A Tale about Time…

Threshold hits next week, and to be honest, I didn’t expect this release to be as big of a deal as it is. Not “big deal” like it’s going to be massive or successful (though I hope) but it’s a big deal to me and my time as a writer, and the closer we get, the more I realize that impact.

2007. I was halfway through my film degree, and every thought was a lofty ambition. I wrote scripts and short stories and shot films and immersed myself in creativity. There was nothing I couldn’t do with enough ink and caffeine. I had recently discovered NaNoWriMo (though I was far from finding a group) and was certain this was something I wanted to do.

Threshold was a buzzing in my brain that, like most of my stories, started with an idea. It would be a beautiful failure that year, but it would follow me. The story had planted a seed in my brain, and that seed began to flourish. It was an idea that I knew would get under people’s skin – how could it not?

My delight is introducing my readers to something ordinary and building that into something terrible that clings to them in reality. I like to think I am accomplishing that. With Empty Hallways, I capitalized on the inherent creepiness of hospitals. In Threshold, I explore the oddity that is our own reflections.

Have you ever just stared at your reflection? Not yourself, but your reflection: the person looking back at you; the world they are limited to living in. But if you stare too long, things start to unravel. You can say a word so many times, it stops making sense and feels more like a made up sound. I’ve stared at my reflection so long that it doesn’t even compute anymore: just a mess of shapes and colors that follow my impulses. That’s where the fun begins.

If you stare too long at any object, your brain starts canceling out unnecessary information. In other words, your reflection changes. It starts taking on a life of its own. (Yes, this is the kind of insanity that some of my stories start from.)

I tried to gather all of these thoughts and put them onto paper and create a story. I was clearly not ready back in 2007, but the seed kept growing. The vignettes I created back then remain. A couple of scenes in the book are now polished, fully-realized ideas that started back then.

The first scrawled page of what would be Threshold…

Flash forward about ten years. I’m looking for my next novel, when I remember this concept. I start fleshing out the idea, but I’m distracted by flashy concepts and fun new ideas. I continue to struggle with the idea – because sometimes you do. Everything is hard now and again. Some stories come easy; some not at all.

The bones got organized, and life decided to get complicated. I started taking some online classes. Bailey and I bought a house. Then we got married. And through all this wonderment, writing took a back seat. I plinked around a little, I got some things written, but mostly, the author was sleeping.

I have a number of writing groups I belong to – or have belonged to. But while Threshold was still a dusty, shambling mess, a new group formed. We meet pretty regularly. It’s less a writing group and more a support group made of writers. What’s the difference? No competition for starters. We share in each other’s successes and frustrations. We don’t judge. We are there for each other. I’ve had good groups before, but this is an intimate group of honest friends – they’re helpful and even their physical presence and the sound of their typing was its own security. Threshold came together under this group’s support.

It wasn’t this group alone. Bailey has always been there, supporting me through the frustration and the threats and the whining (oh, how I can whine when the book won’t cooperate). My friends regularly asked about how it was coming along. People I met at shows chatted with me about the story, and were excited for it to happen.

Eventually, it did.

Next week, you’ll see for yourself.

But it has been a community effort, whether they knew they were a community rallied around me and a story, I don’t know, but the people in my life are amazing supporters. Thank you.

Threshold releases May 1, kindle and paperback. Preorder now.

Back in the saddle…

As promised, something more lengthy than my quick announcement this week.

First, in case you missed the post: Threshold will be out this year.

Hang on, let me say that again:

Threshold will be out this year.

After a number of struggles, I’ve succeeded in this endeavor. That success bleeds further than simply releasing a book. This has been an exercise in life and existence more than it ever was about the writing, and I was wholly foolish to think it was anything so small. In the time between starting the manuscript and now, I:

  • bought a house
  • got married
  • had a summer reception
  • turned 40

And those are milestones; I am still a human being who has a day job, helps around the house, and tries to have some downtime here and there. Between all these different facets of myself – really, different personas – I got burnt out trying to fit in time for them all.

I was doing too much with too little, and it started to corrode everything. This exacerbated personal struggles I already deal with regularly, which I’m sure you can imagine didn’t help things. In the end, all of it just became more weight when I saw the new deadline approach, knowing I was not going to meet it.

I’m not telling you all this to make excuses for why it’s taken so long to get the next book out. I’m telling you this because it’s important.

You are whole. You are you.

Even when you are struggling – especially when you are struggling. You don’t need to be all of these things for everyone if they are going to break you. You need to carve out the time for you to repair your soul, your confidence, and your energy. You need to understand that it is not only okay that you do that, but it is imperative that you do it.

The world is shifting, and those shifts are creating more stress and pressure than before. We are unfairly comparing ourselves to people we don’t know, in circumstances we don’t have, and beating ourselves up over unfair expectations.

Stop it.

You are you. No one else has to deal with what you do when you do. No one else is in your head. Stop comparing yourself to everyone else. They aren’t you.

Instead, look to the world for inspiration, ideas, and assistance. How is everyone else handling their struggle? Can you find a tool in there to help you with yours? Great! Use it. But don’t compare yourself to other people’s talent, or how well people handle their stress. They aren’t you, and they have their own struggles.

I’m slogging through it all myself. I have so many ideas all the time that it’s honestly a weight all itself knowing that I will never be able to write them all. Some stories will die with me. That’s a horrifying notion, but I can’t think about that. I certainly can’t let it consume me. Am I willing to sacrifice my friends and family, events and adventures, so I can try to use every waking moment to empty my head? No. I’m at least realistic enough to know that is a devil’s errand. I have to accept my limitations.

I’m not done writing. I’m getting ready to release my fourth novel – an accomplishment some never get to see. I’m getting better at it, too. I can feel it; I can see it. But writing isn’t the only thing I want to do with my time on this earth. There are a ton of things I want to do, and only one me I can do them with.

So, I’m learning to accept my limitations, and I’m going to turn that understanding into a strength. I’m going to be better for having this knowledge.

I think we all need the grace to be kinder to ourselves; living is hard enough as it is.

 

…and to All a Good Night.

I hope you give all the gifts you wanted to and receive all the gifts you deserve.

I hope you are warm, and well, and loved.

I hope you keep goodwill in your mind, and brotherly love in your heart.

And most of all, I hope you spend Christmas (or your chosen holiday) with those who make you happy and make you feel loved.

Christmas is a special time of year for me. It’s when I feel the gravity of the end of the year. It’s when the people seem to stress more and to care less, so I try to care more and stress less – and share that sentiment onward.

I thrive in the winter. I enjoy the cold, the dark, and especially the snow. It’s particularly easy for me to be cheery around Christmas, even easier when you throw all the holiday magic on top of my already delightful temperament.

But I know it’s not easy for everyone. And I know it can be a bear this time of year.

Not everyone has a family that makes them feel welcome and loved. Not everyone can handle the long, cold dark of winter. Not all appreciate the bustle of the holiday season.

To you most of all, I send my hope that you might end the year on a better note.

It’s not much, but I have a present for you. Plural, actually.

The first is a sentiment. Admittedly, it’s late in the season for it, but, as Bill Murray says, “It’s not too late.” Enjoy:

The second is amusement and cheer. A few friends and I exchange CD compilations periodically through the year. This time around, a Christmas compilation was in order. I have been enjoying it so much, that it didn’t feel right to limit the playlist to just the group. Without further ado:

https://open.spotify.com/embed/user/1272665463/playlist/6TTcwQWEUfjsVHzAKmUrvt

Lastly, I share with you the secret of Christmas cheer:

If you still can’t find your Christmas spirit, hang in there. The new year is coming. In the meantime, please reach out for help. The holidays are not a time to be alone, especially if you are suffering or depressed.

Merry Christmas, from me to you.

Christmas Wishes and Humble Thanks

When it comes right down to it, I don’t write because I want to be famous. I don’t even write because I’m good at it – that’s completely subjective, anyway. People tell me I am a good writer, I have no reason not to believe them. I’m a writer because I have stories to tell. Stories that want to be told, and they have no one else but me to tell them… those poor, unfortunate souls.

I love to write, but I wouldn’t say I’m very good at the process. I get bogged down by the difficulties inherent in world building, by characters that don’t want to adhere to their own motivations, by all of the steps required to go from that spark in my brain to a finished novel. It’s exhausting, and sometimes I think that I can’t possibly keep going.

But I keep going. And here’s the rub: I write for me, first and foremost. If I didn’t enjoy doing it, I probably wouldn’t bother. But I also keep going because of everyone else who won’t let me fail.

Obviously, there are the people who buy my books and who leave me wonderful reviews that help rejuvenate me, but it goes far beyond that. I am surrounded by talented people who are willing to invest their time and skills to help me improve mine. Wonderful friends full of heart who continue to push me forward when I don’t think I have it in me anymore. People whose lives have sometimes only briefly touched mine, but have left me so much better for having that moment between us.

I am blessed to know so many amazing people who I will never be able to thank enough. If there were time to write enough books to dedicate one to each of the people in my life, I could fill a library with my thanks. That will probably not be the case – though not for lack of trying.

I can only say thank you.

Thank you from the very bottom of my heart.
Thank you for all of the support and encouragement from my first release up to now.
Thank you for all the future support I will receive.
Thank you for being my stepping stones to whatever comes next.
Thank you for everything.

Merry Christmas to you and yours, and a Happy New Year to us all. One full of promise and potential and the best of surprises.