Nov the Seventh – Untitled Bigfoot Project (161/224)

Nov the Seventh



Not go’n’a waste any time, I’m getting into this shit now. WHOOP!

…                                     …                                    …

It’s weird. Like, this is my fifth time reading this manuscript, sixth time including the writing. I should know this thing front to back, side to side, and I do. Parts of it I do, but then there are other parts… I just finished the Exordium, and after Albey reads the letter left for him by Iuqon the Mage, he turns it over and finds the series of seven runes. Now I originally called these the “seven cosmic runes of reality” because they each describe a cosmic truth, but Iuqon calls them the “seven astral runes of Existence.” Like, “Existence” with a capital E. I don’t remember writing that. I don’t remember coming up with that, and you know what’s weirder? I had to literally be looking at the book to remember what they were called long enough to write it down in here. Fucking strange, Journal. Like, there are a lot of words in the book, I’m not going to remember them all, but… I’m just going to say this, I’m getting vibes like I’m plugged into something here. Like, in the same way that Albey’s hand is not guided by his own mind when he grips the magick quill, maybe… I feel crazy for thinking this, let alone writing it down, but maybe… maybe something guided my hand as I wrote this book, too. Something… higher.

On second thought, maybe I’m just tired. I’ve been working constantly on this thing, I guess it makes sense that I don’t remember every little detail. It’s just writing, after all. It’s not directly correspondent with reality, it’s just a story. Just a silly story that takes place in a world that I made up when I was a little kid. I wonder how I came up with The Hillside Commons… like, the Dark Tower books played a huge role, obviously, but as for the name itself… I don’t know. Just kind of popped into my head, I guess. Like the idea for writing a novel about bigfoot, sort’a.

‘Man, writing is weird. Life is weird. What the fuck are we even doing here, like, what the fuck is a human? I don’t know. Nobody really knows, I don’t think. We’re just kind’a here doing what we do. The grass is just kind’a green. The wind just kind’a blows. Stephen King just kind’a wrote the Dark Tower books, and I just kind’a wrote The Face of Fear. Probably better not to think too much into it.

Anyway, I just wanted to get that off my chest. Weird how I haven’t noticed the “astral runes” until now, but uh, like I said. Probably better not to think too much into it, lest I start believing my own writing has some higher prophetic significance to my life. No fucking thank you lol, had enough of that nonsense that day in August… or was it September? I don’t even remember.

No wonder I don’t remember the details of my novel, my memory is fuckin’ shot lmao. Anyway, I’m gettin’ back to it now. Fo’real this time. Not go’n’a do the whole thing in one day because the proof copy got delivered in the afternoon, but I’m going to get at least halfway done before I go to sleep. So, yeah. Fo’real. No more distractions. I obviously knew what I was doing when I wrote it, otherwise I wouldn’t have written it. Yeah. Gettin’ back to it.

…                                     …                                    …

Say thankya, Journal. ‘Preciate ya. Long days and pleasant nights~

This has been the next journal entry from Untitled Bigfoot Project. Here is everything you need to know about it:

Untitled Bigfoot Project

I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.

The Hillside Commons has a Facebook page. Here’s that.

If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~

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