Okay, so I really suck at this updating regularly thing. To those of you who know me, that’s no surprise. To those of you who are new here, that’s what you’re in for–infrequent and inconstant updates. Sorry, that’s just how this writer girl rolls.
Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, a bit of a state of the writing union. Forgotten Magic has officially been finished. The words “THE END” were written and everything. I haven’t started the editing process yet, because that’s the story I’m going to be workshopping the start of at Viable Paradise in a month. (Please hold while I do a little happy dance about that. – - – Okay, done.)
I’ve started working on another project in the meantime, a shorter-form piece to act as a bit of a palate cleanser between my novels. I am going to really try to get some more shorts done in the coming months. I’ve got several started, but they always seem to want to transform into something longer and I put them aside before getting sucked in. I have one flash piece and a poem I need to spend some time editing and then shop around. Maybe I’ll set some time aside this weekend for that so I can submit them next week.
In Broods of Fenrir news, I’ve started the third book. It’s just a handful of scenes right now and the plot is still forming in my head, but at least there are words and some of them even form sentences! In fact, I’ll share what is currently the first scene with you now. As usual with the snippets from my writing journal, it hasn’t been edited and is still rough. There’s also no promise that this scene will remain in its current form, or any other form in the final manuscript because many things can change between now and then. Be warned, there are spoilers from the previous books in this scene if you haven’t read them yet. And now, on with the show…
I wrote a poem last night. I was kind of shocked because I’m not really a poet. That wasn’t the only amazing thing about the experience though. I think it might have been the first moment when I actually thought, “Holy shit, I’m really a writer.” I’ll explain, because I’m sure that’s a little strange to hear from me. The poem summarizes a week’s worth of interesting experiences into a single moment that never really happened, but shows what those disparate points in time taught me when taken together.
I’ve never really thought of myself as ‘that writer.’ You know, the one who’s deep and tortured and has a message. I write stories I’d like to read. I invent characters and put them in difficult situations to see how they’d react. This is the first time I learned something about life that I wanted to share. It was kind of amazing. Anyway, I’m not posting the poem up here just yet. I’d like to polish it up and send it out a few places to see if anyone picks it up. I will tell you the title though: “Old Woman in a Cuban Bakery”
If you like, tell me something awesome that happened to you this week. I’d love to hear about it.
I bet you thought I forgot about you, didn’t you? Come on. You can admit it. Well I didn’t! It just so happens I was actually writing something new. Since November last year I haven’t written anything but Forgotten Magic so I’m kind of relieved I actually felt the itch this week. I decided to change the name of this little column, because I like how Moore Writes sounds.
This is a bit of a character profile from something new. It will never make it into the book, but it’s part of my ‘getting to know you’ process to write out a few scenes with my characters just so I can get a sense of them and find their voice. Right now it feels like this will be a straight-forward distopian, but that could always change. This particular lady wakes several decades after some sort of cataclysm and finds the world very different from the one she fell asleep in. Only about a thousand word peek. I have to keep some mystery!
This is a completely unedited first draft, so please excuse the roughness.
Andi lifted her face into the sunlight and concentrated on blocking out the cacophony of sound behind her. The warmth of the sun drove the lingering chill from her body, but didn’t feel quite right. Not that she trusted the fragmented memories that rose like waves into her awareness, descending once again into the inky darkness of her subconscious too quickly for her to sense more than the vaguest of forms.
The droning alarm gave a final choked whine before cutting off once and for all. The silence left in its wake was almost disorienting after the constant noise. She shook her head, hoping to clear some of the fog that drifted there, but was only rewarded with a cloying dizziness that would have emptied her stomach if there had been anything inside. She rested her head against the metal door frame to avoid falling to her knees as her stomach heaved. Her hands shook as she drew in a harsh breath and steadied herself.
She looked around the room she had just passed through to reach the outside. Dark computer terminals, two chairs knocked to the ground, and a closet marked ‘emergency use only’, it had to be a control room for the complex she’d been in. She headed to the closet and fumbled with the latch for a moment before her fingers cooperated. She didn’t know what she’d hoped to find hidden away for just such an occasion, but inside there was nothing, not even a layer of dust.
“Figures.” The rough sound of her voice echoed in the empty room, upsetting the uneasy silence that had replaced the dying klaxon.
Andi didn’t dare go back to the room she’d woken in. The choking cloud of chemicals had almost done her in the first time. Then there were the forms she’d only barely made out in the darkness and confusion, mummified corpses entombed in enclosures exactly like the one she’d found herself in on waking. Curling fingers of dread gripped the back of her neck. With effort she willed the gruesome images away and concentrated on getting herself out of this alive. Though she was having trouble with her memory, at lease her sense of self was intact.
She checked the pockets of the white coveralls she wore and found nothing, not even pocket lint. The logo sewn into the right breast wasn’t one she recognized, the letters A and E inscribed in a circle in green and blue. She searched the drawers in the control room, coming up with a disappointing handful of paper clips and rubber bands that she stowed in the hip pocket of the coveralls.
Glancing back at the room passageway she’d entered through, she dismissed the idea of going back to scrounge a second time. She had no idea about the source of the black smoke, or what prolonged exposure might do to her. She returned to the exit and climbed the stairs to look outside, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Cracked earth and scrub brush stretched to the distant horizon in every direction, unbroken by hills or trees.
A rumble from somewhere under her convinced her that she needed to get moving. She climbed the rest of the steps and hauled herself outside, crouching for a few seconds and looking around before standing. Even from the higher vantage point, nothing in the landscape stood out. Where the devil was she?
She strained to put together her memories of where she’d been before waking, but they eluded her. The harder she tried to grip them, the quicker they seemed to slip away. She filed that as a problem to deal with later when she had the luxury of time without the threat of something exploding under her feet. She picked out the largest shrub in her field of vision and moved toward it.
First, let me start with an apology for not updating for a long while. Since the New Year I’ve had a whole bunch going on, but that’s really no excuse. Going forward I am going to do my absolute level best to update at least weekly, even if it’s some ridiculous nonsense, which it will likely be about half the time.
Anyway, onwards and upwards. I’m on schedule to graduate from my Master’s program in May. The project I’ve decided to submit is the new novel I’m working on. I’m unsure as I’m writing this if I’ve mentioned what it’s about on here yet, so let’s save it as another update if not. (Look at me, milking this thing already.)
I’ve got another Broods of Fenrir short in the works. It will be another freebie, so it will go up here whenever it’s ready. Watch this space!
The final bit of news I wanted to share was that you will soon be able to buy all my books from right here, on my website via Gumroad. Pretty linkies below.
PS for authors: Gumroad is very user friendly and so far seems an easy way to sell direct to customers. So if you’ve been looking for that like I have, check them out!
After killing his sadistic brother, Brand inherits the responsibility for his brother’s brood. Now, he must convince the brood that their barbaric way of life belongs in the past and demand change in order to secure their future.
Crushed by the death of his mate, Gunni believes it’s only a matter of time before he succumbs to the loneliness that plagues his life. He follows Brand out of loyalty, but he secretly craves the peace that death will bring—until he is confronted with the most infuriating human he’s ever met.
Leo is a throwback who has never quite fit in with human society. Drawn into the savage world of the werewolves, not entirely against his will, he discovers that the Broods of Fenrir don’t fear much… except him.
These three conflicting personalities unite in pursuit of an unscrupulous trapper who has taken a member of Brand’s brood captive. They must track him down before he uncovers what they are and their secret is revealed.
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Length: 58,000 words or 210 paperback pages
Warnings: Violence, Strong Language and Sexual Content