20,000+ words, baby!

Yep. It's me. Giving a small update on my book 4, The Gordons, in my mythological retelling series. 

Getting good.

Hope to squeeze about 3,000 more words today. More this weekend. *fingers crossed*

Interesting G searches thus far:

Kunafa

Tres Leches

Red eye color

Eir pronounciation

Doctor gown

What is the origin of Om Ali?

What are those damn things at the end of the staircase?

Chili rellenos

Woot! And we march on...

When I don't write

Tuesdays are a write-off. ha

I have Spravato that morning, and I'm cooked the rest of that day and sometimes into the next. Wipes me out.

But I've noticed that when I don't at least have the opportunity to write, my brain fills it in.

Example, I'll think of older books I need to revise and publish. I'll think of books I started but did not finish for...reasons.

Then I become the twitchy ball of fun we all know and tolerate.

Story ideas are literally everywhere. I like to tell the story of how Canary, the series, came about. I was driving home after work, and I passed a work truck with the name "Canary" on the side. This was obviously four or five years ago.

But the word stuck. And my grey matter immediately went to "canary in a coal mine" which is some fucked up business for said canaries.

But I couldn't get the idea of a character who put herself in situations as the canary in a coal mine. On purpose. For overwhelming and traumatic reasons.

I LOVE damaged characters. They are my jam, jelly, and whatever other toasty condiments exist. Because they arc the hardest. Because even though I never FIX these characters I write, I give them people to surround them with care. A path yet unexplored. And the ballsiest balls that ever existed to move forward.

Ah, where was I going?

Story ideas. That's the ticket.

I have a list of over two dozen titles, most with genre, I need to write. I've started on at least half a dozen of them. But the timing wasn't right. Or I began another story. Or...heaven knows. I just live here.

But I can't understand an author stating that they hope they have another story idea.

What breaks my heart, is that I will never be able to write all the stories I want because my list is constantly increasing. 

And while my short ass is hell on wheels at the keyboard, even I can't keep up with myself.

In the Book of Crystal: Issues 24/7.

I write on the weekends because I know Tuesday is a hard pass. And lately, I've been doing pickups on Monday. So that's also a no-go. But I write Saturday and Sunday because I can't...not.

Murphy has begun to give me the side-eye, which I perfected decades ago. Apparently my feline son has picked up the habit. 🙄

Because he is the top priority in the household according to the Book of Murphy: Needy 24/7.

That's it for me. 

Off to the land of Enchantment. And no, I don't mean New Mexico. Though, that's a killer motto.

You know us. Oklahoma is OK.

meh

Not really.

Canary series 25% off!

This one will go down in infamy for me. Blew through the first book. Usually do. Second book was a bit more challenging, but still finished in a timely manner. Third book???

Keep in mind, I've written a five-book series before. Not my first rodeo, in the slightest. But this fucking book there tried to kill my short ass, and I was NOT a fan.

Thought I had it.

Started.

Headdesk.

And again.

And again.

Ad nauseum.

It is now well with my soul. And in that vein, I'm offering the entire three-set series for $33. A discount of 25% on the paperback prices listed.

Canary series order form.

Great time to pick up some books for summer reading in the chaise or by the pool.

Canary: 

Ray Smith likes her solitude. But when her siblings drag her into a deadly Fae war, survival becomes her only choice.

A mad mother. A vicious queen. Monsters that kill without mercy.

The clock is ticking, and in the Fae world, one mistake could cost everything.

Family pulled her in. Blood will keep her there.

Canary: Dark Descent

Three siblings burn in Hell. The others tear through the mortal and Fae worlds.

Ray fights to protect those she loves—but the price is devastating.

As new players crowd the board, the hunt only grows bloodier. And survival is no longer enough.

Love costs. Survival demands more.

Canary: Out of the Shadows

The gods have joined the game—and they want Ray erased.

Every secret bleeds into the open. Every choice exacts its price.

Her father’s name is no longer a mystery—it’s a weapon.

As the war reaches its breaking point, Ray must decide what kind of monster she’s willing to become to end it.

The board is burning. The gods are watching.

And this time, Ray plays for keeps.

*******

Bitch, what?

Book four in my mythological retelling series centers around two main ideas. One: trying to win daddy's favor is an effort in futility. Two: Medusa got the shaft.

Not going to dwell on the first as it's in progress, and I don't want to give any spoilers.

But let's trot down Medusa Lane for a moment.

This woman was a handmaiden for Athena in her temple. Pledged herself to this goddess. Then Poseidon, walking sphincter, raped her in the temple. And instead of Athena being like...hey! Let's fuck this Sea God up, she punished Medusa.

There are so many layers to this. 

First of all, Athena would NOT pass the Bechdel test. She basically raped what Poseidon couldn't touch. She ruined the rest of Medusa's life. Cursed her for eternity. 

And this is a running theme with these hedonistic fuckers. Worship me or be punished. Worship me AND be punished.

In my first MR book, I write about the relationship between Apollo and Hyacinthus. In a nutshell, Apollo accidentally killed his lover and then turned him into a flower.

That's also a running theme with these assholes. In fact, I have Hyacinthus' brother say, "Yeah. Those fuckers like to do that."

It's having their cake and eating it, too. 

Feels like half the well-known flowers that exist have a messed-up back story.

But I digress. The smallest bit.

The gods, in all cultures, got away with everything they wanted. Usually in the cruelest way available. And that, my dear ones, is why they need a mythological retelling and comeuppance of monumental proportions.

*flexes fingers* 

May it be so.

I'll forever be that girl

1.   Story idea

2.   Make OneNote Notebook

3.   Jot down shit I know like names and places and plots

4.   Stare blankly at computer

5.   Realize my short ass is in for a lot of research

6.   Look up big themes

7.   Research small themes and crossovers

8.   Go down rabbit holes no human was ever meant to fall into

9.   Find fascinating shit I'll use in a future book

10. Be so appalled I can't look at myself in the mirror 

11. Reread the scintillating stuff

12. Grey matter does its thing by weaving together in my subconscious

13. Have ah-ha moments.

14. Can't sleep

15. Compulsive writing

16. Happy dance at the beauty of it all

17. Want to yeet keyboard into oblivion

18. Research more

19. Lose myself in the web for a day or two

20. Come back crazier and armed with factoids for days

21. Resume writing

22. Question self. Then question why I question self.

23. Manic writing

24. Euphoria

25. Finishes book

Rinse and repeat until the end of my existence.

Ace

I'm near the end. Total of 75,116 words. I know what I want the fourth book to be about. Funny thing being, that's all in my head, where the good shit is. But the good shit needs research. I need a connecting factor and may have found one between the Greek and Egyptian. We'll see.

So I'm on the last chapter of Ace. Jotting down the intro to book 4. Encapsulating the basic plot into a few paragraphs. Then filling in with all the shades and nuances.

I'm building a bridge, basically. 

Book four is quite dark, actually. That's what happens when one backstories the Gorgons. When past abuse begets future abuse. When silenced voices roar. When amends are demanded.

I've been SA'd. Most females have, which is beyond fucked up. I was going to say it was "sad", but you know what? IT'S FUCKED UP.

And writing this material and subject matter with a lighter hand is cathartic. 

I'm reminded of this Joss Whedon quote: “Make it dark, make it grim, make it tough, but then, for the love of God, tell a joke.”

That's me. 

I'll unwind you quicker than shit and then make you blow snot from laughter. I carry tissues for both instances.

There is an art to pain. Every brush stroke. Every key stroke. Every exhalation.

Fear is the memory. Living is the triumph.

Everybody has a story

DISCLAIMER: I have intensive therapy once a week. That is today. I cannot drive myself to or from said appointment. I am more than likely still under the influence.

Proceed with caution.

The Honey works from home. And she and her people are literally at the ass end of a HUGE PROJECT. Months in the works. So on and so forth.

Today is my once a week therapy where I'm unable to drive myself.

Honey is busy.

I take Lyfts.

First of all, I'm me. Second of all, ADHD. Keep those close to your chest.

But I think someone, not me, should put together a story of Lyft drivers. Like my guy this morning has advanced diabetes. He rents the car he drives, by the week. It has the bells and whistles that make it easier for him. 

But still.

The mind boggles.

They are every shape, size, and color. Spectrum of gender. I'm curious as to how they started and why. 

Nice thing about Lyft rides are I can specify I'd rather have female or non-binary drivers. 

I do.

But back to the meat of it. I want to know things. I want to understand them. And having a crack at these stories would ensure better understanding of the job and lifestyle.

It's fascinating.

Yes. I would look in your medicine cabinet, given half the chance. 

Top Five Meme.

😂