Max

Long Time Gone

/ Nancy Palmer / Leave a comment

I’ve been Away for a while, but I’m back. Some things are the same. Some things have changed. The dog’s absence is very loud. The cats’ presence is sometimes audible, but more often manifests in a subtle shift of energies.

I’m writing. I remind myself it’s not my job to decide if it’s good or not. My task is to create. Others can judge. Or not. I have written a story recently that’s from my deepest self, but it may not be my story to tell. Self-reflection can be such a trap.

Friends have been dying. Objectively I know this is going to be happening more often; subjectively it feels like I should be able to concentrate *REALLY HARD* and *poof* it’ll be 1986 again, or still, and I’ll walk from the library to a particular tree and they’ll all be standing there; if I just focus, my body will be moving with those fluid easy steps and those songs will be on the radio, and the laughter will lift us and potential will swirl around us and how can it possibly be 40 years have passed?

I wouldn’t wish to undo the years. Too many much-loved people have been born, and I’d never wish them away. I am yearning for that kind of immediacy, though, the vividness of my life experience in those days. What is this feeling, that if I just reach hard enough, though, my friends are all still here, and there’s just something lacking in me that keeps me from really *getting* their presence?

I am sober, I promise.

Days, energy, people, though. They all feel like they’re just out of my sight/sound/touch.

It’s so frustrating, and it’s painful. I have an impulse to tear all the books from the shelves, hurl things around, scream at the top of my lungs. It won’t help, logic says. But my body feels my conflict. My jaw aches where I’ve been clenching it unknowingly. There’s that pulse twitching my eye again. I’m giving myself five minutes to sit in grief. Then I must, I *must* focus on now, who is still here, what is still possible. I must not miss today from longing for a different day. Past or future.

Five minutes of grief. Starting now.

Self-Medicating with Games and Dog

/ Nancy Palmer / Leave a comment
Honestly, he’s likely better at platformers than Yours Truly.

Complex feelings this hectic month. I’ve been pushing to the very edge of my physical and emotional limits, and sometimes beyond. So I’ve been overtired. When I am overtired, my usual coping mechanisms aren’t enough to keep me functional, and so I resort to the opiate of the nerdy masses: video games.

Why, yes, I AM playing Dragonquest Builders 2 on the Switch, why do you ask?

Tea and a Tale on a Tuesday

/ Nancy Palmer / 1 Comment

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Max is skeptical of my experiments with water-soluble crayons over Pentel Pocket Brush pen in my sketchbook. But sometimes you just gotta scribble.

Maybe this will have to become a thing. Sometimes I’m so project-driven (today it’s a cosplay thing, and then working on the sequel to Albatross) that I don’t give myself time to sit down and just lose myself in a good book. Committing to posting something I’m reading on a Tuesday could be just the nudge I need to make sure I’m not neglecting this bit of self-care. Committing to a related sketch makes sure I’m playing in my sketchbook, too.

I attended a seminar last night on publishing for LGBTQ+ and allies. It was informative and I met some cool writers and their friends. It’s revitalizing to have “authorial energy” being shared in person. Online connections are important and so special, but I really miss that in-person connection. Note to self: look for a writing group locally. It was also a refreshing break from some of the bigotry and hate I’ve been seeing online: folks working together, sharing their craft, without judging. Diversity and inclusiveness in action.

Today’s reading: I recently finished cult favorite Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner. Not your typical fantasy novel … definitely more swords than sorcery. Flavors of Dumas for a modern sensibility. Kushner joined with partner Delia Sherman to return to the world of Riverside with  The Fall of the Kings . I’m not too far into the novel, but it seems there is at least a discussion of magic. Most of the characters don’t believe it’s real (yet), but I-the-reader withold judgement. As with the earlier novels in the series, there’s elevated language, a complex plot that one suspects is about to become more complicated, and intriguing characters in a well-painted habitat. I will probably stay up long after my tea is gone tonight, caught in this world, happy for the chance to revisit some of the characters I so enjoyed in the previous books. And Kushner’s matter-of-fact inclusiveness is a pure delight in the previous books, so I’m hoping to find more of that in this collaborative work.

Need more Riverside? Kushner is spearheading a new set of serial stories also set in Riverside’s world, a prequel to Swordspoint. Does the name “Tremontaine” mean anything to you? If not, go read Swordspoint. Otherwise, you can find out more at Ellen Kushner’s website.

I hope your Tuesday finds you with a warm mug and a good book.