Month: September 2019

Rambling: Headspace

Rambling: Headspace

by Heather ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I’ve been in a strange headspace this last little while. Some weird combination of anxiety and confidence, dread anticipation mixed with hope.

My anxiety has been flaring up left, right, and centre for at least a week. I’ve done what I can to keep it in check, pushing the negative thoughts to the side and directing my mind to think about my story. Thinking on my writing is actually becoming an incredibly helpful tool for regulating myself, which is pretty cool. I just start imagining a scene, or thinking about where I want to take the story, and I get engrossed in it. It’s great!

But it isn’t perfect. Sometimes I just can’t quite get it to work right.

And I speculate that thinking about publishing my stories so much is contributing. As much as I would love to have published work, the idea of actually putting it out there is a bit terrifying. What if everyone hates it, despite the positive words I’ve received on it already? What if there is some huge plot hole I missed?

And to add to all this, work has insisted that all unbilled WIP (work in progress) get billed this month, which means that I am doing at least 50% more bills this month than I normally do.

Stress levels are high.

Current finances don’t exactly help. Part of why I want to publish my books soon, and why I care so much about whether they sell or not. It would be lovely to have a little extra to be able to put towards the debt.

As I type this, I realize just how much I do not like talking, or writing, about me having feelings like this. I guess I would rather deny them, than give proof to the world that I am less than perfect.

Silliness. Pretty sure the world knows I’m less than perfect and is OK with it, since perfection in unattainable.

Whatever. I’m just gonna wallow and leave the rest of you alone.

Ta.
Arcia

Storytime: The Clowns

Storytime: The Clowns

by Heather ♥ 2 Comments

Catch up with Part One here!

It was a dark and stormy night.

Sam chuckled to herself as she stood at the bus stop, idly twirling a lock of bright pink hair that faded into a purple at the tips, ignoring the rain that fell around her, drenching her. It was only when the rain had thoroughly soaked through her hair that she sighed and dropped the lock she was playing with. Adjusting the backpack around her vestigial wings, grumbling again about their uselessness and threatening to nobody in particular that she was going to cut them off, this time, for real!

She never would, of course. They were as much a part of her as the bright color of her hair or the gray of her eyes; a gift from her full mutant mother. The only gifts she had from her mother, to be honest, since she had been killed in one of the mutant purges when Sam was still just a little girl.

“Ugh!” Sam sighed, her mood now matching the dreary landscape around her. Stomping her feet for warmth, Sam peered down the road, searching for the two bright lights in the darkness that would signal the hover bus. She hated taking the bus, but freelancing work had dried up in the last couple weeks and she couldn’t afford her preferred mode of transport, the underground bullet train. At least it should be fairly empty at this hour; any later or earlier and she would be fighting the holo bar crowds.

Beside her, a pole with a holo display that was supposed to show the next hover bus arrival, but some kids had hacked it and all it showed was a laughing clowns face. Sam rolled her eyes at the crass image; she had read that clowns had once brought joy, had performed silly tricks, but they had been a symbol of the underground, of the oppressed mutants and those who sympathized with them, for as long as she had lived.

Once upon a time, she might have been the punk kid who hacked the terminal with a clowns face, just to prove she could, to show the mutants had a voice. But that didn’t pay the bills.

It was funny what becoming a full citizen had meant for her. Since she was only a half-mutant, they had let her apply on her 18th birthday for citizenship rights. It hadn’t been the amazing moment she had dreamed of, growing up in the alleys and slums. They had chipped her so she could be tracked, gave her five rudimentary classes on her responsibilities as a citizen and the options she now had, and then they shoved her out the door, just as homeless as she had been before. The biggest different was that now they could track her, and they expected her to be a productive member of the city. It made it a little harder to connect with, and help, old acquaintances, but she persevered.

It was why she was standing in the rain waiting for the hover bus that wouldn’t – Sam perked up, hearing a change in the downpour that was followed by muted headlights heading towards the stop. The hover bus emerged from the darkness, its squat shape comical as it slowed to a stop by Sam, lowering itself several feet to allow her to step aboard. As she was about to enter, she saw the destination ticker flicker with a clown image before resuming its text.

The clowns were out in force tonight, it seemed. Maybe that was why Tash had sent Sam that message, routed through so many back channels that by the time authorities traced its source, they would be long gone. At least, that was the idea. Sam had seen sloppy routing destroy more than one underground family. Tash was one of the best, though. None of her messages were ever traced; Tash always put a hidden camera in their abandoned hideaways, to monitor if they would be useable again one day.

Sam settled down on a seat in the empty bus, picking up her lock of hair to twirl it between her fingers again as she wondered what Tash wanted, and if she would even be able to help.

Make sure you check out Part Three here!

Ramblings: Decision Time

Ramblings: Decision Time

by Heather ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

So, in light of me nearing completion on the short story I’ve been working on, I have been researching pricing for indie short story e-books. I stumbled upon some surprising information and comparisons between being an indie-published author and a traditionally-published author. Traditionally published books typically are set at a higher price than an indie-published book, and yet the royalties kicked back to the author on a traditionally-published book seem to be a FRACTION of what an indie-published book would garner.

The services that a traditional publisher would provide, such as covers and editing, are services that a lot of freelancers offer, for far cheaper than what you get through a traditional publisher. If you even use a freelancer – lots of writers out there are artists in their own right, and can probably create their own cover pages.

So what does this mean for me? It means that I think, I might, just possibly, maybe self-publish my main WIP, my Wings series.

It would mean that I could get it out in the world a lot sooner, which would be really exciting. It would mean that I don’t need to spend $20+ every time I send my manuscript out to another publisher for consideration. Money that I really don’t have to be wasting, when maybe I could put that to better use, such as towards a professional cover for my book.

I will need to garner interest in my book on my own, rather than relying on someone else, but that isn’t an issue to me. I’m passionate about what I write, and I know that shines through. I love my story.

So I’m not sure when it will happen, I will need to look into a cover and maybe give it one last wipe with the ol’ polishing cloth.

But, loves, you are going to see my name in print! It will be glorious.

Believe!
~Arc

Storytime: Deadline

Storytime: Deadline

by Heather ♥ 2 Comments

The soft blue glow of her monitors reflected off of Sam’s glasses, the only light in the dark bedroom. Although it was a bright, early summer morning, Sam had the curtains drawn tight over the single window; it could have been a dark and stormy night for all she cared or noticed. Sam tilted her head in thought, If there was a storm, she would need to back up her work, but otherwise it wouldn’t matter.

Sam finished the line she was typing and pushed herself away from the holo-monitors, taking off her glasses to rub fatigued eyes. It was morning again, and she hadn’t slept a wink all night. Her stomach growled, reminding her that it was probably long past time to eat.

With a sigh, she levered herself out of her chair, the latest in hover technology it powered itself down as she stood up, even as the lights in her room turned on, sensing that she was no longer at her desk.

Sam stretched, grabbed a pullover to keep her housemates from getting upset at her walking around without pants, and left her room in search of food.

“Long night, Sam?” A voice called to her from down the hall. Sam glanced over, brushing a stray lock of hair from her eyes, and grinned at Jayme, raising her hand slightly in greeting, a sheepish look on her face.

“Yea, time got away from me, again. Need grub.”

“Lucky for you, the drones just brought another delivery. Kitchen’s stocked. Oh, and your rent is due tomorrow, don’t forget.”

The grin dropped from Sam’s face. Rent. That was why she had pulled the all-nighter, she had to turn in this project today or there went her rent money. This freelance business was not working out quite as she had hoped. When business was good, it was great! But as soon as it dried up for any reason, well, then she would be pulling all-nighters for shitty pay.

Waling into the kitchen, Sam pressed the button on the side of the fridge that caused its doors to become transparent, allowing her to peer at the contents without opening the doors. Jayme was right – the fridge was full, and yet nothing appealed to Sam. Finally, she just grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and flopped down on the couch, putting her feet up on the armrest and stretching out along its length.

“TV – turn on, change to AEC.” The TV obediently turned itself on and changed the chanell over to AEC, Adult Entertainment Channel, where a foul-mouthed cartoon character was chasing a scantily-clad animal around. Sam thought it might be a goose, but it had been so long since she’d bothered to read about the extinct animals, that she couldn’t quite be sure. Either way, the cartoon was a welcome break from the coding she had pulled herself away from; something she didn’t need to think about to be able to enjoy. Perfect.

Sam jerked upright when the half-eaten apple rolled from her fingers, “Shit!” She shouted, looking around, “How long was I asleep?” The TV was showing some comedic news program now, instead of the cartoon she drifted off to, and the HUD on the TV was showing 10:49 in bright numbers. “Shit!” Sam cried again, scrambling to her feet. “It’s due in an hour, a fucking hour!”

Racing back to her room, ignoring the laughter coming from Jayme down the hall, Sam slid into her chair and shoved herself across the room to her desk where she stared at the blinking cursor that marked her place. “Shit!” She swore again, her fingers flying over the holo-keyboard at breakneck speeds.

For the next hour, Sam’s fingers raced the clock as she strove to finish the work before her deadline. A deadline that, if she missed it, would mean no pay and no second chance with the firm, one of the few that was offering freelancer work to someone like her, a vibrant-haired, half-mutant raised on the streets and in the holo-bars. The clock read 11:56 as she attached the file to an email and pressed send, watching anxiously as the bar slowly filled to indicate her email had been sent successfully.

“Oh thank fuck.” Sam breathed when the bar finished and her clock still hadn’t reached noon. She had done it. The funds would be deposited within six hours, and she wouldn’t need to worry about this again. At least not until next week, when she had to fork over her share of the food budget.

Leaning back in her chair, waving the monitors off, Sam closed her eyes and enjoyed the stillness, broken only by the steady hum of her PC fans.

Still leaning back in her chair, Sam began to softly snore as she drifted off to sleep, her dreams filled with neon lights and looming deadlines.

Read Part Two here!

Ramblings: All the Things

Ramblings: All the Things

by Heather ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

My mind is simply racing this morning, full of possibilities and unable to quiet down for more than a moment.

Starting on the more business oriented side of things, I’ve created myself an Author’s Facebook page as I am intending on publishing my short story soon, hopefully before the year is out if everything goes according to plan.

If you are interested in supporting me further, please go ahead and give my Facebook page a like. You can reach it here (link opens in a new window, so don’t worry about losing your spot here!)

So what prompted me to make the Facebook page? Well, I met an indie author on the bus today. A real, flesh and blood person, I promise, not just a figment of my imagination. She has been a USA Today top selling author, apparently within two years of publishing her novella series through Kindle Direct Publishing, which is exactly what I intend on using.

She made mention of a couple of writing groups in my area, one that is more for hobby writers who, while passionate, don’t know much about the technical side of things. Which is incredibly me, right now. I have so many questions, but many of them need answers from myself, answers that I will learn as I navigate the publishing process. The other one she mentioned is more oriented to published/publishing authors. I’m not certain how local these are, or how often they meet, but it may be something I will want to look into.

In the meantime, my head is just full of possibilities, like I said! As I get closer to the end of my short story, with so many ideas yet to come to fruition with it, I can’t help but imagine what this is going to end up looking like for me in the years to come.

I’m excited, I’m scared. Mostly excited, though.

The idea that people may actually pay to read my words is incredible. And very possible.

The lady on the bus mentioned that she had seen another author post that they started getting around $70/month and ended up the next year with $70,000 annual! Incredible! I don’t anticipate that I would reach that level of success (except in those wild pipe dreams that bubble over every so often), but any success would be amazing.

So I will continue to strive, continue to write. One day, you will see my name on the Best Sellers’ list, and just know that I will be spending a week straight dancing with joy if that does happen!

-Arcia

Storytime – Nighttime Visitor

Storytime – Nighttime Visitor

by Heather ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

This past Saturday night, right around 9 p.m., I joined my husband outside and was unable to find him right away. After a moment, he called out that he had found a cat!

Apparently, he heard these little mews and walked to the end of the driveway where he spotted a small, gray cat sitting on the bricks. He crouched down and reached out to the cat, expecting it to rush away like most unfamiliar cats will do. Not this little cutie. She ran right over and began rolling around and rubbing up against our legs.

She was adorable! Light gray in colour, with a tail that was about half the length of a normal cats tail. I’m fairly certain that was just her breed, and not that someone had decided to chop the cats poor tail off.

The little cutie had a collar on, letting us know that her name was Ella, with a phone number. After debating for a while with ourselves, we decided it wasn’t too late for a Saturday night and we should call her owner, just in case.

So I called up the number and a man answered the phone, assured me that she would be just fine. We assumed that was that.

Ella hung around outside our house for a little while, even after we went back inside, until one of our cats jumped up to the windowsill and frightened her off. I mean, our cat didn’t try to – we think Sera wanted to be friends, but Ella got scared and ran off. We didn’t see her again after that.

The next day, thinking maybe she was a new cat to the area, we kept our eyes open every time we went outside in hopes that maybe we could see and pet the little kitty again. She really was friendly and adorable, and my husband and I are both huge cat lovers. Regrettably, we did not see our new friend again.

On Monday, the holiday, we were in the middle of playing our video game when husband’s phone beeped with a text message.

Who would be texting him? We asked ourselves, since his friends usually talk to him over Discord, and it was the holiday to boot, so most of them would be busy. Being nearer the phone, I checked the message and my heart dropped.

Ella was missing. She hadn’t been seen since Saturday night.

We let the owner know our relative location and that we hadn’t seen her again. About five or ten minutes later we saw a younger couple walking past our home with cat treats, calling out to Ella.

But we weren’t satisfied. Both of us immediately wanted to go help look, but also not be weird or anything. What would we even say if we found the cat? After a few minutes, we decided we would just go for a quick little walk and loop around a side street that was nearby. We didn’t really expect to find Ella, but we also couldn’t just go back to our game knowing such a sweet little thing was missing. It was beyond distracting.

So we took a walk and, predictably, found no kitty.

Slightly despondent, we let our landlord and friend know about the kitty, since he is also outside all the time, and went back to our game. There was nothing more that we could do.

Then, as I was considering sending the owner a message to ask if they had found Ella, we received a text.

Ella was safe and sound!

Husband and I were relieved. Far more so than the recovery of a cat not our own really warrants. I had tears in my eyes as I texted back, thanking them for letting us know and expressing how worried we had been for their little gal.

The message we received back made me smile – I’m awesome, and the neighbourhood was great!

We think that they must have been relatively new to the area, and Ella just got a little lost and couldn’t make her way home. I think she kept going down our street, probably stopping at likely homes, until she was finally found. I was grateful that I had called the number, and like to think that we helped a little bit in getting Ella back to her family sooner rather than later.