I have never had a project kick my ass the way that Knight of Sorrows is doing. I'm sweating blood over this fucking thing (pardon my French), and I'm not entirely certain that it's going to be worth it.

Crickets, why do I do this to myself? I stopped writing Catherine's Wheel in chapter 3 because I was weary of Tobyn's routine and didn't really like where it was going. I started over on Knight of Sorrows and stalled a bit in chapter 11. I then started Requiem and its various components. How many things can I be writing at once? It would be so much easier if I had no mentally-draining day job to occupy my mind and wear me down during the week.

I finally got back to Tristan and company last night and cleaned up the things in chapter 11 that were giving me issues. Hopefully now I can continue. I'm still not ready to go back to Tobyn and friends, so CW will be sitting for a while. And Requiem? God only knows where that came from, or where it will be going.

--

I sometimes feel possessed by my stories. Images start playing in my mind's eye, and I start losing track of where I am. I hear the things the characters hear, see what they see, smell the things they smell. Maybe it's a very particular brand of schizophrenia. I don't know. I only know that I can't get back to "real real" until I devote at least a little of what I'm seeing to the page. Yesterday, I was overcome by one of those scenes and a nameless person whose emotions reached out and squeezed my insides until they nearly bled. I had to write it down, snow showers and all. I was so "into it" that I was honestly surprised that there was no snow on the ground when I emerged from whatever writerly fugue state I go into.

Am I crazy? Maybe. But maybe I don't want a cure. My best writing is done this way, when it takes control and I'm just along for the ride.

For the record, the scene I wrote has no home, and I don't know if it ever will have one. I don't even know who the characters are, or why they're in the sad situation they're in, or anything. Maybe it'll come back and I'll be able to answer my questions. Maybe it will stay the way it is, like so many other partial pieces that litter my computer memory.

It's a mystery.

Anybody reading this blog must be convinced that I need serious psychiatric help!

Talking to my imaginary friends

Pardon me, Crickets, while I see to a few points of order with a few representatives of my cast of thousands.

Arthur and Tristan, thank you for coming to the point and helping get me back on track. Chapter 12 can now happen. Furthermore, Arthur, my darling boy, this little introduction to your unique personage and relationships has planted the seed for just what I didn't need - another God damned book. So, no thanks. But thanks. Er... yeah. That. And as a side note: Lance, since when are you such a douche bag? Really, now. You're surprising me. Maybe you and Tristan just didn't hit it off well? Or maybe it was like Arthur said, and you're just protective and don't understand this political stuff. I don't know, but you'd better shape up, buddy. I'd hate to dislike you. You're supposed to be a flawed hero. Heroes aren't normally jerks (Tobyn notwithstanding).

And here endeth the letter to the people in my head.

Yes, Crickets, work on Knight of Sorrows continues apace. Now it's going to be one awkward conversation in Tintagel (or Aravon), then onward to the legend. Appropriately enough, I think the legend will be properly rejoined in Chapter 13, a suitably ill-starred number to associate with the moment when an ill-starred young man encounters his fate.

Fasten your seatbelts, Crickets. It's all high-speed from here.

Good news, Crickets! The final (for now) version of the website is up and live! It includes new content like "Ask Tobyn", a press kit with [shudder] a photograph of yours truly, and some teasers for the poetry and short story volumes. Go and look!

Real people can be hugely annoying.

Imaginary people can sometimes be so much worse.

Tristan, meet Arthur. Arthur, meet Tristan. Would one of you overly-polite chaps kindly get to the freaking point?? Oh, hi, Lancelot. Hi, Merlin. You fellows can just... keep doing whatever it is you're doing over there in that corner while these two yammer about politics.

Gentlemen, really. I'm shaking my spear. Can you not see me shaking my spear?

I was listening to NPR on the way to work this morning, as I do every morning. Today they had a story about the difficulties publishers are facing with marketing their books, and they shared some techniques for getting "buzz" started. Naturally, the two things these tips revolved around are the two things I just don't have and cannot generate: word of mouth and a print run with galleys to be shipped to book sellers, reviewers, and book clubs.

I was feeling pretty copacetic about the whole Irish Horse fiasco, even with the sorry state of the bank account, but now? Now I'm feeling like this has all been a huge waste of time and energy.

Every time I speak to someone who might be interested in reading the book, they're all enthusiastic about it until I mention that it's only in electronic form. I could probably sell some copies if I had them in actual physical print. The drawback? Money. This is me, without the thousands it would take to fund a print run. Furthermore, this is me, without the potential to obtain the thousands of dollars it would take - my day job doesn't pay that well (especially while I'm paying off two surgeries and a week in ICU), and the thought of obtaining a loan in this economy is ludicrous.

I'm feeling pretty discourged this morning.

The website has undergone some re-engineering, Crickets, and there's more content. I'm thrilled with how it looks! Now there are just a few things that need done (a link to the Curled Up With a Good Book review of Nightchild, a link to the poetry volume, etc.,) and it'll be all set. My webmiss has been AWESOME. I can't ask for a prettier or better site.

I've been derailed from Knight of Sorrows again, this time by an idea for a short story anthology. I can probably work on both at the same time. I also have real life things that are intruding, so the Dream Factory and Imaginarium is by necessity temporary closed. Isn't it always the way? When I was in college, I did my best writing during finals week. What can I say? I have a freakish brain. ;)

Good news!

All four books are now available on Amazon.com for Kindle download! Nightchild: Book 1 of the Clans Saga, Sacrifice: Book 2 of the Clans Saga, Collected Stories and Collected Poems are all up and ready to roll!

Linkie:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=irish+horse+productions


Please, Crickets, if you know anyone who might be of a charitable mindset and might enjoy reading my scribbles and bibbles, please spread the word.