2018: Ash, Cinders, Flame.

Got a new face and it feels all right / Power and strength and appetite / I eat your loathing, hate and fear / Should probably stay away from here

I usually write a recap earlier in December but I was busy writing more important things, so this post comes a little late in the game. 2018 was…yeah, that was a year, wasn’t it? Or maybe it was ten years. Certainly feels like it lasted ten years.

I wrote a lot last year, folks. Finished Devil’s Creek, wrote a novelette, several short stories, a non-fiction piece. As I posted on FB last week:

2018 in numbers (approx.):

  • Fiction:Devil’s Creek (Parts 4&5): 76k
    The Smile Factory: 9k
    The Black-Eyed Boy: 2k
    So Delicious the Dreams of Man: 4.5k
    Tommy the Destructo-Bot: 7k
    Happy Pills: 4.5k
    We’ve All Gone to the Magic Show: 6k
  • Non-Fiction:
    They Grow in the Shadows: 4k
  • Submissions: 12
    Acceptances: 3
    Rejections: 7
    Pending: 2
  • Art:
    Commissions: 2
    Book Covers: 5
    Book Interiors: 2

Like I said, I wrote a lot, and some of it’s carrying over into 2019. I started working on something new, probably another novelette, that I intend to submit to Nightscape’s Charitable Chapbooks line. And I’ve got several solicitations to consider. On top of that, Italia will be shopping Devil’s Creek to publishers, and I suspect I’ll begin work on my next book at some point this year. I’ve also got something else to unveil in the coming months, but I’m waiting on some other pieces to fall into place first.

So. 2018 was busy. But as I also wrote on FB last week:

Also in 2018: chronic anxiety and depression, a twisted ankle, a bruised coccyx, gout flares, tendinitis, short term disability, and three funerals.

I’m not posting this to say “Yay me!” I’m posting it to say that if I can do it, so can you.

So I want you to get up, go to your window, and scream into the void, “I’m going to do this and you can’t fucking stop me.”

Because no one is going to do it for you.

And that’s really the long and short of it, friends. 2018 kicked my ass to the curb, but I kept crawling back for more because I’m a tenacious son of a bitch and a glutton for punishment. Maybe it’s the writer in me. Or the Keisling stubbornness. Maybe it’s a bit of both. Either way, I went to the brink last year. I looked down and took some time to think about things. It was terrifying and rejuvenating. I lost people last year. I lost myself. And somehow I found my way back in time to pick up where I’d left off.

Now it’s 2o19 and I’m ready to do it all again, a little wiser, a little older, with scars and sores and blood on my knuckles.

Last night I proclaimed my slogan for the year is “Write or Die.”

Time to put that into practice.


Hey look what’s staring back at you / Caught reflecting in your eyes / I’m becoming something new / It’s getting hard to recognize

2 thoughts on “2018: Ash, Cinders, Flame.

  1. A long time ago I determined the best revenge against the forces of evil trying to take me out was to never give up. Actually, I think it is embedded in my DNA… no matter what, even if I say I’m going to give up, I don’t. So I’m with you on crawling back and keeping on. That is a MAJOR accomplishment. So proud of you.

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