updates and high hopes

Hey, everyone!

I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who has pre-ordered a copy of The Shadow Bearers. Rebecca and I really appreciate it!

Today on my podcast, Too Many Words, I talk with Rebecca all about The Shadow Bearers. What inspired us, how much fun it is building a fantasy world with a friend, and quite a bit more. You’ll get to learn more about us as well.

Do it up!

iTunes: http://goo.gl/0yXoZN

Stitcher: http://goo.gl/GlYWRa

More exciting news is that original artwork of Athea, Tag, Mayhem, and the locketts is in the works! So definitely keep your eyes out for that.

We are having fun getting new chapters ready for you to read. Both Rebecca and I are having so much fun working together. We are excited but also anxious to get in the Top 10 soon. We are in September, which means The Shadow Bearers is now in the second month of the Geek & Sundry Fantasy contest. There are a lot of great books, and we are excited to be a part of it.

10 more pre-orders unlocks Chapter 5: Drawn to Darkness

25 more pre-orders unlocks Chapter 6: Evil Alliances

Please pre-order your copy and tell a friend!

https://www.inkshares.com/books/the-shadow-bearers

Thank you so much for all your support and continued support. We can’t do it without your help!

The Beginning

In my next attempt to lure you into preordering a copy of The Shadow Bearers and help my friend and I win the Geek & Sundry fantasy contest, you will find the first part of Chapter One below. I’d love to hear your feedback.

Chapter One:

Athea’s footsteps matched her wolf’s. Gangly trees framed the sky. The further she got into the dark wood the more her impending future faded into the midsts. She preferred hunting

Athea’s footsteps matched her wolf’s. Gangly trees framed the sky. The further she got into the dark wood the more her impending future faded into the midsts. She preferred hunting hairlings to receiving congratulations for an event that hadn’t happened yet. Wishing hail for what was expected enticed her to draw her weapons.

The walls of duty closed in around her. Night was near. The usual signs of the dimming sky was Athea’s favorite time to hunt despite the risks involved. She went further than advised. Dreams of what the dark lands looked like forced her awake when everyone else could sleep. Whispers of the dead tugged at her toes under the fur blanket. She wondered if it was a warning, but couldn’t be sure. Paranoia often blurred the lines of reality and illusions of fear. Now in the deep woods the idea faded. It would be a challenge to convince herself back to the village. The large mountains stood fierce behind the trees adding to how trapped she felt—living for a destiny she never wanted, something she would have never chosen for herself. Athea believed in a soul’s journey. Her father often asked her what she thought she was chosen for. Athea didn’t know what it was, just what it wasn’t. The power could have gone to any of her siblings, but it went to her. A curse.

A soft rustle brought Athea’s eyes to the sound’s source. A small gray hairling stood frozen between two hailberry bushes. She fanned out her hand signaling to her wolf. Mayhem stood dead his tracks. His wise eyes set on his master awaiting her cue. Athea pulled out her bow, then slid an arrow from her quiver. She nocked an arrow as she locked the prey in her sights. Her fingers tightened around the string. She arched her shoulder back as she pulled back the tension. Her eyes narrowed and focused. The fletching twisted in the wind as the arrow soared through a clearing in the brush. The moist soil soft under her hide boots. The cutting through the flesh was faint but a sound Athea would recognize anywhere.

“Mayhem, laana!” Athea extended her finger toward the rodent’s small carcass. “Gentle this time,” she warned.

Mayhem nodded before trotting into the wood. Athea slid her crossbow back into the gearpack. She leaned against a tree trunk. Her fingers danced across the dozen dead hairlings hanging from her belt. Dread of tomorrow’s ceremony whispered for her to run. She wouldn’t. Athea was stubborn and angry but she was always loyal. Something she called a fault but her father called a trait. The thought of her father brought a smile to her face. Lately the smile was tainted with sadness. He was ill. His time was ending. Fear and selfishness followed these thoughts. Her village’s safety would be up to her. Her father, Chief Meshvar, lead the Dagee, in The War From Nowhere, despite the loss of their allies the Nari. He fought them long enough to get his people to safety behind the great mountains. How could she follow that? Another war was certain, it was the when unclear. Mayhem sauntered back. His jaw loose around the tiny corpse.

Athea hung the limp hairling on her belt next to the others. A gust of wind rushed her way. The smell of smoke inescapable. It didn’t carry the scent of a campfire nor did it hold any resemblance of a spice or fat that indicated cooking. Her tribe had their faults but their survival skills wouldn’t lead any of them to cook past nightfall. Death loomed heavy in the air. She turned to her wolf, Mayhem. His gray eyes fixed on forces she could not see. Athea brought the tips of her fingers to her mouth.

She spoke the words, “Vine to vane. Ash to spine.”

Athea lay her fingers over the root-rich soil. Green and blue orbs hovered in the space between. All the energy kept coming back to her. There were no connections to receive her message. Usually, her community rushed in, roots connected all of them, but there was only silence. A desperate plea of panic rushed around in her gut. Mayhem whined. His eyes narrowed. He studied a distant cluster of sap weed trees.

“What is that?” Athena whispered to her wolf, both her hands grasped her rapiers—an extension of her after years of training.

Mayhem inched closer to the invisible threat. The bushes tousled. He growled and snapped his enormous jaw in warning. Athea pulled her weapons from their sheaths. Her words only audible inside her head. Broken twigs and crushed leaves sang in peril though there were no visible signs of anything.

Maybe conjurers, Athea wondered then dismissed thought. Conjurers wouldn’t be this far north. Her grasp around her weapons tightened.

A large part formed in the trees as a body collapsed from the underbrush. His large frame hit the dirt ground with a thud. A leather cord strung through a copper medal hung from his bloody hand. He was from her village. She raced toward him ignoring Mayhem’s warning.

Bent at the knees she turned the burned body to face her. The familiar glazed eyes of Kolton, the butcher, stared back at her. He held no acknowledgment that he knew Athea, the future chief, the one whose power skipped her first three siblings–a legend before she was born.

“What happened to you?”  

“It found us,” he muttered through gasps. Blood pooled at both corners of his mouth. His body fell limp in her arms. Mayhem howled. His eyes waiting for Athea’s cue.

Her mind came to no other options. Athea stood up. “Let’s head home,” she slapped her leg as she glanced once more at the still body. She would come back for the Kolton’s body once she understood the situation.

Athea and Mayhem trudged through the thicket, following the path they took to the hunting ground.

I sensed something before I geared up. I should have listened. I wouldn’t, she thought as she positioned her weapons to block her chest. I was too angry.

The smoke grew thicker the closer they got to camp. The dead hairlings thumped against her side as she ran closer. She ignored any fear warning her to slow down. Her eyes burned around the edges; her lungs struggling to work past the smoke. She cupped her hand over her eyes as one does to block the sun but the act served as no help, but her effort eased the panicked despair climbing her spine.

    Mayhem’s side brushed against her leather protected thigh. Wind rippled through her braids; the same breeze pushing soot-laden air into her face. The roar of the fire reached her ears now. Mayhem whined for their family. The stench of burnt flesh threatened to swallow them as the approaching flames grew near. Devastation flooded Athea. Charred bodies littered the cursed ground. Her village engulfed in angry flames. The fire that swallowed the council huts formed a distant circle. Silhouettes of the others staggered around the tortured corpses. A sense of dark magic lingered near the devastation. Athea collapsed to the ground. Pain goaded to eat her alive. Her father and everyone she knew, gone. Ruin ran rapid in her newly broken soul. An ominous fog stamped through the forsaken grounds. A force resembling nothing human. Dark shadows hastened around the bodies whose souls will never get the opportunity to grow properly with the earth.

Her daggers glowed green—an enchantment indicating dark magic only used by those consumed by hate.

We weren’t hidden well enough. It was foolish to think the great mountains would be adequate.

Athea’s emotion escalated in her, creating thousands of fissures.

She cursed herself.

All that time I wasted wishing my fate was anything but leading the village.

Athea never considered the idea of everything being taken from her. Her chosen legacy stripped away.

Her mind spiraled. Concrete thoughts were no longer coming together, only fragments of darkness and loss. Mayhem nuzzled her hand. His eyes set on the horizon past the village. He took two careful strides toward the cliff side. Her companion was right; the distance was the first step.

You can read the rest of Chapter One and Chapter Two on Inkshares: https://www.inkshares.com/books/the-shadow-bearers 

 

this is where I beg

I tweeted yesterday, “Riding a fine line between delusions of grandeur and crippling self-doubt is part of my process.” It’s so true. Especially recently. Making a big jump to make my dreams come true leaves me unsettled. Probably because it makes me vulnerable. As some of you may know fantasy author, Rebecca Clark and I have entered our novel ‘The Shadow Bearers’ into the Geek and Sundry contest. My stomach is in knots and my hopes are high.

 

will

I want it so bad. The thing I am realizing is producing good content I can do, but selling units I have a lot to learn. It’s all part of it. I got so close with several agents with the YA contemporary I have been shopping. They have all come back and said contemporary isn’t selling the way it was. People want to see more fantasy. I’m glad I love writing and consuming fantasy but the realization Not Without Sunshine is farther from finding a home is difficult to swallow. Part of my makeup in romanticizing and dreaming big. Sometimes it is hard not to bend, to feel frustrated.
gg
I feel weird asking people to support my work, but it’s something I have to do to help my dreams come true.
We need a hand. Geek & Sundry pick the top three books and publish them, distribute them to bookstores, and shop the book around for other media possibilities as well.
We are making a big push to get 50 pre-orders by 50 new readers by the weekend. That puts us in the top ten, on the front page of the contest, and is a great way to reach our goals.
Here is the link to The Shadow Bearer Page https://www.inkshares.com/books/the-shadow-bearers
Rebecca and I are having a blast writing this together. Thank you for your help!
thank you
 
 
I included the prologue of The Shadow Bearers. I’d love to hear what you think. Chapter one and two are on Inkshares and Chapter three and four will be posted next week.
Athea brought the tips of her fingers to her mouth. She spoke the words, -Vine to vane. Ash to spine.- 1.jpg
Prologue

Chrysthe swallowed the urge to cry out as she dropped to her knees. The bodies of their tribe members’ lifeless spirits were strewn throughout the center of the village. “The darkness took it all while we were hunting, Emon. We need to run!” The urgency in her voice surprised her. They knew this day was coming why now the attempt at salvation?

Neilos wanted more power. Needed more power. Neilos’s hunger to be a legend led him into the arms of Kala, The Goddess of the Cipher Land. When he abandoned his people the Dagee, he sacrificed their lives. His thirst to rule all Hudtira far outweighed what he had right in front of him. His followers one of the many costs. His own sister, Chrysthe, left to fend for herself.

Emon pulled Chrysthe off the ground and cradled her face between his warm hands. “Unfortunately, my love, there is nowhere we can go. The Darkness will find us. We were all warned years ago.” Emon sighed heavily with the realization this could have been avoided.

“I don’t want to give up Emon.” Chrysthe pulled away from his grasp. She headed for the trail leading to the mountain’s summit. Emon knew she might find comfort in a place they’ve cherished through the years. The only place they could truly be together. Pine needle covered branches reached out to them as they hurried away from the settlement. A hollow sensation followed close behind. An emptiness so vast they could almost smell the cipher edging closer.

Both were silent as they tread up the mountain one last time. The undeniable realization sunk into Chrysthe’s gut as they ascended. Nothing could spare their lives.  Blood dripped from her balled up fists. She realized she was digging her nails into her palms soft skin as they reached the trail’s end. Defeat encased her bones.

Chrysthe leaned against the mountain’s vertical slate peak admiring the view of the land. Her head turned toward the river. She joined her fingertips. A blueish hue glowed in the space between her hands, “Vine to vane. Ash to spine.”

“I wasn’t aware that you cared enough about the Nari to protect them,” Emon stated. “After all they’re half the reason we’ve lost our tribe.”

“Yes, but our tribe is the other half of the reason. We started this too.” Chrysthe let out an exaggerated sigh. “No one should have to lose everything. It may be too late but any help I can grant is better than nothing.” Chrysthe’s cheeks burned as her palms tingled. The chant cast.

Emon paced back and forth debating what to do next. “I don’t foresee a way out of this, do you?”

“No. Not now. It’s not time.”

A flash of movement appeared in the corner of her eye.

“It’s too late for us, Emon.”

The Darkness hurtled toward them on the mountain top. Nowhere left to go.

“I love you with all of me, Chrysthe.” A single tear rolled down his face.

“Me, too.” Emon pulled Chrysthe toward him and held her.

This was their end.

They both knew it was pointless to fight the shadows, no one was ready for the change necessary to restore the peace. Without a sound the Darkness rolled in. When the shadows subsided both Emon and Chrysthe were gone.

Beneath the fallen dominion of the Dagee, Neilos stood in his chambers. His stretched hands folded at the waist.  Ferena, once a vibrant and prosperous nation is nothing but crumbled buildings cast in the purple clouds. The perimeter of the enchantment guarded by shadows—a benefit of following Kala’s orders. Bulging veins the color of wild violets weaved up his neck like vines strangling a green giant. A deep shadow resembling a human stood beside him—something only few could see. Neilos focused his stare on the mist rising from a stone pillar standing in the center of his rock-walled cavern. The only light source was the glow from his powers and a candle resting on the bone alter.

“Pascentium vitia, spiritus et carbones,” Neilos spoke in a melodic song. His long

chestnut hair shaved to the skin. An outline of a spider reached to each ear, then trailed down his neck. He hasn’t yet earned the right to mark his back.

“Send them back, not further,” an icy gust thrashed past his drawn face.

“They aren’t finished,” he snapped before reconsidering his audience. “They should do more before returning to their hosts.”

“What took thousands of years to build costs more than a week’s work,” the voice sounded closer to a woman’s. The blurry outlines grew more defined. The tip of a pointed nose quickly followed her flushed cheeks. He waited for more details of her to reveal themselves though Neilios never saw her lips. Her brief clarity faded back to an obscurity.  

“More can be done.” His voice rushed and frustrated.

“You need rest. Creatures will always have fear and hate. There is no concern of loss here.”  Each word the shadow spoke grew louder. Then just like a breeze past the flame of a candle, the voice went out. Nelios now stood alone in his tomb of worship. He nodded at the carved stone reaching from the ground to the curved planchement.

He pressed his fingertips together. “Quaerere nihil magis, sequor domum.”  

The purple light coursed from his hands surrounding the stone. His eyes rolled back into his head leaving only vast white orbs framing his nose. The small room’s air grew thinner. Neilos lungs gasped before the air became thin again. Silence filled his mind. He extinguished the candle’s flame with one heavy breath.

Everything grew quiet.

The whispers of failure nagged at the corners of his desperate mind. He chose to focus on the smell of muck permeating from the slop between the stone walls. His mind slowed as he began to pick at each detail of the smell. The lands he stole weighed heavier in the quiet.

chasing dreams

Hey, guys!

I haven’t been blogging as much as I’d like to. I tried the before bedtime and I only stuck to it for a week. I have so many deadlines and honestly, I couldn’t be more excited about it. I love to write, building my career is challenging but rewarding. Following dreams can be terrifying but I believe it’s necessary. Things have just been super busy. Most of my nights have been me bent over my computer writing until I’m close to passed out. I’m hoping once the fall comes I’ll have some more time to blog.

I’ve been working a lot behind the scenes, getting things set up and being heads down and creating. One of the things taking up my time has been co-writing a fantasy novel with the wonderful author, Rebecca Clark. It originally started as a short story and became so much more. Rebecca and I just entered our fantasy project in an Inkshares contest with Geek & Sundry. I’m really excited and nervous.

The more preorders the project receives and better chance it has to win. Winning would be amazing and help me get so much closer to my dreams.  Below you’ll find the blurb and cover. I’d love to know your thoughts. You can comment below if you have any questions. Shares and preorders would be so appreciated. It makes me nervous to put myself out there like this but we are super proud of this story and would love the chance to share the entire version with the world.

ShadowBearerseBook.jpgView the book on Inkshares

Countless Huditra villages demolished by a darkness spreading throughout the lands. Thousands slain by the falling shadows. Hate looms over the forgotten lands like heavy fog stifling the little life that’s left. Over the years the Nafarat have been casting their magic, destroying all that’s natural. The War From Nowhere forced those who’ve survived the initial attacks into hiding. Nothing alive was safe. Both Tag, the leader of the Nari, river, people and Athea, the future chief of Dagee, the tribe behind the mountains, are all that’s left standing of their kind. With their home grounds no longer safe Tag and Athea hit the traveler’s road, each with individual missions. When their paths cross, they reluctantly team up to seek the answers that will lead them to free the land of shadows.

She deserves a novel.

Do you ever get a nagging an idea that not only refuses to go away but grows and grows until it’s impossible to ignore it?

I have those all the time.

Elliot Granger and The Clueless Brigade was definitely one of those ideas. I was knee deep in rewriting Not Without Sunshine, and I kept picturing a teenage girl with turquoise hair and a picture taking habit. Elliot started as a series of blog posts, then turned into a weekly fictional podcast. It gave me a solid outlet for Elliot and her friends without diving into another novel, because then just wasn’t the time.

As I plan Chapter Seventeen, the whispers that have been trying to get through for over a month are hard to ignore. Elliot and her world started as a passion project, but now it’s something more.

The deeper into the story I get, the more it becomes obvious to me that Elliot Granger and her clueless brigade need to be in a book and get proper manuscript treatment and devotion. The weekly installments will come to an end, but Elliot and her upside world will return better than ever, and in the format it deserves. I will keep you updated with her new home, and on release dates as I know more.

The podcast will be available until August 31st.

It’s sometimes hard to make these decisions, at least it is for me. But I’m excited about Elliot’s future.

 

Chapter Sixteen: Wandering The Unfamiliar

Listen to Chapter 16 on iTunes  and Google Play!

promo ch 16.jpgWe stepped into a tile floored hallway that broke away into a large open living room and kitchen that looks nice enough for Taylor Swift to use. The walls were white and lined with stainless-steel counters. The house was decorated with simple modern furniture. Not a single picture hung on the white and yellow walls. It was hard to ignore that every piece of furniture matched as it were taken from a showroom as is.
“We are sitting ducks,” Malachi groaned dropping his bag next to his feet. “We need a plan B.”
“Why is that?” I crossed my arms tightly around myself as I took in the inside of a house I would normally only drive by. Pete trotted up the stairs with his guitar case hanging loosely off his shoulder. He felt like a million miles away.
“I’m in love,” Molly cooed. Her large green eyes glistened as she looked at the shit we just stepped in. The pink streaks in her hair glowed under the bright lights hanging from the high ceilings.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Malachi said, his eyes set only on Lincoln, who did seem at all impressed by the house. “I was expecting a shoe box with roaches.
Lincoln shrugged, “They are good speakers,” as he finished his sentence his lips curled into a smirk.
“I’m sure,” Malachi tossed his hand to the side dismissing Lincoln, “Where is my room?”
“Rooms are upstairs, and they are all huge,” Pete’s voice traveled down from an open loft overhead.
“Well, I guess I’m heading upstairs,” Malachi walked toward the wooden staircase keeping his eyes on Molly. Concern etched into every inch of his tired face.
Molly’s smile was suddenly gone. The spark disappeared from her eyes. She rubbed her stomach with a frown.
“You okay?” I asked her as I hitched my bag up on my shoulder.
“I just need some water,” Molly whined, walking toward the kitchen.
“Let’s not do this tonight,” Malachi’s voice tightened but clearly from concern and not frustration.
“You can do whatever you want.” Molly’s voice was indifferent, which wasn’t a tone from her I’d heard yet.
Malachi pushed out a massive sigh giving me the feeling there something I wasn’t catching, some hidden line of communication I wasn’t privy to. Malachi hissed a “Whatever,” as he climbed the stairs.
Suddenly I was the only one still standing in the foyer. I was in another world. Malachi was right, as nice as the house was, an ominous feeling hung in the air. A hole in my stomach was growing and filling with doubt. I was completely uncomfortable and restless in my own skin at that moment. Without a better idea as to what to do, I also meandered up the stairs.
Lincoln sat on a twin bed in the first room off the hallway. He was taking stacks of comics out of his green messenger back. As he grabbed a bunch of Spiderman, his eyes found me like he knew I was looking at him the whole time. His dark hair fell in front of his eyes. It seemed that every time it did that my heart melted into a pathetic puddle. As usual, I had no idea what he was thinking.
“You worried like Malachi?” His voice revealed more self-doubt then I’ve ever caught before. Lincoln is so mysterious about everything it comes across as confidence but in reality it really wasn’t.
“I guess a little.” I stepped into the room.
“Don’t you trust me?”
“I don’t really know you,” I smiled nervously. My words had come out colder than I intended but the truth I suppose often does. I added, “I definitely don’t this Rex guy.”
“I get it,” he mumbled.
I was frustrated that he wasn’t saying more. I wanted him to make me feel better somehow, assure me that I hadn’t just made a terrible mistake. But, he couldn’t because he didn’t know much more than I did. I realized that he was possibly even more lost than I was.
“Did I hurt your feelings, because I didn’t mean to.” I let my crossed arms flop helplessly to my sides. “I’m just…overwhelmed, I guess.”
“Me too,” Lincoln patted the spot next to him on the bed, and my heart twisted to its side.
The moment I sat down next to him I picked up an issue of Spiderman, nervous of the sudden tension screaming between us. I was in fact in over of my head. “I haven’t read this one yet.”
“What about Spiderman do you like so much, you hardly touch the other comics.”
“I like that’s he an underdog.”
“You like underdogs?”
“I am an underdog,” I glanced up from a panel solely focused on the web, to find his dark eyes on me.
I made a weird noise and looked back at the page.
“I make you nervous.”
“That’s an understatement,” I mumbled into my sleeve.
He laughed.
“Do I make you nervous?” I squeaked the words out like an award mouse.
“Nope,” he said leaning in. He pressed his lips hard against mine. I swear I could feel all his panic and self-doubt through that kiss. His hungry desperation wasn’t for me; it was for general escape.
Was that all this was?
The cruel thoughts whirled around in my head.
The distant, frantic strum of Pete’s guitar cut our very intense moment with a hint of gravity, at least for me. I pulled back, but his hand found my hair and pulled me back into him. My heart raced as uneasiness sunk into my knees.
Lincoln’s hands were everywhere. My chest was about to implode. Without any thought, I stood up. Flashes of something I didn’t want to think about found an entry into my mind.
“What’s up?” Lincoln frowned, his voice ragged and out of breath.
“We aren’t gonna do it tonight. We are still getting to know each other.”
“Can’t we do that better if we are sharing a room?” Lincoln grabbed my hand attempting to pull me closer.
“I’m gonna be in my own room,” I smiled a little annoyed with his attitude. Just because he found us, a place didn’t mean we were gonna shack up, did it?
“Is it cuz good boy Pete is here?” Lincoln’s face transformed into one continuous frown, his eyes even seemed a shade or two darker.
“No, it’s because I’m not ready to move fast. Everything feels like it’s moving too fast.”
“Whatever,” Lincoln’s voice was very curt. He turned to an issue of Captin America, “See ya in the morning,” he mumbled.
I was confused and stood there for a minute unclear how things got so weird so fast. The distance from my mom scared me. Her smile and guidance felt lightyears away. I was looking for an escape, but now I didn’t recognize anything.
I backed out of the room. At first, I just stood in the hallway for a moment unsure of what to do. I rubbed my hands on my thighs trying to hear my mom’s voice. Brain poured into my head. Was he okay? I was hit with a powerful desire to find a corner, curl up, and cry. My world was spinning out of control. In a house full of people I felt completely alone. Was it too late to fix everything?
The sound of puking came from a crack in a mostly closed door. I glanced in without really intending to as I made my way down the oversized and strange hallway. Even the doorknobs looked like they cost a fortune. Molly hurtled over the toilet with fingers stuck down her throat. It hit me what the secret dialogue between her and Malachi meant—all the comments he made in the car made sense. I didn’t know what to do, so I just kept walking even though that it didn’t feel like the right thing. Instead, I followed the sound of Pete’s guitar.
I came to a large room at the end of the hallway. Of course, Pete would grab the master suite first. He sat perched on the window sill. His whole body curled around the guitar making it seem like they were one. His crystal blue eyes drawn to the cords as his fingers plucked each one.
He looked up startled to see me. He stopped playing as a sweet smile formed on his dimpled face. “Done with lover boy already?”
I crossed my arms and looked down at my feet.
“Trouble already?” Pete leaned his sticker-covered acoustic against the wall.
“I want to take things slower than lightning speed.” I knew that sentence was all I needed. After all, Pete knew everything about me.
His eyes grew dim. He stood up and walked over to me. Pete folded me in a giant bear hug, “You might want to tell him about that night. Ya know, if you are serious about that clown,” Pete mumbled the words into my head. I heard them, but at the moment all I wanted was to be there in his arms because it’s the closest I felt to home in a while.

Balls to the wall.

I’m kinda kicking ass. Which is strange because if I were to have written this earlier in the day I would have probably told you nothing was going right. I was sleepy and low energy all day. A typical human reaction to working too late the night before…and apparently I’m doing it again.

Oh well.

Tinkering with the tone in the wizard story I’m working on while listening to Coldplay most of the night has been a delight. I’m going over each line and strengthening where I need to. This story has definitely turned out slightly different than my initial thought, but the characters naturally went this way, so instead of fighting, I leaned into it.

Let’s not forget this writing thing should be fun. It’s never fun beating your head against an artificial wall.

I recorded a fun talk with Kendall Ashley earlier today. We talked about the articles she writes for Geek & Sundry and Nerdist, zombies ( of course), and shows we love. That episode will air on August 4th.

Update: Starting the last week in July Too Many Words goes from Mondays and Thursdays to just Thursday for right now. Unfortuenly I haven’t yet figured out how to clone myself or have developed any device that added hours to the day. (Which, I feel like someone should.) I have my hands in all sorts of exciting new writing projects, opportunities I wanted to be sure to grab. This meant that I needed to rearrange my schedule, which was making me nervous but a theme I keep going back to is, adjusting isn’t something to fear, it’s just life.

That’s a good note to leave off on, I think.

Till tomorrow night

-J