I'm Kell. I write urban fantasy in an interconnected universe. I've published one novel so far, and I'm working on the sequel.
The premise of the universe is: Did you ever wonder what happened after the Dark Lord was defeated, and when the magic left the world?
Itâs been two thousand years since the forces of Darkness were defeated. Now, thereâs a modern world of cars, skyscrapers and officers. Elves run fashion magazines. Orcs go to office jobs, and everyone thinks that the age of wizards and dragons is folklore.
Itâs a perfectly ordinary worldâŠon the surface. But magic hasnât gone awayâitâs merely hiding in the cracks of the world.
My current series, the Revenant Records, is an urban fantasy series focusing on ghost stories, mysteries and dark adventure. Itâs the story of an undead teenager, trying to balance her responsibilities to help lost ghosts, while maintaining a semblance of a normal life.
About me:
I love roleplaying games and I'm writing a system for my story world/universe.
My mega-fandoms are Doctor Who, Final Fantasy VII, and Transformers.
Books
Final Night. The Revenant Records: Book One. https://books2read.com/b/Final-Night
Time for one of those end of year/start of year posts. By way of introduction, or re-introduction, I'm Kell Shaw and I write books and short fiction in the secondary world urban fantasy Vestiges of Magic universe. I'd like to dig more into my fantasy world and creative choices this year in bloggery, so stay tuned for that. This is post is about publishing.
Last year, I released two books in my urban fantasy world! I started in 2022 with my first book, Final Night, which I produced in a COVID writing course. I had no idea what I was doing when I started, and now know a little bit more. In March 2025, I released the third book in the Revenant Records series (which started with Final Night).Â
Iâm planning another three books to finalize this series up, but will do it down the track, as the third book wraps thins up with a nice âhappy ending for nowâ conclusion. I wrote Final Night in my COVID writing course, and then published it without dying of anxiety, and then thought, what next? A sequel! And then after that I thought, another book! This series is about an undead teenager trying to grow up while dealing with the mess of her old mortal life and dealing with supernatural weirdness. Itâs also about her friendship with her friend from high school, whoâs now twenty years older than she is (as it took twenty years for her to return from the Underworld). Iâm going to release an omnibus of this in March, with a nice paperback edition.
I didn't plan the series; each sequel grew organically from the previous one. I had a vague idea of getting Lukie to work for a secret government organisation, but every time I tried to push the story in that direction, it didn't work. But each book ended on a position for a sequel - Final Night ends with Lukie wanting to reconnect with her father, twenty years after her murder. This drives the second book, Feral Night. And then, that book ends with one of the supporting characters, Pavish, having lost a huge chunk of their memory to a supernatural predator. Lukie and Tamlyn agree to drive Pavish home to see if any of their relatives are still alive... of course, the remaining relative lives in a crumbling hotel on the edge of nowhere, and something terrible is about to occur... Those first three books end on a nice found family/friendship theme, and I'll do a time jump before starting the next three books.
I heard that six books are a good way to go for a series, so currently I'm planning to write six books per series. Which leads into my new series, the Cambion Chroncles. Set in the same world as the Revenant Records, this one is about two demonic foster sisters, born centuries apart that work as bounty hunters for Hell. I've planned this series a bit more in advance this time.
The first book is out, with Vex, the younger sister in the modern day and the second will be about her mentor/older sister, Thaena, set in the 1960s. The two story lines will weave together towards the end. Is alternating characters a great idea?
The idea I had was -- you know when a mentor character tells their protege, "It's my old enemy, [Enemy Name]!" And the protege says, "[Enemy Name]? Who is [Enemy Name]?" And that usually triggers a flashback of some sort. But what if the reader knew who [Enemy Name] was before the protege? And went, "Oh shit." And it's about carthasis and vengeance and making the best of a shitty existence. It's been fun to write and bring together.
After this Iâd like to do more of these short series in the Vestiges of Magic world. I've flagged the major creature types in urban fantasy and designed them to fit into the universe: werewolves, wizards (occultists), changelings fae. Really, it all depends on what character I get excited about. (This also ties into the roleplaying game I'd planned to release along side the series, which is about playing these creature types amidst a shadowy world of factions and intrigues). I might be able to release a 'zine' version this year, as I've got a stable verion, although who knows what will change. The poor game has had more core system changes that expected.
So books - are they selling? Am I marketing them? Not really. Iâm still at the âwrite more booksâ phase, and probably wonât do any paid ads until I complete a series. With a full time day job, I don't have time to learn Tik Tok or video shorts; I'd rather spend that time writing stuff. And there's not much point on doing a big ad campaign for a book 1 in the series if there's no other books available for people to read next.
Iâm aslo working on some short story submissions this year to magazines. I got into one anthology last year an dit was great. I'd like to have stuff published by some of the fantastic top SFF magazines. So it's more write, polish, submit, repeat for me in 2026.
Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell meet Sherlock Holmes!
 This book is a collection of short stories (and a novel) written by Randall Garrett. I read his Gandalara Cycle (which he wrote with Vicki Ann Heydron) as a teenager (which I have fond memories of, a sort of sword and sandals adventure series, about a man from the real world who wakes up another manâs body. And where the heroes are bonded to ridable, giant telepathic cats. Fun stuff, but thatâs for another review.
Whatâs The Complete Lord Darcy about? Theyâre detective stories, set around the 1960s (although the timeline progresses into the future) in an alternate history. Technologically, itâs a bit like the Victorian era, where competent monarchies rule countries. Lord Darcy is an investigator for Duke Richard of Normandy, which is part of the Anglo-French Empire (and also includes âNew Englandâ and âNew Franceâ).
Whereâs the fantasy? Well, magic is real and follows several scientific principles. Itâs not industrialised, but there are some hints of that happening in the edges of the stories. Sorcerers who work for the Catholic Church control magic. Darcyâs offsider is Master Sean, a registered sorcerer, who handles of Darcyâs crime scene forensics. The magic is based on the Hermetic magical tradition, such as the Law of Similarity, Sympathy and Contagion, which I recall from reading the Golden Bough years ago. Sean can do things like confirm that samples of blood taken from people are related. In one investigation, he turns a scrap of clothing is into a simulacrum of the original garment.
Magic isnât used to directly commit crimes; thereâs nothing like âthe victim was killed by a magic missile upcast to the third levelâ. Instead, itâs all indirect. For example, foul play in one story was committed using the Law of Similarity, where a poor sap was brainwashed into thinking he was another individual, and things that affected the duplicate affected the actual victim.Â
Most of the mysteries are typical locked-roomed mysteries, where a member of the upper class is found dead in strange circumstances, and Darcy has to work out whatâs going, occasionally making moral judgements on how he deals with the villains. Compared to Master Sean, Darcy is a bit bland as a character; a version of Sherlock Holmes without many of the quirks. But this is a feature, rather than a bug. In the space of a short story (and novel), Garret expertly introduces a mystery, magic system, alternate history and a usual cast of suspects and weaves a satisfying tale. Garretâs writing is clear, but dense, like chocolate mudcake. And heâs got a fondness for allusions and puns. One wizard at a conference, for example, is Grand Master Sir Lyon Gandophus. And some stories are riffs on existing mysteries, such as famous Agathar Christie books (such as Murder on the Orient Express). Because of the density of the stories, I had to reread them to see how they all fitted together.
My favorites in the collection involved a bit of international intrigue and skullduggery against the wicked, expansionist Polish Empire (who in this timeline control most of eastern Europe), which were A Case of Identity, and Ipswich Phial, which introduces a rival for Darcy, Special Agent Olga Polovski.
 Having been fond of the Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell television series, which was largely a series of drawing room discussions, I was struck by how this book would be perfect for such an adaptation! You wouldnât need a lot of special effects, just some Victorian-era outfits and drawing rooms.
 World-building wise, I wondered how the empire remained stable for six hundred years, as itâs been around since the Plantagenet dynasty. Some stories mention the ongoing colonization of America; Lord John Quetzal, a relative of Montezuma, is from the duchy of Mexico, and is a prominent character Too Many Magicians . Asia isnât referred to, but one could assume they are still ruled by their competent monarchies, much as Europe is. (Where perhaps, Judge Dee analogs are involved in their own intrigue.) And perhaps Australia hasnât even been discovered yet.
I highly recommended this collection, but I recommended reading one story at a time and savouring it rather than trying to devour it all at once.Â
Back to blogging with the RIB (Review of Interesting Books).
I found this book on my e-reader. I canât tell you how or when I acquired it, but it was likely part of some promotion or special deal. Despite acquiring a small mountain of these books, I curate the books I decide to read. I donât enjoy a book, or if it fails to grab me after the first few chapters, I move on.
But this book made the cut.
The DeChance Chronicles Omnibus is a set of four books by David Niall Wilson, who Iâm not familiar with otherwise but has written many books, including Star Trek tie-ins, and whoâs won the Bram Stoker Award for horror writing.
In the introduction, Wilson grabbed my attention with a reference to the old White Wolf roleplaying game company, whose urban fantasy roleplaying games like Vampire: The Masquerade, Mage: The Ascension, and Werewolf: The Apocalypse solidified my love of urban fantasy in the 1990s and 2000s. The DeChance Chronicles are about Donovan DeChance, a wizard in the fictional American city of San Valencez, and some books were initially proposed as World of Darkness tie-ins.
This volume contains the first four books and some short pieces. I really enjoyed these; I wouldnât say that the books are especially âgameyâ, but rather solid and well-written urban fantasy adventures. (In some old D&D tie-in novels, you could practically hear the click of dice as the characters did things!)
DeChance is a refined, gentlemanly, academic wizard. Heâs not especially snarky or witty like Dresden, but enjoys fine dining and wine, and has a stable, healthy romance with his intriguing wizardly girlfriend, Amethyst. DeChance has a large sanctum filled with books and occult paraphernalia. Heâs well connected with the local occult community and has a cat familiar, Cleo, an Egyptian Mau breed. Much to Cleoâs consternation, DeChance later picks up a scruffy raven familiar as well. (Cleo doesnât talk but communicates with her wizard through mental impressions and cat-like mannerisms.)
The first book, Heart of the Dragon, is about some dragons possessing the members of a local gang. When artist Salvatore paints these dragons, he empowers the gang members and and fuels an occult feud between the different gangs. DeChanceâs involvement here is a bit more peripheral than the later books, but he does get involved to stop a powerful summoning. I enjoyed DeChanceâs visits to Club Chaos, the typical urban fantasy nightclub where deals are made and many creatures are encountered. (We had a lot of those special nightclubs in our old Vampire games!)
The Vintage Soul is centered on DeChanceâs relationship with a group of vampires. In this world, vampires can flavour wine with blood and store it for a long time. At a vampire gathering, a powerful female vampire is kidnapped, and her partner, the cityâs vampire âprinceâ, Johndrow, hires DeChance to get her back. This case intersects with the theft of a tome from DeChanceâs library. The culprit is a wizard who plants to sacrifice the kidnapped vampire to fuel an immortality spell. Of the four books, this was the closest to the World of Darkness mythos (in fact, this was originally proposed as a World of Darkness novel).
My Soul to Keep explores DeChanceâs origin story in the wild west, where as a boy he was apprenticed to the drunken hedge wizard, âDr. Hugo Rathman, Healer, Mystic, and Clairvoyantâ (as painted on the side of his wagon). Rathman moves from town to town, trying to stay ahead of a demon after his soul. Donovan suffers abuse from his mentor, while trying to learn magic from books. One day, the demon finally catches up, and DeChance has a chance to escape. Wilson clearly enjoyed writing the old west setting, and thereâs a particular vibrancy that shone through the descriptions.
The last book in the collection, Kali's Tale, is linked to characters from The Vintage Soul, about a vampire, Kali, who wants revenge on the man who made her a vampire. As requested by the vampire prince, DeChance chaperones Kali, and a group of her fellow young vampires on her journey. While the setting around the Great Dismal Swamp in North Carolina is quite evocative, one moment irked me: when DeChance saved his little vampire charges from the ghost of an old blues musician who was simply protecting his turf from the bloodsuckers!
Other stories are linked to Wilsonâs Great Dismal Swamp setting, about a mad preacher, and the eccentric con man and occult investigator Cletus J Diggs, a fun and lively character.
What made these stories work are the evocative, well-detailed characters, and sense of place, especially around the North Carolina scenes, where Wilson lives. Wilson sometimes writes in the characterâs head, and sometimes as though weâre behind a camera, watching the character. This is a style taken from some mystery novels, which gives a certain secrecy to the characterâs actions; I didnât find it limiting at all. Other things of interest are the snippets of lore as Wilson slowly builds the mythology of his world, such as that vampire banes are variable, and are based on what they feared when they were alive. For example, the mad alchemist vampire in the fourth book is repelled by dogwood rather than a crucifix.
I enjoyed my time in DeChanceâs world and would recommend this volume.
Originally posted over at
Another week, another RIB (Review of Interesting Books).
I found this book on my e-reader. I canât tell you how or when I acquired it, but it was likely part of some promotion or special deal. Despite acquiring a small mountain of these books, I curate the books I decide to read. I donât enjoy a book, or if it fails to grab me after the first few chapters, I move on.
But this book made the cut.
The DeChance Chronicles Omnibus is a set of four books by David Niall Wilson, who Iâm not familiar with otherwise but has written many books, including Star Trek tie-ins, and whoâs won the Bram Stoker Award for horror writing.
In the introduction, Wilson grabbed my attention with a reference to the old White Wolf roleplaying game company, whose urban fantasy roleplaying games like Vampire: The Masquerade, Mage: The Ascension, and Werewolf: The Apocalypse solidified my love of urban fantasy in the 1990s and 2000s. The DeChance Chronicles are about Donovan DeChance, a wizard in the fictional American city of San Valencez, and some books were initially proposed as World of Darkness tie-ins.
This volume contains the first four books and some short pieces. I really enjoyed these; I wouldnât say that the books are especially âgameyâ, but rather solid and well-written urban fantasy adventures. (In some old D&D tie-in novels, you could practically hear the click of dice as the characters did things!)
DeChance is a refined, gentlemanly, academic wizard. Heâs not especially snarky or witty like Dresden, but enjoys fine dining and wine, and has a stable, healthy romance with his intriguing wizardly girlfriend, Amethyst. DeChance has a large sanctum filled with books and occult paraphernalia. Heâs well connected with the local occult community and has a cat familiar, Cleo, an Egyptian Mau breed. Much to Cleoâs consternation, DeChance later picks up a scruffy raven familiar as well. (Cleo doesnât talk but communicates with her wizard through mental impressions and cat-like mannerisms.)
The first book, Heart of the Dragon, is about some dragons possessing the members of a local gang. When artist Salvatore paints these dragons, he empowers the gang members and and fuels an occult feud between the different gangs. DeChanceâs involvement here is a bit more peripheral than the later books, but he does get involved to stop a powerful summoning. I enjoyed DeChanceâs visits to Club Chaos, the typical urban fantasy nightclub where deals are made and many creatures are encountered. (We had a lot of those special nightclubs in our old Vampire games!)
The Vintage Soul is centered on DeChanceâs relationship with a group of vampires. In this world, vampires can flavour wine with blood and store it for a long time. At a vampire gathering, a powerful female vampire is kidnapped, and her partner, the cityâs vampire âprinceâ, Johndrow, hires DeChance to get her back. This case intersects with the theft of a tome from DeChanceâs library. The culprit is a wizard who plants to sacrifice the kidnapped vampire to fuel an immortality spell. Of the four books, this was the closest to the World of Darkness mythos (in fact, this was originally proposed as a World of Darkness novel).
My Soul to Keep explores DeChanceâs origin story in the wild west, where as a boy he was apprenticed to the drunken hedge wizard, âDr. Hugo Rathman, Healer, Mystic, and Clairvoyantâ (as painted on the side of his wagon). Rathman moves from town to town, trying to stay ahead of a demon after his soul. Donovan suffers abuse from his mentor, while trying to learn magic from books. One day, the demon finally catches up, and DeChance has a chance to escape. Wilson clearly enjoyed writing the old west setting, and thereâs a particular vibrancy that shone through the descriptions.
The last book in the collection, Kali's Tale, is linked to characters from The Vintage Soul, about a vampire, Kali, who wants revenge on the man who made her a vampire. As requested by the vampire prince, DeChance chaperones Kali, and a group of her fellow young vampires on her journey. While the setting around the Great Dismal Swamp in North Carolina is quite evocative, one moment irked me: when DeChance saved his little vampire charges from the ghost of an old blues musician who was simply protecting his turf from the bloodsuckers!
Other stories are linked to Wilsonâs Great Dismal Swamp setting, about a mad preacher, and the eccentric con man and occult investigator Cletus J Diggs, a fun and lively character.
What made these stories work are the evocative, well-detailed characters, and sense of place, especially around the North Carolina scenes, where Wilson lives. Wilson sometimes writes in the characterâs head, and sometimes as though weâre behind a camera, watching the character. This is a style taken from some mystery novels, which gives a certain secrecy to the characterâs actions; I didnât find it limiting at all. Other things of interest are the snippets of lore as Wilson slowly builds the mythology of his world, such as that vampire banes are variable, and are based on what they feared when they were alive. For example, the mad alchemist vampire in the fourth book is repelled by dogwood rather than a crucifix.
I enjoyed my time in DeChanceâs world and would recommend this volume.
Originally posted at https://kellshaw.com/blog/dechance-chronicles
Once a woman told me a terrible story about how she lost everything. I was transfixed, and my heart hammered as she told me how she had to rebuild her life, get special medical care for her daughter, had to rebuild her precious vinyl record collections. I was hooked.
Then she tried to sell me insurance.
A good story can sell something, catch someoneâs attention, by making it personal and real. Why do we need to do that?
Well, everything nowadays can be faked easily. Chatbots can churn out novels easilyâeven this yearâs Nanowrimo, something which evokes long hours in cafes after work in meâhas allowed writers to use them. So this pushes a load on authors to be more ârealâ and âauthenticâ, which means being able to tell you stories that a chatbot wouldnât. A lot of marketing and social media advice is âbe yourselfâ. Be real, be authentic!
A new publishing article told me about story-based marketing. It goes: hereâs my tragic or meaningful story told entertainingly + buy my thing! Is this the new hotness? Well, salespeople have been around for ages. When I thought back to when I was house hunting, I canât remember individual realtors, but I remember their stories! See, one house was owned by an old man, who passed away and left to his heirs, who fought in courts for their fatherâs legacy but they went broke, and now itâs owned by a collection agency who just want to get rid of the thing which is why the price is so good!
How can you tell a story about you to sell your book?
No, not really. Not for me. I think some books have a lot to gain from the identity of the authorâa trans story by a trans author, for example, has appeal. But I think of you read my book and know anything about the world in which it is set, you will know itâs accurate. That accuracy DOES come from firsthand experience, but my story in that world does not matter. My charactersâ does. And it would matter just as much if said accuracy came from research or secondhand accounts. Not everything is or has to be autobiographical.
Once a woman told me a terrible story about how she lost everything. I was transfixed, and my heart hammered as she told me how she had to rebuild her life, get special medical care for her daughter, had to rebuild her precious vinyl record collections. I was hooked.
Then she tried to sell me insurance.
A good story can sell something, catch someoneâs attention, by making it personal and real. Why do we need to do that?
Well, everything nowadays can be faked easily. Chatbots can churn out novels easilyâeven this yearâs Nanowrimo, something which evokes long hours in cafes after work in meâhas allowed writers to use them. So this pushes a load on authors to be more ârealâ and âauthenticâ, which means being able to tell you stories that a chatbot wouldnât. A lot of marketing and social media advice is âbe yourselfâ. Be real, be authentic!
A new publishing article told me about story-based marketing. It goes: hereâs my tragic or meaningful story told entertainingly + buy my thing! Is this the new hotness? Well, salespeople have been around for ages. When I thought back to when I was house hunting, I canât remember individual realtors, but I remember their stories! See, one house was owned by an old man, who passed away and left to his heirs, who fought in courts for their fatherâs legacy but they went broke, and now itâs owned by a collection agency who just want to get rid of the thing which is why the price is so good!
How can you tell a story about you to sell your book?
Iâve spent most of the year working on Book #3 which is now with the line editor. Phew, itâs the best, longest and most complicated thing Iâve written yet! What I want to articulate is that feeling of relief after (mostly) finishing a long project. Focusing on this one project in my spare time, excluding lots of other things I enjoy doing. Getting sad when people talk about how cool Baldurâs Gate 3 because Iâve missed all that getting this novel done. Really wanting to see this book done but always with more work to do on it, and trying to remember why I started this in the first place⊠And then it reaches a stage gate and I can relax. I know a âweight off my shouldersâ is a bit of a metaphor, but thatâs what it feels like. Itâs nice to have this moment to breathe and relax, a space where there are no pressing commitments.
And what do I want to do? Write something else! Videogaming might have to be put off a bit longerâŠ
What do you feel like when you finish some momentous task? Do you want a break, or want to start the next big thing?
Iâve long been searching for the magic productivity bullet. Diaries, journals, kanban boards. Different configurations of planners and bullet journals. The problem is, these things can be ignored. To manage anxiety, I rely on CBT techniques which involve making lists, except sometimes I get too anxious to make a list, and if the list in a software thing, I can easily ignore it. Also, as you can imagine, this makes things worse!
If itâs a book, less so. I started with a nice paper diary this year, but Iâd make a list, and time would march forward, and things wouldnât be done and I couldnât bring myself to face that the last list I wrote was two weeks ago.
Usually, I keep stuff in my head, and do full steam ahead on that, with other urgent things lurking in the background like lurking monstrous tentacles.
Iâm trying to get a book out this year, in record time, but while Iâm focused on editing, thereâs other stuff I need to prep for. Covers, promotional blingâŠ. Stuff that should be done as early as possible, but I donât want to think about. Time to make a list, and yet if I use a diary, I get anxious when I see how few weeks are left. Why is project management easy at work, and yet hard to bring into my personal space?
But since I also have a streak of ruthless pragmatism, so itâs time to bring out the paper diary again. Except, this time, Iâve resurrected one of my old bullet journals. No dates, months, just a list of things that can be crossed off. The journal is a physical artefact, so Iâm less likely to ignore it as an app. Got a lot to get done over the next few months, and itâs important I stay on top of things leading up to getting Book 3 doneâŠ.
Thanking @mjparkerwriting for this tag. Check out the snappy dialog in her WIP in the original post.
Here's a current extract from my ongoing WIP:
A full-length mirror graced one wall, its dark wooden frame elaborately carved with clouds of open mouths, skulls and eyes. âThatâs creepy.â Lukie muttered as she scanned the room. âWhatâs that?â
As she studied her pallid, undead reflection, a faint breeze stirred her short-cropped blonde hair. Just enough to make her watch.
She touched the mirror. âI think thereâs something behind it.â She raised a fist.
âDonât break it!â Pavish warned. âIt is a work of art and has religious import.â
âThen how do you get to the space behind the mirror?â Lukie objected.
Pavish said, âThereâs a Kytherian tradition called âcunning woodâ. Here.â The elf stepped up to the frame and ran their hands around the frame, fiddling with the carvings.
A faint click filled the room, and they stepped back as the door frame swung open towards them.
On the other side was a small room, decorated like a religious area with a shrine in the far corner, although Lukie wasnât sure of the religion being practiced.
A whisper reached Lukieâs ears and the chill of spectral energy boiled through the room.
âWait!â Lukie cried.
From the other side, a shadowy figure rushed forward, a silver knife flashing through the air.
And soft-tagging @sam-glade, @rickie-the-storyteller, @toribookworm22, @liv-is, @saltwaterbells, @anomalousfrequency and anyone else who wants to join in.
Itâs time for a late 2023 review post where I reflect on life, the universe and my author career. I did one last year which makes a good benchmark. Letâs see how I did!
2023 Goals vs Actual
Finish the next two books in the Revenant Records series
Completed half of this. I got Feral Night out, and Iâm working on the third book in the series. Not quite at the stage of getting two to three books out per year. But Iâm happy with the book I releasedâitâs a solid improvement over Final Night (which I still think is a pretty good first author book!) Currently, Iâm knee deep in the entrails of book 3. I got ambitious and Iâm attempting a puzzle mystery with two POVs which is slowing me down as I work through everything. I also wonât put this up for pre-order until itâs 100 percent finished, which includes proofing covers, backmatterâthe works!
Complete twelve issues of the monthly newsletter
Done! Iâve kept the newsletter going. Still writing it in character, as itâs more fun that way. (In character? Check it out!)
Submit original short stories to magazines
This did not happen. I went through my old backlog of shorts and found a sword-and-sorcery-ish story that might be worthy of magazine submission with a bit of polishing.
Write a proper Lukie-focused short as a reader magnet
Done! Itâs always good when your giveaway story relates to your in-progress series. You can grab Fiery Night here as a newsletter sign-up bonus.
I would like to do a second, completely free short for a wide release and even have an idea for one. Will do this later, but not prioritize it.
Streamline my automation sequence for the newsletter
This was a bit of admin that I kept putting off, but itâs done now. Need to improve and develop the sequence further.
Engage an artist for some character/concept sketches + learn to draw
I got some done by a talented artist for my newsletter which are fantastic, but I wonât be happy with sketches until I can draw my own characters competently. This year, I did a few simple art courses at my local community college and attended a few live drawing sessions. This year, Iâll keep practicing. I also signed up for an online drawing academy by clicking on a random Facebook ad and going âHey, thatâs not too badâ (I know, I know). Was stymied also by Apple Pencil breaking, and had to revert to the less technical Graphite Pencil.
Social media, book reviews
I continue to be inconsistent with social media. I do this ad hoc posts, but a meh presence on social media. Not good at the funny meme stuff, and my book-a-year schedule means I canât do too much around launches. I tried many social medias in 2023. I should pick something and be consistent.
2024 Goals
Okay, here we go. In 2024, Iâm going to simplify my list. In fact, I had a more complicated list. Start a subscription! Work on the tabletop roleplaying set in the Vestiges of Magic world, do more drawing, and then when I got some strategic advice which was...
Write the next book... No side projects?
And thatâs my core goal for next year!
Finish Revenant Records #3 - Fractured Night
Still in progress. At first it was a puzzle mystery and now itâs more about the characters. The premise is like the Shining crossed with a dark faerie tale....
Start the 2024 web serial, do a chapter a month
I completed a web serial last year, which Iâm sitting on until I get more material out to launch a series with it. (Having launched a series on the fly, my next series will have a bit more material ready to go before I launch.) This will be in my newsletter and on my website. Iâve got about four chapters done. The premise: a woman seeks the help of a supernatural assassin to avenge her murdered daughter, but the assassin she needs to help her has retired....
Hereâs a short story set in the Vestiges of Magic setting.
***
Ever since she was a girl, Ilda had a thing for elves. She watched all the classic movies starring Helianthus Lindarien VarielâA Sword at Sunset, The Heroes of the Hawkbow, The Wanwood Queenâuntil her video tapes wore out. She collected inter-hominin romance novels, where an elf would take someone back to the treetop village and show them just how superior elves were to humans.
She tried not to stare too hard at the elves when she saw them on the train, or in the many public parks, performing mysterious religious rites for their nature gods. They stood out amongst the humansâtaller and more slender, androgynous, their hair often worn long and loose. They had high cheekbones and never went bald. There was just something about an elf that made them more appealing than regular human men. But they were in their own different world. Visible but remote.
As a teenager, she had thought about exploring her thing for elves. Studying their language and literature at university or becoming involved in elven/human diplomatic relations. But Mother pointed out that jobs working with elves were limited (their clans were picky about the non-elves they worked with). Mother also drummed into Ildaâs head that she needed to focus on her Life Goals: to obtain a six-figure salary, an equally wealthy husband, and a house in the suburbs with two well-behaved children.
And so, her thing for elves remained dormant until she met him.
 Tired of waiting for the IT support desk to install her new software remotely, she went to visit them in person. And her heart skipped a beat because the guy behind the counter was elvish. Not a full elf, but one of his parents had been. He had high cheekbones, pointed ears and long dark hair that he wore tied in a ponytail. But his face was rounded, and his eyes were a deep brown with visible whites rather than completely green.
âCan I help you?â
And his voice was warm honey.
âUh, I need GraphixChampionPro installed on my laptop.â
âWhatâs your barcode?â
Ilda read it off the back of her hand.
âIâll queue it up for installation now.â
âThank you,â she managed. âWhatâs your name?â
Heart racing, she waited for him to pronounce his elven name in the mellifluous language of Kytharien.
âIâm Ben.â
Ben. Ben? Did he have a proper elven name, like Gladiolus Sevarien Kalpesh? What was Ben short for?
She remained there too long, staring.
 Ben gave her an odd look. âUh, you donât need to hang around. Itâll load when you restart your machine. Do that when you get back to your desk.â
She burbled something unintelligible and fled to the elevator.
***
âAre you paying attention?â Sessi asked her at their morning coffee, snapping her fingers in front of Ildaâs dreamy face. Slightly older than Ilda, sheâd been at the office for years and had far more boyfriends.
âThereâs this man in IT. An elf. Well, half-elf.â Ilda swallowed.
Sessi nodded, familiar with Ildaâs thing for elves. âBlended. I hear no-one calls them half-elves anymore. You sure you want to get involved?â
âYes.â Ilda thought of Benâs smooth voice. Despite years of progressive media and endless books and movies, the conservative elements of society frowned upon inter-hominin dating. But Ilda could handle anything for that voice and those eyesâŠ
âThen ask him out. Before Anita from Sales does. She moves on to anything new in the company.â
âHe might already be with someone.â
âHeâs a man in IT. Not likely.â
 âI suppose I could tell him about some computer problem Iâm having at home and thenââ
âHeâs a man in IT, dear,â Sessi repeated. âBe direct. Otherwise, heâll never get the hint.â
When she got back to her desk, Ilda steeled herself and called IT.
That voice. âHello? IT Support.â
âBen? Itâs me. Ilda. From earlier.â
âYes. GraphixChampionPro. Is it installed properly?â
She got there at 2:50pm, hands sweating and staring at the flood of incoming people. She waited until 3:11, growing more certain with each passing moment that Ben had stood her up andâ
âHi.â Ben arrived, out of breath. âSorry, I just had to tell someone to reboot.â
Ilda talked about the weather while Ben sipped at his expresso, fidgeting. He drummed his fingers and looked up at her.
Ilda noticed his nerves with growing dread. This is where he tells me heâs not into human women, or already has a person in his life, orâ
âDo you like fantasy movies?â
***
To Ildaâs relief, Krothar the Mighty wasnât as bad as she thought it would be, and neither was Darkblade III: Vengeance Calls or The Labyrinth of Doom, where they kissed for the first time. Ben didnât want to talk much about elf-stuff, and quickly changed the subject when she asked if heâd been to the legendary elven kingdoms of the Wanwood, or the Windward Isles. However, he ordered in the entire series of The Impossible Archer for her, which starred Phyllanthus Lenandrum Selvi performing endless trick shots as she defended the village of Grassholt from a new threat each episode.
Their first formal outing was at âThe Grandâ, an expensive four-star restaurant which overlooked Shadow Bay. In turn, Ben arranged a surprise date where they bunjy-jumped off the giant historical statues of the Great Kings of Old that bracketed the Shatterwater River.
She played console games with him, which were fun, provided that she could button-smash her way to victory. She took Ben on her weekend cycling trips, starting on the simple River Ride, with the goal of trying out for the annual City Cycle race. He was so different from her last boyfriend, Gary the Lawyer. Ben didnât demand that she look a million dollars before she went out or spend all night complaining about his expensive clients.
Ilda wouldnât call things magical, or true love, but it was fun. Only, something was missing. The spark promised by years of soaking in elven-themed media wasnât there.
And of course, there as the Other Problemâthat blended people werenât fully accepted by modern society. A crazy fact given that the continent was full of socially integrated hominin subspecies, and countless movies and books spoke of romance and relationships.
No one spoke about the real factâthat these relationships led to children, and that these offspring werenât fully welcomed. Ilda hadnât worried about it at first, given that they were living in the twenty first century.
Only the universe disagreed. Some of her old, high school friends gave her odd, shocked looks when she introduced Ben. Occasionally waiters refused to serve them, and old people grumbled on the bus,
âDoes this happen all the time to you?â Ilda groaned as the rain battered down one evening after a movie date, when a cab driver with a âon dutyâ light and an empty vehicle slowed down, and sped up when he had a good look at his fares.
âYeah.â Ben tucked his hands in his pockets. âBut you canât let it get in our way. Thereâs been a lot of civil rights victories in the past few years, but a lot more has to change.â His voice hung there: an invitation for her to talk about this with him. What it was like to grow up blended, the world of civil rights and social justice⊠But then a cab pulled up and they got in. And civil justice sounded too heavy for Ilda to handle.
And the final straw was when Mother found out.
âYour cousin tells me youâre dating a half-elf.â
âBlended,â Ilda corrected. âNo one uses the term âhalf-elfâ anymore.â
âYou canât date a half-elf,â Mother insisted, her voice sharp over the phone. âYouâre my only child. Half-breeds are sterile, and I want grandchildren.â
âIâve checked the internet, Mama. Itâs a myth. Thereâs lots of blended families.â
âEven if you have children, theyâll have all sorts of medical problems.â
âThatâs not trueââ
âThey wonât get into good schools, that sort of thing. Your second cousin Patââ
âSo whatââ
âShe married a dwarrow. Can you believe it?â
âItâs the modern age, Mama, andââ
âThe child, all sickly, poor dear. In and out of hospitals, and all covered in hairâare you listening?â
âDo I have a choice, Mama?â
âImagine waxing while in primary school. The Precursor made us different species for a reason. Weâre not supposed to mix in that way.â
âWeâre all subspecies, Mamaââ
But Mother wouldnât stop. Ilda thought about it moreâperhaps Mother was right. Ben was a comfortable, battered sedan car, but she needed an expensive sports model with fire in its engine. He wouldnât help her achieve her Life Goals.
âI thought you were ready. That you saw past societyâs bullshitââ
âItâs not thatââ Ilda shook her head. âI want someone progressive, someone whoâs going to make six-figure salary, and help me afford a house in the Diamond andââ
âWe had something good, and youâre killing it for something that doesnât exist.â He got up and left, his untouched coffee curling steam in the air.
I have my Life Goals, she reminded herself while hugging her pillow close to her chest that night and feeling like the worst person in the world.
âBen left me,â she told Sessi at morning coffee, giving her friend a fake version of events. After a few weeks, she had almost convinced herself that dumping Ben was her decision, and nothing to do with keeping Mother happy.
âIâve just dumped Kallen,â Sessi said. âNo sense of fun. Listen, I suppose youâre over elves nowââ
âWell, no,â Ilda managed.
âHow about we have a holiday? See some real elves. How theyâre supposed to be.â
Sessi showed a website on her phone: âElven adventure tour. Experience the traditional village of Illandrellan!â An elf dressed in robes aimed a longbow at some imaginary figure in the distance. A place that Ilda had always wanted to visit but never found the time.
âSign me up.â Ilda closed her eyes. She needed that elven fantasy, as way to wash away the grit of her relationship with Ben. A world where everything between humans and elves was accepted, rather than one where cabs wouldnât stop for you and where mothers complained incessantly about your doomed offspring.
***
 Sweeping arches of ancient oak trees covered the forest road. As the electric bus rattled along, Ilda wished their blended elven tour guide didnât remind her so much of Ben.
Stop that, she told herself. You have your Life Goals. You are completely over Ben. Now shut up and enjoy your holiday.
The guide wore traditional robes, woven from a shimmering white silk embroidered with tiny silhouettes of leaves. His badge announced his name as Laurel. âOn your left, you can see the greeting tree.â He pointed to a flowering sapling festooned with garlands. âThey act as guideposts to the settlements within the Wanwood.â
The bus passed through a large clearing, and they were in the village. They parked and Laurel escorted the pool of tourists outside. âThis is the gathering space the clan uses for cooking and social activities, but everyone lives in the homes above. Over there is the communal crafting area, where you can see people weaving.â
Set up under the canopies were large wooden looms, where elves in their shimmering robes labored, producing intricately woven cloth.
Next, Laurel pointed to the lofty treetop houses connected by walkways.
âHow do they get up there?â an old man from the Seastrider Islands asked. âMy knees arenât too good.â
âThere are rope ladders, or a basket we use for taking goods up.â
Ilda struggled up the ladder (which looked suspiciously like nylon cord) while Sessi rode the basket, meeting her at the top. Did that pulley mechanism really exist in ancient times?
A pleasant blonde, blended elf escorted them to the festival hall, where they were served sethariesâelven mead, or honey water, depending on oneâs ageâand ornain, the filling food used in epic journeys in ages past.
âThe Heroes of the Hawkbow ate this as they crossed the plains to fight the Dark Emperor.â Ilda gestured at her bowl full of nuts, dried berries, and leaves in front of them.
âIt tastes like ordinary trail mix to me,â Sessi muttered. âI bet this all comes from the Cubermarket.â
After morning tea, Laurel showed them an elven family house, and they watched a dance on the ground below. Before she boarded the bus, Ilda bought a souvenir tea towel from the gift shop.
âThis is so dull,â a bored ogre tourist complained. âI wanted to visit the Pits of Oblivion and the Stormfortâwhere Grimtusk had her last standâbut nooo, my wife had to see elves.â An ogre woman held up her elven silken scarf and smiled.
âYou canât get to the Stormfort at the moment,â a human woman from the Lionmarches interrupted. âTheyâve had to close off parts of the Volcanic National Park. Too many tourists.â
Ilda wondered if the Heroes of the Hawkbow had known that the sites of their ancient struggle against the forces of darkness would become tourist attractions.
After watching an elven bird-calling ceremony, Laurel head-counted the tour group and gestured at them to get back on the bus. As they drove away, Ilda peered out the rear window. The elves had stopped their industrious weaving and were sitting around, talking and smoking cigarettes.
âHow was the real elven village?â Sessi elbowed Ilda in the ribs as she stared vacantly at the forest outside. âJust like your books?â
Ilda mumbled, âIt was okay.â But no, it felt too touristy. Perhaps if she had ignored Mother, she could have studied Kytharien at university, and been one of the few humans invited to see an actual village. But that dream was distant, sacrificed to focus on her Life Goals. She closed her eyes and recited them but realized that she no longer cared.Â
* * *
 They spent the night at Far Point, the nearest human town to the Wanwood. A mix of tourists from all over the continent sat in the bar, drinking and chatting, sweat dripping down their faces in the muggy heat.
Ilda couldnât describe the emptiness within her. If her Life Goals were as hollow as the elven village, what was she doing with her existence? What did she really want? She tried talking about this with Sessi, but after several shots of elven brandy, neither woman could communicate very well. After Sessi nearly collapsed at the bar, Ilda dragged them both outside.
On the porch, the air rippled in the muggy heat. Stars drifted overhead in the night sky and bird calls echoed from the distant bulk of the dark woods.
A figure leaned against a beamâa full-blooded elf wearing only leather pants. Long dark hair, slicked back, hanging down to his waist. His eyes were a deep green, without sclera, and his abs were a lean six pack.
âHey.â Ilda could not stop staring.
âYou ladies after a good time?â the elf asked.
âSure!â Sessi burbled.
âFor you, five hundred,â the elf said.
Five hundred? Ilda froze. Sheâd never been this close to an actual sex worker, let alone a full-blooded elf, before. Her desire for something genuinely elvish warred with her nervousness.
âSheâs game!â Sessi said.
âNo, Iâmââ
âIlda, come on. You only live once. This has been your fantasy for years. Sheâll do it! Who are you, elfie boy?â
âMoonweaver.â Such a romance novel alias.
âAre you licensed?â Sessi asked.
Moonweaver flashed an ID card. Having one meant he passed a bunch of health and safety certifications. Ilda scanned the license for his real name, but there was only a barcode.
Ilda dry-swallowed. Perhaps a fling with a genuine elf would reconnect her with who she was before sheâd become obsessed with Life Goals.
âNo excuses, girl.â Sessi pulled on Ildaâs arm. âLetâs get some extra brandy.â
***
Moonweaver was highly skilled, but Ilda was too reserved, despite the alcohol, to enjoy her time with him. The encounter felt like every other time sheâd been with a competent lover. Good sex, and that was it. The romance of elven lovemaking died when Ilda lay back on the bed as Moonweaver counted banknotes and tucked them in his leather pants. A job, and nothing more. Ilda wondered how many clients he regularly saw.
âIs the village real?â Ilda asked as he tugged on his boots.
He smiled. âItâs for you. For the tourists. We canât share a real Kytharien village with you, but this is a good compromise.â
âI saw a lot of blended elves there.â Ilda whispered.
âYes. They had to fight with the clan elders to build their own place, but in the end, it has worked out well. The half-bloods have a purpose, and the tourism money has enriched our clan.â
âThey had to fight?â
âChange requires struggle.â Moonweaver said. âSacrifice, unhappinessâbut all these can lead to good outcomes, in time.â
Sessi called out from the next room. âYou guys finished already? Moonie, can you do another round?â
Moonweaver looked at Ilda with his liquid green eyes.
She nodded, and the elf got up and left.
Ilda had a long shower and wished the walls werenât so thin.
***
About a week after she returned from her holiday, Ilda packed up all her movies and books in a crate and took them down to the local charity store.
âThank you.â The old lady behind the counter pawed through the box. âOh, Prince of the Treetops. I did like this one. This is a sizable collection. You must have a real thing for elves.â
âNot anymore,â Ilda said. She left the shop and found a quiet space in the park, green leaves enshrouding her. Time to fight for what she wanted.
She took a deep breath and called a number. âBen?â she whispered, hoping he would answer.
There are complaints about modern Doctor Who! About how they're getting it wrong!
The real Doctor Who (the platonic Doctor Who in our mind's eye) was never a silly, campy children's show, but rather something dark and serious and deep and profound and no one will ever get it right ever again.
How well would your characters do against a cockroach? Tag
Thanks @serenanymph for the tag!
No pressure tagging: @frankensteinshimbo @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @kellshaw @newdawnhorizon & my open tag!
Using my Animatronic Saga cast:
Maybelle - one good "Oh my god!" and then she's off to find something to kill it with
Gwen - reflexive stomp... or three
Edward - jumps when it appears, but unless it comes straight at him, he's gonna just find a shoe and squish it
Emerson - gets as high up and as far away as he can get, screaming, "Someone kill it!"
Jade - completely unfazed. Looks at the cockroach. Probably nod sin understanding. If it's inside, she'll probably find something to get it out with so no one else kills it.
Javon - grossed out and probably throwing things at it from across the room. Hates cleaning up the squish more though.
This actually relates to a scene in my current WIP!:
Asteria pointed at a cockroach crawling over the ceiling. "There's another one. They've everywhere in this cursed apartment. And nothing I can do gets rid of them!" Her fist curled in frustration.
"This is the Underworld," Lukie reassured the other woman. "They're not real. Just set decoration. Not real." Lukie smiled, hoping she was right. At least her patron wasn't here in person. Every time the Dark Detective manifested, she was covered in cockroaches that crawled in and out of her torn funereal clothing. Lukie had considered asking what the Detective's attachment to the bugs were, but on second reflection, didn't want to know.
âWhat happened?â Asteria asked as Lukie left the run-down brick building and returned to the car.
âI saw my patron,â Lukie explained, wishing briefly that her ghost lord was as cool and goth as the figures from elven folklore.
âSo it was a temple of death inside?â Asteria studied the brick building with new reverence. âI've read the ancient texts, where the pallid queens of death reside on thrones made of skulls and behind them is a black marble staircase that goes on forever."
âNo, it really was a pizza parlour." Lukie sat in the drivers' seat. "And she was playing poker. At least I learned more about the banshee."
Happy STS! Whatâs your favorite platonic moment between two of your characters?
Happy STS, Kellđ
Oh dear, there just so many. I write a large cast with relatively little romance, so most of the touching moments are intended as platonic. I particularly enjoy all the moments between Lissan and Gullin when they tease and egg each other on, while bystanders would agree that their sense of humour is on the morbid side. I particularly adore all the training sessions between them, especially when Gullin gets overly confident, like here (and gets a handful of snow dumped down his collar).
But as for favourite moments, I'm afraid they are all massive spoilersđ
