I don't know what 2014 will yield for me as a writer struggling for professional status after close to 15 years. There are two possible publications of mine coming from Dark Moon Press this year (parts 1 and 2 of The Nightmare of Aarontown, part 3 coming in 2015) and some more appearing in anthologies by Dead Guns Press, Emby Press and Static Movement imprint scheduled sometime in 2014 also (fingers crossed). I hope to get back online at my own dwelling instead of having to use a local library computer typing and posting this missive. I hope to finish a novel or two yet incomplete (one tentatively titled Claws of Purgatory about modern-day werewolves and another with the working title Vampire Hunter from Beyond the Stars - that last one will be bound to go through changes - based on a idea from a relative-in-law), get some more stories finished and revise some self-published works in need of corrections (so far as they can be smoothed into somewhat better shape from past imperfect proofreading).
I guess ultimately I just want the precarious nature of my existence here to end one way or the other - either by success or premature death, and at this point I care not which. I'm tired of being in debt, often broke and unable to do anything for changing this sorry state of affairs. We all want security in life, but I just want to rejoin the middle class or do even better than my parents. I don't have to become the next best seller (but if it happens I'll take such a change in stride). Something has to change for me, as I've often typed here, but yet nothing ever seems to much. So, that begs the question, why should I expect 2014 to be any different than 2013 or other disappointing years in which I prove unable to realize my own too high expectations.