May there be music, madness and medals…

I’ve started this post a hundred times in my head over the last week, and now I’m here, I have no idea what to talk about. Significant dates and milestones feel like they should be the easiest triggers, but for this one, there are so many potential things to say that I am tripping over them on the way to the page. So I’m just writing now, editing later, you know the drill.

So what am I edging around right now? Well, the big elephant in the room is this blog’s birthday.

Post-Apocalyptic Publishing is one year old today.

I’ve been fairly quiet over the last few weeks, with the odd post here and there, as life and flu have been too demanding. Now I am healthy again, all of the accumulated things I would have written about, had I had the opportunity, are building up and threatening to burst out. It’s a wonderful feeling, but I am aware I’m holding back, digging my heels into the mud here to keep all of the ideas back so something sensible comes out onto the page.

This isn’t a comfortable feeling, and I’m annoyed as there is a part of me that wants this post to be amazing. I want it to spark and fizz off the screen, to leap into your chests and set of fireworks there. Instead I’m burbling. But that’s life isn’t it? How many of us get to one minute past midnight at the turn of the year and say “Oh. Was that it?”

What frustrates me is that I can’t align my writing brain with how I feel about this birthday. It’ll get there, I’m just cleaning out clogged pipes right now. That’s ok.

I keep thinking about the decision to name this blog Post-Apocalyptic Publishing. I remember an old version of my About page that said there were three reasons why it was named such. The first is obvious: my first novel is in the post-apocalyptic genre. The second was because, a year ago today, I thought this blog was going to be about self-publishing after not being able to find a publisher (the failure being the apocalyptic event). I didn’t, at the time, have the courage to talk about the third.

I do now.

The third reason for the name is because I when I started this blog, I was recovering from the post-natal depression nuke that had gone off the year before. It ended my world. The PND was globally disastrous; there wasn’t an aspect of my life that wasn’t destroyed, damaged or in the very least affected adversely by it. My internal infrastructure collapsed, established and fledging ideas died in their millions and I was left stumbling about in the wreckage. But, true to genre, there was still a burning ember of survival instinct left behind. And that little ember made the blog you’re reading now.

A year on, and everything has changed. I have a publisher. I am over the worst of the depression, and might even dare to say that it is gone, leaving just a few side-effects left to deal with this year. I have a short story club that I love writing for, and podcasts I’m actually happy for people to listen to. Considering it took an average of 24 hours to post up for the first three months or so, I am thrilled with this. Like so many post-apocalyptic stories, horror and devastation has been lightened by hope.

But most importantly, I have you.

Yes, you. Without you, I never would have found my way to a home I didn’t know existed. You have given me faith in my writing, you have helped me to vanquish the demon that haunts all writers; the but-can-I-actually-write-anyway monster. You encouraged me to persevere with trying to get a publisher. You cheered me on, you rubbed my virtual shoulder sympathetically when I was down, you jumped up and down with me when I spoke of my helium glee (and bless you, you knew what I meant by that), in short, you were there.

I have a yen to award special medals (for long service) to the brave few who have been with me here right from the first, second and third posts.

We start with the amazing Diana Maus. I’m about to e-mail her now actually. We’ve been with each other’s blogs for a year, they started in the same week. I feel a bond with her that I simply cannot explain, a pull towards her. Her art makes me weep with longing. If you don’t know her already, you really should. I still want to introduce you to my Atlantic ocean Diana.

The simply charming Ulla. Ulla and I talk regularly on Twitter now, I lurk on her blog all the time and sometimes have a moment to comment! But what I love about Ulla is that she understands what it is to strive for something, to put effort into it. And that understanding enables her to see it in others, and then support and encourage them all the better for it. Nurturing, supportive, wonderful woman. Oh, and she can do spooky things with weather. You have been warned ;o)

My very own writer buddy in Oz, Graham Storrs. I said a long while ago that I want to have a cold beer with Graham one day. That would involve me travelling to the other side of the world to a continent with very scary spiders in it, so that should give you an indication of how much I rate him. We have had parallel journeys over the last year, and he is having his debut novel published this year too! A fantastic writer (his short stories are in the same area of my heart reserved for Ray Bradbury) and a fantastic bloke who is not afraid to write his mind. I love him for it.

The third post published on this site was an event in itself – it was mentioned by Havi and suddenly, a whole host of people arrived. I floated for a week! The following people, a thousand blessings upon them, have stayed since.

The sparkling Rosa Say who knits the marvellous Joyful Jubilant Learning community together. I’ve written a couple of posts for it, and have a mountain to catch up on there, but I am ever thankful to her for such a warm welcome. She is an inspiration to me online: warm, generous and with a mission. She rocks!

The simply marvellous Kate Harding. Now, I’m biased here, as she is my very best friend in the real world, but I just wanted it on record that I think she is one of the bravest, most creative and intelligent souls I have the privilege of sharing this life with. She made my business site by the way. How pretty is that? Kate made that.

And then there’s Dianne Whiddon-Brown. I have a special fondness for Dianne, I fell in love with her (in that non-scary internet way) when she talked so openly about how writing can be maddening, scary and just plain hard sometimes. We connected on Twitter yesterday and it made me so happy as I hadn’t heard from her in a while. It also creeped me out slightly as I had been wondering how she was only minutes before…

Christy, ah Christy, I love her too! Smart? Oh yes? Supportive? Absolutely! And if it wasn’t for Christy and how she bullied and triple-dog-dared encouraged me to enter the Collective Inkwell contest all those months ago, this site wouldn’t look as pretty as it does now. She also very kindly gave me some coaching to prepare for podcasting, so if you’re enjoying my weekly chapters, you should send a little gratitude to her for making them sound the way they do. She has a site about that by the way, over at http://www.onlinesoundadvice.com/. She knows her stuff.

In heels or not, next up on the medal podium is the amazing Joely Black. You also have her to thank for the podcasts, as she inspired me to take the plunge. I made a four hour trip to Manchester, with the same trip back the next day, just to go to her Tweet-up / book podcast launch. That’s how much I rate her. Joely, you’ve been a great support and inspiration, thank you.

I smiled when I got to the next person: Caroline. Caroline will always be immensely important to me, as not only has she been around all this time, and still comments (on every post since, I think) regularly, she is also the first person I have found through my blog to then meet in the real world. We went to a workshop in London and it was just fantastic. Caroline, you single-handedly made me feel like the luckiest writer in the world that day, and since actually. Thank you. Just let me know when I can link to your site, okay?

Tony Noland  is last on the list but absolutely not the least. Back when Tony commented, and when I got to know him better later on, I had the feeling that he was pretty frustrated with everything to do with writing and blogging and where the two met. It’s been a joy to see him gaining a following over the last year, in particular with the Friday Flash stories he writes, and he always takes the trouble to let me know what he thinks of my stories. For a writer, that means the world. So from one writer to another Tony, I’m glad to know you, and that you are still in my online life a year later.

You know, I could spend days telling you about the other amazing people who have come into my life through this blog. I’d tell you about Joanna Young and what she means to me, I’d tell you about Brad Shorr and Robert Hruzek and George Angus, all of whom make me smile when they come onto Twitter. I’d include the eternally lovely Paul (@Nattars) and Sam (@futurenostalgic) and oh, so many others, too many others! I can feel a total revamp of my resources page coming on….

So, happy birthday Post-Apocalyptic Publishing! How much you’ve changed over the last year, and what wonders the next year holds… You guys are coming with me, right?

Tagged as: blog birthday, post-apocalyptic genre, post-natal depression