Five years ago, I completed a Bachelor of Arts degree in English Literature at York University. At the time, it was my biggest accomplishment. I thought to myself, “Finally! After 13 sporadic years in university, I have this blasted 4-year degree! Take that, depression!” In celebration, I bought a hammer and some nails to hang my greatest accomplishment. Heh, a guy in line at Home Hardware asked, “Working on a big project, huh?” He had no idea how big it was to me.
Next step: a teaching degree, which meant moving to Presque Isle, Maine. I knew there was still much hard work ahead of me, but I thought the worst was over. I thought I finally had a handle on my depression. I thought I had some good coping strategies. I thought I learned good academic habits that helped me earn high marks.
I thought, “Finally, I’m closer than ever to finding my way in life, to finding that place where I belong, to feeling like I have some stability in my life.”
I was wrong on all accounts. In fact, I was closer to hitting the proverbial wall that broke me.
(Note: A word of warning. This one got very long and very personal. It’s nearly 2,500 words. So if you plan on reading it, get comfortable.)
The other day, I saw a poster for a small, local stage production called Redfish: A Comedy About Depression. When I looked it up online, I discovered the titular “Redfish” is a superhero. A play combining depression and superheroes? It’s like this was made for me. Luckily, I saw the play’s final showing this morning. I enjoyed it so much that I felt I needed to write a review about it and shout praises to all involved. And add a few minor criticisms which – like I would – I’m sure they’ll take way too much to heart than I intend.
Like my love for superheroes, I’m open about my struggles with depression. Only a few days ago, I broke out of a near month-long bout of depression where I stayed at home, shuffling between playing video games (The Witcher 3: Blood & Wine, and Stardew Valley) or sleeping.
There are things about my life these days that I plan on making separate posts about. One has a working title of “The Wall.” I also plan on posting about my short story The Never Ending Battle getting republished recently, but I’ll wait until I have a copy of the magazine. Stay tuned for that, though, because I’ve actually reworked the decade-old story, so it’ll be reworked AND re-posted!
Credit: @andyhurleys on Twitter
As of this writing, it seems the massive fire in Fort McMurray is dying down. 80,000 people in the area were evacuated while the town was decimated. It’s fortunate – and a little amazing – that no lives were lost in the fire.I can’t imagine the work to come, but I hope for nothing but the best for everyone involved.
In the meantime, the Toronto Star published this political cartoon by Theo Moudakis:
On the surface, it’s a nice sentiment, but it’s problematic. Let me explain.
From Punisher #8. Art by Leandro Fernandaz
Ever since his debut in the second season of Netflix’ Daredevil, I’ve been thinking a lot about Frank Castle; a.k.a.: The Punisher. So much, in fact, that I broke down and bought the first complete collection volume of Garth Ennis’ second run on the title, under Marvel’s Max imprint (Amazon link here).
It all got me thinking more about the character; at least enough to fill a short blog entry, anyway. So here goes.
In an effort to get out of the house more while being unemployed, I’ve been hitting up the library for comics. I’ve enjoyed several books and series I haven’t been able to check out before. Some, I’d never even heard of before now.
Posted in Comic Books, Reviews
Tagged archie, comic books, comics, dc comics, ed brubaker, fatale, gail simone, greg rucka, image comics, joshua williamson, judd winick, mark millar, mark waid, marvel comics, predator, punisher, robert kirkman, sean phillips, superior
Man, I hope I didn’t look this nerdy when I started writing.
After Grade 2, I became a writer. My stories about Gizmo from Gremlins were all written in crayon. As I grew up, my skills as a writer improved. Crayons became pencil crayons, then pencil, then pen, then eventually, a keyboard. My stories changed from Gizmo adventures to horror stories to super heroics.
My journey to becoming a writer took time. I’ve certainly evolved from my days of Gizmo stories. I wish I had kept those old scribblers as wonderful mementos. I especially wish I’d kept my coil scribblers with all my short horror stories.
To be a writer, it’s very simple: you write. If you can write or type out your thoughts, you are a writer. After all, writers write. Even if you never get published, know that you are a writer simply because you write.
But maybe you want to hone your skills. Maybe you dream of seeing your name on a book cover, sitting on a bookstore’s shelf. Maybe you’re young and want some tips on how to progress as a writer. Maybe you’re much older and want to tell that story you’re sure people will read. Maybe you’re a parent with a child who enjoys telling stories.
Well, I can’t guarantee these tips are for everyone. It’s advice I’ve heard or learned over the past three decades. Regardless, I hope it inspires you in some way.