2280: Three Wishes

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For a man of my age, I probably give the whole question of “what would you wish for if you got three wishes?” rather more time and attention in my head than it deserves, what with it being something (probably) impossible, but it’s something to keep my mind occupied with when I’m trying and failing to fall asleep.

I’ve had numerous possible answers over the years — never resorting to “I wish I had three more wishes”, I might add — but right now, at a particularly shitty point in my life, I find myself settled on three pretty-much definite answers.

1. I wish my wife and I would be in 100% perfect health, mentally and physically. I’ve struggled with mental health for more years than I was probably aware of it, and it hasn’t gotten any easier over the years. In fact, as I get older, it’s got more and more difficult, particularly since several attempts to get a career started have gone nowhere — often through no fault of my own, as in the case of my misadventures in games journalism — and left me feeling increasingly useless and worthless to the world at large with each passing year.
Alongside that, my wife has been struggling with a chronic pain condition that I’m always forgetting the name of for well over a year now, and it’s taking its toll on both of us. She’s been off work for several months now, and the pain has had a severe effect on both her mental health and, by extension, since I’m unable to offer any sort of help besides just being here when I can, my own as well.

If we were both 100% perfectly healthy mentally and physically, we could get on with enjoying our lives the way we both want to. Life wouldn’t feel like a constantly uphill struggle which, frankly, it does at the moment.
2. I wish I had a million pounds. It may be a cliche to wish for a large amount of money, but if I had a large amount of money, it would remove the other main stressor in my life that is at least partly related to our physical and mental health issues: money worries. I don’t even want to buy anything particularly extravagant with my hypothetical fortune; I’d simply pay off my debts, quit my job and continue living the way I do at the moment, pursuing my own passion projects in my own time without having to worry about where the money to pay the next bills and the mortgage is going to come from. The rest of the money would simply go towards day-to-day expenses and perhaps a few guilt-free treats.
3. I wish I had the ability to switch between being a man and a woman at will. This one is less grounded in my actual real-life everyday existence right now, since having the ability to do this wouldn’t make my current situation any better, but it’s something that I’ve always returned to when pondering this question, and a concept in general that I’ve always found fascinating from the perspective of walking in “someone else’s” shoes. I won’t lie, part of my curiosity in this regard is sexual in nature — I mean, come on — but also I feel it would just be interesting to be able to switch between two completely different bodies and appearances at will, making use of the most “appropriate” one for various situations, whatever that might mean.

So there’s my three wishes. If any Internet-connected genies are watching, I will happily accept just the first two if you’re running a bit short on mystic mojo.

2273: One an Hour

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(11:23) Today I am going to write one sentence each hour.

(12:35) It’s going well so far; I’ve remembered to follow up the first sentence with this one.

(13:26) Could do with a poo; not currently in an ideal situation to do so.

(14:22) Still need a poo, but I will survive, dammit; I will survive!

(15:07) Semicolons sure are useful for exercises like this; they effectively allow me to cheat the system and write more than one sentence at once.

(16:15). Lacerated my thumb on a security box; now both of my thumbs have been mangled by retail work.

(17:31) I’m having a poo; at last, sweet relief, and after this I’m going to go and play some old Atari games before dinner thanks to the excellent compilation Atari Vault.

(18:58) Ooh, nearly forgot to write something this hour; got in there with two minutes to spare.

(19:53) Gave the Prison Break heist in Grand Theft Auto Online another go; we still can’t nail that last part, though this time our failure was more due to the game glitching than actual incompetence for once.

(23:05) GOD FUCKING DAMMIT.

See, I could have been dishonest there and just made up sentences for the hours I forgot about, but my integrity means too much to pull the wool over your eyes in such a manner, dear reader.

Oh well, it was fun while it lasted; certainly made working on a Sunday a smidgen more palatable. I have tomorrow off, which is nice; I do like a nice midweek day off, although I only have one before it’s back to work for three days. I shouldn’t complain, I guess; it’s money, and the place where I work so far appears to be inoffensive enough for the time being.

Tomorrow will be spent sleeping, completing some freelance work assignments and playing lots of video games, in that order. The remainder of this evening will be spent playing video games, too.

2272: Mistakes Happen

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One thing I’ve learned about myself over the last few years is that I learn most effectively by making mistakes. Once I make a mistake once, I tend not to make it again.

This is quite an effective means of learning, which is why the expression “learn from your mistakes” is a thing, presumably, but in my case I think it comes from the very real fear of being wrong, of doing something wrong, of being judged incompetent at something — even something I know deep down that I’m perfectly competent at.

Impostor syndrome is a very real thing, and I know quite a few people who suffer from it — including myself. It’s the constant and occasionally paralysing fear that you won’t be able to do something, or that you’ve found your way into a situation that you don’t “belong” in, and that you’ll be “found out” by someone at some point, then punished in some way for being somewhere you don’t “belong”.

I’ve felt impostor syndrome a whole lot over the years. I felt it in teaching, even though I regularly got positive feedback on my lessons — feeling like I didn’t “belong” wasn’t helped by the fact that I’m simply not an assertive enough person to control a room full of 30 teenagers, of course. I felt it in games journalism, where I always felt like I was enormously lucky to have the positions I did have — again, even when I received positive feedback on the efficiency, accuracy and engaging…ness of my work. And I’ve felt it in the retail positions I’ve held, being hesitant to perform certain duties for fear of doing them “wrong” and fucking things up for other people.

I think that latter point is the most important part for my brain: it’s not necessarily a fear of failure that gives me difficulty, but more a fear that I’ll do something wrong that affects someone else in a negative way, and that they will, consequently, be upset, annoyed or angry at me as a result. In my experience, it’s actually pretty rare for someone to get upset, annoyed or angry at me as the result of a mistake I’ve made — probably because most of the mistakes I’ve made over the years have actually been pretty minor and, for normal people, nothing to worry about whatsoever.

That’s the thing, though; part of this whole sense of anxiety is feeling like any mistake is the worst thing ever, and that it will be a permanent stain on your record for all eternity. You’ll always be “the guy who messed up that one time”. You only have one chance to prove yourself, and if you blow it, your days are numbered.

I know that these things aren’t true, of course, and becoming very much aware of the fact that I do clearly learn from making mistakes is making me feel a bit more positive about the whole thing. Most of the mistakes I make in my day-to-day life are as a result of not knowing something rather than any actual incompetence, and so it doesn’t serve any particularly useful purpose to dwell on them or feel bad: if they’re the result of not knowing something, then a good means of not making that mistake again (and, by extension, feeling bad about making a mistake) is to find out the thing I don’t know and remember it. And because there’s such a strong incentive at stake, I tend to really remember those things I learn in this way.

It may not be a particularly ideal way of doing things — in an ideal world, no-one would make any mistakes whatsoever and everything would be the very picture of perfection and efficiency — but it works for me. And besides, an ideal world sounds kinda boring, doesn’t it? Because there can be a funny side to mistakes, too, and the other thing I’m starting to realise and accept is that it’s all right to laugh at mistakes both you and others make — in fact, it’s important to, because laughter can help defuse negative feelings and show that really, in the grand scheme of things, the mistake itself doesn’t matter all that much to anyone involved.

Tomorrow I will probably make some more mistakes. Tomorrow I will probably learn some new things. By the end of tomorrow, perhaps I will be a slightly better person.

2271: Pledging for Positivity

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A short, somewhat belated entry today, as last night was… not good, to say the least.

I’ve been thinking. Partly following a discussion with my friend Chris after my post from the other day, and partly after watching this video from TotalBiscuit:

Negativity isn’t getting anyone anywhere. Negativity is not effecting social change for those who believe in such things, and negativity is not going to change the mind of people who have their minds stubbornly made up about the things they believe.

As such, here and now, I’m going to make a pledge for positivity — and not for the first time — and try my very best to stick to it, for my own sanity if anything else.

I don’t like getting angry and upset about things; it puts me in a bad mood and often ruins my day. It might make me feel good that I’m expressing my frustration at a situation, but ultimately all a good rage achieves is letting other people who already share my views know that they’re not alone, while failing to change the mind of those who are stubbornly entrenched in their own ideology. And while the former aspect of that can be valuable, the latter is completely unhelpful.

So I’m going to stick to the positive things — at least, I’m going to try to. I’m going to celebrate the things I love, and do my best to explain why I love the things I love.

I’ve actually already made a bit of a start on this over on my other site MoeGamer, with two articles so far on Senran Kagura Estival Versus: one introducing the game, and a second exploring its historical context and game mechanics. Over the course of the rest of the month, I’m going to write about its narrative, characterisation and aesthetics, too, so watch out for those.

I need good things in my life right now. And that means consciously trying to avoid that which makes me miserable.

2255: Things I Feel Irrationally Weird About Saying Out Loud

Number 9,752 in my List of Things That I Don’t Quite Understand About Myself is the fact that there are some things I feel irrationally weird about saying out loud.

Normal things, to be clear; the sort of things that regular people probably happily say out loud without a second though. And yet I always feel peculiar whenever I’m put in a situation where I might have to say one of them, and will often do everything I can to avoid saying the thing in question.

Here is a non-exhaustive list.

My own name. I’ve felt awkward about saying my name — particularly my full, non-abbreviated name — ever since I was little. I find it hard to pin down exactly why this is or what set me off thinking this way in the first place, but I have a feeling it has something to do with how much I disliked my speaking voice when I was growing up; I used to absolutely hate hearing recordings of myself, both before and after my voice broke, because I really didn’t like my accent and the way I pronounced things. I actually have reasonably good diction for the most part; when I was little — and to an extent even now — I worried that I sounded “too posh”, and the name “Peter” is a name that it is very difficult to make sound cool when you sound even the slightest bit posh. As such, I have gravitated towards “Pete” ever since, but still avoid saying it out loud whenever possible.
Other people’s names. I know lots of people on first-name terms. I hate calling any of them by name. Unlike my hang-ups about my own name, this is nothing to do with not liking their names — it’s a peculiar reaction I have where I feel that someone’s name has significant power and meaning to a person, and that using it in a carefree manner to attract their attention or address something to them is somehow insulting. This is, of course, complete nonsense, since we rely on our names to identify ourselves to one another. I feel this one may be something to do with my own reaction to my own name: perhaps I’m subconsciously worrying that other people don’t like hearing or saying their own name too.
Tummy/belly. Stomach. Always stomach. My stomach hurts. I have a stomachache. Never, ever, ever I have a tummyache or a bellyache. Why? My reaction to these words is that they are somehow “childish” and not something an adult should be saying. Once again, this is nonsense, of course, but I still just can’t bring myself to say them.
Variations on “goodbye”. I hate saying goodbye. Not in the romantic “I hate goodbyes!” sense, but in the fact that I simply hate saying goodbye, bye-bye, see you later, see you round, ta-ta for now, bye. I honestly don’t know where this one has come from because saying “goodbye” is a fundamental part of human interaction: it’s a means of demonstrating that your time with someone else has now ended, and that you are going to go elsewhere and/or speak to someone else. Perhaps I think it’s “rude” somehow — that I always think the other person I’m speaking to should be the one to terminate the interaction? I don’t know, but what I do know is that it’s ruder to leave without saying goodbye, which I have been known to do on numerous occasions simply to avoid this hideous awkwardness.
Excuse me. “Excuse me” tends to go hand-in-hand with speaking to strangers, and I do not like speaking to strangers, particularly those I perceive to have more “power” than me in a particular situation. Which is, to be honest, most people most of the time. This one I kind of understand, but it’s still fairly irrational.
Toilet. I cringe every time I use the Americanism “bathroom” to mean “toilet”, but I still use it anyway, particularly when in an unfamiliar place or with unfamiliar people. “Do you have a bathroom I can use?” Of course you do, what sort of house would it be if you didn’t? Somehow I see framing the question in this manner as more polite than “Can I use your toilet?” — evidently my mind subconsciously converts “can I use your toilet?” to “can I get my penis out and spray urine into something in your house?” which results in feelings of shame.

I’m pretty sure there are more, but making this list is depressing me about my own lack of social skills. (Not really, but, well, that’s probably enough to be getting on with for now.) So let’s leave it there for now. I may well return to this topic if I think of some more!

2253: It is the Piece of a Smile Everyone Acquires

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I’ve already written generally about how much I like yuri/shoujo ai slice-of-life anime Yuru Yuri, but I wanted to single out a particular episode as a great example of what this genre does really well: the third season’s eighth episode, boasting the impressively Engrish title It is the Piece of a Smile Everyone Acquires.

Yuru Yuri has a few aspects in common with other, similar slice-of-life shows, but the show it reminds me of most is Squid Girl/Ika Musume — a show where, despite its fantastical, ridiculous premise, manages to be oddly believable and comforting in how it depicts its relationships between characters. It’s not so much the thematic similarities that I’m concerned with, more the format: Ika Musume explicitly splits each of its “episodes” into several smaller vignettes that tell miniature stories in their own right, and within these vignettes the show often experiments with form, structure and even aesthetic. Its most striking episodes are the ones where it goes completely off-piste, such as those that feature the “miniature Squid Girl”, whose sequences are completely dialogue-free, and which make wonderful use of music and animation to produce surprisingly evocative, emotive scenes.

The similarities between Yuru Yuri and Ika Musume struck me during the pre-credits opening of It is the Piece of a Smile Everyone Acquires because it adopts a similar approach to the aforementioned “miniature Squid Girl” episodes: it’s completely dialogue-free, focuses on a character that isn’t normally at the forefront (or, in the case of mini-Squid Girl, isn’t normally in the show at all in that form) and does all its storytelling through its soundtrack.

In the case of It is the Piece of a Smile Everyone Acquires, the episode opens by focusing on the student council president, a character who is so meek and timid that we only ever see her mouthing words in regular episodes; she has no voice, so far as the audience is concerned. The characters always understand, her, though, which is the core joke of her character, but this opening sequence approaches it from a different angle, showing how she understands people — and makes herself understood — without the use of words.

Yuru Yuri already has a wonderfully evocative soundtrack that complements its on-screen action perfectly, but this opening sequence in It is the Piece of a Smile Everyone Acquires takes things to a new level: adopting an almost programmatic approach to its music, with distinctive themes and instrumentation being used for the individual characters who show up over the course of the sequence, it’s a fine example of how words, sometimes, simply aren’t necessary: you can make an interesting and heartwarming piece of art using only visuals and sound. (You can make an interesting and heartwarming piece of art using only one of those things, too, of course, but this is a TV show we’re talking about here; to deliberately refuse to use one of the core features of the medium is noteworthy.)

The rest of the episode is entertaining in itself, too, but somewhat more conventional for the most part; this pre-credits sequence, however, was so striking I felt I had to write something about it. I’d share the video here if it was on YouTube, but no-one appears to have ripped it; you can, however, watch the full episode on Crunchyroll at this link, and I can highly recommend the whole series from the very beginning if you want some enjoyable, lightweight fluff to cheer yourself up with.

2247: Yuru Yuri: Charming, Dumb, Gay as a Window

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I finally started watching the third season of Yuru Yuri, an anime whose first two seasons I found immensely enjoyable despite it being one of those “slice of life” affairs where pretty much nothing of note happens throughout.

Yuru Yuri is packed with charm and some wonderful characters, though, and it’s through the strength of these characters that the show truly shines.

For the uninitiated, Yuru Yuri follows the total lack of adventures of a group of four schoolgirls who form a club that doesn’t really do anything except hang out and drink tea. Over the course of the first couple of series, a few other regular cast members were added, and each of these put in frequent appearances in the third season — so frequent, in fact, that, judging by the new title sequence, they’re now considered to be core members of the cast rather than regular recurring characters.

The astute and/or weebtastic among you will know that yuri is used to refer to Japanese popular media with lesbian undertones (or indeed explicit overtones) and the inclusion of this term in the show’s title is no coincidence. There are no male characters in the show whatsoever, and there are numerous members of the cast — both regular and irregular recurring — who clearly have the hots for another one of the girls.

The most obvious is first-year Chinatsu’s infatuation with her cool, calm and collected senpai Yui, but there’s also the clear attraction between the mostly sensible (but painfully tsundere) student council vice-president Ayano and the utterly chaotic, hilarious Kyouko, who is a total dick but somehow immensely likeable with it. Then there’s former series protagonist Akari’s older sister Akane, who puts up a facade of being the sensible onee-san, but is actually a complete siscon, degenerating into wildly inappropriate acts with Akari’s possessions whenever she’s by herself (or thinks she’s by herself). And Chinatsu’s sister Tomoko, who is infatuated with Akane. And… you get the idea. There’s a whole lot of lady-love going on.

This isn’t an ecchi show by any means, though; the yuri side of things isn’t fetishised at all, and we never actually see anything going on between these characters. It’s a show that, when it deals with feelings of affection, prefers the more romantic side of love in the schoolyard rather than anything overtly sexual. It’s all sidelong glances, lingering looks, wondering if that contact was intentional; of course, some characters make their feelings more obvious than others — Chinatsu and Ayano both being the most obviously gay for their respective objects of affection, albeit in different ways — but still, for the most part, the show depends on the feeling of “will they ever realise or acknowledge their feelings for one another?” and actually resolving one of these strung-out instances of romantic tension would almost certainly throw the rhythm and feel of the show off somewhat.

Mostly, though, Yuru Yuri is a show that makes me feel happy when I watch it. It’s not deep and meaningful and it doesn’t have anything especially profound to say beyond “friends are great”, but it’s always a pleasure to enjoy an episode. It’s one of those shows where you feel like you’re being included in a group of friends just hanging out and having fun; there’s no real point to it all, but it’s nice to experience nonetheless.

2237: The Insufferable Frame-Rate Obsessives May Have a Point

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I upgraded the processor on my PC yesterday. It was the last bit that needed upgrading to make it decently up-to-date, and I’d been meaning to do it for a while. It was also a good excuse to wipe everything, reinstall Windows and have a nice fresh, clean system that wasn’t clogged up with all manner of crap. For a little while, anyway.

PC gaming, for many people, is the relentless pursuit of ever more impressive frame rates, preferably at ever more impressive resolutions. I’ve never felt particularly strongly about either, given that my PC is hooked up to my TV and thus is limited to a maximum of 60 frames per second at 1920×1080 resolution; in other words, anything above 60 simply wouldn’t benefit what was on screen at all, and in fact would often result in unsightly “screen tearing”, where different parts of the screen update at different times. Consequently, I habitually play everything with VSync on, which limits the frame rates to 60 and completely eliminates any tearing. It’s kind of deliberately hobbling performance to look better.

That said, even with a theoretical maximum frame rate of 60, my old processor couldn’t quite keep up with some of the more modern games. I have a decent graphics card, so nothing was actually unplayable, but I knew that I could probably get more out of said graphics card with better base hardware. Final Fantasy XIV, for example, ran perfectly well at anywhere between about 30 and 60 frames per second depending on how much was going on at the time — it would be pretty damn smooth in the relative peace and quiet of instanced dungeons, while the frame rate would drop a fair bit in densely populated areas or busy battle scenes with lots of players. I’m not someone that these frame rate disparities bothered a great deal, but they were noticeable.

So with some degree of curiosity, after assembling the new bits and pieces and putting my computer back together, I fired up Final Fantasy XIV to investigate if the performance was any better. After a little fiddling with settings — previously, it ran better in “borderless windowed” mode, while now it runs better in dedicated full-screen mode — I was very pleased to discover that it was now running at an absolutely rock-solid 60 frames per second, constantly, regardless of what was happening on the screen at the time. It didn’t make a massive difference to the visual fidelity of the game, but it was nice.

Then I jumped into a dungeon, and the true nature of the improvements better hardware brought on became apparent. While the graphics had never really struggled much in dungeons — except with the bizarre bug in the old DirectX 9 version of the game where facing certain directions would cause your frame rate to tank, presumably because the game was trying to render more “out of sight” stuff at once — what really became obvious as I was running with my new hardware was how much more responsive everything was. While the background graphics never really struggled much on my old rig, you could occasionally see things like the interface elements juddering a bit, particularly the damage numbers and status messages that scroll up and down the screen during combat, keeping you informed of what’s happening.

Now, those messages are just as smooth as the animations and effects. More importantly, the controls are significantly more responsive, because there aren’t any “dead frames”, for want of a better word, where the game doesn’t register a button input for whatever reason. It was a minor issue before; now it’s completely absent, which is lovely. I hadn’t anticipated quite how lovely it would be, but it really is; knowing that my performance can no longer be hampered by the complexity of the visuals on screen or how much is happening at the same time around me is a thoroughly pleasant feeling, and, surprisingly, makes the game more enjoyable.

So okay, I’ll admit it; frame rate does make a difference. Sometimes. I maintain that “cinematic”-style experiences such as adventure games and their ilk don’t particularly benefit from 60fps visuals — they can look nice, but if you’re going with realistic imagery, 30fps can sometimes look more “natural” as it’s closer to the frame rate of film and TV — but in games where precision and split-second timing are important — fighting games, shoot ’em ups, arcade games, MMOs such as Final Fantasy XIV — smoother hardware performance leads to smoother player performance. Which is kinda cool.

Oh, and no, I haven’t tried Crysis yet.

2234: Is VR Really Going to Take Off?

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I have, believe it or not, a friend. I have several, in fact, but this friend’s name is Tom. Tom primarily spends his money on bits and pieces for his PC, and is extremely excited about the impending virtual reality revolution — so much so that he’s bought an incredible “gaming chair” with attached steering wheel, pedals and HOTAS (Hands On Throttle And Stick) control scheme, ready to play everything from Elite: Dangerous to a variety of racing games in glorious, stereoscopic, head-tracking 3D.

Me, I’m yet to be convinced by the value of VR. I know that theoretically it should be enormously exciting, but at present, there are two big things that put me off: firstly, the cost, which, for however much HTC and Oculus might try to argue that they’re making VR more mainstream, is well out of the budget of most people; and secondly the fact that there’s still a fundamental disconnect between yourself and the virtual reality into which you’re trying to immerse yourself.

There’s not a lot to say about the cost, really — it’s a lot, I can’t afford it, because I’d have to upgrade my PC as well as buy all the hardware, that’s about it — so I’ll focus on the latter aspect, because that’s what bothers me about the technology long-term.

There are certain applications for which VR seems ideally suited. Something like Elite: Dangerous, for example, will likely be very good indeed, because the entire Elite experience is based on you sitting in a chair in your spaceship cockpit, flipping switches and jiggling joysticks in order to fly around and do spacey things. Likewise, driving games will also be very good, since again, the experience is based around you sitting in a chair holding on to a steering wheel for dear life. In other words, the experiences that my friend Tom is already pretty much set up for will probably be pretty good, though I do still find myself wondering how you’ll find the right buttons to press with a bloody great helmet attached to your face — particularly if you’re not using a fancy-pants HOTAS setup.

It’s when we get into other types of experience that I feel the disconnect between the real and the virtual will be somewhat more jarring. Anything first-person would theoretically be excellent in VR, were it not for the fact that you’re not actually going anywhere; the lack of physicality to motion through the world seems like something that would be very disconcerting indeed. There are companies that are attempting to get around this very issue, most notably with a big-ass treadmill-like thing that allows you to actually physically walk in order to control your motion through the game world, but at this point you’re escalating the already substantial costs of VR even further just to get the feeling of immersion that VR is theoretically supposed to provide.

I don’t know. I think my issue is that I’m yet to see a true “killer app” for VR; something which, without a doubt, shows that VR is the absolute only way to do this. Until that killer app comes along — or technology improves to allow things like true haptic feedback and a true feeling of physically inhabiting “another world” — then I shall remain both cautious and skeptical about the whole thing, and very surprised if it takes off with anyone but the most dedicated enthusiasts of expensive lumps of plastic wired up to their computer.

2227: Filling the Days

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Anyone who has been out of work will know how frustrating it is to be in that “waiting” period while you have some applications out and no idea whether or not you’re going to hear back from any of them. It seems that most companies these days use the catch-all get-out clause of there being a “very high volume of applications”, thus absolving themselves of any responsibility for actually delivering an answer to unsuccessful applicants — or even acknowledging them at all, in some cases. (I know that rationally speaking there probably is a very high volume of applications and it would be very difficult to respond to all of them, but it’s still fucking rude.)

As I noted a while ago, I’ve been trying my best to fill my days while this waiting is going on. I’ve been looking for jobs in various fields — preferably those I can perform a bit more flexibly and/or from home — and applying to a few as well as continuing with the trickle of regular-ish freelance work I’ve been undertaking, but doing that all day every day is a sure-fire recipe for wanting to fall asleep and not wake up again.

So there have been a number of ways I’ve been keeping occupied. There’s video games, of course, but those aren’t especially “productive”, though they do provide useful fodder for writing about various topics, which is handy, as well as something I can talk about with people. That’s something that’s actually quite important, particularly when you’re stuck at home: it’s a tremendously awkward position to find yourself in when you’re at a social occasion and you realise you have literally nothing of note to contribute to any conversation. (As a socially anxious person, I feel like this most of the time, so it’s best not to give myself any actual ammunition to back this up.)

I’ve been continuing to work on my book. I figured out that my writing software Scrivener has a “target” option with exciting progress bars that fill up for both your complete project and your session target, so you can have that RPG-like experience of filling bars and feeling all happy and satisfied when they’re full. I’m not yet sure what a reasonable target for each session is — I can knock out 1,500 words in one sitting without too much difficulty, but that doesn’t feel like very much and I kind of want to try and keep my momentum going without burning myself out. I’m sure I’ll pin down a suitable target; perhaps I’ll increase it little by little from 1,500 with each session and see what feels comfortable. As for the book itself, recommendations online seem to suggest a length of 80-100k words is a suitable length, so I’m aiming at the lower end of that spectrum as a minimum target; since I’m a verbose sort of chap, that leaves me some leeway to go over, whereas if I aimed specifically for 100k as a minimum, I’d have to excise big chunks to get the word count down, which is something I don’t like doing; every word is sacred, or something.

Currently, the project is at 21,000 words or so, which is quite good going — or about a quarter of the way through, if you want to look at it another way. I’m enjoying getting back into the swing of things; while I write on this blog every day and have even indulged in some creative writing on here on several occasions, simply sitting down and writing a story for the sake of writing a story rather than “because oh shit I need a blog post for today” is an enjoyable experience that stimulates my already rather overactive imagination; I’ll probably write more about how I feel while I’m writing on another occasion, as I think it’s an interesting discussion.

Aside from this, I have some other things to be getting on with, too: there’s a second edition of the Digitally Downloaded magazine in the works, and I have Japanese studies to be getting on with. Or indeed restarting to refresh my memory, since it’s been a little while since I last engaged with them. I am pleasantly surprised how much hiragana have stayed with me since my last dedicated effort to learn, though; my next hurdle — and the one that tends to stall me each time — is katakana, but I’m sure with a bit of effort I’ll be able to conquer it. Then I can get depressed at knowing I’ll never, ever know all the kanji.

Anyway. That’s how I’m filling my days at the moment. While none of this is making me any money, sadly, a few of these things do at least have the potential to lead somewhere in the future. Perhaps my book will sell. Perhaps I’ll learn enough Japanese to be able to do something with it. Perhaps the magazine will take off and we’ll be able to start charging for it. Who knows? While I have this time, it’s worth exploring these things rather than getting depressed about the fact that jobs in the traditional sense seem to be extremely, frustratingly, infuriatingly difficult to come by these days, particularly when you yourself aren’t really sure what you’re qualified and/or skilled enough to do…