Cal Matthews's Blog

Happy New Year. 2018 awaits.

To recap:

2017 Goals (from my New Year’s Post, 1 year ago)

I will finally publish the STILL FUCKING UNNAMED book I’ve been working on all year. Sometime in February or March, I imagine.

I did, by the skin of my teeth, manage to achieve this goal. I published Lupine Road in September.

Hidebound, Book 3 of the Thaumaturge series, is coming along nicely. I’m a quarter of the way through the first draft.

Hidebound is still just over a quarter of the way finished. I tried to pick it up for Nano, but my heart wasn’t in it.

I’m going to work on three novellas, and get those edited and released. One is about ghosts, one is about time travel and one is about monsters from another dimension

These are in various stages of completeness. Monsters from another dimension needs to be beta-read, the ghost story is in final edits, and the time travel one is the least developed. First draft done, that’s it.

I’m working on a book about a young trans man who gets involved with some magical stuff.

Fully outlined, the first few chapters done.

I’m also outlining another book about monsters, set in the 1960’s. Think suburban American gothic.

This one is still floating around in my head, but hasn’t solidified into an outline yet.

I’m sharing this because 2017 wasn’t a great year for me, and I’m totally fine with it.

No, that’s a lie. I struggle with it. Seems like a lot of other writers kicked ass in 2017. Book deals, audio books, multiple releases, best sellers. I barely found the motivation to write. I published one book, a book that I started in 2015. I struggled with every part of the process, from writing to editing to marketing.

I lost my dad, and my grandmother this year. She died in February and my dad in August. I feel like I’ve been swallowed by grief and it hasn’t yet spit me out.

I quit my job (which was a healthy decision, though it was difficult for me to leave), started a new job, quit that one, and am now at an internship that I hope pays off. I hope. Ultimately, those were all good decisions because the job I was at was full of toxic people and I wasn’t happy there. But it has been difficult from a financial standpoint.

But, though 2017 wasn’t a great year for me personally. . . . it wasn’t that bad either. I had a wonderful summer of working horses and fixing trails. I spent nearly all of July and August on horseback deep in the Montana wilderness. I feel like I shed dead layers of myself when I’m in the woods, like the real me stretches and breathes and is alive again under great blue skies. My broken heart began to knit together again at the edge of a high mountain lake.

Physically, I’m feeling better. I participated in a Crossfit competition, the first since I fractured my neck two years ago. I didn’t reach the weightlifting goals I had set for myself last year, but I have reached and surpassed where I was two years, pre-injury. So I’ll give myself credit for that.

This year, I’m being more practical. Kinder to myself. My goals for this year are:

1.) to be more organized, in all areas of my life. To achieve this, I’m going to attempt a bullet journal (something my super-organized husband swears by). As part of this organization, I’m going to attempt to organize my writing life more effectively, by:

a.) outlining projects before I begin writing them

b.) setting realistic weekly word goals, instead of the old “write every day” advice

4.) Publish the three novellas I wrote this year.

5.) Finish at least the first draft of Hidebound

6.) Let myself write for fun.

That’s it. I’m not going to GRL this year. While I had a good time in Denver, the 2018 GRL is on the other side of the country from me, and it’s not financially possible. Instead, I’m going to try to plan to go to Read with Pride Northwest, which is held in Seattle. That, however, depends on my job situation. So for now it is just a tentative plan.

I’m going into the New Year with cautious optimist and hope. I know that it is been difficult, in terms of politics and watching the United States fall apart. I’ve felt that keenly, and I know that we have many more battles ahead. Last year, I said to keep fighting. To move ever upwards. This year, I guess my plan is to just keep going. Just push on. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

Thank you to everyone has read my books, reviewed my books, spent me an email or DM or message. It means the absolute world to me that you take the time to do so. I appreciate every single person who contacts me. Thank you.

Happy New Year, all. I wish the best for you.

Cal

Yesterday I was driving through town, on my way to the gym. I’ve been hitting Crossfit hard recently, trying to regain the strength and conditioning I lost after my (two) broken vertebrae last year. I was a bit sore, not really looking forward to the workout and instead focusing on the chocolate peanut butter protein shake I was going to absolutely destroy after all the clean and jerks.

I drove past the bus station, glanced out the window at the small crowd waiting to board, and my eyes fixed on this one guy. He faced away from me and patched onto the back of his leather jacket was the emblem of the Alliance to Restore the Republic. Or, you know, the Rebel Alliance symbol from Star Wars. There was something about the set of his shoulders, the fine collection of snow in his dark hair, the foggy reflection in the bas station window.

I only saw him for a second, but in that second and the seconds that followed, my mind was flooded with feelings, impressions, faces, words, the untethered strands of a tangled story. A few more moments went by, and pieces fell into place, connections were made, the impressions solidified into images, and by the time I made it to Crossfit, I had the vague, unformed, beginnings of a book.

This is how it works for me. If it hasn’t become obvious before now, I am not one of those authors that can churn out five or six books a year. I don’t write every day. It’s difficult to do so when working two jobs, taking online classes, and being a parent (and Crossfitting. Got to get my lift on.), but I sincerely try to write at least four or five times a week, whether it be on my lunch break, or at midnight after working 14 hours. But I write slow, and it does seem at times that I am making no progress.

Consider: At the moment, I have three novels and one short published. My first book, The Dead, was published in August of 2015. In the two and a half years since then, I’ve published roughly once a year. That can be frustrating when I look around at other authors and see that they’ve published literally five times the titles in the same amount of time. What is wrong with me?

Consider this too: I currently have two titles, one a novella, the other a short, finished, edited, and been reviewed by betas. They need a few minor revisions, and then they are ready to go. But lately, quite a bit of my attention as been on the short story I’ve been working on, that is on the second draft. I’m very eager to finish it, as I love the characters and their relationship, but then I get distracted by the first draft of a novel, which is the third in my Thaumaturge series. Ebron will likely always be my favorite character to write, and I straight up miss him when I’m not working on his story. So I ping pong back and forth between revisions on the novella and the short, finishing the second draft of the short story, and writing the first draft of the novel. I lack the discipline, I suppose, to really be successful at this industry.

But now I return to the guy in the Rebel Alliance jacket. I don’t know how it is for other writers. I don’t know if they come up with character first and then sit down to plot everything out, from first meeting to the conflict to the resolution, or if the situation comes first and then they develop characters to fit the situation, but that’s not how things work for me. For me, I see something, hear something, hell, smell something, and from that I get an impression. Sometimes the impression is the glimpse of a character, sometimes a situation, and some rare times that glimpse fits into an already developed idea. But then I’m left with this feeling, this impression, this ingredient, and I have to come up with who this person is, what their story is, and develop the recipe to tell their story.

For example, this is what I know about the story inspired by that dude in the Rebel Alliance jacket standing in the falling snow at the bus station:

The world burned, not so long ago. Only remnants remain.

All the Gods are dead. There are monsters in the dark, leviathans that have crept out from the corners of the earth. They have already begun to eat.

Humanity, or what is left of it, struggles to restore order. Old religion sects fight for power. Prophets seem to be everywhere. The government still claims authority, but they have no real power, and instead competing vigilante groups fill the need for law and order.

In this setting, we have our main characters:

MC 1 – Recruiter for ?? I don’t know? Something? But his recruits are nothing but cannon fodder, and he’s tired, so tired.

MC 2 – Musician, I think? Lives with a ragtag band of survivors, stealing, busking, pickpocketing.

MC 3 – Escapee from one of the religious cults. Weirdo. Quiet. His main emotion is longing.

MC 4 – Her name is Grace.

That’s what I got from the Dude in the Rebel Alliance jacket.

And you guys? I have 15 other folders on my computer, with scraps of story, just like this one. This is why it takes me so long to write. Because I never run out of ideas. I have nothing but ideas. I currently, at this moment, have 8 works in progress. That’s not counting the competed titles I already mentioned.

And writing is my hobby. It’s not my career. I love writing. There is nothing that is more intrinsically part of me that telling stories, and I just have so many to tell. So I jump around, collecting these ingredients, trying to fit them here and there and make sense of them. I have ghost stories, and dragon stories, and time travel stories, and alien stories, and weird futuristic dystopian stories, and contemporary love stories, and so much more. I live in this world of stories, this word soup, and I’m always trying to give them to you in a way that best resembles the stories that are in my head. As we know, the gulf between concept and execution can be wide, but I’m always trying to translate these stories from my head, as best I can.

Not a lot of people read my books. And that’s just fine. I hope that the people who do read them enjoy them. I’m not going to stop writing. Not as long as a simple drive to the gym gives me a passport into a different world, not as long as a walk down the road shows me the geography of distant lands, not as long as my brain is populated with all these people who are waiting me for to put their stories onto paper.

I have so much work to do. And I look forward to every moment of it.

Hello friends. It’s been a long time.

It’s been a long journey to get this book out. I started writing it two years ago and while I had every intention of publishing it the same year… life stuff happened. A lot of life stuff.

Things are very different for me now. My life is very different from two years ago, or even one year. I haven’t yet found my footing in this new life I find myself in. But we push on. And I’m pleased that Lupine Road, a book dear to my heart, is finally available.

Lupine Road is a story about love and a story about fear. The two main characters, Cyrus and Nate, each carry the weight of their own pasts, their own fears. They are able to come together and ease each other’s burdens, at least for a time (no spoilers!!).

I loved writing Cyrus because of his flaws, his loyalty, his brokenness.

I loved writing Nate because of his relentless courage, his joy, his scars.

I know this book won’t be for everybody. It is certainly not typical of the m/m shifter romances you usually find. There are no true mates, no Alpha/Omega dynamics.

Just two imperfect people, with two imperfect families, each struggling with their own complicated, dangerous lives.

I hope that the story resonates with some people. I hope that a couple people really love it. But ultimately it was a story I had to write to help me deal with some of my own pain, my own fear, my own struggles.

I don’t expect everyone to love it. It is enough that I really do.

Lupine Road is now available exclusively on Amazon.

This is all about my messy life.

My day job is a complicated thing. I work in sex and health education and I hate it exactly half of the time. It’s not even close to what I went to school for and I don’t really know how I fell into it. But… usually it works. I like teaching sex ed. I like doing HIV outreach. I love the relationships I’ve built with my community’s teachers and I especially love the relationship I have with the students I am privileged to teach.

I was offered a new job yesterday. It pays more. A lot more. It would be a return to the field I went to graduate school for and it would mean better hours and best of all, getting to work outside.

But I love my current job. Exactly half of the time.

But money.

But the kids… (God, how I will miss those kids)

But the river (God, how I missed the river)

But….

Buddha teaches us that all suffering comes from our attachment to things. I should be thrilled at this new opportunity, at more money, at a return to outdoor biological work where I belong. Yet, I hurt. This decision grieves me. So what am I so attached to?

My job now, teaching sex ed and doing HIV prevention and outreach, is my only outlet into the LGBTQ community in my real life. It is the only time I can freely and openly stand amongst my LGBTQ brothers and sisters. I have intense attachment to that, that one opportunity to step out of the shadows and feel the sun on my face.

I’ve been learning to let go of things. To practice detachment. I have to let go of my attachment to that sincere wish – that I could be open about who I am and that I can do so without consequences. That cannot happen; I have to let it go. My pain is attached to that wish.

I have to let go of my attachment to my fear – that I am not good enough, that I will fail, that I will disappoint. I have to let it go. My pain is attached to my fear.

My pain is attached to my indecision, to my doubt, to my regret that though I love the job exactly half of the time, the other half carried more weight. I wanted it to be something that it was not. I wanted to be someone that I was not. My pain is attached to all of that.

And so, I have to let it go. I have to recognize that no one will make this decision for me. No one will live this life for me. No one will give me the answers.

(Most of all, I have to let go of the fact that I am not a full time professional writer. Because my attachment to that dream is the strongest and deepest and I don’t remember a time without it. I feel like my life is built around that dream, that the bricks of my life are unwritten books, that every part of me moves to the beat of that secret heart. It causes me great pain. I rage, I cry, I want it so badly and

and I have to let. it. go.)

This is all about my messy life.

I’m trying to clean it up, take everything that doesn’t matter.

And let it go.

So, 2017 is upon us.

It’s been a rough fucking year. When I think back on it, there are moments that stand out: seeing the bodies of refugee children, washed up like trash on a beach, the Pulse massacre, which still months later brings tears to my eyes, and of course, the unimaginable election of an absolutely horror of human being to the highest office in our country.

Alan Rickman dying. David Bowie dying. George Michael dying. Carrie Fisher dying. That one really stings.

It’s been a bit of a battle in my personal life, too. Unpleasantness at my job, some family issues, the ongoing saga with my neck fracture. I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression this year, not to mention dysphoria.

But I’ve always got books.

I’ve read some really amazing books this year. Off the top of my head, I’m thinking Roan Parrish’s “Middle of Somewhere” series. I’m thinking of Hexworld. I’m thinking of Lisa Henry and N.R Walker and Michael Jensen and absolutely anything by TJ Klune.

Books have saved my life so many times.

And I’m so so grateful. This year I’ve had the privilege of working with people like Annetta Ribken, my incredible editor, and I’ve had the unbelievable luck to have made friends via Twitter and GR and Facebook, people like my book-twin Riina, who I know I can count on for writing support. I’ve talked with authors that I respect and whose books I adore. I’ve been welcomed into a community that I never could have imagined even 10 years ago. And I feel nothing but gratitude.

I turned 35 this year. I’m old enough to remember a time before social media and fiction forums and ebooks. I remember being a teenager and being utterly devastated by loneliness, out here in the middle of nowhere Montana, convinced that I was broken and wrong and that no one in the world could possibly understand how I felt. I’m grateful that so much has changed, that I can see 17 year old artists on Tumblr with their NSFW fan art and see 2k reblogs on it. I’m grateful that the internet has forged a path for connectivity, that lonely scared queer kids can find support, help, humanity, through their devices. So much has changed for the better. Sometimes I do wish that this time had come sooner, that selfishly I might have enjoyed such freedom when I was young. Or that I had been brave enough to bring that time to me.

I’m an optimist at heart, despite everything. I really do think that things are getting better. Yes, I know that we have a fight ahead of us. Here in Montana, we have a group of fucking Nazis terrorizing a community. And we have groups preparing to face them. It’s the same everywhere, I think. Hate rises and we beat it back into the dirt. We fight back. Excelsior. Ever upwards.

My goals this year are simple. In my personal life, I’d like to find a new job, one without such ghastly management. I’d like to buy a new, younger, trail horse, one that can take me all over the mountains. I’d like to do some serious fishing. I’d like get a double body weight deadlift and a body weight snatch.

And as for my books… well there have been ups and downs this year. On the plus side, I currently have four first drafts awaiting my attention. Three of those are novella length, all sitting around 20k words. The 4rth though is full length novel that I’m exciting to work on, about adventure and romance and of course, dragons. I’ve been on a bit of a dragon kick.

What I plan to work on in 2017:

I will finally publish the STILL FUCKING UNNAMED book I’ve been working on all year. Sometime in February or March, I imagine.

Hidebound, Book 3 of the Thaumaturge series, is coming along nicely. I’m a quarter of the way through the first draft.

I’m going to work in the three novellas, and get those edited and released. One is about ghosts, one is about time travel and one is about monsters from another dimension.

I’m working on a book about a young trans man who gets involved with some magical stuff. I’ve never written YA before and I’m not really sure that is IS YA, but the character is certainly younger than I usually write. There are dragons involved in this too.

I’m also outlining another book about monsters, set in the 1960’s. Think suburban American gothic.

If I manage somehow to get through all that, then I want to do edit and rework the first draft of my dragon adventure book, but that is currently on the back burner.

All of this is a tall order, since as we all know I write slower than preschooler and edit even slower. And unfortunately my day job takes up a lot of time, fucking bullshit. And I have to feed my Crossfit addiction, now that my neck is feeling better.

And somewhere in there, I have to make time for my family. My wonderful, crazy, amazing family.

I wish each of you a happy New Year.

Stay strong. Fight back. Take no shit. Excelsior. Ever upwards.

-Cal

I’ve been doing a whole lot of reading lately. Which is good. It’s part of the writing cycle, the other side of the coin. I’ve been soaking up words and stories and fan fictions and really reading some great stuff.

And, honestly, some not so great stuff.

I’m a fairly picky reader. I don’t mind setting a book aside if it is not working for me. I’ve got a busy life and every moment I have to read or write is precious. If I’m not into a book, I’m moving on to something else.

Which is why I’ve decided not to review anymore advanced reader copies (ARC’s). I get quite a few requests. If I like the book, I get my review up right away, but if I don’t… shit, I just hate giving bad reviews. And NOT leaving a review is even worse. So I’m not going to do them anymore and this is why:

I don’t want to leave negative reviews, or anything less than 3 stars.

Because I know how much negative reviews hurt. I’ve tried to build up thick skin and of course everyone is entitled to their opinion, but while sometimes there is constructive criticism, sometimes the reviews are simply “I didn’t like it. One star.” And that brings someone’s overall rating down and … I don’t know. I just don’t feel the need to do that to someone. If I don’t like something, I’m going to move on. I just want to put out positive vibes.

So, no more ARC’s for me.

End of dispatch.

I haven’t updated this blog since I released Boneyard back in May.

In that time, I’ve written half a dozen blog posts and then deleted them. I’ve written about the controversies in the m/m genre, about the tragedy of the Orlando shooting, about religion, about books and writing and sexual identities and the struggles of trying to make it as a writer while still working a full time job and getting about 45 minutes a day to work on my books.

I deleted them all cause I’m just not really in a good headspace right now and I’m not sure sharing so much online is a good idea, especially for someone trying to keep their private and personal lives separate.

So here’s my update:

I’m writing, as much as I can. I have one completed novel with my editor, and I hope to release it by November 1st. It has a working name, but the title is likely to change. It’s about werewolves.

I’m well into Hidebound, Thaumaturge #3. But I work slowly, as you know by now, and I don’t anticipate this seeing publication until spring 2017, at the earliest.

I have a ghost story that I’m working on.

I have several Thaumaturge shorts that I really want to finish and publish, and I plan to as soon as I get a big block of time to work on them.

I have a time travel novella that I’m working on.

I’ve got a contemporary romance outlined, but it’s on the back burner until later.

I have one completed fantasy m/m novel that, fingers crossed, will get a second draft and some edits and maybe some day see the light of day.

I have a futuristic vampire dystopian short, the first of a new series, that needs massive edits.

I have a dozen or so other outlines and ideas, but I have very time to develop them.

I’m not a fast writer. I have a busy, messy life. I try really hard to get words and edits in every day, but between work, Crossfit, my son and my family, my time is limited. I spent a lot of time horseback riding this summer, which gave me a lot of time to dream. My plot bunny closet is full. I just need time to develop and edit and write.

Thanks for my reading my books, guys. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I promise I’m working, just slowly. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Finally being the key word. Way back in August of 2015, after The Dead was published, I thought to myself, “I can easily write, edit, and publish four or five books a year. No problem.”

Yeah, except when I wrote, edit, and published The Dead, I was fresh from graduate school and hadn’t found a job yet.

I have a job now.

Like, a real adult job with set hours, and benefits, and (apparently) responsibilities. I can’t dedicate eight hours a day to writing.

So that’s why Boneyard took so long. Because I drastically underestimated how exhausting it would be to work full time, be an attentive and engaged parent, feed my Crossfit obsession, and also have the time/brainpower/energy to write.

I get frustrated sometimes, when I see other authors churning out title after title. I know that most of those authors don’t write full time, and they are producing way more than me. I get mad at myself. Why, I rage, did I spend three hours binge-watching Netflix when I could have been writing? Why did I do that? Where are my priorities?

Really, I don’t know. My creativity waxes and wanes. Some days I write two sentences. Other days it pours out in a flood.

Boneyard took a long time to edit. I rewrote nearly the whole book, and in the end, I’m glad I did. It turned out much better than I had originally wrote it (thank God for editors!). I’m deep into book 3 now, and I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’m not going to send this one out before its ready. I’m going to meticulously self edit before I send it along to my editor. This should speed up the editing process and while I’m not setting a date on HideBound (Book 3) just set, I am reasonably confident that I can have it out … yeah, no. I’m not even going to do that. That just puts pressure on me. I have to remind myself that I don’t do this professionally yet. Right now, it’s a hobby that I hope will one day turn into a profession, and therefor quality has to come before quantity.

So there you go, kids! I hope you like Boneyard and yeah, I know I left it at a bit of a cliffhanger, but the series will continue. In fact, keep your eyes peeled for a short coming up in the next few weeks. That I can promise you.

Right now, my FB/Twitter feeds are awash with memes about love and relationships and commitment. Blah blah blah, Marilyn Monroe misquotes, cute puppies, random love Bible quotes. I went to the grocery store and stood in line with about fifteen guys buying plastic-wrapped flowers. There’s chocolate everywhere.

In other words, it’s Valentine’s Day. And nothing says love than when it’s expressed in 140 characters or less.

So in honor of this day of luuurrvvee, I present to you…. my top five favorite m/m couples. These guys are like the book equivalent of comfort food – they never fail to cheer me up and warm the cockles of my black, black, heart.

Charlie and Travis, Red Dirt Heart Series by N.R. Walker

These boys. My all-time, absolute favorite fictional couple. I love these two. I love them individually and I really love them together. I have read and re-read this series more than any other series ever and I wish that I could go back in time to before I read RDH so that I could experience the magic of reading it the first time all over again.

Whyborne and Griffin, Widdershins Series by Jordan L. Hawk

Widdershins was the first professional m/m book I ever read. Before that, I devoured fan fiction, searching for the relationships and connections that I craved. Then I found some really crappy gay literature on Amazon. Seriously appallingly bad and I was despondent, thinking that Lord John from Outlander would be the only well-written fully-fleshed out story of m/m love I would ever find.

And then, one October day, completely by chance, I downloaded Widdershins.

And everything changed.

But to be clear, I love Whyborne and Griffin all on their own, not because I have deep emotions attached to the book. Griffin is one of my favorite characters ever and Whyborne – wonderful, awkward, nerdy Whyborne – how can you not love that guy? I love their relationship, I believe their relationship, and over and over, they make me smile.

Vic and Jacob, PysCop Series by Jordan Castillo Price

Victor Bayne is my all-time favorite character. His snark. His moodiness. How he’s convinced Jacob only wants him for his abilities but we all know that Jacob is crazy over him. Their relationship is well balanced with the (amazing) plot, but does take a back seat in the later books. For that reason, I do prefer the first couple of books in the series, though I love them all and have re-read them numerous times. That time when Vic was like, “maybe Jacob and I can get married in Canada”? Squee! I love these two.

Jack and D, Zero at the Bone by Jane Seville

This is the story of two men falling in love, despite the unbelievable circumstances and obstacles life has put in their paths. I can’t think of another book where the emotions feel so raw and realistic. I feel right along with these guys. When I first read this one, I was expecting something else entirely. I’m not really big on mafia/mob/crime tropes, so when this was recommended to me, I was sort of ho-hum about it.

But I love this book and I love it because of the relationship between Jack and D, who are two of the best written characters I have ever run across.

Brady and Cam, Dark Space, by Lisa Henry

Sci-fi, in general, isn’t my thing. Unless its Star Wars. But I love this book crazy and I love the relationship between Brady and Cam. If you now me at all, you know I’m a firm believer that couples need time and room for feelings to grow. I can’t stand insta-love – its almost unforgivable for me. This book, which had every excuse to force a soul mates, insta-love connection, instead did the exact opposite and built a relationship that felt real and honest and genuine. And I loved it. Both of these guys are awesome and together they are fantastic.

There’s at least half a dozen other couples that are very strong contenders (pretty much every K.J Charlers and Heidi Cullinan couple, ever)  And there’s some threesomes that I didn’t mention (Caleb, Gray, and John, for example). And there’s certainly a number of unforgettable characters that I just love (looking at you, Adrian English) but can’t get behind the other half of the couple (cough, Jake Riordan). 

And of course, two of my own characters, Leo and Ebron. I can’t not mention them. Cause they fight and they have issues but they love each other. You guys don’t know how they are with each other when we’re alone.

(Oh, this might be a good place to plug my next book, Boneyard, which is in edits and, God willing, will be published sometime in April. Fingers crossed.)

These couples – and the authors who created them – have enriched my life so much. Nobody in my real life reads or knows I read and write m/m and I know that romance as a genre gets a lot of grief, but I really can’t imagine my life without these books, this genre, these writers, as part of it. Does it sound cheesy to say that I’ve learned a lot about love (and about myself) from these books?

Fuck it. I have.

Happy Valentine’s Day, guys.

I have half a dozen or so characters that have been with me since I was a kid. They were my imaginary friends then, and still are now. They’re surpisingly good company, considering that they’re, y’know, fictional.

I talk to them during the day, I dream with them at night. They’re my resident ghosts, the ones who share space in my head, the ones who will always be with me. The ones who have always been there.

Others turn up unexpectedly, inspired by something innocuous or ridiculous: the broken window on a house, the bared ankle of a stranger sitting on a bench, the guy wearing a hand puppet at the gas pump, singing to himself. These ones bring the stories with them, like movie trailers appearing before my eyes.

And some characters I have to go find, searching through an empty world for a person to fill it.

I imagine it’s the same for other writers, but I do wonder sometimes if other writers rely on their characters as much as I do. I exist in two separate worlds and often it feels to be that my imaginary world is more real than actual reality. So much of my life is lived in my head.

Ebron, the MC from The Dead, came to me out of the blue one day and pretty much has been making me crazy ever since. Because he has so many stories, and I struggle to tell them. Boneyard, the second in the Thaumaturge series, is coming along at a glacial pace and part of the problem is I have Big Decisions to make about where Ebron’s story will go and where he will end up. I want to right by him, but once I decide, there’s no going back and that determines the trajectory for both this book and the next one in the series.

Plus, a few new characters have popped up and I’m struggling with them to, not sure of their motivations. Needless the say, Boneyard is getting quite an overhaul and barely resembles the first draft I submitted to my editor all those months ago.

I’m getting there. I’m working every day. The Thaumaturge short, Season’s Bleeding, is now available at Amazon, Smashwords, and ARe. I’ve got a decent chunk of the unnamed stand-alone novel finished. I’ve got outlines and bits and pieces in the works.

But I’m ignoring all of that until Boneyard is done.

Decisions, decisions.