Obstacles to writing, 12/18/25

Posted on by Henry

I’ve got a persistent computer problem; my computer will, at random intervals, lose focus on the window in which I’m working. If I’m typing, whatever I type stops being recorded. If I’m playing a game, the game stops responding to my input until I’ve clicked inside the game’s window again (yes, this gets weird with fullscreen). This has weird side effects! I’ve had my computer put the display to sleep while I was watching a video, because it lost focus on the video player and then didn’t receive any input for five minutes.

This would be merely annoying, if it weren’t for that typing problem. Having my typing interrupted because my computer lost focus on my word processor is aggravating. It’s awful.

It’s like playing music only to find that your instrument isn’t in your hands anymore. Instead, your instrument is hanging in midair, right there in front of you, but you have to reach forward and grab it again and settle back in to what you were playing. Your music only comes out in fits and starts. It is nearly impossible to relax into a flow.

If, like me, you sometimes enjoy closing your eyes and envisioning a scene and just typing until you figure out where everything is going… tough luck.

I have struggled with this. I’ve hunted through forums for similar experiences. I’ve searched for the culprits they identified, or the methods they used to find their culprits. I’ve tried setting up programming shells and running code that I found online to log whatever program keeps stealing focus. I’ve done everything… except painstakingly tagging all the documents that I want to save, copying them onto an external drive, and then reformatting my machine and starting over.

Why?

It’s a stupid reason, really: it takes time and effort that I’d rather spend writing. Or which I’d rather spend doing anything else. Yet the longer I put this off, the more time I lose and the more frustrated I become. It’s been a problem for an embarrassingly long time at this point.

I’m going to give myself a gift this holiday season. I’ll finally do the prep work necessary for a factory reset on this machine. Then, I’ll set myself up with some hot beverage(s) and a good book, and I’ll let all the necessary file transfers grind along until I can wipe this thing clean and start fresh.

Or, more likely, I’ll start this and then be busy taking care of the baby or doing house work. At least this will be done.

If you can keep it, 12/11/25

Posted on by Henry

I am not-sick again, for however long this lasts. I had nearly forgotten how good it feels to not be ill. This isn’t terribly surprising, but before my past several months of back to back sicknesses I had stopped consciously appreciating how good being well felt.

In very similar ways I had failed to appreciate how good it was…

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Sick baby part dunno of lots, 12/4/25

Posted on by Henry

Once again, I am taking care of a sick baby. This time he’s less sick! By that I mean that he’s less sick than he has been in the very recent past. He was rocking a worryingly high fever until yesterday. It had just been climbing and climbing despite our best efforts. Yesterday we returned to the doctor’s office, got a solid reassessment, and were prescribed antibiotics (which Gibby has been doing his best to spray into my face while I dose him). Now his fever has dropped significantly and he’s merely hungry, sleepy, poopy, sometimes cranky, and full of head-gunk.

I’m not caring for this sick baby alone, thank goodness. Ley and I have been swapping off or stepping in for each other as extra support. I have come to feel, however, that the nuclear family model is designed to break you. A mere two adults caring for a sick baby—with baby-induced terrible sleep and everything else—is a recipe for suffering. It’s a recipe for suffering even when those two adults take time off work. There really ought to be two to four more people on call all the time so that people can sleep, or do anything other than care for the baby. Even one more person would be a big help.

I’ve had these thoughts before.

We might have been able to avoid this fever if we’d found a better way to manage his congestion from his fever two weekends ago. He produced lots of snot while fighting that (milder) fever. That was good, mucus helps! He didn’t manage to eject all that mucus though, and his resulting congestion likely fed his current ear infection—in other words, his body’s healthy reaction to the previous virus created fertile ground for this bacterial infection. Next time he gets snotty and feverish, we’ll need to find more ways to help him drain all the mucus instead of allowing it to linger and get infected.

Giving thanks, 11/27/25

Posted on by Henry

I exist because strangers chose to welcome my ancestors and care for them. That willingness to welcome others, to provide for outsiders and see them through hard times, is something that I feel deeply grateful for. Whenever I hear people speak of Thanksgiving, I am reminded of these things. I am humbled and inspired.

Thinking with appreciation and humility, how have others helped and welcomed you or your ancestors? How can you offer help and welcome to others going forward? A door was opened for you or your ancestors—you were helped through hard times, or given an opportunity, or saved when life looked grim. What can you do to open that door for others to come?

Who may yet become your family?

We are all strangers to one another, until we are not. 

Boots, halfway through: A Marine-shaped box

Posted on by Henry
The less morbid option for a Marine-shaped box

I’ve watched more of Boots, finishing episode four and just barely starting episode five. The show’s message feels clearer now. My initial curiosity is congealing into grim resignation.

Boots isn’t bad. It’s well crafted. The character portrayals and overt construction of masculinity that piqued my curiosity still remain. I can still enjoy picking through and examining them. I can enjoy stripping them for parts.

The show isn’t bad/wrong, the storytelling isn’t bad/wrong, but I like Boots less now.

Why?

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Have baby, still sick; 11/13/25

Posted on by Henry

I have a piece in the works revisiting Boots, but I’ve been doing extra baby duty this week and I’m well past the point of being sick for a month. You’ll have to wait a little longer.

Instead, please accept this (relevant) link to a video essay by Schnee about recognizing when and how you’re being propagandized. This is kind of a spoiler but I’ll be referring to Schnee’s video in that larger piece on Boots.

Does your game need more carrots?

Posted on by Henry

The carrot is more effective than the stick. That’s especially true when running a game. In fact, failing to give your players enough carrots might cause them to lose interest and stop playing. But what makes a good carrot?

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2/3rds through Cold Fire, by Tamora Pierce

Posted on by Henry

I’ve gotten stuck.

I loved Tamora Pierce’s Circle of Magic series, her first quartet about Sandry, Briar, Daja, and Tris. I was eager to read the next quartet. For the most part, I still am.

I breezed through the first two books in this quartet. Sandry’s book (Magic Steps) and Briar’s book (Street Magic) both went by so quickly that I nearly inhaled them. Daja’s book, Cold Fire, has really slowed me down.

I try to find times in the day when I can sneak in a little bit of reading. Often enough this ends up being at night while I’m lying in bed. I’ll read a chapter, then set the book down. Except with Cold Fire reading a chapter leaves me feeling sick to my stomach. Stopping there doesn’t help.

I’ve discovered the hard way that I find it difficult to read a story about arson, especially when lives are lost.

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Boots (Netflix 2025)

Posted on by Henry

I’ve seen the first episode of Boots, and I have mixed feelings. 

I’m not sure how to engage with the show. It’s the sometimes funny, sometimes awful story of a young gay man named Cameron Cope who joins the Marines (in 1990, when homosexuality in the armed forces was still criminalized) without really knowing what he was getting himself into. Boots is based on the book The Pink Marine by Greg Cope White (no relation to the best of my knowledge), which is apparently a memoir of White’s own time in the Marines.

I’m unsure about Boots because I’m not sure what Boots is trying to say, or what conclusion it’s reaching towards. Does it have a negative message about being in boot camp as a young gay man in 1990? Does it have a positive message about that?

Is it both?

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The Harm Machine

Posted on by Henry

We are building a harm machine.

The harm machine is growing, and it is hungry. It needs people. It eats them.

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