Since my story is being seen by more people than I expected, I thought it would be good to give you all an explanation of the what why, and how-- what this story is, why I'm writing it, and how I'm going about writing it. I never did an #introduceyourself when I joined Steemit, so I figure it's fair for me to now introduce my story instead.
For at least five years I've been mulling over writing a novel that would revolve around a fictional drug called Katharax, similar to Xanax except that instead of only making you blackout, it would make you forget things retroactively too. From that original idea, I've thought up a hundred different contradictory plots, and I've started writing at least a dozen times.
Each plot line I came up with got further and further away from my original idea, more and more sci-fi, and I became worried that I'd never end up writing anything, much less the book that I'd originally envisioned. I got so obsessed and so stagnant at the same time that I was making hypothetical cover art for a book that didn't exist. One of those covers you might recognize:
I made it for no other reason than to fantasize about getting the book done-- a book I had little more than a title and a character name for, not even a synopsis.
You see, as each of the new plot ideas came to me, I got attached to each of them for different reasons, and rather than "kill my darlings" I began to think that the book would have to incorporate all these ideas in some kind of synthesis that would add up to a grand, sci-fi epic. Needless to say, that was easier said than done. I felt like I was trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle and all the pieces were from completely different images.
I knew the only way I would ever get the novel done, in any version, would be to just start writing and not stop. Even if I hated everything I was writing and ended up throwing 95% of it in the waste bin, I was never going to think of the whole novel in vacuum. The "A-ha!" moment that I was waiting for would only come if I was actively working toward it, not sitting around on my haunches expecting it to fall out of the sky and land in my lap. I needed to write myself a block of marble. It might look like a shapeless blob in the beginning, but at least I'd have something I could chisel down and edit into a real piece of art.
While I knew that I needed to be writing, it was hard to find the motivation. I have a job, I have a social life, I have other hobbies, and I have an immense amount of self doubt. Why write something no one is ever going to read? Worse, why write something that someone might read and think is terrible?
Fortunately, a stranger introduced me to Steemit, and now this platform has managed to help me get rid of that self-doubt. I posted my first section just after I'd written it. I didn't expect anyone to read it, and I certainly didn't expect to make any money off of it. By some miracle, the good people of the 
I'm telling you all this, however, partly as a disclaimer. I don't want to give you the impression that I'm just pissing in the wind with this story, but I also have to warn you that it will have considerable fluff-- parts that don't add too much to the plot and will later get cut in my editing process. In order to build myself that block of marble, I can't afford to be overly meticulous at the expense of making progress. I have to include everything that feels right to include, without reverting to that jigsaw puzzle mentality that held me back before. I feel like the first eleven parts of this story have already included some questionable tangents, so I felt it was important to take this opportunity to explain myself.
Finally, I'd like to give a recap for those that are just joining me on this journey. I know we all scroll through things so fast that few people are going to want to start something that says PART TWELVE in the title. If you aren't already interested, you're not going to become interested by seeing a much later installment. So, for anyone reading this post that hasn't read the first eleven installments, here's a brief overview....
The main character, Theo, graduated from college then returned home to New Orleans. In New Orleans, he begins to suffer from panic attacks triggered by weed, which was previously a substance he depended on to relieve his anxiety. He has several dreams that appear prophetic, and he becomes convinced that he is getting random, purposeless glimpses into his own future. This conviction bolsters his anxiety, and causes him to think that his panic attacks are not just anxiety based, but rooted in a genuine foresight into tragedy. He goes to a therapist, and he explains to the Doctor something he's only just realized himself-- that he feels like a failure, and this feeling of failure is at the root of his anxiety. At the root of his feelings of failure is his first relationship, which ended when long-distance girlfriend Sarah had an affair which began from taking Katharax and blacking out several weekends in a row. Due to a confluence of circumstances, Sarah followed Theo to college in spite of their relationship ending. Theo wanted to repair things but Sarah didn't, so Theo spent the next several years seeing her constantly, trying to get over her or trying to get back with her, failing at both. The Doctor gives Theo a prescription for Katharax and bottle with a weeks worth of pills. Theo keeps the pills, but he decides he's not going to use them. He feels he has unfinished business in Charleston, and if he's going to "fix" himself its going to be through genuine catharsis, not the "anti-catharsis" promised by those forget-your-trauma pills.
He visits Charleston several months later, but when he arrives he finds that much has changed, and his best friends are caught up in a frightening drug deal gone wrong, which has left one person dead and several acquaintances in jail. Unable to spend the weekend with his hyper-paranoid friends, Theo has to instead spend the weekend crashing at the house of a guy he dislikes, Bobby. Theo spends the rest of the weekend with Bobby's roommates, and feels so at home that he's able to once again smoke weed without anxiety. Enticed by the idea of reliving college and being a part of Charleston again, Theo doubles down on his decision to return. Part eleven ends like this:
"It felt I was a part of the city’s history, and now that I was back I could once again be a part of its future, whatever future that might turn out to be. When I drove back to New Orleans the next day, I knew I would be back, sooner rather than later. I had no idea that I'd be living in that same house, 81 1/2 Rutledge, with Bobby, Marvin, and Joe, and, even I had, I could never have known how profoundly those random people or that shitty old mansion would change me."
That may not sound like too wild of a cliffhanger, but it's because I'm rushing like crazy to get to the next parts, which I think are gonna blow your minds-- so stay tuned!
THANK YOU FOR READING AND FOR BEING A PART OF THIS JOURNEY
P.S.
PLEASE FEEL FREE TO LEAVE COMMENTS AND FEEDBACK! I PROMISE I WON'T DOWNVOTE YOU EVEN IF YOU TELL ME MY WRITING IS TERRIBLE!
P.S.S.
THE COVER PHOTO SOURCE