Now that I’ve got all the primal shrieking out of my system, let’s move on to moderately less terrible affairs: all the things what I done in this here ol’ fakakta year.
For all my grumbling yesterday, I am not entirely blameless in wanting things to return to “normal,” and I did, in fact, do a couple of “normal” things this year. For starters, I finally went inside of a store for the first time since early 2020. A few of them, actually. I’m always overly masked, and I only go at weird hours when no one else is there, and I never stay for more than five minutes, moving at lightning speed so COVID can’t catch me, but still, inside a Target. I’ve been there, I’ve seen it. That was huge.
I was also forced to drive out to Palo Alto to see my transplant team for approximately 20 minutes before having a tube shoved down my throat and into my lungs, so that was fun. I’m sorry, I misspelled unnecessary and exasperating. I mean, Monica and I had to drive through Arizona to get there – Arizona – staying at Airbnbs and cheap motels where the doors all faced the street – no breathing other people’s inside-air for me – and subsisting entirely on drive-thru and patio food. You can go ahead and keep your skydiving; just trying to get to my doctor is enough of a thrill for me.
Meanwhile I spent most of October and November having other things shoved inside of me, or taken out of me. In chronological order: a colonoscopy, a lipoma removed from my back, my flu and COVID boosters simultaneously, and an abscess removed from my ass. Each one knocked me out for somewhere between a couple of days to a week each, one after the other after the other, what with the starving myself and/or trying not to tear a stitch, and I think I’m still trying to get back on my feet. The abscess especially was one of the grossest and most painful things I’ve ever experienced.
And, while we’re on the subject of medical stuff, I started Trikafta this year. A cystic fibrosis miracle drug, it’s driven down the need for transplants in the community, which is kind of nuts. I’ve become some kind of relic of the dark times, I guess. Anyway, I was on too much of it at first, and now, since it interferes with my transplant meds, I’m barely on it at all. It’s not a life-changing as I’d perhaps hoped, but my sinuses are a little better, which isn’t nothing.
In less cranky news, I ventured out to an author event in September and even made a new writer friend for the first time in forever. In May, Monica and I drove out to Joshua Tree for a few days. And we saw the Cabezon dinosaurs! Look!
And, in July, I went to the movies to see Thor: Love and Thunder. (It was, like, the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday, and Monica rented the entire theater for us besides. Happy birthday to me.) I know Love and Thunder wasn’t a lot of people’s favorite, but I quite enjoyed it. Of course, I also liked Thor: The Dark World, so. Strangely, both movies ended up being fairly pivotal for me: The Dark World was the first movie I saw post-transplant (it was on-demand on Stanford’s internal TV network), and Love and Thunder was, as mentioned, the first “normal” moviegoing experience I’d had in three years.
Meanwhile, in April, the walking embodiment of an inflamed asshole announced he was buying Twitter and I have been trying to quit the app ever since. It’s, uh, not really working. Turns out, if you want to try and sell your wares, or get clicks to your articles, you kind of have to have an audience? And mine remains on Twitter. I’m also on Mastodon, Post, Instagram, Hive (can’t link to it, but I’m @egumeny there), and I’m investing a lot of energy into Substack, if you’re into any of those things. I will also stay on Twitter for the time being, because it turns out I’m not famous or rich enough to have actual ethics. And, if you are out there, hit me up; I’ve been having a hell of a time finding people on the new platforms.
I think that was it for events? Things of note? Mostly I just sat around my office, writing and reading and watching TV and playing video games. Which, conveniently, brings us to the next bit, wherein I skip the pleasantries and attempt at cohesion and just start listing shit so we can all get on with our day.
Things I Wrote
Beggars Would Ride was published in September. If you haven’t already, you can snag copies from Bookshop.org or Amazon.com. (I’ve also got a few copies left in my private reserve, if you’re interested.) You can also leave reviews at the latter, or on Goodreads, which would help me out tremendously. It’s a post-apocalyptic atompunk Western upper YA retelling of Romeo & Juliet, with a little The Tempest thrown in for good measure. Think Stranger Things meets The Goonies meets Stagecoach, but in an alien-ravaged wasteland. You can check out the first chapter by clicking here.
I wrote a few things for Cracked I’m proud of, before unceremoniously being asked to stop pitching them. Why? No fucking clue. A new incoming editor was blamed, but other writers there continue to be writers there, so I kind of doubt that was entirely it. I never got any more information than that, though, so, whatever. Here’s a quick best-of:
A Deeper Look At The MCU’s ‘Military Problem’
Meet Springfield’s Most Evil Citizens: Mr. Burns And Maggie Simpson
6 Outdated Supervillain Tropes, Updated for Today
5 Famous Movies Whose Stories Are Way Older Than We Knew
5 Iconic Characters That Are Secretly Ripping Off Others
I also wrote a whopping one article for Nerdist this year, and started writing for Den of Geek, too:
Star Trek: Discovery Understands the Trauma of Life After Death
MST3K Season 13 Is Embracing the Chaos
Community’s “Epidemiology” Is the Perfect Zombie Movie
Why Hawkeye Deserves to Be Annual Holiday Viewing
In other kinds of writing news, I sold two short stories and one essay this year. Only one is so far available, with the other two arriving in anthologies at various points in 2023.
“One More Time Around” can be found in Starlite Pulp Review #1, available from, naturally, Starlite Pulp. It’s the first story set in Los Fantasmas, a city/world/universe which could, conceivably, spawn more such stories. We’ll see. This one’s got private investigators, missing bodies, and more minotaurs than you’re probably expecting for a sci-fi noir.
Things I Didn’t Write
Books
This Appearing House, by Ally Malinenko, available now. A middle-grade horror novel about a girl struggling with her cancer diagnosis and the treat of the disease’s return, her trauma represented by a literal haunted house. This was really, really good, and I’m honestly not sure how anyone let Ally be this creepy in a kids book. (The teeth! The skittering shrieking woman!) A lot of passages really hit home for me, too; it’s an excellent exploration/explanation of chronic illness and the way a person can’t really ever get rid of their past or find a way out from the looming threat of a potentially devastating future. The best we can do is not get caught up in it, not the ghosts drag us down with them.
Ducks, by Kate Beaton, available now. A beautiful and hefty graphic novel, as well as a subtle and haunting look at loneliness and survival. Set across two years in the oil sands of Alberta, there’s also a running theme of the destructiveness of Big Oil (and capitalism, more generally), and being caught in the cogs of a machine you can’t get out of. Honestly, for me, it’s up there with Maus and Persepolis (both of which I finally read this year).
Video Games
Pentiment, out now. A video game from Obsidian Entertainment that puts you in the shoes of a 16th century Bavarian artist trying to solve a murder (and then another one). The more you know about Medieval history, the Protestant Reformation, and the revolution of the printing press, the better. I don’t know how this got made, but I love it. The first game since the original Mass Effect that I immediately played a second time after completing.
Movies
Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio. This thing was beautiful, if almost unrelentingly bleak, and by turns creepy and heartbreaking. A stop-motion meditation on death, grief, and making fart jokes at fascist dictators. Highly recommended.
Everything Everywhere All at Once. The best multiverse movie you’re ever going to see, trippy and action-packed, and a subtle reminder that you are enough, just as you are.
Prey. It’s Predator, but instead of Arnold Schwarzenegger, the hunted is a Comanche woman played by Amber Midthunder. I really, really dug this one, well done all around, and I really hope we see more Predators appearing throughout history.
Top Gun: Maverick. I don’t really want to endorse Tom Cruise in literally any way, but this movie was exhilarating and fun as hell. I felt like I was ten again.
TV
Andor. This is the Star Wars I’ve been waiting for, for pretty much my entire life. A grungy spy drama set in a galaxy far, far away that’s not afraid to get into the specifics of personal sacrifice and the pain and power of holding true to ideals. Also, the Empire is shown in all its evil and ugliness, which is something that, sadly, audiences seem to have forgotten over the years. (I’m looking at you, all those Stormtrooper costumes for kids.)
The Bear. For a couple weeks, it seemed like everyone was watching it, and for good reason. Honestly, it’s like a gritty reboot of Bob’s Burgers (even borrowing a couple of plots wholesale), but with more trauma and mental health issues. Check it out if you haven’t yet.
Reservation Dogs. I don’t think enough people are watching this show, and they should be. Funny and tragic and perfectly acted.
Severance. Occasionally surreal, super engaging, with a lot of corporate criticism. I hope they don’t fuck up the landing.
Better Call Saul. Look, this is probably one of the best shows ever made, a slow-moving tragedy on par with some of Shakespeare’s stuff. A prequel to Breaking Bad, it never falls prey that show’s occasional bombast. Bob Odenkirk’s character is infinitely more relatable, his struggle weightier and his descent that much more painful. The final season ended, maybe not satisfyingly, but exactly as it had to. The push and pull between Jimmy and Saul finally resolved, in a suitably hilarious and heartbreaking manner.
(Full disclosure: I did background work on Better Call Saul as an HHM lawyer a few times, though not this season because COVID. ((In a weird way, I’m grateful, ’cause I would have been present for a very spoiler-y scene, and I’m glad I got to be shocked correctly.)) Anyway, look, it’s me!)
Is this post longer than I’d anticipated? Yes. But it’s also an entire year boiled down into, like, a thousand words, so I think I did all right. Usually that kind of thing takes about five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. (That’s a joke for my wife.) Anyway, I’ve been spoiling you all with practiced and thought-out personal essays lately – I’m worried you might start actually expecting that kind of thing – so please enjoy this abrupt exit and lack of a point.
Until next year, folks. May 2023 bring us all the good news, financial stability, and dirty sex things our hearts desire.