A lightning bolt of pure thought courses earthwards in the night. Brilliant umbra of brief jagged vasculature rends the black vault of firmament. Termination across neurons, a light burning so as to accelerate from hum to rattling unbroken shriek. Certainty alike to that of knowing the day he would propose to his wife, synapses ablaze, a furious illumination, refulgence as unto a saint in illuminated manuscript.
I am referring of course to the decision to finally begin a newsletter. I lack the free time to maintain the upkeep of a patreon, and I’m not particularly interested in the idea of hiding media behind a paywall any higher or more impassable than the cover price of my books. I do want a place to communicate outside of Meta’s algorithmically driven products and services, and as anyone who has met me in real life can attest, I do tend to go on.
My favorite youtuber, whose patreon I have gratefully supported for years, is Noah Caldwell Gervais. He’s a magnificent writer and speaker, and his voice on hourslong videos about his travels on the Lincoln Highway and granular exploration of video game franchises have kept me company while inking nearly every book I’ve ever made. I bring him up not solely to plug him, but to say I am following his example. Subscribers don’t get anything that casual viewers do not. If you like what I do and you have the financial means to help me keep doing it, that option is here. If not, you can read this anyway. Simple as that.
Onto the newsletter portion of this newsletter. What’s been happening? I’m currently taking a week off of work because an injury I incurred in November has gotten no better after two months of working nonstop on my feet. Not working at the bar has made me happier and more mentally clear than I can remember feeling since maybe Hocking Hills. (More on that… eventually.) I am still teaching and working at the hospital, as those jobs don’t often require me to twist sharply at the waist while making flaming cocktails or carry heavy crates of liquor up industrial metal stairs.
What is the status of Upstate? Well, I put out the best book in the series last May and haven’t put one out since. I put out a story in Fantology which was a lot of fun, did a story about an octopus in an anthology nobody read, and put out my first autobio work in over a decade with Paterson Hodgson, a good friend who collaborated with me on a very fun project. But no Upstate.
Basically, I have three different books that are written and thumbnailed, and two of them are edited. I missed the last two months of work on my book because frankly I need to make money, and tending bar during the holidays is how I do that.
I feel like I need to justify myself, hence sharing my 82 and 74 hour work week clock out slips. I am typically not someone who struggles with motivation or time management in the production of my work, but I certainly do struggle with burnout. I regret not being able to make the time in the last two months. I recognize that I’m hardly the only artist who has to take breaks from the grind to make some money. Parallel to that uncomplicated understanding, naturally, is the feeling that I am a fraud who cannot hack it as an artist financially and thus falls behind those who might be his peers if he could work at their unbroken pace. I had a goal of Upstate being quarterly last year, and failed spectacularly. This is what you come to people’s newsletters for, right?
What IS happening with Upstate is pretty exciting, at least for me. I have, in total, a Luke book (which needs some work), a Ryan book (which deserves another pass) and the one I’m most excited about, a book following Ryan Essen’s great grandfather Reinhardt from the battle of the Somme to a miserable nursing home called Barnwell in Valatie New York, told through the time-fragmenting and identity-erasing lens of Alzheimer’s. I work slower than many of my peers because I have multiple jobs and I also tend to get wound round the axle of making something dense and thematically cohesive. One of many reasons I loved working with Paterson in her naturally more improvisational and free work flow.
Included below are some thumbnails, draw on 3x5 index cards and in the pages of a sketchbook and clearly never meant to be see at this size. This is what I’m sharing.
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This is long, this is wordy, this is over. Hopefully much more to come, unless I don’t get the parasocial cavity in my soul filled with approval and engagement. Thanks for coming. I hope you’ve enjoyed.