2020 Plans for The Voss

Hey everyone.

In my last post, I said that I'd tell you what I'm working on at the moment, and I do my best to be a man of my word, so thus I present: the plan.

Now there's no reason to think this plan won't change. I'm nothing if not easily distracted, so if a new idea becomes shiny enough, who knows whether I'll actually stick to this or not. It's just the reality of living up inside my braincase. However, this is my moderately ambitious set of plans for the coming year. Want to start the decade off strong, after all.

I will be putting out Elemental Disturbance in early 2020. It's currently next on the editing queue for another pass, and I've already been in contact with my cover artist. While I can't share any actual images at the moment, I have seen the preliminary cover for book two. She got so excited that she just made me one before I ever asked and said "Does this work?"

And it works. I'll share it out as soon as I can.

I also have OPA book 3 incoming. I haven't settled on a title quite yet, but right now it's called Sovereign Malpractice. That's written, but hasn't seen a lick of editing.

I also have a couple of novellas, including one set in the same world as The Psychic, that are tentatively on the list. But really, 2020 is the year of the Office of Preternatural Affairs over here. However, I also do a lot of short stories. I have one that's already due to come out in 1^st quarter 2020 (I'll give more details once the publisher makes the announcement.), and several more making their way through. There's also a pretty good chance that I release another collection of shorts at long last, so stay on the lookout for that.

And now, if you'll allow me to get aspirational, there are a handful of things on my "I really want to do this" list for this year as well. For starters, I'd like to take a crack at editing an anthology. I would also really like to put out a non-fiction title. I've resisted that for a long time, but I think there's finally something I feel comfortable enough writing about, something I have enough experience with that I won't feel like a complete and total fraud if I try to act like an expert.

And in my heart of hearts, I want to write an epic fantasy. Really badly a lot I want to write an epic fantasy. I doubt any that I write this year would see the light of day before December, but it's itching in my veins.

So that's my 2020 plan. What about you? What exciting projects do you plan to tackle to start the decade off right? Let me know so we can support each other…or drink vodka together. Whichever reaction is appropriate.

Voss

Toxic Influence: New Release

Hello hello! I know it's been a hot minute, but I have a new book out at long last.

Toxic Influence

Dashiel Rourke: sarcastic, questions authority - that's what my higher-ups say, anyway - and the newest member of the Office of Preternatural Affairs. Yeah, like I saw that one coming. I was a counterterrorism grunt and my own department head barely knew my name before things went to hell.

Now my partner's a troll, I've got a hag fixing up my wounds, and the bad guys can light me on fire with their brains. Or worse. The poison gas attacks I was checking out before I got into this mess? Turns out they were a little less terrorist attack and a little more magic spell.


So even if it's just for that reason, I'm going to see this one through. I got into that poison. I've seen what it does to people. Like hell am I going to lie down and let it run its course…even if that does put me up close and personal with one sorcerer too many.

It's 3.99, or free in Kindle Unlimited. Click the link below to check it out.

Toxic Influence

Subtle Diversity in Fiction

It’s pretty common knowledge that I’m an advocate for diversity in fiction. Gender, sexuality, ethnicity. Those are where I’ve managed to, I think, do something with my books. I’ve actively tried to include people from diverse backgrounds in those areas, and I have intentions to include other kinds of diversity when I feel I can do justice to the experience. That includes religion and, more cogent to this post, neurodiversity. People with bipolar disorder, or dissociative identity, or on the autism spectrum. Which is what I want to talk about, but we’ll see about that very shortly.

I think the best way you can include diversity isn’t to make it overt. Not that there are no stories to be told in regards to all that. There are important stories with a very intense connection to the diversity they hold, and they need to be told. They need to be told with respect and knowledge and a damned good understanding of how fiction works, and they will be. But for me, the things I deal with and the way I tend to deal with them, I do my best to make the diversity less in your face. It doesn’t always work out that way, of course. I have characters who are a bit more “right there” with how they’re different.

I was thinking about diversity today, looking at which works I loved that really nailed it. And one came immediately to mind. One that made quite a stir in its time, is still much loved and respected among readers (And film goers, in that format.): Stephen Chbosky’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

Now, you might thing I’m talking about Patrick, who’s gay. But, as much fun as Patrick is, and as much as I love his story and his characterization, I would hardly call him subtle or understated. His plot is very much focused on how he’s gay and people are not okay with that. Super heart-wrenching for me personally, for hopefully obvious reasons, but not what I’m talking about.

I’m talking about Charlie, the main character/narrator. He’s a perfect example of neurodiversity done extremely well, in my opinion. Now, it’s not that it’s never brought up (Obligatory spoiler warning: turn back now if you want to burst into tears reading this book like I did.). Charlie was known to be suicidal, and that does come back around. He even medicates for it.

But that’s not the beautifully subtle part of his character that works so damn well. Now, I’m not a psychologist, but I think there are two very possible options, both of which have strong evidence. What matters most isn’t the exact definition of how Charlie differed from what’s considered average, but the fact that he did, we readers knew it, and we felt for him and loved him anyway. But for matters of clarification, I’m going to lay down two theories: Charlie was either on the autism spectrum, or he was suffering from PTSD from (More spoilers!!) being molested by his aunt as a child… and/or her sudden death that he blames himself for. Most likely and instead of or, if you ask me.

Charlie is emotional over relatively small things. He’s prone to depressive episodes, blind rages, violence. He doesn’t appear to know his own strength. He’s socially awkward, to the point of having only one friend, and for a while none. And so many smaller things that would be difficult to catalog. It's not clear cut to be labeled, especially when I'm not a psychologist in any sense. But they are signs of something other than what we consider baseline neural activity.

And that got me thinking about diversity, and a way things can be handled. We don’t make them a large spectacle, because sometimes that isn’t the best way to make an impact. Sure, sometimes it is, but not always. As a writer or a reader, you make that decision for yourself. But for me, I like to see it handled gently.

So I’m curious: what books do you enjoy that display subtle diversity? Let me know in the comments: always looking for good book recommendations, after all.

Voss

Release: The Elf's Apprentice by Frances Pauli

She's back again! You all know by now how much I love Frances Pauli's books. Well, there's another one to add to my shelf, and maybe you'l add it to yours too: The Elf's Apprentice. Book One of the Love and Magic Series. I got the privilege to read this one early, and it's an incredible book.

A sorcerer, a rebel, and a whole kingdom under fire...

As the sorcerer's new apprentice, Kia's fiery temper is bound to get her into hot water. Evander is obnoxious, arrogant, intolerable, and undeniably the most beautiful elf alive. Even if she passes his relentless testing, working at his side just might kill her. 

Worse, her master has powerful enemies inside the palace. When their attacks turn personal, the sorcerer's apprentice becomes the perfect bait in a deadly trap set to destroy the man who has become far more than just her boss. 

Two lost souls must defend their world, but even if they save the kingdom, they risk losing each other forever.

Buy it Now for Kindle!

Excerpt:
"That's a human," he said. "You're getting desperate."

"She's very good. The best I've seen yet." Lyssia's tone brooked no argument. She got one, just the same.

"And you're the expert on apprentices, I suppose. Perhaps you should stay up here and do my work, and I'll attend to your throne?"

"I am not unskilled, you'll remember."

"And I'm no diplomat." Evander sniffed and stepped away from the wall.

Kia forgot for a moment that they were debating her. The elf sorcerer moved like honey flowing. Each gesture was measured, considered, and then executed with the typical elvin grace, but melded with the deliberate intellect of a master sorcerer. He peered around Lyssia at her, and his eyes held her entranced, frozen as if they truly could cast her in ice.

"I don't need an apprentice," he said.

Kia felt the rejection like a slap that time. This room, this opportunity dangled in front of her, and he meant to snatch it away again without even giving her a chance to try for it.

"Yes you do," Lyssia said. "If for no other reason than to manage this disaster."

"What disaster?" Evander released Kia from the grip of his attention and turned the full chill of his mood on the princess. "This room is exactly in the order I prefer it."

"That book is on fire."

"What?" He spun that time, lost a fraction of his composure in the realization that one of his braziers had, in fact, caught a book on fire. His arms waved in an arc. The sleeves of the heavy red robe he wore billowed, and the flames died. A single line of smoke rippled up to the rafters. "Bother."

"You see?" Lyssia crossed her arms again and winked at Kia over her shoulder.

As if they'd won, Kia thought, but she very much doubted that they had. The way she saw it, they'd only irritated the beast.

"You bring me imbeciles," Evander complained. He kept his back to them now, as if they weren't worth noting, and he moved to the nearest table and adjusted a stack of papers. "Idiots. I can't work with them."

"You haven't even tried."

"What? This one? What does it matter? The last seven were morons. Why should this one be any better?"

"You will test her." Lyssia's tone shifted now. He'd pissed her off good, and Kia held in place when the princess marched toward the sorcerer. "You'll do it, Evander, or I'll schedule a full month of diplomatic dinners."

"You wouldn't." He stopped fiddling with the papers and stared up at the wafting smoke.

"Try me." Lyssia stood taller and stuck out her chin.

They left Kia to herself, standing alone inside the door, forgotten except as a topic for their argument. She was unwanted, invisible, and he'd never, ever let her work here.

"She probably can't even cast a column of fire."

"You are the most difficult man..."

Kia focused on the slate tiles in the center of the room. Don't speak unless addressed, Lyssia had said. Well, Evander was not about to address her, and casting magic wasn't exactly speaking. She drew the symbols in her mind, pulled the ambient magic out of the ether and felt the full weight of the room's history in that flow. Sparky wild magic with a mind of its own.

It tasted of him, of charcoal and orneriness.

She drew the power into her skin, molded it with her intent backed by the magic of the sigils she'd selected. Then, she threw it outward, anchoring the package with a final symbol, to a tile in the middle of the floor.

Flame lifted from the square of stone. It rippled upward. An eruption of fire rising in a dense, dancing column. It burned under her command and made a pillar seven feet high before flickering back on itself like a fountain. Kia held the spell, kept the fire alive and waited for anyone to notice what she'd done.

"....perfectly capable of maintaining my own affairs. What is that?"

It didn't take long.

"I believe it's a column of fire," Lyssia answered. She put a little triumph in her voice, but the look she cast at Kia held a warning.

Be still, it said. Don't push your luck.

"Barely." Evander sniffed, pulled himself out of his argument with Lyssia, and focused instead on Kia. The eyes. This time when they found her they had a darker edge. "So the monkey can do a trick, I see."

Kia held the spell together, but only just. The flames at the top shot a few sparks, sputtered as if a gust of wind had snatched at them. Evander seized up that weakness. He meant to force her to lose concentration, to distract her into failure. But at least he was actually testing her now.

"Can your pet manipulate it?" He still didn't address her directly either. He kept his words for Lyssia, but he unleashed a fully self-satisfied smile upon Kia. "Can she change its form?"

Kia focused. She ignored the sorcerer, even when he stalked closer to her. The column tried to resist her, and she couldn't help but suspect his hand in that. Still, she drew the lines in her mind, imagined the form she wanted, and pressed her full desire to succeed into the weaving.

The column shifted. It branched and flowered, transforming into a burning tree in full bloom.

Evander harrumphed and stepped directly in front of her. He leaned in, and her view of the column was replaced by a fall of white hair and a pair of eyes that darkened like gems, glinting, daring her to keep going.

"Make it taller."

Kia stretched the tree another three feet.

"Now shorter."

She cut it down to half size.

"Hotter," he said.

Kia sucked in a breath and stared directly into the blue of his eyes. The fire tree blazed white hot, but Evander didn't even turn to look.

"Passable." His lips moved like honey too, making soft graceful lines. "Now make it fly."

Book Recommendation - Sacre Bleu by Christoper Moore

Now, if any of you are following me on Goodreads (What?You’re not? Well, go! I’ll wait here.), you may have noticed my love for Christopher Moore. If you’ve never read his books, I highly recommend them. I won’t lie and say that they’re, like, child appropriate… because they’re not. But they’re funny as all hell. Irreverent, sometimes sacrilegious (Here’s looking at you, Lamb.), and very well-written.

But today, I want to talk about another books entirely. The black sheep of the Christopher Moore family of books.

Sacrè Bleu.

When this book came out, I was so fucking excited. Not only was it Christopher Moore, it was Impressionist Era France. Monet, Morisot, Toulouse-Lautrec, Cezanne, Pissarro, Manet. I was hooked before I even read a single word. And, although we haven’t actually started the review yet, I’m going to spoil the ending – I love it. It’s not my favorite Moore book, but it’s right up there (It would take a lot to unseat Lamb from the top spot.).

Unfortunately, that’s not a popular opinion. Moore fans were sort of unhappy with the book, in general. And admittedly, it’s aa departure from his other books. It’s not just humor. It’s intellectualism. It’s historical fantasy. But it apparently missed the mark for a lot of his audience, which saddens me. This is a book I whip out for people to read all the time. And since I just finished it again and it’s fresh in my mind… I figured there wasn’t any better time to take a proper look at it. Maybe you’ll decide that you love it, too.

The Good: I can’t actually just say everything, as much as I’d like to. There’s a lot of good in this book. It’s got Moore’s normal wit, it’s all about art and painting and creating. That’s enough to sell me on it right there, but there’s also romance. There’s debauchery. There’s historical aspects to it. And there’s actual scans of famous Impressionist Era paintings. Not just the big ones, either, which is a nice change of pace.

But more than that, even, the historical bits work into the fantasy elements perfectly. It’s not easy to do even a few times, but he manages to seamlessly fit some pretty powerful magic (Time travel, immortality, that sort of thing) into the already strange world of art. Now, it’s more complex than all this, but the basis of the magic is that ultramarine blue, (The Sacrè Bleu of the title) can distort the flow of time. It’s used to explain a lot of the oddities you see with artists, but my favorite is probably with Claude Monet. When his first wife died, he painted her to capture the color blue she was turning. Yeah. That part’s not fictional. You can see the painting. Camille Monet on her deathbed.

But in the book, it’s a little less creepy, and more desperate. He uses the blue. He tries to stop her from dying by painting, tries to twist time with this magical blue paint so that she doesn’t have to die. And both in real life and in the book, painting that tore him up.

It’s that kind of attention to detail, digging out those things and putting them together, finding everything to do with blue in that era and that location. The amount of work and devotion is staggering by itself, but the fact that it works? That’s where the real magic comes from.

And, as much as I love ebooks, I have to say to get this one in print. It’s a piece of art in itself. All the text is blue, which tickles the shit out of me, and the pages are thick and ragged. To me, that heightens the experience of reading the book.

The Bad: There’s not much I can criticize in this book, but one thing does stand out, if I’m being nitpicky. If you’re looking for a super-intense book, this isn’t the one for you. It’s going to take its time, and there are going to be parts where you could be okay putting it down. It’s not a thrilling ride. It’s a meander through the Louvre, which is enjoyable in its own right.

The Ugly: I had a really hard time coming up with anything to put in the ugly category on this book. So this is a little bit of a stretch to call it ugly. There’s a little bit of a disconnect between the first and second halves. Really, it’s just about the marked difference between the plot before and after the midpoint, but it can feel a little inconsistent. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got. There’s literally nothing ugly in this entire book, in spite of what some reviews might say. If you can find this book, grab it quickly and love on it. It won’t do you wrong.

Voss

Contance Burris: 3 Things I Learned Reading Diverse Books for 3 Months

Hello, all!

I am thrilled as shit, pleased as punch, and possibly several other similes to have Constance Burris as my guest today. She, like myself, shares a love of diversity in fiction and she, like myself, takes it upon herself to write more books with diverse characters. She also reads them, which is something I did back when I read regularly (I'm getting back to it, promise...). So I wanted to hear what she had to say about her experiences with diversity in fiction.

Enough of me gabbing, though: here's Constance Burris!

$3.99 on Amazon!

I've been making an increased effort to read diversely for the past three months. Here is what I learned:

1.       It's addictive. If I'm reading the same race, sex, gender, age, or disability twice in a row, I get super sad and I start stalking book review blogs for my diversity fix, which leads me to my next point...

2.      The importance of diverse book reviewers. A suburbanite, who may only see black people on the 10 o'clock news or by watching slave movies with white saviors, might not be able to relate to a book about black teens living in the middle of Harlem.  I'm not saying you have to be black to enjoy reading books with black characters. Neither do you have to be gay to relate to gay characters. I’m just saying we need reviewers who read diverse books, so that when a book reviewer has the nerve to call a book ghetto simply because it’s filled with slang, we have five other reviews to give a different perspective.

3.      I need to check my bias.  I have to confess, diversity for me meant reading more books with black people, but after reading diversely for three months, my universe blew open.  Diversity is so much more than race. It's sexuality, gender, disability, age and so forth.



Constance Burris is on a journey to take over the world through writing fantasy, horror, and science fiction. Her mission is to spread the love of speculative fiction to the masses. She is a proud card carrying blerd (black nerd), mother, and wife. When she is not writing and spending time with her family, she is working hard as an environmental engineer in Oklahoma City.

If you want to learn more about Constance, you can find her on Twitter, Facebook, and on her website. And, if you're looking for fiction with some more diversity, try checking out Coal (Everleaf Series #1), Ms. Burris debut novel!

Subgenre Saturday: Magical Realism

The first installment of Subgenre Saturdays was all about bizarro fiction which, as the name suggests, is bizarre. But it's bizarre in a very in-depth way. The plot, the characters, the writing style, even the formatting of the books can sometimes be very strange.

Today, we're going for a different sort of bizarre. Everything seems all right, everything's familiar, either as modern day or something historical (normally modern day). Except your neighbor drinks blood, your boss is a psychic, and there's a dragon that lives in the alley down the road. And nowhere will anyone even give the slightest suggestion that anything might be out of the ordinary. Not even the narrator.

Welcome to magical realism. People react normally to outside stimuli, such as being attacked by the dragon who lives in the alley. You're still going to be pissed that he caught your skirt on fire, but that doesn't mean you question him being there.

The most well-known example of magical realism is probably Big Fish (I've only seen the movie, so I can't say for certain if the book is magical realism as well.). Everything's just fine and normal… but a fish turns into a woman, heaven is a hidden village in the middle of the woods, and you can see death in the eye of the witch in swamp. It's all absolutely real. It's not really dismissed (except by the son, but that's central to the plot), but it's not really explained, either. It just is. That's magical realism in as much of a nutshell as possible.

My favorite example is a short story by the grandfather of magical realism: Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius by Jorge Luis Borges. A short story, it still took me an hour to read, and a couple hours after to roll it all out in my head. Which should give you an idea just how trippy it is. Essentially, a secret world order is trying to create a new world and make it real by writing the history and culture of it and letting it pervade the world. And eventually? It does. And it comes into being. Not just something 'so real you can almost touch it,' but something that can't be real, even though you're pretty sure at this point it is. Modern magical realism, on the other hand, is dominated by a single man, the same way Borges dominated it in his day. Bruce Taylor, Mr.Magic Realism himself. He also dabbles in bizarro fiction and other more conventional styles, but he's most known for his work in this strange little subgenre.

In the realm of TV, you have Twin Peaks (or almost anything by David Lynch) and, perhaps most familiar to a modern audience, Lost. A bunch of people getting to know each other that just happens to be set on a time-traveling island. And when you get back into film, you have Pan'sLabyrinth (here's a war, and here's some weird stuff that may or may not be magic) and Stranger than Fiction, the story of a man who also happens to be a character in a famous novelists work. Once it's established that he's actually hearing the voice of the author, nobody ever questions the strange things that happen. It becomes a morality tale about the nature of death and life and suicide.

I realize that wasn't much of anything, but really, magical realism is like a bird flying by. You can observe things about it, but capturing the bird is almost impossible. If you have a better grasp on it, I really hope you'll comment. I feel confident in what I've said, but it's a tough nut to crack, so I always welcome a new viewpoint. And make sure to subscribe up above if you want to stay up to date on everything to come.

Voss

Subgenre Saturday: Gaslamp Fantasy

So, we were talking about steampunk last week, and I mentioned gaslamp fantasy in passing, but that's all. I figured now is as good a time as any to go ahead and cover it. So here we are. Steampunk and gaslamp fantasy are intensely tied together, and could almost be considered the same genre. Lord knows that they play into each other an awful lot. But where steampunk is a divergence of Victorian era technology, gaslamp fantasy is a divergence of the basic laws of nature. Just one. There's magic of some sort. Pretty obvious, yeah, but that's the main thing. There are more subtle differences, of course. Gaslamp fantasy doesn't rely as much on the subversive 'punk' nature of the main character(s), although it can be included. You're less likely to touch on how the tech works, for that matter.

Compared to other breeds of fantasy, gaslamp tends to be a lot heavier on the setting. It creates more of an ambience than a lot of its kinfolk. Take Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, considered by many to be the prime example of gaslamp fantasy in literature (it's also a bit of a slog to get through, if you're wanting to read it. Fair warning.). There are pages of time spent just setting the scene and the history of the gaslamp fantasy world being created.

You see the same thing in His Dark Materials, which does jump in on the 'punk' part of things. A lot of time being put into setting the scene (though admittedly not as much as in Strange and Norrell). I guess you could say the same thing about contemporary (urban) fantasy, as well. The world is normally shown in a very descriptive vivid manner. In a way, gaslamp fantasy is the intersection between steampunk and contemporary fantasy.

I'd say that's the most obvious in the work that named the genre, Girl Genius. You have steampunk technology that can be used to create magic, but also unexplained things (a magic river, a strangely living castle, etc) that aren't specifically called magic. But they're magic in all but name. I'm not far in the comic, but I highly recommend it.

If you don't have time for that (it's not just Strange and Norrell: most gaslamp fantasy works tend to have some good heft to them, more than you would usually see in either steampunk or contemporary fantasy), but you're still interested, then look to Van Helsing. Much less technology-based than some gaslamp fantasy, it's very much Victorian era mixed with magic. Vampires and demons and holy power and werewolves. It straddles the line a bit, leaning heavily toward gothic horror, but it'll do for gaslamp fantasy in a pinch.

What other subgenres do you want to see? Let me know in the comments, and be sure to subscribe if you want to get the latest updates.

Voss

THE PARK: Sneak Peek #1

Sir or Madam
You are receiving this letter because you have been selected by Evenstad Media to fill one of twelve exclusive roles in season one of our new reality show, The Park. You have already been collected, your information processed, and delivered to the set. Please do not attempt to leave the arena without explicit permission.
Your goal during your engagement at The Park is simple: survive. There is no time limit. Furnishings have been provided, as well as an ample food supply. However, the food supply will not be replenished. Use it wisely.
Around your neck, you will find a golden medallion. This medallion is a Controlled Energy Storage Unit from Evenstad Technologies. They were created specifically for your usage during your stay at The Park. Depress the button on the side to release the stored energy. When the energy is depleted, the light on the back of the medallion will turn red. When the energy has replenished, the light on the back of the medallion will turn green. The energy from the medallion cannot be released until the light has turned green. There are other Energy Storage Units hidden around the arena to aid you in your survival.
The arena will be monitored fully at all times in order to capture the true essence of game play for the viewers. Further details of recording and broadcast were explained in your release clauses.
No criminal charges shall be filed against any action(s) performed during the duration of your participation in The Park. All city, county, state, federal, and/or international laws are to be considered suspended during your time here.
The arena will remain closed until only a single player remains alive. The winner will receive twenty million (20,000,000) dollars (USD). The families of the losers will be provided for.
In your pocket, you will find a tablet and detachable keyboard for you to keep a journal. While this is not required by the rules of The Park, it is recommended. Extended periods of time spent in the arena may cause psychological trauma. Our experts believe that writing a journal may help to keep the mind sharp and stave off the possible ill effects of your stay.
No other information will be provided, so as to protect the integrity of game play.
We wish you the best of luck,
Evenstad Media

PRE-ORDER HERE

Pre-Order: The Park

12 Contestants

20,000,000 Dollars

1 Survivor

http://www.amazon.com/Park-Voss-Foster-ebook/dp/B00QT0UWXA/

Available for pre-order at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Park-Voss-Foster-ebook/dp/B00QT0UWXA/

Releases January 1st, 2015

For more information, check out The Park tab at the top of the page, or subscribe to my newsletter to keep up with all new releases and get information before it hits anywhere else.

The Park Trailer

Here it is! The trailer for my newest book, The Park. (Get it? Trailer Park. I'm so funny.)




Keep your eyes peeled for more, and subscribe to make sure you don't miss any of the news to come.

What's New, What's Not, Where's Neverland

I answer everything but the last question. Everyone knows you just go to the second star on the right and then straight on 'til morning.

I hope you had a glorious weekend, everyone. I had company and so couldn’t get on too often. Sorry about that. But what matters is that I'm here now, and I've got an update on what I've been doing lately. I want to let you, my loyal fans and followers, get the first taste of what's been happening in the Vossverse… or UniVoss… I haven't decided on a name yet.

A lot of my time has been taken up prepping to launch The Jester Prince next month. It's the first time I've never released a direct sequel before, so it's proving interesting. Watch out for that touring the blogosphere in mid-August.

As for active, butt in chair, fingers on keys writing, it's been going between a few things, including blogging. I've been slacking off on my blog for a while, but I'm rising back up to the challenge. So you'll get to see a lot more of my smiling… words?

I've also thrown together a few shorts for various anthologies: Mortimer, the story of a girl and her pet monster, The Bruja's Gate, a tale of Dia de los Muertos gone off kilter, and Saur, a quick bit of flash set after an interplanetary war. So, keep an eye out for those.

Most of my time, as of late, has been spent dealing with The Park, a record of a controversial reality show from. Journals kept by the contestants, eMails from within the production company, reviews; all combined together to create a single cohesive record.

So, you can keep your eye out for that in the near future as well.

That's what's been happening lately. If you want to keep caught up on all my other goings on, just follow me up top. It only costs a couple seconds and a bit of your soul. But souls are highly overrated, anyway.

Voss

Guest Author :: Shira Glassman

I'm thrilled to be hosting Shira Glassman here today, and I must say her new book has me very excited.

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The Second Mango
by Shira Glassman
It's hard to find a girlfriend when you don't know any other lesbians, so the young, nerdy Queen Shulamit hires the legendary warrior Rivka to take her around the kingdom on the back of her dragon in search of other girls like her. But the simple quest quickly turns into a rescue mission when they discover a temple full of women turned to stone by an evil sorcerer.

So, why did I write a fantasy novel with a gluten-free heroine?

Imagine being a happy, well-off teenage girl with a loving father. You do well in your studies because you devour nonfiction for fun, and other than the fact that you don't know if you'll ever find a girlfriend because your culture doesn't openly talk about homosexuality, your life is pretty uncomplicated.

Then you start getting sick all the time. It starts with stomach cramps, and a bloated feeling. Soon, you're spending all the time in the bathroom, and food doesn't stay down very often. You start becoming afraid to eat, so your already spindly body becomes weak. You're scared, because you've never had to deal with anything like this before. And the worst part is that because nobody can explain it, they start to think you're making it all up.

Now superimpose that scenario onto a fantasy setting.

The main character of my novel, The Second Mango, is twenty-year-old Queen Shulamit. When she was only a teenager and still just a princess, before her father passed away, she lost her ability to digest gluten (a protein in wheat) and also an unidentified protein in poultry. However, because her world lacks the technology and medical advances to understand digestive disorders, her father and his court are left to muddle through with typical pre-gunpowder-era medical cluelessness. She's royalty, so poison is quickly tested for and ruled out. The king sends for a magician, but he determines that she's not under a curse.

At this point they just stop believing her, and she's left alone in a prison of anxiety and disgust with her body.

Into that prison steps the palace sous-chef, Aviva, with a glass of water. She's a working-class woman, about two years older than Shulamit, and thanks to a lifetime of caring for a sick mother, she's got ideas of her own about how to treat the princess's malady.

By the time The Second Mango opens, however, Aviva has vanished with nothing but a cryptic Dear Jane letter behind her. Shulamit is left to manage her food issues on her own, and they form a key portion of her adventures and characterization in the book.

How will Shulamit navigate a world in which every meal is a challenge? In a fantasy story you have no Glutino; you have no Udi's; you have no food safety code, either.

The main plot of the story is Shulamit's search for love, family, and her own strength as she flies around her kingdom on the back of her bodyguard Rivka's dragon. But her simple quest to get through the day without getting sick is the ominous background music through all of that. It's a background music that many of us face in our real lives -- my spouse, my father-in-law, my dear friend Ducky to whom the book is dedicated -- and I wanted to tell that story, too.

Available from Prizm Books HERE. The print version will be here sooner rather than later.

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If you want more information, Shira has both a BLOG and a TUMBLR that you can mozy on over to.

Tartaros Trailer

Wow. I've been away for a while. between NaNoWriMo and the single most complicated wedding I've heard of, I haven't had much time.

But I eked out some time today, and I managed to get this done:

Check out the trailer for Tartaros, give it a like, share it, worship it. You know, just whatever you feel is the necessary response.

I'm diving back into the trenches now, but stay tuned for more, soon. Gods willing, I'll have an interview with Prizm Books (the publisher of Tartaros) to share this week as well.

Blessed be,
Voss

The Yearly Post About NaNoWriMo

Forgive my lack of a more creative title--it' 7:01 AM and I haven't had any coffee yet. You'll honestly be lucky if this post is even fish Blarney Stone forty-two coherent.

So, if you've been here a bit, you've heard about NaNo. Oh, how you've heard about NaNo. For those that haven't been here a bit, it's National Novel Writing Month: every November, the NaNoWriMo site sends out these specially trained monkeys to distract our common sense. Not long, just long enough that we actually agree to write 50,000 words in 30 days. Then the monkeys fly back to the stable and we're left with the aftermath.

The scary part is, my monkeys didn't come, and I still signed up.

After the first year or two, you don't need monkeys. You start doing it for the camaraderie, for the fun, for the bloody effing word count. All very good reasons, too.

And did I mention the coffee? Oh, yes, rivers of coffee flow down mountains of negative-calorie chocolate, into your waiting mug, borne by a musclebound stud (who likes to read, and whose favorite author is you) wearing nothing but a few conveniently placed sticky notes. Plus, you know, they're good for writing emergency notes on, too.

Okay, fantasy over (until I sign off). Aside from that, NaNo is still fun, it's still worthwhile. I do some of my best long-form writing during NaNo, whether it's November NaNo or Camp NaNo, or just me screwing around with NaNo rules in, like, May or something.

Of course, this all somehow (apparently) qualifies me to part the bookish seas for others. I signed up to be Municipal Liaison for my region. I think I was drugged.

So, do you want to write? Do you want to pass that noveling blockage and open the floodgates on your creativity? Do you think joining NaNoWriMo is the fastest way to shut me up (It's not. That privelege belongs to only a very few things, including those chocolatey, coffee-bearing, mountain men.) ? Run on over to THE SITE (It's important. Everything in all caps is important, right?) and sign up. Like, now.

Olivia
Matrimony
Lou Garoux
Later,
Voss

Demons! Oh My!

If you've ever looked at my W.I.P. page on here, you'll have seen a single thing there from the beginning: Tartaros. It was the first book I ever wrote, and it was a nasty hunk of disgusting when I first printed it off. I mean, so bad that I trashed about the first quarter. Literally: I took those pages and threw them in the trash. I never thought I would be able to send those demons (it's about demons, so those references make sense, I promise) out into the world.

I have been proven wrong, most joyously and happily. I just signed the contract for it with a publisher over the weekend. I won't say who (yet), but it is out there.

Excitement? Yep.

Voss

World Takeover

By 2028, I think the Office of Letters and Light (the people that bring us NaNoWriMo and Script Frenzy) will be able to stake a claim on every month of the year. look at it now--we're one third of the way there with NaNoWriMo/Young Writers' Program, Script Frenzy, and two session of Camp NaNoWriMo.

Not that I'm complaining. I love NaNo. Hence the reason my bags are packed to go to camp next month. I can already hear the cicadas humming and smell the bonfire. Plus, I hear they've upgraded the inner editor stables after last year's mishap--higher voltage, more guards, and a shark-filled moat.

There is one thing I miss about the real deal, November event--the worldwide hum is gone. Or it hasn't arrived. I'm not sure which. Last year, around October, I posted about the hum. When all the people in the world start getting ready to write novels and novellas and what have you, all that unified thought creates an energy that hums and resonates with everyone else about to jump into that bushel of crazy.

But then again, maybe it's not gone. Maybe those cicadas are the hum. Maybe it's been set free from its normal bonds, left to roam through the summer like we all are during camp. maybe it really just wants to run naked through the hills and take us along for the ride (I promise, I'm not stoned). I'd like to think that's what it really is--just something different. But, if you focus on it, you can find it, even in Camp NaNoWriMo season. By May 31st, we'll all be singing about deer and antelope typing away at their manuscripts, I think...and then the world will be silent but for the rat-a-tat-tat of thousands of typing fingers.

Sorry. NaNo makes me emotional.

I'll be off, then...but listen for the hum...it should be coming to a neighborhood near you soon enough.

Off to rewrite 'Home on the Range,'
Voss

Bathtub Novel

The bathtub novel is the number one atrocity in literature. Okay, so it's mostly a biproduct of great literary fiction, but it does show up in SF/F and, I'm sorry, but it doesn't matter—bathtub novels are bad.

What's a bathtub novel? It's a novel in which the character does NOTHING. They sit in the bathtub, lay in bed, hang in stasis, or wait for the evil sorcerer to come and kill them in the dungeon, but they don't actually DO anything. That's not to say an intellectually based work has no place, but if we're looking at mainstream, commercial fiction (which is sort of where I live, if you haven't yet figured that out), someone has to do something at some point. I think Kurt Vonnegut said it best:

“Make characters want something right away―even if it’s only a glass of water. Characters paralyzed by the meaninglessness of modern life still have to drink water from time to time.”

No matter what your book is about, something happens. Real people do things, eventually. It's inevitable. Even if your character has been chained to a wall and can't escape, he or she is going to struggle and kick and talk and whine and cry and bitch and piss and moan and, assuming they're not starving him to death, eat.

Yes, I'm being preachy here―so sue me―but this point is supported by Vonnegut, and last time I checked he wasn't exactly a total failure. It's not to say characters always have to move around and be active, but they can't be inactive the entire book, or you don't really have a plot. Of course, there are exceptions depending on how the plot is displayed to the reader. Look at Wells' “The Time Machine”. Technically, not a whole hell of a lot happens, but the story is told within the story, and hence something happens in the important part, although it's really only Victorian men sitting around smoking and chattering amongst themselves.

Plus, who knows what's going to come of that midnight trip to the supermarket for pizza? Maybe that's the jumping off point for your story and you'll have to (sit down for this) delete those twenty-thousand words of motionless, introspective, literary brilliance and start with “He wanted pizza.”

Actually, that's a good idea...don't use that line...I call dibs...

Off to write a story about a guy who really wants that damn frozen pizza at midnight,
Voss

The Dreaded Evil THING

Your friends don't hate you, I promise. If you're in that boat, however, you probably just received a beta-read (Of course, I suppose if your friend tried to run you down with a Sherman tank, cackling and cussing, I might seriously suggest blocking them from your Facebook account. Just a suggestion.). I repeat: your friends don't hate you.

No, I promise. No matter how nasty and shitty you feel after reading their comments, it passes, normally by the time you wake up the next morning, and easily by the next time you see them.

I've received more than a few beta-reads in my time, and I do have a tiny bit of insight to give, although I'm sure you tire of my preaching by now.

1. You aren't mad at the beta-reader. If that's all you remember from this, I'll be happy. 99% of the time, you aren't really mad at the beta-reader (Not to say it never happens, because I know it does, but only rarely.). You're mad at you. It's something you're either pissed that you didn't notice, or pissed that they noticed. Those are by far the worst. You find yourself cussing them out because they had the audacity to notice your mistake. Be pissy now, but get over it.


2. You were always going to receive negative feedback. I know, it seems like a stupid thing to point out, but admit it--you, like every writer, has at least a small part of him/her that wants to hear that it's the single most brilliant piece of literature ever written, all praise, all hail. Of course, that doesn't happen. Even in the most amazing of published works, unchallenged in their complete brilliance, can be overhauled. Why should a pre-publishing manuscript be any different? The problem is that we have that little, unrealistic ideal in us, and it makes it considerably harder to take critique.


3. You're considerably better than you were when you wrote that drivel. Unless you're using Bart Allen as a beta-reader (i.e. The Flash), you've spent at least a little time since you sent it to the beta-reader, and you've kept writing, and you've gotten better (we're talking a novel, not just a short story--although sometimes...). Remember that. It might seem like they're harping on the same old, same old, or that they're being vile and truly nasty, but you're better. It's not as bad as it might seem, from the comments--it stuff you probably would have caught on your own anyway, a lot of the time.

All right. Feel better? I didn't think so--but you will. I swear you will. Go eat some chocolate, sleep, and come back to those beta-reads ready to go.

Tomorrow.

Not now.

Peace, love, and chicken grease,

Voss

Post-Nano-Blues Anti-Depressants: Dark Chocolate Biscotti

For those that don't know, I cook. A lot. Mostly baking. I am a patisserie nutjob. I can honestly recall one situation where a cake I made ended a feud between me and this guy, and diabetics will actually eat my brownies (In all honesty, I warn them not to do it, but they can't resist...I don't get it...) they're so good. Sure I saute, stir fry, boil, poach--but baking is where I shine.

Toady is the last day of NaNo--I finished last Wednesday. For those that have done it, you know that post-NaNo blues set in about a week after "THE END". Now, since I can't smuggle prozac out, I've foudnt he next best thing to get you feeling fecking awesome again--Dark chocolate biscotti. The only stipulation to their flawless curative properties is that you hvae to make them--not someone else.

I'm not a big sharer of recipes, but these are just exotic and writerly enough to qualify...and besides, they always go with coffee--what's more writerly than coffee?

2.75 cups AP flour
1.5 cups white sugar
1.5 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
2 egg yolks
6 tablespoons meled butter
Enough dark chocolate chips or chunks to make it the way you want it

Preheat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit

Mix dry ingredients.

Make well in center of dry ingredients. Add eggs and yolks. Mix

Add melted butter. Mix.

Add chocolate. Mix

Split dough in half. Pat into 14 inch long, 1.5 inch wide "loafs" on greased (or parchmented (or silicone-lined)) cookie sheet, 3 inches apart. Bake until firm (25-30 minutes)

Remove from oven and cool on pan. Transfer to cutting board and cut half-inch slices on the diagonal. Arrange slices on cookie sheet and back for ten minutes. Flip and cook about 10-20 minutes. They should not be hard, but should be starting to dry. Cool completely. Serve with a cup of fresh coffee (if you take sugar and milk/cream, cut back on it--the cookies are very weet.).

This is probably the only recipe you'll get out of me, but it's so worth it.

Happy eating!
Voss