Onward

Obviously, it's been a little while since my last post. I've been crazy busy, and not in an overtly adventurous way, so I don't have any such stories as being stood up in the big city or accosted in a gay bar bathroom.

I did have a wild dream that I was being hunted by the villain from No Country for Old Men. He soon caught me (of course) and captured me, but he didn't kill me. Back story was revealed to me about his character, but I don't remember what it was. He drove me up a mountain to sacrifice me to a giant tentacle monster in the sky. At the summit, I saw the altar, though it looked more like a small tower. The monster appeared in an explosion of tentacles through the clouds. I looked up into its eye, and I'm sorry to say I woke up.

I think the dream was supposed to be a nightmare, but scared as I was, I was having too much fun for it to be one. I haven’t had a nightmare in many years. Maybe prayer helps; maybe my writing has finally bound me into communion with my explosive mind. So many of the dreams I have, I lament waking from them. This was no exception.

Oh well, moving on.

I had a difficult night on the job with a drunk whom our hospital admitted. I later learned that he was homeless. I would have never guessed, given his demanding attitude.

I had been brought up thinking that the homeless were gentle, humble people who wanted nothing but to eat and perhaps provide for those they loved. I'm astounded to discover that some of the most entitled and destructive people I meet on this job- and have ever met- are people who carry their worldly possessions in a series of backpacks and luggage bags.

It lends personal affirmation to the age-old theory that there is more parity than we realize in the quality of life between the richest and the poorest of men.

I've spent all my life revering and judging; pitying and envying. But if a man with literally nothing to his name can scream, swear upon, and threaten hospital staff because he is asked to remain in his bed for the night, it makes me wonder... Then again, withdrawal can do that just as easily as entitlement, and that pulls the mind down a whole other spiral of judgement I'm just too busy to go down right now.

I think what's most important for me is to stop overthinking and keep writing. Believe it or not, there is a line between the two. It's fine, as fine as a line can be, but it's there.

I'm nearly finished with the fifth (but not final) novel of my We are Voulhire series. My brother is hard at work on a new cover art for the first novel, and will hopefully have a cover for the fifth novel by the time it is complete. I'm saving up for a big and hopefully successful marketing campaign for the series (the first book, anyway) and I'm excited to have all five books ready to go when that time comes (in September).