Yeah, that happened to me yesterday.

I won’t go into what the last six weeks have been like for me. I went on an emotional, mental, and ultimately physical rollercoaster that left me an absolute wreck. Highest high, lowest low, migraines, panic attacks – I hit a wall and couldn’t keep going.

Yesterday, I found my center. It was still there, waiting for me to quit being stupid. I can honestly say I haven’t felt this good in months.

You want to know what happened?

Here is the Cliff Notes version: I forgot who I am.

Now, I’ve never had a really concrete identity. But this time? I completely forgot who I am at my inner core. I took my eyes off my passion and put them on my obligation. I gave far too much to a day job that, if I died, would replace me before I could be cremated. I wasted several truck-loads of soul energy on a place that wouldn’t notice I was gone until the reports were late. And I did it for six solid weeks.

Yesterday, alone in my office, it hit me.

I hate it there. If I’d let my mounting frustrations consume me much longer, I would have left, sure – and would have hated the new job just as much if not more. Just like I’ve hated any other job I’ve had over the years.

Why? Because it’s a JOB. It’s an obligation. It doesn’t fuel me. It doesn’t make me happy. It’s not my passion.

I’m a writer who has to work to keep the electricity on. I’m not a worker who writes in the rare moments she can put a complete sentence together.

I.

Am.

A.

Writer.

In that moment, sitting there alone, my heart rate leveled out, the nagging tightness in my chest eased, and I took the first deep breath I’d taken in six weeks. And last night, I slept like a rock.

I’m done giving that office my mental and soul energy. I’ll still work my butt off. I’ll still give it my usual 110% even though I know I’ll never be rewarded with anything except more work. And, if an opportunity should arise somewhere else, yeah, I’ll no doubt leave.

But – when it’s all said and done, when I’m locking the office door at the end of the day and heading for the time clock, I’m a writer.

I’m a writer.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got worlds that need attention. Y’all lock up and I’ll see you back here soon.

If you haven’t read his work … fucking fix that.

Now.

Start with “The Illustrated Man” and wind your way to “Fahrenheit 451” (I’m ashamed of how many times I had to type Fahrenheit before autocorrect stopped screaming) — and do your psyche a favor and take a rest stop with “Something Wicked This Way Comes.”

After that? Keep going. He left us a wealth of words.

Happy Birthday to the Master.

I wasn’t watching when MTV took to the airwaves; being from a reeeeeeeely small town in Texas, we didn’t have access to MTV until it hit our cable provider. I was lucky — my forever friend lived far enough away from the “town proper” that her family had a satellite dish. So I was cool by proxy. Don’t judge me; it counts.

I’m a little nostalgic, so bear with my babbling. Yeah, MTV is 39 years old, but the “M” only stood for music for what, 14 of those years? I still curse the onset of “The Real World,” I’m grateful that MTV Classic still shows 80’s videos throughout the week, and even though “Metal Mayhem” only shows the same 12 metal videos, I still watch. Where else will you see vintage Iron Maiden? Hell, where outside of a concert or YouTube will you see ANY Iron Maiden?

For the record, I still turn up the volume when “Video Killed The Radio Star” comes on in the car. I still get chills when I hear the first notes of “The Reflex” and will die on the hill defending Duran Duran as music royalty. And don’t get me started on the masterpiece that is King Missile’s “Detachable Penis.”

The 80’s needed MTV. Honestly, with the demented shit going on in the world now, I think we need it again. We need music. We need visual escapism that doesn’t center around a smartphone screen. Even just a few minutes away from the news would help.

And while I’m babbling, I watched “Ready Player One” this afternoon. Any 80’s junkies out there who haven’t seen it, you need to do two things. First, read the book. It’s one of the best out there. Second, see the movie. Twice. I know there are some 80’s shout-outs that I missed, so I plan to see it again. And for over two hours, I didn’t feel so damn old.

That’s all for now. That movie got the old brain cranking, and I have a cyberpunk story to finish.

“I Want My MTV”…back.

In her honor, I’m writing about Good Things. She always smiled, always found the good, always stood for what she believed in. I’m down, but I won’t stay that way. She wouldn’t want any of us to stay down.

So. Good things.

1. My series, after all these years, has a name. The Eden Evolution Series follows Kerry Sheridan, the thoroughly pissed-off psychic assassin fighting back against the dark organization who built her, broke her, and owned her for most of her life. And now, the four-book series I’d initially planned just got a lot longer. More on that, later.
2. The trailer for KLS-9 is an absolute thing of beauty. As soon as I figure out how to post it, It’ll be here on my website on the Lower Level page. If you’re reading this and you need a book trailer, find me. I’ll lead you straight to the wizardess Anna Mocikat who is stuck with me for as long as I’m writing books.
3. The trailer for SABRE-6 is coming. Like, wicked soon. Tomorrow, actually.
4. My story “Worldwithoutendamen” is on YouTube now! The illustrious Kyle Hester chose it as his inaugural Scary Campfire Story on his YouTube channel. If you can’t find it, let me know and I’ll shoot you the link. It’s a fun read that captures that creepy freakin’ story.
5. My short story “Mirror Man” is out now in The Hollow Volume 5, an anthology produced by Breaking Rules Publishing. Something else really awesome is coming for this story, too, but (you guessed it) more on that later.
6. I mentioned the Lower Level page, right? There’s a new perk that comes with subscribing to this loony little blog. I figured out how to sneak blog subscribers in the back door. No paying the fan club fee, no expiration, no nothing. You just have to put up with some sporadic blog posts. Not hard, right? I promise not to annoy you too much.
7. I … dammit, I can’t talk about that one yet. I’ve branched into cyberpunk — you’ll find out why in October.
8. One of my stories has been adapted into a script for a short film. No details yet, but keep your fingers crossed. I’d say more, but I don’t want to jinx it.
9. I’m figuring out this social media stuff little by little. To celebrate, I’m thinking of nifty things like merch sales and maybe some giveaways. I’ll keep everyone posted.

It doesn’t sound like much, but for me? All of this is tremendous. I’m the first who’ll admit I don’t grind at my writing enough, and I’m working to fix that, starting with this post. Just think what I can do if I finally get off my ass and really kick it in gear.

More on that, later.

My name is Leigh Grissom. You probably knew that since it’s at the top of the screen.

What you might not know is — as of May 15, 2020, I’ve been sober for 15 years.

The last few months have been rough due to the craziness at the day job (layoffs, furloughs, both of which I was blessed to avoid), but I made it. And I’m pretty damn proud of it.

(Author’s note: There are other reasons it’s been hard this year. I’ll tell those later. Or not.)

Why am I posting this? Because I need to. I’m coming up on a crossroads, thinking about new directions and new adventures, and I need to be able to pull up this post and remind myself how far I’ve already come.

More later. I promise.

I did. I knew the Marsico name for years, but I didn’t meet the tiny dynamo that was Teddy until 2013. I knew within minutes of our first encounter that he’d crossed my path for a reason.

We were friends almost instantly, which is a miracle in itself. I’m not one to instantly trust anyone, but with Teddy it was easy.

I could go on and on about him, but I’ll jump ahead to the day he solved the biggest mystery I faced as a new writer. I had a manuscript with no title. Ever the shining knight, Ted sat with me and asked questions. Then, he took out a piece of paper and asked, “How about this?”

In his careful, perfect printing, he wrote:

KLS-9

i couldn’t breathe. The hair on my arms stood up. I knew this was it. I had a title. He’d figured it out.

i made sure everyone knew who he was at my first book signing. I let him know how grateful I was. I thanked him in front of everyone – and, true to Ted, he turned around and lifted me up with the sweetest speech.

After that day, even though we didn’t see each other often, I always knew if I called and said, “I need you,” he would have been at my side before I ended the call. He was so proud when SABRE-6 came out, and every now and again, I’d get a text saying “thinking of you.” Weeks, months would go by, but I always knew he was out there. True Friends always are.

i still can’t wrap my mind around my dear friend being gone. I pushed the pain away for three weeks. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. I raged. I couldn’t imagine the world without his Light in it.

When I sucked up the courage to speak at his service, I realized his Light is not gone. I saw it in the eyes of everyone there. But most of all, Teddy’s Light blazed from his two sons, handsome chips off the Marsico block.

You’re not gone, my forever friend. You touched so many, lifted so many, and we are all better people for knowing you. I can still hear your laughter. I can still see “that look” you would give me when I’d say something more off-the-wall than usual.

Thank you. Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for always listening. Thank you for an amazing title. I miss you so much, Teddy. I promise I’ll keep writing. I’m dedicating the third book to you.

All my love, always.