NINJA STUFF: Author, Year Seven (2020)

Esteemed Reader, 2020... was a year.

Before I write one more word, I feel compelled to acknowledge right up front that I am blessed in ways it hasn't even occurred to me I'm blessed. I survived the year in relative comfort, considering the horrifying alternatives all around me. As of this posting, my family is healthy, our financial situation actually improved, and I got to chat with a bunch of amazing people on the podcast who even I couldn't believe agreed to come on the show:) If ever there was a year for me to have lived with gratitude, it was this one.

If I hadn't committed to writing these posts every New Years, I'd probably just be quiet this year. I'm not really writing this for those of you that lived through 2020. You know what it was like and many of you had a far worse year than I did. This is a post for future me, the me who may try to remember this year as an idyllic time as parts of it were indeed the best of times. But as a famous writer fellow once wrote, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."

This year has profoundly and forever changed me in ways I haven't fully processed yet. A few months back, I was trying to turn left on a busy street, cars rushing by too close on my right. A truck coming the opposite direction very, VERY nearly hit me. The panicked look on the driver's face assured me he also thought this was it. After I made my turn, I parked and took deep breaths, trying to will myself to keep driving.

That's where I'm at in terms of processing 2020.

FAVORITE MEDIA OF 2020

Let's ease into this post by first discussing the many wonderful videogames I played this year. When last we left our hero at the end of 2019, he was excited to have secured an excellent deal on a used Nintendo Switch Lite and hopeful about the year ahead. Well, I was right about the Nintendo:) That turned out to be a pretty prescient purchase as my childhood friends Mario and Link helped me maintain some calm through a lot of sleepless nights.

And God bless the good people at Ubisoft for Assassin's Creed Black Flag, and, later, Assassin's Creed Odyssey (3rd time through!) and, later still, Assassin's Creed Vahalla (I'm still stunned by its beauty). Special shoutout to the unofficial Assassin's Creed games I also loved, Ghost of Tsushima and Immortals: Fenyx Rising. I actually finished none of these games, but I played long stretches of them. You're doing the Lord's work, video game companies, and I couldn't have survived this year without you.

To the makers of my favorite video game of 2020,  Maneater: I love you and wish for a million sequels. 

Before I tell you anything more about my 2020, know that it ends with me receiving a Play Station 5 shipped to my home on November 12th, the first brand-new console I have ever owned on launch day in my life. I've always bought them used a year or two after release. I played Spider-Man: Miles Morales the day it launched like a member of the 1% and it was amazing (but sooo short). 

And should you think I left out The Last of Us Part II, I had some feelings on that breathtaking game. I enjoyed it, but I really hate Abby, and it wasn't nearly as fun as those Mario Remasters:

Usually, I include my favorite movies of the year in these posts, but since those mostly got canceled and I never list my favorite books, I'll just say I loved the movies I actually got to see: Borat Subsequent Moviefilm and The Witches were lovely and brightened an otherwise dark year. I loved the trailer for The Batman and Hans Zimmer's score for Wonder Woman 1984:)

I found TV mostly difficult to watch as storytelling in which I didn't partially control the pace left too much time for me to start thinking about all my 2020 existential dread. Still, I particularly enjoyed The Outsider, The Boys, and The Mandalorian. Better Call Saul remains the best thing on television.

FEAR AND LOATHING IN 2020

2020 was a year spent mostly apart from the rest of the population, so it was a good year to be a reader and a gamer. If ever I doubt the trajectory of humanity is onward and upward toward greater excellence, let my slack-jawed expression as I played that sweetest of all Spider-man games with haptic feedback webs after thinking a mere Play Station 4 was the best human beings had to offer serve as proof: The future continues to arrive daily and it is glorious, despite being unevenly distributed.

It's important for me to remember that since events of 2020 dramatically lowered my estimation of my fellow humans. I once thought most people were inherently good and when educated and when presented with facts to lift them from their ignorance, they would alter their behavior accordingly.

2020 has recalibrated my idealism.

When I was still going inside grocery stores, every new aisle was a potential episode of terror as people routinely got too close, either not wearing masks, or wearing them improperly, and often glaring at me with malice that was absolutely intended. You scared, Snowflake? Dear Leader said the virus is a hoax and we believe him just as we believe in blond-haired, blue-eyed white Jesus. And you've decided to raise a brown child amongst us when "all lives matter" and "reverse racism is the real racism."

His mother and I got engaged in 2007, the year before Barack Obama was elected. This country seemed a much, much better place for us to live then. Imperfect, but hopefully improving.

I've a greater respect now for the madness of history. Future generations will hopefully not fully relate to the relentless assault of life under the flaming cross in the United States' front lawn that was Donald J. Trump. 73+ million of my fellow Americans cast votes for Donald "fine-people-on-many-sides" Trump, agreeing that four more years of continued inject-yourself-with-disinfectant-ha-ha-but-also-I-told-Bob-Woodward-I-knew-the-truth-all-along-and-I've-been-knowingly-INTENTIONALLY-infecting-the-country madness was somehow desirable.

I don't know how to process that information.

Let historians take note that the trauma of the Covid-19 pandemic wasn't just the disruption of our lives or the loss of family and friends or the economic turmoil, but living with the horrific knowledge that our government wanted to spread the disease among the population. We had to watch the United States crumble without any assurance it wouldn't collapse (knock on wood as we're a long way from solid).

I engaged in a series of ill-advised emails with some Trump supporters. I put thought and effort into those emails I might've better poured into a new novel. I appealed to logic, I presented facts, I got angry, sad, full-on belligerently enraged, and then I despaired. I came to understand we're not reading the same news or living in the same world. 

They have no problem contorting their minds to accept obvious lies from an authority figure, a practice for which religious upbringing makes an excellent primer. There's no way to bridge that gap as they've chosen willful ignorance and pledged loyalty to a death cult.

We can't agree to disagree when what's being disputed is reality. Yet somehow we have to live together or accept the inevitability of civil war. So that's where we are.

CATHARSIS

Despite my deep reservoirs of righteous rage, do I actually believe Republicans will answer for their crimes and their sedition? Do I believe there will ever be any real accountability for those at the top? How many bankers went to jail after the financial crises of 2007-2008 again? How many months in prison did Aunt Becky serve?

Something became immediately clear to me on election night 2020 as my home state of Indiana flipped bright hateful red during the first hour of ballot counting despite all my Tweets and Facebook posts and crushing anxiety because I was compelled to think about Trump at least once a day every day for four long years. That red state surrounding my brown child felt personal.

On that night, I learned my speaking directly to politics appears to make no difference in the world, or at least, not enough of one. 

Is this where I tell you I'm done with politics forever? Of course not, and if I did, you shouldn't believe me. Is this where I tell you there is no hope because people are trash? Nah. There's always hope and I know plenty of wonderful Hoosiers who wear their masks and practice empathy and are appropriately horrified by the right's embrace of racism and authoritarianism. 

What I've lost faith in is methodology, not the cause. If an angry Facebook post made the world better, it would've happened by now, and it would've been penned by an author far more capable than me:) If pointing out facts and logic was a winning strategy, our celebrities would be scientists and philosophers instead of beautiful people who speak witty dialogue others wrote (this line would probably have greater resonance if it didn't follow a gif of Ben Affleck). 

I still believe there are ways to make the world gradually better and that more of us doing them makes a better world. I just want to adopt more of a be-about-it-don't-talk-about-it motto.  Although, fun fact, I included similar sentiments in last year's post. 

Hopefully, if Trump really goes away, I can actually make good on this resolution in 2021: not to be apolitical (I'll still be me and occasionally unable to help myself), but to indirectly approach politics. 

PODCASTING DURING THE APPOCALYPSE

This little blog of mine turned a decade old this year (time, you wicked thing, you move too fast). I might be hopelessly romantic, but I remain convinced that reading fiction increases empathy and intelligence. Doing my part to increase literacy and the celebration of the written word is very political indeed and an act of optimism.

In March, during the late start of quarantine, I considered pulling the plug on the podcast as I didn't know if it would still be appropriate or feasible. Also, I wasn't sure I wanted to leave a record of myself during this time. I can hear the fear and despair in my voice in a few episodes and my interesting 2020 hairstyles and weights will be forever preserved on YouTube, but I'm so grateful for the opportunity to have chatted with so many admirable folks. 

Those conversations gave me something to look forward to and enjoy in a year when there wasn't much of that. I started both this blog and its podcast with no real plan in mind and so it remains. I've improved as I went and proceeded with the principal that an imperfect something is better than a perfect nothing.

The most recent episode of the podcast officially marked 100 shows. I don't know how long the show will continue. It's a fair amount of work and 2020 has made it clear life can change dramatically at any time. But these long conversations with amazing writers and publishing professionals have taught me more about writing than anything else I've ever done. I hope Esteemed Audience feels as though they're learning as well.

I may go on to record another 900 episodes or  more. I might be forced to put the show on hiatus or quit it altogether depending on life circumstances. Should that happen, it won't erase the joy I've felt in each of those conversations. I'm as proud of the 100 episodes that exist as I am of my novels. I'm thrilled people all around the world are tuning in because my guests said a whole lot of brilliant things worth hearing.

WRITING WITH LESS URGENCY

It's good that 2020 was my best podcasting year as it was far from my best writing year. If you're wondering what I did with my time instead, just check out my long list of favorite videogames at the top of this post. I also reread a bunch of favorite books and the entire run of The Walking Dead (God bless you, Robert Kirkman) in addition to keeping up with reading for the podcast.

And I sat and stared at my computer for long stretches. And I doom scrolled. And I redid my YouTube videos, which was very time consuming and a really excellent way to avoid to writing. YouTube is part of my author platform, so that's like, writing adjacent, right?

I had planned to release Banneker Bones and the Cyborg Conspiracy over the summer, but I received enough brilliant suggestions from early readers in the spring, that I decided to do a major rewrite instead. That's not unheard of for me and I would've hit all my deadlines, but 2020 happened.

I enrolled in virtual first grade with my son and we kept him home all year. Mrs. Ninja also stopped leaving the house, forcing me to be creative in finding times to be creative.

And even when I found that time, I had to force myself to put aside my constant dread that police sure do seem to be shooting a lot of boys who look like mine and saying they should stop is somehow a volatile political statement!?!?! and another massive super spreader event held by morons who hate science is killing a bunch of us and somehow Moscow Mitch McConnell mandates life for an entire country and no one stops him even though he's just one frail old man who could easily be stopped if the sort of Americans who fought King George were still around and oh my God, who amongst this vile, ignorant Trump-loving populace would even appreciate the majestic novel I would definitely craft if I could stop checking Twitter for 30 minutes?

(Gollum never looked this greedy for power)

I keep up with enough writers and other creatives to know I wasn't alone. Some writers I've known for years gave up writing completely in 2020. Others simply put their writing on hold. I heard a lot of bad news from a lot of writers. Some good news as well, of course, but while 2020 was a bad year for everyone, it was a particularly bad year for those relying on already unsteady income streams.

I did the rewrite of Banneker 3 and another and I worked on a new project, but writing just didn't seem to be the most important thing this year. Part of that might be that now that Banneker's story has a possible ending (though I've an idea for a fourth book), I feel like I've written the stories I most wanted to write. At least, for now. 

But part of it is because writing has never been the most important thing. I just occasionally thought it was.

IN CONCLUSION

I've been amazed at my luck from the day I realized my wife was into me (her friend helpfully called me and said, "she's into you"), but I've never been more keenly aware of my good fortune than I was this year. I've joked that every marriage that survived 2020 should get credit for extra years added to their total.

Sure, we got snippy with each other and went just a little Jack Torrance-y on occasion, but we've spent as much time together in 2020 as we did when we were first dating, We cooked for each other, she told me of drag race competitions and reality-show housewives I didn't care about, I told her Batman and videogame news she didn't care to hear, but we also comforted one another through the worst parts of cutting off contact with the outside world. And she did some very impressive things this year career-wise, which is why I played those video games on our fancy new TV.

But a PS5 wasn't my favorite new possession of 2020. That honor goes to a beautiful gently used cast-iron patio set where I could set up my computer and sneak in some work here and there while my son bounced around on his favorite new possession: a giant trampoline a neighbor gave us for free. No haptic feedback webslinging ever gave me as much joy as jumping on that thing gave him, and his laughter gave me joy.

Because I was enrolled in Little Ninja's classes virtually, I knew what materials for us to use and what topics to focus on, allowing us to work together throughout the day and never in a continuous block. The result was Little Ninja made some significant improvements this year and I'm far more proud of that than I would've been a new story. 

And on the occasions when I heard that old voice in my head lecturing me for spending too much time with my kid when my daily wordcount was lagging or nonexistent, it occurred to me just how messed up my value system has been for a very long while. Late-stage capitalism warps everything, including an artist's perspective of their own worth and of the value of life itself.

On a long enough timeline, I'll probably write some more books or at least a few more epic blog posts. And if I don't, that's a shame, but I'm proud of the books already available. If I died tomorrow, a possibility Covid-19 brings into stark focus every day, my greatest regret wouldn't be that I never wrote All Together Now 3. I've got this one period in time when I can focus completely on my child, hopefully without messing him up too badly, and my books can wait:)

In 2021, I'm going to promote Banneker Bones and the Cyborg Conspiracy and hopefully have more conversations with interesting people you can watch or listen to, which has the effect of assuring me the world will have plenty of excellent literature even if I don't write it. I'm going to read, and not just books by guests on the show, but scary stories and mysteries and comics and stuff I like. And God willing and I'm alive, I'll play Horizon Forbidden West the very second it releases.

And should a new story, better than the half drafts I have presently, draw me in, I'm sure I'll write it. But if I find some other things I enjoy doing more than writing, I'm going to do those things instead, and I'm going to be okay with it. My dream came true: I'm an author and people like the things I wrote. Anything else I write will be because not writing it will make me less happy than writing it.

Life is short and can change on a dime. If 2020 has taught us anything, it should be that life is not static. I'm going to do the best I can with the time I have and I wish the same for you, Esteemed Reader. I hope 2021 is better for all of us.

NINJA STUFF: Author, Year Six (2019)

The headline of 2019's Author Year-in-Review post is this: the Banneker Bones trilogy is finally coming to a close. I've still got some work ahead of me, but Banneker Bones and the Cyborg Conspiracy will be available May 15, 2020.

I can't reveal many details as saying much of anything about this third story will spoil bits of the first two. But I can reveal Steven Novak's glorious third cover and I can say that I can't wait for you to read this final-ish adventure (there will hopefully someday be a fourth, fifth, and sixth book, but not for a while, and this third book is an ending for the series).

Happy New Year, Esteemed Reader! I know I've done more podcasting than blogging in 2019, and truthfully, I anticipate more of the same in 2020. Every episode of the Middle Grade Ninja podcast feels like I won a contest to chat with someone I admire. I frequently sound awkward and dorky on the show, which isn't really a surprise—I AM awkward and dorky, on and off the air. Even so, I appear to be getting away with this thing so far and I'm having fun. Traffic numbers tell me Esteemed Audience is getting something out of the show as well.

If you haven't heard the podcast yet, the archives await you, friend. If you've read this blog ever, you're into writing and reading and you'll probably enjoy listening to writers and publishing professionals chat with me about writing and reading. The most recent clip show is a good place to start. The previous one was excellent as well.

The podcast sucks up most of the time I used to devote to blogging (and more), so I've been posting less frequently. But I look forward to these author year-in-review posts as they require me to read the previous ones and evaluate my performance. In 2019, I feel I did some things better than I ever have, I could improve on some things for 2020, and I did one colossally stupid thing I'm still beating myself up over as I'm getting a little old to have made such a childish mistake. But I'm also old enough to know that mistakes are part of life and I certainly took a lifelong lesson away from the experience. That mistake (neveryoumind the details) and a funeral aside, 2019 was a mostly excellent year.

As in previous years, I'll spend the first half of this post rambling about the things other people made in 2019 that I loved. I won't even attempt to sum up the decade, although Middle Grade Ninja is ten years old this year. In the second half of the post, I'll ramble about the things I made, some lessons I learned, and my plans for the future.

FAVORITE MEDIA OF 2019

You regular Esteemed Readers know I never list my favorite books for the year because 1. I'm too slow a reader to have kept up with the whole market, so I can never know for sure. 2. I like having writer friends:) 3. Each book is its own unique experience I'm almost always happy to have had regardless of other experiences.

That said, in a world where old-time favorites frequently let us down, two books that were amazing were The Institute and The Testaments. They weren't necessarily my favorite books of the year, but they were each rich and rewarding reading experiences. It's inspiring to see two literary giants who've been at the top of their game for decades knock it out of the park yet again, despite the probability of their later work crumbling against the weight of fan expectations. King and Atwood are two of the best around and a reminder that a writer's career can be a long one. An author's best work isn't behind them until they decide it's so and I'll put their senior works toe-to-toe with their freshman efforts any day.

Movies

El Camino was something truly special that Mrs. Ninja and I loved together and made us yearn for more Better Call Saul. This year's superhero movies I loved alone. It goes without saying that Marvel killed it with Avengers: Endgame and Spider-man: Far From Home, and Captain Marvel was mostly charming, with points off for Nick Fury's unsatisfying eye-patch origin. Shazam did DC proud by being an absolute charm factory. Joker was... I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about it.

2019 was quite the year for horror. Brightburn had me smiling from start to finish. My favorite movie of 2019 should be Us (any other year, it would be). Us is a well-crafted thing of beauty. From the performances to the cinematography to the music, this is a superior horror film that makes me want to buy an opening ticket for every Jordan Peele movie that's ever going to be made (he also got the biggest laugh in Toy Story 4). I can't remember the last time a movie so terrified me that I had nightmares for a week afterward. Get Out was amazing, but I like Us even more. And I still occasionally glance at my driveway expecting to see me and Mrs. Ninja at the end of it.

I loved Us so, so much, but there's another movie I love even more: Crawl, my favorite movie of the year, and one of the greatest viewing experiences of my life. This flick understood exactly what I wanted from it and over delivered. For me, it's a dream movie, a wish my heart made, about folks getting chased by alligators.

It's masterfully plotted and terrifying with characters you care about who are properly tortured. For every time I've been let down by a supposedly scary movie, Crawl reminds me why I keep coming back to this genre. It's the rare gold I've been mining for. I'll watch another 20 not-so-good horror flicks because every so often you get a Crawl that makes the search worth while.

I saw Crawl twice in the theaters, once when I bought my digital copy, and again this very week. That last viewing was a post Christmas afternoon with my in-laws who hadn't seen it before. They were both on the edge of their seat and shouting at all the best parts, so the movie was fun in a whole new way.

TV

Often better than the movies these days are the TV series, and there were several extraordinary seasons of television in 2019. My favorite series of the year is a three-way HBO-driven tie between Chernobyl, season two of Big Little Lies (has Meryl Streep ever been better?) and Watchmen, with an unfair advantage for Watchmen. 

That last was something Mrs. Ninja and I enjoyed together and discussed at length between episodes. I loved those conversations about Watchmen as much as the show. I'm guilty of binging the occasional series and it can be fun, but the weekly release of episodes gave us time to speculate about the many mysteries and read about the history referenced in the show, as well as go back and reread Alan Moore's almost-but-not-quite-as-good-as-The-Dark-Knight-Returns masterpiece.

Other series I really loved in 2019 were The Boys, Veep (going to miss it), Mindhunter, BoJack Horseman (realizing Todd was performing Brokeback Mountain with sock puppets for a two-year-old might be the hardest I laughed all year), and F is for Family. And the first five episodes of Rick and Morty's 4th season were better than entire series runs of other shows.

Videogames

2019 was a slow year for video games, or it may just be that I've been too busy to play many of them. I loved the final season of Telltale's The Walking Dead. It was a satisfying ending to Clementine's journey and one of the better zombie stories I've enjoyed across any medium.

The remaster of the Ghostbusters game made my day. I played the original, of course, but I lost my copy in a robbery. All these years later, I was thrilled to play it again. That game is the fulfillment of the childhood wish of most 80's children, and even though Nintendo has since improved its game play in their Luigi's Haunted Copycat series, nothing tops being a recruit with the actual guys. An experience like that is something only a videogame can deliver.

And then a miracle happened. Mrs. Ninja gave me a Switch Lite for Christmas. Few things have brought me so much joy. I've finally experienced Super Mario Odyssey, Mario Kart 8, and the beginning of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (I'll probably still be playing that massive game this time next year), because I took time off to relive another childhood favorite: Zelda: Link's Awakening.

If all's well that ends well, 2019 had a very happy ending indeed, so it must've been a good year:)

STUFF I DID

Despite my many hours spent watching television and playing videogames, I did a lot of reading in 2019, which you can hear me talking about in the 53 episodes of the podcast I produced. My writing wasn't quite as steady as I would've liked in 2019 (it never is), but I published a book and got another most of the way toward publication. The Banneker books never come easy, and as much I love that world, I'm glad to be stepping away from the series for a while, probably for years, until I hear the Song of the Turtle calling me back to The Dark Tower.

I led three six-week fiction workshops in 2019, which kept me busy critiquing student work, and I taught at a bunch of one-off courses. I was even invited to speak at the Indiana Comic Convention, which was an enormously enjoyable experience, and I addressed a bunch of wonderful audiences. I love meeting writers, so I'll keep speaking at events for them so long as I keep receiving invitations.

Banneker Bones and the Alligator People has been extremely well received by readers (the ones I've heard from), which makes me so, so happy. I love that book. My life is better for having written it.

Going into 2020, I'm as in love with writing as I've ever been, though the relationship has matured.

FROM THE MOUTHS OF BABES

I had some incredible experiences in 2019, many of which I recorded so you can enjoy them as well. Talking to former National Teacher of the Year Sharon M. Draper, in addition to being an absolute once-in-a-lifetime thrill, convinced me I needed to spend more time around young people. So I signed up to be a substitute teacher.

I've been interacting with middle grade readers on a regular basis and it turns out most teachers have prep periods that can be used as extra writing time. It's the perfect job that works around my kid's schedule and helps improve my school visits and my writing.

As an example of the things I'm learning, one day I was teaching fifth graders and a boy wore a t-shirt with Jason and Freddy fighting on it with a bunch of blood, so I gave him my honest opinion: "cool shirt." And it was. But later, when the class was lining up in the hall, he went up to another teacher and proudly proclaimed, "See, Mr. Kent likes my shirt." And so she reminded him and me that no, that shirt was not appropriate for the fifth grade, and I had to be all, oh yeah, right, right. Whoops:)

I usually don't mention my writing to the students when I'm teaching because that's not why I'm there.  I do ask all of the kids what books they're reading and which are their favorites. On one occasion, however, a child observed me putting away my new book and asked about it and I was all like, I Am An Author, spoken as though admitting to being an Avenger.

The child then threw a barrage of questions at me that boiled down to, "How rich and famous are you and why are you at my school?" I then explained that though I love every reader I have, I'm not especially rich or even all that internet-famous:) The vast majority of writers aren't either, even the ones I imagined would be before I met them. The child looked at me skeptically and asked, "are you really an author?"

That interaction bummed me out for a day, but then I had a thought that's kept me smiling ever since. Being rich and famous for writing 1. Probably has as much downside as upside and won't, by itself, make anyone forever happy and content 2. Is a child's idea of what it means to be an author.

And so I said to myself, Ninja, do you love your life? Mostly, I do. I love my family and my Nintendo and I've gotten to chat with a lot of my heroes and I've written some books that might yet change the world, but have certainly changed mine. So if you love your life and you're happy, why are you letting a child's idea of what your author life should be bum you out? 

I'm not saying I couldn't stand to be richer, though I'm about as famous as I want to be, and I don't want to fall so deeply into contentment that I lose my drive to keep expanding my talent and my audience... but, honestly, life is pretty great just the way it is.

LIVING WITH POLITICS WHEN THE COUNTRY IS ON FIRE

2019 was another year of Oh-God-is-America-over-is-this-how-it-ends-and-if-so-does-anything-else-matter panic on a daily basis and it weighed on me as I'm sure it's weighed on you, Esteemed Reader. And it's not over. I don't expect it to be over for some time to come.

I wonder how wise it is for me to keep paying attention to national politics, honestly. Saturday Night Live did an especially poignant sketch I'm going to share below in case you missed it. In the sketch, three American families bitterly discuss politics at Christmas, and at the end, the snow person narrator informs us, "they live in states where their votes don't matter."

I watched the Mueller testimony live. I watched much of the impeachment hearings. And yet, I don't know that I'm accomplishing much by being so well informed. I've protested and voted and I'll keep voting, but why am I giving so much head space to events I can't impact? If the apocalypse is coming either way and I can't stop it, why am I wasting my last days thinking about Donald Trump?

As a teenager, I knew the names of all the producers and directors and screenwriters of my favorite films, but after deciding film school wasn't for me, I mostly stopped memorizing the resumes of famous people I don't know and am unlikely to work with. I feel like that portion of my mental capacity has been replaced with the names of politicians, and I don't know that the change is for the better or that the knowledge is in any way more useful—knowing the names of movie people at least helps me decide what movies to watch.

Red Dawn actually happened and if the good-ish guys are the ones who write history, we'll have to acknowledge that the Republican party has been infiltrated by Russia to a terrifying degree, the full extent of which we may never know, and some Democrats have surely been bought and compromised as well. All of that demands my attention...

On the other hand, I think about how angry I was and still am at the bankers who decimated our economy, took their bonuses, and crept away to their evil lairs to laugh at us and never be brought to justice. What difference did any of my anger make? Paul Ryan is laughing at us, and it's hard for me to believe he won't be joined by Mitch McConnell so they can high five and chuckle at how they brought America to its end, the bad guys win, credits.

I can't imagine Trump in jail, and certainly not all his enablers who belong there with him. And in the end, the Emperor-Palpatine-level villain I'm so furious with ends up looking like this:

I seriously doubt the billionaires of the world care that I think they shouldn't exist. The only person affected by my hatred of those evil bankers, in the end, has been me. And so it will probably be with evil politicians. Life is short and appearing shockingly shorter with every year that passes. How much of my energy should I waste on impotent hatred?

But lots of great stuff happened in 2019 and relative to most of human history, it was a great time to be alive. In 2020, I'm going to make a conscious effort to focus less on national politics and more on things happening in my community I can actually impact.

WATCH YOUR BACK, JOE ROGAN

As I said, the biggest change in my author life in 2019 has been hosting and producing the Middle Grade Ninja podcast, which has had its ups and downs as I'm still learning on the job how to do it successfully. But it's been mostly ups, so I plan to record more podcasts in 2020.

Even if, for some reason, the whole thing comes to an end and I quit podcasting forever, I'll still feel the episodes produced thus far are an absolute good and I'll be forever grateful for every one of the conversations I've had and the many, many things I've learned.

I'm still figuring out a successful work/life balance to keep the podcast going—and that's a struggle I expect to continue. Fortunately, I've recorded a bunch of episodes so I'm taking most of January off to give myself a break before I burn out. I don't want to complain because talking with so many wonderful people and sharing those conversation is a privilege, and I don't want the huge amount of work involved to lead me to ever take it for granted.

That said, every episode takes hours of work before it's recorded, both in arranging the episode and researching for it ahead of time. And though I try not to do much editing of the actual conversation except when requested—which is why you hear all my ums and awkward transitions—the editing of each episode into clips and a final product takes a lot of time as well. That's mostly good as listening to each episode a couple times 1. Ensures I absorb the advice of my guests (maybe Esteemed Reader learns something, but I definitely do) 2. Helps me improve as a host for the next interview.

Still, all that work is probably why I went off on a publicist who was extremely rude not long ago. I'm not proud of this, but this particular publicist emailed me once about potential dates for her client, never followed up for over a month, and then emailed me the week before demanding that I drop everything and conduct the interview over the holidays, blaming me for her failure as though I were out to hurt her author.

Check out my site, friend. I won't deny I've had some interactions with authors over the years that could've gone better (you try running this blog for a decade and do everything perfect every time), but I feel I've been pretty consistently helpful to the writing community on a mostly volunteer basis over the last ten years. This irritating publicist (not one of the fine and noble publicists who's appeared on the show) and a few other unpleasant interactions left me grumbling.

But the podcast is extremely popular in a way that has really surprised me. People all around the world are tuning in to the show every week and in rapidly growing numbers, though the audience was already horrifyingly huge. I'm aware they're tuning in more for the guests than for me, which makes perfect sense, but I take pride in so far not dissuading folks from listening to the show by appearing on it:)

THASSIT.

In 2020, I anticipate writing more things that are not Banneker, parts of one thing that very much is, and hosting more podcasts. I'm going to do more public appearances and read new and interesting books and beat Breath of the Wild. This time next year I hope to have a whole bunch of great things to tell you about, so I'm going to get busy doing some great things now as to not let either of us down. I hope you have a great 2020 as well, Esteemed Reader.

NINJA STUFF: Author, Year Five (2018)

Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming and I'm so old that I still quote Smashmouth. That song has graced our eardrums for 20 years this year and Shrek has graced our eyeballs for 18 years. Do you remember which theater you were in when you first saw that movie? Yeah? Are you thinking about it? That was 18 years ago.

Anyway, happy New Year, Esteemed Reader. Let's get on with this year-in review nonsense so that, God willing, 20 years from now I can wax philosophical about where I was when I wrote this post, and think to myself, Smashmouth is still a dumb name for a band and I never really liked Shrek (popular culture and I don't always agree), but "All Star" was a catchy tune and I wish I'd thought about weightier issues in my squandered life (do you guys remember Chumbawamba?).

2018 was a year that, when I look back on the years that really aged me, will stand out. 2018 is responsible for more than its fair share of my emerging wrinkles. I had an unusually difficult writing year. My summer got particularly rough, but then a couple things happened that made me go, oh yeah, there is a God (probably) and reality is sometimes wonky, so it's best to be optimistic and not worry so much.

The Blog in 2018

We had lots of great guests at the blog this year. We had some oh-my-gosh-she's-so-famous-and-she's-here authors stop by and some keep-your-eyes-on-him-because-he's-doing-great-things authors as well and I remain eternally grateful to both types of authors for making the time for me and Esteemed Reader. I've never met an author I didn't admire at least a little and Middle Grade Ninja remains one of the best things I've ever done because it's put me in contact with so many of them.

We also had some excellent literary agents and public relations experts visit and I hope we'll have more in 2019. I feel every interview posted here makes me smarter for having read it. And I'm thrilled by the many high quality guest posts so many talented authors and publishing professionals have shared with us.

I read a bunch of amazing books this year, some of which I reviewed here, many more which I didn't. I've said this is the greatest time in history to be a writer, but it's also the greatest time to be a reader. There are wonderful books being produced all around us and most anyone can find a way to access an endless supply. 2018 was, relative to all (known) preceding human history, an amazing time to be alive.

In May, I was invited to be a guest on my first ever podcast interview. In June, I recorded the first episode of my own podcast with author Laura Martin, although it didn't become an actual podcast until early December.

A podcast/YouTube show is something I've thought about doing for years, but haven't because it's a scary prospect. In listening to one of my many favorite podcasts, I heard a sociologist (can't remember which one) explain that a fear of being in front of a crowd makes perfect evolutionary sense. For much of (known) human history, if you were at the front of the tribe, you might be about to be executed.

And as you'll hear, I'm a far better writer than a speaker. I prefer the time to carefully choose my words rather than vomiting up a word salad on the fly. Also, until this year, I haven't really had the time to record any kind of show. But my friends, the authors Laura Martin and Barbara Shoup were willing to be my first guests and I'll be forever grateful to them as they could each easily host their own show and helped me get over my initial nerves.

Lo and behold, once I got over my fear of appearing in front of all the internet, I really enjoyed the conversations we had. Talking with talented people is both illuminating and fun. Maybe the show will continue to resonate with viewers and listeners. Maybe it won't. But for sure I'll be a better writer for having had such insightful chats with people smarter than I am.

I don't know what the future of the podcast will be, but I'm overjoyed with the great guests I've interviewed so far and looking forward to talking with the amazing guests already scheduled to appear in 2019. I'm still a little nervous at just how many folks are watching and listening, but I've gotten used to strangers reading my books (God bless them) and I suppose I'll get used to strangers listening to me talk as well.

So please subscribe to my channel on YouTube or follow the podcast on Soundcloud, Stitcher, Spotify, itunes, and Google Play or just keep an eye on the blog for future installments. If you wanted to like, subscribe, and leave a review, that would be extremely helpful and appreciated. This is going to be a lot of fun and there's more ninja-ing ahead.

My Favorite Media in 2018

As you know, I don't pick favorite books. I love them all. Also, every year I bump into more authors in the real world and I like getting along with them:)

I'm seeing fewer movies and television programs every year because life is short and I feel like movie trailers are frequently better than the flicks. I didn't see A Star is Born, but that sure was a great movie trailer:)

My favorite movie of 2018 was hands-down Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse. The flicks I also really loved this year were A Quiet Place (I've been debating the merits of the film's final shot for months), Vice (such an angry movie about events that SHOULD make us angry), Halloween (how I'd missed a truly fun slasher flick), and Ready Player One (welcome back into my heart, Mr. Spielberg). And like everyone else in the world, I loved Avengers: Infinity War and  Black Panther. I also really enjoyed The Meg, which was exactly the movie I wanted it to be.

But honestly, the best experience I had in all of non-book media this year was Red Dead Redemption 2. The hype was real. It was exciting, funny, and heartbreaking. There are moments from that game I'm going to remember forever. I think Benjamin Byron Davis should win all the acting awards for his portrayal of Dutch Van der Linde. And how lovely it was to see John Marston again after all these years.

Marvel's Spider-Man and Far Cry 5 were each incredible experiences as well and both came as surprises to me. I'd never played a Far Cry game before (I checked out the others, but 5 is the best by far) and Spider-Man games have been mostly disappointing since the previous high point of Spider-Man 2. If taking the time to play these games means I ultimately write fewer books in this life, I'm okay with that (fair trade).

Also wonderful, but in a different way, were Assassin's Creed: Odyssey and Just Cause 4, neither of which I've completely finished, but I will eventually. They're the perfect games to play a bit at a time while listening to an audiobook after a long day of reading and writing and parenting.

(this scene made me misty-eyed)

Living with Politics in 2018

There are too many political scandals from 2018 to attempt recounting them all here or to properly express my outrage at kids in cages or the rest of it, and most of you Esteemed Readers live here in the US of A, so you already know. I really only want to write about how politics have impacted me this year. Trump is an anxiety machine.

When the history of this time is written, I'm confident the current Republican party will be remembered as villains. What might not be remembered is the daily strain of living through our national nightmare. The worst periods of depression I felt this year were due in large part to being confounded that this illegitimate "presidency" has been allowed to proceed, largely unimpeded. It's been a source of constant stress to watch my country collapsing tweet by tweet.

I remember where I was on 9/11. I watched on TV as the second plane struck the second tower in real time, horrified with the rest of the country, and I won't ever forget it. Similarly, I'll remember where I was the first time I saw Donald Trump's press conference in Hellsinki and the President of the United States sided with Putin over America.

The experience of watching that press conference must be what it's like to see a flying saucer (alas, I still haven't seen one). The pentagon admitted it's been studying flying saucers just last year and the evidence that they're in our skies and that the government is hushing up their existence is overwhelming. Most of us know the flying saucers are probably real, while pushing the information from our minds as it's not a practical concern for day to day living. It's still got to be a shock to actually see one. And afterward, you can't ever un-see it.

Similarly, we've known Trump was dishonest and acting strangely in regard to Russia since the election (Hillary credibly accused him of being Putin's puppet in the debates). But to actually see Trump's treason in real time, to realize beyond the shadow of a doubt that a traitor is in our oval office... there aren't sufficient words for that shock. If this had happened in any story outside of a comic book, I would've laughed at the absurdity of it, and yet that moment has now happened within our history.

After the Helsinki conference, I genuinely felt hopeless for a time. How do you believe in anything after seeing this monstrous "president" betray us? Actual presidents are legitimately-ish elected.  We're living under the occupation of an installed Russian asset and no one is stopping him and at least some Republicans are in on it!?! I can't breathe, I can't—I need to sit down.

But I voted in the midterms and so did a historic number of other Americans and we got our blue wave. Will it be enough? I don't know. But I'm cautiously optimistic that Donald Trump will not serve out his term and that we may see some real reform in our politics as a result of this catastrophic presidency.

Fingers crossed...

UPDATE: After this posted, Elizabeth Warren announced her plans to (probably) run for president in 2020, and this fills me with hope. I've been a fan of hers for years and I've read all her books. I don't need any primaries, I don't need any debates; she's been my number one choice for president for at least a decade. Assuming she runs, I will actively campaign for Elizabeth Warren as there is no better person to lead our needed political revolution.

Dark Times in 2018

Politics wasn't the only thing bumming me out this year. In May, my son's school had an early release due to a shooting in our district that really freaked me out. I don't want to recount the experience again, but I wrote a post about it on the day if you're curious to know what I'm like when I'm simultaneously heartbroken and terrified. I've since read several social media posts from friends of mine throughout the country who had similar experiences because America is a place where school shootings happen regularly and we can't get gun control because our politicians are bought and our politics are broken (happy New Year!).

I'm not going to share everything that happened to me and my family this summer, but know that there were many horrifying things that happened and plenty of reasons to despair. I'm happy to (and unable not to) pour my heart into my books and offer them up to the world. But despite running this blog and now popping up on YouTube and itunes and elsewhere, I'm actually a private person. I'm not interested in living my actual life in public, just my artistic one.

Because I'm not going to share, we'll move on, except for this: just when things looked bleakest for me and my family, they improbably turned around at literally the last moment they could. Since I'm not offering details (maybe in a few years), you'll have to take my word for it: this was the metaphorical equivalent of that helicopter crashing through the tunnel in the first Mission Impossible movie, its whirling blades only just barely managing not to slice Tom Cruise's throat open by centimeters (dunh duhn duhn da da dunh dunh!).

Perhaps I've said too much? If only I'd been more vague. In any case, things at the Kent household have turned around dramatically and I'm very happy with how well things are going now (and not taking it for granted). The experience has left me once again questioning the nature of my reality as such events are wont to do. I imagine Impossible Mission Force agent Ethan Hunt has spent many hours in a temple someplace contemplating the nature of his existence as well.

Being a Writer in 2018

I did lose some writing time this year to life and I fell behind a little, but not much. I wrote far more days this year than not. I read a whole bunch of excellent books and some others that offered me important lessons on how not to write a book:) Time spent reading is never regretted.

I critiqued multiple manuscripts and led my first five-week fiction workshop for students who paid money to attend it. And then I led two more, and I'll be leading another workshop in 2019 (still time to sign up). I learned more about being a writer in 2018 by teaching writers, and that's been a really satisfying thing to have done. I've now received multiple books from former students who are out there making their contributions to our literary conversation and that makes me feel I'm doing some good with my time in the world.

And yet I didn't publish a single book in 2018, even though I planned to. Sigh. See, what had happened was... Writing books is hard, man, especially middle grade books.

I've actually written the equivalent of three books in 2018. Unfortunately, they were mostly different versions of Banneker Bones and the Alligator People. I don't know why I ever thought it would be easy. Banneker Bones and the Giant Robot Bees is the most difficult book I've ever written (and my favorite). OF COURSE, its sequel is similarly challenging.

I had a version of the novel ready to go for its planned publication date of Halloween. It was a very good version and I loved it. But my critique group had some ideas about how it could be better. And that's why I have a critique group in addition to early readers and multiple editors. Their suggestions required some significant restructuring I couldn't complete in time, so I had to make a difficult decision to disappoint Banneker's fans and delay publication.

I hate disappointing Esteemed Reader, but I also couldn't live with knowing there was a better version of the book I could've given them and didn't because I ran out of time. Part of the appeal of indie publishing is that I set the rules (sometimes). These books of mine aren't just widgets to me. They're Horcruxes as a bit of my soul goes into each one. 

An even better Banneker Bones and the Alligator People will be released in 2019. I've taken advantage of the delay to complete a good chunk of Banneker's third adventure, hopefully to be published sometime before 2070. I've also worked on some YA horror stories I'll be sharing more details about soonish.

Being an Author in 2018

Despite not publishing a book, I feel I did a pretty good job of being an author this year—not that I don't plan to do better next year (I always do). I taught several classes, was interviewed in several excellent venues, and was invited to speak at lots of places that weren't my own podcast. I got some lovely emails from Esteemed Readers that meant quite a lot to me who like what I'm doing, and some who were promised Banneker Bones 2 and were perturbed they didn't get it (it's coming, I swear!).

I was invited to guest post for Indiana Humanities, which was pretty awesome, and I attended my first MoCon. I'm looking forward to going back every year as Maurice Broadus knows how to put on a great writers conference (you should come, Esteemed Reader).

Sometimes in the stress of day to day life, it's easy to lose track of the fact that most of my dreams have come true. Sure, I could be doing better, I could always be doing better, and the day I don't feel that way is probably the day I should quit. But I almost lost everything this year (vague to the last), and I appreciate everything I have all the more because of it.

I've got a loving family, an honest-to-God readership (fans, even), the respect of my peers, and now my own podcast/TV show, not to mention a PS4. There are generations of royal families who haven't lived lives as good as mine (with my air conditioning and my indoor plumbing and my dental care). In 2018, I was reminded to be grateful for every moment of this weird, wonderful life.

In 2019, I'm planning to work even harder and make even more of my dreams come true because why not? Who knows how long any of us has got left in this life? I plan to make the most of all the great opportunities I've got and to play Far Cry New Dawn!

Here's hoping you do the same, Esteemed Reader. Let's blast off this year and live our best lives!

(Tom Cruise doesn't want to hear your excuses or your "laws of physics")

NINJA STUFF: A School Shooting Happened Here, In My Town

Fair warning, Esteemed Reader, I'm going to use just a bit of adult language in this post. I'm emotional today because I've just picked up Little Ninja after his school went on lock down following a shooting.

I don't want to be writing this. I want that amazing interview with my hero Louis Sachar, author of Holes, Sideways Stories From Wayside School, and other classics,  to be the top post at Middle Grade Ninja for as long as possible because it was a really big deal for me to get and you should read his interview if you haven't already. It's inspiring stuff and the proper subject of a blog about reading and writing middle grade novels.

But I live in the United States, so it was just a matter of time until a school shooting happened here, yes, even in a nice little Indiana suburb where we bought our house originally for the great schools.

They're still great schools. One angry young man with a gun doesn't change that. And truth be told, there was a time in my life when I might've been that angry young man. More on that momentarily, but first, let me tell you about my morning:

I had my coffee and read a good chunk of Float by my friend Laura Martin, who will be here soon to discuss her amazing new novel. I adore and admire Laura's writing, so the day started off right. I woke up Little Ninja, who wasn't feeling morning just yet, so I held him and let him sleep in my lap and read some more of Laura's book because cuddles from my four-year-old and a good book are the best thing in the world.

If this had been our last morning together, I'd know my boy knew I loved him. So I'd have that to hold onto as I spiraled into whatever Dr. Lois Creed Pet Semmetary madness awaits those poor fathers who lose their children. I can't imagine... but today, I'm forced to, and I tell you I'd never be okay again. Not ever.

Eventually, Little Ninja was awake enough to eat some toast, put on a long-sleeved shirt (he won't do short sleeves, despite a temperature of 75) and brush his teeth. We went outside to wait for the school bus. And he wanted a hug because he's only four and hugs from his dad are still wanted. The day may come when he's too old for all that, but I'm putting that day off for as long as I can. My son's love has given my life a greater significance than I ever expected it to have.

I wished the bus driver and the attendant a happy Memorial Day weekend and they wished me the same and it was all smiles and normality because this is small-ish town Indiana and we Hoosiers are generally happy folk who like each other. I've visited your big cities and lived in Chicago and that's fine if you're into that sort of thing, but I like knowing my neighbors and who's minding Little Ninja when I'm not--and that's ONLY during the couple hours a day he goes to early education, the two, almost three hours a day I'm not watching him. I trust the bus driver and attendant as well as Little Ninja's extraordinary teachers and the administrators at his school because I've met with all of them multiple times and determined them to be trustworthy.

The moment the bus left, I started on my usual morning walk during which I brainstormed some brilliant ideas for revisions to my newest novel, Banneker Bones and the Alligator People, which will be available soon if nobody shoots me first. Banneker Bones is my favorite character and I was smiling and listening to The Dark Knight soundtrack, which always puts me in a Banneker mood, because all was right with the world, just another Friday morning, no reason to get excited, though there was one here among us who felt that life was but a joke.

I was nearly home, could in fact see my house in the distance, just as I'd thought of the perfect super hilarious thing for Ellicott Skullworth to say to Banneker Bones, when my phone buzzed with a notification: "Shots have been reported at (my town's) schools. Police are on site and all schools are on lock down."

And there it is. That's all it takes for the whole world to turn upside down and for nothing to ever be the same again. Never for one minute think your phone can't buzz with the same message.

Less than 30 minutes ago, I was the content father of a four-year-old. Am I still?

Oh my God, oh sweet Jesus, I know I wrote The Book of David and said a whole lot of mean and blasphemous things about organized religion, but please God, I take it all back, I'm sorry, Jesus, don't do this to me, don't do this to my wife, don't do this to Little Ninja's grandparents, please, Lord, I know I'm an American and I didn't protest for gun control because I was busy trying to make ends meet and I didn't take the threat serious, and I should've called my senators and congressmen, but I figured they don't care about me anyway and I had enough problems without worrying about the Washington swamp, but if You're real, if You were ever real, Lord, if any of the religion I learned in my youth ever meant anything, please don't do this,  I'm not home yet, God, You still have time to take it back, You can still make it okay, I know You can, don't do this, God, please, I beg You with my whole heart and soul and everything I ever had or ever will have, don't do this, I'll make it up to You, God, I swear I will, just don't take my son from me, I can't live without him, Lord, don't do this, Lord, please don't...

I ran all the way home.

I got online to read the news.

God didn't let my baby be murdered today. Or there is no God and I got lucky. I don't know. Maybe it's the Indiana in me, but I needed God to be real today and today She was.

When I read the news, I saw the shooter had already been apprehended. And it was the middle school, not the elementary school that had been attacked. So my baby was probably okay... probably.

It's Little Ninja's first full year of school. And he loves it. His teacher is truly one of the best human beings I've ever met. Hands down, Mrs. Sarah Dodson is a better person than I am. She has infinite patience and limitless love for her students. Every parent-teacher conference we've had, she's expressed love for my son and for her job and if it were up to me who Indiana built our next statue of, it would be her. My son has some special needs that have worried me a whole lot, and Little Ninja has made so much progress under her tutelage. I tagged along on a field trip on a rainy October day to a pumpkin patch and I personally witnessed Mrs. Dodson muddy and exhausted, but still filled with enthusiasm for her students. When I think of the great teachers of the world, I will always think of Mrs. Dodson.

Today, I saw Mrs. Dodson cry. Who would do that to so wonderful a woman? Who would make her hurt? What unjust, cruel, uncaring God would look down from Her heaven and allow that to happen?

I won't pretend to remember everything that happened this morning. It's all a blur of panic, but I remember thinking, please, Lord, make that son of b**ch Marco Rubio hurt. Let Ayn Rand sycophant Paul Ryan feel this pain (and please, let hell be real so there's a place for him to burn in after this life). Twist Mitch McConnell's turtle guts with the evil he's allowed to befall the people he was supposed to be watching out for. These are bad men, Lord, and enemies of the American people who sold their souls to the NRA and let innocent children be murdered so they could collect campaign contributions. They are worms crawling bare-bellied in the dirt and beneath my contempt.

I know this. Every American who reads the news knows this.

And you go straight to hell, Senator Todd Young of Indiana, who came to to offer your empty thoughts and prayers when we know you accepted $2,896,732 in contributions from the NRA. You give up every cent of blood money you've taken and dedicate the rest of your life to making this right and maybe we Hoosiers can forgive you. Until then, go f**k yourself.

I thought of all this today, and of the political tweets I've sent and the occasional FB posts I've made, but all that makes no difference when there's a shooter in your community. I haven't attended any political protests recently (I can't get a sitter for Black Panther, let alone a protest march).

All that political rhetoric, all that wasted energy raging about what crooked officials are doing hundreds of miles from here in Washington means exactly f**k all when it's your child's school that's on lock down from a shooter and you get that call in the middle of your morning when you're supposed to be focused on writing a lovely children's story and imagining a better world.

Mrs. Dodson called me as I was watching for Little Ninja's school bus to tell me the bus wasn't coming. If I'd stayed home today, if the bus had brought Little Ninja to me as usual, this incident might've just been another school shooting on the news. I would've still been terrified, but one step removed. Instead, I had to go to the school in person.

Here's what I experienced and what you can look forward to happening to you WHEN, not IF, this happens in your town at your kid's school:

I arrived at the same elementary school I've been to dozens of times and turned into the wrong entrance despite being 100% sober because I was not in the right frame of mind. I still didn't believe my son was okay until I held him in my arms and even then knowing what could've happened, what maybe even did happen in another reality before God took pity on me and made it right, what might happen next time... I turned around, getting honked at by a passing driver, and then went into the correct entrance.

At the front door was a regular dude in a police uniform. Not an Avenger, not a member of the Justice League, just a dude like me if I were brave enough to put on that uniform. He assured the parents ahead of me that the victims of the shooting were probably going to survive, but he didn't know for sure. Of course he didn't. How could he? His job was to ensure the distraught parents arriving weren't packing heat and that's more than I did for my community today.

I went inside and showed my driver's license, but the people in the front office know me. I'm not an absentee parent, so they smiled and said, "Hello, Mr. Kent," and called Mrs. Dodson to bring Little Ninja to me. While I waited in the front office, another little girl of approximately six was brought to her mother. "Why are all the parents picking up the kids?" she asked. Her mother thought up a lie and she thought it up quick: "They must all be going to the lake for Memorial Day weekend as well."

No judgement here. If Little Ninja had asked, I'd have lied as well, and I admire the way this woman maintained a smile despite the tears in the eyes of the other adults present.

The next little girl who came into the administrator's office wasn't so charmingly gullible. She was in the fourth or fifth grade and if it hadn't been for her, I think I could've maintained, honestly. But this little girl saw her mother and burst into tears and I won't ever forget it as long as I live. She knew the danger she was in. She'd seen through the bulls**t and knew anyone could come to her school and kill her anytime and it was sheer luck it hadn't happened today.

And her mother was trying so hard to be a strong parent, to tell her that yes, Santa is real, and you can grow up to be anything you want even though the American economy is rigged against you, and of course you were never in any real danger. But she couldn't. Of course she couldn't. She burst into tears and embraced her child.

And I cried. God**nit, Esteemed Reader, I don't cry. Not ever. I've cried maybe three times in my whole adult life because big strong Hoosier men don't cry outside of when I'm watching a movie and it's cool to tear up a little when Spider-man tells Iron Man "I don't want to go," but I cried at real life today.

I'm crying as I type this, because I never thought I'd see something like that in my town. Because that nasty, awful stuff only happens on TV. It doesn't happen here where I live. That little girl knew she wasn't safe, hadn't ever been safe, not really, and I don't know how she'll ever feel safe in school again. And her mother couldn't maintain. Of course, she couldn't. I couldn't either. I doubt I'll ever forget today, but I know that little girl and her mother won't forget it.

They embraced and wept because they live in the United States where this happens all the time. Her child wasn't safe, my child isn't safe, and neither is yours. Politicians will stand back and let our children die so long as their campaigns are funded. Never think they won't.

It was at that moment that Mrs. Dodson arrived with Little Ninja. Probably she would've maintained. Mrs. Dodson is tough and I have infinite respect for her. But she saw that little girl and her mother and she saw me looking away and being all I'm-not-crying-you're-crying, because there are innocent children in this office and I'm not going to bawl in front of them.

Mrs. Dodson cried then and I cried. Maybe it's not appropriate to hug your kid's early education teacher. God knows I've never done it before, nor would I have under any other circumstances. We hugged and we cried and I said, "I'm so sorry this happened."

And she said, "He was safe. He was always safe."

Oh, Mrs. Dodson, how I wish that were so. And I don't doubt for a single second that you'd take a bullet for any of your students if it came to it and I love you for it, but my boy was NEVER safe in an American school. Not for one minute. It's his first full year of school and today I briefly thought somebody killed him just for wanting to learn.

Esteemed Reader, your children aren't safe either. Not in the United States.

And that's where I should leave it. I don't know how we fix this. I'm not that smart. We can write to our senators, but I don't have $2,896,732 to offer them unless y'all buy a whole lot more of my books, and politicians don't give a sh*t about average people. We know this. They think they're better than us and they're wrong, but I've seen the members of my fellow populace, and I get it.

Here's something else I know: I almost took a gun to school in the seventh grade. My father had a pistol in his closet he thought I didn't know about, but I did. And I put it in my backpack. I put it back where I got it before my bus came and my father never knew it was temporarily missing.

It's hard for me to accurately remember what went through my mind. Seventh grade was over 25 years ago now (Time, you wicked thing, you move too fast).

But I remember I was angry. Of course I was. Adolescence is hard, much harder than I care to recall. I had terrible acne and despite the title of this blog, I've never been ninja-like. I was chubby then and I'm chubby now, I've just learned that life is short and you can still find someone to love you despite chubbiness.

But seventh grade seemed like forever while it was happening; like it was all the time that ever was or was ever going to be, and my fellow seventh graders were as mean-spirited as I was. Everyday, I got picked on, and not just by the other kids, but by the teachers as well, and you bet I fantasized about making them pay.

Some of their scorn I brought on myself, not that I could see it then, being too young to know I was a jerk. I'd repeat just about any phase of my life, but Jesus save me, not middle school. If I should die a long, painful death, at least I won't be in middle school. Probably that's why in the one YA novel I've written, I made most of the adolescents zombies:)

Esteemed Reader, I'm wrung out. It's been a long day and my heart has been broken. The school I send my one and only child to everyday was threatened and I can't ever put Little Ninja on a bus again without wondering if I'm sending a lamb to the slaughter. I doubt any Hoosier parent here in my town will ever take that for granted again.

What I do know is we can't live like this. Don't kid yourself that this can't happen where you live. That's what I thought. America is a land of violence and violence will find you, even in my quiet Indiana town. Even where you live.

I don't know what the solution is. Honestly. I think sensible gun control laws are a damn fine start and I think politicians not bought and paid for by the gun lobby would be an even better one. But I had access to a gun when I was in middle school, despite my father's being a responsible gun owner. I didn't shoot the place up. I wrote a novel instead.

I do know that the United States has an epidemic of gun violence and it seems unrealistic to hope all potential school shooters are also aspiring novelists. And I know that if I'd had no access to guns, I would've never even come close. And the young man today, who's name I won't publicize, couldn't have shot squat if his access to a gun had been restricted.

I don't know the young man, but I'd be real surprised to learn he was a pure monster from birth until he picked up those handguns. I'd be real surprised to learn he had no good qualities and no one ever loved him ever.

I'm not a monster. Adolescence is a hard and confusing time of raging emotions and if you never had a dark moment in your youth, that's great for you, but most of us had one or two. Kids are allowed to think dumb thoughts. Around that time, I also courted racism as a philosophy (white guy in a small town, remember). Yet, I've shared my life with a black woman for 13 years and Banneker Bones is a biracial boy just like my kid.

Children should be allowed to be wrong and explore dark thoughts. It's part of growing up. Our job as parents is to keep them safe and restrict their access to weapons so they don't hurt themselves or others before they reach adulthood.

Alas, our government is bought and paid for, and guns remain plentiful. I assure you, for every school shooting that happens, there are ten, twenty, maybe a hundred or a thousand or more that don't happen. If we take access to guns out of the equation, maybe we can further drop that number.

This isn't something that just happens elsewhere. It happened here. It will happen where you live. Unless we get serious as a nation and do something to prevent it. Heck, I'd even be okay with fewer school shootings. It would be a good start and fewer dead kids, though not perfect, would be better.

I pray we do that, Esteemed Reader. I pray you don't ever feel the way I do today. And I'm going to do more than think and pray. I'm going to speak out. And I'm going to vote.

NINJA STUFF: Author, Year Four (2017)

Another year in the rearview, Esteemed Reader. Time, you wicked thing, you move too fast. Seems like I just wrote 2016's annual year-in-review post for this series in which I chronicle my writer's journey.

I'm aware this is a trick of perspective. Every year that passes is a comparatively smaller fraction of my overall life and so it is my experience of time passing and not the speed of time passing that is changing. For this reason, the older we get, the faster time seems to go, which is why I can recall endless summers from my childhood, and a much older relative tells me he can see the leaves changing color before his very eyes.

I've never forgotten one particular passage from Christine even though I read it in high school and haven't reread it since (but that realization means it's going in my audible book bank momentarily). Great writing stays with you, and y'all know how passionate I am about my Stephen King. Anyway, to quote the man: As soon as you have a kid, you know for sure that you`re going to die. When you have a kid, you see your own gravestone. That quote is at least partially responsible for me pushing back parenthood as far as I could, but now on the other side of being a dad, I can vouch it's true. The best way to speed up time is to have a little person exploding in growth in front of you as a daily reminder that yep, you're getting older too, Daddy.

How long will I live and will I know how long it was when it ends? Does a person struck from behind by a speeding bus have cognizance enough to think "made it to 53!" before the lights go out? These are the types of thoughts that plague my mind, which is why I sometimes write scary stories so that my dark thoughts will leave me alone and go infect Esteemed Reader:)

The only comfort I've found when such thoughts come is in remembering that it is the quality of life lived rather than the length of the experience that matters. That's why I'm opening this post with that adorable picture of Little Ninja trick or treating for the first time and doing the Kent name proud. I'm the red and brown shape beside him. That was a great day, Esteemed Reader, and there were a lot of great days in 2017. There's no way for me to know how many great days remain in my future, but I'm eternally grateful for the ones I've had so far.

I'm going to get just a little personal before this post is done, but for now let's get to the subject at hand: I am not 100% satisfied with myself as a writer this year. Naturally, I feel that way every year and the day I'm completely satisfied is the day I needn't bother writing anything more. Each book is a battle, and though I've got ten books available to date, writing is a war. In 2017 I feel I was a better writer than I have been in many years past, but not quite the writer I still believe I can be and am working to become.

A smarter blogger might focus this yearly post solely on his accomplishments, put up a link to his books, and remind Esteemed Reader he's awesome (but you're here, so you know). And he'd definitely point out that he's going to be teaching multiple classes and hosting a fiction workshop starting in March of 2018:) However, I've always considered myself more a lucky blogger than a smart blogger.

Why did holy-moley-what-a-big-deal authors Kate Dicamillo and Katherine Applegate visit this blog in the same month? I'm aware I'm humble bragging, which is why I'll also shamelessly link to Michael Grant and Bruce Corville's 2017 interviews:) Why did my longtime horror hero Jack Ketchum agree to face the 7 Questions this year? Why did any of the other amazing posts in 2017 happen (including the Vonneguys, the stars of my favorite podcast)? We had so many talented people appear here, I'd fill this post up linking to them all.

I honestly am not entirely sure how these wonderful things happened. I don't know why any writer or publishing professional agrees to appear at this blog with its silly name (that, for the record, I still think is funny). I don't pay posters in anything except "exposure," and good luck buying a coffee with that:) And I'm not really that great at blogging. I suck at Twitter, I don't do nearly as much marketing as I should, I'm forever behind on emails, and I've got interviews and guest posts with some really amazing people on backlog a couple months out (yet I still chose to take up this week's post with me talking).

I'm just a blogger who got lucky. And I keep being lucky, at least so far (when you're walking on sunshine, whoah-oah, it's best not to look down).

More on that before the end, but first I want to say that I think my biggest accomplishment in 2017 was mostly fighting an often threatened depression that's been hovering at my door all year like a dementor begging admittance. I've seen depression chew up better writers than me. Probably they were intellectually superior, and therefore more susceptible than the dumber, but happier Ninja:)

2017 has been a difficult year.

Sometimes it helps to remember that making more than $30,000 per year puts me in the richest one percent of the world and slavery is still a thing, so really, my situation is not too shabby.

Sometimes it doesn't help as life experience is relative and a bee sting is the most painful thing that could ever happen to someone who hasn't experienced worse. I'm aware there are people all over the world who would give quite a lot to have my life (for the honor of having written Pizza Delivery alone!).

I have nothing to complain about as I played all of Assassin's Creed: Origins and Horizon Zero Dawn this year, and watched every episode of Better Call Saul and The Punisher and kept Rick and Morty on pretty much endless repeat as it's my most favorite thing. I try not to single out great books in these yearly media-in-review sections because one, I review a lot of them here, and two, I don't want to lose a writer friend through accidental exclusion:) Although I can recommend the audiobook for Artemis by Andy Weir (who has also appeared at this awesome blog), which is performed to perfection by Rosario Dawson.  Rest assured, if you released a book book this year, it was my favorite.

Movies were mostly disappointing this year, although I didn't see too many of them as I'm aging out of the key demographic and losing interest in Hollywood (haven't seen a single Fast and Furious flick and feel my life is presumably fine without them). Wonder Woman was swell (even though the CGI was unforgivably terrible), 1922, The Girl with all the Gifts, and Dunkirk kept me on the edge of my seat, and Michael Keaton rocked so hard in Spider-Man: Homecoming (and yea two non-white girlfriends for Peter Parker because, yes, in the age of Trump, it matters). It was pretty solid, but couldn't compare to my favorite book and left out some important stuff (like the werewolf and the mummy).

Any previous year if you'd asked me what movies I most wanted to see made, I would've said Justice League and The Dark Tower because their source material is so strong, surely a studio couldn't screw them up. Sigh. And I sure would love another Star Wars with more Luke Skywalker (so long as they don't make him a depressed cynic who gave up on the rebellion and considers killing teenage nephews in their sleep because of... reasons). Heavy sigh. All three movies had just enough of the thing I loved that I can't say I hated them, but I can't say I loved them either. Also, The Walking Dead jumped the shark with a death so stupidly shortsighted and pointless I've lost patience with my formerly favorite show:(

Yet I find myself continually thinking of Justice League's haunting opening credits montage of a dark world without hope (Superman) set against Sigrid's extra-sadness-inducing cover of "Everybody Knows." That scene was far too dark and far too real, particularly the shot of the homeless guy with the words "I tried" written on his collection box (get ready for the super friends, kids!!!). The scene made me uncomfortable in the theater because despite the Whedon CGI crapfest with quips that followed, that depressing vision of America in the credits felt right for 2017.

Trump's America is intolerable. We're only going to spend two paragraphs on politics, but I can't talk about my sadness this year without addressing the country's. There are plenty of 2017 political recaps elsewhere and most of you Esteemed Readers have been living through the same national nightmare I have. If, like me, you've been fighting depression in 2017, know that there have been some extenuating factors weighing us all down.

In a way, the evil of the republican party has restored my faith in God, because evidently Satan exists in this world. Who else would want to strip healthcare from the most vulnerable to give more of our money to billionaires? Who else would endorse a pedophile and willfully ignore treason for tax cuts to keep their donors happy? And if Satan were at the head of a political party, wouldn't he want it to be known as the "Christian" party? And when the republican party behaves as though it were led by Satan, how much practical difference does it really make if this is actually true or just metaphorically so?

(try not to look directly into his demonic eyes)

One of the great ironies of finishing The Book of David was that I intended for that story to serve as my final argument to myself that religion isn't real and it had the opposite effect. I won't claim to understand the nature of God and I'm still not interested in organized religion, but I think I'm officially done flirting with atheism. Sorry, there's just too much weirdness to this reality for me to declare the world spiritually flat.

Okay, that's religion and politics. Let's get back to writing:) As I said, I'm not completely satisfied with my output for the year. The Book of David took over two years to put together. Chapter Five wasn't published until June and I still had to produce the paperback editions. Banneker Bones 2 is hopefully over halfway finished, but it's another big project and it's taking longer than planned. And I'm just not as fast a writer as I want to be.

In my defense, this picture should make it clear that The Book of David was a really, really big story to have told (Chapter Five alone is longer than all my other books):

I've taught multiple classes on writing this year, which was really fun (still time to sign up for my 2018 classes), and I did a couple author panels, such as this genre discussion you can listen to right now. In one class, I addressed the subject of depression as it's particularly prevalent among writers. The class ground to a halt as nearly every writing student had an experience to relate.

As a much younger man, I had a few instances of crippling depression that kept me from getting out of bed for days. But I eventually figured out that exercise combined with thinking better thoughts and living a better life mostly quells those negative feelings to a manageable level. And honestly, if you're not at least a little sad now and again, you're not seeing the human condition for what it is: simultaneously a miracle and a tragedy.

On November 9th of last year, as Mrs. Ninja and I were still reeling from the news that a racist reality television star was now in charge of the nukes, a doctor sat us down and gave us some news that will impact us the rest of our lives. That's as much as I feel comfortable sharing right now, but know that it was a powerful one-two punch that knocked me on my butt. It might have been the most profoundly upsetting day of my life.

Thank God, I was in the middle of The Book of David and so I had to keep writing, which kept me going. If I had been expected to start a new project, I might've lost the whole year. The beginning of 2017 was a rough time at the old Kent Farm (and yes, that's really what we call our suburbanite dwelling). But I got out of bed everyday to take care of my child and to keep producing my word count. Writing may be a cause of depression for many, but I say it saved me from depression.

By the time Chapter Five was published, I'd processed most of my grief (there's always more). There were a few weeks where I was just barely able to keep the farm together, but it got done and gave me the knowledge that if need be, I could probably endure worse. After all, being alive now means all of us are the product of humans who have endured much worse and produced offspring to carry on in the face of ever present tragedy. Yes, we have to endure Donald Trump, but we also have a vaccine for polio and are on our eighth edition of Mario Kart, so overall, I like to think human life is improving generation over generation.

Life is sometimes sad and hard and I've got to be strong enough to deal with it because no one else can do it for me. And the world just keeps on going whether I stay in bed feeling sad about it or whether I get up and live my life to the best of my ability. Either way, time flies, and this is all the life I'm ever going to have and the only chance I'm ever going to get to live it.

So I'm still writing and I hope to have Banneker Bones 2 and some other projects I think you'll like out where you can read them soon. Will 2018 be the year my writing breaks through to the next level? I hope so. Every year since I started these posts has been better than the previous year. And the only way to get where I'm going is to keep moving.

Getting back to what I said about being a lucky blogger, let me clarify: I've worked very hard to maintain this blog over the years. I've been diligent in my posting and kept this thing going when there weren't famous writers appearing here left and right. This is a long post among a lot of long posts, and yet traffic numbers tell me Esteemed Readers visit these posts long after I've forgotten them (probably for the Smallville gifs).

More famous writers will be showing up here in 2018 and plenty of soon-to-be-famous ones as well because this blog has momentum and so long as I don't do anything really stupid like write a long post professing a belief in flying saucers, I expect Middle Grade Ninja to continue to be a swell blog. And in my defense, the New York Times did recently confirm the pentagon has indeed run at least one secret flying saucer program.

I'm not silly enough to take full credit for the blog's success. I got lucky in that I started this blog at the ideal time and got some writers I knew to appear here which led to some writers I didn't know which led to some really famous writers which led to more famous writers appearing here. Yes, I've worked hard, but I also got lucky (and I've seen too many 1% folks not admit that to do likewise). If I'm honest, I don't know that I could replicate this blog's success if I had to start over from scratch today.

So far, I've not been quite as lucky with my fiction writing. I may never be that lucky. Luck isn't something that can be controlled. I can control my doing the work that needs to be done and I know that every book I've published is the best I could make it and I love every one of them (yes, even and especially Pizza Delivery). I'm improving at marketing and book promotion and am constantly working hard. That way, should I catch the next lucky break, I'll be ready to make the most of it.

I hope 2018 is a super year for both of us, Esteemed Reader. I hope we continue to overcome fear and sadness and prepare our vessels to travel. We may catch a strong breeze or we may not, but if we don't hoist our sails high, it won't much matter. And above all else, writing is fun and worth doing for its own sake. This is all the life we'll ever have and all the time we'll ever have to live it. I don't know what you're going to do in 2018, but I will believe a Ninja can fly.