Yesterday, I was a gold-plated grump. However, some Doctor Who and a decent nap has helped me approach life with a case of que sera sera. There's no point in getting emotional about this shit because - it does nothing.
Unless I become an overnight, international celebrity that the billionaires fawn over, then there's absolutely nothing I can say or do that will change their minds. I'm just another pleb at their mercy. Another peasant struggling to exist in this diesel dystopia they've made.
What I can do is provide an oasis of beautiful things in this ugly world. That's where I'm going with my life. Make a future worth believing in, and maybe people will strive to get there. As I frequently write Lup saying to Taako, "We're not dead yet."
While I'm waiting for the solarpunk revolution, I can do the little I can. It's not much, but it'll make a difference to someone. Churn out some low-level good to combat the oozing evil, if you will.
Progress with Yes, Chef! is slow because of the daily TAZ fictions over on my Tumblr, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love the chance to exercise my noggin and take every single angst prompt and turn it into reassurance or at least hurt-comfort.
I have six of them, so my week's booked already. Fun.
I've almost hit 50K in B'Nar, so that means I've almost hit the quarter mark with my novel. This is a novel happening in the first blush of Humans being allowed into the Galactic Alliance, so the appearance of nigh-ascention humans is going to cause A Ruckus.
My heroes may have an easier time of courting the AI Alliance, but still won't be fully accepted because of those messy organic parts. The Ambassadorial squabbling is going to be fun when I get there. I might have to throw a Vorax attack in there. They're nastards, but... I dunno. I'll figure it out eventually.
This is me, figuring it out...