Reesa Herberth's Blog, page 21

Interviewed at Selena Robins's Blog

Selena Robins has posted an interview she did with us recently.  Head on over to her blog to read about how Michelle and I met and started writing together, heart-shaped pancakes, and whether or not we've ever been abducted by aliens.

An Interview With the Dynamic Duo (No, not Batman and Robin.)

We want you to get in on the fun!  Drop us a comment on Selena's blog, or here on this entry, and tell us what caper you'd pull, if you thought you could get away with it.  (And there were no repercussions.)  Everyone who comments will be entered to win a gift certificate, and if we get more than fifty commenters, we'll give out two gift certificates.  The winner will be announced on our blog, and emailed directly, so be sure to include contact information in your comment.

Roadblocks

I don't believe in writer's block.

Sure, that's a strong statement to make, but it's true.  I don't believe that as a separate entity, writer's block exists.  I can be tired, stressed, lazy, uninterested in the project I'm working on, or just acting like a ferret tanked on a Venti quad-shot red-eye.  All of those interfere with my ability and desire to write decent fiction, but none of them render me completely incapable of it.  Sometimes several of them combine, and I feel like I've been hit by a truck, and I just don't want to write.

That's the key, though.  I don't want to.  I am physically and mentally capable of doing it, but due to some outlying circumstance, I manage to procrastinate, fritter, spindle (no, really) or otherwise ignore my writing time until it evaporates.

So you can imagine my annoyance when, this weekend, I found myself in the position of being afflicted by something I don't even believe in.  I wanted to write.  I wanted to finish a new chapter in my solarpunk book, to sail past the 20,000 word mark and laugh as the speed of my progress left my previous weekend wordcounts coughing up dust in my wake.  It was going to be glorious.  I was going to finish the book by July, whip out the sequel in August, and then have a nice nap in September.

But I couldn't.  I pushed myself through the 20,000 word mark, because that was incredibly important to me.  This is the longest project I've ever worked on solo, and that was the milestone I needed to pass to make it stick.  I'm going to finish this book, and (I hope) it's going to knock your socks off.  I wrote a little over 150 words this weekend, and they were some of the hardest, and most important that I've ever yanked from my brain.

Staring at the story I was writing, I knew I'd created a roadblock for myself.  I'd built far too much emotional and psychic baggage into those 150 words.  There was nothing extraordinary about word 20,001, at least nothing that wasn't just as extraordinary as word 13, or word 45,968.

I knew that, and after staring at an open document and finding myself totally unable to string the words I needed together to paint the picture in my head, I'd like to say that I also knew that sometimes, a roadblock is there for a reason.  If I couldn't get past those 150 words, maybe they were the only 150 words that mattered this weekend.  I broke 20,000 on a solo project, and I'd made that into such a huge imaginary hurdle that once I was over it, I felt like I'd won, and I'd used up all my effort for the day.

I'd like to say that.  I really would.  But what really happened was, I questioned everything I'd ever done.  I wondered if I had gone suddenly, irrevocably stupid.  If Michelle would still speak to me, when I informed her that I had run out of quarters, and redeemed the last of my Creativity Skeeball tickets for a runty paragraph or two about some dudes in a car.  I got so desperate for distraction that I folded my laundry.

So here we are, Monday, with an evening scheduled for writing.  And I know it's going to happen.  I can feel the words waiting, and I know I have a story to tell.  I've switched vehicles, and tonight, I'm going to steamroll right the hell over that roadblock I created for myself, and I'm going to enjoy it.

I still don't believe in writer's block, but I do believe that sometimes, I let my own expectations and emotional investment in a project overshadow the simple fact that at the end of the day, if I don't write it, it's not going to get done.

 

Signal Sharing – Art and Industry by Makers, Crafters, and Friends

The cool thing about being friends with all kinds of creative people is that I'm surrounded by art.  Every day, someone I know has brought something new into the world, almost always awesome.  I thought it would be fun to share some of them, so you can expect a little signal sharing everyone once in awhile.

 

Honey and Ollie – Whimsical Jewelry and Mandala Art With Soul

My friend Rain has known me since the deep, dark days of my adolescence, and is still willing to associate with me.  Her heart has always been wide open, and she lives her life with a fearless determination that I don't think she ever gives herself enough credit for.  Her art is both personal and welcoming, and her jewelry perfectly captures the unique blend of rustic, elegant, joyful whimsy that I will forever associate with her.

ConnorWrites – Fiction by Connor Wright

One of the best things about knowing other writers is getting to watch their success unfold.  Totally true of our long friendship with Connor Wright, who has been a cheerleader, fan, and collaborator, way back in the days of chat room roleplaying sessions that kept us up all night.  An insightful critic of our work for so long that I'm having a hard time thinking of a piece of fiction that doesn't have Connor's fingerprints on it somewhere, it's exciting and wonderful to watch the contracts roll in for our friend.  (My favourite of the currently available works is "Totally Choice", if you're looking for a fun starting point.)

Are you a maker, a writer, a blogger?  Show me something cool, and I would be happy to tell the rest of the world about it.  Drop us a comment here, or through the Contact page.

What's We're Working On – Project Update, April 2011

This is the project list as it stands on April 13, 2011.  We reserve the right to have a better idea, get hopelessly sidetracked by other things, or throw our hands in the air and declare a story dead at any point.

I've also added progress bars for the current novels, on the sidebar.  And if you're really amused by random words, I'm tweeting the first and last word of everything I add to Peripheral People, on the Ylendrian Empire twitter.

Writing:

Novel-length

Peripheral People – Codename: Pineapple – Ylendrian Empire novel, space opera paranormal/mystery, potentially (ain't no "potentially" about it anymore) m/f, m/m – approx. 90,000 words, 60% completed
The Memory Keeper – Reesa – Post-nirvana fringe rebels trying to save their friend from a disease must use their hidden, mutated powers to infiltrate the corporate city that offers their only hope of salvation. Post-apocalyptic, created family, futuristic, fantasy powers, m/f, m/m – approx. 90,000-110,000 words, 10% completed

Short Stories

A Thousand Words – Michelle – Enchanted Grounds universe.

Outlining/Researching:

Novel-length

Lew/Jess/Denny novel - Ylendrian Empire novel, space opera romance with paranormal elements, m/f/m, potentially 80,000-100,000 words

Pull elements from large portions already written
Work to tie in with other Ylendrian stories
Fit into timeline

Short Stories

Something About Dancing – Ylendrian Empire short, Kellen/Tal/Vanya, post-The Slipstream Con, Kellen's got a job to do, and a shaky notion that the discomfort he's feeling about it might be a conscience. The horror!

Editing:

Nothing at this time.

Working for the weekend

You haven't lived until you've written a sex scene in a Starbucks.  Especially an awkward, tangled, emotionally charged sex scene involving a telepath.

Maybe there's a reason that the guy in the corner keeps giving me funny looks when I take a break to play peek-a-boo with his daughter.  I mean, I'm not wearing my "I'm writing the Naughty Parts!" t-shirt today, but perhaps he just knows.

Maybe he's a telepath.

I've been working up to using this song as a soundtrack for weeks, and the time has finally come. Heh. Yeah.  You see what I did there.

Interviewed by Heather at The Galaxy Express

Well, now I feel famous- Heather Massey at The Galaxy Express has interviewed us!   Highlights include some behind-the-scenes info on The Slipstream Con, our taste in television, the state of the Ylendrian Empire, and the always relevant: boxers or briefs?

We had a blast talking with Heather, and you can read the results, as well as Heather's thoughts on The Slipstream Con, here:

An Interview With S. Reesa Herberth & Michelle Moore, Authors of THE SLIPSTREAM CON

Michelle and I are dropping in to answer questions in the comments section, so feel free to ask us something cheeky and relevant.

And the winner is…

We're pleased to announce that the winner of our latest comment contest is:

Susan R.

We'll be emailing Susan R. to find out what format she would prefer her book in.

Thanks to everyone who commented, and be sure to stick around.  We'll have more contests coming up, not to mention a sneaky snippet from The Slipstream Con and The Balance of Silence here and there.

Who DOESN'T love jewelry?

The Slipstream Con: Ylendrian Empire, Book 2

So how did Reesa and I spend New Release Day??  Duh… with shopping, of course.  Reesa had this super cool idea to create bead charm bracelets to commemorate our books.  I did not need any convincing, being the sappy romantic that I am.  Something to celebrate and commemorate AND it's pretty jewelry?  I'm there!

 

I may have spent almost *mumble mumble* two hours obsessing over beads.  But seriously, there were so many!  And it would be sad to not find the perfect one to represent Riv and Ducks, or Tal and Kellen and Vanya.  Or planets.  Because come on, I needed a beach glass bead to represent Karibee, and a snowflake for Noska, and this cool green swirly thing for Maltana, and this brass etched official looking charm for Rogena and… well, you get the idea.

 

Pictures coming soon!

 

The Slipstream Con – Available now!

It's finally here!  Our new book, The Slipstream Con, releases today, and we're excited to be able to share an excerpt with you.

You can read the full first chapter, or purchase the book, by clicking on the cover below.

—

Is love the biggest con of them all?

A Ylendrian Empire story.

For three years, Kellen Frey has led bounty hunters Tal and Vanya on a merry chase, evading capture with flair and style. Now, just when they finally have their pet project—and object of their mutual fantasies—cornered, the elusive con artist turns the tables and gives himself up. A sudden attack of conscience, perhaps? Tal and Vanya know better.

Their suspicions are confirmed when a crime lord comes dangerously close to killing them all, and the rapidly sickening thief is forced to confess the truth—he's been accidentally dosed with a highly illegal form of nanotechnology.

If Kellen can't get his hands on another dose, he's finished. The problem is, the only thief who's ever broken in to Slipstream Labs is his ex-girlfriend, and she's allergic to bounty hunters. As he does his best to play both sides, he struggles with his growing desire to be more than a prisoner to Tal and Vanya. Without trust, they won't survive long. The clock is ticking as they race to uncover a conspiracy that spans the Ylendrian Empire.

Product Warnings

This book contains an anti-hero with no qualms about redecorating your spaceship, a heroine capable of killing you with her hair stick, and another hero who would like nothing more than to shag them both without the inconvenience of a conscience.

—

Chapter One

The smoky rat's nest of a club passed for high dollar on Station 43, and they priced their watered-down drinks accordingly. Tal had nursed his for over an hour by the time Vanya slipped into the seat across from him. Her dark hair was pulled up in a complicated twist that left half her curls free to cast shadows across her face, and the light from the candle between them wavered with her barely quickened breath.

"Station authorities undocked his ship a few minutes ago, and they're dragging it to an impound net right now. We'll be able to search it as soon as they've received our warrant transmissions. There isn't a ship scheduled for departure for the next full cycle, and they're already recalibrating their law-enforcement scans to search for his face." Smiling impishly, she leaned across the table and snatched the last of his drink, tossing it back with aplomb. Neither of them said it, because until they closed the binders around his wrists it wasn't real, but they both knew they were bringing in the bounty on Kellen Frey after three years of running him down.

Before the empty glass even reached the table, a scantily clad waitress replaced it with another. Tal found himself staring, the woman's ample attributes brushing his cheek. Vanya laughed softly, and he jerked his eyes back up. "What?"

She waited until the waitress had left them alone again before answering, and he knew damn good and well that she was enjoying watching him squirm. "I think she likes you, Tal. Should I just go look for Frey by myself, while you get to know our hostess?"

He grunted something vaguely outraged at her, leaving his drink after the first burn of it warmed his throat. Vanya's blue eyes sparkled, and he cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her skin. Tal dropped a credit chit on the table and stood, offering her his hand. She rose gracefully to her feet and led him across the dance floor, her steps light as the two of them slipped out the door.

In the cooler common hallways of the station, they both took a moment to check their weapons and their notebooks. Tal had three alerts in the last minute indicating that a partial facial match had been made on someone heading for the docking bays. In true form, they were all coming from different corridors on different levels. Unless Frey had learned to clone himself at will, he was on to them and already hacking their feed.

"Split up or track him together?"

Vanya watched the screen for a moment before answering. "Together. And I don't think any of these are really him. The partials are all blips. He's just throwing them up across the grid for a second or two at a time, long enough to alert, but there's no tracking after that."

"I wonder…" Tal didn't finish the thought, fingers sliding over his notebook as he diverted more of the station's resources to his own use. "He's cloning someone, all right, but not himself." Holding out the pad for her to see, he shook his head in amusement. According to the station-wide trackers, Tal was currently standing in the hallway with his wife and heading towards the docking bay of their ship.

"Damn." She sighed, twining her loose curls between her fingers distractedly. "Want to hazard a guess as to why he's on his way to our ship?"

"Sabotage," Tal said without hesitation. He hoped he was wrong, that Frey wouldn't be that stupid, but Vanya merely nodded and ducked into the nearest lift. He kept watching on his notebook as flickers of misinformation sprang up all over the station. When the door to the lift slid open, he tucked the pad away, and they spilled out with their weapons drawn, sprinting down the deserted corridor in the direction of the more populated docking areas.

"And there we are," Vanya whispered triumphantly as the familiar figure disappeared around the corner. There was only one way up or down the corridor, but they hugged the walls for the limited cover provided by the bulkheads. Frey wasn't a violent man, but he also wasn't used to being cornered, and they had blast guns for a reason.

Tal wasn't expecting to find Frey leaning against the sealed docking pod, his hands clearly visible in front of him as he smiled faintly.

"Vanya, Tal, it's been too long." He gave them a careful slow nod. "Your hair looks stunning like that, Vanya."

Tal watched the slow smile spread across his wife's face out of the corner of his eye, most of his attention still on their mark as he stood there waiting to be restrained.

"You're too sweet, Kellen. And just turning yourself in to us this way? How did you know it was Tal's birthday next week?"

"Well, I thought to myself, what do you get for the bounty hunter who has everything? Sorry about the wrapping job," he said with a wave of his hand to the black bodysuit he was wearing.

Tal snorted as he caught Frey's other hand, slapping the binding cuff on it and waiting while the tight plastic was suctioned down to an immobile glove over Kellen's all-too-nimble fingers.

"Nice bow too." Tal ruffled the unnaturally bright blond hair before he pulled Frey's other hand behind his back and settled it into the binders. "I think I'll wait a while to unwrap it, though. In fact, I'm thinking I'll put it somewhere safe, first."

Vanya holstered her blast gun and started patting Frey down, grinning the whole time. "My, my, you are well-appointed." She took a slender, tightly rolled tool kit from a pocket near his hip.

The flash of dismay was almost too quick to see, covered immediately by a cocky shrug. "I've never had any complaints."

"I'm sure you haven't." Tal nodded towards the tool kit. "Let's just see how well-appointed, shall we?"

Van dropped it into his hand with a slight frown, and this time there was no missing the unhappy crease between Kellen's eyes.

It all looked ordinary enough, the tools obviously used but well-kept. Tal rolled them over again with one finger, waiting for some telltale sign from Kellen. When there was no reaction, he sighed. "Okay, so what's with these? I know there's something."

Kellen glanced from the tool kit to Tal. "It was a gift," he said, voice tight and defensive. "I'd like it back, please."

Tal sensed rather than saw Van's eyebrows rise, but he kept his eyes on the other man's face. "From your dear, departed mother?"

That was probably a little below the belt, judging from the way Kellen bit down on his lip. "I asked nicely. What more do you want? It's not like I can use them right now."

"I'll make sure you get them back at some point." Tal dropped them into the pocket of his own pants. "Anything else?"

"Let's have a look, shall we?" She pulled a slender pick from Frey's collar and a few single shock-packs from his pockets, but on the whole it didn't seem as though he'd been out with any particular mischief in mind. Vanya handed Tal Frey's notebook, but a quick glance showed it to be a tangle of encryptions that Tal would try to defeat later. For the time being he simply shut it off, relishing the sudden death of the alerts beeping on his own device.

"Let's get him into the cell so we can process the claim." Tal keyed in the entry code for their docking pod, then bent down for the retinal scan.

"Finally," muttered Kellen, and Tal narrowed his eyes. There was always a game with Frey, always a con to be unraveled, and he was smart enough to realize that finding the biggest rundown of their career sitting on their doorstep probably wasn't the gift from the gods that it seemed.

Their holding cells were converted crew cabins, and they only had two of them. Vanya, ever the gracious hostess, gave Kellen a choice of which one he wanted. A gentle shove through the door sent him stumbling into the small space.

"My own cabin? You two really know how to treat a guy."

"Only the best for you, sweetheart," Tal drawled. "Being that there is a person of a different gender present, Imperial law requires that I offer you the choice of one of us leaving while you strip. Do you have a preference?"

Frey smiled, a flash of perfect white teeth that matched the twinkle in his eyes. "My preference has always been for whomever is willing. Which of you lovely people is going to come in here and help me?" He turned to the side, wiggling a little to show off his cuffed hands. "I won't bite, I swear."

"Oh, why don't you do it, honey? I know how good you are at getting people out of their clothes." Vanya patted Tal's cheek, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll go get us scheduled to undock."

Tal turned back to find as innocent a look as he had ever seen lighting Frey's face, and rolled his eyes. "No sudden moves, or I'll leave you in the cuffs until we hit atmo in Rogena next week."

"I'd put my hands where you can see them, but I'm a bit hampered by your little bondage fetish at the moment. I guess my word will have to be enough."

Tal entered the lock code, stepping through the door of the cell and letting the clear panel slide closed. He waited for the locks to seal, then motioned to Frey, who turned around obediently and waited while his hands were freed. Tal's jaw tightened as Kellen cracked his knuckles, but all it took was a raised eyebrow and Frey was unzipping his bodysuit, revealing the whole lot of nothing that he was wearing underneath it.

"Did you want the full floor show?" Fingers toying with the zipper, Frey paused as it parted just below his waist.

While he wasn't averse to seeing what the full show might entail, Tal was fairly certain that it wouldn't be the best idea. "Just strip."

"Your loss." Frey stepped out of the suit without fanfare, though he did seem to be fighting a smile and losing.

"I'll try to live with my disappointment," Tal said dryly, catching the body suit when Frey tossed it at him.

—

The Slipstream Con – Space opera with a twist, available now from Samhain Publishing.

It's like the night before opening night!

Or something like that anyway.  The Slipstream Con is out tomorrow!  On the one hand, it seems like we were just writing it yesterday.  On the other, this has taken forever and a day.

Excited and nervous seem to be the emotions of the day, with excited in the forefront.  Kellen, Tal and Vanya are going to be released to the world at large.  I hope everyone loves them as much as we do.

Michelle