that’s a wrap

on day two, of C2E2 in Chicago. I had been told it was the city’s biggest nerd convention, but bigger than Wizardworld? Doubtful. Except… quite true.

I only came for one day with my girlfriend and wow, it was nuts. So many people. So many vendors. So many special guests. So many panels so much cosplay so much everything! Too much, really, for a humble wombat such as myself to ever hope to experience. I loved every moment of it, even when my anxiety began to kick in, and my injured foot began to THROB. And even when my chronic dyspnea flared up. C2E2 is one of those community events that fosters a sense of community despite any real genuine connection among the many attendees. We’re all unified by our love for the extensive nerd culture. But not just as consumers; as creators as well. The cosplayers, yes, but the many writers, artists, podcasters, vloggers, musicians and so many more creatives.

It’s a community of shared energy in shared passions. And while I didn’t get to meet one of my most favorite celebrities (David Boreanaz), it has been such a memorable day. Not just for all the aforementioned reasons, but because I got to spend the day with my girlfriend exploring shared interests. Because, yes, of course she’s a nerd like me. But I also got to see her discover how much of a nerd she really is! I got to see her step WAY outside her comfort zone and perform in front of people!

The last time I went to a convention (Wizardworld) and really the only other time, I went with a friend. It was fun but it was nothing like this. I credit it to sharing the experience with someone I care about deeply. It’s a truly exhausting experience too, one that I’m so ready to collapse as soon as I get home and sleep the sleep of the dead. (I’m writing this while still at C2E2.) After a highly stressful month of settling into a new job (something I’m still doing), it’s an amazing way to just have fun.

Odd as it may seem, I’ve really been struggling to just have fun. For better or worse, I’ve allowed the stress of the new job get to me, to drain me, and to leave me with too much anxiety in my efforts to prove I belong there despite a marked lack of experience. (Although I’ve been reassured repeatedly that I’m doing great and everyone is well pleased with my performance.) Stress can be insidious. Stress, anxiety, depression, these things eat away at a person’s joy and contentment like termites to wood. Add in my physical woes—like my foot, my back, my breathing, and the potential for real fun just sort of goes out the window. Today has defeated that pattern; even if it’s just for today , I’m reminded that I still have the capacity for joy. I still know how to have fun.

I’m still a creative at heart. Because I’ve begun to suspect that too. I haven’t written anything in some time. I haven’t blogged. I haven’t recorded new YouTube content. And so… had I abandoned all that in favor of a regular 9-to-5? (Not that there’s something wrong with that.) No. I still love to create. I still love to develop and workshop story. I still want to be a successful, published writer.

I’m so grateful to my girlfriend, who reminds me of these things without even trying. Because she and I are on such similar journeys. We each yearn to prove ourselves. We each struggle with doubts about our own self-confidence.

So now as things truly wind down here at C2E2 for the day, I’m left with a sense of quiet contentment and satisfaction that today—despite some logistical hiccups—was a day very well spent. Does this mean I’ll start blogging or YouTube-ing or streaming on Twitch again? Maybe. Probably. Most definitely. Will I be as consistent as I’d hoped to be? Possibly. That’s less important at the moment. I’m back. I still have things to say and do. I remain Wombat.

just one thing

I spent way too much time trying to come up with a snappy way to describe what I want to say.

Then I spent even more time trying to figure out how to say what I wanted to say, even if it came out awkward or clunky.

Finally, I gave up.

I’ve been struggling lately. What started out as a minor medical problem has turned into something more long term, possibly chronic. I don’t know yet. But I haven’t been to work in a few weeks now, and that’s problem enough. I’ve tried to stay productive, but the medical problem limits my mobility a lot. I haven’t left the house in a while. It’s like lockdown all over. Although I don’t think I felt quite this depressed during lockdown. I don’t know why, probably because I didn’t feel quite so helpless–not so personally helpless, I mean. I was helpless to do anything about the lockdown, yes, but I felt personally capable of taking care of myself at least. Now…

I’ve been more active on my YouTube channel, sure, and even my Twitch, although I can say nothing about the quality of either. They’re fun. They help with my confidence. That’s not nothing.

But other things… well. As I indicated previously, class is over and so is my teaching. I feel adrift without students to communicate with. Other writers. That was the real gem there, I think, working with other minds similar to my own. I haven’t seen my friends in a while, since before the new year. That sucked, and it still does. But I’ve been doing the watch party thing with one of them, and it’s kinda fun. I’ve introduced her to one of my favorite shows, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and she seems to really enjoy it. I’m hoping to introduce her to more. Watching things together is one of the things I love doing most with friends. That and eating out, which… I can’t do right now.

For anyone who’s wrestled with depression or bi-polar disorder, you know that there can be long periods of highs and lows. And without medication or counseling, it’s a real bear to manage those wobbles. It’s hard to stay motivated in the lows, it’s hard to not be dumb and reckless in the highs. I’d love to say that’s why I haven’t blogged lately, despite my new resolve to do so. That and feeling like there isn’t much to say outside of expositing on my extreme emotional despair, and who wants to read about all that? And it’s not like I don’t know what to do about any of it. I’ve walked this path a hundred times before.

But then why do I blog at all, if not to share my feelings? It’s a struggle to give myself permission to express myself, good and bad.

I recall something my last counselor once told me. I mean, she told me a lot, and I remember some of it, but this one thing really stands out. Little goals. Make little goals. One thing you can do now, or today, and achieve that. Then another little goal. It’s really the same thing as taking it one step at a time, but I never was able to properly internalize the whole “one step at a time” thing. Little goals seems way more achievable. It’s what led me to write this out tonight. So I’m going to continue to work on that.

the wettening hour

I only call it this because I promised a friend I’d call it this. Although she might argue that I threatened to call it this. We went on to debate whether I should call it “the wettening hour” or “the hour of wettening”. You can clearly see which way I went, but we had a spirited debate on the merits of one or the other. Ahhh, the life of a writer, right? Either way, I’m calling my post this, because… someone thought this was a word, and I just couldn’t stop giggling.

Look, I’m not a syntax nerd, but that was just funny to me.

After the laughter died, I gave it some additional thought and ultimately realized that, while not technically a word, it was comedic in a way that could work. There’s a story for everyone, after all. My taste in narrative is definitely not for everyone. Things that I love are loathed by some. And some things that people love, I just cannot stand.

When I was teaching writing, I tried my best to always clarify that most of what I taught was based on my opinions. Even when I introduced ideas from other sources, from successful and published authors, I prefaced them as opinions. Their opinions, or my opinion that their opinions were positive and credible. Now that the classes are over, I find myself forgetting that. I talk about story and character like I really know what I’m talking about and like I’m a true authority on the matter. But I’m not.

It’s okay to prefer something different, which leads me back to what I originally wanted my post to be about: potatoes. Sort of. You see, at my day job (now my only job) we offer a multitude of kiddy activities and prizes throughout the week. One of our go-to prizes are stickers. A friend and I were looking at some of the stickers. Some of them are really great. But then there was one that was literally just… a potato. That’s it. Not even some kind of super potato or anthropomorphized potato. Not a potato over an interesting background or even an unusually sized potato. Just a regular brown-ish potato. Now this is not me knocking potatoes. I am not affiliated with any anti-potato movement. Hell, I love potatoes. Fried, baked, put ’em in a stew. (Also probably why I’ll never beat diabetes.) But I had a hard time understanding why a kid would ever choose the potato sticker as a prize. More so, I couldn’t understand why a company would go to the trouble of making a potato sticker. Ultimately, we agreed that surely there was a kid out there somewhere that loved potatoes to such a degree that they would choose the potato sticker. (For my part, though, I remain somewhat unconvinced.) But there’s the truth of the matter. Sometimes, you go with the potato and not the unicorn. Sometimes you make the unpopular choice or the unexpected choice. Sometimes you’re a weirdo, and you should just own it.

Year of the Wombat

I know. You’re wondering what a wombat has to do with anything. Is it a metaphor for some greater truth? Was my mother killed by a wombat? Is it some weird, previously undiagnosed fetish?

None of these, really. Thankfully.

Wombat is just my online… moniker? My sobriquet. My handle. When I’m active in AIE, I’m Wombat. On my YouTube channel, I’m Wombat–although more frequently Old Man Wombat. When I… well, I guess that’s it. As for where it came from, well, it goes back to an old cartoon called Captain N: the Game Master. Look through some of the episode titles and maybe you’ll figure it out from there.

Anyway, now that we’re past that. It’s really a year in retrospective. Yes, I understand that there’s still a couple of weeks left. But let’s be honest; I may not post again until 2023. I’ve talked about doing my best. But really this time it’s different. My classes are over, and with that I suddenly have much more time and energy to invest in things I used to do before, for fun and… at least theoretically, for my career. Writing, YouTube, podcasting, blogging, all of it has been part of the plan to become a writer and content creator. This has been my Year of Doing, remember? Let’s take a look at how it’s going.

Well, there were definitely some successes and some non-successes. I started my YouTube channel. I had to take a break during class, but now I’m back at it. I didn’t start the podcast. And I’m not sure when I’ll be able to really get that going. The manuscript remains unpublished; no one is more disappointed than myself and my writing partner. But we are so stuck on this part of the process, finding a communicative and reliable artist to create the book cover. I did teach a few different class-type things. I did write some–mostly in NaNo. But I hated what I wrote, so that’s really a mixed bag. And then blogging, of course. I keep saying I want to be more consistent, I keep thinking I have so much to say. Maybe I do, but I’m so tired and distracted. I don’t think it’s related to fear or anxiety. Well, maybe it is a little bit about anxiety. It’s funny; a friend just said the same thing to me. She wonders what she would ever have to say in a blog and even more why anyone would ever care to read about it. I need to remind myself of what I told her. Don’t blog for the readers. Blog for yourself. However you want to take that. Practice expressing yourself. Practice writing. Practice confidence. There are a lot of ways to benefit from blogging, and they don’t have anything to do with readers or subscribers. But moving on. Elsewhere, I’ve made a few new friends. That’s really the craziest part, considering how awkward I can be socially. Fear has little to do with that. Awkwardness is just awkwardness sometimes. I started developing a few more story ideas. But I didn’t find another job, and that’s one of the larger failures. I’d love to chalk it up to not having enough time to look. That’s part of it. I think the other part is the part that’s always been the problem. It’s like the search for a job is this monumental task. I find it so difficult to get started. Like exercise (another miss), like dating… (okay, that one is extremely fear-based). Who wants to date an old wombat, after all?

There’s still time, though, for some of it. If I can scratch just one more thing off the to-do list before the end of the year, I think I can firmly accept the year as a general success. Hell, I even found time to start and finish Andor in the week since class ended. Believe it or not, that’s a huge win. Now I’m trying to hit my Goodreads goal. I think I’ll get there… if I can just stop adding more books! (I’ve been on a real children’s book kick this year. I’ve found some real beauties too.)

I don’t really have much more to say right now. That’s probably a sign that it’s time to go, right? Well, that’s okay. I have work in the morning anyway, and another one of my goals is to get enough sleep!

so… Spinal Tap isn’t real?

Sometimes the perfect title just falls right into your lap. Sometimes life works out that way. I happened to come across This is Spinal Tap while at work a couple days ago, and I decided that maybe it was time I watched it. But first–a little research. And it was during the course of my research that I discovered the awful truth. It’s all fake.

Sometimes life disappoints. Which is really all I meant to say. There’s a father and son who come into my work every couple days. Without being specific, let me just say that the father is not… the best. He once told me how much of a jackass his son is when he happened to make a mistake. Me being me, a professional trying to do his job and behave in a professional manner, I do what I can to defuse these situations when they arise. “It was a harmless mistake, sir. No need to worry or be upset.” What I really wanted to say, I couldn’t say.

Maybe you all agree? Maybe you disagree. Maybe there’s blame to go around for all this.

My point, though, is that a few days after the last episode, I had an opportunity to simply watch the father and son as they came back in and just took a seat. The son watched videos on his phone, while the father made phone calls. I watched their body language. There was simple, uncomplicated contentment on the son’s face, which I hope is an indicator that all is not doom and gloom at home. As for the father, I observed a great deal of stress and frustration. It all seemed bone deep. He seemed like a man who had been disappointed by life and was struggling to push through anyway.

In my most optimistic moment, I tried to apply that filter and reassess the situation between them, because I’ve seen what stress can do to people whose coping abilities are exhausted. I’ve been there. I’ve lashed out at people before. Now I am not excusing that behavior. It’s reprehensible to take out your frustration on people who have nothing to do with it. I was simply trying to understand it. I had initially assumed that the father was just a dick and the worst father of all time. The truth is, I don’t see him all day. I don’t see him at home. I don’t know what his life is like. I can only hope this behavior was an isolated incident–a terrible one, to be sure, but it doesn’t automatically make him a bad person. (He still might be a bad person, but I won’t condemn him for this one act.)

We all know what disappointment feels like. Chronic disappointment is even worse. Reframe the situation, you say? Great advice. Not always possible. Sometimes people get dealt a bad hand and just have to deal. Sometimes people make (perpetually) bad choices, huge mistakes, stupid decisions and the fallout is sharp and stinging. For so much of my adult life, I’ve unconsciously felt disappointed. Something bad happened to me, and I never really dealt with it effectively. Worse, I allowed that to inform my behavior and decision-making for years and years following. Guess what? All those years of foolish thinking and acting led to disappointing results. Even today, when I feel like I’ve taken some big strides toward changing and improving my situation in multiple areas, I still wrestle with a sense of disappointment. Sometimes my coping mechanisms help. Sometimes they just novocaine it. I’ve tried to focus on the helpful ones only. Self-expression works wonders, and those of you who write likely know what I’m talking about. Keeping a more consistent blog is one of my top goals, because I tend to feel at least a little better after posting something. Plans come into sharper focus. I feel more energized, and I feel a little more hopeful overall. Obviously, I don’t have it all figured out. But I’m at a point now where setbacks aren’t totally going to derail me or steal my momentum.

What works for you? Please share.

when is the time?

It’s a fine line, I think, between self-pity and… hm. Honest self-reflection?

That was just a preface. Really, it’s about deciding when it’s time to speak up and when it’s time to just put it all in your rearview. Here’s a little story. Boy meets girl, boy and girl fall for each other, then it doesn’t work out because boy is a silly neurotic mess. Oh, I tried to play it cool. But it was impossible to think straight when we were together. I was a lovestruck, grinning idiot. Which made it all the worse when she abruptly fell off the face of the earth and stopped communicating with me.

Apparently, this is a thing that can happen in dating, and it has a name. I was ghosted. Is that why, when she and I finally came back into each other’s lives, I did the same thing to her? Maybe. I could argue that my reasons were legitimate. I didn’t just do it to do it. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? The damage… well.

I made mistakes. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time. Ever since I dropped out of her life, I struggled with whether to send her a final email, more out of a desire for closure than any effort to reconcile. And maybe, kind of, out of a desire to let her know that I feel wronged. I’ve been dumped before. Breaking up is nothing new, and it has always sucked. But this… man. Well. I made mistakes. Mistakes have consequences.

How do I know? Well, because I finally bit the bullet and sought her out. I visited her and we talked. And… in the eighteen or so months since we last saw each other, she got married.

I. Ah well.

I got out of there pretty quick. It was practically a scene right out of the first act in a romantic comedy. You know, where the protagonist breaks up with his/her significant other, which seems terrible–but it’s actually great because that person wasn’t right for the protagonist anyway? It didn’t feel that way in the moment. I ended up sharing this misadventure with a friend, and she provided a unique reaction that I’ve since clung to like it’s my last shred of sanity. She said that at least I got closure.

Let me just say… it’s really not overrated.

Interestingly, she said something of a very similar mindset in class one day. She said she needs closure in her films and TV shows. The rest of the class had a mixed reaction, as did I. But afterward, I realized that I agreed with her. We need some sense of completeness in our stories. That doesn’t necessarily mean they end. It could be as simple as the ending of one chapter. But I think that chapter needs a definitive endpoint. I had this really awesome analogy about character arcs and journeys along both the X- and Y-axes, but as I neared the finish I realized my logic didn’t pan out. See? Character growth.

This is my fundamental issue with the MCU. As far as I can tell, they’ll never stop making content as long as it’s profitable, and that content will never stop tying into what came before and what’s to follow. And while some characters may croak or age out, there always remains connective tissue. Closure is just an illusion. Just look at Hawkeye! A show that focuses on a character who struggled with closure to his time as an Avenger, all while introducing yet another piece in the puzzle that will undoubtedly be the Young Avengers. Because the MCU just rolls on. Fine.

The writer in me… the writer in me can’t decide which way to go. While my writing partner and I play in a giant narrative sandbox, I am starting to really enjoy the idea of enclosed stories. When I was teaching screenwriting, we spent almost all of our time focused on writing singular, standalone scripts. We discussed a lot of long-running franchises, of course, but no one really seemed to really have the head for developing anything that could spawn a sequel. I didn’t realize that at the time, but now I find it very encouraging. It’s okay to end a chapter; you just turn the page and continue into the next one. And I guess it’s okay to end a story. You can always start with something new.

dear fear

Hey, I wanted to thank you for all the times you’ve been there for me. I didn’t even need to beg, like I sometimes do with my other friends.

So many times, you saved me from making risky, important decisions. Kept me from a lot of awkward, amazing introductions. From persisting with and nurturing a lot of relationships.

To be honest, fear, you’ve been my most loyal companion my entire adult life. We really go great together–you with your unwavering discouragement and pessimism, and me with my compulsive need for an excuse to not take my shot.

Who needs dreams? Who needs goals? Friends? Love? Happiness?

Well, this year, this Year of Doing, is my effort to change all of that. I think I’m doing… okay. Better in some ways than previous years, for sure. My YouTube efforts, for example, are going alright. I still don’t really know what I’m doing. I certainly don’t know how to promote or grow my followers, but that’s okay. I’m still learning how it all works. Followers will come. Or they won’t. Whatever.

(Please follow!)

Writing is more of a struggle. Writing relationships as well. My long-time writing partner has been going through some significant personal tribulations this year. I don’t know how to help her except to offer emotional support as a friend. And I haven’t pushed too hard at making progress on our WIPs. But I’m not as worried there as I used to be. A new professional relationship seems to have hit a bit of a bump. That’s okay too. Worry doesn’t help. To that, I am sure you say duh. Well, yes, duh. But my brain doesn’t always grok the obvious, especially when it comes to things like worry, fear, doubt. The relationship will smooth itself out–or it won’t.

Preparing for my creative writing class in the fall has hit another bump. That being the motivation bump, to finish preparations. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve taken on too many projects, but really… I think that’s just the doubt and fear talking. That’s worry. None of it’s productive. I can only strive to do. Push toward my goals with all the forward momentum I can muster. Right? It’s all anyone can do.

But back to writing. I have a couple of extremely important writing projects that, thankfully, my brain just won’t let go and won’t allow me to put on the backburner. It’s both annoying and amazing. So I’m hopeful that in the coming weeks I’ll have great news to share on the progress with both of those writing efforts.

Work and the job hunt is going… okay. Work feels like it’s getting busier lately. I’m feeling more exhausted mentally afterward. Even so, I still enjoy it. Does that make me a masochist? I may or may not have another job offer pending… we’ll see how the rest of the week plays out regarding that. Which is good, I think? On the flip side, my physical health continues to be a struggle. I’ve had some back trouble and foot trouble for about a solid week or two now. Back doesn’t seem to be easing up much. Makes exercise super difficult and all the positives that come from exercise. I actually missing going for my walks. Figures, my body would rebel during one of those rare periods when I want to be more active.

Just keep striving, I guess. Right? I never had a mantra before, but maybe I’m onto something here. It can’t hurt. I don’t think I’ve ever solicited comments before, but to anyone who reads this, what are some things you do or say (to yourself) that helps you along when you feel like you’re out of gas? Any really effective strategies? I’d love to know.

that one beat in my head

Sometimes the pain seems to come from the ether. A sudden monsoon of hurt that beats my brain until all I can think of doing is curl up and die. But I can’t do that. It’s only a reflex and offers no real solution to anything.

It happens at work. At the store. Driving. So I take it, absorbing it until I’m left senseless and disoriented. But alive.

These episodes never pass quickly, or at least they don’t feel quick. Each moment proceeds into the next with exquisite awareness and paradoxical detail that I am, in fact, alive when it just seems like I’m dying.

It’s not good. That’s all I can say, it’s all that need be said. Any other description would just distract from the simple truth. I’m alive. I’m dying. I’m basically Schroedinger’s cat.

What do I do? What do I do? Breathe? Check. Sure. Done. What next? Talk to someone? Bit more problematic. I burned those bridges. Why would anyone give a shit now?

These are the thoughts that hamster wheel their way around my head. You all know the vicious cycle? For me, the best medicine has been to endure it and take some kind of positive action when it passes. I’m sure there’s a better way to handle things, but this is how I cope for now.

There is some good news, though. Back in January, I formally proclaimed it to be my Year of Doing. There have been so many things I’ve wanted to do, intended to do, wished I could do–but never did. Why? Fear is probably the biggest reason. Everything stems from that, I guess. I was tired. I was discouraged. I forgot. I was busy. Not this year. This year I do.

So earlier tonight I posted my first YouTube video. The idea is to launch a video reaction channel. (Two, actually!) But I’m starting off on a personal note. So I posted about a minute-long video introducing myself. It’s not much, but for me it’s a huge step. I have never posted anything showing myself or even audio of myself. And it took forever to figure out a never-ending litany of tech issues. I have a second channel that I’m developing with a friend. We have recorded a bunch of content, reacting to things like New Girl, Banshee, Bob’s Burgers, Supernatural, and even movies like Beverly Hills Cop. We have more planned. I just need to make some time to edit some of it.

I have two podcasts planned too. One with the aforementioned friend where we will discuss lesser-discussed films. We recently watched Kung Fu Hustle to kick off the show. We’re just waiting on some new equipment to arrive before we record. And the other podcast is with another friend where… I think… we’ll cover certain shows and their showrunners, starting with Breaking Bad and Vince Gilligan.

And I’m even teaching again in the fall. This time it’s going to be Creative Writing, for which I am very excited and very anxious about. Fiction writing is not a problem, something I have a lot of experience with. Poetry, not so much. Creative non-fiction, a little bit more. But I’m doing a lot of research and reviewing in preparation for that.

I’m also teaching two fiction writing workshops at my other job. Well, co-teaching one, teaching another solo. It’s going to be a hella busy fall, I think. I need to make sure I get enough sleep.

And of course, I’m actively looking for a full time job while I work these other jobs. Whew. Right?

Finally, I’m actively writing two new manuscripts–one a kids picture book (or possibly a chapter book) on my second draft, and the other a fantasy novel that’s going to be more thematically ambitious than anything I’ve tried before, where I’m working hard at figuring out the dynamics of the main characters (another task I’ve never spent much time on at the outset of a new WIP).

And last but not least, I’m shopping around for an artist for the completed manuscript I’ve co-written. My partner and I are ready to create cover art for the book. Once we do that… and write a backcover/inside flap blurb… possibly a preface/foreword by someone we trust and respect, we will move into the actual publication of it.

So much to do. So much juggling. So much thrilling excitement. I feel like I don’t have time or energy to be depressed so much anymore.

Wish me luck.

the one in which we don’t have a name yet

I have a new appreciation for podcasters who make podcasting their thing. My friend and I are… reasonably able to handle doing an audio edit, but wow, we are tired and it’s taking longer than expected.

Part of that is our busy schedules, I admit. He’s teaching several courses and doing other work on the side. I’m teaching my class, working another job, and trying to get one or two story ideas off the ground. I haven’t been this active in quite a while.

But I’m loving every second of it. I’m exhausted to the bone, but I’m loving it.

And I’m reconnecting with old friends. Trying to rebuild what I should never have allowed to fall into disrepair to begin with. Just think of it. Friends! With an S! Me! I guess you don’t really know me very well, but trust me, it’s a very big deal. I haven’t had multiple friends since college.

I spent most of today working on one of those new stories I mentioned above. It’s been so long since I’ve had the energy and the creativity and the time to spend more than a few minutes on something like that. It felt so good. I feel really excited about it, and my writing partner does as well.

My students… I’m so surprised by them. None of them are self-proclaimed writers, but they write so well. They write so well. They’re so creative. I think their story ideas are fascinating. I would never have come up with ideas like theirs. I’m so excited to see how their final projects go.

I’ve been trying to get back to this blog for days now. Time just sort of slips away. I come home from one job or the other and I just collapse. This is definitely something I want to return to. I don’t know if I’ll have much to say, much that’s interesting, anyway. But it doesn’t have to be, I guess. Writing is like a muscle, isn’t it? It’s like working out. You need to exercise it, or it’ll get flabby. Hah.

And hanging in the background above every other endeavor, there’s my hope to rebuild my school’s film program. Wow, you say, isn’t that a lot? It is. Every time I think I know where to start, I talk to someone else and learn that there’s even more to consider. Enrollment. Money. Equipment. Teachers. So much to consider. I went to school that was in a rebuilding process. It was exciting, like everything that happened there was happening for the first time again. It’s my hope to kindle some of that excitement in the faculty, staff, and student body here as well.

Anyway. Need to do a little more creativity before I call it a night.

how the turntables…

… to use a–perhaps now overused–twisty turn-of-phrase. Yes, I went there. No, I’m not sorry.

It’s been such an up and down journey since I last posted. To be expected, I suppose, since it’s been years. But once again, I find myself drawn back to the realm of storytelling and… film. How, you ask?

A couple months ago, I interviewed for an adjunct position at a local university. And I was offered the job. And YES, I took it. So now I am currently Adjunct Professor of Screenwriting. Hah. Me, teaching other people, young people, sharing my wisdom and knowledge of the craft. I’m still mind-boggled.

But to take a brief detour first: the elephant in the room.

I caught the covid on December 31. What a way to end the year! And I confirmed it on January 4. It was the worst sickness I’d ever had, and it lasted a full two weeks–probably in part due to me catching a secondary infection.

All that to say I missed the first couple class sessions, and I had to email my students the lessons and assignments. But I’m better now and we did finally hold an in person class session! They’re fascinating humans. Almost none of them have any experience with filmmaking or screenwriting or have even seen a script. They’re like blank slates, all ready to soak up what I have to give them. (Yes, I know I mixed metaphors. So?) I’ve been talking to my old screenwriting partner about the whole experience. He, too, is a film professor, although his specialty is nonlinear editing. But his true gift is screenwriting. And he and I have been talking about the business and the nitty-gritty of screenwriting once again. What makes a great script/movie? What have we seen lately? What do we think about the virtues of the 3 Act Structure? It’s all come back to me. The passion is back in my voice. And I admit, maybe there are some cinematic stars in my eyes. The seeds of a new future–or maybe an old one?–taking root.

I’ve decided that this is a year of change, a year of action. Officially a Year of Doing. In addition to this teaching job, my friend (the one I mentioned above) have committed and begun work on developing and launching a podcast about–what else–films and TV shows. I’ve reached out to a couple of other chatty and intellectual friends about developing a (YouTube) live watch and reaction series. I’m thinking we’ll watch and react to old black-and-white movies, and occasionally sprinkle in maybe a video game reaction (one of the people I talked to is an avid gamer) or maybe even a modern piece of cinema. And there is also, of course, “the manuscript” that my current writing partner and I have been working on for years. (Good news there: we are officially done with writing it and are now lost in the weeds of editing it and figuring out some of the more practical things like cover art, ARCs, and even a logo for what is going to be our new publishing house. And finally, yes! Resurrecting my blog. (According to my mother, it’s very good and I should really start posting again. But really, Mom; stop reading my blog!)

These things were always possible, of course, but I don’t think I would’ve ever believed in them until this year, until the teaching opportunity came my way. This is a year of doing that I’m committing myself to in a way that I haven’t been able to do previously.

If you’re still reading my blog, thanks. Welcome to the new year.