Before I go any further, I want to address something. In the leadup to Bunny Boy’s release, I also stated that I was working on a mini-memoir that would go along with it in the back of the paperback editions. It was to be titled Radio Silence and a Whisper in the Static and was to chronicle my steep decline into depression after college graduation, through working at a shitty little convenience store, and, ultimately, how writing Bunny Boy saved my life. For those of you who bought the book in hardcopy, you might have noticed that that essay is noticeably absent. That is for three reasons: 1.) I ran out of time editing it; 2.) I no longer felt comfortable with it, considering some of the subject matter in it; and 3.) It would have been dated upon release. The time crunch of editing is the easiest one to explain. Sometimes, you just run out of time when you’re on a deadline and you have to cut stuff. It happens. With the second point…I talked a lot about my college years and my experience with certain people and I just felt like it wasn’t in good taste for me to let it out into the world in the shape it was in.
The third reason is perhaps the most interesting one. From just before the halfway point through the end of the piece, I am an employee of GPM Investments, a tyrannical corporation that runs shitty little gas station/convenience stores in the southeastern part of the country. If you’re from that neck of the woods, you’ve been in those shitty little stores before. Scotchman. Fas Mart. Bread Box. Jiffy Stop. Jiffi Stop, with an “i”. The one I worked at was a Roadrunner Market. I was the assistant store manager. And a bulk of the essay discusses my absolute distain for the job. During what I thought was going to be the final pass of editing for the essay, I was fired. It was on October 5th at 3:13 in the morning. I was working on that very essay as well as approving final edits for Bunny Boy. It was quiet. Nobody on the roads. Then, a masked coward came busting in with a gun pointed at me. He told me to give him all the money in the register. I did. And because there was ten dollars over the allotted amount in my drawer, I was shitcanned. I tried to work on the essay after that but couldn’t. The taste in my mouth when talking about that store was just too sour for me to take. So, I put it aside, finished up Bunny Boy the best I could with a trembling hand and thrust it out there. I thought the essay was pretty good and I might go back, do some edits to make me a little more comfortable with it, and release it for free as a part of this FROM THE DESK blog. The keyword there being might.
In April, shortly after his eighty sixth birthday, my grandfather, Jackie D. “Jack” Williams, passed away. And that took its toll on me. I was his little buddy for my entire life and then he was just gone, not a rhyme or reason for it. I won’t go much more into that. This little blog isn’t to work out my demons and you all aren’t my therapists so I’ll spare you from the bulk of it. I did get a story out of it, though. It’s a novelette titled The Fifth Line. I think it’s pretty solid.
And that leads me to the biggest surprise of the year. After the initial trauma of getting robbed at gunpoint and the shock of being fired that followed, I was in a freefall. I was tying up loose ends on the book while trying to keep my sanity and, for the first time in a long time, I lacked any concrete direction. It was stripped from me from forces out of my control. And the strangest thing about it is, while I was fucked over and hurt by how it all went down, I still felt this new brightly burning bursts of freedom that I can’t quite describe. I went jobhunting and, by fate or maybe just dumb luck, I got hired on as a substitute teacher for a local school system where I subbed for all of two days…because that first day I subbed, the classroom I was in would turn into a full-time position with full benefits and higher pay. Now, I’m on track to becoming a full-on special education teacher and, for the first time in many years, things are starting to look up.
2022, like most of the last decade, ended up being one of the worst years of my life. There’s no sense in me trying to deny it. But with that, I think it also should be credited as a turning point in my life. It was truly transitional. Now it’s a new year. And unlike most new years, I don’t approach this one with trepidation and dread but hope. It’s going to be a good year. More changes for the better. Hope springs eternal. Isn’t that what they say?
On the writing side of things, I don’t have anything set in stone for 2023. I might release The Fifth Line as an e-book exclusive story. Again, the keyword there being might. I’ve started some edits. Other than that, I might do a Halloween story this year or the next. Whenever I get around to it, I guess. I’ve got a new novel chugging along that I’m really enjoying but it’s WAY too early to talk about it. I’ve got a couple of other novel ideas that I might start chipping away on soon but that other project is my priority at the moment. I’ll probably write some short stories and put them out at some point. I have my eye on a new collection. I’ve also got a nonfiction book I’ve been kicking around. But all of those things are still a little ways away so, there won’t be anything major in 2023 and probably not in 2024 either. But hey, you never know… 😊
-CW