AJ Mullican, Author

Projects aplenty. Time? Not so much.

I’m counting my pending projects in my head, and I’m starting to get a little worried.

Project 1 (a.k.a. the most pressing project): Getting the embroidery done for Their Royal Majesties of Atenveldt before the end of the month. I have a lot to do, but I’m bringing it with to work to do some on my lunch break today, so maybe I’ll catch up a bit?

Project 2 (a.k.a. my latest obsession): Book 3. On chapter 5 now, soon chapter 6, when I had spent months stuck partway through chapter 2. So progress is being made, but it’s still a slow process with the other things going on.

Project 3 (a.k.a. work beckons): Updating and organizing a new laser binder for work, in which I have to make several calls and/or emails in order to figure out which things apply to our office.

Project 4 (a.k.a. they’re really in no particular order): Pending contract on Book 2. Should be coming this week, according to the Editor in Chief. Then, of course, come the edits, and the whole process starts again.

Project 5 (a.k.a. Project Collaboration): The collaborative writing I’m doing with another Askew author, Angelique Jordonna. I’m writing chapter 9 currently, then I hand it back over for her to write chapter 10, then she sends it back and so forth. We’re hoping to finish by the end of the month, but I don’t know….

Project 6 (a.k.a. my own personal made-for-me embroidery project): Yeah, I’d like to get it done by the end of the month, or even before Estrella, but with the royal embroidery still to do that’s not going to happen. 🙁

Project 7 (a.k.a. should probably be Project 2 at this point): Prepping for the beginning embroidery classes I’m teaching at Estrella. I have to print a series of line drawings that people can trace onto stabilizer to embroider on and write up a syllabus/handout to give to the people who show up. I have all the supplies I need, but I have to do the actual prep work now.

Oh yeah, speaking of work….I have to go to that thing today. Again. And tomorrow, and the next day.

Here’s hoping that all the current projects are either done or making progress by, say, the end of March?

Fingers crossed.

Scene Interrupted

#books, #dystopian, #publishing, Novel, Sci-fi, Writing

So there I was, right in the middle of writing a hot ‘n’ heavy scene in Book 3, when all of a sudden our roommate comes home from work.

Mood effectively killed.

There’s something to be said about writing in the wee hours of the morning, especially when my husband is still asleep and it’s just me awake–mainly that there are no distractions, and I can focus on writing what my characters have to say. Not so much when there’s someone else awake, though, especially not when she wants to chat. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t have a problem with chatting when I’m not writing. But if I’m typing along, generally I prefer to be solo…especially with hot ‘n’ heavy scenes.

I can write sex when there are other people in the room; I’ve done it before, and I’ll probably do it again. However, once the mood is gone, I have to stop until I’m alone again and can focus.

One time, while writing Whispers of Death, I must’ve had the weirdest expression on my face as I was writing one of the sex scenes, because my husband asked me if I was okay. I said, “Sure, why?” and he said, “You look sad.” Oops. Not sure how what I was writing translated to “sad” on my face, but whatever. At least I wasn’t blushing or breathing hard or something. Lol

Yeah, my books generally have sex in them. Sex is a thing that happens. Not the kind of sex that happened in Whispers of Death, but there were demons and other extenuating circumstances. I don’t get too gratuitous, I don’t think, and I have toned back considerably. More fade-to-black, less graphic. Not sure how I feel about that, but it’s what my editors prefer.

Slowly but surely, Book 3 is coming along. I have a good, solid start, and as always there will be revisions and edits and what have you to make it more solid. But I’m on Chapter 5 now when I was stuck for months and months on Chapter 2–the beginning of Chapter 2–and things are picking up. I’ve got to watch my time and make sure I get my embroidery projects done, but when it’s the wee hours (and I’m alone…), it’s Writing Time.

I’ve got to dedicate more time to Writing Time–and treat it like a job. This is work that I’m doing, and if I tell myself “X hours of writing” or “Y number of words written” per session, maybe I wouldn’t be so slow. Lol

As far as this particular session, it’s time to take a break and get ready for the day job. That good ol’ 7:30-5 (or whatever the hours end up being on any given day) is calling.

Glimpses of Freedom

#books, #dystopian, Abnormal, Fandom, Novel, Sci-fi, Short Story, Writing

Six months. For six months, Clare sat in the Council Tower penthouse, in a secret room with scant amenities, a prison cell with a four-poster canopy bed. Her only connection to the outside world was the pseudoglass window, which overlooked the city she had once called home.

The Tower was a thing of beauty when viewed from below. Sleek lines of TrueSteel and pseudoglass rose from the ground to disappear into the low-hanging smog that permeated the skies of the city. From above, on clear days, she could see out for miles.

Throngs of people crowded the streets below. People of every size, every shape, every color hustled by. Some stopped to take holophotos of the famed Tower, but she knew they’d never see her in those images. The window, like all in the Tower, was mirrored on the outside.

Her breath left steamy clouds on the pane as she leaned against her window. Sometimes she wrote the names of her lost lovers in the steam and watched as they disappeared from her life again. Breathe. Write. Watch. Cry.

Other times, she allowed herself the luxury of letting her imagination run wild, of picturing herself among the throngs, free from confinement and free to do as she pleased. She traversed the streets with strangers from all walks of life, mingled at parties in the building across the way, perused the shops on the far corner of the only intersection in her line of sight.

She’d never lived in this area of the city. Her upbringing had been humble, quiet, a life lived under the radar because of what she was. Even after the deaths of her mother and stepfather, she tried to adhere to her mother’s teachings, to keep a low profile. Her life was lived in small bars and block parties in the seedy part of town, in places where a single young woman would go unnoticed. She’d never been to the kind of lavish soiree she now watched from her window, but she could imagine.

In her mind, she glided through the crowd of upper-crust Somebodies with a glass of champagne in one hand and a small plate of hors d’oeuvres in the other. She mingled and laughed and conversed, and Eli and Harper were there as well, one on each side, a consort and a courtesan, the two who always ended the evening in her bed, whose warmth kept her safe.

She missed that warmth now. Though the temperature in her room was regulated with the best in thermostatic technology, without Harper and Eli it remained ever cold, always frigid. Goosebumps trailed up and down her arms in the chill.

With a hand on her rigid stomach, she sat in the lone chair and pressed her forehead against the pane. Now she was in the clothier on the corner; she tested the feel of the fabrics: the plush authentic cotton, the sleek NeoSkin, the softest of Truesilk. She tried on pants and corsets and gowns, and her lovers gushed over each outfit.

A glance downward brought her back to reality and reminded her that she wouldn’t fit into a corset again for a while. The baby inside slept while her mother lamented her imprisonment.

Six months without a communique. Six months without word, without knowing if she was remembered fondly or not at all.

In a few months, the baby would be born. Then her captor’s plan would be put into motion. Ezekiel would use her as a brood mare, an incubator, and egg donor for his future child–or children. His grand designs changed from day to day, dependent on how cooperative and compliant Clare behaved. Clare knew she had at least a year before Ezekiel disposed of her–long enough for his heir to be born. If she behaved, maybe a few more.

Until then, Clare had her glimpses of freedom, her gazes out into the city, her imaginary adventures with her lovers.

A Twitch in Time

#bipolar, Depression, Health, Mental Health, Stress, Thoughts

As work gets more hectic and time ticks away to Estrella War–and with it, deadlines–there has been some other ticking of late…a tic in my right lower lid.

I know it’s likely stress-induced, and I know there’s not a whole lot to be done about it, so I’m tolerating it for now. The tic. Not the stress. I’m not tolerating that well at all. Sure, I hide it…sometimes. Sometimes, though, those who know me notice the pause before my response, the gritting of my teeth, the tension in my shoulders.

I bite my tongue. I choose my words with care. I pick my battles. But it’s starting to nip away at the edges. To fray my nerves. To unravel me.

Intellectually? I know I should make an appointment with my doctor. My psychiatrist. I should go and see him and tell him about the high-octane stress and see what can be done pharmaceutically, if anything, to ease some of it. Emotionally? I am afraid. I’m terrified that for the first time in over a decade I’ll have to be taken off work to readjust to new meds, to destress, to recenter myself.

Note I didn’t say I’d have to take time off work; I have no intention of taking time off voluntarily. But I’ve been removed from work by a psychiatrist in the past, and I fear that may be what’s necessary now.

I can’t afford it. I can’t financially afford it, and I can’t afford to leave my duties right now. There’s too much at risk for me to stop. The house. My job. So. Much.

Too. Much.

It’s all too much. And I don’t know what to do.

Split decisions

#books, #dystopian, #publishing, Abnormal, Flash Fiction, Horror, Insomnia, Novel, Poetry, Sci-fi, Short story, Writing

My book, our book, my book, our book…which one should I work on more?

Ideally, I’d have enough inspiration for both books. However, right now Book 3 is eluding me, so I have to get my writing fixes in whenever my co-author sends me her latest chapter. Unfortunately, I have so much inspiration for the collaboration book that it takes me at most a day to write and send back my chapter. Then I’m left for days trying to think up how to progress the story on Book 3.

Splitting my creative energy between two books has proven difficult for me. I don’t know how some authors can work on a multitude of projects at once. I can throw in a short story or poem or flash piece while I’m working on a novel-length project, but multiple novels at once? I guess I’m not that talented. Lol

I’m going to try to get at least a few paragraphs written in Book 3 this morning. I’ve gotta regain momentum on that project, because Book 2 is in edits at the moment, and if I don’t write I’ll go nuts.

My problem is this: I have tons of ideas for further on in the book, but the point I’m at now is stalled. I have to write in order, for the most part. Sure, I can go back in revisions and add a chapter here or there out of order, then change things to make it fit, but writing the story out of order in the first draft? That would just be wrong.

Maybe I’ll retcon some of what I’ve already written and restart that part. I could be moving the plot too quickly, and maybe that’s why things don’t feel “right.” And who knows? Maybe I’ll find my groove again if I just go back and start over from the beginning of Chapter 2. (Yes, I’m that badly stalled.) Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. Back up and restart in a different direction.

Time to get some more coffee and get typing. 🙂

Every which way but where I was scheduled

anxiety, Depression, embroidery, Health, Mental Health, Sewing, Stress, Work

Not even a week after I was “counseled” by a nursing director and the office administrator about the stress I’ve been undergoing lately, I have once again been thrown into the pattern of being dragged all over the office to do my job, others’ jobs, and any job in between they can find for me.

It’s not all the fault of administration or any direct supervisors. It’s a whole crapload of unfortunate events and circumstances, some preventable, some not, that has turned this week into a hellhole.

I’d write more in depth about that, but not only will it not accomplish anything, it would be…hmm, not quite libel, because it’s all true, but not looking good for the place of business I work at should anyone read this who knows where I work. So I’ll just leave it at “it sucked and did nothing to reduce my work-related stressors.”

Home has been better, for the most part, but I must say that coming home–from a trip to the grocery store after a long day at work, mind you–to find out that my husband was headed to Tucson for the evening and I was on my own for dinner may have added to at best exasperation, at worst yet more stress. I can kinda cook when need be, but most of the dishes for the cooking I wanted to do were in the dishwasher, which was running, so I made a salad. At least we had salad makings in the house.

The writing front has been quiet–like, Western-movie, tumbleweeds-bouncing-down-the-road-in-the-wind, crickets-chirping quiet. I’ve just been too consumed with work and embroidery.

Okay, so some of the embroidery has been my own fault. I decided to give myself a new project when I still had an important unfinished one. I have been bouncing back and forth betwixt the two, but I need to buckle down and focus on the more pressing one. The one for me, which I would like to get done before Estrella, will probably end up being a sample piece for the embroidery classes I plan on teaching.

Oh yeah. Those. I have to get the handouts ready and figure out what images I’m going to print for my students to trace onto the water-soluble stabilizer so they can get started on their own projects. There’s that, too.

Some day soon, possibly after Estrella, things will calm down. I’ll be able to sit and relax and not worry about a million little things fluttering around the back of my brain that need to get done.

Right now, though? Right now, I will have to suck it up and soldier on, and I might have to have some more “counseling” before it’s all said and done. Not gonna lie, a few more, er, extreme methods of getting out of work came to mind last night. Nothing that I’m going to attempt, but yeah, the darker thoughts came to the surface, and the urge was strong.

I’m stronger though. I’m stronger than the darkness, and I’ll crawl out of it every time.

Sew obsessed (or, a weekend alone)

#bipolar, #books, #design, #nerd, #publishing, anxiety, Art, Crafting, embroidery, Friendship, Mental Health, Musings, Novel, SCA, Sewing, Stress, Work, Writing

I know, I know, I’ve been a bad blogger. A bad author, even. I took a whole weekend off to myself, and I spent absolutely none of it writing. No blog posts, no Twitter hashtag games, no new progress on my WIP. I basically spent the weekend embroidering, with bits of eating and napping thrown in. I was a lump.

Today I’m back to the “real” world, the world of work and deadlines and what have you. So I’m back, for good or bad, until the next rare weekend off. Today I plan on doing the #amwriting hashtags, I plan on getting ready for work and going in and doing my job. I plan on adulting.

Not much adulting was achieved this weekend. I took some of the trash over to my parents’ house, emptied the dishwasher, put away the laundry….all at the last minute. Oh, and I ate a salad. One salad.

On the plus side, I’ve hardly thought about work at all. This is a good thing, because work is one of the main stressors in my life, and one that I can only do so much about. It’s not like I can take time off of work just to decompress (like I have been with the SCA). I have to go. That’s just all there is to it. Which sucks, because the stress in my life is showing, and one supervisor and an administrator both took me aside at separate times Friday to discuss how stressed I’ve been and how they can help. Fuck. I hate when the bipolar seeps out to where it’s visible. That’s no good.

I did some reading this weekend as well. 1,4,3 by Alicia Sophia, a fellow Askew author. It’s good so far, but I think I’ve come close to figuring out the ending, which sucks because I’m only halfway in. But who knows? Maybe she wrote it that way on purpose as a ruse. I could be surprised after all once I finish.

Lots of rest did my soul good, but I need to put back on the jet pack and hit the ground running today. Gotta work, gotta come home and write or embroider, gotta work on a lesson plan for the embroidery classes I’m going to teach at Estrella, etc etc etc. Got a lot to do, and less and less time in which to do it. Why do I do this to myself again?

I’ve also got the embroidery for Their Royal Majesties to finish before Estrella is over. I kinda was working on my own stuff mostly this weekend. Bad me. Stupid flighty brain. But again, it did me some good. Focus on me, have some “me time” where I’m doing things for myself.

I hope I don’t seem as stressed at work today. I don’t need another supervisor taking me aside and chatting with me about how stressed/distracted I am.

Soon I’ll be back to writing. After Estrella, maybe. Get serious about cranking out Book 3 and that fun collaboration with my Askew author friend Angelique Jordonna. Her book, Dani (which I’ve had the pleasure of reading ahead of release), is amazing, and I know our book will be amazing as well. Just gotta get that first draft out. Lol

Oh! One more thing: I found out that a Laurel was looking at the embroidery I did on my husband’s Viking hood and, from what he says, she seemed impressed, enough so that she said she wanted to talk to me about it. That makes me feel good, because while I did slack a bit on the timing of finishing it, I worked hard on that hood. Plus, it’s a good ego boost when a Laurel is impressed with your work. Here’s a look:

Guess that’s all the update I have. Time to get ready for the ol’ day job. Shower, get dressed, put on some semblance of makeup to pretty-fy myself. That kind of thing.

Oh, wait! I did a live streaming interview/roundtable with some other authors! That was cool af! Here’s the link to the YouTube recording (it’s an hour long, but it’s a fun watch).

Until the morrow, good readers!

Of Little Use

#books, #dystopian, #publishing, Abnormal, anxiety, Celebrity, Depression, Fandom, Interview, Learning, Marketing, Musings, Novel, Promotion, Sci-fi, Social Media, Stress, Work, Writing

Sometimes living in the desert sucks.

Here’s where I’m at right now: I’ve gotten an assignment of sorts from my publisher to look up book venues (bookstores, libraries, etc) that I’d be willing/able to travel to for an event/appearance. There’s a caveat, too: they can’t be any place that I’ve contacted before. My problem? I live in BFE Southern Arizona, where the closest non-used bookstore and/or library that I haven’t already tried is pretty much 20+ miles away…and the majority of what I found is in Tucson, which is 70-90 miles away (depending on where in Tucson it’s at). Most of them, actually, are branches of the Pima County Library. Nearly half of them, in fact (I was told to select 20-30, so I picked the closest 30 bookstores & libraries). And one is 150 miles away.

I understand that I have to get my name (and myself) out there to get Abnormal seen and bought. I get that, I do. But I’m not in the best situation to make it to “out there” unless “out there” occurs on a weekend. Taking time off from the day job is difficult because of our patient load (and because I have quite a few responsibilities there), and I don’t see well enough at night to be driving 40+ miles (round trip) to an unfamiliar location. Then there’s the fact that, unless it’s in a place where I have friends I can stay with, it’s day tripping or a motel, one of which is exhausting and the other of which is expensive.

Let me just say that writing the book is the easy part. Cake compared to the marketing aspect. That’s turned out to consume more of my time and cause more stress than any of the writing/editing/revising did. So if you want to write books (and get them published), start learning now how to market them. I didn’t, and Abnormal has suffered because of it. It’s not beyond “fixing,” but it’s kinda dismal at this point.

Every cloud

#bipolar, Depression, embroidery, Health, Mental Health, Movies, Sewing, Stress, Thoughts, Time

This weekend has been nice. Low-key, home alone, and best of all: not sick as fuck.

I made myself retrospect a little too much, though. I was cruising Netflix, looking for something to watch, when I found a good movie. Silver Linings Playbook. Excellent flick, great acting….and maybe a little too real.

Being bipolar, I feel this movie on a visceral level. No, I’m not quite like Pat. Or Tiffany. Not really. I’ve never been hospitalized for my emotional state, never been that far off. But yeah, I’ve missed work over my mental state before. I’ve obsessed over failed relationships, I’ve written nutball letters/texts/emails to my exes, I’ve been the “backup.” I’ve slept around because my depression had me down, or because my mania had me horny. I’ve quit taking my meds more than once. So maybe I’m bits of Pat and Tiffany. I’m Piffany.

I’ve been doing okay for a while now. Well, mostly okay. I mean, I get depressed sometimes. I get manic. I’ve been on an embroidery kick this weekend, and I’m pretty sure it’s not completely deadline-induced. I’m probably manic. I mean, I’m tearing through these embroidery projects, stopping briefly to eat or go to the bathroom or take a catnap. But mainly I’ve been embroidering. To the point of dry skin and calluses on my fingertips.

The whole Pat thing happened to my brother a few years ago. Not the beating-a-man-almost-to-death thing, but the bad ending to a bad relationship that ultimately resulted in him being committed. I won’t go into it too much here, because it’s his story not mine, but it was scary to watch.

It was even scarier knowing that our great-grandfather died of psychosis. “Exhaustion in the progression of psychosis”–that was the CoD on his death certificate. He was so fucking crazy it killed him.

Since I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder before my brother was, I always assumed that was my eventual fate. Then my brother got diagnosed, and combined with his substance abuse issues he’s way worse off than me. He had his psychotic break in his mid-40s….the same age good ol’ Great-Granddad was when he died.

My brother didn’t die. We’ve got better meds now, better tech, better treatments. But guess what? This year I turn 40. Now, like I said, I’m not as bad off as my brother. So I’m not necessarily on a timeline here. The past doesn’t have to repeat itself. Maybe my brother’s incident was the repetition, and I’ll be passed over. Like the Christian thing. I dunno–I’m not the religious type. But maybe I don’t have to dread my mid-40s. Maybe I don’t have to go go go, to push myself so much, to worry about whether or not I’ll make it long enough to do the things I want to get done.

I want to finish my sci-fi series. I want to finish the collaboration I’m working on. I want to learn more about making garb and clothes and embroidery and get good enough at researching it all to become a Laurel. I want to learn more rapier techniques and practice enough to be good at them. And I want to lose this weight I’ve gained. I want so many things, and I think the back of my brain is telling me “You’ve got a few years left. Five, six max. You need to hurry up. You need to get your shit together while you have the mental capacity to do it.”

I gotta get that out of the back of my head. I gotta tell myself that there’s no deadline to insanity, that it’s not written. It’s not predestined. I don’t have to go crazy. I can stay sane, stay mostly stable, stay me.

I also have a secret weapon: my husband. Even if I do go crazy, I have him to keep me alive, to keep me from going so far down the hole that I can’t crawl back up.

That’s it. That’s my silver lining. That’s my ace in the hole.

Five or six years. I pass that, and I win. I beat history.

Coming Soon to a Twitch Stream Near You….

#books, #dystopian, #nerd, #publishing, Abnormal, Celebrity, Fandom, Geek, Hair, Interview, Novel, Promotion, Q&A, Sci-fi, Social Media, Writing

Pretty excited to be able to tell you guys that I have an author interview set up!

Okay, so it’s been set up for a while…but now I have a graphic to go with it 😉

Debating on if I should wear the wig for it. Lol I mean, it’s become a part of my author persona, as it were, on social media, and I wore it to Tucson Comic Con. It’s bold, it’s bright, and it’s noticeable…yeah, I think I’ll wear it. 😉

Btw, Thomas Anthony Lay is another Askew author. I can’t thank RhetAskew Publishing enough for letting me know about the Writer Imperfect series and giving me the info to sign up for it.

So here’s the 411, or at least the short version: we’re going to talk writing and publishing and whatever else the viewers/interviewers have for us. 🙂 My story’s kinda not your average author tale, so you might want to check out the stream to find out how I got started in traditional/indie publishing. Hell, you should check out the stream anyway, because you never know what’s going to happen. It’s live streaming, people! Anything can happen! Lol

Once things have calmed down after Estrella War I’ll be able to crank out more marketing stuff for Abnormal and the upcoming sequel (still in the far-away land of edits). With all the projects I have leading up to War, it’s going to be tough to get all the things done.

Well, I’m off to play around with Twitch and see what-all I can learn about it (before I noob it out next Friday). 🙂