Good morning, Readers!

After some pretty devastating to me news yesterday, I'm really glad that last night was streaming night.  I always feel better when I stream, thanks largely to awesome friends who join in and have fun with me (read here: watch me die).

Last week, I posted about needing help with names.  Well, I have some good news and bad news.  The good news is that I came up with a couple of good names during the stream last night, and then more as I was lying in bed, falling asleep.  The bad news is that I've acquired more pets.

Ahem.

Anyway, I'd like to introduce you to Lady:

She's so sweet, and has thus far been my longest companion.  I love her very much, and kinda want to curl up with her when I sleep.  I acquired her name when she came running to me, and I greeted her, "Hello, lady!"  It stuck.  Lady seems like such a perfect name for her.

The second name I came up with on the fly belongs to my newest pet, a sabre tooth cat.  Say hello to Buddy, everyone:

Buddy got his name the same way Lady did.  He came running, and I said, "Hey, Buddy!" and then lightning struck twice.  Buddy was the perfect name.

The other animals did not get names during the stream.  I did ask for names during the stream for these animals, and someone suggested 'Tramp' (Get it? Lady and the Tramp) for the other cave lion, which was tempting, but it didn't feel quite right for him.  So, as I was falling asleep, I thought of my dhole, and decided that Tramp would be the perfect name for him. At the same moment, I also hit on a name for my new rare black dhole.

This is Tramp and Dodger, everyone:

It suits, no?

As for the rare black cave lion, I also come up with his name as I was falling asleep.  Everyone, this is Ash:

So, four out of six of my pets now have names.  I still need names for a white wolf and a jaguar.  If you have any suggestions, I'm open to hearing them.

Thanks to PoeticProphetess for the name Tramp, even if it went to my dhole instead of my black cave lion.  And now I have to go do things with videos.

​Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

I'm over at Black Gate Magazine today, talking about the transformation Kratos undergoes, and how we conceptualise masculine heroes is changing.

On occasion, I review video games for the site chalgyr.com. It’s really just a small thing I do every so often, when I’ve finished playing a game.  Currently, I’m working my way through Far Cry Primal, and enjoying it immensely. Not too long ago, though, I played through the latest iteration of God of War. I enjoyed the older God of War games on a very surface level. I moved my avatar, rage-incarnate, Kratos, across the screen and used him to utterly obliterate my enemies. I felt nothing for Kratos, and despite cut scenes that were designed to make him at least a little sympathetic, I wasn’t particularly attached to his story. There is nothing compelling or appealing about the embodiment of toxic rage. I played for the mayhem and the silly fun.

Then came old man Kratos and his son, and everything changed.

Good morning, Readers!

Today is a short one, because I have a tonne of work to do today - four videos to edit and a blog post for Black Gate Magazine to write.  I'm returning to the latest iteration of God of War for that one, and it's an involved piece, so it'll take me a while, I think.

Anyway, as most of you know, I adore music.  All kinds of music.  I am particularly partial to music that includes folk elements from various cultures.  I listen to Arkona, a Russian metal group, for this reason. I don't understand a word of it, but the music is good.  I've also gotten quite into The Hu (which, the name itself is fantastic), a Mongolian metal group, for the same reason.  They've recently release a new song, The Great Chinggis Khaan​, that I am currently obsessed with.  Here it is:

A friend of mine sent me the link to another group, this one a Kazakh pop group, whose name I cannot read (sorry!), this morning.  This was one of the suggestions that popped up for him after watching the above video on YouTube.  I also don't understand a word, but the music is good.  Plus, you know, women in armour 'n stuff.

Right, I do have to go now and get to work.

Enjoy the music and feel free to share more in the comments!

​Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

I didn't write any of my manuscript yesterday.  I was busy writing my blog post on Kratos for Black Gate Magazine.  I fell asleep last night plagued by a paragraph that I failed to put into that piece, but it works well enough without.

Today will be focussed on editing videos, so there will not be more writing today, either.

Le sigh.  I suppose it's a good thing, as it'll give my brain some time to simmer what I had wanted to write until I'm done with all the video stuff.  The brain needs a few good simmers every so often.  Not that I need this particular break.  I was doing really well with the whole writing thing before the latest streams of my Nights at the Round Table podcast needed to be edited together.  I passed the halfway mark.  That's fifty thousand words.  I'm rather pleased with the progress, actually, and am chaffing at the stalling required in order to get these new episodes out into the world.

But that's unavoidable.  In fact, I've been editing the first of the videos as I've been writing this, and it's about time I stopped trying to do two things at once and concentrate on one thing.  Editing.

My brain is a little scattered this morning.

Anyway, I'm off to do things and stuff.  Have a good day.

​Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

Still a bit sad, but feeling better after streaming last night.  I managed to surpass my one thousand word goal and hit two thousand words again yesterday.  I'm pretty pleased with myself, really.  Then, of course, I streamed.

Honestly, I'm still floundering my way through Far Cry Primal, but it's a really fun game, and the story has my undivided attention.  I love stories set in humanity's murky ancient roots, and running around the world with Homo Neanderthalensis, and now some folks who look like a different group of Homo Sapiens and paint themselves blue, is kinda my idea of heaven.  I revel in this environment, even though I'm often ambushed by sabre-toothed cats and it scares the bejeebus out of me.

Also, I have a pet lion, and she's lovely.

WHICH, I have a white wolf, a white cave lion, a dhole, and a jaguar that all require names.

Aren't they cute?

Currently, I'm travelling with the cave lion the most, because I love her.  The jaguar reminds me so much of Galahad.  When I stopped moving after taming it, the flopped down onto its side and lay exactly like Galahad does.  I haven't travelled with her yet, though.  The dhole is a weird puppy hyena thing, and makes sounds very similar to a laughing hyena.  When I'm not moving, it digs stuff up for me.  It's cute.  My wolf is the first one I tamed, and he's very sweet.

But yeah, the cave lion has my heart currently; not least of all because she went head to head with a sabre-tooth on my behalf last night, and very nearly died because of it.

Anyway, help me name them.  All suggestions welcome.

As usual, streaming improved my mood tremendously.  I love being able to muck about in other worlds while chatting to friends in the live chat.  It's kinda like having them in the living room while I game, listening to their hilarious comments at my hilarious fails.  I cannot stress enough how much I enjoy streaming.

​I have to go and do actual work now.  Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

Writing is going really well, thanks for asking.  I've blown through my weekly goal of four thousand words for the week already.  It's always nice when things work.

Yet, despite things going really well, I'm feeling really, really down.  It has a lot to do with things not going well elsewhere, particularly with passion projects of mine that I'm really struggling to maintain.  The worst thing is that the reasons for the struggle are completely out of my control, being as reliant on other people's schedules as it is.  I'm feeling quite down about it, and seriously considering giving up on it altogether.  When I'm actually doing the thing, I really enjoy it, but everything leading up to it has become a source of frustration and disappointment, and it's been that way a long time.

It also, in the long, long time I've been doing this, has not taken off as I had hoped it would, and there's very little engagement with it.  This, I think, wouldn't bother me as much as it does if everything else was much more smooth, and if I wasn't the only one excited by the project.

Last night, I gave very serious thought to ending the thing I so enjoy doing.  It made me so sad, and I'm still very sad this morning.

We'll see.

I have to keep reminding myself that it's alright to fail, that I really did try so hard to get this thing off the ground, and that some things just really are out of my control.

I still want to cry, though.  I had hoped for too much, in this case, I think.

Sometimes I feel that way about writing.  I look at all the work I've done, and how far from my goals I remain.  Part of this is actually genuinely my fault.  I'm not good at marketing.  I hate telling people about my books.  It gives me so much anxiety.  I really could be putting more effort into making my stuff known, instead of hiding in the dark and hoping they speak for themselves.

I see some authors hustling.  It really irritates me, but I'm wondering if the source of that irritation is not a little bit of jealousy that they can so readily and easily sell themselves.  I mean, I'm pretty certain that I am not fond of people trying to sell me things by way of overblown promises and stupid gimmicks, but still, I do admire their hustle and probably power through my discomfort to at least approach something like their game.

Anyway, I tend to let my mind linger on all my failings when I'm down, and should probably stop doing that.  I'll sign off now and go do some work.

But first, while I'm being salty about things, why the hell are cloaks and hoods no longer in fashion?  I find this unacceptable.  Let's bring those back, please.

Right, I'm off.  Have a good day everyone.

​Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

I totally forgot that I blogged for Black Gate Magazine last week.  So here it is today... about a week too late.  My bad.

Back in the day, just a bit before my time, creativity was once thought to be an external force. It was a supernatural intervention, the whispering of a deity in the ear of her fortunate unfortunate, compelling them to create in a fugue of mystical madness… probably. It’s likely I made that up. I have no citation.

It’s a myth that appears to have a rather oddly long life. Still to this day, people talk of creativity as if it’s some strange external thing. They do the same with talent, as if either are some kind of divine gift… or curse (some days, folks. Some days). The fact of the matter is, it’s not some strange magic. There are no spirits whispering in one’s ear, commanding creation, directing creativity.

Creativity, and talent for that matter, is a skill. It is a muscle that has been exercised relentlessly. From youth, creativity is fed on a steady supply of stories of the impossible, mind-bending images, and lots of time to ponder and play. Talent’s diet consists simply of practice. Hours and hours of practice. These things, when given freely and often in a person’s youth, creates a solid foundation for creativity.
​
This skill must be nurtured, the muscle flexed often, or it is lost. Like most things that are done in this manner, creativity as part of a routine can appear effortless to the outside eye. No one really sees the years of effort, practice and failure that goes into the effortless exertion they are witness to. The creative knows.