Honesty Of Thought

 

Hello again Reader,

We’re halfway through February now, and compared to November and January, man has it gone by fast! I blink and three days are gone. I wake up in the morning, I sneeze, and I’m in bed already. Then I close my eyes, and back up I go. We’re headed west now, and we’re running away from the sunrise, so mornings stretch by increments, making me stay up on the bridge as lookout for the entirety of my morning watch.

So, blackness abounds. We’re no longer in coastal waters, so there ain’t a strip of land, much less another ship, in sight, making what is outside (which unless there ain’t any clouds), complete and utter darkness.

That, and the seagoing has gotten a little rougher. I slept in 40 minute bursts for around six hours last night, and man can you tell from my face. I’m all puffy and bleary. Still, I come to you today on 14 Feb. (That is, if I’ve the internet to post).

3-5 should be up and ready for you to read, and man o man whatever might happen? What will the small parley party find aboard the earth-shatteringly ancient, mysterious Optima? Will her ghostly crew haunt them from the darkness, drive them mad; or will they let them search for whatever it is they are searching for? Moreover, who is the master of the Optima?

Some of that and none in this week’s chapter! Go read it and enjoy.

On another note,

Something that’s been rumbling through my gray-matter is the way I write. Especially my main project that is still waiting to be represented by an agent. Double especially something in said project which is lacking. Something I’ve come to understand is in many, if not most, good fiction. I don’t know if it’s a thing with a term already, but I’ve come to call it Honesty of thought.

What is honesty of thought? You beautiful creature inquire. Well, it’s something that I’ve had a severe lacking in, which I’ve not truly dealt with. YET. Or, at least I’m very weak in that department.

I define honesty of thought as the red string, (prose in some sense), that travels through a paragraph’s, chapter’s, and novel’s length. More specifically honesty of thought is when even the ugly ideas of a character are brought forth. The reactions, the emotions (internal and external), and especially those private thoughts we have when we see and experience different things. How does character A associate a bird shitting on his car? Does he remember a family holiday, or coming home from a bad day at work? Does character B even notice the bird shit? Is she instead thinking about that time she had diarrhea in the school bathroom and everyone laughed. Is a character aware of his thoughts, how they connect to his past, or is he blind toward them like – lets be honest – most of us are. In every conceivable way, knowing what a character is thinking truly immerses us and make us like or dislike them.

In fiction this is so necessary in order for you to believe the character, believe them to be real. You can’t just list actions in order from beginning to end expecting to make a story, (well, you can, but it’d be quite dry). Even you (yes, YOU), have thoughts that make you shudder. Make you question if you’re a good person. Make you think: ‘am I insane for thinking like/something like this?’ We all do.

We all go, or at least I hope it is all, on those mental tangents. Those sprints down memory lane to un-shelf a thought that has something to do with the present moment. Sometimes it fades before we get to say it, or it wasn’t something you thought it was. The packaging on that memory didn’t truly describe the contents. Or maybe, you’d forgotten what that memory had made you feel.

If you understood any of this rambling, I commend you. I suspect I’ve more to write on this topic, but my sleep-deprived mind is howling for another nap before lunch, which is in an hour and fifteen minutes.

So, I’ll leave you with this update and little, scattered essay, and of course the new chapter.

Thank you, truly, for your patience and your time.

I’ll see you next Saturday.