First, the obligatory list of publications. Because, after this, shit might get heavy.
“Bed, Bath, and Oh, God, Run,” Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine: short story about draugr — old Norse “after-walkers” — and curtain shopping, published by Australia’s pulpiest magazine
High Voltage: the third book in the Exponential Apocalypse series; possibly the best one yet, definitely the worst-selling
“7 Horrific Realities of Receiving a Donor Organ,” Cracked: something I wrote about lung transplants and how they mess with your head
And that’s pretty much that for writing, I guess. I did have two super gratuitous bizarro stories published under a pseudonym, but linking to them feels like it defeats the purpose of a pseudonym. Feel free to search and speculate wildly, though.
Anyway, on to the deep, rambling thoughts.
In general, I’m very confused about my feelings for 2014. On the one hand, kind of the best year ever. I successfully received a double lung transplant and I feel better than I have since high school. Friends and family stepped up in big ways to help me and Monica out and we are forever indebted to their gratitude. The unruly nature preserve that is our backyard was finally tamed. Surge came back. Guardians of the Galaxy was both produced and became a blockbuster, and X-Men: Days of Future Past was one of the best comic movies I’ve seen. I discovered the joys of eating an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s in one sitting. Good stuff all around.
On the other hand, everything leading up to the transplant was absolutely the worst shit in the history of things I’ve personally experienced. I nearly died at least once, and Monica and I were, at various times, reduced to shambling husks that only technically resembled people. Robin Williams killed himself. The Amazing Spider-Man 2 happened. I discovered what happens a couple hours after eating an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s in one sitting. And don’t even get me started on everything else horrible still going on in the world. Seriously, don’t. I just get blinded and nonsensical with impotent rage.
In the end, though, does the good outweigh the bad? Absolutely. I mean, at least personally. In the general, overarching scheme of all things, I think the verdict’s a lot more up in the air. Regardless, I’m hard-pressed to say 2014 was a year I enjoyed. Maybe the last few months. I certainly wouldn’t want to do the whole thing over again if there were other options. If there weren’t, yeah, totally, I would, but I’d prefer not to is what I’m saying. Kind of an ends/means thing, where the ends are everything I’ve ever wanted and the means can go vigorously fuck themselves in the ear.
Where was I going with this? I don’t know. 2014 was a hell of a year and I guess I’m still trying to wrap my brain around it is all.
I’m sure as shit not sad to see it go, though.