Writing contests… What compels me to set myself up repeatedly for an emotional one-two punch? That is my initial reaction anyway, after the rejection comes, or the silence when my beloved story is knocked senseless to the mat after all the arduous work.
Eventually, after much moaning… ahem… soul searching, reason returns, and I take away the valuable lessons and start my next story.
How about you? Do you submit to writing contests to hone your skills? Are you a writer who thrives in that environment or shuns it? Share your highlights, successes, and best lessons in the comments.
Madeline Davis – Harpist, Scholar, U.S. Fantasy Writer
Madeline and I met in the Fantasy Sci Fi Writer’s Alliance and enjoy helping each other with story feedback. Her insights and editing tips have been invaluable. I love Madeline’s imaginative stories infused with the elements of her classical education and feel privileged to share in her writing journey.
Madeline is a harpist and an avid student, currently working towards her undergraduate degree in the Classics, as that field allows her ample exploration in her favorite subjects–literature, philosophy, theology, history, and languages–all at the same time.
She also enjoys poring over ancient texts and researching in her chosen subjects to incorporate the results into her fantasy genre stories. She hopes to give others a share of the delight she has derived from so many fine tales. And I’m delighted she is joining me for a Q&A, so she can pass that on to you.
Isa Ottoni – Teacher, Fantasy Writer, Enjoys Life in Portugal
I also met Isa through the Fantasy Sci Fi Writer’s Alliance, and like Madeline, Isa is extremely generous with her feedback and support for all of us there. For me, she has been an inspiration and invaluable to my writing journey.
Isa started her career writing science and teaching English as a Second Language, before falling in love with crafting her own fantastical universes. Her comic fantasy tale Braza is featured in Funemployment Press’s Quarterly Summer of Year One. She lives with her husband and their dog in a flat that overlooks the ocean, and spends her days writing, reading, and wondering about the what-ifs of life. I can’t wait for her visit, so we can all experience her joy and generosity.
Click below for the digital Summer Edition of the Funemployment Quarterly, and a collection of short stories, including Isa’s Braza. There is also a print version available. Funemployment Press is featured on my Indie Publishers Page.
February
Sevannah Storm – Artist, Sci-Fi Fantasy Romance Author, NaNoWriMo Buddy, Hales from South Africa
I met Sevannah on NaNoWriMo in 2021, and wow is she a writing machine. Her progress is always motivating. And she has a fantastic collection of books on Amazon for you to check out. I’m including a link to the first book in the Gifting Series below.
Sevannah was born and raised in Africa and is a slave to her internal muse, Reginald. She writes action-packed romances with happily-ever-after and is a firm believer in relatable characters who are strong, capable yet bowled over by love.
Her home is a land south of Wakanda, where animals roam free. Born in Zimbabwe, she grew up in South Africa. The crisp blue skies with cotton-candy sunsets expand her heart and soul, encapsulating a sense of freedom. Check out her website and newsletter. I can’t wait to chat with her about her writing life and insights.
What a surprise this November is turning out to be. The best laid plans… as they say. But I have never been one to stick with plans if something tells me I need to mix it up and to go a different direction.
For NaNoWriMo this year, my Pod People (aka characters seeded in my brain by aliens) spun me around blindfolded under a pinata and after bashing away, I’ve made all sorts of turns and transitions in my writing career.
And I’m totally thrilled and surprised by the results.
In the first week, I changed my project three times. Then, I had an epiphany. I needed to unpublish my novels. Books One and Two in The Starlight Chronicles were languishing, loveless in the nether regions of the Kindle Universe. I’m still working on the conclusion and thought at one point that would be my focus for November.
But the pressure of completing my series has been weighing on me. I decided that getting them off the market, using the time to finish and polish them, finding a book cover artist for a cohesive professional look, and launching them with a fresh marketing campaign might be exactly what they, and I need.
An exhilarating freedom resulted. I’ve been infused with new energy. There are three other novels in the works that are getting the attention they deserve. I made one of them my focus for November but decided not to worry about hitting my goal if I want to write on other projects. What a relief that has been, and I’ve made progress with them all.
I have also allowed myself to participate in various flash fiction and short story competitions, which have been more enjoyable without the pressure of getting that third installment done.
Other factors played a huge role in my rejuvenation. I belong to a writer’s alliance and the support I got for this crucial decision was phenomenal. A Twitter post by a member of the Writing Community about deciding to unpublish was ever so timely. And advice on holding onto the joy of writing while letting go of the drudgery of marketing sealed the deal. You can join that discussion in my recent interview with Sci-Fi author, Kent Wayne.
The month is not over folks… I wonder what other surprises might be in store. And please. Tell me how your November is shaping up.
The Death’s Head Omen is a recent micro fiction story I entered in a contest. Results in January.
Or is it the Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha, aka Kent Wayne? Hmmm. I’ll let you decide after you meet him. Read on!
Click on images to link to Mr. Wayne’s books and blogs.
You might guess my first question today, Kent. What seeds that imagination when you write your “Yet another weird ad for my novels” blog? They sure caught my attention.
Believe it or not, no one’s asked me that before. Oftentimes, it’s a throwaway joke I hear on a comedy podcast. It takes root in my mind, grows into a premise, then I change the context so I can make a miniature story out of it. Other times, I’m struck by a “What If,” then when I sit down to write, I tease out the possibilities within that premise.
You’ve created foes, heroes, and the most zany and naughty superpowers from just about every likely and unlikely personality in our universe, with Kent Wayne extracting himself by the skin of his… well, you know… every time, as long as he has that precious second to activate his eReader. I read them because I can’t wait to see who might show up next in your action-packed appendage battles! What’s the story behind the stories?
One of my writing principles is to amp things up as much as I can (by “as much as I can,” I mean constrain events with logic while reaching for maximal absurdity or the emotionally evocative), and then smooth things over as I edit. That definitely applies to my ads, where I write about prehensile genitalia or Martha Stewart shoving a mithril lance into Smaug’s nether-hole.
As a kid, I read Calvin and Hobbes over and over. I especially loved the arcs where he imagined he was a noir detective, articulate dinosaur, or Spaceman Spiff. Barry Ween was another big influence.
I love the idea of extraordinary circumstances arising in the ordinary world, then reveling in the adventure and fun as madness ensues.
D. Awesome. Thanks for sharing your techniques! I have to say I would like to emulate that effect. There’s nothing better than an enjoyable read over breakfast that has my brows shooting up and laughter coming out of my nose with my coffee.
Click on the Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha to visit Kent and follow his posts. And click here for his volume of Musings on Amazon
Do the blogs spring out of nowhere, or do you have an arsenal of notes to pull from when you’re ready to give us another one?
When I have an idea, I’ll write a cliffs notes version of the basic gist, usually no more than a sentence long (ex: defile jock’s jacket, jock gets mad, defeat jock and hook up with his mom). I also do this with books–if I’m afraid I’m going to forget what I want to write, I’ll write a cliffs notes version in brackets at my furthest point in the manuscript.
In the past, I have at times sat down with no idea or clue and just started writing on a blank page. In some of the older blogs, you’ll see me start with “What to write, what to write, what to wriiiiiiiitteee…” and then I let my fingers go and come up with something on the spot.
I know the ads/blogs are popular. Do they work to sell your books? Would you say they’re an extension of your published stories, or are they in a world all by themselves? And are they as fun to write as they are to read?
Not at all, LOL! I’ve given up trying to sell books; it’s made me miserable in the past. I just try and have fun with writing. The primary reward for me is the fulfillment and engagement I get from crafting a story–it’s the one activity that always seems to flow without any effort for me.
The blogs are my overtures toward advertising. But I hate advertising, so I decided why not exercise my writing muscles when I publish an ad?
D. Great points. I only started writing fiction a couple of years ago. I did it because it was fun. The first year stayed fun, the second year, I went down the marketing rabbit hole, and I keep trying to climb back out. This is encouraging. Thank you!
Tell us about your other books on Amazon.
My other books are Echo, a four-book science fiction series that follows a warrior who’s pushed it as far as he can in a militarized dystopia, then embarks on a quest for personal transcendence. In addition to the robo-suits and high-tech pew-pew, I throw in a lot of psychic stuff and existential philosophy, although they don’t come into play until volumes 3 and 4.
Kor’Thank: Barbarian Valley Girl was my way of trying something new and branching into humor. It’s kind of like a long-form version of my ads, but it’s got heart and character development in it since it’s a full-length book.
I write books I want to read (or I would have wanted to read when I was younger), so after I covered the robo-badass stuff and the zany high school fun, I wrote a YA fantasy called A Door into Evermoor. Now that Dungeons and Dragons is cool and you can admit to playing it without being encircled and laughed at by trend-worshipping mouth-breathers, I’ll freely admit I played D&D as a kid.
D. Haha. One of the best reasons I’ve heard for writing a story!
What inspired you to write fiction?
I kind of stumbled onto it via a happy accident. I tried writing in my twenties, but I was like most writers where I couldn’t get past a premise or a couple of chapters. For some reason, I was able to do it in my thirties. I suspect it was because I had some life experience, but mostly because I was starting to understand the psychology behind a narrative–how a character’s personality should develop through a story, and how corresponding events should complement that development.
D. Another great nugget of inspiration. Thanks!
Which authors have inspired you most?
Stephen King, specifically his Dark Tower series, specifically the second volume, The Drawing of Three. The part where a gunslinger-knight from another dimension lies dying on an alien beach, then gets his first taste of Pepsi, is burned into my mind as the most viscerally impactful scene I’ve ever read.
Also, Robin Hobb and the first two volumes of the Farseer series, Assassin’s Apprentice and Royal Assassin.
Can you tell us about your works in progress, any ones you’re particularly fond of at the moment, and when we might expect to see them in print?
Right now, I’ve finished drafting the second volume of the Unbound Realm, which is called Weapons of Old. I’m deep in the edits, trying to work out the logic holes, spice up the descriptions, and kicking myself for not remembering to set up this or that for the next volume.
After that, I plan on writing volume 3, then tackling an extradimensional detective noir. The release dates depend on when I can do a smooth read-through without catching major problems. That typically means I can read through the entire book in less than a week without anything big jumping out at me.
D. I really appreciate getting some insight on your creative process. It’s helpful to glimpse how writers tackle the sheer volume of work that’s always in play.
Which of your characters is your favorite, and why?
I’m always biased towards whoever I’m writing about, so Jon from the Unbound Realm is my favorite at that moment.
What has been your biggest highlight of the last year?
My biggest highlight is finishing the first volume of my YA fantasy series. I’ve spent most of my life as an emotionally stunted, tough-guy meathead, so it’s nice to see that I can tap into the wonder and adventure I wished for as a kid. I never expressed it back then, so it’s nice to see it flow onto the page.
D. I think you just tapped into one of the many unexpected benefits of being a writer and thank you again for sharing your experiences.
What are you most excited about over the next year?
I’m excited to publish the second volume of the Unbound Realm, write and publish volume 3, then move on to my astral detective noir.
D. All the best on those endeavors. I love anything with noir, and that last project sounds super intriguing. Keep us posted!
Any parting advice for those who dream about becoming a writer, or starting up a blog?
Fun is the priority. There are better ways to make money. If writing doesn’t bring you joy, then the pain and inconvenience better be worth it in some other way–maybe fulfillment or pride or internal validation–but that’s not my approach. I think that’s similar to someone who stays in a miserable job so they can retire in their old age and enjoy a few years of not having to do a miserable job.
I used to idolize hard-chargers, folks who preached constant sacrifice and austerity, but now my role model is Keanu Reeves. From my perspective, that guy is a horrible actor, he’s kind of weird, and comes off as not the brightest, but it seems like he prioritizes enjoyment and stays true to his heart (he turned down Speed 2 and the buttload of money that came with it, looks for roles he likes, and cuts his salary to boost production he believes in). Success is nice, but if you’re outwardly successful and inwardly miserable, what’s the point? Whatever is outwardly happening to me, regardless of whether it meets someone else’s definition of miserable or happy, I’d like to honor my inner compass. I don’t want writing to become a horrible office job with loads of obligations and constant low-key anxiety. I’d like to be the Keanu Reeves of writing, if that makes any sense.
I’d also recommend learning how symbolism works through imagery and action (in cinema, smoking a cigarette almost always means the smoker is going to be self-destructive, and taking a shower almost always references some form of rebirth because the character is naked and drenched like they would be in a womb). Those are just artsy tools, however. I think understanding the hero’s journey–which Joseph Campbell does a great job of breaking down–is probably of utmost importance. The audience doesn’t want to see a guy just putter through life and never experience meaningful change; we see too much of that in our day to day. The advantage of a well-told story is you get to see the highlights of a character’s life.
D. That is the best ending advice I’ve had to date. If I didn’t have only twenty months left to retire and get my pension, I’d be out of that office so fast, my hair pins would be spinning! 😄 At the very least, I’m feeling a lot better about slow book sales and can focus again on the joy of writing them. Thanks so much for visiting with us on my Spotlight blog today. This has been a lot of fun. All the best to you, Kent.
I can’t deny I was pleased with this summary. I worked hard on polishing my first microfiction 24-hour submission to NYC Midnight’s 250-word Microfiction Challenge 2022, and maybe… just maybe, this will mean something in the judging. We will see (but not until January!). These events are amazing for anyone who wants the challenge of getting a complete story into a tiny format. And for those of you who are participating with me, the best of luck!
Check out AutoCrit if you haven’t already. I recommend it as a great writing resource with powerful analytics.
Selena Aires is fine with her nine-to-five life in the city, using her spare time to create art instead of making friends or finding love, until her mentor insists she’s on the wrong path.
When he dies, her grief and faith in his convictions prompts her to move to a small town in the lofty Sierra Nevada Mountains. But more is waiting for her in Quincy than the invigorating pine-scented air, endless trails, and the perfect artist bungalow. What Selena didn’t expect was an encounter with an astonishing man whose barely restrained power calls to something buried in her she had no idea was there.
The alpha of the North Star Pack thought he’d faced every challenge until he laid eyes on the new human in his territory, a beautiful artist with the heart of a warrior. Andras Johns knows instantly his life will never be the same.
The two of them must find a way to merge their opposing worlds while Selena grapples with her feelings for a man with a mystery beneath the surface and faces a destiny that’s expanded beyond her wildest imagination, a destiny fraught with peril in a world that just keeps getting stranger.
Prologue
Zigan – 1988 AD
Thunder boomed and lightning flared across the wheatfields the night Zigan materialized on the upstairs landing of the farmhouse that hunkered against the storm, square and sturdy in its aged timbers.
The floor creaked under his feet as he inspected the closed doors, using the light from the watery halfmoon. He wasn’t worried. Any noise he made was concealed by the winds that rocked the house. It took him only a moment to sense the soul he was to bind himself with for the rest of his earthly life.
Soft snoring from the room at the end of the hall confirmed her parents were asleep, and Zigan was free to carry out his purpose. Still, he paused at her threshold to savor the moment he’d waited for since he was seven, the year his parents gave him to the Order of Hala.
Since then, Zigan had trained in many disciplines to prepare for this bonding and the challenges it would bring. Decades of dedication had brought him to this time, this remote California county, and to this precious infant. He pushed open the door.
Two children slept despite the raging storm and pulsating light. His own electricity throbbed on the inside of his wrist as he approached the baby girl who came awake when he leaned over the crib. Her arms and legs wiggled in response to the magic he sent surging around them.
The tiny being made no sound as she watched him from unusual ochre eyes rimmed in silver. Eyes that confirmed she was the one. He noted the feature unique to the human she was in this cycle, a heart shaped face framed by a halo of shiny dark hair. These things together would help him find her when she was grown.
A faint rustling drew his attention to the bed against the opposite wall. Her four-year old brother dreamed, nestled beneath a Spiderman cover with his own mop of dark hair peeking out.
It was time to do what Zigan had come to do. He pressed his wrist against the infant’s minuscule left shoulder. An obscure image of a half-moon and a wind symbol tucked next to it formed on her delicate skin. Her eyes sparkled, and she smiled as their souls connected.
He whispered in the quiet room against the noise of the storm, “Until we meet again, grow well, my precious one.” Zigan gathered his mist and was gone.
Chapter 1
Selena – Present Day
Gemma Landry rested her hand next to my sketchpad after setting down my beer, and I pulled my attention away from my drawing to look up at her glittering violet eyes. “Look past my hip. The show’s about to begin.”
A screech confirmed her prediction, and the source of the unruly sound tossed her drink into a man’s face.
“They’re at it again. You can see the air vibrating between them. I didn’t think drink-tossing was a thing in real life,” I said with a fair amount of amazement.
The Starlight’s cook, Kenny Sullivan, appeared at the kitchen door, wiping his hands on his apron. He winked at us while we waited for the drama to unfold between two regulars who got into heated arguments at least once a week. They had to enjoy the constant conflict.
It was the sort of scene that inspired my art, and I turned to a fresh page in my journal and started drawing.
I prodded Gemma for more predictions. “What do you think Jason’s going to do about the message dripping down his face?”
She laughed. “I’ll wager you one of Kenny’s tuna melts he walks away without kissing Lucy like he wants to, despite the insult.”
“You’re on.”
Jason’s posturing didn’t faze his wife, who kept the sparks flying his way. At one point their lips were so close they nearly brushed together, and I thought I might win the bet. But they pulled back before they made contact, and that’s when I noticed something more subtle in their interaction. An odd light flashed in both pairs of eyes.
I swallowed. “I can’t be the only one who sees that.”
Gemma cleared her throat. “Yeah. I see it. And I have no idea what it means.”
Judging by her tone and the fact that the Starlight’s most popular server was tapped into everything that went on in this pub, I was sure she had at least an inkling. But I let it go for now and added more to my drawing, even as the hairs prickled on the back of my neck like they did every time these two dueled.
Though we were convinced something more would happen, it never did. That didn’t stop us from waiting for it. I laid down more charcoal.
“How do you do that?” Gemma said as she leaned over me. “Getting action to leap from your pages. It’s two faces, and they aren’t even moving.”
“There’s a trick to it, and anyone can learn. I’ll show you sometime.” I drew her attention to other intriguing characters hunched over their beers at a table in the opposite corner. “I’ll bet you a chicken salad at Jean’s that one of those men will intervene.”
We looked at five Harley Davidson riders who, for whatever reason, acted as informal security. At least they appeared to be bikers, but like so many things in this place, more lurked under the surface.
Gemma snorted. “Nope. Not taking that one.”
I watched in fascination when the one who demonstrated authority with every move gave a wordless command to one of the other four, a man whose face was shrouded by his hood and even weirder, ebbing shadows. The effect combined with his aura of power kept me from voicing my observations. What I saw was too strange for words.
Jason stiffened in response to whatever the hooded man said, shrugged his beefy shoulders, and left without a backward glance. I didn’t blame him. I would obey the shadowy guy without question too.
The shrouded face bent to Lucy’s ear next. Her shoulders slumped and she nodded. The lights in her eyes retreated. When she joined her friends at the bar, she was no different than any other half of a rowdy Starlight couple, and I could almost believe I’d imagined all the strange signals.
Kenny caught my eye again and grinned before disappearing into the kitchen. Red Russo, the proprietor of this establishment had observed the whole thing while he stood next to Kenny rubbing a towel over a glass mug. I wasn’t surprised when he traded a glance with the honey-blond giant giving the orders.
Gemma squeezed my shoulder and headed to her next table, her black braid with purple highlights whipping around her hips. I thought about her mysterious tone earlier. Gemma might be carefree on the outside, but worry lines etched across her forehead, and she held secrets in her eyes. I wanted to help with whatever it was and hoped she would let me in soon, or I might have to start probing.
Sometimes it felt like everyone at the Starlight had secrets, and I looked down at my drawing, wondering if that were true for most small towns. I risked another peek at the five men crammed into that table. It was no surprise when the blond giant mentioned earlier looked my way.
He nodded. It wasn’t the first time.
Despite the heat flaring up my neck and the fluttering in my belly, my stubborn side kicked in, and I gave him my best smile. He held my gaze but didn’t smile back.
These exchanges were getting harder to respond to because each time, he appeared to question his wisdom in acknowledging my existence. It was confusing as hell, and it had been going on for weeks.
I broke the contact, finished my beer, and turned to another page in my journal. The sketch I landed on marked the beginning of what I could only describe as a reluctant fascination.