Posts

Push, and breach

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 Nine months. That must be some kind of record for me. If I was the type to read into things, I might note that it's also the time it takes to make a new human from scratch.  I'm here puzzling through the audio book process, wishing I had practiced better organizational habits. As per usual, I'm learning a lot between sighs, as if the despondent air displaces to make room for the more useful knowledge.  Entering the process, my focus diffuses, like the thrust of a good night's rest striking a solid river boulder. I find old pictures in search of cover art, delete some and make mental notes to share others. I find old files in search of manuscripts, and work briefly on book blurbs. I frown and I groan and I thrash.  All of which to say, progress. My cover artist is graduating college, which is a proud moment. Work on the 6th cover has been delayed for a variety of reasons, and ultimately I take accountability for some of it as well. The edits have gone poorly, most notab

The imparting or exchanging of information

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 I talked somewhat about how good the communication has been between my cover artist and myself. That's probably an oversimplification, because his posts on social media really outline how much he works on all aspects of his process. This refers to how hard he works, but also how well. This next cover will be the sixth cover of eight, and I feel very fortunate that we've been able to keep things together for years at this point, given the consistently increasing amount of opportunities that he gets, year after year, as he earns more exposure and recognition. I feel very confident I will be one of those people who might say "I knew him back when," and people may not even believe me.  In regards to process, things were very sloppy for the first cover. Our language wasn't very synced, nor did he have a great idea of what he needed from me to begin producing, nor did I have a way to really understand how my own words percolated into his artwork. I showed a potential

Let's play a game

 I've discovered there is a point where even Facebook will give up on you.  I last posted in February. I guess around March I was reminded that I hadn't posted in a while. Maybe I got another reminder in April, but even then, I could tell that the robots were fed up. I would've been, too. I wasn't sulking; I might have even questioned what the use would've been, but that would've just been untrue. It's virtually impossible to say why, but for whatever reason I had a mysterious, steady few periods of royalty payments. I got an email from Amazon, then another, then another. I found it all very suspicious, and strangely was too busy with other work to really pay attention. I took a diligent moment to thank my luck, be grateful for readers, and then went about trying not to drown at my new job. I didn't think at all to blog.  And that's not why I'm writing now, either. I'm writing now because a thought I had been gnawing on for months, years, fin

Patrick Stewart cannot be killed

  I saw friends the other day that I hadn’t seen in months. Their surprise that I had drastically changed my hair style was like a gauge for time. I remembered warmer weather and fireworks. I remembered that I had cut my hair around the time that I started the new job. I’d like to say somewhere in there I also remembered when I had last blogged, but that would be a lie.   But it would be true if I said I had been writing. Not true in the sideways sense that the next rewrite is coming along, which it is, or in a distracted sense in that the 5 th  book is out and available for purchase , which it is, but in the pure sense that I had the idea of something new, and started pecking away at it, and have put a dozen or so thousand words onto paper.   Combined with the work schedule, which is on its way to becoming routine, it is a grind. I don’t have a lot of excess energy for it, though I have identified time to devote, but consistently nearing E on my fuel tank has led to some odd dreams an

Syn(onymous)

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 I have an update, if brief.  This cover comprises the best collaboration between my artist and I thus far. I imagined this situation about a decade ago. I didn't realize it was unrealistic at the time, but what I wanted was for the artist to read the work to develop a conversation, from which would come an image that would benefit from their creativity and their intimate understanding. To his credit, he did start my first book, which is more than I could probably ask for. But we did have that conversation. I substituted his reading with my explaining, themes, metaphors, allusions, foreshadowing. He did have questions. He did go away and come back and the sketch brought to light some of the perspectives I wasn't considering, which is really all I wanted the whole time. So, the work continues.  I'm also writing this because not everyone has platforms, and I think it is important to speak for the better, no matter how tall ours may be. A friend brought this to my attention,

Amusement, parked

 A while back, years, I explained how my first book series came about. At least, I think I did. Eight books were the result of a process set purely on following the story. I didn't so much have an outline as events I anticipated from various protagonists pursuing their wants. A mentor once told me to progress a story all one has to do is move a character closer or farther away from their goal. This contraction and expansion idea has become a bit more complex and nuanced over the years, but in the beginning that's all it was for me. That's how I ended up with eight books. After the first book, it made the most narrative sense for the characters to go in different physical directions. I was not so much energetic as curious, so I followed along. Those three books gained sequels of their own, before things bent back on themselves narratively and wrapped up with the eighth book. When it came time to release them, I did not have the luxury of choosing to put them out simultaneous

Work in progress

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 In 2007, I was gifted my first glut of free mental space in years. I had graduated college, and before all the stresses of adult life had fully taken root, I reveled in the freedom from all the stressors of college life. I hung out a lot at a new friend's rented home. I say new because these were not the people I had met in college; these were my first post-college friends. Eventually, upon sharing present and past interests, I was introduced to a supernatural show that "everyone" had seen and "thought was awesome." I never had, but with the entire box set being pushed at me, I eventually relented and started watching them. I ended up in a place that was very reminiscent of where I was in 2000, when I started a journey through what I called the door-stop fantasy novels: brick-shaped, popular fantasy series that were very popular at the time, the kinds of things that have become very popular television shows in the past decade. At the time, in 2000, the foremost