Just wondering if I’m the only blogger who has this problem.

Picture it: I’ll have this brilliant idea for a blogpost- usually it will come when I’m in bed ready to fall asleep. Inspiration will hit and in 15 minutes the whole post would have been written out… in my head. Then I fall asleep.
The next morning I will recall vaguely what I had been thinking the night before but since I’m a notoriously lazy person I’d be too indifferent to further recall the blogpost from my head and transfer it onto paper. And there goes another potential blog hit generator, lost forever in the recesses of my mind.

The sad fate of some posts... [Luigi Diamanti/]

The sad fate of some posts… [Luigi Diamanti/]

Sometimes blog post drafts ‘get lost’ or discarded for other reasons. Usually the post would have been written out (I like writing things out by hand before transcribing it onto Word processor) halfway but then life happens, I get distracted and I leave it aside waiting to finish it later. More often than not this does not happen; it never makes the finish line.

This happens for either of two reasons:

  • 1) the post itself might lose its relevancy due to the time lapse/procrastination on my part and I therefore lose my motivation to finish, so I just scrap it.
  • 2)And other times I realise that when I initially started writing the post, the idea for it was governed by my emotions not my head(this is mainly the case with rants). When I then look at the unfinished post later, I’m much calmer and I have a change of heart. Perhaps taking my anger out on that stupid writer/blogger/friend/tweeter on my blog is not such a good idea. So there’s another draft scrapped.
And you guys thought I made up shit on Twitter. See, I speak real-time truths.

And you guys thought I made up shit on Twitter. See, I speak real-time truths.

The perfect example of (2) above happened just last week. I might as well tell you beforehand that the English Department at the University of South Africa (UNISA) has been giving me the shittiest time this year. Immediately after my exams a couple of weeks ago, I wrote an extremely, LOOOONG letter addressed to the Department expressing my dissatisfaction (I haven’t emailed it yet, I’m waiting for them to mark my exam paper first). The length of the letter(nearly 5 pages) is an indication of the number of separate incidents I had with them. Given that in all my years studying through UNISA I had never experienced anything like this, I felt compelled to lay a formal complaint.
To further express my ire, I thought I’d blog about it too. I started drafting out the post with much vehemence when suddenly I get the news that our beloved Madiba passed away. Thinking about him made me re-evaluate my feelings and check my temper. I put the post away and proceeded to write the forgiveness post. Just for the record, I will still be sending that email to the English Department (possibly leaving out some angry bits) because incompetence and injustice needs to be dealt with. But I’ve since eliminated the idea of ranting about it (this doesn’t count does it? Oops).

So here’s a special tribute to all my blogposts that have never seen the light of day. Really sorry you did not get to experience the fame, but hey, better luck next time!

So will someone please tell me that all this resonates with them so I don’t feel like the strange Muppet that I am?

NM 🙂

( Because I get such a kick out of irony I even considered not publishing this blogpost, HA! Twisted, I know. )

Art imitating art – I didn’t know, I swear!

The strangest thing happened to me the other day.

I am currently reading The Monk by Matthew Gregory Lewis and I came across a narrative within the book that gave me the chills. It freaked me out a little not only because it was a bit scary but because it bore a striking resemblance to one of my own stories.
I state for the record that I have never read the Monk before nor did I know what the story was about beforehand. All I knew was that it was written during the 18th century and was set in a monastery. I was completely ignorant of any subplots. The narrative I speak of belongs to one of these subplots. As I continued to read this part I kept thinking: God, this sounds just like Crossroad Inn!

This got me thinking about the concept of ideas and the collective human conscience. Now we all know that there’s no such thing as an original idea. But there is something disconcerting about the thought of coming up with an idea only to find that someone had already beaten you to it centuries before. Disappointing if you’re an inventor but disconcerting if you’re a writer. I’m not going to provide you with an essay on plagiarism but I will say that I take comfort in the axiom that there’s no such thing as an original idea. It is the employment of that idea that matters and what will be analyzed if you ever are slapped with a lawsuit.

But is it possible for two people to come up with the exact same idea and treat this idea in a very similar manner without either of them being aware of it? We have heard of thoughts being transferred through telepathy, prayers and spells but what about thoughts in the form of ideas? Off course I’m not saying that Lewis sent me this idea from beyond the grave (because as honoured as I would feel, it would seem impudent of him to have chosen me as his recipient), but can concrete ideas travel through the collective human conscience and attach itself to more than one living being, without this attachment being influenced by a prior incident or factor? If so then I find this quite scary.
Before you consider me a drama queen, I have entertained some rational explanations for my poor Crossroad Inn. I might have read something that was influenced by the Monk and somehow the idea came full circle. The truth is I forgot how I came up with the idea for the story in the first place so the reason might actually be more mundane than metaphysical. Still, it doesn’t take away the surreal-like feeling of this situation.

Has this ever happened to you? Have you ever written a story, novel, song or poem and then read something much later on that bore a resemblance so uncanny to your work, it defied natural coincidence?

And just for you, I’ve pasted an extract from The Crossroad Inn for you to read, and no, it was not inspired by Matthew Lewis’ The Monk! 😉
Click on the My Stories page above.