Two Years Later...

(⊙＿⊙') Oh wow! I suppose I call it my "neglected blog" for a reason. But! I'm back! And I have news!

The Children of the Morning Star series is complete! Not only that, but books 1 & 2 have been revamped (ha ha) and the entire series is relaunching October 19, 2021! But what does that mean?

The easy answer? It's the same story with an improved reader experience, beautiful covers, improved blurbs on the back, bonus material, and the conclusion!

The long answer (which, come on, you know is my favorite answer) involves looking back at the history of the series. I wrote "The Arrival" in 2007. Well, technically, I started writing it decades before that, but I digress. I wrote "Confessions of the Second Born" immediately afterword and tinkered in patchworked segments on what would become "Last Born Daughter." In 2008, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. In 2010, I had a major health set back. In 2013, my medical team brought up disability and I began amending the schedules and duties of my job. I stopped tinkering with Book 3. In 2014, I could no longer work and had to leave a job that I loved. In 2015, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had a double mastectomy. I had right heart failure. I endured multiple surgeries and much pain throughout 2016. In 2019, I was diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome Type III. In 2019, I also became immuno-compromised and began living a life with masks and sanitizer, avoiding crowds, and steering clear of all sickness whenever possible. That should be fairly familiar to everyone by now. ;)

Amidst all the cancer stuff, I'd curl up on my bathroom floor and just cry. And since it was breast cancer and your chest tends to heave when you cry, it hurt. A Lot. I needed a win. I published "The Arrival" in 2017. As you can see, life didn't get easier. I published "Confessions" in 2018 to make my own happiness and began working on Book 3 again. In 2020, I published Book 3, "Last Born Daughter." And now, in 2021, I've completed the series with Book 4, "Eternal Light Descendant." Writing was (is) cathartic and a welcome exercise by my providers as stress relief and an escape from a painful body.

So, what prompted the rewrites and revisions? Honestly? Feedback, honest reviews, and my personal growth as an author. "The Arrival" read like a debut author searching for her voice. "Confessions" was better, but contained a bit of eye-glazing repetition. "Last Born Daughter" was amazing and helped me see the possibilities of putting in more effort (not that I was lazy about it before). I'd learned a lot and grown as a writer and reader, and I found my voice! I'd published the first two books as a hobby and I really wanted to go back and add my current voice, make them all "sound" the same and look the same. To fix the issues and redundancy. So I did. And it wasn't easy. Or stress-free.

"The Arrival" was heavily revised and rewritten to include flashbacks in line with the other 3 books. It is now called "The Arrival Reawakened" and the feedback has been great! Bonus content includes a deleted scene and a new character scene.

"Confessions of the Second Born" was heavily edited and cut down by thousands of words. It includes bonus material: Interviews with an Unwilling Vampire.

"Last Born Daughter" remains largely unchanged with only a few additions that tie in closer to the finale. It features an updated Bonus Chapter that previews the first part of the finale's first chapter.

"Eternal Light Descendant" is the brand new finale. The End. ^_^

The first three books are linked to the originals on GoodReads as Revised Editions and the final book is also there awaiting its first review! All books are available anywhere books are sold. The older versions are still out there, so I urge you to look for the revised editions for the best reading experience, but really, the story itself has not changed. Thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me! It's bittersweet to see "The End" in text at long last.

Serendipity and the Christmas Eve Panic Attack

It's Christmas afternoon, so . . . Merry Christmas!  I grew up under several religious influences--and even hated Christmas at one point in my life--so if you don't celebrate Christmas, please accept this as hope that you're having a nice day, and be forewarned that this is a personal, faith-based post.

I don't discuss my spirituality much.  I love to talk about theology, and will, often.  If you know me or have read my books, you know (or can tell) that the subject fascinates me.  I don't treat religion as mythology, but I'll often intertwine the two in discussion and in writing.

Even as a kid, I've always felt like God has me in His hands.  Religion has never mattered in that regard.  Whether I went to the Kingdom Hall, a church, or was casting spells under the full moon, I never wavered from that trust and prayed for God to carry me when I couldn't carry myself.  Well, maybe I can't say never.  I mean, we all waver at some point in our lives.  But, if I did, I found my way back. 

Yesterday, during a panic attack, I realized that I lost my way a bit somewhere.

A lot's been changing and stressing my life recently.  My anxiety used to be constant.  It nearly kept me housebound.  But acute panic attacks were rare.  Last year, a major stressor was relieved.  My anxiety was still there, but I finally had a baseline.  I'd have a few attacks on occasion or generalized anxiety, but nothing like the major panic attacks I've had in the past few weeks.

I don't really know what happens.  Yesterday, we went to church and I started feeling not so great when I saw how many people were there, all the people directing traffic, the fact that they needed people to direct traffic . . . and then my right leg stopped working as I tried to walk into the front vestibule and I stumbled.  No one tried to help.  I caught myself on my cane and got my balance.  I know it's beyond my control, but I felt stupid and was embarrassed.  So, still having some trouble, I forced myself to keep moving forward, relying on the cane more to make up for my leg.

Tim had gotten a bit ahead of me.  Just as I was about to catch up, I planted the cane and was in mid-step with the right leg (my bad MS leg) when a guy shouted a greeting from the right to a woman on the left and they approach each other right in the space I was about to enter and cut me off.  That's when I lost it.  I stumbled again because I had to stop suddenly and that really messes with me physically.  Neither even acknowledged I was there or that I was about to fall.  I again righted myself, forced myself to keep moving, and stepped around the woman and then . . . all I could see was Tim being swallowed by a crowd of people closing in and a room of windows shining like a beacon.

Next thing I know, I'm in that room, shedding my coat, shaking and on the verge of hysterical tears, holding my breath to keep a chest heaving sob from escaping.  Tim didn't know what was happening and it's really hard, in the moment, to explain something that's just happening.  But - I constantly need to evaluate myself and my situations for my doctors.  I'm used to evaluating things in the moment and being aware of what is happening to my body.  Somehow, while freaking out, I managed to explain, and as the tears spilled over, I sucked down a big breath and a kid came into the room.  I turned away and tucked my face down.  A woman walked in, saw me, and walked out.  The kid lingered.  I remember digging for my pills, pausing to remember which one to take, and taking one.  And then I remember standing there, willing myself to go into the sanctuary - into a room packed full of people and noise.  I couldn't.  I couldn't do it.

I tried.  A few times.  The first time, I knew the medicine was working yet and I barely made it into the hall.  I told Tim to go on in and I returned to the bright room, where I sat by the windows and stared up at the open blue sky and the naked the trees to ignore the parking lots full of cars below.  A bit later, I went into the sanctuary.  I wasn't entirely ok, so I kind of remember searching the room for Tim and his parents, and the ushers asking if I needed help finding a seat.  I shook my head in a daze and stared at the backs of all these heads.  Everyone looked the same.  A guy on stage was talking about finding God and I decided to find a seat.  I sat.  I got comfortable.  I thought, "I can do this."

Something happened.  Everyone was standing.  Everyone started recited something. I couldn't do it.  I don't know how, but I was in the hallway in a chair and then I was talking with an old friend from work.  And then I moved to the lobby - with large windows - and I stared at the carpet.

The men across from me were talking about another man's journey to finding the Holy Spirit.  It caught my attention and I listened to them for a bit.  I don't think I've ever heard guys talk so earnestly like that.  It got me thinking about my journey.  And that's how I realized that my relationship with God had changed - or, at least, how I viewed it. 

As far as the panic attack goes, the meds only took the edge off.  I had to take another one later, and then some additional meds when we got home to help with pain and muscle cramps.  Soon, Tim and his dad came out to check on me.  I tried to go in one more time, but couldn't, and then people began arriving for the next service so I had to move.  I went down a quiet hall, more people and more noise encroached, so I moved farther down until I was outside. 

All the trees were filled with crows.  They were cawing so loudly that their cries echoed off the buildings, off the air itself, and built into a cacophony that rose and fell like a discordant orchestra.  I recorded it.  It was beautiful.  I buttoned my coat and stood there, watching them - hundreds or thousands of these gorgeous black birds.  They brought me back to peace, to my center.  I smiled.  I was calm.  I was with the birds and the trees, the blue sky and cold winter air.  No people.  No cars.  No walls.  No panic.

For five minutes or so. 

I'm not one to stand outside in the cold.  But that was an amazing moment.  I felt like God had sent it to me.  I love crows.  They are smart and lovely.  They are heavy but glide effortlessly  They always capture my attention.  I want to take pictures of every one I see.  There's one on the photograph I used for the family tree in my series.

In the between time, however, while I was still in the lobby, staring at the carpet, I was pondering my relationship with God.  Even then, I knew He had me in His hands, and I repeated that in my head, when my pulse started to race again (and again . . . and again).  I thought about my books.  And that's where the shift had entered.  I use a Christian-based mythology in my Children of the Morning Star series, and my biggest worry has been how readers will react to it.  I didn't want to sound preachy or disrespectful.  I've had readers who love it, some who hate it, and others who simply see it as part of the story.

But there are other references in the book that only certain people will pick up.  I use the symbolism of circles, nature, and other influences of Wiccan or Gnostic origin, and ancient mythologies.  The circles in the forest, the grand silver maple, the colors, the numbers, the dates - there's so much to it that spirituality, in general, flows through the books. 

I've gotten so lost in working on them, marketing them, making connections, planning, etc, etc, etc, that I didn't realize I was worrying more and more about the Christian element turning people away.  So I took a moment yesterday for clarity.  Why did I see that as a bad thing?  Because I didn't want people thinking it was an in-your-face religious book.  It's not.  And I know why that bothers me.  Coming from such a diverse religious background, I'm not fond of that approach in Christianity.  But that shouldn't impact my relationship with God.  And I shouldn't be ashamed of the mythology I created for my fictional story or my relationship with God.  If it turns readers off, then it's the same as me not reading something I don't like.  It's that's simple.  Strip away everything but the issue and it comes down to the fact that reading is subjective.  Not everyone's going to love everything.

So I won't worry about that anymore.  Even most of the folks that weren't fond of my mythos still loved the story enough to finish the book.  I'm biased, I know:  it's a good story.  BUT - not everyone is going to like it.  Not everyone will finish it.  I know that for a fact.  And that's ok.  I respect my readers.  They get to choose if they like it or not.  Somehow I got caught up in my own issues, insecurities, and worries.  I've put so much of myself in that book, including my relationship with God, that releasing it opened up my vulnerabilities and I didn't realize it.  And then it began affecting not how I saw religion, but how I saw spirituality.  I have never been religious.  But I am very spiritual. 

So, I trust that God has me in His hands.  He carries me more these days than He has before.  He is with me.  And I'm not ashamed of any of that.  I love Him.  I am thankful to Him, for Him, for His love and His care.  For sending crows to make me smile. Perhaps it was serendipitous that it took a panic attack in church, on Christmas Eve, to open my eyes.  But I see it now.  He is my guiding force.

So, with that . . . Happy Birthday Lord and Merry Christmas to All.

Nightwing and the Library

 Ok, so the two have nothing to do with each other.  Maybe.  We'll see how this post goes.

DC Collectible Batman Black & White Nightwing by Jim Lee (image source:  comicbook.com)

When I'm stressed, overstimulated, or overwhelmed--good or bad--I stress shop.  The other night, I was "writing" and ended up falling madly in love with 2 Nightwing statues/figures.  Obviously, if I was falling madly in love with Nightwing, I wasn't writing.  ;)

Although, technically, I opened the browser to research materials used for men's summer suits and formal attire, so it started out book-related.  How I got to Nightwing, I have no idea.  He looks nice in a suit, though.

Dick Grayson in a suit.  (image source:  Book Riot)

And how did I fall madly in love with Nightwing anyway?  I was already madly in love with him.  Queue Janis.  "Oh.  My.  God."  I mean, have you seen him?  And then to find one based on the legendary Jim Lee's art??  (Confession:  I love LOVE love Jim Lee's art.  Give that man a sharpy and he'll draw something awesome on the spot, no errors.  Perfection.)

So . . . the Black and White Nightwing (#736/5000) arrived yesterday and is guarding my mantle (or enjoying being eye candy, who knows).

The other Nightwing figure?  Queue bloody nose and extreme Janis.  "OH.  MY. GAAAAAAWD!"  Enter Kotobukiya's Ikemen Series.  This lone picture doesn't do him justice.  Check out Kotobukiya's website for photos from every angle, and good luck finding one in stock anywhere.  Most sold out in during the 2017 pre-order window.

Kotobukiya's Ikemen Series, kicked off with nightwing.  Stock photo.

The Ikemen figure comes with three faces and a separate mask so you can have Nightwing in full costume or flashing those baby blues with or without his lips parted and holding his mask.  (I'm dying here Kotobukiya.)  He hasn't arrived yet.  I.  Can't.  Wait.

When I first saw it, I was captivated.  It's gorgeous.  He's beautiful.  Black and White Nightwing is edgy.  Ikemen Nightwing is sensual.  And the more I stared at him, the more I realized he kind of looks similar to how I see Eric in my head.  A bit younger, but the hair and eyes . . . wow.

(Eric's appearance is supposedly 23-ish, but that's an 1864-65 version of 23, so I see him in his late 20s/early 30s.  Hardened by life.  More mature.  Battle worn.  For the longest time, I thought he'd look like Brandon Heat - with blue eyes - in Gungrave before he "died."  With Brandon's original eye color, if you visualized auburn hair and removed the glasses, you'd have an idea of how I see Jonathan, too. See below.)

Brandon Heat in Gungrave.  (Episode and image source unknown.)

Image above modified to look like Eric (blue eyes, no bags). 

I digress.  Prior to my Nightwing objectification, I already had the good news I wrote about in my previous post, plus, that day, I'd gone to the library and spoken with the librarian and her staff.  She wanted to put my books into circulation (in process!) and she's a cataloguing librarian, so both books will be catalogued with the Library of Congress!  I'm also looking forward to speaking engagements, readings, and/or workshops starting around mid-April.

Sidebar:  My MS is a bit of an odd duck.  I mean, ALL MS is different for each person, but generally, MS is sensitive to heat, so most MS Warriors hate summer.  Heat rarely bothers my MS as long as I'm careful with it.  However, COLD is another story.  I don't hate winter, but it is downright mean to me.  I am super hypersensitive to cold and am suspected of having S.A.D., so usually by Christmas, I'm in bed for the rest of winter.  The colder and wetter it is, the worse I feel.  But, usually, I'm up and itching to get out around April, and slowly, but surely, I get out of bed and recuperate.

This is all very exciting.  Everything that's going on with my childhood dream, the upcoming Dark History and Horror Con, the library, the LOC, the Midwest Book Review, progress on book 3, the Dark Moon Press vampire anthology (release TBA), closing in on Con preparations and book freebie/goodies.  Plus, good looking medical scans, (mostly) good lab work, and a follow up consult upcoming, along with another round of regular check ups with all of my specialists.  Even good news can be overstimulating and stressful; hence, 2 Nightwings to drool over (plus a secret fun buddy for the kitchen that I haven't told Tim about yet).  Oh, and two books (The Peach Keeper and The Sugar Queen by Sarah Addison Allen - love her).  I think I'm just antsy.  Or my anxiety is acting up just enough to cause trouble.  Like Loki.  But anyway, stress shopping FTW.  ^_^   

(Well, just not for my wallet.)  Haha.

The Arrival Midwest Book Review, Dark History and Horror Convention, And MORE!

This is longer than I intended, so I'll provide bullet points:
*Midwest Book Review critiqued "The Arrival" - skip to the end to read its awesomeness
*My health sucks and it interferes with my life and writing goals (surgery is higher in the air than the Flying Graysons)
*I'll be at the Dark History, True Crime, and Horror Convention in November #DHHC2018
*In a TBA release, my short story "How to Make Lemonade" will appear in a vampire anthology by Dark Moon Press entitled "Tales of Blood and Shadows"
*I hope to have Confessions on Kindle by the end of the year
*I'm making progress on the 3rd "Children of the Morning Star" book, have a tentative release schedule, and new working title
*I may have some speaking engagements forthcoming at the library
*The Library of Congress is cataloging Confessions
*I am bad about using apostrophes, quotes, italics, and underlining consistently for titles (forgive me)
*I write long blogs
*The above picture is one of several potential covers for Confessions that I chose not to use
*Signed copies of both books are available locally at G-Mart in Downtown Champaign

OK- AND GO!

Shortly after Confessions of the Second Born went live, I sent copies of it and The Arrival to Midwest Book Review with hopes of not only being selected for review, but also of gaining (hopefully) positive industry critiques.  I will get to that...I mean, it is the best part of this post (so skip to the end if you want), but first, updates and such.

While waiting to hear from Midwest Book Review, I prepped for the local Dark History and Horror Convention in November (#DHHC2018), dealt with another batch of health issues that may or may not need surgery, tried to work on the 3rd book in the Children of the Morning Star series, and wrote and submitted a short story to Dark Moon Press for a vampire anthology.

Sound like a lot?  You have no idea.  I don't allow my health to define me, but I can't help how it affects me.  Sometimes my brain works and sometimes it's way off--like, not off in left field, but not even in the stadium.  Or the parking lot.  It's more like finding Waldo in a zoomed out satellite picture of Chicago.  Throw in new things and Waldo's buried.  Essentially, nothing about this is easy for a normal person on a good day, so it requires a lot of hard work, energy, and time from me (and I always mess something up and need to fix it - par for the course). 

Ooh!  TWO sports metaphors from the geek in ONE paragraph!  I'm getting better at this.

Ok, so, in many ways, writing and editing is cathartic, which I've written about in the past, and can be both a source of stress and a coping mechanism for stress.  If you've followed my blog, you already know the story: I wrote the first two books over a decade ago, it started as a dream when I was 13, and health interruptions thrust me into a rut of edits.  To any creative type, a project is rarely ever finished.  We continue to peck at endlessly until we set a 'done point' and stick to it.

At points where I really needed something good to happen, I called 'done' on both of them and set up a rough plan for the 3rd.  But the 3rd is tricky.  I started it shortly after the initial two.  It's a patchwork mess of disorganized scenes and notes.  At some point, I organized several patches into the first five chapters, with the rest making up a potential 4-7 additional chapters.  The 3rd already contains 188 extremely roughly written pages.  The working title is "Children of the Morning Star." (COMS)

Truth be told, once Confessions went live, I was a nervous wreck about finishing the series.  I hadn't creatively written anything seriously in 6 or 7 years.  Can I still do it?  Will my health and brain and everything else allow it?  I'm in constant pain and my hands and arms have started going numb.  Sometimes I can't even hold a book to read.  How do I expect to type a new book?

Enter Dark Moon Press's Tales of Blood and Shadows A Vampire Anthology.  For weeks, I wrote out ideas for a submission.  I started 3 stories and abandoned them.  Then I had a dream, a dream of a nightmare I'd had years ago that made me sick to my stomach.  So I wrote.  And a short story was born.  I submitted it and recently learned it will be used.  (Release TBA plus happy dance!)  It is titled How to Make Lemonade and tells the story of a suicidal woman who falls into the arms of a widowed vampire.  The question, however, is whether he sees her as something to save?  Or savor?

I liked it.  I liked it so much that I was far too nervous to submit it because I knew something had to be wrong with it.  I read it aloud to a few groups of people and asked a few friends to read it.  The groups were captivated to an uncomfortable level.  I've never felt such laser-pointed focus from others before.  But that's a good thing.  And the readers loved it.  I held onto it for a few weeks, still unsure, and then called it done.  My nerves were on fire.  Not only had I not written in years, but I tried an entirely new writing style.  Seems like a good gamble.  How to Make Lemonade is not your typical vampire story, but, if you've read either of my books, you already know that I don't write "typical" vampire stories.  Visit darkmoonpress.com to subscribe for updates and notifications, and, of course, like and follow me on Facebook.  (My current stress relief project is making cute mini-bookmarks to market this short story and anthology, and I'm toying with writing a novel based on the short.)

The positive feedback boosted my confidence.  I read the 188 pages I'd previously written for COMS.  EGAD!  The writing is terrible.  The story is fine.  The story and characters were more developed than I remembered.  I took time to think over the story elements and direction, jotted notes, and so forth, and finally began working on it.  I've only just finished cleaning up the first chapter, but I've already cut thousands of words from the first 20 pages.  It's put me into a hybrid writing/editing mode that works.  It's a bit bland, but the twisty prose and phrasing will come.  I can't get ahead of myself.  I've also developed a new working title, but that's a secret for now.

It's no secret that there is a lot going on in my life, always.  This is one, tiny facet, but it's a dream come true.  All my life, I wanted to be an author.  I wanted people to read my words.  I wanted my writing to make people think.  And it is!  Currently, Confessions is only out as a paperback.  A Kindle version is coming, and when it does, it will be free to download for the first several days.  I hope to have it ready by the end of the year.  I apologize to anyone who is waiting for it.  It is a project that requires more focus than I can give it right now to do it right, and I want to do it right.  My readers deserve that.

Additionally, my local library asked me about possible speaking engagements and possibly entering my books into circulation.  That is also very awesome!  It's hard for me to commit to anything (I mean, I've got help for the upcoming Con, but I am terrified of how I'm going to get through it, both physically and mentally given the challenges I face just getting through a day at home with my cats - lol), but I would love, LOVE to do this.  My therapist sees my books as a shining beacon in my treatment.  I love to talk about them, about the process, about the different meanings people take away - she says I light up.  I perk up.  I've spent so much time in their world that it's real to me.  And when I'm there, I don't hurt.  When I "come home," I pay for it dearly, but it's a price she thinks is worth it for the relief and happiness it provides.

And so, with everything going on, I'm closing in on my tentative time table for COMS.  3 months or so to write it.  3-6 to edit and polish.  Another 3 to start publication and proof, proof, proof.  Plus 3 months extra for delays with an estimated release by the end of 2019.  Health complications and stress loom over this time table, placing me in an unfortunate position of already being behind.  It's a self-imposed deadline that can obviously change, but I'm not going to drag this release out.  It's a different story now.  People want to know.  I have readers!  They want books to read!  I can't allow myself to fall into another ten year rut.  And trust me, that is not an option.  If I need to, I'll work with another author.  This story is my story, and it's been my story since I was a kid.  It deserves readers, and the readers deserve something compelling and good.

Alas!  That brings us to today!  Today I learned that the Library of Congress is cataloging Confessions, and I found "The Arrival" in the October issue of Midwest Book Review's Small Press Bookwatch!  And with an awesome critique!  Many, MANY thanks to the reviewer(s) at Midwest Book Review.  Thank you so much for accepting my submission and for enjoying it.  I am incredibly happy right now and that's something my aching body or Wheres's Waldo brain can't take from me.  It follows:

"The first volume in Kastie Pavlik's 'Children of the Morning Star' vampiric fantasy series, "The Arrival" reveals an author with a genuine flair for originality and character driven narrative storytelling. A deftly crafted and unfailingly compelling read from beginning to end, "The Arrival" is unreservedly recommended and certain to be an immediate and enduringly popular addition to community library Fantasy Fiction collections. It should be noted for the personal reading lists of dedicated vampire fiction fans that "The Arrival" is also available in a digital book format (Kindle, $1.99)."  - Midwest Book Review

Much love to everyone who is on this journey with me.  It's a Hell of a ride.  I hope you're enjoying it.

(And don't forget that copies of both books are available locally at G-Mart!  If you purchase a signed copy, message my author page and I'll arrange to customize the autograph and give you extra goodies!)