Today marks nine years since my first public announcement of my surviving. I made that sound mildly hyperbolic, I assure you that I am downplaying for dramatic effect.
I will recap the day even though I think I did a decent job describing it in my book for those of you who have not read it yet.
Basically, as far as the world outside of my direct circles were concerned, I died on or around my 25th birthday. Imagine the confusion when I post on my FaceBook “Alive and kicking in Hamilton”.
What I don’t think I have discussed, that was a bit of black humour, on my part. I was already fit with a wheelchair. In fact, at that moment, I was still considered a quadriplegic. The simple message I sent to my friends and family took me almost an hour to construct. Yes, I had most of my arm functions back, but I was still sloppy and shaky as I acclimatized to the situation. There was still a fair amount of shell-shock, regardless of the fact that I had been conscious for the last four months.
After nine years, I have to thank my family and friends who have stuck by my side. I have to thank the few people who keep reading my updates. I have to thank the people who have bought my book and read it. I have to thank the people who haven’t given up on me.
That was a kind of trick. I really do not have any answers on finding inspiration, or on how to cope with the reality that you have to continue to exist without any.
One trick that I have discovered is to just kind of write with nothing in mind and see what happens. Maybe mess with grammar and formats to see what kinds of actions jog the creative streak. Of course, I am talking about writing in this instance. I have no clue how to cancauct creative stive in other feilds.
Oh! Another path I tend to lead myself down is to flex vernacular waves and push myself to expand what I think that I comprehend. Yes, I did just write that sentence to flex. Fight me.
Something I have been struggling with, as of late, is having a lot of things going on all at once, but not having anything concrete for a single one of them. It is fun, but also very stressful.
I have been going to bed earlier over the last few days, and starting my day similar. I’m not a fan.
I always hear about this magical life regarding starting the day early. I have not found the same majesty that other people have promised. I get roughly eight hours every night, but I find that the day drags.
Maybe it is because I am self employed, maybe it is because I am on other people’s schedule. I find that the hours between nine and one are a slog. I have even started exercising earlier to maybe kill the time. I have started writing earlier. I have started research and reading stuff that I usually struggle to fit into my day.
I am doing all the things I would normally stretch over the whole day in a matter of two hours. I understand that the point of starting the day earlier is to get everything done, but I am now just packing more into my day to HOPEFULLY kill the few hours I have gained. It is boring, lonely, and kind of irritating.
I think I need to make a change again. I seem to have a huge life-changing event every few years, and I have lived in the same place for the last two years.
I have been querying my next novel to a few agents. I hope that I have a response some time soon. On that note: if you know of or are a literary agent, please contact me somehow. I have been trying to do things myself, but I am sure that my methods are the wrong way. Using search engines to find a very niché kind of agent is probably the wrong way of doing things.
To get back on topic: I think that the extra time I have created for myself is making me impatient. I hit refresh on emails damn-near constantly, even though my phone would tell me if I had something that requires my attention.
Happy Holidays! I hope your day has been/is fantastic!
Yes, I do say happy holidays. I am not Christian, and am also extending my blessing to everyone who has a reason to celebrate.
I am going to have a video prepared for the end of the month or early next year, but I wanted to remind everyone to have a safe New Years. I feel like an overbearing parent saying that, but I have lost a friend or two every year due to excessive or stupid partying.
I don’t want sympathy for that point: I just want you to be safe and as awesome as you want to be.
Also, did anyone actually do their resolution from last year? Mine was to survive the year, so I think I did okay. If you did not succeed, that’s okay! Most people don’t make it, and life is hard; especially right now.
Here’s to a fucking great 2023! Or, a somewhat more decent 2023! Remember: don’t touch anything and keep your voice quiet. I am taking a risk in jinxing it, and no one else should pile on!
I just made the realization regarding how long it has been since my last actual blog post, and not just me advertising the vlog and whatnot. (while I’m on the topic, please subscribe)
Allow me to take your time to remind you that my book is available on Amazon and a few other places.
If you have already picked up a copy, please remember to leave a review! Even just some-number-of-stars and no text is fantastic. It really does help the recommendation algorithm, if such a thing exists. Plus, if I sell just 3000 copies, I can afford to release my next book, which is already complete! Also, I started another one. So, that puts my current list of WIP’s to 3, which is both intimidating and awkward, yet interesting and exciting!
Anyway, I will be taking the rest of the year to catch up on stuff and HOPEFULLY get my shit together.
Have a great festive season, and may your New Years be exciting (in a good way).
I recorded this because I got thinking about how we put too much pressure on ourselves to be the best at things we claim to love. We seem to forget that we love something because we love it. If you love something, there should not be a goal, unless what you love is the goal. There is nothing wrong with getting better, but your attachment should not be based on skill.