Looking to the future

I’m closing out the blog for this year—I’ll see you kids in January.  In the meantime…

1. Book five has been done for a while now and I’ve uploaded the first draft.  There’s still some more polishing/editing to be done, but let’s hope I can get this thing squared away soon-ish.  It seems as though I’ll be continuing the writing game in the New Year, especially since I have small, devoted band of readers.  You kids keep me going even when I want to give up.
2. I’ve been applying for a slew of jobs lately.  We’ll see how it goes.  Winter is not really the best time for anything so I don’t know how hiring practices fit into all of that.
3. I survived Christmas.  That is all.
4. I’m listening to Prince again.
5. Old photos help to connect me to the past.  I somehow feel closer to people I never met or barely knew.

Without

Do you ever feel as though your life is amounting to nothing?  I’m not speaking of fame and fortune; both of those can be fleeting.  I am worried that I am never going to experience the true happiness of life.  I did everything I thought I needed to do to become a productive, successful adult.  I worked hard in high school, went to college and worked myself nearly to death on two degrees.  It was a struggle; I don’t make friends easily and I’m not social butterfly; therefore, I studied and tried to make the best grades possible.  Even that wasn’t always easy as I came upon less-than-sympathetic instructors and people who were just generally surly and inhospitable.  I am two years removed from earning my master’s degree, and the only thing I have to show for any of it is a crushing amount of debt and an inferiority complex.  Others are able to find employment with less experience and education than me; therefore, I must be hapless, feckless, hopeless, and every other –less out there.  I’m sure my lack of conversational skill plays a role in all of this; I am no good at talking myself up because there is honestly nothing to speak of.  When you are poor, you don’t have a fabulous list of leisure activities.  If my education and skills don’t speak for themselves, I don’t know what else to do.  Additionally, I am growing less sociable with time because I find people so generally unpleasant and sympathetic.  I am polite to strangers in public, because I was taught to be polite.  But I rarely go out of my way anymore because I know what I’ll find out of the way won’t give a flying fig about me.  I used to strive for helpfulness but people always blame me for their problems.  It’s a consistent pattern of my life. Maybe I was born with a guilty face.  I wish I could be content with being healthy and whole, but I’m quite sick of living hand-to-mouth while everyone else gets everything they want and I get nothing.  Either way, I would love to be happy, but this clown has finally washed off his makeup and isn’t going to fake cheer anymore.

Neglect

I keep neglecting this poor blog; then again, I am also neglecting myself.  I have been totally depressed, woeful, down in the dumps lately.  I think Christmas is for children and happy couples.  It's not for people like me.

Currently listening to "These Are Special Times" by Celine Dion (good album)

12/12/12

No one asked me to marry them, and I didn't play the lottery, so nothing magical happened for me today.  I'm just sitting here, editing my fifth novel.  The year is nearly done and I completed five novels, with more to come.  It's an incredible feeling, honestly.  I don't always feel good about myself, which is obvious to anyone who reads this blog on a regular basis.  But I'm working on it--every day that I'm alive, I'm working on me.

Very, Very Verbose

To update my followers: my latest book just keeps on going. Apparently I had too much to say this time around and thus the project has extended past my usual completion period.  I probably should have expected that when I set my goal for 80,000 words.  When I tried for a 60,000 word novel, I wound up with 76,000 words.  I tend to blow past my writing goals unintentionally.  It could be that I’m long-winded, or simply that writing is becoming easier for me.  Make no mistake, though—it’s not easy.  Sometimes I wonder if my brain wouldn’t prefer I just shut up!