Choose any two
In July, I started in on the Ray Bradbury story-a-week effort. More recently, I found that real life is throwing up substantial obstacles.
Initially the effort went well; it was a good motivational tool for writing. I wrote a story a week fairly easily, and got up to a few weeks a head at times.
Unfortunately, real life, in the form of work and personal travel, brought that to a crashing halt. I found that of work, writing, and editing the magazine, I can cover two out of three with some success. Because work brings in money, and editing is a commitment, it's been writing that has given way. I'm now substantially behind on my writing schedule.
I'm not giving up yet. I'm going to try to get back on track. But it does seem likely that within the next year, I'll have to make some choices about what to focus on.
Just over a year ago, I'd never been to a science fiction convention. Mostly, it was a question of access; I didn't live in places where SFF conventions happened. I also didn't really know what went on at them.
Last year, back in the US, I decided to change that. Starting with Sasquan/Worldcon in Spokane, I've now been to four conventions - global, regional, and state. What I've learned from them is that I'm not really the convention type.
I enjoy the idea of conventions - the fact that SFF fans gather in large numbers to talk about a shared interest. But I find the actuality of conventions underwhelming. The vast majority of panels don't interest me. And the panels themselves appear to draw from a small, cliquish group. I think there's a problem with any con that has one panelist on 20 panels, and a handful of people on over a dozen panels apiece. I've been to my local con twice, and each time it seemed like the same group making the same comments to the same audience - a lot of it self-promotion.
"Well," you say, "get involved. Make it better." Good advice, but apparently easier said than done. Rather to my surprise, I had no success getting involved not just in programming, but in volunteering.
Clearly there's an audience for cons. Clearly a great number of people really enjoy them. I'm glad they're around. But I think I've tested the waters enough now to be sure that conventions and I aren't a very good fit.
Don't vote? Don't gripe.
Some decades ago, on a back road in coastal Oregon, there was a sign on a fence saying "Don't vote? Don't gripe." I think that's a fair position. If you can't be troubled to take part in governing your own country, you don't get to complain about the results.
On the other hand, if you did vote (and I hope you did), here's your fully official license to gripe. Make the most of it.