So, there's a phrase that goes "man makes plans and God laughs" and another phrase that says "life is what happens while people plan" or something like that. This is just a way of me saying that life got busy and depression began hitting me a bit so my writing didn't happen much. But, things have gotten...well, life happens and things change.
We've lost our little chicken, HennyPenny, back in September. That was hard and, even though it was expected due to the injuries, I still didn't take it well.
Medical appointments kept us busy throughout October all the way to December (my wife's appointments and my mom's appointments). There was Hurricane Helene, which hit friends and coworkers, but not us.
Throughout all of this, I kept writing summaries my serial killer series. I hadn't started writing the first book yet. I just kept writing out summaries for the titled books, figuring out which book would fit where in the series, and how things worked. I worked on character lists for main characters, killers, side characters. I worked on keeping the ever-increasing number of books so I'd know which title went with which number. I wrote down notes on events that would happen so I'd have a record of it for when I reached that point in the series. I started the outline of the first book and when I stalled on that one, I began the outline for the second one only to stall very quickly. I still hadn't started writing the first book.
I worked on other projects, other ideas. Got a new computer (well, new to me--my wife's old one). Could use Microsoft Word, but that's neither here nor there. Maybe I'll get it for Christmas or something this year because Microsoft 365 just isn't the same and Google Docs is great and all, but not the same as MS Word. I discovered Copilot AI and chatted with it for advice about different topics, ranging from Dungeons & Dragons campaigns to help creating images of characters. I chatted with different AI chatbots because why not? It was a break from my routine.
We went to the circus. First time I've been to one; second time for my wife. It was fantastic. Met Mom's coworker and his family. Pretty cool dude. Planned on a game night. Played Cards Against Humanity. My wife won that first time. Second time, he did. But we'll have another game night eventually.
I discovered animatics for songs from the musical EPIC and fell in love with the entire album. Still obsessed with those songs and longing to write a Greek Dungeons & Dragons campaign. I watched Transformers One, loved the movie, though a certain voice acting choice for a certain well-known Decepticon was certainly a choice and not one I'm too sure works, though that could just be me. I thought D-16's transition to Megatron was fitting and the foreshadowing with his eyes going from gold to orange to red orange then finally the iconic red was fantastic. The movie reminded me that I'm a Transformers fan and I proceeded to bother my wife with my Transformers knowledge.
Politics happened, voting, election. Nothing much to say there.
My wife's computer desk moved to the extra bedroom so Mom wouldn't complain about how cluttered it was. We made plans for that spare room and for the stuff in storage, planned to move it from expensive to cheaper storage or from cheaper storage to the organized shed we have in our driveway. We had plans and that is where I think everything all went wrong.
On January first, my stepbrother told us he'd been told by his ex-wife that he needed to leave. He had nowhere else to go, so he's now living with us. There's been some...growing pains, I suppose you could call them, and I've got some mixed feelings about him being here. Initially, I was happy having him here, but now it feels like he'd rather my wife and I weren't here--you know, in the house that we own.
Since I've been feeling a bit unwelcome in my own house, I've not really felt like doing much of anything. I agreed to beta read a fanfiction for a friend since I've fallen into a routine and that fanfiction ignited a fire within me. Her writing reminded me of why I write, why I read, why I want to be an author. Her first chapter had me enraptured from the first sentence and desperate for more like a drowning man desperate for one more breath of life-giving air.
Her writing reminded me of the passion I'd lost during my sentence as an English major. Her writing reminded me of why I wanted to write in the first place. Her writing brought back the fire that my time in college writing soulless works that professors demanded had nearly smothered.
After reading her first chapter, I began working on the beginning of the first book of my serial killer series.
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