End of Year | CW Hawes

Fast Away the Old Year Passes

Fast away the old year passes,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Hail the new, ye lads and lasses:
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!

—Thomas Oliphant

Fast way, indeed, the year has passed. This is my last post for 2023. Next week is 2024. And I decided to write this post while smoking Sutliff Ready Rubbed (a simulacrum of the old Edgeworth Ready Rubbed) in my BBB Own Make Pot.

Fifty years ago I took up pipe smoking and have been a pipe smoker ever since. A pipe is a boon companion, a faithful friend. The pipe and tobacco are there for “when I feller needs a friend.” And who doesn’t need a friend every day in these troublesome times?

Earlier this year I once again took up my pipe after a lengthy hiatus. And I’m glad I did. It is indeed a boon companion with which to enjoy peaceful contemplation.

I also gave up my adherence to Stoicism; largely adapting Epicureanism in its place.

And further, I decided marketing gurus can go to perdition.

I’m sick and tired of them trying to sell me the latest marketing gee-gaw. Very little of their crap works. The tried and true marketing techniques are freely available on the internet.

The problem is that the tried and true techniques require work. And because of that, the gurus promise the suckers magic wands which require no work. And many are they who quickly part with their money to get a magic wand.

Well, I’m done with that. I be a sucker no more.

Oh, I’m still writing. I have just stopped giving a fig about how much or how little I sell.

At 71, with about 14 years left to my life (given the averages), I’ve come to the conclusion that there are more important things than selling books. Writing them, for one. Contentment, for another.

Hail the new year, all you lads and lasses. Time is precious. Fifty years ago I didn’t think of death. Today, death is constantly on my mind. I don’t fear it. Death, after all, is part of living. It’s just that the old fellow is a lot closer to me than he was 50 years ago.

Isaac Asimov, when asked what he’d do if he knew he had only one more day to live, said, “I’d write a little faster.” I’m with Isaac.

So in the new year, I’m going to do my best to write a little faster. Ill health has slowed my production down quite a bit. But things are looking brighter. I hope that brightness allows my pen to move faster.

Books and stories are the legacy we writers leave behind us when we pass on. Even so, most of us, the vast majority of us, will be quickly forgotten. Nevertheless, it is my hope that my heirs and maybe their heirs will keep my memory alive and make a few coins for themselves in the process.

So my friends, do whatever it is that makes you truly happy. Don’t waste time at Vanity Fair buying the gee-gaws and trivial ephemera. Because those things don’t bring true happiness, they just provide a fleeting high.

And if you don’t know what makes you truly happy and content, then do your darndest to find out. Because death awaits, and you don’t want to find yourself old and not ever having truly lived.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

CW Hawes is a playwright; award-winning poet; and a fictioneer, with a bestselling novel. He’s also an armchair philosopher, political theorist, social commentator, and traveler. He loves a good cup of tea and agrees that everything’s better with pizza.

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying me a cup of tea. Thanks! PayPal.me/CWHawes

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End of the Year 2019

2019 has been a very good year for me. The days have gone by quite swiftly, though, and at my age one hopes they might dally awhile. Alas, Father Time seems to be swift of foot these days. Nevertheless, swift passing or not, the days were good. I have no complaints.

My Good Days As A Writer

Wearing my writer hat, the highlight of the year was being named One of the Top 25 Mystery Writers You Need to be Reading by international bestselling authors Caleb and Linda Pirtle. Being mystery and thriller writers themselves, I’m honored to have made their list.

And the award was in addition to the fabulous reviews that came in all year for my books. The most recent being one for my new novel Death Makes A House Call.

I’ll be honest here: I don’t sell a lot of books. My earnings this year are looking to be less than $300. And there are some days I wonder if it’s worth it. However, it’s satisfying to know that there are people out there who appreciate my work. It does help me to keep going. I’m not writing into the dark. I’m writing for them.

My Good Days As A Reader

This year was a good one for reading. I discovered many new to me authors, both indie and traditionally published. Of course there were many old friends who I met in previous years. All told, I read fiction from 62 different writers.

For those who are into numbers, here’s the breakdown:

Novels/Novellas: 46

Short Story Collections: 4

Short Stories/Novelettes: 45

Non-Fiction: 9 (7 books, 1 essay, 1 True-Crime Story)

The genres my reading tended to focus on were horror and mysteries, but a little bit of everything showed up on the list — including romance. 🙂

Amongst those 62 writers were old favorites such as Ben Willoughby, RH Hale, Rex Stout, Richard Schwindt, Joe Congel, Andy Graham, and Matthew Cormack.

New to me authors included Brian Fatah Steele, H. Bedford-Jones, Lisette Brodey, Alexander Pain, John F Leonard, Terry Tyler, and KD McNiven.

I don’t particularly like making “Best of” lists. They’re highly subjective, and, for me, only reflect my opinion at the moment — which could very easily change next week.

Nevertheless, I do want to give a special shoutout for new-to-me authors Brian Fatah Steele and John F Leonard. They made a big impression on me with the power and imagination of their writing.

If cosmic horror is your thing, or just plain excellent writing, give these guys a try. Particularly Steele’s Your Arms Around Entropy and other stories, and Leonard’s Congeal.

My Good Days As A Person

2019 was good to me as a person. I’m still taking in air and sustenance. My health is reasonably good. At 67, every day I wake up breathing air instead of dirt is a very good one indeed!

Simple pleasures become a source of immense peace and comfort. Simple things such as a good meal, a cup of hot tea, a good book, a good laugh, playing with the cat, seeing the sunset, and gazing at the moon. These things can enrich your life to no end, and they cost little or nothing.

Marcus Aurelius, the Roman emperor and Stoic philosopher, wrote that “Life is opinion.” In other words, life is what we think it is. And if we choose to think it’s good — it will be.

Good and bad are relative. And because good and bad are relative, they have no absolute meaning. Which in turn means, life simply is. The good and bad of life are in our minds.

Tomorrow begins the new year. May it be a good one for you — and if you think it is, it will be.

Comments are always welcome, and until next time — happy living!

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Paintings

The new year is five days away. Many of us look back over the year and reminisce about the events in our lives. The good and bad. The things hoped for that did and did not happen. We might be filled with regret, we might be filled with joy, but one thing is for certain: everything in the past 360 days is past. It’s gone. Only memories remain.

2016 was for me a good year. Writing and publishing went well. I sold a few books and gave some away. I started learning marketing, so I have hope I might sell more books in the future. I’m another year older and not deeper in debt — and that’s very good. And I’m loving retirement. Yes, 2016 was a very good year. Perfect? Nah. But it was a good year. I’m breathing air and not dirt, I’m in reasonably good health; there’s a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food on the table. There is nothing I can legitimately complain about.

One of my joys, year in and year out, is that my wife, Raihana Dewji, paints what I think are wonderful, wonderful paintings. So I thought I would post a few of her recent paintings to close out this year’s blog posts.

The snow and cold are upon us in Minnesota; however, nothing can fetter the imagination. My wife hates the snow and cold. So her paintbrush creates a different world. One in which Winter is not coming. The snow might be blowing outside, but inside summer rules. I hope you enjoy these pictures as much as I do.

As always, comments are welcome and until next time, happy new year, and happy reading!

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