九羽鳥庵

Write Again and Again, Then Do It Again

I've been starting to write poetry and fanfiction again. It's been about two months since Hollow Knight: Silksong released, and it has quickly become a game that is very near and dear to my heart. I want to replay it, speedrun it, stream it--I want to play it and live in the world of Pharloom forever. I'm unsure if I'll ever return to illustration in any serious capacity though... There's been a lot of upheaval in my personal and professional life, so all of the changes happening at once have been really difficult for me.

I decided to try blogging again, since writing has really been my only solace--perhaps that's why I returned to fanfiction writing again? I've even been taking notes and writing more informal "blog" entries on my MyAnimeList lately. Striking a balance of being with people and being alone has been extremely trying, to say the least. Writing helps me feel...connected in a passive way. I have so much to say all the time, it's difficult not having anyone to share that with anymore. I feel quite a bit like that one pink cat from "The Cat Has Its Heart On The Outside". I wonder if my feelings and writing will have more benefit far away from people, where it can't hurt them.

I suppose I've been doing quite a bit of projection on two specific characters for a myriad of reasons. They not only remind me of many important people in my life, but they serve as an excellent mirror for my own flaws and neuroses.

Spoilers and references to Hollow Knight: Silksong's story begin here.

I suppose it has benefited people, to some degree, as I've written three fics and two of them retread the same idea. Lace, the game's antagonist and final boss as a self-destructive, self-hating, self-harming, suicidal individual that sabotages anyone's goodwill for her. She's lived a life of being terrified of failing to meet expectations,of being discarded--in this way she mirrors her abusive mother and creator's anxious attachment. Her self-worth is defined by her mother, and with her mother gone at the end of the game...who defines her? She certainly has no capability of doing that. How can Hornet, the threat to her safety and sanity, be the one to stay by her side even after she almost caused the death of thousands of innocents?

And then there is Hornet as someone who...doesn't necessarily have endless goodwill, but wants Lace to keep putting up a fight just a bit longer. She feels responsible for Lace, not in a healthy way, but in a way to atone for her own weakness. She was a child who could do nothing but watch when her half-siblings were discarded and created to fulfill the role of an object. She watched her father treat their lives like nothing more than a gamble and she, too, was born from a pragmatic, political agreement. Hornet carries a heavy burden, and she is not a pure, selfless savior for Lace that many make her out to be. She has her own selfish intentions in prolonging the lifespan of another who wants nothing more than to die.

I was surprised that both of these fics were received well, despite the dialogue and general idea being essentially the same. One fic was just longer and explored the ideas in slightly more depth, and the other was a "drabble", which is my writing equivalent of a sketch. Hashing out an idea to see if it's even worth exploring.

I was even more surprised that no one pointed out the similarities...

Spoilers and references to Hollow Knight: Silksong end here.

I suppose my main takeaway from this is that people, or perhaps just fic readers, don't seem to care if you're writing about something new or old, or even rewriting something you've written before. Writing and creating are a matter of repetition. You have to get good at finishing things to even make something. Both contemporary and classic authors started with short stories, dozens or hundreds of them, sometimes retreading the same ideas, and it's all practice.

You write, write, and write. You write that one idea until you get those emotions out, until you can communicate, until you can be vulnerable, until you want to throw up--or you finally create something you can be proud of. Otherwise you die with a billion unsaid words and untold universes within you.

#creative #entry