2017 has sucked.

It could have been way worse, of course. I haven’t contracted a major disease. I have a place to live. I have a job. In comparison to some other years in the ’10s’, it’s been good in a lot of ways.

In the way you probably care about, in relation to my writing and publishing, it’s sucked. Getting Her Substitute out there didn’t really count; that was a holdover from 2016, where I spent way too long pissing about to get the book out that year. I felt happy to get it published of course, and I appreciate every single one of you who bought a copy.

Beyond that, it wasn’t good. Or pretty.

I’m not asking for sympathy here. I’m trying to tell you how I’m… feeling is maybe the wrong way to put it. I’m trying to tell you where I stand as we head into 2018.

I hit a real middle-aged milestone this year. I’ve been writing mask fiction for almost 20 years – almost half my life. While I’ve been writing this, I haven’t been writing much else. I need to change that balance, but that doesn’t mean I need to stop writing mask fiction. Instead I need to treat this more seriously, along with my other writing, which I’ve neglected for way too long. I thought putting up a site, getting stuff published and selling a few books would be serious, but it hasn’t been. Not really. I need to start writing more and writing faster. I need to be more responsive to what works and what doesn’t.

I’ve no idea if it’ll happen or not. But I didn’t want to end this sucky year without at least coming out and saying something publicly. So, here I am.

See you on the other side of the New Year.