So I’ve quit the day job and turned myself into a full-time writer. Yay!

And I’ve apparently done the impossible, because according to traditional wisdom, a new, full-time writer is supposed to slow down for the first six months of their transition, because they have to reinvent everything. Apparently, doing that wrong.

In 2017 l I averaged about 37,000 words per month, or a little over a thousand words a day. I knew I had sped up, but didn’t really track it as a separate value in March, as I had so many things going on. Did track my numbers in April, as an experiment. 75,000 words. Or, just shy of what the old timers call Pulp Speed One (one million words per year), which would have been 83,334 words, or a million words per year pace. (Pulp Speed Two is 100,000 words per month sustained.)

So now I have a target for May. Not that much of a stretch, either. Need to hit 21,000 per week, and I’ve on that pace. Part of the issue is that writing at that speed is a muscle, and you have to train for writing marathons just like you do running ones. Working on that. Getting better. Learning.

However, I have also sped up. The old pace I maintained had a goal of constantly working on a longer piece (novel or novella), while dropping out and writing a short (-er) story every month so I can maintain my monthly schedule to publish things.

That’s gone up to at least two stories per month now. So I have a lot of material in the can, waiting publication dates. That’s good.

Where it gets hinky is that The Red Admiral comes out next week, and I’ll be answering questions from folks about that, and I’ve already finished Lord Of Winter (#7) and started plotting out Book 8 (title reveal at a later date because I feel like it).

Worse, I had to write a short Yan Bedrov novella that sort of takes place during the last part of Lord of Winter, but I had been planning it for a while.

And then, at the end of the novel, a situation arose, and writer-brain spun me off into a whole other storyline. Let me put it to you this way, I’m 40,000 words into the first novel of a quick trilogy that will take place outside of Jessica’s storyline, and be fully resolved before the end of book 8, but I need to write all three of these before I can finish the eighth book, due to implications that will come up. Messy, messy, messy, because I don’t want it in Jessica’s last two books.

At the same time, the secret writing project is going public in a few weeks. I’ve written five stories directly for it over the last year, plus two other stories that have to come out at carefully set times, plus a couple of completely unrelated stories that just jumped up and bit me.

I risk losing track of where I am. But I have never had as much fun writing, so it will be full speed ahead for a while, while I adjust to the new pace.

So, you, as a fan, when you ask me questions about a particular story, do me a favor and remind me in greater detail what I’m talking about? Because I’m several hundred thousand words ahead of you right now, and need to pivot to figure out what I’m talking about.

On the brighter side of things, The Red Admiral is out in a few days. Have you ordered your copy?

And don’t forget The Write Stuff bundle is ongoing. Your chance to learn about the craft from some amazing writers (and me). Get yours today.

So every spring, Kris Rusch puts together a bundle of books on the craft of writing. This year, I was lucky enough to be included in The Write Stuff bundle. There are some new and interesting books  up this year, including Kris’s book on Creating Your Author Brand and Dean’s book about writing a novel in five days while traveling, because Dean’s crazy. I’m somehow up there with my newly released Business For Breakfast book: The Three Act Dramatic Structure.

This one I wrote because many folks writing fiction come in via the typical creative writing courses in high school and college. I tried that. Honestly, I did. My last college creative writing professor was one of those people who would never give one of her students an A if they possessed a penis. True story. I knew that going in, and scored as high a B+ as she would allow, and probably would have been an A if I was a girl. Shit happens. Learned a lot, even if I suffered a serious amount of abuse from that “person.”

I took the abuse the wrong way. It was as a sign I that I should stop writing fiction at that point, and instead transition all my effort into epic, long-form poetry. There are six volumes of stuff, mostly dark fantasy, most of which have never seen the light of day. Maybe one of these days.

Later, I started running with a different crowd, and spent some time writing short stage plays (for sale in many places, if you’re bold and a little crazy).

When I finally stumbled into Fabulous Publisher Babe(tm), she convinced me to write fiction again for the first time in roughly 25 years. And I’ve done pretty good at it. But along the way, I learned a whole different way of story-telling. The 3 Act is different than the typical 7-Point Plot Structure, so she convinced me that not many writers knew about that way of doing things (and the 2-Act, the 4-Act, etc.) so I should write a book about it for writers looking for more tools to go into their toolbox.

That’s my story, and I won’t tell you the truth without free booze and sushi.

But Kris liked it enough to include in the bundle for writers. As she said in the intro: ”

…in the past, when I’ve compiled these bundles, I did my best to make bundles that would help all kinds of writers.

This year, that includes writers like me.

In this bundle you’ll find ten different writing products. They have a lot to teach you.”

M.L. Buchman wrote a fantastic book about how to set up your literary estate. I helped review it in early drafts, and provided copies of my (very weird) will and estate as an example of some of the strange things creatives need to think about.

As a creative (more than just writers, I’m addressing you artists of all flavors and shapes), did you know your copyright will outlive you by 70 years, right now? That means your great-great-grandkids can continue to collect royalties and residuals for something you did today.

GET YOUR WILL DONE AND KEEP IT UP TO DATE!!!

“Hollywood” Hendrickson has a book on how to get your book into schools (assuming you aren’t writing erotica, etc. heh) and significantly increase your revenue and discoverability.

The other books and things in this bundle are just as impressive, and will go a long ways towards helping your be a better creative. Note: I didn’t say writer, I said creative. These things go far beyond just writers. There are important lessons and ideas for any crazy person like us.

You should reach out to the artists in your life and let them know about this bundle. They will get a lot of material, from some amazing people, at a really good price.

So the names won’t mean anything to the rest of you, for now, but I’ve been listening to two of my characters argue back and forth for several weeks. (At some point, you’ll meet Angus and her grandmother and understand that previous sentence.) The topic is doing new things on a regular basis. Fabulous Publisher Babe(tm) refers to something similar as her “anti-stodgy campaign.”

The logic goes like this: According to studies, most people lock down their personalities pretty hard starting in their mid-teens. By their mid-twenties, things are carved into ruts. You will eat the same food, wear the same clothes, listen to the same music (usually the same albums, and not just the same bands), etc. for the rest of your life. Let me repeat that: for the rest of your life.

That frightens me. It’s worse when I realize how many people I have encountered in my life who are still THERE. (Three decades later, for me, as a scale of comparison.) Listening to exactly the same bands now on the state fair circuit, without a new album in decades.

So the Babe works every month to do something completely new. New clothes. New food. Maybe a new toothpaste or a new way to drive home. Conscious effort to say YES to new things when given the chance.

We call it “Adventures.”

Why this matters.

I have been infected with adventure.

Last week, we were in the Half-priced Books store, looking for something. Wasn’t there, but I stopped and looked at the used music racks, just for fun. I have found that I can frequently find some greatest hit album for a band I sort of know and kind of like, for about $5. Or, cheaper than I could get the two or three songs I really like from someplace like Amazon.

There was a album that looked just weird. Odd name. Weird picture. Hand-written font for most things. $4. What the hell. Looks like fun, and I need to do something crazy this month, so I bought it.

No idea who the band is. Walk out into the parking lot, jump in Baxter, and throw it into the CD player. Windows are down. Sunroof is open. Nice day.

Turned out to be a pretty good album. First of so far three from a Scottish band. Might have to dig up the others, and wiki tells me that they are supposedly recording a fourth (I think. Not looking it up right now to confirm.).

The band caught my eye originally because of their name: We Were Promised Jetpacks. And, damn it, we were. Somebody should do something about that.

The album was These Four Walls. Pretty good stuff. Not going to move the world, but a nice listen and I ripped it to add into the mix.

Last month, someone on social media suggested a band named Tinariwen, which they described as a Tuareg Blues. Yes, seriously. Once you get past the singing in a language I don’t speak, it is absolutely Mississippi Blues. The album I picked up was their 2015 concert album: Live in Paris. And I’m not usually a blues fan. But these folks are good musicians, and were having a good time.

Which brings me back to the original point: What new thing have you done lately?

🙂

A decade ago, I lost three of the closest people in my life, over the course of about a year. One simply vanished, his inbox overflowing, fate unknown. The second was my first wife, Donna, who died of breast cancer in the summer of 2008, after a three year battle she would never win.

The third was my friend Perry Clark. He was a gamer I met when I first moved to Seattle in ’97. A chef and raconteur who was endlessly charming and lovable. Former navy man who occasionally got called up to do things that involved disappearing without a trace for a week, and then coming home, unable to discuss.

But a dear friend.

When he had to return to Georgia to deal with an ailing parent, he drove there and then got stuck. Six months turned into years, and he found a job and and a good woman. I used one of those old Southwest travel passes I had accumulated in the day job, to fly him to Seattle for a week so he could be mybest man when Donna finally let me marry her, right at the end. Mostly, though, so I could get him home, to remind him.

Then I handed him off to some other friends who hadn’t seen him in years either.

That’s how good a friend and a man he was.

In February, 2009, I got a call. His number. A woman’s voice asking “Is this Blaze?”

And I knew immediately.

He had been at church on a Wednesday night, cooking dinner for the congregants, like he always did. Wasn’t feeling well, so he sat down, suddenly unable to breathe. His lips turned blue and he died in the arms of the pastor, surrounded by his other adopted family, returning to him all the love he had always given to those around him.

His sister told us the story. She flew up to Seattle a few months later, returning a few things, like the little brass telescope I had given him as a Best Man present, something he prized enough to have told her and others about it.

I miss him.

I miss them all, but today would have been his fifty-sixth birthday, and I never got a chance to say goodbye, or how much he meant to me. I hope he knew. I can only wake up and look at my phone, when it flashes the birthday reminders each day, and think about how much he would have enjoyed where my life had gone to.

He always took joy in the happiness and success of others, and I have tried to live my life the same way.

But today I miss him.

Happy birthday, dear friend. You are not forgotten.

So it’s been about six weeks of being a writer full time. Starting to establish some of the patterns of life, but got a ways to go. And new things keep happening in strange ways.

Got up Friday morning when the body said wake up. Managing to sleep until 630 or 700 many days now, up from 400 for however many years. Shower, feed the cat, clean the litter box. The usual Kabuki with Kitty.

Then I open the curtains in my bedroom and surprise an elk, grazing in the septic drain field. The house is T-shaped, with the two bedrooms on the crossbar and a bathroom between them, so I’m looking at her down the length of the bar and across the driveway. Maybe 60 feet away.

Really awesome. I have an elk in the yard. Those are infrequent. Got deer I see way more.

She looks up and locks on me as the curtains open, so I wave. (I’m like that.) She goes back to ignoring me and munching grass.

Go to fix myself coffee and breakfast, but decide to spin the computer around to face the other direction today, so I can watch her graze. Big, majestic matriarch, from the looks of her.

About the time I have hot food and hot coffee, I see more elk in the yard. They come up the hill from my neighbor on the left, running along the railroad tracks below us, and then cross my hill because I have cut all sorts of trails in the blackberry and underbrush for my wife to enjoy.

At this point, I realize the whole herd is moving through, as I have her at the far right end of the septic field, with a couple of other females with her, and then I get to see the boys. Buck with at least five points (maybe six, never got a clean view of him and the pictures are not that clear either.) Younger buck with a pair of 16 inch spikes. And a yearling with a single, eight inch spike on one side of his head.

Mob, just happily grazing. At one point, I counted fifteen butts in view, stretched across the west side of the property, right where it starts up the hill to my landlocked neighbor. (She has a driveway easement, blocked in by me, railroad tracks, cliff, and wilderness preserve. Nice lady.)

I had been planning to empty the composting bucket that morning, but as the herd moves across and down the hill, four of them ended up by the composter munching grass merrily. Since they outweigh me, I figure they get the right to stay, plus I like having big critters about. (They don’t seem to like this particular salt lick, so I need to change flavors. Usually, they vanish faster.)

So, for about an hour, I had a herd of elk in my back yard. A whole, freaking herd.

Then, Saturday. Turned around at one point and saw a yearling deer in the septic field. Wander over to the window and check. He stays put and munches. About an hour later, I now have four deer. That’s the most I’ve ever seen at one time. Usually, Momma gives birth to twins and I see them gamboling about all summer. (She’s likely to give birth in about two weeks, if she’s pregnant. Not sure with this group.) After summer, they’ll split up, except they haven’t.

The usual group all winter has been a two-year-old pair of siblings, boy and girl, plus a yearling from last year that I presume is the younger sibling. This fourth one might have been Momma. She was bigger than the others, and had a healing scar on her left shoulder that I couldn’t have covered with my whole hand. Fabulous Publisher Babe (TM) suggested that an aggressive male might have bit or scratched her.

Dunno. Just enjoy my critters. Have two water troughs out for them, and a salt lick. Having deer and elk around lets me know that I do not have any large cats in the neighborhood. That’s important, considering how far out I live in the wilderness, with a railroad right of way and a wilderness preserve less than two hundred meters from a corner of my property.

Had problems about six years ago, when someone clear cut a major chunk of land about a mile away. One neighbor thought they had a rogue male black bear (the less dangerous kind that generally just kill trash cans) in the area briefly, but I’ve had nothing for a while. Odd possum. Saw that might have been a feral cat once. Lots of hummingbirds and other winged attitude problems.

Once I got my house built in the middle of the last big open space in this neighborhood, the predators have apparently moved on. I can have fifteen elk wander through and occasionally bed down. And I find all sorts of spaces for deer to hang out. Haven’t been hunting for big game in nearly fifteen years, and don’t really miss it.

Mind you, I grew up hunting birds every fall. Pheasant, quail, occasional dove. Had pheasant the other day for dinner, and realized it was the first one I had ever eaten that hadn’t been shot by me or my dad. That was a weird thing.  Turned into a hippy in middle age. Might still go after birds one of these days, but don’t know anybody around here with the right connections. (My dad knew EVERYONE, when it came to getting permission to hunt birds on their land, but that was a thousand miles away.)

Later, I might post some of the pictures I took of my critters this week. Look on my FB wall.

And I’m writing like hell, with the new normal. Wrote two stories this week, with editing and publishing work. And more coming. My pace has more than doubled at present, and I hope to maintain that all summer, when I have a lot of carpentry work to do.

But for now, I got critters to share the yard with.

shade and sweet water,

bd

West of the Mountains, WA

Happy Dance!!!

“The Hammerfield Payoff (The Science Officer Volume 8) is now on sale at Audible, and it will be available on iTunes and Amazon within the next few days.”

For those of you keeping score at home, that means that Matt has caught up with me and completed Season One of The Science Officer. All eight books are now available in an audio format. This makes me happy.

In addition, I’m hard at work on what will become story #9, hopefully in the fall. This one will be a collection of shorts, instead of a novella, like the rest are, and will serve as a bridge between Season One (1-8) and Season Two (10-17). Fabulous Publisher Babe(tm) is also currently researching how we might do the Omnibus Editions as straight audio books, by just having Matt upload his original files into the new title and running with it. Stay tuned for more details as I know them.

Things landed at a good spot at the end of The Hammerfield Payoff, and it had always been my intention to take a break so I could make some progress on Jessica. If you’ve been paying attention, you saw my note earlier this week that I had finished the first draft of Lord of Winter, with a planned publication date of December 2018 at present. The Red Admiral  (Jessica #6) comes out in a little over a month, and I’m quite thrilled with it.

Melissa is hard at work on doing audible versions of the Jessica Keller books, starting with Auberon and she is deep into Queen of the Pirates right now. Eventually, all nine of those will be available in audio versions as well, as I expect to write the last two Jessica novels (8 & 9) over the next 12 months and drop them on roughly the same schedule in 2019 (June and December).

Thank you for staying with me as I work through this mess. There are so many stories I want to tell, and so little time to tell them, but there is also good news on that front. On February 24, I walked away from the day job finally and have spent the last month organizing and speeding up my writing.

According to folks like Dean, most writers actually slow way down for at least six months to a year after they make the transition. Something about losing the focus on carving out whatever time a person has, between job, family, and life, to write. They suddenly have hours of free space that needs to be used writing.

It is a muscle. I am aware that I can’t just make a huge leap to writing 10,000 words a day. (I have done that twice, under weird and special circumstance, btw.) But this year, I want to jump from a target of 450,000 words to 650,000 words. That involves going from an average of just over 1200 word per day to just under 1800 words every day. I don’t write every single day, as things happen. (Went to a nursery in Morton, WA on Thursday and that was a day trip.) But Friday I managed about 5500 words.

The key is progress. For me, a little counter at the top of my spreadsheet that assumes 1781 words each day, offset by how many days into the year we are. Today is the 90th day of 2018. I’m a little over three days ahead of my production target, and I spent the entire morning in the garden. Planted new stuff: two FIlbert trees, another aronia, a new lingonberry, and a new kind of strawberry (flavor #15). Took a grape, a strawberry, a lavender, and an oregano out of pots and put them in the ground. Had some coffee and some gatorade, and now getting into the second half of my day. There will be words shortly, and then I’ll head into Seattle later and do a barcon. (That’s where I won’t go to Norwescon for personal reasons, but will hang out at the bar and catch up with old friends in town. If you read this in time, ping me with contact info if you wanna meet up, or come looking.)

We’re making progress. I’m speeding up in my writing, as I’ve hit 5,000 words in a day a couple of times now over the last two weeks. That means more Javier and Jessica for you.

Two tidbits, as rewards for people that made it this far: I just finished a short story that is a sequel to Fairchild. Publication date unknown, because it’s 6500 words now, and I could turn around and make that an Act One of a full novel, depending on feedback. Maybe later. Title: The Strawberry Dragon.

Second: there will be a new Alexandria Station story coming out in June. It takes place at the beginning of the Concordancy War, and is the start of a new timeline (new characters, new worlds, new everything) just before the fall of civilization. Title: Last Leaf Falling. Watch this space for more details.

Thank you for helping make my dreams come true.

Shade and sweet water,

bd

West of the Mountains, WA

yes, you read that right. Suvi’s birthday is March 19th. I have it programmed into my phone for birthday reminders, so I woke up this morning and got the note. What’s more fun is that the machine is smart enough to do the math, but slightly confused, because it shows her age as -5408.

That’s correct, by the way. She will be born on a rainy Sunday in March, according to the old notes. And the year will be 7426 CE. She will be decanted into a small probe-cutter, late in the war, and then go on to serve The Concord and humanity for far longer than any of her cohorts ever dreamed. (As a hint, I have my notes for Jean-Pierre, who will be born about 1600 years after Jessica Keller dies. He and Suvi will have more adventures.)

I never expected her to be the narrator to history, but I also never expected to write so many stories set into the Alexandria Station universe. And there will be more. Gonna write more Javier this year. Gonna add her to a couple of other timelines for y’all to enjoy, sometime soon.

So I realize it’s a Monday, but y’all should do something special to celebrate your favorite AI. I’m going to raise a glass later, and I hope you will join me.

Happy birthday, Suvi

Just because the audio version is totally awesome, and some of you are starting to realize it. (And because it’s Melissa’s birthday today…)

Go get your audio version of Auberon. 5 stars in all categories from one of my fans. Have you heard Melissa? She’s doing Queen now, and eventually all of them. Tell her how awesome she is, so she has an even better birthday!!

YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Haven’t announced it all that broadly before now, but I have news. Weird news. Exciting and terrifying news.

As of late February, I am no longer employed by someone else. As in, I have gone full-time writer gig. It’s been about three weeks now, but the first one was at the Anthology Workshop, the next was helping Fabulous Publisher Babe(tm) get her house ready for sale, and only this week have I gotten steady enough to go do stuff.

Since 2/24, I have written just about 60,000 words, which is a nice upgrade from what I was maintaining before, when I also had full-time employment. Also taking on marketing and administrative tasks for the Babe, so she has more space to out-write me this year.

The next Jessica Keller book (#7, Lord of Winter) is coming along faster than planned, as a result. Just about 70,000 words right now, but my days are mixed for writing. Add a chapter or a section, then go work on short fiction or the role-playing game I am creating.

I am also spending a lot of time right now on the secret project y’all will hear about in June, when it goes live and I hope everyone likes it.

It’s just weird, for me.

I’ve been a responsible, corporate drone for more than twenty years now. (Before that, a college adjunct, political junkie, student, or bouncer in a cowboy bar outside a marine base, depending on when you want to look.) Not getting up (and at 4am for the last couple of years) and having to put on nice clothes is not something I remember how to do.

And the cat’s really freaked out to have me underfoot all day. To me, it’s kinda forever Saturday, but she keeps waiting for me to go back to work.

Good Lord willing, never, and that I will make enough money this year, and in subsequent years, that I can be forever Saturday. You guys will be happier, because I’ll be writing and publishing more. I’ll be able to go after some of the other projects that always had to take back seat, like my sewing. The farm will be in better shape (got paper to burn and a couple of downed trees/windsails to deal with over the next few weeks). Plant more.

Do more.

So that’s my news. My exciting weirdness that I hope means better things. We’ll see.

shade and sweet water

bd

West of the Mountains, WA