Tag: magic

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book euphoria and book drop

There really isn’t anything quite like a new book release for the endorphins, other than that first review. On the flip side, there isn’t anything quite like the drop after the release is done and you need to move on to the next.

It’s been a ride getting Thanátou out into the world. I love the characters so much and I’m thrilled that they now live somewhere other than my head.

But then comes book two. Mörderin was close to ready to go when I got my final edits for Thanátou and has been submitted to my publisher. The third book, Hêalic, is ready for editing. Book four, title undecided, is in its infancy and I really need to refocus efforts on that this weekend.

The problem? Well, my head is still really wrapped up in book one and promo work. Writing and editing a book is only one step in the process. The real work, at least for me, is what comes after. I’m not great at self-promotion and have to overcome some crippling imposter syndrome to thrust myself and my book into the public eye.

Not helping matters in the slightest is the need to continue working the day job, which is calling my name right now with a need to get busy. I guess it’s time to finish this cup of coffee and get on with it. With any luck, I’ll be able to shake off the book drop feeling and get some writing and/or editing done this weekend.

Happy Friday, Readers!

Photo by Jaredd Craig on Unsplash

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yuletide blessings

I am, admittedly, not the most devout and practicing Pagan, aside from Samhain, which has always been my favorite holy day. But today marks the Winter Solstice, the start of the twelve days of Yule.

I’ve always loved a good fire, and in ancient tradition, the Yule fire burned for twelve days. This can be looked at as a sort of sympathetic magic, meant to encourage the sun to move forward and lengthen the days because, on the Winter Solstice, the Celts (and others) believed that the sun stood still.

From the Summer Solstice, the days grow shorter until we reach the Winter Solstice. This is the dark time of the year, but from this day forward, the days grow longer and the nights shorter until we complete the cycle at the Summer Solstice.

The Yule log isn’t the only sympathetic magic we engage in at this time of year. Those lights we hang on our trees, porches, eaves…that all started the same way. Drive out the dark, entice the sun to return. And that feast? Back in our pre-Christian, pre-electricity days, we had to squirrel away food from the harvest to get us through the winter, but by Yule, we know the spring is coming, and with it, the earth will once again bear fruit. So we eat heartily as a way of trusting that we will plant again and harvest again.

I don’t want this to turn into a diatribe about stolen traditions…or even stripping those traditions of their original meaning/purpose. I want to celebrate, because gods know this year could use a little celebration.

I don’t have a fireplace, but if I did, there would be a fire burning in it. Instead, I will light candles and wish for spring.

Whether you celebrate Yule, Christmas, Hannukah, or some other holiday this time of year, I hope it brings you joy, the comfort of home, the love of family, and blessings for the coming days, Readers.

Photo by Nathan Lindahl on Unsplash

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the art of the heart

How does one sum up a weekend like this one? Every time I try, my mind fills with a kaleidoscope of images that cover a spectrum of beautiful faces, bright colors, book covers, poetry and prose, rainbow hair and amazing costumes.

It seems strange to me that I haven’t always known these people, that it has only been 5 years since my first Sirens conference.

Every year I am able to come to Sirens, I learn new things and I meet new friends. Inspiration abounds, whether it comes in the form of one of the panels / papers, or in a conversation with friends, or one of the Guest of Honor speeches.

So many artists, with so many kinds of arts! Not just writers…we have people who paint and draw and crochet and knit and cross stitch (and other fiber arts). This is most evident on Saturday night at the Sirens Ball, where participants are encouraged to dress for the theme, and the silent auction tables are filled with amazing prints, jewelry, wood working, clothing, scarves and more.

I have a good amount of imposter syndrome when I walk in (and at other times), but it usually melts with the first hug from a fellow author who’s work I adore. This year I forced myself out of my agoraphobic paralysis and actually had conversations with our Guests of Honor (and they were all lovely).

There is beauty in a place that not only accepts you for who you are, but embraces you for it, where you are free to be entirely and unapologetically yourself. Where your beauty is not defined by the size of your body or the shape of your face…where we paint the landscape around us with the art of our hearts and revel in our resistance to the mundane.

But all good things must end, and I have already dropped folks at the airport, checked out of the hotel and am waiting for it to be time to drop my luggage. Then, I will find a place where I can plug in my charger and do some writing/editing.

Tomorrow we go back to the daily grind, and the beautiful land we created from our imaginations will fade slowly back into just a memory that we can pull out when we need to be reminded that we are wonder and joy and fierce.

Until next year, Sirens…I will keep you in my heart until we meet again.

Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash

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the writing part of writing

Being an author is an odd sort of thing, I suppose, especially to those who are not *people who write* and especially not for those who also do not read. I was a voracious reader as a child. I absorbed words like a sponge. Stories were vehicles that transported me out of my bedroom and into worlds larger than any one mind can conceive.

Maybe it was inevitable that I would pick up a pen and start writing. I wanted in on that magic! I loved creating new worlds, new characters. I wrote science fiction, fantasy, and poetry. I tried my hand at mystery and romance. I studied and tried to emulate my favorite authors. I wanted my prose to be lush and invigorating. I wanted the worlds in my stories to come to life.

For that to happen, I learned, the author needs to spend a good amount of time prior to words hitting the paper. There is world building to do. There are characters to build out so that they are realistic and not just cardboard cut outs. There is plot to invent, stretch, turn, twist and resolve. Inevitably, that plot has holes that need to be filled.

And all of that comes either before or during the actual writing part of the writing process. Okay, sometimes after the first draft is done.

I can spend months (or longer) doing all the stuff that happens in my head before I start writing. My muse loves world building more than anything, so the worlds I see in my head are amazing landscapes of complex societies that I can only hope I capture as I begin to write.

This last weekend saw over ten thousand new words in the second Blood Witch book, signaling an end of the mental block 2020 clamped on my muse and ushering in the period where the words begin to spill from my fingers. It’s the part of the writing process that wants to just devour my life. The story spins out in my head faster than my fingers can translate it to the page, and I am best able in this phase to tune out my inner editor and just get it down.

I maybe feel the most like myself when I’m doing the writing part of writing. Unfortunately for me, today is Monday…and that means a return to the day job, so more word craft will need to wait, though I am hoping to get through this scene before I open the work computer.

I hope you are safe and sane, Readers, and that your week is filled with magic and kindness.

Cover Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

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kindness matters

I was reminded this morning that kindness changes people.  I was already in a pretty good mood as I set out for work this morning…it’s warm enough to not need a jacket, the sun was starting to rise, and I took some time to make myself feel pretty this morning (I put on makeup).

As I reached the BART station, a woman stopped me to tell me how she liked the color of my hair.  I thanked her, and said something nice about her gorgeous red hair and she called me pretty.

It’s been a long time since someone called me pretty.  It felt so nice!  I was grinning as I got on the escalator and headed up to the platform.  As the regulars showed up, I got more compliments, on my jewelry, on my dress…and by the time the train showed up, I was practically glowing.

I didn’t even mind that my feet were bothering me or that my back and knees were complaining.  As I sit here at my desk at work with my first cup of coffee and a to do list 3 miles long, I’m still feeling all warm inside.

It’s the little things, a heartfelt compliment can make a person’s day, change hearts, I’d go so far as to say it saves lives, but I don’t want to be overly dramatic.  Just remember, Readers, kindness matters.  Every day, every hour, every minute.  In all things, be kind.

We can’t know what someone else is going through, what burdens they carry, what hell they’re walking through…take the moment to be kind, because it costs you nothing and as the image above says, kindness is magic.

Wave that wand around, sprinkle that magic over everyone and everything.  Think of it was glitter for the soul.

 

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Photo by Robert Baker on Unsplash