Hello and welcome to the FWACATA blog, broadcast from Miami Florida. It’s started to rain which I only know in passing when I leave for A bit in the afternoon to drop off mail. It’s steamy and sticky, so it’s beginning to feel like summer. In other words, fuck this.
Work was interrupted this week to what seems to be either some type of pancreatic attack or food poisoning or both, as I have no insurance to know what the what of what is going on. My body made noises, and sudden pain, I went cold and then my heart was racing. It was… Uncomfortable. I thought for a second that “Heart Attack” which at 45 years old isn’t unheard of, but I figured if it was I would curl in a ball asking God for help. No, I was just really agitated. My girlfriend asked if it was a panic attack. I looked at her for a bit and said “I Don’t think so” in a way that was not reliant. Either way, I marshaled through. I know if you are reading you are palpably rolling your eyes and thinking “GO TO THE DOCTOR” but I also fucking hate the Doctor. Not out of fear but out of pure spite, because most of the time, they have to waste a shit ton of your time to get something looked at, and then it costs you money. So the plan is if this continues, I will go to the hospital and have it checked but it’s been calming down, so maybe it was just spasm of some sort. My guts have has been weird for years, but I am better.
I also hate to add to my ignorance in front of you but all this shit started when I stopped smoking. I know that sounds like a douche thing to say but I swear I was fine other than some aches and such from smoking, I was just not getting any relief from it like I used to. I still smoke an occasional cigarette. I also at the same time stopped drinking, which wasn’t too bad, but when I tied one, by the GODS I tied one on! Now my inside hurt. WTF? I thought getting healthy was supposed to do a thing?!?!
I always think that it’s weird there are any fat ugly billionaires. I mean you have the means and time why wouldn’t you turn yourself into a fucking Machine? I would put a million bucks toward turning into some sort of monster adonis, and not plastic surgery bullshit, but into a fucking predator of the heist order; get in shape, take some experimental HGH, get all new parts, trainer, physician, chef combo and become more like a Bilzerian than a Bill Gates. They should all be running around annoying the fuck out of us, super-built monsters, talking loud, and taking our women. Fuck, instead they all look like Dad bod central.
But I’m not a billionaire, so then I need to do what I got to do, to keep doing it, which means…
Was writing a lot this week, but decided to lay off that and get back to making the Kickstarter. I might be a little light on content in these coming weeks working our way up to the Kickstarter, which I will promptly be telling you the date soon and even show a sneak peek when its more put together, but for sure I need to get my deadlines straight and books out. So this is the raising of the banners, time to move on this shit. Time to push, even if my guts are leaking. Here’s some stuff:
VIGIL is still ongoing and wonder when people will dig to see past works of these characters popping up in the current FWACATA anthology, and that there is a bit of back story universe? Hmmm
The week was a little light in commissions but did have some freelance come through and pick up the slack. Here are high lights:
Will be going a bit on the Weekend, once I finished my main chores. But until then catch me every weekday, on WHATNOT at 12pm to 2 pm Eastern time!
Skipped this week due to being fucked up. Sorry. I will try to make it up with double episodes this next week, just to not fuck up the count. I did do Monday Motivation, but late:
Been writing like crazy as I said, but everything from screenplays to poetry to haiku to comic strips. It’s just about sitting or for me, lying down and thinking, seeing the scenes play out, the words come in, and working them out and putting them down. It’s being the Miner and Blacksmith, pulling the ore out of the earth and smelting it into bars to build something. A true Artificer. Understanding that is the key. Most of the time I really need to just go back and edit the fuck out of stuff. I have it all there, I just need to slice and splice. Give yourself time to be in the quiet of your own mind to hear the tune your soul is humming.