Last night, after finishing the audio edit for my story "Z-Day Report," I opened "Bad Trip," the story I recorded solely to do an episode of the Outcast with it, before promptly deciding it wasn't good at all and changing my mind. Even if the story wasn't a great one, it had been produced and edited, and would go in one of the two upcoming story collections* I've resolved to put out in 2021.
I laid back, just to rest my eyes, and when I opened them again, it was four am, my light was still on, and somehow I hadn't knocked my laptop off onto the floor since falling asleep.
Today, I took an hour to started editing "Bad Trip," and there was one line about an elderly second grader that made me laugh. I had decided against releasing it as an episode of the podcast, but now I'm wondering if I shouldn't send it to somebody and ask what they think. Since the story was written (in part) to amuse Big Anklevich, I might ask him if he'll listen to it and let me know his judgment.
That episode is in his hands, kids.**
Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In January: 1864
I know I complain a lot that I have no leisure time . . . but really, what is all this time I spent writing stories no one will ever read or editing podcasts three people will listen to (maybe more than that once the Feds discover all those girl scout bones under the crawlspace)? If I stopped doing those two things . . . heck, I could watch craploads of television!
Plus, I took at least two naps this week, maybe even three.
Push-ups Today: 123
Push-ups In January: 1390
Dunno about you, but there are forces constantly trying to drag me down (down, under the floorboards, where those same skeletons lie), mentally, emotionally, and make me give up on myself and the world. It's like how you always hear about how models and advertising making girls feel fat and unattractive.
But my point is, you can't do everything, you can't be "on" twenty-four hours a day, and you can't give in to those chanting voices. Take your victories where you can find them, no matter how small, and forge ahead. You're doing SOMETHING right.
Words Today: 964
Words In January: 11,198
*Which reminds me, I spoke to Big yesterday about his efforts to get his stories recorded and put out in an audio collection, and he's chugging along just fine. He reminded me of what Dean Wesley Smith said about putting out various collections of stories--he said, every time you have three stories complete, put them out in a collection. When you have five or six or seven stories, put those out in a bigger collection, which contains the three from the first collection. When you get a dozen or more, put out an even bigger collection, which includes everything from the other two-five collections you've already put out. The man may or may not know what he's talking about, but when I was recording short stories his wife had written, she eventually put them out in a collection, and all I had to do was record a new introduction and copyright. So I imagine he knows what he's talking about.
I have not taken the man's advice, but if I ever focus on publishing again, maybe I'll do that: put out collections of five stories, a dozen stories, thematically-similar stories, stories in the same series, and stories where teenagers nearly get to have sex but it is yanked away like Lucy with the football. We'll see.
**Immediately, an inner voice says, "Are you daft? Just put out the bloody story as a sodding episode, mate." My inner voice is British, for some reason. It tells me, rather than leave it in Big Anklevich's hands, just put it out there, whether it's good or not, because, "You get a few quid for it that way, and keep the bangers well away from your mash, know what I mean, know what I mean?" A nod's as good as a wink to a blind bat, wouldn't you say?
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