Connecting to Hopeless

I’ve been trying to share more of myself this year, as you may have noticed, in a variety of ways. I started posting content again to my friends via Facebook and Instagram. I restarted my website, with longer form writing than I used to produce on my old blog. I launched my burgeoning YouTube channel for my fountain pen hobby. I get together with friends, both old and new, more than I used to.

These efforts all come back to an intention of connection that I set for myself at the beginning of the year.

We're stronger as individuals, and stronger as a society, when we're connected. When we're connected, we get to celebrate our wins together, and we have people there to give us a hand up when we're struggling. And when things get real bad, it's those connections that keep us from spiraling down the drain.

It's the connections that we make that keep us anchored. You can build new connections; you can strengthen existing connections; or both.

We make certain choices in life because we're connected to others, because we aren't only looking out for ourselves. Sometimes it's because you don't want to let someone else down... I suspect that's the root behind a lot of organized religion:

1. If you believe in a higher power,
2. Then you don't want to disappoint that higher power,
3. So you make certain choices in the here and now to avoid consequences in an afterlife dictated by that higher power.

Call it accountability, or call it guilt. It all comes back to not wanting to disappoint others. That's powerful stuff.

I previously wrote about joining the Tough Guy Book Club, which has turned into such a joy for me. The meetings of our San Francisco chapter are one of the top highlights of every month. TGBC holds challenges for all of its members around the world. In the words of TGBC member Josh King:

Every month, the Tough Guy Book Club issues a challenge to its members. Something to push them, to challenge them, and to give them something interesting to add to their story. Challenges take all different forms…getting your cholesterol checked, designing a T-shirt, writing a poem, cleaning up a graveyard, drawing a self-portrait…you get the idea.

While not technically one of the monthly challenges, TGBC announced a Short Story competition in September. There were a few key rules when it was first announced:

1. Must be a wholly original work, never before published, no AI assistance allowed, etc. It had to be you doing the writing.
2. Must be between 3,000 and 5,000 words.
3. Must contain references to “a small friend from far away” and “something that acts as an anchor”.
4. Must be submitted by October 31, 2025. This deadline was later extended to November 30.

When I heard about this, my brain kicked into overdrive. A story idea immediately popped into my head. I knew how to fit in the awkward bit about the small friend, and I even had a way to incorporate a literal ship’s anchor. I didn’t have the full story worked out immediately, but I had enough to start putting pen to paper. The first 800 or so words flowed out of me, this story of a doomsday prepper, an incel who was smarter than all the rest of them.

Then Charlie Kirk was assassinated. Suddenly my story of a radicalized young man that was preparing for World War III felt... icky. My story’s protagonist could easily have been cast as a fan of Charlie Kirk. Worse, this fictional character profiled similar enough to the accused shooter.

I didn’t want anything to do with this character anymore. It felt too real at that moment in time. The story was shelved, and likely will never surface again.

But I wasn’t ready to give up on the idea of entering the short story competition. I just needed a fresh idea, with a new angle of how to incorporate “a small friend from far away” and “something that acts as an anchor”.

Eventually, a new idea took shape in my head, starting from the anchor. This time, it would be a metaphorical anchor, not a literal anchor. I could see how a wholly new character visualized anchoring himself to things, holding on for dear life.

From there, the character took shape, and the story around him. I wrote two-thirds of an opening scene in a rush, and outlined the rest of the opening act. I outlined four more scenes, and even had specific lines written for the ending.

And then I sat on the outline for weeks. The deadline for the competition was extended by a month, which did not help with my procrastination. In fact, it took all the wind out of my sails, not having the pressure of a deadline to keep me motivated. I've always done my best work when I'm under a deadline, going all the way back to high school.

Thankfully, I had mentioned that I was working on the short story at the October meeting for Tough Guy Book Club, and one of the guys asked me to say more about it while we were chatting during a break. Even better, he direct messaged me about it a few weeks later, asking how it was coming along. Thank you, Matt, for that nudge. Now I felt a sense of accountability, that I had to finish the story and submit it. I didn't want to let Matt down.

And yet, it still took me until Thanksgiving weekend to finish the story. The outline sat in an open Google Doc browser tab for so long that when I finally buckled down to write, I had to read it over multiple times to refresh my memory of the narrative arc.

I spent several hours on November 28 writing, getting the first scene finished, and writing the second and third scenes. I’d produced about 2500 words by that point. A few more hours on November 29 got me through the fourth and fifth scenes, and to the finish line. 4527 words in total when it was all said and done. I submitted the story through the TGBC portal ahead of the deadline.

So, now, I’m putting myself out there once more, sharing my creative writing with you. My short story, Hopeless, is now available to read on my site. Other than the front matter at the top of the page, what you’ll see there is the first draft as I submitted it, no further edits done*.

*Well, one edit. The aforementioned Matt spotted a typo that I've since corrected.

Hopeless is not a fun story to read. I’ve included a content warning at the top of the page, since it covers themes that could be triggering for some readers: alcoholism, addiction cravings, depression, parental Alzheimer’s decline, job loss, emotional distress, and strong language. It also contains brief references to medical restraint and moments of intense hopelessness.

If that’s not your jam to read, I don’t blame you. If you do read Hopeless, I hope you find something in it to appreciate, and even enjoy.

Whether you read Hopeless or not, you've read this post – so thank you. Every bit of this – the writing, the sharing, the connecting – is part of the intention I set for myself this year. I'm glad you're here with me for it.