Daley Downing's Blog, page 4

It’s Official: I’m a Scaredy Cat (Meooooow!)

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Spooky season is again upon us, and every year I attempt to convince myself I really am not that easily terrified. The truth is, I’m not a fan of horror, never have been; yet for some reason, for years I’ve been friends with people who are. Whether it’s a fear of missing out, or just wanting to be in on the conversation, I keep trying to make it through the latest horror movie or series or book that a lot of folks I know are talking about. And almost every single time (with a few lucky exceptions), I crash and burn in the endeavor.

Unfortunately, 2023’s attempt involved a lot of flames and falling apart.

I started with a preorder of Whisperwood by Alex Woodroe, which came out this summer (though I didn’t read it until last month). The excellent news on this one is that I was able to enter a giveaway for an original art print based on something in the story, and I won, and it is glorious. See!

Anyway, I swear I will proceed with no spoilers for any of these books, but also be very aware: If you don’t like horror, these titles realistically shall not be your cup of tea. I also won’t provide any of the literally gory details (though that part will absolutely help explain the metaphorical explosions and over-hard landings).

So, Whisperwood caught my attention because it’s set in Romania and includes creatures from Romanian folklore, and mythology is a subject I’ve always had interest in. Either I didn’t tune in enough, or the marketing folks deserve the understatement of the year award, but I truly didn’t realize just how quickly this tale would switch from intrigue and suspense and legends to Holy cheese and crackers, there are literal human body parts flying!

And with this sudden shift — and the rest of the book rocking back and forth between a background sense of something dangerous or unexplained about to happen, and then catapulting into very gruesome scenes — I began to understand the real reason I stay away from horror. I can handle the idea of monsters attacking and being frightening-looking — because I have a difficult time picturing the details of written things (even well described written things) in my mind’s eye. But, because I have sensory dysphoria, the idea of pain and fear and suffering and anatomically correct body deconstructions are the parts of horror that just completely freak me out. Where my brain falls behind in the visuals, it goes into overdrive on the tactile sensations (even fictional ones).

So, this meant that, although Whisperwood was interesting and not objectively “bad,” I knew it was definitely not my thing.

Therefore, what did I do next? Well, I dove into The Woodkin by Alexander James, a book with a cover so disturbing I actually had to fold a piece of paper over it (sorry!) and leave facedown on my desk when I wasn’t reading, a tale of hikers disappearing under mysterious circumstances and something quite eerie in the forest. Yup, perfect choice.

Now, earlier this year I tried to read Wild by Cheryl Strayed, and was intensely disappointed by the incredibly unrealistic portrayal of hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. I will totally give The Woodkin the praise it deserves for a realistic portrayal of hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. Okay, yes, except for the people going missing because of the weird thing in the woods. At least I felt much more satisfied after reading the beginning, compared to how many times I rolled my eyes with Wild.

Anyway, maybe I was already feeling gun-shy, but I’ll come clean — at the first sign of something very nasty (and entirely traditional horror fodder) taking place, I skipped to the end of The Woodkin and found out whether the characters I cared about made it out or not. Again, no spoilers; but I was, unfortunately, so unsettled by what I suspected happened in those intervening pages that I didn’t even breathe a sigh of relief.

My next selection really threw me in the deep end, and, again, this could have been my fault, for not paying enough attention to the promotional material; but the anthology Things Magical Under the Moon by Alexis Carroll and Amanda Stoctkon is a great deal darker than I was prepared for. And I do want to stress, both these authors are very talented and certainly spin intriguing yarns; their choice of content and/or approach just does not jive for me.

All of these books, by the way, I gifted to my local Little Free Library, since taste is subjective and I’m sure what doesn’t work for me will totally scratch the right itch for somebody else.

My last disappointment (and, I feel, the end of this experiment) came with Girl of Nightmares, the sequel to Anna Dressed in Blood, which I really enjoyed a few months ago. Yes, the plot for Girl of Nightmares is very different from the original, and there are new characters and some more tropes, but while the premise and feel was a shift, most of the style and relatability I liked in Anna was present here. What gave me quite an unpleasant jolt was the downright macabre twist the sequel took at about the 70% mark; considering the precedents set by the original — which did have a few moments that made me squirm — the fact I found this much worse really says something about my thresholds. I don’t even know how this follow-up ended, because I stopped about 40 pages from the conclusion.

I cleansed my palate by reading an Adventure Time comic to Muffin.

And now I feel the scientific evidence is overwhelming, and the confirmation can be made: I am a scaredy-cat. It appears anything above PG-13 will give me all the bad vibes, and continuing to pretend that I can weather this is not advised.

So, I will have to just deal with “missing out,” and the fact there will be cultural references floating around me that I simply won’t get.

At least my skin will lie flat on my body, and my nerves will remain smooth.

Sorry, not sorry, horror fans. It quite literally isn’t you; it is most definitely me.

There’s a Reason it’s Called a Learning Disability

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A few weeks ago, something happened that really upset me, and it’s been bugging me ever since. I was at a book club meeting, and when it came to my turn to discuss what I’d read for the theme that month, there was this person, sitting across the table, who kept looking confused as I explained the story. I honestly wasn’t sure why, but when I finished, they asked me, “What made you decide to read this book?” I answered that I’d already seen the movie version, and wanted to revisit the tale, and knew it fit into the theme. And they said, “No, I mean why the graphic novel version instead of the original book?”, and it was all I could do to stop my jaw from dropping.

I managed to get out something about how I’d already read the original (actually, I haven’t), but couldn’t remember the author (in fact another lie), and how I stumbled on the graphic version (true), and knew it would be a quicker read (also true) during a busy week. But the real reason I chose to read the graphic novel rather than the text is because it’s easier for me. But I didn’t feel this person would understand that one bit, so I didn’t even go there.

When I was done answering their extremely judgmental question, they had the audacity to fake smile and say, “Thank you for sharing.” No, I’m not kidding. “Thank you for sharing.” What you say to a child who doesn’t like to speak in front of the whole class. Good Lord.

My whole life, I’ve struggled with understanding certain parts of linguistics, literature, and mathematics; I have dyslexia, and that simply means my brain doesn’t recognize or comprehend certain patterns or constructs. It means that the number is 7491, but I may see 4719; that the correct word is affect, not effect, but I will always accidentally pick the wrong one. It translates to it’s a miracle I was able to graduate college; there are some jobs I don’t even bother applying for; I have to have an editor to catch the typos in my own books; and I am not suited to some types of entertainment.

Reading subtitles in especially foreign films is so difficult, I don’t do it unless there are absolutely no dubbed versions available and I really, really want to see that movie. It’s why a lot of anime remains out of my reach. Similarly, I can’t read manga, because of its reverse (to Western reading) style. Digital manuscripts can be tricky. I like audiobooks, but I have to have complete silence around me to listen, because I’m devoting extra brain power to mentally picturing all the words I cannot see.

I’ve stopped torturing myself with mainstream adult books reaching 450 pages, where I couldn’t really connect with the characters because I couldn’t grasp their situations or motivations — due to the setting descriptions using too many words I couldn’t easily sound out, and the character arcs being cloaked in metaphors too abstract for my mind to pick apart and put back together. I’ve given up on classics entirely. I’m no longer ashamed of the fact that if I want to follow what’s happening in a period drama, I will need to watch the film version.

I’m also becoming very interested in graphic novels, because they include that visual aspect that helps me so much when it comes to really having a concrete image of settings and characters, architecture and fashion, and all the world building that makes a connection between the story and the audience or reader.

And I should not have to apologize for using this method, to be kind to my brain, and ensure enjoyment of a hobby I’m invested in and would like to keep doing.

The idea that an adult choosing to read a graphic novel adaptation of a MG chapter book somehow makes this adult less mature INFURIATES me.

The implication that my choice isn’t considered valid — by someone who doesn’t know me at all and could be making big decisions on how they feel about me without having any background on the matter — is greatly upsetting.

And what’s even worse, this is far from the first time I’ve experienced such things.

People have asked why I write fantasy. Or, why I don’t write epic fantasy. Or, why I do a bunch of research into real events and places just to fictionalize them.

The surface (still valid) reason is: I like fantasy. It’s fun. Reading it, and writing it. Dragons are cool. Real life is boring, and scary. Hoping magic might exist and make things better gives me an escape, and something bigger than myself and my problems to focus on.

The deeper (totally valid as hell) reason is: I have a learning disability. I don’t physically possess the energy to study or create or polish something at length without constant distractions, interruptions, or forgetting bits — possibly even the entire point of the story. It takes me a LONG time (occasionally 3-4 years) to finish a tale that’s coherent and cohesive and readable by other people. I should be PROUD that I accomplish this feat at all. Screw what genre somebody else wants it to be in.

Being a published author isn’t easy, anyway — low sales and lack of marketing options and dealing with unfair criticism comes with the territory. When I already have a lot of obstacles in my path, I do NOT need this kind of subtle backlash on top of everything else.

It makes me mad. It hurts. It does make me question how mature I am, and if my choices are the right ones. It SUCKS.

This has already been a tough month because I’ve had to cope with the loss of income and the adjustments to my schedule by being forced out of one job and trying to secure another. My confidence has been shot in a lot of areas, and I know this incident has weighed on me, despite my trying to brush it off.

I can’t help that I’m disabled. I do try to carry on, with a positive outlook, in spite of the challenges I face on a regular basis. But sometimes a comment or an interaction will just hit in completely the wrong way — and this was one of those moments.

Writing News!: Some Announcements, A Bit of Discussion, and One or Two Carefully Placed Primal Screams

Hello there! So, it took quite a lot of doing, but some author stuff has finally been accomplished, and now I have tangible details to share!

First: A few months ago, I started looking into alternatives to Amazon when it came to ebook distribution. The corporate giant has long forgotten its origins as one of the grassroots building blocks for the indie publishing field, and doing business with them as a self-pubbed author these days is literal hell. And since I no longer work in the local library system, I need sales and royalties and actual promotion for my bibliography. Luckily, I came across some real possibilities for not-Amazon; and finished paperwork and file transfers later, I can announce that my work will very soon be available on the digital bookstore, NE1 World!

Everyone there has been so welcoming, and I joined in their live anniversary con on YouTube last week to introduce myself and share a little about my series. The feeling of getting involved in a group that supports authors of all sorts of genres and styles is so rewarding. For any of you who have read my writing, you’ll know that I don’t stick to tropes, that I combine genres, that I like to shake up the norms (no love triangles or 40-page chapters here!), and that means finding a distributor who accepts all of that and figures out a way to market my work as it is has been tricky. So — as nervewracking as my first live appearance online was! — I’m excited for the chance to go in this direction.

Second: Editing on Volume 4 is almost complete! I fully intend to release a paperback, but I’m thinking that I might go with digital release first (now that I have the groundwork laid for easily-submitted ebooks!). Between needing to get ready for the start of the new school year and returning to the dance studio, I simply may not have the bandwidth to deal with all the formatting and configuring right away. I’ll be sure to keep everyone informed of the next steps as they’re taken!

Third: This will be a primal scream moment. Now that I do have an alternative in place to the ‘Zon, it is very important to not lose sight of the reasons why finding said alt was so necessary. I first uploaded my back-catalogue onto the website, for public sale, in mid-2021; in 2 years, I have yet to receive a single royalty payment, though the company’s own records show that in some months, I did earn “enough,” according to their own rules. What knocked me way down was their former policy on ebook returns — which removed a royalty credit from the author’s account if their ebook title was returned. In less than a 60-day period, I lost over $40 that I’d acquired in Kindle sales because of this, and have yet to get even close to reclaiming it. And because of “printing costs increasing” earlier this year and making authors set our prices higher, paperback sales are in a massive slump. While I, as a reader on a shoestring budget, understand that, as a financially-strapped writer, I’m also pretty upset about it.

So, although I’m going to leave my catalog on Amazon, I’m not going to add to it. This company has done absolutely nothing to make me feel valued as a creative or as a person with real world concerns, and while I will continue to remind folks my work exists there — so that hopefully one day I finally cross the mythological threshold of “earned enough” and actually get some royalties from these *insert bad words here* — I’ve decided striking out on new paths is the way forward.

Fourth (and last for now): The recent upheaval over at Twitter has also taken its toll on my marketing abilities. Since my account is not “premium” there, I am on the lowest rungs of the algorithm’s ladder, and my community engagement has dropped dramatically in the last several months. I still post there — aherm, TWEET — and am doing my best at yelling into the void and hoping my voice lands on at least some of my tribe. But, because I like having a safety net for all sorts of situations, I have created an account with Blue Sky social media, and hope to cultivate a presence there as well (just in case). My handle at Blue Sky is also invisiblemoth1, for anyone who’s headed there and would like to drop in on me!

All right, that brings you pretty well up to speed! Have a great week, everyone!

One Moth’s Takes on the AI Debate

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Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past decade, you’ll be aware that technology took a massive leap forward in the last few years, and many advances in robotics and programming that seemed impossible — just the stuff of science fiction — are now in fact taking shape in our everyday lives. This includes using artificial intelligence for all sorts of tasks, mundane and specialized, and a lot of people have very divided opinions about this.

I’ve been turning the various points over in my mind a lot. As a creative myself, I’d be foolish not to pay attention to the recent discussions on whether AI programs are actually stealing existing content from artists, on the copyright infringement issues, and the concern that AI might possibly replace humans in this field one day.

I support the necessary conversations being had, in all sorts of fields, about where we draw the line, what’s considered unethical, when we’re putting profit above morals, and what the cost could be.

On the one hand, as someone who’s disabled and chronically ill, the idea of technology that actually helps us in our day to day lives finally becoming accessible to more than just the extremely wealthy is quite appealing.

On the other, I’m rather skeptical about the entire concept.

Mostly because we already have a big dose of AI in our daily lives, and it’s often far from helpful.

If anybody’s been on hold with the customer service department of any major company lately, it’s pretty clear that the bots instructing us to select this or that option have no real interest in finding an answer to our question.

When a pre-programmed machine malfunctions and can’t print our receipt, deactivate the lock, update our account settings, gives us an inaccurate translation, or doesn’t transfer our important voicemail to the correct extension, this makes life so much harder.

The question of whether humans may come to rely on technology too much is a moot point in 2023. We’ve been there for a while now.

The notions we need to be pondering for 2024 and beyond are if we’re expecting technology to take over, rather than assist with our mundane tasks, and how much we should trust it to do so.

When it comes specifically to art, some of the most emotionally-impacting movies and music of the past 60 years have been produced with the assistance of the latest technology of the time. All the humans involved were given their proper credit for the work they did. The tech was seen as a tool, not as the thing that was expected to do the heavy lifting.

This is where I believe practices and viewpoints are changing. Professional artists of all disciplines are expressing the concern that they’re valued much less than the machines (who don’t ask for a living wage). Complaints about unfair treatment by the big bosses of the industry are exploding. If these concerns are ignored now, it will mean a crap-ton of problems later.

We’re on the verge of another massive shift in the culture, and some people are hoping that AI can play a big role in adjusting inequality and increasing opportunities and quality of life in so many ways. I’d like to be an optimist about the possibilities. But to do so, I need to be a realist on the potential negatives.

Right now, there is no easy answer. The misuse of AI to increase the spread of things that aren’t true has already had a very bad affect on society. People are legitimately worried about self-driving vehicles failing, or medical robots malfunctioning. This entire experiment still has a lot of bugs to fix.

I don’t have any words of wisdom to offer on how we correct without growing pains; those are inevitable, I feel.

Maybe the best thing we humans can do in the midst of learning to live with AI is to support each other.

As It Was

Over time, things change, whether we’re ready for it, whether we push for it, or it catches us unawares. How we deal with change helps shape what we get out of the experience. And in the end, what we feel we learned comes a whole lot from our mindset going in.

I’m coming to the close of a year of legal battles, forced changes in employment, chosen alternatives in my lifestyle, and a great deal of moving forward after feeling incredibly stuck for way too long. My children have found themselves again, or are finding who they are; I feel like I know who I am, for the first time in a while, and I like who that is. As difficult as parts of this time have been, I feel much more equipped to handle life, even with all its challenges, than I did even 14 months ago.

While many things in my life are at present up in the air, one thing I know for certain now is that when some things are never going back to how they were, rather than mourn how it was, we’re meant to fondly remember or learn from the past, and embrace going ahead into the new. I used to be so afraid of change that I would avoid it at all costs; but after realizing that this let me settle into a tedious drudgery of an existence, not allowing even good new things to come to me, I started trying, bit by bit, to learn when to adjust and adapt, or even to seek it out. This doesn’t mean I’ll leap recklessly from pursuit to pursuit, but I no longer panic that the entire world is going to implode when I have to get used to something different.

I’ve gone back to things I hadn’t done in years, finding I still enjoyed them. I’ve also gotten away from some habits that I realized weren’t really benefitting me. I’m not sure that I feel wiser, but I do feel more informed about what works and what doesn’t for myself and my kids, and I’ve found I really feel no need to apologize for that. I discovered it wasn’t just the time spent as a single adult, it was the fact I wasn’t around someone demanding to have every hour of my time accounted for, minimizing or invalidating every one of my actions or reactions, and questioning every decision I made, no matter how small or how big.

Despite not everything going how I hoped, all in all, there has been a tremendous amount of positive or beneficial or necessarily eye-opening things that happened to me or that I decided to make happen. The biggest takeaway for me at the end of this process has been that letting oneself get stuck — and then stay stuck — is far more damaging than taking a risk and not having the optimal result.

Not that there isn’t still work to be done on this situation; my marriage had completely collapsed, there is no “picking up where we left off.” Muffin has a number of behavioral and developmental concerns we’re still tackling. I’m going to be making a major career shift this fall. Absolutely nothing about my future is set in stone. But for the first time in I don’t even know how long, doing something out of the realm of the familiar isn’t intensely terrifying.

So I’ll go into the next stage with a lot less worry, and a bit more confidence. I’m not expecting perfection, but I’m not going to settle for less than what I deserve.

Welcome to My Mid-Life Crisis

When I wasn’t yet 22, I found myself with nothing to do one long weekend, so I went to the local library, and picked out several short books I could read in two or three days. Among them were The Hound of the Baskervilles (my favorite Sherlock tale to date), a Miss Marple story by Agatha Christie (that for some reason I can’t recall a single word of), and a biography about Led Zeppelin, the title of which escapes me, and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t come up with the author, either. Anyway, that’s not the point — the point of this whole post is that I’m suddenly realizing how many things took place in my life legitimate decades ago. First, allow me this aside:

When I wasn’t yet 22, my musical tastes had been shaped by the bands and the intensely “radical” and “reforming” cultural movements of “post-pop,” “neo-glam,” “grunge,” and the like. (The names for things in the 90s were weird.) As many people recently out of adolescence do, I’d assumed that “those days are behind us now,” and that looking ahead to whatever was happening next on the music scene — at the start of a new century, after all! — was the way forward. I was woefully ignorant of the fact that pop music — just like any creative industry — as I knew it had been built on the foundation laid by the original radicals and reformers of the genre (bands like, yes, Led Zeppelin).

Getting back to the biography, I chose that book purely because I realized it was a subject I honestly knew hardly anything about, and I was bored, so at least I’d learn something fun while hanging around my apartment. After reading it, I was definitely aware of how important to the modern music scene such bands were, and of how everything ties together, how creatives influence other creatives, across disciplines, and across time periods, and how it all keeps going on.

The passage that stood out the most to me was the chapter relaying how Led Zep’s most infamous song, Stairway to Heaven, came to be. The studio needed the band’s next album completed, but the band was more inclined to party and be drunk and high than work on the album. So somebody at the studio with connections yanked those strings hard, to book the band and their manager and some techies into a country manor house near Birmingham, England, a sort of “house arrest until they finish the album” setup. Still, no one wanted to work, and Robert Plant, frustrated and bored, took a stroll in the woods around the estate. Plant was an avid reader, and JRR Tolkien was one of his favorite authors. Tolkien lived very close to the area where the country house sat; as Plant strolled, he realized he was extremely near the part of the Midlands forest that had inspired Tolkien when he wrote about the Ents. (See what I mean now about the connections and influences and how it all keeps making new things?) After his walk in the woods, a newly-inspired Plant wrote down some fresh lyrics, he and Jimmy Page quickly began editing and revising; Page wrote the guitar riffs, pretty soon the bass and drum solos were added; and after the band returned to the studio, the infamous Stairway to Heaven was recorded in short order.

At the time, I had no idea that, less than a year after reading this book, I would be living in a cul-de-sac in Warwickshire, England, not too far from where Professor Tolkien penned The Lord of the Rings, and when I opened the front door and let Binky the cat out to the forest beyond the garden fence, I’d find myself instructing my feline friend to be mindful of the Ents.

Last night, I stumbled upon Stairway to Heaven on the radio — nowadays a rare occurrence — and it sunk in that all of this happened to me over 20 years ago.

I have officially reached the age where, even if according to social norms, medical statistics, and whimsical phrases on cheerily painted decorative canvases, I am not “old,” I feel old. Many of the celebrities who are legit close to my age in years are sporting gray hair and minor wrinkles (or hints of more artificial “touch-ups”). Nirvana and the Foo Fighters are now played on classic rock stations. It occurs to me that much of the “cool” and “up to date” slang I’ve been using for years is, er, not so “cool” anymore.

I’ll be in the library, browsing for something I haven’t already read, and as recognition of titles and covers begin to create a shockingly long list in my mind’s eye, the panic starts to set in. I’ll be discussing something I consider a well-known subject with White Fang, but bring up a particular individual or incident, and get a polite but very blank stare in reply, and the panic increases.

I’ll come across a new cover of a song by a famous musician who has left us in the last few years, and I’m like, Holy shit, they’re dead now. And it makes me wonder, What about so and so, are they still alive? Maybe I should look it up. Actually, that could mean going down a rabbit hole of unrelated searches, so never mind. Heh, Nirvana, “Nevermind.” Good Lord, I was in middle school when Kurt Cobain died. Heh, we didn’t even call it middle school yet, back then it was “junior high”…

You can see how spiral-ly the spiral is becoming.

It truly doesn’t help that the internet has done what I was afraid it would do, and has created a culture of literally “that is so five minutes ago!”. Because I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to be on several different social media platforms, nor the financial resources to subscribe to at least 7 streaming services, I’m already becoming aware of just how many trends or cultural events are passing me by at a rapid-fire pace. I keep up with just enough chatter on social media to have an idea of what shows on what services I don’t receive are about what and starring who. I may not have all the details, but I absolutely can’t be accused of living under a rock.

So, on the one hand, I’m not so old that I honestly don’t care about who’s famous online this week for what. But, on the other, I am old enough that I feel exhausted just by the daunting idea of attempting to follow it all.

One of the benefits of technological advances is that we’re exposed quicker than ever to things and people and places hundreds or even thousands of miles from our home turf, and while this is amazing and informative — it’s also a little overwhelming. I will totally skip the ads on YouTube; I will absolutely keep my social feeds to the people I follow there, and generally not venture out of my own community on whichever site it is. I peruse the news headlines to make sure I haven’t missed anything truly earthshattering. I pay attention when my children want to tell me about a new game they’re playing or a viral meme, because I don’t relish the idea of being so out of the loop that I get that look and cut out of conversation with my own offspring.

But I am also noticing, in a way that I definitely didn’t a few years ago, that I’m winding up in more and more circles of folks right within my age range, or a lot closer to it than, say, somebody in their early twenties.

Not that “the kids” make me feel “old.”

It’s more the fact that Smells Like Teen Spirit is now a regular on the classic rock playlists.

This Wicked Fate: R&R Blog Tours

Good morning! We’re back on a blog tour, today featuring “This Wicked Fate” by Amanda Aggie. It’s an excitement-packed dark fantasy, with a steamy (yes, that means mature!) romance. (Note: There’s a fair amount of violence and some gore as well, just so you know! This title is pitched as “for fans of The Witcher,” and I’d say that’s a very good barometer!) If you don’t mind the stuff in the content warning, and are eager for a grittier sort of epic fantasy, balanced with humor and kindness, then give this one a try!

Summary:

I’m the Princess of Solaria, a realm full of beasts that could make the Devil cower. Except that title means nothing, because I’ll be dead by the week’s end.

Like my sisters before me, the moment I turned twenty-three, my father announced a gauntlet. A fight to the death, where the most ruthless of the land could try to claim me as their bride.

Desperate, I entered the gauntlet and fought for my own hand. Only the mad king is a twisted monster who loves to play tricks, and now instead of wearing a crown, I’m a prisoner, set to be executed for defying the king’s tradition.

I start to fear that things can’t get any worse, but I’m quickly proven wrong when I’m shoved into a cage with a man I’ve never met before.

Who knows why he’s in chains… but if he can lend me a hand, we might have a chance to escape this wicked fate.

About the author:

In her author bio, Amanda Aggie says about herself:

“I’m a mom to two beautiful, tiny humans and a furbaby, and married to my best friend. My favorite holiday is Taco Tuesday and the second is a close tie between Halloween and Thanksgiving.

“I write stories—magical stories, to be precise. I’ll take you to another world and have you sitting on the edge of your seat, unsure of whom to root for because while my heroes are strong and my heroines are fiery, my villains are justified. Maybe even redeemable.

“I write stories ranging from jalapeno to ghost on the pepper scale. So, be prepared! But, I write raw emotion, that will make you fall in love with my characters as hard as they fall for each other.”

This Wicked Fate is available on Amazon (along with many other titles by Aggie).

The Return of Mini-Reviews!

Yes, I used to do a lot of these! Not that I can promise getting back to mini-reviews on a regular basis, but since I’m soon going to be very busy with other things, I figure this is the best way to get a bunch of recent reads and watches covered!

The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches by Sangu Mandanna:

Unfortunately, this was a huge letdown. It started out very charming, hinting towards found family, with a perky optimistic protagonist, and a new twist on witchy worldbuilding. It was, honestly, lovely — until the dreaded third act twist, a trope now in contemporary romance, in which the author revealed something that changed the ENTIRE premise; and in this case meant that 90% of the characters were liars, frauds, and had been willingly endangering children (yup, you read that right) through their deception. It made me SO mad that the author took the trust and rapport readers had built with her cast, then literally poured gasoline on it, threw a match, and tossed in some fireworks for good measure. The “reveal” was HORRIBLE. It meant that a book that was quickly headed towards 4 stars immediately plummeted to negative 7 for me. It actually made me angry that it was a library copy and I had to return it, because I very, very much wanted to throw it in the trash. Won’t be trying anything else by this author, and, sadly, not recommending their work, either.

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree:

This was cute, but just not what I hoped for. The characters connected well, but were kind of flat. The romance seemed a bit forced to me, and the overall premise for the novel was a little…unrealistic, even for a fantasy. The writing was very engaging, though, and I think this author is one to keep an eye on. If you really like cozy fic, see no need for a bunch of action, and like the little details of worldbuilding, this could definitely be up your alley.

Under the Whispering Door by TJ Klune:

It’s been almost a year since I read this, and, honestly, it’s taken me quite a while to figure out how I feel about it. I’d heard raving about this author, and I did try to read his big hit, The House in the Cerulean Sea; but it legit made me feel so depressed, I couldn’t get past the third chapter without wanting to cry. I’d read reviews that said it gets much, much better and that the ending is heartwarming, but I couldn’t do it. Despite this experience, I really wanted to try Under the Whispering Door; the premise sounded rather different, and the cover was so charming. And I did read it, but for a long time afterwards, something about this story bugged me. In the end, I realized that it was simply flat; the characters all fit a type, there was nothing extraordinary or really intriguing in the worldbuilding, even the antagonists seemed easy to beat, and the story itself is rather forgettable. So, I don’t have anything against this author, but will just find something other than his work to try.

Anna Dressed in Blood by Kendare Blake:

This was a GREAT change of pace. It was a “blind” pick, as I bought a box of assorted used books at a yard sale (yes, I did!), and this YA horror was in said box. Since I generally don’t like horror, I considered giving it a pass; but there was something about the understated cover, the blurb that gave you the basics but left you wanting more, and I decided to go for it. Excellent choice.

This was published in 2012, but I honestly have never come across it mentioned anywhere, and that is a damn shame. It’s a YA novel without the angst, without the tropes, that comes in under 400 pages, has adolescent characters that act like teenagers, and a mother who’s eccentric but still a good parent. The romance is a subplot; it isn’t fraught with melodrama; it’s expected but not unsatisfying. The main plot is pretty simple, but well done; I liked the worldbuilding, I liked the narration; I didn’t even mind the gory moments, because none of them felt out of place or too much. This was a fun read. I was pleased with the ending. After 3 years of reading YA fantasy that made me roll my eyes so hard I practically sprained the muscles, Anna Dressed in Blood was a wonderful subversion from the same old, same old. I just found out there’s a sequel, so I’ll be adding that to my TBR as soon as possible.

By the way, I did notice the text was all in a red font, a touch I loved.

Thor: Love and Thunder:

While not as engaging as the previous Thor installments (and in some spots quite a bit sillier), I still enjoyed Love and Thunder. The fact that it has been several years since Chris Hemsworth and Natalie Portman acted together, and that they still showed a connection and their characters’ mixed feelings as a former couple were very believable, went a long way towards ensuring there was a satisfying payoff to the film. And the hints throughout at Thor’s new role as a foster parent weren’t too heavyhanded. I really liked the scenes with the kids from Asgard, and I would totally be lying if I said there wasn’t a huge smile on my face during that November Rain takedown…

Cocaine Bear:

So. I’m completely aware the movie Cocaine Bear is not going to be very accurate. I don’t care. I was in the mood for stoned CGI bear shenanigans. I remain ticked that this film is 80% people hijinks and only 20% said Bear. Most of the characters are very hard to relate to, anyway — the drug dealers are drug dealers, the park rangers are massive jerkwads, the teen delinquents little jerkwads, the foreign hikers laughable stereotypes, and the two middle schoolers who act smarter than some of the “adults” and are magically excellent at outwitting a literally-high-on-cocaine bear are just annoying. The whole thing about there’s a crooked cop and a cop who will save the day and the guy trying to get the drugs back so he doesn’t get in trouble with the cartel…blah, blah, blah, who cares?! I seriously would’ve been happy if this was a 30-minute film of The Bear doing stoner stuff in the wilderness, no humans around, set to jazz music. Yup, that would’ve worked out just fine.

Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves:

I guess it is physically impossible to make a decent D&D movie. The ones from the 80s and 90s were so bad; the animated ones were so bad; and this latest offering is, well, bad. Who wrote the script?!?! My god, it was like all the writers were hungover, so someone rounded up a seventh grade ELA class and let them loose on the documents that eventually wound up in the actors’ hands. The lack of connection between ANY of the characters (despite Chris Pine and Hugh Grant really trying) was palpable. There was subplot after subplot after subplot after subplot — and more than once, I just wanted the damn thing to end. The special effects were state of the art — but scenes with incredible creatures or amazing magic were SO short-lived, and then it was back to tedious dialogue and lame side quests, and I almost stopped paying attention. ALSO — WHY WAS THE BEST PART OF THE STORY TOLD AT THE BEGINNING THROUGH NARRATION?! Clearly the best parts of the action, establishing the characters, and building the world happened during what was cut to a five-minute flashback. BE-YOND LAME. I wanted to watch that movie, damn it!, not the one we got. Sigh.

Halloween Ends:

Didn’t I just say I don’t really do horror? Well, I don’t, and I certainly have not seen all of the Halloween franchise; honestly, I only watched the original a few years ago so that I’d finally understand some of the pop culture references. Anyway, I knew enough about the series that I was interested to see how they would wrap it up, how the longest-lasting villain in horror-movie-land would finally go down, so I watched it. Okay, yes, maybe I shouldn’t have watched it in a dark room (hey, so much of it takes place at night!), by myself, after 9 p.m. Okay, yes, I might have given myself a slight heartattack by seeing a raincoat draped over a chair in a mostly dark and totally quiet kitchen… Ahem. But it’s really all right, because if Halloween has taught us anything, it’s that Jamie Lee Curtis will save us all.

Everything Everywhere All At Once:

This movie is bonkers, an over-the-top, crazy, bizarre, and incredibly poignant, touching, and relatable film all at once. It won’t be for everyone, and even among fans there are probably parts that will just result in head scratching, but it is also so very unique and special, and there are absolutely moments that warm the heart (and open up the tear ducts!). When I finished watching it, I had a strong feeling that this is a tale that stays with you, for many reasons, many of them good.

And there we have it! Happy reading and watching, everyone!

6 Years on WordPress?!: Featuring Some Long-Winded Ramblings and a Little Self-Deprecating Humor

How have I been on WordPress for 6 years??

Easy, really. I just kind of…keep blogging…right?

What’s truly amazing is that, in a time period when I can’t even remember when I last changed my socks, I did recall I had a blogging anniversary coming up before the website notified me.

So, 6 years. Yes, it’s been a while. And this blog has been through some changes.

Honestly, when I first started it, I did so because I had a new baby and no sense of self; Muffin took up so much of my time and energy (as infants tend to do), and all my previous incarnations — Early Childhood employee, dance teacher, possible-one-day-author — were completely on hold. I wanted to do something just for me. It would help maintain my sanity while caring for a preemie who required more of my patience than I thought existed.

The blog began with weekly posts about family life and me exploring this new space, and what it could mean for a modest housewife trying to find her place in it. Despite social media hardly being a new thing by 2015, I hadn’t gone any further into it than determining which YouTubers were appropriate for White Fang to watch.

So, diving into blogs of all sorts and eventually getting on Twitter, Facebook, briefly Pinterest, and Goodreads for a while became a journey, full of ups and downs, and not only did I learn a bunch about how real people behave in cyber-life, but also — in a non-cliche way — about myself.

The more I got into reading blogs about publishing and writing, the more determined I grew to join the swelling ranks of indie authors. The less I wanted to post humorous quips from my kids; the more I wanted to focus on the things that shaped my passions and goals.

And I did it. I created author accounts and learned how to use Nook Press, and started uploading files and pressing the “Publish Now” button.

That was 7 books ago — 4 in a series, and 3 collections of short stories. Am I a bestseller? God, no, not even close! But I can still pick up one of several paperbacks with my name on it and honestly say, “I WROTE THIS.” The fact I have accomplished something I dreamed for years of doing can’t be changed or taken away.

And while my blog now covers everything from brutally honest book reviews to sly comments on the state of life, my writing style hasn’t strayed far from the “cozy fantasy” I always hoped to produce.

It’s interesting that it appears I haven’t changed that much, after experiencing so much that has certainly broadened my perspective, my outlook, and my plans.

I’m continually meeting new people that either affirm or challenge thoughts and opinions I’m used to (for good or for scream-inducing). I’m frequently learning about authors and movies that are increasing my personal database of new likes or dislikes, reinforcing my own tastes and standards.

I’ve also realized that, while it’s important to keep your eyes open, and sometimes your mind, holding true to what your heart yearns for is vital to having health and happiness.

Therefore, in spite of the downs, I’m still here for the ups. In the last 6 years, I’ve met so many wonderful friends; supporters and loyal readers; once complete strangers who stumbled on my little corner of the blogisphere and never left. You’re a big part of the reason I haven’t wandered off to other pastures, and why the flowers and sunshine are still hanging around here.

This unremarkable, naturally introverted, happily-low-key moth was, is, and will be forever grateful to be sharing this path with all of you.

Indie Release Reviews!

Hello, everyone! It feels like a very long time since I reviewed some self-pubbed titles, doesn’t it?! And, yes, it really has been; for the last couple of years, due to Muffin being the focus of my book-buying budget, I have been at the mercy of the library catalogue for developing my own TBR, and we all know many libraries do not carry indie or small press releases. But this Christmas when I amazingly had a gift card that wasn’t earmarked for something else, I used it to search out some indie authors I’d been meaning to try. And one of these titles was a gift from the author. So a couple of months ago, I took a break from paring down the mountain of discards I took from the library last year, to finish (and even review! yay!) some of the non-trad titles. Here we go!

The Thor Bozman Collection by Wm Brett Hill

These stories are unique, written with a clear voice, and each is different. The tales aren’t connected to one another, but all the narrators feel authentic to their own story. The settings and plots wildly vary, too. The author gets a chance to explore a variety of themes and thoughts, and I really liked the twists — even the couple that I suspected were coming were delivered in a satisfying way. There is some gory violence and a little adult language, not a bad thing in my view, just for readers to be aware of in case it’s not your cup of tea. If you like sci-fi and spec fic (including dystopian or post-apocalypse), these are neat tales to immerse yourself in. I read one a night across the span of about a week, and every night it was an hour well spent. I’m looking forward to what Hill may tackle next!

Snapshots by Jeff Coleman

This was a real find. I used to follow this author’s blog, where every week he’d release a new piece of flash fiction. Although he has moved on to full-length novels (do look him up!), I am so, so pleased he bundled together the blog posts and published them as an anthology. Many of them are short (1-2 pages), so you can read several in one go. Each piece features a different setting, location, premise and narrator, and while the voice does very often sound the same, it doesn’t matter; Coleman’s writing is at once expansive and relatable, interesting, serious when it needs to be, touching or funny (when it fits), and some of these “snapshots” are incredibly deep and meaningful to parts of the human experience. Coleman literally runs the whole range of spec fic, from magical realism and fantasy to sci fi and dystopia, to truly scary horror. The collection is neatly divided by category, so finding something you’re in the mood for won’t be hard. My personal favorites are “Redemption” and “The Machine,” both of which move me nearly to tears on each reading. If you like short fiction, this is definitely a treasure trove.

The Hare and the Hatter by Kyle R Shultz

Once upon a time, a mad lad called Kyle Robert Shultz decided to create a fictional place called The Afterverse, and blend subverting fairytale tropes with the historical mystery genre, throw in some references to Alice in Wonderland, and include time travel and he made it all work. Five canon books, a spin-off series, a number of related short stories, and many flailing fans later (who generally just communicate with each other about plot twists by screaming), Shultz returned to the Afterverse this year with The Hare and the Hatter. If you haven’t already read these, it’s impossible to give a proper review without MASSIVE spoilers, so I won’t ruin it for you — just buy Beaumont and Beasley #1, The Beast of Talesend, and get started on the journey.

The fact is, this is one of the most unique and enjoyable fantasy series you’re ever likely to read. Most of the books are fairly short, and while there are a lot of them (including the spin-off series of Crockett and Crane), you can read one usually in a few days (truly, you’ll want to, because boring bits in the middle is not something Shultz does, like, ever). While I may be biased since, yes, this author and I used to work together a lot (he designed several beautiful covers for me), I still like this series, this world, and these characters in their own rights. The Afterverse is home to one of my biggest fictional crushes, not gonna lie, the shapeshifting dragon Malcolm Blackfire. I literally want to marry this man (yes, I know he’s just words on paper, shut it), and tend to get a tad…emotional if this character’s suffering reaches a certain level that I’m not comfortable with him having to endure (basically anything more intense than a papercut). This is by no means the only reason, but indeed one of the main reasons, that I will totally finish this series to the end, no matter how long it takes to acquire and read the rest of the books.

Ahem.

So, there we have it! I hope to have more indie reviews coming up soon! Take care, everyone!