Update from LO-LO Keys. No? Not a good nickname? Fine you bloody ingrates—I WROTE A NEW BOOK


I’ll get to it but first let me give you ear blisters.

(waves hand at new updated banner)

I came out of my leaky basement for a quick bloggy blog. No, I haven’t been down there finishing a masterpiece, but rather starting four new stories and cobbling together what I hope will be something that tomorrow I won’t chew my arm off to get away from in its early draft coyote ugly style…

Anyway, I’ve been catching up on various pieces of literature.

I tried to read Fahrenheit 4hundred something-something but failed. And I mean miserably. Falling asleep on such a lovely book is pathetic. I know it. You know it. But whatevs.

(Fixes glasses)

I’ve read Indies Sunniva Dee’s Shattering Halos and Mark Capell’s Edyl – Island of Immortality and gave them both raving reviews. Kudos gent and lady for beating out a classic for first prize 😀

I then read Me before You and cried…a lot. (story about a quadriplegic bitter and sweet) Not recommended if you don’t like to mourn over fictional people or actually like to keep your mascara on the eyelash.

I’ve also been listening to the audio of CS Lewis’ Mere Christianity. (Love the part about the laws of Human/Nature. He truly is a genius) And as you can see by my blog title I speak purely like a Brit now.(pinky up)

I’ve watched the entire first season of Under the Dome while eating cookies. Literally the entire thing in one sitting. Literally eating cookies until each box was lovingly tossed into the trash amid the pile of the other cookie boxes.

My toddler’s favorite word now…? Cookie.

I’ve finished an entire additional novel now.
Oh, I didn’t tell you that part?
My second novel is done.

I mean done as in written on the backs and sides of cookie boxes but first drafts are bloody incorrigible anyway, right? So. Yes. First draft at roughly 80k and I say rough as in truly rough because I may or may not have eaten a few scenes accidentally penned on my nappy kin.

My YA novel previously called Genesis is now “the gods of Anthem”. (Two snaps in a circle) Cause I love this new name and it makes sense on two levels because…you’ll have to read it. No spoilers to be had here so move along Ralph the ‘I have no will power so I read every spoiler’ guy.

Around here we call this new partially formed monster of a book GOA. Feel free to be like, “Hey Logan how’s GOA comin’?”

And I’ll be all like. “It’s good. Or rather —Well, it’s well.” cause I’m British now.
You guys know I still love you all, right? RIGHT?

I just have to do soul searching (dusts crumbs off lap) in between all your fabulous social networking skills of which you seemingly put me into a stupor as to where I then forget to do anything besides sit here before moving to the cookie seat and the boob tube to then be in a stupor again.

It’s simple really. I love to LOVE TO write. And talk. I can talk forever about writing.
And then sing. I can sing forever about talking about loving to write.

And dance. I can tap dance and sing simultaneously about talking about loving to write.
But then. Who is going to eat all these cookies?

I mean (cough) write this novel?

If you are wondering if I’m the type of writer who loves to talk about “their book” and never publish…well don’t be an idiot. Of course I’m that type of writer. I know people publishing books who are still that writer. I’m just excellent at it so that you (moves magic hands like a jedi) never really notice how I never finish a single thing.

Cover reveal at some point in the soon future 😀


Unfortunately we have to decline your story “Dark and Dreary”… !!!!!My release is out!!!!!

One of my first in depth declinations, I was told that my story was depressing and why would I think they’d want to publish that type of thing in their magazine?

This press is known for dark stories, but I suppose I had gone beyond dark and horror into the realm of sad.

But sad stories need love too!

The truth was I’d received about 20 rejections for “Vile” and a few others after my very first submission “Ever-after” was accepted right away…

Thinking it was all easy street after, euphoric, I told my family and friends, since this was the first piece outside of a competition to be published but then only later to be really REALLY unable to land much of anything else for a long-long while.

Sniff sniff.

Then came “Snowed”, my first story in _UNHINGED_ . I wrote it and posted it in a small hothouse where we all reviewed eachother’s work and submitted. A writer on there, who I respected but who also hadn’t much to say about my stories, read this one and commented along the lines of “I couldn’t stop reading. I had to know what happened!”

Being my first short story over 5000 words and hearing that someone “couldn’t stop reading” I suddenly knew what was more important than denials and lectures about depression, this exactly: People have to not want to stop reading.

SOOOOoooo you are thinking.. I submitted it and got right in?

And you would be right! Jussstt kidding.

I tried thriller since it’s a mix of horror/thriller and they decided thriller didn’t quite fit their magazine but the guy said to me “Hey btw, we all read it here and were on the edge of our seats.”

Again. That’s important. And even then I knew it. I knew that stringing a reader along would be far more important than publications even if I felt like my skin was pealing back a bit at the rawness of it all.

Though it still stung, I packed my baby away and have been editing the story off and on for about five years…until this debut that is ;)D


Readers are most important.

AND SO (drum roll please)

..with the release of my very first self-publication (a very special shout out to the people that helped below) (raises-glass) here is to the readers!

May we put them on the edge of their seats forever!


A very special thanks to a few people who helped make this possible!

Mike Coombes for helping me get started on my shorts and believing in me back in our hothouse days where I wrote most of these!

Alianne Donnelly for the cover and moral support of yet another side project!

Kimberly Grenfell for some super ninja edits!

J Matthew McKern for ARC and my first five stars!

And Jim Adams for a review I will NEVER forget that kicked me off with inspiration and a goal to make the next one even better!

If you want to have “the time of your life” watch Dirty Dancing… Also avoid becoming a writer


Suuuuuuuure, B

Writing is fun! For like FIVE minutes. But after some time on a novel, like real time and not a monthish period of excited word vomit where you splurge your every thought into 200 pages like you have the flu – you suddenly see the sinister black lining.

Sometimes it makes you so high you can write a million pages and then jog five miles in glee singing “Weeeee are the champions my freee – eeends!”. While other lower moments you wanna take that same five mile jog off a quarter mile cliff.

You are told to write with your heart and so you do. Like an idiot. THEN someone comes along and says you need surgery cause your heart is really really lame, boring, it sucks, what a floppy heart. (Will somebody PLEASE get me a thesaurus)

So we come to lesson number one of my made up lessons that I made up and are also mine: People are full of crap.


Especially writers.

Pure unadulterated crap. Cuuuurrraaaaap.

Your friends and their attempts to cheer you? Crap. Your family and their flip little comments “Gee hun, that’s nice.” having no clue how much time you spent on an idea they just brushed off to tell you about this one time at band camp when they thought about writing… Like I said… Crap. Bookfacers? Crap. That guy at the store who you accidentally told you were an author to who spent five minutes of your life explaining his book and how he is going to write it “someday”. TOTAL CRAP!

Don’t get me started on editors who make you suddenly act like the staff holding Gandolf “You shall not pass!”. They give you “rules” about how to start a book, cut it back, add to it, and is this a “dream sequence”???? So last year! You can’t use prose like that! You need to stop trying to be so colorful. Stop being so blunt, blah blah blah, are you listening to me, Logan? Why do you have that look on your face? Is that— Is THAT A GUN!

And what is WITH this “muse thing”? You see everyone running around showing “muse” pictures. Little sexy muse guys and gals all dolled up, some with little quotes, “Hey there sexy girl. Write me a story and I’ll strip.” Or maybe that was just Sidda?
Anyway, CRAP!

Giving ideas to “jog” the muse as if he/she were Best in Show (Ha! John I stole that from ya.) When in reality YOUR situation is a bit closer to the Predator and YOUR muse slathers mud across their body Schwarzenegger style to stay away from you… With that same lovely stilted dialogue.

“But Logan, life is like a box of chocolates!”

No it ain’t you made up voice from one of my made up fans. It’s a box of dynamite. Add in some bits of cyanide for a slow death… but the poison tastes like chocolate. (nods)

Look. You wanna talk Tom Hanks? Fine.

Think less about Forest Gump and his magic shooo-oooeees and think more about Cast Away.

Yeah, uh huh. YOU are on an Island. No matter HOW much help you think you are getting YOU have to write, fix, make, create, be sick, feel good, cry, bleed, through this BY YOURself.

You WILL think you are losing your mind in the first few months. You WILL actually lose it by a year. And you will not even know you have lost a thing by three.
You WILL befriend inanimate objects like Tom. Talk to yourself, use prose in and out of dialogue, and become “Wordy” (thanks Sunniva;))

You WILL lose faith in your “friend” and throw Wilson into the ocean.

“Willllllllllllsooooooooooon! Willllllllllllsoooooooooooon!” I still tear up every time.

Then you will get him back and say you are sorry and never ever piss him off again. Ever. (Looks lovingly at her own beach ball. What? They were out of soccer stuff, it’s seasonal…)

Look. (Where is Alianne at? I mean I’ve used “look” like twice in a paragraph!) Look<<< (three!).

This marriage between you and your story is less Romeo and Juliet… Wait… No… It is EXACTLY that. Everyone dies at the end…

For you young ones needing a contemporary setting: Sexy young couple goes out, she shaves her legs, he gives her the good covered parking spots. Voila: Love.

Marriage ensues. But when the honeymoon is over, she is hairy with a dirty car, and he is paunchy because he parks in the closest spot he can find, “Shut up, Marge! It will fit!”. They argue over fish stick dinners and watch Jeopardy, “Hank! How do you ALWAYS guess these? I mean, really? Bengal Tigers with only the S on there? Come on!”

For all of the pamphlets on faceplanet that say “Writing is work” you’ll find exactly as many that say “Writing should be easy”. (Crap!)

Art is easy? Yeah, mmmm hmmm, and I’m a natural blond.
Get off your rocker writerdome. It’s a tough racket and you better stiff that lip and nose that grindstone or whatever other euphemisms I can mess up because this ain’t your grandmother’s book club!

And what IS the first rule of book club?
I can’t hear you!
What is the first rule of book club!!!!!!

We don’t talk about book club unless it is to say that we are foofy artists who don’t really do any work (wink wink).

The writer of today looks a lot less like the olden times, quill in hand and ruffled sleeves coming out of a felt jacket. He/she better be a Rambo freaking Picasso, wearing Shakespeare’s hat and quoting Stephen King characters like a bad case of terrets, and if you don’t write your heart out to the point that your family calls the priest for an exorcism (the old one not these lame copies) you ain’t got what it takes!

If you think it’s all bunnies and Zen bubbles… Hit the road jack… with one headlight.


Sum of me pals





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