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Guest post

Hey, just thought you all should know I've done a guest blog post over at colleenanderson.wordpress.com. It's kind of personal, and talks about how I decided to do my webcomic and the issues I was dealing with at the time. Check it out at https://tinyurl.com/ybahaue5.
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Lifting

As a writer, you have to portray every kind of emotion, from the darkest hate to the brightest joy. And just like anything else, the more you do it the better you get, learning through experience. But there’s another process that happens at the same time. Using a muscle over and over doesn’t just build a skill, it builds the muscle itself. You don’t just become better, you become stronger. I realized, not too long ago, that I can use this principle in my own life. Specifically, in dealing with grief. I’ve lost a lot in the last three years. And the weight of that loss, when I think about it, is crushing. So I do what we all do—I try not to think about it. I distract myself with writing, reading, watching Netflix, socializing with friends. But you can’t do that forever; sooner or later it’s just you and your thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts seem intent on kicking the crap out of you. I’m not talking about the negative, self-destructive ones that whisper about how you’re not good enough and you’re going to die alone. That’s a whole different fight. No, I’m talking about the ones that can’t be fought, because they’re true. They’re simple, undeniable facts: Your father is dead. Your marriage is over. You are no longer a young man. These thoughts don’t attack; they just sit on your chest and make it hard to breathe. But here’s the thing. You take a heavy weight and let it rest on your chest, and at first it just hurts. But you do that day after day—on purpose—and you let that weight sit there a little longer each time, and slowly you get used to it. The pain doesn’t lessen, but how you deal with it does. So that’s what I’m doing. Emotional weightlifting. Deliberately letting myself feel that pain instead of avoiding it. Just a bit at a time, whenever I have the strength. Because while grieving is always painful, that pain can be managed. And hopefully, in the end, it’ll make me stronger.
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Operation Recharge

The plan for this summer to was recharge—emotionally, physically, and creatively—and I’m happy to report that things are going well. I’ve spent the last ten days or so in the beautiful Cowichan Valley on Vancouver Island with relatives, hanging out and getting back into the groove of writing. I’ve dipped my toe into a few different projects, and am slowly but surely re-establishing a routine. Physically, I’m feeling pretty healthy, though fatigue is still a factor. Emotionally, I’m still healing, but being surrounded by people that love me is doing me a world of good. Creatively, I’m finding that the project that I’m most excited by is my webcomic, CROSSOVER; I’m going to post over at collaborativecomics.com on how that’s going and put up a few images. Hopefully, the fall will see me tackling prose fiction again. BTW, local legend has it that there’s a Cowichan tribe that intermarried with a race of Thunderbirds, a detail I use in my Whiskey, Tango and Foxtrot mysteries, (written as Dixie Lyle). So maybe this recharge has a little lightning to it—I swear I saw a spark in the eye of my barista at the local café . . .
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HEY, IS THERE ANYBODY OUT THERE?

So. I haven’t posted much of anything since 2014. Three years. Three, frankly, of the worst years of my life. Let’s see if I can break ‘em down (Lord knows they did their best to break me down) to a few bullet points: 1) I got sick. Fibromyalgia. Drained of all energy and unable to concentrate, I spent most of my time in bed. I was forced to stop writing. 2) My dad got cancer. He died earlier this year. I sorted through every paper he ever owned, decided to what to keep and what to throw away, and helped my mom move to a new place. 3) At the height of my illness and just before my dad died, my wife left me. There was no big drama, no cheating or drug abuse or anything like that—she just thought we had nothing in common any more. Or maybe she just got tired of living with someone who was sick all the time. 4) So, I lost my wife, my work, my dad and my home. But wait, there’s more! (Those of you who are becoming depressed, feel free to skip ahead.) Turns out that fibromyalgia is triggered by many different foods and substances, so I had to give up caffeine, alcohol, and so many different foods that I basically stopped eating in restaurants. My wife and son are vegetarian, and I could no longer eat soy or beans or most nuts, so I stopped eating with them. I was pretty low. But I refused to give up--I came up with a plan, and I followed through. My health has improved to the point where I can function again. I’m living in a new place. I’m ready, finally, to get back to writing. And I thought I’d start here. Telling my readers where I’ve been and why I’ve been gone. Documenting some of my journey as a way of getting back to the writing life, and telling people what I’m planning on working on. Hopefully, I’ll even get a little encouragement—though I’ve been away for so long I don’t know if any of my fans are still out there. Maybe I’ll just wind up writing for myself . . . which is fine. It’s how I started out, after all. This is my first post, but I’ll do my best not to make it my last. How’s everyone doing out there?