Patreon updates and previews!

Even though I feel like I talk about it all the time, you might not know I have a Patreon. It’s kind of a great fit for me, I love sharing production and process info, but it’s not always things that should or can be shared widely. Right now I’ve just got one level and for a dollar a month you get access to all sorts of bullshit, like print-size files of things, previews of work in progress, etc. I also just added something for Patrons that I waffled about…

Another writing focus, making progress

I have like two thirds of the book outlined! This is a hella beefier outline that what I used for the first book, but I have a lot more characters and tropes to keep track of and fulfil. I still want to write a flash or two to fill out what gets done this month, but since I’m also revising/editing The Audacity Gambit, we’ll see. I want to print out the revised draft through a POD, for one more read through, but it will need a cover.  Which is why…

Chaparral

Oop, wrote a quick story. From his balcony carved out of living rock, Teags watched the Great Burn eat its way across the world. Huddled around his coffee in the crisp mountain air, he saw flames licking at the borders of Second Hope. His sister, along with the rest of the township, had been evacuated on schedule according to the proctor’s evaluation of the fire’s path through their sector. It hadn’t been a panicked evac, a full month’s notice gave the people of Second Hope plenty of time to close…

Sleeping

1. There was a princess.   2. Prince Frances, stalwart and true, stood before the wall of thorns and contemplated his approach. He looked up, following the thick growth as it twisted and snagged up crenellated walls and towers. There was a castle beneath the briar and, if rumour proved true, a princess in magical sleep, awaiting a kiss. Frances hadn’t rescued a princess before, though he was familiar with quests and had won a few. The sword he jabbed experimentally at the thorns had been dipped in the blood…

Comparative

I have a year long plan. This month is dedicated to writing. If he’d had a choice, Dean wouldn’t have gone to old man Gatson’s, but he hated making his own batteries and there was little argument that the codger produced some of the best. Hopping down from the open-sided bus with a wave at the driver, Dean unslung the folding wire cart from his shoulders and wheeled it across buckled pavement that ran like a moat around the strip mall. There was a city project to tear up some…