Editor's Choice and New Year Epiphanies

Yay! Just found out today that my story, Ghost Between Moments published in Bewildering Stories was considered to be part of the review editors' favorites for the fourth quarter! That's so cool!

Now, if only I could write more. 2009 looms in the not so distant horizon and its going to be quite a challenge to equal my 2008 writerly accomplishments, but, we'll see. If I do fail, at least it will not be because I did not try, right?

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This year has proven to be a year of growing up for me. Now, more than ever, I'm forced to accept that I'm not quite the end product, but instead, I'm simply a work in progress. Perhaps I'll always be a work in progress. In the past, I had believed that you could have one perfect state - just like characters in a book, who eventually reach a point where, flawed or not, they no longer feel the urge to change - but of course, the one perfect state is impossible unless you're like Buddha or something.

And that's fine.

It doesn't bother me as much now that I make mistakes; nor does it behoove me to admit and acknowledge them. Instead, I strive to not repeat the errors in my past and move on. I don't dwell; neither do I whine (too) much. I've even learned how to talk (with less sarcasm) about what bothers me, even when the pain is raw. But most importantly, I know, with irrevocable certainty that someone is more important than me in the bigger schema of things. My son, though not the center of my universe, definitely occupies several galaxies that before his existence, I had not known were voids of emptiness.

On to 2009!

Because Love Doesn't Have To Make Sense

When we first met, I was young (and not just younger) and you, were already you. In a crowded coffee shop, filled with good juju and over several frappes, we talked, and laughed, and fell in love. For me, it was our seeming difference – where I was aggressive, you were calm, where I was loud and insecure, you were even tempered and confident – that made you irresistible me. And for you, as you would tell me later on, it was my seeming crazy self-importance – the fact that I seemed to know that the world owed me (and I owed the world) something far greater than what I already had.

It wasn’t easy, after we got married.

I wanted excitement, and romance, and adventure, while you desired the quietness and Babylon 5 and sleepy Sunday afternoons. It had been a long road since then, but it was good road. Through protocultures, Bango Bubbles, cold noses in the middle of the night, stolen blankets, and unexpected snuggling in the early morning, we learned how to love each other despite and because of our own eccentricities. You learned to value physical touch (and Gossip Girl, and cut-throat Acquire); I learned how to value time (and Band of Brothers, and vat-less Science Fiction). And somewhere in between, we were blessed with a son who taught us that yes, we could still love each other (and laugh, hysterically, about our own foolishness), despite being deprived of sleep, and rest, while being overcome with worry for every little thing that he does.

Perhaps we are not the best of pairings still. We still fight, and argue; we still don’t completely understand the “kampi system” (though we have come a long way since we began). Sometimes I get impatient with you; and you, sometimes, find me unreasonable. But at the end of the day, even if things don’t make sense anymore, we still love each other.

We are the best of friends. We are the best of lovers.

Happy Anniversary (Week), my Beloved.