Today’s update has nothing to do with my writing or even any of the myriad social justice issues that currently have our world burning to the ground.
I want to talk for a minute about Network TV and how they keep cancelling everything I like after a season, or sometimes even half a season.
Yes, I get it, viewership is declining and has been for years for a myriad of reasons like cord cutting, preference for on-demand content, etc. However, I feel like at this point, the short shelf life that most networks give their shows is a huge part of the problem. They are shooting themselves in the proverbial foot here.
I never want to give new shows a chance anymore. What’s the point?
I’m sick and tired of getting invested in shows with amazing plotlines and fantastic actors, only to have them cancel after a season or two.
Look, I get it. We live in a fast paced world of rapidly shifting attention. TikTok videos and 280 character tweets (or whatever we call them now). I suppose the theory is that if you don’t grab a huge share of viewers right away, pivot to something else.
The problem is, these shows aren’t being given the time to build a fan base. And I’m sick of investing in shows that I know are going to end on a bunch of cliff hangers and never come back.
Some of my favorite shows I discovered in season five or six. I went back and binged to get caught up, then became a faithful viewer. With ER, that looked like me watching reruns until I got caught up. With Grey’s Anatomy, it was me streaming three episodes a day for months until I was caught up. How I Met Your Mother was another show that I came in late, went back and caught up, and then stayed until the final episode. Today’s technology should make it easy to keep up with the shows we love. But it’s a double edged sword.
With the advent of the VCR, then later the DVR, and eventually on demand streaming, it became easier than ever to watch what you wanted when you wanted.
The problem is, they don’t count those views.
Don’t get me wrong, they do count live plus three days, live plus seven, etc. But what really counts for selling ad time is the live plus three. And ad revenue is a large part of what drives decisions about what to renew and what to cancel.
I watch almost nothing within the first three days of recording it. That doesn’t mean I’m not invested in it. It just means life is busy. I enjoy letting several episodes pile up so when I do have some downtime, I can binge several episodes in a row. I can love a show, but it will never show up in the ratings because I’m not rushing home or staying up late to make sure I get my views in within the three day time frame.
I guess that makes me part of the problem. But why should I schedule my entire life around what time a show comes on? They gave us all these fabulous things, like on demand and DVR recordings, specifically to draw the viewer in and give you more chances to watch a show, but then they count it against you when it comes time to renew your favorite shows.
I know it’s all subjective. What I like might not be what someone else likes, but so many shows in the past gained and grew audiences over time. Today, shows never get that chance. I’m sick and tired of getting invested in shows with amazing plotlines and fantastic actors, only to have them cancel after a season or two. Whiskey Cavalier, Stumptown, and Prodigal Son, to name just a few.
I just found The Bondsman, but now it’s cancelled after one season. Found was one of the best shows out there, having a very unique storyline, but it was cancelled after just two seasons, and now it looks like Dr. Odyssey will be cancelled after just one. These were all shows that pushed outside the box. I guess another iteration of 911 is safer for the network, but it’s also boring. I love 911, don’t get me wrong, but there are several similar shows already, and I don’t feel the need to add another one to my watch list.
I see nothing new coming up that feels as interesting as the shows that were cancelled. Found wasn’t even canceled for another show, but to make room for more sports programming.
There’s no point to this post other than my profound disappointment in the continuing decline of quality TV. Don’t even get me started on how many “new” movies are remakes. All is not lost, though. We still have books to read.
LGBTQ rights are under attack across the nation. The ACLU is currently tracking 89 anti-LGBTQ bills in Texas alone. These bills include barring access to healthcare, strict definitions of gender, and, of course, the infamous bathroom bill. Bans on places trans people can exist in public, censorship in curriculum, and on free expression (a clear attack on the First Amendment), and bills forcing teachers to out LGBTQ students.
Don’t forget that up to 1,000 dedicated members of our nation’s military are being separated from service after years of hard work and dedication, simply for being who they are. This is straight up discrimination, no matter how you slice it.
It’s not all bad news, though. There is pushback. The Puerto Rican Supreme Court just ruled against discrimination, granting nonbinary people the right to use the X marker on their birth certificates.
The number of Americans who think politicians should NOT focus on trans issues is up, including among republicans. Fifty-seven percent of Republicans agree this isn’t an issue for political intervention. (I concur, true conservatives don’t care about your personal life and want less government intervention overall.)
In response to the current administration’s attack on the LGBTQ community, many states have enacted shield laws, enshrining protections for transgender people, their families, and their medical providers.
LGBTQ people, and yes, this includes transgender people, have always existed. Contrary to current talking points, trans people have always been here and always will. This isn’t new. It isn’t a social contagion, and your children cannot be “turned trans” because they know trans people exist.
Younger generations are much more supportive of LGTBQ rights than older ones. I really see the current atmosphere in this country surrounding these issues as an extinction burst. I think it’s really important to understand this and understand why we can’t stop pushing back against hate.
In 1991 Susan Faludi published a book called Backlash that tackles the phenomenon that happens when progress is made. Any time we take steps forward, there is always backlash against it. Her book was about women’s rights, but I think the concepts apply here.
The only answer is to hold the line.
So despite the hate, despite the current administration, despite the almost daily indignities, despite the capitulation of the billionaire class, despite all of it…. I can’t be more clear on just how important this is…. hold the fucking line.
I was 50k words into a paranormal romance novel when my youngest, and last, child arrived. I set the book aside because the baby was more important. The book could wait. I told myself I’d pick it back up in a year or two when she was older.
That was seven years ago. A lot has happened in the interim. My oldest son’s car accident. A global pandemic. A job loss.
Not one, not two, but three children becoming obsessed with volleyball thrust our entire family headfirst into the world of club sports. If you know, you know. So much traveling. So many practices. So much money.
I lost several friends, several cousins, and a father in law to death.
I had health issues. I spent two months getting weekly iron infusions.
One child came out. Family, friends, and a homeschool community were lost. I launched an online home school gay straight alliance. My oldest daughter got married. My family suffered further losses. A sister. A niece.
A second child came out.
All of my children got diagnosed with ADHD, some with Autism, and two with EDS and AMPS.
We found a new home school group. I started teaching at our co-op. There were personal struggles. My husband started a new business. I was diagnosed with POTS.
The last seven years have been…. Busy. To say the least.
Somewhere along the way my passion for writing was reignited, but for something I never saw coming: Fanfiction.
I started posting on Tumblr, not wanting to post it here. For two years I was very prolific. At one point I turned out a 110k word story in just three and half months.
I entered a writing contest at a local library and won first place for the updated version of my very first flash fiction piece.
I published a novella.
And finally, tonight, I opened my paranormal romance WiP. I did some organizing, made some notes, and plotted out the next few chapters.
It felt amazing.
Then I came here, with the urge to update this blog, for the first time in over a year.
Maybe, just maybe, I’m finally back on the track I exited seven years ago.
Prince Nicolai McKenna stood viewing blueprints as workmen in orange vests scurried around the room. His jet-black hair was just short enough to not fall in his onyx colored eyes as they poured over the plans.
“I’m glad you’re remodeling the old throne room, Nic.” His best friend Hunter was peering over his shoulder. “You know I don’t believe in all that supernatural crap, but it’s a little… creepy in here.”
Hunter’s light golden brown hair flopped down into his copper-colored eyes as he glanced around the room.
“I thought the place could use a facelift,” Nicolai replied. “Besides, what do we need two throne rooms for? I’m thinking bowling alley!”
It was a mystery why the old one had stopped being used. There was nothing structurally wrong with it, even though it was close to four hundred years old. It had been sealed off and forgotten three centuries ago.
“Hey, guys, there you are!” a voice called from the doorway. “They told me I could find you in here. I got here early for the Ambassador’s Ball tonight, I thought we could grab some lunch!”
Nicolai turned to greet his new guest. “Hey, Rex. Come on in.”
Reginald Thatcher – Rex to his friends – hesitated at the threshold as his cobalt blue eyes swept the room. Dark, and dank, the smell of mildew permeated the air. Dingy stone floors stretched from wall to wall. Tall, stained-glass windows threw long, reddened shadows across the dim interior. The ceiling rose upwards three stories, with huge, exposed wooden beams. Candle chandeliers hung from the ceiling along the length of the room. Two thrones sat at the far end of the room on a raised dais, burnished gold gleaming dully in the deepening gloom. A chill crawled down his spine as he took in the murky interior, inky blackness coalescing in the corners, glimmering, almost breathing.
“N-No thanks.” He stepped back over the threshold, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as goosebumps erupted all over his body.
“What’s up with him?” Hunter frowned.
Nicolai shrugged. “Don’t know. But come on. Let’s go get some lunch!”
Hunter exited the room first. Nicolai followed behind him. As he reached the doorframe, he felt something brush the back of his neck. Like a lover’s soft exhale. He spun back toward the interior, peering into the gloom. Nothing but an empty room greeted him. He glanced up at the ceiling. A draft was getting in somewhere.
“You coming, Nic?” Hunter called. He and Rex were already halfway down the hall.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” He hurried through the doorway, sure that he heard a faint voice whisper his name. He dismissed it as a combination of stress and lack of adequate sleep.
Though he had been destined for the throne since the day of his birth, his father had largely neglected to adequately prepare him for it, but then he had neglected to be much of a father at all.
Now that the king was preparing to retire from public service, years sooner than expected, the young prince was struggling to get up to speed.
Late nights and long meetings were catching up with him, he decided, that was all.
The construction crew went to work with the demolition of what appeared to be a completely pointless wall protruding from the original stone on the north wall as soon as Nicolai and his friends left.
Four hours later, construction paused as a hole in the wall revealed a horrifying secret. A body. The clothes mostly rotted away, clinging to remnants of bone.
The crew stood around as the medical team swarmed the room. “We’re going to need to slowly remove the rest of this wall so we can get the skeleton out intact.”
“How old do you think it is?” the foreman asked.
“Hard to say until we can get a better look at it,” the medical examiner told him. “But this room has been sealed up for centuries, right?”
“Yeah. What’s really weird is how dry it is inside this wall,” he said as his gaze fell on the glistening dampness of the stone floor. The wall itself was incongruous with the rest of the room. The other three walls were still just the original stone. It’s why Nicolai had ordered it torn out.
“We’ll have to be careful not to damage the skeleton. It will be slow going. We’ll start in the morning!” the foreman replied before turning to his crew and shooing them out. They had already been dismissed for the day, but everyone had stuck around to gawk at the gruesome discovery.
The men filtered out of the room and the door was pulled closed for the night.
The sun went down. Darkness spilled across the stone.
In the deep quiet stillness of the night, something stirred inside the wall. It lifted and pulled away from the bundle of cloth and bone, freed from its prison at long last.
The door to the throne room slowly creaked open.
The gloominess of the old throne room was a stark contrast to what was going on down the original hallway, around the corner, and down the main corridor of the palace.
The grand ballroom was lit brightly with electric lights. Music from a live orchestra spilled out of the room and flowed down the hallways, echoing distantly down the ancient hallway.
Liquor and laughter flowed freely, handsome men in elegant tuxedos twirled beautiful women around as their dresses of fine linen, lace, tulle, and silk fanned out as they danced, vibrant colors on display.
Nelson Vandross was a little tipsy as he staggered down the grand hallway in search of a bathroom.
He’d been to the palace many times, but a bit too much champagne had him turned around. He was standing at the wrong end of the hallway, the one that intersected with the hall leading to the older parts of the palace.
He corrected his course, ready to head back toward the bathrooms when he heard his name.
“Nelson….” A woman’s voice, soft and pleasing, tempting, alluring.
He shivered as a sliver of desire pulled through him.
The voice called again, and he corrected course again, stumbling down the four hundred year old hallway toward the enticing sound.
***
Nicolai stood at the bar, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. The bourbon helped. He threw back his third or fourth glass of the night.
Sleep had become an elusive thing since his father had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease, ensuring the weight of the crown would be thrust upon him much sooner than expected. Perhaps tonight the alcohol would help.
He glanced at his watch. It was late, the ball was winding down. He said his goodbyes to the guests, waiting for the ballroom to empty before heading up to bed. He made his way through the darkened palace halls alone. Hunter lived at the palace, in the wing that housed the royal guards, and they would often walk back to their rooms together, but Hunter had disappeared with the daughter of a count an hour ago.
“Nicolai….”
He froze as he heard his name. He glanced up and down the hallway in confusion. “Hello?”
No one answered. He shrugged it off and continued his trek toward the royal chambers.
He showered and changed, but sleep was still elusive. He poured himself another tumbler of bourbon and pulled open the ornate French doors of his balcony, letting the cold winter air waft into the room. He stepped onto the stone veranda and his gaze turned toward the tower that housed the old throne room. It was in the north wing of the palace, visible from his vantage point. His gaze fixed on it. He felt a pull toward it, an overwhelming desire to leave his room and follow the voice. Somehow, he knew that’s where it was coming from. She was calling him, and he wanted to answer.
Bourbon forgotten on the baluster, the young prince hurried back through the French doors and across his room. He threw open the door only to collide with the person on the other side. A woman with fiery red hair was standing there, hand raised to knock. “Oof!”
“Sorry, Esme! What are you doing here this late?”
Lady Esme Crassus had grown up at the palace with him and his younger brother after the death of her own parents two decades earlier.
Her father and his mother had been cousins, so the royal family had taken her in.
“I came to check on you.” She gave him a strange look, “What are you doing rushing out of your room at this hour?”
“I…I couldn’t sleep.” It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t the truth either.
“Still having trouble sleeping?” She pushed past him into the room.
“Yes.” He reluctantly shut the door with a sorrowful glance into the hallway.
“Let me fix you the Crassus nightcap special.”
“If it’s bourbon, I’ve already tried that.”
She gave him a fond smile as she shooed him into a chair. “Sit. Trust me.”
He sat. He trusted her. Esme was like a sister to him.
With her body between Nicolai and the drink cart, Esme mixed bourbon, apple cider, and seltzer. She deftly pulled a small, green vial from her pocket and dumped the contents into the drink. She stirred it all together and added a cherry before turning and handing it to Nicolai.
He took it doubtfully. “I don’t see how adding fruity shit to my bourbon is going to help, Esme. No offense.”
“None taken. Just try it. For me.”
“Fine,” he sighed. The drink went down smoothly. It was good, just the right amount of sweetness blended with a faint hint of crisp autumn apples. Warmth and contentment seeped through his body, sinking into his very bones as he sipped it. Tension eased, and stress drained away. “Damn. That is good.”
Esme pulled the royal blue comforter and sheets back and gestured to the bed. “Why don’t you lie down? I’ll get out of here and let you sleep.”
“Good idea. Thanks, Esme,” he mumbled as he crawled under the covers. Sleep pulled him quickly under as the elixir worked its magic.
Esme slipped out of his room and down the hallway, her mind spinning with a wealth of new information. An ancient evil had awakened, and with it, her memories.
***
When the construction crew entered the original throne room in the morning, another gruesome surprise awaited them. Once again construction stalled as the medical team swarmed the room. This time the body was fresh.
Nelson Vandross was dead.
“There’s not a mark on him, no blood loss, no sign of trauma at all,” the chief of palace security told Nicolai.
The news had interrupted the breakfast Nicolai had been having with Hunter and Rex.
Rex had spent the night at the palace after the ball rather than make the long drive back to his duchy, so he tagged along. “So, it’s like something just sucked the life force out of him?”
“Don’t be dramatic, Rex,” Hunter scoffed. “There will be an autopsy. He probably had an undiagnosed heart condition or something. Maybe he suffered a stroke.”
“He was awfully young for a heart attack or stroke,” Rex said doubtfully.
Nicolai had other concerns. “But what was he doing here? In this part of the palace in the first place? It makes no sense!”
“Your Highness?” A young lieutenant approached him.
“Yes?”
“Has anyone appraised you of the other body that was found?”
Nicolai blinked slowly. “What other body?”
The guardsman took them to the wall and explained the discovery that had been made the night before.
Hunter let out a low whistle. “I told you this room was creepy. Right, Rex? Rex?”
He looked around the room, but Rex was gone.
“He left the minute they said skeleton in the wall,” Nicolai chuckled. “As if a centuries old skeleton could hurt anyone. Come on, let’s go finish breakfast. There’s nothing more we can do here right now anyway.”
“Yeah,” Hunter agreed, unease spreading in his gut. “They’ll call us when they know something.”
Now Available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited. E-book and paperback versions available.
Really well written, but it will yank your heart out and stomp on it. Three childhood best friends that grew up in Mussolinis Italy and come of age just as war breaks out. The story opens with a love triangle, spans three decades and highlights what it was like to be Jewish during this time period. You will cry.
I use to look down on writing fan fiction, though I had never read any of it. I don’t know why. I guess I had some idea that it was cheating. Using characters and worlds built by others. Not creative enough maybe. I don’t know, but I didn’t see it as “real” writing. Of course it’s real writing.
I started playing Choices on Android. It’s a game but also books. You pick a story, customize your character and then read basically a graphic novel with the ability to make choices that affect outcomes. A choose your own adventure for grown ups. It was great fun until I found a series of books with an ending that didn’t satisfy me. Then I discovered the fan fiction others had written for it. I devoured it. Some I liked, some I didn’t, that’s the point. It was other peoples imaginings of alternate endings, alternate plots, or a continuation of a series that had ended. I couldn’t get enough it.
Eventually I read it all. Still, no one wrote it quite the way I would have. Finally, I gave it and wrote my own and it was so satisfying to get the outcome I would have rather had. Then I realized that fan fiction is great for exercising my writing muscles! Considering I hadn’t written anything in months, how could I poo poo anything that got me back in front of my keyboard? I really couldn’t. Still, I didn’t publish it. Still I was a little ashamed, somehow, that I had “cheated”.
However, the more I read fan fiction and saw the following it has, saw how many people are grateful for the chance to see their favorite characters again, to see the plot re-invented in a way they like perhaps even better than the original, the more I appreciated it. The more I wrote it, the more I realized that the very fact I am writing with someone else’s world and characters is what makes it such good practice! I don’t have to create all of that, I can just focus on certain things, like more (or different) character development. It made me, for the first time, understand the importance of writing an entire book and then rewriting it, something I use to feel was just so much extra work. I now understand how going back to something that is finished and seeing the holes, the things that could be more thoroughly explored let’s you add so much to the story. It’s a chance to add depth and texture, nuance.
You can add to the story by inserting things, conversations that could have happen off page but without changing the story itself, add characters thoughts about events, get a different characters point of view on something. Or, yes, you can diverge from cannon and say at this point in the story, I’d like to imagine it happened this way instead. Either way, there is still so much creative effort in it.
Writing fan fiction has also pulled me out of my comfort zone. For example, with romantic feelings and sexual tension already established, it has pushed me to write scenes of a steamier nature than I ever have before and doing so has increased my comfort and confidence in writing those types of interactions. It has let me explore writing in first and third person, from several points of view and omnipotent POV. With the world already established and not worrying about keeping POV consistent across my writing, it’s been an opportunity to explore and play with different writing styles.
Most importantly, it reminded me what I had forgotten. That it doesn’t matter what you write, just that you write! Writing on a regular basis, no matter what you are writing, leads to writing more in general. I have already added two new chapters to the book I am currently working on. Once I start writing, the creative juices start to flow and I get ideas for my own projects, my own worlds and characters. For that reason alone, I am thankful that I discovered it. Right now, it’s all on tumblr, but I plan to add a section for it here, now that I no longer see it as cheating.
Life is a journey. A journey that never ends. One that is always moving forward. My journey is filled with its ups, it's downs, bumps in the road and a great many obstacles. It is here, in this moment that I wish to be open and vulnerable with all of you.
Angela Harrison 