Ned Harr wrote:Sometimes I’m really excited about my future plans to buy land and build a house in New Mexico. My wife and I run the numbers and look at where we’ll be financially in this many and that many years, and all the skills I’ll have by then, and it all seems too good to be true. To be clear, it’s the experience I want, with the material aspects as secondary.
But lately I also sometimes feel crushing disappointment, like it’s a pipe dream, an unrealistic superstimulus shown to me by YouTube algorithms, and the reality is different in every way. Like I won’t actually have the amount of money I think I will. Or the cost of some part of the equation—land, materials, travel expenses (because I’ll have to keep going out there to look at properties), whatever—will be way higher than I’m predicting. Or that what I’m learning about construction now in this part of the country will be irrelevant to construction in another part of the country. Or that I’ve left out some important piece of the equation that I just don’t have the experience to realize exists yet (for example, when I realized that some parcels of land also require you to get permission to go through other peoples land just to access it! Another example would be something to do with the permitting process, which I know next to nothing about). Or like by the time I get to a place in life where I could make it happen, I’ll be too worn out or have lost my ambitiousness or something.
This really gets me down, so I start pivoting the dream itself, making compromises in it before I even get to them. I suppose this is a good exercise, because it helps me maintain at least a kernel of non-attachment to my dreams: as with writing a story, falling in love with your ideas is kind of a recipe for failure. Presumably. But the awareness that I’m doing it is kinda saddening.
I’ve watched my twin brother attempt something kind of like what I want to do, and while he hasn’t exactly failed yet, he’s definitely been beset by some things that could either be described as setbacks or traps, possibly wrong turns. I feel like my plan is leaner and more cautious, with more contingency options baked into it, but still my confidence is shaken pretty badly these days.
Assuming “enough money for land & house” goes well, how am I going to have time to fly out to NM and hunt for land? Last time we moved, just driving around my own city with my realtor looking at houses took a ton of time! What if all the good stuff in my price range is taken? I want to be remote, in a place with tall trees and scenic elevation changes, yet not have to drive an hour to get to a grocery store, hardware store, hospital, or restaurant—is that even possible??
Okay, putting that aside, when am I going to have time to spend out on my land in a tent or camper getting to know its little corners and secret pockets at different times of year so I can site my house in an intelligent way? How am I going to get truckloads of materials out there, even if I manage to salvage many of them for cheap or free? When am I going to have time to assemble them into a house, if I’m still working in Ohio? Even if I can take whole summers off or something like that, living in a camper for months or years while I build a house seems like a kind of roughing it I could do now in my early 40s for a while if I’m motivated by a big prize at the end, but what about when I’m in my 50s? 60s?
I have a high tolerance for this kind of stress, but not infinitely high. I’m not sure where this goes…
thomas rubino wrote:For the first twenty years we lived here, I only had a hand-drawn map of the septic tank's location.
Of course, eventually, the tank backed up and needed pumping.
The Dig was on... OMG, what a nightmare.
Large holes to nowhere in our driveway. We finally had to uncover the line from the house and follow it until we located where the tank really was.
After two days of digging, we finally found the tank!
I was concerned about what kind of "tank" might be buried. Since the cabin was built in 1930, there was a significant chance that our tank would be a 1928 Ford with the drain pipe stuffed inside...
Thank goodness it was a real metal septic tank. The next issue would be whether the tank was rusted out.
The pump truck was called, and shit started moving; as it emptied, I was happy to see that our tank was still solid!
Now I knew for sure where our tank was located.
I foolishly thought it would be 20 years or more before I needed to pump it again... so... I buried it...
Think again, bucko... a few years later, I had trouble again.
Digging up the tank was not a big deal, except the 4' of snow on top...
This time, the tank did not need to be pumped; it had become paperbound at the entry point.
Some "plunging" with a stick had things moving again.
Having muddy, frozen dirt, I opted to use free sand to cover the tank top and put plywood over the rest.
The following spring, I fixed it for easy access.
A 55-gallon olive barrel with a removable screw-on lid was purchased.
I cut the bottom off at the appropriate height (gaining a new drain pan for the shop) and rounded the cut to match the curve on the septic tank.
Mud and snow were long gone, and I used the sand and new dirt to backfill.
Now, just at ground level, I can open the barrel, reach down with the fancy hook I made, and open the tank for inspection or cleaning!
Takes about 5 minutes!
It beats the hell out of the two days of digging the first time!
Josh McDonald wrote:I've written a few novels and self-published one. I've also done a lot of reading and reviewing of other people's self-published novels, so here are my thoughts from that experience.
1. Almost all of the self-published novels I've read were weak. Most had ideas that could be made into a great story but missed the mark on execution--usually due to weak characters. My best guess is that they didn't get good editing or were unwilling to do as much work as their editors suggested. I look at my rough draft as about the 40% mark on writing a good book, as I think some fall into the trap of thinking a rough draft means "almost done".
2. People often recommend learning to format for e-book yourself, but you can also have it done for a couple hundred dollars, so it's really a time vs. money question. I spent the money, but I think the right choice is individual.
I may be available to read an early draft and give feedback: I say "may" because I am careful about committing future time, but I'd also like to help in your mission (and hopefully, I'll simply enjoy reading it). Feel free to PM me when you're ready, or maybe I'll see it on this thread.