Tag: writer

Cover Art for The Trickster’s Lament

It’s my pleasure and privilege to reveal to you the title and cover of my soon to be published second book, The Trickster’s Lament.

Per the synopsis:

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.

He may be disrespected. He may be kicked about. He may even be falling out with his pantheon. But Hermes is a trickster. He knows how to play dirty in a world that doesn’t play fair. But though he can best man, beast, and god, he isn’t prepared for his wiliest opponent yet: his own conscience.”

Look forward to The Trickster’s Lament release on Amazon.com later this month!

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

What Writing My Second Book Has Taught Me

I’ve heard that writing your second book is harder than writing the first. Your first book may be a hit, but it may also be a fluke, a one and done deal. But moving on to the second? Ah, that’s when you find out if you really have the chops to be a writer.

Well, crafting my second book has gone mostly smoothly. The story came together much more easily, I’ve gained a better understanding of the characters and their motivations and personalities, and it’s been a fun ride. Heck, I got it finished in much less time than the first: about a year and a half from beginning to final draft. But I also made mistakes that I didn’t with my first project.

Now, why is that? Why did I order a paperback cover when I didn’t have my final page count ready? Why did I make silly oversights in editing that I only noticed after sending the book in for formatting?

The only answer I have thus far is that I was rushing. I jumped the gun, I got a little too lax, I was so fixed on the end goal that I didn’t pay attention to all the hurdles. I was impatient, and I didn’t even realize it.

Fortunately, I spotted these errors in time and fixed them. Lesson learned.

I thought I’d share my insights here for any other budding authors to read. Impatience is a bane of writers. Maybe you have just the one novel to write in your lifetime. You’ve spent years on it and are eager to finally see it published. Or maybe you have a series in mind, a long-running story told over several books, and you’re ready to move on to the next leg in the journey.

Either way, the temptation to push through and stop paying attention to details is strong. Resist it! A good novel takes time. You have plenty of it to perfect your story, and the copyright page, and the title, and the word count, and so forth. Don’t publish until you know that your book is exactly the way you want it.

Sweat the details. It saves so much trouble in the long run if you do.

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Into the New Year

What is there to say at the beginning of a new year? Resolutions, promises, hopes, plans? Yes, all of these and more. But most of all, there’s the joy of simply looking over the calendar and seeing all those days spread out before you.

I have a tendency to rush through things, to complete projects for the sake of completion. January 1st is a good day to consider that this isn’t as important as taking time to enjoy each season. Maybe that’s a bit trite, a bit cliche, but there’s truth in it. A year isn’t a long time in the grand scheme of things. Best to appreciate each day, both the happy surprises and the obnoxious challenges, because they don’t come around again.

Whether I’m gritting my teeth or smiling happily, each day is a gift and a privilege. Best not to rush through any of them.

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

When I Was Born …

… the world changed forever.

The Berlin Wall came down. I’m fairly certain this was a direct consequence of my birth.

The original Michael Keaton Batman movie opened in theaters. Also a direct consequence of my existence, no doubt.

Disney’s The Little Mermaid also opened in theaters. I claim direct responsibility for the Disney Renaissance, thank you.

The first commercial internet service providers became available. Because of me, of course.

Can you guess what year I was born?

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life. With a dash of dry humor.

Writers, Don’t Go It Alone

Writing is by and large a solitary activity. It isn’t something generally done in a group save for perhaps writing jams and community workshops. However, when writing your novel, short story, poetry, or any other project, you’re probably going to spend the lion’s share of your time by yourself, with only your ideas and thoughts to keep you company on the journey.

However, writing is not an isolated activity, as I have discovered. While writing a novel draft may be done in private, what comes afterward needs other people: submitting drafts to beta readers, finding editors to review your work, maybe even sharing passages with a local writers’ group. Why? Well, partly because we all need a few extra pairs of eyes to see the good and bad in our work that we can’t see ourselves. But we also need a smidgeon of encouragement from time to time.

I don’t say this out of selfishness or self-pity. All writers must build confidence in their work if they intend to publish. But let’s face facts. We all feel discouraged at some point or another. Perhaps we’ve hit writer’s block or we look back on our recent work and want to gag. Or maybe, even though everything is going swimmingly and we’re hitting all our deadlines, we still can’t shake off the inexplicable doldrums we’re feeling. And we need someone to talk to, someone we can trust and confide in.

As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, writers are not cut off from the world. We need other people, and we need encouragement. Being left alone with only our own thoughts to keep us company – well, I don’t know about you, but as a writer I tend to be a very harsh critic of my own work, always asking if it’s really any good.

Writing can become a lonely journey. Find someone, or a couple someones, willing to stick with you through it all, give honest feedback, be supportive, and most of all, be a friend. Writers shouldn’t live in a vacuum. It’s not healthy (or even really possible), and after all, half the fun of writing is to see people’s reactions to the things we create.

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Exactly Where I Want to Live

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

I would live in a comfortable cabin in the middle of a sparse but lush forest with no neighbors within shouting distance and located exactly one hour away from the nearest town. I would also have electricity and a hot tub.

Those who read my musings on my city of the future may be aware that when a daily prompt asks me what I want, I go whole hog with exactly what I want. Will I ever get it? Probably not, but my imagination doesn’t have to agree with reality. I want a cozy cabin, I want peace and quiet, and I want to huddle up on my couch and watch my big-screen TV while the birds chirp outside. And when I need to go shopping, I want the store to be an hour’s drive away.

Fantasizing about an idyllic, Arcadian existence is all fun and dandy, but actually living it is a different case entirely. Loafing around on a tropical island is fine until you need to take a shower and have no soap and shampoo. Or towels and washcloths. Or plumbing. Not to mention the bugs and the heat and the storms. Yes, I admit it, I like modern amenities as much as I like nature. So, I would live close to nature, but not too close, thank you very much.

Civilization strove for millennia to invent the modern conveniences we currently enjoy, and some of them were invented for very good reason. Who am I to throw aside all that hard work?

Okay, maybe I could go without the hot tub …

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Do I Need Time?

Do you need time?

Asking whether I need time isn’t a question I can easily answer. Do I want time? Yes, I want time. To stop it in its tracks for as long as I desire and do all the things I want to do in life … that would be wonderful. But I can’t. Because we all only have a set amount of time, and we can’t get any more, regardless of whether we need it.

Maybe what can be said, then, is that we have enough time if we don’t spend it on frivolous, short-term trifles that don’t make a difference in the grand scheme of things. We are given the time we have. It’s clocked in at birth and clocks out at death. I don’t need time, but rather, maybe I should think harder on how to use the bundle of time I still have.

So, I guess what I’m saying is, no, I don’t need time. I need wisdom to use time rightly. Not an easy thing to live up to.

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Kid at Heart

What does it mean to be a kid at heart?

Probably not screaming when you don’t get dessert and walking into the house with mud covering your shoes.

“Kid at heart” is one of those curious expressions we use and don’t give much thought to. There’s a general consensus that everyone knows what it means, but do we really know what it actually means? Kids are selfish, loud, noisy, sometimes smelly, and generally very expensive. They are also seen as innocent, full of potential, and the future of civilization. Which may or may not be true (especially that part about innocence).

So, what does it mean to be a “kid at heart?” Perhaps it simply means to not let go of youthful vigor and enthusiasm. To not be jaded, as kids so rarely are, and to see the world as something fresh and new every day, as kids so often do. Kids are as flawed as adults, so I don’t think we should see childhood as a perfect little utopia long lost, but rather as a time when we were willing to have a little more joy in our lives and a little more willingness to learn.

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Quotes Courtesy of Charles Dickens

In honor of of one of the greatest writers of our, and any time, here are some choice quotes from the works of Charles Dickens. Some advice, some funny observations, maybe even a little wisdom.

The most important thing in life is to stop saying, ‘I wish’ and start saying, ‘I will’. Consider nothing impossible, then treat possibilities as probabilities.”

David Copperfield

“There are books of which the backs and covers are by far the best parts.”

Oliver Twist

“Trifles make the sum of life.”

Great Expectations

“There are very few moments in a man’s existence when he experiences so much ludicrous distress, or meets with so little charitable commiseration, as when he is in pursuit of his own hat.”

The Pickwick Papers

 “Love, though said to be afflicted with blindness, is a vigilant watchman.”

Our Mutual Friend

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

The Trickster’s Lament preview #2

Another glimpse of my novel-in-progress.

Don’t you just hate it when a plan falls apart? A simple museum heist has gone completely off the rails for Hermes. The trickster god better think fast.

—

I didn’t wait for more gunfire and sprinted out of their line of sight into a nearby gift shop. I vaulted the cashier’s desk and winded through the shelves of merchandise. As I did so, I felt a sudden and intense accumulation of magic behind me, a growing pressure that was followed by a violent rush of wind. The sensation swiftly changed from that of a strong gust to the feeling of barbed-wire digging into me. I dropped to the floor.

The clamor of the spell demolished the shop. Books, toys, mugs, and pens were caught up and eviscerated by a wind storm condensed into a narrow room-wide blade of fast-moving air. Metal shrieked as the spell sliced apart shelving. It traveled to the end of the room before it dissipated, leaving a deep gash in the wall.

Wind magic is hard. Controlling it with any degree of precision, let alone focusing it into a cutting edge, is notorious among mages for its difficulty. Most would-be practitioners either give up or lose limbs. These mercenaries were no amateurs. They also obviously had no interest in witnesses.

After the spell ran its course, I pushed myself to my feet and leapt up and over the pile of shredded debris. My foot caught on a piece of ripped cardboard, and I tripped. Four pops of a gun sounded behind me. One of the bullets caught me in the shin. As I regained my footing, centuries of discipline helped me to force the shock of pain to the fringes of my awareness. Another bullet did the proverbial whistle past my ear and kicked up a bit of plaster a few feet away.

Exiting the shop, I reached the second-floor rotunda overlooking the lobby. Speed was essential, so, without stopping, I rolled forward, defying the pain in my leg. I shapeshifted as I came out of the roll, landing as a tortoise whose inertia and smooth underside skidded me along the tile floor like a misshapen hockey puck. Shots aimed at human head height whizzed over me.

I came to a rest and peeked out of my shell. Three men exited the gift shop and proceeded cautiously, two of them with guns raised. Before they could spot me, I changed into a fly and circled behind them. Strong hands swiftly grabbed the pair of gunmen by the napes of their neck and slammed their heads together.

The mage spun around at the sound of my attack. He was dressed like the others – black body armor and balaclava, night vision goggles – but he carried no gun except a sidearm at his hip. His hands were stretched out with palms forward. He was furiously chanting to focus his magic. Not fast enough.

I swung one of the unconscious mercs into a wide arc. At the apex of the throw, I let go. The merc flew gracelessly into the mage. The man saw it and nimbly hopped aside, dodging entirely.

But I followed through the toss and kept spinning. I gripped the second merc with both hands and hurled him as hard as I could. It was a beautiful hit. Both bodies were lifted off the floor and traveled a perfectly horizontal trajectory into a wall.

With luck and medical attention, they would keep all their ribs intact.

More footsteps echoed in the museum’s open space. This was becoming annoying. I didn’t have the inclination to play soldier, and I was running out of time. I had to find Bast. She was still somewhere in the museum, and she had my prize in her hands. Catching up with her was my one and only priority. These thugs were a distraction, at best.

I gritted my teeth. She had better still be here.

—

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.