Have you ever read a book that claws through the foundation of everything you ever thought you knew about fiction?
And when the ground finally gives way, you find yourself falling through the abyss of space and you can’t breathe but at least you’ve never seen stars like these before. Then you realize they aren’t stars at all but flaming wreckage hurtling silently toward you and there’s nothing you can do but hope that something will survive the storm. Continue reading
I have to admit. I’m biased.
I absolutely adored Leigh Bardugo’s previous duology, so when I got my hands on her new one this year, I couldn’t put it down. Continue reading
Josan clutched the doorframe, doubling over with a ragged cough. Smoke pricked his eyes with a hundred tiny daggers. He gagged, pressing his face into the crook of his arm.
Orange flickers laced the opposite side of the great hall, wreathing ornate tapestries in smoke. Josan’s guard gripped his shoulder from behind. As if Seris could defend against this siege.
I love music. I listen to it as I write. I find songs for characters. I listen to it on the way to work. I find a song I love and listen to it twenty times in the next three days.
He’d almost forgotten what they looked like.
The old soldier gripped his rifle strap tighter as if the canvas cutting against calloused skin could hold off the dull ache in his chest.
Pianos, they used to call them. Continue reading
I remember when I was a child. Strange, the things one thinks about as they are dying.
I catch the doorframe of the castle gate with a painful gasp. Each breath burns in my chest as poison races through my veins. I clench one bloody fist against my ribs. It’s only a shallow cut, but it’s enough when poison is involved. Continue reading
Words are powerful. Pictures are even more so.
Each mask hides another,
Veil on tear-stained veil.
Each tattered page of my heart
Inked and stamped and sealed
In the shadows of my mind.
I got an idea from my best friend, awhile back. Something that helps me watch people better. Think about them. Wonder. You know, all that creepy, stalkerish stuff.
I write notes about people I see and I save them.
I don’t write these all that often, but they are very fun, are good practice for me, and they give me a bank of characters to pull from if I need one sometime.
I didn’t mean to erase time.
I’m very, very sorry about all of that.