So much has happened since I last updated here. Multiple large projects are on pause. I’m starting the grind to find a day job to support myself. The court system has proven that, yet again, it sides with abusers when they’re cishet white men who are charming.
It’s been a lot.
But it hasn’t all been in vain, either. Circa 2006 was when I started my first novel, and 2014 was when I shelved it due to pregnancy and stress and a terrible living situation making it less of a priority. It was finished, or so I thought. I was working with an editor on it. But I was pregnant and tired. So it sat there in my Google Drive, languishing, until 2019. My mom relapsed while I was living with her in 2018, with a young toddler who did not need to be exposed to any of that. The fallout was massive. My family turned their backs on me. Friends were unable to do more than give us temporary shelter. It was a nightmare scenario. And it didn’t end when we got away later either. I wound up isolated with my abusive ex-husband, trapped in a marriage that was suffocating me, stranded out in the middle of nowhere, with no job prospects, no way out.
I had that book though. And it quickly became apparent that it was the only thing I had that might get me out.
A few paragraphs in and I realized I owed that former editor a massive apology. The manuscript was a mess. The idea was solid, but the execution? It needed a massive overhaul, to put it lightly. So it got shelved again.
What is finally titled Demon’s Gambit wasn’t my only idea. I had others that had spiraled out from those initial building blocks that had formed the cornerstone of it. Necromancy. Chosen ones. Literal end of the world scenarios. How many things could I build with just a handful of these tropes?
My second book was the original Neophyte of Decimus. Solid bones, solid premise, terrible execution. Same with the sequel (that will be recycled later in that particular series.)
Savior of the Damned’s first draft was done in a month, in August of 2021. It obviously needed something;at 29k words it needed so much more. So I added another POV. And I kept plugging away.
I was never able to ever hire any sort of editor. I was still trapped in my dead marriage, waiting for my ex to die so I could finally be free of him. There was no way out, not as a disabled trans man with a kid. Not without going back to the family that had not only disowned me, but were the people I was fleeing to begin with when I moved in with him. But I did my best. I had wonderful friends willing to pitch in, I had found critique partners, I was building community finally.
Savior of the Damned came out October 31st 2023. It changed everything. For one thing, my family was surprised I managed to do what I had always wanted. My ex was surprised too, even appearing angry when he confronted me about it. He was surprised my work was “actually good.”
Savior wasn’t the first book I released. It was actually the third. Not that he had noticed. He had read both my previous ones, of course, but had dismissed them. Savior changed things.
Fast forward through leaving him, through the paralyzing certainty that my ex was going to make me another statistic after I left, through the tsunami caused by my being forced to return home, I survived. I now have 7 books under my belt, other projects (that I’m not quite ready to announce) and a promising trajectory.
Unfortunately, the build up of massive amounts of stress has been no friend to me. My hair is falling out. I’m pretty sure that I have fibro by this point because of all of it. Everything hurts, all my mental health providers (and the rest of my medical team for that matter) can advise me is to hold on. It’s been so much. But I’m still here. I’ve made it through everything else.
That’s why I’ve been silent. Trust me, this is the tl;dr version of events. This isn’t covering the turmoil caused by my coming out as a trans man, navigating hunger and broken social systems, dealing with financial abuse from someone who attempted to starve his own kid out of my arms, and was able to convince family court the things he did to me were both made up and my fault. It’s been a lot. It makes it hard to put words to document a lot. Days spent spiraling. Struggling with my eating disorder that wasn’t caused by unfair beauty standards but poverty and racism and abuse, there are a lot of days the words just won’t come.
But I have Savior to point to. Savior as the catalyst for the change I needed to make to break free.
People need community. Humans are social creatures. That’s not by accident, that’s by design. It’s how we’ve made it so far as a species. I might have lacked a supportive, in person community (all but two took his side, despite having seen and dealt with what he did to me over the course of 19 years and some change) but he never monitored my internet usage. It was the community I built online that helped save me.
But I have Savior, and I have the rest of The Guardians of Gaia. And soon I’ll have work. And I just know that, if I can keep going, like I have been, I’ll come out on the other side. It won’t be unscathed; you can’t go through what I have and stay as shiny as a new penny, but I’ll be here. And I’m going to keep writing. It might not be at the pace I’m used to; back during the early 2020s when I was doing 2k words a day feels like a fever dream right now.
I actually have some pretty exciting news coming up regarding writing so stay tuned. And I’ll try to not be such a stranger. Happy reading and pleasant dreams.
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