I mean, there’s always things in life to feel crappy about, and most people–myself included–tend to focus on those elements above all else. Pleasure (happiness, in the non-Pavlovian sense) is a homeostatic state: we of the free and postmodern world exist in it, we expect it as our baseline, and thus everything outside of that state feels like pain. That’s dangerous behaviour, for any number of reasons, which I’ll let the psychologists and anthropologists sort out. What I try to do on a daily, if not weekly basis, is to look at what it is that hasn’t pooped-up my week: the good stuff. Gratitude, joie de vivre! A natural and talented depressive, if I don’t do that, my ‘normal’ becomes quite dark. I need to let in the light. I need to search for and cherish love. Here’s what joy I found this week…
Jupiter. The cuteness. The dazzling cuteness! He’s about twice the size as when we last saw him and he’ll be as big as a puppy when we bring him home–which should be soon! Another few weeks, and what perfect timing, too, as I’ll be putting the final edits into the final manuscripts, and Jupiter’s development will be the ideal occupation to pursue while Geadhain settles in the ashes of its war.
Which brings us to joy number two (and a little rhyme, as I do): THE DRAFTING IS ALMOST DONE. Literally a week or less and I’ll have completed two drafts of Feast of (title to be revealed soon). Six years, five books: a 1.25 million word epic. There’s a lot more for me to say on the matter, and we’ll get there once the big send off to the first editor occurs and it’s time to kick my feet up and relax–by playing with our new kitten! I expect to be overwhelmed by emotions. Probably a certain sadness, which I’ve experienced just from writing the books, as I’ve had to say goodbye to these people and places that are so real to me. That, and I’ve been writing so many emotional sendoffs and closures I wish I’d had with mom. Besides that: I’ve created a dream, a bonafide freakn’ world! I never thought I would do something so grand. Still, I stand by my prior statements that it is our dream: all the friends, readers and fellow dreamers who wander Geadhain.
Never have I felt that sense of community more than when I am contacted by those of you who have fallen in love with the series, which ties into my third joy of the week: listening to the ladies over at Pages and Pause Screen chat about my work. I had the pleasure of having Feast of Dreams read, analysed and discussed on their podcast (bookcast) this week. And let me tell you, when people get it, really get your message, there’s a feeling of connectivity that’s as close to divine as when creating that work and tapping into that universal energy in the first place. It really is a special kind of magic and it makes everything in the world less blue. Pages and Pause Screen, for those not in the know, is a new sister site of Roadside Reader, with a slightly different, broader focus on women and geek culture at large. There aren’t many podcasts of which I can think where folks will be debating the characterization and symbolism of literature one minute, then sum up what everyone is thinking with: “one foot in the shit, the other in a bear trap.” (There were some golden taglines from last week’s Sarah J. Mass bookcast, too.)
A great listen all around, and they’re chatting about Penny Dreadful next week, which, as you may know, I could go on and on about until I ran out of air. Some of that wind-baggery would be rage from that ball-kicker of an ending they chose to go with. I swear you won’t walk away wincing from the end of Feast of #@$%@%#@^
That was supposed to be an obscured title, rather than the appearance of comic explicatives. We’re going to leave that as is, though, since anxious people like me should often do the opposite of what their itch to constantly correct the world tells them to do. I’m going to leave that mess there, and I’m going to get back to my zen garden of joie-de-vivreing. Cause when the shit gets real, when we have other problems to deal with on top of our social anxiety, we all need to have a little space where we can go, collect, reminisce and grow strong from gratitude.
All my love,
P.S. A wild .gif appears (artifacting comes from the .gifness)…What could this mysterious clip mean?