Sonya Clark

#FridayFlash - Magic Hack

2012-02-23T20:38:00.003-06:00

This is the same character and world as a previous flash, Mysterious Ways. In my work in progress FreakTown, Calla is a few years older and used to doing what she does for the first time in this piece, which is background for the book. You can read about the woman known as the Enchantress of Numbers, Ada Lovelace, here.

The rhythmic bass from the arcade's sound system leaked through the concrete and brick into the abandoned building next door. Calla felt it in her chest, down to her bones and sinews. The urge to dance echoed in the sway of her hips as she moved around setting up small candles. Later, she thought. If this worked she'd reward herself with a night in the dancehall at Sinsuality. Right now was not the time for dancing but she did let the rhythm slide around her in a tightening spiral. Music was the easiest way for her to enter a trance state so she used the bleed-over from the arcade to help her get her head in the right place.

Candles arrayed in as near a circle as she could get for what she was doing, she cleared debris from a spot in the middle close to the wall and sat. She had already moved the junk that hid the small rectangle cut out of the old brick. A stray cable from the arcade's network of fiber optics peeked out. The place next door was full of gamers who couldn't afford their own systems at home, so they came to this arcade and others like it to play all kinds of games, mostly MMORPGs. The place may have looked like a dump but it was raking in tons of money and using up even more electricity and bandwidth. Nobody would notice Calla sneaking a little for herself.

Her skin tingled with nerves. If she got caught, by a Normal or possibly even another Magic Born, she'd get shipped off to a DMS lab for experimentation. Either that or shot on sight by DMS agents for breaking whatever Magic Laws they wanted to accuse her of. Rational thinking told her she couldn't possibly be the only Magic Born who could do some of the things she could do. For one thing, she knew kids from FreakTown who scrimped and saved for money to come play in the arcades. Tech wasn't forbidden to Magic Born by law but few could afford it and after the way their people had been outed decades ago most were deeply suspicious of anything to do with computers and the internet. It was taboo, and here she was breaking all the unspoken rules.

But then, rules were made to be broken, even if you only did it in secret.

Calla let herself slide into a near-trance state. Her consciousness hovered in that middle state between the body and the astral for a long time. She'd gotten good at this, very good, but this time the astral wasn't her destination so she took her time. Eventually she picked up the old laser pointer she used as a wand in one hand and the cable in the other. She aimed the wand's light at the cable, making the tip of it glow with the same red.

"Enchantress of Numbers, guide my journey."

With a push of her will she sent magic flowing through the wand into the cable. Through slitted eyes she saw the candle flames burn blue with electric energy before everything fell away. Darkness surrounded her. She took a panicky breath, not sure where she was. Slowly, blue-white light began to form at the edges of the darkness. Dots and lines like the flow of city lights glowed gradually brighter. She struggled to make sense of the confusion of ones and zeros, the long strings of code, that underscored everything. With another push of intention she began to see images and words, packets of data moving from one location to another. Even avatars of other people online.

Triumph bloomed through Calla. She'd done it. Instead of the astral plane she'd projected her consciousness into cyberspace. She's been working toward this goal since the first time her hand brushed an antique piece of electronics and felt the ghost of deleted programs itching against her skin. Since the first time she traced her fingers in the air inches above a power cord and heard electricity whisper like secret music.

She'd finally done it and now she had the world at her feet. All she had to do was learn to navigate. Exhilarated and infinitely curious, Calla set herself to the task.

Enter The Cyberspace by Talirea on Deviant Art

Author Spotlight: Lucy V. Morgan

2012-02-21T00:28:00.000-06:00

Today I'm pleased to welcome fellow Lyrical Press author Lucy V. Morgan to the blog to talk about her new release Chairman Of The Whored.

CHAIRMAN OF THE WHORED

Dark. Debauched. Delicious... Is she ready to go under his knife?

Leila Vaughn is a tax lawyer at a prestigious London law firm. And a whore. She didn’t take the night job just to pay off her debts-- an affair with an older man once stirred a pit of darker desires. Now her year as an escort is almost over, she’s ready to lock up her alter- ego, Charlotte, and be normal once again. What’s bad is that her colleague, Matt, just caught her out. What’s worse is that their boss Joseph is with him.

Matt wants to rescue Leila. And she should want what he does--monogamy and escape from the city--if she's going to be normal, right? But her boss is as familiar with the slippery world of escorting as she is, and that makes him hard to resist. In London‘s tightest circles, he's known as the Chairman of the Whored. Bold, sharp and ruthless, he’s everything Leila is trying not to be--so why can't she say no to him?

Three jobs left before she pays off her debt. Two men playing games she can’t handle. One alter-ego, banging against the mirror. In a dark hotel room, the glass is about to break...

WARNING: Contains clever lawyers with a penchant for violence, and an alter-ego like Tinkerbell on meth.

Lyrical Press

Kindle

Nook

Chairman of the Whored (which is quite the attention-grabbing title, by the way) is erotica and from the description it sounds like it's also pretty heavy on the psychological issues too. Tell us about using BDSM as a means of exploring a character's deepest self.

What I wanted to do with this novel was to explore the idea that BDSM doesn't have to be symptomatic; there's not always a Freudian explanation for wanting to be submissive, for example. I made a point of giving Leila a pretty stable and untroubled background, and if anything, her issues centre around her belief that her BDSM urges are at odds with that. The novel follows her as she learns that being happy and sound of mind, and partaking in kinky, taboo or BDSM-type practises are not mutually exclusive. It's just the way she is--it's the way she handles it that causes trouble.

The book takes place in London, specifically in a part of London called The City. For those of us not familiar with London, what's the distinction? What if anything did the setting bring to the story?

The City refers to London's financial district and its inherent set of politics. It's a fast-paced, cut throat and male-dominated world, and thus a difficult place to work whether you're a man or a woman. It stirs people. Brings out the best and the worst in them.

Leila works in tax law at a prestigious old firm in The City. She's coming up against all of these strong personalities--women she finds herself competing with, men who have power over her. It's a hell of a game and although it got dark and twisted at times, it was fun to write.

You've got a great post on your blog called Know Your Audience: The Romance Conundrum that gets into some really interesting stuff about heroines and how far a writer can take their female characters into a bit darker territory. Tell us about Leila and her alter ego Charlotte.

I'm glad you enjoyed that post!

Leila is a conflicted twenty-something trainee lawyer. She wants to be polyamorous, free with her desires and ultimately dominated, but these are hard things to be and she has most definitely not come out, so to speak. When the excuse to begin escort work comes up--her parents get into trouble financially after supporting her rather expensive education--she really finds a part of herself in that dark world. She gives that part of herself a name, Charlotte, and separates it because she finds that comforting. She's afraid of Charlotte because so many people around her wouldn't accept someone unwilling to be monogamous, someone who wants the things she does.

Then she discovers that Joseph, her boss, has similar desires. They begin a covert exploration of each other.

The men in Leila's life are Matt and Joseph, who sound like opposites and may or may not qualify for the term "hero". Tell us about them.

I never wrote Matt or Joseph with the idea that they might be heroes or villains. They're just men at very different stages in their lives, though they're similarly a bit lost.

Matt, Leila's fellow trainee, grew up in the country and is uncomfortable with life in The City. He ended up there a little by accident and feels tainted; though he has strong feelings for Leila, he can't help but judge her by the same standards. His parents went through a very messy divorce and he has a conflicted relationship with fidelity. (On the plus side, his ass looks wonderful in tailored trousers).

Joseph is clever, frustrated and bored. He made senior partner at thirty five and is pretty much relegated to playing with his employees for entertainment. He has a very high libido, a fascination with edge-play, and there's a reason that people in-the-know in London call him the Chairman of the Whored.

What's your favorite scene in the book, without giving too much away?

While there are a lot of darker undertones in this book, a few lighter ones prevail; suffice to say that one scene involves both a lightsabre duel and a topiary octopus. It was definitely fun to write.

What was the hardest part to write, again without giving too much away?

There's a sex scene where Leila is blindfolded, and I admit I ended up going over it several times in order to get all her sensory descriptions right.

Your path to publication included two important things you did to build an audience. Let's talk about Literotica first - what is it and what did posting there do for you?

I started writing full-length erotic pieces on Literotica a few years ago. You get a very mixed bag of stuff there(!) but it's a brilliant source of feedback, and for that reason, it was a great place to cut my writing teeth. I also found it great for networking purposes.

Beautiful Mess is an entertaining novella that you posted for free on Amazon and other online retailers. In fact I enjoyed your writing style and voice so much in that, it's why I asked you to stop by the blog. Has offering a free read been helpful in building an audience? Is it something you recommend other authors do?

I'm glad you liked it! Thank you (although I must say, the voice in Beautiful Mess is a lot lighter than in my usual work, and I was probably only able to maintain that because it was short).

I don't have sales figures for other works yet so it's impossible to say how effective offering a free read has been, in that regard. However, it has certainly increased my visibility: I get a lot more web hits, and some reviewers are perhaps a little more aware of me as a writer. Overall, it's been a positive experience.

What's your non-writing life like? You're a publishing intern for one thing and don't you live above a pub? Tell us all about Lucy V. Morgan.

I was a publishing intern until December; I left (and turned down an editing position, in the end) because I had no time to write. It was writing or editing and something had to give. I learned a heck of a lot from reading slush, though.

I do indeed live above a pub. I hear surprisingly little noise from it too(!). I spend a lot of time out swimming and walking, and I am a bit of a bookworm. I like nothing better than making cocktails with friends and ignoring the rest of the world. I also have embarrassingly bad taste in music.

What are you working on now? Will there be a follow-up to Chairman of the Whored?

There is indeed a follow-up to Chairman: it's called The Whored's Prayer and it releases on June 4th. In the meantime, I have two new novels-in-progress and I'm also developing a paranormal television series with producers, which has a been a steep but exciting learning curve!

Thank you for having me!

Thank you for stopping by, Lucy!

Learn more about Lucy V. Morgan at www.lucyvmorgan.com and follow her on Twitter.

#FridayFlash - The Mighty Warrior

2012-02-16T19:15:00.002-06:00

Dylan slept, restless and moaning in the throes of a nightmare. A shadow leached out from under his bed, looming over his small form. Cold followed it, a hint of frost creeping across the bed covers. The boy cried out when it touched the little finger of his right hand.

Tedward leaped into action, swinging his sword at the monster. The blade connected to a scaly forearm. The creature snatched its limb back, snarling. With its other arm it swiped at Tedward. He launched himself into the air, flipping head over heels and landing on the headboard, sword at the ready. The monster blew a mighty gale of frosty breath at him. Tedward dodged to the left, nearly crashing into the Batman lamp on the nightstand. He slapped a paw against the wall and pushed, using the momentum to fly at the creature.

He got in one good strike right across the monster's face. The monster got in a strike of its own, though. Its claw opened a gash across Tedward's midsection. He fell to the floor, dropping his sword.

Dazed, he lay there for a moment. Sitting up gingerly, he inspected the wound. Not bad enough to be fatal, but bad enough there was stuffing poking out. He tried to tuck it back in as best he could and retrieved his sword.

Dylan still slept, oblivious to the battle. If Teward couldn't vanquish the monster himself he would need to wake the boy and hope he screamed. That was a sure-fire way of dispelling monsters. The only trouble with that method was that the boy would then remember enough of the nightmare to be traumatized, giving it the power to return. If Tedward could slay the beast, Dylan would settle back down into a deeper sleep and never be the wiser about what happened.

Tedward steeled himself, gripping the sword hilt tight. The monster was once again looming over the bed, spreading it's cold nasty darkness closer and closer to the sleeping child. The mighty warrior surveyed the floor to see what might be useful. Dylan's old mini trampoline sat in the corner, now covered with various Star Wars Legos.

YES. That will do.

Tedward moved stealthily to the back of the room, then took a running go and jumped onto the trampoline. Legos went flying. So did Tedward. Through the air, sword held high, bow tie flapping. He landed on the monster's back, sinking the sword deep into its hide. It jerked, roaring in anger, but Tedward held on, twisting the sword in deeper. He kept up the pressure and in moments the beast sank to the ground, its shadow dissipating as it died.

Tedward slumped to the floor, exhausted. He lay there until morning when Dylan woke and found him injured.

"Mommy, Teddy needs surgery." Dylan held his favorite bear up for his mother.

She examined the bear carefully. "What happened to him?"

"I don't know. I found him that way. Can you fix him?"

"Of course, baby." She ran a hand through Dylan's hair. "Let me go get the sewing box and I'll fix him right up. Why don't you go get a snack? I cut up an apple for you."

He got the apple and carried it back to his mom's work room, standing in the doorway. She had Teddy on the table, leaning over him while stitching the strange cut across his tummy. Dylan had no idea how that happened, unless maybe he caught on something when he fell off the bed. Dylan couldn't remember. He took a bite of apple and was about to leave when his mother spoke.

"What kind of monster was it this time?"

"A frost beast. They're rare but dangerous."

Who said that?

"You did a wonderful job, Tedward," his mother said. "As you always do."

"I am charged with the boy's safety, it is my sacred duty. But I love him too, you know."

She smiled, cutting the end of the thread. "I know. We are so lucky to have you. Dylan is such a special boy."

"The strength of his imagination draws these creatures. They will never relent. Neither will I."

"You're a mighty warrior, Tedward." She picked up the bear carefully and made to leave the room.

Dylan ducked around the corner into the bathroom before she could see him. His breathing came in short choppy gasps. Was that real? Did he really just witness his mother having a conversation with his teddy bear? What in the world?

He crunched another bite of apple. As he chewed he thought things over. There was only one conclusion that made sense. Dylan whispered to himself, "My teddy bear is a mighty warrior. That is the coolest thing ever!"

Writing and publishing are not the same thing, part three

2012-02-15T00:01:00.001-06:00

Part One
Part Two

How long have you been writing? Do you remember what that first rush was like? Putting pen to paper, letting the words flow first in a trickle, then a steady river, and finally - best of all - a wave you can't control but can only hope to ride into the safe shore of a completed story. Is there anything better than being deep into the story, so deep you're untangling plot lines while washing the dishes, working on your characters' back stories while in the shower, zoning out in front of the TV because the story in your head is so much more engrossing. The writing itself is always exciting, full of unexpected revelations no matter how detailed your outline was. Your characters surprise you. The plot twists and turns into new and different shapes and patterns. That story is a living breathing entity that you are midwifing into existence.

Storytelling is a passion, an addiction. It's not just what you do, it's who you are. It's part of your DNA just as much as the color of your eyes. The stories you tell are a product of both your environment and your insatiable curiosity. The best of your stories will be the ones you have an emotional connection with, the ones that made you cry while writing them, that made you laugh and worry and sweat over and dream about. The characters whose voices would not be silenced are the ones who stick with you and demand their stories be told.

That's a lot of emotion to pout into your art, but then that's how art works. It's made of our dreams and hopes and nightmares and fears. It's made of us. It can be all-consuming to feel yourself almost disappear into a story because you're focused on it so much. Frightening too.

Every person is built differently so every writer handles this in a different manner. Some are able to keep some distance between themselves and their stories. I think the ones who are exceptionally prolific are probably like that, though I could be wrong. Please don't think this is a criticism. As I said in yesterday's post, I wish I could be more prolific. Over the past year I've tried my hand at writing faster, at writing stories that I didn't feel as much of a connection to, at writing to the trends. I want the art of writing, but I also want the commerce of publishing. What I learned was that I can't write if I don't feel a connection to a story, at least not well. Not anything I'd be proud of. I have to have that emotional connection, even if it makes the writing more difficult. I guess that's just how I'm built. Creating a story is such an emotional commitment for me, it can be all-consuming and exhausting. To be blunt, I don't have anything left over to write something I don't much care about just because it might possibly maybe be popular and sell.

There is a great deal of pressure in publishing to build a backlist as quickly as possible but the truth is, not every writer can do that. There are also writers who are never going to write anything trendy, never going to write anything that appeals to a mass audience. There are people who will write stories that are a blend of genres, another thing we're told not to do. If the work is so much a part of you that you can't let go of your genre-blending ideas or other things that might get you rejected by agents and editors no matter how good the story is, that might get passed over by readers no matter how good the book is, you're going to have to make a decision at some point. What do you want more, success at publishing or success at writing?

Which is not to say every writer should be a special snowflake, but every writer is a person. We're capable of different things and different levels of commitment. It takes a lot more to write a book than stock a shelf in a grocery store and I don't think it's fair to any writer for someone - even another writer - to say that we should just be able to write whatever. If your heart's not in it, you run the risk of the story being crap. If you can treat your writing in a workman-like manner and still create something worth reading, more power to you. Not all of us can do that and I think it's okay to admit that, just like it's okay to admit that some people write for money.

Being a success at both writing and publishing, art and commerce, is a great goal to have. It's a goal I've had myself. If forced to choose though, I'll take writing and art every day and twice on Sunday. If *you* choose differently, that's fine too and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. The important thing to remember is that every writer forges their own path. Yours doesn't have to be like someone else's.

What I've tried to do with these three posts is discuss the difference between writing and publishing and I hope I've made some sense. What I especially want to stress is that being less successful in one arena is not the worst thing. If publishing doesn't work out for me I will continue to write, even if it's just online serials. I wish I could make a little money at this but if I can't then at least I'll know I'm writing something I'm proud of. Besides, how could I ever stop writing when I'm so addicted to storytelling?

Writing and publishing are not the same thing, part two

2012-02-14T00:01:00.001-06:00

Part One

You want to be a success at the publishing side of this coin. Obviously you do, you hit send on that query/submission. So you do your due diligence and research all the things you as a writer need to do beyond the actual writing. You join various social networks and try blogging and have business cards made and bookmarks of your cover art and plan blog tours and swag giveaways and maybe if you're lucky even real world events. You are proud of the novel you've written and you're going to do the best you can to promote it and make it a success.

And it doesn't work. Then what? First, ease up that death grip on that bottle of tequila. Second, you can only watch Firefly so many times in a row before the urge to write fanfic hits, so be careful. Stop at two marathon viewings. Third, go back to work.

So the book you wrote didn't connect with readers for whatever reason. You will spend a great deal of time trying to figure out why. There's no way around that so I won't even try. The best thing you can do is keep writing, but you may find yourself at a crossroads.

The typical advice you will see is to write from the heart, write the stories you care about, write what only you can write. And that's the best advice. But if you look around the book world you're going to notice some things. You're going to see a hell of a lot of brooding vampires, virile shapeshifters, erotic romance, young adult paranormals with love triangles, and some other trends. You're going to ask yourself, do all these writers really have a vampire/werewolf love triangle as the deepest story of their heart? Or are they writing this trendy stuff because it's what brings all the readers to their yard? And is that a bad thing?

I used to think so but I've changed my mind. Think about it this way: plenty of actors will do big movies that pay really well so they can do off-beat indie stuff that barely pays their gym membership. Plenty of musicians play sorta-secret corporate gigs for ridiculous money. Painters and photographers will take work on commission. So will jewelry designers, sculptors, any number of creative artists. Why should writers be any different? You may scoff at the author that has as many as three or even five or six releases in a year, but do you ever stop to think what drives them? Are they paying their mortgage with that money? Feeding their kids? And what else might they be working on that they don't talk about publicly? Is that "book of the heart" waiting in the wings while they build a name for themselves, pay off bills so they can be more selective about what kind of contract they sign for it, while they hone their craft? If we can understand that a talented photographer took a few suburban wedding gigs to pay for a trip to some beautiful place where they could take really amazing photographs, why can't we understand when writers essentially do the same thing? Not only have they earned themselves money, they've made a customer - a reader - happy, and isn't that one of the big reasons we do what we do?

The difference between writing and publishing is the difference between art and commerce. It's perfectly okay to want both. It's perfectly okay to straddle the line between the two. I certainly wish I could write a book every six or eight weeks that's in one of the hot selling genres and have more contracts than I can keep up with. The desire may be there but I've learned over the past year that not everyone can do this. I haven’t learned how to focus on the publishing and commerce side of things to the extent that I could do it.

Tomorrow in part three of this series I'll talk about writing and art and having a passion for storytelling.

Writing and publishing are not the same thing, part one

2012-02-13T00:44:00.000-06:00

So there was that post the other day, in which I discussed a topic we're really not supposed to talk about. It seemed to strike a nerve with a few people and it got me thinking further. For one thing, I don't think I made it clear enough in that post that in my mind there is a difference between writing and publishing. That post was about publishing and some of the issues I'm having in that arena. The last thing I intend to do is give up writing, but the realist in me knows that publishing may not work out for me.

Here's the way I see it: publishing is a business. Yes, you see that point made everywhere but have you really internalized it? I didn't until after signing my first contracts. For so long a writer's main goal is to be published. It's what you hope for, what you dream of. Some of us start networking and attending conferences early, some of us go to school for creative writing degrees or MFAs. Some of us work at it alone (that's what I did). Whatever else you're doing, you're writing and dreaming.

Then the dream becomes reality and you finally realize - YES, publishing really is a business. And that business had very little to do with the art of writing. First it sinks in that contracts are actual legally binding documents and not, you know, more like guidelines. Then it sinks in that someone else is going to tell you what to do with your manuscript (editing). And someone else is going to decide how to best represent your story to the reading public (cover art). And a whole bunch of other things. What was you and the story is now you, the story, and a cast of, well, at least tens of people.

This is a good thing! You need those people to help you be a success and unless you're one of those idiot special snowflake types you'll recognize that and develop good relationships with them. But it's still weird. It's just been you and the story for so long and now you have to let all these other people in. It can be an adjustment but if you keep a positive attitude and recognize that all these people want very much for you to be a success, you'll be fine.

I didn't have a problem with this part. I was eager to learn from my editor and I love getting new cover art. And I do know that all these people wish for the success of my books and help me work toward that goal. So that's awesome, and a great part of entering into this business.

It's when a book is released into the wild that things get weird. That's when you start to realize that no matter how much talent you might have, no matter how hard you worked on that manuscript, no matter how fantastic the writing side of this coin is - you might very well suck at publishing. Twenty-first century publishing requires things of writers that we as a species traditionally either don't have or aren't good at. One is money - we are now required to take on much of the burden of promoting and marketing our books, even if you get a Big Six contract. To do this effectively you either have to have money to spend on various types of promotion (this topic may get its own post) or you have to be damn lucky with social media. Which means you can't be an introvert like me who is afraid to talk to people on Twitter unless they talk to me first. When you are not a naturally outgoing person and don't know how to network to save your life, it's going to have an impact on your ability to promote your work. Sucks, but it's the reality these days.

What about word of mouth, you ask? That one is important. Networking helps with that and so does writing the best book possible. But even if you do write the best book you can and a handful of strangers agree that it's good, that doesn't mean anything. If your work doesn't appeal to readers you are not going to be successful in publishing. It won't matter how good your book is, how much you've networked or spent on promotion or anything else. All that really matters is appealing to readers. And honestly, who the hell knows what's going to appeal to readers? Readers are busy and they're on a budget and they can be fickle and unpredictable. And there's nothing we writers can do about that.

This is getting long so I'm going to break this into three parts. Tomorrow I'll talk about straddling the line between art and commerce.

#FridayFlash - Even Demons Get The Blues

2012-02-10T00:01:00.002-06:00

When I eventually write my Great American Rock 'N' Roll Novel, the musician will be a cross between Robert Johnson and Jack White. Until then, I'll have this short preview. And this. And this. And this.

Even Demons Get The Blues

I listened to him play, my eyes closed. Sliding inside the music, in between the notes like a secret whisper. He played for a packed, rowdy, and not totally appreciative bar, but I liked to pretend he played for me alone.

There was a time when he had but that would soon be over. This would be one of his last anonymous gigs. His debut album dropped next Tuesday. That would be the real beginning of his career, of his stardom. All the arrangements had been made, just as surely as notes on sheet music.

Oh, but my boy liked to improvise. He liked to riff and rumble and hiss and whine. He liked to take a song he'd played a hundred times before into new and dark places, deep woods and dirty alleys. Sometimes even glittering, shiny mountaintops. My boy liked to improvise and surprise and startle you with sudden changes, slow burns, and blue notes that made you ache for things you couldn't name. He could play gentle and loving. He could play fierce and bleeding. Literally, fingertips oozing blood onto the strings and down the copper top of the custom guitar I'd given him after he signed his record deal.

I opened my eyes to watch as the music got louder. He played with his whole body, not just his hands. Swaying, bending, shaggy black hair bouncing, arms flexing with effort. Eyes barely open and biting his lip. He tried hard to be the cool guy, nonchalant and unimpressed with it all. He failed miserably at that. Take him to a second hand record store full of old vinyl and he'd purr like a kitten with a fresh mouse. It wasn't something I did for all my artists but for him I arranged private tours of places like Sun, the Delta Blues Museum, the Country Music Hall of Fame. My dear boy swam deep in those holy waters.

Yes, my boy respected the old traditions. Nobody did it this way anymore but for our deal we found ourselves a crossroads. He handed me his old beat up acoustic, I tuned it for him, played a little blues for him, then handed it back. His eyes glowed under the moonlight and I trembled when he kissed me.

He was my favorite since Robert. I had to admit that at least to myself. Over the course of my existence I've been both male and female countless times, every color, race, nationality. I've collected the souls of great composers who wanted out of obscurity. Violinists who wanted to play on the best stages of Europe and traveling minstrels who wanted to keep the coin coming their way. Opera singers, vaudeville acts, blues and jazz and country and Satan help me, even a guy who dreamed of writing commercial jingles for Madison Avenue. Hey, you gotta go where the work is. Blues made my kind a legend but it was rock and roll that brought us into the big leagues. People will sell their souls for all sorts of stupid reasons but musicians - I don't know what it is about them. I just know it was what I was drawn to all that time ago and I still am. My kind - the ones that deal with musicians - consistently have the highest success rate with the sole exception of those who deal with politicians.

The song turned low-down and dirty and I turned my attention to the stage. He raised his head just enough to give me a little half grin, a promise for later. I shivered, caught the eye of a waitress and ordered another drink. Sleeping with my musicians was no biggie, we all did that. It was just another way of building the business relationship, gaining their trust. Okay, getting them on the ropes. At first I thought it might be fun to tease my delicate small town boy, show him some of the male faces I'd worn over the years during intimate moments. Instead I found myself wanting to give him what he wanted, and he very much wanted this tall curvy female form. Those hands of his that vented so much fury on a guitar would be so gentle with this flesh. He'd twine his fingers around this hair the color of autumn leaves and ask for stories.

He knew what I was, of course. No hiding that when you're out to make a deal, not once you get down to brass tacks and the fine print. My traditionalist boy liked to hear about the old blues players I'd known, the early rockers, the country crooners, even the jazz players. We'd sit in bed until morning tinted the sky and I'd teach him songs that were never recorded, techniques lost to time.

My darling boy had a passion for music, and I had a passion for my boy. For the first time in my long existence I'd fallen in love. A demon - in love with the man whose soul they'd bartered for - whoever heard of such a ridiculous thing? Hopefully no one. It was so far against the rules and so unlikely I don't think they even bothered to put it in the rules. But I knew what the consequences would be, for both of us.

Tuesday his life would change. The wheels were already turning. The deal done, he would begin his new journey as a rock star and I'd be expected to move on to another musician, another deal. My fresh drink burned with an unaccustomed bitterness. I closed my eyes and let myself get lost in his music while I still had the chance.

Demons don't cry. Not even when you play the blues. That's what I told myself, anyway.

Accepting failure

2012-02-09T02:24:00.000-06:00

I probably shouldn't post this, but here goes ...

Sometimes I think about giving up on publishing and just writing online serials so I can do what I want without worrying. I would miss having an editor to help me make my work better, but I would not miss feeling the pressure to make money. To be honest, my books don't make money. Financially speaking, I am a failure as an author. This has been a hard thing for me to face but its impossible to ignore the reality of the royalty statements every month.

Don't get me wrong - I never anticipated getting rich. I knew I would very lucky if I ever made the equivalent of minimum wage from writing. Between paying for my copyright, my domain, and various promotional expenses, I barely break even. And I don't even spend much on promo because I can't afford to. Last year for Mojo Queen I splurged on a blog tour, bought stuff for a prize pack, worked my tail off on guest posts and interviews and responding to comments, and then waited for a bump in sales. And waited. And waited some more. I'm still waiting. It was a hard thing to keep opening those statements every month while trying to write the follow-up book, seeing the dismal numbers and being afraid that once again I might wind up costing us money. It caused a lot of problems with trying to finish Red House and there were days I didn't think it would ever happen. It was a kind of soul-crushing depression that I never felt with rejection or even bouts of writer's block. I began to wonder if this was all a waste of time and effort. If I had any business trying to be a writer at all.

When Red House comes out this year I won't be paying for another blog tour. It's a shame because it was actually fun and a positive experience at the time, except for the whole not helping my sales at all part. I have no idea what's wrong with Mojo Queen. It's gotten good reviews and the few people that have read it seemed to like it. Apparently it is lacking something though, and lacking it pretty severely based on the poor sales numbers. I had a lot of hopes for it because I was proud of the book and I thought it might be different enough to be noticed. Plenty of times I've seen people - everyone from agents to editors to book bloggers to readers in comments - say they were tired of the same old thing and wanted something a little different. I thought Mojo Queen might fit that bill. I was very wrong. I'm still proud of Mojo Queen and I'm proud of Red House too, but I no longer have any expectations of it being a success. In fact, I almost feel guilty it was accepted. Other people will work on this book, like with MQ, and I hate that they might consider that time and effort wasted because the book is a financial failure. If only a handful of people are reading my online serial, well, that's just my problem. It doesn't affect anyone's bottom line.

I have no idea what the secret to writing a successful book is. If Mojo Queen was perhaps too different from the norm of urban fantasy, that tells me FreakTown doesn't stand a chance of being accepted anywhere, much less noticed by readers. Brooding vampires, virile shapeshifters, and erotic romance all seem to sell very well and I've tried my hand at writing those things. And hated what I produced. My heart wasn't in it. Everyone tells you to write the stories you care about, the stories that are in your heart, but what do you do when no one wants to read them? Do you give up? (I mean on publishing, not writing.) Seeing those sales numbers every month is a very disheartening experience but I honestly don't know what to do about it. I don't have the money to do the kind of promo that might get my work noticed more and I'll never be the type of writer to crank out six books a year to build a quick backlist. Some days it feels like trying to climb Everest without oxygen or ropes or anything at all. What the high altitude can do to your lungs, being a publishing failure is doing to my dreams as a writer.

But there is still joy in the creative act of writing and I believe there always will be for me. I would like readers to share in that but I guess there's nothing I can do about it if no one finds my work worth reading. Well, worth paying for anyway. I would love to see FreakTown published, would love for it to be a success. But much like I've had to face my own failure, I've had to face the reality that this story may never find a home. It may be too hard to market and that will probably trump any liking of the story itself or of my writing. Especially since I have such a lousy sales track record. I know this, and many other practical considerations. I know that I should probably keep trying with the things that seem to sell - vampires and shapeshifters and sexytimes. Young Adult paranormals with love triangles. (If you stacked up the amount of YA paranormal love triangles out there you probably could climb Everest without any rope.)

A lot of people talk about what a triumph it is to break into publishing, but there's not much talk of what happens when your books are failures. We're probably not supposed to talk about things like that. That's too much raw honesty and most people aren't comfortable with that. The only reason I'm talking about it is because now that I've accepted my failure I'm trying to figure out what I did wrong and if I have the ability to fix it. I blame no one but myself. I don't have any answers yet. No matter how much I try to be practical, I don't have it in me to write what's trendy in the hopes of making a little money and a name for myself. If I felt a connection to any of those types of stories I'd be writing the hell out of them, but I don't. What I want to do is continue working on FreakTown, even though I know it's unlikely it will ever be accepted and even if it is it won't make any money or be noticed by readers. Does that seem like a waste of time? Maybe it is. It's better than letting failure squeeze the air out of my lungs. It's better than writing something I'm not proud of. Maybe one day I'll figure out the secret to writing something people actually want to read. For now I'll just keep climbing, fighting the thin air and the cold.

#FridayFlash - Unlikely Inspiration

2012-02-03T01:13:00.000-06:00

Note: This is weird for me because there's no paranormal element or music. The idea for the story came from seeing so many of my fellow writers joke on Twitter about their research getting them on a watch list. I have no idea if the government can really trace Google searches back to individuals but it wouldn't surprise me, and I wondered about the FBI agents or whoever would get stuck with that job.

Agent Cutler watched his favorite fantasy navigate the crowded break room on killer heels that made her taller than him. Her long dark hair swayed as she moved. She called greetings to friends but didn't stop, heading right for the coffee urn he stood next to.

"Agent Marx," he squeaked, instantly regretting it.

"Hi Lee." Intent on making a cup of coffee, she didn't look at him.

"Uh, it's Lou."

Not that she heard because Agent Dobson approached from her other side and seized her attention. They chatted about their latest cases, one working on organized crime, the other human trafficking. Cutler pretended to follow the conversation even though he was clearly not a part of it. Whatever, it let him stand close to her for a few moments longer.

Dobson speared him with a glance. "So Cutler, you still stuck in the basement running IP addresses for suspicious searches?"

Cutler blanched. "Criminals use the internet too, you know. They search all kinds of things." Even to himself he sounded ridiculously defensive.

Marx gave him a pitying look, then excused herself. Everyone knew he was assigned to search detail as punishment. Screw up one case and everybody judged. One very high profile case. Cutler shook his head. Anybody could have mistaken a bunch of fourteen year olds designing their own role playing game for terrorists, especially with the evidence he had. Chat logs, emails, a Tumblr full of pictures of guns and naked women. It turned out he'd stumbled across the group as they researched and planned their game's bad guys, were all honor roll military kids, and - oh yeah - completely innocent. But still, anyone could have made that mistake.

That's what he liked to tell himself, anyway.

He descended to his cubicle and went back to work. He would find something, it was only a matter of time. An hour later he came across a combination of searches that dinged every alarm in his training. Desert Eagle. C4. Blast radius. Layout of Empire State Building. This was it - what he'd been waiting for. A ticket out of the basement and back into working cases. Surely this was the nascent plans of a terrorist cell bent on destruction and the murder of innocents.

His heart pounded as he ran the IP address. Once he had that he used a special program to trace that to an actual person, something civilians couldn't do. Within thirty minutes he had the name, physical address, and website of the person conducting the search.

Cutler wanted to put his fist through the computer. "Damn it!"

His neighbor in the next cubicle rolled his chair over. "What's up, buddy?"

"I'm so sick of this happening. Every time I think I’m on to something big, it turns out to be some damn writer."

Tom nodded. "Yeah, I hear ya. Last week I thought I had somebody planning to release smallpox in New York. Turned out to be some dude writing a medical thriller." He used air quotes around the last two words. "What the hell is a medical thriller anyway?"

Cutler waved at the computer. "This one's a romance novelist. Whoever heard of this kind of stuff in a romance novel?"

His other neighbor piped up. "Hey, there's all kinds of romance novels with action and suspense." Laura raised her head over the cubicle. "Navy Seal romances are hot right now."

Tom sneered. "I thought vampires were the thing."

Laura ignored him and addressed Cutler. "I've come across a lot of writers too. To be honest I'd rather this stuff we trace all lead to dead ends. Better that than the alternative." She returned to her work.

Cutler felt summarily chastised. He agreed with her of course but damn he wanted out of purgatory. It bothered him all weekend. Had there always been this many writers out there? So many of his search traces led to writers, it seemed like there must be thousands of them. Recalling the name of the latest romance novelist he'd traced, he search an online bookstore and found several novels for sale. He had no idea why, maybe it was boredom, but he bought a book and spent the next few hours on the couch with his ereader. Then he bought another. And another. He slept little, instead devouring one book after another.

Monday morning came too soon. Bleary-eyed, he collapsed into the uncomfortable chair at his cubicle and booted up the computer. He'd left his ereader at home but he had an app on his phone that would let him read on breaks. He was in the middle of one about an ex-Special Forces guy turned private investigator trying to solve a murder with a sexy reporter. The description of the reporter reminded him of Agent Marx. He'd read the first sex scene four times and hoped there'd be more.

An hour later he traced his first writer of the day. He pushed away from the desk, thoughts spinning. No way. I can't do that. I don't know how to do that.

Nonetheless, the seed of an idea had planted itself. A disgraced FBI agent. Leads to a terrorist plot that no one believes. Somehow a female agent is drawn into helping him uncover the truth and stop the terrorists. Redemption! And sex, because why not?

It wasn't much of an idea to go on. Based on what he learned from the traces he'd done there were plenty of writers out there who started with less.

Cutler glanced around to make sure no one was looking, then he opened a blank Word document. He held his fingers over the keyboard for a long moment, full of doubt.

Hell with it. He began to type.

#FridayFlash - Mysterious Ways

2012-01-27T01:53:00.000-06:00

Calla pawed through the box, tossing aside stray bits of wire and broken pieces she couldn't identify. Ignoring things she had no use for, like several old cell phones and TV remotes. She could make things work but she had no talent for cobbling together bits of this and that. A lack of ability she lamented but what the hell, she only had so much money to spend anyway.

She moved on to another box, about done with this stall. There were other places in the bazaar to visit. She needed more of the jet beads the Craft Emporium in the zone didn't carry. Some vegetables would be nice too, maybe a few apples. Cloth to make a new set of sheets. Five more minutes at Albie's and then she'd go.

A flash of pink caught her eye. She dug it out from under a handful of floppy disks. An inch wide, two inches long, one button on the front above a tiny cracked screen and two buttons on the side. The smudged, worn out remains of print were no help in identifying the object but the unmistakable volume dial took care of that.

Calla glanced around. Albie was busy at the other end of his stall with a haggling customer. No one else paid attention. She closed her fist around the device and let her vision slide out of focus.

Plug me in, Nicola. Let the wires speak to me.

It took a moment for her to pick up a tell-tale trace of leftover energy. A hint of music teased, just enough to let her know this would be worth the money. She severed the connection and did a quick grounding, shuffling her feet on the concrete for good measure.

The little player was going home with her but she made sure to haggle a little and show just enough reluctance to not raise suspicion. Albie was a decent sort for a Normal but he knew she was Magic Born. Not a good idea for too many Normals, or other Magic Born for that matter, to know the strange path her magic had taken. Everyone like her, the few that she knew, were secretive almost to the point of paranoia. No one wanted to wind up in a DMS lab as the star experiment.

She finished her shopping quickly, constantly checking her pocket to make sure the player was still there. Usually she walked to and from the bazaar but this time she wanted to get home quickly so she spent a little more of her cash on a train ticket back to the zone. The subway was crowded with Normals, their dull energy oppressive in the hot humid car. An easy glamour kept anyone from noticing her, though purple hair and tattoos weren't exactly uncommon in this part of the city. Even so, she didn't want to risk bringing attention to herself.

The stop nearest the zone was still three blocks away. Calla hurried, badging in and ignoring the hard stares of the DMS guards. Another few minutes to her apartment and she was finally able to relax. She forced herself to put the other purchases away first but the whole time she could feel the energy building inside, a quiet hum growing into a heavy rattle.

Gathering a candle and the old laser pointer she used for a wand, she sat on the floor with the player on her knee. She let the rattle in her blood build to a bang and a clatter, thumping harder with every heartbeat. Directing the energy at the candle brought the wick popping to life. She thumbed the button on the wand, pouring magic into it. A short beam of reddish-purple light shone. She focused on the player, ad-libbing a spell.

Help me Tesla
Madman of the Wires
Let your power flow
Fill this with your current

The player floated to eye level, directed by her wand and surrounded by a crackle of blue-white light.

Madman of the Wires
Give it life, give it voice
Charge it with my magic
Charge it with your power

The blue-white light popped and sizzled with the force of the spell. Purple arcs of light flashed quickly before dissipating then blooming to life in another spot. The player spun, slowly at first, then faster. So fast she could barely see it in the middle of the electrical storm. Something snapped in her awareness like the clapping of hands or the slamming of a door. She held out her empty hand palm up. One last burst of multicolored light and the storm collapsed in on itself, the player shooting into her palm.

The outlay of magical energy hit her quickly. She doused the candle and the wand and walked to the kitchen on unsteady feet, eating an apple while digging out the ear buds she'd found in the bazaar months earlier. She finished her snack on the sofa, turning the player over in her hand. The buzz of energy from it murmured to her. That was still no guarantee, though. Sometimes things were too far gone to be recharged. Sometimes she and the Madman couldn't get the spell quite right, or maybe he wouldn't be in the mood to help. There was no telling with that one.

Time to see if it worked. Calla plugged the ear buds into the device, then placed them in her ears. She ran her thumb over the player's surface, hoping. She pushed her will into its wires and waited.

A long moment of silence answered. Then … music. A song exploded from the player, starting halfway through and almost too loud. She jumped from the couch with a squeal of delight.

The music, like the player, was decades old and unknown to her. That didn't stop her from dancing in her living room the rest of the night.

Sometimes the Madman of the Wires helped her with exactly what she needed.

Note: Um, so I hardly ever write flash fiction but I've been trying to figure out how Calla, the witch in my work in progress FreakTown, practices magic. So I decided to play around a little and see what I could come up with. The Madman of the Wires may or may not make it into the final version of FreakTown.

Here's a live version of the song that gets Calla on her feet - link.

Occupy the internet

2012-01-18T13:59:00.000-06:00

The only reason I'm not participating in today's internet blackout is because I don't know enough about coding to feel confident I won't bork my site by tinkering with the template. So I decided to do an awareness type post instead.

A few minutes ago I checked out Twitter and was dismayed to see an author upset with Wikipedia for supporting piracy. I really, really wish that person would educate themselves about what's really going on. No one disputes that piracy and theft are wrong and need to be stopped, but the SOPA and PIPA bills are not the way to do it. Fighting piracy with censorship makes no sense, and that is what these bills would do.

Here's an example of what could happen if these bills become law: for whatever reason, legitimate or otherwise, someone flags my site for pirated content. That's the end of my site, period. No investigation, no oversight, no appeal, no chance to either remove content or prove that I was falsely accused. It's just gone. For someone like me, that would devastate my online presence and therefore my ability to sell my books. For someone hosting torrented material, well, they could probably have another site set up by the end of the business day.

Last night I read an interview on CNN with Wikipedia co-founder Jimmy Wales. The whole thing is worth reading, please take a look. I'd like to point out this paragraph from Wales:

Within our community we're very strong defenders of copyright. We have very strict rules about obeying copyright and we don't link to materials that we know to be copyright infringement. That isn't really the issue. The other side will try to paint this as anybody who's opposed to this must be making money off of piracy or be in favor of piracy. That isn't true. The issue here is that this law is very badly written, very broadly overreaching and, in at least the Senate version, would include the creation of a DNS (domain name system) blocking regime that's technically identical to the one that's used by China. I don't think that's the right way the U.S. needs to go in taking a leadership role on the Internet.

Emphasis mine. This is a perfect example of why people are protesting these bills: the intention of the bills may be noble, but the language and execution are the stuff of First Amendment nightmares. Those of us who are protesting and signing petitions do not support piracy at all. What we do support is a free and open UNCENSORED internet. A better written bill, with much more targeted language, would have my support and no doubt the support of most of both the internet and the creative community. SOPA and PIPA would do far more damage than good and if enacted we would not recognize the internet left in their wake. But apparently China would. Does the United States of America, a country with freedom of speech enshrined in our founding documents and woven indelibly into our national DNA, really want to find itself alongside the likes of China and other countries that censor the internet?

I don't think that's what any of us want. Please educate yourself about these issues, let your voice be heard, and most of all, remember this is an election year. A candidate who doesn't believe in the First Amendment is not a candidate worth voting for.

Prep work

2012-01-16T12:00:00.001-06:00

Cross-posted from Write Club.

I've been in a kind of "project limbo" for a while, with most of my writing being on my serial. I had a few ideas kicking around in my head and it looks like I've finally settled on a story. Or perhaps I should say, a story has settled on me. Of course, the one I’m going with is the one I thought I would put off until I felt more ready to handle it.

The working title is FreakTown and it's very different from anything else I've written, except for having magic as the paranormal element. It's futuristic, dystopian, romance, and has a plot straight out of noir. (Somewhere in the story someone is going to say to the main male character, "Forget it, Nate, it's FreakTown." Just because.) I've already done a lot of world-building and written just shy of ten thousand words, and the need for an actual outline has presented itself. Normally I'm a pantser but with the kind of twists and turns I want for this story, an outline is going to be necessary. Right now I'm momentarily paused on the writing so I can work out more plot details. I'm also thinking of doing some characterization exercises so I can have a better handle on my characters, especially the two main ones. By this I mean, opening up a doc and rambling about their background, what they want, what they're afraid of, strengths, weaknesses, and since I relate to music so well figuring out a playlist for each one.

This is going to be the most challenging thing I've ever written. The world-building, the complexity of the plot, the emotional depth - in just about every way, it's going to be harder. At some point, I think you have to do that. You can stay at a level that's comfortable, or you can decide it's time to level up. I can't say if every writer recognizes when it's time to challenge themselves. It wasn't some cosmic signal that told me, you're ready to take your writing to another level. Because I don't know if I am ready. But the desire is certainly there. The desire is very much there. I figure this will either result in a really good book that might actually have some success, or it will blow up in my face and I'll trunk it. Hopefully the former.

Back to the practical. I think that when you're starting a story that you know is going to be really challenging it's a good idea to give yourself a solid base to jump from. All the world-building I've done helps with that and so should the character exercises. It may not sound as romantic as the idea of a writer pouring a story out with no planning, but the truth is I'm tired of not knowing what a book is about until I've written two-thirds of it.

So I'm off to outline my twisty plot and ramble about my characters.

Reprioritization

2012-01-12T09:00:00.001-06:00

Well I was going to try to get back onto a blogging schedule of Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, but it's just not working. So I'm not going to fight it. I'll post when I have something to post and not worry about a schedule. It's part of my overall shift in priorities that's going on right now.

Writing still is and always will be a priority, but blogging is something that I'll only do when I have the time and energy. There are major changes taking place in my personal life. I wasn't sure if I'd talk about it here on the blog but I see no real reason not to, so here's my big news: I'm pregnant!

Right now I'm at 13 weeks and I'm hoping once I'm into the second trimester I'll feel better and have more energy. The nausea has already started to slack off, which is awesome. All the planning and getting ready for the baby is mostly exciting and fun with a side order of terrifying. Sometimes I have these moments where I think "we're having a baby!" and then I can't think anymore for a few minutes because my brain has frozen. So posting will be pretty random for a while, probably the whole year.

To help me focus on keeping Bradbury going I made a Facebook page for it where I'll post extras, playlist songs, previews, whatever. Mostly for my own amusement, honestly, like the Bradbury stories themselves, but hopefully a few of the serial's readers will enjoy the page too. Go give it a like for me!

I'm also looking forward to working on edits for Red House, the second Mojo book. The release date for that is November 5. I can't wait to find out what my editor thinks of the events of the story and a new character in particular, one named after a great old blues song.

And I need to commit to my next big project. I've been tinkering a little but there hasn't been a whole lot of writing as I've been enjoying all these lovely first trimester side effects. One of the things I'm trying to do right now is not pressure myself, not worry about sales, not worry about the number of releases I have available or on deck, not let publishing give me stress. One of the great things Bradbury has done for me is help me remember why I started writing in the first place and what I love about it. I want to focus on that more than the stuff that gives me stress.

Reading goals

2012-01-09T18:00:00.001-06:00

Cross-posted from Write Club.

I love having a lot of books, but there are just too many dead-tree books in this house. Last year I did a major culling of the herd but I think I'll have to do it again. We've got books that were read once, placed on a shelf, and never read again. Those are the ones that need to go. I don't mind keeping keeps that are loved, that are likely to be read again.

In fact this year I'd like to re-read some of my favorites. Several times I've thought I need to re-read the Dresden Files series but I never get around to it. I've also got a lot of books in the To Be Read pile that I need to get to finally. Some of those have been sitting around for a shamefully long time.

I have a ridiculous number of books on my Kindle that were offered as freebies that I still haven't read. Some of those I might not finish. That happens with the freebies sometimes. But sometimes you discover an author and/or a series you really like, well enough to spend money on. I've had that happen, too.

Every year Goodreads has a reading challenge where you can set a goal for how many books you want to read. I did that last year but I'm not going to do it this year. This year, my reading goals are not about numbers but about putting a dent in that TBR pile and enjoying some good stories.

Do you have any reading goals for the new year?

A drink with Xan Marcelles

2012-01-07T10:03:00.000-06:00

Earlier this week I had the chance to read Blood and Fire (you can read my review here), the latest collaboration between Carrie Clevenger and Nerine Dorman. Carrie's half of the collab is her signature character, vampire Xan Marcelles. Xan will be the star of his own novel later this year when Crooked Fang is released in August, a book that is on my must-have list. Carrie offered me the chance to have a drink with Xan and I couldn't resist. He knocked back some whiskey, I nursed a glass of milk, and we talked music, vamp life, and well mostly music.

You play bass in a cover band called Crooked Fang. What was it like the first time you played a bass? And what was it like the first time it actually sounded like music? Cos unless you're a prodigy that probably wasn't the same day. ;)

I got the bass as a gift from my dad as a teen. He thought that since I liked music so much, and since I couldn’t play sports in school no more, that maybe playing the guitar might serve as a good distraction. But it wasn’t a guitar, it was a bass. Leave it to my dad to figure that a “bigger guitar” would suit me better because of my size. Still, I kept the thing, a black Fender P-Bass, fiddled around with it, and sucked at it for a while as you can imagine.

My best friend Scott had guitars and actually knew how to play them, so he worked with me to figure it out, and after a while, I think I got those two chords down right (bass joke). Say maybe a little over a year before I sounded like…anything?

Speaking of jokes, got one for you:

A man gives his kid a bass guitar for his birthday, along with some accompanying bass lessons. When the boy returned from his first lesson, the dad asked him what he learned that day.

The kid replied, “I learned the first five notes on the E string.”

The next week, dad asked him the same thing.

The kid replied, “I learned the first five notes on the A string.”

The third week, the kid comes home really late, smelling of beer and cigarettes. His dad asked him angrily what the hell happened to his bass lesson.

The kid grinned and replied, “I couldn’t fit my lesson in because I had a gig!”

What kind of music does Crooked Fang cover? Give us an idea of a typical set on a good night at Pale Rider.

Truthfully? Radio hits. Rock, true, but still shit people have heard of, else they’ll get all confused and might not come back again. Serv has one hell of a range so we can hit Stone Temple Pilots, Staind, Chevelle, a little Nirvana (doesn’t even compare to the real thing though) and maybe some classic rock. Aerosmith, Ozzy, Deep Purple, shit like that.

As with most cover bands that have a clue, we like to make the songs our own. Just getting up there and mimicking a tune doesn’t make you a musician, it makes you a parrot. A really bad one. I think that over the past couple of years, we’ve gelled as a band and read each other pretty damned well.

So I did some stalking, er, research, and I found out you were born in 1958. What's your background? How do you manage to not look a day over 27? ;)

Well, I figure you know my secret already, right? I look twenty-seven because that’s the vampire thing. Actually I was two days away from twenty-eight, to get technical. It’s a weird combination because I look like some punk ass kid, think like an old fart, and come off looking like an asshole in the long run. It’s always fun to slip something about back then, and check the looks on my friends’ faces. But then again, I have “fake” fangs, right? I gotta be weird in the head anyway.

May I run my fingers through that gorgeous long hair of yours?

Haha, sure sweetheart.

Okay, now that I got that out of my system back to the interview. So, you're a vampire, yet you seem neither sparkly nor broody. What up with that?

Sparkly vamps are new to me. I kept hearing about them and finally looked them up on Google, lost interest, and decided to repaint the storage room instead.

Broody…you know, I still don’t get that term. I mean by definition, yeah I am broody, more like “moody” but I don’t let that rule me. That and drinking kind of helps chase off those deep thoughts, woe-is-me shit, and the like.

Sure, I reminisce. There was a point in my life when I was happy, had it all, even a girlfriend I planned to marry. I was a punk and never got to ask her. She had no idea. And then...this happened, so talk about impeccable timing. Lost chances, missed opportunities. What can you do? Cry about it for twenty years? Wall up and be a complete miser? I figured I’d do what I could to be content, if not happy.

Are you one of those "slay the evildoer" types? Because if so I've got a list of deeply offensive bands the world could do without. *coughNickelbackcough*

Actually, I’m retired from that business, and I wouldn’t exactly call it “slaying evildoers.” More like money for services. Not those kind of services, but you know, the kind that resulted in one less bloodsucker on the planet.

As for Nickelback, why bother? Yeah, there’s a lot of stuff out there I don’t like, doesn’t mean the rest of the world don’t like it. Besides, they’re making money, so really it’s up to the listeners to put their wallet where their mouths are and stop buying dumb shit.

Give us some examples of music you enjoy that might surprise people. Got any boy band albums hidden away? Top 40 country? Twee emo?

Lady, I like a lot of different kinds of music. From 40s swing, to 50s doo-wop, 60s tree-hugging let’s-all-get-along shit, to 70s disco. Even the 80s. The 80s are particularly close to me because that was my era. There were some rad one-hit wonders and some bands you still have today. It’s obvious that music evolves as the decades pass.

So, that said, here’s a list of my more surprising picks:

Squirrel Nut Zippers
Aretha Franklin
Belinda Carlisle
Dead Milkmen
Johnny Cash
Roy Orbison
Fats Domino
Dean Martin
The Ink Spots
Patsy Cline
Louis Prima
Depeche Mode

This isn’t by far even a drop in the bucket of my collection, but you get the idea.

That is an awesomely eclectic list. Who is your greatest musical influence?

Jimi Hendrix. Why? Because he did things to that guitar that should be illegal in 31 states. He came up out of nothing, playing a broom like it was a guitar as a kid. He scared big names, intimidated the labels, and the world is a darker place for not having seen what he would do next.

I guess with being a vampire and all you get around in the supernatural world - what's the weirdest thing you've come across so far?

Well I’ll go a little farther. Weirdest? Blood sucking vampires. They are fucking freaks I tell you. The most annoying thing? Dead people. They never shut the hell up and you can’t get away from them. Anything else would be a spoiler for Pale Rider (book after Crooked Fang). [grin]

Everybody has a song that sums them up just about perfectly - what's yours?

The song I keep going back to is Danzig’s “Blood and Tears” but there’s roughly a couple dozen I strongly identify with. Most of Hendrix, really digging The Black Keys, Roy Orbison. All of them are fifty times more eloquent than me with the word-making.

Thanks for having me over for a drink Sonya, appreciate having your pretty face to keep me company tonight.

**

A vampire bass player ... now you know why I read everything with Xan I can get my hands on. Check out Blood and Fire ->

Bassist and all-round slacker Xan Marcelles spends his nights at a remote tavern in Pinecliffe, Colorado. But there’s something else, he’s also a vampire, and although he reckons he has a handle on this secret, he’s not prepared for the day when people he thinks are the FBI drug him and haul him away

Ashton Kennedy isn’t human anymore and, as a member of a race of beings known simply as Inkarna, exists through the aeons by stealing bodies. At first his mission seems simple enough: break into the stronghold of a rival Inkarna House and liberate an artifact. He doesn’t bank on discovering a vampire, bound and tucked away neatly in a sarcophagus.

The two unlikely allies are thrown together in a house of mysteries, and have to battle overwhelming odds against an implacable enemy. The question is, can they overcome their differences long enough to make it out alive, or undead?

Available at Amazon.

Also check out an earlier collaboration between Carrie and Nerine, a free teaser called Just My Blood Type (it's awesome too).

Xan and Carrie

And more linky goodness:

The Crooked Fang website

Crooked Fang Facebook page

Nerine Dorman Facebook page

Nerine on Twitter

Carrie on Twitter

Xan on Twitter

My thanks to Carrie, and Xan - *raises glass* - here's to you, babe.

My Bradbury experiment

2012-01-02T16:06:00.001-06:00

Cross-posted from Write Club.

Self-publishing is something I've had mixed feelings about so I decided to try it and see what my opinion was after the fact. Basically, I still have mixed feelings about it, ha.

I think that self-publishing is something a writer can do in addition to the various types of more traditional publishing, like the Big Six large houses and small press houses, many of which are now digital. Maybe you've got the rights back on backlist titles and want to get them out there, or maybe you decided to experiment with something that might not be a good fit with a publishing house. Or maybe, like me, you just want to try it and see what it's like.

My main interest was in actually putting the book together so when I finished the first volume of my serial The Bradbury Institute I decided to put it up on Smashwords and Kindle. It's becoming increasingly popular for free serialized works to be self-published at low prices and I think it's a great way for a fan of the serial to have a copy on their ereader. I used the Smashwords style guide and had no problems with formatting. The most important thing I did, other than following the directions carefully, was to start out with a clean document. To do that you have to nuke your Word doc, meaning you use Select All to copy it, paste that into Notepad or something similar what will strip the formatting, then paste than clean version into a brand new document. Next you go back through it and add all your formatting - font, tabs, italics, the works. It's a bit tedious but not hard. Thanks to starting with a clean doc and following the directions, The Key of Darkness qualified for Smashword's premium catalog, which means it was distributed to Barnes and Noble and other outlets. To upload it to the Kindle store I followed their directions, which mostly meant using Mobipocket Creator, which was easy. The main thing with this is attention to detail - you can't skip steps and you don't want to do them out of order. If you can handle that, you can format your ebook.

Of course I did have another writer help me with editing. The only thing I would do differently is the cover, but I can't afford to hire a cover artist so that's not something I can do differently. I'm not expecting to make any money from this and I'm not sure how long I'll leave it up for sale, or if I'll offer the second volume for sale. I can't offer any thoughts on promotion because I haven't done any - between the holidays and some things going on in my personal life, I haven't had the time or the inclination. Promotion hasn't much worked for my books anyway, to be honest.

So all in all, I did enjoy the process of putting the file together but this is not something I would want to do for every book I write. I like having a publishing house behind me. There is no way I could afford to hire an editor or a cover artist and promotion and marketing is surely one of Dante's levels of Hell. But for making the volumes of my serial into ebooks, it's fun. Which is what I was going for, and that's really the first thing you want to ask yourself before you do something like this: why am I doing it and what do I hope to get out of it? I wanted to do this so that if any Bradbury readers wanted the stories on their ereaders they could get them, and I wanted to learn how to create an ebook. Mission accomplished!

If you'd like a free copy of The Key of Darkness, email me at sonya @ sonyaclark.net with "Free Bradbury" in the subject line, and let me know what format you'd like - epub, pdf, or kindle/mobi.

Goals for 2012

2011-12-28T07:05:00.000-06:00

First, a look back at my goals for 2011.

Well, I didn't do so well with those. I did finish Red House, got it submitted, and it was accepted. I have not started Mojo 3 though I do have some ideas.

As for Paranormal Beat - ugh. I've tried repeatedly to rewrite that but I can't get anything I'm satisfied with. Anymore all I really want to do with it is salt it and burn it. This story may never see the light of day again.

Bradbury wasn't on my radar this time last year. It's been a bright spot for me this year, writing-wise. It kept me writing when otherwise I might have stopped and I've enjoyed it immensely. It doesn't have a very big following but I do think some of the people that are reading it are enjoying it, so that's good. I plan to keep going with it as long as it's fun.

What else do I hope to do in 2012? Um. I have no idea. Mojo 3, for one thing. I have ideas for other stories that I'll need to make a decision about, as far as what I want to work on first. Because of the difficulties I've had with Paranormal Beat I am very hesitant about starting and then pitching a new series. Very. Hesitant. One of the ideas I have in my Plot Bunny folder is a stand-alone and I've already done quite a bit of world-building and a couple of chapters on it, but to be honest I don't think I'm ready to commit to this particular project. It would be a very intense and demanding project and right now I just don't have the emotional wherewithal to handle that. (Please save any well-meaning encouragement, I have a very good personal reason to not want to write about a crappy future right now.)

The other idea I have is for a trilogy involving magic-wielding vampire hunters and vampires that are actually evil. Shocking, I know - who ever heard of vampires that weren't brooding romantic heroes? If you think that means there wouldn't be a brooding romantic hero in the story, never fear. My magicians are always smokin' hot. Anyway, this one is looking like a likely suspect because it's something I could have fun with.

Having fun writing is really my ultimate goal for the coming year. Red House was a hard slog and Paranormal Beat nearly made me give up writing, so except for Bradbury it hasn't been a good time this year. The serial has really been a gift from the muse or the universe or whatever, and I am grateful. I'd like to take that feeling, that sense of fun and the joyride of storytelling, to something that I might submit. After all, that's what got me into this in the first place.

Whatever your goals are for the coming year, I wish you the best of luck with them. Here's to a good 2012!

Happy Holidays!

2011-12-21T14:22:00.000-06:00

For me, it's just not the holidays without Robert Earl Keen.

Happy Yule, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Giftmas, Festivus - whatever you celebrate this time of year, I wish you glad tidings and joy!

Some Cavill for your Wednesday

2011-12-14T09:00:00.003-06:00

I'm not feeling well today and all I have to report that's post-worthy is that there's a new chapter of Bradbury up, in which Eve learns about the Gateway Forest. To make up for my lack of a real post, I offer you Henry Cavill.

I have no idea if he'll be a good Superman or not, but he's certainly nice to look at.

Writing a sequel

2011-12-12T16:00:00.001-06:00

Cross-posted from Write Club.

When I reached the end of Mojo Queen I had some vague ideas about a sequel and kind of wanted to turn it into a series, but I wasn't sure how to do that. I still don't, but I'm writing this post anyway.

First, a disclaimer: I really don't know what I’m doing and you'd be better off taking advice from someone who does. Because honestly, the more I write, the more I am convinced I really, seriously don't have a clue what I'm doing. But Carrie Clevenger asked me on Twitter about my thoughts on this whole sequel business a while back, so here we go.

In your first book, you establish a world and even more importantly, you establish your main characters. Who are they, what are they about, what do they want, what are they willing to do to get it? Not only did you ask those questions but in the course of your plot you answered them. But that first book didn't tell you their whole story, otherwise you wouldn't be writing that sequel, now would you?

One of the things we do to explore what our characters are made of is something I call escalation. This is basically when you throw your character into the frying pan and have them struggle their way out. And then once they're out of the frying pan, you throw them into the fire. If you're writing a short story you do this once. If you're writing a full length novel, you and your characters might as well get used to being crispy. I think escalation works whether you're writing a stand-alone, the first in a series, or a sequel. What might change from book to book is the nature of the fire.

In Mojo Queen the nature of the fire Roxie was fighting was external. She was contracted to help in a case of demon possession. It wasn't a personal issue. It got personal as she and Blake developed an attraction for each other, but even with that budding relationship it was still just a case for Roxie.

In Red House, the second Mojo book, things are different. Roxie is still hired to work a case, a haunted house this time, but her perspective is different. Roxie has lost her home in a catastrophic flood and her entire life feels adrift and unmoored. Hurt badly by her inability to save her own home, she is determined to save her clients' home, even if she has to go deeper into hoodoo and magic than she ever has before. Because, ahem, this time it's personal.

This time it's more than just plot escalation that's necessary, it's character escalation. By changing the nature of the fire - from an outer conflict to a more inner conflict - the stakes have been raised considerably. Roxie's heart is on the line as she struggles to figure out where she and Blake stand with each other, her sense of self-worth is on the line as she struggles with her abilities with magic, her sense of stability is on the line as she faces having lost her home. With Maple Hill, the haunted house of the title, acting as a stand-in for her own home and other things, everything has become personal for Roxie.

The most important thing about a sequel is getting deeper into your main character. This is their story, after all, and each book is part of their story arc. Part of their journey, if you will. The farther along they get in their journey, the more difficult things should get. The rewards should also be greater too - don't forget that part.

So -> Escalation. Raising the stakes. Getting deeper into your main character's heart and soul. That's really all I've got as far as sequels/series go. I know it's not much but if this is something you're tackling I hope it'll help at least a little. (Further disclaimer: I really had no idea what I was doing with Red House until about two-thirds of the way through. One day I was just, ah, so that's what this is about. I can't outline to save my life.)

Alone under headphones

2011-12-09T09:00:00.001-06:00

So perhaps the truest autobiography I could ever write, and I know this holds as well for many other people, would take place largely at record counters, jukeboxes, pushing forward in the driver’s seat while AM walloped you on, alone under headphones with vast scenic bridges and angelic choirs in the brain through insomniac postmidnights, or just to sit at leisure stoned or not in the vast benign lap of America, slapping on sides and feeling good.

Lester Bangs
Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung

I don’t know how old I was when I first had a music player with headphones. Pretty young, I think. Probably a Walkman, one of the old-school types for cassettes. Remember cassettes? Ha. I probably had a metric ton of cassettes. I loved the privacy of being able to listen to whatever I wanted with headphones. It really is a different experience, listening with headphones. More personal somehow. I would lie in bed in the dark, alone under headphones, and be transported. The crap of the day washed away under a river of music.

It was a habit I continued into adulthood, even once I lived alone and could listen to whatever I wanted without headphones. I guess I liked that more personal connection the headphones helped forge. It’s one thing to play music without being plugged in, the stereo going as I moved about the apartment doing one thing or another. The music is there, part of the background, and you can still feel it and enjoy it. But plenty of times I would still settle in the late evening in a darkened room, either on the bed or the couch or the floor, and put on the headphones. The direct upload, if you will, is so much more immediate. Everything else gradually melts away. All the crap, all your troubles, everything that’s been bothering you, all the tedious things you have to deal with, the little annoyances. It’s all overshadowed by guitars and drums, rhythm and melody. A little time under the headphones and none of the crap that was driving me crazy earlier seems so important anymore, so dire. And much easier to deal with.

Now I have an MP3 player that was a gift from my husband and I like it that it doesn’t bother him if I feel the need to plug in and listen alone sometimes. It’s not just about feeling bad and going for the headphones, either. Plenty of times I’m in a perfectly good mood – I just want the headphones. Okay, technically they’re earbuds these days, but that just doesn’t have the same ring to it. Sometimes I just want to crawl inside the music, let it surround me and move through me. Reaching for the headphones is how I do that.

The Lester Bangs quote above is one of my absolute favorites by any writer, about any subject. There is so much about it I identify with, those three words alone under headphones just one. It sums me up better than anything I could write myself. I’m sure anyone who loves music as much as I do would feel the same.

Put some Black Keys on your MP3 player and you are guaranteed to dance like this guy.

Back to blogging

2011-12-07T16:49:00.000-06:00

I'm back! Probably. Blogging may be a bit hit and miss for a while, due to personal reasons that I'll get into some other time. My goal is to have something writing-related on Mondays (cross-posted at Write Club of course), but frequently writing about writing is not my favorite thing, so, you know. Wednesdays will be some kind of random post, and Fridays will be for music. So let's get random ...

The Bradbury Institute is also back today. Volume Two: Long Night Moon is the new story. Eve will learn the secrets of the Gateway Forest and Pete's past will come back to haunt him. It's going to be a pretty Pete-heavy story, in fact, so if you're Team Pete you should enjoy this one.

After going back and forth about it I finally decided to put Volume One: The Key of Darkness up as a self-published title. If you'd like it for your ereader you can get it for .99 at Amazon for your Kindle, Smashwords has other formats available, and since it qualified for Premium Catalog distribution at Smashwords (that means I did the formatting correctly, yay me!) you can also find it at Barnes and Noble and other places. I've also added it to my Goodreads author page so add it to your list of books if you're on that network. If you do pick it up I'd really appreciate reviews and ratings and likes - you might be surprised how much that stuff means to an author. :)

Here's something I think is really cool: my two other books are now available through the Tennessee Regional eBook & Audiobook Download System. This is how I get library ebooks, so it's the digital equivalent of going to my local library and seeing my books on the shelf. Like I said, very cool. If you happen to be in Tennessee here's the links: Bring on the Night and Mojo Queen. It is indescribably awesome that there are people on the waiting list for both books. If you're in another state, do check out whatever system your local library has for ebooks.

Red House, the second Mojo book, has a release date: November 5, 2012. Pretty soon I need to start thinking about Mojo 3. So far I've got a few very music-centered ideas for a plot. We'll see how it goes.

Blogging hiatus

2011-11-09T09:00:00.001-06:00

The last chapter of volume one of Bradbury - The Key of Darkness - posted today. I'm taking a brief hiatus before starting volume two. Long Night Moon starts on Wednesday, December 7.

I thought about taking an extended hiatus on this blog, until the end of the year. Now I think I'll try to come back on that same day. That's four weeks, should be plenty of time to get some work done on my new project and get more of Long Night Moon written.

During that time I might be on Twitter some but that will probably be the only place. Does anybody actually use Google Plus? Yeah, me neither. That turned out to be a bust. I changed the other one to "Facepalm" in my bookmarks bar, which should tell you what I think of it.

This new work in progress, FreakTown, is tough. Definitely going out on a limb here with this. I made a Tumblr for it to use as a sort of research/inspiration scrapbook, but for now I'm keeping it private. I've decided I want to have twenty thousand words before I give too much detail about the story, and I'm not there yet. Hopefully by the time I come back from this little hiatus I'll have a working blurb I can post.

To those here in the US, have a happy Thanksgiving. Be back in a month!

Author Spotlight: Laura Bickle

2011-11-08T02:00:00.020-06:00

I'm pleased to have urban fantasy author Laura Bickle as a guest here today. Here's a little about Laura:

Laura Bickle has an MA in sociology-criminology (research interests: fear of crime and victimology) and a BA in criminology. She has worked in and around criminal justice since 1997. Although she does read Tarot cards, she's never used them in criminal profiling or to locate lost scientists. She recently took up astronomy, but for the most part her primary role in studying constellations and dark matter is to follow her amateur astronomer-husband around central Ohio toting the telescope tripod and various lenses.

Writing as Laura Bickle, she's the author of EMBERS and SPARKS for Pocket - Juno Books. Writing as Alayna Williams, she's the author of DARK ORACLE and ROGUE ORACLE.

More info on her urban fantasy and general nerdiness is here: http://www.salamanderstales.com/.

Welcome Laura!

What was your initial inspiration for this story?

EMBERS was inspired by the idea of a fire salamander familiar. In EMBERS, the heroine, Anya, has had a spunky fire salamander since she was a child. There's not much out there in the literature about salamanders, and I wanted to explore the possibilities. I made him something of an imp, setting accidental electrical fires in to his surroundings. He loves to chew on cell phones and cuddle with his Glow-Worm toy at night.

Tell us about your favorite scene in the book, without giving too much away of course.

My favorite scenes involved places I'd been...like the Detroit Salt Mine in the climax of the book. There's actually a salt mine that extends underneath the city of Detroit, and made the perfect lair for the dragon granddaddy of all salamanders. Anya and her team of ghost hunters must descend into his lair to keep him from awakening and setting fire to the city on Devil's Night.

What was the hardest part of the book to write, again without giving too much away?

The beginning is the most intimidating part of a book for me to write. The blank page is a scary place, full of doubts. Procrastination is my greatest enemy at that stage.

The easiest part for me is the last quarter of the book. Then, I can see how all the factors come into play and the plot threads begin to tie up. It's sort of like running downhill - exhilarating and exciting.

How long have you been writing and how did you get your start in publishing?

I've been scribbling since I was old enough to hold a crayon. EMBERS is my first published book, followed by SPARKS. It's really a dream come true for me to share stories with readers.

Tell us a little about your writing process. Are you a pantser or a plotter, and if you’re a plotter what method works best for you?

I confess. I'm a plotter. I dislike staring at a blank page, like I said earlier. It's intimidating. I want to have some idea of where I'm going and how I'm gonna get there.

I begin with a high-level outline. A skeleton or scaffolding. As I work through the manuscript, it becomes more detailed. Flesh gets added to the bones. There are ideas that need to be reiterated, loops that need to be closed, threads to tie up. It eventually breaks into a scene-by-scene outline.

That's not to say that I have no serendipities, no flow. I do chase ideas down rabbit holes and find my own little synchronicities. The outline is not sacred - it's meant to be torn apart and reconstructed. But I like having a light in the darkness to show me where I'm going.

What draws you to the urban fantasy genre?

I've always been intrigued by the idea of a hidden supernatural world existing beneath our own. Urban Fantasy allows me to explore the "what if's." I like the fact that it's wide open. I'm not bound by many conventions as far as structure or the ending...UF doesn't require the story to follow a fixed pattern. I can allow the story to unfold and let it be unpredictable as it develops.

Do you need silence while you write or do you listen to music?

I'm a big fan of silence. I'm easily distracted, and I find that I write much faster without the television or music going on in the background. I also have found that I can't write in coffee shops or other busy places for that reason.

Do you put much of yourself into your characters? When you do, does that make it easier or harder to write them?

I think that there's a balance. I like being able to put myself in my characters' shoes to feel what they feel. But I'm also aware that I can't write the same person over and over. They have some characteristics that belong to "me," but other abilities and perspectives that are entirely other.

What’s the most interesting thing you ever learned while doing research for a book, or the most fun you ever had with research?

Research is one of the pleasures of being a writer. And I got to research spontaneous human combustion for SPARKS. I was really amazed at the number of theories about how this works...including the theory of the 'phosphenic fart.' In this idea, digestive gases gather and catch fire in one's digestive tract.

Yeah, I know. Bizarre. But fun to see if I can get the heroine to mention that in the story. And if I can get my editor to laugh, that's an additional bonus.

Tell us a little about your non-writing life. Do you have a day job, hobbies, pets that demand your slavish attention?

I work in a library in my day job, which is a wonderful job for a writer. I get to be surrounded by books ...and it makes the research process so much more convenient!

Please share with us a favorite guilty pleasure that helps you unwind after a long day of writing/revising/editing, whether it’s a decadent food or a strong drink or a cheesy TV show.

Oh, I have many vices: chocolate, Coca-Cola, far too much television... But fuzzy pajamas are my favorite vice, usually preceded by a hot bath. The little pleasures in life are the most joyful, I think.

Thank you for stopping by Laura!

Unemployment, despair, anger--visible and invisible unrest feed the undercurrent of Detroit's unease. A city increasingly invaded by phantoms now faces a malevolent force that further stokes fear and chaos throughout the city.

Anya Kalinczyk spends her days as an arson investigator with the Detroit Fire Department, and her nights pursuing malicious spirits with a team of eccentric ghost hunters. Anya--who is the rarest type of psychic medium, a Lantern--suspects a supernatural arsonist is setting blazes to summon a fiery ancient entity that will leave the city in cinders. By Devil's Night, the spell will be complete, unless Anya--with the help of her salamander familiar and the paranormal investigating team --can stop it.

Anya's accustomed to danger and believes herself inured to loneliness and loss. But this time she's risking everything: her city, her soul, and a man who sees and accepts her for everything she is. Keeping all three safe will be the biggest challenge she's ever faced.

Anya Kalinczyk is the rarest type of psychic medium, a Lantern, who holds down a day job as an arson investigator with the Detroit Fire Department—while working 24/7 to exterminate malicious spirits haunting a city plagued by unemployment and despair. Along with her inseparable salamander familiar, Sparky, Anya has seen, and even survived, all manner of fiery hell—but her newest case sparks suspicions of a bizarre phenomenon that no one but her eccentric team of ghost hunters might believe: spontaneous human combustion.

After fire consumes the home of elderly Jasper Bernard, Anya is stunned to discover his remains—or, more precisely, a lack of them; even the fiercest fires leave some trace of their victims—and she is sure this was no naturally occurring blaze. Soon she’s unearthed a connection to a celebrity psychic who preys on Detroit’s poor, promising miracles for money. But Hope Solomon wants more—she’s collecting spirits, and in a frantic race against time, Anya will face down an evil adversary who threatens her fragile relationship with her lover, her beloved Sparky’s freshly hatched newts, and the wandering souls of the entire city.

A big challenge

2011-11-07T11:00:00.001-06:00

Cross-posted from Write Club.

The year is winding down but I find myself busier than ever right now. I've started the second volume of my paranormal serial and I've started a new and very challenging work in progress. This new WIP has already required a lot of world-building and I've realized there is more yet to do. I have to create a magical system: elements, correspondences, tools, basic spells. Pretty much the whole shebang. I've never done this before and I am both intimidated and excited by the prospect. Normally I write about existing systems, like hoodoo in the Mojo series. Coming at magic from a different angle, specifically not nature-based, is going to be, well, challenging.

This new WIP is going to have me using that word a lot, challenging. Sometimes I think I might be taking on something too big for me to handle. The story and the characters mean a lot to me though, and I want to write this book. Sometimes we don't find out if we can do a thing until after we've done it.

So I've got some reference materials ready, a spiral notebook waiting to be filled, and a few vague ideas about alternatives to the old standbys of earth, air, fire, and water. This should be fun!