by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner
Fuck. Here I am, totally out of commission for as many as four more weeks and all I can do is write, read and develop the four novels I’ve been working on. That last bit of the sentence is great. It’s just it comes a huge fucking cost. I hate that I’m indisposed for such a fucking dumb, freak reason.
If you want to know a general “truthful” description of how all of this happened, you’re going to have to wait for the second novel in my four novel series to come out. But, let’s talk about what I’ve learned from this clusterfuck.
I think this marks the end of the my youth. I have all the time in the world to contemplate my life for the next few weeks and get some sense of What Happens Next. I find myself throwing myself even more into these four novels and also beginning to think seriously of writing a screenplay or two. It seems that outlining a screenplay is a lot like outlining a novel — at least for me — and so I can leverage what I’ve learned from developing these four novels to working on screenplays.
And….this doesn’t even begin to address that I’m not fucking getting any younger. I need to accomplish something. I have so much “potential” as the late Annie Shapiro said…and I’ve still managed to do only squat since ROKon Magazine.
I guess the biggest thing breaking my ankle has taught me is a reinforcement of how fragile and short life is. Never let grief — for a fucking magazine of all things — sap you of your ambition.
Keep the faith.
