Stepping Out
It's a pretty nice desk.
Leaving my regular day job has been something I've been simultaneously looking forward to and dreading. Looking forward to, because the environment at the day job could be rather tense. Looking forward to because the kind of work that I was doing there, while challenging and rewarding, wasn't what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. And I'm not getting any younger.
Dreading because it meant giving up an illusion of security (not the reality of security, of course, but at least a semblance of security). Dreading it because the future is uncertain, always in motion, changing. I've described the feeling as being like you're about to step out of a boat, trusting that you'll be able to walk on water. (see Matt 14:28-31)
The whole month I've been alternating between states of calm acceptance and mind-blowing panic. But there have been signs along the way that everything is, indeed, going to be all right. Some interesting things are opening up. Also, in my last month at the day job, they started selling off old furniture, and I saw the desk pictured here, and thought to myself "Oh hey, it's my desk." "Wait, what?" It's in the garage now. I need to get some things rearranged before I can bring it into the house, which will take a few days.
So, here's the plan. More writing. Period. At least one short story a week. I'm going to be following the model Dean Wesley Smith & Kristine Katherine Rusch use for their short stories. A short story will appear here within seven days (I'm working now on a follow up to my Mad Poet Files story – A Premonition / The Cost of Miracles). It will be free to read here on the site. It will appear in podcast form. And within a week after that, a new story will appear on the site. When that happens, the first story gets taken down, and made available to purchase on Kindle, B&N, iBook, and any place else I can throw it. This is a little scary for me. I have a history of announcing these kinds of things and totally flaking out. So, stay tuned for either what this was always meant to be – A One Man Short Story Fiction Fixation of Podcasting Practice and Questionable Quality, or a spectacular failure marked mostly by silence.
I need an accountability partner. Any volunteers?
