Yesterday, my nephew started singing “When I’m 64.” Great choice. Love the Beatles. My birthday is the 8th of July, not the 7th. And I’m only 63 this year, not 64. But he tried, and the effort is what counts.
What kind of a year was it? The first half was part of the unsettling effect that COVID had on my life. How bad was it? I received a phone call from a mutual acquaintance that the love of my life had died; her body had been discovered in a ravine, having been left there for as much as two weeks. I hope her passing was peaceful, but from what little I know it seems unlikely. The best I can say is that she was a very unhappy person, so at least her suffering is over.
Please do not offer me condolences. We had been estranged for over a year; she was an abusive narcissist. It did suggest to me, however, that I had now definitively missed my chance at romantic love, something that most people take for granted. This was the last of my existential crises during the COVID period, and the one that left me the saddest.
Then, 2022 was over, and everything changed.
Two weeks into 2023, I decided I wanted to write a series of short stories set at the Canadian National Exhibition. Four months later, I had written nine shorts and a novella, totaling 81,000 words. They include: the man who runs the Guess Your Age/Weight booth has an unexpected encounter with one of the Great Old Ones; a robot wanders the CNE to try and understand what human beings mean by “fun;” a time vampire literally steals moments from unaware fairgoers; and, six of the best students at the Alternaut Academy compete in a scavenger hunt. After a hiatus to write something else (which I will talk about in the next paragraph), I have come back to the series to write two last stories I had ideas for. The final day of my 62nd year, I finished the first draft of one of them, “Animal Magnetism,” about a women who works at The Farm being warned by a pig (did I mention she talks to animals?) that somebody is plotting to rob the casino. I have already sold one of the stories, and eight of the others are currently under consideration at various publications.
In between, I spent three weeks writing my second novella: “Land of Wonders.” As you might imagine from the title, it is my homage to the well known works of Lewis Carroll. It features, among other things, a ventriloquist toad, an astronaut’s suit looking for an astronaut to inhabit it and a character I call The Human Mood Ring (although he is not called that in the story itself). This is the first of four planned novellas which will explore this world. This story sets up the world; the next instalment will see it invaded…by tourists!
For the past six months, I have been focused on what I love most: writing. And my writing has focused on things I love: one of the features I adore about my home town and one of my favourite authors, one who was an early and enduring inspiration in my life.
In addition, I have already had two publications (“Girls Rule the Cyberpunk World” in Brave New Girls 7 and When the Soft Sciences Get Positively Runny, my 13th self-published Alternate Reality News Service collection), with contracts for two more and hopes for more after that. Lots to look forward to in the coming year.
To be sure, the existential crises, although they have mercifully faded into the background, will likely be with me for the rest of my life. And it hasn’t all been smooth sailing: submissions to The Dance, an anthology I’m supposed to be editing have lagged (I’m hoping for a final rush of submissions in the last three weeks: hint, hint).
Still, overall, I’m happy with the way things are going, feeling much more positive than I have since before 2020. That’s not a bad way to start a new year of one’s life.