That Was the Year That Was

 

Ah, New Year’s. That magical time when everything changes. Twelve sucky months behind us, twelve fresh, untouched months of opportunities and new beginnings ahead. One click of the minute hand past midnight and we’re primed and ready to become thinner, richer, happier, healthier, more successful and less constipated (for us older resolution-makers). Most of the resolutions won’t last beyond a week or so, but at least we’ll still have around fifty weeks of possibilities ahead.

I hope so, because I’m one of those unfortunate folks who got the sucky 2023.

If you recall, I was going to write a book a month this year. That didn’t happen for various reasons, chiefly depression and my video game addiction. One tends to lead to the other, I’m never quite sure what triggers which. All I know is that both together gave me a crippling writer’s block. Recently, though, I got a handle on both and have started writing again. January 1 sounds like the perfect day to reclaim the mantel of writer.

Indeed, I pretty much have to, due to the other reason 2023 sucked so badly for me.

The year started out fine, with me feeling upbeat and ambitious and truly stoked over challenging myself to write a book a month for an entire year. (Keep in mind we’re talking romance e-books here, where anything over 25-30K words can count as a “book.” Even if you only write a thousand words a day, you’ll have a draft by the end of the month. I didn’t say it had to be a completed, polished, ready-for-subbing book. But a draft is far better than nothing.) Financially I was in a good spot. The paid assignments had fallen off, but I could still meet my monthly expenses. I had savings in the bank and Social Security every month. But having a little extra income never hurts, which is why I turned to the writing. I asked myself, “What can I do to bring in some extra cash?” and since I’d always wanted to be a writer and now had plenty of time, having aged out of the job market and all, I decided to give it a go.

Then, beginning in March, everything went to shit.

First it was the unexpectedly high ($700) tax bill. Then my one tooth got infected and needed a root canal. Then I started bleeding from my lady parts, almost twenty years after Aunt Flo ceased her monthly visits. Trust me, ladies and gents (especially ladies), that’s never a good thing. Something went wrong with my right eye, causing mild double vision which made driving an adventure. And let’s not forget the $200 to have a guy come out and trap the groundhog that moved in under my mobile home. Skunks are fine, but groundhogs burrow. They also chew through wires, putting my electricity, plumbing and especially my gas heating system at risk. Yeah, Chucky had to go.

So went 2023: one expense after another, with no warning and no letup. I dealt with the tooth, then learned I needed surgery to stop the vajayjay bleeding, which had tested positive for cancer. (I’m fine now, by the way.) Then I had the car in the shop twice, once for a new timer (that one needed the tow truck), then to fix a loose connection that was draining my battery. I discovered that one when I got in to drive to the eye doctor and the car wouldn’t start. I had to reschedule; when I did get in, over a week later, I learned part of the gelatinous mass in my eye had detached, causing the double vision. An expensive operation would fix it, but there’s no guarantee it wouldn’t recur. It’s got a slowly-growing cataract anyway. I can live with it, but I’ll need new glasses. I put that off until next spring. I also canceled a dental checkup to save money (they want to do expensive x-rays Medicare won’t cover). So it’s eyes and teeth again next April. I haven’t even started getting the hospital’s charges for the operation yet.

Meanwhile, the number of paid assignments keeps dwindling, while my basic expenses keep rising. If you were wondering why I got depressed and turned to video games and stopped writing for several months, wonder no further.

But all is not lost. The hysterectomy may have finally shaken me out of my complacency. I went cold turkey on the games and started moving around more (doctor’s orders in that case) and eating better (lack of money there; I only have so much to spend, so junk food had to go). My bank was stupid enough to send me an offer for a Visa card, with no interest charged for eighteen months. Even more foolishly, they approved my application. Now I can splurge on stuff like lot rent and utilities and groceries while waiting for the big bills to come in.

I have a reprieve, for the moment. There are still expenses a’comin’, but I can plan ahead. And now that I’m writing again, I can pick up where I left off last year, and write a book a month. This time I intend to go through with it because I’m running low on options. I have to be careful taking outside jobs because I’m only allowed to earn so much before Social Security starts penalizing me. Luckily writing’s an iffy profession, with payments spaced out over months or even years sometimes. If I get even a trickle of extra income, great; every little bit helps. If I hit it big, Social Security isn’t going to matter. I have other stuff I can do, like clean out the Book Room and sell the comic collection. If I can get cash, I don’t have to declare it on my taxes. With the Visa card to tide me over, I might just pull this off.

So here we go again, folks. I’m going to write and sub books. This time I really mean it. It’s a matter of life or financial ruin. And anyway, an article on Yahoo said 2024 will be a lucky year for Capricorns because gloomy proto-planet Pluto is finally moving out of our sign. Normally I don’t put much stock in astrology, except when I want to believe in it. After this shitpile of a year, I need a break, so I say Yahoo and the stars aren’t lying and it’s all turning around. Starting right at midnight tonight, there’s nowhere to go but up.

Although the fridge has been making weird noises…and so has the furnace…and Marvel Comics killed off my favorite character and is showing no signs of bringing him back. But I’ve got ideas and I’m definitely motivated. You’ll be seeing me here on a weekly basis as I chronicle my journey back to financial solvency. Unless, of course, the laptop crashes. Yeesh. Is it midnight yet? Happy New Year, everybody!   

 

 

Grab Bag

So much for the weekly blogs. The writing, on the other hand, has actually begun to pick up. Too bad there’s about to be a break again. This post will be a selection of what’s been happening, what’s about to happen, and what I hope happens afterward. Hang on, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.

$$$

First up, my medical issues. Any of you of the male persuasion reading this, proceed with caution; I’ll be discussing the downsides of owning a female reproductive system. Ladies, stick around. This could be of help to you at some point in the future.

On September 22 I had a number of tests, including a D&C, to determine why I’d been bleeding from my uterus off and on since March. My reproductive organs had retired well before I did, way back in July of 2004, the date of my last period. Any time you have blood leaking out of your vajayjay after going through menopause, get it checked out. Especially if said menopause happened almost twenty years ago. I wasn’t told this directly by the doctors, but I think mine was due to polyps in my womb. That’s usually what causes vaginal bleeding after the bulb burns out in your Easy Bake Oven. One of the things they planned to do down there while gathering test samples was remove any polyps they found. They must have found some and removed them, because after four-five days of pseudo-menstrual bleeding following the surgery (this is normal and no cause for alarm), everything dried up and I’ve been fine since. Not even spotting on the undies, which was a major pain.

All of which became irrelevant, because the doctors told me they found cancerous/pre-cancerous cells in the tissue samples they removed. There’s also a growth on one of my ovaries that showed up during an  ultrasound. That could be benign, or not. Doesn’t matter. Given my age and the fact the Easy Bake Oven ain’t ever going back to work anyway, there’s no point in further tests or chemo treatments. Easiest, cheapest and safest solution is a total hysterectomy—uterus, ovaries, whatever other cancer cells they may find down there. My regular doctor mentioned this when I got my initial tests and said it usually takes care of the problem. My doom-and-gloom neighbor said there might be additional chemo (she had her hysterectomy back in her 30s). I’m hoping that won’t be necessary.

So, come Tuesday, I’ll be getting spayed. I never bothered having kids so I’m not stretched out enough, so they’ll be removing the equipment through my stomach instead of through the vaginal area. This means a couple of days in the hospital. Luckily my most recent paid assignment is due the day before, so no work conflicts. I’ll have to take a notebook and some pens in with me so I can write longhand during my stay. I did that during my hernia surgery back in 2004 and it worked out fine. Be interesting to see what I produce while under the influence of pain meds. As long as I don’t have a talkative roommate, this may work out pretty well.

Once my non-functioning reproductive system is removed, I’ll no longer be biologically female. Some states may not allow me to use the ladies’ room any more. On the other hand, with that and the adoption of the proper pronouns, I may now qualify to be a writer at Marvel Comics. There’s a silver lining to everything.

$$$

About the paid work mentioned above: that’s been another stressor these last two weeks. In addition to doctor visits, I got two assignments in the same week, the second due the day before surgery. The first is done and out; the second will be taking up my weekend. Bet I don’t get a thing for the rest of the month. This is good; it gives me time to work on my own stuff. This is bad; the paid work’s been helping me cover expenses, and would really help out with the medical bills that’ll be headed my way shortly. Hope I get something in November. I really should have been writing instead of playing computer games over the past two years. Yeah well. That’s on me. This entire summer has been a wake-up call. Hopefully after this I won’t be interrupted by yet another medical issue.

$$$

Finally, some good news. Not only did the sampling surgery catch a life-threatening problem before it could escalate, it jolted me out of a dangerous rut and got me writing again. And the writing’s taken off. I’m still on the Twilight Zone detective novel, but with all the changes I’ve been making to that slapdash pantser mess that was the longhand first draft, it’s like an entirely new story, and a far better one. I know the characters better now, what they’ll say and how they’ll react. It’s all coming to life. This always happens when I write a book, especially at my slow pace. By the time I get to the end, the beginning has aged long enough for me to see the flaws and come up with solutions. New ideas have had a chance to develop and can be folded into the plot to the betterment of everything. This sucker’s gonna be good.

One of those ideas surprised even me. My subconscious and I aren’t always on the best of terms, but this time it gave me a bonus. Towards the end of the first draft, written last year, I decided to include reference to the detective’s girlfriend, who he’d loved and lost two years before the story opens. It only occurred to me recently (I’m talking within the last month) that her name is an almost-perfect anagram of the name of another character who’s vital to the resolution of the current story. I can’t go into detail without divulging the plot and wrecking the ending, but it’s totally logical in context and makes perfect sense to the story. It had to be that way. I didn’t even see it and I’m the damn writer. Some readers are liable to pick up on it and figure out the twist, but I’m confident a lot of them won’t. Hell, I figured out the twist of The Sixth Sense from reading a non-spoilery review. Didn’t stop me from enjoying the movie. Wish I dared congratulate myself for being so clever, but then my subconscious would start grumbling and plotting what kind of a writer’s block to throw at me next. We really need to learn how to work together. And on that note, back to the grind. Enjoy your day.

  

To Market, To Market

 

Okay, then. Every other week.

Seriously, time got away from me last week, what with doctor visits interrupting an assignment with a tight deadline and an unforeseen resurgence of my video game addiction. Fortunately this week timing is better; I’ve got the tests/surgery Friday, then the weekend to recover before the next two assignments come in. In between all this I’ve been squeezing in the second draft rewrite of the former side project, which is now the main project. I need another longhand project. Pens and notebooks don’t come with distractions like games and stuff on YouTube.

Oh, and if you’re ever scheduled for day surgery, in which they send you home after you wake up, make damn sure you’ve got a friend or family member to take you home because if you’re still recovering from anesthesia, nobody else wants anything to do with you. Not Uber, not any social service. Nobody wants to be responsible if you have a reaction to the anesthesia on the ride home. The hospital won’t keep you overnight because insurance won’t cover it. I was lucky in that my neighbor next door was willing to transport me. She’s had run-ins with insurance coverage and understands exactly what I’m going through. After this I’ll have to make an effort to clean up my yard, which I pretty much let go this summer due to work and excessive heat, so they don’t have to look at it any more. It’s the least I can do.

* * * *

On to the blog. Writing the book, or books, or series, or anything is only half the battle. Even if you skip agent hunting and traditional publishing and upload the file to Amazon yourself, you still need to market the damn thing. You can’t just release it into the wild and hope enough people buy it to earn you pocket money. That doesn’t work. I tried that once and the poor thing sank without a trace. In six-seven years I doubt if it’s sold even a dozen copies, even after I lowered the price. If I’m going to earn money from this I’ll have to up my game. Writing better books would help, too.

Marketing is part of the reason I’m attempting regular blog posting. I’m not on any other social media, so I’m starting at a disadvantage. A channel on YouTube would help. Pity I’m an introvert. And not photogenic. And don’t have a very good speaking voice. And have no idea what my content would be. I’ve heard writers used to make Facebook pages specifically to hawk their wares, but does anyone even use Facebook any more? This blog is pretty much it. I may need to resort to clickbait entries to try to entice more readers. Maybe it’s time to dust off my theory about the History Channel’s show Ancient Aliens…

Or I can maybe earn some interest by learning from, and riding the coattails of, a highly successful marketer. I mentioned Eric July and his newest endeavor, Rippaverse Comics, a couple of entries ago. His first graphic novel (and related merchandise) netted him $3.7 million in sales. Issue #2 brought in $2.3 million. First issues tend to sell better because of collector interest, but those issue #2 numbers are nothing to sneeze at. He’s got two more books coming out within the next four months, with sales campaigns soon to be scheduled. Anticipation is already riding high, and wagers being laid on how fast the customers can crash the servers, and how long the system will be down. (Demand for Issue #2 knocked the site offline almost immediately; access was touch-and-go on Day 1, and Day 2 they were down for 20 hours. They brought in new hamsters to run on the treadmills, and after that things settled down.)

Clearly this man knows how to market. How did he do it? What did he do?

First off, Eric July is no newbie. He’s a musician. He and his band have been performing and selling recordings since he was a teen. He started a channel in the early days of YouTube and built a following. He’s been doing commentary on politics, music and comic books for years. His disappointment in the current state of the comic book industry, Marvel and DC’s output in particular, prompted him to start his own company and produce his own line of graphic novels. He kept his viewers apprised of his progress, and waited until he actually had a finished product on the shelves and ready to go before he opened for business. All of this was heavily advertised on his website, through live streams (his own and guesting on others’ channels) and video posts on YouTube and other outlets. Yes, visibility counts.

So does showmanship. July’s a performer, no doubt about that. He’s animated, enthusiastic, engaged. He’s fun to watch. He believes in what he’s doing and he gets others to believe in it too. And it’s working, to the tune of roughly $6 million in total sales so far.

This being the internet, he’s naturally attracted a veritable cult of detractors who are jealous of his phenomenal success, or trying to get attention by attacking him, or just have nothing better to do. He’s even turned their vitriol to his advantage.  Check out this marketing maneuver:

During the campaign for Issue #2, a few of these haters got hold of Issue #1 and posted it in its entirety on the Web so people could read it for free. This is known as “pirating” and violates the terms of service of most legit outlets. It also costs creative folks a lot of money. Mr. July had the pirated copies taken down. His detractors immediately claimed he “couldn’t take criticism.”

Not long after, the ad posted at the top of this entry appeared. For roughly a week, Isom #1 was offered for sale for the discounted price of $12 (original price: $35). A percentage of the proceeds was donated to a charity that provides comic books to children in hospitals. Promo code to cash in on this offer was “Pirate.” Nothing else needed to be said. We all knew what he was referring to.

That’s more than just a marketing ploy. That’s style. That’s how you promote your goods even in the face of adversity. That was a win on several levels. There’s much about business to be learned from this man, and you’d better believe I’m taking notes.

First, though, I’d better make sure I’ve got a quality product. While I’m at it, I need to come up with ways to establish more of a presence on the internet. Too bad I’ve always been anti-social, including anti-social media. That’s something else that’s going to have to change. Back to work…

If at First...

 

Welp, here we are.

It’s been just short of a year since I announced I was going to write a romance series (eight books total) at the pace of roughly one book a month over the course of the coming year. Checking back over my posts, that was September 21, 2022.

As you can tell, the writing didn’t happen.

However, a lot of other stuff did. I got punched in the wallet by an unexpected tax bill, followed by quarterly tax payments. Then there was the tooth infection, which turned into an expensive root canal. In between receiving the tax bill and getting the tooth fixed, I began bleeding from my lady parts. That can be scary when you’re a decade past menopause. I’m getting surgery done later this month. Even scarier, my freelance job, which has been covering expenses for me since 2015, began to dry up. Over the last several months the assignments have slowed to a trickle, and I can’t in good conscience look for other employment until the issue with my lady parts has been resolved. Be hell to land a new job only to have to tell the boss, “Sorry, I can’t start on Monday. The bulb burned out on my Easy Bake Oven and it has to go into the shop. How about I start next month? Is that good for you?”

Then there’s that issue with my right eye, the one the optometrist told me has developed a cataract, which began acting up around the same time as the tooth, and I only had funds to deal with one. I never did get the eye looked at.

Definitely should have put more effort into completing the book-a-month challenge last year. Or the year before that. I might have had a bit more disposable income to dispense to the doctors and dentists. Yeah well. You know what they say. Life’s a bitch.

They also say try, try again.

Which brings us to the here and now. At the moment my publisher’s still in business, I still get assignments here and there and there’s absolutely nothing on TV. Between that and all the extra free time, I don’t see why I can’t churn out a 45K-50K sex book every four-five weeks or so. I can also go prospecting through all my old notebooks for straw to spin into gold. Gotta do something on the weekends.

Now all I need is a kick in the pants. Oh wait, my utility bill almost doubled this summer due to me running the AC during the various heat waves. And winter heating season’s coming up. And the annual homeowners and car insurance bills. Reminds me of a tale once told by mystery writer Mickey Spillane. Heavily paraphrased, he said, “I used to take walks on the beach, waiting for inspiration. Then my accountant called and told me the bank account was running low. Man, did I get inspired.” Preach, Brother Mickey, preach.

***

It’s not quite as bad as it sounds up there. I did write a book last year, the one I used as a side project to keep words hitting paper when I kept stalling out on the series. I even finished it. I’m on the second draft now, and it’s going great guns. Now that I know the story and the characters better, I can spot and fix all the problems. It’ll probably mean almost totally rewriting the entire first half, but I’m getting all sorts of great ideas and fresh inspirations. I didn’t even have to walk on the beach. The third draft should be golden. Any time I get stuck on the series books I’ll just hop back to this one, and vice versa. If all else fails, I’ve got another possible series waiting in the wings. It’s still in the nebulous stages, though, so I’ll let it simmer for a while.

So once more into the breach. I will write a book a month this year. I don’t have much of a choice. I’ve never had to live with credit card debt and I don’t aim to start. To keep myself on track, and accountable, I’m throwing myself back into the habit of posting a blog once a week. I promise you, every Monday something will appear in this space. Might be an update, might be a rant, might be an excerpt or even a flash scene. Maybe I’ll post redacted copies of my hospital bills. Let them serve as a warning to others. You might have a good job now and be healthy as a horse, but that can change in the blink of an eye. Trust in Allah, but tie up your camel. Happy writing!

How Not to Get Rich Quick

Quickie post here. I want to scrub the bad taste of this out of my mouth as fast as I possibly can.

The setup: for the last eight years I've been doing freelance work for a company that shall remain anonymous. Things were great for the first several years. A while back, though, the work flow began to slow, even before Covid screwed up the world. Over the past year it's gotten less and less. There's a better-than-good chance it could stop completely. Maybe it already has. We're already a week into August and I haven't gotten any assignments yet.

The problem: I've been relying on that income. I've got Social Security, but it's not quite enough to cover my monthly bills. I had savings, but sudden tax and health issues earlier in the year all but wiped those out. If my job is truly done, I need to find replacement funds before the winter heating and insurance bills hit.

I know: I was supposed to be writing and submitting all this time. I didn't, and now the bill for my complacency is about to come due. So I went looking for replacements, something to bring in some quick extra cash. What's known in today's world as a "side hustle."

Which is how I came across the "job" of answering surveys for pay.

Yes, this is a thing. There are legitimate sites that will pay you to give them your opinion on just about anything, from your favorite foods to what car you'd love to own to who you think should be President. For 5-30 minutes of your time, you receive from 3 to 200 or more points for completing a survey (1 point = 1 cent; 100 points = a dollar, etc.) You can spend as much or as little time on it as you want, and fill out as many or as few in a day as you care to. When you're ready to cash out, you redeem your points for gift cards, prepaid debit cards, or send the funds to PayPal or your bank account. The sites I'm referring to are places like Survey Junkie, Swagbucks, Inbox Dollars and Opinion Outpost, all verified by the Better Business Bureau and certified legit. Testimonials from satisfied survey-takers abound, with stories of cashing in for hundreds of dollars a week for work you do in your spare moments.

These are, of course the exceptions. The sites themselves warn this isn't supposed to take the place of a job. However, modest amounts like $1-$5 a day is easily doable. In a month's time, that mounts up. If you're in the habit of squandering four to six hours a day or more playing video games--as I did all too often while battling my gaming addiction--why not fill out surveys instead and at least make money for your wasted time? There are even sites (like Swagbucks) that will pay you to play games and watch videos, which I was doing for free. They don't pay much, but it still beats nothing.

But it doesn't beat it by much. Here's what none of the sites tell you: these surveys are put out by companies, ad agencies and marketing firms. Their ultimate goal is to sell a lot of crap to as many people as possible for as much as they can charge. They'll happily pay to get the opinions of--and personal info on--people with jobs, people with kids, young adults active on social media, rich and active retirees, and diversity consumers because diversity is hot right now and those markets have barely been tapped. If you're in one or more of these demographics then yes, it's possible you could earn yourself a hefty bit of  side change for telling others what you like and don't like about a product.

If you're a single, straight white woman over 60 with no kids or grandkids to indulge and very little in the way of disposable income, not so much.

Here was my experience. Thursday I took the plunge and signed up for Survey Junkie. I got 50 points right off the bat just for signing on. So far, so good. I took my first surveys and within an hour or so had earned my first dollar. Yay, me!

That's about as good as it got. It was all downhill from there.

Yeah, there were surveys with big payouts. A lot of 200 pointers, some for 300 or more. Maybe if I'd qualified for more of those I'd have stuck it out. In order to get those points you have to fill out the survey, and in order to do that, you have to qualify. I'd spend 5-10 minutes answering the same background questions over and over--What is your zip code? What is your age? Are you male or female?--and then get confronted with "The rest of the questions on this 180-point survey aren't relative to you, so we'll stop you here. But here's 3 points as a consolation prize." Thanks a heap. Y'know how long it takes to earn a dollar when you have to do it three points at a time? I don't, because I knew doing the math would depress me. At least the "this survey is filled" message came up right away, before I'd wasted too much time. I got a bunch of those, too.

But I hung in there, stopping back sporadically through Friday and Saturday. I got lucky and scored a couple of decent ones. By Sunday I'd gotten my total up to $8.70. That's for, what, about ten hours of work spread out over three days? Not to mention they were offering me fewer and fewer surveys, and even those were cutting me off before the maximum payout.

Then the site offered me a chance to sign up directly with the marketing outfits. That's how I ended up on Opinion Outpost. I figured that would suit me better. I've got opinions on all sorts of things. Except the same thing happened on this new site, at an even lower payout rate. They'd take my personal info and then tell me I didn't qualify. Guess I'm not the droid they're looking for.

I was signed up with Opinion Outpost for roughly two hours. Then I got frustrated and quit. They can keep the dime I earned. Then I went back to Survey Junkie and redeemed my 870 points for a cash transfer to my bank. Once that went through I quit them too. The tension and frustration just wasn't worth it. I actually feel less stressed now. The good part is that it's motivated me to start writing again, now that I know how hideous some of the alternatives are. After that, sitting at a keyboard and pounding out words with no guarantee anyone will pay me for them doesn't feel all that bad.

Your mileage may vary, of course. You could be one of those fortunate $100-or-more-a-week people. And I could win the lottery. That's all writing's ever been, when you think about it. And now it's back to fiction for me. Caveat emptor, y'all.   

Your Tax Dollars at Work

This incident happened a while ago, back around January. I’m just now getting around to posting the story. Yes, I still have serious issues with procrastination and work avoidance. I’m working on it.

Anyway. I’ve been a fan of comic books since I learned to read, although I don’t buy any on a regular basis any more. I got older, my tastes changed, comics changed, comics got more and more expensive and I needed the money for groceries. I still keep up with what’s going on with Marvel and DC, and I’ve seen most of the movies from both companies. (On DVD from the library. Movies got too expensive years ago. Not to mention crappy.) Avengers: Endgame seemed like a good stopping point: it was everything the comics I grew up with used to be but aren’t any more. The last movie I saw in a theater was Spider-Man: No Way Home, and that was mostly for the nostalgia factor; Tobey Maguire will always be my movie Spider-Man. The first comic book I’ve bought in years is the topic of this blog.

For the non-fans, a quick catch-up: Marvel and DC aren’t the only two companies, just the biggest. These days Marvel (Spider-Man; the X-Men) is owned by Disney, while Time/Warner owns DC (Batman and Superman). Then we have Image, Dark Horse, IDW and a bunch of other smaller companies floating around the edges. Plus there are independent creators who use crowdfunding platforms like Indigogo to bankroll their publishing efforts. All of these involve physical print endeavors. There may be other creators whose work is solely available on the internet, but I’m not familiar with them.

And now we’ve got Eric July.

Like me and a lot of other long-time fans, July had stopped buying books from the Big Two because he wasn’t happy with the direction the companies had taken and the disrespect he felt was being shown his childhood heroes. So he decided to make his own comics. Except he didn’t stop at just that. Instead of going the crowdfunding route, he chose to eliminate all the middlemen and start his own comic book company, creating, writing, printing and distributing graphic novels starring his own creations in his own shared universe. He hired an artist, put the book together, created some merchandise (shirts and posters), promoted all this on his YouTube channel and, in July 2022, opened up shop with a 70+-day sales campaign. The comic was a 90-some page graphic novel on quality paper, priced at $35. July’s stated campaign goal was $100,000 in sales.

By the end of the campaign, he had earned $3.7 million. That’s million with a capital M, folks. Not bad for his first-ever comic book.

There’s more to his story—his second issue’s sales campaign is currently ongoing, and a lot of folks in the industry and on YouTube and Twitter are not at all pleased by his success. But that’s not what this story’s about. This is just the background. We now return to your regularly scheduled blog, already in progress.

I wasn’t part of the initial campaign. I came in when the mudslinging started. It made for entertaining viewing on July’s YouTube channel. I looked into his website and decided $35 was too much for my wallet at that point in time. However, my finances picked up after Christmas, so for my January birthday I decided to treat myself and support a fellow writer and former mainstream comics fan by buying a copy of his book.

This is where I ran afoul of the US Postal Service.

I had no trouble placing my order and paying for my purchase. Mr. July had no trouble accepting my money and shipping me my book. They even sent me an email letting me know the order had been filled, with a tracking number so I could follow its journey. (The new company is in Texas, while I’m in Pennsylvania.) I had fun checking in once or twice a day to see how things were going. Anticipation soared when I saw the book had arrived at the Lancaster distribution center and would probably be delivered at my house the following day.

Here’s where the system broke down.

The next morning I logged on and clicked the tracking info. The book was still in Lancaster. Then it was en route to Ephrata. Then it was in Ephrata. Then communication stopped. There was no information; the book had disappeared. Oh wait, there it was. For reasons known only to the postal gods, my package, which had made it all the way from Texas and safely arrived at the Ephrata Post Office, which is maybe a mile from where I live, had inexplicably been rerouted and delivered to the Christiana Post Office on the other side of the county. Uh, whut?

 Time to take personal action. Armed with my tracking number, I drove over to the PO and asked them what happened. They didn’t know. They had no explanation. The best they could give me was that the package had somehow been mislabeled and sent to Christiana by mistake. How did it get mislabeled? Shrugs all around. It must have had the right label on it to start with or it wouldn’t have been sent to Ephrata. So the mislabeling had to have happened at the Ephrata Post Office. Why and by whom? Again, no concrete answers. It was probably a machine because we all know government employees never make mistakes. All they could do was have it sent back to the Lancaster distribution center and start over. All I could do was go home and wait.

Well, they did get it sorted out by that evening, as I saw on the tracking info. It was returned to the Ephrata PO by morning and I finally got it by noon. The book was in good shape. Nice quality product. The story and art wasn’t bad. Better than I’ve seen from a lot of offers out of the Big Two lately. If Mr. July can keep this up, he’s got a winner on his hands. Can’t say the same for the Post Office.

This may wind up becoming a continued story. Like I said, July’s currently running his second campaign for issue #2. This time I ordered early. He’s going to start shipping orders out at the end of this month, via UPS. UPS has announced it’s going on strike at the start of August. Here we go again. Well, I’ve still got all my old comic books stashed in the closet. At least I’ll have something to read.

 

  

Here's Where the Fun Begins

 

I might as well admit it now: the series has officially gone on the back burner. It’s not dead, it’s just resting. The side project is now the main project. I’ve been typing up the longhand in between paid assignments, doing spot research as I go along. Eventually I’ll reach the point where I’ll need to go to Philadelphia to scout locations. Sure, I could do that through Google Maps and websites, but where’s the fun in that? I deliberately chose Philly as my location because it’s within driving distance. Any excuse to get out of the house and not work.

Currently I’ve hit a bit of a snag. I read over the longhand before I type it up, in case I need to fix, add, subtract or otherwise change something. Well, Chapter 5 is going to need to be entirely rewritten. It introduces a main cast member, who I didn’t know when I created her. I discovered who she was as I went along. Now that I’m on the second draft, I need to make her match up with what I learned about her in the first draft. For instance, I’d originally intended for her and the PI main character to hook up. That isn’t how it turned out. She ended up hooking up with the caveman and the PI found love elsewhere, with a character I hadn’t even conceived of when I started writing. Hence the need for a new Chapter 5.

Because that’s both the joy and the bane of being a pantser: there’s no road map. You sit down and you find out what happens. You may not even have a plot when you begin; I didn’t with this book. I started with two characters and a premise: a caveman, claiming to be a fictional character, hires a private investigator to track down his author and find out why he’s been pulled into the real world. Plot, characters, incidents, ending and themes all popped up as I went along. When I was done I had a contradictory mess, but at least it had a linear plot and a satisfactory ending. And both my protags found true love. Who could ask for anything more?

That was the first draft. Now I’m on the second draft, where I have to make it all make sense. The second draft is for actual writing. Here’s where the fun begins.

For example: the woman in Chapter 5. She’s another fictional character, a ripoff of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. (The publisher specialized in pulp-style knockoff series.) She was pretty generic when I started writing her. Then a chapter or so later, out of nowhere, she started speaking with a New England accent, surprising both me and my PI protag. Not a problem; far from it, in fact. It helped me develop her background. She’s a descendant of Puritans, trained to hunt and destroy supernatural monsters that threaten humanity. As the story went along, I discovered she’s also part demon and can talk to ghosts. For her intro, all I needed was to establish the accent, and show a flash of demon red in her eyes to convince the PI that a) she wasn’t just into cosplay, and b) there might just be something to the caveman’s outrageous story after all. She clinches it with another bit I’d originally introduced later on: she has a magic wad of cash that never runs out, so she can handle expenses when she’s on a case. Proof she’s not from around here. It also explains how fictional characters eat and have homes when they never appear to work at paying jobs. It helps the PI accept the Twilight Zone episode he’s now living in, and he allows her to join their hunt for the missing writer. And now we’re on our way.

Sounds like a pain in the ass, doesn’t it? Yeah, it can be at times. It can also be a lot of fun. Because this is primarily a mystery story, it allows me to play with the readers. The search for the missing writer is just the surface plot. One of the characters isn’t who he appears to be. This leads to a major twist at the climax, which I need to set up so readers won’t throw the book across the room. That means sprinkling in the kinds of clues that don’t look like clues but make sense when you get to the end. A great one hit me out of nowhere as I was nearing the end of the book. I decided to leave that aspect in, and have started laying the groundwork all the way back in Chapter 1. It also ties in to a side note I included that came from the original flash scene, where the caveman complains about retcons—how his writer gave him a sister and killed her off all in the space of a page, and he’s left to deal with memories and emotions for a person who never existed until that moment. That’s a clue now. Wonder if M. Night Shyamalan had as much fun writing The Sixth Sense as I am with this?

That picture up top is a clue too. It’s the scene in Star Wars where Han Solo says, “Here’s where the fun begins.” Mr. Ford never personally appears in my story, but his influence is felt. Indirectly, he’s the reason the writer ends up living where the characters finally find him. Personally, I’m more in the Indiana Jones camp, wandering around a jungle of words looking for hidden treasures. Not to mention my favorite Indy line: “I’m making this up as I go.” If that’s not a pantser, I don’t know what is. For you other pantsers out there, have a blast!

The World's Best Motivator

First of all, updates. Once again I got completely blocked on the series, but I did finally complete the side project, back around the end of last year. It turned out pretty decently. Recently—like, the other week—I started a second draft, now that I know what the plot is and have a better handle on who the characters are. I was going to knuckle down and get back into writing in March, but my paying job had other ideas and I ended up booked solid in back-to-back assignments for the entire month. Throw in another flare-up of my video game addiction and March was pretty much a wash, as far as writing was concerned. January and February didn’t fare much better, for similar reasons.

But that was March. It’s a whole new month now, and I’ve got a whole new reason to get off my butt and get serious about producing books to put out on the market. This could finally be the motivator that pokes a hole in my procrastination balloon.

Thanks to aging and a low taxable income, for the last several years I’ve qualified to have my taxes done for free by the United Way. At first it was necessary: even with the low income, I needed to file a tax return in order to qualify for affordable health insurance. Me turning 65 and already being on Social Security automatically got me enrolled on Medicare, which took care of that. But I still have to file taxes every year, due to the paying job. It doesn’t pay what it used to, but between that and Social Security I can get by pretty well. The problem is that it’s contractor work, so technically I’m self-employed. Which means the outfit I’m working for doesn’t take taxes out of my monthly paycheck; I have to account for that myself, plus the percentage allotted to SS and Medicare. Let’s stop and ponder for a moment the fact I’m both collecting and still obliged to pay into SS and Medicare, and then we’ll move on to the punch line.

For the last three-four years I’ve been okay. I always end up paying local taxes, but it’s a fairly small amount. State and Federal usually evened out, but again, at a small amount. The last two years I’ve owed State taxes, but it’s been so low and given my age I’ve qualified for tax forgiveness and didn’t have to pay anything. That’s something I wouldn’t have known about, which is why I’m happy to let trained volunteers calculate my taxes for me.

Here’s something else I didn’t know about: the Earned Income Credit deduction I’ve been getting should have ended when I turned 65. Except the Feds extended it because so many people hit the financial skids when Covid shut everything down. I’ve been getting a bonus deduction these last couple years and didn’t know. This year the Feds put an end to the Covid aid extensions, cancelling my Earned Income Credit. Which left me owing the Federal government $700 in taxes. So that’s what a heart attack feels like.

It gets better. The tax pro recommended I pay estimated quarterly taxes to avoid this happening again next year. This is how contractors, and freelance writers and editors, usually handle it. Which is fine if you’re not already living paycheck to paycheck. And don’t have any unexpected other expenses. Like the root canal I’m already scheduled for next week. At least Medicare will cough up a portion of that.

The easiest solution, of course, would be to drop the paid job. Except that would leave me even worse off financially. Given the number of layoffs I went through during my 35 years in the workplace (five times, in four different professions) and the fact most of the jobs from the ‘90s onward barely paid a living wage, I’m lucky I qualified for Social Security in the first place. The contract job keeps me just above water, and now the gov’mint wants their cut again. Yes, the same gov’mint that keeps threatening to gut Social Security and Medicare. Wonder how much Mitch McConnell paid in taxes last year?

And don’t tell me to cut back. I’ve done that. I’ve been doing that. Prices keep going up anyway. Don’t tell me to find another job that pays better. Now that I’m on SS, I’m only allowed to earn so much per month. Go over the limit and they dock the difference from your SS payment, so everything evens out again.

The only solution, at least in my case, is to get my fingers in gear and start writing. Royalties are still income and still get taxed, but they only come in on a quarterly basis. Maybe I can slip them in through the back door and not screw up the SS payments. I might even be able to stash most in a separate account to cover taxes in the spring, freeing up the SS and contractor income for everyday expenses, with a little left over for fun. Or a miracle could happen and I could hit it big, and wouldn’t even need the other paychecks. It happened to E. L. James, and the guy who wrote The Martian, and the woman who cashed in on Bigfoot porn. Anything can happen, and a girl can dream.

And that’s why I’ll be hopping back into the saddle and getting the series written, while also tackling the second draft of the side project and who knows, writing a couple of shorter things along the way. United States Federal Government, I owe it all to you. Literally. I’ll be seeing you folks at the ballot box. Don’t expect me to contribute to anyone’s re-election campaign. 

The Fault's in My Stars

 

Hey there! Welcome back. Where have I been and what have I been up to? The usual: screwing off, losing track to time, getting caught up in the paid work and making a lot of excuses. Somehow I managed to finish the side project; that’s currently sitting in longhand form on my nightstand, waiting for me to start researching and rewriting. Still marginally stalled on the series, but I’m getting back into it, slowly but surely.

The good news is, all this foot-dragging isn’t my doing. It’s the fault of the universe itself.

How so? I’ll tell you. Back around October, I think it was, I was having my morning tea with the radio on and the morning show DJs started talking about astrology and Mars being in retrograde. I paused to pay attention, and learned the planet Mars is a source of aggression, activity and motivation. When Mars goes into retrograde, the opposite takes hold. Energy flags, motivation sags, progress drags and next to nothing gets done. Until Mars moves into a better galactic headspace, you’re just pretty much screwed.

In short, the universe itself is against me. I knew it all along!

So that’s the reason you haven’t heard from me, and why I’m having trouble focusing on my goals and cutting it close on the paid work’s deadlines and making next to no headway on the writing. Damn Mars fell down on the job and dragged the rest of us along with it. According to the person on the radio, this bad patch, which has been going on since before Halloween, will end on January 12. Just in time for Friday the 13^th, which comes with its own negative baggage.

Not that I’ve ever really believed in astrology or superstition, but when the alternative is to admit you’re either depressed or lazy, which straw are you going to grab at?

So don’t expect too much from me until at least the end of next week. At least I didn’t need to waste time and energy making resolutions this year. Of course, once the retrograde ends I’ll be out of excuses (and, coincidentally, out of paid work, unless they book me up with more assignments) and may have to actually put my money where my mouth is and start pounding out publishable product.

Hmmm…wonder what Saturn is up to these days…?