Discordianism has finally crept into the writing of my novel, Tigers On Vaseline. There were sprinkles of it before, such as mentions of Emperor Joshua Norton I, and basic anarchistic thought, but now the entire novel is being reinterpreted through Discordianism.
What I mean is this, up until now, on every go I gave writing the book I have held back. I have held back how I would like to write certain parts, I have held back certain descriptions, I have held back certain revelations about key characters and I have held back on fully enjoying myself while writing.
The reasons for the reservations were a fear of being labeled as ‘pretentious’ or ‘artsy-fartsy’, worrying what my friends would think when they read parts, or over-thinking how a publisher and/or agent might react to this part, or that part. The idea of how the novel will be received by others has always been foremost in my mind.
Now, however, I am writing the book how I want to write it, and everyone else be damned. If it doesn’t get published, it doesn’t get published, it’s not the end of the world. I would rather have a book I wrote, and loved, which never got published, than a book that got published, but that in retrospect could have been me, but was not.
My pineal gland has shown me the way.