A rollercoaster year, 2021

Merry Christmas everyone and a Happy New Year 2022!

2021 has been a rollercoaster of a year – not only for the pandemic, neither only for the two years and three months isolation I have undergone, way longer than the pandemic, but for everything added up to… boiling inside me. It brought me struggles, and pain, and lack of focus. Let us hope for a brighter 2022!

I did not win NaNoWriMo this November, with only about 8,500 words written, and I won the two Camps NaNoWriMo with about 10,000 words each. I did not meet most of my literary goals this year, but I have still been able to write some short stories for contests and literary magazines. Some of them brought me prizes (first and second, for a couple of times each) and honourable mentions. This is an achievement.

I also succeeded to publish, at the end of September, a short story volume from the 3-4 or more which are under preparation. It is titled On nostalgia, on love, on death – De dor, de dragoste, de moarte, because all these three elements are part of our life. And, given that there has been nothing meaningful in my life except writing and colouring, the post is counting my achievements only in this respect.

2021 will also remain forever the year I lost my mother, may God rest her in peace!

I am still dealing with the related paperwork and housework, which will extend into 2022 for a while. It is difficult, but I hope everything will be solved well. Emotionally I am still struggling from time to time, and my health is not the best either – at least I am seeing some doctors and keeping on treatment (with other doctors scheduled in the first months of 2022 – there just are some things that I could not afford to do yet).

I have started timidly to attend the few literary events I can, and it is a blessing. I missed them during these more than two years. I am back writing (or trying to – still problems with focusing) and I hope for more published books in 2022. I am trying to keep living and going forward, according to the motto I have always lived according to: Caminante, no hay camino – se hace camino al andar! (Antonio Machado, as sung by Juan Manuel Serrat) – Traveller, there is no road – you are forging the road with your steps!