Wafflitude

The anime series Ruin Explorers has an interesting magical artifact, the "Sword of Sargus." The details are a little vague, but apparently the spirit of a warrior named Sargus inhabits this sword, and without Sargus' blessing, the sword's powers can't be invoked ... and only those who are "pure of purpose" can wield the blade.

It doesn't matter if the purpose is good or evil -- all that matters is that the person wielding the sword is single-mindedly devoted to that purpose. Thus, at the end of the story, Rugudoril, the evil sorcerer-cleric villain of the piece, finds he can't wield the sword, because he is still nagged by his conscience about the awful atrocities he's committed. Prince Lyle, the Aragorn-type of the piece, can and does wield the sword, because his only thought is getting revenge for Rugudoril's devastation of their homeland.

I, I'm afraid, could not wield the Sword of Sargus. I am, much to my own constant annoyance, a waffler. I doubt every decision I make, wonder about all the different possibilities ahead of me, constantly re-evaluate and wonder if there's something better just around the corner. I'm not so bad about it that I can't function -- at least, not most of the time -- but it's still bad enough that I get frustrated.

Take a look at my writing, as a prime example. After all that work I poured into Ethangea, I'm still not satisfied with it. Part of me wants to strip out all of the funky races; part of me wants to add Norse-style giants and dwarves; part of me wants to throw away the big map and start all over again with just a single island and let the map grow organically out of the story; part of me wants to write different things in different worlds; part of me wants to concentrate on a single epic work that can encompass a whole series of novels. Part of me wants to throw all my writing out the window and go play computer games.

Life, generally speaking, far rewards specialization over generalization -- and so too, it rewards definitive, decisive behavior over waffling. Specialization may send you to heights of excellence or it may make you obsolete; generalization always keeps you in the realm of mediocrity. Decisive action may be right or it may be wrong; waffling is always wrong.

At the risk of sounding a bit arrogant, I am smart, and I am capable. If I could just pick one thing, and know without doubt or regret that it was the right answer, and not be plagued with this constant "Wellll ... I'm not sure..." I could go far. I suspect that this may be the most important role of the editor, manager, or agent of many a creative type, the coach of an athelete, etc. -- to give whoever is doing the performance not just knowledge or feedback, but instill them with that burning desire to succeed at this task.

I don't really have such a person in my life; I don't know if I'd be capable of responding to one if I did. I grew up more or less on my own recognizances ... I long ago got in the habit of making my own decision and distrusting those from outside. The honest truth of the matter is that I don't know if I can truly recognize any authority other than my own. So, when my own authority fails me, I have nobody else to turn to. (Those of a religious bent might suggest God; to them I say, "Give me his e-mail address, 'cause I haven't received anything I recognized as an answer from prayers.")

This waffley nature is why I so admire Conan, who is, if nothing else, the epitome of decisive action. He knows what he wants, and he takes it -- and he also knows what he doesn't want, and he leaves it behind. He is sufficient in his own authority. Of course, there's a reason why the Conan stories are called "fantasy." ;)

I am sometimes amazed that I manage to produce anything at all. But the fact that I do, at least, lets me know that there may be hope for me yet.

-The Gneech