The Time Between (The Sheets) – A Fan Fic

Hellooooo. Long time no see, eh?

My darling friend CB Archer got the idea to write a fanfic short story about two of my characters from CHANGELING, a story of mine that he beta read wait, idea? no no i told him i wanted to know what would happen if…

So he did!

Linked here is the post on his website. But be warned – he writes wonderfully filthy erotica, and you have any sort of aversion to same sex freakiness, maybe don’t go read it. Or do. But don’t bitch to either of us if you’re offended.

Enjoy!

I know I did 😀

The Time Between (The Sheets) – A Fan Fic

Fanart? Yes.

To quote my pal CB Archer on his post about fan art:

Contrary to popular belief, no one ever writes books, makes movies, or becomes a musician for fame, power, or money. They all do it for one thing and one thing only:
Fan Art.

I got my first fan art recently and by recently I mean a few months ago but I’m a mook and totally forgot to upload it and gush like another sort of mook.

Contrary to what one might think, it isn’t PURITY fan art, but CHANGELING, unpublished and collecting dust on my hard drive while I write its threequel, I swear. CB himself actually made this art – based on one of the early scenes of CHANGELING in which main character Aisling and her band of merry soldiers gets entangled with bandits bent on assault and robbery.

Aisling and Leir
Aisling and Leir

Bandits Beware!

Aisling (orange) is a pyrophoric mage – meaning she has the innate power to produce and control fire. Leir (blue) is cryonic – meaning she is basically Elsa and can control ice and snow the cold never bothered her anyway.

Tying into this, actually… I was recently writing USURPER, Changeling’s threequel, and I wrote myself into a corner in which I needed lyrics to a ballad. Being completely nonpoetic myself, I commissioned by friend Bethany, a songwriter and poet, to come up with a few lines for me. Inspired by the idea of writing a lament and also the lure of Mars bars Bethany jumped aboard with gusto and wrote not just a few lines, but an entire song – and then decided she wanted to write lyrics to a heroic ballad I had referenced elsewhere in the same chapter.

So, without further ado, one stanza of Winter Song, written by Bethany Sanjenko for USURPER.

When the winter winds came, he put on his boots
He opened the door and tightened his noose
Now he lays in a grave, shallow and cold
No one to have and no one to hold

I’m hella pumped on all this. And according to CB Archer, now I have succeeded!

Also, you should go check out his page and Bethany’s Soundcloud, both linked. His as of yet unpublished book is hysterical, and Bethany is seriously talented.

WordPress classic. Yes.

I see WordPress has a new way of publishing posts.

I don’t like it one bit, and I, for one, am glad they keep this old version available for us. Hopefully it’s permanent.

In any case, here’s just a basic update on everything going on in casa de Marshman and Albert, I guess, since I live with James now:

  • I’m now assistant manager at the bookstore where I work. This literally only means I went from knowing what I was doing every single day (magazine and magazine-related work) to doing whatever Lexi (the boss) doesn’t feel like doing at any given time. I am a glorified minion. That being said, having worked there for four and a half years, I’m pretty excited about any kind of say in how the store runs.
  • I’m living with James that’s not news
  • We’re going to get a cat that is news
  • Abomination, the sequel to my magnum opus, Changeling, is nearly finished and currently clocking in just under 250 000 words.
  • I read Written In My Own Heart’s Blood, the eighth Outlander book by Diana Gabaldon, and wept and laughed and can’t wait another five years for the next book.
  • Also, the tv show makes me fangirl super hard.
  • I binge-played Dragon Age: Origins and married Alistair that… may or may not be news

Also, Halloween is coming and I’ve got a very exciting costume planned that plays off my Doctor Who addiction. Stay tuned.

And in the meantime, between my infrequent relevant posts, continue to enjoy the flash fiction I’m posting on a sometimes weekly basis. By the way, those come from random prompts at the writing group I go to. I go to a writing group now. Writing groups are cool.

Until next time!

Blog hop!

Apparently there is a thing called a blog hop, and I have been tagged in it, by the illustrious Elisa Nuckle. I’ve been given four questions to answer about my writing process, so here we go!

And bear with me, because I’m on my phone app and there’s only so much I can do

What am I working on?

I’m currently, because my computer is fried, working on editing by hand Changeling, my magnum opus. This will be round two of edits, then she’ll be doing her rounds of beta readers before the next round of edits. I’m also bringing together the climax of her sequel, Abomination, though that is more difficult now, as it too must be by hand. sigh.

How does my work differ from others from its genre?

Well, it’s unique in that it’s written by me!

ha ha
Continue reading

Updates on the projects

Abomination Changeling comparison

And now, an update on the many projects I’m working on!

Changeling

Now, Changeling has been finished for a long time now, and I’ve already gone through and edited it once. But I’ve just sent out copies to beta readers, so the second round of edits will be starting shortly. I’m also in the process of organizing a photo shoot with an old friend and photographer, and my friend and beta reader Lexi, to start creating a cover for it, so she can be sold online!

Abomination

Abomination, as can be seen from the above picture, has surpassed Changeling, its predecessor, in word count. I always had a hunch this would happen, and now it finally has! I’m actually very excited about this, because it means that ‘Bominatino is getting close to the climax. Plots are being brought together now, and others are being opened for the next in the series, thus far titled Usurper. Though I have had Lexi beta reading ‘Bominatino since I started, I will be going through a round of edits fairly soon, and will need more readers once I begin.

“After the tremors began to shake buildings from their foundations, the sky split and the mountain burst.

“Black snow belched from the crater atop the mountain and covered the city in dust. Molten fire and rock came next, and melted everything in its path. We could do nothing but watch the city burn, watch as the river of fire came closer and closer and finally consumed all.

“For countless aeons after I swam in empty blackness, unable to move or speak or do anything but listen to the final cries of my people as they drowned in ash and flame. Until the day you came along, magus,” Mirek Ko’shul, the King of Ghosts, murmured, and his dark eyes fell on Leto, “and the power you carry in your soul, so like my own, woke the curse in all of us.”

The quote above is a story told to the main characters by a ghost of a long dead king, explaining the final days of his people. This is a vital point for them, to solving the mysteries that have plagued them for so long. Continue reading

The Fall: Changeling teaser

My spirit suddenly trembled, and for just a moment I thought my hold on the owl body would break. Nearby, the harpy eagle body that was Eleri let out a mournful wail that even the wind could not swallow. Though the dragon below me did not falter, I knew Mama had felt it as well; her sprit shivered loud enough for me to hear it, to feel it within myself.

I recovered, head spinning. What was that?

The dragon screamed, and Mama answered, I don’t know. Stay close to Eleri, just in—

Then it came again, before she had a chance to finish.

The pain struck first.

It was pain that I could never have imagined—pain that stabbed my heart and burned my bones. My vision blackened; I no longer felt the glacial wind ruffling through my feathers.

And then it happened.

With as much warning as a hiccup in time, I was thrown from my false body.

For just a moment, we were suspended in time, and I could see everything with such perfect clarity.

Eleri had been pushed back into her body; her long hair streamed behind her as she fell like the licking tendrils of a fire’s shadow. Mama still wore her dragon skin, but her wings had gone limp; Morwenna was little more than a blotch of polished copper amidst bronze scales and a flat grey sky.

In the moment before time resumed, the whole world was quiet, and realization slowly crushed me—

I was trying to fly on clipped wings. Continue reading

The conundrum of being a writer

WRITER’S BLOCK.

There. I said it. And what a phrase it is.

Two simple words shouldn’t be so terrifying. But they are. They really are.

Whenever I want to sit down and write, I’m at a place where I can’t – namely, at work. And vice versa: whenever I have time to sit down and write, I’m unable to do much more than gawk at my computer screen or get wholly distracted by imgur or the newfangled television James set up in my bedroom. Even as I write this post, I’m getting distracted by the Tudors.

Like, three days distracted. I’m sick.

But the thing is, distraction is the only cure. If you sit there and stare at the cursor, waiting for something to happen and damning your brain for suddenly being a sack of shit, nothing will ever come to you. Distraction is the only means.

My best time for inspiration is Tuesdays and Wednesdays at work. Why, you might ask? Well, I might answer, because that is the day the LMPI – import – magazines arrive at the store, and the day I do nothing but sit in the back and price and receive. It’s monotonous and distracting, and because of it my house is littered with handwritten notes for full write-up at a later date.

I’m weathering a bit of a slump right now. It isn’t terrible, and I am powering through it, but it’s a challenge. After not touching ABOMINATION for a while and only working on OF THE ARBOUR, I’ve pretty much switched places, only I’m trudging on the former and now flying through it as I did with OF THE ARBOUR.

Ah, the life of a writer is a troubled one.

What does everyone else do to power through writer’s block?

Updates, because I suck

I’ve been really bad at keeping this updated in recent weeks – hell, in recent months, even. My real life has been crazy, and trying to keep up with it is a battle. So here are some idle updates, and I promise I’ll do more teasers or something soon. Maybe a book giveaway. Been pondering that one for some time.

The Of the Arbour rewrite is at ~45 000 words. Sage has left the Arbour and is starting is life as a mercenary, and pretends to be Sage of Courton so nobody knows he’s from the Arbour.

Abomination is at ~150 000 words. I’ve been a bit nonfunctional with her lately because, I think, I’ve been so caught up in OtArb. But otherwise, she’s progressing nicely.

I’m dragging my ass and haven’t processed my ISBNs yet, even though I was assigned some. Working on it.

I’ve passed the point of season 3 in a Storm of Swords. I’ve learned to bear GRRM’s writing style, as I found it terribly grating when I first started reading the books. I can’t imagine I’ll ever do reviews of these, because I’m biased by the show, but eh, never say never.

So I guess that’s that. Woo.

Knowing when you’ve made it as an author

It isn’t when you start making an actual profit on your books, or even your own satisfaction with your writing and your plot.

You know when you’ve made it as an author when a reader feels genuine emotion for your story.

It has to be for your story and characters, too – emotion felt for their plight, because they’re unhappy with a character’s behaviour or thrilled when something finally goes their way. When I feel intense hatred reading Twilight, that isn’t a compliment to Meyer’s work at all – it’s the exact opposite, because I have no respect or enjoyment from the way she writes or her listless characters.

You have made it as an author when a reader weeps over the death of a favourite minor character. When a reader forgets to eat or sleep because they have to know what the hero will do next.

I have experienced this kind of thrill and joy as an author several times, but several rather notable times in the past.

I got my friend Bethany to read Of the Arbour and its sequel, Of the Arena, when I was first writing them. As she was in the midst of the sequel, I accidentally let it slip that one of the minor characters dies. This minor character happened to be her favourite. She was so upset with me she had to put the story down and hasn’t touched it since which actually works out okay since I’m rewriting it anyways.

More recently, my friend Lexi started reading Changeling. When she finished, I printed off a short story collection, The Time Between, that takes place between Changeling and its sequel, Abomination. She was so upset with the behaviour of one of the main characters, one usually charming and endearing who turned into a bit of a brute, that she almost phoned me to chew me out. Rather than do that, she stifled her rage until we met up at work the next day.

This very day, too, she read a defining chapter in Abomination that upset her. I hadn’t planned this chapter – I don’t really plan anything except major plot points though I guess this counts as one, technically, and the characters just sort of started acting this sequence out. It is a rather heartbreaking chapter, I’ll admit – and I even hesitated to put it in the book in the first place. But I decided that keeping it would allow for a sweeter, happier ending, so it remained.

Lexi read the chapter on her break today. I was putting out magazines when she finished. She found me, crouched down, picked up an ad slip that fell out of a magazine, crumpled it up, and threw it at me.

Don’t get me wrong – there is more to my stories than sadness. The happy stuff gets them too, but the things that upset readers seem to really stick out to me. I’m terribly attached to my characters, and I love it when others are, as well.

Despite the fact that both Bethany and Lexi were upset with me, I feel like I’ve accomplished something great, here. They were both so attached to the characters that when they did something decidedly out of character – or died – it genuinely touched them.

To me, that feeling is more important than any amount of money I might make.

Arranged Love: Changeling teaser

“He loves her, doesn’t he?”

Alistair sighed and cracked open one eye. “Just when I was about to fall asleep, too,” he mumbled, and rolled onto his side. By the light of the fire across the room, he could see Aisling staring up at the ceiling. The firelight cast shadows across her face, illuminating her frown and scowl. “What are you babbling about?” he asked, squinting at her as he rubbed his face.

“Lord Hession.”

“Please, just call him Sonny. He only stopped cringing at his title a few years ago, and I don’t want him to revert back to it.”

“Trained him like a dog, did you?”

“Can’t do less with Cantons.”

“No, I suppose not.” She brushed her hair off her face and rolled to face him. “Sonny. He loves his wife?” Continue reading