Gained A Level, or a few.

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I sat down the other day and wrote out all the projects I’ve written in the seven years since my family moved from Las Vegas to Ogden, Utah.

I have 10 projects either done, outlines, or ready to be written.

Four thrillers in the military/political/espionage realm and six in the horror genre.

I’ve been hard as hell on myself for the last few months. Writing these down feels like I’ve gained a level in my writing.

I’m a big gamer, and I have been since the ’80s. Looking at all this feels like I gained a level in one of my games. The fear of rejection and the fraud police will always be on my mind, but I have a date for my military/political thriller novel, November 1st. Here is the link.

But I want to thank everyone who commented on my posts over the last few months. I’m working through some things personally, and all of your support has been amazing.

I have a whiteboard above my desk, and I have all of the books I’ll be publishing until 2024 listed. There are seven with dates. I have one of the 10 I listed above out on submission. As soon as I get a reply on that, I’ll add it to the queue.

I write horror and military/political/espionage thrillers. I grew up watching horror and reading thrillers. Tom Clancy will always be my favorite in the genre, but Mark Greaney, Jack Carr, David Baldacci, Brad Thor, and Brad Taylor are my favorites right now.

Here‘s my list of what I’m currently reading.

I hope you have a good rest of your week.

F This and Getting It Right

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I’m trying to get my head right.

These last three months have challenged me in ways I never thought possible.

I’m reevaluating where my energy goes. I’d put a lot of it into social media, at least in TikTok and I’m feeling like that’s been part of my problem. I took the app off of my phone and will only look at it on my desktop or laptop.

I started working on Tim Waggoner’s new Writing in the Dark Workbook yesterday. I’m feeling better about my writing while making my way through the exercises, which is more than I’ve been able to say in months. The book is fantastic and while this isn’t a review for it, I think it’s as good if not better than the original book.

I believe a perfect storm happened over the last three months and staring at TikTok as much as I have screwed with my head. I used it to dull my senses about everything else that happened.

This is something I used to do with alcohol but having given up alcohol I needed to find something else to dull me. Social media is a good drug, but its after-effects are a bitch.

I need a middle ground on all of this and I’m having trouble finding it. I know my post the other day probably freaked a few people out. It’s been a hard three months.

I’ll be offline for everything this next week as I travel to Disneyland to celebrate my son’s graduation from high school. I intend to get back to writing as my head feels clearer than it has in months. I’m not sure what caused it, but I’m not sure I’ll be using TikTok anymore.

Emotions, endings, and decisions.

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I haven’t written a word on here in a few weeks. Today felt like time to say something.

I’m dealing with some severe mental issues and its taken me out of my head. I write because its the only thing I truly enjoy anymore, but even that has been difficult.

I have a novel out with my editor, a novella out for consideration with a publisher, two other novellas sitting on my hard drive but after the last three months I’m not sure I want to do this anymore.

Once the novel is done with my editor I’ll go through it and submit it to agents. I don’t know what else to do with it. If that doesn’t pan out I’ll self publish it. The novella with publishers is one I hoped would do well, but after almost a year of it being out, my hope is dwindling.

I’m having all kinds of feels for my writing and while I’ve struggled with depression before, this time feels different. This time is more difficult to pull myself out of it. I’ve had so many bad thoughts over the last three months and I’m beginning to wonder if the lack of my writing going anywhere is a part of it. When you’ve written 12 1/2 novels, 4 novellas, and hundreds of short stories with nothing to show for it, life begins to look different.

Am I writing for the right reasons? Is my mental health worth this?

I’m beginning to wonder about those two questions more and more.

Why do I write? At first it was to prove to someone that I could do it. As I continue down this road of being an unpublished author, that’s no longer the reason. I like stories. I like to read them, to create them, and maybe I’ll continue to write in my free time but only for me. I’ve reached the point where I no longer feel a benefit to myself for my writing.

My mental health is the worst its ever been. I’ll be in California with my wife and kids celebrating my son’s high school graduation next week. The following week I’ll be looking for a therapist because I can’t do this by myself anymore.

If I decide to continue writing after those first few sessions of therapy I’ll figure it out, but I’m leaning towards stopping. It’s not enhancing my life anymore. It’s drudgery and it’s screwing with my head.

I will be spending tonight watching my son graduate from high school. I’ll be considering whether I continue writing over the next few weeks. I am leaning towards quitting.

The break that almost killed me

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I’d wondered how this post would go most of the weekend, and while I’m sitting here on Sunday awaiting the blood moon and eclipse. I learned a lot about myself over the last few months.

My break wasn’t one I’d intended. It was magical journey into one of the worst depressions I’ve had since my break in 2014.

It started with my son having some issues at school. I’m not blaming him. I’m blaming myself for not dealing with my mental health in a satisfactory way. There were inklings of the coming storm with how I handled a few things after the first of the year. The echoes of the coming storm reverberated and then took over as if the echoes weren’t echoes but the storm’s arrival at my doorstep.

I fought hard to contain the storm. I stopped drinking because I needed to. I put myself on a limit on how much social media I could participate in. This last part led me to take a break from Twitter and screw up my algorithm. I no longer saw the people I cared about seeing. It was all bullshit all the time. I dove into TikTok and into my Norse practice. The latter has been my saving grace over the last eight months.

I may go into the Norse practice if there is any interest, but let’s just say I had a few conversations in dreams last summer that led me to discover it.

As I fell more into a depressive state and swore, I wouldn’t say anything to anyone for fear of what they might say.

Those moments of clarity in the depths of my depression caused me to wonder what I was doing. Whether I should continue to write and if it was a waste of time. I’ve written steadily for the last eight years. I’ve written eight novels, 4 novellas, and more short stories than I can count.

Recently I wondered if it was worth it. I’ve often wondered whether I should continue. It’s something that still plagues me as I write this. After that much writing and having nothing except the collection out in the world, it’s hard to understand what I’ve done wrong.

The biggest problem is allowing others to dictate what I should write when I know better than anyone else what my mind is capable of. In that vein, I also understood I needed to find a real editor for my work. Finding one made a huge difference. I’ve barely touched the draft they’ve worked on. That changes this week.

I am on firmer footing with myself and my work, but there will always be that questioning mind about whether I should continue or move on. This hits hardest as my oldest graduates in a couple of weeks. We’re taking them and their sibling to Disneyland to celebrate this occasion.

As they step into another phase of their life, I know my wife and I are doing the same.

I will always struggle with depression. It’s a fact that I’ve come to accept. I won’t merely exist with it. I will live with it.

I began a new story this week, writing it for myself. I’m avoiding the traps of my former writing ways and throwing myself into it.

I hope you’ll stay and follow along.

Change is coming…

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I’ve been in a very depressed state for the last three months. It started with my writing not going anywhere. It moved on from that onto my oldest having issues at school. They graduate this year and ran into some issues in February. From there my mind was thrown off and I haven’t written anything I’ve really enjoyed since.

I have a novel out with my editor and will continue to use this editor. She’s been awesome and understands the characters. Her going over my draft has been one of the brightest points of the last three months. The rest of it has been shit.

I have six projects in one form or another moving along, but getting fresh words on them are the hardest things I’ve done in a long time.

Long time readers of this blog know that I equate depression to living in pit. The walls are slick with mud and slime. It is hardest thing to climb out of because of those walls. I’ve had many thoughts of self-harm over these three months. I’m working through all of it but damn getting out of the pit is hard.

I’ve also quit drinking. This time for good. I can’t drink. It’s something that I’ve fought with over the last three years. It finally came to head around my birthday in March. I can’t in good conscience drink alcohol and fell good about who I am as person.

I no longer want to be in this situation. I’m working to improve my mental as well as physical well being. I will be using this blog to refocus my energy and to use it how I’d initially intended it. To write about my problems. I know it’s sometimes depressing to read about how someone is struggling, but I know there are people out there who are comforted and feel less alone by reading my words. I’ve had numerous people tell me so.

But I am on to the next page. I will be here more often and my content will change a little bit, but I’ll always talk about writing. It’s the one thing that keeps me going.