When I went to bed last night, I was in excruciating pain. When I woke up this morning, I was in excruciating pain. Right here, right now? Excruciating pain. From whence did this agony come? What did I do to wrack my flesh and bones with this kind of torment? As near as I can tell, nothing. I mean, I thought about going to the gym before getting to work today. Maybe, at my illustrious age, that’s enough to send my back into terrible oh-god-please-don’t-make-me-move anguish.
So… as I write today’s newsletter… I can only think about NOT writing the newsletter, not doing anything at all today other than taking some pain medicine… or some whiskey… or some pain medicine AND some whiskey.
This must be how that little Mothra larva felt, after getting battered and blasted by Godzilla and Battra. All she wanted to do was retreat into a cocoon for a while to regenerate. And when she was done resting, she emerged as Queen Mothra.
Honestly, though, I don’t have time to cocoon, I won’t have tiny cosmic-powered fairies to sing to me as I sleep, and I doubt I’d get a Mothra-like glow-up when I awake.
Anyhow, this week’s news:
I hurt.
All of this, of course, has me pondering the essential strife of my life. I’m afflicted with the desire to do more—more comics, more stories, more marketing ideas—AND I’m plagued by the desire to do absolutely nothing at all. The struggle is real. I know the clock is ticking. I know there are all these big ideas and big plans screaming in my skull. I know that, like my old man before me, I’ll never have the opportunity to retire. But I really—really—just want to do… nothing. I imagine I’d quickly be bored out of my mind, but it sounds kind of nice.
I’m gonna try…
…when I’m not crazy busy with work…
…when I’m not worried about money…
…when household chores and family responsibilities aren’t piling up…
…to just set aside a half hour a day to do nothing, to sit in silence, to refocus and reboot.
Yeah.
I hurt.
A couple of days ago, I drove to Columbia so that my son could audition for the Missouri All-State Orchestra. Hundreds of kids descend upon a college campus to play for the judges. The process takes several hours, so I found myself a table in a commons area to write for a bit. It reminded me of my days as a college student, because I used to sit in similar areas while writing short stories with titles like “Beyond the End” and “The Weakest Link” and “The Ballad of Roadkill Phil.”
As I was working (on the first chapter of a new project I’ll likely serialize on Patreon), a small group of college students approached.
“What are you working on?” one of them asked.
“It’s a novel,” I told them.
“Oh, cool! Are you like a big-time writer or something?”
“I’m not.”
“Are you published?” another asked.
“I am,” I said.
“Do you make money doing this?”
“Yes, this is how I make my living.”
“So, you’re ‘big-time’ enough to make money writing.”
“I guess so,” I said.
“What kind of stuff do you write?”
“All sorts of things,” I said. “Short stories, novels, and a lot of comic books.”
“Cool.” They all seemed to shrug and nod as one.
“I like to read,” one of the kids said.
And then they walked away without another word.
Note to self: BIG-TIME ENOUGH TO MAKE A LITTLE MONEY is a good tag for a business card.
My son’s audition went well, by the way, and he was accepted into the All-State Orchestra, Violin I. I couldn’t possibly be more proud of the kid.
A quick kitten update! I have decided that the kitten’s name is now Betty Santanico Pandemonium. Cindy has denied this name, but I think she’ll come around. The kitten is doing well, and she has an appointment with the vet at the end of the week to make sure she doesn’t have any illnesses we need to worry about. Assuming she’s healthy, we’ll introduce her to the rest of the house.
HEXILES #2
The children of Jamison Kreel want nothing to do with each other, nor do they want anything to do with the bargains their father struck on their behalf. What they want, though, means nothing, because the forces of Hell are intent on collecting that which is owed to them.
GATCHAMAN TPB, Volume 1
The triumphant return of Gatchaman, the iconic Japanese animated franchise of a five-member, bird-themed superhero team! A mechanical terror has descended upon numerous cities and the world’s greatest scientists are disappearing. Our only hope: Science Ninja Team Gatchaman! As they battle these machinations from the international terrorist organization known as Galactor, their strength, willpower, and even vehicles are pushed to the absolute limit. If they fail…who’s waiting in the wings to take their place? The first exciting volume in an ongoing series that expands upon the original anime series! Collects Issues #0-5.
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