J.D. Mitchell

Wow, what a year. I don’t have to tell you it’s been a struggle because it’s almost certainly been a struggle for you too. I mean, I don’t want to make assumptions, but… <gestures to the world-at-large>.

Ahem. Moving on.

Looking back to the start of last year, I was aiming low. Complete the sequel to Springtide Harvest, maybe keep up the social media engagement, mind and body willing. Yeah, about that… Turns out my mind and body were not willing, and I spent most of 2025 trying to keep it together. Like I said, you can probably relate.

I didn’t spend all my time hermiting it up under a blanket. I managed to write 17,000 semi-autobiographical words à la Slaughterhouse-Five. The working title is, Perfect Strangers: One Canadian’s Quest for Purpose in a Meaningless World. The writing went like gangbusters for a bit. Fun, pithy, hilariously depressing (it is a Canadian story after all), but it also soaked up the last of my writerly juices. Once governments worldwide collectively said, “You think that’s ridiculous? Hold my beer,” satire, at best, became reporting. At worst it just gave them ideas.

Long story short (too late), I gave myself permission to give up for a while. I know, I know: What about the hustle? Meeting objectives? Not falling behind? Well, nature—or is it nurture?—had other plans and made that decision for me. It just took me a long time to accept it. Onward and upward, or at least laterally. Three percent incline, tops. I’m still chugging along but at a slower pace. Like I said a few years back (or was it a decade?), writing is a marathon not a one-hundred meter dash.

But on to brighter things. Last year wasn’t all bad, after all, and I don’t want to make this post unnecessarily depressing!

Hot take. WordPress is an utter nightmare. That’s right, I made the switch. Not because I wanted to, because WIX wanted my firstborn as collateral. This was a problem because, a) I don’t have a firstborn, 2) the alternative was too gruesome to contemplate, and d) screw subscription creep. Really, subscriptions can go to hell. So, here I am. After many, MANY hours of needless suffering. The site looks fine. It’s fine. And a hell of a lot cheaper. It’s time or money. Time I have, so time it is.

Speaking of time and money, I managed to sell 72 copies of the Citadel of Bureaucracy last year. It has now sold three times the average for a book. I’m truly happy to see so many people getting a kick out of my send up of office life and public service. I might indulge in a bit of targeted advertising to shake loose a few more buyers. I make $2-3 per book, which would scale ever so nicely. That said, I only make $2-3 per book. The eternal conundrum: spend money to make money, just so long as you do make money. I know it’s a good product—the numbers don’t lie—so it might be time to invest a little in its promotion.

Since writing was off the table in 2025, I, like many of you, played a hell of a lot of video games. Shocker! Shattered Pixel Dungeon ate up a lot of hours in particular. God, such a great game. It’s what Rogue wanted to be, and everyone should try it and donate to the cause. Kudos to the creators. This intense period of gaminess had a knock-on effect. Those who have followed me from the beginning know I dabble in Python, and it is to this I have returned. Game design is, after all, writing, albeit in a different form.

I decided to move from strength to strength by creating a sequel to the Citadel of Bureaucracy for the PC. Tentatively titled, “Uncivil Servant,” it takes place after the gutting of the Public Service (i.e., the near future). In it, you must fight the technology and decaying real estate arrayed against you. Your nemesis: CanadAI, a sentient artificial intelligence and the unholy lovechild of Public Services and Procurement, Treasury Board, and National Defense.

Here’s a game play screenshot of my progress:

I actually started out writing a First Edition AD&D dungeon delving simulator—sort of like a reverse Dungeon Keeper. Only, I started envisioning a pasty, 16-bit civil servant tearing their shirt open and wielding a keyboard like a stool in barroom brawl. The rest sort of wrote itself. I can’t wait to release a demo for everyone to play. I will finish that AD&D game, because I can’t stop thinking about it, but U.C. is louder at the moment and, frankly, simpler. If you know, you know.

Speaking of public service, I must relay the sad news that I’ve just lost my job. Like just just. Two weeks ago just. Who says government jobs are ironclad? Not government workers, that’s for sure! I can’t complain, though. Thanks to the unions, we do have a lot of benefits on layoff, so I’m not in danger for a while, which isn’t something a lot of folks can say these days. Silver linings, and a lesson to us all on the value of collective bargaining.

I don’t mean to be such a downer. It’s one reason I held off writing this update for so long. Still, as they say (too often) in government, “It is what it is.” True, but what it is is also what we accept. So, let’s all band together, rock the crab buckets until they tip over, regrow our pincers, and make “what it is” giving “them” a pinch they’ll not soon forget.

Yours, collectively, in Crustacea,