Delilah S. Dawson's Blog

A Definitive Guide to Delilah S. Dawson Books

ADULT WORKS

If you like:

Hannibal

Cottagecore

Sapphic love stories

Then try BLOOM!

If you like:

Cathartic stories of women fighting the patriarchy

Violent thrillers

Pro wrestling

Then try: THE VIOLENCE!

If you like:

·       Buffy the Vampire Slayer

·       Westerns

·       A found family

Then try: WAKE OF VULTURES (written as Lila Bowen)!

If you like:

·       Star Wars!

·       Mad Max: Fury Road

·       Seeing a violent woman get the screen time she deserves

Then try: STAR WARS: PHASMA!

If you like:

·       Star Wars!

·       Learning more about Galaxy’s Edge at Disney World/Land

·       Brooklyn 99 in space

Then try: STAR WARS GALAXY’S EDGE: BLACK SPIRE!

If you like:

·       Star Wars and violent women!

·       The Clone Wars era and the Inquisitors

·       Watching a good Jedi fall

Then try: STAR WARS INQUISITOR: RISE OF THE RED BLADE!

If you like:

·       Terry Pratchett

·       High Fantasy, but woke

·       Puns, puns, puns!

Then try: KILL THE FARM BOY (written with Kevin Hearne!)

If you like:

·       Vampires

·       Steampunk

·       Romance

Then try: WICKED AS THEY COME (and the Blud series)!

YA Works

If you like:

Sleep No More and Shakespeare’s The Tempest

Sweet, first YA Romance

Speakeasies and legerdemain

Then try: MIDNIGHT AT THE HOUDINI!

If you like:

·       Disney characters

·       Video games

·       Fantasy adventure with a hint of horror

Then try: DISNEY MIRRORVERSE: PURE OF HEART!

If you like:

·       Southern Horror set in Savannah

·       Demons and abandoned amusement parks

·       Love triangles

Then try: SERVANTS OF THE STORM!

If you like:

·       Dystopian thrillers

·       Fat Labrador retrievers

·       Enemies to lovers

Then try: HIT (and STRIKE)!

MIDDLE GRADE WORKS

If you like:

·       Scary haunted houses

·       Hoarders

·       Drama kids with drama

Then try: MINE!

If you like:

·       Creepy haunted sleep away camps

·       Issues stories about bullying and neurodivergence

·       Stories that get DARK

Then try: CAMP SCARE!

If you like:

·       Minecraft!

·       The Goonies, but modernized

·       Found family adventures

Then try: MINECRAFT MOB SQUAD (and its 2 sequels!)

 

We Regret to Inform You That The Pellet Jar is Empty

Here’s the thing: Now is not an easy time to be an author.

Now is not an easy time to be anything.

Today I was caught in a maelstrom of Imposter Syndrome, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, Do My Friends Hate Me Or Am I Just Hormonal, and Oh God, Oh God, Is Publishing Dead, and it turns out I’m not alone. Several people on Blue Sky were trapped in this same churning hurricane of anxiety, and Tobias Buckell linked this wonderful article he wrote on the topic back in 2018, which I still think of as The Good Old Days.

And it got me thinking.

If you read the article, you’ll see that he references a scientific experiment in which a pigeon pushes a lever and is rewarded with a food pellet. The pigeon learns the relationship between the lever and the pellet quickly, and all is well. Yay, pellets.

But then those clever scientists introduce a variable reinforcement schedule, meaning that pressing the lever doesn’t always produce a pellet. The pigeons drive themselves mad trying to figure out the new rule and replicate whatever actions brought the last pellet into their lives. They push the lever endlessly and do silly dances while they starve to death, always waiting on that next pellet. And this is how it feels sometimes, when your process no longer works— including the creative process, and including the process by which we connect with the world.

But then it occurred to me—not only are we all pigeons gone mad, pressing the lever and begging the pigeon gods for sustenance. We also have to contend with the fact that social media used to provide dopamine, and now it mostly causes pain. Meaning not only is there no pellet… but sometimes you get a mild electric shock when you hit that lever.

When I discovered social media back in 2009 or so, it was a constant source of happiness. Connecting with old friends, joining new communities, making new pals, discovering exciting new realms. Facebook was a reunion, Twitter was Cheers, Instagram was a museum. There was no algorithm—whoever was awake, whatever they were doing, it just showed up in your feed if you’d chosen to follow them. And it was beautiful.

And then, like most beautiful things, it got monetized. And it began to suck. And now here we are, being force fed pablum by billionaires while our friends are hidden from us, being sold products when we want to see art, being forced to endure a fire hose of wealth and success while we silently cry in isolation thinking that we are alone. That we’re the only one who can’t quite figure out how to make all their dreams come true.

Or maybe it’s just me?

I’m a neurodivergent introvert, and social media was a miracle for me. It allowed me to hack my introversion, to make friends in a safe place online so that when I met them in real life, they didn’t seem so intimidating. Social media taught me how to write a book and edit a book and get published. Social media gave me a way to spread news about my books and events. Social media allowed me to connect with my first readers.

And now… it doesn’t really do that.

When I go to that well for a deep, nutritive drink, I see advertised strangers, or upsetting news, or fake news, or the meteoric success of celebrities and outliers that can’t be replicated. My friends are scattered, or at least not online as often. I post, and it feels like screaming into a void. Views are down, likes are down. I don’t even know which of my friends and followers are still there and which ones have left their accounts active to avoid squatters while effectively abandoning ship. That sense of connection I loved so much has been lost.

And I don’t have a good answer for you.

For you, or for me.

I don’t know how to reach people anymore.

I posted a book cover on Twitter yesterday, a book cover I’ve been sharing for months, and dozens of people replied that they had never seen it before. I sent out a newsletter, but every time I send a newsletter, that old sense of doubt creeps in—that I’m annoying people by jamming their already-full Inboxes with spam. I’m an author, and I need to tell people about my books, but how? There is no central place. No one source. People and attention are scattered. Tarzan has let go of one vine, but there is no new vine to grab.

No wonder it feels like a free fall.

All I can tell you is that if you feel alone, you’re not. We’re all here with you, many of us confused and anxious and fairly certain that we’re missing out on some fabulous party that’s always happening somewhere else… and that the world is on fire. When I feel this way—disconnected, doubting, burned out—I find solace in my art and in my friends. Nothing can take the joy of writing away from me, and it’s hard to feel disconnected when you’re literally connecting with someone else. Going to conventions and writing retreats has done more for me in the past year than social media. As it turns out, it was always about the people, and the people are still there. You just have to do things the old fashioned way—and be present without the app. For me, the app has become the problem.

To put it in pigeon terms, once you stop focusing on the pellet machine, you remember the bird feeder. And the bushes full of berries. And the ground full of worms.

So, in conclusion: keep reading, keep writing, you’re not alone, reach out to a friend, go out and live life in the moment without all these stupid algorithms, and buy my books.

How to Write IP. Yes, like Star Wars

IP stands for Intellectual Property. It refers to any world you didn’t create— Star Wars, Star Trek, even worlds by other fiction authors, like Charlaine Harris’s Sookie Stackhouse books. Legally, you can’t write in these worlds and get paid for it, so the only way to officially write in your favorite IP sandbox is to get an invite.

But how?

First of all, writing IP isn’t about who loves the property more. It’s not about who has memorized every ship name or speaks Klingon the best. It’s nearly impossible to write in a world that you don’t love, that you haven’t internalized, for which you don’t know all the vocabulary and machinations, but this is not a situation in which The Biggest Fan automatically gets to write the book.

So here’s the key: In general, in order to write for a big IP, you need 3-10 years as a traditionally published author with a reputation for being fast and easy to work with. You must be able to craft an excellent 100,000-word book in three months or less. You must be pleasant to work with, have a great attitude, respond to criticism well, and be able to roll with the punches.

Publishing won’t change for you. The deadlines and schedule won’t change for you.

If you can’t work under those conditions, you can’t write IP.

So I have to be a traditionally published author and follow all these steps, eh? Are there exceptions to that rule?

Sure! But I can’t teach you how to grow up next to the publishing manager for The Walking Dead or accidentally save George Lucas from a runaway train. I can’t tell you which game studio to work for so that you can slide sideways into the fiction portion of the property. I also can’t tell you how to craft such a stunning career as an indie author that they come knocking on your door. All I can do is assure you that the vast majority of IP writers I know got here by building their own writing career, networking widely, and then exhibiting interest in their chosen IP.

So, let’s say you have multiple years as a successful traditionally published writer. How do you make the jump to IP? For me, I asked my agent to reach out to Star Wars editors with my completed works that showed I had the chops for high adventure and in-depth character. I tweeted about it, and several acquaintances who’ve written for Star Wars offered to mention me. For my first IP, I started smaller, writing in the Shadowman universe for Amazon’s now defunct Kindle Worlds initiative. I was also fortunate in that the editor who purchased my very first series is now a Star Wars editor, so I already had someone on the team who liked my work.

You need a body of work + a solid reputation + a little networking luck + a love of and familiarity with the property.

Can you replicate exactly that scenario? Probably not, but there are several things you can do to tip the scales in your favor.

Most importantly, focus on your craft, on writing great books quickly and using edits to really level up your work.

Just as importantly, build relationships—with other authors, with your editors, and with your entire publishing team. Publishing is a small industry, and if you treat people badly or pitch a hissyfit, they will talk. And, please, be genuine when you’re networking— take a real interest in the folks you’re meeting. People can often tell if you’re just being friendly because you want to use them as a rung on the ladder to your dreams. If you just met me five minutes ago, maybe don’t ask me to introduce you to my Star Wars editors.

If you want to write for something as big as Star Wars, start smaller. There are tons of IP projects looking for new writers. Look at your favorite video games and movie franchises. Have your agent approach the editors in their IP department. Ask around your author friends to see if they have any connections.

What if you’re unagented and unpublished and unsure where to start? Well, first of all, read my timeless thread on how to become a traditionally published author, which is NSFW but hopefully helpful. Everything you’ll learn writing, editing, and querying a book will contribute to the skill set that will help you find success writing IP. You’ll find your process, learn to accept rejection and criticism, and gain confidence in your skills. Every word you write helps. Every time you file a rejection and send out a new query makes you stronger.

Being a writer is not an overnight thing; most ‘overnight successes’ I know wrote for many years and received hundreds of rejections and worked through huge setbacks before you ever heard of them. Need resources on your publishing journey? Check the For Writers tab at the top of my website for the books and sources that helped me.

Know that writing IP is not easy. Writing is not an easy process or career, and success is not a straight line—it’s very jagged, with high highs, low lows, and, often, cases of burnout. IP brings its own unique challenges.

Since it’s not your world, you’re not in charge. Some of your ideas will be shot down, and some of your words will be cut. It’s not personal; everything serves the property, not your heart. The timeline is quick, and because publishing is mercurial, you might have to work even faster than anticipated. I once lost a 14 page outline we’d spent weeks on and just had to turn it around with a smile and new pitches the next day. I’ve had to turn around copy edits in a weekend, I’ve spent fancy dinners texting about revisions, I’ve had to make sweeping changes at the drop of a hat when I was on vacation. If you’re not ready to accept that an IP book is not your baby and that you’re a contractor, not a creator, it’s probably not the ideal goal for you.

And remember: Most writing success is a combination of skill + time on task + luck over time. So the longer you work, the more you level up your skills, the more time you spend focusing on publishing, the better your chances that luck will strike. You can’t succeed as a writer without those four elements.

Let me know if you have any questions! I lost a lot of my previous Twitter threads on writing, so I’m happy to write posts like this if you would find them helpful. Of course, I haven’t queried in the slush pile since 2010, so I might not be the best resource for the ‘how do I get an agent’ crowd.

And, as always, YMMV. My way is not the only way. Every journey is different. There are outliers, but I can’t teach you how to be one. All my advice comes from a cisgender, heteronormative, straight white lady who started out querying from her couch as a stay at home mom, so your difficulty setting may be higher or lower. Good luck!

Lily pads

So let’s say you’ve followed an OOH.

Which is not an acronym but a feeling. Say it: OOH!, with an uptick. That’s how it feels.

What do you do with the OOH?

Is it an idea seed? Is it a little nudge telling you a change might be needed in your life?

Most of mine are idea seeds, and my next task is to feel them out. I see this process as crossing a pond using lily pads.

Picture it: Monet’s pond, the water a deep, velvety peacock green. Fat, glossy lily pads are strewn across the surface, seemingly solid. But let’s say only some of them can hold you up. You need to get across this pond. So you tentatively touch your toe to a promising lily pad. Does it feel right, or does it wobble? Does it pull you or repel you or leave you indifferent? Find a solid lily pad. Put your weight on it. This is now your path. Find another one.

By the way—in this metaphor, you are a frog, so you don’t need to fear falling in.

In more practical terms, you have one OOH, and you need to find the next OOH. Beefing up a story idea is a process that involves both mind and body. The right path will feel right. You say if this… then that? And if you feel another OOH, followed by YES, THEN, you’ll know you’re on your way.

The worst thing to do here, in my experience, is the sort of brainstorming they taught us back in school. If you pull out your whiteboard and make a list of one hundred different lily pads or whether you should reinvent the bridge and consider wood costs between two sawmills and then debate yourself all day, you’re losing precious sunshine. This process is intuitive and instinctive. Your first answer is often your best answer—that’s why your subconscious hurled it at you. Perhaps consider a few other choices, but it is rare in the creative process that your hundredth answer is the golden one. Worst, a list like that makes you doubt yourself. With so many choices, how could you ever select the right one, the perfect one that would begin the perfect path that would lead to the perfect piece of art?

That kind of doubt is a dreamkiller.

There is no perfect path. There is no perfect art.

You simply begin by making one choice, and it informs the next choice, and you follow that path to the end.

So just pick a solid lily pad that makes you go OOH and then look for the next lily pad.

Children do this naturally, but somewhere along the line, they taught us to make decision trees, to work in a group and let the loudest person win. They taught us not to listen to our OOH and our gut. Screw that. Your gut knows what’s right. Its OOH might be quite small and tentative at first, but the you more you listen, the more you trust it, the more firm it will become. Your subconscious is your greatest ally in the creative realm. It thinks when you’re not thinking, connecting the dots while your brain is occupied elsewhere. You might not know why you know what you know, but you can trust it.

This is the part where you discover that your Muse, that fickle and dancing thing, is already inside you—it just might be quiet after a lifetime of being silenced.

Listen. Step on a lily pad. Step on the next lily pad. That path is your journey.

Follow the OOH

(Starting a new series on the blog where I’m going to do daily bites on the relationship between writing, creativity, and self-help. Let me know in the comments if you dig it!)

You know what the OOH is, but you might not know you know it.

The OOH is how you felt as a kid when you circled the thing you really wanted in the Sears Christmas catalog.

The OOH is when the limited edition ice cream just so happens to be your very favorite flavor.

The OOH is when you meet someone and immediately know you’re going to be great friends.

The OOH is a bright red cardinal singing against the backdrop of a gray, rainy day.

The OOH is when the wind shifts and you smell flowers.

The OOH is when you’re at a concert and the band plays the opening notes of your favorite song.

The OOH is that little lift in your chest that makes your whole body perk up as if there’s a string attached to the top of your head, and you sit up and pay attention.

The OOH is when you’re scanning through the radio and finally get a signal…

Except that you are the radio and the signal is some message that resonates with you.

When people ask pro writers how they find ideas, they all give different answers, but it all boils down to the OOH, to something that makes them stop what they’re doing and tune in to whatever the universe is saying.

Sometimes it’s a visual, sometimes it’s a snippet of dialogue, sometimes it’s something half-remembered from a dream. The OOH is a butterfly, floating in and out of the trees up ahead, and it’s up to you to catch it.

And on its own, the OOH is a pleasant enough feeling, but it’s not useful unless you recognize it, hug it close, and explore it. You have to crack open the geode. You have to fan the flames. You have to follow the white rabbit, even if he runs through brambles and mud. The OOH is a gift, but what you do with it is up to you.

But how do you recognize the OOH?

First your brain will ping. You’ll think—OOH! Your body will feel it, too. You might smile, cock your head, lean forward, perk up, take a few steps. Your chest will lift, maybe even feel warm or bright or like you can take a bigger breath than usual. You might blink. Your eyes will feel bright. You’ll smile.

It’s that childlike wonder, that sense that there’s something amazing to discover. Once we’re in school, we’re trained to ignore it because it’s disruptive. You might feel the ping, but the teacher barrels on and takes no questions, or you squeak out your question and get a dull answer, or someone makes fun of you for… caring? Yeah, I don’t get it either. But at some point, if you neglect it enough, the OOH gets very quiet. We celebrate it in babies and toddlers and squash it in talkative kids and ignore it in adults who should be working instead.

It’s up to you to reclaim it. To listen very hard for that ping. To pay attention. To spend less time zoned out on social media or binge-watching TV and more time staring into space or going for walks outside. It’s easier to hear that ping when there’s less busyness, when you’re neither numb nor focused. Sometimes it whispers in busy airports or amid the frenetic rumble of a coffee shop crowd or in the line at Disney, but sometimes it arrives in the shower or at the gym or while you’re nursing the baby or lying in bed, trying to go to sleep.

If you haven’t felt the OOH in a while, your first task is to start listening. To feel for it. To recognize it.

To let that excitement infect you.

Your next task is to make the choice to follow it. More on that tomorrow.

The OOH is just the beginning.

2020 Joy Exchange Initiative

Want a little more joy in your 2020? Me, too. So here’s what I’ll do.

If you send me something nice for my bulletin board— a postcard saying something nice, a quote you like, a little sketch or piece of artwork, a tiny piece of embroidery, an origami crane, a note— I’ll send you a signed bookplate *OR* one of my rad Jane Austen postcards with a little quote/kind word in exchange. Here’s what you have to do:

Mail me something. Anything! As long as it’s positive, kind, uplifting, pretty.

Address: Delilah Dawson, PO Box 2223, Lutz FL 33548

On whatever you send, let me know if you’d like a bookplate or postcard. Make sure I can find/read your address. If it’s a bookplate, I’ll write it TO: YOUR FIRST NAME unless otherwise specified and sign it Delilah S. Dawson. You can also have it signed by Lila Bowen, if it’s for the Wake books. Just let me know ON THE THING YOU SENT.

Let’s not do any of this online or email. Let me know what you want on the actual thing you send, ok? I can’t fight a war on two fronts, even a war of kindness.

That’s it. Here’s to a little more joy in our mailboxes!

Note: I just ordered bookplates today, so it might take a week for me to mail you one. Postcards are ready now.

Also: Please don’t send food. I have several food allergies. And no live animals, although taxidermy and bones are totally my jam. International is ok, too.

Best Brownies Ever (gluten free, but you'll never know!)

So… long time, no blog. But social media is getting me down, so here we are. I’m going to start by giving you the recipe for the best brownies I’ve ever had in my entire life. And they’re gluten free, but you can’t tell when you eat them, which is important.

BEST BROWNIES EVER

Brownies:

1/2c Kerrygold Irish butter

1c white sugar

2 eggs

1t vanilla extract

1/3c Hershey’s Special Dark Cocoa

1/2c flour (I use Bob’s Red Mill 1-to-1 baking flour)

1/4t sea salt

1/4t baking powder

3/4c Ghirardelli Semi-Sweet Morsels

Frosting:

5T Kerrygold Irish butter

5T Hershey’s Special Dark Cocoa Powder

1t vanilla extract

2T milk (I used 2% Lactaid milk because ugh)

1.5c powdered sugar

Instructions:

PreHeat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour 8x8 pan.

For Brownies, melt butter, stir in sugar, eggs, and vanilla extract.

Whisk in cocoa, flour, salt, and baking powder until just mixed.

Stir in 3/4c Ghirardelli Semi Sweet morsels.

Bake 25-30 minutes. Err on the tiniest bit uncooked. Do not overbake!

For the Frosting, melt butter, beat in cocoa, add vanilla and milk. Whip until creamy using a mixer.

Add powdered sugar 1/4c at a time and whip until— well, it won’t get fluffy, but you want it to have some body. I whipped it for maybe 3 minutes.

Cool the brownies for an hour before frosting. If you frost when they’re still a bit warm, the frosting melts in just a little bit and makes them super fudgy.

Note: I’ve made this recipe with regular All Purpose flour, and they worked fine. I’ve made them with regular cocoa powder, and it was fine, but using the Special Dark (which my local Target carries) makes them incredibly deep and fudgy. I always use Kerrygold Irish Butter, too. So if you make this recipe exactly as the recipe states, it’s going to be incredibly fudgy, chewy, and delicious. If you substitute regular flour, regular cocoa, regular butter, and off-brand milk chocolate chips, you’re going to get a very different brownie, but probably still a pretty good one. Also, they’re GREAT after some time in the fridge!

By the way, is social media getting you down, too? Would you like to see a return to blogging instead of Tweet threads on writing and self-care? Do you like recipes? I kinda miss blogs. Let me know!

All Books Need Editing: How to Work with an Editor in Traditional Publishing

How to get more sleep, especially for writers and creatives.

Step 1: Get a box. Step 2: Put a gator in the box.

Raise your hand if you have trouble getting asleep and staying asleep.

Me, too!

But I just turned around my entire sleep experience, and I'm going to share it with you. Now, let's remember that despite this nice lab coat, I am not a doctor. And let's also recall that everyone's unique chemistry is totally weird, so what works for me might not work for you. So check with a doctor or at least the Drug Interactions page on drugs.com before suing me, mkay?

My main problem has always been that I have trouble getting my brain to quiet down at night. I'll just lie in bed, listening to my heart beat increasingly fast, pretty sure I'm about to die while running through story ideas, wardrobe changes, and to do lists in my head. Then I wake up at 2am and can't get back to sleep. And it sucks.

So here's what I did:

1. Wean yourself off sleep meds.

For a long time, I've taken Unisom Sleep Tabs, about half of one a night and a full one at cons. It allowed me to catch up on all my sleep debt from having kids, but as time went on, I felt increasingly addicted to it while knowing that it wasn't good for me. So I weaned myself from a half to a quarter, and now I'm going from a quarter to an eighth. So remember that if you use meds to sleep, you won't want to go cold turkey.

2. No writing/art after 5pm.

Yes, if I'm on a hardcore deadline, sometimes I have to break this rule. But now that I wake up between 6 and 7, I have two extra hours of sharpness in the morning. Point is, even if I allow myself to check email or surf social media sites (which I'm also trying to cut down on), I don't save the writing work for nighttime. It just spins up my brain, and then I can't shut it down on my own.

3. Listen to binaural beats.

I think this one is the game changer. I downloaded an app on my phone called Brain Waves, and it has several sessions of binaural beats related to things like relaxing, creativity, focus, and, hallelujah, sleep. You just get your headphones or earbuds, listen to 15 minutes of weird tones, and it lures your brain into sleepy brainwaves instead of letting it stay keyed up on creative ones. You're supposed to meditate while you listen, but that made me feel like a cat trapped in a box, so I watch The Great British Baking Show reruns on mute with subtitles.

I listen around 9pm with plans to sleep around 10.

4. Go to bed at the same time every night.

At 10pm, I'm in bed and ready to go. I haven't lasted past 10:30 since I started this regime, which is a wonder.

5. Wake up early.

So I used to try to sleep in until 9 or 10 every day to make up for my massive sleep debt. But now I pop awake at 6 or 7 every morning and get going. If I was sleeping until 10am, no wonder I was staying awake until 2am, right? Bodies generally want around 8 hours of sleep. Duh.

6. Get bright light in the morning.

When you wake up at 6 or 7, it's usually not bright and sunny, so I sit in front of my SAD light for half an hour or more. If I'm working, I'll keep it on all morning. Turns out I'm solar powered. Who knew?

7. Try relaxing supplements (of the legal kind).

It turns out that there are several herbs known to have a calming, anti-stress effect. Lemon balm, passionflower, chamomile, skullcap, rhodiola, to name a few. I read a book on adrenal fatigue that basically described my life and decided to work in some rhodiola in the morning and lemon balm in the afternoon. I don't know how much it contributes, but the whole thing seems to be working, and teas are nice.

I also pay attention to my magnesium intake and will drink Natural Calm or take an epsom salt bath every night.

8. Cut out caffeine.

Again, maybe don't go cold turkey. I'm super sensitive to caffeine, and if I have any after 11am, I'll be awake until 2am. These days, I don't do any caffeine unless I'm at a con. Even a cup of green tea with 50mg caffeine will make it harder for me to fall asleep. Screw you, caffeine. Oh, and if you still need something hot at breakfast, try Crio Bru. It's made of cocoa beans. I drink it every morning and love it.

And I'm not drinking alcohol a lot, either. Chemicals, man.

9. Get the buy-in of your housemates.

It's kind of weird to decide one day to make sleep a priority, and you need to let the people around you know what you need. Having a new schedule has been a big change for me, but I'm loving it.

10. Don't beat yourself up when you fall off the wagon.

At a con, forget all this. If you get more than 4 hours of sleep, you're doing fine. It's also going to get messed up when you're sick, on deadline, or struck by a story idea. That's fine. Just get back on schedule when you can.

These days, I go to sleep at 10:30 with none of the ol' frantic, panicky thoughts. I wake up at 2am and go right back to sleep. I pop awake between 6 and 7 feeling refreshed and ready. I can't believe it took me this long to get the equation right. And I haven't had a single nightmare.

I want that for you, too.

Sleep long and prosper!

What does SHOW DON'T TELL mean?

TELL: There is a Wampa behind Delilah and Chuck.

SHOW: OMG CHUCK WHAT IS THAT SMELL WHERE DID ALL THIS BLOOD COME FROM