We can all bluntly admit that 2020 has been a fucking dumpster fire. It’s not just a normal dumpster fire anymore, it’s an f-ing dumpster fire now and it just keeps burning on. It burns on and we all try to live our lives just outside of the flames even if they’re licking us. I could go on about the political state of the US or its implications on COVID19 and all the dead people. I’m acknowledging all of that is going on and it just keeps taking its toll on all of us. I’ve often wondered how people did great things during horrendous times. I’ve wondered how they lived through everything history has thrown at them. I wonder about a lot of things and it’s why I write. This year, I’ve written a lot. When COVID19 started with the lockdowns I gave myself the job of writing more than ever for those stuck at home and needing an escape from our shared morbid and terrifying reality. It’s all I could do and in someways it’s still all I can do for my readers during this time. It’s a little job in comparison to the broken world, but it keeps me sane. I’m starting to think that’s the key to surviving history – somehow staying sane and fighting back when you can.
I’ve been careful in the past to keep politics off my FB page. Yeah, that’s ending. I mean, I know folks come for the books, but it’s my biggest platform and those of you who read my books probably know how much I loathe the current administration and what the future looks like if it comes around for another four years. I’ll keep saying it. I mean, shouting into the void doesn’t help, but it does weed out those toxic people and mark them. I think we need to do more of that. Politics shouldn’t be human rights. Those should just be in place.
The world is a f-ing dumpster fire and my life is no different. I’ve moved three times in a year trying to find the place my CPTSD is the coziest and trying to escape family who has abused me and attacked me and just made my life miserable. I’m in a new apartment. I’m excited, but not that excited. I hate living close to train tracks. I hate not having mail delivery here! Did you guys know that was even a thing? I live downtown of a moderate sized town and there is no mail delivery? What the holy fuck is that about?
So, I’m not optimistic. This is just another stop for me. I’m at the age where I want to put down roots, but can’t find the soil to grow in. I’ve been told I expect too much and want too much and have unrealistic ideas. Well, if wanting to live free from abuse in a house that gets mail delivery and isn’t shaken up like I’m the chicken in a shake and bake bag is too much to ask for, I’m guilty. I’m also okay with that.
During all the chaos of my move – I wrote the first book to a new series. Nope, has nothing to do with the chaos of the move. It’s set in Green Bay (Where my readers will remember Fred Moonscale owned and sold his nightclub, Glitter Bomb!) and explores characters not directly involved with the Hemlock Wolf Pack. After spending most of the year finishing that series I needed a break – a real break and am feeling creatively better while working on this trilogy.
So, I’m trying to avoid the flames of the f-ing dumpster fire that is 2020 like everyone else, but I’m keeping on. What else can we do?