2024: The Year of Setbacks, Sadness and Hope

There are so many things I want to say. So many things I want to express. I could write this a thousand times in a thousand ways and still not fully get my point across. So, rather than overthink it, I’ll just write it.

Setbacks and Sadness

2024 has not been the year I thought it might be, professionally, personally and creatively.

There are many things I thought would go differently. Many things that didn't happen and many things I wish didn't happen.

In December, I'm left feeling as lost and uncertain, unsure and just as down as I was at the end of 2023. At the end of 2023, I had much to be happy about. I had won a challenge, released my first book and received more sales and reviews than I had imagined given the distinct lack of publicity I put into the launch. However, I still felt clawing, and clammy, "What's next?"

Just as content writing work seemed to pick up again, AI made it harder for my clients to justify the cost of my services.

My Uncle Claudio had been diagnosed with cancer a couple of years previously, but it was in the first quarter of 2023 that we found out it was inoperable, and he would die from it.

So far, so shit.

And it just seemed to go from shit to shitter, with every passing week and month.

Amid all the heaviness, though, there were glimmers of light—moments that reminded me what’s worth holding on to.

Glimmers of Greatness

There were glimmers of greatness in a couple of caravan breaks that my wife and I took together. It was our first time away as a couple for a few years. The breaks were great—relaxing and a lot of laidback fun.

Time away from the usual and familiar, away to enjoy being Paul and Ruth, rather than all our respective roles and what they entail. The weather was nice on both occasions, and the accommodation was reasonable.

I started by saying that, creatively, this year did not go as I thought it might. That is not strictly true, not in the way that it sounds.

I didn't win any more challenges, and my sales slowed down (which to be fair, was expected, given that I did dick-all promotion and marketing for it, aside from the odd reminder on Vocal).

However, let’s stop and focus on that self-published book for a moment.

When I think about it, that poetry collection is a beacon. Two years ago, I hadn’t written poetry seriously, but now I’ve published a book and am planning the next. That’s growth, even if it’s quieter and harder to measure than other milestones.

That poetry collection is more than a book—it’s proof that growth happens, even in tough years. It’s the tangible result of countless small steps forward, each one harder than the last but all worth it.

Many other things happened creatively, in terms of how well my skills developed. I believe, contrary to whatever the lack of challenge wins and placements suggests, my skills for poetry and storytelling have sharpened over the last year. So, for that, I am immensely proud. I am sure I want to look beyond the safety net and comfort zone of Vocal and branch out, and, I have already entered a non-Vocal challenge. (NYC Midnight's 250-word micro-fiction challenge). The promise of feedback regardless of if I progress in the competition or not, was a big selling point for taking part.

I am also pleased with my entry into the competition. It's one of my favourite micro's I've written.

I also had several successes in unofficial challenges, which I value greatly because our peers decide the results. I trust them more in many ways than the faceless Vocal Curation Team, rightly or wrongly.

Ill Health and Poor Personal Growth

Healthwise and personally, it's not been my favourite year. There have been highs, but a lot of lows. Emotionally and physically. My depression and anxiety have kicked my arse to the curb more times than I'd care to remember.

I still have trouble looking in the mirror and dealing with the accusatory face staring back at me.

December has been great so far. My wife and I went to see Fontaines D.C., and four days later, we, along with our sons, went to see Vampire Weekend. With one more gig just around the corner, Travis on the 21st, it's fair to say that music, has saved the day as it often does.

As I sit writing this though, what I wanted to do was put it all into perspective.

This year has painfully taught me how much work I still have to do on myself. But it’s also shown me how much strength it takes to keep trying when it feels impossible.

Putting it all into Perspective

I know extremely well, sadly, that others have had even less spectacular years than me (It's not a competition, of course, and I am sure and hope the people I'm referring to know who they are). A lot of my poetry and fiction has not been incredibly positive. What can I say? I write what I feel. I'd rather be honest than hide crap. Writing for me is a release, a way to express myself, so I'm not about to abuse the privilege by putting on a happy face.

That being said, though, not sugarcoating the shit does not mean wallowing in the mire without offering encouragement or inspiration to others that might be in a similar place and state of mind.

I've always enjoyed being able to lift people and use my words and their power for good.

So, rather than end this on a miserable note, I wanted to say...

If you are sitting there, reading this and nodding in agreement, or recognise your own experiences, your own worse experiences than my own and you are happy to say goodbye to 2024.

If you are sitting there, finding it difficult to meet your reflection's gaze when you stare in the mirror because of regret, frustration at lack of progress, mistakes, fuckups, and missteps. I know and understand at least a little how you are feeling.

If you are struggling with health issues or mental issues. I am struggling with you.

If you are struggling with career/employment issues or a lack of direction creatively, so am I.

It's okay.

It's really okay.

Life is not always hard and damn does that sound like the shittiest platitude ever, but it's true.

Lesson: Don’t Give Up On Hope, Joy and Love

Does that mean you should give up and give in?

Does it fuck.

Please... don't—would be my most sincere plea.

I mean, it's really up to you, and I am not your keeper. I'm a friend (especially if you are reading this and are one of the many people I consider friends on this platform) Even if you don’t know me and this is the first time you have ever read anything from me, know that this is for you.

I don't want you to give up, but, I won't dictate your life.

All I want you to do is take a leaf out of my book.

Or at least consider it, a possibility.

Things are feeling heavy, but are they always going to be heavy?

In all likelihood, no. Let's be realistic. Life is all highs and lows. Not relentlessly dark and grey days with no light in sight.

It can feel that way, but it really isn't.

If you're sitting, there thinking, "Is it really worth it? Is it really worth anything?"

My emphatic response would be "yes"

I am not a guru, a life coach, a sage and wise mage, an elder of the community to whom those who seek answers to their questions and queries look. Like I said, I’m just Paul—a writer trying to find my way. But if I’ve learned anything this year, the light is worth waiting for. And so are you.

I have struggles and flaws and a laundry list of mistakes I still beat myself up for.

I also see hope on the horizon. I am still married, despite the many times I could easily have lost everything. I am still alive, despite how many often I wanted to change that.

Maybe you feel the same. Is being alive enough? Even when everything is turning to absolute shite?

Yes. Yes, it is.

Is it worth writing even if you are not winning challenges, getting that four-book deal, or making as much money as you had dreamed you might?

If you love writing, then yes, it is.

Things feel heavy now, but they won’t always be. Life moves in cycles, and the light finds its way back eventually. Writing is worth it—even if you’re not winning prizes or selling books. Living is worth it—even when everything feels like it’s turning to shite.

Write that story. Take that step forward. Let this year be the one you remember—not for its weight, but for your resilience. You’re still here, and that’s everything.

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: I wanted to write something more positive and encouraging, inspirational and motivational. Although this does delve into the darker recesses of my state of mind this year and just the absolute crap, I think it is ultimately more positive than some of my most recent pieces. When I say it is for you, you know who you are, I really who the individuals do know it. It's for anyone who has not had the best year, or the best half of the year, or just needs a little reassurance.

You all matter. Especially my peers, associates, friends, rivals and compatriots (pick and choose the descriptors you think best describe you). You matter because you matter and you matter because I said you matter. So deal with it.

I've already thanked you all before, but I shall do it again. I can only gift my words. When I am a rich poet, I shall gift you all more. (har har har)

Anyway. Enough rambling. I decided to take on this challenge with a more stream-of-consciousness-style piece because I just had too many things I wanted to say. There are probably other things I will want to say, but I think it best sums it all up.