The second month into the year already! Time flies when … well, it just flies no matter what, right?

Last month, I shared with everyone that I had three major goals for 2025, and that they required me to front load my year. First, the dreaded taxes. Second, something I couldn’t at the time share. Third, and arguably most important, the new book.

Somehow, someway, I’m on schedule. Those who know me may be surprised by that. I often find myself moaning in (I’m sure) annoying fashion about all I have to do, and how I’m concerned because I’m behind. Yet – perhaps due to my “odd year theory” – my efforts thus far are as organized as they are successful. Not bragging, trust me. I’m as astonished as anyone. But I’ll take the “W.”

What’s the “odd year theory,” you ask? Fine. I’ll spill it. You’ll laugh, but I don’t care. Well, maybe a little.

In full disclosure, I’ll share that I “may” have a little OCD. It most noticeably manifests itself in the way I conduct research, and in my dealings with numbers. Specifically, odd vs. even numbers. I try to limit my engagement with “even numbers.” They bother me. I’m not running down the street, shrieking over them or anything. I just don’t like them. Strangely, my idiosyncrasy has attached itself to the passing of years.

Last year, I accomplished precious little. I had zero energy. The audiobook project (remember the scammer?) tanked. My Miami trip was unsuccessful. I felt negative when contemplating my future (nothing huge – basically worrying I might not be able to write this upcoming book). A general feeling of anxiety and stress toppled over me like an avalanche from which I couldn’t dig myself out. The final four months of the year, I did nothing aside from binge-watching all ten seasons of the Holiday Baking Championship.

It’s not unique to 2024. It happened in 2022, as well as in most even numbered years as far back as I can remember.

So far this year, the theory continues to prove itself accurate. We’re in an odd numbered period, thankfully. I find myself hopeful and energetic. I feel sharper. Organized. Capable. Consistent with my odd numbered experiences as far back as I can recollect. Even both my children were born in odd numbered years.

I know – it’s not real. But it feels real to me. I can set my calendar by it (and I do).

Getting back to the three tasks before me in 2025. Due to my early accomplishments, I can be a little more specific. I’ve already mentioned the taxes. Well, they’re done! That’s right. I finished and sent our tax guy all our documents a week ago. What a sense of relief! I wish I could bottle it. I don’t know what it is about doing the annual accounts, but it has me virtually clinging to the ceiling by my fingernails. Nonetheless, 33% of my year’s goals are finished!

As for the second task, I can finally talk about it. I made the decision a couple of years ago, shortly after signing my updated contract with my publisher, that I preferred going it alone. Many factors went into this decision. I realize most of us just want to sign with a publisher – I mean, what’s wrong with me, right? Well, the details are private. Suffice to say, it’s better in my case for me to handle all aspects of my work and hire professionals (editor, cover designer, publicist, etc.) as needed.

In late December – probably my last “official” act of the year – I sent my publisher my notice of non-renewal. The contract term’s up as of April 1^st, so I wanted to ensure the courtesy of a 90-day notice. It was well-received, and everyone’s working together to ensure the transition of my books to my new imprint will be as painless as possible.

As of April 1^st, my work will be published under “Word Rites Media.” If you’ve seen any of the book trailers I’ve created, you may have noted the end credits (who am I kidding? no one watches those!), where Word Rites Media is mentioned. I’ve used it for years. Presently, I’m commissioning a logo and putting together a few branding items, getting my business license, etc. Hopefully, the positive momentum fueled by my lovely odd numbered year will continue.

The final 2025 project – the true crime book – is going fairly well. I’ve hooked up with some amazing folks who’ve spent an extraordinary amount of time conducting their investigation. They’ve been generous with their theories and findings. Coupling that with some new information I’ve received from a former classmate of mine (I’ve mentioned him before – he’s a former sheriff in the county the murders occurred), I’m encouraged. I’m confident that I could write the book at this point without any further information. However, each time I think I’m ready to roll up my sleeves and start typing, I learn something new.

How is it possible to grow up in a town so small they announce your birthday each year in the local paper, yet have no idea how much darkness exists beneath the surface?

An Indie director/friend in New York once told me I was naïve. I rejected the assertion. Sure, I tend to envision the best in folks. Yes, I’ve been shocked to varying degrees by most people I’ve known. I get used or swindled sometimes. Even so, I naturally assume everyone’s happy and normal and has good intentions. Just because I’m not automatically suspicious of every person I encounter doesn’t mean I’m naïve. I’ve seen ugly, trust me. Things I don’t like discussing. Things normal folks don’t like to hear or know about.

But this?

As I talk to folks in the county where this crime happened, I realize there exists in that place an undercurrent of evil. Something I never realized. Without going into a “poor me” biography, I can say my childhood was pretty rotten on about every level. Even so, it appears I may have been spared from encountering something worse.

Sharing these details here, in my monthly blog, would be unwise. I don’t want to spoil the book. What I will say is that I’ve learned of some next-level Twin Peaks-style junk happening there. Things that were happening around the time I lived there. Things that were going on at the time of the murders. Things that continue to this day. It’s dark. Very dark. Now that I know, it unnerves me.

Perhaps that’s a good place to leave off for the month. I have a couple of meetings to schedule, more research to do, and of course more busy work to complete before I migrate the Music is Murder saga to its fancy new imprint. It’s a short month, February, so I guess I’ll catch you again sooner rather than later.

For now, stay safe, stay sane, and stay odd!