Kage Baker had one dependable solution for those moments when the world became too much for her. That was to write.
Because really, kids, let’s be honest. Unless you are Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm (or on serious drugs. Or maybe both … ) something will get to you. It may be be the sudden stroke of black lightning; or, as some depressed folks call it, the bite of the black dog. It may come gradually over time, the slow accumulation of weight that makes the snow avalanche or the earth dance. But it will come, though you cry ever so much.
Everyone gets the blues, as they say. Depressive people just know about it. Kage did not have depression. But she knew how to deal with the occasional eclipse of joy, and that was always the writing: The Work. Two hours of writing did her more good than a month of Prozac would have, I think.
I, on the other hand, am depressive. I’m a responsible adult: I take my daily Prozac and try to avoid triggers. However, one can only avoid obvious triggers, triggers that are basically known, or environmental. Like, if you know something plunges you into the Stygian depths of irrational despair, you stay away from it. This is why I never, ever look at Hello, Kitty. Don’t judge, now …
Anyway, aside from the perils of cartoon cats (she really brings me down … ), which are pretty easy to avoid, there is always the tragic chance of a blitz. I got up early this morning, but not in time for a cheery binge of Supernatural and Bones – instead, what with all the turmoil in the last 48 hour of news, I sat through 3 hours of MSNBC. Like I said, responsible adult.
And like a responsible, informed adult, now I want to go stick my head in a bucket full of Scotch. Or maybe chocolate. Anyway, I am falling slightly down the rabbit hole … but this time, I’m telling people! In writing, no less. So, all will be well, eventually.
I’m still kind of hoping for that damned giant meteor to hit. In the meantime, there are books, and blueberry waffles, and my family, and Harry, and Whopper Malted Milk eggs, and the sweet Spring rain falling now. And The Work.
Yep. That, all of it, is what matters.
Hope you are feeling better, you are quiet again. Thinking about you and I have a binge for you on Netflix. El Ministerio del Tiempo, the Ministry of Time. It is so much better than any American series in this genre. Here is a recent review from an Engish fan:
“Found this whilst browsing Netflix on a boring afternoon. Three 70 minute ‘binge’ watching later and I was totally hooked. It is subtitled into English but that is really no problem. This is a time travel Ministry located in Madrid – every country has secrets – Spain’s is time travel and run by civil servants not the military which makes a change. Imagine a secret branch of the Spanish civil service spread backwards through time – sorting out temporal irregularities whilst complaining about budget cuts. You need a composite drawing of a suspect – no problem – the ministry’s artist is Velasquez who is obsessed with Picasso. It is has moments of laugh out load humour and beautiful examples of culture shock but balanced with very dark and challenging ideas all set within strong stories. It has a very ‘European’ style which feels very different to the American programmes we get swamped with in the UK. There are no ‘mini dramatic moments’ where you know the advert break would be or the ‘meaningful looks to camera’ and definately no ‘syrupy endings’. I find myself rushing to Wikipedia after an episode to get the background of Spanish history. Enter our heroes – a new ‘crash team’ – consisting of Spain’s first female university student and team leader, As the Under Secretary in charge says ‘In our time she could have been anything – make her team leader’, a knight from the 16th century (‘Put him in a room with a modern marine armed only with a knife and the marine wouldn’t stand a chance’) and a present day paramedic. These are really strong and complex characters each with their own issues. The acting is really good and the writers are happy to have fun – ‘Plan? We are Spanish, we improvise!’ If you haven’t found this series yet I urge you to do so. Three seasons so far, so fear not – it won’t be cancelled if you like me get hooked.”
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Hope you are feeling better and that we hear from you soon. The internet jungle is a better place with the addition of your wit and snark.
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