Don't confuse fame with success. Madonna is one; Helen Keller is the other. (Erma Bombeck)

This time of year is never fun for me. I don’t like Christmas music or anything to do with holidays really, and my grandpa died two weeks before Christmas. I woke up thinking about that today. Well, that and would my dastardly villain live in the same house now that he’s a better dastardly and a bit more villainous.

My grandpa and I were close and holidays seem really hollow without him. He grew up during Depression days, so he liked having food on the table more than anything. There were times when they literally had nothing to eat and went to bed hungry. As I get older I have a better understanding of how important the little things were to him and it makes me miss him more. It makes me wish we’d had more time or that I’d been more present. Regrets are like assholes; everybody’s got them.

On a more positive note, I’m back making progress with the book. I got really hung up the past five days on a character, but we’re making headway again, one word at a time. It’s kinda like rehab, making it through one moment, and the next, and the one after that, only with words instead of not drinking. Especially since getting through word after word sometimes requires alcohol. Made a lot of sober progress tonight though, as in rewrote scenes for the umpteenth time and they finally work. I can get to bed before 2 a.m. for a change. Maybe get up at a decent hur too. Is that too much to aspire to? I used to be a morning person before I took up writing full-time.