From a storm watch to a typhoon warning: March 2023 Newsletter

 

Well, we've moved from a watch to a warning...

In a recent Music Monday post, I mentioned the last verse of "Hoist the Colors" by Hans Zimmer for Pirates of the Caribbean:

The bell has been raised
From it's watery grave...
Do you hear it's sepulchral tone?
We call to all
Pay heed the squall
And turn your sail toward home!

Storm, the highly anticipated sequel to Rift, is due out this May. Even as I type that I can hardly believe it - this seems to have come on so fast, not unlike bad weather here in this part of the US. So, sound the sirens!  PAY HEED THE SQUALL! Em and company return to Arcstone and the fated Maelstrom Instance with a bit of help from a pirate...

In the meantime, check out this exclusive excerpt from Storm. The password, of course, is Valentin.

Watch this space for pre-order information!

Music Monday: That's all I know

I heard Kelly Clarkson provide the harmonies for this song when she had P!nk on her show recently, and I can't get it out of my head. So here's almost ten minutes of goodness with these two of my favorite female artists. Great for an overcast and gloomy Monday, right? Captions on the video, too!

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Of Steam and Punks and Free Smells: February 2023 Newsletter

[If you're wondering what on earth The Lettuce is doing, this is the newsletter that goes out to folks on my mailing list about once a month, maybe more. It's going to become a regular thing around here, as I learn how to be a real author that does real marketing.]

First of all, the Atlanta Steampunk Expo was amazing. I clearly had the best smelling signing table ever, as I was next to The Dragon's Hoard soaps. My two and a half cosplays went well, which was amazing - considering I'm an old dog learning a new trick. The Lucy Boyd needs more work, but Steampunk Kaylee was a hit.

The goggles kept the hat from popping off the top of my giant head.

Now then, I'm taking this crazy on the road again in March, this time to a signing event at one of my very favorite places in SC - 742 North in Rock Hill. I've been invited to the Springtime Blooms event on March 4th. These folks are really great, and I always come away with renewed purpose as an author and loads of new author friends! Come see me! Event information from 742 North's Facebook page:

Springtime Blooms, 742 North Anderson Road, Rock Hill, SC.

As always, if you want signed copies of my books and can't make it to one of the events, contact me and let's talk about how I can make that happen. If you have a copy of one of my books, I'd love it if you'd leave me a review - that's the best way for others to find my books and for me to know how my writing is being received! 

Cheers, y'all!

Music Monday: Trouble Town

This song is the theme song for the fantastic British crime drama, "Happy Valley," and it is basically an anthem of the grittier side of the north of England. I'm anxiously awaiting season three to be released over here - it's a masterclass in plotting out a mystery/police procedural.

Trouble Townby Jake Bugg
Stuck in speed bump cityWhere the only thing that's prettyIs the thought of getting out
There's a tower block overheadAll you've got's your benefitsAnd you're barely scraping by
In this trouble townTroubles are foundIn this trouble townWords do get 'round
Kick the bottom make troubles fleeSmoke until our eyes would bleedSparkle pop the seed
Hear the sirens down the streetThe kids get light on their feetOr they'll be in the back seat
In this trouble townTroubles are found
Sitting on the pavementBoy you've missed your paymentAnd they're gonna find you soon
If there's a beating in the rainIf there's a little bit of pain, manYou're the one it happens to
If I talk of getting outI only hear the laughter loudIt's gotten ugly at home
Somewhere there's a secret roadTo take me far away I knowBut til then I am hollow
In this trouble townTroubles are foundIn this trouble townFools are found
Sitting on the pavementBoy you've missed your paymentAnd they're gonna find you soon
If there's a beating in the streetIf there's a feeling of defeatYou're the one it happens to
Stuck in speed bump cityWhere the only thing that's prettyIs the thought of getting out

Music Monday: Of Cellos and Rooftops, All Painted Black

There isn't much I can say about this piece of music other than I have never, ever really been a fan of the Rolling Stones, and yet this version of Paint it Black has moved me to actual words on a page and for that, I am grateful. Also, Wednesday is visually stunning, and the scene in the video below is no exception. But the music...good gracious. Enjoy.

Music Monday: It's me...hi.

 Yeah, I know, I'm always late for everything. Maybe I'm the problem...it's me?

Sorry. Seriously though, I periodically stumble across songs by Taylor Swift that I can feel in my soul, and this is one of them. It also speaks to some of the characters in my books who haven't been exactly anti-heroes but come very close. Gin will wreck her own life, again and again, to make sure everyone else is all right - definitely the problem. Tairn doesn't need anyone else...until she does. She will stare directly at Orana's sun but never into the mirror.

Also, y'all...the lyrics are AMAZING, even though they sometimes aren't as musical as some might prefer. Anyone that can use narcissistic altruism in a pop song gets my vote. The video has captions, so no lyrics this week.

Music Monday: In Which I Almost Crashed my Car...

 Not really.

I was driving along listening to my latest playlist and I'd added this version of Hoist the Colours because it represents one of the amazing parts of social media - several creators came together who aren't physically together to make this cover. But it was the last line that hit me and screamed WRITE MY STORY that nearly made me drive off the road. 

Y'all, I don't write pirates well, just ask poor Lucian the Black (when you get the sequel to Rift in May). But this needs to be part of a story (and NOT another Pirates of the Caribbean): 

"The bell has been raised from its watery grave/ Do you hear its sepulchral tone?/ A Call to all, pay heed to the squall/ And turn your sail towards home!"

Enjoy. No lyrics below this time because they are on the video. 

Upcoming Appearances, 2023

At 742 North, Rock Hill, Fall 2022

So I sat down the other day and looked at my travel calendar for this year. Whew! There is a lot coming up, and I can't wait to get started.

(I have submitted applications to DragonCon and will submit to Multiverse, both in Atlanta, and if I'm successful this time, y'all will be the first to hear about it!)

First is the Atlanta Steampunk Expo, where I will be signing copies of Strid (and my other books, too), February 10-12 at the Atlanta Marriott Northeast/Emory Area. My table will be in the Decatur Exchange - come see me!

After that, I will be running up the road to hang out with one of my favorite groups of authors at 742 North's Springtime Blooms event from 10-6 on March 4th. I will have all of my books there and would love to see you if you happen to be in the Rock Hill, SC, area. 

April and May are the Georgia Renaissance Festival, and I'm hoping to get together a signing event one weekend there now that I don't really have a dog that can work with the Hounds. I'm sure that I will be traveling down there with my vaudeville partner, Anne, even if I am without hound...you can take the girl out of the rennies, but you can't take the Rennie out of the...no, that sounded better in my head. Never mind. Moving on.

April is also Camp Nanowrimo, and while that isn't an appearance, it's something that I love dearly. The second round will be in July, so if you don't hear from me during those two months, I'm likely writing.

The second book in the World of Arcstone series, Storm, is set to launch on the 15th of May, just in time to take it to the next event on the list (if I get space in Author's Alley).

The first weekend in June is ConCarolinas at the Hilton Charlotte University Place. I really consider this my home faire, and I've been an author guest there since 2020. I will definitely be an author guest and on panels, and I'm hoping for space in the juried Author's Alley to sell/sign copies of my books. The Kaylee cosplay will be returning, and I'm thinking maybe something Stargate or Star Trek related? We'll see.

July sees me heading up the road to Winston-Salem, NC, for Congregate 9. I had to bow out of Congregate 8 last year, and I'm feeling so lucky and thankful that they are having me back this year. I will be in Author Alley there at the Downtown Marriott.

August will be Back to the DayJob™️ for the most part. September 8-9, I will be setting up at the Upstate Renaissance Faire in Greer, SC, and hoping that we do NOT have weather like last year. I'm excited to decorate my tent and figure out which piece of my Rennie garb will work best for sitting in a chair and signing books. That faire is fantastic, complete with a dragon. Come visit if you're nearby!

September is also my professional development month - and I will return to the Broadleaf Writer's Association annual conference in Decatur, GA. This event always recharges my batteries and prepares me to tackle my next WIP.

November is a busy month, as I'm tentatively planning the launch of the next book in the Guardians of Orana series, Hero. It will also bring another chance to participate in the Time Traveling Authors event at the Carolina Renaissance Festival. More on that event later in the year, and next year I've already been invited to the Dahlonega Literary Festival, which I believe is in March of 2024.

I hope to see you at one or more of these events, so I can ask, "what kind of books do you like to read?" 

Music Monday: We never failed to fail, it was the easiest thing to do...

This past week, the world lost an amazing musician. Rooted in the hippie counter-culture of the 1960s and 70s, David Crosby wasn't just a member of the amazingly talented group Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, but he was an example of sticking to your principles. So many of those songs were the soundtrack of my early uni days when I worked at a summer camp in Georgia, and they still bring a smile when I hear them on the radio.

Southern Cross

Crosby, Stills, and Nash

[Verse 1]

Got out of town on a boat, going to Southern islands

Sailing a reach before a following sea

She was making for the trades on the outside

And the downhill run to Papeete

Off the wind on this heading lie, the Marquesas

We got eighty feet of the waterline

Nicely making way

In a noisy bar in Avalon, I tried to call you

But on a midnight watch I realized

Why twice you ran away

[Pre-Chorus]

(I think about)

Think about how many times I have fallen

Spirits are using me, larger voices calling

What heaven brought you and me

Cannot be forgotten (I've been around the world)

[Chorus]

I have been around the world (Looking)

Looking for that woman-girl

(And I know she knows)

Who knows love can endure

And you know it will

[Verse 2]

When you see the Southern Cross for the first time

You understand now why you came this way

'Cause the truth you might be running from is so small

But it's as big as the promise

The promise of a coming day

So I'm sailing for tomorrow, my dreams are a-dying

And my love is an anchor tied to you

Tied with a silver chain

I have my ship

And all her flags are a-flying

She is all that I have left

And music is her name

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Helplessly Hoping

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Emily I’m Sorry

​boygenius

[Pre-Chorus]

(I think about)

Think about how many times I have fallen

Spirits are using me, larger voices calling

What heaven brought you and me

Cannot be forgotten (I've been around the world)

[Chorus]

I have been around the world (Looking)

Looking for that woman-girl

Who knows love can endure

And you know it will

And you know it will

(Yes)

[Verse 3]

So we cheated and we lied and we tested

And we never failed to fail

It was the easiest thing to do

You will survive being bested

Somebody fine

Will come along, make me forget about loving you

In the Southern Cross

Well, that was unexpected...

Truer words were never spoken...or written...on an image...nevermind.

Lots of things have happened, and even more...haven't. There's no Music Monday today, mainly because I've been sick off and on throughout the holidays. Ho, Ho, NO. Crappy New Year. That sort of thing. But also...I'm stuck in my writing, so I haven't been able to come up with anything that really inspires me.

I'm currently revising Storm, the second in the World of Arcstone series. While manning my table at the Carolina Renaissance Festival's Time Traveling Authors event, a young man approached - one I recognized from the event in 2021. He had purchased Rift at the time and had some questions. This is amazing and terrifying as an author, but I went with it. 

I had announced elsewhere that I would publish Storm in the late spring of 2023. He was glad to hear that and made sure that I knew I needed to clear up why things happened the way they did at the end of Rift. (HEY! I didn't spoil it! Go me.) This statement kick-started my revisions because now there was a person out there that wanted to know what happened next...and it wasn't someone that I know. 

And once again, they stalled out. It isn't that I don't love Em and Lex or that I'm bored of Arcstone. Quite the opposite - if this was my game world, I'd never leave. (Norrath and Azeroth, just pretend you didn't hear that, okay?) I'm just...having trouble. So I decided it would be a good idea to re-read Rift, and maybe Em, Lex, and the others would start talking to me again. Even better - I will have my voice assistant read it!

Y'all. I am not a romance writer. Ugh. So cringey! But I've powered through, and I've found the source of the problem...I left some things untied at the end of Rift on purpose, but now I haven't even reached for those strings, let alone tied them up in Storm. So...here I am, starting again with revision.

How long till March?

See You Next Year

The Intrepid Author in the Wild, CRF Time Traveling Authors 2022

So, it's a Dad Joke. See you next year - which is tomorrow. But today I wanted to talk about why that is all I will say, going forward. I hope that this may reach others with the same anxiety related unrest when this time rolls around every year.

I like to pretend that I like New Year's Eve. I mean, what's not to like? Excuse to party. Excuse to be very loud. Excuse to snog. What's not to like? 

Anderson Cooper and Andy Cohen on CNN. Yes please. Jool Holland's Hootenanny. The top of my bucket list, Hogmany in Edinburgh. But those aren't all the things floating like Times Square confetti in my mind.

In all honesty, I really hate New Years Eve/Day.

I have a lot of trouble with change. I'm sure I have told the story already that my mother remembered about me (because she remembered everything about me) of how I would burst into tears at the end of TV shows and be done with my tears by the start of the next show. I didn't like the ending. I didn't like the change over to a new show.

Make that 30 minute sit-com into the end of 365 whole days and it is almost more than I can take. In looking back at my memories of past posts on social media, it isn't a coincidence how many times I've gotten sick on or just before New Year's Eve. Throw in two full years of uncertainty that came along with the pandemic and my anxiety has just moved in and started picking curtains.

But I'm aware of it, and I'm working on it...and, predictably I have a slight sore throat and even more slight fever today. Because of course I do.

So, if you have this same issue that I do...if you are more nervous than excited about the upcoming year...iI you'd rather the ball get stuck on it's way down just because you aren't sure you can handle what will happen when it hits the bottom, I'm here to remind you that it always has. It always will, and we are still here. Rather than looking ahead with resolutions that we all know will not stand, look back at 2022. Think about everything that happened, good and bad. Celebrate the good things and make a promise to do better with the bad things when they rear their heads...because you know they will. If you have to make a resolution, make one to be a better friend to yourself.

See you next year.

Welcome to when The Lettuce becomes the Hiatus...

I always take December off...or try, anyway. Nanowrimo has left me with NOT MUCH IN THE TANK, and while I would love to say I don't do anything toward my writing career, but I do. I will. 

For now, though, the Lettuce is going on hiatus at least...and I'd like to invite you to join me by my virtual fireplace, listening to Christmas music (NO WHAM, ONLY INSTRUMENTAL) and trying desperately to let my mind take a break for a bit.

Yeah, I don't think it will happen either - who scheduled the world cup during my winter holidays?

Anyway...Thanks for reading all my rambling. I hope you've picked up a new song or artist, and if I've seen you at one of my signing events, thanks for coming out. See you in the new year, y'all.

Music Monday: A Bit of Heartbreak, after a Win

 First things first, I finished Nanowrimo this weekend. The lucky thing about having it in November is that there is a holiday in there that sees me off work and full of cheese, wandering about and asking what day it is...and with plenty of time to write. The manuscript isn't done but I can slow my pace a bit.

Now, that said, the story is turning out to be a lot darker than I'd originally thought, and with that darkness comes me seeking out writing inspiration that matches. This is one of the most emotionally evocative songs I know and when it came up in my playlist I had to take a moment and just live in the feelings. The first time I heard it I think I gasped out loud in the third act. I would say enjoy, but...sit with it for a bit.

The Highwaymanby Loreena McKennitt
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty treesThe moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon the cloudy seasThe road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moonA highwayman came ridingRiding, ridingA highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door
He'd a french cocked hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chinA coat of glaring velvet, and breeches of brown doe skinThey fitted with never a wrinkle, his boots were up to the thighAnd he rode with a chill and a twinkleHis pistol butts a twinkleHis rapier hilt a twinkle, under the jeweled sky
And over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark of nightAnd he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barredHe whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting thereBut the landlord's black-eyed daughterBess, the landlord's daughterPlaiting a long dark red love-knot into her long black hair
One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize tonightBut I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning lightYet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the dayThen look for me by the moonlightWatch for me by the moonlightI'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way
He rose upright in the stirrups, he scarce could reach her handShe loosened her hair in the casement, her face burnt like a brandAs the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breastAnd he kissed its waves in the moonlightOh, sweet waves in the moonlight!Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west
He did not come at the dawning, he did not come at noonAnd out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moonWhen the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moonA red-coat troop came marchingMarching, marchingKing George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale insteadBut they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bedTwo of them knelt at the casement, with muskets at their sideThere was death at every windowHell at one dark windowFor Bess could see, through the casementThe road that he would ride
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jestAnd they bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breastNow keep good watch and they kissed herShe heard the dead man say"Look for me by the moonlightWatch for me by the moonlightI'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way"
She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held goodShe writhed her hands 'til her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!They stretched and strained in the darkness and the hours crawled on by like years!'Til, now, on the stroke of midnightCold, on the stroke of midnightThe tip of one finger touched it!The trigger at least was hers
Tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clearTlot-tlot, in the distance, were they deaf that they did not hear?Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hillThe highwayman came ridingRiding, ridingThe red-coats looked to their primingShe stood up straight and still
Tlot in the frosty silence, tlot, in the echoing nightNearer he came and nearer, her face was like a lightHer eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breathHer finger moved in the moonlightHer musket shot her in the moonlightShattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him with her death
He turned, he spurred to the west, he did not know she stoodBowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red bloodNot 'til the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hearHow Bess, the landlord's daughterThe landlord's black-eyed daughterWatched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there
And back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the skyWith a white rope smoking behind him and his rapier brandished highBlood-red were the spurs inthe golden moon, wine-red was his velvet coatWhen they shot him down on the highwayDown like a dog on the highwayAnd he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat
Still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the treesWhen the moon is a ghostly galleon, tossed upon the cloudy seasWhen the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moonThe highwayman comes ridingRiding, ridingThe highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door

Music Monday: A little bit of Tennyson

One of my favorite painters is Waterhouse, and one of my favorites of his paintings is The Lady of Shalott, a lovely poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, that tells the tale of a woman cursed to live in a tower who can only view the world through a mirror. She weaves what she sees and is dreadfully bored but knows that if she takes her gaze from the mirror something awful will happen. It's just beautiful and this video has lyrics in it, so win-win!

10 days left in this Nano and this song is perfect for talking me out of my real life and letting my creative mind go roaming around...no mirror required. Enjoy.

Music Monday: Terribly and Beautifully Tired

I spent the weekend back at the Carolina Renaissance Fair as one of the Time Traveling Authors and y'all, I am exhausted...but in that giddy, happy kind of way that needs a cozy bed and some cider and no responsibilities for about a week so I can just reflect. Ah well, I got the cider and the bed, two out of three? 

Anyway, I was surrounded (quite literally) all weekend by fantastic music in the spot they set up for us. So for today's Music Monday, I want to share some out-of-the-box music that I ran across on TikTok that is a happy fusion of two things I love: bagpipes and Punjabi bhangra music. This mashup version of Toss the Feathers - an Irish song - is guaranteed to get you moving. Enjoy - somewhere that you can turn the volume up. (No lyrics this week because are on the video!)