Melissa and I completed our first real day of the Westercon experience.

If I adhere to adage, “If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all,” then this will be a somewhat short post.  I do have some nice things to say, though, so I’ll start with this.

We started off meeting up with Jim Doty.  Jim is the guy that gave me the words I needed at Westercon last year, which led to me creating this blog.  He’s a really great guy, and it was a pleasure introducing him to Melissa.

As we were talking with Jim, Melissa and I noticed that people appeared to have programs for the convention.  I acquired some, and they had some detailed information about the different panels and events.  They didn’t have a map or schedule, however.

We had some time to kill, so Melissa and I wandered around the hotel so that we could find where all the rooms were.  One of the hotel staff saw us meandering and printed us a couple of maps.  She was very helpful, and the maps were useful.  The hotel staff have been absolutely fantastic.

Melissa and I entered the room for opening ceremony a little bit early and got seats towards the front.  They wound up being front row, when the chairs in front of us were snatched up and put next to stage for guests.

I’d warned Melissa that opening ceremony and closing ceremony are two of the events of a convention that are usually skippable.  This opening ceremony was no exception.  It wasn’t bad.  The chair of the event did a good job with introductions and had a good sense of humor.  The honored guests are all fantastic.

The next event Melissa and I attended was the Writing Excuses anthology release party.  Each of the members of Writing Excuses spoke a little about the project, and then snuck the presentation of an award to Dan Wells.  I had a pretty huge smile on my face the whole time.  When presentation was finished, they had books for sale, and they provided some fruit and cheese for snacks.  I bought a book for Melissa and I and had all of the members of Writing Excuses sign it.

With the anthology presentation completed, the next event was live taping of several Writing Excuses episodes.  I’ve listened to the first few seasons of the podcast.  I highly recommend listening to them.  I also attending a live recording if you get a chance.  If you do, be sure and sit towards the front, as they set their volumes for best recording quality, which means it’s a little quiet for a large, crowded room.

After the Writing Excuses recordings, Melissa and I followed Mary Robinette Kowal to a panel on schmoozing at conventions.  Also on the panel was Sandra Tayler and David Doering.  They didn’t present a lot of information I didn’t already know, but it was interesting, and I took lots of notes.  When the convention is completed, I’ll post my notes in a new section at the top of this blog.

That was the last panel Melissa and I attended.  We had dinner, then went to the ice cream social for an hour.  We sat with Richard Crawford and his wife.  I’ve run into them at conventions many times, and they are integral in the NaNoWriMo chapter I’ve attended the last two years.  We had a great visit.

After the ice cream social, I went to the game room and participated in a Magic: the Gathering draft, hosted by Brandon Sanderson.  I was nervous, because I’ve been out of the game for quite a while.  Thankfully, Brandon kept it low pressure, and I wound up doing well and having a lot of fun.

The convention itself has been a bit disorganized, from my perspective.  But Melissa has been having a great time, and I think it’s been a great first convention for her.  And, really, these things are about the people, and all of the people have been wonderful.  The organization of the convention has been a bit of a mess, but I would have to declare Day 1 a success.

With WorldCon beyond my reach this year, I will only be able to attend two conventions.  Convolution, at the end of September, and Westercon, starting this week.  As usual, I will attend panels and take copious notes.

One difference with this convention is that I’ve brought Melissa with me.  She was delighted when I invited her along, and I think she’s been more excited about this convention than me.  This is her first, so I’m going to do my best to make sure she has a good time, and gets the greatest Sci-Fi/Fantasy convention experience.

The travel day was exceptionally light and easy.  Melissa was worried we would be late getting to the airport, so we wound up leaving a little earlier than I wanted.  We had to wait for a little while, but we had each other and our tablets to keep each other entertained.

The flight from Sacramento to Salt Lake City was uneventful.  Aside from some queasiness brought on from ascent and descent, there was no turbulence, and the landing was the smoothest I can remember.  As we were landing, I thought of the conversation Melissa and I had about our life insurance, and how inadequate it probably is.  I’m not the most confident of fliers, but this was a really easy flight.

Since Melissa was with me, I arranged for us to have a rental car for this week.  I normally just take the shuttle from the airport to the hotel, but I wanted to make sure that Melissa could escape if she got too bored with all of the geekery.  This led to a discovery about Salt Lake City that I will need to incorporate in one of my books.  I’ll get to that in a moment.

The route from the airport to the hotel was extremely easy.  In fact, getting around Salt Lake City seems like it would be very simple, under normal circumstances.  It is laid out in a grid, and there are adequate signs on all of the roads I’ve seen.  The street names themselves are confusing, since they not only use numbers, they repeat the same numbers for different streets.  At one point last night, I turned from one 300 street to another, and a little while later, was at an intersection that was 300 and 300.

Melissa and I arrived at the convention about a day early, but registration was open.  I saw a few familiar faces from other conventions floating through the hotel as we wandered into the registration room.  There were 3 volunteers in the room, looking a little bit bored.  We signed in, got our badges, and a little bit of swag.  They didn’t have their programs yet.

We had some time to kill, so we wandered around.  We went to dinner at a Brazilian steak place, where they come around periodically and bring different types of meat.  It was really expensive, but it was good, and we had a good time with it.

After dinner, Melissa and I went back to the registration room, hoping to get our programs.  I wanted to plan out our day.  The programs were still late.  As I’m writing this, it’s 20 minutes before opening ceremonies, and the programs still aren’t anywhere to be seen.  This is not a good sign, but I’m going to try and stay optimistic.

We were fed, and there wasn’t much more we could do with the convention, so we decided to buy some internet access and watch some Netflix.  I thought it would be great to put it on the television in our room via my laptop, but to do that, we needed an HDMI cable.  Well, we had a car, and the hotel staff gave us directions to a Walmart.

That’s when we discovered something interesting about Salt Lake City.  It is easy to navigate the place, but the lights seem to be timed strangely.  There was road construction going on near the store, and it was looking like we couldn’t go there.  Then it hit me: In Salt Lake City, no one cares if you’re trying to go somewhere.

That doesn’t sound that unusual.  Apathy is pervasive.  In practice, this particular brand of apathy struck me as unique.  As easy as it is to navigate, I found people stopping and blocking paths with indifference, both in their cars and walking around.  Even the road construction we encountered seemed to encapsulate the idea.  They simply blocked stuff off, and gave no detour or path as compensation.

Something else that struck me as strange about the place: it felt empty yesterday.  Melissa and I were walking through the downtown area, and there just didn’t seem to be many people around.  We were in the middle of an open mall area, and it felt like it was built up bigger than it needed to be.  Chicago, San Francisco, and Sacramento all have a little bit of a crowded feel around 5 PM, but not this place.

I’m hoping that the convention doesn’t feel the same way.  We will find out soon enough!

I haven’t written much lately.  Actually, I haven’t done any writing in several weeks.

I submitted a good short story to Writer’s of the Future, and some part of me was waiting for a response.  I tried not to get my hopes up to high, but when I didn’t get any notification at all, I started to fret.  I wanted the rejection letter so that I could move on.  Or, I wanted it accepted, and then I could move on.  The absence of any word unsettled me, because in spite of myself, I had let my hopes get pretty high.

It’s all about uncertainty.  I’ve struggled with my confidence, feeling like a pretender every time I tell someone that I’m a writer.  There have been victories in this area, and there have been defeats.  I consider the last few weeks a time of defeat, because I let my lack of confidence rule me, and scare me away from my keyboard.

At the same time, the writers groups I was enjoying evaporated.  A couple of the people in those groups have been enjoying some success, and I am a little bit envious.  I haven’t gone out on my Wednesday writing   Work has also been busy during this time.  And my daughter just graduated from high school.

In terms of writing, the last several weeks have been unsuccessful, but I’ve been living.  I’ve been busy and productive.

The rejection letter from Writers of the Future got me down for a little while, but I think it’s just what I needed.  It was an answer, and it eliminated the uncertainty.  It was also a reminder of the part of me that I’ve allowed to languish.

I know what I have to do.  I have to sit down at the keyboard and pull some words out of my brain.  I’ve tried a couple of things to jump start my muse.  Fear and uncertainty have ruled me, but that’s just part of the journey.  Admitting it here helps.  Sharing helps.

Let’s see if it helps enough.

Last week, a flyer was stuck to my garage door, describing Friday as a free E-Waste pick-up day.  It said that there was no limit, and they would take old monitors, computers, appliances, metal tools, and other assorted items of that nature.  All I had to do was take all of my old junk, put it out on the driveway, and attach the flyer with my name and address, along with the number of old monitors and TVs I was getting rid of.

I decided to do it, and it was amazing how much I was able to unpack from my garage.  There were 6 monitors, 9 old computers, a rusted, broken down lawnmower, a defunct weed whacker, and something that I think was probably a vacuum cleaner.  It was hard to tell, since there wasn’t much there.

While I was unloading all of this old tech from my garage, I saw my old Apple IIgs sitting off in a corner.

I didn’t put the Apple out on the driveway.  Instead, I took it to my dining room and set it all up on the table.

The stockpile of technology that I’d set outside had been acquired in the last decade.  Some of it worked, but most of it didn’t.  Computers have a short half-life.  It only takes a couple of years for them to become dated, slow, and undesirable.

This Apple, however, still works perfectly.  All of the disks I have for it still load.  They keyboard is easy to type on.  This thing is nearly 30 years old, and it runs as it always did.

It can’t last forever, though.  Nothing lasts forever.  My Apple still runs now, but it might not function next year, or next month, or maybe even tomorrow.

Yesterday, I fired up Appleworks and started opening up the stories I wrote a long time ago.  The million words of crap you need to write before you become good?  I strapped on some long gloves and went elbow deep into my pile.

I have my Surface Pro 2 sitting in front of the Apple IIgs, with the Apple’s keyboard just off to the right.  I occasionally reach over to the Apple keyboard in order to page down, while I transcribe all of my old writing into Scrivener.  My Scrivener project is saving into a Dropbox directory, so I’m taking the stories I wrote in my teens and twenties and preserving them, such that no single piece of hardware can fail and erase it all.

I’ve learned quite a bit from this exercise.

1. I write very clean first drafts.  This isn’t to say that they are good, necessarily.  They’re just grammatically more polished than a lot of first (or even second or third)  drafts I’ve read from other authors.  I thought this was a skill that I had picked up over the years, while writing my million words of crap.  One of the stories I transposed yesterday is unfinished first draft, and it was actually very easy to read, with strong verbs, minimal adverbs, and decent description.
2. My Arthur Kane stories are as bad as I thought they were.  This was the first book I wrote, which is about a genius, acrobatic, martial arts wielding, sharpshooter private investigator that lives on the moon in the early 2070’s.  The book is three of his cases strung together, each case being about 20,000 words in length.  The plot is contrived, the characters are unbelievable, and the details are impossible.  This is not a story I want to share with anyone, ever again.
3. The Arthur Kane stories are bad, but I was a pretty decent writer for my age.  There are places throughout where I did things right.  There are decent metaphors.  There are decent story arcs, and I was not afraid to really abuse my protagonists.
4. Looking at where I started, I can see how far I’ve come.  The kid that wrote the stories that I’m transcribing had a lot to learn, but he also had a great deal of potential.  My ability to write and tell stories has progressed, and this exercise has given me a tangible measure of that progress.

So far, I’ve only transcribed a fraction of what I’ve written.  This is going to take me a while.

Maybe I’ll do something with these old story ideas someday, but probably not.  I have new stories to tell.  I don’t want to spend all my time rewriting.  I’m taking the time now to just preserve what I’ve already written, and keep this very important point in my life alive, so that I can continue to measure my growth as I go forward.

Things have been quiet and dark in my world lately.

This isn’t going to be a negative post.  I don’t want to make negative posts here.  I want to be a positive person, and I want my blog to be a positive place.  That’s part of why it has been so quiet lately.

I do want to talk about struggles, and overcoming them.  That’s the stuff of heroes, and the kind of material an author can learn from and draw upon when putting their stories together.

One of the struggles has been writing.  I haven’t been making the time for it, and I’ve been letting my insecurities and fear lead the way.  It’s a dark cycle, because when I’m not writing, I’m more irritable, and I give fuel and voice to all of my inner demons.  That just leads to more time where I’m not writing.

It has an impact on my ability to work, too.  I’m slowed down when I’m angry with myself.  When self-doubt is ruling me, I have a hard time making decisions, and programming is all about being decisive.

My perspective gets skewed.  I begin to imagine hostility and dark intentions on the part of others.  I feel like the world is out to get me, that I have no luck, and that I’m utterly alone and powerless.

Fortunately, I know that it’s bullshit.  I’ve gone through all of this before, and I know enough about what’s going on that I can fight back.

I know how to get through this, and get to the other side.  I have to face the void and instead of seeing the blackness, I have to see the brilliant stars that are my successes.

I’ll share some of them with you:

1. After ComicCon, I decided that I was too heavy and needed to lose some weight.  In spite of feeling a bit down, I’ve stuck with my diet, eating responsibly.  I’ve gone from 202 lbs to 186.
2. I went and played in a game with Pol the last two weekends.  I was able to put aside all the angst and hang out with friends, and I was able to smile and have a good time.
3. I’ve been able to recognize the dark emotions and hold onto them without letting them control me.  This is different than denial or compartmentalizing.

When I get to the end of this journey and I look back, I know that this is going to be one of the moments where I’ll be most proud of myself.  There is a voice inside my head that has insisted that I give up the dream and embrace mediocrity.

Part of me wants to quit.  But I’m still here.  It’s Wednesday, and I’m at my writing Starbuck’s, with my writing tools open.

It’s time to write some stories.

I’m not going to post my March count right now, because it’s too embarrassing.  Maybe this weekend.

I should be working on my fantasy novel, but I’m struggling.  A chapter header is staring at me, and I’m finding it difficult to push forward.  I’m not going to call it “writer’s block” because I have too many friends that say that writer’s block doesn’t exist.  Instead, I’ll deal with my not-writing by composing this blog post.

Writer’s Mana

If a wizard requires a single resource called “mana” in order to power his spells, a writer (specifically me) draws on three resources: time, energy, and courage.

Notice I didn’t mention anything about imagination or story ideas.  I think that if you’re writing, you already have those in abundance.  And if you’re not writing, well, you probably still have those in abundance.  I think anyone can write if they have enough time, energy, and courage.

Lauren Sapala describes time and energy in the same breath, but I want to keep them separate for now.  I want to talk about each resource, and the ways in which I’m struggling with each.

Time

I have a full time job, a family, and other commitments, such as the community band I perform with and the Computer Club I run at my kids’ school.  These all require time.  Mondays in particular are filled to the rafters, but the rest of the days are busy, too.  When I try to budget my time on a calendar, I become very uncomfortable.  There aren’t a lot of places to carve out blocks of writing time.

It’s a solvable problem, though.  I have dedicated Wednesday evenings to writing, and that’s been fantastic.  I’ve stolen lunches at work to write a few hundred words several times.  Occasionally, I get out of the house on a weekend and find some place with fewer distractions, and steal time for my passion.  We all have time, as long as we are willing to trim some of the fat, as Lauren described in the article I linked above.

Energy

For me, energy is my capacity to make decisions.  I expend a great deal of energy at work, creating software.  I expend a fair amount teaching Computer Club.  I spend energy in the form of focus, when I play with the band.  Energy is mind fuel, and sometimes my tank runs dry.

That’s what I’m struggling with the most right now.  We just changed offices at work, and I’m wasting so much energy fretting over the longer commute that I don’t have much left in the tank to do my job, or write my story.

As to the question of how to get more energy, I don’t have perfect answers.  I think it helps to do things you enjoy, but not everything I enjoy is free.  For example, I enjoy writing, but it costs me something to do it.  Some games I play also have a mental cost involved.  Getting a good night’s sleep helps with the energy levels.  Different people recharge differently.  For me, it’s about finding some place quiet and participating in some activity in which I don’t have to make a lot of decisions.

Courage

In regards to writing, courage is the capacity to overcome fear.  As a writer, I have a ton of fears to contend with.  I’m afraid of starting a chapter.  I’m afraid my writing will be terrible.  I’m afraid that my work will be rejected.  I’m afraid I won’t finish what I’ve started.  I’m afraid that I’m just a parrot of the people I admire, and that someday, someone is going to see through my writing and see…

We all have fears.  Some of us have the same fears, and some of us have some that are unique to our personal experience.

I don’t think writing is about eradicating your fears.  I think it’s about finding the courage to overcome them.  Some fears may go away, but I think others will always be there.  We each have to find it within ourselves to step up to the ledge and take the leap, and know that we’ll be able to fly.

That’s one of the things I’m struggling with tonight.  I have a blank, empty chapter in front of me, and I’m having a difficult time gathering up the courage to take the next leap.

Fortunately, I know some ways to build up courage.  One way is to tackle smaller problems, building up a reserve of confidence, which translates directly into courage.  Having trouble writing a novel?  Write a short story.  Having trouble with the short story?  Write a paragraph.  Or write a sentence.  Set goals that you can achieve, and then do it again, and again.  In my case, I’m struggling with writing a story, so I’m writing a blog post.

Another way to find courage is distraction.  This doesn’t always work for me, but it does work sometimes.  The idea is to get so wrapped up in something else that you forget to be afraid for a few minutes.  Before you know it, you’re into the work, and fear is no longer an option.  Since writing for me is a mental exercise,  the only distractions that have worked for me have been emotional ones.

Finally, courage can be faked through what I like to think of as constructive apathy.  This resembles desperation, and it works the same way.  I convince myself that I don’t care about the consequences, and then push forward.

Constructive apathy is dangerous, and I don’t think it’s necessarily healthy.  I started to list some examples I’ve used, and I when I realized how terrible they sounded, I deleted them.  If you’re desperate enough, it is an answer.  It just isn’t a good one.

March Word Count: 4275 (deficit of 2725)

I’m sitting at a table in the Sacramento Convention Center, about 45 minutes early for picking up my Wizard World package.  Even after I get my VIP package, it’ll be a little while before I can go in.  It’s a good thing I brought my stuff for writing, isn’t it?

I’m not sure what to expect from this convention.  There are a lot of names that I recognize, and a lot of people will be here whose work I admire.  Other conventions I’ve gone to, there have been panels for me to attend to help me learn more about the business of writing.  This convention, I think I’m supposed to just be a fan.  I don’t really know how to be a fan.

Comic books used to be a bigger part of my life.  I used to collect Ghost Rider, and I followed most of the major Marvel and DC titles for years through my friends.  Hell, when I was in college, the owner of the comic book store I used to frequent would let me read stuff in the store, and would answer whatever questions I had about current events.  That was a long time ago.  Comic books have been eclipsed in my life by other interests.

As I understand it, this convention is about more than comic books.  I think it’s a celebration of pop culture, and all of the things that a proper geek is supposed to celebrate.  I can get behind that.

I think I’ll have a good time.  I’m sure this will be an experience.  If I can paint a picture with words, then this post is the before picture, where I’m sitting with all of the excitement and nervousness of a first-time Comic Con attendee.  Sunday, I’ll post my afterthoughts.

March Word Count: 4200 (800 short of daily goal)

I’ve been meaning to post something about this since November.  I’ve been thinking about it a lot the last couple of weeks, and some recent conversations have brought it to the forefront of my mind.

I need to get better at taking criticism.  This mostly applies to writing, but it feeds into other parts of my life, too.

My greatest problem is how much I associate my self-worth with my work.  I pour myself into it.  This means that I’m passionate about it, and I really give it my all.  It also means that when I put my work in front of someone else, I’m exposed and vulnerable.

At ConVolution, I was exceptionally nervous.  I felt a little bit of nausea before the workshop met up, and I was a gibbering mess on the inside, when it got to my turn.  As each person spoke, I listened as best I could, while at the same time I was thinking, “Don’t be that guy… don’t be that guy…” When it was time for me to ask questions for clarification, I couldn’t really say much.  I said that I agreed with everything that was said, and I thanked everyone for the feedback.  I might have asked a question, but I don’t remember.  I was still trying to keep myself together.

That was probably the best I’ve done, and it was harrowing.  Since then, I’ve relaxed a little bit, but that hasn’t necessarily been good.

The time before last when the Auspicious NorCal Writer’s group met up, we reviewed a couple of chapters of my Mel Walker story, and I did not handle it well.  I had a very bad reaction to it, and I wound up creating some drama in the group.

The last time we met, my work received a very mild review.  That would be okay, except that my story was terrible.  It had pacing problems.  It had plot problems.  It was gimmicky.

I need to know when my stories don’t work, but at the same time, I need to not take the criticism so hard that my ego and self-confidence take a tumble.

Part of what’s keeping me going is a belief that I am a good writer.  It’s tenuous, though, because I don’t have any real successes that I can hang my hat on.

The only way I’m going to get better at receiving critiques is through additional trial and error.   It’s like writing itself.  If you want to improve, you have to do it, and not just talk about it.  Hopefully I haven’t broken things beyond repair with the Auspicious group.

To make the most the critiques, I think I need to provide some guidance.  When I was first asked what sort of critiques I wanted, I said, “Whatever is in your heart.” That was my answer, because I didn’t know what I wanted.  I have a slightly better set of guidelines, now.

• If something doesn’t work, I want to know that it doesn’t work.
• If something is good, I really want to know that it is good.  But I don’t want this fudged.  It needs to be genuine, if I’m going to be able to use this to improve.
• I am not receptive to someone telling me how they would write my story.  This is not meant to be bitchy.  I bring this up to address my own idiosyncrasies.  When someone else tells me how they would write my story, I hear, “You’re not good enough to write this on your own, let me help you.” This is my kryptonite.
• If we’re looking at a first draft, bear in mind that it is a first draft.  Applying analysis at a high depth might be useful, but it also might be a waste of time for everyone involved.

I think these guidelines will probably help safeguard me against myself.  There are probably other guidelines that I haven’t thought of yet, but I’m only going to learn them through continued efforts.

I finished the Prelude of A Clean Slate tonight.  I edited what I’d done last week, and I wrote a little more than 700 words.  It’s more than last week, though still less than I’d like to be adding in a writing session.

I want to talk for a moment about writing sessions.  Specifically, Wednesday evenings.

I said in my last post that I’m going to post word counts here, and I meant it.  Unfortunately, I haven’t had any word counts to post until tonight.  That’s been one of the great things about having a set night: no matter what else is going on in my life, I’ve got this block of time set aside for writing, and I haven’t wavered.  I’ve been keeping my weekly writing appointment.

Having Michael present has helped.  It’s like having a work-out buddy.  We don’t usually talk much about what we’re writing, but just having a buddy there to help keep me honest is invaluable.

For the foreseeable future, Wednesday evenings won’t be available for Michael.  I found out just before driving out to Starbuck’s tonight, and I wanted to cry.  Michael’s going to be teaching writing.  I’m really happy for him, and I think it’s going to be good for him, just as teaching programming has been good for me.  But it is a change, and all of the crazy, neurotic fears I have around writing pressed against my defenses when I heard the news.

If scheduling doesn’t work out, and we’re not able to keep meeting, will I be able to keep going on my own?

The answer is: “Yes, of course.” Actually, that’s the abbreviated answer.  The full answer is, “Yes, of course.  Quit being a melodramatic idiot, Brian.  Write more than once a week, and it won’t be a problem.”

When I ask myself these questions, I can be both wise and a dick at the same time.

I’ll keep writing.  It’s just going to be a little bit harder.

I think I’m going to commit to my March plan.  31,000 words in 31 days.  A mini NaNoWriMo.  Anyone want to join me?  If one writing buddy was good, how much better would it be to have many writing buddies?

I’m about to pack up and leave Starbuck’s, and I feel pretty good.

Ever since I tried to reread A Clean Slate, I’ve been dreading the idea of starting again.  I knew that it was necessary.  The previous incarnation was bad enough that any attempt to fix it was going to be a complete rewrite.  It is easier and quicker just to dump the previous prose and start fresh.  Start A Clean Slate with a clean slate.

It wasn’t easy.  I managed to put it off last week by doing a bunch of outlining.  The outlining was necessary, but it also felt like I was procrastinating.  It felt like I was putting the scary part off for another day.

Why is it so scary?  Why does a brand new document fill me with so much dread?  It’s fear, for sure.  But why must I torture myself with all of this fear before I’ve even started?

I opened the new document tonight, selected the manuscript template, and filled in my name and the title of the story.  Then I procrastinated a little bit more, by taking to twitter and participating in #GenreChat.

Opening the new document was like riding a roller coaster to the very top, where everything slows down before the mad rush.  All of the anticipation is there, as well as the fear of crashing and burning.

#GenreChat finished, and I took the plunge.  I started slowly, picking up a little bit more speed as the setting started to solidify in my mind.  It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t torturous, either.  Self-doubt tells me that it might be torturous to my readers, but to hell with self-doubt.

I’m a little more than 500 words into the prelude, and that seems pretty good for now.  It’s a start.  More importantly, it’s another place where I faced my fears head-on and succeeded.

Tonight was a good night.