Category Archives: Thoughts and Musings

Escape from New York

Sorry for missing an entry (again) last week … I have really been struggling to find things to write about that aren’t somehow pandemic-related or at least pandemic-adjacent, and still determined not to have this become a pandemic blog for however long the situation lasts. Normally I can always write about my writing, but as I mentioned a bit ago, I’m not actually writing anything right now. So, uh, thus the struggle.

To avoid another missed week (and utterly breaking the habit of writing this thing, which I still think is valuable), I clutch at the following straw: I was doing my marking this week and some music from the Escape from New York soundtrack came on, which got me to thinking about a time a while ago where I found out a clever friend of mine had never seen Escape from New York, and after I made them watch it, their response back was basically “Why do you like this movie, exactly?”

Which is fair, because it is an extremely low-budget move from 1981 that can seem like such a cooke-cutter action movie (except, again, so low budget) that it’s easy to wonder why this movie is absolutely one of my favourites. Part of it is that I am a huge fan of John Carpenter, who (to me, anyway) does an absolutely great job at creating moods in his films, uses tension extremely skilfully, and tells fairly straight-ahead SF/horror stories that I basically always enjoy. (Yes, even Ghosts of Mars)

Some of the ‘cookie cutter’ nature of Escape is a bit unfair because, again, it’s a really old movie. So a lot of the action movies that a modern audience has seen do all this stuff were made after it. This is not really to argue that Escape was exactly cutting-edge (although, in terms of special effects on a budget, it kind of was) but coming to it now and feeling that you’ve seen it done a bunch of times before is sort of flipping the timeline backwards, unavoidable though it may be.

What’s fair is that the film is extremely basic in its premise and its cast of characters. We have a grim antihero protagonist who (not accidentally) is just about a cartoon version of the Action Hero. We have a ticking clock scenario, with impossible odds in the way and (literally) the fate of the world in the balance. Carpenter (I would argue) plays out that string adeptly and spins out a tale that is fun to watch, so long as your tolerance for ‘done on a budget’ is reasonable.

But, why is it one of my favorites? Well. The thing is that there’s more thought behind the film than you might initially think, and that’s what continues to give it impact for me. Carpenter imagines a world that completely abandons any sense of responsibility for the victims of a world economic collapse, literally kicking criminals ‘out of the world’ to fend for themselves in the ruins of an abandoned New York. We have a President of the United States who clearly does not give even the slightest fuck about the people he governs, and is only interested in the office for its own sake.

And our hero, Snake Plissken (really!), ex-war hero turned outlaw, ultimately decides (spoiler alert) that the institutions holding his troubled society together are simply not worth saving, based in no small part on their lack of regard for the ordinary people who perish helping him rescue their feckless President.

Carpenter says he wrote Escape in reaction to the Watergate scandal, and you can certainly see that, but I don’t think you have to squint very hard to see parallels to some of the situations we inhabit 40 years later, either. So, I feel like this is an old tale that still has some resonance for modern viewers.

Anyway. I didn’t have a real good answer for my friend when they asked, but that’s what I should have said.

Thanks for reading.

Catch you next week. Honest.

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Baseball, Stories

So, a day late on this one again, mostly because I couldn’t think of anything to write that wasn’t pandemic-related, and I have been determined not to make this All About The Pandemic, because frankly I already do more than enough thinking along those lines anyway, and I’m sure you’ve got all the pandemic content you could ever want or need as well.

But then (as of course often happens) as I was lying down to sleep, an idea occurred to me, because I was thinking about baseball*. Now, why was I thinking about baseball, in this odd season where major league ball is not being played, and gives no particular sign of being played? Partly, this doesn’t mean that there’s no baseball being played at all – the Korean league is playing in front of empty stadiums, and I have adopted the SK Wyverns as my team to follow from a (great) distance. Korean league baseball is a delight, with bat flips and teams named the Heroes and parts of the stadiums labelled ‘EXCITING ZONE’, but of course the Wyverns are terrible and it’s still all very far away.

So that wasn’t why.

I have also just finished reading a really excellent baseball book, Joe Posnanski’s The Soul of Baseball, which you should really give a read if you have even a tiny piece of affection for the sport. I would argue that a lot of people will probably enjoy it even if they’re not into baseball, but I can’t imagine a baseball fan not liking it.

But that wasn’t why, either.

The real reason is that one of the ways I have been passing some of my extra time in seclusion has been to get out my old tabletop baseball game (Avalon Hill’s Statis-Pro Baseball)** and playing out a little league with teams from 1985. Now why 1985? Because that’s not the year I bought the game, and in fact I ordered these cards special.

Well, if you’re a Blue Jays fan (or, I suppose a baseball historian) you may know that in 1985, the Jays had finally turned into a good team, good enough to win their division and get to the American League Championship Series, and even lead it 3 games to 1. The ALCS being a best-of-seven, they needed to win just one more game to go to the World Series. Instead of doing that, they would lose three straight, and the Kansas City Royals advanced to the championship, won it, and (with apologies to Joe Posnanski) I have loathed them ever since.

So, 1985 is a bit of a tantalizing ‘oh, what if’ in the minds of the right vintage of Jays fan, the sort of thing that games like Statis-Pro are somewhat uniquely suited to exploring. But, despite the heartbreak of how 1985 (and, really, all the efforts of those 1980s Blue Jays teams) ended up, I have a lot of affection for it because that’s more or less when I started becoming a fan of the team.

By which I mean, having an active interest in the team itself and hoping they would win rather than just watching a baseball game because it was something my father put on in the living room. I had favourite players (Jesse Barfield and the late Tony Fernández), and although I had tons to learn about how baseball really worked, I would watch the games and hope to see my heroes do well and (since they were pretty good that year) see them do some pretty amazing things.

Bit of a shock how it ended up, which is really the point I am (eventually) getting to. 1985 was also the year when (coming to this realization perhaps a bit late in life, but I have generally been behind the curve in various kinds of learning) the difference between sports and a story in a book, or a movie, came home. Because of course, had it been a book (or at least, the kind of books I would have been reading at the time), ‘the good guys’ wouldn’t really lose three straight games to their rivals, and they wouldn’t really not go to the World Series. Maybe they’d lose two, and then win the last vital game in dramatic fashion, but they’d never really fail utterly the way the Blue Jays did in 1985 (or the way they did an arguably even more heartbreaking thing in 1987).

One of the main reasons I enjoy watching sports is that you do get wonderful, exciting, amazing stories played out in front of you that challenge the limits of the imagination and would strain suspension of disbelief if someone did make them up that way. You genuinely cannot predict what might happen, no matter how well you know the conventions of drama and character and plot, because none of them apply.

But, of course, that’s also one of the strengths of the stories we write. We can tell the tale we want to tell, or want others to experience. Unless it suits our purpose, we don’t need to have our heroes, or our readers, experience their own 1985. That’s a big part of why I think fiction is always my first love, both for entertainment purposes, and as something I will always come back to creating***. Being able to tell, and to read, or watch stories where things end up as they should is such a powerful and important thing, and perhaps especially so during times where the ends appear uncertain.

.Keep creating, and keep reading.

Thanks for being here.

*-I did not leap out of bed and go write it, right then, thereby getting it published ‘on time’ because although deadlines are definitely a thing for me, I am just sane enough to recognize that the world does not exactly turn on the writing of this blog. Also, it was just past midnight anyway.

**-For the unfamiliar (thus, virtually everyone), Statis-Pro and games like it were simulations of baseball from the time before computers became ubiquitous. Each player has a card that rates their effectiveness at hitting, fielding, running the bases, and pitching, and with these and a bunch of arcane charts you can play out all these imaginary games. You can use the teams as they existed, or switch the players around and create new ones. If you have cards from different seasons, you can have pretend matchups that break the laws of time. It was exactly the sort of thing that would naturally appeal to a quiet kid with a good imagination who was also a baseball fan. I played a lot of Statis-Pro.

***-I was going to write a whole thing on this, but again, I don’t want to dwell too much on the pandemic situation. So: as I mentioned on my friend Jay Odjick’s podcast, I started out my seclusion period thinking about how much writing I would get done. For a variety of reasons, that hasn’t happened, and in fact, I have written exactly zero words during this time. I have, at times, felt very badly about this, especially while seeing writers I know be very productive. Most times, though, I feel able to recognize that there are good, legitimate reasons why I’m not able to write right now, and I know in my soul that I’ll get back to it.

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Little Steps

Just a few words this week on the subject of change, which seems to be much on people’s mind in a variety of contexts in recent days. I don’t pretend to be an expert on politics nor on activism, but studying history has given me a certain perspective that I think is frequently lost.

It’s nothing especially profound, just that change, real significant change, takes time. Generally it takes a very long time. One of the examples I use in my Western Civ classes, towards the end, is that it wasn’t until 1909 that a minimum wage for men was established in the UK. That was after decades of hard-fought struggle of various kinds, to achieve something we would absolutely take for granted as part of society today. It was part of a wider fight for the rights of workers that literally spanned a century and more, and many would say is still going on, with tiny incremental gains and advances here and there the way it got done.

That’s how it almost always happens. Change is almost always a series of small victories that take too long to win and can seem like not enough when we get them. But that’s how the struggle works. One step at a time.

If a person takes the position that if they can’t have everything they want, right now, that they’d rather take nothing than an incremental step, and perhaps even further suggest that this is the morally superior position to take, well, I question how much you actually believe in the cause you claim to advocate for. Yes, it would be marvelous to get everything we need in a bold stroke. Absolutely, you should dream about the goal you ultimately want to see achieved. That’s how you keep yourself going in the struggle.

But if you really believe in that goal, then you take every step, however small, in that direction as a victory. No, the job’s not done. But there’s a little bit less of it to do than there otherwise would have been, and that is good. If you believe in the goal for the goal’s sake, then you take every tiny creeping step towards it as a triumph. And the struggle continues.

Thanks for reading.

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Little Claw

When I was young(er?), I had pretty serious asthma, to the point that when I was (even) small(er), I nearly died a couple of times. It wasn’t that bad most of the time, but it was one of those things I always had to be thinking about when I was growing up.

One moment I particularly remember was telling my asthma doctor, a nice man named Dr. Singh, about what it felt like when my lungs were acting up. I said that it felt like a little claw grabbing on to the bottom of my lung. (Always the right one, for whatever reason) From his expression, that wasn’t something he was used to hearing from elementary school aged patients. But, that’s exactly what it felt like, some kind of long-clawed talon (always red in my mind, for some reason) snagged on some part of my interior.

Being the kid with the iffy lungs was not always a great role to have growing up, but by and large I was very fortunate. I got good medical care, and I had encouraging people around me who always told me to do as much as I could, but to know when enough was enough and respect my limits. (Which, honestly, is not a bad rule for a lot of things in life) With the exception of one spectacular example that left me with a substantial scar on the back of my head, I did pretty well at that. I did grow up (to a degree) and my lungs got stronger and stronger, to the point that I rarely think about my asthma, anymore.

Now here we are in these, uh, unusual circumstances, and my gym is closed, so to do my running I am obliged to do it outside, in considerably colder weather than I would usual run in. It’s been mostly fine. But a few days ago, I was doing some hill training, and it was, to say the least, brisk. Cold air has always been one of the triggers for the asthma, and to my surprise, right at the end of my training, the little claw was back.

Felt just the same as ever.

It wasn’t anything serious, and I still remember what to do, so a few minutes later, I was fine. Not something I had expected to ever experience again, though. I suppose the little claw will always be a part of me.

As I’ve had time to think about it, I’ve decided it doesn’t bother me all that much. That weakness will evidently always be a part of me, but it doesn’t define my life, and I’m sure that having grown up with asthma has shaped me in all sorts of ways I’m not aware of. Generally I think I turned out all right, so I wouldn’t change it. The little claw is as much a part of me as the toenail that grows all weird, and most of the time we have an understanding.

I think many of the unfortunate things that are in all of our histories are similar. In the end, just a part of who we have turned out to be, and that is all right.

So I am at least content to know that the little claw is still out there, where-ever it hangs out.

And I did finish that hill run.

Thanks for reading.

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Enormous Cave

Short one this week, I fear – my energy level is kind of in the sewer and my seasonal allergies are not treating me well, but I am really trying to get back on a regular schedule with the blog again.

And thus.

This week I ran across a story about this enormous cave in B.C. that had been sealed up for thousands of years by ice and has only recently opened up, probably due to climate change. I mean first of all, there’s a fantastic setup for a horror, SF, or fantasy story if I’ve ever heard one, right?

It’s also always kind of amazing to me that we are still discovering such truly huge things about the world we live on. (Yes, the reason why this particular one came to light is Not Great) In our age of GPS and satellite photos and Google Street View it is easy enough to think that the world is thoroughly known and understood, and that we have discovered nearly everything that is out there to find. Neil Gaiman has a good bit in one of his short stories (which I am far too lazy to chase down) about all the wonderful imaginary places that got chased off the map by people travelling around the globe and proving they weren’t there.

And yet. Here’s this frankly huge thing that – at least outside of First Nations culture* – we know very little about. And that’s pretty cool, that there are still huge and wonderful things out there to be found. It makes the world seem a little bit more magical, and I think in our current situation, it’s also good to have some reminders that as tough as the world kind of is right now, there’s still wonderful things out there in it, too.

I do like a good cave story.

Thanks for reading.

*-In my admittedly brief research for writing this, the best I could find was that it’s possible the site is known and had significance for First Nations people who live in the area, but nothing conclusive. I welcome more information, if you have it.

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Chain of Discovery

Reaching a bit for a non-current events related topic (because I really don’t want to do a stream of those) and this is what I’ve got.

I was thinking this afternoon about what to write on the blog and had some music on. As is frequently the case these days, it was a lady blues singer called Joanne Shaw Taylor. I’ve got a bunch of her stuff now and it’s currently my default ‘I should throw something on to listen to’ option.

Now, even just a few weeks ago, I would not have recognized the name*. What happened? Well, it’s a bit of a trip. I watched an episode of an old TV show I like a lot, Justified. More or less, as I recall, it was serving as the audio-visual equivalent of comfort food. Anyway, there’s a song that plays behind a particular scene that I’ve always liked a lot.

No, it’s not Joanne Shaw Taylor.

It is by Otis Taylor, but they’re not related**. I tracked down some of his stuff, and I like it a lot too. On some of the tracks, there’s a female backup singer whose voice really kind of grabbed me.

No, still not Joanne Shaw Taylor. It’s Otis Taylor’s daughter Cassie***. A little more progress down the rabbit hole and I discovered Cassie Taylor has some records of her own****. I listened to them, and I liked them too.

This got me to thinking that I was a little light on lady blues singers in my collection, and further research. And, thence, through various sources of varying levels of helpfulness, to Joanne Shaw Taylor. Who is, I should say, a highly acclaimed musician and so I claim no particular credit for this ‘discovery’, I just thought the route whereby I arrived to it was, once I thought about it, more than a little curious, and heavily reliant on pretty fragile connections.

I love those kind of seemingly random chains of discovery that can lead us to reading a million increasingly obscure webpages in an afternoon or stumbling on an artist I didn’t know about before. It also gets me to thinking about all the random blorps of chance that have to happen for an artist (even an acclaimed one) to come to the attention of someone new to their work. Sure, if your stuff is up on the internet, theoretically a huge number of people can get it, but because that’s true of so many artists, what are the odds that any one of them will ever even know it’s there?

I feel, therefore, profoundly lucky that anyone has ever found my work to give it a shot, and even more strongly that one of the best things you can ever do for an artist you admire is tell people about them. It doesn’t have to be pushy, or a hard sell. Just, to people who you think might genuinely dig it, a little mention.

It’s not necessarily the best relying on those chains of discovery to cascade down.

Thanks for reading, and I’ll see about having a less squirrely topic next week.

*-it turns out that I did, retroactively, recognize a couple of her songs as ones that used to play on a local radio station, back when it was still playing blues and not the infinitely more bland crap they switched over to. The name had never stuck in the spongy confines of my brain though, obviously.

**-The song is ‘Ten Million Slaves’.

***-In the song where I really noticed her bit for the first time, aside from liking the song, I was also struck by how different Otis’ voice sounded. Well of course he’s not singing that one, he’s just on the banjo. The singer, as I immediately kicked myself for not figuring out, is Keb Mo, another of my favourites. It’s a weird web out there.

****-Here I reveal, to some degree, exactly how old I am, because I’m not even sure the concept of an album is even a thing any more, much less calling it a record.

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Christmas (?) Cactus

First of all, I flat-out forgot that yesterday was ‘write a blog entry day’ until I was just about to go to bed, and with my usual struggles in getting my brain to turn off and let me sleep, I decided not to take any chances. Obviously things are a little weird right now, my schedule is all messed up, and hopefully we’re all making allowances for ourselves as a result. And I’m going to get back on the ‘Tuesdays’ schedule going forward, as best I can.

However, this is also kind of perfect based on what I wanted to write about on the blog this week.

My Christmas Cactus.

No, seriously.

See, I have had this plant for quite a long while now, and right up front I’ll admit that I’m quite sure it hasn’t been in ideal Christmas Cactus conditions (mostly due to me not really knowing what those are). Mostly it has been a nice little splash of green that survived the rather iffy lighting conditions of a series of apartments.

It hadn’t bloomed for the past two Christmases, and I pretty much figured it wasn’t going to, any more.

Then, a little while ago, I noticed it had buds.

It is, you will note, April.

My first instinctual reaction (and this is not to my credit) was ‘Man, this cactus is bad at it’s job. Doesn’t bloom for two years and then finally produces some in the springtime.’ I was going to make a Hilarious Internet Post about it.

But then I thought a little more, and you know, there’s a lot to be learned from this cactus. It is not, as I said, in ideal conditions. It’s not producing what is expected on the expected schedule, nor at the rate of other similar cactii.

But, by the gods, it has produced something, and (one has to assume) done the very best it was capable of. This is much like many of us, including myself. I don’t write as much as a lot of other people I know, I definitely don’t do so with any kind of predictable regularity these days, but I plug away. I like to hope eventually something will come of it.

And really, this is all any of us can do. We are all in our own situations, unique to ourselves, and if we do the best we can, then we have no reason to feel in any way ashamed of the results.

By all appearances, my cactus’ flowers are going to be lovely.

It’s great at its job.

Thank you for reading.


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On Piracy

All right, I lied.

The thing is that I did have something I sort of wanted to write about, but by the time it got to be time to write it yesterday, my energy level was in the sewer and I convinced myself it was a bad idea. I’m finding my energy levels to be incredibly volatile in the current situation (and this is not becoming a ‘pandemic’ entry, I swear) and that’s something I’m gonna have to adapt to.

However. Here’s what I wanted to write about.

Piracy, and not the ‘fun’* kind. There was a bit of a Fuss about book piracy last week and into this week, and I had some Thoughts, but was really going to let it go (because, basically, who the fuck am I) but then I saw a friend in the world of music with similar issues, and since this is clearly a thing, here we go, for what it’s worth.

This is especially fun because I get to argue with me from 30 years ago.

I didn’t have pirated books back then (it wasn’t really technologically practical) but I did have pirated videogames. Almost every game I had for my computer back then was copied. If you had asked me, I would have had my reasons. Video game publishers are big companies and won’t miss the money. I’m a broke kid who wouldn’t be buying a game in any event, so it’s not like they’re out money. They got money from a sale at some point, this is just basically lending the games around. And on like that.

My friends and I copied music for each other, too (those double-deck cassette players seemingly purpose built for the task) and again, the thinking was (if we bothered to think very much about it) that musicians were clearly rich as fuck, we were not, and so it was, in a way, only fair.

I know exactly when my thinking at least started to change. It was year 1 of my ill-fated foray into journalism school, and we had to write an article on an issue in society. I chose software piracy and did some interviewing; one of the people I talked to was a family friend who had some sort of job with IBM. (Look, again, 25 years ago) I raised a question: ‘What do you say to the argument that people copy software because it’s too expensive?’ His reply: ‘That if you can’t afford a BMW, it doesn’t mean you get to steal one.’

I wrote up my mediocre article and it got the grade it deserved (the idea of me as a journalist gets more hilarious the better you know me) but the point is, and I remember this quite distinctly – I never really came up with a counterargument to that point. I’m not going to claim some moral epiphany here, I still had pirated software for years afterwards, but I also know my certainly about the whole deal had been fractured.

Basically, since then, the more I’ve learned about every creative industry (creation of computer games included), the more I have learned that basically all of my assumptions about them were wrong. There are, of course, titanically wealthy authors and musicians who no, probably don’t feel it much if they lose a sale to piracy. But for every one of those, there’s at least dozens who are just scraping whatever income they have out of their art, either literally to get by, or to see if they can (in this strangely terrible world we have built for ourselves) afford to divert time from things they know will make money to their art.

Everything that gets torrented or downloaded kicks those decisions in a particular direction, and the net effect is going to be less people making art, and more people giving up on it as a thing they can do. It would indeed be lovely if our society was such that people who feel art in their soul could pursue it for nothing but the joy of it, but the world we have thus far chosen to build requires all of us to make money somehow. If there’s no money in art, for most creators, the decision will have to be to do something else.

So there will be that small number of people who make a living at it, the gate to getting into that group will be exceedingly narrow, and the array of voices we will have in whatever field of art we’re talking about will be less. And we will be worse off because of it.

It doesn’t take much thought to carry this a little further and realize that the people who will suffer most from this are those whose position in society is precarious to begin with, the marginalized and underprivileged. Those are the voices we need to amplify, not stifle by making pursuing their art something they literally cannot afford to do.

This is without getting into the wider issues here: similar to the artists themselves, there are of course tremendously wealthy and powerful publishers of art. But there are also lots where, even if we know the name really well, the margins are razor thin, and the decisions about how many things they can put out, or if they are even going to continue to make a go of it, are absolutely impacted by how much of their stuff gets stolen.

Even for those big publishers that, no, probably aren’t going to close the shutters because a thing was torrented, they are making decisions based on sales. So, do they give that particular author another deal (and thus, get more art in your hands), or do they not? If the sales aren’t there, they won’t, and so your artistic world just got a little smaller.

For every piece of art we consume, there’s also a bunch of work we often don’t think of attached to it, as well. For a book, there’s editors, layout people, cover designers, agents; a whole pretty-darned-rickety industry that gets that story in your hand. Even if the artist themselves, or the publisher, is crazy rich? Gonna bet that most of those other people attached to the project are not. All of them are ultimately depending on someone paying for the book to get paid themselves. The whole thing gets closer to collapse the more of us decide we’re not paying.

Basically what this all comes down to is recognizing that we do, as a society, value art. Almost everyone I have ever known likes some type of it – there’s either music they like to listen to, stories they like to read, images they like on their wall, games they like to play. We surround ourselves with art nearly constantly.

The bizarre thing is that for a society of art-lovers, we seem strangely reluctant to pay for it. Can’t we just enjoy it? And again, it would be lovely if that was the case. But, every piece of art we enjoy exists because of someone’s labour, and it almost always comes to us because of many people’s labour. To say ‘nah, I’m not gonna pay for it’ or ‘you should give it to me for nothing’ is to say that you think the worth of that labour is zero, and that’s a terrible judgment to make.** It’s especially indefensible if you claim to be on the side of workers, and ordinary people.

If it’s really what you think, though, at least have the decency to not call a thing literally worthless and then also insist on taking it at the same time.

We all love art. Love the people who bring it to you as well, and please don’t steal it or help facilitate it being stolen. Our world needs art very badly, and we’ll have less of it if we starve our artists.

Take that, me from 30 years ago.

Thanks for reading.

* – Real piracy was not, in fact, fun or charming and the transformation of brutal vicious killers into whimisical jolly good fellows is an interesting phenomenon that we are absolutely not getting into.

** – there is an (I hope) obvious exception here for providing access to art to underprivileged people who would never be able to experience any of it otherwise, which is another objectively good thing to do. However, these should always be things that the artists consent to being a part of. And no, ‘you can tell us and we’ll stop’ is not anywhere near the same as getting permission before you begin.

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Skip One

No blog entry this week – I really don’t want to write another ‘pandemic’ themed one and here we are at the appointed hour and I don’t have another idea.

So be it.

Take care of yourselves out there.


Down the Line

I’m gonna try not to do too many of these, but this is gonna be another coronavirus-adjacent blog today. I don’t think we should reduce our entire existence to this very strange thing we’re all in the middle of, so I’m going to make a special point of writing about some other things in the weeks ahead, but this week there is one more thing I want to look at real quick.

Since my last entry, the restrictions put in place by the government have gotten more stringent, at least here in Canada. The limits on us have gotten more extensive. I have seen several people who I think of as intelligent and wise wondering if what we’re doing is even working.

And, of course, the uncomfortable answer is that we can’t tell yet. We’re still probably a couple weeks from seeing if all of this effort has made enough of a difference. Especially when we’re stressed out and worried, that’s not easy to swallow. Heck, I’m not great at ‘wait and see’ and the best of times.

But right now, that’s what the world demands of us. We’ve got to do the right things, and trust that we will see the results we want a little bit down the road.

It occurs to me that that is kind of true about a lot of things, even in ordinary life. My fitness routine is certainly like that – I do the work in the gym and out on the road and trust that I’ll get the results I want down the line. Usually, that’s a wait of at least a few weeks before I can see that it’s made a difference.

I think it’s like that with writing, as well. I work hard at creating new stories, improving my craft, and making contacts in the trade, and although the results thus far have been relatively small scale, I try to trust as much as I can that I’ll see the results of it all in the end. I have taken the best advice I can from people who know what they’re talking about, I do the best with it I can, and … I shall wait and see how it works out. Hopefully it will look somewhat like what I’m hoping for, down the line some.

It’s not an easy thing to do, while it is easy to lose patience.

But a lot of the time, all we can do is the best we can right now, and wait to see the results shake out after some time passes.

That’s it for this week.

Thanks for reading.

All shall be well.

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