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.
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.