Honestly, I’m honored and humbled. I think it’s fair to say Age of Sigmar is definitely the smaller property when it comes to Warhammer, so it was a rare pleasure to hear Lioness had sold well enough to warrant another book.

It’s always difficult to continue a character book-to-book. On one hand, Tahlia’s arc in Lioness of the Parch saw her come to terms with the necessity of diplomacy (however much she might dislike politicking); so I definitely wanted to begin the novel with a more measured, more mature character. On the other, I need her to be recognizable to readers just coming into the series. Although she still retains the rough-and-tumble attitude she had in Lioness, I tried to complicate both her loyalties and resentments as Tahlia’s perspective continues to broaden.

Then there were the Helsmiths.

While I very much enjoyed working with the Zharrdron, including a faction that was being developed as I was writing the novel presented both freedoms and challenges. Since literally nothing had been written about the Helsmiths, I had more space to interpret backstory and add my own spin. Both the Studio and my editors were incredibly communicative; but in the beginning we were all working off just a few pages of notes. Although this led to quite a few rewrites as the Helsmith lore was hammered out, it let the novel tie into a really cool new faction only a few months after their Battletome dropped.

For me, the most fun part was foregrounding and complicating their arrogance. Pride is a fundamentally human flaw (one from which Tahlia definitely suffers), but Helsmiths are not human. On some level they need to be alien to our experience; otherwise we run the risk of them reading as short, tusked humans with a penchant for big guns and environmental exploitation. I wanted them to be motivated not only by pride, but hubris in the Classical Greek sense--an arrogance so consuming it offends the gods. This worked with the Helsmiths’ lore, and it felt particularly germane to Age of Sigmar, where gods are a literal presence in the Mortal Realms.    

And then there was Ghyra.

Touching back on themes of complicating Tahlia’s beliefs and motivations, I wanted to toss her in a situation where she was forced to adopt an uncomfortable role. For all her devil-may-care attitude and clever stratagems, Tahlia is used to being an underdog. She views Hammerhal’s entrenched Azyrite interests as unwanted guests at best, and occupiers at worst. While the truth is far more complicated, in a very real sense Azyrites occupy a privileged position in Hammerhal (and in the Cities of Sigmar). By sending Tahlia to Ghyra, a city she initially views as Aqsha’s lesser half, I hoped to challenge her understanding of her place in the Mortal Realms.

In First Marshal Tahlia finds herself in the role of an unwanted guest. While she nominally commands the Ghyran forces, in reality she must face the same sort of friction, challenges, and insubordination that she frequently employs on the other side of the Stormrift. Granted, it takes a much different form given the culture of Ghyra. Add to that an existential threat, unreliable allies, and a sprinkling of Azyrite manipulation. Although Tahlia stays true to who she is, these challenges force her to broaden her views and accept that, just maybe, the situation in Hammerhal (and the Cities of Sigmar) is more complex than she assumed.

As you can probably tell, I had an absolutely delightful time diving back into Tahlia’s chequered story. Hopefully that came through on the page, and even more hopefully First Marshal will do well enough I can spend more time with everyone’s favorite monophthalmic marshal.

That isn't the case for Autumn.

When October comes around, the leaves variegate, and the sky turns to wet slate, I get an itch to write horror. Something about the autumnal color always sings to my cold, gray midwestern heart. I started out writing horror, and I still revisit it from time-to-time. But alas, I have work to do.

Still it's a dark pleasure when one of my earlier pieces sees the light of day. The long-haul nature of publishing means despite the fact I haven't written more than a handful of non-IP pieces in the last five years, occasionally one I submitted an age ago will burst from the cold literary loam, snapping and clawing.

Which brings me to the Cryptonaturalist.

I'll hazard a guess that he's probably the one who brought you here. If so, much obliged.

I'm lucky to be able to say that Jarod Anderson and I have been friends for some time. We first crossed paths when he popped into a seminar on fantasy maps I was giving at the dearly departed Context Convention in Columbus, Ohio. And well, we hit it off.

I'd sing Jarod's praises, but you already know how clever and kind and fey he is. I love his work. I love him.  So do you, I suppose. So when he asked me to write something for the Cryptonaturalist, I couldn't pass it up. The idea was to veer a bit more into horror territory while retaining a bit of the naturalistic whimsy the Cryptonaturalist does so well. I also wanted to give listeners a hint of how terrifying it might be to encounter one of Jarod's cryptids in real life.

So I threw some poor fool to the metaphorical werewolves, and let the Cryptonaturalist fish them out.

In any case, I'm glad you liked (or hated) the piece enough to seek me out. If you're interested in listening to more of my work, there's plenty to be had. If Autumn gets you in a spooky mood, here's some horror and weird fiction in a similar vein to my Cryptonaturalist piece, all for free:

"Second to Last Stop" (story starts around 3:30) A light horror piece that I wrote years ago. I've always been fascinated by liminal spaces in horror fiction--the point where the characters move from real to surreal. Before "Cabin in the Woods" came out, editors rejected this story for being "too meta". Afterwards, it was "too derivative". Which, to be honest, delighted me.

"All that Moves Us" (story starts around 18:35) In which someone goes looking for a missing friend and ends up finding more than she bargained for. A more traditional horror piece with some (very) light body horror.

"Every House, a Home" Not really horror, per se, although it include both ghosts and a haunted house. Although I can't compare to Jarod's prose-poetry, I feel like this is probably closest to the Cryptonaturalist vibe, although in a very urban setting.

"The Parlor" (story starts around 36:10) Pizza? Elder gods? What's not to love?

That represents a pretty good cross-section of my work. If you enjoyed any of those, there are plenty more in the Audio Fiction link at the top of the page. If you hated them all, thanks for giving me a chance. I know I'm not everyone's cuppa.

Lastly, I'd like to thank the Cryptonaturalist for letting me unearth some of my horror roots. It did me a world of good.

While I'm fond of Duardin, an enjoyer of Grots and Orruks, and largely tolerant of the various flavors of aelf; I make no secret of my love for the Freeguilds (and The Empire before them). Something about the desperate, gritty, and often short lives of humans in the Mortal Realms has always appealed to me. So it was a rare delight when the fine folks at Black Library reached out to see if I'd be willing to take a stab (or several) at Tahlia Vedra.

Seeing that this was the first novel I'd written about an established character, there was quite a bit more history to take in. Add to that the fact this was before the release of the Dawnbringer Campaign Books, many of which featured Tahlia quite prominently. This meant I not only had to work within established lore, but all the new character beats that were happening as I was writing the novel.

That's the nature of IP work, though; and honestly it only increased my desire to dig into Tahlia's motivations and backstory. It was particularly fun to thread her character arc around the framework of loyalty and pragmatism that the incredible writers at GW have so expertly constructed.

Also, Tahlia is a lot of fun. When writing Age of Sigmar fiction, its easy to be seduced by the grim, self-serious aspects of the setting. If you need proof, look no further than my first novel, which is as grim as they come.  Granted, Tahlia is capable of being just as stern and somber as her Freeguild fellows; but there's also a streak of fatalistic humor that underpins her outlook. I tried to convey this not only for Tahlia, but also the people around her--friend and foe, alike. And from the first fistful of reviews, it seems like that effort is coming across in the text.

Which, I'm not ashamed to admit, is a huge relief.

In any case, I am honestly proud of Lioness of the Parch. And grateful to the editors at Black Library who trusted me with a character so important to The Cities of Sigmar.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, I am humbled by the amazing art of Anna Lakisova (who made Tahlia and Infernadice look incredible) and Remi Milner (who brought my characters to life). 

Origins and Gencon will always have a special place in my heart, but it's been years since I've been to a proper fan con. Partly, that's due to the pandemic, and partly to the demands of juggling job, writing, parenthood, and various flavors of social obligation.

I'd long been chatting with writerly friends about dipping our toes back in the F/SF con circuit, so you can imagine my excitement when:

1) The oldest fan-run convention in Ohio was held literally a ten-minute drive from my house;

2) They reached out to ask if I wanted to be a guest of honor (yes, me, unbelievable), and;

3) My partner bravely offered to shoulder the childcare duties for the weekend.

Even without the various enticements Marcon had to offer, I would've been a fool to pass up the opportunity. And I must say, it was a true delight.

I forgot how much I enjoyed panels. There's a real thrill to sit down with a group of folks who share your passion and explore a topic of interest. I was lucky enough to sit on panels concerning taxonomies of fantasy novels and TTRPGs, but also some intro to writing/publishing panels where I got to share a bunch of things I wish I had known when I started out all those many years ago.

Although they kept me pretty busy, I was able to squeeze in a writing challenge, a fascinating talk on podcasting, and concerts by The Harp Twins and nerdcore virtuousos 2D6.

As always, my favorite part was the connections--not only with fans, but with my fellow authors. Writing can feel like such a singular pursuit at times, so it was truly wonderful to talk craft with folks whose work I admire (or picked up soon after leaving the convention).

Although none of them waved a book in my face (or perhaps because of it), I came away wanting to read work by: Geoffrey Landis, Marie Vibbert, and Jarod Anderson simply because of how thoughtful and fun they all were.

The con staff were incredible--communicative, friendly, and always ready to tackle the inevitable difficulties that come from trying to wrangle so many creatives. It was truly a labor of love, and I could feel that in every aspect of the convention.

I can't really convey how lucky I felt to be even a small part of the magic, and I certainly intend to attend Marcon 60 (if they'll have me). 

I think I was seven or so when I saw the ad for Heroquest.My father held out for a few months, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it. Soon, my barbarian was neck deep in orks, skeletons, and fimir, battling through a double-fistful of dungeons. Of course, dad played the Evil Wizard Zargon, and he NEVER went easy on us.

I remember once, my barbarian (Gholar the Impressive) charged ahead of the party and ended up mind controlled. I couldn't seem to roll high enough to break the spell. After dad had me slaughter my brother's elf, he forced me to watch, horrified, as my beloved Gholar chased the rest of the party from the dungeon. I learned a hard, yet important lesson that day. One, Scooby Doo reruns had very much NOT prepared me for.

Never split up the party.

After that came Battle Masters, sort of Warhammer light. Again, Dad mopped the floor with us; but I definitely remember the joy of firing that great cannon and watching the bouncing cannon ball obliterate his beloved Chaos Warriors.

This was roughly the time Games Workshop released these little green pamphlets, one for each army, that gave you a brief rundown of the faction and a sample army list (with points). They were free, so I grabbed an armload from my local hobby store (the dearly departed "Breastplate Hobbies"). I must have spent weeks poring over those little guys, drafting army lists and fighting pretend battles. The pamphlets didn't include actual rules, of course; but that didn't stop me.

My first unit was the old High Elf blue box (five spears, five archers), costing several weeks of allowance and paper route money. I couldn't afford Citadel paints, so I settled for some Testors enamels that I'd gotten for Christmas. 

Bad choice.

Suffice it to say, my poor High Elves turned into goopy messes. I did learn another lesson however--acrylics and inks are worth the price. After that, I was done for. Warhammer Fantasy (Elves), 40K (Eldar and Orks), Necromunda (Redemption, Orlocks), Mordheim (Ostlanders), even a brief foray into Gorkamorka. I didn't actually play the games very often, but I certainly spent quite a bit of time and money collecting (and painting) tiny warriors.

My true love was the lore, though. I wore the bindings of my High Elf and Empire army books, not to mention the dog-eared copies of WIlliam King's 'Slayer novels I managed to unearth in a used book store. Over the years my relationship with Warhammer has waxed and waned (mostly depending on real world pressures), but I've never fallen out of love with it. Even when I couldn't find the time to base and paint a warband, I still managed to carve out a few hours for a game of Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay or (rarely) Dark Heresy.

When Hasbro re-released Heroquest last year, I snatched up one of the initial run. Now, it's my 6-year old and friends who delve deep into dungeons. I, of course, am Zargon--a harsh, but fair villain in the style of my dear departed dad.

Oh dear, I've gone and buried the lead again...

I meant to write a post about my first Black Library novel Children of Teclis, and how honored and excited I am to be holding an ACTUAL BLACK LIBRARY BOOK WITH MY NAME ON IT. But I started talking about Warhammer and the thread sort of got away from me.

So...uh...thank you for wading through my fantastical recollections. Also, if you've got some spare time and a few bucks, why not give Children of Teclis a read? Or failing that, a listen. I'm going to write another post about it when the hardback comes out.

This time, I'll try to stay on topic, I promise:

It’s been too long since I last updated the site. The big difference is, this time, I actually have an excuse.

I’ve been writing my ass off.

Since last we spoke, I’ve completed four IP novels—two for Age of Sigmar which I very much cannot talk about yet; and two for Legend of the Five Rings, which I very much can. So let’s focus on those.

Heart of Iuchiban is perhaps the most difficult work I’ve ever attempted. Part mystery, part dungeon crawl, part political drama with POV characters from all seven Great Clans; it really stretched me far beyond my literary comfort zone. Whether I actually pulled it off remains to be seen, but I’m genuinely proud of how the novel turned out.

Honestly, I was quite humbled that Fantasy Flight trusted me with one of the most iconic characters in the L5R setting. And while they had plenty of notes and updates regarding the new edition, I definitely felt free to explore my own take on the immortal necromancer who has been the bane of SO many bands of adventuring samurai. While I did take a slightly different direction than previous iterations, it wouldn’t really be an Iuchiban novel without a terrible tomb full of all manner of tricks and traps.

Soul of Iuchiban is the inevitable sequel, tying up all the loose threads from the first novel (which ends on something of a cliffhanger), and brings our unwilling heroes into a final confrontation with the fate of Rokugan and the Hantei dynasty hanging in the balance (of course).

Again, my lovely editor Lottie Llewellyn-Wells and the fine folks at Fantasy Flight were absolute aces during my pitch sessions. Not only did they provide truly excellent feedback on my more wild ideas, they helped sharpen my plot and characters in fun ways. I was particularly excited to delve into the intricacies of name magic, particularly the power of names (both mortal and spiritual); and how they underpinned Iuchiban’s dark schemes for Rokugan.

I’d be a poor author indeed if I didn’t acknowledge my intellectual debts—not only to the incredibly rich L5R setting, but also my academic studies in East Asian History (particularly Japan). One of the focuses of my research was the role of politics, economics, and culture in the naming of “frontier” spaces. This has pretty heavily informed my previous writing (To Chart the Clouds, in particular), but it can also be seen threaded through both Iuchiban novels.

I’ve always been fascinated by maps and mapping as societal constructs. How a place name can embody not only a history, but a present, and a future—embodying and shaping all manner of expectations. Names are how we understand the world, and how we understand each other. So it was a lot of fun to be able to play with them in the context of one of my favorite fantasy settings.

I could go on for pages about this lovely nonsense, but you didn’t come here to listen to me ramble about the role of liminal geography in framing geopolitical discourse. Wow, that sounded dry even as I wrote it—and I love this stuff.

In any case, I hope you have a chance to check out my novels—both current and forthcoming. I promise they’re more interesting than my thesis.

And, as always, thank you for reading. It really means a lot.

To wit, my first novel To Chart the Clouds is now available in eBook, Paperback, and Audiobook!

I’ve had the incredible opportunity to have a couple of interviews and chats about the novel, so I won’t repeat the same things here; except to say how incredibly grateful I am to have an editor and publisher willing to indulge my academic and fantastical literary predilections.

I’ve been fascinated with Japan since middle school, when my friend dragged me to an Akira Kurosawa film festival at the local college. Neither historical films nor anime were readily accessible in the mid-90s, so I had to scrabble for all the bootleg dubs and Toonami reruns I could find.

My interest led me to study Japanese in undergrad, then to grad school, where I studied the development of cartography in non-western societies (specifically Japan). A lot of that threaded To Chart the Clouds, although hopefully it’s a bit less dry than my thesis.

My first Legend of the Five Rings RPG book was the 2^nd edition players guide. I found it at a used books store in the bargain bin, and for good reason—someone had torn off the back cover and colored over many of the illustrations with permanent marker. Still, the text was (mostly) legible, and that was good enough for me.

The first time I actually went to Japan was in the early 2000’s. This was right about when the Clan War series came out. I remember having to leave a sweater and pair of pants at home because I wanted to make sure to bring EVERY BOOK IN THE SERIES. Reading L5R, in JAPAN?! I couldn’t imagine anything cooler.

Twenty years later, I’m still reading L5R. Although I haven’t had much opportunity to actually play the game, I have a pretty respectable collection of RPG books ranging from second edition (alas, my old Player’s Guide finally fell apart in the mid-aughts) to the most current FFG books. This isn’t meant to establish my bona fides—I consider myself more of an amateur historian where L5R lore is concerned; but rather to show how lucky I’ve been to have the opportunity to write in a world that has given me so much enjoyment over the years.

Even now, I still can’t quite believe it.

Periodically, I take a copy of To Chart the Clouds down from my bookshelf and just hold it. Mostly to assure myself it’s real, that I actually wrote it, and it actually got published. There really aren’t words to describe how simultaneously delightful and humbling it is; not to mention how grateful I am that both my editor and Aconyte took a chance on a quirky novel about Rokugani cartography.

But my current output isn’t why I’ve blown the digital dust off this creaky old website. Rather I come unto you with hard, cold data, dollars and cents, the big payola, crinklebills, nightmare tickets, pure uncut cheques, the fortunate wind, trade slips, bartercoin, all that jazz.

I’m speaking, of course, of my writing income.

For those (few) of you who have been following my career. The intent of these posts is to provide a view from the middle of the literary pack. While I cannot claim to have reached the rarefied literary heights of such luminaries as Cameron Hurley, John Scalzi, and Jim C. Hines (all of whom also post about their income); I nonetheless have the supreme good fortune to have actually made money writing.

I consider myself firmly in the ranks of the semi-pro authors in that I: 1) Have a day job; 2) Have managed to monetize my writing hobby, and; 3) Could not afford to live on my fiction receipts. Even so, I’m hoping this “view from the middle” might be of use to folks planning on getting into genre fiction.
So, without further adieu:

 
 
2020 Breakdown

 
Overall, 2020 was a good year (literarily speaking). I had three commissions: one for a short story, one novella, and one novel. The novel carried over into 2021, but ate up most of the last few months of 2020. I also managed to eke out around 6 flash pieces (none of which sold), and four longer stories (two of which sold). From a financial standpoint, I’ve only received payments on the commissioned novella and two short stories, but that’s sort of the nature of the beast.
I did however receive the balance on a visual media option from a few years back, so that pushed my secondary rights income to untold heights (normally it hovers around $50-100 or so). I kept up my various memberships and subscriptions throughout the year, but my expenses were relatively low being that I attended approximately zero conventions (and for good reason).

Year-Over-Year Breakdown

Although 2020 wasn’t my best year, it was pretty close--well, actually equally close to best and worst being that it’s the median over the six years I’ve done this. If not for the visual media payment, it would’ve been much lower (about $2.4K lower, to be exact). But as I’ve said before, writing income tends to lag quite a bit. This total doesn’t quite reflect my 2020 output, but rather the output of previous years as I find homes for older pieces, or receive payments in arrears.     

So there you have it. My luck holds for another year. I know one of these days the payments will peter out, but I’ll probably keep writing long after that. In the meantime, I’m just grateful.

In conclusion, I’ll leave you with the same advice I do every year: If you want to write, great! Just make sure you have a day job to pay the bills.

Quarantine has been rough on us all to varying degrees, and having to balance childcare, with work, life, friendships, etc. has left precious little time for writing. At the beginning of this all I gave myself permission to not feel guilty about not producing any new fiction. As expected, it didn’t work.

I feel guilty as hell.

I suppose that’s one of the risk of tying self-worth to productivity. But I’m not here to tell you things you already know, I’m to brush the digital dust off this website and start updating it on a (semi) regular basis again. I’m sure all eight of my followers will approve.

To start this off I’ve got news about two of my stories that recently hit the e-publications--then I’ll end with news of a series of posts I’ve planned on doing, but never quite gotten around to writing. The idea being to weaponized my crippling sense of obligation to force myself to write something, anything.

So, here we go, I guess…

"Valley of the Fallen" by Alexey Shugurov

Firstly, my story: “The Transubstantiation” appeared in the mid-August issue of Beneath Ceaseless Skies. It’s a grimdark military fantasy adjacent piece about a ragtag band of “Glory Hounds” who hunt heroes and carve them up for magical parts. Also there are bloody battles, giants, desperate struggles, and all sorts of darkly textured political drama.

I wrote this piece last year partly to articulate the disaffection (and disappointment) I feel regarding national politics, and partly as a rumination on revolutions and how they’re not done even when they’re “done”. I also wanted to tease out narratives of misrepresentation and bias that I felt were particularly relevant in an era where you have to view everything through a critical lens--especially with the November election weighing heavily on everyone’s thoughts, not to mention what (if any) positive concrete changes a Democratic “win” would bring.

Anyway, I hope the story isn’t as heavy-handed as my explanation of my thought-process.

"Rice Terraces" by Ferdinand Ladera

Secondly, my story: “The Duty of Birds” appeared in the flagship issue of The Year After. It’s a historical fantasy set in mid-19^th century Japan during the Bakumatsu period. Like “Transubstantiation” this one is also about national upheavel--although more as a backdrop. It really centers on the relationship between three generations of women (well, actually spider women) and how they weather the changing political landscape as Japan “embraces modernity”.

I wrote this piece several years ago as a challenge. I’d been reading a lot of Japanese fiction and history, and really got into the idea of crafting a story that was a set of nested shikotenketsu. I’m not sure exactly how well I pulled that aspect off, but I’m pretty proud of the end result regardless.

Portrait of the Author as a Young(er) ManLastly, I’ve long considered writing a series of posts about tabletop roleplaying games. I write genre fiction, sure…but the reason I was put on this earth was to RUN GAMES. I still remember my first D&D book; picked up off the racks of a used book store in the early 90’s it had no cover and someone had colored in all the pictures with marker. Still, it was the greatest thing I’d ever seen in my whole damn life. I started running for my friends and family shortly after and have never looked back.

The series I’ve always wanted to write is: “Gaming 201”. Y’know, there are a lot of posts, videos, podcasts, blogs, etc directed toward basic Gamemastering--but apart from esoteric stuff I haven’t found much that bridge the gap between fundamentals and academic game theory. These will be more an exercise in keeping my writing skills sharp by talking about something that I love, as opposed to LET ME TELL YOU HOW TO PLAY GAMES GOOD--style articles.  

I don’t know how many there will be, but I’ve got ideas for at least a half-dozen. So…well…maybe a half-dozen? In any case, my plan is to keep them to a few hundred words so that you all don’t feel like your time has been wasted.

Anyway, I’m sure a lot of you out there have been gaming longer, and know a lot more than I do. Please contact me, I’d love to hear about your tricks and tips. Seriously.

Seriously.

Until then, I hope you all find ways to stay healthy, solvent, and fulfilled in these troubling, troubling times.

I think a lot of would-be authors are faced with this sort of either/or proposition. Yes, there are people who make their livelihood selling fiction, but it's not until you start going to conventions and talking with colleagues that you begin to realize most of us can't live on what we make as authors.

Put more bluntly, there are many more of me out there than there are Neil Gaimans or Connie Willises.

Don't get me wrong, I've done quite well, and I'm both proud and humbled that so many of my stories have found safe, loving homes out in the wide world. I'm a lucky, lucky guy. I can certainly call myself "successful" inasmuch as I defined success when I began writing--namely that the hobby pay for itself, which it seems to have done. I think I can also say with reasonable confidence that I am solidly amidst the ranks of the semi-pro authors (i.e. people who make money writing).

Since I already track my writing income for tax purposes (something you should seriously consider doing if you make more than a couple hundred dollars a year), I resolved to post it to my personal site so that you can get a view from the lower-middle of the authorial heap:

Not my best year, but far from my worst. Although I didn't make as recent years (see below), I've gotten better at controlling expenses, and only had time to attend one convention this year. Next, we'll dive into yearly income since I started actively tracking it in 2016:

If you take awayone thing from the table above it should be how wildly writing income can fluctuate year-over-year. I got incredibly lucky in 2017 and 2018, landing a big secondary rights deal as well as beginning the first of my Black Library work.

In any case, I hope you find this useful.