Kyle Michel Sullivan's Blog: https://www.myirishnovel.com/, page 77

Started in...

Going through APoS for the umpteenth time with a red pen to cut back on the non-stop chatter and finding it's harder than I thought it'd be. I've gone through the opening and first chapter, setting up the time, situation, and Brendan's family...but he insists on still meandering about somewhat in his memories. Guess the structure is going to remain a linear/non-linear style, as if he is telling it to someone, verbally, and thinking of moments to add as he goes along.

I have removed a fair amount of repetition and him being too aware of what people really are like. I'm still having a tug of war over the idea that Brendan's Da never told his kids the stories he tells in the pubs while caging drinks off the patrons. That doesn't really make sense but at the same time it almost does, if he only wants to use those stories and songs he sings in order to get drunk.

I still haven't worked out why he's a brute of an alcoholic. I know it can be part of a person's DNA, to have an addictive personality, but I keep getting the feeling he wants to have a reason and to be understood. I have notes about him killing a priest who molested him as a child in an orphanage...but that's simplistic and too on the nose.

It also has to work in with why Ma is so tight and protective of him, even though he's beaten her. That can't be simply battered woman syndrome or a masochistic need to be punished. Those are too easy and don't explain her obvious love for him. Brendan catches on that it's a form of sickness between the two, sort of a can't-live-with-'em-can't-live-without-'em connection. But she also works at elevating her dead husband to a martyr's level, and that denotes something more deeply entrenched in her about him.

Love is not always merely love.

Back to life...

Taking time away from writing proved rewarding, in many ways. And irritating in others. I was able to separate myself from a need to produce something now, now, now and the guilt that accompanied not being able to because it became so overwhelming a need...I was achieving nothing but chaos and confusion. So for the last week I've been hearing suggestions about A Place of Safety that lead it back to being a story about a boy caught in an impossible time, and keep it away from any overripe melodrama.

Brendan's not a typical Derry boy. He doesn't play marbles or run around with other boys or even really pay attention to the children in his neighborhood. He likes tinkering with things. Fixing them. Gets satisfaction from that and thinks other activities aren't worth his interest. He's got a focus that is almost scary, and is only occasionally broken when something truly important cuts into it...or he's forced to step out of it.

His younger brother Rhuari has some of that in him, too, but his deals with reading and finally learning Gaelic. He also just does things to get along, without hassle, while Brendan can get taken up in stubbornness. The kind that settles into, I want to do this or that and see no reason not to, so I will. Which is what usually gets him into serious trouble with his mother.

That's part of the reason he gets so focused on Joanna. He senses in her a person who will pay him real attention, accept him as he is and not just be an annoyance. She jolts him out of his little bubble so that when they finally do connect, face to face, he locks in on her to the point of where he begins making decisions about himself based on what she might or might not do...which leads to disaster.

I'm printing up a copy of the last draft of Derry to go through and make notes in a red pen. Hard not to see those as you input changes. I'm going to pull back as much as I can from the bluster and sweep and historical aspect of the story...something I was getting to caught up in, myself...and try to make it a simple tale about a young man who just wants to live his life.

Which is all Brendan ever wanted.

Taking a break...again...

I'm taking a break from writing, completely, totally and absolutely. I can't even get up the enthusiasm to write a gay sex scene, let alone a story about a kid just trying to live his life. I'm not returning till June 1st. Just gonna read, till then.

Finally...

Okay, The Lyons' Den is done, in paperback, and should soon be available through Amazon, B&N and BAM! The second proof came via a link in an email, today, and everything looked great in the text but the cover was still problematic. I'd look at where their crop marks were on the pdf of the full cover and it should have been fine, but looking at their sample of how the front cover would crop showed they were trimming it more narrowly than I'd thought.
I expanded the image to where it almost bleeds off the edges, and i will never do this semi-bleed, again. That was better, so I uploaded it, again. And when it came back in proof (very quickly, I might add) that took care of the issue. Of course, I'd also used the redo to neaten up the front guy's tit and remove some awkward pasting I'd done at his shoulder and his waist, since it had become more obvious, so I'm happy.
Next on the agenda is finding out more about how Ingram handles their ebooks. I set it up with them for that, as well, while still keeping the Smashwords ebook. Might be a bit of overkill, but we'll see.
Shifting Carli's Kills to KDP has done nothing for it and is, in fact, hurting sales. I may shift it back to Ingram. It's already set up, I think, so all I may need to do is give them the okay.
I've settled on The Prussian as the subheading for this section of Blood Angel, and right now it's up to over 13,400 words.

Oops...

I finally got a proof for the paperback version of The Lyons' Den...and promptly found some issues. The cover had a couple of black spots in the corners and along the bottom edge. The trim was being cut farther out than I expected, so I had to fix that.
I also noticed I'd started to put the photographer's name on the copyright page and stopped. Not cool. I mean, it's on the cover but I like to do it there, too, but not completing it looked inconsistent, because I've done it on my other books.
Last of all, the odd numbers weren't centered at the bottom of their pages. But even after knowing about it, the numbers on the Word doc looked fine. Same for the PDF. It took me a few minutes to figure out the margin was wrong on the odd pages in the footer, only. By two spaces. Easy to fix, but irritating that I didn't see it earlier.
So I uploaded everything, again, and am going through the queue to get a new proof. Hopefully, this one will be in good shape. Never had these issues, before. However, now the paperback won't be out till near Memorial Day.
Today was spent at the office, dealing with prepping export licenses. I also booked another job in Connecticut, immediately after the one in Tampa, so changed my flight and arrangements. Going Buffalo to Tampa to Hartford back to Buffalo. Bing, bang, boom. Gonna be rough but I'll be happy to get the money. It's obvious I won't win the lottery anytime soon.
Yesterday, I wrote a 2000 word section where Leonides catches a deserter who's killed an old man. He's stealing the dead man's clothes. Léon grabs him, washes him in a nearby river then rapes him and feeds on him, to the death. It's going at the beginning, which establishes just how brutal Léon can be, and I think will add tension to the whole interaction between Léon and Franz. I'm keeping in mind my lead character is a bloodsucker as well as a father fucker.
Just doing what I can to keep the balance.

Settled...

I'm working on Blood Angel with the subheading Franz, where Léonidès seduces the young nobleman into his lifestyle...well, death-style. What Léon doesn't understand is, once Franz joins him as a vampire, all hypocrisy about himself is stripped away. Franz had superb manners and can still affect them, but they hid his quiet cruelty and selfishness, and that all comes to the fore. While he is subordinate to Léon, he cannot be controlled, and his turning causes a lot of trouble. My guess is it will wind up between 22,000 and 25,000 words for this part.

The second part with be 1871, where Léon, now caught in buyer's remorse, seeks out Gabrielle to see if she's willing to swap her subordinate BA with his. She made her mistake with Dmitriy, in Moscow sixty years earlier. She was attracted to him and turned him only to find out he was in the closet. She keeps him around to torment for fooling her.

Léon doesn't trust his sister to honor the swap, but she is stronger than he and far more cruel, so she might be able to tame Franz. It would also help make the Oyim, the vampire world's overlords, a bit happier. They had put out an edict, thanks to Gabrielle's mistake with Dmitriy, that no BA may be turned without their approval. Léon violated that and is in deep shit over it.

But it's kind of understandable, on his part. Léon seeing Franz being tender with his horse when it's been wounded would confuse anyone into thinking he was a nice person. And he was seriously wounded. But caring for an animal is no real indication for how they view other humans. I've known a few who've hated people and saved all their concern for dogs, cats, horses, you name it. The way the world's been going, I'm beginning to think that's the best way to be.

Weak...dammit...

I got talked into making a trip to Tampa, Florida. I tried to get out of it, but it's for a good client and some stuff needs packing and it's on the fragile side and they're fine works...and I caved. I don't really want to go to Florida, at all, but I'm only staying the one night so I guess I can handle it. And the deal is the people who are donating the archive are leaving the state, so I can show support for that. Guess we'll see how it goes.

I'm definitely going to work Blood Angel 1871/Franz to post on Smashwords, maybe in the next month or two...once I work out what the sub-title will be. I was drifting around too much and unsure and just had to give myself a solid jolt, and reading through this thing, again, jolted my prurient mindset, good.
I'd forgotten some of what I'd written in this little beast. A few pretty rough details...like Léonidès killing three American soldiers in Korea because they'd raped and murdered a Korean girl, but kept the fourth one alive to have fun with. And the casual way he and his minions discussed buying a chateau near where battles will take place (between the German and French armies) because it will mean good feeding, and maybe they'll make sure the place has a dungeon to hold some for a later meal.
Of course, I shouldn't be shocked at myself; it brightened my nights. Oh, do I ever have a streak of black in my heart.

Segue...

Looked over what I'd written for some of Blood Angel's parts -- Franz, 1871 and WW2 -- to jolt myself out of this fucked up malaise I have. Since I'm doing that book in sections (@ $0.99 each) I could polish the Franz/1871 part up and post it on Smashwords. Just to break through my logjam.

Franz and 1871 are set during the Franco-Prussian war of that period, where Léonidès senses and locates another Blood Angel, like him -- Franz. He's been wounded during one of the cavalry battles but is more concerned with tending to his horse, which is also hurt. This gives him the appearance of being a decent person.

Feeling lonely, Léon decides to turn him, even though he's not sure of what the guy is all about. That's despite a directive from the Oyim, who rule over the vampire world, that permission must first be sought and granted. But as a fellow BA, Franz would be more of a companion than the rest of Léon's troupe, who are mere vampires.

Only things don't turn out the way he wanted. Turns out Franz is a heterosexual asshole but with courtly manners, so Léon seeks out his sister, Gabrielle (who's also BA). He thinks the two of them would be perfect for each other and offers to swap the guy for Dmitriy, the Russian BA she turned who wound up actually being gay. She's intrigued, but wants a trial run. Now Léon is afraid she'll keep them both.

This part of the story ranges from Metz, France to London to Korea to Hong Kong at a time when travel took a while. I've got just under 30,000 words written on it, with maybe 10,000 more to go. WW2 would need a lot more work, so 1871 might be worth completing...especially wince it's got some serious sex scenes in it.

Lord knows I love those.

Really fucking lazy...

Right now, I honestly am really fucking lazy. I don't want to do jack shit except watch Chris Evans be all Chris Evans and dream about burying myself in his crotch. Rude, crude and not the least bit misconstrued. I'm in that kind of mood. I'm in stasis mode. Dunno why. Dunno when it'll end. Just know it is what it is...and I fucking hate that fucking phrase.
I'm incomplete, right now. APoS is sitting there. Ingram is taking its time prepping LD's paperback. I'm eating too fucking much and feeling it in my cheeks. I don't want to leave my apartment. I'm probably going to order the entire Captain America series on DVD just to watch Chris be Chris. And it doesn't matter how deep my debt is because it isn't real money. An interest rate of nearly 20% per annum isn't real. Nothing is fucking real.
Except I'm old, fat, diabetic and tired, and close to not giving a shit, anymore. May even kill my Twitter account and Tribel and Instagram because I'm fucking sick and tired of the fucking idiots in the world.
Needless to add, I'm not in a happy place, at the moment.

Snap, snarl, yap, yrrr...

In one of my dissatisfied moods, today, to where I can't seem to get anything done. Actually started yesterday, when family crap and work stuff piled on at the same time. I felt more than a little overwhelmed, and then got dragged into work today and Monday to handle shit that I thought had been handled, already.
So last night I ate too damn much and felt like a bloated pig, then today after I finished at the office I couldn't figure out what to do with myself so drove in a circle through parts of Buffalo I'd never been to before until I could focus and move along. I'm still unfocused but not as badly.
At the office, it was checking paperwork from dealers, for Firsts London Book Fair, and then beginning the process of applying for export licenses for the ones that will need it...before learning one dealer who'd taken me three hours to get into order for the application would have more books to add to it, next week. And he has to have a license because he already has 25 books going to the fair that are way over the threshold for books in the UK -- over 50 years of age and valued at above 65,000GBP. Hell, one's worth over 1,955,900GBP.
So I crashed into a mood where nothing could make me happy. Wandered around a grocery store to get milk and wound up with more crap than I needed. Made a turkey club sandwich on toast with tomato, cucumber, cheese, avocado and mayo, and it was okay but not perfect. Now I'm at the laptop just fucking around.
Don't ever suggest I'm a stable genius, unless shifting sand is considered steady.