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Well, hot damn, a new year.
2020 was obviously a shitshow on a global scale, and I struggled to really… say anything about it. I meant to maybe journal about it, either on paper or on dreamwidth, and I just couldn’t quite make it happen.
The biggest thing I can say re: said global shitshow is that I have gotten to the point where I’m no longer simply frustrated or upset by people who aren’t taking the pandemic seriously, I’ve tipped over to being ANGRY about it. I have done everything I can: not going out unless I have to, wearing a mask always, not seeing any of my friends, or even my family unless it’s outside and at a distance… and the number of jackwads who act like it’s nothing make it feel worthless. I know it isn’t, I know that doing what I can is all I have control over, but I am ANGRY every time someone teehee talks about how they’re traveling, or refuse to wear a mask, or how they’re getting together for parties at friends’ houses, etc.
I’ve also gotten to the point of being angry on a different, even more helpless level regarding how work is the ONLY thing that we have nationally cared to preserve. Plenty of much smarter and more articulate people have talked about why this is awful, and how that’s largely to blame for people not taking it seriously or taking unnecessary risks. But being told that I can’t see my younger sibling or my parents or go do anything with anyone because it’s too dangerous to them or to me, yet also being told that by god, I better be at work and deal face-to-face with strangers all day is a particular kind of hell. Not one I’m alone in, but even so.
(Thank god I live with Alex, because as a-social as I am, if I’d been completely alone this whole time I don’t know how I would have coped.)
Fortunately, Alex and I, as well as my immediate family, have all stayed healthy (or at least not gotten Covid.) My stepbrother caught it, but recovered. Most of my extended Roswell family caught it, including my great-aunt Lanelle, who passed away in November. Everyone else seems to be recovering.
While I didn’t manage to write down my feelings about historic-level events happening, I did do a fair amount of writing. “Just” fanfic stuff, but fuck it: I wrote and I enjoyed it.
I finished “Potentials”, that Superhero AU fic, which wound up nearly 70k words. I did AU-gust, which was a 31-day list of prompts with a different AU for every day in August, and I actually managed 31 fics in 31 days. I wrote a few other fic oneshots for a discord server (Summer/Fairytale/Halloween themed.) And I’ve exhaustively plotted a KH/Howl’s Moving Castle fusion fic that’s about 1-2 chapters away from the rough draft being completed. That means I’ve written probably between 150k-200k words this year, not counting things other than fic.
Really, that feels like the only tangible “achievement” I have to go on. Especially with that whole global pandemic thing, I haven’t done much besides go to work and come home. Maybe “having a job” is an achievement, too.
Not sure what more to say about it. I kinda want to just write 2020 off with the same enormous middle finger most people are offering it, while understanding that an arbitrary marker of the passage of time isn’t going to change anything. Still, 2021, new year, maybe just feeling like there’s some fresh start is worth something.
Gonna probably set some writing goals for myself, as I usually do. Maybe I’ll try to do a habit-tracker again, (with or without a bullet journal type deal) which I only kept up briefly back in 2019 (I think?) but liked. There are a few other things I’d like to do as well, but setting them as hard and fast goals isn’t appealing. I’d like to get into better shape, I’d like to read more, I’d like to keep in some kind of contact with people (whether that’s dreamwidth, tumblr, discord, or someday in-person again.) I’m not sure I want to quantify them just yet, but those are at least the vague personal hopes I’m recording for the year.
Let’s hope it’s a better one.
2020 was obviously a shitshow on a global scale, and I struggled to really… say anything about it. I meant to maybe journal about it, either on paper or on dreamwidth, and I just couldn’t quite make it happen.
The biggest thing I can say re: said global shitshow is that I have gotten to the point where I’m no longer simply frustrated or upset by people who aren’t taking the pandemic seriously, I’ve tipped over to being ANGRY about it. I have done everything I can: not going out unless I have to, wearing a mask always, not seeing any of my friends, or even my family unless it’s outside and at a distance… and the number of jackwads who act like it’s nothing make it feel worthless. I know it isn’t, I know that doing what I can is all I have control over, but I am ANGRY every time someone teehee talks about how they’re traveling, or refuse to wear a mask, or how they’re getting together for parties at friends’ houses, etc.
I’ve also gotten to the point of being angry on a different, even more helpless level regarding how work is the ONLY thing that we have nationally cared to preserve. Plenty of much smarter and more articulate people have talked about why this is awful, and how that’s largely to blame for people not taking it seriously or taking unnecessary risks. But being told that I can’t see my younger sibling or my parents or go do anything with anyone because it’s too dangerous to them or to me, yet also being told that by god, I better be at work and deal face-to-face with strangers all day is a particular kind of hell. Not one I’m alone in, but even so.
(Thank god I live with Alex, because as a-social as I am, if I’d been completely alone this whole time I don’t know how I would have coped.)
Fortunately, Alex and I, as well as my immediate family, have all stayed healthy (or at least not gotten Covid.) My stepbrother caught it, but recovered. Most of my extended Roswell family caught it, including my great-aunt Lanelle, who passed away in November. Everyone else seems to be recovering.
While I didn’t manage to write down my feelings about historic-level events happening, I did do a fair amount of writing. “Just” fanfic stuff, but fuck it: I wrote and I enjoyed it.
I finished “Potentials”, that Superhero AU fic, which wound up nearly 70k words. I did AU-gust, which was a 31-day list of prompts with a different AU for every day in August, and I actually managed 31 fics in 31 days. I wrote a few other fic oneshots for a discord server (Summer/Fairytale/Halloween themed.) And I’ve exhaustively plotted a KH/Howl’s Moving Castle fusion fic that’s about 1-2 chapters away from the rough draft being completed. That means I’ve written probably between 150k-200k words this year, not counting things other than fic.
Really, that feels like the only tangible “achievement” I have to go on. Especially with that whole global pandemic thing, I haven’t done much besides go to work and come home. Maybe “having a job” is an achievement, too.
Not sure what more to say about it. I kinda want to just write 2020 off with the same enormous middle finger most people are offering it, while understanding that an arbitrary marker of the passage of time isn’t going to change anything. Still, 2021, new year, maybe just feeling like there’s some fresh start is worth something.
Gonna probably set some writing goals for myself, as I usually do. Maybe I’ll try to do a habit-tracker again, (with or without a bullet journal type deal) which I only kept up briefly back in 2019 (I think?) but liked. There are a few other things I’d like to do as well, but setting them as hard and fast goals isn’t appealing. I’d like to get into better shape, I’d like to read more, I’d like to keep in some kind of contact with people (whether that’s dreamwidth, tumblr, discord, or someday in-person again.) I’m not sure I want to quantify them just yet, but those are at least the vague personal hopes I’m recording for the year.
Let’s hope it’s a better one.
