March 31, 2017

Announcements, Monthly Author Check-In, Personal

Dear March 2017, Don’t Let the Door Hit You on the Way Out

So here’s the thing: March was a disaster of a month for me. Between a family member being in the hospital and the crappiest weather possible and car repairs and a thousand little headaches, these past 31 days have taken 31 years. Which sucks even more than it should have, because JUST before this all hit the fan, I had an unexpected three-day writing binge and finished the manuscript of a new book.

I know! I hadn’t planned to finish this book for MONTHS, I’ll be honest. So the enthusiasm that I carried with me into the beginning of March was unbelievable. I was pumped up, I was in “the zone”, and I was tentatively hopeful that I could get the vast bulk of the editing done by the time April rolled around.

Oh, my naive younger self! I weep for your optimism.

But! My time under the pipe feels as if it’s waning, finally. And although I had to struggle and scrape for every last word, my book is still taking shape. And guys, it is… it’s one of my favorite things that I’ve ever written. I’ll be making it’s own proper announcement post soon, full of excitement and cover reveals and details. For now, I’m just going to say that it’s a new work for me, a (temporary!) creative break from The Beacon Campaigns, and that it’s about superheroes. And comics. And superheroes about comics, and—

And, okay, fine. Here’s a small teaser:

Jane approached the window with caution. Night had blanketed the city. A thousand lights winked through a shifting haze of smog, muddying the familiar landscape, but it was still enough. The park, City Hall, the skyline that she’d committed to both memory and paper so many times over.

Except for one piece: a gap, like a missing tooth, in the heart of downtown. Several key buildings were just gone, leaving nothing but twisted, blackened metal that rose like skeletal trees after a wildfire. Jane touched the window, the glass chilled beneath her fingers, as she traced their lines.

“What happened?”

“Doctor Demolition happened,” Cal said. He’d come to stand just behind her, his reflection hovering beyond her shoulder. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Jane, but… you’re on a parallel world. Six months ago, Doctor Demolition developed a deadly weapon, one with the power to destroy a whole city block. We tried to stop him. We finally discovered where he was keeping it, but when we got there—”

“He’d already moved it,” Jane said. She was still staring out at the cityscape, her eyes instinctively seeking out the major landmarks. Along the edge of the gap, she spotted it. She pointed, her finger pressed against the glass. “To there: the top of Mercury Tower.”

It wasn’t much of a tower anymore—half melted, nothing but a handful of twisted girders.

Jane sought out Cal’s eyes in the reflection. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Cal nodded. Shock was written plain on his face. “You’re right. How did you—?”

“Because I wrote it.”