It’s difficult to know quite how to greet 2020, on the one hand I had a great 2019 which makes me excited for the new decade, on the other the human race seems to be committing mass suicide, which makes me anxious. Australia is burning; it feels like fascism has gripped the world like a gigantic leach; the UK is self aborting. It almost feels selfish and self indulgent to keep on trying to write my ridiculous stories. But what else can I do?
Bugger, this was meant to be a cheery Happy New Year post, and I do wish happiness on all of us. Maybe self-indulging in creative activity is the best way to centre one’s self and, therefore, not fall apart. Maybe not falling apart is about as much as one can do at the moment. Maybe writing stories, which is really a form of problem solving, is the way I’ll get to be of some use in the future. Who knows? But as it’s the method by which I work things out it’s probably my best hope.
Do you have any plans for this new decade?