I’m sitting in a coffee shop, butt in chair, hands on keyboard. I have Richard and Ana sitting near me, and we are talking sometimes, working on our different projects other times.

Until this moment, I don’t think I realized how long it has been since we’ve done this.

A few weeks ago, my coworker Bryan invited me out to have a beer with him after work, and it felt amazing. It was absolutely a normal thing to do, and it’s the normalcy that delighted me. There’s something of that same flavor happening right now.

I think some part of me gave up on feeling normal again. I spend most of my time at home, and I keep a mask in the car, and I look at the world and worry about how many people are dying, and how so many people don’t seem to care. It’s frustrating. It’s soul crushing.

So, these moments of normalcy feel like revelations. I get why people are trying not to think about Covid anymore. It’s a huge bummer. It has robbed us of so many of these precious normal moments where we can just hang out with friends and enjoy each other.

I still think that we need to remain vigilant. I’m certain we can strike a balance between taking necessary precautions and holding onto these moments that make life feel good.

It does feel good to be writing in a coffee shop on a Sunday morning again. I wish Michael was here, but I think he’s busy this weekend. I’m using his keyboard, continuing to test it before I hand it off to him. It’s working very, very well.

I know what it takes for us to get to the point of “getting back to normal.” It means getting everyone vaccinated. It means normalizing staying home when sick, and not forcing kids or workers to be around other people when they could spread a deadly disease. It means becoming more sensitive to the idea that 300 or more people are dying every day to this pandemic that didn’t actually go away. It means not standing in front of the nation and saying stupid things like “the pandemic is over.” It means keeping the masks around, for the times when we have another wave.

Masks work. We have lots of data that supports this. We have data just from the Writing Excuses Retreat. The infections in our group were exponential until we enacted the mask policy, and then the number of new infections dropped dramatically. We have the data. Masks work.

I think I got off on a little bit of a tangent there, but it’s all related. I’m at CoffeeWorks, writing again. With friends. It is good.

When I’m done with this blog post, I’m going to do some more prep work for the Cyberpunk story. November is approaching faster than I like, and as Illidan might say, I am not prepared.

If you are preparing for NaNoWriMo, I hope your preparations are coming along nicely. If you’re participating in Inktober this month, I hope your drawings are delighting you. And if you’re just trying to enjoy some normalcy while the world continues to burn around us, I hope the time is as sweet and delightful as my time writing in CoffeeWorks.

I’m sure I’ve talked about mechanical keyboards here before, but I want to talk about them again today, because I’m working on some new ones (and an old one).

For starters, I’m writing today’s post on a keyboard I made for Michael Gallowglas. It’s the second one I made based on the Sick68 design I found on Thingiverse. As a sophomore project, it boasts some improvements on the original, while also carrying brand new problems I’ve never had to deal with. Double striking, inconsistencies with performance… my soldering improved so much by the time I got to this keyboard that I made connections with less solder. Which also meant that they were weaker, and that with rigorous use, the keyboard came apart in subtle ways.

Michael returned it to me, and I’ve been tinkering on it from time to time for a little while. Several weeks ago, when I finally worked up the courage to query The Repossessed Ghost to an independent press I met at Baycon, I used this keyboard to send it. After all, it was Michael giving me the encouragement at the time to submit the story. It felt correct to use his keyboard to create and send the email.

Then the “g” key stopped working on the keyboard, and I had to go back to tinkering on it again.

I reprinted the base. It’s now a proper yellow instead of the weird orange I used before. I used more solder. I cut an aluminum bar and placed it inside the keyboard to give it rigidity and support, just as I recently did for my keyboard.

I dedicated a bunch of time to this keyboard today, and I think it’s in the best shape it’s ever been. I’m looking forward to the next time I see Michael so I can give it to him. Actually, I’m just looking forward to seeing Michael again. It’s been a little while.

I have plans to make one more keyboard like this one, bringing the total up to 4. That is, my red and blue one (that I’m going to use to write the Cyberpunk story with), Michael’s, the one I gave away at the Writing Excuses retreat, and this new one which will be a Christmas present. I don’t know if she reads my blog or not, so I won’t say who it is for.

All of that alone would be enough to warrant talking about keyboards. It doesn’t take that much to get me to talk about this, though. This is a fun hobby for me, and it’s kind of perfect. It’s both technical and creative. It involves expression and problem solving, and when everything goes right, there’s something very useful produced at the end. Something that can be used for writing.

I will complete 4 with this original style. As of today, I’m starting a new one of a completely different style. One that looks more like this:

I like ergo keyboards, and Melissa likes ergo keyboards. She won’t use a keyboard these days unless it’s ergonomic. So, I’m starting one of these, and we’ll see how we like it.

Again, I’ll take the first one, which will bear all of the scars and imperfections that come from learning how to make these things. I’ll let Melissa try it, and if she likes it, I’ll make another one, customized for her.

This new keyboard will replace the keyboard on my desk. I will be able to write with it, but I’ll mostly use it for programming and gaming. I think it will improve my productivity with work, because I won’t have to move my hands off the keyboard nearly as much.

So far, I ordered the PCBs and electronics. I found some print files for the base, and I’ve printed half of it in glow-in-the-dark PLA, which should be really amazing. I still need to order some cables, keycaps, and buy some hardware. I think this keyboard is going to come together very quickly. Possibly by the end of the week.

This one is a bit more expensive than the ones I’ve been making. The PCBs and the electronics raise the price of materials by around $80. I won’t be making a ton of these.

I think that’s all I have to say on the subject of mechanical keyboards today. I’m sure I’ll talk about them some more, especially once I’ve finished putting together the new one.

But if I’m only making one or two of this new style, and I don’t have any intention of making more than 4 of the original style, what am I going to do with this hobby? What’s next?

I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll make more for friends or family. I think it would be neat if my kids were into keyboards, because I’d love to make one for each of them. Chris wants one with a 10 key, though, and Bryanna also doesn’t seem that interested.

If you have any thoughts on this, let me know.

I’m probably going to get into some spoilers here, so if you haven’t watched the entire first season of She-Hulk on Disney+, you might want to come back later. There will be another blog post tomorrow on a different topic if you don’t want anything She-Hulk related spoiled.

She-Hulk was good! Really good!

There appears to be a bunch of people on The Internet that didn’t like it, so I will acknowledge a couple of things about the show before I start lavishing praise on it. The big concern before it started airing was the CGI. For the most part, I thought it was really solid, but there are a few scenes where it’s a little bit weird and might pull people out. Whatever goofiness there may have been occasionally with the special effects didn’t bother me. It was not perfect, but it was good enough for me to have a great time.

A couple of the characters weren’t very deep or believable, to me. That also didn’t bother me, because they were in the spirit of the show. This thing was light, quirky, funny, and smart. An outrageous stylist and a self-entitled rich kid that wanted to dress up as a frog were pretty much on point for the tone of the show. That goes for a number of other characters, too. The show knew what it was, and they knew what they were doing.

I can’t think of any other ways I’d criticize this, other than to say I wish it was longer.

It completely captured the feel of the She-Hulk from the comics, right down to her 4th wall breaking. There are a handful of people that criticized this (while at the same time praising Deadpool for it), which is odd because in the comics, she was breaking the 4th wall before Deadpool started doing it. That was part of the tone of the comics, which was woven directly into the show.

Tatiana Maslany crushed it as Jennifer Walters/She-Hulk. She was the best part of the show, which already had a lot going for it.

Unlike a lot of the other Marvel Disney+ shows, this one knew that it was an episodic show, and it played out as an episodic show. As much as I like the other shows, they often feel like a 3 hour movie spread over 8 episodes. She-Hulk dodged that.

It was a good time. Really. Is it my favorite thing ever? No. But it was everything I wanted it to be, and that’s enough.

Two more things, then I’ll close this off and play some video games.

First, I see the argument over and over how the MCU is all the same. It is not. It wasn’t all the same before She-Hulk came out, and it’s definitely not now. This one is different, and it addresses the meta in the text of the show, through Jennifer’s 4th wall breaks.

Finally, I want to talk about the ending because apparently, it’s controversial.

The very beginning pays perfect homage to the old Incredible Hulk TV series starring Bill Bixby. As soon as I saw it, I knew I was in for a treat. It made me happy. Then the episode unfolded, and as Jennifer got beat further and further into the ground by the plot, she became more and more unsettled. In the end, she broke the fourth wall entirely, making it look like the show dropped out to the Disney+ home screen, then proceeded to go to the show’s writer room and KEVIN in order to straighten things out.

The funny thing is, this is Jennifer Walters using one of her superpowers, her ability to break the 4th wall, in order to solve her problem. That’s different, but completely in-line with every other superhero finally.

I love it!

So, those are my thoughts on She-Hulk. I’m hoping for a season 2, and I hope she makes it onto the big screen, too.

Donald Trump. That’s who I don’t want to talk about. His lawsuits are in the news, so I feel a little bit compelled to talk in that direction.

How the hell did we get to this point? A demagogue with no redeeming qualities is heralded by about a third of the country as the dearest of leaders, and now he’s finally subpoenaed to stand and answer questions regarding the shitshow he stirred up on January 6th, 2021. Of course, he’s really only going to be compelled if the democrats retain control of The House.

And I’m just so, so sick of it. A criminal should not be dodging justice as a matter of political discourse. Right? Am I alone in thinking that’s a fucked up way to run things?

Quick aside… the grammar genie that lives in this application is telling me that I should have said “fucked-up,” using a hyphen. Thank you, grammar genie. I’m going to ignore you for now, but I appreciate you for not judging me on my use of profanity.

Where was I? Oh yeah. That fucking guy.

I really don’t want to talk about him anymore. I don’t want him taking up oxygen when there are so many other things to worry about. Climate crisis. Wealth inequality. Covid.

He had four years in office that he could have addressed any of that, but he wasn’t interested in anything but himself. He held rallies. He played golf. He made sure people used his hotels.

That’s four years we’re never going to get back. I don’t want to think how many more years we’re going to have to deal with the idiots he emboldened. The anti-vaxers. The pro-Russia, anti-American idiots that watch for Q drops and spout off that they’re the true Americans when they stand for none of the ideals delineated in our Constitution. Nothing but the 2nd Amendment, anyway, and their interpretation of that lacks merit. Red hat wearing, loud mouthed assholes that proudly announce that there never was a pandemic, and that Covid is just the flu.

Maybe I’ve been hitting the cough medicine a little hard tonight and I shouldn’t be saying these things. I know at least one person that would encourage me to take a lighter approach and try to be understanding.

Look. Listen. Let me be clear.

If after all of the bullshit you’re still a Trump loving redcap, you and I are not friends. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t need you to read my stories. I don’t want you in my life. I don’t know how you found me or this blog, but the exit is that way. I’m not going to try to save you. I want nothing to do with you.

That’s not a very nice thing for me to say, I know. But I’m not trying to be a nice guy. I want to be a sweet man. I want to be a good man, and Trump’s followers are not good people. Some of them may be suckers at this point, but I don’t care. There have been plenty of opportunities to get off that train. The “grab ’em by the pussy” guy, the one that cheated on his wife while she was pregnant with his son, has shown you who he is every day for years. If you’re a good person, you should not be following him or buying his snake oil.

Okay. Big sigh. That was cathartic.

Tomorrow, I’ll try to write something with a little less vitriol. I guess I just needed to get that off my chest.

And to keep this post at least a little bit writing related… damn. The last half decade sure has given me a lot of good material to use when writing about a dystopia.

I don’t know why I was worried about finding enough topics for this month. Every day, there is a new outrage on Twitter to comment on.

Today, I learned that we’re not supposed to give a thumbs up gesture anymore.

Why NOBODY should be using the 'thumbs up' emoji in 2022

Full story: https://t.co/vaWd4yI9nz pic.twitter.com/SHGAFeNxVg

— Daily Mail Online (@MailOnline) October 12, 2022

It seems like some people used it sarcastically, and now it’s… bad? It’s aggressive?

We should all grieve the death of nuance and context.

When the OK hand gesture was basically overtaken by white supremacists, I was a little bit upset assholes usurped what I thought was a common gesture, and we just let them have it. Maybe there’s some subtle difference in the tilt of the hand, but as a white guy that wants nothing to do with that hate movement, I’m not going to risk it. No more OK hand gesture for me.

But thumbs up doesn’t fall into that category. If we’re going to find fault with people using it with passive aggression, maybe we shouldn’t be upset with the gesture as much as the passive aggression.

As someone else said, I’ve seen people get a little upset over ending a sentence with a period.

I shared it with my college-freshman employee who told me ending sentences with periods is a sign of anger. pic.twitter.com/DZs5tIAO4y

— Tyce of The Tortured Writers Dept. ✍🏾👨🏾‍💻⸆⸉ (@21stCenturyCeo) October 12, 2022

This goes for the thumbs up, as well. A hand gesture as an affirmative can be effective, giving a visual queue to go along with my words.

As far as Twitter drama is concerned, this one seems pretty small, and maybe I’m just adding fuel to the fire by giving it as much attention as I have. I guess I just don’t want to give up forms of communication for reasons I have a hard time agreeing with.

Today’s topic comes once again from Twitter, where the message is that if you are not black and you are using a GIF of a black person to express yourself, that is digital blackface and is bad.

there are studies about digital blackface and how non-Black ppl use gifs to reference their feelings yet have no clue what the reference is from

they specifically type in an emotion then go for the Black version of it. it's weird asf.

— im HB: Joe Buddens biggest hater. (@H_Baeee) October 11, 2022

Me, a straight white male at the top of privilege mountain, should probably not touch this subject and just move along. I just took a shot of cough medicine, however, so I’m feeling more foolish than wise, so let’s do this.

I agree with the person in the tweet that if people are specifically looking for the black version of a gif to express themselves, that is weird. I don’t know anyone that does that, which isn’t to say it doesn’t happen. It sounds weird, and I don’t understand it.

That’s not really the direction I want to go with this, though.

I’ll get my personal experience with expressing myself with gifs out of the way. For the longest time, I’ve been running with a bunch of people on Twitter called the #WriteFightGIFClub. We’re all writers, we do writing sprints together in November, and we express ourselves with GIFs. It’s fun. It’s a good group of people that are very supportive, and it’s one of the reasons I latched onto Twitter as hard as I did. Covid kind of killed that group, but we’re still around. We’re just really, really tired.

I have definitely used GIFs of people that were not white. I didn’t really think about it. I just saw a picture of a person making some expression that matched the mood or vibe and went with it. I didn’t seek out black people, but I also didn’t exclude them.

There’s the heart of it. That’s what I want to talk about.

Blackface was a way of taking an entire race and reducing them into a caricature, emphasizing their physical differences and othering them for entertainment. Blackface is a way of saying, “look how different these people are. Aren’t they funny?” Blackface is about separation, dehumanization, and is obviously Bad with a capital B.

I have a hard time equating blackface with using GIFs of a black people. If I’m using a GIF to express myself, I’m saying, “This person is like me. This person is expressing what I’m feeling. We are the same.”

If people are just grabbing GIFs of black people and laughing at them because they think the picture is funny… well… that’s something else. There is separation there. Laughter is being had at the expense of the person in the GIF. There is a whiff of othering there.

But I know that’s now how I have been using GIFs, and it’s not how my friends were using GIFs.

It makes me wonder where the outrage is coming from.

Another part of the argument in the Twitter thread is in regard to knowing where a meme comes from. I have a vague recollection of a video where I thought “Bye Felicia” started. I don’t remember. But you know what? I don’t know where most of my memes come from.

Yeah, I have no idea where this originated from, but I think I personally make that expression at least three times a day.

No one is complaining about using that GIF. The root of the complaint in the original thread is about appropriation, and… and I can’t disagree with that. It is appropriation.

So where does that leave things?

I don’t know. If I’m wrong and I need to start looking at my GIFs to make sure they don’t feature people of color, well, I’ll do that. Or maybe I won’t use GIFs anymore at all. I don’t know. If my behavior is hurting people, I’m willing to change my behavior. I don’t want to hurt anyone.

If there’s something I’m missing, please let me know.

I feel like I’ve talked about this before. I’m going to talk about dealing with a lack of executive function. It’s something that comes up more and more frequently. As I understand it, this is a part of living with ADHD. I’ve never been officially diagnosed, but there are about a dozen signs pointing in that direction.

What is it like?

Emotionally, it’s frustrating. It probably looks like I’m being lazy or screwing around, but from behind my eyes, it’s much worse than that. There is a goal or a task I wish to accomplish, and I simply… can’t. Something won’t let me.

Have you ever had your arm go to sleep so soundly that you couldn’t lift it? You try and try, but nothing happens. That’s what it’s like.

Sometimes, I can expend a great deal of mental energy and force myself to work on the task. Sometimes, I can trick myself into doing the tasks through distraction. Bribes don’t usually work. Offering myself treats usually leads to me skipping the task and going straight for the treat. In addition to being unable to work on what I want to work on, my impulse control is also diminished.

I’m not sure how other people deal with it. I have a white board that helps, but putting the tasks on the white board can itself become a task that I struggle doing. Music is often a huge help, but that’s not always a practical option.

I think other people get help, but the act of asking is… well. I guess I’m still terrified. I don’t want to be like my biological mother. Bipolar. Manic depressive. The signs are there for that, too.

Even with my struggles with executive function, my brain is still my most precious asset. I use it to write. I use it to troubleshoot. I had a late evening with work tonight, troubleshooting and fixing things that depend on me being sharp. And, though this sounds prideful, I really am very smart, and it’s that strength that allows me to keep my job and be useful.

Messing with my brain scares me. After hearing about Covid messing with people’s personality and mental faculties, I was terrified that I would be diminished after getting Covid. So far, I appear to have avoided that problem. But drugs? Drugs for dealing with depression or bipolar or whatever I’m diagnosed with could be the thing that culminates all of my fear.

What if I’m unable to write?

If it comes down to a question of whether or not I would want to be a writer or be who I am today, I would rather continue as I am. Bliss is fleeting. Happiness is a moment. Even with the depression and struggles, there are still moments that rise above that are good and joyful. I would not want to trade away who I am for… I don’t know what.

And I really hope none of what I’ve said here is offensive. Mental healthcare is healthcare, and I’m not trying to diminish it or anything. I have fears around it, and I’m mostly talking about what I’m afraid of, which isn’t necessarily the reality.

The reality is probably that if I had better mental health, I could be free to be more of who I want to be.

It’s just really hard to see that reality from where I’m sitting right now. To me, moving towards that reality is like stepping into a burning building.

Why am I talking about this now?

Some conversations on Twitter made me think of it. And, last week when I went and saw Melissa’s doctor, I filled out a depression screening form twice. Once online, once on paper. Based on how I answered those questions, I thought I would be having a conversation with the doctor about mental health. But nothing happened. Nothing came from it.

Wednesday, I’ll be meeting my doctor for the first time. I’m going to try and talk to her about it then.

I’ve had Cyberpunk on my brain for a long while, now. I’ve been playing Cyberpunk 2077 quite a bit lately (and streaming it, occasionally). I’ve watched and rewatched Bladrunner and its sequel. Neuromancer is my current audio book. I have a longing to get into a Cyberpunk Red or Shadowrun game. The only way I’m ever going to move on from this genre is to write an actual Cyberpunk story.

I’m not talking about fan fiction in Mike Pondsmith’s world, or an adaption of anything related to Philip K. Dick. I want to write something new. I think I can do it.

My 2nd novel, Spin City, touches on some Cyberpunk tropes. It’s SciFi with some noir flavor, which is a huge part of the aesthetic of Cyberpunk. But there’s more to it.

I want to write about body autonomy, the evils of corporations when capitalism runs out of control, and the people that get caught in the middle when the machines of industry grind against each other.

In my next novel, I think I want to sprinkle in some patriotism and faith, as well. It’s through patriotism and faith that we see atrocities committed today. I think I can use that as pivotal, motivational grease to keep my new Cyberpunk world believable and unfortunately relatable.

This isn’t to say that I have anything strictly against patriotism or faith. I respect faith and think it’s important in our lives, whether we identify it as faith or not. And patriotism, when held in check with critical thinking, can also be fantastic. Who doesn’t want to be proud of and feel like a part of a nation that is prospering and doing good work?

So, I think I have some material to work with. In my Cyberpunk world, corporations run the world, and my main character is going to believe in the company that they work for. They will believe in it so much that they will do regrettable things. Patriotism and faith will be key. And then somewhere in second act, I’m going to shatter this person’s faith and send them to the streets.

During the second act, we’ll take our protagonist and pair them with someone that is an anticorporate, anti-capitalist rebel. Someone that is pushing for the opposite of what our protagonist stood for. Maybe this will be a love interest? Throw in a little bit of enemy to lovers, maybe?

By the third act, our protagonist has traded one faith for another, so we’ll pull the rug out from under them again. Perhaps the rebels have acquired fissile material and mean to bring down the whole system permanently?

Of course, the fissile material would have had to come from the corporations in the first place, and our protagonist should start to put together how much of what’s going on in the street is manipulation. The conflict keeps people uniting. The corporate wars are all a front and a means of keeping people down.

I’m not sure how this will end. None of what I’ve said here is written in stone. I have a little bit of an outline started, but it’s thin. I don’t know that much about my main character yet. If this is going to be a full novel, I’ll need more characters and side stories that support and push against the main thread.

I don’t think this can have a happy ending. The best we can hope for in this scenario is a satisfying ending. I’m not interested in writing 100,000 words just to bum people out. I will need to find some way to shine some light of hope at the end.

The reality is that I’m just going to be writing about our world as we know it, but exaggerated. We already live in a Cyberpunk dystopia. We’re constantly connected, wired to a digital world through our cell phones. Corporations control everything. The rich keep getting richer, the poor keep getting poorer, and basic human rights are eroded through corruption and dark money and greed. It’s hard to look at current events and maintain hope for the future.

But somehow, that’s what I want to achieve by the end of this novel.

I might be biting off more than I can chew with this one. We’ll see how it goes.

I just got home from Mike Baltar’s house. Today is his birthday, and today is also the day we were to meet with the rest of our critique group. I am the only one that had a submission this month, and it was The Writer, The Knight, and The Lady. I’ve recently talked about writers and their relationships with other writers, but tonight’s meeting got me thinking about writer’s and their relationship with their stories. So let’s talk about that.

My relationship with my writing is this: it feels like an extension of myself.

My stories should be products of my intellect and skill. That would be a healthier way of looking at it. I go into the word mine and toil, committing effort and sweat, until something is extracted, polished, and presented for other people to consume. It’s a product, to be given away or sold.

It feels more like I’m scooping out a part of myself, dressing it up as best I can, and then putting it in front of other people to be judged. When someone finds fault with one of my stories, they are finding fault with me.

They’re not actually judging me, and I’m not quite that immature when it comes to receiving critiques, but I always have a little bit of fear. I have worked on this. I don’t get defensive anymore.

This sounds like my critique didn’t go well tonight. It did! The critique itself was very positive. It’s a decent story that is difficult to execute well. If I want it to be great, I’m going to have to put more work into it. Right now, it’s just kinda good.

Before the critique started, I thought about the story and didn’t think it would land very well. A couple of characters don’t get enough screen time to be very well fleshed out. There were problems in the story that I was aware of, and I thought that would mean it wouldn’t read well.

But, it worked. My group confirmed some of the things I suspected wrong with it, and now I can choose to do more with it, or leave it in the pile with the rest of the short stories I’m not doing anything with.

I care about every story I’ve written. They are both a part of me and my product. I want them to find good homes and do well in the world. They were written to be read by others, so that’s what I hope for all of them.

I suppose that’s all I have to say on the subject. I thought it would be more complicated than that. There are healthy relationships between the writer and their work, and there are unhealthy relationships. I recognize some of the places where my feelings about my stories have been unhealthy in the past, and I’ve worked to put some distance between me and the things I write. But I think there will always be a link between my sense of self-worth and the way my stories are received.

Today’s unplanned topic comes from a conversation on Twitter, which starts here:

https://twitter.com/writingiswar/status/1578430141075578881

First, it’s preposterous to me that someone should get upset about content warnings. Trauma is real. Giving someone a chance to look away and avoid something that will unsettle them is a low risk, low effort kindness. Maybe some people use them for other purposes, but who cares?

It turns out that the guy that blocked Chad is another author, and that really stuck in my craw. As Chad points out, “Why try to find other readers when we can tear each other down.”

Writing is hard work. It takes an incredible amount of time and commitment of energy and focus. Writers should know this.

We should be building each other up and supporting each other. I know what I’ve gone through while writing my novels. I’ve spent time querying and have experienced the bitter taste of rejection. While most people have given me positive feedback for my stories, I know what it’s like when one doesn’t quite land. Being a writer brings me incredible joy and satisfaction, but it can be harrowing, and I know that every other writer out there has gone through some of what I’ve experienced. Many have had it worse.

The right thing to do is recognize the shared commitment and pain, then offer whatever support we can afford. Kindness is often the greatest gift we can give, and it’s free.

I have read some stories from less prestigious writers that didn’t land for me, and I’m not going to publicly bash them. It doesn’t benefit them, and it doesn’t reflect well on me, either. I’ll criticize authors with bigger names when it’s appropriate, because a bad review from me won’t hurt them. But in general, it’s better to just say nothing at all if I don’t have something nice to say.

As writers, we should buy each other coffee. When we’re happy with another writer’s work, we should shout it from the summit of Social Media Mountain.

We’re colleagues. Coworkers. For the most part, we are not in competition with each other. We’re all carving out parts of our soul with an ice cream scoop and dolloping it onto the page for prospective readers. It should not be that hard to have sympathy for people going through the same thing as us.