Tag: future

• January 15, 2022

  The Birthday Resolutions Get Better with Age Like a Fine Wine

  

  

  What a year, am I right? After the dumpster fire that was 2020, 2021 offered new and unexpected challenges, along with a second helping of pandemic life just to keep things interesting. Personally, this past year was a time of incredible change, for which I’m grateful (ongoing global epidemic notwithstanding).

  This year, I became a father, and it’s by far the best thing I’ve ever done. Sure, there are exploding diapers, plenty of screaming, and sleepless nights, but there’s also a little person who smiles when she sees me, grabs my fingers tightly, and calms down at the sound of my voice. This year was one of preparation, getting everything set up, and welcoming a new life into this messy world — and the world is a brighter place for her presence.

  This was also a year that took my creative life in unforeseen directions. In November, while getting up every few hours at night with an infant, I decided to do NaNoWriMo, as a way to stay awake and much to my surprise, ended up writing 50,000 words of a novel manuscript in 30 days. I’ve kept the momentum up and now I’ve got a solid 80,000 words of a Las Vegas mobster novel and less than 20,000 words to go before I reach the end. It’s a major accomplishment for me, since I have a hard to time finishing any writing project, to be so close to typing “The End.”

  My other major creative pursuit was something completely different: a full-cast audio drama. I started writing The Adventures of Captain Radio in 2020 when I was desperate for some escape from grim reality. In 2021, I got back into the project, and the first half of our six-episode season is now available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and other audio streaming platforms.

  And to top it off, I baked some really, really delicious bread this year.

  Amazingly, for the second year in a row, I accomplished all of my birthday resolutions. Let’s see if we can keep the winning streak going. Here are my personal and creative resolutions for this coming year:

  Be the Best Parent I Can Be

  This is a big one. I’m new to this whole parenting thing and want to be a good dad. This means taking the time to be present, leaving work at work, and devoting myself fully to the joy and hardships that come with raising a tiny human. It isn’t easy, but it is rewarding and I’m looking forward to helping my daughter explore the world. I’m thankful I live in one of the few states that offers paid family leave and I’m getting ready to take off two months to spend caring for my daughter when my wife goes back to work.

  Finish What I Start

  This is a big one. I get excited by new ideas, and I’ve always been more keen to kick off a shiny new thing than to invest the energy to complete an existing project. This year, I’m endeavoring to continue the projects I began last year. That means wrapping up the first draft of my novel and starting revisions, editing and releasing the rest of my podcast, and completing work on the short story collection I began editing in 2020. This year will be a year of getting things done, even if they take a while.

  Embrace Change

  My life is vastly different than it was just a year ago. I’ve embarked on a new journey as a parent, changed jobs in the middle of a historic pandemic, and had most of my plans for the year upended in some way — but the results have been worth it. Change is inevitable. You can either fight it, getting lost in a cycle of anxiety about what might happen, or embrace it, making space to welcome the unknown. I can’t control what happens, but I can control my response to it. I hope to do this better as I begin this next trip around the sun.

  I find the practice of setting birthday resolutions to be helpful. In a decade of doing them, I haven’t always accomplished everything I set out to do or be, but that isn’t the point. The point is to try, to strive for something, to set the mark and see how close I can get. I may stumble on the way, but that’s part of the fun. Here’s to 32.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. His new fiction podcast, The Adventures of Captain Radio, is now available to stream on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and elsewhere. His fiction has appeared in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine, and All Worlds Wayfarer. You can follow him on Twitter or subscribe to his newsletter for more thoughts and musings.
• June 30, 2021

  The Once and Future Climate Crisis

  

  This week, temperatures in Tacoma were upward of 105 degrees—34 degrees above the average high for June—and stayed in the triple digits for three consecutive days. In a region where less than half the population lives in air conditioned homes, people suffered and as many as 100 people in Oregon, Washington and British Columbia died due to a heat wave unlike anything seen in the Pacific Northwest for as long as weather records have been kept.

  Our climate is changing in ways both subtle and profound, causing incremental disruptions in global weather patterns as well as sudden, extreme weather events like heat waves, hurricanes, droughts, and deluges. This round of dangerous heat is over, but it is part of a larger shift that imperils people and ecosystems in every corner the world. More is coming.

  As I look forward to the birth of our first child, I find myself increasingly worried about the world our child will grow up in and the multitude of social and environmental sins they will inherit. Will my child be able to go outside to play in the summer? Will there be unburned forests to enjoy?

  There are things we can do. We can acknowledge and share the scientific consensus that climate change is real and that humans are driving it. We can take responsibility for our personal actions and take steps to reduce our carbon usage. More substantively, we make our voices heard at the ballot box to demand measures to curb the devastating impacts of the climate crisis and reign in the industries and nations who continue to put profits ahead of preservation.

  There is no time to wait. We got ourselves into this mess; now we need to be the solution.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle lives in Tacoma, WA with his wife, three typewriters, and a puppy. His fiction has been featured in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine and All Worlds Wayfarer. Read more of his short fiction, follow him on Twitter, and subscribe to his monthly email newsletter.
• January 1, 2020

  For Auld Lang Syne

  

  Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
  And never brought to mind?
  Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
  And auld lang syne.

  A few weeks ago, as I was driving home from the grocery store, I passed the apartment I lived in when I first moved to Tacoma. More than six years ago, I arrived in the City of Destiny without a job or a plan for what I was going to do with my life. That first apartment was awful — cold, mouse-infested, and dingy. As I drove on toward the house I now own, in my new-ish car filled with groceries purchased thanks to a good job with a steady paycheck, I got to thinking about how far I’ve come in the last 10 years.

  There is something about the turning of a decade that feels like the end of a chapter. The fact that we break up years into groups of ten is, of course, completely arbitrary. But even so, history has layered previous decades with meaning and symbolism. We’ve even given some of them nicknames, like the Roaring Twenties. And so, I can’t help but want to mark this decade and leave my stamp on it, just as surely as it has left its stamp on me.

  And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp!
  And surely I’ll be mine!
  And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
  For auld lang syne.

  This decade turned my life upside down over and over again. I graduated from college, fell in love, moved to the Pacific Northwest, found gainful employment, got married, became a published writer, saw the world, bought a house, challenged myself to write a novel. I’ve experienced the happiest days of my life so far, but also some of the darkest.

  We twa hae run about the braes
  And pu’d the gowans fine;
  But we’ve wander’d mony a weary foot
  Sin auld lang syne.

  There is a tendency to romanticize the past; to blur out the pain and struggle; to sanitize our memories like a social media feed. There’s nothing wrong with that. I certainly don’t want to linger on past hardships, but I can’t deny that those moments are a part of the story, too.

  So, this New Year’s Day, I want to reflect on how far I’ve come and all that I’ve achieved and be grateful, but I also want to acknowledge that it’s been a rocky road to get here. There are always two sides to any story and no matter what the 2020s have in store, I’ll always carry my memories and experiences from this decade with me. As a kind, old Doctor once said, “We’re all stories in the end, just make it a good one, eh?” Happy new year.

  We twa hae paidl’d i’ the burn,
  Frae mornin’ sun till dine;
  But seas between us braid hae roar’d
  Sin auld lang syne.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer and storyteller in Tacoma, WA. You can read his short fiction in Creative Colloquy and Grit City Magazine or listen to his podcast about writing and the creative process, Dispatches with Jonny Eberle (available on all major podcast players) While you’re here, please join the mailing list!

  P.S. – If you’re interested in learning more about the history of the Scottish poem turned global New Year’s Eve anthem, give a listen to John Green’s review of Auld Lang Syne in the latest episode of his excellent podcast, The Anthropocene Reviewed.
• January 9, 2018

  The Birthday Resolutions Ride Again

  

  Resolutions are funny things. Every year, I make myself a series of promises and every year, I break most of those promises. And yet, I keep making resolutions on my birthday, because while I’m not good at fulfilling them, I still find value in the tradition — in aspiring to do better and be better each year.

  This year, as I dive headlong into my late-20s, I’m making three resolutions and if I’m lucky, I may even keep them this time. Hope springs eternal.

  1. Complete the first draft of my novel

  Astute readers of this blog will probably recognize this one. Last year, I laid out an ambitious goal to write a novel by my 30th birthday. In my original plan, I was going to finish the first draft last year and, well, it didn’t quite work out that way. So, this year I’m going to attempt a new first draft, this time based on a different premise that I’ve been cooking up. With my self-imposed deadline looming, I’m giving myself until November to complete the draft (around 100,000 words). This is a monumental undertaking, but I’m excited about this idea and I’m determined to get it finished.

  2. Learn to Accept My Limitations

  As I get older, I like to think that I also get a little wiser and a little more humble. I used to think that I could do it all. It turns out I don’t have unlimited time, boundless energy and barrels of talent that I used to believe I possessed — and that’s okay. I have obligations that I must keep; relationships that I must nourish. I can’t follow every harebrained idea that pops into my head. This year, I want to continue to learn how to reel myself back in. Limitations are necessary and by respecting my own limits, I’ll have to be more discerning in my endeavors. From now on, I want to devote my resources to doing a few things exceptionally well, rather than taking on multitudes poorly.

  3. Enjoy the Process

  In writing and in life, I’ve noticed that I have a tendency to either dwell on the past or start imagining the future. I like spending time reflecting and dreaming, but I don’t want to be so distracted from where I am in the present. I’m writing a novel. I’m young and living in a vibrant, interesting city. These are the years to soak in my experiences and savor the details so that I can draw on them later. I cannot write about fictional lives without living my own life. I want to remember that this year and enjoy the process of accumulating stories.

  What are your resolutions for this year? Let me know in the comments!

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. Today is his birthday. His latest short story, The Disappeared, appears in Creative Colloquy Vol. 4, which you can find at King’s Books in Tacoma. Follow him on Twitter and subscribe to his monthly newsletter for exclusive content and recommended reads.
• January 9, 2017

  Revenge of the Birthday Resolutions

  

  Today is my birthday. And five years ago, it was also a day when I couldn’t think of anything to write about. My blog was just getting off the ground and I knew I needed to write about something to keep myself in the habit and grow my small audience. I was drawing a blank, so I decided to take a risk and talk about something more personal. For years, I’ve been making birthday resolutions instead of New Year’s resolutions and that year, I shared my resolutions with the blogosphere. Five years later, that first blog about how I wanted to grow and change is one of my most viewed posts.

  Most of us make resolutions this time of year. We want to lose weight, cut back on the amount of time we spend on Facebook, put more money into our savings, but most of those resolutions are quickly abandoned.  It’s hard to change the course of a river once it’s found a course and human beings are no different, in my experience. Perhaps it’s no surprise that 88% of resolutions fail.

  Historically, I have struggled to keep my resolutions (except for that one time when I resolved to move across the country — that one worked out), but I’ve found more success when I limit myself to one or two, put them down in writing and hold myself accountable by telling people what I’m trying to accomplish.

  So, as I mark another year of wandering around this crazy world, I’m making one resolution. Just one. Possibly the most ambitious pledge to myself that I have ever made and the one that will have the most potential impact on my literary career. In light of that, I have also resolved to give it the time it deserves, by setting myself a three-year deadline.

  Okay, enough build-up. Here it is:

  I will complete a final draft of a novel by the time I am 30 years old.

  I have tip-toed around writing a novel for the better part of a decade and have little to show for it. Half a dozen unfinished (read: barely started) novels are cluttering my hard drive, but I have never devoted the time necessary to seeing any one of them through to a final draft.

  Writing a novel is big. Bigger than any writing project I’ve ever embarked upon. But I think that now is the time. I think I’m finally up to the task. I am fortune to have a loving spouse and a supportive web of friends and family to urge me onward. I’ll be documenting the ups and downs of the process from the initial idea to final draft right here — and I’m grateful to have you along for the ride.

  The clock is ticking. Wish me luck.

   — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer and soon-to-be novelist in Tacoma. You can find him on Twitter.

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• January 1, 2017

  On the Threshold of a New Year

  I stand in the doorway between two years. Behind me lies 2016, now in the past; ahead is 2017, still unknown. Like so many people, I am ready to put this year behind me, to slam the door and charge ahead without a thought to the past. The world is weary of 2016. This year brought so much strife and suffering into the world; so much anger and division. I long to hit the reset button and have a fresh start. That’s what the new year is all about, right?

  Not so fast.

  The celebration of the new year has a long history going back over four thousand years in many cultures around the world, and it has come to symbolize throwing off the burdens of the past and getting to start over. And yet, for the ancient Romans, I suspect that there was another layer to their year-end revels.

  The month Januarius was added to the Roman calendar in the 8th century B.C. by a guy named Numa Pompilius, but it wasn’t until Julius Caesar instituted his new Julian calendar in 46 B.C. that the New Year was moved to January 1. Previously, it had been at various points throughout spring and summer. By changing the date to the dead of winter, to the month of Januarius, it was linked to the Roman god Janus, the namesake of the month.

  Janus is an interesting god in the Roman pantheon. He is a god with two faces — one perpetually staring into the past and one forever fixed on the future. He is the god of doorways, thresholds and keys (it is from his name that we get the word “janitor.”). Unlike other gods that were straight-up stolen from the Greeks, Janus is an invention of the city of the seven hills.

  And though kings and popes continually shifted the date of the new year during the next several hundred years, it eventually found its place back here at the beginning of January; in this dark, cold month when we so long for a reset. I think there’s something still poignant about that placement.

  There is a temptation to toss aside the shackles of the past, but we can’t pretend that the last 12 months didn’t happen. We can’t discount the chaos around the world nor our personal struggles. Now is a time, for me at least, to pause and reflect. Today, I’m striving to embody Janus and set my sights on the future, while keeping an eye to the lessons of the past.

  Happy New Year.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA who tweets and secretly wonders if odd numbered years are better than even years. What are your hopes for 2017?
• May 26, 2016

  Why We Love a Good Apocalypse

  

  My wife and I were hiking through Point Defiance when our conversation turned, as it sometimes does, to the end of the world. If there was a major natural or man-made disaster, how would we survive? Would we be able to hunt the deer in the park? Or should we aim to steal a boat from the marina and make our way to her parents’ house on the other side of the bridge? I think we’ve all had these conversations — even if it’s only in our heads — where we’ve wondered whether we have what it takes to survive the end of the world.

  Apocalyptic fiction has a long history in the Western canon. Some of the earliest texts referencing a humanity-destroying calamity include a version of the Flood Narrative in the Epic of Gilgamesh dating to the third millennium B.C.E. (though it’s certainly older than that) and the Book of Revelation written in the first century. Since WWII and the splitting of the atom, books exploring the collapse of civilization have been gaining in popularity. The Hunger Games Trilogy, a series set in a post-apocalyptic North America, has sold an estimated 36.5 million copies.

  As a society, we are fascinated — even obsessed — with every kind of apocalypse imaginable. In fiction, I’ve seen the Earth burned to a crisp by asteroids, decimated by viruses, torn apart by nuclear warfare, eaten by zombies, and reduced to fighting over dwindling natural resources. In books, movies, and comics, we are drawn to dark portrayals of our own demise.

  Why? Does humanity have a death wish?

  I don’t think so. When I reread and rewatch my favorite apocalyptic books and movies, I don’t see pessimism. I see hope; hope for the future. I say that because apocalyptic texts seem to reach peak popularity in troubled times — times of war, economic strife, and civil unrest. When real life is bad, we project that into the art we create and I think we turn to end-of-the-world parables to remind ourselves that the world is not really coming to an end. They remind us that all is not lost. Not yet, at least.

  Intentionally or not, fables about the collapse of civilization as we know it are hopeful because they never count us out completely. I never read an apocalyptic tale that didn’t have survivors. No matter the calamity, there is always someone left standing. Those characters often embody the best qualities of humanity — determination, creativity, and compassion — and find a way to rebuild their lives. In each of these narratives, we pick up the pieces of our broken world. The human spirit cannot be extinguished, even at the end of days. Life goes on in the face of insurmountable odds, despite the best efforts of zombies, super bugs, or legions of alien invaders.

  If that isn’t a cause to hope for the future of our species, then I don’t know what is.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker in Tacoma, WA. You can find him on Twitter, among other places, and you can sign up for his email newsletter.
• May 5, 2014

  Airing Out

  

  “I love my rejection slips. They show me I try.” – Sylvia Plath

  For nine months, I’ve kept a box sealed up in my apartment. I brought it with me from Arizona last summer. Inside, tucked in between old manuscripts and saved letters is a small, neat stack of rejections. Some came in the mail; most by email. I printed each of them out and used to have them thumb-tacked to a bulletin board that hung near my desk in my old office.

  When I moved into my new place, I placed the bulletin board behind the bedroom door, unseen. The rejections from literary journals, websites and writing competitions stayed in their box. I taped it shut and was tempted to leave it like that. It’s so much easier to ignore them than to face them each day.

  But this week, there was a change in the weather. The first tease of a Washington summer brought blue skies and warmth — and a strange idea. My musty, cavelike apartment needed to be aired out. I threw open the windows and doors to let the space breathe. And the fresh air must have gone to my head.

  I grabbed a knife and started cutting through the packing tape on the boxes I had left sealed and stacked in a corner. I went looking for my rejections. Because just like my apartment, they need to be dusted off. I realize now that I need to see them. No one likes to think about their failures, but I need to be reminded of how far I’ve come and far I still have to go. I need to face rejection and use it to propel me to improve, not bury it in a box to be forgotten.

  Maybe I’ll hang the bulletin board up and pin the rejections where I can see them while I write. Maybe I’ll print off my recent rejection notices. Maybe it will hurt to read them. Maybe that will spur me onward.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. You can follow him on Twitter or leave a comment below. How do you deal with rejection? Tell me your secrets!
• March 31, 2014

  The Next Project

  

  This week, I got an email from a literary journal. They were reaching out to let me know that they were not interested in publishing my story. The news probably would’ve hurt, but I honestly couldn’t remember which story they were talking about. I had to dig through my submissions spreadsheet to even remember which contest I’d entered. It turns out, I entered four months ago.

  When I first started submitting my work for publication a few years ago, I spent weeks agonizing over rejections. My writing process was different back then. After laboring to produce a short story, I’d send it off to a handful of journals and wait. And wait. And wait. I wanted to be published so badly that it started getting in way of being a writer. When the rejections started rolling in several months later, I had nothing to show for my sleepless nights.

  I learned that you can’t wait around for success, no matter what you’re trying to accomplish. If you want to run a marathon, you have to get on the treadmill. If you want to be a writer, as I do, you have to put your fingers to the keyboard. Getting your big break takes most of us mortals years of numbing defeat. Like Sisyphus pushing his boulder forever uphill, we are crushed over and over by people who tell us “no.” If I’m going to survive rejection, I need to be constantly creating — reminding myself of why I love to do what I do.

  So, when I finish a story, I leap on to the next one. Instead of waiting and worrying, I’m moving forward to the next project. I’m at a point in my life where I’m not in school, I only have part-time work and I have a long daily train commute. Never again will I have this much time to devote to my craft. When I finished a novella last fall, I headed straight into writing a play. Now that the play is done and submitted to a theatre company, I’m fleshing out the plot of a novel.

  It’s easy to get burned out when you face rejection over and over. By diving into what I love instead of waiting, I’m happier and more productive. I’m more confident now than at any point in the past that someday I’m going to get that boulder to the top of the hill.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writing machine in Tacoma, WA. Please comment below and/or follow him on Twitter. Thanks for reading!
• March 20, 2014

  If the WGAW Says You’re Legit…

  

  Earlier this week, I arrived home to find a large white envelope exploding out of my mailbox. In this email age, I always get a little excited when something other than a book of coupons arrives in the mail. According to the return address, it was from the Writers Guild of America, West (WGAW). I didn’t even wait until I was inside to tear it open.

  Inside, I found a certificate, saying that I had registered my play, Worm Food, with the WGAW. The guild offers this service to non-members for a small fee. All you have to do is upload a manuscript and they’ll store it for five years. The idea is that it can serve as evidence that you wrote it, should someone try to plagiarize your work. For many writers, it’s the last step of the process before you unveil it to the wider world.

  I don’t think anyone is going to steal my play, but I still feel good about having it registered. The certificate with my name on it (my full legal name, which probably cost them a small fortune’s worth of ink to print) is like a stamp of legitimacy. I have a work registered with the guild. That means I started it, finished it, edited and did all the work necessary to prepare it for the marketplace. I feel like I’ve got my stripes as a playwright — now I have to prove that I’ve earned it.

  A play in the WGAW registry is not the dream. The end goal is to get it produced by a theatre company. A play without actors and an audience is just a bunch of words on a page. The WGAW says I’m a playwright, but that’s just the first step. Don’t worry, I’ll get there.

  

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer and aspiring playwright in Tacoma, WA. His full-length comedy, Worm Food, is a satirical look at friends, family and death. He also writes short stories, screenplays, novellas and most importantly of all, tweets. Seriously, you don’t want to miss his Twitter stream. Thanks for reading!