Gentle NaNoWriMo Tips for 2020

It's that time of year again. Well, it's a lot of different times of year at once — but in particular, it is NaNoWriMo time. I've participated (and completed the requisite 50,000 word manuscript) twice, and know plenty of others who've participated to varying degrees. It's encouraging, it increases the amount of written word there is in the world, and (unlike some creative challenges out there) they're connected to charities rather than plagiarism and lawsuits. Not naming names, but we all know.

I'm not participating this year, but I'm seeing a lot of people in my various online communities who are. And a few who want to, but have opted out for one reason or another. It's a big commitment, and it can be as frustrating as it is rewarding.

For those considering it, here's what I've picked up in the past, and what I've learned from writing books throughout the year.

It's more about the discipline than the result.

I've had friends who opted out of NaNo because they couldn't finish it. Or who felt defeated because they "lost" — i.e., they didn't finish 50,000 words in the allotted time. I can understand why that would be discouraging. The whole point of the exercise is that anyone can get that many words on paper with a little effort per day.

But life is weird. Sometimes work gets in the way. Sometimes you oversleep. Sometimes your gallbladder needs to come out, like, now. Some days you aren't feeling it, and you're not a writer by trade where "not feeling it" could result in no paycheck.

The thing I think NaNo themselves get wrong about their own exercise is that the true value isn't in the completion. I mean, yeah, the "win state" is good. But even if you only make it a few days, you learn something. Someone who's never written x number of words every day before is going to have the same problem that someone who's never exercised before would have with doing a half hour of aerobics every day. It's untrained muscles. Some people might hash it, but it's not a surprise that people don't finish.

To that end, if you do participate and are new, it's more valuable to treat it as self discovery. How many words do you feel good writing per day before you burn out? What time(s) of day work for you? What do you find gets in the way? Do you find you don't like writing things that are tends of thousands of words long? All of these things are valuable, and all can lead to progress on your next writing project, should you aim for it.

The Shovel is valid, but it doesn't have to stay.

Amongst NaNo's writer's block tips is a meme called the Traveling Shovel of Death. Basically the idea is: if you find yourself completely stuck, kill someone with a shovel. It can be a main character, minor character, rando, whatever. It can be on-screen or off-screen. Just have someone be killed with a shovel. It's a twist on tried-and-true writing advice with a little more heft and a much weirder visual.

It's weird but I'm here to tell you it works.

Why? Because you've shaken things up. You've introduced, in one move, a whole package of imponderables that now have to be dealt with. Who died? What happens without them? Who did it? Will someone else get blamed for it? Has the Shovel murder alerted authorities to actions in your story that should remain hidden?

When I used it (in an unpublished work), I killed off a background character who wasn't coming back anyway. In later edits, I've removed the Shovel, but kept the sudden death. I was able in retrospect to see what elements it introduced that served the story and which overcomplicated it. And it was nice to have that grab bag of effects to play with.

Will it serve every story? It might not. If you're writing a children's book, I'd advise against it (or find a gentler way to introduce chaos). But in general, it's done a surprising amount of good.

Forget "planning" vs. "pantsing." Your story will change.

"Planners" and "pantsers" (and a third in-between hybrid) are different categories of writers when it comes to how a story evolves. "Planners" are, as you'd expect, the ones who carefully plan and organize every action. They know the beginning, the end, and everything in the middle. "Pantsers" fly by the seat of their pants, letting the story organically and seeing where it takes them.

The fact of the matter is, you will be both at some point, and that's okay.

If you intend to pursue a career in writing, you will be required to turn in pitches describing the full intended course of your story. So there is some merit, even if you're not a planner by trade, to be able to be one. Just because it'll come up. On the other hand, even the most tightly-planned story will start to go its own direction as it evolves. And that's fine and good. It's better to let these organic things happen if they're going to improve the story, and provided you're not working in an environment where going off the rails without approval would cause significant issues.

If it's overly stressing you, try another challenge instead.

There's a difficulty curve to be expected in all things. If you've never written this much before (and also if you have, let's be real), you can expect some stress. But if you find you're unhappy with yourself while trying to find time, or disappointed with your progress, or anything else that makes it a slog rather than an experience — don't do it.

The point of NaNoWriMo is to show you what you can do, not make you feel like you can't do things. And if participating has the opposite effect on you consistently, it may be a sign that you should search out other methods or challenges for getting your writing game up. That doesn't mean you're a failure. It just means you currently need something different to inspire you.

April and July offer Camp NaNoWriMo, which is more flexible in terms of what you track. Rather than word count, you can track pages written, time spent writing, or editing progress for a finished manuscript. In other words, you're not looking to finish a project (though you can totally do that) so much as set daily goals that may or may not add up to a whole.

There's also the 750 Words Challenge, which asks you to write three pages a day, privately, on whatever you want. Or there's A Round of Words in 80 Days, taking place four times a year and inviting you to set whatever writing goal you want.

Yes, NaNo is objectively the most popular and talked about, and will by default have a larger community. But it is admittedly not one size fits all, and it's totally okay to look elsewhere for a different challenge. As you can see, others have also felt the need.

Best of luck to everyone participating. Remember, even if you don't clock in at 50k by November 30, you've still done something, and that's what matters.

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SINoALICE Is Too Relatable for Writers

I can't play gacha games because I have no impulse control. I've played (and loved) Fate/Grand Order, Love Live!, and Love Nikki, but damned if all of them didn't make grabs at my wallet. And while I absolutely believe creators deserve money for their work — talk to me for five seconds and you will know how I am about this — I also know that a freelancer like me has no business being tempted to spend real human dollars on a 0.002% chance at getting a JPG.

I scrubbed every damn game from my phone because they're time sinks and money sinks. I have upwards of seven writing deadlines on my plate, not counting daily anime news. I get addicted easily. I don't need 'em.

Then SINoALICE went global and look I can explain.

So yes, this is a gacha game. It hails from the mind of Yoko Taro, the masked madman who brought us the Drakengard and NieR games and holds equal standing for Industry's Biggest Troll alongside Bkub Okawa. This is a dude who can look a production company in the eye and say "I am going to set myself on fire and yeet myself into hell and I'm taking you down with me," and they'll respond, "Thank you, sensei, the check is in the mail." I can't not love Yoko Taro.

It's Dark And Edgy Fairy Tale Stuff. And I know theoretically we should've gotten that out of our system with the Dark And Edgy Fairy Tale Boom of the 2010s, but I sure didn't. Neither did you. Especially not if it's got Alice in Wonderland, and especially not if she's got a sword as big as she is. Snow White's there. Cinderella's there. Hansel and Gretel is there, one of them is just a rotting head in a cage, and I'm not telling you which one.

Also, the whole point of the game is that these characters are in a massive battle royale to resurrect their respective authors. And honestly, this was the tipping point because I can't look away from that — especially when you start finding out why each one of them has this motivation.

Character vs. Author is, I'll be honest, a tricky field. I've seen it done beautifully. I've seen it done basically okay. More often than not lately, I see it done cringe-level bad. It's a valid and interesting thing to explore, because — as writers know — we don't always feel the most in control. And telling a compelling story means putting our darlings through the wringer.

The whole concept of characters as other people occupying space in our brains feels true when you're in the midst of a project. You have to learn to talk, think, and act like a person who doesn't exist so you can write them well. And so eventually, your thoughts get ahead of you and "they act on their own," because you have achieved your goal. Sometimes that means your carefully crafted story outline goes in the shredder. Okay, it means that a lot.

Exploring this phenomenon is challenging to do without coming over a bit up yourself, but the rare ones who do are pretty damn relatable.

Anyway, I was talking about SINoALICE.

Our storybook characters — Alice, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, and so on — are fighting each other for the privilege of resurrecting their respective author(s). Each has a reason. Cinderella wants a new story penned where she's a powerful queen. The Little Mermaid wants Hans Christian Andersen to write her an even more painful story than the one she already has. Alice simply wants Lewis Carroll to be alive again, even if she never actually sees him.

And then there's Red Riding Hood, who wants her story to go on longer so she can just kill people forever... including the author, maybe? Dorothy (who will be coming to the global server eventually but is well active in Japan) apparently wants to resurrect L. Frank Baum so she can put his brain in a jar. As you do.

Considering the number of characters I've abandoned, put though the wringer, and occasionally outright killed, there's something unpleasantly relatable about a game full of characters turning into murderhobos just for a chance to shake their writers down.

The game does have its issues as regards UI, playability, and usage of its characters. It ends up being more about the weapons than the characters themselves, and you can't use your stable of kickass-looking protagonists to actually build a team — you're one of a group, with the others either being the CPU or other players currently online. The upside of that is I am less tempted to put real money down for gacha. All the characters are beautifully designed, so my main becomes whichever character I think is prettiest, rather than absolutely needing a certain one. And considering you can gather a fair variety of characters just by playing the main story, even those of us most curséd in the eyes of the RNG gods can get some variety.

I won't lie, though. There's something about the "personal attack" of SINoALICE that keeps me coming back, along with the promise of a story that goes completely off the rails reality-wise. And I can't help wondering to myself which of my characters would venture into the Library and fight everyone else off just for a chance at taking a swing at me.

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The Freelance Ghosting Conundrum

When we think of "ghosting," we tend to think of relationships: everything is going just fine and then bam, they're gone, full disappearance with no notice. There's no explanation, no closure, no way of finding out why it happened or if there was anything you could have done. (It's also a completely different situation from escaping an abusive relationship, which is important to state up front for reasons that will become obvious.)

But, as with many things, an issue evident in relationships can exist — in equally painful ways — in different parts of your life. And if you're a freelancer, you'll know that the pain and confusion of ghosting isn't just the stuff of dating apps. It can take a very real bite out of your professional life... and, in some cases, your paycheck.

As an aside — this isn't a call-out post. I'm fortunate to have several good clients at the moment, all of whom are fantastic at communicating in all sorts of situations. But with the job market as rocky as it is right now and more people eyeing the freelance life, it feels like the time to address some of the rougher bits of the lifestyle so you can all be prepared.

Job by Job

As a freelancer, you'll probably spend a lot of your time as a contractor — that is, instead of being hourly or salaried, you'll be brought in job by job. In the lines of work I'm in, that has meant everything from editing one show's worth of subtitles to working on a feature-by-feature basis. Basically it means your job begins at the beginning of the project in question, and ends when you get the money for it.

Ideally, you build up a decent relationship with a company, and they continue to send more work your way. You're still paid by the project, but you've been on-boarded and there's a sort of unspoken understanding that you're "in the stable," as it were. That as long as you continue to deliver good work, they will continue to turn to you for more and more projects.

Sometimes that continues up to an amicable parting of ways. Sometimes it leads to elevation within the company. And then sometimes you just... stop hearing from them. One day it all goes silent. You check in, and your emails seem to go into the ether. Other people are clearly getting contacted regularly, so you know there's nothing wrong at the home office.

Eventually, it becomes clear: you've been dropped. And, worst of all, there was nothing but unspoken etiquette preventing this from happening. Legally, your client has done nothing wrong. And that's the most uncomfortable part of it.

The Exit Interview

If you take pride in your work, getting ghosted by a client can hurt. Even if the client would prefer to part ways with you, it can be helpful to know why. Are they no longer using contractors? Does the client feel you were a bad fit? Did something specific happen that, were you made aware of it, you'd be willing and able to correct? Was it some sort of inter-office politics you'll never be privy to?

At times like these, it's common to jump to conclusions, and which conclusion you jump to depends on you. In my case, I have a habit of assuming it's entirely my fault. Others may assume they've done nothing and, in every case, it is the client treating them unfairly. Others still will just sort of drift and not know what to do.

The thing is, any of these situations is equally possible. Maybe you did make a mistake. Maybe you and your client had clashing personalities that weren't conducive to working together. Maybe it wasn't anything to do with you — or maybe it was. And that's not to cause anxiety, so much as to say that every situation is different. If you are successfully working with several other happy clients and one gives you the cold shoulder, for instance, it's unlikely that you are just a bad or hard to work with person in general. If this happens to you regularly, on the other hand, that might be another story.

Only one thing holds true in these situations: whatever the reason, ghosting is borne of a fear of confrontation. And that's a thing a lot of us have to some degree. You can be right or wrong, speaking for yourself or someone else, speaking to someone you like or dislike, and have that fear.

So What Do?

Know that this can happen, and there's not a lot you can do about it. As long as everything in writing has been fulfilled, that's basically it. You can have had a strong working relationship, done good work, have had verbal promises made concerning future work — but none of that is legally binding. No matter how annoying it is. Just because something's not illegal doesn't make it fair or fun or nice, but it does curtail your thought process on what to do next.

Don't put all your eggs in one basket. You will get ghosted by clients; it's a fact. Ideally it won't be a regular occurrence, but the likelihood of you having at least one client who avoids conflict and has to break off the working relationship is high. This is one of the many reasons you diversify: if your best and most eager client just disappears one day, you won't be up a creek.

Avoid assumptions. Let's be real. If you know, you know. If you realize you've been cut loose and in your gut you know exactly why, there it is. Otherwise, there's only so much good that assumptions can do you. They won't offer closure, for a start. They're more likely to either lead to anxiety and self-hatred, or leave you with a grudge. Neither of which is good.

If it helps, do a personal audit. Are you worried that you're difficult to work with, or aren't at your best? It's fair to sit down and have a think about that. Grab your journal and make some notes on how you deal with stress, how you've been about deadlines, how you speak up for yourself, how you treat others, etc. Don't berate yourself; be honest. At best, you'll find you're doing all right; at worst, you can begin to find what issues need addressing as you go into new jobs. (Also note that self-respect isn't an "issue" — the ability to look after ourselves and speak up for our own rights effectively is just as important as the rest.)

Remember why this happens. Ghosting is a lack of communication brought about by a fear of confrontation. In other words, someone with whom you had a business relationship chose not to communicate with you on a fairly important matter. No matter who was "in the right," or if there even is a "right," lack of communication isn't good for a business relationship, anyway. The ghosting itself may be a sign that you're better off elsewhere.

Learn from this. One thing I took away from being ghosted is that it sucks. Which seems obvious, but the more pertinent point is that I am now aware of the unhappiness that one simple choice can cause. If I'm ever in a situation where I'm tempted to slip out the back instead of addressing my issues, I can look back on how it feels to be slipped out on. Stepping up to communicate these difficult issues isn't fun, but it's also very necessary. And in future, we have a chance to avoid doing to someone else what was done to us.

None of this, however, has to do with being dropped without being paid. You are within your rights to take legal recourse for non-payment from a client. If you realize you have been ghosted without pay, start by sending a detailed invoice for all unpaid service. If they are still silent, it's time to start looking into your legal options.

As always, stay safe and smart out there. Freelancing is risk and reward.

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It's Time to Lay Perfect Attendance Awards to Rest

There are a lot of discussions of "our new normal" going on — be it our position until These Uncertain Times™ have passed, or what we'll do afterwards based on what we've learned. There's a near endless selection of hills to die on, if that's your ideal of a good time: political, social, economic, you name it. My personal standard is to die on one hill at a time, because most of the others are admirably covered and there's only one of me. Selective commentary doesn't mean I don't care about other things; it just means I know where I'm best qualified to speak as compared to other people. And by God, I've been training all my life to speak on this particular issue.

School ended early in the United States, which made sense considering our summer holidays start in June anyway. In the case of my home state of Virginia, the goal appears to be careful monitoring and roll-out over the summer with an eye to a safe return to school in the autumn. And when that happens, I hope — probably fruitlessly — that Perfect Attendance Awards will also have burned off.

I nearly didn't write this post because I thought, there's surely no way these awards are still a thing. Between an uptick in distance learning and the knowledge that illnesses really can be devastating, I thought 2020 would be above that. I assumed it was left behind in my 80s and 90s schooldays, along with pinching our waists with plastic pincers to see how fat we were. But a quick search shows that not only do they still exist, there are free ones to print online and handy little guides on how to upsell them to your students.

To some extent, I understand the thinking — especially if you assume that, like participation trophies, perfect attendance awards are really for the parents. (And they are, aren't they?) Susie may not be valedictorian or a track star, but at least she never missed a day of school. And for that you get a piece of paper, maybe a pencil if your school has them to spare.

But I swear. I do swear. If we haven't gotten past being horny for Perfect Attendance after this year, I'm going to be distressed. There's literally no reason for it, there's no merit, and if anything it encourages the same sort of flippant attitude toward contagious illness that has businesses scrambling to learn what disinfectant is as we speak.

From the Desk Bed of a Sick Girl

A good portion of my school memories involve staying home sick. I got the flu. I got bronchitis. I got strep throat and every single cold and stomach bug that came anywhere near me. Plus I had the bonus of endometriosis from an early age, meaning every period was potentially a three-day bout of excruciating pain. I bounced back from all of them, but I spent my fair share of days laid up on the sofa watching The Price Is Right and hydrating with a bowl of crushed ice.

The Internet as we know it was only making its way into homes in the last part of my high school career. You still had to hang up the phone to get online and vice-versa. The idea of online classes was still fairly far off, so missing classes was a bit more of, as they say in scholarly circles, a bitch. I did suffer whenever I missed a day, so I hated staying home, no matter how bad I felt.

Also I wanted that pointless Perfect Attendance award, because I was an overachiever. I can only think of one time I stayed home for any reason other than actual illness, but that's another story for another time (if indeed any time). I didn't like being sick. I didn't want to not be there. And I do think that's true of a lot more students than we like to believe.

Much as with my constant C's in PE because I couldn't run a mile as fast as the other kids, my only thought was "I'm failing because I'm not as healthy as the other kids." And even with my multiple hidden illnesses that wouldn't be diagnosed until college or later, I was closer to "Healthy" on the continuum than many many people. In retrospect, not getting that little piece of paper was a whiff in the wind compared to other students whose failure came in the form of actual grades dropping, who had even worse immune systems than mine.

A Grown-Up Perspective

As adults, we spend a lot of time piecing apart and rebuilding thoughts we had as kids. My primary one is the idea that not everything that happens to me is something warranted — a consideration I afford others, but not myself. You know how it is. Logic applies to everyone except ourselves because, you know, reasons.

The point is, a lot of kids struggle with this on a regular basis. It can be a lot harder to differentiate between actual judgment from an authoritative source and Just Plain Unfairness as a kid. Teachers are an authority. Schools are an authority. So if school rewards always having your butt in the seat no matter what, then what does that tell us?

It tells us — and teachers and other school faculty, please absorb this — it tells us that our health and the health of others are secondary to appearances. It means that even if we have the flu, our physical presence is of more value than our wellness or the wellness of anyone else in that classroom.

That's a mentality that's damaged a lot of how we work as adults. It's "walk it off" on steroids, and it's bled into our personal psyches and managerial level psyches. I have been the person who was convinced that faux invulnerability is ideal. I have worked and volunteered in environments where running yourself ragged got you praise — to the point that nowadays, if an editor or overseer puts my health ahead of my deadline, I'm actually confused.

This is something that's bred into you early: the idea that being ill is shameful, and the only penance is pretending you're not. In some cases the upshot of that is well out of our hands, depending on where we work or attend school. But if nothing else, we can at least look inward, and maybe speak up.

Going Forward

I'm not fool enough to believe that phasing out Perfect Attendance Awards would singlehandedly resolve our unhealthy fixation with productivity over health. This is a widespread thing, present in a lot of venues, to the point that it's seeped into our mindset. I still struggle with listening to my body when it's telling me to lie down or sleep.

The world is turbulent right now, and we're learning a lot of things suddenly and by necessity. One good thing we've learned is that in 2020, we have a phenomenal capacity for continuing on via the Internet. We're making entertainment, uniting over fandoms, restructuring classrooms, making political moves... and all of the things we're learning and discovering will still have a place in the world post-lockdown. There is, quite honestly, no merit to an antiquated non-honor that does nothing to combat truancy and everything to break down a child's impression of the value of their health.

Once the masks are off and the schools are open, we should be just as vehement about protecting each other and availing ourselves of online resources to make it possible. And that starts in the classroom.

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Actual Work-from-Home Tips That Don't Suck

I've worked from home for the last several years, so the only real change in my life is that there's no toilet paper at the story and I can't go to D&D nights with my friends. For those people currently doing their jobs from home... well, I think a lot of them are finally realizing that their perceptions of the work-from-home life aren't quite on track.

"It must be nice to work from home, you can set your own schedule!"... is not a sentiment I've heard in the last handful of weeks, as many people in my sphere finally discover the distraction, the waxing and waning motivation, and overall "why does my head feel like it's full of cotton batting"-ness of a work life conducted entirely from home. It's not something I take for granted; it is something I understand both the good and the bad of.

While my plan is to remain working from home for the long haul, for the rest of you this is a temporary arrangement to be braved until normality returns at some point. Some of you will be "over it" soon. Others already are. And I don't know, some of you may discover you prefer this and work better this way. There are all sorts out there.

In the interim, you're going to see a lot of very informative articles on how to master the work-from-home grind. One of these might work for you — but as a long-term home-office type, I can confirm that there is no one-size-fits all solution. Even the most common, broadly accepted advice you'll see comes with caveats; and half the people offering this advice want to sell you something. 

So rather than giving you tips on mastering working from home, I'm here to offer tips on figuring out your personal vibe. Firstly, and most importantly:

Don't buy a course from a life coach.

I mean, this is life advice I stand by in general. Never, ever, ever, ever trust anyone who promises to to "turn your life around" or "give you the one tool you need to succeed" or whatever it is. Any human being selling you a way to realize your potential is already undercutting your potential. Whatever they're selling is advice you can find somewhere else online, repackaged with their brand on it. I see these ads all the time, as I'm a thirtysomething female freelancer and thus in their target demographic. These same people will come around and target confused work-from-home types until things fall back into place.

Now, if you know someone who teaches good organizational skills, who'll work with you one-on-one, who has a good track record, and who doesn't paint themselves as your one gateway to success, then you may have some luck there. But even then, a lot of the things you'll get from those people can be found on YouTube or Skillshare. You almost certainly don't need a course; but if you feel you do, shop around intelligently, and look at your free options first.

Make a morning routine, even if it sucks.

You've probably read about the morning routines of successful entrepreneurs — people who get up at 5 am, go to the gym, have a green smoothie while reading an improving book, spend 20 minutes meditating, what have you. And it's true, having a Morning Routine is good for you. But honestly, it can suck, just as long as it exists.

If you have a day job that requires you (usually) to go out in the morning, you have a morning routine already. It might be splashing water on your face, getting dressed, and choking down coffee and a Pop Tart, but that's still a routine. It's still something that draws the line between sleeping and functioning. And as much as starting your day like a billionaire genius would probably be hugely self-improving, all you really need to do is tell your brain it's meant to be on.

My actual morning routine consists solely of making my bed, washing up, and getting dressed. That's it. No intellectual podcasts, no spin class. If I've actually gotten up with my alarm and am functional, sure, there are other things I do to get my brain working. But all that really matters is being up and put together. And for people not used to working from home, that bare minimum is super important.

If you're feeling jazzed and want to try more, go for it. But if you like the idea of a fancy and elaborate morning routine and not the execution, don't push yourself. Do what you can.

Schedule your day with distractions in mind.

We all wanna hit that magical Flow State, find ourselves in that perfect time when we're just cranking out all that work with all the motivation. But you're at home, and there'll be distractions. And I don't mean the desire to watch TV or play video games or just wander off. Those will be there too, sure. But there are others that are far tougher to avoid.

That's the freelancer's big secret: reasonable distractions. A call from a family member. The sudden realization that you are entirely out of shampoo. Going to the kitchen to make lunch, but then something spills or breaks or no longer works, so you have a new task. Throw in a work-from-home partner or homeschooled kids, and even the nicest workspace is going to be prone to interruption.

If you have the ability to close a door and be in an Office Space in your home where you will literally be in the same mindset as an office, that's great. But odds are you're going to be fielding at least one imponderable per day. If you set your day's work goals based on the idea that you will avoid all distractions, you'll feel defeated as soon as the first one kicks in.

How you go about working around this will depend on how you work best. In my case, I add two hours to my projected work day as I'm scheduling it out. Those two hours go toward being stuck on the phone with my insurance company, or running an emergency errand for my grandfather, or getting stranded on my way to the grocery store because of unforeseen car trouble. If nothing happens to me that day, I wrap two hours early and watch a movie or play some video games. That doesn't mean that's how you have to do it... but working in allowance, either time-wise or even just mentally, for imponderables around the house will leave you less frustrated.

Don't work in your jammies... but other than that, do whatever.

I don't know how you have to dress usually at work. I worked at a news desk before I went freelance, so I rarely dressed up. I needed to look presentable, but I didn't have a massive handbook like I did at my old bank teller job. Now, as a freelancer, I dress down but make it a point to put myself together at least somewhat. I could get up from my desk and go to the store without changing anything.

Just about everyone will tell you that you need to have a "work outfit," and I agree... to a point. I definitely think you need to not be working in your pyjamas. See the above point on morning routines: you need something to delineate sleep time and active time. That's also a reason not to work from your bed (that, and making sure your brain only associates your bed with sleep, so you can sleep better).

For some people, work-ish clothes for work hours followed by casual clothes after may bring structure to the day. For others, comfort is more important. A good guideline is, wear something you'd be okay leaving the house in with no changes (unless you don't wear shoes in the house). The main thing is that suggestion that it's not time for sleep.

Beware Schedule Drift

In an ideal situation, all that's really changed about your job in the short term is location. In other words, you'll likely be going back to the office. And when that happens — whenever that is — you have to go back to actual normal.

Normally I would tell people in this situation to keep getting up at the time they usually do, lack of commute notwithstanding. But in a time when health and stress levels are major concerns, any sleep you can get is valuable. So if you're usually obligated to roll out at 6 am and you can manage an extra hour, take it while you can. That said.

If you're largely self-monitoring when it comes to your work time, it is important to not let yourself slide too much. This is especially true if your work-from-home situation is not going to be permanent, though it applies overall. Memes aside, it's very easy for your sense of time to get all screwed around when you're doing everything at home. Do that long enough unchecked, and you'll eventually have a noon start time that takes a lot of work to crank back.

The big secret of work-from-home success, which no one wants to tell you, is that it's extremely individual. There was a time when all I wanted was for someone to hand me a guidebook that explained how to "get it right." But it doesn't work that way, because we aren't all the same person. We thrive differently, and during this time at home I think a lot of people are going to learn what their ideal work environment is.

This is uncharted territory and you're under no obligation to nail it right away. This is an adjustment that, for many people, only comes alongside a significant career change or choice. And here, you kind of had no choice. The good news is, you're under no obligation to find it fun, ace it overnight, or even do it forever. 

The bottom line is actually very simple: preserve a basic line of consistency and responsibility that will allow you to focus on work, while still making allowances for what your presence in the home entails. You don't have to have a Pinterest-perfect home office and a killer morning ritual. You just have to have something sustainable — the trimming can come later if you want it. If you're getting up, eating breakfast, and working somewhere in your house that isn't your bedroom wearing something that isn't your pyjamas, congrats: you're already doing better than a lot of us who do this long-term.

Most of all, be nice to yourself during this time. You're going to have days where you mess it up. That's fine. No one actually knows what they're doing right now. Anyone who says differently is probably selling something.

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Dear Hollywood: It's Time to Bring Back Serials

I recently finished the first season of The Mandalorian, and it will surprise no one to find out I had a damn good time watching it. Potentially more fun than I've had at an actual Star Wars movie in... a while. The core cast was solid. The guest stars were well chosen. And I'm so used to hour-long episodes of genre entertainment these days that I didn't realize it was functioning in 30-40 minute bursts. I thought time was just flying.

Apparently I'm not alone in this feeling, either. People really dig it. It's surpassed Stranger Things as the most in-demand show on a streaming platform. And my favorite part? It feels like an old Hollywood adventure serial. In mood, in pacing, in cliffhangers.

It made me realize that, with the bloat of cinematic universes, we're in need of serials again.

Serials were such a good thing in their time. You show up for a movie, you get short adventures of Buck Rogers or Flash Gordon beforehand. Action, adventure, cliffhangers, all packaged up in weekly doses before your main (or double) feature. Nowadays it feels like television is our catch-all for serialized entertainment, but I feel like — maybe — there is precedent for bringing back the pre-feature adventure shorts.

Let me just. Give you an example. Using a franchise I feel could benefit from this tactic pretty much immediately.

Okay. Sweet Jesus.

So I'm not touching Disney+ because I'm not ready to tell the Mouse it's possible to triage their streaming output. But let's look. Black Widow, Eternals, Shang-Chi, Doctor Strange, Thor, Blade, and another swipe at Fantastic 4, all in spitting distance. Not seen are Guardians III, the next Ant-Man, Spidey 3, etc. Even if we take out their streaming content, there's a lot.

Imagine another schedule. Black Widow comes out, and for every week it's in theatres, it's fronted by a new 15-minute installment of an Eternals serial. (Or swap them: front Eternals with a Black Widow serial.) Maybe that installment shows in front of a couple other action/sci-fi projects in the same span from Disney or a partner. At the end of its week, the episode goes up ad-supported on Marvel's YouTube channel. So if you want to see every episode full-sized, you need to go to a movie once a week. If you can't, you can catch what you missed online. And once it's run its course, a home video release. Rinse and repeat — put, say, an installment of Guardians III before Thor: Love and Thunder.

What are the merits of this?

First off, you de-bloat the cinematic universe without cutting titles. It would involve triage, and likely the mentality that the studio would be "demoting" titles rather than simply offering them in a slightly different medium. Let's face it: there is some fan exhaustion. I felt ready to give up the MCU post-Endgame not because I was no longer invested, but because the movie made me realize just how many movies there had been, and how many more there would be.

Secondly, some titles would benefit from a serialized format. As much as I love the Guardians of the Galaxy movies, I feel like their setting — regularly jumping from world to world — could thrive episodically. As a pre-film serial, they get to keep their cinematic look, and they keep going.

Speaking of keeping going, serialized titles stay relevant longer. Whichever characters get the serial treatment, they're going to be the equivalent of "water cooler TV." After the first night of a film release, the hardcore fans have seen it, and the fandom is now the "have seens" and the "have not seens." But as with television (and streaming shows that aren't dropped all at once), you've now got something always advancing. You've got a cinematic presence that advances every week, in addition to the ones you hit at one go.

Finally, the obvious: it encourages repeat moviegoing. People who can't go every week aren't blocked out provided you get a digital rerun. But for people who want the big screen experience, there's a reason to go back multiple weeks in a row — either to rewatch a film, or to see something else in a similar vein.

But what about studios not assembling cinematic universes? It works there, too.

Consider reboots, reboots of reboots, sequels, midquels, what have you. Some of these come from IPs that could have some staying power (and perhaps do in comic books or other media). Men in Black and Ghostbusters come to mind. Rather than full-blown films, could they survive as episodic, expanded universe stories? Short runs (or even single episodes) would be a way to test concepts while bringing new content.

On top of that, short subjects have a lower "threat level" to hardcore fans. Even if a remake or reboot isn't erasure of the film before it, it can give off that air. Something more accessible would have a greater chance of winning over both the curious and the long-term fans... and provide a proof of concept before dropping a hundred mil on a potential flop.

Plus, we live in an age of bonus content. Think of Doctor Who's "Night of the Doctor," or any number of bonus short films included as DVD/Blu-ray extras. We already love it; we've just not put it on the big screen much, save for bonus content at Fathom Events screenings. Besides, it's in the DNA of speculative fiction. It was how we watched a lot of our first superheroes and spacemen. There was absolutely something to it.

Do I see this coming to fruition? Of course not. It would take a lot of reworking of business plans, a lot of reconsidering how content for the big screen is made, and an admission from Hollywood that three-hour-epics aren't all that's out there. If anything of the sort were to happen, it's more likely that studios like Disney would stack even more titles on top of what's already coming out, rather than reassessing their current titles.

It's a shame. A lot of our sci-fi heroes would benefit from serialized content with weekly cliffhangers. And languishing IPs in search of a revival could potentially stick around longer in this format, instead of crashing and burning after one film that didn't live up to the hype. Were it ever to come about, I'd be living for it. And probably at the movies a lot more than usual.

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Thanks to Ginger Hoesly for helping me sort my thoughts on this blog post — which would originally have been much more of a winding lament. Check out her store and buy some cool stuff from her, or check out our book series!

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BOOK REVIEW: Gabriel's Trumpet

It isn't often that I open a book with little to no idea what I'm in for. I received a review copy of Jon Black's Gabriel's Trumpet and, other than a vague idea of the story, I had no idea what the true genre was. Was it paranormal? Murder mystery? The simple answer is — to reveal the genre beyond "historical fiction" would be, in a way, to reveal the ending. And Gabriel's Trumpet benefits from the reader being in the same seat of curiosity as its protagonist, Dr. Marcus Roads.

Marcus is here to find out exactly what the reader is: what the hell is going on, and can it be classified as otherworldly? He's a researcher for the Boston Society for Psychical Research, sniffing out hokum alongside the best and worst of them. The physician is both valuable and contentious in his field for the same reason: he doesn't fudge results. His current case? Find out whether a jazz trumpeter really has come back from the dead to play his way to stardom, accompanied by his iconic silver trumpet.

Marcus's journey is a retrospective of the life of Gabriel "Resurrection" Gibbs, from his youth in the church to his dubious business ventures, his death and (apparently) new life lighting up New York's Harlem Renaissance. And, it seems, you can't follow Gibbs without becoming a part of his story. What starts as a few wagon rides to reticent family members turns into life-or-death scrapes, spiritual battles, and mysterious encounters.

The path following Gabriel Gibbs is, as it happens, a path through African-American culture of the early 20th century. His story winds through Christian life, takes a detour through New Orleans mysticism, and emerges in the midst of the 1920s Harlem Renaissance. Expect look-ins from notable names and faces — some you'll know instantly, others buried by time and virtue of not making it into your high school reading curriculum.

A goodly portion of the book is, in fact, real; though unless you're already well informed about the period (and paranormal research in particular), only illusionist/mythbuster Harry Houdini and a few others are likely to occur to the reader. This doesn't take away from the experience at all: if anything, there's something delightful about discovering that most of the strange characters you've been encountering were quite real, after all.

Gabriel's Trumpet, given its subject matter, shies away from very little. However, it approaches the issues it touches in a surprisingly open way. Matters of politics, the ethics of certain occupations, and the intersection of racial identity and the arts are raised, debated in front of Marcus, and laid to rest as he observes them. No attempt is made to pass judgment on either stance — we're simply shown that stances exist. It's almost Charles Fort-esque (another historical figure present in the narrative) in its presentation: Black and Marcus aren't here to tell you what to think, they're only here to present you with the different pieces of the puzzle and leave the rest to you.

In fact, there's only one part of the story that has any real "right" answer: the ending. Because despite this being a very "about the journey" story, we aren't going to be left empty-handed for our troubles. A very few people get to learn the full truth of Gabriel Gibbs and his miraculous resurrection. They can be counted on one hand, and the reader is one of those fingers.

Which isn't to say that stories with absent or unclear endings are inherently bad. But that, plus no through-lines in the text for possible end points, makes an unclear ending seem like a hand-wave to distract from shoddy writing. In the case of Gabriel's Trumpet, we have twice the strength: not only are we given a full debriefing, we're also given enough clues throughout the text to find it for ourselves, should the author have chosen to forego the explanation.

If there is an issue with Gabriel's Trumpet, it's the same issue you'll find with any heavily researched fiction. While the story appears to be constructed specifically to allow us a walk through this point in history, there are times when even that carefully-constructed frame bends under the weight of Black's research. It's understandable. There's a lot to tell, especially in a story that's gamely joining up 20th century black history and 20th century paranormal research in one narrative. Some of these passages were handled well, with Marcus awash in situations he'd never known possible. Others were tonally dissonant and made me come up for air at unexpected times — but these moments were never deal-breakers.

The race to confirm or debunk the resurrection of Gabriel Gibbs is infectious. Gabriel's Trumpet pulls its protagonist — and its reader — through scene after seemingly disparate scene, illuminating an unexpected history along the way. The story of "Resurrection" Gibbs really is the story of the Harlem Renaissance. What that means is this book's true payoff.

Pick up Gabriel's Trumpet from 18th Wall Productions

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