The Many Faces of Writers

After a long day of productive writing on a fun side story, I felt that intense urge to prematurely share the adventure... Once more hitting that frustrating wall belonging to every serious writer who self-publishes to market rather than throwing their first drafts on WattPad--I just can't. I can tell a friend or two, but the intimate thrill of the writing must still be refined into its intended finale before I take that leap.

The paradox begins to twist into my thoughts. Even though I blog in first person about myself or my methods, etc. I begin to feel as if my truest voice is growing in my fiction, my ideals, my most faithful words, my endless love for creation. I feel the frustration and confusion of reality start to untangle, the complex becoming understandable, my connection to reality stronger through my interpretation in fantasy. I don't feel this need to transform reality to cater to me, but rather, I become more peaceful in the acceptance that I can't control anything completely. I also have no temptation to disguise my real-life ideals, politics, or preferences to subliminally teach people or, worse, recruit them to think like me, or guilt my readers to agree with what I think might be good or bad.

Perhaps even more strongly since I've seen writers insist that writers have a responsibility to educate, when nothing can be further from the truth. Can it be a responsibility? Presented as non-fiction, certainly, but even then, it falls under personal responsibility for each person to remember you absolutely cannot believe everything you read, no matter how it is presented. Biases will always exist that will saw away the best intentions into so much dust.

For some in a state of mental simplicity, zen, whatever you want to call it, the easy answer is that all voices coming from you (barring crippling schizophrenia) are your true voice. However, I feel as if there is always a voice I associate myself with more and it's not always the one in our shared reality. Don't get me wrong--this isn't about retreating from reality. I can literally feel my brain working more clearly, cleverly, calmly in certain states. More often than not, it's while exploring internal processes than external stimuli.

Since I'm back at writing, I'll leave this at that. Thanks for reading!

Scrubbing Day

Like Pippi Longstocking, there comes a time when sometimes the most cheering feeling comes from domestic shenanigans. After a day of cleaning the fish tank, doing a boatload of laundry, taking fifty flights of stairs, healthy eating and a lot of walking, I... am just cool with being showered, lying in a clean bed, and letting my sore but satisfied body do nothing more the rest of the day.

My head is in my unnamed world, full of named cities and continents and struggling characters, but I look at my laptop across the room, laugh cynically and pull up my tablet to write a blog post instead.

Even though my NaNo draft has been sitting untouched since, I remember some of the little side scenes I haven't gotten to draft yet, playing at the frayed edges with secret laughter, sideways smiles, and furrowed brows as I feel the untouched structure strengthen without spoiling what it will be when I finally commit to typing its first draft into existence. I think of the Young Writer challenges, where I wrote scenes and notes that would never make the book (but might find a home in my blog someday), remembering how they decided more firmly what my characters would and wouldn't be.

I see the ending already written but still so distant, so lightly molded, as it will eventually be baked into its final form from the paths leading there that will decide its shape. I see my side stories more firmly resolving the character of the enigmatic asshole I wanted to create, not just through his own actions and circumstances, but the people around him as well. I see each of them as main characters and side characters, significant yet just as easily buried in the ever-stretching sands of time. They are the deserts that grow over time, the stubborn oases that keep such deserts from being unsurvivable wastelands, the cities lost and found and lost again. They are sentience and constance and vigilance and everything in between.

When their journey ends, I will still step into their stories and more besides, time and again, even as I move onto other projects. They may not stay so prominent in my memory, but pieces will resurface because faded is not forgotten. While some things are blurry as our minds build anew, some become the foundations of a greater curiosity the writer will explore over and over.

In my own future, there is hope in the long haul rather than any frustration for the present. I eschewed expectation, managed to create a place where I'm not discouraged from my goals.

Palate cleansed, I patiently coax my muse to return, to feel the natural flow, so I still write daily, regardless of whether it goes towards my goals. Sometimes I bleed on the pages, sometimes they keep my blood thrumming happily in my veins, words filling my lungs and releasing, coaxing my breath when the story leaves me breathless. I do not dare to dread the finite time, but grip it both firmly and gently, my unpredictable steed to guide. Whether it takes me all over the world and into old age, or it bucks and I break my neck, I know that this is life and I was never in control of anything but hope.

When I begin again, for hope at least speaks in whens not ifs, it is always time.

Finishing Move

No blog of mine would be complete without an occasional video game reference and this one is a perfect fit for the after-publishing dance.

Authors have many different ways of taking this on: launching into more marketing and promotions, working on the next book, taking a break and clearing the mind.

But to say it's the same even for the same person would be wrong. In the beginning of my journey, it was a scramble for everything. I almost never start from scratch, having started many drafts just to avoid any square-one paralysis. I can't say for sure it actually does that since I've never worked exclusively on any one piece so there's never a blank slate to start with. 

Juggling three transitions--writing, marketing and resting, while doable, make each of them watered down to their purpose. For me, there was little productive about the transitions. I wasn't peaking without writing binges, I wasn't focused on where and how I was marketing and whenever I tried to rest, my head was torn between the rigid footwork of marketing and the floaty imagination of writing. I'm sure I told myself I was a superwoman and handling it beautifully, but now I can see that, while I was handling it, each of them deserved more dedication to their purpose.

Writing right after publishing can keep you from forgetting too much of the material so it seems like a natural fit, especially with a series, yet that presents issues too. Some stories seem best served by a little rumination period, one where I relive the written moments and create some mental 'bonus content' that humanizes (assuming they're human) the characters. To fly ahead in the story isn't always fortuitous. I've found it makes for a rushed draft that often needs a LOT of additional scenes to create the right moods and transitions. I can't say exactly which stories will need it since I'm right and wrong about my own. They do get fixed over the editing and I'm not certain it's beneficial to presume you know your story that well, especially before it's been drafted. It's work and hindsight always creates a 'should've' mentality that is about 50% helpful regardless. 

Marketing after publishing... Well, tip pages seem to stress that this should begin about six months prior to publishing. It probably should. I've focused less on that and more on the tip that says "write more books." While marketing can be immensely helpful, I've known just as many people who dump gobs of time and money into it and wish they could get both back. Some books hit the sweet spot of the zeitgeist and it markets itself. I just want to do the work so, while I post about releases, I leave it at that and focus on the next project.

Or... I take a break. It's probably the most difficult because my brain does whatever it pleases and it aches to create even when my body throws a hard negative. Yet, even if that means restlessly jumping from crochet to bead sprites to video games, it's important to consume. Friendships, familyships, spaceships, whatever--no matter how obsessed you are with your work, sometimes you need that hunger, that unpredictable inspiration, to fan the flame. Some people fear that time away will smother the flame, create apprehension to return, but those fears are more often unfounded. Even if those fears persist, you should take it as a sign that something needs fixed in another aspect of life and welcome the block as a form of self-maintenance.

But writing IS your go-to! Not right then, it isn't. If your identity is too wrapped up in any one thing, you're making it way too easy for your life to collapse. A decent foundation needs many supports so why would mental stability need any less?

So there's no right or wrong. They all have benefits but this time around, I'm no more confident I'm making the best decision. I'm taking a break. Maybe a little too long, but the past week was a trial I couldn't ignore. I'd like to continue releasing my current series on my mom's birthday, but it may mean it won't be my most focused time. And I certainly should have it set up by the beginning of February like I did this time. There's just the possibility that I'll be really murky around that time and my work should not suffer for it.

My Favorite F-Word

Not that one; friends!

I got to go to a Coheed and Cambria concert last night. It's been over a decade since I've been to a concert and I've never heard their music before. However, my friend Joe is one of those people who has a really good (or at least aligned with my own) tastes in music so I let myself go to be surprised and really enjoyed 'discovering' them this way. 

Before that, another dear friend confided in me over a really stressful issue she didn't feel comfortable sharing with anyone else. Even though there's little in my power I can do, I did offer those things in my power (listening or any action she decided to take that needs a crew). It always feels good to be that trusted person and more so when I can get them out of a situation when they decide to take a big step.

Today, my friend Erika posted pictures of my paperback copies of my latest series, which was even more icing on the cake. It always feels amazing to have your friends brag on you, especially since I don't have those 'participation award' sort of friends that don't act like you shit gold with every step.

I used to be the sort that would commiserate with others over the only two friends they actually have, but that would be a self-effacing lie that discredits the wonderful people I'm grateful to have in my life. Even if I only see some of these people twice a year or haven't met them off of the internet at all, there are simply people in my life that I could consider best friends, loyal friends I share meaningful conversations with, that can't be ranked less than friends. There's simply none of the restrained politeness that you'd assign to acquaintances.

Every once in a while, I can ascribe general positivity to some of my limitations and I can't deny that my friendships rarely stay in the small talk category for long. Both I and them know pretty quickly whether we click or not and we dive right into the meat of each other's lives. There are always areas where we clash but rather than fan those flames, we gladly pass those places up and connect on more common ground. If I am down-to-earth or kind or intelligent, it's easily because I keep those closest who let me be that person without shame. If they seem I am flustered or start to stammer, they don't point it out or agitate it, knowing it will pass on its own. I'll laugh, slow down my speech or stop then catch up and all is good.

It's not that the world around me has to take the lead from me. I know it's just as much self-discipline that teaches me to accommodate others and some will not play nice. Walking away from hostility works too. However, for those most patient, I am also able to be a great friend to them. Even as a retail worker, I tended to reward kinder people with better recommendations, sale items, and personalized information, simply for letting me be helpful. You don't have to exhaust yourself with a false face to navigate the world, just be open enough to let people be themselves. Don't take it personally when a stranger treats you like garbage. It's never personal because they don't know you--it's harder for a lot of people to be honest with those they are closest to so they sometimes see strangers as the better choice to take that out on. In most cases, you find a place between firm and kind. Don't let them step on you but also don't let them make you defensive. Often, I see hostility melt into apology and exhaustion rather than continue. When they're too ruffled to stop, there's the walk away.

And yes, even with customers. In fact, I often go straight to a manager on duty, explain that I walked away and ask them to handle it then I'd excuse myself to the bathroom to calm down. At that point, I'm usually so close to a panic attack that I can hear my heart hammering in my ears but I never ask to the restroom. If I ever have the sort of manager that tried to discipline me for that, it's a job I will walk away from. However, even my worse bosses have not gone to that length. It's no longer than a usual bathroom break and I come back a blank slate, ready to go.

You can't be afraid that the world will punish you for taking the initiative. Knowing how to be a productive worker is nothing you need permission for so don't ask for it. Handle it and show you know what you're doing. There's no benefit to bottling as if they own the air your breathe and over medicating to suppress valid human reactions. People who latch onto how badly you need the job will use that against you sometimes. Give them your best, the best YOU know how, and you might be surprised by how your situation could improve.

There will always be parts of your life you shouldn't take to work, things you'll contain in the moment.

But that's what friends are for, right? 

Fantasy Vs. Reality

I spent a brief stint cruising around writing and fan groups, trying to gather popular and unpopular beliefs in everything from writing to content to subject matter. While there is little of it that can actually be substantially helpful in a themed post, I was thinking about one subject in particular that solidified why I like to focus on made-up places.

Even I had the faux confidence of a world traveler, researched a place top to bottom and/or wrote about any place I've actually lived, people seem to trip over the fact that any perspective is still an experience limited to that person. Rather than taking it as such, I've seen people over-dissect writing to confuse the lines between fact and opinion. You might remember a trip to a deli on the corner of 7th and Elm in a town you lived in five years ago, but write a present day piece, not knowing that deli either closed or relocated somewhere in between. Someone will always fixate on it to the point where you try to steer clear with a polite thanks but it's not the feedback you're looking for.

These examples aren't personal, but the and again, a writer looking for specific feedback on style almost always needs to type up a paper on what they're actually looking for. A fictional story, even set in a real place, however badly remembered, tends to attract the geographically obsessed. Immensely helpful if that's what you're looking for, but when the comment thread blows up in a million wrong directions, sometimes I just can't blame a writer for deleting the thread and starting anew with tighter requirements.

Really, it's okay to just loosely base most fiction on real places. The Simpsons never specified which Springfield it was supposedly based off of, so it's no wonder fantasy so often uses crazy naming convention to avoid real-world distractions, so to speak. Even so, I've still seen enough fantasy forums where people conspire over what parts of Europe a map resembles or what Russian family certain characters mimic. While some of an author's parallels are deliberate in which models they use, sometimes they can't say for certain where they drew the logic. It's just as likely that they watched another fictional movie based off of a real history. Histories, especially the most intriguing events, seem to inspire many an artist to exaggerate over an exaggeration many times over.

While I certainly use deliberate models, they tend to be isolated to a place or a person while any extending parallels happen to be a natural coincidence of the logic. Psychology and human potential is not limitless and there are simply actions that are more likely than others. Even the unlikely follows a natural logic.

There's no real way to wholly avoid speculation (and as a writer, it is certainly flattering to inspire a talking point at all) but I like the freedom of not being restrained to recorded fact. I do have some stories that touch down on Earth from time to time to time, but I try to steer away from current settings or politics because I find those shouldn't be confused as central to the stories I'm writing. Once people can nail down a place or person, the race to find the flaws begins.

Fantasy is never immune, especially when you pull in a mainstream audience. Though I can certainly understand why popular writers often avoid these forums or even come into Q&As with a specific list of questions they aren't going to answer. By all means, speculate away but in all honesty, most prolific writers have moved on to another story, another world, and even when they're still working on a spanning series, there's very little chance they're going to backtrack over a perceived error, no matter how big. There are few things that survive a long editing process that weren't skipped over time and again for a reason. 

I don't do fantasy just to avoid researching real world places. Rather, I don't use real world places so I can focus more on the themes. There plenty of times where I have to leave scenes thin until they are better researched or thought out. That isn't truly minimized even in total fiction. However, I find it more fascinating to focus on the potential of a place rather than a prefab one.

That's not to say I'm not up to the challenge of that someday. My Dreampunk Chronicles dance between this world and another. As a fairly new published author, I'm not niched into anything just yet. However, I still like this playground and, considering the amount of work that goes into each book, I could very well be in fantasy land for at least another five years. I'm not aching to use our world as a primary setting and even then, I'd have more fun with historical time periods rather than anything too current.

There is no serious book effort done without challenge. I'd never assume fantasy or reality or their hybrids are somehow on different difficulty levels. It's just different and the main difference, the reduction of established parallels, is my main temptation.

Opposite Day

Despite the fact that I'm dealing with a persistent depression, I'm going to be a bit dishonest here and labor for a positive mindset. It's to the point where I'm becoming restless and pissed-off because the physical and mental symptoms are really crippling what I want to be doing.

Today is an average day. Zero forms of water are falling from the neither grey nor blue sky. It's a bit on the cold side, but in the absurd likelihood that someone finds value in asking me if I prefer hot or cold, I go with cold. In truth, mild. Always mild. Hot and cold are both uncomfortable and inconvenient. I like rain but mostly the warm summer variety that feels amazing when I'm sweating during a 7 mile walk. Even that can be a bummer all the time since I don't have waterproof headphones and I'm not willing to risk my hearing or brain function to enjoy my usual walking music.

I'm pretty damn detail-oriented but willfully oblivious if my brain doesn't give it priority. (Oh, fuck transitions...) Even though I'm a social enigma, I'm an insightful observer. Even though I'm the most forgetful and easily confused person I know, I've got a quick problem-solving response and I can spot sarcasm, condescension, patronizing, and overall douchebaggery a mile away. I also intentionally appear oblivious and if you're thick, you think I don't get it, and my dry laugh is a warning that if you persist in being impolite, I'll escalate to being a dry-humored bitch rather quickly. I'm also internal to the point that I'll over focus on my social blunders, sometimes mumbling a conversation in replay while I mentally amend it. I'm not trying to be cute when I say I'm a ninja. I blend until I want to be seen but I'm likely to leave a conversation and join another without warning. You won't miss me when I slip away, but I won't annoy you when I join in. 

I'm talented! (More Tourette's, less transitions!) I speak fluent crochet and I can improvise with a pretty high success rate. When I do use patterns, I rarely follow them exactly. I love drawing characters, but backgrounds... Not so much. I've used some pretty absurd props for models to lean against because I'm lazy about those too sometimes. I love fashion design, but I have absolutely no desire to obsess on my own wardrobe. I'm pajama chic and, seriously, fuck all the haters who make assumptions based on that choice. I purposely wear light and stretchy materials because fibro can make clothing feel like a vice on my skin. Because I understand there are needs in clothing beyond the aesthetic, I also appreciate the many other purposes. Writing was always my guilty pleasure, but I'm still not sure it could be my number one vocation. It's tough for anyone, and more so when you're a woman that doesn't adhere to romance or crime thrillers. I love both of those, but there's also that defiant need to be extra, to write what the stories seem to demand. I'm not a purist writer which makes finding a niche unlikely.

Comics though. I damn bad habits for making that so challenging now. I miss those days where I could draw for 18 hours straight, but these days, even with ergonomics, I have to arm wrestle carpal tunnel and crippling finger cramps. I will have to build stamina to entertain being a full-time comic artist, but damn, I have some good fun ideas that dance with romance in some, dark comedy in others. I salivate thinking of getting a Cintiq Pro 24; I once entertained the Mobile Studio Pro but it's not only much more expensive, it also gets hot with prolonged use and I want something I can pull into my lap, keeping my posture and positioning in a place that won't leave me curled up in agony when I'm done. 

In case I've bored you to tears or lost you altogether, this isn't all about me. I hate to be the stereotypical mourning artist, but what I just did there, sometimes you need to do that. You need to physically type or longhand onto paper what you know about yourself. Be insightful as if you're observing a stranger. You don't have to be overly flattering or resist pointing out practical flaws. What you do need to do is address what is fucking you up, what you're forgetting, all with the mental goal of doing what you'd rather be doing. Admitting my flaws where anyone can read them? Not so fun. However, it's important to note that no matter how weak or vulnerable you think people might perceive you, there's strength in doing what you gotta do to wash your hands of it.

Don't wallow in shit. Don't practice anything half heartedly. I went into this angry and restless and walked away determined to eke out what I'd rather be doing.

Sooooo... What was it I'd rather be doing again?

New to Me

While it's almost impossible to make an idea wholly original, most of us actually aren't looking for that anyway. In the many books I've read, the many words I've filtered through me, there are a lot fewer moments of profound change in my thinking or mood by comparison. I pore through entertainment of all types rarely expecting a revelation anymore--sometimes I'm just banking on a nostalgic high.

I didn't get into Game of Thrones for being original. For all of its taboo topics, it wasn't even shocking. If anything, it took all the parts that people were already writing about throughout human history and stopped letting powerful prudes cut them out. It's not some morally depraved trickery on the part of modern times but at some point, we stopped seeing sense in protecting grown-ass adults from controversial topics. They are still rated and able to be kept from children with the ease of technology but they aren't stricken from consumption by people who have every right to make that decision for themselves. 

GoT, however, was still original in a sense that today's trends are not. It's not a remake of a story already done, sometimes in the exact same media as before, ten or more years later. The characters and names and specific plots are not suspiciously or even blatantly mimicking something else.

My own stories? After not looking at them for a few years, those are new to me too. I rarely ever replay a game, reread a book, or rewatch a movie... Or rather, I don't ever plan to. The tendency I have is to think of something I once consumed and, if I can't think of it right away, it only builds this insane need to re-experience it when I can remember.

This can go badly. While I haven't yet cringed at my published stories, I've certainly murdered the magic of nostalgia by attempting to revive it. Instead of always insisting I relive it, sometimes I do look for something similar.

With a caveat. I will almost always ignore any attempt by authors, reviewers, etc. to compare it to a popular title. It's one thing to list inspirations in a bio but I am naturally suspicious of anyone who uses the popularity of something else to sell a story. In my experience, the ways it is 'like' something are not at all the ways I have hoped it was. The problem with telling me your work is like Stephen King is that the man is prolific and his own work isn't like the rest of his work. J.K. Rowling? If you mean it's set in a magic school, I've already read (and not finished) about 50 stinkers with that theme. I'm interested in knowing if it's a light or heavy read and, as for the nostalgia? 

Marketing doesn't nail that. It's kind of a weird set of feelings. It could be some element of a book cover, a font, a description or it could be the first book we dig out of a church sale crate. I'm not looking for a shiny bestseller, but a secret treasure. Not new, but new to me. 

And here's the thing: the next Tolkien will always be a man. We're a long way from a world that stops passing a gendered torch. That's not to say it wouldn't be flattering to be called the next Ursula Le Guin or Anne McCaffrey but those aren't household names. J.K. Rowling? (Again, she's a question; sorry, Joanne.) Go into purist fantasy circles and while, she's a token name to say 'see, a woman's successful in fantasy', she's also more deeply excluded on a list of 'serious' fantasy contenders. 

So I'm not going to navigate any genre by its bestsellers. While Netflix and Hulu are making bolder, sexier, more diverse choices (not always successfully, but gotta love them for going for it), there are many creatives struggling for a fair chance. While I'm not a fan of identity politics putting the squeeze on entertainment, it's just as true that perspectives of all kinds (and not at the expense of the white male) need to be observed.

However, some attempts are laughable. The insurgence of corny 80s style family comedies featuring people of color are terrible. They weren't good when it was white people and it's not less disturbing that these are all-black, all-Asian or all-Latin casts. It's too on-the-nose segregated in a way that backpedals on being 'woke' (and fuck that stupid term). There was a show on Hulu, I think it was called Here and Now, with a hippie white couple that adopted kids from all races and despite my initial wariness that it was going to be another on-the-nose heavy-handed toddler-lecturing hot mess, I was surprised to find a lot of cultural honesty, human fallibility and even a suspenseful fantasy element. Look it up and watch it. I'm disappointed it didn't get at least one more season.

Not every trip into diversity will be amazing. It's going to have a lot of clumsiness to start. It's not proof it's all terrible. However, diversity for the sake of diversity shouldn't be the rule either. Not all same race or same gender casts will be glaringly awkward. Some do work without a forced element of biased education or flatness. I don't care for Lena Dunham but I did enjoy what I've seen of Girls. It's not even a requirement to like the actors or anything else they've done. When I'm looking to bond with an idea, I'm not the sort to let hangups lead me. Perhaps this is why marketing is so lost on me. Not only does it not influence me, I can't commit to anything that assumes other people are that easy.

I just want people to know I'm an option. You may or may not like my work. It may remind you of something you've read. Whatever the case is, it will be new to you and original in its own way.

Bonus points if it resonates with you.

More Writing Therapy

The real wobble of a day like this one is that I can't really anticipate how it will land on my shoulders. UnNamed's release last year on this day was therapeutic all by itself. I'd jumped from NaNo into a frenzied but focused edit and the date coinciding with my mom's death/birthday felt right.

So I thought it would do much the same. However, UnSung was three times the work and full of its own unique problems and solutions, January was a mountain of unpredictability while I healed and made changes and February was not a month I went into on full steam. Reaching today, while the book release is still a buffer and exciting on its own, is also a day where I'm not cushioned by any shock-laden steps of grief. I felt today, two years since I lost my mom, too keenly.

Days don't often have that power. I don't build up a frenzy for holidays, although I do anticipate the days when I get to give someone a gift. I certainly observe those death anniversaries with an acknowledgement but the day of mourning has never been my deal. Yet, at two years, I can't deny the stages of grief rub raw. The anger, the sadness, a reluctance to let any of it burst into a mess, but knowing that bottling is a big no-no.

For better or worse, this woman fuels my writing. I look for resolutions in our one-way relationship by talking to her through my stories. She isn't any one of my characters but I feel her traits coming through. There's a female cardinal outside the kitchen window that teases my cats so spiritually, it's definitely not unlike her.

I'm probably romanticizing this day more than I typically might. But I want the lump in my throat to go away so I can celebrate again. Nothing fills where people are gone, but nothing feels better than honoring them through bettering the self. So if I must concede this day to pain, then let it flow through and give me more days of triumph ahead.

How's that for a mantra?

UnSung is Here!

This book, like all books I finish, had a very special goal. I wanted it to be a true epic entry. I'd gotten caught up in the word count for traditional publishing years ago and I always feel like it might have affected, for better or worse, how I approached writing. Instead, I removed those mental restrictions and just set out to bring in a word count that the book needed--I could get carried away, but it would still need a limit if I were to put it in paperback. There's only so much a spine can hold (or that a reader might want to hold). Luckily, with a decent font size, it still came under the 825 page limit by about 100 pages so it's definitely not stretching the next book too thin either.

Ahem, first things first. The universal book link to find the retailers is HERE but feel free to just pop into your favorite store and type in my name (Krista Gossett-- I have no clue how people are arriving here, so I'll not take chances).

UnSung is a part of the UnQuadrilogy, a series that explores the mistakes of the four Gods broadly through the messes that the humans and other creatures have to clean up. The layers come in bite-sized subplots, driven by a cast of characters of all different fantasy races and backgrounds. At least one main character tends to have a disability that also makes them more open to abilities that the 'able' do not. There are typically several plot threads that are character-driven and these tend to establish the 'chapters'. The only format that is consistent is that each book has three parts and an epilogue. The Prologue in UnSung is actually used to shift the view point from Talia's view in the Epilogue of UnNamed to some of Aiden's history and his view of events. This means that, at this point, it's not necessary to have read UnNamed (although you may appreciate knowing some of the characters reappear in UnSung and there are some Easter eggs tied into the story). UnSung does mention some of those events in passing, enough that they make sense on their own. I can't guarantee I'll keep this up for later books, since it gets more difficult (and tedious) in an epic to keep mentioning past events. For UnSung, it was not cheesy or tedious or I might have scrapped it.

In truth, it's not difficult to make at least 90% of each book completely standalone. For one, each one deals with new main characters. This is because their roles end up taking on a more significant one later. I also attempted to make it difficult to discern which of the characters is actually a 'main' character. Someone who plays a significant story-telling role may not be around for the long haul. The way the plots move serve to: 1) develop a character, 2) create an understanding of a subplot, or 3) support the main plot. I don't set out to kill or protect the characters, only to make sure each piece plays a clear role.

For this reason, it feels odd to assign each book a description. I can tell you the leading story-tellers (at least, to a point), the main plot, even some of the more significant subplots. However, knowing the books as I do, I can't really place significance on anything for you. It's a slow-burner fantasy that changes pace. It plays with politics, adventure, deceit, psychology, light and dark humor. I've always been drawn to fantasies with layers--not ones where the romance is the only driving force or constant or death and nihilism is the goal. I like it to be a multi-faceted playground that leads to a definite conclusion, yet still lets the reader keep it open to their imagination.

So-- each book concludes something. Each part concludes something. Each plot finds a conclusion. It's my hope that readers can also connect to at least one character, if not more. My expectations as a writer certainly considered what might appeal to a fan, but ultimately, my focus was on telling a complete story, yet one that I could expand on again and again.

UnNamed is already in the process of receiving more short stories. My nameless mercenary keeps me curious, keeps me wondering how his early life shaped the man he would become. The tricky thing is though that the short story spin-offs are more difficult to classify. Some of my short story spin-offs have verged into erotica, some adventure, and some seem more like investigative mysteries. I wonder if this is a sign of lacking discipline, or... Rather, I am willing to write what the story needs to be rather than restricting it to rigid requirements.

I know I'm roundabout getting to this, but UnSung starts with two scared young people, Aiden and Talia, who flee from the scene of a horrific murder, neither sure if anyone will believe they aren't responsible or that they can withstand the consequences regardless. They journey to the continent of Melikai, each trying to establish their own lives, each bothered by the whispers of a vast trade city turning ghost town. When they realize there is no such thing as a normal life for them, it leads them to extraordinary circumstances and deeper mysteries.

If I can manage to hook you for the long game, it will all become clear. As a fan of Sherlock Holmes and authors like Dean Koontz and James Patterson, I've always been a fan of dropping clues that feed you bread crumbs along the way. My characters, no matter their vocation, all play a bit of an investigative or driving role. I've said before, I don't set out to write paragraphs of self-congratulatory prose--enough to romance you to the elements, but not so much that you lose track of where you're supposed to be. If you WANT to wander in thought, I let that be your prerogative, not the hostage situation I put you in.

Between the drawing and the winter hobbyist stint, I haven't yet gone back to UnHeard. It got a huge draft boost during NaNoWriMo and I'm invading short story territory as well. UnHeard, like my other books, sometimes gets ambitious boosts (I've hit 10K in a single day more than once), sometimes a few modest 2-5K stints, sometimes dry spells because... I do more than write. I've had a few people urge me to pick an area. 

Easier said than done. I love drawing, but that's a challenge on my physical health that writing isn't, namely because I have bad habits in posture and ergonomics that I can't seem to correct without expensive equipment. Comics would be a lot more lucrative to do for me, but I need to take different risks and the planning is trickier. I'll certainly try it, but...

I do resolve to at least finish up the UnQuadrilogy first. So writing will be full-time at least for the next couple years. It won't be going away, at least as long as there are ideas I like better in that medium. However, if comics take off and I can handle the physical demands, it will become the priority.

That's a 'we'll see' situation. Being a modern artist is largely about flexibility, rather than just humping the same tree. We just don't live in a time where we can staunchly master one area, room and board a part of our apprenticeship. Certainly some can, but they are not only extremely lucky, but exceedingly rare. Most of even the most successful artists I know are rarely able to just master one area. Rather, they have to get pretty damn good at a lot of things and hope they actually like the ones that come into demand.

I loved crochet (and still do) but as a business, it sucked all the fun out of it, made it into something I didn't like. I find that writing and art don't poison in their reception, good or bad. It's easier for me to turn people down or accept/ignore criticism. With crafting, I just don't seem to have the same patience. Nevertheless, I treat it with integrity, refusing to sell crafts for peanuts. If I love you, I'll gift my work, but otherwise, don't even bother asking me to make something if you're not up to paying crafter prices. I don't fuck with negotiation or tolerate being devalued in any area. I won't demean the ones who brave the market by undercutting them. You want days of someone's life for a handcrafted piece, pay for it.

Uh-oh, someone is avoiding creativity today... (me...). I started some lifestyle changes today and the morning hours passed by fast. I might draw a bit, but really, I'm still adjusting to things that might require a bit of forgiveness for the break in ambition.

Strength and Beauty: The Nature and Aesthetic of Women

Sometimes, we confuse the inner and outer beauty arguments, deciding what things should be without considering the person we're projecting them onto. 

Drawing isn't just about an aesthetic for me, although that's certainly part of it. It's not that I hate my face or my body, but there's never been a draw in simply duplicating what I see (and many an art teacher can testify to that when I took liberties in life drawing classes). When I want to draw a woman, I don't want to know exactly how it will turn out. Drawing from my head isn't so much about depicting the ideal woman as it is capturing a piece of what connects me to her.

Inevitably, the women I draw are beautiful. They're not always thin, but what I capture in their forms still reaches for grace, physical strength, emotional clarity. Sometimes, I'll draw a simple bust form...

Sometimes, I really want to play with the full anatomy.

There are always elements exaggerated, even realistically impossible, yet that's probably why I am able to reach into difficult dilemmas in my own life that I struggle to make sense of. When I pull these forms from my own experiences and observations, I am closer to my own nature.

Beauty is a concept women struggle with. We want to be beautiful but we don't. We are anxious if we'll be noticed, anxious about how we'll be noticed. We don't want to be forced to accept a compliment, told not to be a bitch when we don't want to acknowledge it the way the giver expects us to. We wan to feel safe, strong, noticed, but that isn't always about outer beauty. We want to be brave, intelligent, kind, curious, independent, but sometimes all the compliments (or insults) focus on how we look.

I know; it's a frustrating thing and we accept that is the nature of it. We know we can't have it all and sometimes we even objectify men or injure their self esteem when it comes to looks or superficial ideals of what we want them to be. 

What also should be understood is that what people fantasize about isn't necessarily what they want from reality. A bit of a morbid example, but on an episode of Law and Order SVU, a woman's identity was used by a vengeful ex on a rape fantasy site where he arranged for her to be sexually assaulted, her struggles and protests to be ignored as part of the act. While the theme is extreme, the episode touched on issues like consent and measuring virtual strangers by their online presence. Hell, the entire Catfish show can hammer that one home too.

With communities of disgruntled MRAs, MGTOWs, incels, feminazis and gender purists throwing out extreme ideas of what is expected of men and women, the prevailing danger comes most strongly from the very one-sided views of people that likely need therapy to cope with trauma rather than fueling each other's sicknesses. In the same vein, they try to police how the world should work in a way that protects them but harms others. 

Although my thoughts sometimes take a dark and gritty turn, I am optimistic. As I've said before, it's important to encourage individualism, to strive for the balance of humility and ego that lets us achieve self fulfillment without crushing others.

My struggle as a woman will still be unique to my experience. Even though I sometimes look for comfort in like minds, I know that to be too comfortable is dangerous as well. To agree with someone on one level does not mean we are bound to aspects of them we don't agree to, simply out of loyalty.

As they say, a true friend will always call you out on your bullshit. 

Mind if I wheel off these tracks and go back to the topic of art?

While drawing these pictures today, I had a bit of a mental glitch. I'd gotten used to digital painting a bit too much and the first time my pencil didn't cooperate, my left hand started pressing the page for the Undo hotkey on my tablet. Sigh. Blend or erase... Nothing quite beats the feel of paper and pencil but the transition isn't always so seamless and they both have their own challenges. I'd like to do some pen sketches if the mood strikes this weekend. As much as I love drawing women, I really need to work on men. As you can see, I have a soft style that often makes all of my males a bit effeminate. I'd like to work on some hyper masculine subjects. Not to say effeminate men aren't awesome, but I would like to extend my range.

Building a Mystery

While deciding to jot down an idea that's really insistent on becoming 'a thing' someday, I became more aware of a tendency I've developed in my focus during the idea stages.

I flesh out the beginning. I detail the build of the character, the weather, the time of day, their clipped breaths, their urgency, what they're doing with their clothes. I build the environment since beginnings can be a really tough place while arranging them in the many editing phases. It's a place that starts off mentally like the holographic cubes and grids in a sci-fi simulation, where the computer has yet to build the scene that immerses the occupant into the virtual reality. Because I'm not yet sure of what it will become, I set about painting the first few frames with details meant to initiate me, that I am the newcomer, that this place and person existed long before and I am the one who has to be initiated into the reality, not them.

The middle of the idea usually falls along these lines 'supporting subplots to explain these psychological results of this character that causes them to do these actions.' The bold parts are variant, but let's fill in the blanks mad-lib style for the sake of an example: Supporting subplots to explain the growing obsession of a schoolteacher that causes them to repeatedly fail their students.

That's right; I don't humor the meat of the story at all.

Cutting to the end (because it's otherwise not significant to this post but still useful), I go in-between. I write a specific resolution or two. In the case of the example, perhaps I decide that 1) the school teacher resents their job but doesn't know what else they want to do with their life or 2) that they want to challenge their students to defend their work by putting their feet to the fire. It's not a coincidence that I choose two very opposing extremes that gives the chosen conclusion permission to fall somewhere in the middle. While it's important to have an overall point, this is one area where you don't exactly have to be married to, especially as the story evolves. You just need a pretty good idea to anchor the subplots to an end.

Now back to why I believe this is most effective.

Typically, when I draft I like to nail down the beginning and at least the first supporting subplot that it merges into. I'm not from the camp that believes the beginning has to be instantly spectacular, just get on the damn road. You do want to initiate the reader into your voice, your style, your storytelling, but there's no magic formula for every reader, so this is where you have to make a personal call as to what your story needs to work. As I said before, your beginning is likely to change completely, so if beginnings aren't your strong suit, this is a place to play until you submerge into the story more confidently. This is your kiddie pool before you are ready for the high dive.

The middle parts always seem to either come as you get there or you might find you want to stop the free-writing to begin a planning phase. This can often benefit from a sort of mad-lib of the initial mad-lib, only it's more rooted in the logic of your loose mission statement. Where would a teacher be that makes sense? Where could they be that doesn't make much sense until your plot development sheds light on it? Does your teacher meet a wise old librarian that enlightens them on teaching methods or are they drinking in a strip club when an aging hooker startles them with some sound life advice?

Set some markers where the seeds of your story will grow. Go with the classic Who, What, Where, When, Why, How and fill them in with possibilities. At first, it might seem shallow and silly, but in my experience, once you get past the shallow end of it, you'll start to home in on certain words and it will paint pictures that start making genuine connections with your intent.

Regardless of how solid your intent is, at that. A story evolves in the motion of ideas and inspiration. You can't always be actively looking for it. Sometimes it comes in the free-writing, sometimes it comes in the deliberate act of brain-storming. Many writers try to guide you on how to utilize these things most effectively, but I believe this is down to how well you trust your intuition. You can be flighty and unanchored in the free-write because you're going to edit later, right?

Oh please, tell me you don't think that first draft is going to be instant magic. Even if you're right, you're wrong. Everyone can do MUCH better than the first draft.

From personal experience, I can say that in building an effective mystery, there's some magic in going in blind, but don't expect an entire novel to operate on that. You may need many different methods to arrive at the richest transitions in your adventure. I know many a writer who, even if I'm instantly captivated by their work, I am also able to be surprised and more enchanted by their certainty that, on further edits, they can top it. More often than not, the ones most confident that it's not perfect are the storytellers that make the best magic once they decide they've satisfied the story (even though they'll still insist it's not perfect, at some point, they are wise to set it free).

The key to a good mystery in storytelling, no matter the genre, is to leave a little mystery for yourself. You can work out the kinks in logic and presentation later, but don't be so obsessed with control over the story before it's even been written. I've seen more than my share of carefully planned stories that bog the writer down before it ever becomes a coherent story. This sort of planning is more effective for a project manager or story planner, but this is because you're passing it off to someone who will look at it fresh. Don't kill the mystery for yourself by keeping the planning too tight. Leave some for the drafting.

A solid beginning and ending are great motivators for me, although on occasion, I like to leave the ending loose as well, as a sort of finish line, the icing on the cake, but that's the exception rather than the rule. I've found I like to have a good base for where things start and where things end up, but leave the playground open. Yes, the end and the beginning may change drastically while the middle becomes richer, but as I continue my journey as a writer, I'm less married to anything I write that just doesn't ultimately benefit the story. Cutting and rearranging and starting from scratch will happen. What I need to love is the result, so what is sacrificed to get there is what I endeavor to accept more gracefully.

Creative Control

Early on, when I decided to make the journey towards publishing, I asked myself a question that I still ask every so often: how much creative control do I want?

As a fan of books, movies, comic books, I'd once assumed that the creators themselves had the last word... At least until, I, as a charmed fan, drew pictures of what they looked like to me, wrote new situations for them to be in, changed what was canon for my own entertainment.

I guess it's for that reason that, when I started writing novels, I didn't feel like I wanted to obsess on every aspect that I did as a fan. Of course, I wanted to be thorough and get a good idea of each character for myself, but I found myself hesitant to draw my characters, to insist they look a certain way outside of the words. Possibly because I do picture them, as a fan would, in many different ways, experimenting with their look and unwilling to force the canon. I never wanted to be so possessive of my worlds that others felt restricted to that.

Of course, I did start my first two books by illustrating, but I found I didn't want my novels to be a replacement for drawing comics. I knew that the novels would take years to finish (since I almost always end up turning them into series), but I needed to create a hunger for making comics that I wouldn't build up by nibbling at it along the way.

The past couple days of just doodling in a sketchbook also reminded me I can't just neglect drawing. My damn hand was cramping, not used to the muscles being used like that. That will be a source of frustration if I try to start comics at full speed ahead. So, like most of my hobbies involving muscle memory, my sketchbook will need to get a workout here and there.

Working on this one today:

This is me playing with UnHeard's Princess Endramena, her guardian Maxim still has yet to join her on the page. Again, I'm not married to readers having to see my characters in any certain way, but sometimes I want to see how I can translate the mental visuals onto a page for myself. Plus, I enjoyed the little details I put into her jewelry. I'm debating on whether I'll greyscale color this or not. I still have to add texture to the lines. I guess it'll be down to the mood of the moment. I'll scan it before I do any coloring. That way, my friends that like to color can play with that.

Either way, I enjoy the change of pace I've been at this week. I'll be excited when UnSung drops on February 21st too. It's actually much more difficult setting a preorder than just publishing something when it's ready. For all of my patience with so many things, waiting to share something is never easy.

Smart Women Need (Dumb) Love Too

Why not talk romantic and sexual love today rather than wax on the semantics of different kinds of love?

I can't say for certain why women so often want to write about love and romance. Historically, it's what we've been superficially told we care most about but never for the actual reasons. more often than not, it's because what we want out of it is still a kind of social taboo. We're talking about it more now, but our bodies and needs are still dismissed as crass. It's still weirdly acceptable for sex to be one-sided and shallow, but really icks people out if it's emotional and intense. We're allowed to get raunchy in all-girl spaces or with our partner, but we're still shamed if we dare to step outside of those places.

Sex and love are topics we should be able to discuss in classrooms, break rooms, not giggling awkwardly behind hand-covered mouths. Why is it treated so solemnly or so primitively? Is the mystery and intrigue in romance, courting and sex ever truly dulled when we know how to talk dirty, what hole does what, and why consent is pretty straightforward when the chemistry is actually there? 

Why are so many women championing the inclusion of sex in literature without it being reduced to rags? Certainly because men have been allowed to write it any way they please and not have it thrown into the romance pile. Because men can write sex clean, dirty, shallow, deep and end up being called classic, profound, insightful.

Why do women object to being thrown in the romance pile? Because our suspense, nerd fantasy, genre specific work is not light and fluffy. As a smart women who likes light and fluffy, I know that while it's a genre that does inspire me, my shit doesn't fit there. Just because I'm a woman that isn't afraid to write sex doesn't mean every plot is cemented around it.

All love and sex is dumb. It doesn't operate on logic, but it's part of the human experience. It doesn't 'cheapen plots' or 'destroy intent' and, when you're already neck deep in the psychology and plotting, it's not an invasion of privacy to 'go there'. What is awkward, clumsy, confident, aggressive, passive about sex is part of what people sometimes wonder about and making all aspects of it taboo are precisely why cultures try to dance over consent, rape, fetishism and the stigma that surrounds it. Why give these offenders any room to claim they 'didn't know any better'?

So we are allowed to enjoy and implement what is dumb, but don't look down your nose at what is only a persistent and willful ignorance of its place in entertainment. There's a place for all sexy plots in all mediums. Intelligent subjects and dumb ones alike are put in place to offset the other--like light and dark, oil and water, fire and ice. Even if required education starts teaching us about each other's bodies and drives and responses, there are degrees of that understanding that don't fit into textbooks or the dusty, shameful sections of a smut pile. To balance that dialogue, we can't just encourage men and women to join the discussion, but we also have to consider the fluidity of sexuality that exists in all identities and genders.

Encourage writers to incorporate these subjects in more meaningful ways as well. If your knee-jerk reaction is to belittle all sex in literature, especially when the writer is a woman, you are certainly part of the problem.

I love dumb love and I love an intelligent plot. If you're in the same boat, you might enjoy my work.

Ageism? It's Just My Opinion.

I turn 38 this year, which means the same thing it does every year: people older than me may devalue my opinions as inexperienced and childish, people younger than me may dismiss my opinions as jaded or over saturated. As we get older, there are less of the side that looks down the age ladder and more of the isolation and accusations of the younger set.

Believe me, I do plenty of asking myself if perhaps my saturation of experience makes me harder to please, but ultimately, when I'm actually accused of this, I balk at how ridiculous this is. The idea that I can't enjoy anything because my tastes have gotten too specific or impossible to please is not implausible, yet as I run around collecting 100 of the same item I already have in a game I've already done everything else in or watched a new movie three times in a row, I can just as easily say the exact opposite. I'm also quite easy to bring into a new loop where I don't ask much at all.

As for preferences, I don't really have a set area. I'm no more a hardcore fan of fantasy than I am opposed to all things sports. I find I read more thrillers, watch more action and comedy themes and I love the Summer Olympics, even those less popular events like fencing. I don't spit on mainstream as hype nor do I swear that the lesser known are underrated because you're all uncultured swine.

Of course, when playing Kingdom Hearts 3, I wondered if I'd just aged out of liking the story. I could rephrase it to sound more empowering, but I was so uncertain of my own opinion, that I turned to the Internet to see if it was just me. No, like many other gamers and fans of all ages and backgrounds, there was something missing in the magic of the story. It was a beautiful game with great gameplay, but again, there was an overwhelming outcry of 'what happened to the story?'.

We're not morons who are too old to follow or remember the so-called complexity. For one, it's not complex, it's just layers and layers of the same boring casserole. It's Sailor Moon, Dragon Ball, Pokémon--the same concept over and over with a new car smell in the same vehicle.We're driven towards shiny new characters and outfits, but there is still something sacrificed for the cosmetic. The devices become frustratingly simple and never lead to any new concepts. The fan is in the know but the characters conveniently lose their memory, their powers, their achievements and potential. Sometimes, entire plots and subplots are dropped and because they're too complex and rich to keep afloat in the distraction. Instead, it's rinse-repeat of the simpler ones. I too often felt encumbered by a snail's pace and a tedious repetition as if I were a stupid child that hasn't been paying attention. I'm paying attention, I just feel like it's not actually earning my attention.

In return, I started skipping the story scenes. As a gamer, there was no penalty for this that detracted from my enjoyment of the game itself. As a writer and storyteller myself, I was chagrined that I wasn't engaged in the story.

This isn't a one-off occurrence either, which is why I questioned whether I was becoming jaded. Final Fantasy and Dragon Quest's latest entries also left me baffled for a similar reason. While Final Fantasy XV started out rich and fun, the last third of the game was just bad writing. This is especially true if you watched the anime and CG movie leading up to it and wondered why the build-up led to absolutely nothing at all. Why even write an epic where there is no point? It's about as exciting as the neighbor passing out from heatstroke while mowing their lawn. It's not newsworthy, so why tell the world like it's worth everyone's time? Dragon Quest's usual fun romp with puns and cheesy goodness just felt corny and flat. While there were moments meant to captivate with emotion or drama, the light-heartedness of the presentation didn't fit these themes. Yet games like Dragon Age, Witcher 3 and Skyrim, despite or maybe because of their lack of endless cutscenes, still top my best games list, and not because they were flawless or even innovative stories. 

Uncharted, despite being accused of being playable movies, don't feel like a hostage situation to me. The cinematics always built the right amount of tension and I felt the flow when it was time to mash buttons again. I was embedded in the same way Marvel movies hook me--there's serious choreography and strategy to what makes the action so engaging that I hate to blink and miss the fluid transitions in every movement. There's a real sense of the genuine in the conversations and the plots. It's even possible to forget that these are grown-ups in silly costumes at times. It's not small talk and there's nuance and subtlety beyond the surface.

Hell, I've even been accused of cultural snobbery. Despite being otaku to Japanese everything for much of my fandom, some people still insist I don't understand the cultural preferences of small talk and storytelling of Japanese culture. However, I can just as soon point out what I consider to be successful in many Japanese stories that I still enjoy. The absurd part is that this accusation almost always comes from white men. I like to remind them that my opinion isn't representative of all American white women, but while we're there, does my taste and opinion become less valid if the story just doesn't jibe for me? Trying to invalidate my opinion by pointing out my race, gender, etc. is a strawman argument used to make me defend myself rather than accept my skills and talents are adequate to hold the debate. I am a storyteller, a creative, an editor, a professional in many creative fields, if not an expert in some, yet an unfavorable opinion can lead to a question as to all of that. Fuck me for choosing a field rife with subjective opinion, but let's not attack my character for attacking the build of a fictional one. When our tastes don't match, it too often becomes a personal attack, so I often go out of my way to talk about the work, not why your opinion doesn't match mine.

I want to love everything I try. It's for that reason that I am probably going in too soft, giving something more credit than it has earned from the onset. It's not easy for me to ditch nostalgia or feelings because I want to be loyal. I'm not even relieved when I'm not the only one to just not love something anymore. I'm crushed when sequels don't improve on something I love. When I write, I know personally that I want each story to be better and, hell, as of now, I have no great success of popularity to even bank on, so I absolutely don't feel like I can coast on a great beginning. Yet I can't eschew honesty when I'm falling out of love. I would rather hand in my fan card than pretend I love current trends.

I can live with being the jaded old fogey. It's not worse than being discredited as inexperienced or ignorant. Sometimes I'm easily amused or entertained and other times, I'm over-critical and impossible to please. Perhaps I'm also lucky that I'm in the position of a creator, that rather than getting burned in the search for the next best thing, I can hunker down and fulfill what I want to exist. I'll probably always be discredited for really absurd reasons. I'm even in a place where I have to protect young white boys from being discredited because everything white, male, ableist, straight, etc. is being called to task. Their fight to have respected opinions is often going to be a struggle not to fucking offend everyone and assert themselves as individuals, not representatives of all that is wrong with white men. Ageism is the least of their problems, but certainly a part of it, because there is no golden age for being universally respected.

Why are we called to task for perceived advantages? It is an abyss, really, but it seems ever more absurd that just the act of liking something superficially often comes with the burden of questioning if it's 'okay' to. Does it make us a stereotype of our age or gender, etc. to like or not like anything?

Yup, it's exhausting. An unavoidable burden of living. We wish we could be as stupid, ignorant, or shallow as we're sometimes accused of being, if only because there's peace in emptying ourselves of the burdens of so much dead weight. 

I can't say I don't care what people think. Yet I can say that we can't afford to care about everything. We sometimes have to clear our caches and be content with ourselves, to quiet our brains and accept our own opinions before we seek to bring others in. We do need to bring in opinions and be validated and share and give and take, but wisdom teaches us that if we can't face ourselves once we act and think and share, we must adjust what we allow to take in and put out there.

Age does not assure wisdom, but it also does not assure senility. To discredit someone, especially yourself, because they've cultivated years and routines and selectivity in what goes in and out is a discredit in itself. 

Learn to smile or laugh in the face of words used as weapons. Don't let people put words in your mouth that make you mute towards your own potential. Defend your right to be what you are. Walk away if the time isn't right to mount a defense. Don't let someone else's ignorance of what is important to you dissolve your ability to enjoy or dissect it for your personal growth. People have bad days and it makes them petty. Don't give that shit real estate in your head.

And when people arrive at a point where they antagonize, patronize or condescend to throw off the argument, they've already lost. You don't have to invest in that snobbery. Walk away, add a dash of 'fuck you' and move on to greener pastures. You're only getting older and there's never a good time to endure heaps of the same bullshit.

It Always Starts on a Rainy Night

Sure, there are exceptions, but in literature and movies, there's always that air of mystery wrapped into those rainy nights. Maybe it's a cheap and automatic draw into the shared experience that comes with the rain. Inconvenience, the love/loathing of the rain's smell, the warmth/chill of water on the skin, the concealment, the greater population staying out of it in favor of staying dry--whatever it is, there are layers for the writer to explore or to leave to the reader's imagination.

Whenever I start a story, one of the primary concerns I have is where I am setting the first character that will serve as a lead-in for the story. How much they are aware depends on how they feel about the weather. Would they love snow or rain or be complacent on a dry night? Does cold make their scars ache or does the heat make them sweat and itch? So often, a writer will talk about how deep and rich a character is, but it's also true that good writing is on the skin. You don't have to write the ode to itchy skin, but it's also important that the writer is aware of the skin they're in.

Speaking of skin, are we aware of the subjectivity of beauty? Are they perceived as beautiful or ugly and do they agree? Does being called one or the other always seem to stun them or do they ignore it unfazed? Are they an ugly crier or does their skin blotch red when they swallow their emotions? Does rain make their skin uncomfortable or do they avoid it to preserve their vanity and expensive fashion choices?

Wherever you begin the setting of your writing or just imaginations, the layers beneath it aren't always an active process of doing. As a gatherer of observations, there may be less notes and more scattered thoughts as we jump from one curiosity to the next. Sometimes it doesn't really start at a neat spot; sometimes it's an overwhelming web and when we whittle it down...

It's just odd how often that the place so often comes down to a rainy night.

UnNamed started there and the idea I was hashing out last night came around to the rainy night too. Despite my own meditative experience with rain, in my stories, I always see it in the reason for urgency, the playground for the determination of someone to brave it because life has more pressing matters than waiting for the rain to stop.

Time and again, I start there too because I'm looking for something across those oddly-sentient nights where water and air are testing human affairs for resiliency.

And the rebel in me started UnSung in a place quite opposite. Why let the curiosity always hover on obsession? What's on the polar opposite of an obsession has answers too.

A Pre-Release Treat!

Even though I didn't end up going with this design, I'm still rather fond of UnSung's first cover design, so share time!

Remember, ebook preorders are available now but print will be on Amazon February 21st. If you can't find it through your favorite retailer, let me know and I'll look into changing that.

Thank you so much to everyone who was in on this crazy journey with me. Many of my friends endured my very fragmented babbling while I piece this series together and I can't say enough that I am grateful to anyone who lets my passions run wild. There are still two more books to write in this series, but many side tales on the wings.

Shut. Up. Already.

No, not you; my brain needed some public shaming to process my overall frustration. My muscles ache down to my very fingertips and this blob of grey matter is full speed ahead insisting on some really amazing story ideas. Not the ideas that will push my current projects past their hurdles, noooo. New. Better, even, it insists, although we've had this argument before and supposedly we agreed that comparisons, for better or worse, are creative death.

Look, I know this brain is the very same singular one I own and not actually a separate entity, but there's such a thing as duality (and more) in a single house and sometimes it's a whole damn deck of cards. It takes one over-excited toddler thought screaming '52 pickup!' to send the whole deck flying. So, however you describe it, this is one brain warring with me on what use my body can actually be to my aspirations. Even when I surrender to prove I am physically incapable, it will wait all of a minute before sending a 'how about now?'

Logic and impulse might as well be two ever-present entities. Because ultimately I know they're both pricks, too blunt to be trusted to control my mouth, I let them do battle in the cranium. They knock against my teeth and make my eyes g fuzzy, but more often than not, if impulse doesn't tumble out prematurely, logic will prevail through sheer stamina. Impulse likes naps and ice cream far more than fighting with logic.

Logic, on the other hand, is on vacation when I'm not feeling well. So here I be, tapping away at a tablet to humor impulse until it scurries off for naps. Logic makes a story work. Yes. I wholly agree. But you need not a lot of anything to entertain rough ideas.

Are my notes coherent? Only by the grace of autocorrect could that be possible. I'm not even sure I'm hitting the keys that make words. I'm reading every sentence three times just to make sure they're not abusing the English language too unforgivably.

What I'd really like to do is write in earnest. However, logic sent a postcard and informs me it'll be back once I get my shit together. 

Psh. Logic, you're an abused lover that thinks it can't do better. We both know I'll never get my shit together.

Eagerly Awaiting

So, my proof copy of UnSung is on its way. It's that copy I can look at and see if this is a copy worthy of that price tag I'm putting on it. $20, for those who are curious, but it costs $10-something to print, then the minimum charge of $16-something means charging $20 will net me a not-even-$2 profit. My profit per ebook is close to $4-something so I'd actually encourage ebook sales this time around.

So no, more book does not mean more money for me. Just putting that out there for the prospective authors. You probably shouldn't be doing this for the money...

So what can you expect from this one? I don't think it gets easier to explain a new book, no matter how many times I've done it. My novels all tend to feature simple subplots that weave into a bigger picture and this one is no exception. If you did read the epilogue of UnNamed, then you were introduced to Talia, a fire dancer who is nervous about school and boys and her faltering self-confidence. After meeting Aiden, a bard who can't speak, she is thrust into a series of events that remove her from her once-carefully selected plans.

UnSung starts from the bard's perspective (not first person, mind you; third-person limited). Even with a sea between Aiden and his old life, he feels the paranoia of it catching up to him. Neither Talia nor Aiden are able to easily assimilate into a life where their own decisions matter. However, who they are and what they want to be are a distant third to what the world has in store for them. A dangerous mage that almost shattered the world is at large, murders of a very calculated and macabre nature crop up, and an abandoned city begins to seem as good a refuge as any in this world.

This is a slow-burner series with enthralling subplots uncovering the secrets of the four Gods, the rebirth of magic, the fall and rise of new civilizations. There is capricious romance, fickle magic, mystery, and dark suspense involved, but it's largely a playground for exploring the big picture through the little details.

Don't worry about needing a glossary; I don't dump exposition on you and new vocabulary and names are not heavy in this series. The complexity is woven into the psychology and themes rather than the terminology.

UnHeard... is another story. Literally and figuratively. This one takes on a more political (but fictitious--I'm not making a current statement through fiction) angle so I may be providing a list in the back matter of all of the Houses. For some people, the details will be interesting, but I don't want it to be a requirement (and an info dump) that weighs down the story. However, it takes place in a nation of islands that still cling to a very strict monarchy tethered to its geography. Again, while these details do maneuver into the plot, I still find my writing is more driven by the movements of the characters. They are the ripples that create the tidal waves.

I'm heartened to see that the struggle for women writers who write romance/erotica themes into epic fantasy aren't being tamped down by literary prudes. It is certainly their preference to make wrongful assumptions concerning our depth. Much like how detractors of blue language make blanket assumptions about the intelligence of people who use it, there are still self-proclaimed literary experts who reduce women writing any 'soft' themes into complex stories as crude, crass, undisciplined, shallow, basic, awwww, just pick your old-timey derogatory synonym for 'female'. Even if women do tend to be the majority of our audience, the idea that men should be the majority of a readership for it to be valid or worthy is perplexing. Are we still assuming that gender really has that kind of power these days? Or that women should just scamper into the romance section and quit striving for literary diversity? Bitch, please.

As a writer, I'm not going to work too hard to avoid or adopt ANY trends just to rebel or assimilate to what is expected of me. I'm going to write what my story needs to be. If I am simply writing things to make sure I include a market, then I am actually excluding the depths of my potential, which means dipping those toes in waters that I know may be infested with sharks.

Of course, publish independently and people will invent even more hoops for you to jump through. They'll question what you've invested in it, WHO you've invested in it... Is it any wonder that a great deal of writers just ditch social media and get to the writing? The more you succeed in any aspect, the more you'll find those detractors.

It's because of the changing climate of publishing that indie writers are asking for one simple contribution: if you like what we write, post a short review. Yes, there is plenty of crap passing through the gates, but if you want a more diverse market that doesn't suffer for quality, then direct people to the work you've taken a risk on. Say what you like or don't like, let the market know when indie is doing it right. While stomping and pouting won't make shitty book farmers go away, reviewers can restore some integrity to the market. I'm not just talking Amazon either. GoodReads, Books2Read--there are many outlets to post your thoughts on that can direct other book lovers to work they might jibe with.

Speaking of which, I need to upgrade some sites to reflect my upcoming release so I'll catch ya later! No small task...

Put a Face On It

When asked to pick a quote or advice as my favorite, my mind goes predictably blank for the sheer number of possible profound or fitting quotes. Then I smile and remember there's a trend I fell in love with years ago that applies to both the silly and profound alike.

Put a face on it.

If a fruit is boring, put a face on it. If the unknown is scary, put a face on it. If your character is flat, put a face on it. My screensaver on my old iPod Touch is marshmallows with sparkly eyes and big smiles. There is next to nothing that can overwhelm you if you put a face on it.

When I look around my room, there are easily hundreds of faces wherever I look. Crocheted happy cupcakes, brooding sketches, dreamy dolls, disproportionate plushies, my fish. Button eyes, googly eyes, soulful eyes paired with little mouths, toothy grins and trademark smirks. The less realistic, the better, because the basic shape of a face and an artistic rendition tells me more than a photograph.

Metaphorically, everything has a face, which is why I mentioned fears. When we are terrified or shocks, faces can blur or blend or disappear. We can't face our fears until we give them a face. There's  a satisfaction in looking coolly at what we fear and telling it that it no longer has power over us. Even if it's a bit of a lie and we're pants-shittingly terrified, there's that triumph in forming the words and not squeaking it out in a mousy voice.

Sometimes the fear is truly beaten, at least in terms that even if we hesitate, we still don't let it stop us. When my friend Matt admitted to his fears in becoming an author, I was probably too casual in dispensing the advice that you develop a thick skin. When I said that, it was with the courage I had as an artist, not the fact that I was even more vulnerable than he when it came to publishing my writing.

I didn't want to be a hypocrite when I had made writing my faceless fear.

Put a face on it.

It wasn't a simple process. Many people would have quit in the frustration of getting it there. Yet I felt like I was an impostor to give advice about writing when I was being so precious with my own. I essentially went to college to be more courageous with my talents, then nearly passed up the challenge that had been nibbling untested for so long.

It took my unfair nonchalance over writing to decide I needed to put my money where my mouth is. What was I waiting for? Could I get any better if I was hoarding it like a dirty secret? Hell no.

No matter what you do in life, really consider how well you've looked at your choices. Don't pass up a chance to take your own advice. And when life hands you lemons?

Put faces on them. 

Get Write on It

If you don't know much about Cincinnati, Ohio (where I live), then I'll put you a little up to speed. Over the past few years especially, our temperatures have been setting record highs and lows and erratic weather patterns that mean we no longer experience four separate seasons. We've been seeing more wildlife than we commonly had and this includes the fact that my sister was bitten by a cottonmouth snake, which is almost unheard of here. We have three 'common' venomous snakes in Ohio and that isn't one of them. And no, the house she was in was not the home of an illegal snake enthusiast. Because of the weather fluctuations, animals' migratory patterns and dormancies are out of whack. In fact, the trees almost immediately start belching out pollen at the first sign of warm weather, so it's not limited to the animals.

So that puts me here; abnormal allergies for this time of year and next to no energy. If not for the simplicity of the formatting process, thanks to Scrivener 3 and D2D for REALLY minimizing what I couldn't accomplish with Word and the usual submitting to retailers, I'd really be struggling to get that stuff done.

As is, I've found it rather difficult to get right into... anything. I've been poking at everything, but very little takes. A little crochet, a little writing, a little drawing, but nothing is really pulling me. I feel the ideas fuzzy on the edges of my brain, but the starter is clicking when I turn the key. I feel a wellness week coming on--one where I sleep, practice mindful eating, exercise and tend to allergies and low energy issues. I'd already intended to get to playing more Kingdom Hearts 3, yet I'm still a little disappointed that my creative side isn't a little more engaged. Even if it's down to crochet or making those bead sprite magnets, but no, right now, it's a bit of a vegetative consumption time.

For that reason, I think that the writing will come down to blogs or the short stories I was working on.

I would like to throw up the UBL for UnSung: use this link to purchase/preorder it from your favorite retailer. Or you can look me up by name on any major retailer. If you don't see it on yours, drop me a message and I'll look into it. I try to keep an eye on every channel, but on occasion, especially for my earlier books, there can be holes in what's available where.

Oh, for the record, my sister is doing fine. The finger is actually healing better than expected, but she is still being tested daily for blood infections and any change in the finger. It appears to be draining well and while there is little feeling in it, there is great circulation. So far, no sign that the finger will need to be amputated but it may be another week or so before they know for sure.

It's a good time to remind everyone that, with a snake bite, get to a hospital immediately. Even with non-venomous bites, there are serious risks for infection, including salmonella, and every second is crucial in survival. Don't leave these things up to chance.