Lorna George's Blog, page 4

Coming August 2017: The Longest Drop, by L. Davidson

[image error]

Coming September 2017: The Longest Drop, by L. Davidson

[image error]

[You’re Safe With Me, I Promise]

I’m not careful.

I’ve dropped more things than I can count

I trip over at least once a day

I walk into things much bigger than me

Because I don’t pay attention.

 

But I pay attention when people talk

I notice quirks and mannerisms

I remember small details

And store them like secrets

Like precious treasures.

 

I’m accident-prone

My hands are covered in cuts

My legs are covered in bruises

And I barely notice

Because it’s normal now.

 

But I’m mindful of their personal space

I’m careful of their boundaries

I’ll swallow my words and my heart

To keep others comfortable

And put them at ease.

 

I fall out of chairs

I trip up staircases

I slip on wet floors

And I spill enough coffee each week

To fill an entire new cup.

 

I’m not careful

Not with myself, at least

But with other people?

My hands will always be steady

And my heart will always hold you safe.

[Still With Me]

She was like a mother to me, I say, and they do that sympathetic nod that feels like it means nothing. They tell me their grandmother was the same to them, and some part of me wants to shout NO! They don’t understand, and I don’t know how to tell them without dragging up the whole, awful mess of my childhood. It isn’t their fault, but the part of me that’s still grieving, the part that feels like it won’t ever stop, just wants everyone to know what she was to me.

I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. I’m lost in my life, and she was my compass. I don’t know where I am or where I should be going. I’m trying to find my way. I’m lost, and I’m lost at her loss.

I’m trying to remember every scrap of advice she ever gave me, searching for a way forward again. Scrape your nails down a bar of soap before you start gardening, so the dirt won’t get caught under them. Always salt the water before boiling pasta. Don’t go to sleep wearing makeup. Drink chamomile tea to help sooth period cramps, and peppermint tea for nausea.

I’m wracking my brain for anything, anything to help, but all it does is make me miss her more. People told me over and over to go to her grave and talk to her. I put it off for a long time, only going with other family members and standing in silence, giving tissues and hugs to whoever needed it, but feeling numb. Last time I went by myself, and I talked. I spoke out loud in the empty graveyard, and knew she wasn’t there. I was talking to thin air, and one ginger cat sat in the shrubbery.

Chicken is cooked when the juice runs clear. Invest in a good hand cream and use it regularly. White vinegar, lemon, and bicarbonate of soda will clean practically anything. Use a knife to cut flowers before you put them in a vase, because scissors will crush the stems and make it harder for them to take up water. Don’t hold a knife like that, you puggled child! You’ll cut your hand open!

I still have two boxes of kitchenware to unpack in my new flat. There’s no room for any of it, so when I need something I have to dig around in one of these boxes I could comfortably sit in. I needed a whisk today. I found one at the very bottom of the very bottom box, and under it I found her apron.

I’d forgotten I had it. It was folded so neatly, with care and reverence. I sat on the floor, and my hands trembled as I held them, the familiar and comforting smell of pastry, Nivea, and Chanel No. 5 filled me up with emotion until I couldn’t contain it, and it fell from my eyes and splashed onto my knees.

Wish on the first star you see each night. Every flower is a miracle, you know. Who cares if you look silly, as long as you’re having fun and not hurting anyone? Hurry and write more, I’m getting impatient! If you don’t blow your own trumpet, no one will do it for you. Don’t just march to the beat of your own drum, organise the whole parade! Don’t let people treat you like a doormat, they’ll never stop of their own accord. Find joy in the small things, because that’s where the real magic is.

It’s okay, my flower. You’re okay.

Still With Me

She was like a mother to me, I say, and they do that sympathetic nod that feels like it means nothing. They tell me their grandmother was the same to them, and some part of me wants to shout NO! They don’t understand, and I don’t know how to tell them without dragging up the whole, awful mess of my childhood. It isn’t their fault, but the part of me that’s still grieving, the part that feels like it won’t ever stop, just wants everyone to know what she was to me.

I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. I’m lost in my life, and she was my compass. I don’t know where I am or where I should be going. I’m trying to find my way. I’m lost, and I’m lost at her loss.

I’m trying to remember every scrap of advice she ever gave me, searching for a way forward again. Scrape your nails down a bar of soap before you start gardening, so the dirt won’t get caught under them. Always salt the water before boiling pasta. Don’t go to sleep wearing makeup. Drink chamomile tea to help sooth period cramps, and peppermint tea for nausea.

I’m wracking my brain for anything, anything to help, but all it does is make me miss her more. People told me over and over to go to her grave and talk to her. I put it off for a long time, only going with other family members and standing in silence, giving tissues and hugs to whoever needed it, but feeling numb. Last time I went by myself, and I talked. I spoke out loud in the empty graveyard, and knew she wasn’t there. I was talking to thin air, and one ginger cat sat in the shrubbery.

Chicken is cooked when the juice runs clear. Invest in a good hand cream and use it regularly. White vinegar, lemon, and bicarbonate of soda will clean practically anything. Use a knife to cut flowers before you put them in a vase, because scissor will crush the stems and make it harder for them to take up water. Don’t hold a knife like that, you puggled child! You’ll cut your hand open!

I still have two boxes of kitchenware to unpack in my new flat. There’s no room for any of it, so when I need something I have to dig around in one of these boxes I could comfortably sit in. I needed a whisk today. I found one at the very bottom of the very bottom box, and under it I found her apron.

I’d forgotten I had it. It was folded so neatly, with care and reverence. I sat on the floor, and my hands trembled as I held them, the familiar and comforting smell of pastry, Nivea, and Chanel No. 5 filled me up with emotion until I couldn’t contain it, and it fell from my eyes and splashed onto my knees.

Wish on the first star you see each night. Every flower is a miracle, you know. Who cares if you look silly, as long as you’re having fun and not hurting anyone? Hurry and write more, I’m getting impatient! If you don’t blow your own trumpet, no one will do it for you. Don’t just march to the beat of your own drum, organise the whole parade! Don’t let people treat you like a doormat, they’ll never stop of their own accord. Find joy in the small things, because that’s where the real magic is.

It’s okay, my flower. You’re okay.

How To Finish a Project

So yesterday I was talking to a friend about the difficulty of finishing artistic endeavours. We’ve all been there. That rush you get with a new idea, the excitement of starting a fresh, new project… then it becomes work and you lose the enthusiasm for it. Or worse. You start to worry that no one will like it, that you’re a hack, that it’s not as good as you first thought. For me, it’s often a combination of both, and honestly, I didn’t even realise that the latter was a thing until very recently.

I was lucky. I’m bloody pig-headed when I want to be, and I have a fairly good work ethic. I don’t do anything in life half-arsed, and although that doesn’t always serve me well, when it comes to writing I’m very grateful to that part of my mentality.

Finishing The Redwood Rebel was probably the best thing I’ve ever done with my life. Doesn’t matter how I feel about it now, or how anyone else feels about it, either. I set out to write a book, and I did it. Now I know I can, there’s nothing to stop me from finishing another, and another, and to keep finishing books for as long as I want to be doing it.

But what’s the trick to getting there? Well, as always with advice from yours truly, I can’t give you a magical answer that will fix everything, but I can tell you what worked for me.

 

-Make a to-do list. It might sound silly, or maybe even obvious, but having a physical list of what you need to get done can help really channel your productivity. I keep two, personally. I write a daily list of things I’d like to get done, and then I have a long-term list, currently titled “The Plan VII”. Remember that nothing in life is ever solid, that plans change and you should adapt with them, but always keep your main goals in focus. Doesn’t matter how you get there in the end, does it? To-do lists are a good way to keep your sights on that finish line. Plus it’s so rewarding when you can cross off a task you set yourself!

-Surround yourself with inspiration. Music, art, books, people… whatever it is that makes you want to work, keep it prominent in your sphere. I always have some kind of inspiring quote as the wallpaper of my computer and my phone, I have specific playlists for when I’m working, films I’ll watch if I’m having a block, and people I go to for motivation. All through the sixth draft of TRR I would write “Stay The Course” on the back of my hand before I sat down to write. I also have a small statue of Athena on my desk with an incredibly judgemental expression, which helps if I stare off into space for too long. Find what drives you, and keep it close.

-Routine! Can’t even stress this one enough. Getting into a routine of work is so incredibly helpful, I promise you. Now a lot of us (myself included) have other things going on around us that keep us from having a specific time we can sit down to work on our craft, so when I say “routine” I want you to know I don’t mean in the traditional sense. I have a preferred time and place to write, but The Real World™ doesn’t give a bag of crabsticks about this and will go along with or without me. Instead, I have a routine for myself before I sit down to work, whenever that happens. For me it’s usually a change of clothes, washing my face, making a drink, putting on music, opening my files, scrolling through social media for half an hour (it’s an important part of the process, okay), then it’s writing o’clock. It works for me, but find what works for you, and stick to it.

-Set aside a work space. My productivity increased a huge amount once I got a proper desk, as opposed to just lolloping about wherever. Like the routine thing, it clicks your mind into the right gear to get your nose to the grindstone. I’m working with very limited space these days, but I do the best I can with what I have. Sometimes it doesn’t work, so I get up and go to find somewhere quiet to work, and that helps, too. I feel like physically going somewhere with the express intention to write makes me actually knuckle down and do it once I get there. Even if the only real reason is because it takes me a solid forty-five minutes to walk anywhere interesting from where I live!

-Remember why you’re doing this. Do you know why you’re doing this? I bet you do, even if you’ve never really vocalised it. It could be any reason at all; I shan’t speculate. We all have our reasons and it can be vastly different from person to person. Whatever your reason is, though, hold it close with both hands. Keep it front and centre at all times, on the good days, and on the bad days, too. Be kind to yourself, and remember that no one can be always working -nor should they- but keep that reason for working in the first place like a little beacon in your mind. Don’t give up. Please, don’t ever give up. It’s hard to follow your dreams, but it’s the best way any of us can spend our lives. Trust in yourself, trust in your projects, and if you can’t do that, trust in me when I say that I believe in you, and I know that you can do this. You just have to keep trying.

Updates and Gratitude

So I finally have a couple of days away from The Day Job, and I can get some real work done! Yay!

I’m slowly working my way through editing The Royal Sentinel chapter by chapter, (the prologue and chapter one can be read on Wattpad, and chapter two will be up on Friday!) but I’m a fair way ahead of myself and I have time, so I might only do a wee bit of that today.

Thank you so, so much to everyone who has helped get the word out about it, and The Redwood Rebel, too! It’s been a huge gamble for me to put it out for free, if only because that’s a solid six years of work for me sitting there, you know? Every single vote, comment, and share means the whole world to me, and will make a massive difference to my writing resume when I’m ready to submit other work to publication. I really do appreciate it so much!

Speaking of “other work”, that’s mostly what today is going to be for, and most of tomorrow, too! Down From The Tower is going very slowly, but it is going, and that’s what counts. I feel like I’m in a good place right now, and it’s not a particularly big project, but I would really like to pick up the pace.

I have been thinking about jumping in with Camp NaNoWriMo next month, but the pressure of word-counting doesn’t always go well for me. Plus it’s my birthday smack in the middle, and I have stock take at work the week after (Uuuuurgh….) but then again, the great thing about Camp is that I can set a lower goal than standard NaNoWriMo, soooo…?

I dunno. I’ll give it some thought. I do really need to find a way to kick myself up the arse and get working again. Once the first draft of DFTT is done, I’ll get on the first draft of The Redwood War book three, so I do really need to get a shufty on.

In the meantime (sorry to bang on) if you haven’t already, please consider voting for The Redwood Rebel and The Royal Sentinel on Wattpad? Even if you’ve already read book one before now, just please take a few minutes to scroll through the chapters and click the vote button! It’s not like AO3 where you can only leave one kudos per story, you can vote for every single chapter. Comments are great, too, but I understand that you may not have the time or the inclination. Voting is super quick and easy, though, and it makes a massive difference and boosts the story up the recommended reading list, thus making it more likely for new readers to find it!

Many thanks!

The Royal Sentinel: Prologue

[image error]

‘Fifteen is my final offer.’

Naomi looked at the street vendor, keeping her face carefully neutral as they tried to stare each other down. She hadn’t missed the way his eyes had lit up when she had first put her bow and quiver down on his counter with the intention to sell, and she wasn’t about to let it go for fifteen, either.

Her ship had docked in Asuya after the long voyage across from Ffion, and she needed money to support herself for a few days. The bow and arrows were the least likely of her possessions she would need again, and she had already traded the few sets of clothes she’d had for warmer Tsumetese clothing. Thankfully, despite one of the last surviving members of Ffion’s royal family, the Redwoods, Naomi knew how to barter.

‘The bow alone is worth twenty,’ she said flatly. ‘I’ll take thirty for the lot, or nothing.’

‘Thirty?’ the vendor scoffed, throwing his hands up in a dramatic fashion that almost made her smile. ‘Are you trying to rob me? Twenty-five, and that’s final.’

‘Done,’ she held her hand out to shake, and the bargain was struck. Twenty-five was fair, and it would cover her expenses for a few days. Granted, it would be one of the less reputable inns, but she had slept rougher in her time.

‘You selling anything else?’ the vendor asked, and she looked sharply back at him, unsure of his implication. When she saw he was giving the beautiful sword at her hip the eye, Naomi relaxed again.

‘The sword isn’t for sale.’ she told him firmly, tucking the small pouch of coin into the breast of her warm wrap-over top.

As she did so, her fingers brushed against the dagger secreted out of sight there, and she hesitated. It wasn’t hers, not really. She had borrowed it months ago in the forests of Ffion from King Arun, to bleed poison from a dart wound she’d taken protecting him and had never really gotten around to returning it. Just thinking about their parting of ways made her blood boil.

It was her hope she would never see the cussing man again as long as she lived, and so returning it was unlikely, but somehow she felt wrong selling it. In the privacy of her own mind, she dryly observed that any man who could be so horribly possessive over another person was likely ten times worse for inanimate objects. For a brief moment she wondered how he was doing, if he had made a full recovery after their brutal battle with the reanimated corpse of the harpy, Genevieve…

The smallest brush of something in the back of her mind, not even a whisper of movement, made her start so violently that the street vendor jumped as well. Naomi might have been annoyed with herself at the slip, had she not been so disturbed by the sensation. It had been so light, she almost wondered if she had imagined it, but clutched the woven charm that hung about her neck tightly, searching for any indication that her shields had been broken.

She found nothing. Relieved beyond measure, Naomi sighed heavily and glanced at the vendor, now watching her warily.

‘Pleasure doing business with you,’ she nodded to him, and walked away to find lodging for the night.

Read More on Wattpad

Update: The Redwood War

There are different kinds of currency in the world, and as much as I’d love to have some of the traditional stuff, after much thought, I’ve decided I’m going to place value elsewhere and not go with the Patreon idea.

Now I know that there’s a culture amongst writers and artists where what I’m about to do is seen as a sort of betrayal. I know that we should be paid for our work, and that we should insist on it and stick together, but I feel like the circumstances I’m in give me a bit of leeway.

The Redwood Rebel did not sell.

I worked on it for three years, paid for it to be professionally edited and given beautiful cover art. I ran promotions and competitions and did interviews on other author’s websites, I did monthly adverts on Facebook and Goodreads. I networked until I was blue in the face. I promoted the heck out of it, or as best I could as a self-published author, and the only time I ever saw any traction? When I ran free kindle copy weekends.

Now I’m not saying that people didn’t enjoy it when they read it. I’ve had some bad reviews, and I’d be lying if I said they didn’t still sting a bit, but I know the majority of readers liked it. I get asked about the sequel much more frequently than I get hate mail, and that means the world to me, honestly.

What I am saying, however, is that I can’t afford to do all that again. I’m not exaggerating when I say I lost a lot of my own money publishing book one, and I genuinely can’t do that again. It’s unfortunate, but that’s just the reality of the situation.

That said, I do understand that a monthly subscription for The Royal Sentinel isn’t feasible for most people, and that at least a third of responses I had to the idea felt that I was being unfair. I would never want that, not for anything in the world. I may not be a successful author in traditional terms, but as far as supportive and dedicated readers go? Well. I am incredibly proud and happy.

The currency I choose is your good faith and enjoyment in my work. That’s why I’ve decided to post The Redwood War series to Wattpad as free content. As of right now I’m uploading a chapter a day of The Redwood Rebel, in an attempt to get some interest from possible new readers, and when that’s done I’ll start to share chapters of The Royal Sentinel, either weekly or fortnightly.

All I’d request in exchange is that you take the time to like and comment, and to share it about to anyone you think might be interested, so that when I finally write something I feel is worth another attempt at traditional publishing, I can confidently add to my resume: “I am the author of a fairly well-received web series”.

Thank you.

Patreon?

I’ve been trying to think of what to do with The Redwood War series. I want to finish it, but mostly because I’m pig-headed about not leaving things half done.

So here’s the question: If I set up a Patreon account, how many of you would be up for supporting my work?

Right now I’m thinking I could give book one as a free epub file for signing up, then update the next three books a chapter at a time -possibly monthly or fortnightly, I haven’t decided- and as each book ends, send them out as a completed epub file.

I’d like to just post it for free, but honestly? I’m broke ^^” I’m just not in a position to work for free right now, as much as I wish I could. Book 1 cost me a heck of a lot to self-publish, and I was in a much better financial situation then than I am right now.

I hope that sounds fair, but I’d really like to hear what you guys think?