So, I wanted to talk about this story a bit more, but I wanted to save it until after I was pretty sure that most people who would read it had read it. I want this epitaph to be colouring stuff in, but I didn't want to pre-colour the reading for most people. The story's complicated enough as it is without telling people there's more to it.

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So, in my last blogs I talked about recovering from the hardest burnout I've ever gone through, a debt accrued over seven years. I realized most of that really was the drive to monetize my work. It shaped everything I had been thinking about my writing for years, now, in subtle and unsubtle ways. Becoming financially stable through other means let me massage all those knots and work something out.

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A great mind can find inspiration looking out their garden window, but Maxwell’s was damned by it.

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Yeah, so you know how I quoted Super Eyepatch Wolf in that last blog? Turns out he just came out and made a two hour video about what I was talking about. I am deeply, endlessly grateful that my own spin around the Skinner's box was so comparatively tame compared to what Youtubers experience and have to deal with.

Because I’ve fixed a lot of problems in my life, I’ve got a clearer view of what was underneath them. Like when you clear off all the stuff on your bedroom floor looking for your wallet, and end up finding the unopened mail you forgot you were putting off. I mean, I assume, I’m never actually going to pick the actual clothes in my room up to find out. 

Recently Zach Wienersmith, of Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal, wrote:

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So in the background I’m working on a book about an alternate history of Earth where, one day, it started raining and never stopped. As part of the research for this I’m reading three books at the moment; Against the Grain and Seeing Like a State by James C Scott, and David Graeber’s last book Dawn of Everything. They’re all books that cover pre-agricultural civilization and see agriculture not as an inevitable step in the march of progress, but as a decision that was made and had oppressive

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Every time I've tried to make a film since I got my bloody degree six years ago, everything has gone wrong. I have burned all my savings to incomplete projects twice. I have been pushed out of an entire state by Marvel. One project had the editor's harddrive fail before they could back up, losing all footage. This year I had a laptop catch fire in the middle of trying to produce a short horror movie again.

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About two weeks ago I stopped being able to sleep. I could fall asleep fine, but I’d wake up every ninety minutes. Essentially I’ve just come out of about twelve days surviving on naps. 

Don’t want to dwell on this too much, but it’s been hell. Mind and body both started shutting down. Two weeks is a long time for injuries to not heal, and by yesterday morning I actually forgot my own name. But I managed to haul myself to a doctor, and I’m doing better. 

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My one rule of writing love is this; Show what two characters get from each other that they couldn’t get from anyone else, and make it obvious that they are lesser without it. 

My dog Sparky was put to sleep today. It hurts because his body failed long before his mind did. He had a long life, sixteen years, and it was a good life. He was loved. He was very deeply loved. 

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