Who’s Your Fledgling Horror Author?

So this has been a really hectic day. One of those days that get you frazzled beyond repair, EARLY! But that is beside the point. At present I find myself needing to get back to my center, relaxed and in the mood for the awesome creativity that is going to happen today.

Because(!) today is the day I finish writing the first draft of Desolation.

I am not sure about my fellow writers, but I find the time between the first draft and the second draft, things change considerably. Sometimes to the point that the story no longer resembles what was written in the first draft. Is this a problem everyone faces, or is it that I am writing the story before it is completely realized?

Whatever the reason, later is better than never I guess. Desolation has gone from a typical zombie novel to something much deeper. For this I am very grateful. But I am skeptical that I am writing horror well enough. This is the first time I have written horror, and I don’t think my mind works the same way some of the masters’ do. Of course I don’t know any of the masters, but I can only assume they have black altars set up in their writing space, not a sunny, cheerful atmosphere like mine is. Long story short, I don’t feel like I can write horror, but I am giving it a try.

I will do what I always do, I am setting up a critique group for Desolation and we will go over it once the second draft is done. We will get it in ship shape (what does that even mean?) and then it will be off to publishers and agents. I am not spending a lot of time on them though, because I want to get this book out of my hands and into my reader’s hands as fast as possible, and constant rejections won’t get that done.

So here we go. Plunging into my last 3 hours of my day job, and then into my dream job to finish one hell of a tale for all of you!

(Note: If you are a friend or fan of mine on facebook and are interested in critiquing Desolation, let me know by message. Wanna know more about Desolation? Visit here.)


The Valkyrie

I feel the ripple of muscle
the salty-sweet taste of lips upon mine
I take my lover there in battle; kill my lover & raise him up to the arms of my all seeing father

to him I offer mead, to him I offer my body
he will go on forever, until the end of time
then he will rise up, conquer our foes and purge that damned wolf of the moon he glutinously consumes.

fingers slipping between my breasts, between my legs
would he take me? conquering me as he had the battlefield?
or would there be hesitation, chasteness
would he bed me as a bride, or as a spoil of victory?

Riding high in clouds above battle, would I know immediately who was worthy, or would I ponder which was the right one to take with me as a lover to dine with the gods? Even when I laid lips to the deathly chosen, would I have second thoughts? Would I be able to see into their past so I could make a judgement based on their worth? Or would I choose them soley based on their actions in battle?

Would Odin be in my ear, whispering sweet words of death, sending chills down my back like a lovers caress? Would I long for the warriors, ache for them with a lust they couldn’t sate in a hundred years? Riding my spectral beast through the sky would I feel every ripple of muscle and every lunge like a thrust from a lover? Would I long to ride those noble warriors like my steed?

Would I bring them into my dance of death as a lover, or subjugate them, conscribe them to a fate they don’t want? Would I force them to protect the heavenly host during Ragnarok, or would they come with me willingly, accepting my chaste kiss, and the ensuing death?

Would they die instantly? Would my kiss of death come moments before a sword fell them, or would I have already kissed them the night before, marking them as dead before the battle was waged?

Would they know they were bound to die, or would they be surprised? Would I come to them in a dream, and the victim would know without a shadow of doubt their time was up? Knowing this would they great battle with extra vigor? Would they yearn for the sweet release of death, and the lustful release promised them after death.

When dead, would I offer up my body as readily as I offered them mead? Would they take me savagely, conquering me as they conquered their foe, or would there be honor? Would there be respect and softness they rarely got to show?

Would taking them turn back the shadow of doom? Would I possibly have the honor of taking one, dining and bedding the one who would have the might to push back Hel and her ghoulish horde?

Writing Emotions

I seek to do one thing when I write. I seek to write a single moment, how the breath feels between lovers lips, how music courses through our being when a song strikes a chord with our past. I seek to express a first meeting, the gentle rocking of a lovers embrace, and the salty taste of loss.

When I put finger to keyboard, I am not writing about a character or an event. Take a zombie apocalypse, a nuclear holocaust, or a frenzied dragon and you will find one overall theme: humanity in all its colors, be it hateful, loving, crazed or complacent, for when we lose our humanity is when the darkness wins.


So much to do. Currently The Bonds of Blood is undergoing a huge revamp including internal and external content. This will make the book definitively for a young adult audience. What does this mean for the original story? A lot of cuts, and a lot of rewrites, but don’t worry, the integrity of the characters and the story lines are not changing. This revamp will only make the book easier to digest.

Then on to Whispers of a Distant Star. That book is coming together rather nice and I am falling in love with it like I never thought I could with a series taking place outside of The Great Realms or the fantasy genre. The thing that gets me is the first draft of any book I write (which is really just an extended outline consisting of 20-30 pages; a real bare bones) changes so remarkably once I really delve into the story development. It is almost like the characters are saying “Yes, Travis that is nice, but this is how I see the story going,” and they run with it and I am but a visitor watching the book unfold.

Anyway, off to work I go to create worlds and tales for all to enjoy!