Home Alone on New Year’s Eve …

A Time to reflect and to thank my Medium Brothers and Sisters for their support when the bottom of my world dropped out

It’s 8:20 PM and outside of a few cherry bombs exploding down the block, you’d think it was any other night but New Year’s Eve. I’m alone. But it’s because I choose to. It’s the way I’ve celebrated the New Year for the last five or so. Alone. Except for Sirius, my 12-year-old Shih Tzu. I’ll snap on the TV at 11:50 and watch the ball drop in Times square.

Whoop-de-freakin’-do, right?

But it does give me roughly 3 1/2 hours to allow my mind to rove over the highlights — and the one light that almost got snuffed out — in 2023 if it had not been for you folks, the Medium readers and writers. I fondly call you my Brothers and Sisters … for good reason.

I came back to Medium after roughly a two year hiatus (during which time I wrote for a site called FanStory where I like to think I honed my craft). During those two years I kept my membership active with Medium, popping in with a story now and again.

In September, however, I let my FanStory membership lapse and figured it was time to devote all my energies to Medium.

The first thing I posted that I felt truly proud of was a short story. It was published by The Kraken Lore and was my first story to be boosted. It was entitled “Lips.”

That was followed by a memoir of my young adulthood in San Antonio, Texas. I called it, “The View From the Window of My Tiny Stone Cottage.” It also was boosted.

Then on October 11th, what happened to me leaves me physically ill, even today. I had no choice but to write about it, or I knew I would go mad. I had experienced nothing in my life that attacked my brain and heart on so visceral a level. The title speaks for itself: “I Was a Witless Co-Conspirator in a $6,000 Scam.”

I don’t know whether the fact that Medium boosted it brought more eyeballs to it. All I know is that the response to it was overwhelming, kind and understanding. And the 86 people who commented on the piece, who shared their hearts with me, I count as my friends — my Sisterhood and Brotherhood.

My morale and my regained sense of self-worth may have been responsible for my next three boosted stories.

The first was another memoir, this time covering one of my more volatile teen years:

The next boosted story (article really), I’m happy to say, gave me the headiest financial reward and allowed me a brief glimpse into what is entirely achievable in 2024. That article was:

The final boosted story in 2023 was one that was most experimental of all my works and that was probably why it had the most disappointing stats. It does, however, prove the point that a “boost” is no guarantee of readership. Still, it remains the one I am most proud of. It’s called “Jeremy and the Magic Place.”

Well, Brothers and Sisters, here it is 9:44 PM. Over two hours to wait for the ball to drop.

You know what?

I think the old year can slip out the wings without me giving it a shove, and someone will be there to make sure the new year has on a fresh diaper and is given a full, rounded teat to suck.

Do you mind? I’ll just tilt my coffee mug toward you, two hours early, and thank you for all your support in 2023. I honestly don’t think I could have made it without you. I wish I could look each of you in the eyes and wish you the Happiest and Most Prosperous of New Years of your life.

Now, if you don’t mind, I’m just going to toddle off to bed.

JS