Update about art/writing stuff... sorry if I sound a little hoarse, it's allergy season. Here's the transcript:

Hi, y’all. Something different this week, but important, because I feel I owe my patrons and long-time supporters some insight into the inside of this artist’s head. It’s been about two months since I committed to reforming my career, and about one since I embarked on the primary vehicle for that reform (the audio rambles here on Locals), and I’ve produced three of those and written scripts for another two, so I feel like I’m slowly finding my way into a groove.

Is it helping? That part, I don’t know.

There’s a lot of stuff that appalls me right now. The news is full of symptoms of a disease I feel people are missing because they’re too busy debating the details, and how the details (alone and taken out of context) aren’t as alarming as alarmists are making them look. Maybe it’s because I have relatives who were victims of a real revolution, and who are connected with a community that’s seen several more such revolutions… but I keep seeing past the surface into the driving forces and they are malevolent and familiar.

When people who have witnessed true and terrible revolutions tell you: ‘we have seen this before’… it’s a good idea to listen.

So my headspace isn’t any less apocalyptic than it was months ago when I started tracking deplatformings in my private database. And I don’t feel creative, or hopeful, because I don’t see that what I’ve made has created a world that will accept me, when a lot of what I write is an attempt to demonstrate that hope and love are possible, important. When I say that people inevitably tell me it’s hubris to believe you can change the world, but I don’t want to change the entire world. I want to change my, local world, the communities I interact with, the industry I was a part of. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to want, and to believe that, you can make a difference in the places you inhabit.

But that didn’t happen. Even when I pointed out, over and over, that what was happening was bad. Having that flung back in my face for decades, and then topped off with having the same poisons invade society at large, has not made me feel like my art is worthwhile. And to be honest, there’s a lot of anger and resentment that I don’t know how to deal with simmering around that… because it’s hard not to think ‘why did you allow this to happen? Why do you consume my art, but not protect the artist?’

I am not saying, to be clear, that these feelings are fair. The only reason I bring any of this up is because it’s part of the mess keeping me from working. I know it’s my problem to resolve, and I don’t know how to work on it but I’m guessing time? Maybe time will help? Hopefully?

On a personal level, I have never quite faced a challenge like this, and there have been some super dark parts of my life.

Having said that, something is slowly hauling itself out of the muck and that’s my sense of duty. I can’t abandon my work on a practical/moral level because dropping all responsibility for our family’s income on my husband’s shoulders is wrong. And I can’t abandon my work on a spiritual/moral level because if you believe, as I do, that we were all sent to Earth with divine gifts, and are charged with using those gifts to help our fellow humans on their journey, then those gifts are not yours to withhold. God is patient, and I’m sure He’s willing to wait out any distress that might be holding me back… but at the same time, I shouldn’t use that patience as an excuse to evade my duties.

I have duties. I believe in them. And duty saves you, sometimes, when you run out of everything else that keeps you going. So, even though I feel dead inside, I am making myself work, no matter how rote or mechanical the process. I’m sure everything I’m producing is garbage. But I’m producing it anyway, because I don’t trust my perception of anything at this point, and it’s entirely possible that it only looks like garbage to me and other people will think it’s fine. Besides, if it really is garbage it can be recycled.

Since I have no interest or inspiration for anything, I have returned to my schedule until I discover a desire to do anything else. At the beginning of February I hammered out an outline for the last Fallowtide book I need to finish before I can move on to Surela’s trilogy, which was what was on my list. It’s the most complete outline for anything I’ve ever written, because I know I can’t rely on excitement to keep me going… and without that, the best way to prevent myself from coasting to a halt is to always know what I’m supposed to write next. Using that outline, I’ve managed to get 17% of the estimated total done. It’s going to be a big book, but if I keep trudging at this pace I should have it done before summer.

After that, I will probably begin my trudge through the remainder of Zafiil, unless something else comes up.

The most likely thing that might is Kherishdar—that will fail to surprise those of you regulars, because Kherishdar is where I put a lot of my grief. I have an outline for Kherishdar 5 now, and I’m sitting on it because it is so sad that I can’t really see past the sadness to be sure it’s a good story. (I should probably get someone to listen to a synopsis and tell me if it sounds compelling or if I’m just using it as self-inflicted therapy.)

Historically speaking, the last Kherishdar novel was also inspired by my grief at exactly the same thing I’m witnessing now: the breakdown of civility in society, and yes, it was four years ago during the last election cycle that it started pushing at me. So it’s very likely there will be another Kherishdar novel, it’s just a matter of when I feel I can start it. That’s why I have pulled out the old language notebooks and am trying, slowly, to remember that headspace.

Art-wise… I don’t know. I have managed a few sketches since November, but the stop-up is real. But I am letting that be for a while, particularly since I am once again moving studios, a process I’m not sure will be done before May or June. That’s probably around when livestreaming will become possible again. If by then I’m not feeling the art… that’s when I’ll decide it’s a problem.

My plans for this year make it clear that I’m going to have to tighten my belt, because unless something weird happens I’m well on my way to cratering my income. (The switch from Patreon has been bad for that, as I expected, and royalties are down noticably.) But every freelancing career has up years and down years, and you just have to power through the down years.

That’s where I am, then. You don’t want to see the inside of my head, and I’m not entirely sure anything I’m writing isn’t a hot mess that will fail to resonate with people because it’s obvious my heart is out to lunch. But I am trying to work through it anyway, Because Duty.

Hopefully in another few months, things will be… different. I won’t say better because who knows. But different. And thank you all, for sticking with me through it. Several of you have sent me personal notes that have been incredibly supportive, and I haven’t answered them yet but they made and make a difference. I appreciate all of you, your thoughtful discussions, and your commitment to civility and true diversity, always. Y'all are awesome.

Jaguar out.