Last night, I enjoyed cocktails and catfish fingers at Brooklyn’s Vodou Bar with my buddy Dr. Jennifer. We talked about life and how things hadn’t been going especially well for us the past few months.
“2011 has been my worst year,” I said to Dr. Jennifer. She replied that it hadn’t been her worst year, but it had been a disappointment.
“If there was a lesson to be learned in 2011 and I missed it, oh well,” she said, then followed up with, “And I’m not going to say 2012 is going to be my year. That’s just bullshit.”
Normally, I would have agreed with her. It always pissed me off when people would make the proclamation that the upcoming new year was going to be “their year.” I never understood what the fuck that meant. I mean, yeah, I get it, a new year, a new beginning, blah blah, whatever. A new beginning can happen anytime. A new beginning can start the moment you finish reading this post.
But last night, I felt differently. It’s not bullshit, I thought. 2012 is going to be my year, goddamn.
And Guestlist is the reason I feel this way. For those of you still in the dark, Guestlist is my debut novel, which releases in February. February of 2012.
Now, I certainly don’t expect to get super rich off sales of Guestlist. (Though it would be nice if you, Dear Reader, bought a copy or two.) But I do believe it will raise my profile as a writer. People will finally take my claims seriously. I mean, I do get paid to write. I receive checks on a regular basis, and they do cash. After all, it’s how I pay my rent and phone bill and exorbitant bar tabs. But I often feel as thought most people think I’m bullshitting when I say that I am a professional wordsmith.
Back to the subject, I really feel as if 2012 has something more in store for me. Perhaps the shit I went through this year was simply trials of life designed to test my resolve. Maybe God really wanted to see if I had the moxie to power up and do the things I
wanted needed to do. If so, I honestly don’t appreciate the hard lesson. I’d be thankful for whatever blessings came my way, no matter what the situation.
But again, whatever.
I’ve begun looking, nay, moving forward. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. I see the endgame. Nothing but good shit. So I’m plowing forth. Slowly but surely. It will happen. I hope you’re there with me when it does.