Where I've Been For the Last 3 Years - Part 1

I'd had my fill of my day job. Office politics, rude people, and a lousy, long commute eating up 2 hours of my day had left me exhausted. My creativity was sapped. A terrible, on again, off again relationship was only adding to the problem.

I was just about to quit when Covid hit. Suddenly, I was working from home and my job was tolerable again. I had more time. I could do laundry or dishes on my lunch break instead of rushing to do a million things after work, then trying (and usually failing) to get into a creative headspace. I couldn't really go anywhere. I had groceries delivered. This was how life was for a while. You probably know all about it.

I was hot on the heels of the renewed success of Black of Heart with Source Point Publishing, and I had high hopes that things would continue on that upswing. I worked hard to complete three additional series that year. (Not issues - SERIES) I looked for artists, found artists, tested artists, and was getting really excited for what I felt were not only three very different types of stories, but stories with some big personal lessons in them. Stories about growth, equality, empowerment and finding yourself - mirrors to the journey I was on. Not only did it feel like a natural progression for me creatively, but it felt like I was stepping into a powerful space.

You probably know where this is going. Despite my prolific year of writing, almost every project I started to put together had fallen apart. There were a series of failures in terms of working with my publisher, not being able to find artists, and artists committing to projects only to drop out months later, leaving me with time and money wasted, and nothing to show for my investment. Sadly, this wasn't anything new, but they all came at a fast clip, like a line of dominoes falling one after the other, leaving me with a sense that it was time to move on from comics to a medium where I only had to rely on myself.

That's not to say I didn't love my time working in comics. I did. I made some lasting friendships in that space. But it can be a heartbreaking endeavor. And with that came the honest admission that all I want to do with the time I have left here is tell stories, and I don't need an artist for that.

So, I sold my oversized house, downsized everything I owned, and moved into an apartment in downtown Cincinnati. I'd always wanted to live downtown - not really longterm, but as an experience - and it didn't disappoint. I walked to concerts and baseball games, ate amazing food, and partied and wrote on the rooftop of my building with an amazing view of the city. It gave me another piece of the puzzle I needed to keep writing - particularly the gritty noir fiction I love - and the motivation to try something new.

As the days of Covid dwindled, there was a call to return to working from the office. Yuck. This was the reality I was hoping to continue to avoid. I started having panic attacks. I spoke to my boss and told him I had to quit and he said, "Just take some time off and see how you feel when you come back." So, I did that. Three months off unpaid - writing full time, exploring the city, and two weeks roaming the countryside and coasts of Portugal. I had convinced myself at that point that I wanted to move there and I should go find the best place to land. (I did btw, but that's a story for another time.)

When I dragged my ass back to work, I was not welcomed with open arms, as my boss had led me to believe. Instead, I'd been thrown under the bus by my coworkers. I knew then what needed to happen. For six months, I bided my time, swallowed my pride, and did what I had to do to get my bonus check.

I wrote my first poetry book, "A Lit Wick", during that time. It was something I'd always dreamed of doing, and since I had no real expectations, there was no pressure. I released it in February 2022, just after my birthday - a little present to myself.

It was around this time another (larger) comic book publisher came around. I pitched them what I (still) feel is a great series, (and one day to be the first in a series of novels), and life seemed to be looking up. My year downtown was coming to a close. I found a new place to live on the other side of the country - a working cattle ranch nestled in the high desert mountains, in the middle of nowhere. A treat to myself to go and write and forget about the world for a while.

But the bonus check was delayed and my time to move was rapidly approaching. I was starting to panic again. I would have given them three months' notice if I had thought they wouldn't have snaked that check out from under me, but the circumstances of my job had left me with zero trust in my employer. And so, instead of three months' notice or three weeks' notice, they got three days' notice, and a lot of people were NOT happy with me.

But I was. I was very happy with me.

I cashed that bonus check, loaded everything I owned into a huge truck and drove it across the country to start a new chapter. It was time to take a chance on myself and see where it led.

I can't spoil too much of this because it is a part of the new book I'm working on, but I'll just say that TROUBLE started immediately in the form of a blizzard.

PART 2 - COMING SOON!