Homesick

I was riding alongside Lenora, who was driving, looking at the mountains in front of me, feeling the cool breeze, smelling the oncoming of spring...  And then I had the onset of pangs of homesickness come over me.  

I get homesick a few times a month, it seems like.  I understand that we chose to move here, but Tucson, for all of its barren beauty, is not in my blood.  It's not where I grew up.  I miss the green, I miss the true cold, I miss the wet.  I miss the variation of houses, the variations of people.  I miss the melting pot that is Long Island.

True, I haven't lived there in years, but at least in Virginia, there was greenery and temperature variations.  Maybe not much of a variation of people, but there were all kinds of nooks and crannies to explore.  It wasn't home, but it was close.  

I miss the snow.

I remember driving back up to the base one night.  I was young and tireless at the time, and the trip was only about two hours or so--most of it was getting off of Long Island.  I was down there for the weekend, and it was snowing.  I don't recall the weekend, I don't know which car I was driving, but I rememember being by myself on the road once I started going into the mountains.  Like I said, it was snowing, and the evergreens were thick with it.  My headlights cut the night, and the shadows in the trees were greenish black.  Greenish black, with white highlights because of the snow, and all I wanted to do was to pull over and stare for a while.  That's all.

It was the first time I'd ever truly ached over the beauty of nature.  

There was another time, after I had gotten out of the Marine Corps and after my first wife and I had split, I was walking along with my girlfriend at the time.  Her name was Wendy, and she was a few years older than me.  At least 35 at the time.  One of my mother's friends.  I was about 28 or so.  Anyway, it was winter, and we were walking along, just taking a stroll.  It was starting to warm up, and the snow was melting.  There was some ice along the curb, and water was running beneath it and to the side, doing some erosion of it as it travelled to a nearby drain.  It struck me as very pretty, approaching beauty, just with the look of the gray day and the snow and the ice and the running water.  As we walked, I just quieted down and watched it, lost.  Wendy asked what was wrong, and I told her what I saw.  She saw it too, but had taken it for granted.  She then looked at me again and called me special.  Not many people would see it the way I had.  

I've never thought of myself as special.  Lenora calls me special all the time, and I don't feel it.  I guess no one ever truly feels special.  Not by themselves.  They may know their self-worth, but it takes two to feel special.  It's like being able to tie a knot in a cherry stem with your tongue.  Some can, most can't.  Do you feel special because you can?  What if someone tells you you're special because you can?  Same thing.  

I write, and I notice things.  I think I notice things because I write, and I write because I notice things.  I think they go hand in hand.  I don't feel special because of either "ability."  I can't draw, and I think those that can do it well are amazing.  

So that's me being homesick.

Writing...  You know, I'm kinda proud of myself.  Only a little, mind you.  I'm seven months into writing Bolts & Nuts, without having missed a week yet.  I could have taken a break over the holidays, I could have taken one for my birthday, I could take a week off due to a well deserved vacation--but I haven't.  I think that says something.  Week in and week out for seven months.  I'd call that a minor accomplishment.

Work on Group is coming along nicely, as well.  Sara and I have decided upon a colorist, so we've added that to the mix.  It knocks down my "ready for publication" pages down to three, but we'll be getting there soon enough.  Three weeks worth of material is golden.  I just need to fix a few things before I letter them up.

I've recently come to the decision to do the lettering myself.  It does take some imagination on my end, some working out of certain things, but I think it's worth it.  It gives me more control over my words.  Not that I'm a control freak or anything.  I think I'm less controlling about my words than a lot of writers out there.  That may come from an understanding that every writer needs an editor.  Being an effective self-editor is difficult, but I'm trusting my storytelling instincts to guide me, and then shore up some of the other things later.  Sara is doing an incredible job with the script, and we're coming up to a really powerful sequence soon.  I'm anxious to see what she does with those pages.  I also have to send her some more money for supplies soon.  

I've also recently decided to do a radio show type of podcast out of one of my stories.  I just wonder how time intensive it's going to be.  Knowing me and my standards, probably decently time intensive.  I'm something of a perfectionist, and I know that's going to come into play when it comes to producing this thing.  Not only do I have to write it, I have to find actors for it, rehearse, record, and then add sound effects and music.  Outside of the actual writing of it, I hope I can get to a point where the rest is done in about three hours or less.  One can dream, right?

I think that's really about it.  Work is going well.  Being off probation and actually having the job is a great weight off my shoulders.  If I could sleep for more than four hours at a time on this shift, I'd be good to go.  The summer bid should be a lot better, though.  Instead of going in at midnight, I'll be going in at ten pm.  I think that'll be a lot better.  Since I'll have to be there by ten, I have to leave the house by 9:35, which means I have to get up no later than 9, but will probably get up by 8:30 or so.  This means I'll have to be asleep by 2 if I want to get about six hours of sleep.  Getting off at 8 and going to bed by 2 gives me six hours of doing whatever needs to get done, and if Lenora is still working nights, I get to spend some time with her in the morning before she has to go in, also.    I'm not seeing a downside here.

It also gives me a more of a slow time at work, so I can get more work done while there.  That's where I'll be doing the bulk of my lettering and plotting, as well as the column writing and editing.  I'll save the comic writing for home, where I can work on it undisturbed.

I finally have letters for the big project I keep talking about!  I'm excited about it, actually.  I have the letters in, they've already been colored, and there's something of a promo piece.  That just needs a logo of some sort, and then it should be off to the races!  The next month should be VERY exciting, depending on the timeframe with which these things move.

I think that's it for now.  Go watch The Thing From Another World.  You'll be glad you did.

-Steven