Oh, Yeah: 2009 in Review

Yikes. What a year. Better than some, worse than many. Here’s how it went for me.

Writing-wise, I’ve been relatively productive. I wrote four stories of questionable quality, sold two of the best stories I’ve ever written to prominent venues, gotten some good reviews (including one in Publishers Weekly), and continued writing columns for HorrorWorld and Fantasy. I also wrote three novels, but unfortunately, they’re all the same one.

And it still isn’t done.

I think what happened is that halfway through the first iteration of the novel last year, I changed some fundamental things about how I work and what I’m trying to achieve, so I’ve been doing triple the work I would be doing if I’d just started over on something completely new. I can’t really let this idea or character die, though, so I’m going to get this thing working if it kills me. It’s doing its best.

I guess that’s a mixed bag: I’m writing better than I have, but more slowly. Way more slowly. Hmmm.

Home-wise, I jack-hammered a ten-foot-square of concrete, resodded my entire lawn, refurbished two bathrooms, and tore down a wall of angry foliage the size of a city bus. I’m sure my back injury is completely unrelated.

Health-wise, I got contacts this year. I also fouled up my lower back worse than ever on a stupid project. I’m a little scared to have reached the age when the answer to all physical problems isn’t the application of more power or aggression, when you have to ask or hire people for help. Oh, and I’ve got grey hairs on my temples and in my beard. I’m also heavier than I’ve been in awhile, perhaps because of my convalescence.

Work-wise, I designed a knowledge base wiki and converted all of the documents to go into it, vastly improving a help desk’s search for information. I also designed and developed a few computer-based training courses, which are sort of fun. Sometimes. The paychecks were quite fun.

Reading-wise, I read 105 short stories and 34 books, far fewer than normal because I’ve been writing more than reading lately. Particular standouts among the authors I “discovered” this year were Caitlin R. Kiernan, Jeff VanderMeer, and John Harwood.

Emotion-wise, I didn’t quite live up to my ambition for this year to live a little more gently, growling less at other drivers or side-stepping people at the supermarket. I’ve been trying to build this bubble of reality around myself where, as long as I’m keeping focused on the people and things I really care about, everything else (politics, culture wars, my pervasive sense that society is unraveling like a cheap sock) doesn’t matter. The bubble, alas, isn’t yet complete.

I wonder if my recent back injury isn’t a metaphor for this whole year of trying too hard to get things done in all the wrong ways, gritting my teeth and smashing through Hulk-style. Maybe I need to change what I mean by “productive” next year.

I name all of my years as a device to help me remember them. 2005 was the Year of Dotted i’s, 2008 was the Year of Momentum. This might be the Year of Stripped Gears.

As for all of you, I’m grateful for all my friends, old and new, and I hope you all have the New Year you truly want!

Now go kick some ass. Carefully.