Word Cloud — Aven Cycle Book Two, Revised

Word Art

I turned in a new draft of Aven Cycle Book Two to my editor last week! And, as is traditional, I made a word cloud for it. The five most-often-used words in this draft (apart from articles and pronouns and such) are: Latona, Sempronius, Vibia, magic, more.

I’m glad to have this draft turned in, and I’m eager to hear what my editor thinks. The changes in this draft feel solid. The sequence of events is better paced, and the ending is a lot more emotionally-driven. It still needs some work, to be sure, but it feels like now that work can be polishing and smoothing, not full-on chiseling.

Jigsaw Puzzle Revisions

So for the past couple of months, I’ve been revising Book Two of the Aven Cycle. It’s been an interesting process, because while I’m not actually generating a ton of new content, it’s felt like that kind of heavy lifting.

Have you ever seen that thing where an artist puts together jigsaw puzzles that have the same die cut pattern, but different pictures? That’s sort of what it feels like I’ve been doing.

I needed to rearrange some major incidents in the Aven/Latona plotline. Her story’s pacing was all out of joint. Big chunks of story needed to be moved up a lot, and others needed to be sacked entirely. Sometimes, though, bits and pieces of a scene were not just still usable, but still desirable — an important emotional beat, or some necessary observation on the wider plot. Then, the trick becomes recontextualizing the old scene for the new pacing and character arc. How can I lift this conversation, or at least its main beats, and redress the setting? Do I need to adjust the dialogue for a different mood or sense of urgency? Practically, am I now referring to things that haven’t happened yet?
There’s a lot to keep track of.

I also have to do that without things falling too out-of-sync with the Iberian plotline, where Vitellius, Sempronius, and Rabirus all are. I think I’ve kept things fairly well-yoked, but as I approach the Big Moment in the Iberina plot, I’ve still got a lot of the Aven/Latona component left to get to. (I’m beginning to have a lot of sympathy for George R R Martin, trying to weave plotlines happening concurrently in so many different locations. Not coincidentally, the new project I’m percolating for consideration as this year’s NaNo will all take place inside a single city).

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The picture above is from my bullet journal, where I’ve been trying to stay on top of all of this. I listed out every scene in the earlier draft, by chapter, with the titles I used in Scrivener. Then I’ve been marking down when I migrate them wholesale (as I can do with most of the Iberian chapters), when I’ve migrated them with alterations, when I’ve struck them entirely, and where — as with so many — I’ve migrated only part of a scene, and what it’s now part of in the new draft. I’ve also made notes on some where I know I want to include a portion of a scene in the new draft, but haven’t found a place for it yet. Some of those may end up being jettisoned if there’s just not a place for them, but this way, I can tell at a glance what puzzle pieces are still hanging out on the table.

I’m wishing now I’d left a line in between each entry, though, because some scenes have been chopped up into three or four pieces, and it’s been hard to write small enough to note where all the pieces have gone!

But isn’t this a girl book?

My favorite book to recommend to readers of a certain age, or those shopping for them, is Patricia Wrede’s Dealing with Dragons. It’s a perfect rec for middle grade readers with an interest in fantasy who have already consumed the “big” titles at that level — Warriors, The Unwanteds, Land of Stories, Percy Jackson — but who might not be ready for full-on YA yet. It’s great because, despite being an award-winner with a special place in the hearts of many, it is an older book, and so it doesn’t have the marketing splash that the big series do. But I read it as a kid, and it stuck with me, so I absolutely love recommending it to others.

The protagonist, feeling constrained by the expectations their life defines for them, embarks first on a quest of self-betterment. They learn all sorts of useful skills from the palace staff, everything from fighting to cooking to Latin, because they don’t just want to sit around and be waited on all the time. But when their parents try to force them into a life they think is too small, too tedious, too ordinary, they run away and decide to become the “official captive” of a dragon. They then end up having to figure out how to defeat a wizard who’s trying to steal the dragons’ magic and poison them. And that’s just the first book — the rest of the series has more tricks and twists, surprising rescues, and dashing feats of heroism.

Did you notice that I used a gender-neutral pronoun throughout that description? That’s because the protagonist is a girl, Cimorene — and that fact alone puts parents off buying this book for their sons. Never mind the fact that this is, at heart, an adventure story. Parents frequently take one look at the cover, as I’m pressing this book I’m telling them is amazing into their hands, and dismiss it. “But isn’t this a girl book?” they ask me.

Y’all.

Your sons can read a book with a female protagonist. It won’t hurt them. I promise.

In fact, evidence suggests it’ll be really good for them. It’ll teach them to empathize with the girls and women in their lives. It’ll help them see that it’s not just boys who are the center of stories. It’ll help normalize female protagonists for them, so that female-led stories can stop being rarities for us to cling to and can instead be just stories, like male-led stories have always been.

So please, stop asking me, “But isn’t this a girl book?”, because I die a little inside every time you do.

The Battle of Winterfell Predictions

I was going to do this on Twitter, but then I realized it would be too long and annoying to thread. This will obviously have spoilers for the whole series up to this point, including the first two episodes of Season 8. Read at your own risk.

So, here are my “who lives, who dies” predictions for Episode 3/The Battle of Winterfell (recognizing that it’s not impossible that the Battle will span more than one episode). Dead on the left, living on the right, and I’m stuck in the middle with you.

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My guesses are grounded in my theory that the very last episode of the series will be winnowed down to essentially the same cast as the very first, excepting those who were dead before Season 8 started. If I weren’t committing myself to that, I think I’d have Theon and Bran on the other side of the chart. Theon definitely feels like noble sacrifice wight-fodder at this point, and it seems impossible that Bran’s “lure the Night King to the godswood” strategy is going to work, with three episodes left after this one, so they’d be easy to mark for death. I’m guessing, though, they have some plot armor to get them through to the endgame.

I also, broadly, think that those in possession of Valyrian steel will make it through Winterfell — which means Sam gave up his hall pass to Jorah. They just made such a big deal of the passing of that sword, it feels significant. I can easily see Jorah dying to protect Daenerys ultimately, but I don’t think it happens yet.

The exception to my Valyrian steel theory, however, is Brienne. I think she’s tragic toast. She was given too big a hero moment in episode 2, with the knighting. She got what she’s wanted her whole life. She’s been validated and supported by men she thinks well of. She’s been acknowledged. She’s happy. And so it feels like she’s reached the pinnacle of what the series would allow her and is going to go out in an epic act of heroism. Podrick probably goes down with her. (If this were a different kind of series, she’d be pulled back from that brink by someone, probably Jaime, reminding her that the problem with a death worthy of song is that you’re not around to enjoy the singing… But that’s not the sort of world this series lives in.)

Grey Worm made the mistake of making life plans for after the battle, which is hard to see as anything but a jinx.

Beric Dondarrion has been fighting for the Lord of Life for all of his improbably-prolonged life; it makes sense that he’d go down defending the living now. I’m thinking maybe he makes it through a lot of the battle and then does something heroic to help cover the retreat of the survivors.

Tormund has been excellent comic relief, but he’s really not necessary to anything going forward, and being a fan-favorite makes him an easy gut-stab for the audience.

The Hound, also, has been superfluous for a while now. Although… wait. He was in the first episode, wasn’t he? Damn. I might have to move him to the other column so as to be consistent with myself. Plus, it would give him the opportunity to finally engage with The Mountain, which the show has telegraphed a lot across the seasons. Okay, consider The Hound moved to the Dohaeris column. I had just genuinely forgotten he was in the first episode.

Royce is on the death list mostly because I only just remembered he’s still around? Representing the Vale, I guess? But he’d be an easy commander-figure to take out without actually offing any of the main characters. Same for Edd, really, which is a shame, because I enjoy Edd. But I think the 999th Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch is destined for death, so that, however the endgame turns out, the next phase of Westeros opens appropriately symbolically with the 1000th. (Though it’s an interesting thought… if they really defeat the Night King, will a Watch and a rebuilt Wall be needed?)

Clearly something terrible is going to go down in the crypts, which is what will do for Gilly and Sam, I think. I’m not sure if I’m convinced of the theory that seems to have simultaneously occurred to the entire fandom just as Episode 2 ended, that the Night King will power-up all the dead Starks. (Though the Episode 3 preview might well be canting in that direction with Daenerys saying, “The dead are already here.”) My hesitation is because I can’t recall quite how firmly the world has established its own rules on how wights are created. I can’t remember if they need direct contact from a Walker or not. I feel like they do? Yes, early on, wights re-animate inside Castle Black, but it’s pretty clear they’d been turned before they were taken back there and had just been in stasis or something. So, if the corpses in the crypts are in a position to be re-animated, it seems like the people down there already have plenty to worry about. And that may well occur — or maybe the Night King’s magic will reach them without direct contact. One way or another, the frosting of the crypts in the teaser trailers and the focus they’re given in the opening credits both seem to signal something major happening there, and I don’t think it’s just that people keep deciding to have poorly-timed conversations in front of Lyanna’s tomb.

Speaking of Lyanna — the other Lyanna, that is — she’s another fan favorite, it would hurt to see her go, but she’s not critical to the plot. Yes, we might all want to see her set up as Queen of the North when the dust settles, but do we really think the series is going to give us that? No. They want to hurt us. I mean, imagine that little bundle of ferocity suddenly going blue-eyed. (Especially if she doesn’t die first and goes Walker, not wight? She’d be a hell of a lieutenant for the Night King to have on hand).

Gendry is a gamble on my part. He’s one I’d put on the bubble of survival. But I suspect he does something dumb and heroic on Arya’s behalf. (As Dany told us last season and as Sansa reminded us last episode, heroes are really fond of doing dumb things that get them killed for the sake of love). It’s possible that happens a little later on, though.

Varys I’d also put on the bubble. I’ve got him in the death column largely because he’s been so ignored this season so far. They don’t seem to be investing in his future as a character. I could also see, however, Melisandre miraculously turning up to help him out of a tight spot in a “It’s not quite our time yet” sort of way.

Davos lives to keep being our Everyman, at least a little while longer. Missandei lives to make it hurt more that Grey Worm dies.

And then, I think, Daenerys has to have her dragons set fire to Winterfell to cover the retreat and to save the fallen from becoming wights.

I would love to be wrong about any and all of these. I would love this to be a different kind of series, less nihilistic, where it felt like more people would get to enjoy the future they fight for. But, well, that’s what fanfic’s for.

On Reading Tolkien

So I said I wanted to blog more, and Twitter has, this week, given me an opportunity.

If you’re a part of writing Twitter, and specifically of fantasy writing Twitter, you’ve likely seen the Tolkien-centric turmoil. It started when Chuck Wendig Said A Thing. In response to a prompt about unpopular epic fantasy opinions, Wendig said that Tolkien is not the end-all and the be-all of epic fantasy fiction. He then said some other things, which some readers took to be criticisms of Tolkien in particular when they were not, necessarily, and the whole thing spiraled from there. Some of those spirals were actually fairly erudite discussions of literary canon, who gets included in it, who decides what gets included in it, how we can disrupt the norms of who gets included in it, and so forth. Some of those spirals were… less erudite, as we might expect. And in the way of Twitter battles, it’s all wandered a great deal off-course from the initial discussion.

I’ve resisted commentary on Twitter because, honestly, I didn’t have enough of a dog in the fight. But then I started seeing one line of comment that I sort of bumped on, and I decided to blog rather than tweet about it because Twitter is not a great platform for nuanced discussion. The tenor of this line of commentary was, “I don’t owe Tolkien anything”. And that… Enh. Whether or not you like Tolkien, whether or not you’ve even read Tolkien, if you’re reading and writing fantasy in the English language, you owe something to Tolkien, at least indirectly.

The analogy that sprang to my mind was that Chaucer. Tolkien : fantasy fiction :: Chaucer : English language and literature.

Whether or not you’ve ever read The Canterbury Tales, if you’re speaking and reading in English today, you owe something to them. They had lasting influence and the helped in shaping the English language as we know it today. Part of that was sheer dumb luck, writing in the right place at the right time. Around 1400, English was still really fractured. For example, The Canterbury Tales and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight were both written in Middle English. The Canterbury Tales is hard, but not impossible, to read without a translation.

A knight ther was, and that a worthy man,
That fro the tyme that he first bigan
To ryden out, he loved chivalrye,
Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisye.
Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre,
And thereto hadde he riden (no man ferre)
As wel in cristendom as hethenesse,
And evere honoured for his worthinesse.

That’s recognizable as English, even if it’s quite clearly not the English we speak today. It’s not even the English of Shakespeare, two centuries later. But it’s English.

Now check out a sample of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, written at the same time, but in Northern England:

After Crystenmasse com þe crabbed lentoun,
Þat fraystez flesch wyth þe fysche and fode more symple;
Bot þenne þe weder of þe worlde wyth wynter hit þrepez,
Colde clengez adoun, cloudez vplyften,
Schyre schedez þe rayn in schowrez ful warme,
Fallez vpon fayre flat, flowrez þere schewen,
Boþe groundez and þe greuez grene ar her wedez,
Bryddez busken to bylde, and bremlych syngen
For solace of þe softe somer þat sues þerafter bi bonk;
And blossumez bolne to blowe
Bi rawez rych and ronk,
Þen notez noble innoȝe
Ar herde in wod so wlonk.
After þe sesoun of somer wyth þe soft wyndez

That is… not the same language. We call them both Middle English, but you can tell at a glance that they are not the same. The northern dialect in the 14th century was still much closer to Old English and its Nordic influences.

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Because The Canterbury Tales was written in London-English, it was written in the English which eventually “won”. London-English came to dominate because, a few decades later, London was where the printing presses were — and printing presses helped to begin the process of standardization of the language into what we know today. So Chaucer benefited from that — and he influenced it, since his work was proliferated in that dialect and influenced future works. He was also part of a trend towards vernacularization in English literature. He may not have been the first writer in Middle English to write in that fashion, but he was the most popular. And so, he became a tentpole of English literature.

Now, do you need to have read The Canterbury Tales in order to speak English or to tell stories in it? Of course not. But if you want to study how English language and literature came to be as they are today, it would be difficult to avoid engaging with the work. If that’s your goal, should you only study Chaucer? Of course not! Chaucer isn’t the end-all and the be-all of late medieval literature, let alone the whole of English literature. Even just looking at his era, many scholars credit the Chancery Courts with having a greater influence on the standardization of language that moved England towards its Early Modern form. Chaucer is not the sole definition of English language or literature, but a number of factors combined to make him an outsized influence on both.

And I feel similarly about Tolkien in the context of the fantasy genre. You don’t need to have read Tolkien to be a fan of fantasy fiction, to enjoy it, even to write it. But if you want to understand how the genre developed and came to be as it is today, it would be foolish to ignore him. And it would be equally foolish to study only Tolkien and to assume that he alone defines the genre.

There’s a lot to criticize in Tolkien, particularly where issues of race and gender are concerned. There’s also a lot to enjoy, if you’re the right sort of reader in the right frame of mind. I feel very fondly towards the books now, but I didn’t always, and I still can’t just pick them up to re-read in any sort of mood. I couldn’t get through them at all until after I’d seen the movies, a sin for which I’m sure many gatekeepers would be delighted to flagellate me. I’m someone who loves to luxuriate in detailed world-building, so my problem isn’t the pace or the digressions, but rather that I find the writing itself sometimes dense and stilted. And the lack of women is and always has been a big problem for me. But there’s still a lot in Tolkien that I appreciate. After the 2016 election, for example, I had basically lost all faith in humanity, and I couldn’t get through reading anything. Until I decided to pick The Fellowship of the Ring back up. In that moment, that was what I wanted: simple morality where good eventually triumphs, and I was happy to lose myself in the Middle Earth when the myriad complexities of the world I lived in felt overwhelmingly cruel. But I’m far more likely to revisit the stories by way of the movies than the books, because I find them more accessible and emotionally moving.

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I’m firmly of the opinion that Tolkien could never get published today. He’d be told his pacing is uneven, his story starts far too slowly, he spends too much time on world-building, he introduces too many characters in the first chapter and we never hear from many of them ever again. He couldn’t get published today. But if he hadn’t been published in the mid-20th century, a lot of other books never would have been, either — for better or for worse. I don’t know what the fantasy genre would look like if there had never been Tolkien. We’d likely still be facing the same issues of race and gender, because, considering the era, whoever stepped into the void he left would likely also be a white male. It might have taken the genre more time to achieve the popularity it currently enjoys and the faint measure of respect it’s still striving for in many literary circles. It might not have. Swords and sorcery might still have been the dominant form for decades, or maybe it would’ve been something else. I don’t know. No one can know. Because Tolkien was, and he shaped the genre.

We don’t owe him all, any more than modern English owes all it is to Chaucer. And maybe what we owe him is equal parts honor and a kick in the pants, for both the good and the ill in his work. But suggesting we owe him nothing strikes me as either incredibly naive or willfully childish. Even if you’ve never read him, doubtless some of the authors you do read were influenced by him. They may have been influenced in the negative, driven specifically to do something different, not to replicate his form and format, but that’s still an influence. And there’s no extricating Tolkien’s popularity from the development of the publishing industry’s fantasy wing. The publishing world we work in, whether or not we’ve read Tolkien ourselves, was partially shaped by Tolkien and his legacy.

Should you read Tolkien? I don’t know. What do you hope to get out of it? If you’re looking for a good tale, it may or may not suit your fancy. If you’re looking for detailed and well-researched world-building, you’ll get a lot of that (if in a narrow northern-and-western-European scope — Tolkien was a truly remarkable scholar of what he studied, but it certainly had its limits). If you’re looking to learn the history of the genre and how it developed, then yeah, you probably ought to have at least some familiarity with such a major tentpole. But you don’t have to know that history or have a desire to learn it just because you want to read or write in the genre. It’s a subset of what there is to enjoy, a dish on the menu. It doesn’t make a meal, and it’s not the only thing the restaurant serves.

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And that winds me around to the idea of literary canon and what one “must” read.

“Must” is a silly word. The books you “must” read to be a fan of a genre, or to create within it, are the books which speak to your soul, the ones that resonate with you.

Enjoying a thing need not be the same as studying it, and studying the thing itself is not the same as studying its history. I’m a historian, so I know that influences my viewpoint. It’s why the Chaucer analogy leapt to my brain. It’s not the place everyone stands, nor the place everyone should. It does, though, lead me to the following consideration:

If we’re looking at fantasy from a scholarly viewpoint, perhaps we ought to consider that the genre is large enough and has been around long enough to need more than one intro course, as it were. A survey of fantasy literature and a history of fantasy in the English language would have different syllabi, and maybe you’d only find Tolkien in the latter. And that’s fine. It’s not like he’s suffering for exposure. Nor are many of the other authors you’d likely find in such a course — Lewis, Le Guin, Brooks, Jordan, Pratchett, Gaiman, Martin — though some of the longer-ago forbears, like William Morris and Lord Dunsany, would be little-remembered outside of it. The purpose of such a course would not be to say that every work studied in it deserved to be a tentpole of the genre, but rather to acknowledge that they have become sofor a variety of reasons, and to examine the effect that each had on shaping the genre as we now know it. Whether or not you think Tolkien merits his outsized importance, he has long had it, and a scholarly course on the history of fantasy literature would have to address that — in part to understand why and how the “established canon” has so long excluded certain voices, and what needs to be done to remedy that in the future. Understanding how the past failed the present can help the present choose how to shape the future.

But a survey course in fantasy literature? Now, that ought to be different, more diverse, less focused on the history of the genre and more concerned with giving students a taste of everything the genre is and can be. It should look at alternate influences, and it should look at subgenres, and it should look at those works which have grand merits on their own yet did not spawn a legacy of imitations in the way that the tentpoles did. If I were to devise such a survey course, I’m sure my syllabus would look a little different from that of anyone else who might do so — and if I were teaching a real course, with real students, I’d be adjusting it a bit every semester, to take new works into account, and to try and provide representation for the cultural makeup of the class.

And all of that would be different from the books that were my “musts” — the books I have read which brought me to the place I am now. My tentpoles of the genre, which have shaped my reading and writing. Like a history course, it might have gaps and omissions — things I ought to have read, things I wish I’d read earlier than I had, things that slipped by me. It might have things I read and which shaped me which didn’t deserve that influence, or which were important at the time but which I wouldn’t recommend to anyone else now. That list is going to be different for everyone. Certainly there are things I’ve read that I didn’t enjoy, that were high-quality but didn’t resonate with me, that have had a huge influence on others. But the wonderful thing is, it need never be a finished list. As readers, we can always keep doing better, reading more broadly, exposing ourselves to new influences.

So when it comes to the idea of Tolkien and fantasy canon and all of that, what I really come down to, I guess, is this: Build your own canon. Figure out why you like the things you do — what calls to you, what resonates? Map your own personal history within and without the genre, and know how it has affected you. That’s what matters most.

A Much-Delayed Update

I have been woefully neglectful of this blog over the past six months! Apologies. Call it a hibernation.

What have I been up to? Well, I finished a draft of Book Two of the Aven Cycle and sent it off for editorial input. Eventually there will be revisions — many, many revisions — but in the meantime, I’m working on other projects! I’ve revived my own interest in The Seventh Star, a secondworld fantasy I began work on back when From Unseen Fire was out on sub, and I’m hoping to make good progress there. I’ve also still got the Julie d’Aubigny-inspired space opera rattling around in my head, in search of a coherent plot, and I’ve had some ideas for a couple of projects that I’m not ready to let out into the world yet, even as nuggets. I feel like sometimes, talking about a new idea can bleed the energy right out of it, y’know? So there are two ideas that I’m keeping to myself for a while — one sci-fi, one fantasy — which may see some more devoted attention in the coming months.

PaperbackGiveaway.pngI’m also getting ready for the release of From Unseen Fire in paperback! I’m so excited about this, y’all. Hardcovers are shiny and impressive, but mass market paperbacks have always been my dear friends. You can see a video of me unboxing my author copies and talking a little bit about why I think mass markets are so great, especially for genre books, over on Facebook.

I’m also currently running two giveaways of those lovely little paperbacks! You can enter on Twitter and/or on Instagram. Already have a copy of From Unseen Fire? Enter anyway! Then you’ll have an extra copy you can give to a friend who hasn’t read it yet. 😉

You can also pre-order the paperback now from your favorite online retailer — Or, even better, heads into a bricks-and-mortar indie store to ask them to stock it for you!

I’m also looking forward to attending RavenCon in Williamsburg, VA from April 5th-7th. They’re still accepting registrations, so if you’re in the area, come see me! Here’s my schedule for the weekend, which you can also find on the Upcoming Events page:

  • Friday: 6 pm (Panel) Can’t You Just Google It? Research Techniques for Writers / Room L
  • Friday: 10 pm (Panel) Alt-History with a Fantastical Flair / Room 8
  • Saturday: 10 am (Panel) Clothes Make the Character / Room F
  • Saturday: 11:25 am – 11:50 am (Reading) Room 4
  • Saturday: 6 pm (Panel) Writing Ancient Cultures / Room F
  • Saturday: 7 pm (Panel) Female Friendship in SFF / Room 8
  • Sunday: 11 am (Panel) National Novel Writing Month / Room 8
  • Sunday: Noon (Panel) Spirituality and Religion in SFF / Room L

In other news: I’ve upgraded to a Business level site here, which means I have greater room to play around with the site’s appearance. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be updating the layout to something a little spiffier.

I’ll also be experimenting with hosting some Patreon material here rather than on the Patreon website. The WordPress platform offers a lot more flexibility in display and formatting, which would be useful. I’m still learning how the plugin works, though, so bear with me if there are any errant posts or mishaps in the meantime!

Okay, I think that’s about it for relevant updates. I promise to be a more dedicated blogger as we move into the sunny seasons.

Happy spring!


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Cass’s Birthday Review Bonanza

We didn’t quite hit 50 reviews on From Unseen Fire, but we’re closer than we were a month ago! I’ll call that a win, so —

As promised! 30 reviews of books I’ve enjoyed, all of which I posted to Amazon over the past 30 days! There’s a broad range here — YA and adult and even middle grade, science and history, fantasy and sci-fi and romance and more. Do yourself a favor and check some of these out!

  1. Roar, by Cora Carmack: I really, really enjoyed this. The magic is innovative and intriguing, and while the characters take the shapes of some familiar tropes, they’re tropes I thoroughly enjoy, and each has some unexpected qualities to keep things interesting. Roar in particular is someone whose feels I feel. Her emotional journey is very real, and I can’t wait to see where it goes. A gripping good read.
  2. Hunter, by Mercedes Lackey: This was a fun start to a new series! I love the way that Lackey explores magic in so many different ways, and here, she envisions a post-apocalyptic world where magic has re-emerged — and with it, all the mythic monsters from legends across the globe. I enjoyed the idea of Hunters-as-celebrities, and that’s where the book feels most like the Hunger Games, in its examination of entertainment having become the new opiate of the masses. I actually would’ve loved to have seen that aspect of the book pushed further. The heroine reminds me of the star of one of Lackey’s earlier series, Diana Tregarde, which I loved. She’s motivated by a keen sense of responsibility and the desire to protect the defenseless. I listened to this one on audio and am looking forward to enjoying the rest of the series.
  3. Never Deceive a Viscount, by Renee Ann Miller: A delightfully fun romance novel! The dialogue sparkles, and it’s wonderful to follow these characters on their journey towards happiness. I particularly love that Miller is willing to explore heroines outside of the stereotypical debutante mold — reminiscent of Madeline Hunter and Lisa Kleypas.
  4. Tyrant, by Stephen Greenblatt: Greenblatt delivers a searing indictment of the Trump regime and all those who enabled its rise — without once directly making mention of modern politics. The commentary is certainly there, though, for those with eyes to see. Greenblatt provides a walk through Shakespeare’s examinations of demagogues, civil unrest, factionalism, and patriotic duty in terms accessible for a popular audience. We can only hope that Shakespeare’s assessment that tyrants only ever enjoy short reigns will prove true in the modern age.
  5. The Poppy War, by R. F. Kuang: Enthralling but brutal. This book started off reminding me of The Name of the Wind, by Patrick Rothfuss, but about two-thirds of the way through, it takes a sharp left turn into… something else. Kuang’s historical inspiration shows, and her exploration of the dark themes of war is unflinching. This is a tough read, but well worth it.
  6. The Belles, by Dhonielle Clayton: Pretty in pink with a lot of potential. The Belles explores weaponized femininity in action, but also embraces a lot of feminine tropes and values that get shunted to the side in many other works of fantasy (and, let’s be real, all of media). It was refreshing to read a heroine whose power is rooted in what lots of other books dismiss in order to have heroines who “aren’t like other girls”. And this book is gorgeously rendered with full Rococo splendor. The world-building brings up a lot of interesting and innovative uses of magic, as well as exploring the political and cultural implications of a world that has allowed itself to become so terribly reliant on the magic of a very few individuals. There’s a lot of room for these ideas to grow, and I’m excited to see what happens in Book Two.
  7. The Rogue Not Taken, by Sarah MacLean: I really enjoyed this one, even if it does fall into a few of the “why are you doing that, what on earth are you thinking?”/”I am feeling a thing/taking an action solely to provide plot conflict” holes that romance novels, much as I adore them, are often prone to. MacLean’s characters are always sparkling with just enough shades of darkness to be interesting, and this book is at its best when it’s a road trip romp.
  8. The Rise and Fall of the Dinosaurs, by Steve Brusatte: This was a delightful return to paleontology for someone who was once a dinosaur-obsessed kid. Brusatte’s prose is engaging and vivid, but not pop-science. He delves deep into the evolutionary transformations that created the dinosaurs, developed them, and then killed off the ones who didn’t turn into what we now know as birds. (And yes, he does come down very firmly on that point — not that birds evolved from dinosaurs, but that birds are literally dinosaurs, if a specific and somewhat odd subset of them, the way that marsupials are a specific and somewhat odd subset of mammals). I do feel like the book would have benefited from more illustrations, though, especially when he’s discussing the relative sizes of dinosaurs and their genetic brethren, or other physiological developments. Brusatte’s writing is at its best and most evocative when it it as its most imaginative: describing the fight between a T-rex and and a trike, painting the picture of the Mesozoic landscape, or chillingly rendering the catastrophic impact of an asteroid hitting what would become the Yucatan peninsula. (Seriously, that last bit put a hitch in my throat, as though it hadn’t happened 65 million years ago). Overall, this book reminded me of what joy there is in studying and imagining these creatures who once owned our world.
  9. Circe, by Madeline Miller: This wildly successful book does not need my review to help it, but I have a specific purpose: I particularly want to recommend this book to anyone who’s felt bereft of Mists of Avalon since learning about Marion Zimmer Bradley’s various crimes. CIRCE isn’t as complex as MoA, with only one point of view, and it isn’t as long, but it has the same lush immersion in a mythic world. The language is gorgeous and inundating. And Circe herself is a magnificent character, so very real and understandable. Her loneliness is palpable. I ached with her through so much of this story. But her strength is formidable as well, and her vengeance glorious. So I recommend this book, too, to anyone who’s ever called herself a witch. Circe’s magic as a path to agency resonated with me so strongly, like a piece of myself I’d forgotten was there.
    I listened to this on audio, and it was magnificent. It felt, in some ways, like the right way to hear the story, as though I were at Circe’s knee, curled up on her hearth and lounging against the flank of one of her tame lionesses.
  10. License to Quill, by Jacopo della Quercia: This book was utterly bonkers, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. It’s Shakespeare given the 007 treatment, with all the conspiratorial madness you might imagine that entailing. della Quercia bases his story around Macbeth and the Gunpowder plot, and he tosses in actual witches, a not-really-dead Marlowe, Walsingham and son as spymasters, Francis Bacon in the role of Q, and a horse named Aston. Also Medicis, because why not? What’s fun is that della Quercia clearly knows his Elizabethan/Stuart history and his Shakespeare very well — and then throws them out the window when it suits him. I think Billy Shakes would approve.
  11. City of Lies, by Sam Hawke: Thoroughly thrilling! Part espionage intrigue, part class warfare, part murder mystery, CITY OF LIES is a captivating and occasionally heart-wrenching tale. The world is full and detailed: Silasta feels like a real city, with shades of Rome, London, or Tenochtitlan, yet entirely itself. Jovan and Kalina are compelling protagonists, each with glorious strengths and touching vulnerabilities. I greatly enjoyed this and look forward to continuing the series!
  12. Gilded Cage, by Vic James: Class warfare takes on new meaning when one class can use magic and the other can’t. This book is a little like if the Death Eaters had won in Harry Potter and had used their powers to take over all of Muggle Britain… but if they’d done that a few hundred years ago, and so now everyone just perceived their dominance as “normal”. James has written a dark and captivating tale with strong characters and a fascinating central struggle. I’m looking forward to seeing how the chess pieces play out.
  13. Heroine Complex, by Sarah Kuhn: Imaginative and exciting! If you love the pop culture references and quippy snark of the MCU, you’re going to love the tone of Heroine Complex. This book has fantastic wit, and it’s wit particularly tuned for the Millennial ear. There’s a lot of good heart in here, too, with an emotional journey that feels very real. I recommend this whole series for the full effect.
  14. The Waking Land, by Callie Bates: The Waking Land immerses the reader in a lush and intricate fantasy world. Elanna is a heroine to really — dare I say it? — root for! Both the world-building and Elanna’s emotional journey are gorgeously crafted, and Bates has magnificent dexterity with words. The stakes are high and compelling, and you’ll find yourself desperately invested in both Elanna and her nation.
  15. Catullus’s Bedspread: The Life of Rome’s Most Erotic Poet, by Daisy Dunn: Catullus is my favorite ancient poet, and this is an ambitious exploration of his life — about which we, really, know quite little. I’m always a bit skeptical of attempting to reconstruct a poet’s life from their work, because it requires an assumption of autobiographical writing that is not necessarily accurate, but nothing here seemed wildly off-course. It gives a good view not only of Catullus and his poetry, but of the world he lived in — the decade or so before Julius Caesar’s most famous years. Dunn’s translations are also lively and engaging, and I’d be interested to read more of them.
  16. The Lost Queen, by Signe Pike: I’ve seen this book described as a mix between Mists of Avalon and Philippa Gregory, and to be honest, I would say it’s much more “Philippa Gregory but for someone even most history nerds have never heard of”. It lacks the epic scope and moral complexity of MoA. That’s not a bad thing in of itself! But I don’t think the MoA comparisons do the book any favors. This book has strong characters and a very clear, straightforward story. Pike renders her world in magnificent detail, and Langoureth’s story is engaging. I look forward to the next installment.
  17. Cinder, by Marissa Meyer: There are a lot of fairy tale retellings out there, but the Lunar Chronicles series has, for my money, the most inventive and compelling reworking of familiar themes. I love the whole series, and really, Cress is my favorite, but since I’m recommending these books for blog followers, you really do have to start at the beginning with Cinder. In Meyer’s version, Cinderella is a cyborg. And a mechanic. Her glass slipper is a cybernetic foot. Her best friend and faithful helper is an android. Her prince is the Emperor of the Eastern Commonwealth, a pan-Asian conglomerate that forms part of the Eastern Union. And while evading her stepmother is part of her story, a lot more of it has to do with a plague ravaging the Commonwealth and with the sinister Lunar Queen. Meyer has done incredible work creating a believable sci-fi world for her fairy tale heroines to inhabit, and Cinder is a magnificent heroine.
  18. Dealing with Dragons, by Patricia Wrede: This is my number one middle grade fantasy recommendation. You want a heroine with agency? One who stands up for herself and refuses to let others direct the course of her life? Meet Cimorene. Great for kids who’ve run through things like Percy Jackson, Land of Stories, Warriors, etc.
  19. It’s Your Universe, by Ashley Eckstein: I wish I’d had this book as a baby geeklet. That would have been impossible, though, since Ashley Eckstein & I are close in age, so I’ll settle for doing what I can to put it in the hands of every bb geek I can manage. Eckstein’s story is inspirational, but it’s really her can-do attitude that shines through in this book. Like any true Disney princess, she imbues others with the power to believe in themselves and their dreams.
  20. Labyrinth Lost, by Zoraida Córdova: An enchanting, amazing adventure. Labyrinth Lost gives readers of the modern age a true hero’s journey — with a Latina heroine who just happens to be a bruja. Córdova has created an elaborate world to enchant any reader, and Alex is a complex and wonderful heroine. I love that she’s allowed to make mistakes and not always have a perfect attitude. Her emotions are raw and real. I so enjoyed walking beside her on her katabasis.
  21. Women & Power: A Manifesto, by Mary Beard: An excellent treatise. Beard has a powerful way with words, and this manifesto, drawn from two of her lectures (which I would kill to attend), should be stapled to the head of anyone who’s ever mansplained. Beard ties the modern attempts to silence women who speak out to millennia of misogyny. I’d love to see her tackle this subject more long-form someday.
  22. The One Hundred Nights of Hero, by Isabel Greenberg: A beautiful tapestry of a story and a magnificent graphic novel. This put me in mind of Cat Valente’s Orphan’s Tales, an intricately woven story with women’s strength and voices at its core. As someone who glories in the written word and the power of storytelling, this book sank hooks into my heart in so many ways.
  23. The Storm before the Storm, by Mike Duncan: I listened to The History of Rome podcast for years and loved it. What Duncan has done here is answer a question he gets asked all the time: Is America collapsing like the Roman Empire? And his answer is, if we’re at any parallel to Rome’s history, we’re in the decades before the collapse of the Republic. As it happens, they’re some of my favorite decades in Roman history. Duncan has, as anyone who’s listened to his podcast knows, a deft hand at explaining complex situations. I enjoyed getting to experience him in a less episodic form, where he had a bit more freedom to build upon themes and investigate a central thesis. I highly recommend this not only to history fans, but to folk looking for a bit of perspective on our current political morass.
  24. The Six-Gun Tarot, by R. S. Belcher: This book is so strange in such an amazingly good way. It’s Weird West, with all that entails — eldritch creatures, steampunk curiosities, and a cast of rough-around-the-edges misfits with secrets to hide. I wasn’t sure about this book when I first picked it up, but I ended up thoroughly enjoying it. The story and characters alike drew me in and took me on an entertaining journey.
  25. The Glass Town Game, by Catherynne Valente: Somewhere between Wonderland, Narnia, and Fairyland, you’ll find Glass Town. This book has a lot of the whimsical feel of Valente’s Fairyland novels, with an added literary edge. Highly recommend this flight of fancy!
  26. You’re Never Weird on the Internet, by Felicia Day: I utterly adored this memoir, not least because it made me feel as though Felicia Day and I have a lot in common and could be friends. So many of her experiences as a young geek, a growing geek, and an adult geek resonated with me, as did her struggle with anxiety and depression. Day is candid and raw, but the entire memoir is suffused with wit and optimism nonetheless. (This is another one I did on audio, as Day reads it herself, and I feel like that added an awesome extra quality. It’s one I can happily return to when I feel like I need a boost).
  27. Rules to Catch a Devilish Duke, by Suzanne Enoch: This has been one of my favorite romance novels of the past several years, and it’s one I happily re-read, especially to warm me up during the winter. Sophia is exactly the sort of heroine I have been yearning for: cheerfully independent, even in the face of difficulties; not a virgin and not ashamed about it; knows what she wants sexually and isn’t afraid of her passions; good-natured and forgiving but not a pushover; decisive and undeterred from pursuing what she wants out of life. The most excellent thing about this book is that the hero and heroine are so beautifully well-suited for each other. Their interactions while they’re alone at his estate are just gorgeous — warm and funny, passionate and teasing, thoughtful and challenging — everything that a marriage should be. Their romance is magnificent.
  28. Longbourn, by Jo Baker: I really enjoyed this, not least because if you’ve ever worked in the service industry, parts of Sarah’s experience will resonate, despite 200 years worth of removal from her era. Longbourn retains clear affection for its source material even as it pulls at the threads that hold Austen’s society together. The view from belowstairs is well worth examining, and Baker gives it a compelling treatment.
  29. Secondborn, by Amy A. Bartol: An exciting and engaging story. With some Hunger Games-esque notes, Bartol has created a fascinating world and populated it with interesting, multi-faceted characters, including an active and tenacious heroine. The action whips along, making for a compelling read.
  30. Nabokov’s Favorite Word is Mauve, by Ben Blatt: As bad as I am at math, I really enjoy statistical analysis. Pair that with wordsmithing, and you get a book designed to appeal to the nerdiest parts of my personality. Blatt dives deep into how authors use words — how they favor some over others, how their use changes over time, how well they adhere or don’t to well-known maxims of writing (even when they’re the one who laid those maxims out). I appreciated that he didn’t only look at ~literary classics~, but included a number of genre books in his analysis as well. This book was geeky good fun!

Cass’s Birthday Review Campaign

We are just past 4 months since From Unseen Fire hit the shelves! We are also one month out from my 33rd birthday. So this seems like an awesome excuse to say…

I would like to have 50 Amazon reviews of From Unseen Fire by my birthday!

BirthdayReviewCampaign

Totally doable, I think! I’m standing at 32 right now, and I am sure there are eighteen folk out there who’ve read the book but not yet dropped a review at Amazon.

Why do I want this? Amazon’s promotional algorithms kick in when a book hits 50 reviews, meaning that From Unseen Fire will start appearing in those “you may also enjoy” boxes when folk are looking at books by other fantasy authors. Judging by what’s currently on From Unseen Fire‘s page, that might mean Naomi Novik, Katherine Arden, R. F. Kuang, Holly Black, Rebecca Roanhorse, maybe even Jacqueline Carey or George R R Martin! It’ll also start appearing in those genre-focused targeted emails that Amazon customers get. It has the potential to really boost an author’s sales — Plus, it would just give me the warm fuzzies to know that I’d finally joined the 50-review club.

So, if you’ve read From Unseen Fire and haven’t yet left an Amazon review, please do so before September 20th! It would help make my birthday super-awesome. You do not have to have bought the book on Amazon in order to review it there, either — though you do have to have an “active account”, which means having spent money with them in the past year. I know plenty of folk have ethical problems with Amazon, and to be honest, I’m with you — but they are the devil authors must deal with in the modern publishing world. But by all means, purchase from your favorite local indie store before dropping that review on the Big A.

If you’ve already left a review — thanks! Now go encourage someone else to read it and leave a review. 😉 Or, go find something else you’ve read recently and leave it a review. Let’s spread the review love!

And that’s what I’ll be doing for the next month. For each of the next 30 days, I’m going to find a book I’ve read that I haven’t left an Amazon review for and remedy my laxity. At the end of the month, I’ll post a list of all 30 of those books for your perusal and TBR-padding enjoyment!

Go forth and review!

False Starts

The theme this week over on the Deb Ball is “the manuscript in the drawer”, and I thought I’d expand a little bit upon what I wrote over there. I chatted about this on Twitter a while back, too. I have been, across my life, a prolific writer. Since the age of 11, when I decided I wanted to be a writer, I’ve started scores of projects. Honestly, it’s possibly hundreds — but that just sounds ludicrous, and lots of them were, like, single-page vague concepts anyway, so I usually just say scores.

The point is that From Unseen Fire is my first book on the shelves, but it’s so far from my first book that I hardly know where to begin. Here’s just a sampling of some of the things I’ve worked on in the past twenty-one years: 

  • Age 13, a cyberpunk novel written at the behest of my 8th grade English teacher. We were supposed to write 50 pages of something over the course of the whole year. I turned in a 300-page novel. I’m pretty sure my teacher was both proud of my dedication and a bit dismayed at having to grade that mess. As I recall, the plot consisted of lots of spying and subterfuge to save a futuristic empire from a maniac warlord, or something. My parents read it and were alarmed that I knew what a concubine was.
  • Phantom of the Opera from the POV of the corps de ballet, cowritten with a friend. It was filled with every cliche trope you could possibly imagine — torrid love affairs, heroines struck down with blindness and/or tuberculosis, the Opera House catching fire, main characters madly in love with our not-at-all-self-insert OCs… the whole shebang. We role-played a lot of it out, too.
  • Something I started around age 14 that would have been sort of like Kate Elliott’s Court of Fives — fantasy focused around a competition w/ rebellion knitted in. Hero’s journey with female lead, too. This is one I had completely forgotten about until I tripped over it while combing through old files. I feel like a lot of “I’ve started to read fantasy books yet am not finding myself in any of them because it’s all boys doing boy things, well, to heck with that” attitude fueled this one.
  • “Wings of Glory”, which was something with…bird people? I don’t even know. I wrote a few highly dramatic interpersonal scenes but had no greater plot.
  • “Fire”, a secondworld fantasy that actually held the seeds of what would become the magic system of the Aven Cycle. There was a princess who did a lot of questing. This one I actually finished, about age 16, I think?
  • Young CassSo. Much. Fanfic. Starting with a Star Wars series called “Days of the Alliance”, written and rewritten many times from ages 12-mid 20s, most recently with the characters as morally-grey Rebel SpecOps. My middle and high school friends got this distributed to them via inbox. I had learned a painful lesson about sharing anything to the Star Wars section of fanfiction.net, particularly if you had the nerve to be a girl writing these things, so I kept most of this closer to the chest — but I had the delightful experience of having friends begging me for updates!
    (Dear Disney: I’d still super love to write this for real; call me).
    Later on, through college, the fanfic was mostly Harry Potter based. I spent a lot of time exploring Bellatrix Black, Sirius Black, and Rowena Ravenclaw, in particular. The Blacks just fascinated me in a sort of Jungian “explore the dark mirror of your own nature” sort of way, while with Rowena and the other Founders, I was determined to write a more historically-appropriate version of the Founding of Hogwarts, since JK Rowling apparently can’t distinguish pre-Norman England from the 15th century. Then, post-grad-school, my attention turned towards Wizarding America, in concert with two of my besties, and we wrote a ton of material for a Tumblr Blog that was very successful right up until JK started trying to write America, which she does so poorly that it depressed us into giving up. (JK Rowling does. not. understand. this country).
  • A dystopia set in rural Virginia, also written and rewritten many times from about ages 16 on. In senior year of college, I re-envisioned it in my screenwriting class and ended up polishing it to the point where I felt willing to submit it to contests. It actually made it to the semi-finals of the Final Draft competition (a fairly large and well-known one) in 2011!
  • Map“Relics”, a rewrite of “Fire” in my early twenties that was somewhat better but still groaning under the weight of fantasy tropes. In this version, the questing princess had a bit more of a purpose: she had to go looking for the sacred relics that represented the eight magical elements of her world. (I told you it contained the seeds of the Aven Cycle’s magical system; I’ve been thinking about these things for a long time). This project was also a ridiculous worldbuilding timesuck. I’m pretty sure I charted the royal family tree back, like, eighteen generations. But, hey, if George R R Martin can get away with it…
    (Also, looking at that map helps me pinpoint roughly when my handwriting cemented into its adult form).
  • A Trojan War retelling from the viewpoint of (of course) the prophetess Cassandra.
  • Steampunk Camelot. Honestly this one never got much farther than that general idea. Might be fun to revisit as a sort of Celtopunk project instead?
  • A few false-starts at Regency romances. I figure I read enough of them, why not give writing them a try? Answer: I get too bogged down in the history.
  • An Aladdin retelling set in the pre-Islamic Sassanid empire. This one I’d love to pick up again at some point when I can do the grad school level research required.
  • A high tech Trojan War set in outer space, where Troy is a space station & its walls are impenetrable force fields. Also never got much further than concept.
  • A story of the Fae set in Williamsburg VA in the 1760s. Another one I’d like to revive. Maybe as a short story?
  • “The Antares Project”, a steampunk AU I’ve been dabbling with since ‘06. This is the one I blogged about for the Deb Ball this week. It has a great world (based on if the US lost the War of 1812) and fantastic cast that I adore and no plot. A lot of great scenes written. No coherent story. Sigh.
  • And then the two I’m *actually* working on now in addition to Book Two: the Julie d’Aubigny-inspired space opera romp, and a secondworld fantasy with star-based magic.

And that list is so partial, y’all. Just the major things that sprung to mind. If I combed my files and old notebooks, there are so, so many more kernels. There are probably a bunch I have literally no memory of. Because I keep it all — I seriously never delete anything, and I’ve never thrown out a writing notebook. They’re all there, waiting, in boxes that are currently in storage. On my computer, the files are are all neatly archived away. But they’re there. Some of them I may never look at again. Some may only get glanced at with fond remembrance for the child I once was. Some may have good bits I can cannibalize and reconfigure. Some may actually be worth reviving.CMd4-9AUYAEmhZP

I don’t feel that any of them were wasted effort.

Because the thing is this: If you want to be a writer, write.

Write things that don’t work. Write character profiles you never use. Write stories that don’t get past the first page. Write down hazy ides that come to you in dreams. Write ridiculous self-insert fanfic.

Yes, you do have to finish something eventually, if you want to publish, but all the false starts have value, too. It’s all training.

I’m so glad I’ve spent so much of my life playing with words.


If you’re interested in seeing bits and pieces of some of these false starts, join my Patreon! I share snippets of them from time to time — even the embarrassing juvenilia! 😉 

Camp Nano: Writing with Anxiety

Originally written for the Camp Nanowrimo blog this month!


Chin up, PrincessThat meme, right there? That explains a lot about who I am. I’ve got what some people call “high-functioning” anxiety, the kind that makes you a constantly over-wound spring but determined not to let anyone know that you’re screaming internally. I am a Slytherin, driven to achieve and to do so publicly — because if other people don’t know about it, does it even count? And if I’m not doing my best, if I’m not meeting all my goals and checking everything off my list, aren’t I just a lazy failure? Aren’t I letting myself down, and thus letting down literally everyone I’ve ever met?

Well, of course not. But the demon in my head doesn’t know that.

If any of that is sounding familiar, my sympathies. I know how rough it is. Here are a few things I keep in mind to help manage the mental chaos:

#1: Block off time for things that are not writing. This is hard especially when you’re on a deadline or trying to meet a daily Nano goal, but it’s a crucial thing to learn. Anxiety and stress quite literally fray your nerves, neurologically speaking. Your brain needs breaks, but if you’re like me, it’s tough to give your brain that permission. Lately, I’ve been using my bullet journal’s habit tracker to make sure I do things like read for pleasure, tend to my spirituality, and not fall asleep with my phone clutched in my hand. Checking things off on the habit tracker feels like achievement, which assuages the sense of “but if you’re not constantly working, you’re an unproductive loser”. I’m trying to redefine my broken brain’s perception of what productivity is — sometimes it has to be those things which feed your soul and keep you sane. That’s not an indulgence. It’s keeping yourself in top working order by giving your nerves a chance to rest and heal.

#2: Celebrate the small victories. If anxiety is something that makes you super goal-oriented, learn to find some smaller benchmarks in addition to the biggies. Your end goal might be finishing your Nano project, getting published, hitting the bestseller list — but quite apart from the aspects of those things which are outside of your immediate control, those goals are also always going to be delayed gratification. That can make the day-to-day grind a frustrating endeavor. Give you brain a nice dopamine hit by finding things to celebrate more often: hitting a sprint goal, writing a smashing paragraph, learning a new word. Finding things to take pride and joy in on a more regular basis has really helped me to remember that the major goals do not have to eat my entire life or define my sense of self.

#3: If you need more help, get it. Whatever form that help takes — medications, therapy, changes to your life. I wish I had done so much, much earlier. Instead, I struggled for fifteen years, unable to figure out why every so often, my life just seemed to spiral apart beyond my ability to cope with circumstances. Finally seeing a psychiatrist and getting prescriptions to help with anxiety, depression, and insomnia helped immeasurably. They didn’t change who I am — but they dialed the trouble down to a level I could actually manage. That, in turn, made it much easier to actually write. Needing help does not make you weak. Seeking it out is not an indulgence. Accepting it will not dull your creativity.

This anxiety is always going to be a part of me, and in some ways, I’m okay with that. I like being driven to achieve. But I’m also really glad that I’m learning ways to keep it from counterproductively destroying my ability to function. It’s an ongoing process, to be sure! But then, so am I. And that’s just fine.