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.
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Contrary to what one might think, it isn’t PURITY fan art, but CHANGELING, unpublished and collecting dust on my hard drive while I write its threequel, I swear.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 (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 His as of yet unpublished book is hysterical, and Bethany is seriously talented.
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.
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?
And now, an update on the many projects I’m working on!
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, 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 →
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—
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?