the scent of 2019 is in the air

There are a number of things on my 2019 list. Priorities, projects.

The first project: a daily writing journal. I’ve already been writing a page a day in my “daily activities” agenda (next year will be the fifth year I’ve been doing this), so the daily writing journal will be natural and smooth, a non-stressful, non-draining, steady way of working on various writing projects.

I got this journal yesterday at the local dollar store.

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I’ll be sharing much of what this journal will contain with my Patreon members. Which brings me to the 2019 list: Patreon will be one of my main priorities. I update this website blog around once or twice a month, but I write Patreon posts much more often. In 2019, Patreon topics will include my books (obviously), living with PTSD, genderqueerness, creativity, introversion and solitude, the 70s, self-care and self-respect, toys, music, Mozart, violin playing, the art of indulging oneself, living one’s best life… just to name a few.

Apart from cannabis (see “living with PTSD” above), Patreon is one of the top things that have had a beneficial impact on my existence this year. The material/emotional support I get from members who believe in my work and enjoy it, their enthusiasm, contributions, participation, and encouragement—it’s all absolutely priceless to me on many levels.

I have a limited amount of time and energy. Patreon members will enjoy the bulk of my creative efforts and endeavors. A number of my upcoming books (such as Reveries of an Improper Solitudinarian) will only be available to members.

I’ll continue using Twitter to share links to website updates, Patreon posts, and the very occasional tweet and RT. I’m more present on Instagram (although it’s now, alas, owned by the loathsome FB, Instagram was wisely left alone—so far, anyway—which is one of the reasons I still use IG).

Facebunk: my opinion of it remains the same. Dreadful platform. I want nothing to do with it. I won’t bow to it. I’m proud to live my life without it. Oh, and apparently said platform, which is terribly shocked by naughty bits, now also targets “vague suggestive statements” and the mere hint of sexy talk as against its policies or whatever.

“First Tumblr bans NSFW imagery, now Facebook bans NSFW *words*!!” tweeted one user on Wednesday.

Imagine if something like this had happened on Livejournal during its heydays. The furor! Won’t somebody think of the fanfic?? I remember people leaving LJ in protest against less blatant puritan pearl-clutching and “investor-friendly” sanitization/normalization. Now, FB devotees simply swallow the pill and comply.

The “normal” Sunday School nanny Internet: what smashing fun it is. But at least you can keep up with distant relatives you haven’t seen in thirty years, and that kid from Elmsdale Elementary (what’s his name again?), and the intelligence-challenged prom queen who harassed you back at good ol’ Suckballs High. And advertisers know everything about you: convenient! Thank you, O Almighty Facebunk. Peuple, à genoux, attends ta délivraaaaance

Seriously, I have lost touch with friends because I’m not on FB, and more people might know about my work if I were there… but I’m willing to pay the price not to be on that platform. Because I think FB is terrible.

Anyhow.

Rascal: A Manifesto is the foundation of all my upcoming books. No other work of mine means more to me than that one. I’m grateful to everyone who has acquired a copy, read it, shared their impressions of it, recommended it.

Rascal with a new, rapscallion like-minded friend:

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Speaking of naughty things and fabulous books, here’s a lovely tome devilish types will want to add to their library immediately:

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Fred is one of the most delightful fellows you could meet. Buy his book here: Homo Satanis

In other news, tomorrow will be five months since I had the monthly crud. Yep, the whole fertility garbage I never had any use for is well on the way out.

I’m still enjoying my 70s Holiday Extravaganza in a fierce, fierce way. I got a Barbie Townhouse (damn you, Barbie!). It’s wrapped and under the tree: a glorious sight if there ever was one. I will be playing with it.

ETA: well, apparently something might actually be taking place after all these months re: reproductive crud. No wonder I’ve been feeling so lousy and drained these past couple of weeks (it wasn’t only because I had to have my damn right ear irrigated at the clinic again). We’ll see tomorrow but even if there is something, if it’s anything like last time it won’t be much…

And on that charming note, I think it’s time to call it a night a get some rest.

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new project

Welcome to the fondue party, everyone.

So, it’s almost the end of August. Which is great. I’m really looking forward to autumn… Spring and summer this year: exhausting as fuck, mostly because of the loony weather. It’s nice and cool today, and this feels fantastic.

Hit the Road: I’m not anywhere near having finished this book, BUT I will have a new book out soon.

I’ve begun a new project, and I’m quite excited about it.

It involves a series of short books, 36 pages in length, one per month. It’s like a kind of literary magazine or something.

Here’s the blurb:

Logospilgrim, prolific writer and disco tomboy, has embarked upon a series of short books that will be released on a monthly basis. She shares candid, maverick thoughts about the small joys of life, being who you are, personal freedom, and much more in her unique, unapologetic stay home vagabond poet style. These books are the written equivalent of instant photographs. Join her on the road to nowhere and everywhere.

And here’s the cover of the first issue, titled The Corner Store Epiphany:

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I went for a simple, 70s-inspired look. I’m thinking that the front cover colors, and the back cover photograph, will change each year. Haha, I’m already hopeful this project will endure for years… I think it just might, though. This is the first time I’ve written exactly what I wanted to write, and it felt wonderful working on this short book. I’m already looking forward to the next one. Same cover, different title.

The August 2017 issue is available on lulu, and will be available on Amazon as well in a few weeks. It’s only available in print form, in keeping with the spirit of this series.

Allow me to reiterate how good I feel about this project. As usual, I’m unsure whether it’s crap or not, but whatever. Doing it anyway. Doing it my way.

My writing in a nutshell:

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I’m still pretty worn out re: this whole year. Fortunately, I’m much, much better at taking care of myself.

My record collection keeps expanding. I’ve got Heaven 17 on the way, more disco, more New Wave. Vinyl rules so hard. Every time I go to one of the local record stores, there’s more vinyl, new and old. This thrills me to no end.

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Digital can be useful, but it can’t be everything. I think the hawkers of digital (“enjoy your convenient nothing”) are realizing it can’t be everything. For the most part, digital can blow me, to be perfectly blunt.

I’ve rediscovered the absolute joy of portable radios. That wondrous “tinny” sound transports me right back to days when songs like Born to Be Alive were new. Last night, I was working on something or other, and Funkytown came on a fave local station: my heart skipped a beat. Streaming simply does not compare.

My small Sony AM FM portable radio will be joined by a Panasonic AM FM radio (that I’ll be able to plug in), and a pocket Philips AM FM radio that’ll go in my Fjallraven backpack.

Bags are happiness.

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And check out these sweet vintage Snoopy plates… Snoopy is everything.

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I am still working on a photocopied zine too. Thinking it might be a bi-monthly or quarterly thing, because they take more time to produce…

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Which reminds of another recent old love: instant photography. My Instax 9 fills me with pure ecstasy. Every time a small semi-fuzzy photograph emerges from the top of the camera, I want to do a little dance.

Here’s a photo I took the other day. 80s tomboy, baby.

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Speaking of the 80s, I can’t wait to get my hands on this thing of beauty:

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Gaston forever. Agendas are my happy place.

So, all in all, everything’s good. I’m creating, resting, taking a fatigue/stress tonic, enjoying my life and my home. Not putting up with bullshit. Doing what I need to do to live with PTSD: setting limits, reinforcing my barriers, giving priority to all that is helpful to me, gives me relief, and allows me to cope with life in general. I’m more and more aware of what I want and don’t want, what’s good for me and what harms me. I know that when I’m confronted with situations that are even remotely similar to original traumas, the “off” switch to sky-high stress reactions just doesn’t work. You could even say that it’s not there; it doesn’t exist. I calm myself by avoiding such situations as much as possible, by going into hyper-arousal mode when they occur (“bug out bag” syndrome), and by requiring extensive periods of recovery afterwards. That’s how it is.

Sometimes, by going numb. This does still happen, though it’s not as severe as when I was a teenager.

Oh, and by writing. Especially by writing. As a friend recently put it, self-expression is self-preservation.

I’ve been giving myself permission to say “no” to shit that is particularly damaging to me.

As a result, I feel good. I can function. I can be happy.

I am finally living life on my own terms.

Say cheese.

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