Tag Archives: gingerbread

sometimes I amuse myself.

book i just sent to first readers (Gingerbread):

The House itself was a goth version of Baba Yaga’s hut, a nightmare on stilts and claws, perched on the side of this hill where I was sure nothing ever really grew, not to blooming, anyway, everything half dead and brittle. Even on Arwen’s death-day, in the middle of summer in this place that never stayed all that hot, the grass had been brown, almost burnt. In the movies vampires hated the sun unless they had magic rings or could hide in the shadows or under blankets. Finding shadows deep enough to disappear in was difficult here, unless you liked them thin and spindly. I wasn’t even sure the trees we’d walked through had ever sported more than a handful, more than a straggle of leaves. Around us the wind was like wolves, howling. I pushed my toque down over my forehead with my forearm. A step, something brittle cracked underfoot.

I looked up. The house’s winged protectors looked down at us, their stone beaks holding pools dank, rotten mulch. Dirty icicles, the grey of fire smoke, hung from their violent mouths.

book i decided to pick up again (Ellis)

Ellis didn’t always live in the Seventh Tip. Once she lived dead-middle, in Ferrule, a place of rats and cats and hammered tin. She lived in a house with a pointed roof where the floorboards creaked and water dripped from unseen spigots and gargoyles, long blinded by the wind, perched carefully on each of its four corners.

I am nothing if not dependable :D

a draft, like a breeze coming in through the cracks in the walls.

So I started Gingerbread in May 2014.  About six months later, maybe more, it became The Place Where We Belong, but now it’s the GingerbreadProject because I haven’t found a title for it yet and for me, no title is better than wrong title.  I seem to have started this project in May of 2014, the file that I have from that date is about 16K and most of it doesn’t exist in the current draft. Versions, sure,  looking a bit like twins separated at birth who go on to live separate lives, but there are huge chunks that just got caught away.

I finished the zero draft, which I’d written out of order in bits and pieces (I’m also working on short fiction as the mood strikes), on March 19, 2015, and yesterday the book that I’d cobbled together and had to almost entirely re-write,  is now a magical first draft, at 57,000 words.  3 months isn’t so bad, and it showed me a thing or two about who I am and how I work.  I’ve written my whole life, and although I don’t know if trying to have a novel published is a thing I want, I also don’t know if it’s a thing I don’t want, which puts me in a unique place in my own head. I think it is. But I also know it’s not a thing I’m hitching my wagon to.  I will be okay, either way.

I do think that I have a unique voice, and I’m proud of my little book and I want to be part of the voice of writers that write about diversity and inclusiveness, and I want to be part of that movement. I might be a super white cis-gendered yuppy, but I know how much it hurts when the people around you don’t feel you have value.  I know how hard people will work at trying to convince you (us. me.)  it’s true.  I want to tell a different story.

I found this image today, and it’s amazing:

alchemical rosicrucian


The flowers, the crown. Crown for the Blood King and flowers for the garden of Eden. Not canonical, of course, but I have borrowed so many small things from the Order of the Golden Dawn, and the Voynich MSS, that this combination, just makes me happy.  There’s a part of the book where the MC, Haven, is looking at tapestries on the second floor of the Blood House, and I suspect this one will be there, hanging outside the Rose Room, where Haven first meets the Blood King.  It’s interesting that it popped up after I’d spent half the morning looking at the tattoos of Kristen Holliday (which are amazing, btw), because the flowers and crown would look so, so beautiful in ink (I mean seriously, look at those tattoos!).  Jamie Lee Moyer tumbled the link to Kristen’s blog, and yay for tumbler (And Jamie!)

So,  now I’m thinking about all of this again, all of this magical mystical business. I’m not a scholar, and I never have been, so the chance of me writing some complex thing is very, very unlikely.  I always wonder why we can’t have books in which people just sit about and drink tea.