James Osiris Baldwin's Blog

I need to make an honest apology to you all. It’s been two years since Archemi #6 was published, and I still don’t have Book 7. For that, I am deeply sorry.

I believe strongly that when someone reads my work, I am making an implicit contract with them to finish that work. You’re sticking your money and time into reading or viewing something I made, and that’s very important to me. Archemi was written during some of the most objectively difficult events in my life: marriage, homelessness, working multiple jobs while attempting to save the marriage which ended in failure, nine months of more homelessness, and then finally the gain of a stable, secure home. I’m acutely aware I would not have this house if not for the fans of Archemi, both the written and audio versions, and also for the efforts of Soundbooth Theater and especially Justin.

The problem with post-traumatic stress is the ‘post’ – the mental health issues really hit AFTER the crisis is over. Now that all the chaos is done and my life is objectively peaceful for the first time in… well, maybe ever, my mental health tanked. The depression reached the deepest, darkest point in September of this year. It was triggered by the necessity of going back through many photos and documents from my marriage for immigration purposes, which required me to put together a full timeline of the relationship and basically led to me having to relive a lot of it. It was not a good time.

I’m on medication now, which is starting to help. But the long and short of it is that I haven’t been writing. I really wish I was one of those people who could just churn out 5k words a day, but even on my best days, I can manage roughly 2000. And quite bluntly, I haven’t been. It was a struggle to get out of bed for about two months. I’m now able to do that, and have been putting what energy I have into my work on the second season of the Dungeon Crawler Carl Audio Immersion Tunnel. I DID manage to finish I Am Legion and hand it over to Aethon and Soundbooth, so I do still have one thing coming out early next year.

All I can really do is apologize, and assure my fans and Patrons that Archemi is NOT abandoned. I’m just dealing with a lot of bad head noise and am trying to recover the ability to write and publish in the aftermath of seven very tumultuous, stressful years. I’ve been able to draw, and have been getting back in touch with my visual art. The Voidhunter stuff is connected to Archemi, by the way. Min-joon and Hector’s paths eventually intersect, though I won’t reveal how until the main Archemi series is finished.

I’m not convinced I will be able to save my writing career in the long run. I may just not be strong enough to compete with healthier, less neurotic, more productive authors, especially in the upcoming socio-political climate. But I AM committed to finishing what I started, even if it takes longer than I would like. I can at least promise that much.

I am VERY pleased to announce that the sixth book in Archemi Online is now live on Audible!

Buy it here: https://www.audible.com/pd/B0C8BGHRWJ/…

Get the first five here!

1) https://www.audible.com/pd/Dragon-Seed-Audiobook/B07KWG9LBY

2) https://www.audible.com/…/Trial-by-Fire-A…/B07XYG61ZV

3) https://www.audible.com/…/Kingdom-Come-A…/B08BB3BRZJ

4) https://www.audible.com/pd/Warsinger-Audiobook/B08ZYTTNTN

5) https://www.audible.com/…/Spear-of-Destiny-A…/B09L8NB6MH

One delightful sunny morning, I woke up on a beach: naked, alone, with no idea how I’d gotten there.

But you know what I DID have?

Tentacles. Four of them, each thicker than a can of beer and sheathed in black armored plates. And as soon as I drew in my first breath, all of them began whipping around like out-of-control fire hoses.

“What in the donkey-loving FUCK is going on!?” is what I tried to yell, but it came out more like ‘HHROOORGH! RRRAAAGH!’ and then ‘PFFFT HHHHERRRRK!’ as they pitched me onto my face and I inhaled a lungful of sand through my… muzzle?

After a few minutes of flailing around on my back like a monster straight out of some Japanese porno, I realized I couldn’t get my feet under me because I had four legs, not two. After figuring this out, I struggled upright, swaying as I tried to get my bearings.

First things first: the beach. Waves lapped the shore to my left. The wind slithering over my skin was warm and humid. There was an outcrop of limestone bluffs to my right, elevated land vanishing into a dense wall of virgin jungle. As beaches went, this one was pretty nice. Crystal clear water. White sand. The kind of beautiful untouched place that no longer existed on Earth.

My sense of reality continued to disintegrate as I pawed at my face and found a bullet-shaped snout that ended in not two, not four, but SIX nostril vents. I had claws. I had thin, whisker-like spines that grew between the armored plates that hugged my decidedly not-human flanks. I had a long, whippy tail that ended in a flattened, sword-like blade. All of this led to one inescapable conclusion. Something was severely, monumentally fucked up. Not only was I not human, I couldn’t remember a goddamn thing before waking up. I must’ve had a name, a job, a life… but when I searched back for memories of a time before ‘now’, there was nothing but a big black pause.

“Okay. Take a deep breath. You’re alive… kind of. No reason to be a skittish little bitch nugget.” I wobbled on my feet. “This is a VR of some kind. It has to be.”

Just as I thought that, a bright green bar appeared in the corner of my eye, showing I had just 148 out of 1495 HP. Other holographic meters appeared below it. A Stamina bar, slowly filling up from zero. A teardrop-shaped Hydration meter and a steak-shaped Nourishment meter, both half-full. There was a temperature gauge beneath that. It was 88 degrees in sunny Wherever-The-Fuck this was.

I was a digital native, half-raised in virtual environments. Logic dictated that if I had a Heads’ Up Display and stats, there had to be a system interface for this… game? A menu, an access portal, something. I tried to speak with my shark mouth, but all that came out was a garbled growl. Next thing I tried was calling it telepathically. “Show menu!”

There was no menu at first. Instead, blazing lines of holographic text appeared in the air in front of me, read out by a cool, genderless voice.

[Welcome to the The Jungle, .]

[Now you have awoken, you have one choice to make.]

[Fight and survive, or die.]

“Fight and… now you just wait a goddamn minute! I ain’t choosing shit until I learn who I am, why I’m here, and why I look like a Xenomorph that fucked a panther!” I snarled, then sneezed. As I did, the forest of armored tentacles shot down around me like spasming harpoons. The damn things hit the ground so hard they both scared the shit out of me and threw me off-balance. Staggering to the side, I pitched onto my face and ate dirt a second time.

“HHHAAACK!” The sand sure tasted real.

The text was visible even when my eyes were closed, and as I picked myself up, two large holographic buttons appeared. They were red, crawling with hot embers. One read ‘Sorvive’. The other read ‘Die’. Yes, they really had spelled ‘Survive’ with an ‘O’.

I stared at the buttons for a few long moments. This time, I tried thinking at them. “Server information. What is this place?”

There was no response. The ‘Sorvive’ and ‘Die’ buttons hovered patiently.

“Server Information, motherfucker! Where the hell am I?!”

[, if you do not accept the Terms and Conditions, you will be erased in 9.9 seconds.]

A timer leapt up, and my oversized heart stuttered.

“AUK!” When I tried to reply aloud, all that came out was a deep honk. I scowled, pulling my gums back from my teeth. “Fine! I WILL sorvive! And you better believe that as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive!”

The Sorvive button crackled with flames, then flared with white light and vanished. The Die button crumbled away into pixelated dust. A three-panel screen appeared in their place. The right panel was a picture of ‘me’ with some empty tables. My xenomorph-panther analogy was actually pretty close on the money. I had a muscular streamlined body, as dense as a shark’s, with dexterous clawed ‘hands’ and feet made for climbing, gripping, and slashing. Narrow, glowing blue eyes set behind the twin grilles of nostrils, three to either side of a smooth bullet-shaped muzzle. Hinged jaws, like a snake’s, filled with tapering, needle-sharp fangs. And tentacles. Don’t forget those.

Level 1

Prime Element: Body

Mundane Element: Psionic

Hidden Element: Poison

Class: Legendary

Vitality: 148/1495 HP

Carry Weight: 81kg (180lb)

Strength: 315

Speed: 455

Stamina: 230/355

Damage: B+

Defense: D-

Instincts: A+

Just what the world needs: a killing machine that disappears into thin air.

The Reaper is a Legion that terrifies even the bravest Gladiators. An eight-limbed ambush predator with light-bending stealth abilities, the Reaper’s extreme speed combined with its high damage, multi-limb attacks, armor piercing spines and three dimensions of mobility make this Body/Psionic/Poison Greater Legion a formidable foe and an even more formidable thrall.

The Reaper has two elemental evolution paths. The Stalker path generates kinetic mines and is armed with formidable Psionic ranged attacks. The Nemesis can drain the abilities, stats, and life force from other Legions with its key ability, Soul Drain, as well as dealing powerful melee attacks with its poisonous fangs and spines.

I took all that in with a growing feeling of disbelief. The The Jungle was a video game… but I didn’t rightfully recall going through any kind of upload, let alone a character creation process.

“Jesus Christ. If I’ve been Isekai’d, I’m going to punch a baby dolphin into the sun.” I irritably swiped through the other menus, trying to figure out what I’d gotten myself into: and how.

The central panel of the menu had all my active game information. There was a blank space labeled ‘Lives’. Beneath that were numeric HP, hydration, nourishment, fatigue and stamina bars. Underneath those were an EXP meter, Equipped Item slots, and a Hotbar for me to insert quick-use items. I also had a small gear panel with three slots: Saddle, Saddlebags, and… Collar? The fuck did these people think I was? A horse?

The left-hand pane featured a very esoteric-looking sigil:

Underneath that was what looked like some kind of skill tree, currently greyed out and inaccessible. I tried to close the menu, but instead of shutting down, the narrator resumed speaking in its pleasant, calm, ‘call center operator trying to calm a pissed off old lady’ voice:

[Welcome to Survival of the Fittest, . You have awoken in the Fifth Realm: The Island of The Jungle, otherwise known as The The Jungle. It is the arena in which the game of life and death is played.]

[I am the AI who oversees this world. My name is Chorus. It is my duty to inform Gladiators of the rules.]

I sighed. As AIs went, Chorus seemed about as sophisticated as the shitty menu UX and badly spelled buttons. “I don’t want to hear the damn rules. How do I log out?”

[You cannot.]

A chill tightened my chest at that simple, firm reply. “Then why the fuck am I here? Because there’s no way in hell I’d have logged into something I can’t leave.”

[You are a Gladiator, and the The Jungle is your testing ground. It is the vessel in which Champions are forged.]

[To leave The Jungle and ascend through the Five Realms, you must find and slay the Daeva, servants of Demiurgos, the false god who has imprisoned you here.]

My eyes narrowed. This just kept getting whackier and whackier.

[Gladiators must battle the Daeva in single combat, without the help of other humans. However, you share this world with the Legions, powerful monsters who may fight by your side. Enslave Legions and train them to suit your purposes, defeat the Daeva, and you will claim rewards beyond your wildest imaginings.]

“ENSLAVE?! Now you just wait a hot damn minute!” My back arched up like a cat’s.

[Gladiators may have two Legion companions: one Greater Legion and one Lesser Legion. For a Greater Legion to realize its true potential, it must be paired with a Lesser Legion who enhances its combat abilities. This synthesis between your Legions will ensure victory—or failure.]

[All Legions are cunning and dangerous. They will not obey cowards. If you wish to command a Legion, you must battle and subdue it in single combat, then attach a Command Collar. All players are issued two Soul-Bonded Command Collars. You will find them in your Inventory.]

[The only time that rules apply to combat are in Arena battles. These are formal, Legion-only battles with guidelines which must be obeyed. My Arena battle sub-routine, the Colosseum Master, will advise you of these rules.]

[If you achieve the impossible, arise through all Five Realms, and defeat Demiurgos, you and your Legions will Ascend. Your reward is eternal paradise on the Platinum EdenFRAME of your choice, in perpetuity.]

[There are no other combat restrictions. Other Gladiators will try to stop your rightful ascent. Kill or be killed.]

The chill gripped my heart and spread to my legs as that statement sunk in. An EdenFRAME?

If this was an EdenFRAME, then I was dead.

[Every gladiator has nine lives. There are no exceptions. When you lose your last life, you will be extinguished.]

[Survival of the Fittest does not reward weakness. If you do not fight, you will age at ten times the normal human rate and die permanently, even if you still have all of your lives.]

[You are also being watched. Survival of the Fittest has over a fifty million Spectators accessing the servers every day. Grow your audience, gain Patrons, and earn their favor. Their gifts may mean the difference between life and death. Learn more about Sponsors and Tributes in your Channel tab.]

[Your first task is to survive. Good luck.]

“Wait! Who sent me here?” I took a step forward, even though there was no one there. “How did I die to end up in this place!? Chorus!”

There was no reply. The bitch—or bastard, I still wasn’t sure—cut me off.

Brute Force: Survivor will be released on March 1 2023. Click the button to pre-order it on Amazon!

“My lady, the Black Army has served the Crown faithfully and well for two generations,” Istvan pointed out. “This isn’t much different, and the elected General His Grace is offering as leader is-“

“If I need the counsel of a half-breed peasant, I’ll ask for it,” Vargan spat.

I sucked a deep breath through my nose, and pointed toward the door. “That’s it. Get out.”

“Excuse me?” The countess drew herself up like a snake about to strike. “I am your-“

“I don’t care if you have the pedigree of a cocker spaniel and shit solid gold nuggets from your pure-bred ass,” I said, voice low and hard. “No one stands in front of me and insults my men. Now get the fuck out of my War Room before I have you dragged out.”

The Archemi #6 manuscript is currently sitting at 57,597 words. Most of that was done over the last couple weeks. There’s only 17,500 words to the halfway mark of the book, which is when I will put the pre-order up for sale. That translates to about 10 days of work at my current pace.

I’m hopeful for a late September or early October release in ebook and paperback. My goal is to finish the full 150,000 word draft by end of August.

Once I hit that 75,000 word milestone, I’ll be pausing my focus on wordcount to edit and improve the first half half of the book, then part 1 of Crowned in Black will go to beta-readers and Patreon subscribers for feedback before I really commit to the second half.

If everything goes to plan and the book is drafted by end of August, I’ll edit the first half of the book a second time, and send it to Soundbooth so the awesome crew there can get started on the preliminaries, then edit the second half and forward it a couple weeks after that. The audio won’t be out at the same time as the book, but we try to close that production gap whenever possible.

The cover is freaking awesome.

I leave this spot – and Montana – on the 11th. It’s back to Idaho for a couple of days while I stock up, pick up some deliveries, and see about making my wardrobe more wilderness friendly.

I added 10,000 words to Archemi so far this week. I’m hoping to put in another 5000 before I leave on Monday.

If anyone is interested in hosting me and the girls in Montana, Idaho, Utah, or Colorado, let me know! I’d be happy to come visit.

Hello from southeastern Montana! Barring the one dangerous encounter I talk about in this video, I’m having a great time in this incredibly beautiful state, working on Archemi #6 and recovering from the stress of the first half of this year.

I’ve been living in the van for almost a month now, and so far, absolutely no regrets.

Muriel hard at work, helping me with my novel planning.

Oops.

I’ve discovered that I love rest stops. Some RVers and nomads hate rest stops and truck stops because of the noise. There’s generally a battalion of semitrucks idling at these places, because truckers also use them to sleep, but I personally find the noise soothing.

I had a decent rest at a rest stop near Moses Lake, WA, and then set off east. My goal was to reach Pullman, WA, then cross into Idaho and set up in the Knife Edge Campground on Idaho’s Hwy 12. If only I knew the day I was about to have.

The first leg was great. I got to Pullman, went to the gym, worked out hard, got some lunch. Planet Fitness has massage chairs for Black Card Members, so I sat in a chair and vibrated myself into a higher state of consciousness. I was feeling awesome by the time I got back in the van and set off for Idaho, anticipating a relaxing 2-hour drive through beautiful forest. Early on in my foray onto Hwy 12, I found an awesome rest stop with a 16-hour stay limit and almost no one there, and considered staying there for the day to get some work done… but then uttered the famous last words of every Australian who has ever done something dumb as hell – “Ahh, she’ll be right, mate.” – and decided to continue on to what I hoped would be a 7-10 day camp.

Well, my campsite was closed. And the one after that. And the one after that was $14 a night, cash only, and I wasn’t carrying any cash because I’m a moron. By that point, I was too far from the rest stop to go back, so I pressed on forward. I ended up stubbornly driving across most of northern Idaho, getting increasingly anxious about finding a place to set up camp. The cats were getting whiny and anxious because I was nervous. The deer were stupid and scrambled up onto the road every ten miles or so. It was not the lovely forest drive I’d hoped

The mistakes were mine. I should definitely keep some cash on hand, for one thing, and plot my routes according to stay locations, not what I think I want to see. As it turns out, the Clearwater Nat Forest is lovely, but monotonous when driving through it for 5 hours. Especially while tired.

Eventually, I made it to the wonderful rest stop at Lolo Pass: 5500-ish feet above sea level, barely spitting distance from the border of Montana. There are no rules posted here, but I knew from the last rest stop that Idaho generally lets you stay overnight in your car if you need, so I slept here. It turned out to be one of the best nights of sleep I’ve ever had in my life. Quiet, peaceful, clean. The rest stop is basically a resort stop for truckers and van lifers compared to the ones in WA.

If you road trip, it’s important not to abuse these rest stops – always respect the time limits, leave no trace, don’t dump trash outside of the bins, etc. But they’re a blessing for anyone who is traveling. Idaho really lays out the red carpet for us, too.

Now I’m off to Montana, briefly, to get some work done before swinging back down into Idaho again and heading south. I still need to find somewhere to stay for at least a week to get some more writing done on Crowned in Black… the driving all day + overnight stay routine is not great for getting words on the page.