Maybe I’m Not Hopeless . . .

Okay, the last entry relates to one Mike Keller.  (No, not the same Mike as my ex.)  Anyway, Mike Keller is . . . I don’t even really know how to describe him.  I’ve written of him before, for anyone who wants to look at the backlogue of my entries, I know there’s an entry concerning him written sometime around the end of May in 2005.

Anyway, though, I’ll randomly go and check out his website from time to time, and a few nights ago, I went to check it out.  (He has a word search game on there that I like playing, to be honest.)  Well, he’s completely revamped the site and been writing about his ventures with getting board games of his published.  He was also saying that he was still in the process of revamping his site and asked anyone with game requests to E-mail him.  So, I did, requesting the word search game and making a suggestion for what he do for a game.

I’d given up the notion that he might write back, considering our last encounter, (described in that May of ’05 entry,) and that’s why I wrote that last entry.  After I sent the E-mail to him, I read through more of his entries, where he talked about the anticipation and hopefulness that inevitably comes with submitting a game to a designer publisher person, and the mental anguish that comes from not getting an answer in the time frame they estimated, and how panic and fear and still to some degree exhileration seem to be guiding your actions.  Every time the phone rings, you hope it’s them telling you what a genius you are and of course they want to publish this.  Or when you get the mail.  You want there to be a letter from them saying they accept it and want to publish your idea.

I know how he feels, because I feel the exact same way with my writing.

He did write back to me.  Short E-mail, but that was to be expected.  He never wrote long ones back to me.  But it’s a start.

Plus, something else monumental happened last night.  A while ago, I don’t even know how long, but it’s been at least three year, if not a bit more, either he found me or I found him, I honestly don’t remember anymore, but a diariest named AngelKnight and I started noting back and forth.  His name is Andy and we got to be really good friends.  And I believe it was supposed to be in the summer of 2005 that he come for a visit and see me in New Jersey.

Well, things happened on his end that I’m still not entirely clear on, but suffice it to say, he never came to visit and we lost contact.  That’s always bothered me, because I didn’t know why.  I didn’t know what had happened between us.  I didn’t know what was happening to him, and it made me worry.  Since then, I’d sporadically E-mailed different surveys or forwards to him, but never got any reply.  I began to wonder if he even had the same E-mail.  And every time I would call him, (which wasn’t often, I admit,) I’d get the same message: "Oh, he’s not home right now, can you call back?"

But again, a night or two ago, I figured, "What the heck?" and E-mailed him, the subject line asking, "Is this still a way to reach you?"

And he E-mailed back.

::Edit:: That entry is called "I’m A Bloody Fool . . ." and it was written on June 29th, 2005.  Then, "Feeding The Fire," the entry after the next one, relates as well.