Category: Writing

Cup of tea on a white saucer against soft linens
Work In Progress, Writing

Mid-January Check-In

K.A. Doore

*casually blows off the dust on this blog* How’s it going, y’all?

I’ve been decrying the dearth of blogs once more, only to remember that: hey, I’m part of the problem. I used to blog a bit more here and elseweb, but life became busier and I became convinced whatever I had to say wasn’t worth saying. I’m not so sure the truth has changed on either of those fronts, but I’d love to pick up the practice again.

For 2025, I set myself a daily practice of nibbles in lieu of any large goals or grand resolutions. Just little things I can do every day that slowly nibble away at a larger cheese–I mean, goal. One of those nibbles has been writing, and so far I have only missed one day, and that due to a plumbing emergency (don’t ask — just picture red-tinged water bubbling up between the floorboards and the alarmed squeals of small children). Despite sometimes only writing a meager 23 words, I’ve surpassed 9k this month. Sure, it’s for this weird little story that will likely never see the light of another’s eyes and remain hidden beneath the other forgotten files on my harddrive, but I’m having fun writing for the first time in easily two years and I actually believe I can finish this.

And who knows, maybe the act of finishing something will be enough to break whatever this weird writing curse has befallen me (don’t ask — just picture red-tinged water bubbling up between my fingers). For now, let’s designate this one catastrophe!WIP, to helpfully differentiate it from catacombs!WIP and cannibal!WIP, my other two on-again off-again projects. I passed the 70k mark yesterday and foresee it being around 100/110k total, a lot like TPA.

I guess it’s a Real WIP now. To that end, maybe I’ll hearken back to my pre-publication roots and do a little progress tracker for this Half-Life meets D&D horror fantasy, now with decommissioned rail systems, survivor’s guilt, and fun explosives.

Working Title: catastrophe!WIP

71019 / 100000 words

My other daily nibble is catching up on all the books I’ve missed over the past 5 years being intentional about reading every day. I actually started this nibble back in August and it’s reaped rewards a dozen times over, but I wanted to continue it into 2025. It’s too easy to let the day slip away with work and necessary tasks and children’s needs, which is why I initially set out to read as soon as I woke up in the morning. That has slipped recently, and I’ve noticed my reading has slipped along with it. So back to the daily nibble, even if it’s just one page.

This year I’ve already finished reading one book, Metal from Heaven by August Clarke. A vibrant, violent, and at times hallucinatory fantasy about workers’ rights, the slipperiness of utopia, and the sacrifices revenge demands. This book is an overall exemplar of all that’s amazing coming out of the fantasy genre right now, timely in a way that’s also timeless. I’ve already seen it mentioned as a contender for numerous awards lists and it’s absolutely deserving of the buzz.

So yeah: starting the year off right, I’d say.

Life, Writing

“How’s the writing going?”

K.A. Doore

A well-meaning question that’s just as hard to answer. Sometimes I can truthfully answer — after a few solid 5am writing sessions — “good.”

Lately… it’s more complicated. “It’s going,” suffices for both of us, and is equally true.

But what I really want to say, and what no one has the time for, is that the baby was up for three hours on Friday night, so I slept in until 6.30. I had just enough time to finish one cup of coffee and open my laptop before I heard a tiny “mama Kai?” from the hallway. Cabin Girl is up. I tell her good morning and she sits on the chaise under the window and tells me about her dreams last night.

Then I let her have her tablet so I can finish a second cup of coffee and try to write, but I can never manage the latter once she’s up. Instead, I make her breakfast (cracking egg, scrambled eggs), go to the backyard to put some plants in the ground, and then the baby’s stirring and it’s 8am??

I get the baby dressed and snacked, I get CG dressed, and we’re on our way to get some bagels for my wife. I forget to wipe the dirt from my cheek, but someone helpfully points it out in line.

A chocolate muffin for CG, bites of my bagel for the baby, we sit at a booth and I try to strategize the morning. If I can wear out both kids, I might have time to write while they charge in the afternoon. Should I try to make the plant sale at the Natural History Museum? Maybe they’d have the flatwoods plum I really wanted. But before I float the possibility of hey, plants! with CG, I get a text from a mom friend — can we come over for a bit? She’s still feeling out of sorts from the flu (that we gave her, whoops) and her sitter canceled.

Of course! Soon I’m outside with four kids and a box of chalk but only the baby’s playing with the chalk; CG and her friend, 6, are in my car pretending to drive and the fourth child, 3, is sulking because she wants to go inside. What about a walkabout? “Yeah!!” shout the kids in the car and then there’s a rush to get shoes on.

We walk to 6’s elementary school and back — CG will be starting there in just a few months and wanted to see where it was. The baby walks for a little bit, but his short legs simply can’t keep up with the older kids, so I strap him to my chest for most of it. 3 gets tired, too, so I put her on my shoulders for the last stretch. She squirms off just when we reach their home and all three older kids run inside together.

I walk the baby inside and find the girls on their tablets already. I make popcorn for the girls and then hang out with the baby until it’s time to take CG to gymnastics. Her gym is packed, the busiest I’ve seen on a Saturday in a while. I bring the baby’s carrier because I’m not sure how he’ll be during the hour of gymnastics. CG runs off to warm up. I try to get the baby to settle in my lap, but he’s decided my lap is a slide. When I get tired of this, I put him in the carrier and bounce around and — oops, he’s asleep. Maybe he won’t sleep long?

Nope, he’s completely out for nearly the whole hour of gymnastics. So that’s his nap for the day. At least I get to watch CG tumble and jump and flip on the bars — as well as run around, be silly, and ignore her instructors. Ah well.

Home again and now both children are hangry. I give the baby to my wife and grab lunch and get CG fed. Then I tap out. I only mean to close my eyes for a few minutes and daydream of plot but I conk completely out instead. Whoops.

When I rise, the baby still hasn’t napped and CG is putting together a puzzle in her room. I try to put together the pieces of my brain and realize we should probably offer to bring desert when we go over to our friends’ later. They’re going to feed us dinner, after all. I spend too much time trying to find the Best Dessert nearby while CG plays with the baby and oh shoot, we should’ve left already.

CG is excited to see her friend, 5’s, house. CG and 5 start playing boardgames on the floor, the adults actually manage some conversation while corralling the 2 year old and bouncing the baby into a 2nd nap.

Then we go outside and the baby learns how to crawl up the baby slide and sliiiiiiiiiiide down and he’s living his best life and 5 teaches CG how to use her (kid-friendly) bow and shoot an (kid-friendly) arrow, and my wife delights in all the plants they have and I delight in the hundreds of lovebugs and the kids try to fly a kite but just tangle themselves up and then their mom shows me all the grubs in their compost.

Then it’s dinner time and two pairs of parents try to get two pairs of kids to eat. We end up trading off until CG and 5 had their fill and now they’re out front, playing with the neighbor kids. I lure them back inside with cookies. It’s getting past the baby’s bedtime, but the girls want to play one last boardgame, and then one last game. Fine, fine, but we have to go right after —

And we do, with the normal amount of goodbyes and we’ll see you agains and no really, CG, put your shoes on.

The baby is loopy. So are the mommies. We make it home, put the baby down only an hour late, and then work on CG. She’s tiiirred and dragging but we get her in jammies and in bed. When only one mommy is needed, I stumble into our room and fall face-first into bed, promising myself I’ll write in the morning.

*

The baby wakes up at 4.30. He’s just chattering, so I grab the monitor to let my wife keep sleeping and start the coffee brewing. He keeps chattering. I give him a bottle, change his diaper, he goes back to sleep. For 5min. Then he’s up and down, fussing but not really, and I’m trying to write, but not really, because is this the time his fusses turn to cries? It’s 6am and he’s still going so I hold him and pat him and rock him until his body is floppy with sleep. Now it sticks.

I promised myself I’d go for a run this morning so it’s now or never. I put on shoes and headphones and head out the door. It’s a Zombies, Run! ending episode, so it’s all very exciting but also longer than usual.

CG is up when I return — whoops, that was an hour — playing games with other mommy. I make breakfast just as the baby wakes up. We take our time getting ready as I coordinate with my sis-in-law about meeting up to go blueberry picking. Pack up the car, tell CG to get her socks on (“but where ARE my socks??” they’re in her room, they’re always in her room), pack snacks that will never be the right ones or enough, put ice in the water because it’s going to be hot, wipes, extra clothes, swim suits because maybe we’ll stop by the lake after?, which also means towels, CG’s floaties, goggles, flip flops —

— and oh shoot, we were supposed to be in the car by now. We strap all the children in, doublecheck we have everything, grab that one last thing, and finally we’re gone.

The blueberry picking place is well-signposted and soon we’re pulling in just as my SIL and parents get there. Baby goes in the stroller and CG’s already running off with her cousin, 6. The bushes are full and the berries are ripe and the two girls have Been Here, Done This, so it’s the first year I’m not holding CG’s hand and showing her which to pick. Instead, she’s two rows over, competing with her cousin. I get to pick all by myself and it’s… a little lonely, actually.

With two fully capable kids and several adults, we soon have enough blueberries to last at least a week (in our house, anyway), and it’s getting hot and the girls are overheated, so we head in. But not without picking one last blueberry. No really, this is the last one. No, this is.

The field owners brought in a shaved ice truck because they’re wise, so we settle down in the shade while the girls (and the baby) eat shaved ice. There’s a breeze and it’s not too humid and it’s a perfect moment of exhausted while loading up on sugar.

There’s an animal sanctuary nearby and it closes soon! They have rescue pigs and cows and chickens and turkeys and goats and even a horse, as well as a new beehive that’s busy with activities. The girls head straight for the playground.

After a little bit of cajoling, they’re getting overexcited about the pigs (“there’s a pig! THERE’S ANOTHER PIG!!11”) and a little freaked out by the turkeys. There’s even a tractor ride (“I SEE A PIG!!!”). Then we have to pry the girls off the playground again because it’s two hours past this baby’s naptime and he’s getting slap happy.

The baby does not fall asleep on the drive back, which is probably for the best. I drop him and my wife off at home so they can both nap, then take CG the short distance to the massive pool at my parents’ apartments. There is Food and I am relieved I don’t have to figure out lunch. The girls eat all on their own and then play together on the floor and I have a moment where I just sit and stare at the wall for a while, the fact that I’ve been going since 4.30am catching up to me. My brain goes blissfully quiet.

Then it’s Pool Time!! so we get the girls in bathing suits. Sunscreen applied, towels and floaties and pool noodles grabbed. It’s just me and grandpa and two little girls. Can’t be that bad, right?

I forget that 6 can actually swim and soon I’m being attacked below by one child and attacked above by the other. We play keep away for a bit, where I’m the thing being kept away, then I get grandpa to come in and play with them so I can just ,,, float.

The water is a bit cold, because nights are still mild, so when the clouds roll in, both girls start complaining. We rinse off and head back for ice cream — grandpa has special color-changing spoons and it breaks the girls’ minds — and then CG’s cousin has to leave because school tomorrow and I’m fading faster than cheap hair dye.

We’re home again and now it’s a race to get the baby to bed and CG in jammies. I manage to help with dinner and putting the baby down a second time, and then I’m done. It’s barely 8pm and CG wants to do a puzzle and my wife tells me it’s ok, she’s got this, go to bed.

I’ll write in the morning, right?

*

“How’s the writing going?”

I want to say all the above and more. That in theory I have the time, that I have the drive, that I have the want. That I plan on writing every morning. And I do…. sometimes.

And to be fair, not all weekends are like this. Sometimes both kids sleep in until 8am. Sometimes I run away for a few hours to a cafe with my laptop.

My WIP sits at 60k on its fifth rewrite and I hit my goal of 500 words more often than not. But the days that are “not” often look like the above and then Monday morning I’m riding a weekend hangover and still have to dayjob.

Like with the baby years, this won’t last forever. I can’t deny I’m not envious of those writers who can take a whole weekend to stew on their plot, to badger their characters, to rustle up complications. But I love this life and wouldn’t change it for the world. 

“How’s the writing going?”

“It’s going.”

Pre-pub

8 Practical Tips for the Debut Author

K.A. Doore

Recently, I shared five tips to help you survive your debut year (I mean, they helped me, so).

It was pretty touchy-feely, because, well, have you met me? But I know how much people need something concrete when they’re lost at sea and flailing about for anything solid, anything at all.

So I thought a a bit more about what advice/knowledge I wish I’d had last year and came up with these eight somewhat random but wholly practical tips for debut authors:

1. Don’t read the reviews.
We’ve all heard the warning. At some point, people you don’t know will start reading your book and they’ll share what they thought about it. This is great! But also harrowing. But great! But aaaah. Because even the smallest critique can feel like someone’s insulting your flesh & blood child and can take the wind out of your Second Book sails.

Reviews are for the reader, not you. Your chance to learn and make changes came during the beta read and during developmental edits. You can’t go back and fix all the things readers will pick up on, and you shouldn’t even try. Some will have wanted a faster pace; some will have wanted more details. Some will have wanted more stabbing; some will have wanted less. You can’t please everyone. You should only ever try to please yourself and maybe your editor. Scratch that: definitely your editor.

Reviews are for the reader. An angry one star review about the gay content will convince more people to read the book than to skip it. A glowing five star review might turn off an equal number of potential readers, because maybe they don’t like long self-reflective scenes about starfish as much as the reviewer does.

One or five stars doesn’t ultimately say anything about the effort you put in, the many mornings or late nights you yanked sentences out of your heart and carefully smoothed them onto the page, and they don’t reflect that one person who so needed your book in that moment. And that’s ultimately who you’re writing for, right? Those people who need your book.

So: don’t read the reviews. Easy, right?

2. If you read the reviews, glut yourself on them.
Okay, maybe it’s not that easy. There’s a second camp of writers who appoint a trusted friend to read reviews and pass along the best. An excellent and sane strategy.

So of course I set up a tent in the somewhat lonely third camp aka Camp Just Give Into Temptation and Read Them All.

The first few bad reviews will be painful, like ripping off a bandage on the same area of skin over and over and over again. But at some point, the skin gets numb and it won’t hurt as much. The reviews will blend together into a general, seamless whole that gives you a bigger picture of what readers think, and maybe some areas you could work on in your writing for next time.

But you have to read all of them. Not just the bad ones. Not just the good ones. You have to read the head-scratching ones, the “are you sure you read my book?” ones, the “wait why two stars when you said you loved it?” ones. Because only then will you understand how truly subjective reviews are. And only then will you be able to let go of reviews and be free.

You’ll finally understand: reviews are for the reader.

3. Pick one social media platform and have fun.
It’s easy to feel like you need to be on Instagram and Twitter and Facebook and Snapchat and Goodreads and Bookbub and WordPress and Dreamwidth and Tumblr –

Oh goodness, I’m getting anxious just listing them all out. Let’s stop there.

It’s been said again and again: it’s better to use just one platform well than to try to use a bunch poorly. And you’re going to do best on the platform where you feel most comfortable.

For me, that’s been Twitter. It doesn’t take much thought, it’s conversational, and it’s easy to find and connect with other writers and readers. I also have an Instagram, but Instagram’s refusal to play well with desktops has been like running into a brick wall for me. Call me old, but I like using a laptop instead of my phone.

Once you’ve picked your favorite platform(s), the second most important thing is: have fun. Be yourself, even! If everybody else is doing something a Certain Way and you feel uncomfortable doing that – don’t! If you see advice that you should Do a Thing, but that thing fills you with anxiety bees – don’t! Self-promo is hard enough without feeling sick to your stomach about it the whole time.

Instead, promote other authors/writers/artists/cool stuff. Yell happily and unabashedly about those things and you might just find it gets easier to yell about your own stuff.

Pro-tip: Sometimes, if you absolutely need to Do a Self-Promo, try scheduling it in advance.

4. Everything takes foreeeveer – until it doesn’t.
It’s very normal to feel like you’re waiting and waiting and waaaaiting. There will be whole swaths of months where nothing at all is happening – at least not that you can see. And then a bunch of stuff will all happen at once – cover! copy edits! proofs! ARCs! – and just as you’re getting into the grove of handling all those things, you go right back to months of nothing.

This is normal. Trust me. Appreciate the quiet while you can and use it to work on something new.

Because before you know it, you’ll be in over your head again.

5. Use a productivity app.
Funny thing about being a debut – you’re still checking your email as often as you were while querying. You also might find yourself online more often, haunting the same circle of three or four websites. When your phone is always within reach, it’s easy – too easy – to just pick it up without thinking.

So try a productivity app. My go-to has been Forest, a handy little app that lets you set a timer and then encourages you to put down your phone with a happy little tree. You can still use your phone, but if you do, it kills the tree. Every time you successfully avoid using your phone and let the timer run out, a happy little tree shows up in your plot. Enough trees, and you have a forest.

Ah.

6. Get on panels!
Aside from Tucson Festival of Books, I’d never attended any book-related convention or conference until after my contract was signed. And if it hadn’t been for my agent-siblings’ encouragement, I wouldn’t have signed up for any panels until well after my book had come out.

I didn’t understand how most cons worked. I used to think every single panelist was invited or otherwise solicited, but that’s not the case. Honestly, I’m still learning, but I do know now that most of those panelists actively asked to be included and put on panels. Smaller cons thrive on volunteers and panelists and if you have a book coming out or if you know anything about publishing or even if you’re just an avid reader, you should check out the requirements at your local con.

Sirens Conference, for example, accepts proposals from any attendee; you don’t have to be published, you just have to know something about what you’re presenting. And ConFusion, my home con, was totally cool with me being on a few panels even though it was January and my book didn’t come out until March.

So: look! Ask! Propose! It’s excellent practice for talking about your book and also a great way to meet other people in the publishing community.

7. If you want to do it, do it.
This is kind of a weird piece of advice, but if you want to Do a Thing, this is your permission to Do It. Did you want to run a pre-order campaign? Do it. Did you want to go say hi to your local indie? Do it. Did you want to write some articles for a website you really admire? Send them an email and do it. Did you want to do a cover reveal? Set it up. Did you want to order a bunch of stickers and stick them everywhere? Yeah, do that too.

Just as long as you want to.

Don’t feel obligated to do any of that, though. Pre-order campaigns are a lot of work for often minimal return. Writing essays gets your name out there but doesn’t usually sell a lot of books. Stickers are cool but, well, sticky. It all costs money or time or both, and that’s going to be in short supply. And your publisher might do some things, but if you really, really, really want to Do a Thing:

Do it.

8. Use Media Mail for sending books.
Last, but certainly not least, if you live in the U.S. and want to send a book to someone else in the U.S., go to the counter at your local USPS and ask for media mail. As long as all you’re sending is a book, and not any related swag, you will save so much on postage. And keep the receipts for all those mailers you’ll be buying – these do count as a business expense (hashtag I am not a tax advisor, so this is not advice, but).

 

I’ll share more advice as I get further along in this whole Author Thing, but for now, I’m curious:

What’s been your favorite / most useful piece of advice for debuts?

Pre-pub, Writing

5 Tips for Surviving Your Debut Year

K.A. Doore

It’s been over five weeks since my debut novel The Perfect Assassin came out into the world and I’ve been spending most of that time decompressing. Relaxing. Reading. Sleeping (!), even, when the Toddler allows.

But me being me, I’ve also been thinking about the past year – and beyond. It’s been a bit of a wild ride and goodness, am I glad it’s over. I wasn’t sure whether or not the other side of Being Published, No For Real My Book’s On That Table Over There would feel much different from pre-pub, and it didn’t for the first few days/weeks, but now that things have settled a bit and the confetti’s turned to dust, it does feel different.

More chill, for one. More concrete, for another.

I lived with a lot of anxiety last year, which seems obvious in retrospect but kinda hit me like an invisible bus at the time. Of course I was going to be in a state of perpetual worry when I had no idea what was going on or what to expect and I didn’t want to trip over my own feet and make an absolute fool of myself.

The debut year is a lot like that first day at a new job, when you’re not sure what their version of business casual is (are sleeves necessary? can I wear boots??), whose desk is where (Carol in HR to whom I must return this important form: WHERE ARE YOU), whether or not you should bring silverware (is there even a sink?), where the stairwell is (what about this door – nope: brooms), who takes a lunch and when, or – most importantly – what you’re actually supposed to be doing.

You’re hecka excited to be there – of course! it’s a new job!! you applied and interviewed and hoped for this!!! – but those first few days you come home exhausted and overwhelmed. You don’t even know what you don’t know and everyone else just seems so much more competent and on it. And you know making mistakes is just a part of the learning process, but every one of them feels like a personal failure.

Yeah, exactly like those first few days, but stretched over a year.

It makes sense that on the other side, things might be a lot more chill and relaxed. Sure, there’re still a lot of things to worry about, but just knowing what those things are brings the anxiety down to a reasonable amount. The road might yet be windy and full of fog, but I’ve come far enough that I know it’s a road and, well, that can be enough.

Also now I know where Carol is.

So here, from the other side of things, are five tips for surviving your own debut year:

1. Find your tribe.
I’m putting this first because it’s just that important. Join a debut group. Go on Twitter and find other baby or recently published authors. Find your agent siblings, your editor cousins. Follow them. Read their blogs, their posts, their tweets.

More importantly: talk to them. Embrace them. Support them and let them support you.

I’ve been a part of Debut Authors ’19 since the very beginning and they’ve been a lifesaver. Every time I felt like I was going crazy, I had a place I could check in where I knew they wouldn’t judge me. And that’s important – getting an agent, a contract, is kind of a privileged thing, right? It’s cool and amazing and awesome. But it’s a bit like suddenly owning a dragon. It’s super cool and not very common but also who are you going to talk to when it starts eating the neighboring village’s sheep??

That said, there are downsides to being in a debut group. You do get to see all the possibilities of publishing, some of which you never would have dreamed of. And seeing them, you know better than to dream, but you do, a little. If you’re a competitive type, the comparison game can become overwhelming. And even if you’re not competitive, it’s hard not to see something cool and wonder “why not?”

(The answer to this is, of course, because That Is Not Your Book. Your book is different and unique and other things will happen for it, many you can’t even imagine now.)

There’s something to be said for being able to go through the whole debut process in blissful ignorance of those other possibilities. But then, the community you build in those groups is a community that will persist for years after. These are your peers, your colleagues, your coworkers, your friends. I’m ride or die for a number of them, and there’s nothing sweeter than cheering on a friend’s success – or yelling loudly about how great they are.

That community is priceless.

2. Be kind.
Be kind in your words. Be kind in your actions. Be aware that someone, somewhere, is looking up to you as a Real Author. Your actions will carry more weight, whether it’s encouragement or a review or a smile emoji. Ignoring that weight isn’t being humble – it’s doing that person a disservice.

So be kind. Be thoughtful. Be the kind of person you’d want to meet and the kind of person you want in your community.

3. It’s okay to feel other emotions than excitement or elation.
We humans are complex and contradictory creatures. We are also highly predictable. You are the same person you were yesterday, and a book deal doesn’t change that. It can certainly be validating, but you’re still you and your life is still your life.

And that means every day ain’t gonna be a complete picnic.

In fact, sometimes it could be worse, because you might have a little voice in the back of your head berating you for being tired, exhausted, depressed, or just generally blah when you have so much to be grateful for and excited about.

But if anything, you should allow yourself even more leeway for extreme emotions on both sides of the spectrum, because this is something you have been working toward for years and decades, because this is something you care deeply about. The fact that you get a bit overwhelmed or upset or worried sometimes isn’t a failure – it means you are thoroughly and completely invested. It means that this is important to you.

4. Excitement is physiologically indistinguishable from fear.
And it’s just as exhausting.

Both fear and excitement cause a spike in adrenaline, which rushes through your system causing your hands to shake and your pulse to elevate and 100+ other stress responses to occur. And there is a lot of excitement as you get to see your cover, as other authors start reading your words, as you start seeing your book on lists and in reviews.

I was really confused at first why an amazing email or bit of news would cause me to short-circuit and need some downtown, but after realizing it’s that same shock of adrenaline you get when you’re scared, it made a lot more sense.

Enjoy, but also remember to take care of yourself. It’s a lot.

5. This is only the beginning of your career.
There’s a lot of waiting and waiting and… waiting… when you’re a debut. Case in point, I signed my contract in 2016 and my book didn’t come out until 2019. So I get it – it can feel like you’ve been at this a while, and it can also feel like everything has been done and it’s all over once you actually hit pub date.

But in reality, it’s only the very start. You did the equivalent of a PhD program and survived, which is no small feat, but you’re only just now entering the job market and the beginning of your career.

Everything you do now is another step along that path and it will take you places you have never been before and you will meet so many new and amazing people.

Just keep your feet on the warm stones and move forward.

Bonus: One thing I wish I could tell myself a year ago.
Find a therapist. Now. Find a psychiatrist, too, and get yourself on anxiety medication. It’ll make a world of difference. You’re welcome.

Aside from that, I would tell her it’s fine. It’s going to be fine. Feel all the feels, wallow in the emotions, take a walk, take a run, take a hike – and keep writing.

Chronicles of Ghadid Trilogy, Pre-pub, The Impossible Contract (Book 2), The Perfect Assassin (Book 1)

January Recap (Madcap?)

K.A. Doore

It sure has been a month. I don’t even know how to begin, so let’s just run through it, shall we?

I started a new job. Winter finally showed up. I moderated my first panel and gave my first reading at ConFusion in Detroit. I wrote a bit more of my WIP. The cover for book two entered the world. Book one got two excellent trade reviews. Our laundry machine broke. A Polar Vortex shut down our city –

Wait, wait, WAIT – you say. Book two’s cover?? Went live???

Oh yeah. I guess that’s important.

Okay that’s an understatement. It’s pretty important and I’m REALLY EXCITED about it. If you’ve been following my posts for any length of time, you know Book Two was once Book Only and I poured my heart and soul into it. Then I wrote Book One and poured my heart into that too, but Book Two will just always have that place in my heart as the First.

There’s just something about writing a book for just you, never knowing if it’s going to get an agent’s attention let alone reach the light of day – or the hands of readers. I love all of my book children equally, in their own ways, but The Impossible Contract just feels different. For The Perfect Assassin, covers and blurbs and reviews weren’t daydreams – they were expectations. I had a contract, after all. But for TIC, well. They were dreams.

And when I got to see TIC’s cover for the first time in December, it was literally a dream come true.

And now that it’s live elsewhere on the internet, I can finally share that dream with you:

The purple! The gold! That expression! That garrote! It’s THANA. My Thana, who started out as a lone figure on a rooftop almost five years ago and now has a whole family to rely on. She has come so very far and I can’t wait to talk more about her and share her with you in November.

But BEFORE THAT I have a whole ‘nother book coming out.

And The Perfect Assassin has been getting some awesome reviews.

But Kai, you say gently, You just dropped a cover on us. You can tell us about the reviews later.

I mean, yes technically, I could but in reality, this is probably the only blog post I’m going to make for the next month or two, so you’re getting this now.

Here – if it’s any easier, you can take a break and come back in a week or so and pretend this is a whole new blog post. Good?

Good.

Welcome back!

I’ve already flailed and hyperventilated about this elsewhere, but The Perfect Assassin got a starred (!!!) review from Publisher’s Weekly! You can read the whole thing here, but if you want to avoid some very light potential spoilers, here’s the choice quote:

“Doore is a force to be reckoned with, blending a stirring plot, elegant worldbuilding, effortless style, and diverse, empathetic characters.”

!!!!

!!!!!!

I might have shouted “a force to be RECKONED WITH” every chance I had for a week straight. Honestly, I’m still riding that high.

And then there’s also this amazing review from Booklist. It’s behind a paywall, so if you don’t have access, here’s another good quote:

“Doore’s thrilling fantasy debut is a suspenseful murder mystery wrapped around a coming-of-age story […] Ghadid, set on platforms hundreds of feet above shifting sands, is vividly described, with a fascinating history and culture that Doore folds in naturally. This author is one to watch.”

WATCH ME.

IF YOU DON’T, WHO WILL.

AND IF NO ONE DOES, DO I EVEN EXIST?

Anyway: *flings confetti*

I guess this means I can’t pretend I’ve just been bribing/threatening everyone for good reviews. Or maybe it does and these are two flukes that will never happen again! Who knows! I sure don’t! You might find out in just 48 days!

 

Photo by Georgia de Lotz on Unsplash

City of Wraiths, Draft Zero, Writing

Promises

K.A. Doore

The next few months are going to be a whirlwind – and not just because I have a book coming out (in 74 days [not that I’m counting {okay yes I’m counting}]). New job, ConFusion, new WIP, edits for book 3, (presumably) copy edits for book 2, cheering on my fellow 2019 debuts, trying (somehow) to keep up with All the Books, physical therapy, and in amongst that also, you know, time for family and keeping the house from falling apart.

There are only so many hours in a day was already my mantra for most of 2018, and it looks like so it’ll be for 2019. I foresee a lot of brutal prioritizing, and at the top of that list will always be the Toddler and my wife. Below that, my promises – to myself and to others.

Here’s to not taking on any more promises until at least April, though.

But for now, these are the promises I’ve already made, at least to myself.

For January, my promise to myself is to take it easy as I go back to working fulltime and in an office. Balancing dayjob and writing will never be easy, but at least it was easier when I had a full day each week to devote to writing and could do chores during any downtime at work. Now I can only hope that the Toddler is strong enough to help vacuum.

Which is why my only writing goal for January is to show up every morning and get words down. I’m focusing on a WIP that has no deadline and is all draft zero, so I really don’t have to do much more than get a messy outline down. No one’s waiting for this and no one’s going to read this any time soon, so no pressure.

For February, I’m hoping I’ll have my new routine down – and also be free of the four weeks of training the new job requires. That seems like the perfect time to return to Ghadid and finish the edits on book 3. My current goal is to have those done & polished & turned in by my pub date. Because March.

March.

Well, March I plan on not planning. I have no idea what to expect around my publication, but I can expect that I’ll be mentally distracted by it all. So better if I don’t set any particular deadlines for myself that month, at least not creatively. If I have the mental space, I’ll continue noodling on this WIP. If I don’t, well, hopefully I can still read.

I think those are some fair plans for the next few months, don’t you?

And since it’s January, here’s current progress on my rage! against! the! patriarchy! WIP, working title City of Wraiths, an adult fantasy about lies covered in secrets heaped upon more lies, now with bonus! promises of necromancy, attempted murder, and creepy mists.

Deadline: None, but aiming for July for betas

Current word count:
28,167 out of 60,000

Body count: 2

# of Times Only One Bed Trope Used: 1

Attempted stabbings: 3

Draft Zero, Life, Writing

On NaNoWriMo and Failure, Or: How I’m Learning to Embrace My New Writing Process

K.A. Doore

It is November 28th. There are three days remaining in November, which means three days remaining in National Novel Writing Month, that time of year when thousands – hundreds of thousands – of writers try to plunk down 50,000 words in the span of a single month.

In years past, I have diligently hit the daily goal of 1,667 words and reached 50,000 with little to no problem. Maybe I missed a day or two here and there, but I always made it up.

Those years, unfortunately, appear to be firmly in the past. In 2016, I wrote 22k for NaNoWriMo. In 2017 I was finishing edits on book 2, so I didn’t bother. And this year I’m on track to hit 20k on a new story. Not even half the official goal.

Perhaps those years will come around again. Perhaps in another time.

But that time is not now, and if there is one thing I’ve learned from this past year, I can mourn my past and What I Used to Be Able to Do and try and fail and try again to meet those old standards, but after all that effort I’ll still be no closer to my goal. All that does is leave me feeling defeated. Less than. Worthless.

My life has changed quite a bit since my first NaNoWriMo in 2001 and my writing has, too. Things changed most drastically in 2016, with the birth of our daughter, but the fallout from that has been gradual. I clung for a long time to the idea that Things Would Return to Normal and I just had to keep trying to reach the goals I’d had before, keep trying to do things as I always had. If I just kept doing the same exact thing, eventually it would succeed, yes?

…hmm, isn’t there some quippy adage about doing the same thing over & over again and expecting different results?

This period was prolonged by the fact that I was working in a world I’d already built, with (relatively) established characters, mythology, history, plot, etc etc et cetera. So it was easier to keep reaching, to de-prioritize my own health, to get up early and stay up late and have very little time to read or really do anything outside of housework – because at least I was still hitting my word count each day.

And I was! Until I wasn’t.

This summer was the first time I hadn’t met my own personal deadlines in a very long time. And I kept not meeting them. But I pushed on regardless.

I turned in Book 3 and then… well, I didn’t so much as crash as fall apart. At first it was a deliberate & planned falling. I read instead of writing and it was amazing, don’t get me wrong. But a consciously quiet month off turned into a not so consciously quiet two months off turned into three.

Not for want to trying. When November rolled around, I decided I’d participate in NaNoWriMo. That would be the kick in the butt to finally get back to writing like I used to. As I did over the summer, I set my daily writing goals and I tried to hit them. But when I didn’t, and I fell further and further behind, I just felt like a failure. I was plagued with doubt. What had happened? What had changed? Why did it feel like I had no time anymore?

As I cut another morning writing session short because my daughter had just woken up, crying, and needed me, I finally realized

My life had changed.

So shouldn’t how I write change as well?

I am not the person I was five, three, even two years ago. I am not in the same situation, I don’t have the same amount of time or energy or brainpower. The background processing I used to do throughout the day on my characters and plots is simply gone, taken over instead with the innate ability to know exactly where my daughter is and what she’s doing at any given second of the day. It has simply become impossible for me to write as quickly as I used to. All that processing has to happen in front of the laptop now, in the spare minutes I can find and gather in the morning.

And while I might mourn the last of that past self – so much time! how did I never realize how much time I had? – I wouldn’t trade where I am now for the world. But that means accepting I am the person I am now, and that no amount of wishing or planning or goal setting or staring covetously at other people’s free time will change that.

Perhaps it’s about time I meet myself where I am, now.

In 2016 I wrote 22k words for NaNoWriMo: a failure. I went on to write another 20k words in December and another 16k words in January and finished the first draft of a book that comes out in less than four months.

This year, I will probably hit 20,000 words. I can’t write 1,667 words a day anymore, but I can write 500. I can write 1000.

So I will keep writing, 500-1000 words a day, throughout December. And I will keep writing, 500-1000 words a day, throughout January. And I will finish a first draft. It won’t matter in a year that it took me three months instead of one month to write that draft. The time will pass. The only thing that will matter is that I wrote a book.

I wouldn’t call that failure.

Querying, The Impossible Contract (Book 2), Writing

Hey What About Your Query, Kai?

K.A. Doore

A picture of a cat, not a query letter.

As some of you already know, I’ve joined this year’s Pitch Wars mentor crew. For those unfamiliar with Pitch Wars, this means that one (not-so-)lucky writer will get the chance to have their manuscript beaten (literally and figuratively) into shape by me. But to get to that point they – you, possibly – will have to first write a query.

If there’s one thing all authors/writers/agents/human beings can unilaterally agree on, it’s that queries were devised to torture storytellers. You spent what feels like a million words (by that 24th revision it’s probably been more) carefully building a story and now someone wants you to do it again in – *gasp* – 250-300 words. Mon dieu!

Thankfully that’s not really what a query’s meant to do. All it’s gotta do is entice. And to do that, you just gotta distill your plot down to a few lines, pick out some awesome details, snag the voice, do the Macarena, assemble the Avengers –

Wait. No.

They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, but I’m sure an example is worth just as many. So, here – have one successful query letter that just happens to be mine. It’s been a few years (*cough3cough*) and if I could I’d change a few things, but I’m going to resist and let you see the exact query that led to pages being requested that led to a full that led to a call that led to an offer and so on.

[Side note: This query was for The Impossible Contract, which is now Book Two (and if you want to know that story, go here). I don’t think there’re any spoilers for The Perfect Assassin (aka Book One) in here, but you have been warned if you care about those things.]

Dear Agent –

THE IMPOSSIBLE CONTRACT is a fast-paced adventure fantasy complete at 128,000 words. I’m sending this query to you in particular because I noticed you expressed an interest in LGBTQ stories in any genre and this novel includes a lesbian romance.

In the desert city of Ghadid, assassination is a family business. To learn the trade, Thana trained with her older cousins for years, but she’s still nervous when it’s her turn to take a contract. But it’s not just the responsibility: it turns out that her mark is the Empress’ own marabi, a highly skilled and powerful priest. Any qualms Thana might have had about killing a holy man, though, are soon put to rest when she learns the mark is involved in the blasphemous practice of binding souls.

The contract should have been straightforward: steal into the mark’s room, circumvent his magical protections, and slit his throat. Except that someone else wants the marabi dead. Before Thana can deliver the killing blow, a half dozen men break into the room and attack them both. Even outnumbered, the men should have been no match for fast and lethal Thana, but they have a key advantage against her knives and garrote: they’re already dead and someone – another blasphemer – has bound their souls. Thana barely escapes with her own life, let alone the mark’s.

The mark is determined to discover what these men are and who sent them. Thana is determined to follow the mark and finish her contract, even if that means leaving home to cross the desert. If she fails, not only will her family be shamed, but Thana’s life will be up for contract. But along her journey, Thana learns of the ancient evil behind the dead men and bound souls and realizes that the price of her success may be the destruction of all she holds dear.

Aside from writing, I also practice photography and weightlifting while living in the Sonoran Desert. I have the writer’s prerequisite small but significant cat collection and caffeine addiction, as well as a number of chickens, a degree in Classics, and way too many (never too many) knee socks.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

 

Here’s a few things to note:

First off, you’ll notice I front-loaded the query with the title and wordcount and a little personalized intro for that specific agent. Typically, you’ll want to go straight into the query proper, but if you have a reason you’re sending this to a specific agent, it can help to put that up front.

In this case, my query doesn’t have room for the romance in it, but since I knew the agent was specifically looking for queer fic, I pointed that out as part of the personalization.

Second… this is a little long for a query. Related, that wordcount is about 30k too long. I got dinged a lot for that, by the way (multiple agents specifically cited the wordcount in their rejections), and part of signing with my agent meant cutting as much as I could – and then cutting more once I signed with Tor. So take it from me, you really want to stay within the acceptable word count ranges for your genre (this has a good rule of thumb btw).

On the positive side, it still worked. So.

Third, I know a lot of writers worry about not having any pub credits to their name to rattle off in the bio section. You’ll notice I, too, had no prior publications nor anything really of note, so instead I used that space to add a little more of my own personality.

But wait, there’s more! Don’t just take my word for it – you can read a breakdown by another agent over at the Weekly Workshop as to why, exactly, my query worked for her.

I’d also recommend taking a deep dive into the Query Shark archives as well as reading all the queries the other mentors have put up in the last few days.

So there you have it. Just be short and honest and bleed a little on your keyboard and you’ll do just fine.

The Unconquered City (Book 3), Writing Tips

Book 3: Beta Time!

K.A. Doore

Book three. Is. Done.

Well.

Let’s caveat that.

It’s done enough. Enough that I need to put it in someone else’s hands and step away and breathe and focus. Enough that at this point, I’d be going in and tweaking and finetuning and adding details and subtracting paragraphs and not wholesale stripping out and rewriting chapters – which is what I spent most of May and all of June doing.

There’s a plot and events proceed (mostly) logically and it all comes together and actually ends, instead of dropping unexpectedly off a cliff. It’s not perfect, not by any long shot or under any fancy filter, but that’s good. It shouldn’t be perfect. If my betas do their jobs well – and they will – then I might still have some structural work to do. And better to do that and clean it up before the finetuning.

It’s a bit like building a body from scratch. You’ve gotta build the skeleton first, bone by bone by bone, and that’s your rough draft. And then you shove in the guts and veins and layer that all with muscles. That’s your second draft, the one that actually looks alive and might even function – it just wouldn’t be pretty.

At that point, you could begin putting the skin on and adding hair and all those little details that will turn your attempt at playing God into something less unsightly (you don’t want your story oozing on the freshly scrubbed lab tiles, do you?), or you could have someone look at it and make sure all the organs are properly connected and the veins go where they should.

Sometimes you’re so up-to-your-elbows in guts and organs that you don’t realize you’ve attached this ligament to that joint when it should really be attached to this joint or maybe you mixed up your orders for organs again and you’ve got a sheep’s heart instead of a human’s. How much easier it’ll be to fix if you haven’t already put the skin on and ratcheted up the lightning rods!

…okay I admit this metaphor got a bit out of hand.

But putting this gooey, skinless experiment of a book into my betas’ hands is scary. It requires a lot of trust. Trust in myself, that I know my process and I know what I’m doing. Trust in my betas, that they can see past the gore to the underlying logic and story. That they are willing to dive deep with me, get a little messy, and laugh the entire time. That they won’t just hold their noses and go “ew.”

Because we’re still a long way from done done.

But this is as far as I can make it on my own.

Pre-pub

How to Care for Your Debut Author

K.A. Doore

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Congratulations on your new debut author! Given the proper care, these creatures will make a wonderful addition to your family. They are generally quiet, complacent, and 120 proof, but while they may appear hardy on the outside, with frequent gruff vocalizations such as “no really, I’m fine,” “these aren’t tears; I have allergies,” and “I just have to meet this deadline,” you must be vigilant that they aren’t hollowed out by constant anxiety.

But don’t worry! To preserve the wellbeing of your debut author so that they not only survive the transition into your home and their new life, but also flourish and thrive and become a name you can drop to get into fancy places, just follow these five easy steps.

Step One: Water Daily
Try leaving a bowl of water out for your author. If you notice that the water level remains unchanged, remind your author that dehydration can lead to headaches, dizziness, death, or worse – a missed deadline.

Step Two: Feed regularly.
Be sure to include lots of greens in your author’s daily meals. If your author is a millennial, you can count avocados as a green. In a pinch, many brands of mint chocolate chip ice cream are also green.

But be warned: do not mix the avocados with the ice cream.

Step Three: Encourage photosynthesis.
An author will naturally shy away from sunlight, but it is in their best interest – and health! – for them to go outside daily. Try taking them for a walk, but be sure to keep them on a leash lest they start daydreaming and wander into traffic.

Step Four: Give general encouragement.
Picture a pristine lake, bordered by dogwood on one side, a meadow on the other. The surface of the lake is as clear and still as glass. Beneath that surface is a fish, dreaming of another life: a bigger lake, with more room to swim and grow, more fish friends like itself, and a publishing deal.

Now picture that fish dropped into the ocean. Rest assured that this was a euryhaline fish and therefore will not perish from the sudden change in salinity. The fish has everything it dreamed for: a bigger lake, lots of room to swim and grow, and millions of fishy friends.

But it’s also, understandably, a tad bit overwhelmed. Out of its depths. Feeling a bit like a fish out of water. Except, well, in water. Because we’re talking about the ocean. Ahem.

The potential for growth is nigh limitless, the possibilities unbounded, but at the same time, the chance for extreme anxiety is astronomical. The learning curve to survive the ocean is quite steep and while the fish is yet floundering, Here There be Sharks.

A few kind words can mean a lot during this time.

Step Five: Be patient.
Becoming a debut author is tectonic: it’s a process of many infinitesimal, invisible changes that eventually converge to create a new continent. You may have known your debut author since Before, and they have been many things along the way, and they are still those many things. But to the outside, they are now – as suddenly and irrevocably as a volcano – an Author.

This clash of creeping vs abrupt change creates a dissonance (not-so-)fondly called Imposter Syndrome. The debut author still feels in their bones that they are the fish in the pond, and that they don’t deserve to be in the ocean, that at any moment, someone will swoop in with a net muttering about “mix-ups” and “the wrong forms” and deposit them back in the pond.

They’ll continue to act like they’re in a pond and it will take them some time to accept that the ocean is theirs to thrive in and explore. They may swim about, first one way, then the other, as they try to understand their new home. They will need to learn, understand, and process, before they can accept.

A part of them will always be in that pond.

So be patient. When they cry about seemingly inconsequential things, give them a tissue and an ear – preferably attached. Likewise, when they can’t stop talking about something exciting that happened months ago, take them for a walk.

Your debut author may do strange things, like pee on the carpet, cling to the walls, or email you fourteen cover comps at 3am demanding your detailed opinion ASAP. Breathe deep and remember that this, too, is part of the way they’re processing the change. And maybe ask them to help clean up the pee. I mean really.

Bonus: Take care of yourself.
Your debut author is surprisingly resilient; despite what they may claim and occasionally deeply feel, they will likely survive living in the ocean. And they will need you for the long run. So remember to take care of yourself as well.

Set boundaries as needed. Be clear about what you are willing or not willing to discuss with your author. Because if you’re not careful, they may chew up hours of your time discussing the emotional depth and cultural resonance of particular fonts.

You may find yourself affected in unexpected ways. Feel free to talk to your debut author – or don’t. Whatever your choice, remember that your feelings are just as real and just as valid, and you deserve to be heard.

If you follow these easy steps, you, too, can have a happy and healthy debut author in your home or life, which will bring you years of delight, entertainment, and – of course – books.

[Pre-ordering their book will also soothe your debut author’s soul.]