Here we go.
Blue Water has now reached the front of the line at Inkshares. I first want to thank you all for your patience with the lack of updates since we reached our funding goal two Novembers ago. I know that it can be frustrating not hearing any new information. Believe me, that won’t be a problem anymore. Inkshares has been in contact quite often now that it’s our turn.
Here’s a quick overview of how it’s going to go from here. Currently, the novel has gone through the preliminary copy edit. The changes have been sent to me, and I’ve gone through them all and am sending the book back with notes on the changes. After that, Blue Water’s final manuscript will be sent back to me in the first week of February. The book’s final cover for the eBooks will be done and sent to you all to check out first in March, the full cover in April.
And the big date, the day the book is available to the public: June 5, 2018.
However, you guys are the backers. If it weren’t for each and every one of you (literally, we sold just barely over the goal to make Quill), none of this would be happening. So again, I have to thank you, not just for your patience, but for believing in a first time writer and a book you’ve never read. So, you guys won’t have to wait until the publish date, your copies will be mailed or available for download a few weeks early. The goal is that you guys all check it out first and tell your friends about it before release day. So I may have to call you you again to help spread the word again. We currently have sold 263 copies, and I’ve backed off selling during the information vacuum of 2017. My third thanks to all of you is to buy the book with no information on when you’d receive it. That is a hard sell, and you guys all came though. Now, I’m going to take the next six months and start the selling again. Luckily for you, you already bought it, so I won’t bug you (although it would make a great birthday gift for everyone you know.)
So three thanks to you all. Thank you, thank you, thank you. We’ll be in touch.
Happy Monday everyone.
Just wanted to let everyone know that after a bit of hyper-focus to the point of nearly blacking out, the BLUE WATER cover has been updated. I think this is quite near what the final design will look like, but there’s always room for a couple tweaks here or there. Seeing this makes it all feel pretty real. It’s getting closer and closer to our turn at the plate.
Whaddaya think, sirs?
FROM THE BLOG DIARY OF EMILY HUNTER
Entry #15: October 3, 2013
Things are getting worse. I got home from work today, and I saw Carrot. I know she wasn’t there, but I saw her. She was standing on my kitchen table, just smiling at me with her eyes closed as usual. Like she didn’t have a care in the world, and didn’t think it odd to be standing on a kitchen table. I’d look away, and look back and she was still there. Maybe it’s lack of sleep. My nightmares are getting more frequent. I’m going to call Dr. Harper.
Entry #16: October 11, 2013
Ever have a song stuck in your head and catch yourself singing it out loud? Or just running through it in your mind. Is it ever a song that you don’t know the words to, or you only know the chorus? And it goes on for days and days. It’s the first thing your brain does when you wake up. Before you even realize you’re awake, it’s playing on a loop. It keeps you awake at night. You toss and turn and it’s there always, driving you more and more mad. That’s how this feels. Except instead of a song, it’s words, it’s ideas. And I don’t know what they are, or what they mean. I know they’re there, over and over, repeating. But they’re on the tip of my tongue, and I can’t remember them. But it feels like I’m forgetting something important.-Emily
Entry #17: November 4, 2013
I had the Living Room Dream again.
Entry #18: December 1, 2013
I’m so sorry mom. You didn’t deserve any of this.
Entry #19: December 29, 2013
My last appointment, I got in trouble for not writing more. In fact, my once a week has become once a month. I’m not sure what else to add. I hate writing. Merry Christmas.
Entry #20: February 27, 2014
Entry #14: September 19, 2013
I’m going to try to be a little less somber now. This is one of the dreams Dr. Harper wanted me to write down the next time I had it. I’ve had it for a long time. For the last few years, I have it once every couple months or so.I wake up back in my room at Sandy Shores. Only it’s different. You know how sometimes you have dreams about places that don’t look right, but you know where you are anyway? This is like that. I’m in Sandy Shores, but my room is smaller and the door doesn’t have a window (which would have been nice). And I specifically remember this feeling like I’m back, because I’m pissed at myself for screwing up and getting myself thrown back into a place like this. I told someone about all my crazy thoughts, and they threw me back in. They wrote it all down and gave it to the doctors. (I’m sure this is anxiety about therapy. Not hard to figure that one out.) Anyway, not important.So I wake up and look out the window, and there’s a forest outside. But all over the forest are these people lying down. They’re moving around and talking, but I know they’re dead somehow, and that’s their "graveyard." And Carrot is out there. She’s running through it, and I’m scared they’re going to reach up and grab her. Right before I see if she made it, all the lights go out and the hospital shakes violently as if there were a giant earthquake. The quake is over after a few seconds, and the hospital is ruined.My door is open, and I walk outside my room. The hallway is destroyed, like it just fell apart. It’s also empty. And I’m walking really carefully and quietly, because I know the devil is under the floor and if he hears me, he’s going to kill me. It’s like directly under the floor is hell. I can see it without seeing it. I just know that under the floor is fire and evil and I have to get out before the devil knows I’m awake.This is the weird(er) part. It’s at this point, the trek down the hallway, that I remember that this is a reoccurring dream. In the dream, I remember that I’ve done this before, and every time it ends the same. But I think in the dream that this time I’ll go a different way, or try something else to avoid Satan hearing me and killing me.There’s someone else here too. Someone who I want to help get away from the devil. But she’s already been seen by him and she’s running. She’s a scary old lady, and when I see her, I know she looked at the devil because her head is on fire. She runs through the hall screaming, and I try to will her to be quiet, because at this point I know he heard us, and he knows I’m up here too. But she doesn’t shut up. And she starts laughing because she knows she’s toast.None of the hallways make sense. I’m panicking now and I’m trying to find the way out, but I don’t know the way. The halls are like a maze and turn in weird places. I pass another person, another patient. She’s sleepwalking and has no idea that she’s in danger. And for some reason I feel like I have to help her, but can’t because I’m too scared. She’s carrying a dead rabbit. I don’t understand it, but I feel like she’s got the right idea. Like the dead rabbit is the key to getting out. Maybe to give to the devil, or use it as a distraction or something. I have no idea.(You know how sometimes things "feel" in dreams. Like you understand them even though logically they make no sense? My therapist suggested that the dead rabbit is Carrot, or symbolic of Carrot. And as I look back, it sort of makes sense. When I imagined Carrot as a kid, one of her favorite toys was a stuffed bunny rabbit. She always had it with her. So now this other woman is carrying a dead rabbit and walking with her eyes closed. The thing is, Carrot always "feels" a certain way, and this woman didn’t "feel" that way. Does that make sense?)So anyway this woman turns a corner and I don’t follow her. And I imagine she’s going to be mad at me for not following her.And this is where last night’s dream goes differently. This time, knowing I always die in this dream, I decide to follow her.But it ends the same.I turn the corner this time, and I am in the White Room. The room is just white. White walls, white floor, and white ceiling. In the middle is a giant skull. This thing is massive and horned, the size of a barrel. And I know it’s Satan, and I wandered into his lair. You can see the heat radiating off the skull, but the rest of the room is cold. The skull doesn’t move but it has a heartbeat. And it’s loud, and that’s how I know it’s alive and I’m about to die. I turn away from it and in the wall is a small observation window. Very very small. Just enough to look through with two eyes. And someone is looking though it at me, waiting to watch me die. A doctor, like just observing an experiment or something. I feel like he doesn’t care that I’m about to die, like I’m a test subject. Just a number. Carrot is there. Her eyes are closed as always, and I feel like she wants me to close mine too. And I’m sad, because I know it’s over. But I’m also relieved. My fucked up life is about to end, and I got out without losing control and hurting someone, or doing something wrong. (In group therapy I found a common fear among a lot of us was that we were terrified we will lose control of our actions at some point and do something horrible. You know how sometimes you can’t sleep on vacation because you are obsessing over whether or not you locked the front door of your house? It’s like that, except instead of worrying if someone is stealing your TV, you’re worried you’re going to get the electric chair for shooting up a mall.) In this way, my death feels like success, and the world will be safer and better now that I’m gone. I guess self esteem has never been my strength.My head starts to get hot, and I know the devil is behind me and about to kill me. And at this point, I’m strangely calm about it, and somehow I’m sitting relaxed, although there were no chairs in the room. I’m scared, but I just want to get it over with. The heat is awful and I can’t breathe and my skull starts to crack like glass in the back. I scream.And wake myself up screaming.It always ends like that.
Hello Blue Water followers.
Two things. One, I hope you have been enjoying the look into the past of our protagonist Emily Hunter via her blog diary. I hope I’m not spamming you guys with entries.
Secondly, and most amazingly, I am writing to you all to thank you for all you’ve done to support this book. There were times I didn’t know if I could keep this rollercoaster called "Crowdfunding" going. But you all kept me strong. And thanks to you, as of 7:00pm eastern, Blue Water has gone from a dream to a reality. I am so proud to say that because of you all, we have officially hit our Quill goal. Blue Water is going to be published. That sentence was so fun to type that I’m going to do it again.
Blue Water is going to be published.
Now, a few things to know. The funding period for Blue Water still ends November 14. Preorders for the book are still going to be sold until that date. Once that date comes, Inkshares will get in touch with me to request the manuscript. Currently the manuscript is still in a draft form, however, it’s very close to where it will be when I submit it. I have a few last changes to make before I let it loose.
After Inkshares receives the manuscript, it has to go through a process with them, before it’s released during a scheduled period. There are books ahead of mine that Inkshares will release first. It’s likely your copy of Blue Water won’t be in your hands until sometime after mid 2017.
Between now and then, please continue to follow us here, or at our website (bluewaternovel.com) or our Facebook page (facebook.com/bluewaternovel) for updates, and for more fun surprises as we get closer to our official release.
Thank you all again, I cannot wait to share this story with you. And thanks to you all, I can.
All my gratitude,Joseph
Entry #11: August 27, 2013
I didn’t write that. I didn’t go off my meds and black out again. I seriously didn’t write that. Someone is messing with me. Someone has my password or something. I changed it, so you can’t do it again asshole. Seriously, who does that? Who gets on a persons blog who obviousy has issues enough and is it and writes shit>;;;? I bet it"s those Sandy SHores assholes. They laughed atr us all the time. THey’d make videos of peple to show their friens. They thogt it was funny to watch Jack hit his head Sick fucks. I can’t get away from you. You have nothing beter to do that to fuck with me? Of cousre not, youre loser who get a life you son of a bitch all you ever do is fuck with people whell i hope it comes back on thoye ten fold assholes donet ever come near me or my family or i swear il;l kill anotherone of you wyou assholes everythine i try to get my life in order theyre is someone therye woto take it all away again everytime and they keep beating over and over theis noise why wone she open her eyes she always closes them and te she can setill see me everywhere she goes and i go and shes there allways to follow me she can’t help it they need me if i cant ehlp them they all are in nowhere its not my fault i didnt hurt anyone i never want anyone to hurt i cant help it save us save us save usOh my god. I just threw up. I’m not deleting anything. I remember starting this entry. My head is killing me. I don’t know what any of that means. I’m calling Dr. Harper now.I left a message. What the hell?! I haven’t missed my meds. I don’t know what just happened. I haven’t slept very well lately. Lots of bad dreams. I don’t know whatDr. Harper is calling back. Gotta go.
Entry #12: September 6, 2013
I got my dosage upped. The truth is, the medication isn’t always 100% effective. Like anything there are good days and bad days. Sometimes there are flare ups, so to speak. So to anyone reading, I’m okay. Thank you for any concern you may have had if any.It’s been a rough few weeks. I’m sleeping less, although it’s a little better now. The meds make me feel like shit, and now they’re heavier. I have a hard time falling asleep, but once I do, I have a hard time waking up. And to be honest, I still feel a little keyed up and shaky. It’s like being drowsy from no sleep but wired on caffeine at the same time. This is why I don’t have a boyfriend, or really many friends in general. This shit is embarrassing enough to write out sometimes. And while I accept who I am and the struggles I live with, asking someone else to do the same is a little much. It sucks, to feel like you’ll always be alone. Stuck in this little one bedroom one bathroom apartment. No one to love you but yourself. No boyfriend, no husband, no kids. I love kids, but I couldn’t dream of passing this on to them. Studies show schizophrenia to be prevalent in families, that it is passed on from parents much more frequently than can be explained by coincidence. Besides, no child deserves me as a mother.Poor me, right?Thing is, I’m not wrong. I’ve accepted it. I’ve moved past it.It’s not easy though. It feels like other people have this thing, and I have to watch. I’ve never really had many friends. I got pulled out of school after third grade. That’s a fun story. When I was in second grade, the week before summer vacation, I had a seizure in the middle of an oral report about my favorite book ("Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Mysterious Handprints." Seriously, I remember that.) In front of the whole class, I fell over, breaking Julie Dent’s diorama of some book about a vampire rabbit, and hit the ground shaking. According to the teacher I was babbling some shit about god knows what, and when I woke up, I had wet my pants. They took me to the hospital, checked me out, and said I was fine. They couldn’t explain it. And when I got back to school, my name had been changed to Emily Pisser. So, summer vacation started right after that, and then it was over in what seemed like a blink of an eye. I told my mom I didn’t want to go back to school, because the kids would make fun of me. She said they’d all have forgotten it by this point.Kids have long memories.Day one it was "Hello Pisser!" Someone would spill something on themselves and say "Hey look, I’m Emily!" Kids would fall down and shake around by me, and then laugh. I went through it for all of third grade before my mom let me be home schooled.She wasn’t happy. She raised hell with the principal, the school board, the PTA, everyone. Mom had my back. So really, I haven’t had a lot of friends. I’ve been alone most of my life. I’m mostly okay with it. Sometimes though... It would be nice to hug someone, ya know?-Em
Entry #13: September 9, 2013
This isn’t working. This is a waste of time. All of it. This blog, the meds, therapy all of it. I feel like I’m just postponing the inevitable. This is going to kill me.
Entry #9: August 10, 2013
In an effort to continue this mental purging, I’m going to write my entry today instead of next week.So I didn’t hurt Dr. Harper’s feelings saying that I missed Dr. Winchcombe. She actually suggested I talk more about him. I’m not sure how much I can say, or how much I want to say, but I’ll let you know he was awesome. My parents disagree, but they don’t really know him. Plus they’re quick to blame what happened on him, and his inability to "fix" me. It’s not his fault.I started seeing Dr. Emil Winchcombe when I was a teenager. Like 15 I think. It was mandatory that I saw him at first because I really did try to kill myself. (That was the longest sentence I’ve ever typed. It’s hard to look at.) This might be the first time I cried about it. I’ve been lying on the floor for the last half an hour. I know you’re reading this. I’m so sorry.I get why you didn’t want me to see Dr. Winchcombe. I’m sure you were scared. You just cared about me. I can’t fault you for that. I’m so sorry I put you through that. But you have to admit, Dr. Winchcombe figured out I was on the wrong meds. And I’ve told you until I was blue in the face, I wasn’t trying to kill myself the second time. It was an accident. But I digress. We don’t need to rehash that. It’s in the past now.I love you. Both of you. Thank you for putting up with such a screwed up daughter.Okay, I’m exhausted. That’s enough.-Emily
Entry #10: August 25, 2013I hope no one was alarmed by my absence. Although, the two people who read this blog both know exactly where I’ve been, so it doesn’t matter much.
In case anyone else is reading this, I’ve spent the last ten days up north with my family. My mom just dropped me off at home about 30 minutes ago, I just unpacked, and now I’m going to hit the hay. I have an overnight to work tonight. So that’s fun.
I was going to write an entry up there, but to be honest, I just never felt it. It was vacation. Sue me. I promise though, I’ll be back on track here now that I’m going to sink back into my normal rotation. My good ol’ boring ass normal rotation. I have some stuff I might have to catch you up on. Maybe. If I feel like talking about it.Goodnight,E
Entry #11: August 26, 2013
..,,can yo useem,e>;;;?