As I start writing this post at 10:23 a.m. on New Year’s Eve, we have no concrete plans for ringing in 2019. That’s mighty different from last year, when we wrangled more than a dozen people from several different states to gather for a weekend of activities in Palm Springs. It’s also different from pretty much every other year prior. But, then again, 2018 turned out to be The Year of Doing Things Differently (But Also Kind Of The Same).

It was the first full year Sara and I were California residents. I officially gave up my Nevada license plates and driver license. It still didn’t feel quite like home. Part of the problem was that I wasn’t really tied to anything here in Orange County. My friends, my collaborators, and my work were all still in Las Vegas. I was traveling across the Mojave by plane and car at least once a month, sometimes twice a month. When I wasn’t going to Vegas for work or play, I was traveling elsewhere for the same, either solo or with Sara. Huntington Beach was the place where we paid rent and parked our cars, but I wouldn’t say it was necessarily where we lived. Or at least, where I lived.

One of the factors causing that disconnect was starting production on (and building an amazing community of support around) Parkway of Broken Dreams, my long-discussed, long-delayed documentary film about the rise and fall of the cultural scene around UNLV in the 1990s. Although this wasn’t specifically one of my stated goals in last year’s look-back/look-ahead (just filmmaking in general), it was one of my 2015 goals, so I guess better late than never. But, to the point above, it did necessitate a lot of trips to Vegas to shoot interviews and capture footage. So did another behind-the-camera project I started with Vegas-based writer Matt Sorvillo, whose own screenwriting career saw a bump this year. That one you’ll probably be hearing about soon.

The other thing that kept me in Vegas so often was my work for A Very Cool Las Vegas Hotel-Casino, of course. I’d spent the last year and a half remotely managing web content for that center-Strip resort, which as I mentioned before, kept me very busy—and also very isolated. I spent about nine months almost entirely focused on a website overhaul that included the roll-out of a fully integrated rewards portal. It turned out pretty great, and I’m proud of the work we did, but it also took an emotional (and probably physical) toll—one made worse by the physical distance between the rest of the team and myself. So, right before Thanksgiving, I stepped down from my role there, fairly satisfied with the incredible work I helped produce over my two and a half years, including the launch of the (minor award-winning) lifestyle blog 52 Stories and a zillion behind-the-scenes projects that only digital marketing nerds would really appreciate.

Cutting that last daily tie to Vegas, and then moving from a condo in Huntington Beach to a house in Costa Mesa, helped feeling like an actual full-time Californian (again) more real. So did getting acquainted with a rotating group of creative folks thanks to a weekly coffee meetup helmed by long-time pal (and now neighbor) Todd A, whose books and podcasts you should definitely check out. It’s helped me to explore and appreciate more of Orange County (a goal from last year), and it’s led to new artistic collaborations with folks I otherwise would not have met.

The other thing both the move and the changing employment situation enabled was having the freedom to get the heck out of the house. When we moved from Vegas into the condo in Huntington Beach, our two little Pekingese furbabies didn’t adjust very well, and they would get super anxious when left alone. This meant they’d bark nonstop, and when you share walls with neighbors, that doesn’t go over well. Thankfully, because of my remote work situation, I was able to minimize their alone time, but it did mean we’d have to either take them with us if we went out to eat (thankfully, in Southern California, this isn’t really a problem most places), or pay to board them if we wanted to engage in activities that aren’t pet-friendly. It was pretty ridiculous. So, we moved out of the condo (sadly, because we really liked it) and into a standalone house where we could ease them out of their abandonment issues without pissing off quite so many neighbors. And it worked, even if now the pups don’t get to hang out with us as much.

All that ridiculousness aside—and disregarding the dumpster fire that the year was politically, financially, and environmentally—2018 was personally pretty successful, using my stated goals at the beginning of the year as a gauge. I did finish and publish another volume of The Utopian, which was also the last comic work I’ll be publishing for a while as I shift all of my creative attention to film and TV projects. Along those lines, I also had minor success pitching a dramatic comedy TV series that has been gestating for several years, making it to the quarter-finals of the ATX Television Festival Pitch Competition, and receiving helpful notes and feedback from a few producers and managers. And I even knocked out a pilot script and proposal for another drama series (which admittedly needs a lot of work), as well as the proposal for a true-crime series that was well-received by at least one producer.

I also did a lot of travelling, but mostly the same kind as 2017: domestically, and often for work. I did make it to a few new spots—San Antonio, New Orleans, Vail—but also a lot of the same (Denver, Seattle, San Diego). And, as mentioned above, a lot of trips to Vegas, which is really more of just a long commute at this point. I didn’t make it outside of the country this year, and probably won’t in 2019 unless there’s a film festival involved.

The other goal I accomplished—with the fiscal help of Parkway of Broken Dreams supporters—was getting a new, dedicated computer for media production. Although at the beginning of 2018 I thought it would be something to help with comic and illustration work, by the time I bought it, it was a Dell gaming PC, not a Surface Pro as planned, optimized for video rendering to help speed up my editing and post-production film work. It’s weird working at home on a Windows desktop (feels a bit like 2005), but it was the most bang for my buck compared to what I could get out of an equivalent Mac setup.

Now, with 2018 firmly in the rear-view, we can get to the fun part: Setting intentions for the year ahead. As always, I make my personal goals public to keep myself accountable to the world, as much as to help with my own project planning. So, here we go:

• Finish Parkway of Broken Dreams: Although a lot of work has been done on this film, a lot more lies ahead, including the longest, hardest part: editing. I’m not going to get too much into the details here—there’s an entire website for that—but suffice it to say that this will consume most of my “free” time in 2019.
• Start a film production company: This is cheating a little bit, because I’ve already started making moves on this, but as I ramp down the comics publishing business, I’m not only refocusing my creative energy on filmed media, but also my entrepreneurial instincts. Obviously, I already have a few projects in the hopper, but I’d like to formalize this and start diversifying my portfolio, as well as increase my collaborations with other filmmakers locally.
• Produce a scripted TV pilot: And when I write “TV,” that just means an episodic project versus a standalone film, distribution method to-be-determined. As mentioned above, I have two pilots already finished, and I’m working on a new one in my first collaborative writing project, and this is just the next logical step. Realistic for a year in which I already have to finish a feature-length documentary and get a new (unscripted) webseries out the door while paying the bills? Even if it’s just a proof of concept, yes.
• Dedicate more time and effort to self-care: I really expected to live a healthier lifestyle moving away from Sin City and to a place where it’s nice outside like 99 percent of the year. Because of the above-mentioned reasons, that didn’t happen. In 2019, it has to. My new career direction is already providing a better work-life balance, and I’m actually taking steps to get my body in as good of shape as my mind to match. Don’t catch me slipping.
• Be a better friend and more thoughtful family member: I tend to get wrapped up in my own stuff, and anything or anyone that’s not immediately within my sphere of attention often gets ignored. This isn’t anything new; I’ve never been good with family stuff, and I’m bad at being present in general. But I need to change that. Letting holidays or birthdays pass without even an acknowledgment? Not cool. Making travel plans that never include seeing my parents? Lame. On the flipside…
• Cut out negativity and toxicity: I’ve already done a surprisingly good job of staying out of drama merely by not engaging in anything that might invite it online. To continue doing this going forward means unfollowing or even unfriending people on social media who don’t add anything meaningful or positive to my life. And it means being more positive in my own interactions—less snark, less ironic detachment, more earnest celebration of people and things that I love. And recognizing that longevity in relationships does not equal meaning or importance.
• Reduce, reuse, recycle: A dozen years ago, everything I owned fit in the back of a panel van. Not that I want to go back to that, but both Sara and I have a garage full of boxes and bins stuffed with who-knows-what from our collective decade of moving houses, changing jobs, and (in my case) shifting creative interests. We both have some simplifying to do. Do I keep the drum set I haven’t played more than a few times since As Yet Unbroken parted ways in 2013? Do I sell the comic book collection that’s been taking up space in various closets and storage units, unread? Does anyone know what I should do with the 20 Ethernet cables I’ve accumulated over the years? In 2019, we’ll find out.

Wow. This year spawned a longer post than expected. We’re around 1,800 words here. Last year’s was about 1,000, by comparison. And those goals? A lot more touchy-feely than I expected. But when everything else is doing pretty well in measurable, tangible ways, what’s left is the intangible. And in the long run, that’s the stuff that really matters.

Along those lines, I’m off to go celebrate the coming of the new year with those oft-disregarded important people in my life. You should do the same. See you in 2019. Let’s all be better to each other and ourselves, eh?