Greetings, friends!
Last month, I wrote about returning to wonder – a sort of vision-casting statement for the year. This month, I thought it was time for a practical, behind-the-scenes update.
What is R. A. Nelson up to these days?
~ In late 2021, I started working part-time for a tiny writing-based start-up as an administrative assistant. As the company grew, so did my role; and, in June 2022, I joined the team full-time as Project Manager . . . and Writer. My professional life now includes elements of writing — fantasy writing, at that — for a company called Heroic Story. That’s right: Heroic Story. To quote one of the many dragons in Cressida Cowell’s inimitable How to Train Your Dragon series: “Pinch me; it must be my birthday.”
~ I am still doing a bit of freelance editing and copywriting as opportunities arise; my time is rather limited, but I am glad to keep developing those skills and to help other people get their stories out into the world.
~ Some of you may remember a post from a few years ago wherein I told of my new-found love for The Critshow, an actual-play podcast run by a grad school buddy of my mine. In January 2022, I stepped in as the new host of one of their Patreon bonus content podcasts, Investigate the History. Every month, I get to research “the story behind the story”: all the myths and lore and settings and backgrounds the cast encounters in the main show. It’s a lot of work, but I’m learning a ton — and I get to geek out with an old friend on a regular basis. This month’s topics included the literary and cinematic significance of 2001: A Space Odyssey, the development of space horror as a genre, and our best tips for watching scary movies without actually having to SEE the movie. (Hint: peripheral vision is a mighty tool. USE IT.)
So where is Brad in all of this?
Brad is never far from my mind — the second half of each daily run is devoted to Brad-thoughts — but, more concretely:
~ As I shared here, I finished draft 1 of The Land of Fear — known around the Nelson house as Brad 2 — in August 2021. Since then, I have been typing, editing, rereading, editing, and editing some more, with crucial help from my wonderful writing group. I just sent Brad 2 out to a list of trusted beta readers and am already receiving some excellent feedback which will guide the next round of edits.
~ I thought that, at this point, I’d be leaping straight into The Land of Rest (aka Brad 3). I’ve been making notes for years; I took a swing at the first few chapters last summer; about six months ago, near the end of a LONG hike in the Catskills, I felt the “click”: that moment when a vital story-piece which has long eluded my vainly searching fingers finally falls into place. I’m excited about Brad 3. It’s gonna be great.
~ But, for now, I’m back in Brad 1. I recently sent it to a few of my colleagues, and they provided valuable feedback which has inspired me to revisit this first volume in Brad’s adventures — not to change the story, but to tighten the first half so it better matches the fun pace of the second half.
The timing has worked out beautifully: I’m reacquainting myself with the beginning of Brad’s story now; then I can work my way through Brad 2 again, applying ongoing feedback from my writers group and beta readers; then I’ll be perfectly poised at the right point on the 5-book arc to dive into Brad 3.
Writing is long, slow work, my friends.
I’m not gonna lie: it can be exhausting. Every so often, I hit the proverbial wall and end up sitting in a heap, wailing in the general direction of all the gargantuan projects always floating invisibly around my head: “Why can’t you just be DONE???”
That’s usually a sign that I need to, as Eliza Hamilton so eloquently put it, “take a break.”
- Listen to an Office Ladies podcast.
- Watch an episode or two (or three, or seven) of Big Bang Theory with the hubs.
- Take the doggie boy for a walk.
- Work on that 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle. (It’s really coming along, actually.)
- Try out a new cake recipe. (Bonus points if accompanied by dancing wildly around the kitchen to Panic! at the Disco.)
- Read a poem by Madeleine L’Engle, or Gerard Manley Hopkins, or T. S. Eliot.
Or – perhaps – find a book that reminds you of the kind of artist you want to be, and why, and that you are not alone.
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For me, that book (most recently) was Lifting the Veil: Imagination and the Kingdom of God by Malcolm Guite. I wrote a sonnet about it. I share it with you below.
Courage, dear hearts. Don’t leave the wardrobe yet.
Lines in Response to Malcolm Guite’s Lifting the Veil
O may I be a lifter of the veil
Or one in whom the Word may filter through
Now bright, then luminous, and sometimes pale—
Whatever serves to show the dark untrue
O may I be a lamppost in the wood
Beckoning beyond the wardrobe door
Reflecting back the fast-approaching good
Soft, steadfast echo of the Lamb’s sweet roar
O may I be a gull beside the sea
Awakening the ache in every heart
To sail into the Song—to wander free
Where beauty reigns, and each may find their part
O may I be a minstrel in Your sight
Clear vessel of Your present, coming light
Amazing, Ruth
Love this, Ruth. I share your longing in the poem.