Where Do We Go From Here?

So here's the question of the day for me now that I've decided to start blogging again. Where do we go from here?

Of course it wouldn't be long before I got a Buffy reference in here.

Because I'll admit, I started doing this again with that post on Monday without any sort of plan other than getting that first post out there. So what to do next? A large focus of my blog in the past was as a reviewer. I reviewed every book I read. I spotlighted comics I really enjoyed, comic pages that really struck me. I passed judgment on every new TV show I watched each fall season and commented on whether they were worth sticking with (if I still did that, boy would I have some harsh words for you, Manifest and New Amsterdam...). I did the whole movie reviewer thing as well. Do I want to pick up with all that again?

I suppose the real question, the real essence of "where do we go from here" is really "what kind of writer do I want to be?"

Do I want to go back to being a reviewer? Lord knows I love letting the world know when something sucks almost as much as I love shouting from the rooftops the praise of everything I come across that I absolutely love (Black Panther, A Star is Born, and Anna and the Apocalypse were the three best movies of 2018, by the way. Fight me.) I might want to go back to that, but maybe not hold myself to it as stringently as I used to. I don't have to review every book I read, every show I watch, etc... I can stick to just the ones that inspire something in me enough to write about them. And I might want to get back into the movie reviewing thing; I enjoyed it when I was doing it for Film-Arcade before so it might be worth finding a way to take another stab at it, see if it leads so something that pays. I'm open to any leads on something like this, by the way. Just throwing that out there.

Or do I want to be less of a reviewer and more of a creator this time around. I need to write more. More fiction, especially. I have so many ideas and have wasted so much time. I could go back to my Biggs and Wedge series, as much as it's in need of serious retooling. Or I could revisit the dark Arthurian saga I started a few years ago. Or finally get started on the almost Lovecraftian idea I've had kicking around in my head for awhile now. Any sugesstions or preferences? I just need to find more time to write, and more time to read, as reading is the ingredient that fuels the motor of writing. And clearly I need to read a lot more, because that was a terrible analogy.

I could be more of a real life blogger, as well... just muse about my life, rant and rave about what's going on in the world, my experiences and opinions... and probably alienate 90% of the people I know! Especially if I start talking about work...

Or, the more likely option, all of the above. Like I said, I have no plan, which isn't easy for someone like me. I like plans and routines and agendas and all the other words you can think of. Seat of the pants is not my style. I'm clearly open to ideas (and collaborations, even). I'm just starting to reopen the gates of my creativity, so to speak, I guess I'll just sit and wait to see what pours out.

The Many Worlds Theory: Schrödinger's Blogger

The Many Worlds Theory. In a nutshell, it's just that... a theory that our universe is just one in a multiverse comprised of infinite differing universes, that every different outcome possible for a decision someone makes results in a different universe for each outcome. We only see the universe we live in as a result of those decisions, but not the alternate ones that spin out of the different possible choices. Sort of like Schrödinger's cat, who, unseen in a box, was both alive AND dead because the observer had no idea which was true. Or, for a more applicable example, Schrodinger's blogger; we live in a universe where I stopped blogging over three years ago and have tentatively restarted today... but there's a universe out there where I never stopped, and maybe I'm a famous blogger now, or movie reviewer, or whatever spun out of those choices.

There might even be a reality where Vincent Van Gogh didn't cut his own ear off and give it to a girl he loved (whch totally isn't what happened, by the way; he cut his ear off in a fit of rage and depression after finding out his friend Paul Gauguin was moving back to Paris, he only gave it to a girl they both knew so she could pass it on to Gauguin!), but instead he snapped and started cutting off other people's ears instead. Who knows what possibilites there are in the multiverse?

This is all a bit esoteric, I know, but I'm going to spin it back to reality, trust me. And I do mean OUR reality.

You see, there's a reality where a girl I had a thing for seven years ago felt the same as me, and life unfolded completely differently for us both. The same could be said about a girl I had a thing for eleven years ago. Or eighteen years ago. Or twenty. Holy hell, when did I get this old? Anyway, according to this theory, there are worlds out there where I'm currently with each of those women. But that's not the point, because I wouldn't trade my current reality for any of those. The reality I'm in now has me married to the best person I've ever known, and I wouldn't trade that for anything. This is the best possible reality.

There's also a reality where I wasn't able to talk Marisa into adopting George after someone talked her out of it. And in that reality, we obviously never went to Petco, saw Smitty, and decided to adopt him. In that reality, Marisa and I have a lot more money, money that went unspent on vet bills and cat food and litter and so many more vet bills. But that's not the point. In that reality, our lives are far emptier without our little furballs, and I wouldn't trade that for anything. This is the best possible reality.

And for a more recent divergence, there's a reality out there were I never got diagnosed with IBS. A world where this condition hasn't made life pretty damn difficult, hasn't caused panic attacks, hasn't seen me have to ignore opportunities to go places. There's a world where all the detrimental aspects of this condition haven't had a negative affect on my career at my current job, cost me opportunities, cost me some of my reputation, caused me even more stress that just makes the condition worse, and so on and so forth in a vicious circle. And right about now, the rule of threes has you expecting another "but that's not the point" sentence... except in this case, that is the point. Because this isn't the best possible reality. What I've realized in musing over my career and the chances I'm getting and not getting is that I'm actually living in the worst possible reality.

I've become someone who coasts, who goes to work and goes home and goes to sleep and wakes up and goes to work and wash, rinse, repeat, over and over, day in, day out, year after year. I haven't written much of anything since my last blog post over three years ago except for yet another half-assed attempt at NaNoWriMo in 2016. I barely even read anymore.

In short, I've been living in a reality where I don't dream anymore.

But in the Many Worlds Theory, where every choice creates a new reality, it's never too late to make changes. All you have to do is choose... and I'm choosing to change, to dream again, to remake my reality/ Working on this blog, changing the design a bit, actually writing this post I've had on my mind for a few weeks now is just the beginning. I'll be trying to write again, but not holding myself to the same rules and deadlines I used to; more free writing, more flowing that. In short, more shit that might not make sense to anyone but me. But that's okay, because one of my biggest mistakes was always blogging for the sake of being read, and not just writing for the sake of writing., which is what I'm dedicating myself to doing now. I might fail. If I do that's okay, because this blog isn't the dream, it's just a step in correcting reality. I've decided that if I'm going to dream, I'm going to dream much bigger than just a blog.

What IS the dream, you may ask?

I'll tell you when we wake up in a reality where my dream and my reality are one and the same.