Survivor’s guilt

So it’s been 17 years. Babies that were born after their parent died will be graduating this year. Last year, most of them probably started driving. Next year they’ll be adults.

Me? I kinda forgot.

It’s not 100% my fault. I mean, I’ve had the last three and a half days off work. The date escaped me. I didn’t mean to forget. But I forgot.

I wasn’t too terribly affected by the tragedy. Yeah, the news of it woke me from a sound sleep. I stared dumbfounded at the TV as one tower went down, then the other. My jaw gaped as the Pentagon got hit. My mind was blown.

I didn’t personally know anyone affected by the attacks then. (My husband, who I met nearly 8 years ago, was stationed on a ship in the Persian Gulf on that fateful day.) I was isolated, safe and sound in my parents’ house in northern Alabama. New York, DC, and Pennsylvania were, like, forever away. They were concepts. Places I’d passed near or driven through. Not real.

So why do I feel like a total jerk for forgetting? If I didn’t know anyone affected and wasn’t there, why should I remember? Does this make me a selfish, unfeeling, insensitive, unpatriotic so-and-so? Maybe. But maybe not.

Wanna know what story from the days and months after touched me the most? It was one I read I want to say in Newsweek, but it could have been elsewhere; it was the story of a seeing eye dog who guided people out of the building when the smoke blinded and terrified them.

That dog is, more than likely, long since dead, as are all the search-and-rescue and cadaver-sniffing dogs that touched me when I saw them crying on the news.

Yeah. I was more emotional hearing about the rescue dogs whose feet were getting cut up on debris as they searched for life where there eventually was none left than I was about the families who lost that life. Dogs. Not people. What’s wrong with me?

Probably nothing. It’s probably just a thing. I didn’t know anyone affected, like I said, so the whole thing was distant to me. I shouldn’t expect myself to be saddened by the date. I’m holding myself up to standards that have been set by a media-hyped society. Everything’s IN YOUR FACE, so everything should affect everyone…right?

One of these days I’ll stop feeling guilty at not feeling guilty. I’ll stop chiding myself for forgetting. 

One of these days.

But not today. Not just yet.

Off the cuff

A little break from writing lately as I dive into an embroidery commission for Their Royal Majesties of Atenveldt.

Yeah, I know. It’s annoying when people do that. But what can I say? It’s the highest-profile embroidery I’ve done yet, and even more so because they’ll be wearing the garments at an out-of-kingdom event. So no pressure, right?

Actually, I’m not feeling too bad on the pressure front this time around. It’s all straightforward designs that I picked out (that Their Majesties approved, of course), and I’m not actually assembling the garb–just embroidering the pre-cut pieces I was given.

His Majesty saw one of the cuffs I was working on the other day and really liked what I had done. Her Majesty saw me working on it as well, but she was preoccupied with other things and I didn’t want to be “that guy” who’s sticking their latest project in her face for praise. (His Majesty sought me out specifically for seeing what I was doing, so that’s different. Lol)

I should be done by the end of the weekend, then it’s back to the writing board. 🙂

Death of 1000 bites

Monsoon season seems to be running a tad long this year in southern Arizona, as is evidenced by the hordes of mosquitoes that were in my tent the other night at an SCA event. Thank the Gods the event was just forty-five minutes from home, and thank the Gods that I’ve somehow managed to maintain my sanity despite the itching on over about 75% of my body.

It started with just a couple of bites. Okay, fine. No big deal.

Then I went to bed in our tent.

A couple of bites turned into half a dozen. Half a dozen turned into a dozen. I tried covering up with my sleeping bag but, as is common in early September in southern Arizona, it was too damn hot to cover up. So I’d put out a foot or an arm or my head to cool off a bit and almost immediately get attacked again.

This went on for a couple of hours before my husband returned to the tent from hanging with friends and declared he was taking me home for the night.

I didn’t complain. By that point, I had a good twenty mosquito bites spread out over most of my body.

Once home, a hot shower, Benadryl, and some hydrocortisone cream helped, but I still itched. At least I wasn’t getting fresh bites, though.

I can’t say the same about the second day of the event.

Despite wearing long pants and long sleeves, I somehow managed to receive another twenty-something bites the second day of the event. On my shoulders. Under my bra. Between my toes. On my fucking ass. 

I’m trying not to scratch; I really am. Sometimes, though, I find myself scratching without realizing when I started to.

My Benadryl supply is running short. I should probably take more now that I’m up, but I fear that with my luck I’d use the last dose and promptly get stung by a bee. That’s the way it works, right? Murphy and his stupid law.

Sadly, though there is a rapier tournament later today, I don’t think I’m going back to the final day of the event–75% might turn into 95%, especially if I’m all sweaty from fighting in the heat. Those little flying fuckers really love sweat. 

Oh well. Staying home means I can write or embroider or something. I have a project for His Majesty of Atenveldt that is nearing completion–well, the first part of the project is nearing completion. There is another piece I need to get from the artisan who is making the garment (my potential future Laurel), plus some pieces for Her Majesty that also need embroidery.

Speaking of which, I should probably get to finishing the second cuff while I’m thinking about it.

Just can’t be scratching my bites with the needle.

The books come marching, one by one

It’s begun! People have started posting pictures of their copies of Abnormal online!

Okay. One person has. Still… That means shipping is in effect, books are arriving at mailboxes and doorsteps, and people are going to start reading.

There’s one person in particular who I admit I am more anxious to hear their opinion than others (though everyone’s opinion on the book matters)…

A NYT bestselling author told me that she bought my book.

That’s right. Darynda-fucking-Jones. Yeah, she might not get to it for a wile, but she bought my book. Didn’t ask for a free copy, she bought it. I was fangirling for half a day over this.

It’s pretty cool to know that people are buying my book, that they’re starting to get it in their homes, that they’re starting to read it.

This has been one amazing journey, and it’s only going to get better. 🙂

Back in action

The other day I started Book 3 of the Abnormal series, and I’m stoked to get the story down.

Clare didn’t get to get much badassery done in Book 2, so I’m hoping to advance her character in different ways with Book 3. Sure, she had character development in Book 2, but I want her to be able to hold her own with the characters that have more physical Gifts, and I think I know just the way.

Now, the above isn’t necessarily what Clare looks like, but you get the idea. (Photo courtesy of Pixaby images, from the WordSwag app.) I want her to be badass, and not just mentally. Don’t get me wrong; she’ll still have faults. You gotta give your MCs faults or else they get boring. But yeah, a little more ass-kicking will do her some good.

First, though, I have to get her out of her current predicament. It’s not too hairy, nothing I can’t write my way out of, but I have to get through it before I can jump into stuff that happens later. I’m just not one of those writers who can jump ahead a few chapters or write the ending first. I have to go in order, at least with the first draft, and then if later drafts require it I can add chapters in between.

Book 2 is near-ready for alphas now. I just have a couple people who either need to A- read Abnormal first or B- finish current projects. I probably won’t get Book 3 done before the alpha reads come back, but that’s okay. Book 2 is technically priority right now, but it’s at a point where I can’t look at it anymore or else I’ll go crazy. Well, crazier

I’m debating on cutting back on SCA-related events and projects here soon. I’ve just got so much to do with my writing, and I’m getting kind of burned out on SCA events. Not that I don’t love my SCAdian family, but I will need a break very shortly or else I’ll be a hot mess. Events every other weekend, or meetings, whatever, gets to be a lot of stuff. I’ll still go to rapier practice when my body’s not angry at me from the arthritis, but I think that taking it easy will be better in the long run. I jumped into the SCA with both feet, right into the deep end, and I am having trouble getting to the surface for air.

Well, back to Book 3. Clare’s in the middle of–well, spoilers. 😉

And then there were three…

Yep, Book 2 is in sleeper mode while I wait for alpha readers to be ready (the one I’ve found so far wants to read Abnormal first, and I don’t blame him), so it’s on to preliminary notes for Book 3. I have at least four to five books total from Clare’s point of view brewing (counting Abnormal and Book 2), with more to come from….well, spoilers. 😉

With Book 2 drafted, edited, revised, and resting, I can now focus on what I want to happen in Book 3. Of course, with the nature of writing, sometimes the characters end up making things happen that you didn’t originally want. That’s why I’m a quasi-pantser; I kindamaybesorta outline a bit, but basically I’m winging it. Let the characters do what they do, and just try to keep up with them.

Once the sun comes up (which will be quite some time away yet), I’ll have SCA illumination assignments to work on. I’ve procrastinated enough with all this book work, and I can’t just wait until the last minute. A couple of scrolls to trace and paint, then I can get back to whatever I was doing. Living in the past, writing in the future. It’s how I roll.

The book release parties went pretty well. Despite few interactions on the “virtual” party, the numbers for my Facebook author page skyrocketed. I need to work on a plan of action to keep those numbers up and to keep my followers engaged–and to have more people following.

Twitter has taken off as well, with more followers, more likes, and more comments. Several people have expressed interest in reading Abnormal, which has me beyond excited because the majority of my Twitter followers are people I don’t personally know. Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate it when friends and family are willing to buy or support the book, but when strangers do it it’s kind of invigorating. Gets the ol’ writer’s blood pumping.

My first review is up, and so far I’m at five out of five stars. The reviewer friended me on Facebook earlier to tell me how much he enjoyed Abnormal, so I knew I’d be getting a good review, but still it’s nice to see those five yellow stars all lined up in a pretty row.

Off to work on Book 3 now, because an author’s work is rarely truly done. 😉

Live and direct

The link for the paperback is live at Barnes and Noble!

That’s right, booksmellers, your chance to own Abnormal is up for online order! So far (and it is still early in the day) it’s just for the paperback, but the hardcover link will be available soon.

I am beyond excited. I want to thank the crew at RhetAskew Publishing for their help, encouragement, support, and confidence in this project. Emma, Mandy, and Dusty are amazing!

I’d gush more, but I’m starving and it’s almost breakfast time. More to come as I get more info!