Month: October 2022

Blogging first thing in the morning is good–unless you wake up cranky, which immediately makes that morning blog bad. However, I started the thing, so here we go.

I’ve been thinking about three key aspects of this brief human life: State of mind, physical health, and mental health/outlook. The three are tied together. State of mind may be key in all of them. I woke up today with an extremely negative outlook. I expected my partner to be sullen and distant. I expected that there would be a modicum of work that needed to get done. I expected the kids to be groggy, distant, and generally dissatisfied. I expected that my real estate situation would remain in a strained limbo. All of these expectations built upon a limited night of rest, which built upon a day in which my brief moments of joy were tempered by what was, essentially, a horrible day.

I did not expect knee pain.

So, when I woke up in pain and already teetering on the edge of a bad mood, the pain thrust me over that edge and I began rolling towards where we are now, which is a man waiting for more shoes to drop, more stones to be cast, and more clouds with a likelihood of meatballs.

Some Thoughts:

1. Lost in all of this desperate sadness is the fact that I located my missing novel! So, I can get back to cleaning that up and putting it out in the world.
2. Also lost is the fact that I am very close to knowing the plot for the new one.

Been experiencing a deluge of internet problems that only point more and more towards the gremlins being back. I don’t want them to be back, but it isn’t really my call, is it? Perhaps my present state of mind on the situation is driven more by a lost novel than anything else. A few years back (2018-19) I was writing a novel about a young shadowrunner being recruited into the Smoker’s Club. I wrote quite a bit of that novel and then lost it. 

The situation stemmed from me spilling champagne on the computer. Or perhaps it was the time it got ran over by a car. It was definitely one of those two. Or maybe it was lost on a specific computer that I couldn’t get to turn on again.. four years and I’ve yet to discover where that novel went. Only recently have I located the chapter outline, which only reminds me more of how much I lost.

It goes to show you: reality doesn’t care what you think it is. It simply is.

Watching the Iowa State game vs. #20 Kansas State as I write this blog. KSU is winning by one, and the game is engaging. The internet makes the experience choppy, as it cuts out when someone else joins the network. I’m learning about the limits of the network in form I’ve developed it. I don’t really have a full understanding of the capabilities of the Nighthawk system, but I know enough to know that it is not enough right now.

The Cyclones are wearing the black uniforms in this critical home game. The black is not new as of the last ten years but new as in post my involvement with the program. Lately I’ve been struggling with the idea of time. New reflects a lot of things, but most of all it reflects how old I am in comparison to how old, mentally, I want to be. Perhaps I am always going to be in my early 30s even as I stumble towards 50. That number is a terrifying one.

Yesterday I played with the kids for over an hour and today I am sore. That is what it feels to be old. Sore, past your prime, mentally run down, over worked, and desperate to have a taste of virility back. At least, that is what it feels like to me.

I am having bad internet issues so I am writing this on a doc with hopes of posting either later or tomorrow. My computer woes as of late conjure the long-buried fear of gremlins that plagued me for most of my life. Once a year or so I would suffer complete computer/electronics failure. This would happen at the worst time, though there rarely is a good time for such things. However, now that I think about it, this has been happening quite a bit over the years. I’ve lost laptops. I’ve lost novels on laptops. These things happen regularly enough that it terrifies me to think about what happens if the gremlins return in strength…

Some Thouhgts:

1. My first born is shining. He’s having a great time in college and linking up with old friends while making new ones. I had my first chance to visit him in his new natural habitat and it went well. We played outside in the cool mountain air and talked and chilled and had a really good time overall. He’s happy and that makes me happy. 
2. I am out of shape. I’ve said this before, but trying to play basketball with college kids as I near 50 is a very very sad place to see yourself.

I’m in a bit of trouble right now. In one league my team remains the highest scoring team in the league but sits at 2-2 and presently out of the playoffs. In another I can see the end nigh. I’m 3-1 but the top team is so far beyond my average ppg that I have no chance of beating them this week… or any week. The need exists, unless I can stay locked into second and, as a result, get second in the league overall having avoided them until the championships. In the final league–the family league–I am undefeated. Yet I fear the streak will inevitably end. I have holes. I have holes at TE and WR. I am working to address the holes, but dang it if I’m not too nervous to trade one of these backs away.

The Giants and I have a lot in common. We are both punching above our weight and we are both headed into legitimate matches this week. Hopefully we both come out on top. I plan to be up bright and early to enjoy my Gints locking up the Pack. Odds are there will be some Wrs open. Odds are the entire defensive gameplay is STOP Saquon. Fortunately that hasn’t worked for anyone yet. Hopefully it doesn’t work on Sunday in London.

Some Thoughts

1. Stop reading reviews before you see the film. Think for yourself! yes, they may be hard to ignore, but they will taint the experience for you. They will…

I don’t have enough writer friends to know if this is natural, but every time I start new writing I find myself wondering if I still have it in me. It isn’t always the same thing. Often it is about the ability to tell stories in a compelling way—the nuts and bolts of crafting effective sentences. Other times it is about not really feeling I have a story left to tell. Both feelings are driven by the anxiety of often not thinking I am a very good writer. My confidence in my words has deteriorated considerably over the decades. I went from being the next Stephen King to being the next Sam Hismadi. Who is that? Exactly. 

A growing lack of personal confidence can be seen as central to my present life issues. I just don’t know if I believe in me anymore. It stems from a combination of abuses/abusers as well as failures on my part that followed me into new relationships as well as professional situations. Oh, and I am getting old. I know that plays a role. I just don’t know quite how.

It is 6AM and I am sitting in a breakfast shop with my laptop searching for some semblance of what it meant to be a writer long ago, as well as what it means to be a writer now. Often I feel so caught up and run down by life’s daily experience that I don’t take the proper time to mediate upon the gift (and escape) that is writing. Instead I dwell on the simpler and more immediate pleasures—a three minute game of Solitaire or Clash Royale repeated ad nauseum until I’ve won enough to offset the grief of the losses; a game of Madden against a frustratingly talented CPU that makes me feel (just a little bit) like I’ve built something in a system I didn’t personally create—thus winning by someone else’s rules. 

All of this low hanging fruit distracts and sustains me through a daily life that more and more feels like treading water until I eventually drown. There has to be a better way. There has to be a way to feel good and to feel alive without the artificial life support. When I was younger and writing with confidence, that is exactly how I felt.  

Some Thoughts:

1. Waiver Thursday then?

Spent time watching the new Wakanda Forever trailer and recognized yet again how Marvel’s agenda of turning every Superhero in to a woman has infiltrated this as well. Only this one feels different. Wakanda has always been about strong black women. It was the thread of the first film and of the preceding comics. Now with the focus on Ironheart and Shuri, that vision continues. I’m not really mad about it here. In truth, it has been accompanied by good story in most of these transformations. Hopefully that continues.

Some Thoughts:

1. When writing in a shared world, some writers choose to take ownership over the world and shape it to their desires and vision. I do that. It is hard when others who do that have a vision I, for the life of me, cannot see a reason to exist. This is not the way, but I will try to maintain a sense of self and vision in the chaos.
2. Fantasy football talk tomorrow, which means it will be Wednesday. This week has flown by quickly.
3. House sales suck. The entire process is about the buyer screwing you just enough so you can both feel okay about the interaction. I’m in a position where I am not getting what I’d call a win, and I am merely waiting until it is over.
4. Falling dangerously behind on writing this week. I’m just completely out of sorts.

Recently, I asked my partner the question: Why are most military novel antagonists and tricksters democrats? I was thinking about it in relation to Jack Carr’s The Terminal Man novel. The book casts the good guys as macho men, tough guys with very hot blonde wives, friends, and allies. It casts the bad guys as corporate dweebs, pencil pushers, and, to a person, democrats. The political divisiveness present makes me, not a republican, feel like I’m being lumped in with some nonsense. The us vs them separations and the generalized feeling that republicans are the only real Americans resonates throughout the text. It bugs and I wondered why.

She told me it is because of who the military lifers generally are, and damn if she isn’t right. Even the ideas of patriotism are often drawn in the us vs. them columns, leaving many who serve in the military to be recruited from places that are right-leaning. Left-leaning places are therefore only amplified as being the other when you have that many like-minded individuals and such a diligent command structure.

This is one of the many things that don’t tend to translate into my writing when developing future-leaning projects such as Shadowrun. Political divides magically disappear, because I am not forced to consider them. I think that, on the whole, it makes my writing less realistic, because I am not dealing with those things in any meaningful way. As I script out the next novel and next short story I find myself thinking that I need to lean in vs. lean away and truly tackle some of these concepts in a way that is reflective of the corporate dystopia we’ve created.

Been thinking about death a lot lately. Maybe it is because I’m recognizing that I’m getting old and this journey will eventually end. It scares me still. Some days I think about rushing towards it. Others I am fighting to stay away from it as long as possible. It changes a lot and that has everything to do with the people I am around and the mental condition I am in. Honestly, I don’t think I am my best self mentally. I hope I can recover to some version of that self I am comfortable with. This version simply isn’t it, and I am deteriorating in multiple ways.

So, I need to get right. I need to do It sooner than later. I don’t have forever… that much I’ve figured out.

Some Thoughts:

1. Just saw an incredible Toyota commercial. It really moved me. The beauty of it was they didn’t even feature a new truck. It was about a very old hand me down, and a voice mail from the driver’s father.
2. Sis in law just left. It was good to see her. She’s a lot, I love her, and… she’s a lot. I’ve had two versions of her in my life for a long time, and one has disappeared from my life. This one hangs around and pops in from time to time kind of like a hurricane.

Rarely do I have a Friday where next to nothing is going on. This is a huge opportunity–to have such a day, as it indicates my life has hit a point where everything isn’t so batshit crazy that I can step back and breathe a sigh of relief. Of course this is an illusion. What I am doing is not listing and not focusing in on the things that need to be done. This too is part of a freedom Friday. you are allowed to forget that which you wish you could forget.

I wish I could forget being sick, because… damn.

I am looking forward to honing in on my writing in the next few weeks, because I have hit that sweet spot where school isn’t dragging me. It lasts for a few months in this fashion before I am dragged again. One side note on that being the small mountain of school business I’m conveniently pushing to next semester.

The pushing ought to stop. I gotta get a bunch of things in order so I can find some lasting peace and balance.