Ash Krafton's Blog, page 34
December 15, 2011
Creepfests: A Time for Dungeon-Delving
In the spirit of the Creepfest Blog Hop, I thought I'd share a glimpse into my inspirations: what attracts me to dark poetry.
I'm a poet at heart, my ordinary thoughts twisted into curls of language and hitched to images I can't escape. I love speech--old speech, poetic speech, the lofty structures of Byron and the pedestal-worthy rants of Poe. Every now and then I'll dip into a book or watch a Shakespearean play and wonder: why don't people talk like that anymore?
I never got into the goth look and I'm too old for emo but I've always had dungeons in my heart. Those dungeons are a fun place to visit.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not into iron bars or rusty manacles. I prefer the long halls lit by wavering torch flame, the far-off skritters of unknown things, the echoes of dripping drips and scratchy scratches against cold stone. But most of all—I love the desperation.
Desperation is the purest emotion, the absolute essence of the human spirit. It beats hope in a foot race without breaking a sweat because whereas hope is blind, desperation has a goal, a focus, a reason for the drive.
And, sure, hope is a nice thing. No one survives without it. But sometimes I get tired of bouncing along, full of optimism, waiting for something. A big, nameless, something. On the other hand, desperation gets stuff done. Got a deadline? Tap into desperation and the job gets tackled. On the verge of losing the one you love? Desperation makes you step out of your safety zone and do what needs to be done to save that love. Without desperation, we'd drown in defeat and complacency.
Desperation is at work behind a lot of what I write. Now, I'm not normally a desperate person: I gots me a happy marriage, a wonderful if slightly nutty family, a double-fist of job security, and an overall fortunate life. But who writes about that stuff? Not the dark poets, that's for sure.
Sometimes I need help getting down to the dungeons so that I can tap those tales. Most of the time, I call on my muse: music.
Today's muse is Sebastian Bach of Skid Row fame…but I need to get something out of my system before I continue: THE HAIR.
Look. At. That. Hair. Twenty-some years later and I'm still trying to grow mine out like that. He has the hair of a god. Sweet Lawd A-mighty.
Anyways. The dungeon.
I popped in Slave to The Grind today because I was looking at shoes on the Victoria's Secret website. In case you can't see the connection, here it is:
Shoes-->heels-->stacked heels--> Stack heels kickin' rhythm-->Monkey Business. See? Logic at its finest.
I popped in the CD and immediately my tweener left the room. She's allergic to hair metal. (She's not adopted, either, so I can't figure that part out.) Lots of fun songs started to play—like the aforementioned Monkey Business and Slave to the Grind…but then the slower songs came on.
Wasted Time.
That song is an express elevator to the lowest levels of my dungeon complex. The desperation runs like a crystal spring there. The despair rings clear. The door opens and I find myself in a room I haven't visited in a long, long time.
I closed my eyes and let the song take me, unsure of what I tried to remember. You know how a song brings back a buried memory? I could feel it, digging closer to the surface and I almost didn't want to remember. I didn't know how much it would hurt.
Luckily, the song was over before I got any clear image. I don't know if I want to go back that far anymore. I like where I'm at. But…I know where my next project is going to be waiting for me.
There's another song on that album called Quicksand Jesus. Bach is the only guy who could sing that song. No one else would have done the desperation any justice.
Quicksand Jesus, I'm so far away without you. That's exactly how I feel when I'm down in my dungeon. So far away.
And it's not a bad thing, either. It gives me the room I need to turn those images into words.
Everyone has a muse, the magnet that pulls them closer to their stories. Care to share yours?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Remember to go to to enter the Creepfest Giveaway and go here to return to the Creepfest list.
I'm a poet at heart, my ordinary thoughts twisted into curls of language and hitched to images I can't escape. I love speech--old speech, poetic speech, the lofty structures of Byron and the pedestal-worthy rants of Poe. Every now and then I'll dip into a book or watch a Shakespearean play and wonder: why don't people talk like that anymore?
I never got into the goth look and I'm too old for emo but I've always had dungeons in my heart. Those dungeons are a fun place to visit.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not into iron bars or rusty manacles. I prefer the long halls lit by wavering torch flame, the far-off skritters of unknown things, the echoes of dripping drips and scratchy scratches against cold stone. But most of all—I love the desperation.
Desperation is the purest emotion, the absolute essence of the human spirit. It beats hope in a foot race without breaking a sweat because whereas hope is blind, desperation has a goal, a focus, a reason for the drive.
And, sure, hope is a nice thing. No one survives without it. But sometimes I get tired of bouncing along, full of optimism, waiting for something. A big, nameless, something. On the other hand, desperation gets stuff done. Got a deadline? Tap into desperation and the job gets tackled. On the verge of losing the one you love? Desperation makes you step out of your safety zone and do what needs to be done to save that love. Without desperation, we'd drown in defeat and complacency.
Desperation is at work behind a lot of what I write. Now, I'm not normally a desperate person: I gots me a happy marriage, a wonderful if slightly nutty family, a double-fist of job security, and an overall fortunate life. But who writes about that stuff? Not the dark poets, that's for sure.
Sometimes I need help getting down to the dungeons so that I can tap those tales. Most of the time, I call on my muse: music.
Today's muse is Sebastian Bach of Skid Row fame…but I need to get something out of my system before I continue: THE HAIR.
Look. At. That. Hair. Twenty-some years later and I'm still trying to grow mine out like that. He has the hair of a god. Sweet Lawd A-mighty.
Anyways. The dungeon.
I popped in Slave to The Grind today because I was looking at shoes on the Victoria's Secret website. In case you can't see the connection, here it is:
Shoes-->heels-->stacked heels--> Stack heels kickin' rhythm-->Monkey Business. See? Logic at its finest.
I popped in the CD and immediately my tweener left the room. She's allergic to hair metal. (She's not adopted, either, so I can't figure that part out.) Lots of fun songs started to play—like the aforementioned Monkey Business and Slave to the Grind…but then the slower songs came on.
Wasted Time.
That song is an express elevator to the lowest levels of my dungeon complex. The desperation runs like a crystal spring there. The despair rings clear. The door opens and I find myself in a room I haven't visited in a long, long time.
I closed my eyes and let the song take me, unsure of what I tried to remember. You know how a song brings back a buried memory? I could feel it, digging closer to the surface and I almost didn't want to remember. I didn't know how much it would hurt.
Luckily, the song was over before I got any clear image. I don't know if I want to go back that far anymore. I like where I'm at. But…I know where my next project is going to be waiting for me.
There's another song on that album called Quicksand Jesus. Bach is the only guy who could sing that song. No one else would have done the desperation any justice.
Quicksand Jesus, I'm so far away without you. That's exactly how I feel when I'm down in my dungeon. So far away.
And it's not a bad thing, either. It gives me the room I need to turn those images into words.
Everyone has a muse, the magnet that pulls them closer to their stories. Care to share yours?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Remember to go to to enter the Creepfest Giveaway and go here to return to the Creepfest list.
December 13, 2011
Welcome to the Creepfest Blog Hop!
I know Christmas is right around the corner but I can't even think about that right now.
Yes, I have a tree to decorate and lights to string and cookies to make and presents to wrap. But Christmas, even with its shiny splendor, dulls in comparison with my shiny ARC.
I'm in the middle of proofing right now. I even took it to the Twelve-Twenty Four concert this weekend. It goes everywhere with me.
And soon it'll be released into the wild so that everyone else can carry it around. March 2012 is closer than you think.
That's why I'm going to transport all ya'll over to the page I set up for my book. Click here to go to the BLEEDING HEARTS page where you can enter some fabulous prizes. You'll find all the info you need to get your entries in.
And stop back on the weekend--I'll be doing a guest spot or two and you can get another chance to win ANOTHER prize! Why not? I've got Santa's pack right here so I may as well share the wealth.
What, officer? No, I haven't seen him since he left his pack with me. Don't worry about that noise coming from the basement. It's just the dog. That's right. The dog. Move along...
Yes, I have a tree to decorate and lights to string and cookies to make and presents to wrap. But Christmas, even with its shiny splendor, dulls in comparison with my shiny ARC.
I'm in the middle of proofing right now. I even took it to the Twelve-Twenty Four concert this weekend. It goes everywhere with me.
And soon it'll be released into the wild so that everyone else can carry it around. March 2012 is closer than you think.
That's why I'm going to transport all ya'll over to the page I set up for my book. Click here to go to the BLEEDING HEARTS page where you can enter some fabulous prizes. You'll find all the info you need to get your entries in.
And stop back on the weekend--I'll be doing a guest spot or two and you can get another chance to win ANOTHER prize! Why not? I've got Santa's pack right here so I may as well share the wealth.
What, officer? No, I haven't seen him since he left his pack with me. Don't worry about that noise coming from the basement. It's just the dog. That's right. The dog. Move along...
December 12, 2011
Season's Greetings, Blog Hoppers!
Welcome to my book page for BLEEDING HEARTS! As you can tell, I'm gearing up for the debut of my first urban fantasy. It's coming out in March 2012 through Pink Narcissus Press. Thanks for stopping by to help me spread the word.
As promised, I have a great giveaway to celebrate the Creepfest Blog Hop. It's easy to enter. Simply follow the instructions on the Rafflecopter widget to get your entries in! (And the requirements are easy, too.)
As promised, I have a great giveaway to celebrate the Creepfest Blog Hop. It's easy to enter. Simply follow the instructions on the Rafflecopter widget to get your entries in! (And the requirements are easy, too.)
'Twas The Night Before Creepfest...
The CREEPFEST BLOG HOP begins tomorrow. Hope you will join me and the three dozen other writers who are going to deck the halls with boughs of horror...
I'll have some prizes to give away and I'll even be hopping blogs myself--I've got some chimneys of my own to slide down for a guest appearance or two.
Just remember: the more blogs you visit, the more presents Santa Claws will bring you.
Now, try to get some sleep, children. Don't worry what Santa's elves are doing.
Tomorrow, it begins...
I'll have some prizes to give away and I'll even be hopping blogs myself--I've got some chimneys of my own to slide down for a guest appearance or two.
Just remember: the more blogs you visit, the more presents Santa Claws will bring you.
Now, try to get some sleep, children. Don't worry what Santa's elves are doing.
Tomorrow, it begins...
December 7, 2011
Twelve Days of Creepfest BLOG HOP!
It's that time again.
No, Beastie Boys fans, it's not time to get ill. It's BLOG HOP TIME. (Although I now have an overwhelming urge to dig out a certain CD. NO! SLEEP! TILL BROOKLYN!
I'll be participating in this year's Twelve Days of Creepfest Blog Hop. My Coffin Hop buddies and I had so much fun, we decided to keep it rolling.
Once more, I've developed a serious crush on the promo art. It seemed only fair to dedicate a post to my favorite banners. Livejournal seems to be a widget-hater and I can't really dress up my digs here. Thank goodness I can swipe some awesome graphics now and then.
Watch for the official posts to begin soon-- I'll have nifty gifties for my winningest peeps, so you'll want to come back for a chance to win them.
Want to be a participant? Visit the Twelve Days of Creepfest Blog Hop to sign up. The more, the scarier!
The Story of BLEEDING HEARTS: Book One of the Demimonde
Sophie Galen is saving the world...one damned person at a time.
BLEEDING HEARTS is the story of Sophie Galen, a shy advice columnist-turned-oracle who must save her demivampire lover from the fate that threatens each of his entire race: evolution and the loss of his soul.
BLEEDING HEARTS: Book One of the Demimonde is forthcoming with Pink Narcissus Press in March 2012.
BLEEDING HEARTS is the story of Sophie Galen, a shy advice columnist-turned-oracle who must save her demivampire lover from the fate that threatens each of his entire race: evolution and the loss of his soul.
Sophie Galen is a bleeding heart advice columnist whose work only brings more problems. Thanks to her innate compassion, her little internal voice, and her magnetic charm, Sophie really knows how to attract little black clouds.
Marek Thurzo is no little black cloud; he's a maelstrom. Marek is Demivampire, a race with the potential to evolve into vampire. A warrior who's taken his share of spiritual damage, he hovers dangerously close to destruction. He seeks salvation. She's driven to save him. But what if he can't be saved?
He's convinced Sophie can redeem him. He's convinced she can repair the damage to his soul and prevent his evolution. He's convinced she's the Sophia Oracle, the only salvation of the Demivampire.
She's convinced he's mistaken.
She senses Marek's otherworldly power and is stunned when her Sophia power emerges. Sophie becomes a manifesting force to be reckoned with, although the job description entails more action than her comfort zone can stand (and pays way less).
Everything plummets once the Master vampire and his Fallen take an interest. Marek is driven to the edge of hope, of sanity, of evolution. Can Sophie save him from Falling?
Sophie tells a story of compassion, courage, and redemption. Besides facing the same problems many women do—the adversary at work, the risk of falling in love—she must also endure supernatural trials as she encounters Werewolf assassins and Master vampires. Sophie just considers herself well-rounded. Thank goodness for her sense of humor—without it, she'd never have survived.
BLEEDING HEARTS: Book One of the Demimonde is forthcoming with Pink Narcissus Press in March 2012.
December 1, 2011
November 18, 2011
The ARC will soon sail...
...but here's the first picture.
Aren't they pretty?
Special thanks to my editor, Rose Mambert of Pink Narcissus Press, for this beautiful picture. Salut!
If anyone needs me, I'll be at my desk compiling a list of urban fantasy and paranormal book reviewers. I'm suddenly inspired to get some work done. :D
Aren't they pretty?
Special thanks to my editor, Rose Mambert of Pink Narcissus Press, for this beautiful picture. Salut!
If anyone needs me, I'll be at my desk compiling a list of urban fantasy and paranormal book reviewers. I'm suddenly inspired to get some work done. :D
November 9, 2011
November 3, 2011
National Novel Writing Month
November is Get That Demon Out Of Your Head Month, or NaNoWriMo for short. It's also a motivational project that inspires writers to get their books written. NaNoWriMo is free to sign up and offers a spot on the web for writers to connect to writing buddies, making this solitary endeavor a little less solitary. It's pretty much a book marathon--get 50,000 words out by the end of the month and you win. Yay!
This is my first year doing the NaNo thing. I'm username AshKrafton if anyone wants to buddy up.
I'm using NaNo as an opportunity to organize my WIP "Words That Bind," a paranormal romance involving a licensed clinical social worker and a genie who is searching for his talisman (and a way to deal with his overbearing mother. Wackiness ensues.) I've entered the opening pages and synopsis into several contests and got great feedback--as well as a prize or three--so I know it's a project worth completing. I've just lacked the proper motivation.
Until now.
Since I work dayjob every other day, I will augment my daily writing with an equal word count of text already written. So, the more new stuff I get down, the more old stuff I can slip in on my non-writing days. That's how I'm going to get this book done.
I've been planning the book for months--researching proper form of romance novel structure, making a story board, arranging climactic scenes, creating conflicts and character dimension--but I haven't written anything to bring it all together.
Then I sat down yesterday, stack of looseleaf and a purple pen, and I wrote 1500 shiny new words. I broke my frozen standstill. I moved forward. I got back to writing this book.
Thanks, NaNoWriMo. I am a winner already.
This is my first year doing the NaNo thing. I'm username AshKrafton if anyone wants to buddy up.
I'm using NaNo as an opportunity to organize my WIP "Words That Bind," a paranormal romance involving a licensed clinical social worker and a genie who is searching for his talisman (and a way to deal with his overbearing mother. Wackiness ensues.) I've entered the opening pages and synopsis into several contests and got great feedback--as well as a prize or three--so I know it's a project worth completing. I've just lacked the proper motivation.
Until now.
Since I work dayjob every other day, I will augment my daily writing with an equal word count of text already written. So, the more new stuff I get down, the more old stuff I can slip in on my non-writing days. That's how I'm going to get this book done.
I've been planning the book for months--researching proper form of romance novel structure, making a story board, arranging climactic scenes, creating conflicts and character dimension--but I haven't written anything to bring it all together.
Then I sat down yesterday, stack of looseleaf and a purple pen, and I wrote 1500 shiny new words. I broke my frozen standstill. I moved forward. I got back to writing this book.
Thanks, NaNoWriMo. I am a winner already.
