Year in review - sadly sober and serious

A few days ago I read my first LJ year in review. I decided that I wouldn't do one because it's been a tough year and keeping the impossible bits to myself seemed sensible. I was putting out the rubbish this morning (symbolic, much?) and I realised how many amazing and wonderful things there were in 2009, too. I won't give you all the tough aspects and I'll only give you the bits of my life that I can talk about publicly. In other words, this isn't my whole year. Be thankful for that!

Let's get the bad bits over first.

1 January 2009 I was only just beginning to recover from 2008. My immune system had gone into meltdown in 2008, but a year later I was on megacortisones and things were beginning to calm. I'm ending 2009 not through the woods, but I'm no longer on 50 mg of cortisone a day and I can do occasional fun things, like movies and Chanukah parties. I did them in 2008, I admit, but every second hurt and I ended up sicker each time. Now I'm stable.

kitzen_kat and anyone else who has experienced death this year, please skip this paragraph. Last January I wasn't stable. Even if I had been incredibly well, one hot day would have been the worst in my year and one of the worst in my life. My second father collapsed in the big January heatwave. Oddly, the worst day wasn't the day he died, it was the day I went to Melbourne to say farewell. I was still on cortisone (of course), but I also had a lovely fever from a charming virus. When I got off the plane in Melbourne it was 39 degrees. No-one was able to meet me at the airport, so I made my way to the hospital by public transport. Les was in a coma in the same intensive care unit that had terrified my childhood, so getting there alone was one of the hardest things I've ever done. When I was there, my brother met me and I was not alone. Until I saw Les. He wasn't there. We sat with his empty body, watching his autonomic systems do heroic work until the whole family was in agreement that he could be let go. That was one hell of a week. This year begins with the consecration of his grave – it will be closure, I hope.

Just before then, a bunch of Masques crises began. They landed on me, because well, they did. Elizabeth Fitzgerald helped out bigtime, as did Andrew McKiernan. Without them, and without 20 hour days (remember, this was when I was still seriously unwell) Masques would not have happened. The three of us pulled it out of the mire by the end of January. It came out on time and it was good. Not perfect, but considering that at one stage the typeset version had melted down entirely and other equally bad stuff had happened, it was very good indeed. These things are relative.

So. The year started badly. I lost more friends (mostly elderly) throughout the year. Same as 2008, in fact. You'd think I'd be used to death by now. I'm not. Each friend or relative who dies makes my life smaller.

On a more trivial note, my income was down because of the recession. Not a big thing, unless you're living just above the breadline anyway because of being ill. And I had a long series of household appliances breaking down – same as 2008, but only one appliance the same (my refrigerator). I still need to sort out keys and phone – I think everything else is fixed or has stopgap remedies.

Now for the good stuff.

My mother and I have grown closer. We were close anyway, but we're closer now.

Some of my friends haven't so much as rung to say "Long Life" or "How are you?" but a few have stayed with me through thick and thin. Even when their own lives were falling to pieces, they've kept in touch and made sure I wasn't alone. This was particularly important, because losing a father then coming off those megadoses of cortisone led to depression. Things could easily have been very bad. Thank you for being there for me.

Masques came out, and I had a short story published despite myself, and Life Through Cellophane came out and has had totally lovely reviews. The Art of Effective Dreaming is moving closer to publication, despite the simmering distrust the universe seems to bear it. It has an ISBN and a cover and is up to the final stages. That was pretty good, considering more things got in the way in 2009.

And there's Baggage. It comes out next year, but the editing was a 2009 thing. It's the most amazing thing I've ever worked on. If you want to learn a lot about writing, edit a bunch of outstanding writers and do it live or through chat, not just through swapping manuscripts. I hope the Baggage authors weren't too worried about my approach: for me, it was perfect.

I've had lots of fabulous books to read this year. Some of them I've had as review copies and some as loans from friends and a few as gifts, some from draws and competitions, and when I've had money and there haven't been any apparent crises, I've bought some myself. I've discovered a bunch of new favourite authors and rediscovered old favourites.

I've learned a lot. That makes a year good despite everything. Years without learning are years without living, for me.

I managed to start travelling a little. Sydney and Melbourne, mainly. In 2008 I was so ill that I basically went to Sydney and Melbourne and then sat round, being relieved I didn't have to do housework when I was too sick. This year I even managed a day on Sydney Harbour!

I wrote a book and am just editing it now. And it's not full of death and doom and gloom, either. My beta readers seem to really like it and only one has suggested anything more than a light edit. This means my writing is improving. (My sending stuff off to publishers needs a kick up the backside, though – I still can't believe that anyone wants to read my fiction, despite significant evidence to the contrary.)

I had good days, even in January. The best January day was a Lord of the Rings marathon. Full of snark and friendship and good food.

There were a bunch of SF conventions. Flycon and Continuum and Conflux and the Sydney Freecon. I was on the committee for two of them. I do think I might not be entirely sensible, sometimes.

I have watched much anime. Much, much, much anime. Anime is the upside of being ill. My favourite is still ROD TV, though I love others as well. My anime friends have helped keep me sane.

I had guest appearances. I'm still amused that people wanted me for guest appearances. They all went well, though, whether radio or livespeech. My favourite was the floor talk for the Canberra Museum and Art Gallery (though MCing a folk dance event was pretty cool). Not only did it go well, but my mother was a guide for the same exhibition in Melbourne. Mother/daughter thing – yay!

There's more. It's been a surprisingly big year given I've only had one day when I actually felt well. I've run out of steam, though, so I'll let you imagine the rest.