When the Wolf Comes

Sechin Tower

@SechinTower

Let me tell you about my disastrous December. One of my uncles died after a long, painful battle with cancer—the passing was a welcomed relief to him. Another uncle went to the hospital with sepsis following a surgery. A sister lost her apartment and had no place to go. My mother was scammed out of her entire life savings and was almost evicted. Obediently following Murphy’s Law, my car had a minor breakdown and my laundry machine burned out and filled the room with stinking smoke. (These mechanical troubles were certainly not emotional blows, but my bank account was already suffering after a month of disaster management.)

It never rains but it pours.

I’m sure we've all hit rough patches like that, where we wake up every morning wondering what fresh calamity awaits us that day. Eventually, I found myself becoming philosophical about the whole thing, and I took strength, as I often do, from literature and books.

This time around, I looked to Norse mythology. The Norse were a people who understood hard times, and they believed that even their gods were doomed to suffer and die. What’s more, their gods not only knew that they would eventually die but also the exact manner of their horrible, violent end. The carnage truly begins when Fenrir, the titanic wolf, appears in their hall to lead a pack of monsters to slay Thor, Odin, and all the rest.

Emil Doepler [PD US Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

For all their pessimism about mortal existence in an uncaring universe, the ancient storytellers did not advocate giving up. Rather than waste time bemoaning their fate, the Norse gods prepare themselves by seeking loopholes in the prophecy, training to respond to the conflict, and enjoying what they had while they had it. Even though they knew they couldn't win, they were ready to fight hard.

My own troubled December was no Ragnarok—in fact, considering all the wonderful people I still have in my life, it doesn't even qualify as a dress rehearsal. The wolf has not yet come for me, but his distant howling still prompted me to question a few of my assumptions. I realized that many of my priorities had been a little out of whack. It made selecting a New Year’s resolution easy: I’m resolved to remember that if something doesn't help my family/friends, my fellow human beings, my health, or my writing, then it simply doesn't matter.

By Seney Natural History Association (Female Gray Wolf) [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Of these priorities, my gut tells me that the writing is the thing I neglected too much during 2013. It wasn't because I procrastinated, but rather was because I failed to fight hard enough to do what I believe I was put here to do. In 2014, I’m going to take inspiration from the Norse and fight the good fight.

I can't change the rules of mortality, but it is my privilege to defy it, even if only for a short time. Therefore, when the wolf comes, I’ll be waiting to hit him on the nose with at least one new novel. That’s my resolution for this year.

Be good, and dream crazy dreams,

Sechin Tower is a teacher, a table-top game designer, and the author of Mad Science Institute. You can read more about him and his books on SechinTower.com, Facebook, or Twitter.

It Takes Work

By Dan Haring
 

Look at that picture again.

Good.

Why are you still here?

Well, since you are, I'll elaborate a little on what Batman is telling you.

In the last five years I've been able to accomplish some of my bigger personal goals. I worked on a comic book movie. I worked on a Disney animated film. I wrote a book that got published.

I'm not trying to brag, I'm trying to illustrate a point.

A few people have told me they wish they could do some of those things.

Guess what? They can. There's no secret to it, just like there's no secret to any success in life. You work hard, you hustle, and you try to be in the right place at the right time.

Sometimes you win.

Sometimes you lose.

It's hard.

It's supposed to be.

I'm not telling you I never procrastinate. I do. I've probably wasted hours looking at baby English bulldogs.

I mean seriously, how adorable are these little guys?

 But I've also been able to buckle down and get things done.

Because I had dreams and goals and didn't just sit there wishing they'd come true.

Because I wanted them, and I worked for them.

Comic book artist/writer Faith Erin Hicks tweeted something a while back that really stuck with me.

She said, "What did you do this weekend to get closer to your goal of working in comics?"

Substitute "working in comics" with "writing a book" or whatever your goal is, and then think about it.

What did you do?

And more importantly, what are you going to do now?

It's not going to fall in your lap.

You have to work for it.

But you can do it.

I believe in you.

And so does Batman.

THE DOG ATE MY BLOG

by Wendy Corsi Staub

I know, I know, I owe you guys a blog today. I started writing it--a fun and scintillating entry that's completely relevant to the literary world--over the weekend. I meant to have it ready to post at midnight, as I usually do, but, um, see...the dog ate my blog.

Not buying it?

Me neither. I don't have a dog and even if I did, he'd have had to gobble an iMac, track pad and all, in order for that excuse to fly.

So what really happened to the blog?

Sh*t. That's what happened. Doesn't it always?

Sh*t defined:

My husband went away on a business trip last week for what was supposed to be 5 days and turned into a full week.
The kids were dismissed from school at 10 a.m. the next day for the first snowstorm since Halloween.
My thirteen year-old son had 48 hours to learn to rollerskate--blindfolded--in the house--for his role in next week's school musical The Drowsy Chaperone.
The same kid dropped his laptop--NOT while rollerskating blindfolded, but "while watching Jon Stewart," as he earnestly explained to the inquiring Apple Genius Bar Genius--which entailed a 20-minute each-way trip to the Apple Genius bar on Saturday to drop it off, and another trip to pick it up--$280 of HIS FUTURE ALLOWANCE later--the next day.
My sixteen year-old--son #2--had 48 hours to learn to parallel park. Guess who got to teach him?
The Women were Telling All on The Bachelor.
We ate out every night at all the restaurants we like that my husband does not.
I had to hike an extra hour every day to work off all the extra restaurant food.
Back pain from all the extra hiking required prescription muscle relaxers that make blog-writing--and many other endeavors, such as talking and driving, but not sleeping--dicey business.
The fridge fizzled out and I had to empty it for a repairman, then sort through the contents and restock it--after writing a check for a $775 repair bill.
My thirteen year-old had to go to the orthodontist with a broken bracket.
My beloved Princess Kate was on the cover of People.
My agent kept calling to update me about a complicated, ongoing negotiation she's doing on my behalf.
My thirteen year-old's thirteen-year-old friend slept over. They tried to stay up all night. They did.
My sixteen year-old was out until well after midnight and needed to be picked up both Friday and Saturday night (usually my husband's department).
My special 14-day-loan library book--the tell-all by JFK Jr.'s secretary--is overdue.
I'm co-chair of the Cast Party committee for The Drowsy Chaperone. Cast Party: next Saturday. First meeting: yesterday. At my house.
Had to clean house.
The telemarketer I'd told three months ago to take me off her list...didn't.
The accountant needs all receipts for 2011 expenses sorted and itemized immediately for an 8 a.m. meeting this morning.
I'm delivering a keynote address at the PASIC conference today at 3 p.m. in Manhattan. No, it isn't written yet.
And Facebook...well, that's all I have to say about that. Facebook.

So, that's it. That's the sh*t that happened. And this is the fun and scintillating blog entry that resulted.

What? It's not either of those things?
Er...sorry. It's all I've got.

But my husband got back last night, and I have 2 whole weeks to work on my next blog. That...or get a dog with a huge appetite.