2019: The Year Of The Novel. For Me.

This year, by the grace of God, saw me reach a goal I’ve been working toward my whole life: I became a novelist. This year, my publications include:

Novel: ALL THINGS HUGE AND HIDEOUS (currently on sale for just $3 on Amazon!)
Novel: MOON 2095: THE GIRL WHO WASN’T THERE
Story: “Wheels-Up Time” at StarShipSofa
Story: “Whoever Is Not For Us” at Mysterion
Story: “Day Of Atonement” In HOLY C.O.W. anthology

In addition, I sold two more stories, which will appear in 2020. They are:

“On The Menu Stains Of Madness” in Stupefying Stories.
“Adeste Fideles” at Cirsova.

In addition, I was privileged to be an Attending Pro at DragonCon, and my novel manuscript ACROSS THE ENDLESS OCEAN won Runner-Up honors in the #ReviseandResub contest on Twitter. Finally, I participated in NaNoWriMo and reached 50,000 words on my As Yet Unnamed Manuscript.

Not everything went exactly to plan. My greatest shortfall was the number of stories I sent out for submission. My goal was to send out 100 stories. I sent out only 55 submissions. Some of that was that I underestimated long response times and did not have as many manuscripts ready to go as I would need. And some of it was just me being lazy. And some of it was starting a new full-time job, which is anther achievement that I am quite happy about, grateful for, and proud of. But it does take time away from writing.

Also, I am quit humbled that this year, someone — I have no clue who — sent me an anonymous gift in the form of a short sword, pictured below. Whoever you are, you made me feel like a knight, and I dedicate myself anew to the quest of creating new worlds for the readers.

No photo description available.

Ave atque vale!

NaNoWriMo Project Snippet: Introducing Jehanne Dark!

So, for those readers who are interested in what I have been doing during this year’s NaNoWriMo, here are the first few pages of the manuscript currently entitled Through A Spyglass Darkly. Enjoy!

Jehanne knew she was near the king when she heard the army crumbling about him.

“…should have your spurs for this, Durayne. We’re in the middle of planning a battle, and you thought it was fitting to interrupt us for some addled nun’s mumblings?” said a man’s voice.

“Isn’t it, General?” grunted another man. “Prayer could hardly make our disposition worse than it is now. Don’t be too hard on the man.”

“If our positioning is inadequate, Marquis,” said the General, “you have not improved it. Nor marched near the field of battle, though we outnumber the Usurper five to one!”

“I’ll give battle when there’s a battle to be given,” answered the Marquis. “But I’m not volunteering my men as statuary. No need to give the Usurper and Nygurd even better odds.”

“Courtesy, my lords,” said a third man’s voice. “Holy words would be better than fighting words. Show her in.”

At these words the page guiding Jehanne stepped forward too quickly. The woman deliberately stumbled, catching herself with her long staff. He muttered an apology, and slowed, giving her the time to see what she could through her thick veil.

“The holy sister Lenore, my lords. Sire.”

The tremble in the page’s voice as he announced her alias was matched by the nervous jump in the muscles of his elbow that she held in a firm grip.

“Ye gods,” muttered the thin blur that was General Desrai, folding his arms. “Are the holy sisters covering their faces entire, now?”

“For most of them, that’s doing men a favor,” said Marquis Dubech, his thick form shaking its head.

“Courtesy, my lords,” King Michael repeated. He raised his voice and a blurred hand in welcome. “Holy sister, Captain Durayne tells us that he believes you might give us a blessing to help defend our kingdom.”

“I can give you no blessing, Sire,” she husked. “The Marquis of Nygurd and Prince Ecferth the Usurper march ever southward behind their totem, which turns men to stone if they dare to glance upon it.”

“You bring intelligence, then, of Ecferth’s army?” said Dubech. She could hear the hope in his voice. The clergy favored King Michael, and helped where they could.

“What good is intelligence going to do us?” snorted Desrai.

“It’s always preferable to stupidity, General.” she croaked.

“Indeed? Every day the Usurper advances another fifteen miles, and we retreat fifteen. We can’t even scout his rabble’s progress without leaving behind a half-dozen new statues. How would a blind old woman get such intelligence?” He hesitated. “Blind?” he asked. “But then, what could you know?”

“Far from blind, General, although that would, of course, allow you to approach the Usurper’s army. But before I speak further, good page, could you verify to the assembled nobles that my veil is firmly fastened down, and not easily lifted?”

“Yes, sister,” he said, giving a gentle tug at the woven cords that kept the dark sackcloth from flapping upwards. “It is tied fast.”

“And the knot is quite firm?”

“Quite firm, sister.”

“You need have no fear, sister,” said the King. “No man among us feels the need to impugn your vows of chastity in the slightest.” The words were delivered courteously, but chuckles responded to it anyway.

 “It’s not my fear that I speak to allay,” she said, straightening, and stretching out her hands. Her staff clattered to the floor and she threw back her cloak, revealing a lithe torso clad in leather armor and girt with a swordbelt. “Please note that my hands are empty and unmoving,” she said, clearly.

“What is this?” asked Desrai, his hand moving to his sword. “Who are you?”

“I am Jehanne Dark.”

The men in the room were very still.

“And do you have some proof of this…” Marquis Dubech’s mouth worked as he searched for the right word. “…audacious claim?”

“You might consider that I walked right past any number of guards and in the company of Captain Durayne without anyone penetrating my disguise as ‘Sister Lenore,’” she said. “But I do have other proof. I just have to ask you not to shoot me while I provide it. And remember. My hood is secure.” She concentrated.

And as slowly as she could contrive it, the heads of four of her vipers emerged from under the hood, tongues flickering languidly in their red-and-black heads.

It was difficult to tell which men gasped first and drew steel second, and which did the opposite. But all of them had backed up a step.

“Get out, Sire, and don’t look! We’ll cover your retreat!” shouted Desrai.

“I mean the king no harm!” cried Jehanne. “In fact,” she said. “I have come to pledge fealty and offer my services, to King Michael.” Slowly, she sank onto her knees.

“Don’t believe her, Sire! It’s a trap!” snarled Desrai. “And arrest that traitor!” He pointed his sword at Durayne, who raised his hands in protest.

“Yes, by all means waste your time arresting the poor man for being no wiser the rest of you,” Jehanne said.

“Sire, this diabolical monstrosity is the most infamous assassin on the continent! What answer do you make to that, villain?”

“Thank you?” Jehanne said.

Ad Majorem Gloriam Dei

I hesitated to write this blog post. There were a number of reasons I didn’t want to write it. Part of me felt that it would be arrogant, or that it might come off as preachy. That I might be wrong. It involves some vulnerability, and it involves some risk. But in the end, it is true, and I felt called to do it. So here goes.

I don’t know any writer on the way up that hasn’t dealt with jealousy on some level. That hasn’t dealt with feelings of complete inadequacy, with the feeling that life was unfair. With the feeling that writers who broke out big did so unethically, or because of who they happened to know, or because of other people’s bad taste. I’m sure there are some of them: those who never really had to deal with rejection because their first novel was snapped up right away, and those genuinely good souls who are just virtuous enough to celebrate with others as much as they would for themselves. I wonder which of those two is rarer? I have no idea, but I dearly wish that I were one or the other of them.

We’re not supposed to talk about those feelings. And it’s GOOD that we’re not supposed to.  Those feelings may be inevitable, but they are made much, much worse when we speak from them or act upon them. We’re supposed to say success isn’t pie and that someone else’s success doesn’t mean your failure. Despite the fact that in some cases (such as competing for anthology slots) that’s exactly what it does mean. But it doesn’t matter. Ethically, morally, we should be glad for the success of others. Celebrate them. Lift them up.

I have failed at fighting these feelings a lot. I’ve struggled against them hard. I know I’ve done better than some and I know I’ve done worse than many. I won’t even speculate about “most” because honestly I have no damned idea how “most” people do. My failure is inexcusable. But it’s not unforgivable. Because that’s the nature of forgiveness: the inexcusable is what forgiveness is for.

Last week, I got some news. It has the potential to be utterly life-changing news. And it also has the potential to be nothing more than a high-level rejection. It’s good — unbelievably good — that I’ve risen this high. But I still have potential to fall all the way back down to where I’ll have to start all over again.

And talking about this? It makes me afraid. It makes me afraid because of stupid reasons, like superstition. If I talk about this, it won’t happen. Because of self-centered reasons. There are people out there who will be glad to see me fail. Because of paranoid reasons. There are people out there who might figure out how to sabotage me. And honestly? For moral reasons: Karma or God knows that I haven’t supported others like I should have. I deserve to fail.

But here’s the thing: I do deserve to fail. That’s not the end of it, though: as much and as little as I deserve to succeed, I deserve to fail. Because whether I succeed in this or fail in this, it really isn’t about deserving it. No one in this business deserves a career, deserves an award, deserves a publication. They get those things, or not. One of the pieces of advice that I value most highly , I got from the writer S.M. Stirling at DragonCon 2018. He said, “Most authors have no idea how they got where they are, and the role chance played in getting there.” I believe he is correct on this.

But if there’s been something I’ve appreciated as I’ve hacked my way up the great mountain of publication, it’s been those willing to talk about their failures, and what it’s done to them. In a sense, this blog post is about joining them, in the hopes that I will be helpful to others, as they have been helpful to me. One of those who deserves special mention is Steven Barnes, because of some recent posts on failure and success. Something he posted, and which I wish I could find now, but I can’t, talked about a recent failure of his: for a brief moment, he believed some lies. That he wasn’t good enough. That people were yanking him around just for giggles. And then he had to consciously remember who he was, what he had done, and what was important. And do the next good thing in front of him as a father, a husband, and as a writer.

Now that is amazing, for two reasons: one, because it’s the testimony of a man who has not, even through the kind of success I would (not really!) kill for, lost sight of what is truly important. Secondly, despite that success, he admits that he has not become immune to failure and the bad feelings it brings. He can DEAL with them, but he isn’t IMMUNE to them.

Right now, I am doing everything I know how to for this opportunity to succeed. And right now, there’s just nothing I can do except 1) Wait and find other good things to do, and b) pray like crazy and ask others to do so for me. I’m praying for this like I’ve prayed for nothing else in my life except for my marriage and my children. I want it very, very badly.

Now, I know exactly what the right thing to say is. The right attitude to have. The right thing to say is very old: it’s in the oldest book of the Bible. It’s what Job said: “The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

You know, it’s going to be devastating if I don’t get this. But so what? Job was devastated too. And he had far more reason to be.

But this is where I stake my faith. But not, and this must be clearly understood, upon whether I get good news or not. No, I stake my faith on the Lord, who promises that all things work out for good for those who love Him. But I’m still going to pray for what I want, and trust that eventually, that I will receive, that I will find, and that the door will be opened. This is where I pray and what I pray for. I know a lot of people would like to see me succeed. There may be some who would like to see me fail. Oh, well. If that’s what you find pleasure in, then I’m afraid I can tell you from personal experience that it’s a truly awful thing enjoy.

I suppose I’m a little afraid of what people’s reactions will be to say that I’m praying for this. Will they say, “If you get good news, will you say it’s because you prayed?” Hey, I don’t know how prayer “works.” I’ll be too busy being happy about it t even ask that question. Will people say, “Are you trying to butter God up?” No. At least I really hope not. God isn’t, in my experience, very butterable, although if you think that would work, I think you have a weird view of God. I’m also, I suppose, afraid that as much as I’m trying to do what’s right, I might still be wrong.

No, I’m staking my faith on just saying this. Because I can’t really lose: this victory is now won. This is the moment where I can say, before I know the outcome, that I trust (as best I can) God with it. If I get this, I will be overjoyed at the blessing, and God is glorified. It means I really enter the conversation that is literature, and on a whole new level, and I am blessed.

And if I don’t get it? Well then, though it will hurt like poison, then I have at least had this conversation. And that’s a different blessing. And I learned just a couple of days ago that more people are listening to it than I sometimes think possible. And along with John Milton, who is damned good company for a writer, I remember they also serve who only stand and wait. I may not be able to speak with much grace if that happens. I’ll be badly hurt. But I will have done this, ad majorem gloriam Dei. That’s what’s really important, and what’s right, even if I might forget it for a time. I pray that I will not, and that God gives me the grace be His witness in success and in failure.

I Lied. And Sold Something.

Having titled this post, I feel I really must hasten to add that I didn’t sell something BY lying. I don’t do that.

No, it’s just that I’m mortified to realize that my last blog post, over a month ago, said that I was “starting to be able to bring the blog back.”

I so was not able to do that. I really thought I was, but then the school year struck back and ate all my free time again. So I won’t make that promise again. I really do HOPE that I’ll be able to do this more regularly, but as the semester winds down, NaNoWriMo is heating up. I’m over halfway done with my 50k words, but Thanksgiving doesn’t promise to be much of a break, so this could be interesting.

Finally, in unrelated news, Cirsova has picked up one of my favorite short-shorts I’ve ever written, “Adeste, Fideles.” I hope you will all enjoy it.

New Snippets! And a New Blog Post! And New Links!

Hoo-boy, what a month it has been.

Folks, starting a school year with elementary-school age kids, AND a new job, AT a new school, when it’s the first time both your wife and you have ever worked full time?

It’s no joke.

I am incredibly blessed to have all these opportunities, but I do not deny that it has been frantic and hectic. Good, but not relaxing. And some things have suffered.

This blog is definitely one of them. But I’m starting to be able to bring it back.

Over the past week, I have been fixing and improving book links. My new books are available over on the right sidebar: $3.99 for ALL THINGS HUGE AND HIDEOUS and $2.99 for THE GIRL WHO WASN’T THERE. In addition, if you want a taste of each, I have brand NEW SNIPPETS UP FOR EACH ONE in the SAMPLE SNIPPETS link above.

I hope to have new snippets up soon. Also, I have confirmation that I have sold a new short story: no shit it’s a CHOOSE-YOUR-OWN-ADVENTURE LOVECRAFTIAN NIGHTMARE. Never thought I’d sell it, but Stupendous Stories has picked it up!

Thanks for reading, friends.

DragonCon AAR: Legends and Dragons and Book Sales.

DragonCon was beyond awesome this year. Here are some of the highlights:

Thursday, I met with my publisher, Jason Rennie, and we helped to set up Bard’s Tower, a well-known bookselling staple of DragonCon (and others). Alexi was awesome, allowing Superversive Press to sell our books through the Tower.
I mean, okay, they were going to have featured signings, and I was going to have a chance to sell my book to passers-by, but hey, you gotta start somewhere.

Friday, we opened. In between the aforementioned selling copies of my book, among others, I ducked out to sit on panels about Arthur and the Round Table, and Cordwainer Smith, one of my favorite Golden Age authors. Four people bought books, the first of them being the awesome Dave Butler, award-winning author of the Witchy War series. I picked up his first book in the series, WITCHY EYE, as a prize last DragonCon. This year, I managed to pick up the third from the Baen Roadshow, who was giving away books to all active-duty military, teachers, and librarians. Thanks, Baen Books!

Butler DragonCon

I also met Brad Torgersen for the first time. Brad was nice enough to agree to blurb ALL THINGS HUGE AND HIDEOUS earlier this year, and is just a great guy to meet in person

Saturday was a big day at the Tower. It began with a new experience for me: it was the day I got to collaborate on the upcoming redesign of the cover for ALL THINGS HUGE AND HIDEOUS. By the end of the day, I had sold 90% of my books, including a copy that I gave away to Jim Butcher (mostly so I could say I did).

All-Things-Huge-and-Hideous-Kindle

Then I was able to reconnect with my Clarion mentor Tim Powers, who introduced me to a fellow Writers of the Future place-winner, Carrie Callahan, who I now consider a friend. Late that night in the Speaker’s Speakeasy, we both enjoyed an hour’s conversation with Larry Niven, who is certainly one of the greatest influences on my own work. That was amazing.

Finally, Sunday I managed to sell out. My last book went to an awesome lady who cosplays Dark Helmet, and thought the book was a riot. She actually came back and said that she’d found it hilarious and even brought a veterinarian friend with her. I also got to see Brad Torgersen win his Dragon Award for A STAR-WHEELED SKY. And Brad was later kind enough to spread the word about THE GIRL WHO WASN’T THERE! So DragonCon ends with a Dragon Award Winner recommending my books!

The Girl Who Wasn't There - KDP Cover

All in all, it was a wonderful con, and God has truly blessed me in giving me this chance to meet and work with such fine people.

ALL THINGS HUGE AND HIDEOUS BONUS GIVEAWAY WINNER!

So, two weeks ago I announced that there would be a drawing amongst people who shared the news of the ALL THINGS HUGE AND HIDEOUS release within 24 hours online for a FREE Kindle copy of the eBook. And now that I am back from vacation I am able to announce that the winner is…

ANDREW WOODS! You’ve won a free copy! Get in touch with me on social media, that I may reward you!

All-Things-Huge-and-Hideous-Kindle

New Stories and His Missing Materials: The Logoccentric Returns!

Hi, everyone! Well, it was a good vacation, but now I’m back! It’s the start of a bright new school year full of many good things! I got some great news in and around my vacation, so let’s get cracking!

First, if you’d like some real content, I’d like to direct you to my latest article published with SciPhi Journal (which is gaining readers by leaps and bounds) called “His Missing Materials” in which I take Philip Pullman to task for pretty much slandering the Christian faith.

As far as upcoming sales, I can’t name any right now, but it looks like I’ll have at east one if not two new announcements to make in the near future.

Finally, I’d like to share this awesome possible cover art for my next book, forthcoming as soon as I can get a small amount of edits back to the publisher:

Girl Who Wasn't

BOOK RELEASE: ALL THINGS HUGE AND HIDEOUS! WITH BONUS GIVEAWAY!

“Hilarious! Veterinary horror like Terry Pratchett would write!”
— D.J. Butler, author of WITCHY EYE

“A rollicking adventure that hits all the right notes.”

–Christopher Ruocchio, Award-Winning Author of The Sun Eater Series

 

Yesterday, a dream of mine came true. I became a published novelist for the first time. All Things Huge and Hideous has been released in Kindle format. Sometime before September, it will be released in print format as well.

I’d like to thank all the readers who have made this possible, as well as Jason Rennie, my publisher and Superversive Press. Special thanks also go to D.J. Butler and Chris Ruocchio whose blurbs are above.

Now, I’d also really love it if folks would spread the word, so for the people who share this on Facebook, or Twitter, or even better, reblog it TODAY, I am going to put your name in a drawing to win a signed copy of the book! Make sure to tag me if you post it on Facebook or Twitter. If you do it somewhere else where I’m not a member (like Instagram or Twitter) then please shoot me a note on my Contact form with a link so I can see it. This offer is only good for the next 24 hours, starting at 7:00 am CDT July 27, 2019!

Anthology Give-Away! Holy C.O.W!

Hey, want to win an anthology with a bunch of awesome stories, including my latest, “Day Of Atonement?”

Holy C.O.W. Anthology Volume One: SFStories from the Center Of the World

Just enter at this link, right here, on Amazon!

And now, a teaser:

Rabban Shimon and Rabban Hillel each took hold of one of the thick doors leading inward and pulled it aside. Yossef entered.

            The room was just as unimpressive on the inside as it had been on the outside. It was no larger than a small house, from which all furnishings had been removed. In the northwest corner, a steep staircase descended into thick darkness. The only thing in it was a wooden table, tall but only about a cubit square. On the table lay a perfectly ordinary knife. Across from him, looking slightly stricken, was Matthias, and standing by him, the Bishop of Jerusalem, with his Chief Elder.

            The Bishop, a thin, spare man with a curiously rounded face, bowed slightly from the waist. “Peace be with you, Rabban Hillel and the followers of the Law. I greet you in the name of Iyesos Christos, the Rebbe Melech HaMoshiach, and of St. Nicodemus the Rav Nakdimon.”

            The Nasi returned the bow. “Peace be with you, Bishop Konstantinos and the followers of Y’shua. I greet you in the name of the God of Avraham, the God of Yitzchak, the God of Ya’akov, and of the Elder Gamli’el of blessed memory. Give thanks to the God of gods.”

            “His mercy endures forever,” the Bishop answered. “Today, September 30th, in the Year of Our Lord 635, we present for ordeal before the throne of the Father, Matthias, a novice whom we would ordain a priest of Iyesos Christos.”

            “And today, on the 9th Tishrei, the year 4395, we present for the ordeal before the throne of the Most High, Yossef, whom we would ordain a Rabbi to teach the Law. Let His Will be revealed as it has been since the time of Y’shua, and the time of Moshe.” And he withdrew from his robes a box of acacia wood, polished with age. From it, he drew two stones.

            Yossef swayed where he stood, and he thought he heard Matthias gasp. Surely the Urim and Thummim had been lost in the time of captivity. He dared not speak, but stared at Hillel. But it was Bishop Konstantinos who spoke. “They are not the ancient relics of Israel,” he said kindly. “But they serve the purpose. As once we cast lots to determine the successor to our Lord’s betrayer, so we now cast them, that we may know the Will of God concerning you.”

            Yossef’s vision darkened and his breath quickened. This was the secret of ordination, then? No wonder they kept it a secret! He felt as though he were in a dream. God is present in this room, he thought. It was too big to take in.

            “We ask the Will of God concerning these men.” The words and the action cut across Yossef’s reverie. Konstantinos and Hillel cast their lots into the wooden table. The rattle of them echoed off the walls. Yossef stared. They were inscribed with ancient letters whose meanings he could not guess at. The Bishop and the Nasi gazed at them for a long moment. “The Will of God is that the disobedient should perish,” said the Nasi, and his voice was dead in the air.

            “This is the Will of God,” echoed the Bishop.

            The disobedient should..? What did that mean? Yossef turned to ask, but the men had the stones in their hands again, and the Bishop intoned, “We ask the Lord to reveal the disobedient.” The lots spun through the air as one and rattled in their tray. They gazed upon the stones. “The disobedient is the Jew, Yossef.”

            What? No, that couldn’t be!

            “The disobedient is Yossef,” the Nasi repeated, and he looked old and shaken. “Blessed be the Name of the Lord.”

            “Rabban Hillel,” breathed Yossef. “What have I..?”

            The older man gripped his upper arm with surprising strength. “You must be silent, Yossef. This is the Will of Adonai, which you swore to obey.” Yossef stood as if paralyzed. He had sworn. Sworn to obey the Will. Sworn by the Name.

            Bishop Konstantinos approached the table. To Yossef’s distant surprise, he left the stones on the table.

            He picked up the knife.

            Moving swiftly, he pressed its hilt into Matthias’ hand.  “Do it quickly, son.”

            Matthias’ face was a mirror of Yossef’s own. “Father, I don’t understand.”

            “This is the ordeal of ordination. You have sworn by Christ to do the Will of God as it is revealed to you. Do it quickly.”