What makes us “move on”? I’ve often pondered that.

You have your usual answers, things like a decrease in common interests, goals, and desires.

When I was in my twenties I hung out with a completely different crowd than I do now. It’s not that I didn’t like them, I loved those people. But I moved on. They had become interested in certain activities that I really wanted little to do with, and you had this gradual separation. But when I think about them, I feel nothing but fondness and warmth.

I hope the feeling is mutual.

There’s a line from a brilliant Pink Floyd song that makes me think of these old friends who I’ve fallen out of contact with. David Gilmour was never known for his lyrics, but he pulled it off on the song “Poles Apart”.

Back in 1994, I had an apartment with a friend in Mesa Arizona. Pink Floyd’s The Division Bell had come out, and the band even flew a psychedelic air blimp across the town. Talk about surreal. I remember us drinking Jack Daniels and listening to Gilmour’s oceanic guitar solo. We were 20, had our own place, and were kings of the world! And the Division Bell was our soundtrack for those few months.

But it doesn’t just end there. It goes back to college, to high school, to junior high, to elementary school. And Mr. Gilmour says it better than I ever could:

I thought of you, and the years and all the sadness fell away from me.

Pink Floyd – Poles Apart

I don’t think any of us could’ve predicted where we’d be now. But does it matter? After all, it was always the journey that mattered, not the destination.

We know that now, don’t we?

So to my former fellow classmates and trapper keeper fashionistas, to those from Indian Prairie in what used to be a freaking cornfield in Aurora, to you who hailed from Madison Junior high and beyond…this post is dedicated to you. And so is my story “Storm Fronts” in the upcoming Old, Weird South Anthology.

Hey you, did you ever realize what you’d become?

We are halfway.

He doesn’t look too happy in his elf hat.

Still waiting for Wrigley to outgrow his kitten phase. I don’t think it will happen.

Now that two of my novels are with my agent (one being shopped, the other being read) I’ve started a new project. It feels great to write a fresh novel again. Editing was the focus in 2011, and although I’m happy with the results, I’m relieved to be forging ahead.

The new novel takes place in the Chicago suburbs, and there’s a bit of mystery, adventure, and creepiness to the piece. I look forward to letting my characters respond naturally to the difficult situation I’ve tossed them into.

Yeah I’m still alive, I think.

I’ve been working non-stop on my WIP and just finished the second draft on Sunday. Whew! Quite an emotional process, but it should be. The rest of the revisions get easier and faster, but I think I’ll be adding a few 500-1000 word chapters of fresh writing in order to build emotional bridges between the meat of the story. I’m proud as hell of this book, and I can’t wait to get it into the hands of my kind betas (well not always kind, and that’s a good thing).

As far as the previous and complete novel, my new queries are out to a few agents, and I’m currently in contact with an agent on the west coast. We’ll see how it goes. This is a fickle market dependent upon an editor’s taste, and that’s as simple as it gets.

This site is under construction, but will soon feature news and information concerning the short stories and novels of Michael Hodges. Thanks for stopping by.