I sent my last email to this space cadet yesterday afternoon saying, it’s not me, it’s you. This person had so many strange dictates and decrees of what I should do, over several emails, that I thought, nah, life is just too short to deal with you. I get that others, in this case, writers will do anything for a contract and put up with all sorts of crap to get it because – I don’t know – maybe they’re scared of not getting another one or burning bridges or are people pleases. I dunno. I do know that life is short and Shakespeare was spot on when he said ‘to thine own self by true.’ I’m not into selling my soul or accepting less. But that’s me.
I wished the space cadet well. Maybe she’s got issues. Maybe it’s about toying with writers for this person. Don’t know. Don’t care. I can only do as my conscience dictates and no one else has to agree with it or like it. That’s what 2014 is about. Being myself, being authentic and avoiding space cadets.
It’s a new day – a new year. I feel pretty good. Bring it 2014. I can deal.