Moving

Moving to my own website.

Come on over and check it out. 

Not that there's much stuff on it yet.  :P

Work in progress.  Story of my life 

November Writing Challenge

Oooh!  Also, I've written something for the Labyrinth again.  It's called Forgotten, and sees the return of Santi from Librarian.  

Almost there

In May 2013 I wrote a big chunk of Vert Glace while on holiday.  I think I finished the first draft in June.  Since then, I've fleshed out the world a lot more through writing about other characters in the same world (Sasha for example).  I've also had my dear friends tear my draft apart.  

And now, a year and a half later, it's finally back together again in one document.

All I have left to do is to go back over it and do one more edit pass (at least, that's how I break it down to myself so I don't hulk out and destroy this peaceful seaside town).  

I thought that I would be pleased and excited.  I thought that I would feel accomplished.

But here I am, sweating and insecure like the world's biggest dork.  I'm sure that in the next few weeks I'll be fighting procrastination like Samuel L Jackson fought those snakes on a plane.

Maybe after this last push I'll start to feel more like a phoenix rising out of the flames.

the mushroom is bigger than the steak

Two dodgy vans I've seen

So far, it's just co-incidence.  Let's hope that there's not a third...

Something I wrote half a lifetime ago

So here’s the first paragraph of the first story I ever finished.  Grade 8, woo.  I have underlined all the parts that made me cringe and laugh aloud. 

The alarm clock played an annoyingly cheerful tune.  A hand patted the bedside table, in attempt to find the source of the noise without any success.  A sleepy,  still half asleep head popped up with a groan.  With the help of sight, Toshepsilon was finally able to find the clock and switch off the annoying alarm.  The clock read 6:30 am.  Tosh wondered why his alarm clock was set to go off so early or at all.  It must have been someone that knew that when Tosh woke up, he wouldn’t go to sleep again until bed time.  The only name that popped up was C.J.  Only she could have done such an evil deed.  Still half asleep, Tosh dragged his tired body out of bed.  It was useless to try to fall asleep again now that he was half awake.  After a trip to the toilet and a shower, Tosh was more refreshed, although still a little annoyed at C.J, who was obviously the one who set the clock.  Since it was C.J was obviously the one that set the clock, Tosh decided that C.J probably had something official or important so he put on his uniform.  Then he dried his emerald green hair and tried to tame it.  Tosh’s hair was impossible, it flopped this way and that, sometimes getting in his eyes.  He had given up on gel and it was still too short to tie up.  Tosh put his red cloth band around his forehead as a sign that he had lost something great and dear to him. 

This is how I would write the scene now. 

The alarm clock’s cheerful tune was full of sadistic pleasure.  When the swatting of his groggy hand did not end the torture, Toshepsilon groaned and begrudgingly lifted his head to squint at the illuminated numbers. 

6:30am.

Never in a million years would he have set an alarm for this ungodly hour.  It must have been the work of Commander Jaramiteey.  The commander, known affectionately by her tight knit team as ‘CJ’, never did anything without purpose.  So if she set an early alarm for Tosh, he knew that he’d best get up. 

A shower worked wonders.

So did his uniform. 

The red bandanna wasn't part of the standard issue.  It tamed his grass-green hair, but that wasn't why he wore it.  

Red Moon

Religious nuts had been on the radio all afternoon, saying that it was the end of the world.  The scientist in me scoffed, but a niggly part of me felt excited by the utter conviction in their ranting. 

Dinner was uneventful.  I kept checking the clock, but time wasn’t passing by any faster.  If anything, each time I looked, it seemed to slow down a fraction more just to spite me.  Perhaps the world would end tonight.  Of boredom. 

I didn’t wash the dishes after I inhaled the food off them.  It’s a bad habit I’ve developed lately.  But I usually get them the next day, so I’ll wash them before I go to work.  That is, if the world hasn’t ended by then.

At 7:15pm a shadow fell across the full moon.  It wasn’t red.  It was maybe a little bit brown.  The real eclipse was still a bit over an hour away so I drifted back downstairs to waste some more time on the computer.  The whole affair was a bit anticlimactic so far.  Perhaps the earthquakes and the blood rain and the terrible trumpets of the angels of death would come later.

I got caught up in reading some article about the Great Barrier Reef and almost missed the 8:30 mark.  At 8:32pm I raced back up stairs.  For a moment, there was nothing in the sky.  Then the clouds must have parted, or the Earth must have shifted a fraction, for there it was.

I slid the glass aside and stepped out onto the balcony.  The red moon looked like a bit of loose flesh in the sky.  The sight was both grand and disappointing, like finding out that the Easter Bunny doesn’t exist but you can still eat chocolate eggs every year at Easter.  In that moment, I felt completely affirmed.  ‘The world is everything and that is the case.’

The Earth shifted again, and the red glowed brighter.  As the soft rays of light fell upon me, I felt myself change.  Anger.  Lust.  Madness.  The sky upended itself, tipping power through me like a waterfall through a straw.  It washed away my twenty-something years of history and replaced it with a raw and timeless need. 

My last coherent thought was that they were right.  Damn it, those fanatics had been right all along.  The world would end, and it would be my doing. 

Mascot potplant

My partner said I should give it a name.  So I called it...

SQUALT CHOMONDELEY

so now me and Squalt hang out like super bros while I work.

About the day that I had...

Yes, I am still writing.

Yes, I have managed to contract yet another viral illness, this time from a real estate agent who I will not be buying a house from.

Yes, I am still plodding along with my six day work week.

Yes, yes, I am still insane in the membrane.



Something cool happened today.  After organizing for cleaners to pick up my keys at work, I skipped along in the happy knowledge that I had handed off one of my least favourite chores...

...only to be told that the room I would be facilitating my group in the dirtiest room of the building.  Now, I'm pretty chillaxed with grubbiness.  I wash my hands after I toilet, like any other decent human being, but I've always said that mess is a sign of activity.

But even I balked at this room.  So there I was, sweating in my snazzy work shirt as I vacuumed the floor and sprayed down the tables.  I have a bad back, so I can already hear my partner chiding me for doing this.

It was all worth it, of course, because then I got to have these amazing conversations with people.

We talked about how pain in life is inevitable, and why people suffer.

We spoke about politics and sports and chickens.

We ate chocolate and basked in poignant silences.

This made me realize (though, I've always known it, I suppose) that I will do whatever it takes to create meaningful experiences for my clients.  Even if I have to spend ten minutes picking up wrappers of the floor.  Even if I have to deviate from the textbook and all the material I've prepared.  Whatever it takes, it's important for people to feel like actual people, like actual human beings.  Not just a number, a box on a checklist, or some success story that gets circulated around the company so we can all pat ourselves on the back or whatever.

To be respected.  To be heard.  To speak.  To listen.  To accept that others are different, and that they have different opinions, and you don't have to agree, but that's ok.  To make plans.  To strive for something in an imperfect, random world.  To feel without shame.

Yeah, thinking back, it was a great day.

Anime in October

Imagine my excitement when I heard that the dude who wrote the Full Metal Panic series has another light novel that's being made into an anime!

I don't know much about Amagi Brilliant Park, but from the trailers, it looks off-the-walls crazy, which is great.  

I could read it and find out more...

...

...

...

But that might ruin the anime for me.  I don't want to be one of those hipsters who get to the end of he episode, sigh, and say, "the book was so much better than the movie."

August entry

Whoever said that stories are never finished, they're just abandoned, well...

I have abandoned The End of a Stormy Night on fictionpress, and I'm not looking at it again!  ...until at least tomorrow.  I know it needs to be edited more and what not.  It's odd dabbling in a genre that you know nothing about.  That's not to say that I write flawlessly in any genre, but gothic has never been on my to-do list.  But pride's a funny thing.  It would have become a broody angry thing if I hadn't written something for the August writing contest.  I'm not expecting to win this time round, but I'm not going home until someone hands me an 'I Participate in a Race!' ribbon.  

I actually forgot to mention that I saw Guardians of the Galaxy a while back.  For future reference, if any movie adaptions of mainstream comic books come out, especially DC (which I know Guardians isn't...), just assume I've seen it.  I mention this movie in particular because I'm listening to all the 70's songs on it's soundtrack right now.  :)  It's the first time I've actually listen listened to the Pina Colada song.  Scandalous.

Richer and cleverer than everyone else

I just realized that I get most of my reading/writing done when I'm sick or injured.  This time, it's sickness.  I don't know what that says about me.  I'm sitting here at 8pm at night, wrapped in a blanket like a granny and falling asleep.  I often wonder if this is what old age feels like.  I must be old.  I feel old.

Enough.  I'm not here to talk about how old I am.  I'm here to tell you about the bookbone I have for The Gentleman Bastard Sequence by Scott Lynch. Scott's world is an amazing word wizard who has build an amazing word world.  The cities, the religions, the calendar, the food (the everything)...  all this is fed to you with the most delicious words.  Oh, and the insults.  Who could forget about all the awesome insults? The books are worth it for the education in new and exciting ways to insult people.  The story is told in snippets of the 'present' and the past that intertwine in ways that are nostalgic and meaningful.  The storytelling is very clever.

Here are my thoughts per book:

Book 1:  Gentlemen Bastards are suave as hell
Locke Lamora is a name that just rolls of the tongue, doesn't it?  For the first third of this book, you just get sucked into how smoothly everything is going.  When you think you know what game Locke and his crew are playing... well, you don't know anything!!!!! Then of course, things take hilarious and horrifying turns.

Book 2:  Gentlemen Bastards are Oceans 11  AND Swashbucking Pirates
After reading the first book, I was a bit skeptical about the second, given that it was set on the high seas.  How do city thieves fair against the waves?  Magnificently.  Not only are there plenty of laugh out loud moments, you also somehow manage to pick up some fun language and traditions (much of it fictional) concerning sailing.  I am never setting foot on a boat again without feeling the need to bring a cat with me.  And I don't even like cats.

One thing that is worth noting is that this book treats women pretty well.  When you've read enough fantasy books, you just get use to the absence of women in the backdrop of the world.  Scott's bringing back the ladies, which deserves two thumbs up.

Book 3:  A Plot:  Gentlemen Bastards do Karthain, B Plot: Gentleman Bastards put on a play
If you're not into watching a man trip over again and again and again because of his lady love, fear not, for this book is really two in one (and the second story has much less romance in it than the other part... that is, if you can call it romance and not outright punishment).  It was great to have the twins of the group back in the picture - their departure was greatly mourned.

Book 4 is slated to come out this year.  I can't wait.

4 days till deadline

August contest entry is coming along swimmingly.

Ok, I lie.  But it has those arm floaters on, and it's floating in the kiddy pool.

What I mean to say is that I've made a start.

It's just that when my brain is this confuzzled from the flu (yes, yes, yet another one), I keep getting distracted with 'research' on the internet.  Gothic isn't something I'm overly familiar with, and even though I've crammed a number of trademarkedly 'gothic' elements into the story, it just isn't working that well.  I want to write something that's like The Hound of the Baskervilles.  What I am actually writing is a sad excuse for a fairytale that makes the Brothers Grimm turn in their graves.

The most interesting part of my life at the moment (apart from my beautiful, smart, caring, generous partner, of course...) is reading through the Locke Lamora books.  I'm 3/4 though the third one - Republic of Thieves, and I'm pretty sure the fourth isn't out yet.  There is no sound of appreciation in this world that adequately describes how much I like reading these books and how much Scott Lynch's words are blowing my mind.

...I will hopefully have the gothic contest piece finished by the end of the week.

This is why editing for Wolfie is so much fun

My reliance on Google continues

I've been preaching time management for years, but my own waxes and wanes.  Upon reading some advice from another writer, I've started keeping a bit of a schedule/record of my days.  So basically, I plan  my week in advance, and it's depressing to see that a large chunk of my day - the majority of my waking hours in fact - is spent on work and work related activities (such as traveling to work).  From this, I've discovered that on afternoons when I'm not tutoring students (which technically counts as work too... damn it!), reluctantly catching up on chores, or having religious types talk at me, I have between 1 and 3 hours to write. 

:)

And not a day have I kept to plan, but you know what, just having activities planned makes me more productive.   I would have never remembered to wash and hang up my clothes if I hadn't blocked out time for that on my precious Google calendar.  I wouldn't have finished betaing Val's story.  I wouldn't have worked on Woodsman at all.

So the point is, that while things don't always go to plan, planning has made me more productive.  Funny that.  Hopefully I can sustain it.

In a blink of an eye, it's suddenly the middle of August.  My year goal of having a manuscript ready for querying is not going as planned.  I haven't finished my second draft yet.  Hopefully by the end of September I will have beaten a path of order through the wild forest of chaos.

Potato baby.

One of my friends gave birth yesterday.  Now there is one more human being on this planet.  Horray.  Life is a miracle.  He kinda looks like a potato at the moment.  Miracle potato.

Wow, it's already six days into August.  Time flies when you're sick and exhausted.  :)  I thought I'd do something useful with myself tonight, so  I edited and posted another chapter of Shadechasers.  Not as impressive as... you know... giving birth.  But yeah.

Home is where the plane takes me

I've fixed the zipper to my bag, and I feel like Macgyver.  The trip to the city this month was quite eventful, and my bag is full to bursting, which means that this is the king of bad timing for broken zippers.

And perfect timing for an awesome feat of mind over matter.

Still trying to recover from a lingering malaise that comes along with maybe-a-bacterial-maybe-a-viral-infection.  I'm blogging as I wait for the powers that be to announce that boarding for my flight has begun because staying awake is preferable to sleeping when waiting for a plane.

Red Seas Under Red Skies.

This is the second book in the Locke Lamora/Gentlemen Bastards series.  Needless to say, I did finish the first book.  It was definitely an excellent book, at least a 9/10.  I'm going to finish the other two books that are out in the series, and then I will do my review thing (with the usual caveat in place, that is, if things aren't too devastating at the end.  I'm hoping the main character will have the last laugh, given how brutal the second part of the first book was).

Writing wise, I've been a super slacker.  I've got 2 stories I'm suppose to be betaing, and I'm late to finish writing one.  So not sure if there's going to be any activity on the creative front from me for the next few weeks, except maybe participation in a Labyrinth contest, if Fyloe sets one.  Four days in and it looks like it's going to be a slow month.  :) 

Dreaming of the weekend

Last night I stayed up too late reading book.  It left me absolutely buggered today.  Luckily, no one noticed.

I need a new inspiration poster.  It will feature a picture of two minute noodles.  It will read:  Dinner.  Some nights I just don't want to cook it.

I've now got all the episodes of Natsume Yuujinchou that there ever was.  Who ever thought to make a slice of life anime feature a boy who can see spirits?  Good stuff.

This weekend I am having some peeps come over and we're going to do a weekend of D&D because that's what city friends do when they drive 4 hours to a seaside town known for it's close-encounter whale watching and calm, pristine beaches.  I'm excited, but I wonder if my house is equip to host guests.  I've got enough beds, I think.  But not enough seats.  Don't look too closely - there's no logic there.

I'm also thinking about entering the July Labyrinth Writing Contest.

A New Book

And now I'm reading The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch.  Same rules apply - if not completely depressing,  I shall review!  It's pretty kick-ass so far.

And still, it snows.

I think I've done my back again.  Heatpack for the win.  Man, I'm getting old.

I said something about reviewing the Children of the Black Sun series if I got the the end and it wasn't completely depressing, I'd write about it.  And guess what?  It wasn't depressing (aka not everyone dies).

Winter Be My Shield, the first book, was everything that the shopgirl at Dymocks promised.  Action, adventure, gritty magic, and a female lead whose main purpose is more than just the canvas for a which-boy-will-i-pick dilemma.  Definitely recommended reading - Jo does a great job at creating a winter wonderland (the word 'wonderland' is probably misleading here because the land is pretty damn harsh).  This would be my favourite book in the series.

Second book, Black Sun Light My Way, takes a bit of a detour into what I have crudely summarized as 'torture games', which is not my favourite bedtime reading.  But then again, what else to expect from a title that references a black sun?

North Star Guide Me Home has more cheer aloud moments (which I am all for) and the magic really starts getting cool.  The books introduce a really interesting conceptualization of family and romantic relationships.  It made me squirm in 1 and 2, and I didn't quite get it until this third installment.  Then it was all 'awwww' and fuzzy wuzzies.

The scene stealer of the series is a blood mage called Rasten who is pretty hardline evil, but endears himself by being the most forthright, takes-no-shit character of the series.  If I had to dislike something about the book, it would be (without giving anything away too much) that there were too many babies.

Pie Chart 1

Alcohol doesn't actually warm people up... does it?

The last few days have been painfully cold.  I can't remember the last time my feet were warm.  I'm still procrastinating on taking that shower because I don't want to strip.  If anything, I should be putting more clothes on.  I should be wearing a grizzly bear.  That's how cold it is.  Even as I type this, I can hear my brethren in Tasmania laugh at me.  I can feel half chewed pieces of apple splat across my face in contempt.  Laugh, oh you southern dwellers, but this is cold weather for Queensland.

Things have been crazy lately.  Actually, when was the last time things weren't crazy?  I am behind on my promise to have Wolfie's stuff read and back to him.  I've got 30 pages to read.  The story itself is awesome, and scary, but mostly awesome.  It's just hard to read on computers.  So many....

Squirrel!

Talking about squirrels, I have been rather inactive on fictionpress, and I thought I might take to fleshing out Woodsman.  Here's what I've written so far: 

The markets in Hastington shrank with each passing year as the Black Forest grew to claim the settlements in the area.  Still, there was business enough even for a young woodsman like Stephen Theiss, who, at fifteen, still hadn’t quite finished growing into the man he would become.  His dark brown locks fell to his eyes and curled around his wide eyes were the colour of moss on bark.  He was lean, but well built to survive the forest, and wore a coat of rusty coloured fur over a simple tunic and breeches to ward against the morning chill.

How I picked up a new book.

On my monthly jaunt to the city (bright light and the big ciiityyyyyyyy... why are you so catchy, CeeLo?) I visit Dymocks.  If anyone who saw me was to described my behaviour, they would probably say that I was 'skulking between the shelves, an exemplar of stranger danger'.

But before you go and call the cops, let it be known that I am simply checking out the competition.

Last trip, a kindly middle aged shopgirl asked me if she could help me find what I was looking for.  I swallowed the first dozen inappropriate responses that sprang to mind.

"Could you recommend a fantasy or supernatural book with a female lead where romance is not the main plot?" I said after the awkward pause where I wrestled  my dirty mind for control.

And that's how I got onto Winter Be My Shield by Jo Spurrier, the first book in a trilogy by one of Australia's own.

Now, I'm not the biggest reader at the best of time, and I have the attention span of a one-finned guppy, but the shopgirl was so convincing that I went to the counter with the book without even cracking it open first (or reading the last time of the book, which is usually the first thing I do when I pick up a book).

I bought it.  $17.99 - make it rain, motherflippers. 

There was a brief moment afterwards when I thought very loudly "Augie, what have you done?  You're not going to read this."  From the odd looks the other people in the bookshop gave me as I left, I think I may have been thinking aloud.

Anyway, I did read it.

And it's really cool.

And before I know it, I'm a quarter way through Black Sun Light My Way, because let's face it, even though it's marketed as 'Book Two', it's really just one seamless story.  They had to break it up into parts otherwise people would use the brick of a book as a bludgeoning weapon.  I've got the third book sitting on my kitchen counter.  Once I finish that one (and if it's not like being stabbed in the guts... I hate books where the good guys don't win), I might do a review.  So watch this space. :)

Not pictured in the book, but will likely feature in the movie adaption:

It begins again

I have just finished the first chapter of the next installment of Sasha Suter.  It will still be months before I'm able to share it, but maaaaan, I so want to post it up now!  It's a lot more fleshed out than the previous works; I go into a lot of detail in setting up the tournament and introducing the world.  There's a lot more focus on the fighting aspect of the story, which is what I want to get more into.  I am unbelievably lucky to have had a chance to pick Solemn's brains (reads: I languish lazily while he comes up with brilliant ideas) about different fighting styles.  Without that, I could have never started this story.  The concept just would never have been realized - my pea sized brain would have just exploded.

And as always, after I've set the scene, I've asked myself, "Now, how will Sasha Suter mess this up?  How do I make Orion face palm?  What would Emron cheer for?  And will Mortimer still love her?"

3800 words later, it's starting to look like a Sasha story.  :)

I'm thinking of introducing an Emron POV in Chapter 2 because his role as a potential love interest is slipping.

A very special Friday

Oh!  And also!!!!

And it's a full moon too!

More Sasha Suter? :S

What to do with Sasha Suter now?

A while back I was bouncing ideas about a 3rd Sasha Suter story, this time, a full lengthish one (about 80 000 words) with much more of a focus on the martial arts side of things.  Solemn helped me flesh out the styles, which was no easy task given that I didn't know what I wanted.  I basically showed him a map of the countries, then shrugged.  In March, I was all Sasha Sutered out.  Now, I'm back to editing Vert Glace and I've been writing a teeny weeny bit of the story.  I don't think it will happen as quickly as the two romance parts happened, because this requires a lot more planning and my brain is just not up to the task.

Anyway, here's how it roughly starts:

Trumpets sounded loud and crisp, consecrating the gelid air that rose from the ice stadium.  Anticipation and pride simmered in the five thousand strong crowd that had gathered from across the Seven Lands.  

Then came the drums - scratchy snares and booming basses reverberated into the bones of the ice and broadcasted the heartbeats of the crowd as one. 

All eyes were on the entrance to the field. 

Sasha Suter was barely tethered to her icy seat in the second row.  In fact, if not for her brother’s firm hand on her shoulder, she was sure that her excitement would have rocketed her off into space.  

I make no guarantees.

The blerg continues.

Today I'm at home with a migraine.  I would love nothing more than to crawl under the warm covers of my bed and stay there until this whole day-time thing is over, but my day so far has been filled with everything but sweet, sweet darkness.  The plumber came today to check out a leak.  A leak is an understatement.  It's more like Niagara Falls (except not as proficient at producing electricity).  At 12pm I've got a doctor's appointment, so he can tell me that I have a migraine - more importantly, he can write down on a little piece of paper that I can take to my boss.  Then at 2 pm someone might be coming over to my house to have a look at the leak.  I'm sure he will tell me that it will cost x thousands of dollars to fix.  I'm going to have to sell a kidney or something to pay for it.  :(

On the bright side... maybe the pain will get better soon and I'll be able to eat food without wanting to throw up!

Back on the horse... hopefully

Urg.  Let's just pretend last week never happened.  I wasn't able to enter the Labyrinth contest in May.  Let's pretend that whole month never happened.

It's well into June now.  Hoorah for Winter.

Heart of Fin and Librarian have both been updated.  Both are drawing to a close.  In fact, I may even post the last chapter of Librarian tonight.

Owning a house is more work than I could have ever imagined.  And, as Tante Liz put it perfectly, it is a money pit.  For the first time in forever, I have less than $1000 in my bank.  If I get hit by any bills, I'm screeeeewed.  I'm hoping that working on Saturdays will help my savings account again.  

The Queen is 88 this year.  I know she's already had her birthday, but today's the day Australia celebrates it.   Wow, she's looking good.   

Like putting my hand down an insinkerator

I just made my first submission to a magazine.  It cost me $6.40 and I had to scull a bucket load of insecurity.  Now on to dinner.  Smoked salmon and rice tastes good. Cashews too.

Tomorrow, if I have recovered, I will work more on my Labyrinth submission.

The year that was.

Talking with my sister tonight reminded me that it's been about a year since I dived back into writing... and Vert Glace is still not done.  :(  I remember the bliss of taking a month's holiday where I spent almost every day writing from morning to night.

June to September 2013 was a shaky time in my life.  I realized that though I loved my work, certain environmental elements made it impossible for me to be completely present with my clients.  This was unfair for them, and downright depressing for me.  Though psychology is just a day job for me, it's still a day job that I take great pride and care in.  I don't think that my work suffered during that time (thank goodness), but I certainly did.  Looking back at how unhealthy I was back then still makes me shudder.

The unintended side effect of my unhappiness was that I drove myself harder with my writing.  In a few short months, I had written 100 000+ words of Lordchaser, Vert Glace's sequel.  I also edited the first draft after feedback from my friends, and realized that I needed a second draft.  Participating in Labyrinth's writing contests also provided a productive escape from reality.  

Taking a new job and moving away from everything I knew was a decision I didn't make lightly.  I even did a pros and cons list for each of my options!  I had the chance to stay in Brisbane as I was offered another job.  but I realized that the only real reason to stay in Brisbane was because it was safe - I had my friends and family close, and I was living with my one true love.  And if I wanted growth, if I wanted change, if I wanted clarification of who I am as a person, then I couldn't just cling to safe.  

A month without (much) internet in October helped me along even more.  I started to find a balance between work, writing, and other living activities.  Walks on the beach is good for the soul.  Thanks Mark Twain.  

My writing's slowed a lot this year.  I wonder if it's because my life is going well, so I don't throw myself into it as much.  Though less productive, I'm pretty sure this is healthier.  I still have the goal of writing something this year that I can query a literary agent with (come on, Vert Glace.  Pull yourself together).  I am aware that the midpoint of the year is approaching fast, and time is like sand through a sieve.  I'm determined to reach it. 

And I have to pause and just acknowledge how much my life has changed since last May.  I've changed jobs.  My partner and I have taken our relationship to the next step.  I'm living alone for the first time (who needs housemates?).  I rarely use my car, I walk to work, but if I have to commute, it is less than 5 minutes drive.  I've bought a house.  I write almost everyday.  And here's the count so far:

Vert Glace - 80k, currently in 2nd draft.

Lordchaser - 100k, almost finished first draft.

Sasha's Stories - 70k, finished and posting on fictionpress.

Shadechasers, 12k+, in progress and posting on fictionpress.

Librarian - 9k+, finished and posting on fictionpress

Numerous short stories - 7k+ together

:)  A part of me thinks that this is too good to be true. 

 

It didn't explode

Well, well, well.  Called up removalists for Saturday and my brain remained unexploded.  Guess my feelings were wrong.

Fyloe's put the next writing contest prompt up.  It looks interesting, but I'm moving this weekend, so I don't know if it's wise to bust my gut writing something.

Pft.

I'm probably going to write something.

Being an adult sucks: Part 2

If I have to organize anything else to do with the new house, my pea sized brain will explode.

Well, it won't.  I'm sure I'll continue on just fine.  

But it feels like it will explode!!!

When can I get back to walking home from work and doing nothing but write?

I've kept up with my posting schedule for Heart of Fin and Librarian.  Barely.  The old itch of readers reading but not reviewing is still there, but I suppose you get use to it.  I haven't written anything decent this week, and it doesn't look like next week will be much better.  I've also told my landlord that I'll be out of this current place by the end of May.  Despite my attempts to live simply, I've somehow managed (again) to accumulate stuff.  Mostly books, but some notebooks and bits of paper too.  So moving is going to be lamprey-level sucky.

On top of that, for some stupid reason, I agreed to do a day's work with adolescents on Saturdays.  Well, it's not a stupid reason... I do like working with young people, and this region is desperately in need of more practitioners...

But it's six day work weeks from here on out.

I have the goal of writing something that I think is good enough to query a literary agent with by the end of this year.  I'm pretty sure I'll be ok if I can fix up Vert Glace by September.  ...but blerg.  

Awkward Racism Phone Call

Her:  Hello (insert name of location) hospital emergency department.

Me:  Hi, this is Augustus from (insert company name).  I'm inquiring about free services for one of my clients.  He's got no identity documents, so he can't apply for a Medicare card at the moment, but I have some concerns about his health, in particular, pain pertaining to a neck injury.  I was just wondering if the hospital would see him?  He doesn't have money to pay for medical fees.

Her:  What do you mean, he doesn't have identity documents?

Me:  Well, his birth certificate got burnt in a fire.  We're in the process of re-applying for one, but I'd like him to see a doctor as soon as possible.

Her:  *laughs exasperatedly*  Where are his documents?  He would need them to open a bank account.  He'd need them to get a driver's licence.  When did he lose his documents?

Me:  About 10 years ago.

Her:  Well, he would have needed his documents.  He'll need them to get a Medicare card.  He'd need to be registered with Medicare for seeing a GP.  He'd need documents to rent and pay his accounts.  What has he been doing?

Me: ...uh, well, he hasn't seen a GP in 30 years and he's homeless.

Her:  Is he an Australian?  Has he been in this country all his life?  Like, is he a true aussie?

Me:  Yes.

Her:  Is he an aussie?  Is he one of us?

Me: ...yes.  I believe that he has been in Australia his whole life.

Her:  He's not from oversees?  Does he have an accent?

Me:  No.

Her:  Well, it would depend on who he saw when he came here.  He won't be refused service, but it would depend on who saw him, whether they decided to charge.  Tell him to come on over.  He won't be refused service.

Me:  Thank you very much for the information.

Her:  Pass on my best wishes to him, ok?

Me:  Ok, thank you.

Black Lagoon and growing up

I'd forgotten how pointlessly violent and how try-hard bad ass this anime was.  I'm not hating, merely stating.  It's amazing what growing up does to a person.

I've recently acquired my first property, a quiet townhouse two streets back from the beach.  My partner and I have called it Atrium.  It's pretty sweet.  I can't believe the bank trusts me enough to lend me hundreds of thousands of dollars.  Of course, I didn't tell them about that incident last month where I almost starved because I prioritized collector's edition rum (no joke.  Rum's gotten fancy) over groceries.  It has high ceilings, white walls, and weird gaps between the wall and ceiling of two bedrooms that makes the whole place more open than I prefer...

But  back to the point of growing up.

I think my teenage self would deliver a swift kick to my older self's backside for not immediately attacking the walls with sample pots of paint.

Ten years ago, I would have died at the opportunity to own my own place because I could put up whatever I bloody wanted on the walls!  Better yet, I could paint what I bloody wanted straight onto the endless white canvas!

Now, I'm thinking that I'll need to rent this thing out in 2 years and so if I deface it, I'm only going to have to get someone to repaint it.

Damn.  I totally get Peter Pan's deal now.

Troll Mountain Episode II and III

Wow.

What starts out as a travel adventure story quickly turns into familiar Matthew Reilly territory; trying to trump one action scene with the next action scene.  It is, essentially, a hero's journey story for kids.  The author's notes/interview at the end of the book pretty much covers anything I would say.  I'm really happy I read it.

Will I be buying any more e-books?

That really depends on Matthew Reilly.  I'm really looking forward to whatever comes next out of that man.

No one gets it right the first time. Not even He Who Must Not Be Named

I can not remember the last time I laughed so hard and for so long.

I want to find the person who created this.  And I want to shake their hand.  

...unless this was an actual page from Voldermort's journal.  Then I should probably start fleeing for my life.

Over the finish line

After a day of lazing around in my pajamas and drifting to and fro from my computer, I have managed to finish Librarian.  Outwardly, I'm sipping tea and eating minty chocolates in a refined sort of way.

Inwardly, I've climbed Tokyo tower and I'm beating my chest and grabbing airplanes from the sky. Yes.  I am both Godzilla and King Kong combined.

I started Librarian on the 15th, and today is the 25th.  Which means I finished a story in 10 days!  It's only a short story, 10 000 words.

Also, I think the 'i' button on my keyboard is losing sensitivity.

Procrastination ahoy!

So, if Librarian started off as procrastination, what is making a cover graphic for Librarian?  Procrastination upon procrastination?  Must it be turtles all the way down?

Watching anime has put me in a silly mood.

But here's the cover for Librarian if I decide I want to post it somewhere.

The end of another chapter

I did it.  I knuckled down.  I finished writing the Heart of Fin.

It's about 34000 words, which is comparative in length to the first installment.  No doubt I will read over it later and groan.  But that's what editing is for - exercising my vocal chords through grunts of discontent.

I've got a third installment planned, but when I get around to it is anybody's guess.  At this point, I'm all Sasha-ed out I'm afraid.  Maybe after I work on a couple of other things, I'll come back to it.  I mean, I really do want to write the next part - there's going to be a lot more kick-assery, and the appearance of an actual bad guy (or, rather, girl)!  Thanks to Solemn, I've got a lot of ideas for fighting styles.  But I'm a bit stumped by the relationship aspect of things.  I think I need to have more of a think about how to write the drama side of things.  But those are all thoughts and plans for another day.  For now, I'm going to drag my flu-y self to bed so that I might have the chance of being all recovered by tomorrow.  This is totally likely, given my 4 in CON.

Yet another story

Tomorrow is Wednesday, my Heart of Fin posting day.  Sometimes, I wonder if being so predictable is like painting a target on my back for muggers.  Well, you can rob me if you want, but I don't carry cash and I lost my bank card last week, so neiner neiner weiner.  

Instead of working on finishing Heart of Fin over Easter, I got completely sidetracked with a random aside which I've working titled 'Librarian'.  It started out as a  'I don't feel like writing anything, but I just gotta put pen to paper... well, fingers to keyboard', to 'I'll make this a three parter', and now it's 6000 words and 5 chapter long.  I think I'm about 2/3 of the way done, but who knows what will happen?  I've stopped trying to predict what I will write.

Here's the first few paragraphs (warning, not edited, and yes, I did just cheap out and abuse latin for spell words):

If Santi had thought that his time as Head Librarian would consist mainly of the leisurely pursuit of wisdom, then he was mistaken.  As he stared into the sunken hollows that might have been the bookworm’s eyes, he wondered if this was a mistake that would be paid with his life.

“Oh, Great Devour of Books, my mortal enemy, would you kindly drop dead?” he asked hopefully.  With the first three volumes of the original Oraculi Alchemiae, Prophecies of Alchemy, in his hands, there was no way that he would be able to cast defensively in time.  He should have known that such delicious volumes would attract the beast.  “Or at the very least, would you considerately come back later?”

In reply, the bookwoom’s looming, serpentine body struck at him, missing narrowly only because the librarian dived out of the way at the last second.  Its thick tail swung around and barrelled into the poor man’s stomach.  The brown powder coating the bookworm’s hide puffed out on impact, creating a choking cloud that smelled of book dust.  

Coughing and wincing, with the books pressed to his chest, Santi rolled unsteadily to his feet.  Unfortunately for him, the bookworm wasn’t one to allow him time to recover.  It threw itselt at him again, this time, its mouth latched onto Santi’s shoulder.  Enzymes in the bookworm’s saliva, evolved to digest the tough leathery covers of books, made short work of Santi’s shirt before burning his skin. 

With a cry of pain, the librarian flung the books as far as he could from the bookworm.  Though every fibre of his body told him to pry the bookworm’s sucking mouth from him, to do so would unleash the creature on the scent of books again.  If it noticed the volumes of Oraculi Alchemiae now, it would surely devour the books before Santi could stop it. 

He drew a nugget of gold the size of an infant’s thumb from his pockets.  Pain made concentration slippery, but he mustered what he could into a simple, but effective spell.

“Parvorum,” he hissed through gritted teeth.    

My first e-book purchase: Troll Mountain Episode I

After a couple weeks of internal debate, I signed up to Amazon and downloaded the Kindle App so that I could get to Troll Mountain by Matthew Reilly, my favourite author of all time.  I finished reading Episode I this afternoon, and I've got Episode II ready to go.  Episode III hasn't come out yet, so I'm a bit iffy on reading Episode II yet just in case it ends on a cliffhanger (as one of Matthew's Jack West books did... I thought I needed to say this just so you all know what this man is capable of).  Who am I kidding?  I will probably read it before the week's end.

The story follows the journey of Raf, a linear 15 year old who leaves his tribe in search of a cure for his sick sister.  He gains two interesting companions on his impossible quest.  

The language is fairly simple, and reads like it is accessible to very young readers.  The characters exist to propel the plot and for the author to present his ideologies on strong/weak, kind/cruel.  It reads like your typical fantasy player-character adventure.  The backdrop is fantasy, which is another interesting deviation from the author's usual action-packed 'real world' thriller.  Do I like the departure from the norm?  Definitely.  It's like seeing teachers dressed like normal people on the weekend.  Like your GP at a Bon Jovi concert.  Refreshing. 

Can't wait for this to become a paperback.  

RED

Someone's chain reading though Game in Play, which gives me joy to no end.

Anyway, I found some concept art I created for Red and Lofae, characters that feature in the Manifesto story.  Can you tell that I like art noveau?

The Arvarlis Emerald - the magical gem that saves Red from...

...the psionic mind eater, Lofae!  What does a psionic creature look like?  Beats me, but this was the creepiest thing my mind could come up with.

Many points, Red tried to off herself, but Lofae had enough wiggle room to stop her.

And here's concept art for the pair of them.

I'm not sure if this is insight into my mind, or incriminating evidence of my poor drawing skills and my tendency to abuse patterns.  ;)

Ridiculous names

30 000 words!  I'm nearing the end of writing Heart of Fin!

My partner says that the names I make up are too ridiculous.  He pointed out that one sounded like a verb + post-positive adjective combo or an onomatopoeia.

Mortimer was the last to arrive.  Emron nodded at the man who walked beside Mortimer, pointing him out to Sasha.  He was a few years older than Mortimer, and rounder too, with blond hair and green-grey eyes.  “Squalt Chomondeley, Marquis of Glous, one of your prince’s chief advisors.” He could see Sasha about to protest the possessive pronoun he had deliberately used when referring to Mortimer.  Before she could snap back, he added, “did you notice how the marquis’ name sounds like a hamster being run over?”

ROTF

Ok, I was going to post some paragraph I just wrote.  But these are so much better:

The World of Sasha Suter

Wow.  Ok.  Last night I stayed up to midnight talking with Solemn about the next installation of the Sasha Suter story, where I can no longer 'wing' the martial arts side of things.  Basically, I needed to find distinct fighting styles for each rough geographic area.  This involved me frantically searching to find all the names of places I've mentioned before in the Birthday Presents/Heart of Fin story AND Vert Glace (and sequel story Lordchaser which I started writing when I was waiting for people to get back to me about Vert Glace... I know, I really need to get out more), then piecing that information into a map.

Then Solemn comes along with his story building and fighting know-how and suddenly, this is starting to look legit.  It's odd that I'm actually starting to have some sort of world here.  And by odd, I mean awesome and frightening.  

The setting of the big reveal... maybe.

The festivities were held on the riverside of the palace in a custom built ice pavilion that extended onto the water.  The structure was organic; it curved and fractalled like a giant, hollow pine cone.  It was lit with beams of solar powered lights that refracted off the ice to create white starbursts.  There were niches furnished with slabs of chiselled ice, topped with pillows and furs.  At the centre of the pavilion was a round bar built of translucent and transparent honeycomb shaped sculptures.  Food was plentiful there, and rumour was that the man behind the bar could create any drink that took the mind’s fancy.

Well, this got awkward quickly

I'm writing a fight scene between Sasha and Mortimer.  It was pretty kick-ass until... well...

It just doesn't sound right when a man pins a woman down, does it? :\

Don't know how to get out of this one.

Maybe I'm over thinking it.

But I don't want to perpetuate misogyny.

Magi 24 in 3 pictures

And now that's all finally over, time to divide and conquer!

You and your buddies can take Magnostadt...whatevs.

But I get this blue haired kid.  What?  I have a thing for kids.  Don't look at me like that!

Magi 24!!!!

This epic.  Seriously.

Maaaaan.  I hope they do another season!

T is not for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

A friend of mine pointed out that Heart of Fin should be rated M.  And I agree, because T, even though I thought it stood for 'Teens', actually is for kids 9+ years old and should not contain any adult themes.

... I recoil in horror to think of how many innocent minds I may have just destroyed.  :(

Things I'm looking forward to in April:

1.  Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

2.  Matthew Reilly's Troll Mountain Episode I

3.  My birthday

4.  3 public holidays

5.  A philosophy discussion hosted by the local bookstore

6.  Oh!  And April Fools Day!!!

April's a good month.

Designated happy drink

Ok.  It is official.  Whiskey brings out the smut in me.  This is important information to know.  Either that, or it's Flathead by The Fratellis because I was listening to that when I wrote this:

Perhaps she could get away with not marrying anybody.  And if that was the case, would she never be with a man?  Sasha found herself blushing at the thought.  When she was younger, all she wanted to do was roughhouse with the boys.  But in more recent years, she’d begun developing more of an interest in matters pertaining to... coitus.  She had been thus far able to get by with taking care of those sorts of hot and embarrassing urges herself in the privacy of her room.  But one day, she wouldn’t mind experiencing such things with a man. 

What would it be like to kiss Mortimer?  What would be like to... do more than kiss him?  She opened her mind tentatively to the possibility.  No one would ever know that she was having these thoughts right now in the bath.  And there was no harm in a little bit of fantasising, was there?

Closing her eyes, she tried to picture what it would be like if Mortimer were to...

It's probably not The Fratellis...thought they are as catchy as hell.

20 000 words

Woot!  It has happened!  Heart of Fin has become a 20000 word document.  It seemed like only yesterday that I was tap tap tapping away at Birthday Presents.  But wow, it was October last year  when Birthday Presents reached 10000 words.  :|  I think I finished it in January.  Will I finish Fin in April?  Given that there's ANZAC day and the Easter holidays, it is likely... that is, if I don't get sidetracked.

Crap.  I gave myself until the end of the year to make Vert Glace good enough to query.  How did Sasha Suter become my main project?

Also, I don't watch a lot of anime anymore, so I don't know how much credit my opinion actually holds, but Magi is probably my favourite this year.  It's heartfelt.  And the characters are crazy balls.  That, for me, is the winning combination for anime. These last few episodes that have just been fansubed are going into ridiculous levels of power ups.  And whereas I look back on Dragonball Z and Bleach and roll my eyes, for some reason, I'm really into it when it happens in Magi.  It has me fist pumping the air and shouting, 'YES!'.

Like this moment where Morgiana has leveled up.  I totally dig this for Sasha and Emron.

Magi: Kingdom of Magic Episode 23

An open letter to Lord Kouen:

Given that the fate of the world hangs in the balance,

you should probably refrain from strangling little kids

and grinding your allies into volcanoes.

This has got to be the most epic episode of Magi I've seen.

Writing circles

So it didn't take me a long time to deviate from the playlist.  There's only so many times you can caterwaul Always before the police turn up at your house.  I think I'm just skirting that number, and I don't want to push my luck (it's bad for my back).

I've found myself listening to a lot of Cobra Starship as I write about Emron Kampft's night time adventures.  There is an obnoxiousness about the music that is quite inspiring when I am writing about this slayer of women.

I'm up to 16 000 words for Heart of Fin, and Vert Glace in contrast is only inching along.  Romance is just too fun.  Well, specifically, subverting every known trope I come across is just too fun.  And I'm sure it's all been done before, and I'm probably just shoveling more dirt on the cliche of upending romance cliches...

...just a heads up - alot of the time, I actually don't know what I'm talking about at all.  I should just shut up, watch the newest episode of Magi, and go to sleep.

The Playlist

So Heart of Fin is going ahead.  14000 words in, and I think it's time to put together the book's sound track (aka serious procrastinating).  I've shortlisted 14 songs and I've put them in an order that's not too jarring to chain listen to.  Here it is:

The Heart of Fin (Soundtrack)

Woman, Wolfmother
Sound of Your Heart, Eskimo Joe
Never Be Lonely, The Feeling
Extraordinary Girl, Greenday
Whistle for the Chor, The Fratellis
The Party, Regina Spektor
Here It Goes, Jimmy Eat World
Everything We Had, The Academy Is...
The Secret's in the Telling, Dashboard Confessional
Unwell, Matchbox Twenty
Please Don't Say You Love Me, Gabrielle Aplin
Dance Inside, All-American Rejects
Lousy Reputation, We Are Scientists
Always, Bon  Jovi 

That's what I'll be writing the story to.  :)

Someone else needs to think of the damn titles to these stories

Big Day Out

So, out of 14 reports, I got 3.5 done.

But look!  My favourite places:

The odds are never in our favour

She was right.  Though part of the reason was so that she could pursue her art with the approval of her family, he had to admit that he didn’t do it for entirely selfless reasons.  Another aspect he had considered was that the union would improve the relationship between Fin and Aeryoine, and consolidate Fin’s interests in the country.  But even with that aside, he was pretty sure he loved this girl.  Loved her in ways that he couldn’t even begin to describe.  He hadn’t been quite sure of his feelings in Aeryoine for they were so new to him, but in the last couple of months, he had become quite certain that this aching, jittery, brave, reckless feeling must be love. 

Too sappy?  I felt a bit ham handed writing it, like I was cramming too many feels in.    

So I've officially put it out there: it's up to the readers to decide if they want a Part 2.  I think that's only fair.  I mean, I'll probably still write it just to maintain my burgeoning romance muscles, but I might just do it at my own pace rather than bust my balls to put something up that I'm not going to get much feedback on.

I've set the bar at 10 people actively responding to express interest.  Hopefully I can grow my readership more from there.  So far, I've got 4/10 interest.  I am skeptical, but hopeful that it will reach 10.  Wow.  So this is what it is like to have your ego on the line.  Waaaay more thrilling than a night at the casino.  

Brace is off

I feel a bit naughty sitting without my brace on.  I don't know why I'm doing this, cause I'm suppose to have it on for another 5 days.  I suppose I'm going through a rebellious phase.  And oh, the glorious freedom I feel around my midsection!

Writing wise, I'm over 7000 words into BP2 (working title).  Sigh.  I wish I was making as much progress with Vert Glace.  Why is procrastination so fruitful?

I was going to post the first part of BP2, but after consulting the peeps on the forum... well, I don't know.  I don't want to cheese off the readers.  I was initially going to finish BP2, find someone to look over it with a professonalish editing stand point, and then offer it up on  Amazon. 

But now, I just don't know.

Do I continue to post the story on FP in hopes of getting more feedback, and building this silent ninja readership of mine?  Or do I try to get paid for my work?