The Future of Bonesick

Um, define "future"

Ok, admittedly that title is way too dramatic. But let’s give you an update on what I’ve been working on, but more importantly, working toward.

First, a backstory.

“Memory is part of the present. It builds us up inside; it knits our bones to our muscles and keeps our heart pumping. It is memory that reminds our bodies to work, and memory that reminds our spirits to work, too: it keeps us who we are.” — Gregory Maguire, Son of a Witch

Obscure Sorrows

Back in the early 2010s, most of my existence was spent in a gray cubicle where I designed web pages to market t-shirts, toys, and toasters to the American masses on Kohls.com. The internet wasn’t young, but it wasn’t old either, so it still felt quaint. I would workeat at my desk through lunch like a good Kohl’s employee, but sneak in some internet like a rebellious Xennial.

One website I loved with every emo fiber of my Coming-of-Age-in-The-‘90s-being was The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig. Leveraging his love for etymology, he’d construct new words to define highly specific emotions. In his own words:

It’s a calming thing, to learn there’s a word for something you’ve felt all your life but didn’t know was shared by anyone else. It’s even oddly empowering—to be reminded that you’re not alone, you’re not crazy, you’re just an ordinary human being trying to make your way through a bizarre set of circumstances.

While Koenig is in no way a household name, the word Sonder ever-so-subtly permeates our Zeitgeist. Case in point: one of my day job clients snagged it for her salon’s name, quoted the definition on her homepage, doing her part to seal it into our English lexicon.

“Sonder” by John Koenig, author of The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

To revisit the old Obscure Sorrows website today, my heart swells. I’m instantly transported into the nostalgic textural simplicity of Early Twenty-Teens Tumblr. A vibe to be sure. I love that—even though he’s got a real website—Koenig left the Tumblr time capsule to collect dust like a Blackberry in a basement storage tub.

But there’s also something else that lights me up.

It will take the time that it takes.

In the decade after those cubicle days, Obscure Sorrows retreated to the deepest folds of my brain cortex. That is, until November 2nd of 2021, when the memory bubbled to the surface. And I googled it. And I discovered there was a pre-order for the hardcover book that would drop two weeks later.

I purchased three copies. No hesitation.

TWELVE YEARS after Koenig started his Tumblr account, Simon & Schuster published his book, it reached The New York Times Best Seller status and became a pop culture hit for emos everywhere. Who knows why it took the time it did, but it did.

When I recalled this factoid in the shower yesterday, the memory wasn’t attached to my inner Tony Robbins voice: “Keep going! Pursue your dreams! You never know when one day you’ll wake up to success!” Nope, I was more comforted by the fact that this guy had readers like me, from over a decade ago, who probably forgot all about this project until they read an article, walked into Barnes & Noble, stumbled on a “Top Ten Gifts for Nerds this Christmas” listicle, or experienced a random reminder on November 2, 2021 (there’s probably a Koenig word for all of this). People like me waited, without even knowing it, for the real analog thing to exist.

So yeah…
See you in twelve years?

Stuck

If I could describe the past month in a single meme, it’s Pepe Silvia:

You've lost your mind! You've lost your goddamned mind, Charlie!

After I published Act II’s opener, I couldn’t find my smooth stride into the next card in the series (The Hermit)—likely because The End has been so elusive to me. And the further I write without the correct end, well, that’s just a recipe for disaster.

So I grabbed the nearest lantern and hermited myself into a couch cave. For the past month of evenings and weekends, I’ve been staring at notebooks, post-its, phone screenshots, spools of red string, and pushpins, trying to make sense of it all. Get it together, my girl!

So I finally succumbed to technology, by way of Notion and this template for $12. Big Virgo Energy here, folks.

Mmmmmm organization.

And ever since I started dumping everything out of my paper scraps into this digital space, it feels like I’m vacuuming my brain shelves, sucking up dead bugs and cobwebs. With renewed clarity, I’ve come up with all kinds of wild ideas, subplots, plans, and schemes. I’m uncovering The End (rather than coming up with Ends that make me cringe). I can even see the finished product, sliced into its multiple volumes and secret pockets and tucked easter eggs. I’ve also made a ton of Act I edit notes—various aspects of the plot and the characters that absolutely must be adjusted.

And therein lies my conundrum.

Do I work backward at the expense of stalling forward momentum?

Up to this point, I know this project might not seem like a big complex endeavor, but the finished product could be. And now that I see it inside Notion, it feels so much more…well…real.

And also daunting.

Because only I have the power to make it real.

“Zielschmerz” by John Koenig, author of The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

So twelve years, then?

No, no. But maybe. It will take the time that it takes. That goes for me and for you out there, whether you’re working on something epic or just aching to. You don’t need my permission but feel free to give that shit some breathing room. And if you feel paralyzed because you’re desperate to create something different, and how is that even possible when you’re in the shadow of the shoulders of thousands of years of creator giants? Well, never fear, John Koenig’s got one for you.

So I’ll just be over here dumping into Notion, tinkering with Act I, chipping away at Act II’s next card The Hermit (working title: The Room). I’ll show my work when it’s fit for human consumption. I’ll contribute my verse. And I’ll always be grateful you’re here… or there, somewhere in the distant future.