R.J. Blain's Blog, page 77

Winter Wolf Preorder Available!

The Hunted Wizard

When Nicole dabbled in the occult, she lost it all: Her voice, her family, and her name. Now on the run from the Inquisition, she must prove to herself—and the world—that not all wizards are too dangerous to let live.

The savage murder of a bookstore employee throws Nicole into the middle of Inquisition business, like it or not. Driven by her inability to save the young man’s life, she decides to hunt the killer on her own. Using forbidden magic to investigate the past, she learns that the murderer is in fact a disease that could kill the entire werewolf race.

Forced to choose between saving lives and preserving her own, Nicole embraces the magic that sent her into exile. Without werewolves, the power of the Inquisition would dwindle, and she could live without being hunted.

Nicole’s only hope for success lies in the hands of the werewolves she hates and the Inquisition she fears, but finding someone to trust is only the beginning of her problems. There are those who want to ensure that the werewolves go extinct and that the Inquisition falls.

But, if she fails to find a cure, her family—including her twin sister—will perish…

Available to preorder on Amazon and at the iTunes Store.

Preorders coming soon for Kobo, Scribd, and Nook.

Random Rambles: Depression, the Silent Killer

With the death of Robin Williams today, depression has once again come into the spotlight. I won’t go into the many reasons Mr. Williams’ death has impacted me. It has, and that’s all that needs to be said.

It was common knowledge that Mr. Williams was a troubled man who struggled with addiction and depression. His suicide didn’t surprise me, and that’s a terrible thing to say.

I understand, which is also a terrible thing to say.

Depression is a silent killer, smothering the voice of its victims. It is something too many are mocked for struggling with. It’s an illness, but a misunderstood one. Those who medicate for it are shunned. Those who don’t are scorned as they fight the battle against their silent killers.

And then those left behind are confused when those victims lose that war. Some mourn, some stay quiet, and other scorn.

Most victims are written off and forgotten.

But then comes along someone like Robin Williams, who reminds us in the harshest, saddest way possible that the Silent Killer, named Depression, is among those who have the magic to touch other lives, bringing laughter and joy.

I hope you rest well, Mr. Williams, and whatever awaits you is full of the laughter and joy that you brought to so many others.

And I wish we could have given that laughter and joy back to you when you needed it the most.

You will not be forgotten.

Nor shall the silent killer who did you in.

For more information on how you can get help, you can use the following resources:

The National Suicide Prevention Hotline
Suicide Action Montreal (Local to me)

Mostly Importantly, YOU. If you see a friend or loved on struggling with depression, YOU can help. Here’s how: Talk to them. If they tell you they’re suffering from depression, don’t judge them. Offer them support.

If necessary, INTERVENE. Those resources above are available for ANYONE dealing with suicide–you need not be the one suffering.

Ask for help.

Don’t suffer alone.

Don’t let others suffer alone.

Rest well, Robin.

The Eye of God – Free on Amazon Until August 12, 2014

On Friday, I released The Eye of God on Amazon for free for a five day period. I hadn’t announced it on my website, mainly due to the fact I’ve been really busy for the past few days.

I’m sorry about that. I’ve been neglectful!

I have usually had a fairly notable stance about giving away books for free. I worked really hard on my first novel. But, after a lot of consideration, and having had it released an entire year, I decided that there was no harm in doing so.

After all, I’m not going to lose sales when the book isn’t selling, you know? Both The Eye of God and Storm Without End do not sell many copies at all. One or two, sometimes a few extra, each month. Which is a disappointment for me, but I’ll keep writing those series because I love the stories. I want to tell them.

So I will.

Even if it means I lose money on them for a while. Who knows? Maybe these novels will find their audience. Maybe they won’t.

But I’ll be happy I wrote them.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the novel as much I as loved writing it.

Random Rambles: Fighting with Weight Loss

I hate feeling fat.

When I started actively trying to take back control of my life and my eating habits, my scale informed me I was barely beneath 190 pounds.

I am 5’3″-5’4″ tall. I have a fairly bony build; by this, I mean I have a more robust bone structure than some others. I’m not nail thin, I’m not gargantuan. I’m not your rail thin model type.

Not anymore.

When I was 12, I weighed 116 pounds. I weighed between 100 and 120 up until age 18. I consumed many, many thousands of calories per day due to a hypermetabolism issue.

That went away at 18.

I gained weight extremely fast at this point, skyrocketing to where I was when I looked at the scale a few weeks ago:

Almost 190 pounds.

A healthy weight for me would be around 120-130, depending on how much muscle I manage to add. I’m not expecting a lot in the muscular department, truth be told.

But 190 confirmed what I was feeling. Unhealthy. Fat.

No, I do not want to hear a single word about how I shouldn’t be worried about my body image, and how I shouldn’t worry about being fat or overweight. I feel unhealthy because I’m fat. My immune system doesn’t function properly. I struggle to walk and exercise. It puts undue stress on my joints. It makes me hurt.

Being fat is not healthy, and I am going to come up front and tell the truth: I’m fat.

I don’t want to be this way. I’m tired of my pants not fitting right. I’m tired of having a gut that feels uncomfortable. I am uncomfortable in my own skin.

I don’t feel well. All of the time.

And it is all because I’m overweight.

Society tries to tell me that I shouldn’t worry about my body image; all women, all bodies are beautiful.

Great for the self-esteem.

Terrible for my health.

What I do with my body is my choice. If others do not mind the health consequences of being overweight, that is their choice. I wish them well, and that they enjoy good health. The same applies in reverse; if they want to lose weight, as I do, because they feel unhealthy, they are unhealthy, and want to change… I wish them well. And good luck.

We’ll both need it.

I think one of the hardest things I’ve had to face is the acceptance that I am fat and that this is unacceptable to me.

I am fat, and I don’t have to be.

So I decided to change, and I have.

Today, I got on my scale, fully clothed, apprehensive.

Today, I weighed 172.6 pounds.

Today, I weighed myself after I ate lunch. 

I don’t weigh myself at the same time every day. I prefer to hop on the scale as I see it, staring that little number right in the eyes.

It’s a number, yes, but it’s also a goal. It’s a motivation.

It’s a reminder.

My scale is located right in front of my refrigerator. By that, I mean, I can’t open it without stepping on it or around it. It’s purposefully under foot–so I remember to put it under my feet and look at what I’m trying to do for myself.

Depression actually helped me lose some of this weight. It suppressed my appetite. It made it easier for me to say no to food. It wasn’t a good way to start, but it was a start.

At my lowest point, I weighed 168. That was after depression had me moping around, and my willpower and motivation was so lacking I didn’t eat anything for a few days. Being honest about that hurts, but it’s a consequence and impact of depression.

Food and depression go hand in hand. Some people eat. Some people don’t. Some people remain the same–sometimes. Some people don’t eat because they feel they don’t deserve basic necessities, that they aren’t good enough. Some people eat, because the pleasure of their taste buds is something worth living for.

Some of us, like me, just can’t bring ourselves to make the effort. It’s too hard to want to be bothered. That was the worst downward spiral in my fight with depression–when I wasn’t capable of fighting at all.

But I got back up, and my scale became my sword.

Today, I had a tomato for lunch, with some basil I picked from my window. I added olive oil, because I enjoy olive oil. I added a sprig of green onion, which I also grew in my window.

The tomato came from my garden.

And as a glorious reward to myself, I added some deliciously salty lemon and herb space.

I ate a single tomato, and I felt full.

Weight loss isn’t just a battle with a scale. It’s a changing of a lifestyle. It’s breaking free from the dependency of food in volume, and enjoying food in quality.

Without guilt. Without overeating.

Yesterday, I had an entire small pizza, loaded with my favorite toppings, because I had been eating so reasonably well. It was an indulgence. A reward.

A pleasure.

I had a grilled cheese and a small pizza the entire day.

Today, I didn’t feel the need to gorge. I enjoyed my tomato, which I grew myself.

And I won. Today, the victory is mine.

My scale doesn’t say 189 or 190.

It says 172 and change. The war goes on, but for once, I’m not losing. I’m holding my ground. I’m accomplishing things.

Weight loss can be done… but there are no easy ways out. It takes self control. Dedication. Desire. A will to change an entire lifestyle, not just reach a goal and relapse.

But it comes with rewards.

My knee doesn’t hurt quite as much as it did a month or two ago, and while it still pains me a bit, I can move around. I ran to the door twice today.

I ran.

It wasn’t far, but two months ago, I couldn’t run anywhere, let alone across the house in a mad dash to answer the door.

What I did before was kind of like this horrific little zombie shuffle.

Moving doesn’t hurt as much now.

It may only be 18 pounds to you, but to me, it’s freedom.

I ran.

Random Rambles: A Brave New World – Full-Time Writing

As I posted earlier today, as soon as my contracts are finished, I will be ceasing my work as an editor, with a few rare exceptions. I suppose, considering 2/3rds of my time was occupied with editorial work, I was a full-time editor rather than a hopeful novelist.

This won’t happen until January 2015, but I’m already feeling the relief from no longer having to edit. It’s liberating. I’m going to spend the same energy and enthusiasm as always on my clients, but in 2015, I’ll be working for myself first of all, and editorial as a beloved side project… not as the support and lifeblood of my novels.

I’ll still edit for a few clients, those who are understanding of my true career choice, and are flexible enough to work around my schedule. But it won’t be the soul-sucking job it has been lately. Don’t misunderstand me; I have enjoyed editing. It’s a great job.

But it’s a creative job, and I’ve given so much of myself to others that I haven’t had a lot left for me. That’s a huge problem. When I can’t write because I’ve exhausted myself working for my clients, it isn’t going to work. When the basement disaster happened, I dealt with that, and worked for my clients.

I didn’t write anything for me.

I wanted to release four novels this year, but I ended up spending more time working on client edits than my own stories. I’ll end up releasing two. Next year will be better. Most of my attention, most of my hard work, will be on my stories. The sky is the limit, and I’ll be able to do what I love most: Write my stories.

There will be a lot of challenges ahead of me, and a lot of reasons to be worried and stressed out. My royalties will be expected to pay for all of my novel work after funds from my indiegogo and current editing work run out. I’ll be entirely dependent on my novels succeeding to keep writing.

But, facing facts… I was more of an editor than an author.

It’s time to do what I need to, and spend the vast majority of my time writing.

I’m looking forward to it.

But such a venture isn’t without fear, and a lot of it. My husband is supporting this shift… so long as it doesn’t harm our household finances. With the current household disasters, our ‘finances’ is a bit of a joke, but we’ll recover, in time. With a little luck, and hard work on my part, maybe my novel writing will really take off and be able to pay for a lot of the problems with our home.

Including the brand-new issue of smoldering electric wires in the upstairs. The entire upstairs floor has to be rewired. Bye-bye, $7,400.

When it rains, it pours.

But at least I’ll be standing out in the storm doing what I love most.

It’ll be hard, but I can live with that.

I can’t live without being able to write.

The future is uncertain, but at least this way, I’m grabbing the life I want by the horns, rather than allowing myself to work my way out of what I really want in life.

It’ll be interesting. I’ll just be buckling in for rough days ahead, but at least I can write.

And to me, that’s one of the most important things of all.

Important Announcement Regarding Editorial Work

I will no longer be taking any new clients. I am going to be shifting all of my efforts into my writing career, which has always been the most important thing for me.

Current clients, I will still be taking some projects, especially if you are working on a series, but I will be limiting the amount of time I spend on editorial work versus my own career. Contact me about new projects or continuations ASAP, please.

In a way, I hate doing this, because I really like helping people improve their novels, but my first love is writing books. To be truthful, I’m spending more than half of my time on other people’s books, not mine. This bothers me. I want to make my career happen.

My husband and I have discussed, and we are going to take the risk of letting my royalties completely float my writing career, rather than depending on my editorial work to float my writing career.

I’m going all in. This is the equivalent of quitting the day job to write.Inquisitor proved I can do this. My writing will improve, and I hope I can continue to write better and better stories.

I can’t keep dedicating 2/3rds of my writing creativity on editorial. Editorial work saps a great deal of my creative energy. I use the same level of creativity – sometimes more — in helping others with their fiction.

That leeches away from my ability to work on my books. I will complete my current work load and edits promised to individuals, but from now on, I’ll do what I have wanted to do all along: Write.

Thank you.

Inquisitor & Storm Without End – Available at epub stores!

Your time has come, e-pub readers!

Inquisitor is now available at all major epub vendors! Here are links for those interested.

Loved reading Inquisitor? Consider leaving a review at one of these sites to help give the book a head start.

Barnes & Nobles
Kobo 
iTunes
Inktera 
Scribd 

Storm Without End is also now available at all major epub vendors. Here are links for those interested.

While I know this is not as popular of a series, if you read the book and love it, consider leaving a review at one of these sites to help encourage new readers to pick it up!

Barnes & Nobles
Kobo
iTunes
Inktera
Scribd

Book Review: SEAL Team Six: Hunt the Falcon by Don Mann (with Ralph Pezzullo)

SEAL Team Six: Hunt the Falcon tells the story of a group of SEAL operatives on the hunt for the Falcon, an Iranian terrorist who had kidnapped the main character’s wife several months prior.

The Short Review: I really wanted to like this novel. It reminded me of an interesting blend of Mitch Rapp and Jack Ryan, but at the end, I couldn’t help but feel that in the effort to hit two different styles of thriller at the same time, the novel missed its mark. It was enjoyable, but I didn’t find it quite as engaging as other thrillers in the same ballpark.

I’d give this novel 3.5* to 4*; Crocker is an interesting character, but I felt that there was just something missing from the tension in the story. Still, it wasn’t a bad book, it just didn’t grab me nearly as much as I was hoping it would.

One thing I will shout out for this book: It has a very real, gritty feel to it, which I really appreciated.

The Long Review: SEAL Team Six: Hunt the Falcon opens with the deaths of the parents of a child by the Iranian terrorist ‘the Falcon.’ Crocker goes on the hunt, with his team of SEALs, in order to bring the Falcon to justice.

This story shines when the focus is on what the team is doing. During those phases of the novel, I really enjoyed the book. During those parts, it’s a solid 4*, occasionally 5* book for me. It’s when the story loses focus on the Falcon and shifts to other things, including the relationships with Crocker’s family.

The transitions between these two parts of the story were really rough for me. It often felt like there was a lot of jumping. One minute, I’m in a different country on the hunt for the Falcon, and the next, Crocker is home dealing with family life. There’s very little transition, which would leave me floundering to get back into the story.

Once Crocker went back on the hunt for the Falcon, I was enjoying the story again. I think part of it boils down to the fact that Crocker lacks the charismatic charm of Jack Ryan and Mitch Rapp, which didn’t let me really get into his character when he wasn’t being a SEAL. His actions as a SEAL were what held me to the story, not the characterizations with his family, which just didn’t work well for me.

That’s personal taste. In terms of writing quality, which is what I’m basing the star value of this review on, it’s a pretty solid 4*. It’s gritty, down-to-Earth, and works well for the genre of book.

I just couldn’t get into Crocker’s character in this book, outside of when he was being a SEAL doing what he does best. If the focus had been less on his family, I probably would have enjoyed this book even more.

I want to take a moment to talk about one of the strengths of this book: The technicalities.  If you’re looking for a realistic thriller, this is probably right up your alley. It reads accurate, feels accurate, and is accurate, at least so far as I can tell from what I do know about operations of this type. That is one of the strengths that kept me reading right up to the end of the book.

So, if you like thrillers of the military type with a focus on anti-terrorism, this novel is definitely worth the read. If you’re going in and expecting the charismatic charm of Mitch Rapp or Jack Ryan, however, I’d be wary. Crocker is a lot more down-t0-Earth, and I feel he isn’t quite as likable because of it. Still, I rooted for him, although he just wasn’t the type of character I was really hoping for.

I received this book as an ARC from the publisher.

Progress on the Fundraising Campaign

Not quite four days into the campaign, my fundraiser for the next three Witch & Wolf novels is doing really well. 20% funded, all thanks to you!

The depression is trying to tell me that it won’t get any better.

I’m telling it to go screw itself with a sharp stick.

It’s the first time since the basement sewage flood I’ve been able to really fight back. I got up, grabbed my camera, and I went outside today. I took photos. I took photos of things that, for whatever reason, made me happy. 

I managed to escape for a little while. It wasn’t through my writing, but through the lens of my camera. But I’ll be honest, it hurt. My knee ached the entire time, and I got a blister on a heel. I don’t exercise enough. I wanted to walk 2 kilometers. I managed one before the aches and pains drove me back home.

If it isn’t raining, I’m going to try to do it again, first thing in the morning. Get up, walk, move around. Try to find good things about the day before reality strikes… or the depression rears its ugly head.

I’m finally feeling like I’m getting somewhere. I’m stressed, but I’m functioning again.

Today, I’ll write.

But before I do, I want to talk about the campaign a little bit more. I’ve added some fun perks to it, including the Deluxe Tea Party, Acknowledges by my Cat, and a Photo Walk of Montreal Botanical Gardens, where I take pictures, have fun, and act goofy.

The Deluxe Tea Party ($15 perk at the campaign) is really fun. I take my dry erase markers, draw something at random, write something on the board, and include the contributor’s name in it. I pose my cup of tea in front of it, and take a picture.

So far, three people have participated in the Deluxe Tea Party.

First up, Megan Reed!

Second up, Amybeth Inverness!

And last, but not least, Michael Robertson!

I’ve been posting them on facebook and google+ as I’ve been finishing the, but I’ll make a gallery of all of the images once the campaign is over.

I’ll be fulfilling this perk as I go, as I really enjoy tea, and what better time than the present to enjoy a cup of tea?

Now, for a confession:

I admit, because the opening days have done so well, I’m actually a little hopeful that this campaign will reach the funding goal. I’m even indulging in some tentative thoughts of what I’d do if it actually goes over the goal.

I’d buy a new computer or laptop, that’s what. It’d either be a new desktop (I direly need one) or a really badass laptop that can serve as a desktop. My current desktop is a piece of crap. I can no longer run the video hangouts I used to love doing (the silent writing hangouts) — Windows needs reinstalled, and I do not have a Windows 7 disc to do it with.

I can’t really justify paying the amount for Windows 7 with a desktop that is really crappy in terms of what’s under the hood. I mean, I bought it for $300 brand new several years ago. It’s one of those cheapo systems meant for people who don’t want to use their computers for more than facebook and email. That’s totally cool, except I need to use my computer for more than facebook and email.

Oh well.

But, that’s a dream within a dream, however awesome that dream might be.

My novels, as always, come first.

But how glorious would it be if I could afford a laptop like that?!

If you want to help with the Witch & Wolf novels, there are lots of ways that you can participate without spending a cent. While money is important for my goals, reach is really important.

Do you know a single person who would be willing to share the campaign on their facebook, twitter, and google+ accounts? Could you talk them into talking one of their friends into sharing the campaign? In turn, do you think you could then have them talk their friends talk their friends into sharing it?

One person can have a huge impact if the chain keeps going. And best of all, with each share, with each public comment on the campaign cheering it on, and with each and every donation, no matter what size, the campaign will get more notice on indiegogo as well.

That helps me an immeasurable amount. Even if someone doesn’t contribute, awareness that I exist is so valuable as an author.

It means I’m relevant. It means I have a chance of being recognized.

When my next novel launches, one of these people might see it and remember me. They might decide to take a chance on me.

And that is really important.

Thank you so much for your support.

 

Fighting Depression one Thought at a Time

I wrote about my slide into depression recently. I’m revisiting the subject because talking about it helps.

Sharing what I’m doing to fight on might help someone else, even if it makes me uncomfortable in some ways. I feel like I’m whining. I feel like I’m an abnormal, worthless part of society for having the emotions I do. I don’t feel like I belong.

But I’m not alone, and that’s why I’m going to express myself as I can, and speak about what I’m doing to get my life back in order.

As I mentioned before, writing about it helped. Old and new friends alike let me know they understand, and that’s a big thing, even when the nasty little voice in my head doesn’t agree and doesn’t want anyone’s pity.

I’m remembering how to tell that nasty little voice to go to hell. I’d gotten lazy because I’d been so focused on my novel writing and production and client editorial that I didn’t have time to get really, really depressed.

I think the first real forward step wasn’t in the writing, however, it was in making a decision to do something–anything. Instead of wallowing, I stood back up.

That was hard. Really hard. I think one of the most difficult parts about fighting depression, for me, is making the decision I must dig out somehow, even when it seems impossible.

And for the past little while, it’s felt impossible. My mother has assured me, countless times, I’m doing all of the right things to make the problems go away. (And not through magic, by hard work, effort, and all that snazz.)

Although I swore to myself I wouldn’t let my pride sink so low again, I started an indiegogo campaign to help myself get back on my feet in a way I could, eventually, be proud of: my novel-writing career. (If you have a few spare dollars, consider buying me a cup of tea to help me pay for all of the things I need to pay for to make these novels a reality. My career is really important to me. That’s why I work so hard, but… I had to choose between it and my home recently.)

I pillaged a lot of my novel funds to pay for various household disaster things. In order to be a self-sufficient business, I developmentally edit novels for clients.

I was financially stable for my writing until this disaster struck, barely. But when given the choice of repairing from a sewage flood or keeping my novel-writing nest, it was a pretty simple choice. Without a home, I can’t write… and if the sewage flood wasn’t fixed, my home could’ve been condemned. Insurance is covering a lot, but not everything. That’s just how it rolls, unfortunately.

My mother is really, really helping me a lot financially right now, which is a major blow to my pride, however appreciative I am. (Thanks, Mom.)

Thanks to my mother, I can go to Las Vegas without worrying about having to eat as cheaply as possible. We can pick and choose from the reasonably-priced buffets. We can get some souvenirs. We can go see some shows. I have to buy her a jackalope and mail it to her… but we were going to do that anyway. That’s how we roll in the Blain household.

We help each other, even if it means bullying our way through the walls of pride.

I can do all of these things, as we had planned in December of 2013, because my mother is helping us do it so we won’t fall into even more debt.

I’m grateful, even if my pride is curled in the fetal position.

Through it all, I have to try to force a positive thought. I can do this. No, the potato salad kickstarter is not a reflection of my value. Just because people want to throw money at some kid for being snarky on the internet doesn’t mean my goals and ambitions are worthless.

True story: When I saw that kickstarter project, I just about gave up on everything. I wanted to cry.

But I fought it, one thought at a time. Fine, if some dude can get $35,000+ dollars because he wanted potato salad, maybe I can get the money I need to finish my novels and keep writing.

Maybe my campaign will take off, and I’ll be able to get a new laptop… one that can handle running word plus another program for drafting and editing purposes. One with a nice, big screen so I can take it places and have the screen real estate to be productive. Or replace my piece of crap desktop, although it is functional as is. It’s just crappy and old.

And… dream of all dreams… a dedicated keyboard and mouse for it.

If the stars align, a dedicated monitor for downstairs when I’m working in a quiet space where I can concentrate without life getting in the way.

Maybe I can prove to myself, and the world, that writing is a worthwhile endeavor, and that through my books, I can connect with people and entertain them. I can, in some way, touch them even though we’ve never met face to face and may never have that chance.

Maybe I can, one thought at a time, prove I’m worthwhile.

But the other, dark little voice, keeps saying I’ve attached my value to money. That I’m a greedy little bitch for daring to want to succeed at anything.

But then I fight back, thought by thought: Yes, I’m being greedy. I have a dream, and damn it, I’m not going to let some stupid little negativity demon lurking in my brain take it away from me, not this time. I want to write my books, and I want to make my novel-writing career a viable lifestyle and reality.

And the ‘this time’ mentioned above is accurate. It won, a while back. For two to three years, where I barely wrote a single word. It won, because I didn’t fight on.

Because I didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t believe in myself.

That’s depression, though. That’s the nature of the beast.

All I can do is fight on, and hope that this time, it is enough.

I won’t listen to those who say writing is a crap shoot career choice. I don’t care. It’s what I love to do. It’s a part of who I am. Why should I roll over and take a traditional job because of what traditional people say?

I want to tell stories. I want people to love my books.

I want to write.

And I will.

And I’ll keep telling myself this, one thought at a time, until I believe it.