The first draft of Asteroid Made of Dragons is complete.

This is minor news. We should all treat this in a low-key manner.

Okay, maybe I'm a little excited.

But - this is not my first rodeo. This is my THIRD rodeo, if rodeos were books about punching dinosaurs. Finishing the first draft is a very important step, an amazing step that feels like chocolate rockets exploding in my synapses -- BUT it's only the first step. Writing is re-writing as the old mantra goes, and the process of editing is where a draft become a book.  

So! Here's what's next: I have to get the draft ready to submit to the sharp-eyed people at Inkshares and my editor at Girl Friday Production. I want to get that done quickly - the sooner the better, but conservatively it's going to take at least 2-3 weeks. Here's my process for the First Pass Edit, for any of you other writers who wish to judge me cruelly.

1. Print out the draft! I write completely in Google Drive, and all of my re-writing and edits will be inputted there. But there's something very exciting about seeing that big stack of paper for the first time.

2. Find an Ultra Fine Sharpie in a fanciful color. But not red, red is too harsh. Something in a nice blue or green, so the edits seem like whimsical graffiti.

3. Read the draft for the first time. Just a basic read - only correcting glaring grammar goofs. This pass is for story structure, character voice,  tone - just how each scene and chapter lands. I'll make notes as I go for things to fix, add, change, etc.

4. Hate the book / love the book. Kind of a toss-up - generally an even measure of both.

5. Sit in shower and brood. 

6. Input edits from paper copy. This may mean just some minor tweaks or vast alterations. This is also when I start preparing a lot of targeted questions for my editor and beta readers -- I may find things that I HEART or ANTI-HEART, but just want to wait until I've got some other opinions and feedback on before I make the final call.

7. Record the updated draft. Nothing fancy, just me reading it as a quick and dirty MP3.

8. Listen to recording, edit as I listen. I've found this immensely helpful. Nothing makes me really hone in on bad sentence structure or places where the rhythm is off than having to listen to it. I'll also listen to the recording in the car while I'm driving - it helps me catch plot holes and things that don't make sense. Also! It will lead me to new ideas and tangents of thought, always  helpful during the revision process.

9. Repeat Step 5.

10. Submit draft to Inkshares and editor -- and my trusty beta readers. I've been some sort of filthy 'creative' most of my adult life. Writing, acting, shadow-infused Christmas albums, directing, etc. Art does not exist in a vacuum, criticism is essential to a both sharpen and influence the maker's vision. I've made major changes to other books because of beta reader feedback -- and I've also stomped my feet and refused despite all their logic and sensible advice, because I knew that what I saw, what I wrote was important to me. And I never would have known that if it wasn't challenged. Never would have explained it better if someone didn't ask. My beta readers are ice-veined heartbreakers - grammar titans -- crazed chaos-shamans - they punch me in the gut until I make the book better, and I love it. I love knowing that the book can get better and better. This is my first time with a professional editor and I am SALIVATING. 

More updates to come - hopefully more regularly now that I'm not madly trying to finish the draft all the time. I also have lots of news coming on those audiobooks  (some of?) you guys wanted and other details and wool-gathering on what AMOD is and can be and is becoming. I'll also continue to put up sweet pictures of dragons. 

Like this:

Still writing - turning the corner on 50k in the draft tonight. End of the second act, now it's time for prophecies, laser fights, improper make-out sessions, and the coming of the Asteroid. Here's a sweet picture of a dragon. Talk to you guys again soon!

Updatery in  your facery!

I did hit an important personal milestone in the manuscript, I drew a map of Corinth.

I'm a little loopy - I was up past midnight programming light cues, one more night of rehearsal before the show opens and I can crawl back into my writer cave and get back to banging away on Asteroid Made of Dragons. Theatre is a crazy group endeavour - quite looking forward to solitary hermity goodness on the horizon. Though I am kind of in love with this promo shot from The Moonstone play:

Photo: Matt Hardy

It's been a little while since I shared any Xenon stuff with you all - so here's a snippet from one of her chapters. It's becoming an open secret that even though I've wandered with Jonas & Rime before, our scholar-goblin is quickly becoming the character I enjoy writing the most.

“Zee, why aren’t we leaving?” Mercury hissed in her ear. “Mother could wake up...any wandertime!”

“I’m not coming back, Mercy. Not this time. I can’t,” Xenon made her voiced stay calm, even though her heart slammed ceaselessly against her ribcage. She laid her hands on the black chain that was wrapped around the door handles of the shed. It had no lock, the steel links were welded together. It had been this way since her father -- had stopped giving instructions and telling stories.

“Zee. Zee! You can’t!” her sister writhed with panic. “Mother will--Mother will, I don’t even know what Mother will!”

Sorry, Mercury. Let’s see how bad you really want to go. “No turning back,” Xenon got a firm grip of the black chain in both hands and set her feet. She would never be as strong as some goblins, but in a pinch she could bend steel carpenter-nails without wincing. With a sharp exhale she grunted and snapped the chains apart and threw them aside. Both sisters paused and pressed themselves against the shed door in a breathless moment of terror, waiting for the sound of their mother’s approach.

When only the distant sound of the philosophers stumbling further down their street came, Xenon slowly stood and turned her head to look into her sister’s wide eyes. “I told you before. What I found, it’s important and it’s dangerous. And it’s my job to figure it out, I’m not dumping it someone else’s plate. I took the little gold I have left, but if I’m going to figure this out, I need, well, transportation.”

Mercury said nothing, only stared at the shed door with reverential awe. Xenon took a deep breath and flung open the shed doors, where the light of the three moons could fall upon the contents.

It was all curves. It was midnight blue, like the darkest deeps of the sea. It was beautiful and covered with dust.

Xenon swung into saddle and ran her thumbs along the throttle, the starter switches, the display panel that still gave off a faint light, even as the machine slumbered. She shook Mercury off her shoulder until her sister’s bottom was on the seat. A quick wipe with her cloak removed the worst of the dust from the panel and showed that there was plenty of energy still in the reserve. She closed her eyes, just for a moment, and let herself listen to the stories underneath her feet. Then her thumb flicked the ignition switch.

An Arkanic sky-cycle?!? It had been beyond her teenaged capacity to preserve even a semblance of calm when her father had touched down in the backyard the first time with it. It had hummed instead of roared, as if floating made it happy. Just like it hummed now, even though it had sat alone in a dirty shed for years, it was ready to fly, like it had been waiting for her. True Precursor technology did not fade, did not break, did not diminish or grow dull. The sky-cycle was powered by an actual aerolith and with careful use and maintenance, the machine would fly for years. Her father had taught her how to operate it with calm, thorough care and now it felt only right to be sitting on the back of this ancient machine on the trail of a mystery that stretched back to when the device had been born. Xenon looked over her shoulder, a final question in her eyes. Mercury had already found goggles from the saddlebags. She blinked once through the smoked glass, then passed another pair to her sister without a word. Xenon pulled them onto her forehead snugly and eased the throttle and let Tobio out into the night.

The Precursor’s machine hummed as quiet as a drifting cloud down the length of the house, both goblins kept an eye on each window, expecting to see the razor silhouette of their mother’s anger. Xenon held her breath and felt Mercury’s fingers dig into her sides. She kept Tobio at his slowest speed until her mother’s house was a diminishing shadow. Then she hammered the throttle and made the midnight blue wonder leap into the sky.

Mercury whooped with delight, pounding on Xenon’s back with her sharp fists. Their part of the city was mostly dark, even with the roaming philosophers -- but other parts shone with lantern-glass warmth. The bright yellow of the theater district, the cool blue of the torches that burned around the Library, the piercing white light that tore into the night sky like a spear that came from the Glass Towers of Vo -- the night wind whipped past and Xenon felt free. Terrified and free and she strongly considered turning the sky-cycle right around and parking it back in the shed.

“Where are we going, Zee?” Mercury demanded.

Xenon folded up her fears and tucked them away in a pocket just over her heart, there to be easily found and consulted at need. “Like you and mother said. Someone smarter than me - or at least someone who knows more about the Precursor civilization.” And not the First Librarian - that old stick would bury this in committees, rhetoric, and old men’s science. If we were lucky the mystery would be solved some fifteen minutes before SHAME arrives. “We’re going to go talk to an old boyfriend.”

“What?!?” Mercury shouted in either glee or pure incomprehension from the wind whipping past.

Two goblins soared across the night sky on a machine older than the city below, leaving a trail of magenta energy behind them like a line of bright ink.

Just a quick update - I'm grinding away at the manuscript in every spare moment I can grab. Just finished what Act One, and inserted a meta-textual framing structure that you all will HATE.  But I'm liking it, so in it stays for now.  Just ghosted past the 30K word mark in the draft, going to keep banging away and hopefully climb up to 40k in the next week or so. I'm directing a play that opens next Friday, so between day job and rehearsals the Grand Central Station of my brain is officially crammed full of trains and noisy passengers. I want to keep up the pace, but I have to be honest that's going to be tough until I get this show opened. July is going to be fun!

Here's a quick snippet from the chapter I just finished - a token of good faith, my noble supporters.

Spell/Sword Concept Art - Mike Groves - poopbird.com

“So, what should my name be?” Jonas asked, coming up to her side. “You know I’m no good at coming up with this on the spot. If people ask who I am, what do I tell them? Or you? Your name is going to be hard to hide pretty soon too.”

She chuckled despite herself. I’m losing my grip on sanity and Jonas keeps having good ideas. Upside down we go. “A good cover name should be something simple, close to your own name in case you stumble. Do you have another name already? Do they give middle names in Gilead?”

“Nah, just Jonas.” his brow furrowed. “Wait, do you have a middle name?”

Rime’s mouth went dry and she picked up her pace, nearly shouldering a pair of leather-clad sailors out of the way. She angled for a nearby archway that seemed to lead away from the docks and towards the center of town, the most likely place to find the market. The dawn sun made the archway a black silhouette, half of a dark circle. The mage squinted and could see that it was fashioned from  what appeared to be a pair of ancient rib bones, encased in a cunning lattice of brick and mortar. Earthen pots were placed at regular intervals along the top, and bright yellow flowers bloomed despite the advance of fall. I wonder if someone waters them, do they have a ladder nearby that they use for maintenance?

“Oh, man - it must be terrible,” her guardian practically salivated as the trotted to catch up. “You’ve got to tell me.”

Rime turned back, arms crossed. “No. Not going to happen. And this is not one of those times where someone says that a thing will never occur to build up your anticipation or even an opening for some passing deity to prepare some sort of ironic comeuppance. This is not a thing that you will know, ever.”

Jonas grinned, “Yeah, well, we’ll see.”

“No, we will not see.”

The squire laughed. “Aww, come on. What could be more complicated or strange sounding than --”

“Doma Rime Korvanus,” a voice came from the archway of brick and bone.

The two travelers spun, the squire’s hand already on his sword. Standing in the shadowed circle, outlined by the rising sun was a ghost. The hunter, Linus, had already drawn his white sword and held it out before him as if in benediction. His dented iron armor was the same, the white spiral sigil on his chest was the same, his cool blue eyes were the same. The same as the last time, on the beach. The few citizens of Shiloh coming through the archway eyeballed the situation with curiosity, but kept moving around the knight and his white sword like rocks in a stream. It’s so odd, that fucking sword. People think it’s a staff or a cane or some-weird-thing, and off they go with their business.

“You are dead,” Rime’s panic was slathered over with a thick coating of bruised propriety. It was just so rude. “I killed you myself. I made sure.”

“Yes,” Linus agreed. “But our business is not complete.”  

---Back to typing. Update you all soon!

Greetings, everyone!

What's your inbox been like without my constant presence? Cold and drafty? An email utopia? 

I thought it best to give you all a break after the non-ending onslaught the past couple of months, but I wanted to give you a quick update and let you know the rough timeline for the the book.

First, foremost, and always - thank you all so much for your support. We wouldn't be sitting here right now if it weren't for you. I know I've said this a lot, but I honestly  need to keep saying it until the eventual Heat-Death of the Universe.

Inkshares has already been in contact the past week getting a lot of information from me as they plan the production and marketing for AMOD. I haven't embarrassed myself YET, but that is a train that is never late. 

The first deadline is : the finished manuscript is due at the end of July! This is not set in stone, I have a little bit of flex if I need some extra time, but as of right now I'm on target and want to stay that way. I'm projecting the finished draft to be north of 80,000 words, my trusty Google Doc is sitting on 22,000. I feel weird about word count - it's become the equivalent of Arcade High Scores in the writing community, so I really don't like talking about them - but you guys have already bought the book, so you get the sausage-making deets.

So, obviously - I'm going to be using every spare moment not at day job, rehearsal, gutter-drinking, sleeping, and eating just typing away like mad. I feel a wee-bit stressed, but the main feeling is excitement. You are waiting. I don't want to disappoint you. From someone who self-published their first two novels, Accountability is like a drug. Someone other than me cares whether or not I hit my writing deadlines or just play video games.

Now that we're all buckled in for the long-haul, I'll try to update you guys every week or so - just on my progress and other cool things that develop. After I turn in the manuscript in July, I'll start working on those backer rewards we talked about like the audiobooks!

Don't be surprised if my internet output drops to virtually nil as I get closer to deadline, I'll have to put on my Hermit Hat to make sure I stay on target. But you can always find me on Twitter @gderekadams or on my regular blog spell-sword.com [which I just realized I haven't even updated to with the fact that we won this honking contest. Oops.]

Later taters,

Derek

We won. We won again. We double-won. If winning the first time was like meeting a unicorn, this is like that same unicorn wants to take you to McDonald's and swears that it won't eat your fries and only wants to talk about Kurosawa films and Stephen Universe.

Okay - I'm not making sense. You should be used to it by now.

Our campaign was selected to be in the Sword & Laser Collection - Asteroid Made of Dragons won the grand prize. Don't believe me?!? (Wise.) Watch this video and listen to Veronica Belmont announce the winners.

S&L Collection Winner!

Big congratulations to the other grand prize winner The Life Engineered by JF Dubeau. Only proper that Sword & Laser make two picks! 

I have a lot more to say, but right now it's all melting down into plasma-gratitude. You guys did this. Your support got us here and I am so beyond excited to deliver. Once my heart stops flamenco dancing I'll start updating you - I will update you within an inch of your life. Updates on the progress of the draft, the projected schedule for writing, that artwork I want to get for you guys, pant pant, audiobook?, what HAVE I DONE. It's going to be an amazing ride, and you are the best cadre of scalawags and sorcerers I could ever wish to take it with.

Just thank you. Thank you all so very much. I am borderline guaranteed to be sobbing in my tub tonight, my obsidian heart splintering and shining forth a gentle glow the color of lilacs.

If you're not getting enough of me here - come find me on Twitter @gderekadams or at my regular blog spell-sword.com .  This is the last scene of Rudy, y'all. This is the stupid, stupid end of Independence Day - let us swagger across the internet desert, smoking cigars with Jeff Goldblum. Squires and Wild Mages you are officially instructed to party down.

Well - shit.

We're in 5th place with just over 36 hours to go. A month and  a half of promotion, begging, pestering, wheedling, and putting every best scrap of the book forward have all come down to this. We have the second highest reader total of any campaign in the top ten.  But we don't have the deep pockets of our competitors.

Brass tacks: It is okay if we lose. This was never about whether or not Asteroid Made of Dragons would be completed. It was never about whether or not you all would get a copy. I self-published my first two novels, and I can do the same with this one -- if we lose, I'm making a spreadsheet of every backer, and I will get a free ebook of AMOD into your hands when it is completed. 

Ultimately, winning only benefits me. It's a big step forward for my career, I really want a shot at being the Sword & Laser Grand Prize - it would mean getting my writing in front of a larger audience than I've ever been able to before. It's an amazing opportunity - I completely understand why everyone in this campaign is so determined to win, so invested in succeeding by any means necessary.

So - DO NOT run out and pre-order 20 copies. If you have 20 friends you can convince in the next day, that's great. But you have all done more than you should have. The number of my friends that are sitting on 3, or 5, or 10 copies of this book staggers me. The number of my friends that have shared the campaign around humbles me - a ceaseless wave of support. And all of you backers are my friends now, by the way - I'm not just counting the personal ones. If you plunked down your money on a book as silly as Asteroid Made of Dragons - well, then you are my boon companion.

I seriously considered not saying anything at this point. The die is cast - just let the last day roll by and wait for the inevitable. But you paid yer money, as they say - it's your campaign too. We stand, Wild Mages and Squires, on the bow of a ship - and we are taking on water. If the wind is with us, we may still make port. If not, then let us dine with the sea-elves. I hope you brought your finest garments, as their dress code is severe. No cummerbunds! Sea-elves don't truck that tacky High School Chorus bullshit.

Noblesse oblige - but lightning works on anything.

G. Derek Adams

Secret #3

I don't know how to stop the asteroid.

I know how it was made, I know when it will land, I could even give you a pretty good statistical breakdown of the size and types of dragons that slumber beneath it's adamant crust -- hell, I have backstories and ridiculous dragon-names for a few like Tyrinel the Inferno, Sorrow the Sure, Bex the Assymetrically-Winged. I know the song First-Singer Teon wrote the day they cast the dragons off the planet, I know the taste of the wine that Jalyx poured for him as the Singer wept alone that night in their bedchamber.

But I don't know how to stop it from falling.

As of right now, working on the draft - looking down the long tunnel of the tale -- I just see an enticing but stubborn blank.

That's the fun, you see. I know so much about the world, about the heroes, about the Past and the Future and lightning-Now. But some things I can't see until I get there. Unlike the vast numbers of far wiser writers out there I only have the barest of outlines. Want to see it?

That's what I have. And some of it's wrong! I'm sure of it! It's just a road map, a way to keep moving forward.

I can't wait to get there though. I can't wait to get there, when that asteroid [at this point technically a meteor] starts pushing it's way through the atmosphere, and the wyrms start stirring, and and and....! I can't wait to write it and I can't wait for you all to read it.

Thank you all so much for coming on this adventure with me. Secret #3 isn't really a secret -- it's that I'm crazy and weird. But by backing this campaign I'm your crazy and weird. I crazy and weird for you.

Required Contest Update So My Anxiety Demons Will Quiet Down Briefly

Three days to go in the contest!  I won't exaggerate, but we're slipping down the ranks a bit - and there's going to be a lot of movement in the next 72 hours as everyone fights to hold onto the top five slots. You've all put in your gold coins - you've all put up with my pestering -- it breaks me a little to be this mercenary, but I need your help even more this last stretch.  We have to keep pushing or we're going to fall out the bottom of this contest - you know people, you know people who like books, or you know people who have 8.99.  Show them the site, share the exclusive chapters with them - send them to me on twitter @gderekadams, I will patiently and shamelessly do my best to convince them. I'm still pinging everyone that's ever been on any social media/contact list I've ever had, but there's only so much time left and only so many people that I have incriminating high school poetry on file from.  Take a look at the leaderboard - we are all neck and neck!

Stay with it Squires! Keep sipping lemonade Wild Mages! We can do it! AND BY ALL THAT IS HOLY LET'S JUST WIN THIS MOTHERFUCKING CONTEST SO I CAN STOP BOTHERING YOU NICE PEOPLE AND JUST WRITE YOU A STUPID BOOK ABOUT FRIENDSHIP AND DRAGONS.

[Contest ends Sunday night - May 31st - 12 PST]

Remember the sign. The circle that holds even thought it wishes to break.