As we reach the end of another year, I find myself taking stock of what I've accomplished. It’s easy to feel as if I haven't achieved much, but when I look back and catalogue everything, it’s clear I've made significant strides. Despite a year full of upheavals and obstacles that slowed my writing journey, I've kept pushing forward. As a result, my confidence has taken a few hits, that just means I’m a writer, right?
Revising and Refining
This year, I've poured countless hours into revising my 80,000-word manuscript. Taking onboard the feedback from the Queensland Writers Centre Publishable program, I completed another draft. It's as good as my current skills allow, so I'm submitting it to another manuscript development competition that also provides feedback. I'm both excited and nervous about how it will be received. My story is a unique blend of low, urban, military fantasy set in the early twentieth century—a clash of genres that I'm told is what makes a good story. You take familiar elements, mix them up, and tell them in your unique voice. I believe I’ve done that.
My plan is to submit the manuscript and see where that takes me. If this doesn’t pan out, Plan B is to save up for a professional editor and perhaps consider self-publishing. Plan A is to win Powerball. I believe my story is too good to go to waste, and I’m sure someone out there would enjoy reading it.
Exploring New Platforms
Another highlight this year has been writing a novella during my lunch breaks at work. I managed to write between 1,500 and 2,000 words a week, publishing each chapter on Royal Road for a total of 27,700 words. This platform is new to me, and I’ve probably made some mistakes by releasing chapters weekly instead of waiting to complete the story and publish all at once. Despite not having a notable social media following, I garnered 1,500 total views, with an average of 106 views per page.
Though feedback from readers was sparse, reflecting back, I see areas for improvement. After all, it’s a draft, and I have room to grow. The story, a high fantasy adventure with light-hearted comedy, started as a short story on Substack last year.
For those interested. LINK: The Hero's Gaze
The idea of turning my fantasy short stories into an interconnected world of novellas excites me.
Short Story Competitions
I've also written a few short stories, including one for the Genrecon 2025 Short Story competition. Although my recent entry in a competition didn’t win any prizes, I learned a lot from the experience. The challenge was to write a 500-word story on the theme “burnout.” My mind immediately went to my time in a corporate environment—working in a windowless cubicle, surrounded by spreadsheets. It felt like the walls were closing in, and it was draining me. Some people thrive in that world, but I’m not one of them. My story aimed to capture a slice of that experience.
Story Below.
Looking Ahead
Thank you for following along on my writing journey. As we move into 2025, I hope to write and post more consistently. I have a plan in mind; now it’s just a matter of executing it. That means more writing, editing, editing, and more editing. Here’s to a productive and creative new year!
FLICKER
“Burnout?” Noah leaned back in his chair and stared at the yellowing suspended ceiling. One of the three remaining fluorescent tubes in a bank of four flickered. A mouthful of air escaped through his teeth.
“So they say,” Sophie slid her headphones back into place.
Noah swivelled slightly to the left and glanced at the vacant workstation in the other corner of the cubicle. A mess of papers remained untouched for three days. Maybe a few more dockets had been added in that time.
“Do you think,” Noah spun back to Sophie and waved a hand. She pulled her headphones down while still looking at her screen.
“Reckon they’ll replace him?” Noah continued. “If he doesn’t...come back.”
“Depends,” Sophie shrugged. “They didn’t last time.”
Noah’s eyes drifted to the empty corner diagonally to his workstation. Sophie's keyboard clacked away. The icon in the bottom right-hand corner of Noah’s screen turned yellow. His hand grabbed the mouse and wriggled. His thumb slammed the keyboard in rapid succession. The icon turned green. Noah pinched his bottom lip between his teeth.
“He had kids, didn’t he?” Noah pulled up his task list.
“Think so.”
There were photos on that cubical wall. Noah stopped himself from double-checking. His wall was blank. Anything pinned to it would make it closer.
“Peterson hasn’t sent out an email yet, has he?” Noah stared at the blinking curser.
“You’d get the same email I would,” Sophie went to raise her headphones then stopped. “Is he in his fishbowl?”
Noah leaned back and glanced out of the cubicle’s entrance, to the glass-walled office at the end of the walkway.
“Yeah,” Noah hunched back over his keyboard. “Still talking to HR.”
The fluorescent tube let out a droning noise as it flickered again.
“I guess that’s a good thing,” Sophie lifted her headphones to her ears.
“Maybe,” Noah tried to rub a knot out of the side of his neck. He took a sip of his coffee, the cold, bitter brew clinging to his tongue. A cruel irritant to the ulcer in his stomach.
Noah opened his mouth to say something, but the murmured wall of music stopped him. He stared at a line of code until a metallic taste in his mouth pulled his attention. He licked the wound on his bottom lip.
A flicker of memory caused him to wince. Noah searched for the rogue variable, corrected its spelling, then hit compile. Leaning back, he rubbed his eyes and stretched with a twist. Sophie no longer heard the cracking sound.
Noah took a moment to gaze into the fishbowl. Peterson glared back with his hands on his hips. Cursing, Noah updated his task list. His third of the workload now became half.
“Well,” Sophie continued typing. “There’s your answer.”
Noah looked up at the familiar water stains.
The struggling fluorescent tube flickered one last time and went dark, leaving only two lights to cast a weary glow over the cubicle.
One of the two began to flicker.
Really enjoyed reading this offering!!
Keep going!!!!