Screaming Planet

Where old bloggers come to die.

It is a Very Good Year

Posted on | October 22, 2011 | No Comments

[flickr]photo:6269838147[/flickr]

Two Januaries ago I decided that I’d do two things during the coming year.  Both were ambitious, especially for someone who has to work for a living, and particularly for someone as good at procrastinating as myself, and quite predictably, though in the end I did make a heroic (oh, how the silent “h” version of that phrase niggles at me) effort, I accomplished neither.

The will was there, and the gestures were done, I took a good, hard run at the hill and managed to get more than mid-way up one of them, and lay a solid foundation for the other one, but in the end it all sort of collapsed under the pressing need to make more money and to, well, honestly… goof off.

So, this last January, I made no plans whatsoever. I entered this year with zero expectations. I knew I would work hard, I knew I would travel here and there, and knew I’d inevitably goof off again, but decided that was OK. I do regret coming here to write merely thrice, but it was a busy summer. Bosnia to ski in, Brussels to hobnob in, Tuscany to drive around in, Norway to trek across, Rovinj to lounge in. And then two hard months of finger-and-eye-cracking work to buy the dream car.

All that done, the rains of October are drawing to a close, and I’m not much further in accomplishing my two things. But November is coming in for a hard landing, and I’m reading up on my research, exploring the west coast of Africa, just beneath its famous horn, looking up from the gravity well, towards geostationary orbits and Lagrange points.  I’ll be ready, when it comes.

And if I fail again? Well, so it goes. I’ve skied the mountains of Bosnia, hobnobbed around the EU offices in Brussels, drove around the forts and vineyards of Tuscany, trekked across the wilderness and cities of Norway, dove and bathed on the rocky beaches of Rovinj, laid down some beats,  translated some books, bought a midlife crisis car, and wrote the nub of a hardish SF novel. Not exactly a Sinatra year, but then again, I have no need of plurals, when I have the one girl.

So, a very damn good year, all in all. And far from over yet.