Well, 2017 was a dumpster fire of a year. I’ve honestly never been so tired of social media, so fried on blogging, so inclined to hide out in a fictional Vermont town.
That said, it was also the year I turned 40, the year my son reached double digits, our return to Disney World, and the year I officially made Thornton a series of novels, not just a novel and some “bulges.” (That’s Diana Gabaldon’s term for the stories that bulge out from the main narrative, and I like it.)
I’ve got some concrete goals for 2018, both writing-related and personally. I won’t bore you with the specifics, but they boil down to more words for you, more balanced me. They’re mostly born from failures from years past and lessons learned. I’ve screwed up more than a few things, but there were some amazing successes, and it’s time to take the reckoning and move forward.
Twice today, I typed “onward!” in conversations with online friends. Twice, before I realized that’s the word, the guiding word for 2018.
I’m sure things will get lost, I like the idea that they will be found by those who come behind, and I will pick things up, too, as I go. Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia is one of my favorite plays, has been since I worked the tech crew for a college production, then took a class on the maths and physics of Stoppard’s plays. Septimus Hodge said it far more eloquently than I, so onward I go.
I hope you’ll stick with me. I like having you here.