Writers Indigestion #1 - All paths lead to Rome

Art by Robert Hubert

When I initially decided to create a newsletter or blog, it was to share information about my projects, connect with the comic book community, and grow my following. It was a way for me to speak without having to deal with my social awkwardness. 

So my whole world fell apart.

While I was writing the first draft of Writers' Indigestion, it was a vomit draft of all the insecurities and struggles I was going through while working on Malice + Magic, part two. This would be my third full-length book, and I had only planned for it to be a one-shot. 

The original artist stepped away, which threw me into a panic because I had just pitched the project to a publisher. I was lucky enough to find another partner even though I couldn't offer a higher rate. From the very start, I was really proud of the work we were doing, and it finally felt like I was working with someone who thought about the project like I did. I was excited because the publisher I submitted to was a dream publisher I always wanted to work with, and accepted Malice + Magic and wanted all three parts. Everything seemed to be slowly coming together, and it made me a nervous wreck.

At the time, I was working as a writer for a website and as a state social worker. My main job was beginning to take a toll on me, with late payments, and my apartment had undergone new management, which was causing more issues for my mother, whom I was taking care of. Management continued to be aggressive. Looking back on it, I believe they were trying to force certain tenants out. Things got bad, and I decided to look for a new place for my mom and me. When I finally found a place, I had to quit my main job because I wasn't getting paid on time, which hindered the transition process and production of Malice 2. However, I was still managing to make do.

I was under so much stress that my hair was falling out, which stressed me out even more—trying to get all our affairs in order, choosing between a moving company I couldn't afford or packing up everything myself, and searching for a new job.

 On top of that, my mother suffered from health issues that she wasn't taking seriously, and I was struggling to figure out how to help her. For weeks I slept like crap and tried to hold everything together. I took my first breath when I found a place that had just begun accepting tenants, and it wasn't too far from where we lived. My mom was worried about moving again, but was excited when she saw the place. The place was ready fast. My mom and I would be in before the snow hit. My taxes looked good so that I would have some extra income from my projects, and the tests my mom needed finally went through, and she was going to be able to get treatment. 

I finally decided to get some rest and sleep like a normal human being. And when I woke up, my mom had passed away.

My momma.

Not to be dramatic, but my biggest fear was finding my mom dead.  My mom was the single most important person in my life. My best friend. The only person in the world I trusted with everything and who trusted me with everything. I have been taking care of her since I was 14. And when she needed me, after a lifetime of being an insomniac, I was asleep. I'll never forgive myself for that.

Long story short, I lost my mom, my mind, my job, and ended up homeless. Now I'm staying in a friend's basement, trying to find a single reason to wake up every day after losing the only thing I wanted to wake up for. I know she'd be disappointed in me saying that, but being here without her just doesn't cut it. I don't want to be here anymore.

Because she always worried, I always told my mom that as long as I could walk out of my room and see her, I would be OK.  And now I'll never see her again. Fighting for dominance in my head over my grief is my guilt. Of how she would want me to keep writing, keep creating, keep living. My mom was my biggest fan. She is everything I am, good and bad. I just wanted to show her some good things in life before she went, and I took too long. Now, nothing is worth it.  

While I didn't mean to turn this into a soapbox, this is where and what I've been up to. I miss creating so much, but I miss my mother more than I want to breathe. For everyone else she passed away six month ago but every morning I wake up and its the day after. I can barely pull myself together enough to work, let alone work on something important to me.

I'm tired of being afraid all the time. I've decided not to stay. I doubt they'll kick up any fuss.

So that's what has been going on. I'm sorry to that one Malice fan that immerges a few decades from now but everything in my life is on hold and at risk of being let go.

In case I don't see you tomorrow, 

Good afternoon, good evening, and good night.