Turning mud into a sculpture

 The completion of the first draft of a story is always an odd experience for me. It is this feeling of elation mixed with a bit of nausea when I realize that the first draft is generally what one may politely call...rough. Impolitely, it could be called many things far worse.

The Dreaming Sea's tale is there, on paper, ready for me to review then slice and dice and build upon. I shudder in horror if someone were to read this and expect a complete story. When I make a first draft it is an experimental playground. I will frequently switch POV, to see which character works best to tell the story from. I may shift the tone of the story around a bit to see what works best for delivering the story. It's a mad jumble before I put it on the forge and hammer it out...but it's there.

Time to take a couple of weeks to clear my head and take care of a few other things around here so I can get in the mind space necessary for sculpting something beautiful from this muddy puddle. It will get there, and I will offer as many updates as I can over the coming months. This will likely NOT be the final pass at this story so the release window has been pushed back to sometime in mid 2022. Sorry to disappoint but that's how it goes when one aspires for something worthy of my readers' attention.

Hope everyone has a great transition into Autumn here in the northern hemisphere. Looking forward to dragging more of this tale into the light in the coming months.

Also, please check out the first two books in my highly rated Concentric Worlds series! https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08KGSN1YM

Back to School...and Work

 My five year old began school last week, which caused no small amount of anxiety in the household. It's been just as rough for us as it has been on him, I think. Sending our little boy out into the great big world to experience some small level of independence is scary. 

I've been a work from home dad for eleven years, now. There's a lot to be said for being your own boss and taking control of your own fate...but there's also something to be said for stability in the form of not putting the entire world on your shoulders.

Over the past several weeks I have had a stirring inside of me as I continue my own mental health recovery process. It has led me down the avenue of searching for a job outside the home. To that extent I took a shot in the dark and am about to go to work for the good old USPS. It will be part time to start, which is perfect. Still, it ads no small amount of stress to the household. 

I am wondering what it is going to do to my writing schedule, but not overly concerned. I have always taken the 'trench writing' approach; writing whenever I get a small stretch of silence so I can think. I don't imagine it will be much different whether I am delivering mail or chasing a small child around the house.

Draft one of The Dreaming Sea is in the home stretch. I'm over 70,000 words in and beginning the wrap up chapters. I'd be lying if I said it was a great draft, but it is a start. I already have a litany of changes for draft two, including shifting the focus from one character to another and probably eliminating the chapter that I am currently writing, altogether. Being a writer is so frustrating before it becomes rewarding.

Personally, I am feeling much better these days. My mental health has largely stabilized and my thinking has been clarifying with each day. It's like emerging from a fog bank and finding a whole world that I couldn't see through the depression.

Here's to all the adventures that still await.

Until next time.

The Journey Back

 This morning I woke up, took a deep breath, opened the curtains in my bedroom and let the light spill into my little world. I looked outside and saw the town waking, clouds dotting the sky and birds rushing from nests to find food for their young ones. I was okay, and knew that everything would be alright as my five year old opened the bedroom door to let me know that he was awake and ready to start his busy day of playing with trains.

A month ago I wouldn't have been okay. In fact, I would have been very far from okay.

The pandemic took a pretty large psychological toll on me, and I can now admit that I wasn't right for a long time before then, either. It was simply the boulder that broke my back. I tried my best to keep it inside but as the world was beginning to heal, and things were slowly approaching a new normal, I wasn't. I was getting worse.

Anxiety can be sneaky. For me it crept up over years until I had reached a point where I was left completely dysfunctional and depressed. Not only couldn't I write, but I couldn't function as a parent or spouse. My poor wife finally forced me to face it in late April. I couldn't go on without help and was heading for the worst kind of psychological crash.

I am the kind of person who always swore that they would never resort to mood stabilizing medication because I felt like it represented a failure on my part. From the time I was young it was beaten into me pretty hard that depression is a weakness and means that you're a terrible and useless person. It was a huge mountain for me to summit. It was daunting, it hurt, and I kicked and railed against it for a very long time.

Then I was sitting there in my doctor's office, listening to what was going on inside me from a medical standpoint. Due to the other issues that were fighting to physically take me down -- namely a wonky immune system -- my body had virtually no serotonin. It was being attacked by my immune system. It was likely something I have lived with ever since I was an anxious 4 year old hiding in the bathroom at school because I was having a panic attack.

Fast forward to late May. A few weeks on my new medication and I have emerged from the haze and fatigue that comes with stabilizing, finding my focus to write again. Between my last post and now I had barely touched The Dreaming Sea, but I have had a couple of positive sessions in the last two weeks that have shown me that I can still find my writing voice. In fact, the words that come out of me now have a new life to them -- showing a heart and soul endeavor that I never realized was missing until now.

So, with some patience, draft one of The Dreaming Sea should wrap up over the next month or two. I'm not going to rush it. The words come out when they are ready.

Thank you to everyone who has expressed concern, frustration, and understanding toward me over this difficult time. I'm not sure I can ever say that I am completely healed, because I feel like it is an infinite process. Maybe that's what makes it worthwhile.

Cheers until next time.

The Dreaming Sea - February Update

 Well, I've been away for a minute.

This continuing limbo of existence that began eleven months ago continues to hit me in unexpected ways. One of those ways has been a really deep bout of psychological fatigue. I attempted to work through it but ended up taking more days off between writing sessions and, eventually, a two week hiatus in the middle of drafting. I have never done that before. It's been an eye opening experience. I have discovered that on this particular book taking more time off between sessions has been more productive. I am now writing just two or three times per week but the quality of what I am writing is higher than what I was churning out when I was trying to force myself to write every day.

I'm about halfway through the first draft of The Dreaming Sea. The story is coming along well. I think that once it is layered in subsequent drafts it will be a very compelling science fiction work. It is going to take me a while to get there. I had an initial goal of releasing it by summer but it is looking more and more like a later in the year release. That's fine. It's not like I want to release another book into the void during the pandemic, anyway.

I think things are slowly on the upswing, but it looks like the light at the end of the tunnel is depressingly distant and falling further away from us day by day. I know we will get there but the journey has not been something I would wish upon my worst enemy.

Blogging isn't something that I feel super compelled to do, but I do like to give updates to my readers, and fellow writers who need someone to commiserate with. So, I hope that these infrequent ramblings help someone out there to realize that they aren't alone in struggling through this dark moment in human history.

Stay safe, and keep on writing and reading.

2020 - the Year That Wasn't

I have been trying to write a blog post about what the approaching end of the year means for me, emotionally and physically. It's so hard, because the year has just been a pile of crap, but so many people around the world have suffered worse. So, who am I to complain? 

I can't even touch on survivor's guilt at this point because, despite the vaccine out there, this isn't over. 

For the better part of nine months life has been suspended and we simply exist in this held breath of anticipation -- of either a cure or death. How do we reconcile all of that, psychologically? How do we handle being here while so many of our loved ones aren't? More than one in every thousand people in the United States have succumbed to Covid. That number blows my mind.

On top of all of that, people have been forced to work in environments that are pretty unsafe and dealt with all of the other 'normal' stuff in any given year. People have loved, lost, watched their homes burn, been buried in debt, buried their pets, been taken for granted and abused -- only in larger numbers. It's a consequence of psychological stress that crimes and other abuses have increased pretty drastically.

2020 is going to go down in history as the year that wasn't -- and that is the way it should be.

I have heard it from many people that they were surprised to learn about the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918-20. History has largely forgotten about it. Why? The answer is because no one WANTED to remember it after that terrible period was over. It was traumatic for the survivors and nobody wanted to dwell on it after it was over.

2020 should simply receive an asterisk in history with a footnote that reads, "It was the year without hope. That is all." We should bury this year like we have buried so many others during it. It's possible to use it as an example to be better prepared in the future for another pandemic but also brush it aside and look to the future. Honestly, it's the only way we are going to psychologically survive as individuals after going through so much. 

After the vaccination threshold for herd immunity is reached, people are going to be flooding beaches, having gatherings, and trying to feel normal again Yet, there is going to be a stigma to doing such -- a guilt that comes from how 2020 has changed us. It shouldn't. We lived. Mourn our dead and then let their memory become immortal upon the pyre of time, but don't torment yourselves for still being here. 

So, as 2020 goes out with a frustrated exhale of mental fatigue, let's allow it to be what it was without mentally caging us within it for the rest of our lives.

2021 is going to be rocky for sure but, unlike 2020, it will be a year filled with hope. You are going to be okay, and that is alright. Don't let your mind come back to this year, again. It's over. It's finally over.

All Aboard the Holiday Struggle Bus

 It's one day away from December and a lot of us are probably already in the same boat. Not quite a week after Thanksgiving and we are feeling just as stuffed as the Turkeys we popped out of the oven and down our gullets. We're at the point where we are slowing down, getting behind on routines, and pet projects are being brushed in favor of holiday festivities -- albeit socially distanced this year. It's easy to get lost in everything going on around us -- on top of the crap show that already is 2020.

I've been struggling with motivation for months and it has only been compounded by the holiday shopping, cooking, unhealthy snacking, and general seasonal blase that I go through every winter.

Writers and other creatives really struggle this time of year, adding to increased chances of suffering from seasonal affected disorder and general stress.

True, family stress might seem to be reduced this season as many people are opting not to gather with relatives for the holidays but the truth may be just the opposite. What's the number one gift that family gives to one another? Guilt. If you think guilt won't be an issue this year, you might want to think again. Seeing grandma's sad face over that zoom call isn't going to make you feel any better while stuffing gingerbread men in your mouth with only your pets to watch you this year.

We're all in a predicament this year. So, how do we combat it to get ourselves back on track?

1. Try giving yourself dedicated time to indulge yourself in your hobbies.

It doesn't necessarily have to be writing or anything as complex as creating something to start. Put together a puzzle, read a book, watch a movie. The important thing is that you need to have a safe space to turn your brain off and let it rest. Stress is a monster that eats away at creativity and relaxing your mind will go a long way toward healing it enough for motivation to come back. You may find that as you indulge in this restful time that you have an urge to create -- go for it! If not, then just kick back and relax with this dedicated time. If you repeat it enough you may feel the spark come back.

2. Don't let outside forces make you feel guilty for doing the right thing.

This is easier said than done. We have a whole lot of pressure on us to behave a certain way. In this trying time most of us have opted to stay safe and do our part to get through this pandemic. Yet, we all have friends and family that don't understand that and will do their best to guilt or shame us into doing something we don't want to do. You're not a bad person or a monster for saying no. Find a way to connect with other people who are going through the same situation. Social media is filled with folks who are dealing with these same struggles. Some treat it with humor, others need a virtual shoulder to lean on. It's okay. It's also okay to acknowledge the guilt and that it's okay to NOT be okay right now. Nothing about this time in our lives is normal.

3. The kids are driving you nuts? Super parent needs to take a rest and give in to compromise. 

For generations parents have been mocked when letting the kids watch too much tv or play video games, but in all honesty these are no normal times and if you live in a frozen tundra for several months of the year "go outside and play" isn't always an option. Here in Michigan we can experience weeks at a time where going outside to play isn't an option. Don't feel guilty for giving the kids games and videos to experience. Try to balance it with books and educational materials but our kids are going through the stress of this pandemic with us. They internalize a lot of it, and react far differently from it than we do, but it doesn't mean that they aren't suffering. They need an outlet, and if that outlet is sniping zombies in a virtual environment then they should be allowed that opportunity. A content child is going to be far less clingy and will allow dad or mom the space necessary to engage in their own stress mitigation steps or hobbies.

4. What if you're motivated but don't have the time for your craft?

This is a boat that I am almost always in. I have writing that I want to do, but it's hard to find the time to hide away and scribe. I call my solution 'guerrilla creativity.' I will often leave my chromebook open and handy. If my 4 year old is heading into the bathroom to take a wicked poop I will open it up and get a few sentences down. WHEW! 50 words! Not a lot of progress, right? No, but if you can find ten times throughout the course of a day to jump back to your work in a similar manner you can turn those 50 words into 500. A child's bedtime is also a great opportunity to spend even just a few moments working.

5. Leave the phone out of the room when you're writing or creating.

I see this a LOT on social media: "I should be writing but here I am on Twitter." Listen, this may come as a surprise but for every benefit smartphone technology has gifted upon us it has brought about an equally detrimental habit. I didn't even begin my writing career until after I deleted facebook a year and a half ago. After I did that I published 2 books. That's a whole lot of wasted time dickering with social media that I could have spent starting this career earlier in life. I'm not telling everyone to delete social media. It is necessary for some people to stay in touch, particularly in this socially distanced year, but there are times the phone shouldn't be with you. In this one respect treat your alone time as respectfully as you would treat a funeral or a job. Leave the phone silenced and, if possible, out of the room. If you don't feel comfortable going that far then just make sure it's only set to ring for emergencies. The whole point is to eliminate distractions and temptations. Once you take away that deliciously tempting toy your mind will naturally focus more on what you want to accomplish. 

This is only a partial list of ways for creatives to cope. We live in a weird world right now. We always say to try to be kind to one another, but it is equally important to be kind to ourselves. Take care of the foundation of your career/hobby -- that means you.

Wading Through Life and its Inevitabilities

 Progress on The Dreaming Sea continues to be uneven. I had a good sprint last week but since Saturday I have written around one thousand words. It's not so much a lack of motivation as it is distraction. I typically write the most after everyone else goes to bed but Monday night I was cuddling my kitten the night before her surgery to be spayed. Then, last night, I was keeping a close watch on her until one in the morning to ensure that she wasn't pulling stitches. Eventually, I had to isolate her in the downstairs bathroom for the night because her brother wanted to wrestle and play with her. It was a little too ambitious for her delicate state. 

Yesterday was also time for my annual vaccinations. The flu vaccine always hits me rather hard for a day or two. Very sore and running a slight fever today. My goal is to write tonight but it really depends on how I feel. I hate taking three consecutive days off from working on my book but I also hate writing uninspired junk, even if it is a first draft.

Mentally, I have been doing better lately. There's some sense of hope in life, again. Winter is closing in on us here in Michigan but there's a sense of movement in the world for the first time in many months. I feel like we are past the mid-point in this terrible pandemic. So much senseless loss of life. I only hope that people take precautions while we await the vaccines to become available. 

I feel like I can dream of a time when the distance between us doesn't feel so insurmountable. My children's generation will certainly have some interesting stories to tell their future grandchildren. They are scarred. I can see it in my teenager's eyes and the way my four year old loses his patience so easily. The anxiety has done something to all of us. Turn on the news and you will see plenty of evidence of it. I hope it will pass and that we will heal, in time.

I also long for a time when I can get out and meet my readers again. It's no secret that I've always been an introvert but this plague has made me seriously reconsider my stance on the issue. I miss faces and smiles, particularly the smiles. I have to believe that they are still there, though veiled by layers of life-saving cloth.

Hang in there, folks. We're far from out of the woods, but I think I see the treeline rising in the distance now.

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