At This Rate, I'll Never Shoot Lincoln

Today I am as old--to the day--as John Wilkes Booth was when he shot Lincoln. At this rate, I'll never shoot Lincoln. Steve Bartman was roughly my age when--ten years ago this week--he entered a strata that, in the eyes of slightly stupider Cubs fans, is roughly Booth's moral level.

I don't believe in quarter-life crises; one of about sixteen reasons I don't work for Buzzfeed. I enrolled in grad school to reach toward better, happier life. And I'll make it there, I'm starting to think, even if if 2016 seems years away. As I inch closer to 27, a quiet and dignified jaunt to 30 and beyond seems less shameful.

My writing was not a ticket to premature fame. Maybe it's the Dogfish Head Raison D'Etre talking, but for the first time in my life, I'm entirely okay with that. I was always at least mildly comfortable with it, or I'd never have gone the self-publishing route. I've made my peace with all that. I was never built for public scrutiny, anyway.

If it happens one day, if I explode out of here, well... it happens. And it'll be unfortunate for me and for the rest of the universe. But I'll be better prepared for it than I was at 25, when I self-published Nos Populus, when I started this blog. If it doesn't happen--if this poorly-named blog is all the outlet I ever have--that might be better still.

Buy Nos Populus here. Or don't. Up to you.