May Accountability

Emerging out the other side of the depressive fog that's been hanging over me since last autumn, I made the mistake of thinking hard about myself. This is a mistake largely because I'm riddling with self-doubt at the best of times, and the past few months (with a few small exceptions) have not been the best of times. I started analyzing what I'm writing, how I'm writing, whether I can do more as an author, whether I should change my focus, change my habits, change my identity...

(Never let it be said that I am not privately deeply melodramatic).

The main reason for all the worry and overthinking (besides that just being how I roll) is that being a writer is the only thing I've ever wanted, the only ambition I've ever had, and I want to do it as well as I possibly can. I think that requires regular revisiting of where I am, where I want to be, and what I can do to keep moving forward.

And after a few anguished internal debates and a few more books on How To Be A Writer, I realised (late in the game, to be honest), that the best thing I can do for my writing career is what I'm already doing. Write. It sounds ridiculously simply, but sometimes I lose sight of the woods for the trees. That feeling that I need to be marketing myself and my books, that I need to be "on," that my social media needs to be the magical mystic blend of Self Promotion and Self Deprecation to lure people in and sell them my books, that can become all-consuming. And it takes time away from writing.

And frankly, I don't have enough time as it is.

So, May Accountability - I am narrowing my focus. I'm not disappearing from social media. You can still find me on Facebook and Twitter, and I've love to virtually hang out with you and hear about your cute pets. But I'm going to be blogging a lot less. I don't blog much anyway, but I constantly beat myself up about that, and the best way to cut that shit out is to just officially decide not to blog much. I'll still be hosting my fellow authors for their books and posting news about my own books as it comes, but that's about it.

Writing. I'm going slow on Chaos Songs because I've had edits for an Amber Morgan project, and because all that overthinking really interfered with my ability to sit down and write. But I'm really hoping I can finish it by the end of June at the latest (don't hold me to that though). After that, I'm not sure what I'll work on next, but I've decided not to worry about that until Chaos Songs is done anyway. I have more ideas that I know what to do with, and planning too far ahead never works for me.

And finally, I decided to start a newsletter. You can find the sign up link in the blog sidebar. Currently my plan is to use it for announcements and giveaways tied to new releases, but I may also include a serial story (it will have werewolves!) if the interest is there. So feel free to sign up if you're curious and want to stay up-to-date!

Oh, I am anxious and aching, breathing the burning air

A four-day weekend is upon us and I couldn't be more ready. It's been a strange week, mentally. The fog of depression and anxiety came down again, and suddenly every day has been a struggle from waking to sleeping. It's been a week where I haven't been able to write, despite being full of love for both the projects I'm working on. A week where my day job has seemed overwhelming and I've lain in bed every morning secretly hoping I'll discover I'm suddenly sick and can't go in. A week where I look at all the weird little coping mechanisms I have and suddenly wonder is this normal? A week where dread has settled in the pit of my stomach for no reason, and my head has throbbed and my body has rebelled against me, and I find myself wondering is there something wrong with me? Some mystery illness? Some phantom condition that's silently killing me?
Of course there isn't. My body is fine. My mind is mis-firing, and all I can really do is get through each hour and say to myself, see? Nothing bad happened. And that's how I make it to the end of the week. Tomorrow I won't have to get up with the alarm clock. I won't have to go anywhere or do anything if I don't want to. I'll have four days where I can read under a fluffy blanket with Yuki on my lap and a cup of tea at hand, write if the spirit moves me, and laze on the sofa with Nero watching MasterChef. I can exhale.
I don't know how other people experience anxiety, but for me it's a sense of not having enough time, of not working hard enough, of not being good enough, of having faked my way in life. And so my writing suffers. What's the point in me writing when my writing isn't good enough? What's the point of writing if I can't get out 5k a day, every day? What's the point in writing when I'll never write all the books in my heart? And so I don't write, and then I feel worse, because I'm not working hard enough at writing.
There really aren't any tricks to getting out of this cycle. I just have to write something. Anything. There are scenes in my head for Chaos Songs waiting to get out. I just have to unfreeze myself, and sometimes that takes a while. 
But I have four days ahead of me, and today the sense of dread isn't so deep. Today I feel like I might be okay, and while that feeling lasts, I plan to do the little things that bring me peace. Burn a spiced vanilla candle, read a Point Horror book, wear a perfume laced with lavender and chocolate. And write, because I know, I know, that once the words are flowing, I will feel less claustrophobic, less uncertain, and more grounded. I've been here before, so many times. I know the way out, and I find the way out, every time. And that's how I make it to the end of the week.

"By March, the worst of the winter would be over."

Neil Gaiman.

This quote is a lie, by the way. Here in Cambridge, we're experiencing Actual Snow and everyone is falling into a state of icy panic. We have fraught discussions over how many pairs of socks we should wear, whether the buses and trains will be running, and if our boss will let us go home early. We're not designed for snow. Especially in March.

And it is March! I've been conspicuous by absence round here, I guess. So let me catch you up on things in my favourite manner: by making a list.

1. THROWN TO THE WOLVES won an Evernight Reader's Choice award! It was voted Best Romance on the Go, so thank you very much, lovely readers. And IMPERIAL DEMON was runner-up for best lesbian romance, so thank you again! If you hop on over to Evernight's site, you can use the coupon code WINNER2017 to get 25% off any Readers' Choice winners and runner-uppers. I'm always slightly shocked to win any kind of accolade, and it wouldn't happen without people taking the time to vote for the books, of course, so thank you again! Kisses.

2. Nero and I had an AMAZING holiday in Japan and spent loads of time with @pocketrex, which was also AMAZING, and we met so many lovely cats and ate so much fantastic food, and saw so many incredible sights, and I loved it, and we're going back next summer. If you want a glimpse of our adventures, the best thing to do is find my pictures on Instagram.

3. I'm doing much better mental health-wise. I'm still having some black days here and there, but the constant, aching anxiety I was dealing with before Christmas is under control. There's still work to do, but I'm out of deep water.

4. I'm working on the next Blood Canticles book, Chaos Songs. I'm so happy to be back with Lola and Tris! My plan this year is to focus on Blood Canticles and the Luporum. The Luporum was always going to be a trilogy, and that hasn't changed. Blood Canticles, I think, has two more books after Chaos Songs. Work has started slowly, because I'm still trying to get back into the daily writing rhythm that my anxiety and depression busted, but I have so many ideas and plans for Chaos Songs that have been brewing since before I even finished IMPERIAL DEMONS, and I'm excited about sharing some snippets with you soon!

5. I always name the year after a mythical animal, dating back to the hallowed, ancient times of 2013. Normally I do a big post about it in January, but obviously it's not January anymore, so here's the quick and dirty version: 

2018 is the Year of the Kappa. Partly inspired by our visit to a Goblin Pond in Tokyo on New Year's Eve, partly because the kappa is a creature associated with water, which is the element associated with emotions, and that feels right as I battle against anxiety and depression, and partly because a kappa, to me, is a creature of balance. If he loses the water in the indent in his head, he loses his power. Balance is going to be a big theme for me this year as I work to keep various plates in the air: writing, perfume-making, home life, health, and work life. So even though the kappa has a reputation for trouble-making and, um, drowning people and eating their souls, I feel like he's the right symbol for me this year.

So I think that brings us up to speed. Hopefully I'll be blogging more frequently going forward, but you can always find me on Twitter and Facebook for more frequent nonsense. Happy March!

Housekeeping

Hello, folks. *blows dust off blog* It's been a bit quiet round here since the release of IMPERIAL DEMONS, I know. I've been a bit quiet. Normally I would have sent out promo packs to fellow authors who generously offer blog space, and I generally try to be "present" online without constantly screaming HEY I HAVE A NEW BOOK OUT PLEASE LIKE IT!!!

But I'm not feeling very normal at the moment. I'm going through what I think of as a quiet patch of depression. That is to say, I'm standing at the edge of a stormy sea, aware I could be sucked in by the tide, rather than being out in that storm, helpless while the water closes over my head. I've suffered from depression on and off for...most of my life, I guess? I was undiagnosed as a teenager, but once I got diagnosed at university, I could look back and say "oh, that's what that was." Sometimes I need counselling and medication, and sometimes I get by without either of those things and just ride the storm out.

This time, it crept up on me slowly. I knew I was getting more anxious and irrational in my thoughts throughout September and October, but I blamed that on the approaching anniversary of my dad's death. But the feeling didn't pass once October did, and suddenly I found myself in the toilets at work, the day after IMPERIAL DEMONS came out, sobbing over nothing, and thought, "yeah, you probably need to talk to someone."

So I talked to my doctor and I'm taking medication, and I'm now at that nice point where I recognise that my thoughts aren't facts, and I can observe them rather than let them consume me. The storm is still out there, but I'm safe on the beach.

The downside is I really, really cannot write. Forget the romantic notion that suffering is good for art. For me, that's never been true. My writing started to lag in September, was almost nonexistent in October, and despite my resolution to write every day in November to finish an Amber Morgan book, I've done...virtually nothing again. It frustrates and panics me, and it takes away one of my coping mechanisms for when I feel low. So that's kind of a vicious circle. I want to write because I feel sad, but I feel too sad to write. My brain is...blank. Simple tasks feel beyond my strength, and writing isn't a simple task no matter how much I enjoy it. It takes time and care and love, and I don't have the energy or motivation for those things right now.

So in short, I'm not doing very much at the moment and I'm saving my energy for stuff I can't avoid, like going to work and remembering to put my clothes on the right way round (I did forget one day, but luckily I realised my top was on back to front before anyone else got to the office).

Nevertheless, there is stuff happening that I want to talk about. People who follow me on Facebook and Twitter may already know, but for those who don't, Ragnarok Publications recently announced they will be closing their doors temporarily. I don't know what will happen long-term (though I wish the team all the best), but short-term, UNDERTOW is one of the books that will be pulled from sale in December. All the rights will revert to me then.

I won't lie. I'm gutted. I'd just started to think there was still a chance to keep the Shoregrave/Ethan Banning dream alive. I'd had some positive talks with the new Ragnarok team when they took over, and felt like Ethan, at least, had a shot.

Now...now I don't know. In a way, the depression is helping me decide, because when I weigh up whether I have the energy right now to either self-publish AFTERLIFE, DEMONIZED, and UNDERTOW, or try to find new homes for them, the answer is hell no. I've been trying to keep the series afloat for a long time now, and honestly, whilst I love Ethan Banning to death, I'm basically flogging a dead horse at this point. Part of my heart will always tell me I need to go back and write more stories in this world, with these characters, but after years of telling myself "maybe," I think it's time to tell myself "no."

So that's that. As from December 1st, UNDERTOW will no longer be available. I will leave the Ethan Banning Files short stories available on Amazon and Smashwords, but AFTERLIFE and DEMONIZED will not be republished and I don't intend to write anymore books in this series.

Phew.

Okay. That's it, really. I'm hoping to ease back into writing a bit at a time, and in my ideal world, I'll finish that Amber Morgan book before we take off to Japan at the end of December. Realistically, that probably isn't going to happen, but let's call it a soft goal. In the meantime, I'm off to check my jumper is on the right way round.

"I hate mornings, and Mondays. And working. But other than that I am entirely happy."

I've been in a real writing slump since September. I've been working on an Amber Morgan project ("working" in the loosest sense of the word, because not much work is getting done), which I really should have finished by now, but my motivation levels have been pretty much non-existent. I've been feeling low as a result - when I'm not writing, I'm not happy. It's taken me a while to figure out the problem, and it's a combination of things really, but yesterday I deleted the last 2500 words I wrote on that wip and felt much better.

They weren't bad words. They just weren't the right words. I'm confident that when I go back to the project, I'll be in a better place and frame of mind to tackle and finish it.

That didn't happen yesterday because I had the first round edits for IMPERIAL DEMONS to work on! YAY! This time last year, I was just starting work on this book. I took a break on it to finish LICH QUEEN, so it feels like a lifetime ago that I started it now. I loved getting back to Lola and Tristesse and re-reading the almighty tome that was never going to end that is IMPERIAL DEMONS. I can't wait to share it with you all, and now the first round edits are in the bag, hopefully it won't be too long before I can! I know some people were disappointed with LICH QUEEN and the switch to Dawn, but it was important for me to tell that story and wrap up that story arc in the series. IMPERIAL DEMONS and the next two or three books (haven't decided how many I'll need yet!) will focus on Lola and Tristesse, and the fallout of their time in Gehenna, and I wanted to clear the slate, as it were, before digging into that arc.

So stay tuned - release dates and cover art are surely not far away!

Meanwhile, are we following each other on Instagram? No? Maybe we should! You can find me there as naomi_jay_clark. Evernight's seventh birthday is coming up and part of the celebration is a Loop Giveaway on Instagram!

Myself and 31 other fantastic authors will be taking part on October 23rd.  Each author will have a prize to giveaway and Evernight is offering a few GRAND PRIZES, including gift certificates and prize packs. If you complete the loop, you’ll have the chance to #win at least 35 different prizes.

I’m giving away a collectible THROWN TO THE WOLVES mug, like so:

So hit me up and look out for the giveaway later this month! Following me also has the benefits of seeing silly pictures of Yuki, and you know that's the real prize.

May Accountability

So back at the start of April I decided finishing Imperial Demons in April was a pretty reasonable goal. Now it's May and I think finishing by the end of May is a pretty reasonable goal. This is entirely because I broke my "no new stories" resolution by writing ON A DARK TIDE, but since I got that written, edited, submitted, and accepted in roughly two weeks, I don't feel too bad about taking the break. But I do really want to finish Imperial Demons this month now. Getting back into the swing of things has been hard. Real Life in April is always busy thanks to family birthdays, and I knew the day job was going to be...trying. I also re-opened Common Brimstone in a limited fashion, and have immediately found myself back in the old struggle to balance writing, work, and perfume.

The problem is, of course, the longer I leave a story, the harder it is start up again. I struggled with IN COLD BLOOD last year because I kept doubting it and myself, and ignoring it for days and weeks at a time. I don't have those doubts with Imperial Demons, so I know I just need to carve out that first crucial bit of writing time and dive back in, and all the inspiration and motivation will come flooding back. The next couple of weeks should prove easier in that respect, so I have no excuses. I want this story done, partially so I can move onto the next story, and partially so I can share it with you!

So, the goal for May is simply to work as hard as I can on this book. I will possibly have edits for LICH QUEEN and ON A DARK TIDE heading my way, as both are slated for release in June, but I'll burn that bridge when I get to it, or something... Wish me luck!

Flashback Friday - Allyson Young and Bound by Destiny!

Happy Friday, true believers! I've been pretty quiet round here since finishing Lich Queen, I know. I'm waiting to hear back from a fearless beta-reader on it before I dig into the second draft/submission stage, and in the meantime I decided to finish an Amber Morgan short story from my to-do list. I submitted that earlier this week and am now definitely not checking my inbox every ten minutes for a response. Definitely not.

Anyway! In lieu of news from me, here's your Friday Flashback. Say hello to Allyson Young and the first of her Blue Star Shifters series. Enjoy!

Blurb:

River Fortuna’s wolf is awake and pacing, anticipating their first heat. Traumatized by early misunderstandings of shifter sexuality, River intends to avoid being claimed at all cost. She doesn’t plan on meeting handsome, virile Alpha Jett Reeves.

Jett is instantly drawn to River, his pheromones flooding to trigger her heat and force her sexual surrender, despite her tangible—and unlawful—means of avoidance.

Initially a mindless slave to her hormones, River comes to accept Jett past his ability to assuage her sexual need and falls in love with him. Unable to label his myriad of feelings, Jett doesn’t reciprocate, and she is devastated, realizing she is locked in a lifelong, loveless partnership.

Attacked by a rogue shifter, River wakes with no memory, and Jett must face the fact that what he felt for River all along was love—and find a way to bring her back to him.

Buy Links:

Evernight:http://www.evernightpublishing.com/bound-by-destiny-by-allyson-young/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N09X9LX

Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/bound-by-destiny-mf

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-boundbydestiny-2169036-340.html

Excerpt:

They rode the elevator to the sixth floor in near silence, the eddies of lust making the small space nearly insufferable for him, and his mate leaned against the wall as though she might slip to the floor any moment. Her brow and temples glistened with sweat and her fingers twitched spasmodically. She was coming into her full heat and fighting it all the way.

Stepping off when the doors opened, he strode in the direction the small arrow indicated and found the room within several yards. The key card gave them entrance and he flicked on the light. He shoved the cases just inside the door, blocking the heavy panel with his forearm so it wouldn’t close. “In you go, River.”

Did women trudge? His woman did, despite the trembling of her entire body. His heart ached at her trepidation despite the all-encompassing lust he experienced. Her head down, intense need radiating to pull him in, he threw the deadbolt, and then gave in to what their nature decreed.

 Thrusting his hand through her thick mane, his fingers weaving among the long, silky strands just as he’d fantasized, he drew her head back and forced her to look him in the eyes. Hers were dilated, the rich brown irises nearly eclipsed by the stark black of her pupils. Square, white teeth clenched her full bottom lip, presumably to control panting, because she drew draughts of air in through her nose. He could detect the threads of resignation weaving through her vast need, her intense heat rapidly eclipsing any coherent thought. Regret that he’d caused this once again pierced his own narrowly shrinking focus—but only briefly. He lowered his head and took her mouth.

Sweetness and life burst over his senses at his first taste, and he groaned against her full lips even as his tongue made a foray past them. River totally surrendered, as female wolves do when they met their fated mate, and he barely had time for that thought—fated mate—before he wrapped an arm around her limp form. Two steps and they fell to the big bed, the mattress compressing beneath their combined weight as he ravished her mouth. She opened to let him in and gave up all the flavor that was uniquely her.

He reluctantly tore his lips away to rear up and shred the plain shirt that hid her from his view. Her lightly tanned skin filled his vision as her utilitarian bra met the same fate, and he noted with pleasure how modest her tan lines were. His wolf rose up. Mine. The growling claim resounded in the room and her eyes fluttered open and she blinked. Behind the thicket of her dark lashes, a sexual haze again blurred the rich chocolate, and her lids drifted shut.

Once they came to know one another, their coming together could be slowed and savored, but for now, he needed to visibly establish his claim. His frantic cock shuddered in agreement as he demolished the tough denim of her jeans, taking care not to score her soft skin with a claw.

With her nude beneath him, his gaze drawn to the soft, pale fur at her apex, he willed his other-self back, and his claws retracted. Lord knew what she’d seen when she’d stared up at him. Probably a wild-eyed beast intent on its succulent prey, and he blessed the Mother and the mating heat that River hadn’t screamed in fear. Only an alpha could partially shift, and it was unlikely she’d seen one in such a state before.

His own apparel fell away as he quickly stripped and then blanketed his mate’s writhing form. Velvety flesh met his own in a haze of heat and sensation.

“Please.” Her plea was strangled and all the more evocative because of it.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised. “Always.”

About the author;

Allyson Young lives in cottage country in Manitoba, Canada with her husband and numerous pets. She worked in the human services all across Canada and has seen the best and worst of what people bring to the table. Allyson has written for years, mostly short stories and poetry, published in small newspapers and the like, although her work appeared in her high school yearbooks too! After reading an erotic romance, quite by accident, she decided to try her hand at penning erotica.

Allyson will write until whatever she has inside her is satisfied- when all the heroes man up and all the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and Allyson favours the darker side of romance.

website:  http://www.allysonyoung.com

email: allysonyoung45@gmail.com

FB:  https://www.facebook.com/allyson.young.54

Twitter:  Allyson Young @allysonyoung45

D

Five Things I Hate About Cube

A few weeks ago I was reading a list online. Something along the lines of "ten most gruesome deaths in cinema," I think. I can't remember. It's not important. The important thing is, one of the deaths was from the movie Cube. Cube is a 1997 drama/mystery/sci-fi film (says IMDB) about a giant murdering Rubik's cube and I hate it with a deep and abiding passion. Most of the time it doesn't really affect me day-to-day, but then I read something about it randomly on an online list and it reminds me that it exists and I hate it, and then I tweet about it, and lovely Madeline Franklin asks me why I hate it and I tell her I'm going to write her a freaking essay about it, and here we are.

You bastard.

Let's start with some background. In Cube, we find ourselves watching as six unbearable people wake up to find themselves mysteriously whisked away from their lives to the cube. At first it seems they're just trapped in this one room, but they quickly learn their room is part of an interconnecting series of rooms (or "cubes"), most of which are filled with deadly, deadly traps. Their mission is to escape, which they attempt to do using maths (badly).

There, that's the basic premise. I can't remember where I first saw it, but I was at sixth form and friends with a psychology student who insisted it was an elegant study of the way people's civilised fronts collapse under extreme pressure. I guess that doesn't sound too bad, on reflection. Maybe I'm just not sophisticated enough to enjoy your elegant social breakdown movies, Jenny. Maybe I'm the problem.

But I'm not. And here are five reasons why.

1. It's pretentious.

Honestly, I'm not a sophisticated film-watcher. But that's fine, because Cube is not sophisticated in my opinion, it's bullshit and pretentious. Each of the characters is named after a famous prison get it because they're imprisoned. Clever. I could probably deal with that by itself, but the plot is pure high-concept fluff with no depth whatsoever. Giant murder cube, built by ~someone~ for ~reasons that are never revealed~ because ~who even knows?~ We never find out, really, who built the cube or why. One of the prisoners, Worth, turns out to have been involved in the design, but doesn't actually know what he was designing or why or who for, because apparently when shadowy agencies ask you to design giant murder cubes, you don't worry about the purpose of said murder cube. Just collect your paycheck, Worth.

We never find out why these people have been chosen. I mean, Quentin's a dick (see point two), but none of them appear to be bad people. They were snatched for no reason by forces that are never revealed for a purpose that is never revealed. Maybe this is actually a clever commentary on how life is random and there's no underlying cosmic order to anything, or maybe the writers just couldn't think of a good explanation. You decide!

Again, I'm not a sophisticated film-watcher. I like superheroes and explosions and fantasy escapism. But my favourite films have more to them than just "because reasons" and I don't think that's too high a bar to clear. Telling me the cube just exists, that people are just kidnapped and put in it just because - that's not clever storytelling. We're expecting to overlook it because omg death traps! In cubes! I guess it's not dissimilar from The Human Centipede* where we're expected to just accept that Dr Whatisface is kidnapping people and sewing them together because he's just that wacky, you guys.

Step 1: sew people together
Step 2: ???
Step 3: ???????????????

High-concepts are fine, but they need to be backed up with solid storytelling and characters I can invest in. Which brings me to point two...

2. I fucking hate everyone in it.

Yes, all of them. The mathematical genius schoolgirl. The conspiracy theorist doctor. The angry cop. The other guys. This is purely subjective, of course, but if all of them were drowning and I only had time to save one, I'd make a sandwich.

Some of this is down to the acting, which is about as good as you can expect for cheaply-made 90s pretentious bullshit film. The dialogue doesn't help. For example:

Holloway: I think we have to ask the big questions! What does it want? What is it thinking?

It's a cube, lady! It's not thinking at all! That's...that's kind of the deal with rooms, even murder rooms.

Leaven: Give us the boot you pig!
Quentin: You don't want the boot!

What? What? I guess there's only so much even the best actor can do with "you don't want the boot." Beyond the bad acting and dialogue, these characters are not likable. Maybe they're not meant to be. Maybe we're meant to root for their grim deaths like bloodthirsty barbarians, thus proving ultimately that we, the viewers, are the real ones collapsing under the weight of our self-imposed civility. I don't know. Fuck them all. I especially hate the cop.

Partly because he's portrayed as an aggressive bully, so probably I'm at least meant to hate him, but also because "angry black man" wasn't a great look in 1997, or ever, in fact, especially in film where the characterisations are paper-thin anyway. Plus he gets a bit rapey/religious at the end.

When I watch a film I want someone to root for. Equally, I want someone for them to overcome. I can't get passionate about paper tigers stuck in a soulless death trap. Where's the bad guy for me to hate? I can't hate a cube! It's a cube. It's got no motivations. And I can't hate whoever's behind the cube because I don't even know if they fucking exist.

3. There's no resolution.

For the record, I haven't seen either of the sequels to Cube and I never will. So I accept that maybe there are some revelations I've missed out on. But as a standalone piece, there is no resolution to Cube.

The basic rules of storytelling, as I was taught are: establish the status quo > disrupt it > resolve it.

A resolution doesn't necessarily have to tie everything up neatly - and I believe there is a strong case sometimes for giving readers/viewers an ambiguous ending. However, I also believe that you have to give readers/viewers the opportunity to extrapolate a reasonable ending from the material presented. I don't believe Cube does that. Theories as to the "why" of the cube range from aliens to the government to super-villain, but no compelling evidence is dropped for any of these, and actually neither the characters nor the film itself really care because look at these murder rooms, dammit. Worth's story pushes us towards "the government probably did it" but he doesn't really know and there are no clues within the cube to help the viewers out.

The film ends with everyone dead except Kazan, an idiot savant, who walks into a bright light.

That's...that's it. He walks into a bright light and the film ends. That's it, that's the whole fucking film after I wasted all that fucking time watching these horrible people be horrible to each other in this horrible cube, that's all I fucking get. We don't see where he goes. We don't know if he's even going into another murder room or out of the cube. We get nothing. Nothing to draw even a speculative conclusion with. Fuck that film. That's deeply unsatisfying and it doesn't resolve anything.

4. It's full of botches.

Leaven wears glasses that are cracked at the start of the film and magically repair themselves throughout, then break again, then fix themselves again.

Quentin brutally beats Worth about the face with a boot, leaving him apparently close to death but also sporting just the most tasteful and delicate of wounds. I would show you a picture, but googling "Worth Cube movie" just gets me a lot of info about Ice Cube and his net worth. Trust me, Worth doesn't look like he's been pummeled by a maniac with a boot.

Those are continuity goofs, which happen, and probably aren't worth hating a film for. But the maths. The maths is bad. And a huge portion of this film depends on the maths being right, because it's what (potentially) can save our horrible cast. Briefly, each doorway in each murder room is inscribed with a set of numbers. Mathematical genius Leaven works out that these numbers may indicate which rooms are trapped, theorising that prime numbers equal trapped rooms. Later she realises it's actually powers of prime numbers that indicate traps, and luckily Kazan can work those out in his head because the plot requires it. Huzzahs!

Unfortunately, Kazan (or rather the writers) actually make several miscalculations, such as saying 462 has three prime factors when it has four, for example. Leaven, our alleged mathematical genius also makes some errors which would be fine if they were supposed to be errors, but they're not treated or flagged as such, and the whole fucking plot of this stupid fucking film hinges on prime numbers and powers of primes and these two characters knowing how to calculate them so why didn't the writers check the fucking maths?

Also there's one scene where you can see some staging equipment, but I don't want to be petty.

5. It's ultimately nihilistic.

Everyone dies at the end. Kazan might live, but we don't know because the stupid film doesn't end properly, but I think we can assume nothing good awaits him. I mean, it's either aliens or some shady humans who think nothing of kidnapping innocent people and putting them in the cube for no reason.

Nothing is revealed. Not the nature of the cube, not the builders, not the purpose.

Everything is shit. That's the lesson of this film. That you can be good, bad, bland, whatever, and it doesn't matter how you're living your life, you can still end up dead in the cube and unless you're a mathematical genius, you'll die, and even if you are a mathematical genius you'll still die, because fuck you. You can be kind or cruel, you can work together or strike out alone, and ultimately it's all futile because the murder cube will murder you. You will learn nothing. You will not develop as a person, except possibly into a worse person. The bad guys will win, assuming there are bad guys. There might not be. We don't know! These characters may just be the victims of a cold, uncaring universe where nothing they do matters because nothing anyone does matters. Maybe I should like that, because I love HP Lovecraft, but at least he gave us Cthulhu:

All Cube gave me was a deep-rooted anger problem. Then again, it's been over a decade since I last watched the stupid film and I'm still talking about it, so maybe...maybe it achieved something?

*Now there's a comparison I never thought I'd make.

The Care and Feeding of the Sick Writer

So I'm off work sick today. It feels like a virus, with an added dose of "maybe something wrong with my sinuses?" I'm breathless, hot, tired, and sneezing like a maniac. I rang a local taxi company this morning (twice!) instead of my office to call in sick, and I sent the wrong version of IN COLD BLOOD to my publisher last night after two days of editing. Definitely not in the right state to go to work and handle audits and make decisions, at least not today. And since my office is based in a hospital, I'm always slightly suspicious that I'm just going to attract more germs as I walk around.

I have this bad habit, when I'm home sick, of feeling like I still need to be a productive adult and get shit done, but given that I'm getting out of breath just walking around the house, I'm trying to resist that urge today. Luckily for me, Kyle is working from home and has heroically already supplied me with cold and flu meds, soup, and red velvet cookies. Yuki is a terrible nursemaid, and is skulking in the garden, but I'm sure she's wishing me well from a safe distance. Possibly she's consulting one of her many shrew friends for herbal remedies.

While she's doubtless questing for my cure, I'm kitting myself out for a day of huddling on the sofa with a few basic essentials.

1. Music.

Actually, Kyle picked the music, but there's never a bad time to listen to Bad Religion, and with world politics being what they are (ie, a fucking mess), they seem particularly relevant right now.


2. Tea.

I mean, this is me, so there would be tea anyway. But today I'm indulging with flowering tea from Beastly Beverages. Ideally I should have an elegant glass tea cup to show this tea off in, but I'm making do with my matcha tea bowl instead.

Incidentally, if you love fandom and tea, consider supporting Beastly Beverages! I do believe if you spend over £10 in January, you get a free gift. I recommend Pooka, the Black Forest Gateau tea.

3. Reading Material.

I recently discovered Highbrow, which offers free, bitesize online learning courses in everything from web marketing to desk yoga. I'm currently signed up for their Deadliest Dictators In History course for no reason whatsoever. Today it's Stalin, so that's cheerful. But, you know, if we don't learn from history, etc...

4. Casual Games

I'm a big fan of hidden object/puzzle games, because they're (usually) quick and I can dip in and out of them whilst writing. I've got a few piled up that I bought over Christmas and haven't tried out yet, so, assuming I won't be able to brain enough to write, I'm thinking of dipping into Rusty Lake Hotel. Although that might take more brain power than I have, in which case my back-up is Shadow Era. This is a collectible card game that I've been playing FOREVER and I love it. I love the art, I love the mythos, and I love the music. It's perfect for dipping in and out of. More than likely, however, I'll switch off the laptop entirely and play Pokemon X because...Pokemon.

5. Writing?

Maybe? I don't know. I always feel like if I'm at home with nothing else more pressing going on, I should write. I never don't want to write. It's the only thing I do that never feels like a chore, but I guess some days you have to give yourself a pass. I'm definitely not feeling like I could produce anything decent right now, so whilst the urge to at least try is still there, I'd probably do better to just disengage my brain for now. I still really want to finish Lich Queen by the end of January, but one day isn't going to be make or break, and given that it took me three attempts just now to write "going" instead of "working," I obviously can't trust my fingers today.

Anyway! Yuki has returned from the garden to spy on me and make sure I don't die before her tea time. I'm off to drink gallons of tea and read about Stalin. Happy Monday!

Constant vigilance is the price of regular meal times.

Monday Check-In: The Final One

So after feeling like a slacker last week and posting a Friday blog about how slacky I was, I promptly sat down and added 2k to Pale Queen that night, thus feeling much less slacky. Huzzahs! Apart from that the weekend was writing-lite. I added another 600 words to Pale Queen yesterday evening, but lost most of Sunday to watching Batman v Superman and Suicide Squad, and then ranting about how I would have improved Suicide Squad to Kyle for hours. I might blog about that. I've got a lot of Feelings, idk.

I can't even remember what I did on Saturday apart from prep and ship perfume orders, which worries me slightly.

Oh! I lie - I went to the theatre with my BFF to see Lady Chatterley's Lover! I don't know how I forgot that as there was a good meal involved, and also a hell of a lot of nudity (on the part of the actors).

Anyway! Plans for this week on the writing front: pick up the pace, basically. I'm happy with the progress I'm making on Pale Queen and Through Fire, but would really like to be further along with both before I go away next Wednesday. I'm also still waiting for edits on THROWN TO THE WOLVES, which, probably, will come through while I'm in Morocco knowing my luck. That doesn't matter, as there's a two-week turn around for first round edits with Evernight, but I always like to get them done well before the deadline if I can. In among all this, I have to prepare for going on holiday, by which I mean I have to prepare my boss for me going on holiday, because as of last week she'd forgotten I was going on holiday. When I got back from Iceland, I had many emails from her along the lines of "thank god you're back, I barely coped, also my luggage is in Atlanta." Hopefully this time while I'm away, she won't have that problem.

Anyway! That's pretty much that. See you Wednesday for a snippet!

Friday Check-In: The Underachieving Edition

So I have very little to report today, as I have written very little this week. I've added 1k to an Amber Morgan project, but nothing to either Pale Queen or Through Fire. Mostly this is because I've been exhausted in the evenings. Hopefully I can make up some ground over the weekend. I'm off to the theatre ~darlings~ tomorrow night, where my ex-housemate and I are hoping for a trashy and hammy performance of Lady Chatterley's Lover, but I think otherwise there's nothing on the agenda.

So there is plenty of time for tea-fueled writing yet! Hopefully when I come back on Monday for the last week of Anti-Nano (well, the last days, I guess), I'll have plenty of stuff to update you on that doesn't revolve around Westworld, Masterchef, or Lucha Undergroud (the other reasons I've not been getting anything done this week. I don't normally watch a lot of TV, but at the moment there's just a ton of good stuff going on).

Anyway! That's my boring check-in. Have a good weekend, everyone!

"I don't know anything about music. In my line you don't have to."

So! London happened! On Friday Kyle went down (or up, I guess?) for the London tattoo convention, and on Saturday I headed in, having apologised profusely to Yuki for leaving her (she has abandonment issues). We went into Camden for a good old poke around the market, and I was reminded that I hate Cyberdog and everything associated with it. For those who don't know, Cyberdog is a clothing brand, and their Camden shop is basically a rave where you can buy glow-in-the-dark everything and I hate it. It's hot, they play fucking awful rave music, and I hate it. Kyle loves it, so we always visit when we go to Camden, but it's my least favourite part of visiting.

Anyway! We didn't spend long there in any case, and there's so much else to look at in Camden that I don't really mind visiting too much. And actually, our main mission was to find somewhere to eat before the Scandal gig, so once Kyle had bought a glow-in-the-dark t-shirt, we headed off to scout the local restaurants. We ended up at a grill called Q, having been lured in by the promise of sweet tea and whiskey cocktails.

Cheers!

The food was amazing - the kind of soul food you know is contributing to your eventual heart problems, but is just too good to say no to anyway. I had fried chicken with cornbread waffles and maple butter, and Kyle went for buttermilk chicken with sweet potatoes, and oh my god, I wish I was eating it all again right now.

Heroic amounts of carbs were consumed.

Adequately fuelled for the gig, we headed to Islington, planning to find a pub near the venue and kill some time before the doors opened at 7pm. We got to Islington about 5pm, walked past the O2 Academy and saw the queue was already stretching around the block, so figured we'd better join in. As it turns out, because Kyle has an O2 phone for work, we were allowed to jump the queue a bit, so that's worth knowing if you're going there for a concert, I guess!

I had no idea what to expect from the concert crowd. Scandal are a Japanese band (I hesitate to say girl band, because they're all in their late twenties), and I guess I'd made some assumptions about what sort of fans they might have. Some of those assumptions were correct (there were a lot of single men there, just standing at the back of the hall, staring at the stage, not dancing or interacting with anyone), but by and large, there was a really good vibe.

This was somewhat marred by the merchandise vendor who tried to sell me wrist bands I didn't want, and who then asked Kyle why he was letting a woman make financial decisions in a "haha, but I'm not really joking" kind of way. I didn't quite make a scene, but we both made it clear we weren't amused and I really hope he didn't subject every woman he tried to force wrist bands on to the same treatment.

Inside the venue, we were pounced on by a random girl who ran up to us and yelled, "you live in Milton, don't you?" then proclaimed she recognised Kyle's beard and my hair, and that she had seen us walking to Tescos, which...was weird? But she was nice, and it turns out we did vaguely know her boyfriend, so I managed to master my anxiety over strangers running up to me and acting like we're friends.

The gig itself was great - I didn't really know the music, but it was easy to get into and the band were really fun.

 

Afterwards, with our new friends in tow, we headed back to Cambridge prepared to be soundly told off by Yuki for going out without her.

She couldn't decide whether she was sad about being alone or delighted we were home, and settled for just spying on us for the rest of the night and all day Sunday to make sure we didn't do it again.

My plan for Sunday was really to just chill out and finish writing Thrown to the Wolves, and hopefully submit it. Instead I just chilled out and lazed around on the sofa all day with a terrible head cold. I'm slightly annoyed with myself for not getting on with it, but to be honest, I think I probably made the right choice, as I don't think I would have been producing my best work in any case. This does mean I'm now unlikely to get Blood Canticles 3 started this month, but since the only person I have to answer to as far as deadlines go is me, I've decided to be lenient with myself. Maybe I haven't been as productive as I was last year writing-wise, but I haven't exactly slacked off either, and I probably need to remind myself that two novels and two novellas, with another one nearly in the bag and two re-published works under my belt for the year is nothing to be sniffed at. And in my defence, I was still pretty full of fried chicken and cornbread waffles.

So the plan for this week is now the same as it was last week - finish and submit Thrown to the Wolves. Since I have almost finished writing it, this is a pretty doable goal. I say that confidently, like I haven't been saying it for two weeks now...but this time I mean it! Watch this space.

"Our great weariness comes from work not done."

The shocking realisation has hit me that it's August, it's bloody well August, August is actually here and is a thing that is happening now and I still haven't finished In Cold Blood. I started working on it in all earnest in April, and given that it was supposed to be a nice, quick 30k novella, I really should be done with it by now. Unfortunately, it's currently a nice 35k novella and still not done and oh my god what am I doing with my time?

The answer, perhaps obviously, is "not writing." Between April and now, a lot of stuff has happened. Kyle has had back surgery, which he's still recovering from. We lost Rem. The day job has been manic. Common Brimstone has been manic. Brexit happened. I wrote a 21k novella under my Amber Morgan pen name. Okay, so that was writing, it just wasn't writing on In Cold Blood.

I really am determined to get this book done this month, because the only reason I've been stalling is that I'm worried it's rubbish. Which...I mean, it could be, but I can't improve it by leaving it unfinished. And it's probably not rubbish; I'm just somewhere in the middle of this handy chart right now:

Why am I so worried? I guess because this book has a lot to do. It's set in the Urban Wolf world, but Ayla and Shannon are nowhere to be seen. It needs to set up an entirely new aspect of the world, as well as expand on a previously mentioned one. My heroine is a nervous wreck and my love interest isn't very good at being a human and they're quite hard characters to write. I stalled for four weeks on the last chapter because I kept panicking over whether these two people would do this thing, and every time I opened the manuscript to get shit the fuck done, I just found myself reading articles about Brexit instead. Thanks, Brexit.

I really was starting to feel like I would have to abandon the whole book, and that feeling came around the same time we had to have Rem put to sleep, so basically I was not having a good time at all, which made it even harder to figure out whether to carry on writing or give this up as a lost cause. I really, really, really did not want to quit. I'm very precious and selfish about my writing time, because between everything else I do and the state of my shoulders, arms, and wrists, there isn't a lot of it. To admit that I'd wasted nearly five months of writing time on a book that I couldn't finish would have been maddening.

But I couldn't figure out how to break through this block, and then I convinced myself it was because I'm a terrible writer who writes terribly and is too terrible to realise it. And that spurred me on to research loads of techniques for just sitting down, shutting up, and fucking writing, because I got sick of my own anxious internal monologue.

That lead to me sitting down last weekend with a timer app on my phone, setting it for five minutes, and just...writing. Maybe that sounds like a "well, duh, what the fuck were you doing before?" kind of thing, but honestly it's been a bit of a revelation for me. Instead of pottering around the internet all day and hopefully cranking out 1000 words (which is what I aim for each day), I worked like this for half an hour and wrote 1500 words. This is freaking awesome, and all I had to do was put my brain on notice for five minute intervals, like "THIS IS IT, GO GO GO OR SOMETHING BAD WILL HAPPEN MAYBE!"

A revelation. It works. I just have to take away the time to worry about what I'm writing. Unfortunately, because work and Common Brimstone both stayed manic last week, I didn't have time to use this sprint-method again until this Saturday just gone, but hey - in one hour on Saturday I got over 2k written. I can't be unhappy with that when I got precisely 0k written for most of July.

And best of all, I broke the back of that chapter that was causing me so much doubt and stress, and now the end is realistically in sight. Huzzahs! So this is my plan going forward - sprint-writing for five minutes at a time, for as long as my arms will stand up to it. Every day if possible, but we'll see. I'm confident I can finish In Cold Blood by the end of August that way, and then I can assess whether or not it's an actual dumpster fire or a good book. Wish me luck!