The Needful Things

And an evening downtown

Yesterday, I sat in my car just thinking about all the things that I need to get done over the next six weeks. Well, “need” might be a bit hyperbolic. Do I really need to do these things? Probably not, but I think that I’ve trained myself to use the word as a safety blanket just to keep pushing forward. I fear that if I succumb to procrastination, I will never come back, hence, a list of tasks that get swept under the rug for the next four episodes on my binge list. It’s that proverbial ticking time bomb that constantly nags at me, tugging on my pant leg, reminding me that a lifetime is finite.

“What if you don’t do enough?” it asks. It’s like a punch to the gut, then my brain gets overhauled by my to do list. I hate it sometimes, and I’m sure the people in my life do, too. How do I temper the madness? I’d try to sleep, but my mind still runs into the early morning hours. A beer or wine? Sure, I could try, but after the second beverage I’d be questioning why the hell I’m not scripting some dialogue. It’s a cycle that I’m not particularly proud of.

Today, I finished some things that I needed to do. Tomorrow, there will be more, and next month, there will be a brand-new list. I will sit in my car, eyes strained and hand cramping, thinking about all the things that I need to do.

Nocturnes

I spent last Sunday with Neil Gaiman in Downtown Houston, and it was wonderful. He answered questions, read stories (including a beautifully poetic ode to Neil Adams and Batman), and gave us two hours of his whimsical personality. I had such a good time listening to him that my girlfriend and I immediately went home after the show and found his featured documentary. We listened to him for another hour and a half. There’s not much more that I can say about Neil that fans of literature don’t already know. His novels and short stories are staples of the fantasy horror genre. His comics revolutionized the medium, paving the way for non-traditional comic storytelling and art. Now, his film and show adaptations are taking over streaming services. All this, and when Neil speaks, he feels like a friend. Humble, relatable, captivating. You’re as engrossed in his speech as you are when reading that first conversation between Dream and Death. He’s a master of the writing craft and a fantastic speaker who exudes passion for his fans.

In today’s overly critical and confrontational society, it’s so refreshing to be in the presence of a creative voice like Neil’s. That alone was worth the price of admission. It was a great night, and the next time Neil comes to your town, do yourself a favor and snag a ticket.

Thanks for your time,

Nico