So next Friday (May 16th) is my birthday. I don’t know what I feel about that, except unexcited. Presents don’t really interest me at this point, because I can’t get what I really want, i.e., publication or anything that’ll bring me closer to my goal to become a published writer. Or commissions, which my family wouldn’t even begin to understand how to go about ordering. I think the only thing that’s got me curious regarding presents is my father’s hint at a Civil War present…but he even said that might not be a real deal.

Usually on my birthday I get either 1) really excited or 2) really depressed about my age and future. Excited because I make myself believe this year is it, this’ll be the year I’ll become published and make my dreams come true, etc., etc., etc. Depressed because I look back and think how close I could have come to my goals and missed. I mean, when I was twenty years old I thought I was going to become published within the year….and now I’m turning 26 and nothing’s happened so far. So I don’t feel like fooling myself into thinking that this is going to be the year. It could be, it could not be: I’m just tried of placing hopes on myself and then feeling disappointed when nothing comes through.

That said, I have been moving closer to my goal, inch by inch. My novel “All the World in a Rage” is nearly ready to be sent to publishers, Elevator’s got a new website and my artist for Animusians have been sending me character sketches and the like. Not astounding progress like a contract would be. But I’ll take what I can get.

In any case, here’s me hoping for a good year to come!


Amazingly talented artists and very good friends!