Title Reveal for the latest novel from Autumn Rain (OMG!!!)
Tag: life
Lost Whimsy
Lately YouTube has been recommending videos about ‘The Witcher’ to me (totally didn’t watch ’em).
It’s a title that I’ve known for several years because I dabble in video games, but it’s not something that I’ve ever been personally interested in. Basically, I know enough to understand the parody reference in ‘Graveyard Keeper’, but I’ve never considered playing ‘The Witcher’ myself, let alone reading any books.
I assumed that the title had been made into a movie or something, and once again dumped it into my “don’t care” bin.
The other day my husband and I decided to watch an episode of ‘Sherlock’, so we ventured outside of Netflix Kids for the first time since . . . ‘Stranger Things 3’ came out. Lo and behold, there was a giant advertisement for ‘The Witcher’! Mystery solved, it’s a Netflix Original.
Instead of watching ‘Sherlock’, I launched into a rant: “You know what I really hate? The fact that the mass media treats the fantasy genre like its synonymous with dark, gritty violence.”
Seriously.
The Chronicles of Narnia and the Hobbit have been reduced down to endless war scenes in their latest Hollywood remakes. Heck, even Twilight and Harry Potter end with drawn out battle scenes. All of the online Originals seem intent on portraying the most graphic violence they can. Game of Thrones is . . . what it is.
I miss the old fantasy movies, where everything is covered in glitter, unlikely characters protect babies, True Love conquers all, and David Bowie serenades a wide-eyed Jennifer Connelly while she’s wearing the most beautiful ballgown ever created.
I miss the whimsy that fantasy used to represent.
My umbrage isn’t even ‘for the children.’ It’s for me. I grew up in a world full of wars, mass shootings, terrorist attacks, and endless news stories about people dying in horrific ways. There’s only so much a person should be expected to take, you know? I’ve reached the point where I really want to escape with my escapism. I don’t want the endless reminders of how dark the real world can be. I don’t want to watch graphic violence and death. Enough is enough.
I want to laugh. I want to feel inspired. I want to swoon over how visually pretty that scene was. I want something to be excited about. I want Jennifer Connelly’s ballgown.
And I’m a fantasy geek, so I want it wrapped up with fairies and magic. Is that really too much to ask?
Thank you for sharing my work!
Almost there?
And just like that, the rewrite is done.
Time for more editing and proofreading, LAWL.
The bulk of the hard work is finished, and now I get to sit back and experience my novel from the perspective of a reader rather than a writer, with mostly nitpicky changes rather than anything major. It’ll be fun.
And
Very shortly, I will start promoting my novel instead of being so darned secretive about it.
Exciting!
Thank you for sharing my work!
New Decade
Since it’s a new decade, I have been thinking a lot about what I want out of the next ten years. The themes that kept me occupied during the 2010’s are (hopefully) over and done with, and at this point I feel established enough as a wife and mother that I don’t need to wonder what the heck I’m doing anymore.
I definitely want to write more fiction. I would very much enjoy publishing a new book every year, as well as writing more novelettes — heaven knows it would enable me to get more of my creative ideas out there, instead of having them perpetually on the back burner while I focus on bigger projects. Bonus: I’m more comfortable publishing novelettes as I write them, as the shorter length makes them more manageable and less prone to “I changed my mind.”
I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and I feel that this is the decade to really put myself out there. I’m not going to expect instant results, but hopefully by the time 2030 rolls around, I’ll have an established audience for my stories.
I’m going to make the most I can out of the 2020’s.
Thank you for sharing my work!
The Accolade
I first saw this picture during one of my babysitting jobs as a young teenager. I don’t remember much, but the dad had been one of those geeky sorts who liked computers, Lord of the Rings, and Star Wars, so a large copy of this painting was hanging in the front room that was intended for guests (not children).
After putting the kids in bed, I tiptoed downstairs to study it. I loved the solemnity of the scene, the folds of shimmering fabric of the woman’s dress, and the way her long hair caught the light. It was beautiful.
As I grew, I learned to hide a number of things while out in public. No one knew that I liked The Chronicles of Narnia, Neopets, or The Legend of Zelda. I wasn’t outgoing enough to obtain any sort of popularity with the normal kids, but the stereotypical geeks saw me as too “flighty” to have anything to do with me. As an outcast, I did everything I could to blend in and be invisible, because, as I so painfully learned, people are capable of enormous cruelty towards each other.
The image of the woman and the knight was permanently in my head. I wanted to grow my hair out, but was too scared. I bought shirts with flouncy sleeves whenever I could, but always defaulted to t-shirts when it came to school or work. The idea of being Obviously Different on a daily basis was terrifying.
Until skinny jeans and messy buns came along.
I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.
It was too far away from what had literally taken my breath away several years before.
I KNEW what I thought was beautiful, and fashion was moving in the exact opposite direction. I balked at the idea of following along just to be invisible.
This happened during a major transitional period in my life, so while I was busy dropping out of college and eloping with my soulmate, I embraced being Different. I quit wearing jeans and t-shirts altogether, and that opened the floodgates for everything that was me.
Video games, fantasy novels, horror movies, sewing, pink, glitter, etc. All of it. I became myself, inside and out, no matter where I was. I quit hiding.
Sometimes it’s still awkward. I’m still introverted, after all, and people can’t help but notice me out in public. Not only do I wear unique clothing, I have a growing number of children running around me as well. I often don’t know what to say in reply to the comments I get — especially the compliments. One thing is certain though: my family and I are memorable.
And I still aspire to be that serene woman draped in shimmering fabric with cascading locks.
Thank you for sharing my work!
The Doldrums
Every single year, January finds me feeling sluggish and unmotivated. I prefer to hibernate on cloudy days, and avoid having anywhere to go or much to do. I don’t mind — its nice having a break from the usual activities that keep me occupied throughout the rest of the year.
But it also means that I’m not in the mood for blogging.
Cuz meh.
I’ll be in my sewing room, learning how to make smocked bishops.
Thank you for sharing my work!
Inspiration and Blocks
The other night I had a dream that can be best summarized as a thoroughly awesome expansion of my Dragon King writing prompt story. The dream had a rich fairy tale atmosphere, and plenty of back story to really get the imagination going. As soon as I was up, I pulled out my binder with the intention of writing a prologue to lock in the idea — and yes, I was going to share it too.
The best I could manage was a rough outline.
Le sigh.
At the very least, the idea is solidly recorded, and eventually one day I will transform it into a proper story. But for now, I have nothing sharable. In all likelihood, it will be about five or so more months before I return to posting any short stories or novelettes. It’s honestly a bit disheartening to feel like that part of my brain is shut off for the moment.
I’m thankful that the first draft of my novel is finished, and I’m editing/rewriting rather than trying to come up with sentences from scratch. On the bright side, I won’t have any new ideas distracting me from finishing it. Just fatigue, lol.
So far I’m on track for finishing by the end of this month, but I’ve also caught a bad case of the gremlins, so fingers crossed and knock on wood. Maybe I should buy a second flash drive to save more back up copies . . . just in case.
Thank you for sharing my work!
Birthday
I’ll be turning 32 at some point during this month.
I grew up with the whole, “Hide your real age and try to look younger,” shtick, but I’m really enjoying the whole process of growing older and more mature. It wasn’t until my 30th birthday, for example, that I decided I didn’t care what sort of hairstyles everyone else said would look good with my face type, and that I would do what *I* thought was pretty instead. Personally, I like the way I look much better now than I did ten years ago.
I enjoy being a weird homemade bohemian goth with a gazillion kids WAY more than I ever liked wearing t-shirts and jeans, and working a full time job.
Other benefits of being in my 30s include finally working up the courage to self-publish my fiction, without taking it as a criticism when I didn’t instantly turn into an overnight success story. I’m rather glad I don’t have that burden right now.
I think it will be an absolute blast when I hit middle age and start speaking my mind without worrying about what everyone will think of me. Hopefully for everyone else, leggings will have fallen out of fashion by then.
Truthfully, sometimes I fantasize about being more publicly visible and influencing people away from that particular trend. Because seriously, it’s a pretty stupid when women dictate to me that leggings are more “comfortable” when I’m wearing culottes. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that attributes like “breathable”, “nonrestrictive”, and “flattering” didn’t count as comfortable. My bad.
Besides, I’m nearly 32 and I have a gazillion kids. I have no interest in trying to flaunt every detail of my body like I’m 22. I’d like to age with dignity and keep my cellulite to myself.
Lol, tangent.
Anyway, I remember being that t-shirts and jeans person, lying on the floor of my studio apartment, staring at the ceiling and wishing more than anything that I could quit my job and be a full-time author. I wanted it so badly it hurt, but every inquiry I made to publishers went nowhere and I was too terrified of failure to strike out on my own.
I wonder why, when I had all the time and energy I could possibly need, my approach to the world was so limited and fearful.
Oh, my darling young self, you have no idea what could have happened if you had been courageous enough to create your own path.
Live ‘n learn. I was the best I knew how to be, and that was enough to lead me here. After all, 32 is hardly decrepit.
When I think about the future, I see myself overflowing with creativity and surrounded by a gazillion loved ones. I look forward to my birthdays, and marking another year of growing and maturing with the people who matter the most.
Thank you for sharing my work!
Back to writing
Now that the holidays are (mostly) over, my delusion is that I’ll be able to jump back into writing and finally finish that novel I’ve been working on for the past 18 months. If I religiously devote just an hour a day, I should have the rewrite done by the end of January.
You know, provided that the sky doesn’t randomly open up and start raining killer sharks or anything like that. Life knows how to be a bitch, so I’m always reticent to make any sort of announcements about the future, only to follow up with a “Lol, jk.” I guess this reflects how many killer sharks I’ve dealt with over the last umpteen years.
But anyway, tentatively speaking, I should start “promoting” in February, and let slip what all my vague references were about all along. That way, this novel can be over with and out of my hair so I can have my new baby in peace.
And start my next novel during all those hours I’ll be off my feet with a newborn. What can I say? My mind is always brimming with stories to tell, and sleep deprivation is a fantastic channel for inspiration, lol.
Thank you for sharing my work!
Journal
Christmas is looming ever closer. We’ve started the official countdown.
Finally feeling ‘second trimester-y’, which means less gagging and more energy. And baby wiggles.
Wanted to make coffee this morning, but discovered that we forgot to clean out the french press from . . . forever ago. Yuck. Chai tea instead.
Spent the entire weekend making gingerbread houses with my husband and kids. Still haven’t cleaned up the dining table. So. Much. Candy. We had tons of fun.
Christmas sewing. The pants I made for my son are absolutely perfect and very dapper. I’m not sure why I decided to do puff sleeves on the girls’ dresses when I have such a tight deadline, because going sleeveless would have been considerably faster. Maybe because puff sleeves are just too adorable. With any luck, I’ll get them finished in time.
Child #2 came down with a fever. I’m expecting everyone (myself included) to get sick before the end of this week. Might throw a wrench in the works. Curse you, cold and flu season!
At the very least, the next eight days will be interesting.
By Autumn Rain 