Pornic, Guérande, Le Croisic


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Is this thing still on?

 Yes, it's that time of the decade again. A post on my personal blog! Let's see, where were we? What do you want to know? I'm still in France taking care of my 95-year-old grandmother, although she's now 97 so I guess I've been here two years now! I'm still dabbling with a bit of an online business while I try to figure out what I really want to do in life. Write, obviously. Play games, obviously. Help others, obviously. What isn't obvious is how to make money doing any of that. While I don't care about money, and I'm financially stable right now thanks to the old grandma keeping me fed while I'm keeping her company, but the long-ingrained idea that I should be out there hustling and bringing in the phat bucks still niggles at me. To be fair, it's not the money. It's the being useful to others that I'm craving. I'm not looking for work, per se. I'm looking to be of service. I'm still hell-bent on never working in an aircon...
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Here we are again

The wisdom of the wider writing community is this: to be a writer, one has to write. It's true. You need to write something, anything every day. It's the only way to get into a routine, to make it a habit. It's the only way to practise your craft. You have to do it every day, and you'll get better at it every day. But what of days like today? You have a couple of writing projects with a few hundred or a few thousand words written but you just can't face adding a chapter to any of them. The previous chapter you wrote on one of them took the story so far away from your outline that you're struggling to figure out how to continue the story. The tangent is good enough that you don't want to scrap it and take another pass at the chapter in the hope it plays nice and sticks to the plot, but perhaps that's what needs to happen. It might double the length of the story to try and get it back on track and it's supposed to be a fucking short novel to begin wi...
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Shit I just wrote down

With a pen and paper. Like I'm rocking the goddamned middle ages. So, I'm home sick. It happens a lot now. Hayfever gives me sinus problems. Sinus problems give me headaches. Headaches plus general depression mean I stay home and take sick leave (not that I should, I still get shit loads of work done. Plenty of my coworkers "work from home" rather than take sick leave, but I'm too ethical for that - sigh, that's a rant for another time). But, really what happens is I start think about the future and what my goals are and yet another midlife crisis is formed. It's not an original first world problem, but I really hate the 9-5 grind. I would much rather work for myself or at least less. Of course, I have a mortgage to pay, so it's never as easy as all the self help, "go do what you love" articles that show up daily on Medium seem to make out. (and to add to the "rant later" list, you only ever read the articles from the people w...
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