Writer's Blog: Get An Annual Physical. Now. Yes, I Know It's Midnight. Do It Anyway.

Chapter 5 and 6 are finally rewritten. I just need to finish debugging the code, and they’ll be released this weekend. I tried to finish Chapter 7 as well to include the three chapters together, but 7 underwent major changes and may still get merged with part of Chapter 8 (I’m working on finding the right cut-off)

Most importantly: I finished writing the new scene with Hope and am satisfied with it! I’d been skipping over scenes with her because, truthfully, writing about a mother talking about a hospital . . . it hit too close to home. Experiencing my characters’ emotions is essential to doing them justice on page, but sometimes that symbiosis becomes reversed. Instead of me, the writer, feeling what Button and Hope felt, I instead started to imbue Button with MY feelings. Every scene I wrote with Hope basically strongarmed Button into playing nice and making up and telling their mom how much they love her. It became more about me processing my own real-world circumstances than in accurately depicting the characters.

Last month, during a routine checkup, my mother was diagnosed with cancer.

I talked to my mom about sharing this, not just because I wanted you guys to understand why I’m now in a different time zone with a more chaotic schedule, but because her prognosis is genuinely good. We figured that she could serve as a sort of PSA to encourage yearly checkups. Doctors are hopeful that it hasn’t spread to her lymph nodes, which means she may not even have to undergo chemo (depending on whether the cancer has spread to her lymph nodes, which they won’t know until she goes into surgery to remove a tumor the size of a golf ball). Cancer still sucks, but it sucks a lot less when the doctor describes it as “completely treatable.”

This is only the case because it was caught early, though! My mom would’ve never realized that anything was wrong were it not for a routine appointment to make sure everything was still functioning as it should (it wasn’t). Yearly checkups are something I have a history of nagging her about (I only have the one parent and thus she’s a Limited Edition). Right now, I feel incredibly vindicated for being a nag.

It’s no exaggeration to say that early diagnosis has saved my mother’s life. So please: get regular checkups. Nag your loved ones, especially if they’re older, to get regular checkups. Be *that* annoying relative that talks about the importance of lump checks over family dinner. It could save a life.

In lighter and more personally embarrassing news, my mom has mentioned wanting to guest author a post now that I’m living with her. Apparently, she finds it amusing to witness me at work. I’m not entirely sure what she means by this, although it may have something to do with the way I cackle maniacally whenever writing a scene where Rosy makes a bad pun (or where Stephanie Valero writes fanfiction). My mom apparently feels that all of you deserve to know the theatrics and facial gymnastics involved in Mind Blind’s creation. I admit this gives me a teensy-weensy pause. But if you can’t joke about yourself, what can you joke about? It’s something to look forward to, at least. (For you, not me. I'll be in hiding until people forget about whatever she eventually writes.)

* * * *

Copied below is a snippet of code that I also posted on the Sanctum Discord. This shows how Hope’s Chapter 5 scene changes depending on Button’s previous choices, using the portion for Buttons who want nothing to do with their mother (there are four other versions with similar amount of internal variation). Needless to say, this negative relationship became hard to write when I was waiting for weeks to hear news about my own mom. Perhaps some writers can completely divorce their feelings from their work, but I bring my emotional baggage to work like a leather briefcase.

Snippet:

“It’s good that he’s breathing without the ventilator,” your mother’s voice says over the speaker. “How is ${Name} holding up?”

*if (Hnope)

*goto missear

*label missear

*if (Hfear)

Your jaw tenses to keep from trembling with an echo of remembered fear. You’ve made it clear to your father and brother that you wish to have nothing to do with your mother.

*elseif (Hfear = false)

Your jaw tenses. You’ve made it clear to your father and brother that you wish to have nothing to do with your mother.

*if (Hblame = true)

For damn good reason, given that she almost killed you.

Yet here you stand, hearing her say your name as if she still has the right to play concerned parent.

[i]She’s never stopped caring, you know,[/i] Nick thinks.

*if (Nick < 100)

You roll your eyes at your brother’s wistful tone.

*if ((Hworst = true) and (Hblame = true))

Over the years, Nick’s made it quite clear that he wants you to forgive and forget your almost-murder, as if the incident in the kitchen were the root of your bad relationship with your mother and not the inevitable culmination of years’ worth of mutual resentment.

*elseif ((Hworst = false) and (Hblame = true))

Over the years, Nick’s made it quite clear that he wants you to just forgive and forget your almost-murder.

*elseif ((Hworst = false) and (Hblame = false))

Over the years, Nick’s made it obvious that he wants you to reconcile with your mother.

*elseif (Hworst = true)

Over the years, Nick’s made it obvious that he wants you to reconcile with your mother, as if the incident in the kitchen were the root of your bad relationship and not the inevitable culmination of years’ worth of mutual resentment.

*if (Habandon)

But if your mother had ever truly cared, then she never would have left.

When it comes to your mother, there’s a good reason that you . . .

*fake_choice

#Keep our weekly phone calls to under ten minutes.  

#Only return her calls once a month.

#Limit our contact to a video chat on major holidays.

#Haven’t spoken with her in over four years.