Falling Stars…

For this edition of telling it like it is Tuesday, I’m sitting on my front porch, watching the dark clouds and rain roll in. Listening to the wind rustle the trees, I can’t help but think of the winds of change sweeping across other aspects of my life as well. This month has been a rollercoaster ride. It’s charging ahead full speed and showing no signs of slowing down.

I can’t say I’ve always dreamed of being published. When I was little, I was haunted by dark, repetitive dreams. I think they skewered my desires. I can still remember the feeling of roaming through those darkened tunnels, looking at the shrouded figures hanging overhead. I sensed danger, yes, but there was a stronger sense of being home. Strange, eh?

So instead of dreaming about publishing, as many writers claim they did from the time they could talk, I had a more twisted vision of the future. I wasn’t a frilly child who yearned to be a princess or a magical fairy. I wanted to be something as dark and beautiful as the sleeping shadows in my dreams. Sure, I went through the phase of thinking it would be nice to be a teacher or a marine biologist. I even went through a phase where I wanted to play with Shamu. (I kind of still do.) But, it wasn’t until I was “published” in school that something started to tick. (Back then, it was still a distant, muffled noise.)

As a teen, I read . . . a LOT. I’d devour anything I could get my hands on. From my mom’s old bodice rippers (damn, I miss those things!) to Stephen King, nothing was off limits. Then something happened. I started to think. I started branching off into my own plots and immersing my mind in the worlds I created. I discovered fantasies.

I can honestly say, it wasn’t until I was twenty that the idea of being a writer truly stuck. By then, I couldn’t pull myself away from the places and characters now crowding my head. It was an escape, a way to experience anything I wanted . . . be anywhere I wanted, and all of this was just a few pen strokes away.

Yes, I started out writing everything longhand and still have the bump to prove it.

My first computer was a blessing. I could edit, polish, and revise without having to scrap and rewrite entire pieces of paper. Long story short, I was in love. But . . . I still had a long way to go. I spent eight long years learning the ins and outs, formulating my own voice and style, and taking in every bit of advice that I could. Some of it hurt. Some of it stung, and something left me just plain frustrated. Despite it all, I didn’t give up.

In 2009, I was published. The whole thing was really surreal. You always hear how an editor won’t come knocking on your door. They won’t find you, but that is exactly what happened. One stumbled across my story on Writing.com and asked for permission to use it. I can’t explain the high, but damn was I hooked.

A few more followed, along with various wins and awards along the way. Still, I was hungry for more. I was no longer content to just see my name listed alongside others. I wanted my own spot. My own line. I wanted to simply be ME.

I started and stopped numerous projects until Requiem was born. In the summer of 2010, Seir surged to life. He was a demanding, insistent muse, unlike any other I’d ever encountered. At the time, the whole concept of fallen angels and demons had not yet started to clobber the mainstream. Vampires reigned supreme (mostly those of the sparkling and kind variety *wince*)

Ours was a beautiful relationship from the start. Given my own fondness for things dark and cruel, I couldn’t help but fall in love with his biting sarcasm and, at times, dour outlook of the world. We worked well. We played well, and within a year, Requiem was done.

I’m waiting to get the edits back from my editor, and I can’t wait to unleash him upon the world. I think my beloved muse is unlike anything it’s ever seen.

In the meantime, I hope you’ll enjoy a brief glimpse into his mind and what makes him tick here on Pen of the Damned. http://penofthedamned.com/

It’s been a long and arduous journey, but my dreams are coming true . . . and soon, very soon, I’ll find myself exactly where I want to be.

~Best wishes and happy haunting~

Adriana