More Better

Hey everybody,

Ok, so it's Christmastime again, which is usually a big time of reflection for me involving what I accomplished this year balanced against all the things I didn't accomplish this year, and for the first time in a very long time I think I came out on the winning end of that measurement. Mom's been trying to get me to do one of these Christmas letters for years, and I've thought about it a couple times, but seeing as how I actually have things to talk about this year I figured I might as well jump in and try it out. You'll see I did the letter here instead of mailing it out, not because I'm lazy and trying to save money on postage, but it seemed to make more sense this way, as everyone is already included on this big convenient list. However, if anyone feels the urge definitely feel free to print this puppy out and hang it on your refridgerator along with the more traditional Christmas letters that came in actual envelopes.

To start with, I guess I should discuss where I started out this year. 2007 didn't start out as anything resembling a promising year for me. I was in a huge rut in just about every single aspect of my life, I seemed stuck forever in a job I hated, and I felt bitter and depressed every day. By February, which is when I reached just about my lowest point, I was pretty much circling the drain. The world had gotten the best of me and I'd just given up. In times like these it's really hard for me to stop feeling sorry for myself and pull myself out of the rut, so what inevitably happens is that someone, usually a female, is plopped into my life to introduce the sort of catastrophic change necessary to provoke me into pulling my head out of my ass. And that's what happened.

Sometime in March, at my last place of employment, we hired a girl named Jennifer, who was given to me to train. As I'd trained dozens of new people over the years, I didn't impart too much significance into this. She was just yet another new person I had to drag through the day and try to make something out of. However, she and I started to click very well, not just on the job but personally also, leading to the two of us starting to hang out together after work, and eventually dating. More importantly, though, she gave me the needed kick in the ass to get me motivated enough to leave that job and better my life. To say that she literally talked me out the door would not be an understatement.

Which is where Rugers comes in. I'll spare you all the crazy theological talk about destiny, the things I believe in, and so forth, except to say that if not for Jen I'd never have thought to apply at Ruger's in the first place, considering I didn't even know it was there and I'd never even heard of the town of Newport. Jen and I took a field trip to Rugers one afternoon after work, started the long application process, and consequently caused a huge scandal at my then current job. The scandal erupted into a feud, and suffice to say my last six weeks there were really interesting.

I took a pay cut, added 26 miles (each way) to my daily commute, and accepted a start time of 5 AM to leave that job for Rugers, but it was worth leaving there at any cost. Whenever you're in a situation where your stomach starts to get upset on a Sunday evening because you're dreading going into work on Monday morning, it's time for a change. I started at Rugers having no idea how to assemble a gun, but the difference was much like Dorothy Gale stepping out of her black and white Kansas farmhouse into the color world of Oz. This is how it was supposed to be. And even the team leaders and supervisors treated you with respect, something I was not used to at all.

The job itself took some getting used to. 5 AM is a really freaking early time to be anywhere. The ten hour days were another tough adjustment those first few weeks. Many times by Wednesday afternoon I wasn't sure what day it was anymore, and by Thursday I wasn't even sure of my own name. And that doesn't even include the frequent five hour Saturday shifts or the quarterly inventories during which you might be there until god knows when. Meanwhile, I'm learning to do things I'd never thought about learning before. I started on gas-block, and after drilling screws for ten hours I'd start to get a nice groove in the palm of my hand. I've since moved around to slide-fitting, bolt building, bolt lock, and finally bolt-fitting, which is what I've been doing the last few months. Bolt fit is essentially taking the gun, finding a bolt that'll fit in it, finding a firing pin that'll get the right readings in the bolt, and making the thing all work somehow. It's one of the tougher jobs on the line, so that's where I'm trying to make my mark.

These jobs can be somewhat rough on my hands, too. I've bothered and grossed out mom and Colleen both by showing them my various battle-scars, as I call them, which I sort of consider to be badges of honor. To date, and this is an estimation, I've gotten about 150 metal slivers (most of which just stick right out of your hand), hammered my thumb about 15 times, filed over one of my knuckles about a dozen times, pinched my hand between the slide and gas-block about six times (twice hard enough to break the skin), and stuck my thumb with the extractor tool about five times (every time hard enough to draw blood). But it's all part of the fun.

So to summarize that, I love it there. Taking that job meant I had to miss the Regan Open for the first time in it's existence, but from what I heard my team was able to find a great replacement for me. I should be up there for the next one, though.

In October I started looking around for an apartment closer to work, mainly because the prospect of driving all the way from Lebanon in a snowstorm wasn't appealing in the least. I lucked out on the first number I called and was shown a fantastic one bedroom apartment right here in Newport, which I jumped on, even though I wasn't sure exactly how I was going to come up with the first month's rent and security deposit with three week's notice. I just squeaked that by, and I'm now still in the process of arranging this place into what I believe it can be. I have some big, big plans for this apartment.

In case anyone doesn't have this info, here it is:

Shaun Regan
43 Park Street, Apt. 5
Newport, NH 03773

Ok, what else? The other major concern going on in my life right now is the book I'm writing. I've been working on it for some time, and the story told in it is one of great personal significance to me. It is "based on a true story" and "inspired by actual events" ... even though I've come to despise both those terms and the way they're marketed. Besides, I've played around with the structure and everything else so much that the story has really been fictionalized to within an inch of it's life while still containing the same basic thread of the story I started with. But I digress. Writing a novel is difficult and challenging, but it's also the most fun thing I've ever done, and I'm very proud of the work I've put into it so far.

Recently, I started releasing packages of chapters (which I refer to as "Season One") to a few of the people in my inner circle, including a very enthusiastic group in Florida, which is comprised of my best friend, her two daughters, and her older daughter's best friend. There are a couple other packets out there, a few more that I intend to send out, and of course if anyone reading this has any interest it wouldn't be hard for me to print up another one and put it in the mail. (But no pressure! You don't *have* to just to be polite)

My goal, of course, is eventual publication. And then more books to follow.

I guess that's about it. That's been my year -- new job, new apartment, new girlfriend (albeit temporarily), improved focus on my writing gig, and a much improved attitude and outlook on life. And as an added bonus, Colleen and Ian moved closer so we can hang out more. What can be better than that? 2007 was a great year for me. With the momentum I have, I expect next year to be even better.

Everyone have a great Christmas.

love,
Shaun