The world of grown-ups tells us that we are part of a greater team, working towards a mutually beneficial goal. This argument has a lot going of it, namely that at some point, we will be rewarded for our efforts. That despite any current hardships, someone, somewhere, has our best interests at heart.
Why, then, does the red pill exist? What societal benefit comes from people who don’t want to belong? Who refuse to do what is expected of them, choosing possible failure and ruin over implied comfort?
This seems like a downer way to open a post about books, but it’s been on my mind a lot lately. As an author, I regularly must assess what I’m doing with my life. I’m in the struggling artist phase of my eventual media empire, and struggle is the operative word. We’re still climbing out from under the boxes from our recent move, making fairly hard choices about what to keep, what to ditch, and what to pay every month to store the rest. We won’t live here forever, but it’s a fine place to get back on our feet. A year or two here won’t break us, and it’s enough for now to fulfill most of our needs hierarchy.
Mostly. I just took a temp contract that will keep us in lights and phones and cable television through the end of the year. It will help pay off the debt that crept back into my life during this latest period of unemployment, and will even let us get a little bit ahead.
But it’s not enough.
I want more. I want a lot more.
I want the time to do it in, and the will to do see it through. I’ve made it this far with the love and support of my tribe, but I’m not advanced enough to be completely free of ego. When I see books that aren’t on the same level as mine succeeding while my own languish, my default response (as with many things) is anger. It’s a brief flare, but enough to make me angry that I’m angry.
Then the rational part of my brain–the one that keeps me sane enough to write those books in the first place–kicks in, and the answer booms in mighty tones inside my head.
Those books do better because their authors want it more than I do. I’ve somehow grown content in the land of the blue pill, forgetting the rush and settling for less than I should. And considering that I don’t really have a lot, that’s telling me I need to pop a handful of red pills and never look back.
I had a number of goals coming into this year. I was going to launch myself as a freelance project manager. I was going to sell some books. I was going to write some more, and keep writing them. There was going to be pod-casting, and interviewing, and all sorts of awesome.
Homefront is finished, again, although this time it’s really locked in. I’ve seen a full cover with words on it and everything
And while Sekrit Project No. 1 has more or less stalled out, I do have news to share about Seasons of Truth. But rather than write another two thousand words, check out these amazing new covers by Roberto Calas
The Editing McKennas and I are nearly finished with Summer, and Fall is not long behind. I’m looking to release the next volume on September 16, in all the usual places. I’d like to conclude project the following month (TBD), and to get there I’m going to need your help.
If you’re an indie-book lover like I am, you know that titles live or die based on word-of-mouth. The reviews that have come in for Seasons of Truth so far are very positive, but I–we–need more to make this project a success. So if you haven’t picked up your copy (or copies, I’m not proud) from Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, iTunes, or Smashwords,
And if you have, buying a couple extra to give as gifts wouldn’t go unappreciated.
Thanks for reading along this far, and for your support of my scribblings. I wouldn’t be here without you.