I'm thankful for very little this year. The only truly good thing that happened, at least as far as I can see now (because who knows, things may change down the road) has been that I kept writing. I got fired, moved back with the folks, had my best scripts torn to shreds, was single the whole year, got a job I dislike with a horrible woman who can only be described as villain-fodder, and and had my car, computer, and two xboxen crap out on me. Hell, my online dating profile is even disappointing. So, see ya later, 2015. You were a thing.
This year looks better though. I found my consistent writing weakness and I'm hitting these next two with renewed vigor, specifically aiming to patch up my weak spots, like Smaug slipping armor over his missing scale. Meaning that, once these are done, people should be able to see these and think "This guy is a motherfucking dragon. Let's give him a mound of gold to sleep in!" But in all honesty, dragons are cliche, and 2016 feels good. At least the whiffs I get on the wind are promising.
I'm working on a pair of promising scripts that more-or-less fall in with what the readers told me they wanted. I have new people I can hang out with, and am considering moving to a nearby city. I have a new fighting helmet that should be coming any day now. And it looks like I'll be done with this script's rough draft tonight yet. There's booze in the garage and I just made a new Skyrim character based on my cat.
Strangely, I have this little reassuring voice too, telling me "It's all going to work, just keep going. Keep going until it's done. Trust me, this thing'll happen. I wouldn't lie to you." So either my subconscious has a budding alter-ego that's super positive, it's the thing (I'm hesitant to say deity, because I have no idea what it is.) that told me to do this initially, or I'm programmed to self-motivate. Who fucking knows.
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