dragons of night

Love isn't money

attachment-50c906d9e4b0496d86705a81

It's not something you buy
Let me fill myself with tears you cry

You know I am in a fun mood when I open a post with a quote from Black Sabbath. I've had Wishing Well stuck in my head all week.

As a writer, I want to entertain people, but I also want to share something intensely person. Something that con only be shared through stories.

I love it when I hear from you all. You make all the soul searching worth it. But, I feel a strong urge to be original. To tell stories that are different from the ones I read, watch, and listen to.

The problem with originality is getting other people into it. I read the reviews and so often they make me smile.

As I work on this story, I wanted to return to the things I love. You can really see that in Wand and Weaver: The Chain.

The other problem with my struggle for originality is that it fills my head with more stories than I know what to do with.

So, I think I have seen a way forward. Wand and Weaver is a bigger story than I can easily tell, but I think I have found a way to do it.

I have changed my focus for the serial. I am going to tell a story that parallels the main story so I can give you all a fuller image of what is going in in the world.

I'm still not sure what I am going to do with the story if Amazon Serials doesn't take it. I am looking for options if you know about any.

What other stories in the Dragons of Night world do you want to read? Let me know.

Writing from the Heart

When Ray Bradbury died, I decided to spend a year with his book Zen and the art of writing. A part of that, for me, meant that I would write one short story a week like he suggests. I knew these stories would be personal. I would have to dig deep to find something to write about every week. This week was all too easy.

My beloved Smokey JoeMy dog died on Monday. I've never been much of a dog person. He originally belonged to my mother. When he was diagnosed with epilepsy, I adopted him so that I could make sure that he got his medicine on schedule.

I have a lot of pets in my life. I've had numerous dogs, cats, fish, hermit crabs, and hamsters… But he was different. He was special. I think because he had spells every now and then, and that I would hold him while his poor little body shook, and listen to him cry, as I work to get the medicine in him the doctor recommended, I became more protective of him than any other pet I ever had.

His last couple days were really hard. He started having seizures on Thursday night, and at first, nothing was different. But this time they just didn't stop. The vet told us to keep giving him the medicine, until he got back to normal. Eventually Thursday night, the seizures stopped, and he fell asleep. I won't go into detail about everything that happened those last few days. I will say that I have rarely ever felt that helpless in my life.

So this week when it was time to write a story, I use that as the inspiration. I wrote a story in my new setting about the character losing a beloved pet. Since it's me, it of course became a little bit more complicated. Now, I sincerely don't know what to do with it.

I don't know how long it'll be before I can even edit the story. It is so personal, that I feel like I would be publishing pages from a secret diary if I put it out somewhere. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe that means I wrote something so honest that if I shared it with the world, the world would see a piece, a part of my soul.

I know that sounds flighty, even airy fairy, but one of the things I've been wanting to do more and more, is find a way to make my fiction more honest.

Fiction is the arts of the well-crafted lie. The more honest that lie, the more likely a reader will be able to believe it long enough to enjoy the story. I don't find a lot of honesty in fantasy books. I don't find a lots of honesty in science fiction. And why should we? These are the genre of the imagination. But if that imagination isn't rooted in something so true you can feel it in your bones, then why should anyone bother to read, to love it, or let it infiltrate their dreams?

I suppose, that is the quest I am currently on. I am trying to find the meeting place between my imagination and my truth. There has to be a bridge somewhere that will allow me to bring these two things together in a pure and honest way. I feel like I did that with The Chain, and I know I did that with my new short. Once, I grow the courage to not only tell these stories, but to share them and live them, I will at least have done something meaningful with my life.

I wish you all luck on finding something that gives you as much meaning and purpose as my writing gives me. I would love to know what that is for you. Why don't you leave your purpose or what you find meaning in within the comments below. Thank you ahead of time for your continued inspiration.