So, my publisher has sent over an “internally approved” cover. It’s a touch overly dramatic for my taste, but there are reasons I’m terrible at self-promotion/marketing.
And the manuscript has been delivered to McFarland Pub. Well, uploaded to their ftp server.
Either way, it’s out of my hands for a month or two and that’s another stage of the publication process complete.
Just their editorial review, revision based on that, proofreading page proofs, and indexing to go.
My apologies for seemingly abandoning this blog. It has not been intentional. It’s been a time and, in some ways, interest thing.
Between online teaching (which isn’t too bad, except for the number of students whom I really feel I could have helped pass the class if we’d been f-2-f) and tutoring (which is much more difficult online), my desire to be online and do serious, productive things has diminished. Add in book edits and that’s more screen time sucked away.
My creativity has been shifted to worldbuilding for fun, as a priority. Blogging hit the bottom of the heap, after work, family, book, kittens, and mindless writing.
On the fun side, we’ve been streaming Star Trek: Discovery and enjoying it as well as The Mandalorian. I’ve caught and enjoyed Umbrella Academy (Netflix) and The Order (Netflix). Wife’s been glued to The Crown (Netflix).
I know things have been quiet around here. Part of that’s Covid, family stuff, and work. Part of it is that things have been moving and shaking behind the curtain.
The result is that about mid-October, I sent a query letter to McFarland Books. Got a positive response in less than 24 hours. Sent out a full proposal a few days later.
Yesterday, I signed a contract to publish a book built out of the series of posts about magic from 2016 (tagged Magic Series). I need to add at least another 7,000 words, and have it all revised for delivery by mid-February. So, if things go well, it should be on shelves around May 2021.
This month, my werewolf book is part of McFarland Pub’s Horror sale (code: HORROR for 40% off) through October 16th.
It’s also part of their Harry Potter books catalog:
The abandoned three story neoclassical colonial had a certain inviting appeal, Gil had to admit. Despite looking out of place, surrounded by corn and soy fields something like thirty miles from the nearest town. These signs screamed run away to anyone who had seen almost any horror movie.
Gilead Hayes smiled at the thought.
Not that Haven House’s appearance meant anything.
It had changed a few times in the several years that he had called it home. Not changed as in a new coat of paint and some landscaping. Changed as in last month it had been a two story Tudor manor.
Gil jogged across the deserted two lane county road, slowing to a stroll up the gravel driveway. He took the opportunity to absorb the changes, noting the wrap around porch. Someone, he saw, had gone all out with the shrubbery around the front. They looked southern, not native to the Midwestern farmland.
The door swung open silently mere seconds before he could knock.
. . . well, not the best place in the world.
Numbers of infections & deaths continue to rise here as so much of the world gets things under control. The one ray of light is that the current regime seems to be getting hit hard by their absolute failure to respond adequately to the pandemic. 45* has falling approval numbers, increasing disapproval, dismal turn out at events, and is getting beaten in campaign fund raising. So, we have hopeful signs he’ll be out in November, in a fair election (assuming little to no voter suppression, etc.).
In the meantime, my college is continuing online only or 90% online for the foreseeable future. But, of course, aikido is shut down indefinitely beyond what little home practice can be done (weapons kata and basic movements).
Writing continues. Putting the finishing touches on the magic book. That’s currently sitting at over 56,000 words and 191 pages. Probably start looking at publishers soon.
Also working on a multiverse world build for fun. About 14-15k into that so far. Mostly working on iPhone Notes app then transferring to Word, converting notes to paragraphs, then editing & expanding a hard copy.
Watching ST: Discovery season 2. We’re down to the last couple episodes. I think the plan is to subscribe to Disney+ at that point. Continuing Mythbusters with the kid and introduced him to ST:ToS.
Also added some Discworld art from the Discworld Emporium in the UK.
Third installment of quarantine activities. This one has been modified a bit since first conception.
So, I’ve been working half-heartedly on the non-fiction book project. Mostly looking through, marking up, and taking notes on articles, books, and websites to incorporate. Still have yet to add anything from them, but hopefully that will start shortly. In the meantime, roughly 50,000 words in to things. Pretty happy with that for a second draft.
On the more creative, fiction side, I have put together several worldbuilds of varying levels of detail. Most have been set aside as “practice” material, or proof of concept, or trying out an idea that may reappear later in a more evolved form. Currently, I’m sitting on two, one of which may not go anywhere and the other is at a minimal detail stage (basically a collection of random notes).
That one has spawned a number of focused worldbuilding/lore vignettes and some shorts. I think the shorts are going to be further developed as a sort of slice of life style collection. For a while, even before working on the magic book, but emphasized as I worked on it, I’ve had a thought nagging at the back of my mind. We have a lot of stories, novels, TV shows, movies, etc. that incorporate, involve, or focus on magic schools. However, these almost exclusively focus on the perspective of the students (usually the newest student). The only exceptions I could think of off hand were Pratchett’s Unseen University (faculty perspective, and once a faculty-staff perspective, sort of, in Unseen Academicals) and Charmed’s Magic School (kind of faculty/admin perspective). But, the former is a parody of real world schools and the latter was never a major focus (and was primarily added, for a season or so, due to the rising popularity of Harry Potter).
These little slice of life, linked, vignettes/shorts kind of morphed as I developed the lore vignettes. They’ve become focused on the perspective of the staff of a magic school (caretaker, security, cook, grounds, librarian, steward, healer) moving behind the scenes. I may expand them into some of the areas geographically immediately adjacent to the school too.
(This one was mostly written to see if I could still write a fight scene. Also to see if I could describe a particular technique. I’m pretty happy with that part.)
An instant of resistance against the knife blade, but the Kevlar parted before superior strength.
Beep beep beep.
Damn. Bad timing.
Crunch as the heel of a combat boot connected with a jaw.
Beep beep beep.
On feet, survey surroundings in a second.
Four down, two active. Target frozen, probably mix of fear and shock.
Understandable, Talya decided. He’d hired the best he could afford. But they had no way to prepare for one of her kind.
She turned, blocked an arm with her own, as the beeping came back to her ear. A quick jab to the face broke the guard’s nose as she flipped his wrist, both snapping his elbow and causing his knife to clatter on the concrete. A spin and knee to the short ribs left internal bleeding and a single active hostile standing.
The woman had already shot her three times, and missed a couple others. Good grouping, Talya absently noted, all center of mass, an area the size of her fist.
The incessant, intermittent, beeping continued.
Shit. No time for this.
With a grin, Talya let a bit of beast show. Not enough to lose control, but just enough for a feral glow to her eyes and a bit of fang to show.
Just the amount to convince the other woman that she wasn’t getting paid enough. And that caution was the better part of valor.
As the last guard ran, Talya focused on the target and touched the earpiece to take her call.
“Gregor? Dude, I’m in the middle of a job . . . that you set up.”
“The Demetri thing. Just a sec.”
She thumbed her earpiece to mute.
“Waylon Morrell? Demetri sends his regards and says he wants his money. Two days, or this warning becomes the real thing.”
Turning away from the cowering man, Talya unmuted.
“Why was your phone on? Don’t you use ‘don’t disturb’?”
“Gregor. You called twice in a minute. It registered as an emergency and went through. I was shot, twice, because you distracted me.”
Talya rolled her eyes.
“I’ll be adding a replacement shirt to my bill, Gregor.”
“Fine. Demetri can cover it.”
“What’s the emergency?”
“I need a consult, Talya. Usual finder’s fee.”
“What’s the job?”
“Retrieval . . . I’d offer it to you, but it’s a team thing. In the community, not norms.”
“What’s the pay?”
Gregor named a figure that caused her to miss a step.
She recovered and slid into a nondescript Toyota.
“ASAP, three weeks max.”
Talya thought for a few seconds as she pulled into traffic.
“I can have a team together in 72 hours,” she said. Five way split, it would still be worth it for a three week job. Which meant either tough owner or expensive item.
“You sure?” Gregor did not, she thought, do a good job hiding his surprise. “It needs a team and isn’t your usual . . .”
“Just send me the details. I’ll cover the rest.”
“No details until the team’s confirmed. Not after Minsk.”
Talya paused, processing.
“You brokered Minsk?”
“Sadly. Took a big hit.”
“Fine. I’ll get in touch in two days. The usual number?”
“I’ll look forward to the call. But, come Friday, I’ll offer it to someone else. Just business.”
Talya disconnected the call as she turned onto an entrance ramp. The highway, 270, made a rough loop around the city, through the suburbs, and connected all the major interstates that passed by or through. She liked to think of it as more the heart of the city than downtown was. Everything passed through 270 somehow.
As her eyes scanned the traffic and sought the Highland Road exit, most of her mind ran down a virtual dossier of people she knew in the business.
Thomas and Mordecai would be in, easy. If they weren’t on jobs already. Jade would be good on the back end, and she’d see the challenge. Only a little effort to convince her.
That would give her entry, magic support, and tech-tactical support.
No, he didn’t work well with others, and there was Boston, she thought.
Chen might be good, but she’d heard he died a couple week before. Siddiq never left the Midwest, so unless the job was limited, he was out.
That left . . . Caroline.
Talya considered as she pulled into a parking spot.
She shouldered a knapsack and small messenger bag, locked the car, and strode toward the train station. She preferred the train to planes. They were slower, but there were fewer questions and travel between cities in the state was faster by train than car.
As she took place on the platform, Talya nodded to herself. Caroline brought a generalist to the team. She could hold her own and be second to the guys, if needed. And, most important, she could be trusted.
She’d also be the most difficult to convince, though having Jade in would help that. Lucifer would need wool socks before Caroline could pass up a cute redhead.
The train pulled out as Talya scanned the nearly empty carriage. Her phone was out before they cleared the station.
“Hey, Jade. How’re things? Good. Listen . . . Gregor’s got a job he sent my way. Could use a little help if you’re still freelancing . . .”
(Some of this piece may appear in another work, because I like parts of it. For now, it’s a brief exploration)
To the untrained eye, the main floor of the Luna Nova was a chaotic mix of people and species. However, an experienced patron could read the topography and tectonics of the room.
Jastian Wells was hip deep in the second group.
With that knowledge, a person could, he knew, see the enforcers and the normal joes, the Almasti and the shtriga, and read the affiliations, alliances, and feuds. Reading the room was, therefore, reading the city.
He visually swept the room, taking note of who and what was there. The Carusos and Narvos had half the room between them, which meant their short lives alliance was dead. And that meant Torvald lost the bet and owed him.
Jastian unconsciously, and subtly, checked the handful of knives about his person as raised voices came from the bar. He glanced over . . . a big shifter, who’d obviously had a few too many, looked about to go furry on a skinny Black guy, whose bearing and eyes screamed shtriga. The Luna’s security was already closing in, a mountainous gargoyle and her whipcord Almasti partner. The Luna’s strict policies on magic, bronze, silver, and long blades kept damage to a minimum, but the staff liked to stop trouble before it got too far.
As he relaxed, a heavy set, middle aged man stopped by his table. Smelled like a werebeast, canine probably.
“But, the barman . . .”
“Well, he was wrong.”
He must have still been able to pull off the ‘bad ass’ face because the were only paused a second before muttering an apology and beating a hasty retreat.
Jastian made a mental note to speak with Kira, the bar manager. He hadn’t used the Marcus alias in several years. Not since changing his calling and profession. A lifetime ago.
Besides, he was waiting on a probable client, not on the market.
The Luna Nova had started its life as a werebeast bar. They liked the joke in the name. Within a year, he’d heard, it became the place all the local beast changers hung out. Then all the changers. In a few years, Luna had acquired a reputation as the place to go to hire freelance changer talent. Pretty soon, the entire community began frequenting the place. The once little werebeast bar became a major night spot for all magical peoples in the city.
His reverie was interrupted by a trim, fit man just starting to go grey around the temples. Meeting his eyes, Jastian decided the man had been starting to go grey for a couple centuries.
At the man’s nod, he gestured toward the empty chair.
He waited for Cutter to get settled, and let the other man start.
“Mister Wells, are you familiar with Bareth Oren?”
“The number two man in the Three Horns’ presence in Caerik? Somewhat.” The man didn’t smell dead, so not a vampire. Didn’t smell of blood either, so not shtriga.
“The people I represent wish to meet with him face to face, not through intermediaries, to discuss business.”
“And? I don’t know him well enough to introduce you.”
“Not to worry, Mr. Wells. We will arrange a date through other channels. I require someone to ensure my arrival in Caerik, to the meeting, and back to Earth again. Someone familiar with Faere, Caerik, and our counterparts in that city.”
“And you don’t want the families, houses, et cetera on this side, or the authorities on the other, to know about this trip, I assume.”
Cutter nodded, almost imperceptibly, “Of course.”
“So the Talville gate is out on this side. The major players monitor it constantly. You have a gate opener?”