Turning mud into a sculpture

 The completion of the first draft of a story is always an odd experience for me. It is this feeling of elation mixed with a bit of nausea when I realize that the first draft is generally what one may politely call...rough. Impolitely, it could be called many things far worse.

The Dreaming Sea's tale is there, on paper, ready for me to review then slice and dice and build upon. I shudder in horror if someone were to read this and expect a complete story. When I make a first draft it is an experimental playground. I will frequently switch POV, to see which character works best to tell the story from. I may shift the tone of the story around a bit to see what works best for delivering the story. It's a mad jumble before I put it on the forge and hammer it out...but it's there.

Time to take a couple of weeks to clear my head and take care of a few other things around here so I can get in the mind space necessary for sculpting something beautiful from this muddy puddle. It will get there, and I will offer as many updates as I can over the coming months. This will likely NOT be the final pass at this story so the release window has been pushed back to sometime in mid 2022. Sorry to disappoint but that's how it goes when one aspires for something worthy of my readers' attention.

Hope everyone has a great transition into Autumn here in the northern hemisphere. Looking forward to dragging more of this tale into the light in the coming months.

Also, please check out the first two books in my highly rated Concentric Worlds series! https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08KGSN1YM

Back to School...and Work

 My five year old began school last week, which caused no small amount of anxiety in the household. It's been just as rough for us as it has been on him, I think. Sending our little boy out into the great big world to experience some small level of independence is scary. 

I've been a work from home dad for eleven years, now. There's a lot to be said for being your own boss and taking control of your own fate...but there's also something to be said for stability in the form of not putting the entire world on your shoulders.

Over the past several weeks I have had a stirring inside of me as I continue my own mental health recovery process. It has led me down the avenue of searching for a job outside the home. To that extent I took a shot in the dark and am about to go to work for the good old USPS. It will be part time to start, which is perfect. Still, it ads no small amount of stress to the household. 

I am wondering what it is going to do to my writing schedule, but not overly concerned. I have always taken the 'trench writing' approach; writing whenever I get a small stretch of silence so I can think. I don't imagine it will be much different whether I am delivering mail or chasing a small child around the house.

Draft one of The Dreaming Sea is in the home stretch. I'm over 70,000 words in and beginning the wrap up chapters. I'd be lying if I said it was a great draft, but it is a start. I already have a litany of changes for draft two, including shifting the focus from one character to another and probably eliminating the chapter that I am currently writing, altogether. Being a writer is so frustrating before it becomes rewarding.

Personally, I am feeling much better these days. My mental health has largely stabilized and my thinking has been clarifying with each day. It's like emerging from a fog bank and finding a whole world that I couldn't see through the depression.

Here's to all the adventures that still await.

Until next time.

The Journey Back

 This morning I woke up, took a deep breath, opened the curtains in my bedroom and let the light spill into my little world. I looked outside and saw the town waking, clouds dotting the sky and birds rushing from nests to find food for their young ones. I was okay, and knew that everything would be alright as my five year old opened the bedroom door to let me know that he was awake and ready to start his busy day of playing with trains.

A month ago I wouldn't have been okay. In fact, I would have been very far from okay.

The pandemic took a pretty large psychological toll on me, and I can now admit that I wasn't right for a long time before then, either. It was simply the boulder that broke my back. I tried my best to keep it inside but as the world was beginning to heal, and things were slowly approaching a new normal, I wasn't. I was getting worse.

Anxiety can be sneaky. For me it crept up over years until I had reached a point where I was left completely dysfunctional and depressed. Not only couldn't I write, but I couldn't function as a parent or spouse. My poor wife finally forced me to face it in late April. I couldn't go on without help and was heading for the worst kind of psychological crash.

I am the kind of person who always swore that they would never resort to mood stabilizing medication because I felt like it represented a failure on my part. From the time I was young it was beaten into me pretty hard that depression is a weakness and means that you're a terrible and useless person. It was a huge mountain for me to summit. It was daunting, it hurt, and I kicked and railed against it for a very long time.

Then I was sitting there in my doctor's office, listening to what was going on inside me from a medical standpoint. Due to the other issues that were fighting to physically take me down -- namely a wonky immune system -- my body had virtually no serotonin. It was being attacked by my immune system. It was likely something I have lived with ever since I was an anxious 4 year old hiding in the bathroom at school because I was having a panic attack.

Fast forward to late May. A few weeks on my new medication and I have emerged from the haze and fatigue that comes with stabilizing, finding my focus to write again. Between my last post and now I had barely touched The Dreaming Sea, but I have had a couple of positive sessions in the last two weeks that have shown me that I can still find my writing voice. In fact, the words that come out of me now have a new life to them -- showing a heart and soul endeavor that I never realized was missing until now.

So, with some patience, draft one of The Dreaming Sea should wrap up over the next month or two. I'm not going to rush it. The words come out when they are ready.

Thank you to everyone who has expressed concern, frustration, and understanding toward me over this difficult time. I'm not sure I can ever say that I am completely healed, because I feel like it is an infinite process. Maybe that's what makes it worthwhile.

Cheers until next time.

The Dreaming Sea - February Update

 Well, I've been away for a minute.

This continuing limbo of existence that began eleven months ago continues to hit me in unexpected ways. One of those ways has been a really deep bout of psychological fatigue. I attempted to work through it but ended up taking more days off between writing sessions and, eventually, a two week hiatus in the middle of drafting. I have never done that before. It's been an eye opening experience. I have discovered that on this particular book taking more time off between sessions has been more productive. I am now writing just two or three times per week but the quality of what I am writing is higher than what I was churning out when I was trying to force myself to write every day.

I'm about halfway through the first draft of The Dreaming Sea. The story is coming along well. I think that once it is layered in subsequent drafts it will be a very compelling science fiction work. It is going to take me a while to get there. I had an initial goal of releasing it by summer but it is looking more and more like a later in the year release. That's fine. It's not like I want to release another book into the void during the pandemic, anyway.

I think things are slowly on the upswing, but it looks like the light at the end of the tunnel is depressingly distant and falling further away from us day by day. I know we will get there but the journey has not been something I would wish upon my worst enemy.

Blogging isn't something that I feel super compelled to do, but I do like to give updates to my readers, and fellow writers who need someone to commiserate with. So, I hope that these infrequent ramblings help someone out there to realize that they aren't alone in struggling through this dark moment in human history.

Stay safe, and keep on writing and reading.

2020 - the Year That Wasn't

I have been trying to write a blog post about what the approaching end of the year means for me, emotionally and physically. It's so hard, because the year has just been a pile of crap, but so many people around the world have suffered worse. So, who am I to complain? 

I can't even touch on survivor's guilt at this point because, despite the vaccine out there, this isn't over. 

For the better part of nine months life has been suspended and we simply exist in this held breath of anticipation -- of either a cure or death. How do we reconcile all of that, psychologically? How do we handle being here while so many of our loved ones aren't? More than one in every thousand people in the United States have succumbed to Covid. That number blows my mind.

On top of all of that, people have been forced to work in environments that are pretty unsafe and dealt with all of the other 'normal' stuff in any given year. People have loved, lost, watched their homes burn, been buried in debt, buried their pets, been taken for granted and abused -- only in larger numbers. It's a consequence of psychological stress that crimes and other abuses have increased pretty drastically.

2020 is going to go down in history as the year that wasn't -- and that is the way it should be.

I have heard it from many people that they were surprised to learn about the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918-20. History has largely forgotten about it. Why? The answer is because no one WANTED to remember it after that terrible period was over. It was traumatic for the survivors and nobody wanted to dwell on it after it was over.

2020 should simply receive an asterisk in history with a footnote that reads, "It was the year without hope. That is all." We should bury this year like we have buried so many others during it. It's possible to use it as an example to be better prepared in the future for another pandemic but also brush it aside and look to the future. Honestly, it's the only way we are going to psychologically survive as individuals after going through so much. 

After the vaccination threshold for herd immunity is reached, people are going to be flooding beaches, having gatherings, and trying to feel normal again Yet, there is going to be a stigma to doing such -- a guilt that comes from how 2020 has changed us. It shouldn't. We lived. Mourn our dead and then let their memory become immortal upon the pyre of time, but don't torment yourselves for still being here. 

So, as 2020 goes out with a frustrated exhale of mental fatigue, let's allow it to be what it was without mentally caging us within it for the rest of our lives.

2021 is going to be rocky for sure but, unlike 2020, it will be a year filled with hope. You are going to be okay, and that is alright. Don't let your mind come back to this year, again. It's over. It's finally over.

All Aboard the Holiday Struggle Bus

 It's one day away from December and a lot of us are probably already in the same boat. Not quite a week after Thanksgiving and we are feeling just as stuffed as the Turkeys we popped out of the oven and down our gullets. We're at the point where we are slowing down, getting behind on routines, and pet projects are being brushed in favor of holiday festivities -- albeit socially distanced this year. It's easy to get lost in everything going on around us -- on top of the crap show that already is 2020.

I've been struggling with motivation for months and it has only been compounded by the holiday shopping, cooking, unhealthy snacking, and general seasonal blase that I go through every winter.

Writers and other creatives really struggle this time of year, adding to increased chances of suffering from seasonal affected disorder and general stress.

True, family stress might seem to be reduced this season as many people are opting not to gather with relatives for the holidays but the truth may be just the opposite. What's the number one gift that family gives to one another? Guilt. If you think guilt won't be an issue this year, you might want to think again. Seeing grandma's sad face over that zoom call isn't going to make you feel any better while stuffing gingerbread men in your mouth with only your pets to watch you this year.

We're all in a predicament this year. So, how do we combat it to get ourselves back on track?

1. Try giving yourself dedicated time to indulge yourself in your hobbies.

It doesn't necessarily have to be writing or anything as complex as creating something to start. Put together a puzzle, read a book, watch a movie. The important thing is that you need to have a safe space to turn your brain off and let it rest. Stress is a monster that eats away at creativity and relaxing your mind will go a long way toward healing it enough for motivation to come back. You may find that as you indulge in this restful time that you have an urge to create -- go for it! If not, then just kick back and relax with this dedicated time. If you repeat it enough you may feel the spark come back.

2. Don't let outside forces make you feel guilty for doing the right thing.

This is easier said than done. We have a whole lot of pressure on us to behave a certain way. In this trying time most of us have opted to stay safe and do our part to get through this pandemic. Yet, we all have friends and family that don't understand that and will do their best to guilt or shame us into doing something we don't want to do. You're not a bad person or a monster for saying no. Find a way to connect with other people who are going through the same situation. Social media is filled with folks who are dealing with these same struggles. Some treat it with humor, others need a virtual shoulder to lean on. It's okay. It's also okay to acknowledge the guilt and that it's okay to NOT be okay right now. Nothing about this time in our lives is normal.

3. The kids are driving you nuts? Super parent needs to take a rest and give in to compromise. 

For generations parents have been mocked when letting the kids watch too much tv or play video games, but in all honesty these are no normal times and if you live in a frozen tundra for several months of the year "go outside and play" isn't always an option. Here in Michigan we can experience weeks at a time where going outside to play isn't an option. Don't feel guilty for giving the kids games and videos to experience. Try to balance it with books and educational materials but our kids are going through the stress of this pandemic with us. They internalize a lot of it, and react far differently from it than we do, but it doesn't mean that they aren't suffering. They need an outlet, and if that outlet is sniping zombies in a virtual environment then they should be allowed that opportunity. A content child is going to be far less clingy and will allow dad or mom the space necessary to engage in their own stress mitigation steps or hobbies.

4. What if you're motivated but don't have the time for your craft?

This is a boat that I am almost always in. I have writing that I want to do, but it's hard to find the time to hide away and scribe. I call my solution 'guerrilla creativity.' I will often leave my chromebook open and handy. If my 4 year old is heading into the bathroom to take a wicked poop I will open it up and get a few sentences down. WHEW! 50 words! Not a lot of progress, right? No, but if you can find ten times throughout the course of a day to jump back to your work in a similar manner you can turn those 50 words into 500. A child's bedtime is also a great opportunity to spend even just a few moments working.

5. Leave the phone out of the room when you're writing or creating.

I see this a LOT on social media: "I should be writing but here I am on Twitter." Listen, this may come as a surprise but for every benefit smartphone technology has gifted upon us it has brought about an equally detrimental habit. I didn't even begin my writing career until after I deleted facebook a year and a half ago. After I did that I published 2 books. That's a whole lot of wasted time dickering with social media that I could have spent starting this career earlier in life. I'm not telling everyone to delete social media. It is necessary for some people to stay in touch, particularly in this socially distanced year, but there are times the phone shouldn't be with you. In this one respect treat your alone time as respectfully as you would treat a funeral or a job. Leave the phone silenced and, if possible, out of the room. If you don't feel comfortable going that far then just make sure it's only set to ring for emergencies. The whole point is to eliminate distractions and temptations. Once you take away that deliciously tempting toy your mind will naturally focus more on what you want to accomplish. 

This is only a partial list of ways for creatives to cope. We live in a weird world right now. We always say to try to be kind to one another, but it is equally important to be kind to ourselves. Take care of the foundation of your career/hobby -- that means you.

Wading Through Life and its Inevitabilities

 Progress on The Dreaming Sea continues to be uneven. I had a good sprint last week but since Saturday I have written around one thousand words. It's not so much a lack of motivation as it is distraction. I typically write the most after everyone else goes to bed but Monday night I was cuddling my kitten the night before her surgery to be spayed. Then, last night, I was keeping a close watch on her until one in the morning to ensure that she wasn't pulling stitches. Eventually, I had to isolate her in the downstairs bathroom for the night because her brother wanted to wrestle and play with her. It was a little too ambitious for her delicate state. 

Yesterday was also time for my annual vaccinations. The flu vaccine always hits me rather hard for a day or two. Very sore and running a slight fever today. My goal is to write tonight but it really depends on how I feel. I hate taking three consecutive days off from working on my book but I also hate writing uninspired junk, even if it is a first draft.

Mentally, I have been doing better lately. There's some sense of hope in life, again. Winter is closing in on us here in Michigan but there's a sense of movement in the world for the first time in many months. I feel like we are past the mid-point in this terrible pandemic. So much senseless loss of life. I only hope that people take precautions while we await the vaccines to become available. 

I feel like I can dream of a time when the distance between us doesn't feel so insurmountable. My children's generation will certainly have some interesting stories to tell their future grandchildren. They are scarred. I can see it in my teenager's eyes and the way my four year old loses his patience so easily. The anxiety has done something to all of us. Turn on the news and you will see plenty of evidence of it. I hope it will pass and that we will heal, in time.

I also long for a time when I can get out and meet my readers again. It's no secret that I've always been an introvert but this plague has made me seriously reconsider my stance on the issue. I miss faces and smiles, particularly the smiles. I have to believe that they are still there, though veiled by layers of life-saving cloth.

Hang in there, folks. We're far from out of the woods, but I think I see the treeline rising in the distance now.

Discover my books on amazon!

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08KGSN1YM

Entering the Dreaming Sea

 The process of getting back into writing after a hiatus has never been an issue for me in the past, but the transition back into writing mode this time around has absolutely confounded me. It wasn't an issue of my skills getting rusty or losing my magical author superpowers. Motivation was my biggest barrier. With the continued pandemic I didn't really feel like writing another book to throw into the void. 

The release of Maestra has been successful but online sales will never equate to the experience of being in front of people, discussing my writing, and selling my work. It's validating of all the time and money investment that I put into my craft. I love creating art but there is an endorphin rush from selling my art, too. I have been that way for years with my other crafts that I create. Without the ability to get out there and physically sell my books I struggle with motivation. Occasionally I get a nice message from a reader about how much they love my book and that really gives me a nudge, though. 

Mental focus has been another issue. With so much happening in the world around us, and in particular the dumpster fire of hate and vitriol that is the political climate in the United States, it has felt really hopeless to attempt to do anything other than sit on the couch and wait for inevitable doom. They say to surround yourself with positive people in your life but I have very few of those around me. So, it's up to me to buoy myself back to the surface when life throws rocks at me. I am learning to dodge, even at 44. 

I've made two attempts to get back into writing on this new project and failed twice. I managed to scratch out a couple of chapters but finding a rhythm was impossible with so much noise going on around me. An attempt early last week resulted in me writing the hottest garbage I have created since middle school.

Yesterday I actually woke up with the spirit of writing back inside me. I had a productive morning session and a productive evening session. I wrote more than 2,300 words and have my story focused on course. Draft one of The Dreaming Sea is going to be different. It's going to be more of a skeletal outline than my previous works and may require an extra draft in process to get it all fleshed out. Normally I do three passes but this being a science fiction work it is going to need an extra level of pizzazz to get to a standard that I'm happy with. It's different from writing horror. Killing people is easy. Keeping them alive and giving them hope is hard. 

Also, today is the last day to get a free copy of Maestra on Kindle here! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08H24LB12

Cheers!

Every Dream Ends

 As I drifted off to sleep last night my mind returned to Autumn of 2006. I was playing with my little ginger cow kitten in the foyer of my old house. I saw everything in clarity like I had never left. I could see the house just the way it was, down to the cobwebs dangling off the chimney pipe coming off the wood stove after a summer of disuse. The little kitty boy was wound up and when my then girlfriend opened up the front door he darted out. My dream of the past quickly turned into a nightmare that I also recall just as vividly. The kitten darted across the road into a dark woods. I could hear him crying from across the road. I crossed into the forest and searched for him for hours but all I could hear was his fading mews as he ran away, scared as the sun was setting. I couldn't sleep all that night. I put bowls of food on the front porch in case he came home. I checked every hour until 4 in the morning when I saw that half the bowl of food had been eaten. I grabbed a flashlight and looked all over the yard. I was about to give up when I peeked underneath my back deck and, sure enough, there was little Mango staring at me -- wild eyed. I hollered at him and he ran right up to me. I held him for hours, cuddling him as I went back to bed for the remainder of the night.

Then my dream turned to years later, in the Spring of 2010 after we had moved downstate to my home town. Mango would sit in my laundry room window every day, watching this little wild cat who would come sit on a bench beneath the window and talk to him. It was the same routine every day. Eventually, a few days before Christmas, the wild cat now name Clarysse decided that she wanted to come inside and meet her Mango.

They were inseparable. Just this summer we took in a stray kitten, then adopted another. Mango and Clare (after ten years together) were finally parents and loved their babies. Day and night they would snuggle and play. They were a perfectly adorable family.

Until yesterday. 

After two days of appearing to be under the weather and off his food, I took Mango to the vet for some tests. I believed he had a hairball based on his coughing and cramping. It wasn't a hairball, but liver cancer. His intestines had shut down. At 14.5 years old any procedure was dangerous and the doctor felt the prognosis was poor, even with surgery.

I lost that sweet little kitten yesterday. It hits particularly hard right now. We lost our other fluffy boy, Coal, just a month and a half ago after a battle with leukemia. All the while that we were tending to Coal our Mango boy was dealing with his own silent fight -- and we never knew.

I wanted to write this down, preserve his story in some form. He was much more than a cat. He was my buddy, and truly felt like my child. He is gone. The last chapter in his innocent little story has come to an end, and the dream has slipped into the ethereal. Goodbye, my big bear.

Back on writing hiatus for a bit until I feel better.

Cheers,

Stuffing the Monster Back in the Closet

 I haven't completely hidden my mental health struggles over the past several months but, man, did they ever get the better of me while I was on my writing hiatus. 

There is only so much family fun time that any one individual can take before they run screaming into the night. That needs to be said, and it needs to be normalized. You can love your kids more than anyone has loved anything in the whole history of ever and still reach a point where (especially during a pandemic) you just can't breathe anymore and need a break. I reached that point a couple of months ago but kept pushing through it. Once Maestra was done and turned in I didn't have that distraction anymore and Pandora's box of nightmares and anxiety was officially open and flooding through my life. On top of my own insecurities I was suddenly dealing with a teenager and a four year old also suffering from varying degrees of anxiety and mental health issues. I am leaving my poor wife out of this because she is dealing with things (better than I) and knows that I am there to support her in whatever way she needs.

Simply said, my mind has tricked me into believing that the entire world is falling apart. It's not my first rodeo and I'm sure it won't be my last. I'm intelligent and sane enough to realize that the brain is extremely skilled at coping with stress while still amplifying anxiety until seemingly small things blow up into crippling doubts about any given subject. Throw in a four year old who can make train horn whistle sounds for twelve hours straight right next to my ears and it becomes a situation beyond the stress of anything that I have ever experienced, before, in my life.

What's another consequence of this, you may or may not ask? Suddenly I find myself suffering from Impostor Syndrome, again. I've had a successful book launch just weeks ago but I now find myself incapable of starting my next book because my head is full of doubts being shouted at me from somewhere within the darkness of my mind meat. It's like this large looming monster whispering at me from a closet, beckoning me onward and into the darkness. It eats into my mental health and cripples me until I have days where I am incapable of doing anything at all, except keep my children alive and fed until my wife gets home from work. 

I have said it before and I will say it again because it REALLY needs to be echoed around the world right now: It's absolutely okay to be broken. The world is crap. This country is particularly crappy right now as we are the most divided that we have been since the Civil War. Tolerance and Acceptance have flown out the window and the few people who haven't been utterly polarized are standing here wondering if we're the crazy ones. I am heartbroken for the world around us and what it has done to us.

So how do I get through this alive, and also convince myself that I actually am a writer again? That's an excellent question. Several times over the past week I have tried to get into the new story. I found that I couldn't write any words on the page. It felt so intimidating. I didn't even feel that overwhelmed when starting my first book. Then I spent a few days just working on furthering my world building and outlining. I was convinced that having more of a fleshed out blue print would make it easier to start writing. I was wrong. It hasn't helped. I have tried to set aside a more private space to write in. Nope. Not helping. Last week I tried taking a day for myself and getting away to the family cottage to quiet the monster. In the silence it's voice got louder and I came back home before noon. 

Through all of this I am keeping in the front of my mind that all of this is transitory. We're 15 days from an election that will either help heal the nation or be a catalyst toward a new civil war, depending on how the winner and loser both handle the situation - will it be with dignity and grace or with open disdain and hostility toward the process which will incite violence upon one another?

Again, it's transitory. It has to be. This isn't the end of me, or of humanity. It will pass. 

When it does I will still be a writer. 

Until then I am going to have to learn to ignore that calling from the void that would rather break me down and leave me in perpetual darkness.

___________

R.M. Smith's Concentric Worlds series on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08KGSN1YM

Hiatus Continues, Bathroom Remodeling Fun!

 When Michigan went into a Stay at Home order back in March we were in the middle of a bathroom remodel project. The contractor working on it wrapped up as much as they could in the final day but left a couple of days worth of work left to finish. They promised that as soon as the Stay at Home order was lifted they would be back the next day and finish. The Stay at Home order was lifted 4 months ago. I don't think they're coming back -- especially after the owner blocked my phone number. 

So, my wife and I are going to be handling the mostly cosmetic touches ourselves. A few weeks ago I installed a bi-fold closet door. Next up I silicon sealed around the bathtub. Tomorrow we will be picking up the paint. We had to wait until the end of summer so we could get some relatives to agree to watch our 4 year old while we get project-y. I love my son but he absolutely gets in the way like you wouldn't believe. This morning he went in after I put down the silicon seal and smeared it all over the floor and dug it out of the groove between the tub and the floor. Good times.

To no one's surprise, I haven't done much on my next book yet. Last night I finally made myself sit down and work on some world building. It's not much but it's a solid first step. The way my brain works, now that I have that initial step taken, I will build off from it at a steady pace until I begin drafting later on this month. I'm hoping to finish writing it by June, 2021 so I can actually enjoy a pleasant couple of months of summer weather off from writing before beginning work on the next book in the Concentric Worlds series.

Meanwhile, Maestra is out in the wild and selling surprisingly well. I am eagerly awaiting some feedback on it (good or bad.) I very much look forward to signing copies and meeting fans, again, when the world is a safer place. 

Back in February when I did my last book signing I had no idea that it could potentially be a year and a half before I would be able to do another appearance. This whole pandemic is still so surreal. 

I hope that the world will be a more united place once the virus is gone. I know my country has a long way to go toward healing. We've spent the last several years becoming so divided that life feels pretty hopeless, anymore.

One day at a time. 

Check out all my published works here: https://www.amazon.com/R-M-Smith/e/B07ZGH16ZC/

Author Q & A

 Over the past couple of months I have fielded some questions in real life and through direct messages on my social media about writing, some more specific than others. Here's my attempt to answer some of these:

Q. What got you into writing?

A. I had been working on a concept for a few years. I decided in March, 2019 to quit Facebook because social media can be a terrible thing when it gets under your skin. The same day that I deleted my Facebook account I wrote the first 1,700 words of Morbid Fascinations of David Bennett. 

I have wanted to write ever since I was a kid, though. In high school I wrote a never ending stream of short, and admittedly stupid, horror tales. 

Q. What was your first professional writing job?

A. Well, I can't really count serving as a head news writer at my high school radio station since I didn't get paid for that. For a number of years I did writing jobs as part of an independent contractor gig. I made a surprising amount of money writing the long-form descriptions that you would find on the back of Adult DVDs. Hey, it paid my utilities for years.

Q. Why horror?

A. Why not?

Q. Who are your biggest influences as a writer?

A. Clive Barker, H.P. Lovecraft, Bram Stoker, Arthur C. Clarke, Frank Herbert, J.R.R. Tolkien. Each of those authors affected me in profound ways. 

Q. Do I need to read Morbid Fascinations before I read Book 2, Maestra. 

A. Probably would be best. Otherwise you may be a bit confused and not be impacted as strongly by certain events in Maestra. Maestra isn't so much a sequel as a concurrent story that intertwines with MFoDB's timeline.

Q. Were you worried about writing your first book 1st person and making the entire story take place through journal entries?

A. Oh, definitely. In some ways it worked very well but it made for an incredibly challenging book to write. Trying to maintain focus on the story through the eyes of a character who is clearly losing his mental faculties is a rough job.

Q. Is Maestra written in the same style as MFoDB?

A. No. Maestra is 3rd person and more traditional in style. There was no way to write this somewhat epic story in a 1st person manner. It would have been far too limiting.

Q. Why change genres within the same series?

A. I want to push the reader out of their comfort zone a bit, as well as myself. The world is big, wide, and full of different emotions. Writers shouldn't be afraid of reaching out and exploring many ways of telling a story arc. Life has scary moments, funny ones, romance so why not use each book as an opportunity to focus on a different aspect of the journey?

Q. Did you always plan a sequel to Morbid Fascinations?

A. About halfway through the first draft I realized that the story had a lot more to tell. There will be at least four books in the Concentric Worlds.

Q. So, what's next?

A. I am on hiatus until sometime in October or November when I start drafting The Dreaming Sea, a standalone science fiction novel.

Q. Any advice to someone who wants to write a book?

A. Clive Barker once said to write persistently like it's your career. I agree, to an extent, but you also need to know when to pull back and give yourself a break. Don't take so long off that you start to lose the fire for the story. If you're overwhelmed by it just try writing in smaller chunks. Even if you only write a few hundred words every few days it is still progress and it keeps your head in your story without feeling like a burden. Break it down into chunks. Writing 500 words four times per week will let you draft a 100,000 word book in 1 year. It's all about perspective.

It's Happening!

 This past Friday was the official release for Maestra in all formats. The hardcover from Barnes and Noble is big and beautiful, easy to read and looks great on my coffee table. The paperback is an absolute unit at 646 pages.

I had zero expectations for the release of this book with the global pandemic eating into everyone's minds and wallets. I have made it available for free to Kindle Unlimited subscribers, as is my previous book. To my surprise I have actually moved a decent amount of books through Amazon since the release on Friday. Book 1 has definitely seen a boost, as well.

A year and a half ago I began this adventure into a career of writing and I had no expectation beyond wanting to share my stories with the world. I want to take a minute to thank everyone who has helped this dream become a reality for me. All the readers, my family, my friends who have all supported this endeavor - I am indebted to you all.

For the time being I am sitting back and doing what limited promotion that I can. Beyond that I am just going to take a few more weeks to relax and plot out the course for my next book before I begin writing it.

Also, I'm going to be playing with kittens. 

Cheers! Let me know your thoughts if you have read these books, and please leave a review where you purchased them or on Goodreads.

The Morbid Fascinations of David Bennett (ebook or paperback): https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1701845431

hardcover: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-morbid-fascinations-of-david-bennett-r-m-smith/1134337814

Maestra: (ebook or paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08H24LB12

hardcover: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/maestra-r-m-smith/1137596053

Pandemic Kittens

 It has been anything but a boring week here. After adopting baby Reginauld nearly 2 weeks ago we discovered that he brought a feline respiratory virus into the house with him. Our little rescue ragdoll ended up costing us a fair amount of money because we had to run our other kitten and our 12 year old cat to the vet for emergency treatment for secondary infections. Oh, and then we had to run baby Reggie back to the vet because we also discovered that he has ringworm. 

On the one hand I am very glad that he came to live with us because his health obviously wasn't great and I'm not sure how long he would have survived in his crowded foster home with all of his ailments.

On the other hand I am incredibly frustrated with the rescue organization because it was overcrowded and we were given conflicting information on the health of the kitten and other cats in the home -- as well as his vaccination and neutering record. He was advertised as neutered but definitely wasn't (as he wags his junk in my face.)

The moral of the story is do your homework. We thought we did, but turns out that unexpected things can and will happen when adopting a pet. I still have no regrets about it. He's a sweetheart and little Arabella loves having a brother to wrestle with.

I'm still gearing up for the release of Maestra. It's hard to get very excited about releasing a book in the middle of the pandemic. Promoting my book has been very limiting and I feel completely lost without being able to go out and do shows and book signings to promote it. It's not even like I'm pushing a boulder up a hill, it's more like trying to push the hill itself. 

Authors definitely aren't in this to get rich, that's for sure.

All I want with my work is for it to connect with some readers and leave an impression on them, making them think or change the way they perceive the world. When I hear feedback (even negative) I learn and grow from it. It keeps me going.

Thank you to everyone who supports me on this grand adventure. Cheers, and I hope you enjoy the book.

Pre-Order Maestra on Amazon for $2.99 or free on Kindle Unlimited. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08H24LB12

Gluten and Dairy Free Treat Perfect for Halloween

 First off, the recipe:

6 cups Cinnamon Cheerios

1 bag 10 oz mini marshmallows (the cheaper the better, will explain why.)

3 table spoons plant based butter

It's pretty simple. Pre-butter or spray a 9 x 13 pan.

Grab a microwave safe bowl. Put the butter and marshmallows in the bowl and microwave for one minute.

Stir the brew.

Microwave for approximately another 30 seconds.

Stir some more and make sure the mallows are melted.

Throw in those cinnamon cheerios and mix it all together.

Pour into the pan and try to smooth it. Good luck with that part. I suck at it.

The cheaper the marshmallows are the better because less expensive ones are more likely to contain artificial ingredients rather than dairy based emulsifiers. So, this is one time that those 99 cent store brand marshmallows are likely going to be perfect for what you need.

These treats are incredibly tasty but just because they are gluten and dairy free it doesn't mean they are healthy. Even Cheerios, on their own, are marginal in their health benefits despite the heart healthy claims in their marketing. Adding the mallows really pushes it into that category of junk food treat best kept away from diabetics and anyone else trying to live past 60.

They're so tasty, though.

Enjoy!

p.s. I write horror. Buy my latest book, Maestra here! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08H24LB12

Nothing Ever Goes as Planned

 After finishing edits on Maestra I decided to take a 2 month writing hiatus. Should be peaceful, right? It's been anything but.

Last week my family adopted a rescue kitten. This little guy: 

Sir Reginauld Bunnington the First.

Unfortunately, he had a bit of a snuffle when he came home and was on an antibiotic to treat it. Well, it quickly became obvious it was a virus and not a bacterial infection because our other kitten became sick and the crud has now made its way to the other two senior cats, as well. They should recover but baby Arabella, the five month old kitten, had to go to the vet to be pumped full of fluids. Calicivirus is nasty. It leaves them lethargic, high fever, inflamed joints, ulcerations in their mouths, and many other nasty things. So I am here caring for convalescing cats, carrying my senior cat to his litter pan because his joints are so sore that he can't walk.

Even if I wanted to jump back into writing earlier than planned it's not going to happen.

Reginauld is completely recovered and just a happy little ragdoll. He gets along with everyone and loves to cuddle. Not a mean bone in his fluffy little body. He exists to be snuggled. I feel bad that he's going in on Monday to lose his nuggets, but it obviously needs to be done. My Chromebook is his nemesis, though. Whenever it is open he has to lay across the keyboard.

I am slowly fleshing out the outline for my next novel, a standalone science fiction piece. It should be somewhat shorter than my last two offerings. I think it will be great fun. It will definitely be more hopeful in tone than my horror books. 

Time to find out what the next few weeks of hiatus holds for me!

Be sure to check my author page on Amazon for all the latest updates, including links to all my books!

https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07ZGH16ZC

Expanding the Universe

 Maestra releases in just under two weeks. I've been a bundle of nerves. This is my second full length novel and it is ambitious. When I set out to write this kind of book I considered keeping it pretty simple and using a safe approach but I knew that in order to tell Arabella's story that I had to give it a wide scope. Morbid Fascinations of David Bennett was closed quarters paranormal horror. The settings were few and the story relied on the claustrophobia to hold the suspense. Maestra opens up to a world far more vast than anything I have ever written before. It really challenged me to world build and I learned a lot in the eleven months that it took me to craft this 125,000 word epic dark fantasy tale of the incredible.

Maestra is divided into three distinct acts. Part 1 is all about getting to know Arabella as an awkward, depressed teenager. She is cocooned within her insecurities as a result of feeling different from other students at her school. She believes that she is utterly alone in the universe and finds herself curious about a mysterious stranger who takes an interest in her, although in the back of her mind she realizes that there is something terribly wrong with the entire situation.

By Part 2 we see the story open up from a relatively limited scope of a small Colorado city to a much broader canvas beyond anything the reader could have anticipated. Suddenly Ari's life changes. Time goes by, and she develops into a rather normal feeling adult, though the nagging of her past tragedies continue to haunt her.

What happens beyond this is for the reader to discover. Along the way she will find the meaning of family, love, loss, and what it means to take control of your own destiny -- no matter how tragic it may seem to be. Maestra is all things; it's dark, it's light, it's heavy and foreboding, it's humorous in its bleakest moments. It is a story of life and what one defeated human being is willing to do to save a world that never gave her a chance.

I poured my heart and soul into writing this book. It drained me and tore my heart out to create this fantastic universe. I sincerely hope you will join me for this transformative journey and learn why there is still a reason to fight against hopelessness in the world.

Maestra, available September 25th, 2020. Pre-order now on E-book for $2.99. Paperback NOW available for order, $21.99 Prime eligible from Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08H24LB12

Also available in Hardcover and Paperback through Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/maestra-r-m-smith/1137565822

Endings

 The past few days have been an odd time here. Over the weekend I finished Maestra and got it ready for release later this month. I was relieved, happy with the end result, and exhausted. I didn't feel like celebrating, though.

In March our 11 year old Siberian Ragdoll cat was diagnosed with Feline Leukemia. He was losing his battle since the end of last week and it sadly came to an end yesterday.

It's absolutely impossible to celebrate anything right now. The house is sullen, the other cats are roaming and looking for their brother. My four year old is coping the way young children do. My 15 year old is spending time with her mother 70 miles away and I can't be there to comfort her during this. 

Between the pandemic and everything associated with it and now the loss of our beloved Coal McPatches my memories of writing Maestra are very mixed. I am incredibly proud of this book and how well it has turned out. I sincerely hope that some people out there connect with it, also. However, I don't think I'm going to be able to read it or revisit my memories of writing it for quite a while. It came from the ashes of a world on fire and my own mental health struggles, which have become more serious of late. Somehow, in the middle of it all, I crafted this diamond that I hope shines long after I am gone from this world. It's a fairly bleak epic. The world around us has undoubtedly influenced the tone of the book. 

Arabella's journey will absolutely tear at your heart. It's the story of wrestling control of your own destiny away from those who would control it for us. We all may strive toward an inevitable fate, but the journey there should be on our own terms. Maestra is roughly 600 pages spanning years, dimensions, and emotional highs and lows in the life of one woman who simply wants to know 'why me?' We've all been there and can identify with the concepts of her struggles, if not the specific supernatural details of it.

I will be revisiting the Concentric Worlds in the years ahead but I bid farewell to it, for a little while.

In October I will begin work on my first science fiction novel, The Dreaming Sea.

The first two volumes in The Concentric Worlds are over 200,000 words and nearly 1,000 pages of Lovecraftian influenced paranormal horror/dark fantasy that will satiate the hungriest of horror appetites:

Find The Morbid Fascinations of David Bennett on sale now, and Maestra available for pre-order (releases September 25th) here: https://www.amazon.com/R-M-Smith/e/B07ZGH16ZC/

Why Does it Have to Be Yellow Jackets?

 It's been a fairly quiet August here in the Smith household. The kids are in virtual school, the pandemic is pandemicing, the new kitten has taken over the household and I have been editing Maestra.

I'm around 70% of the way through edits and I have a self imposed deadline of the end of August to complete the project. This was thoroughly derailed this morning by a pest problem.

For the past couple of days, my wife and kids have been hearing a 'mouse' in the walls and ceiling upstairs. You may notice the word 'mouse' in quotation marks. That's because when I heard the sound this morning I decided to investigate. 

On the ceiling of my 4 year old's bedroom I noticed a paint bubble. I poked at it and there is no drywall behind it. There was a tapping sound in the ceiling all around the area. I think, 'wow, the mouse sure likes to chew up drywall.' Then I slap the ceiling to spook the mouse. The result was a chorus of buzzing and the tapping became a clamor. 

Well, that's not good.

I walked outside to get a better view of what was going on around the roof. Sure enough, yellow jackets swarming the roof where they have made a nice little hole through the fascia and gotten into the attic. I hate yellow jackets. Every single summer that we have lived in this house (seven years now) we have had issues with yellow jackets. We had to cut down our pear tree. They nest in our shed, attic (two years ago), lawn, trees, and now in the attic again. 

So, we have the upstairs bedrooms closed, towels under the doors, and everyone is on the first floor. Pest control should arrive in a few hours to hopefully handle the problem with ease. Until then, it's a fun filled day of paranoia. It's also a rare ninety degree late August day here in Michigan, which makes it difficult to keep the kids outside all day long.

In other words, not much editing is getting done today. Fly swatters and flip flops are on standby in case the striped, stinging menaces decided to invade.

Also, pick up the new and improved ebook of The Morbid Fascinations of David Bennett for just $2.99!

https://www.amazon.com/Morbid-Fascinations-David-Bennett-ebook/dp/B07ZG4N2XB

I cleaned up the text and formatting and made a few minor adjustments, overall. FYI, anyone who already owns a Kindle copy of this now has the updated version on their device. Help support the war against yellow jackets with your purchase! Thanks!

Buzzing along for now...

I Did a Thing

Before I began writing Maestra I came up with a concept of an anthology series of very short stories, roughly 3,000 to 5,000 words. It would be Science Fiction themed and all involve stories with lessons built into them from Humanity's first attempt to colonize an alien world. 

While drafting Maestra I didn't do a whole lot with it other than create a bit of an outline. Last weekend, when I finally put the final draft of Maestra to rest I set out to write the first short story in the series before going on a hiatus.

It didn't take me very long to write up a couple of drafts and edit, so here is the first entry!

It is available on Amazon Kindle and Kindle Unlimited. It is 99 cents to purchase or free through the Kindle Unlimited option if you subscribe to that service. https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08FBRWQVF

I will eventually put more stories up in the series. 

This story serves as a nice bridge to my next project, which will be a full length science fiction novel, tentatively looking to release in Summer 2021 (if there is still a world by then.)

Now a break for a few days before I begin my edits on Maestra.