The Next-Gen Novelist We Need, And the One We Deserve

I’ve been away for a while, but I’m going to ensure that changes. I have had so many ideas on what I want to do with my blog, my YouTube, and other social media. I have been overwhelmed with ideas, and not entirely certain where to go with any of it.

But I have some clarity now.

The past couple of years have been quite good for me as a person, and by extension, a writer. I’ve learnt so much about the craft of writing, and tons about other areas of life. Through these years, I’ve learnt about how I want my writing to be, what I want it to achieve, how I want it to sound. The same for myself. Who actually am I? What do I actually want to achieve with my life? And how do I want to come across and be presented to others?

2015 and 2016 have been great to me, because I have had time to have these thoughts (had a gap year, which gave me a significant window to reflect before starting university). Now, coming to the end of the year, I believe I have clarity on what it is that needs to change about my current approach.

I need to be myself. Truly myself. I feel I have a very strong sense of who I am, and so far, I’ve done great at conveying that to people with mostly no smoke and mirrors. Mostly. There’s a layer to this that I’ve been very aware of, but have been rationalising away.

I’m only 19.

I have a very, very strong sense of intuition. My social and emotional intelligence is off the charts, and I know and can explain things that can make me sound 30 years ahead of myself. And I think I have a very unique mind, and can be very charismatic, and I know I have the ability to show others sides of themselves they never knew existed.

But I’ve always felt that people wouldn’t listen to me because of my age. And I have blogs sitting there, very useful, powerful blogs, that I have not published for months, because I fear the response I may get. “Oh, he’s just a kid, what does he know?”

However… I’m going to be me. Not the published author I’m slyly acting like I am. I’m going to be me.

Now, this blog hasn’t shown that authoritative part of me, because I’ve not published the things I wanted to publish, for this exact reason. But the issue is that I focused so much energy on content that perhaps I shouldn’t have been putting out in the first place, and ignoring the stuff that actually mattered. So many people are giving advice to authors in general, but what about a young writer giving quality writing advice to other young writers?

From here on, the only advice I will give on here will be to other young writers, and if anyone else wishes to take something from it (because I still believe they could) then they’re free to do so. But in terms of the content I will put out on my blog – the advice specifically – I will now target it at other young writers.

That being said, there are other things I wish to put on here. I have a very cool short story series in mind, that I think some people might really enjoy, and I’ll still document my thoughts on different things, as well as my journey to publication. The thing is, I’ve been slacking on all of that.

Not anymore. It’s not 2017 yet, and this is not a New Year’s resolution. This is simply the next stage of my journey.

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got to say, and I’m out!


Snapchat: Novelicity

A Wild Extract Appears!

As a writer, I occasionally do some actual writing. I love talking about the writing process, but until now, I’ve never placed a sample of my writing in a public space for people to scrutinise. There are a couple of legitimate reasons for this, the primary one being that publishers tend to not like your work being out there. But “I don’t like that” is not the same as ‘that’s not allowed’ (well… if you agree with linguistic prescription, I suppose it is). 

So basically… it’s allowed. So basically… I’ll let you see some of it. 

This extract was chosen because I wanted some of my more current writing to be up for show, but also one of my more rounded chapters. The only context I’m going to give you is my current synopsis. Beyond that, you’ll have to guess and imagine. This will be useful for me, because only I will know what has come before this chapter, and it will be interesting to see how people interpret this solitary excerpt. 

I should forewarn you: it’s an entire chapter, so it’s rather long. But you guys probably love reading, so I’m probably preaching to the choir on that one.  

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got to say, and I’m out!



A talking book tells a young girl the story of how the world fell to darkness. On the surface, this is a story about a chosen one and a misguided warrior, but beneath and between it all, is a scheming sisterhood, a world in revolution, and an imposing Cycle of Fate.

The story follows the paths of Auria and Parax, idealistic chosen one and egotistical prodigy, as they begin a journey of self-discovery down a path paved with adversity.

A mythical Order seeks to forge their ultimate warrior from the slumbering potential within Auria, and Parax aims to unravel the mysteries around her new superior.

All the while, the cunning Umbrisa is spreading life-sapping darkness across the country, her methods contrary to what was foretold, and as the protagonists will soon discover, so are her intentions.

This is a story of how a world came to ruin, of the all-encompassing influence of Fate, and the light within all things.

A/N: By this point in the book, there are terms which have been explained. So I’ll provide a small glossary for the ones relevant to this scene, so you can have a clearer understanding of it. 

Manipulation: Literally telekenesis.  
Materialization: The ability to create weapons from memory.
Lenria: A magic-wielding female-only race that are identical to humans. Together they are known as the Lenrian Order. 
Brands: Tattoos that signify a Lenria’s rank.
High-Paladin: A rank within the Lenrian hierarchy.
Sulira: ‘Sister’.
Varlet: The rank given to uninitiated children within the Lenria Order.
Wild Lenria: Uninitiated Lenria who live outside of the Order.


“I done it, High-Paladin Jaii,” Parax proudly announced. “I used Manipulation without my hands.”

Jaii remained staring down at the courtyard as she said, “I see.” There was not even a shred of surprise sprinkled onto the words. “At least you’ve managed to turn your arrogance to more productive uses.”

Parax grit her teeth, biting back a retort. She turned her attention to the shadowy face of the sky, staring at it’s sparkling freckles and it’s lone luminous eye. Night had always been Parax’s favourite time of day. The silence it brought to her surroundings was something she deeply appreciated.

But something else she deeply appreciated, was answers.

Parax reverted her focus to her superior. “High-Paladin, I have a question.”


“As far as I’m aware, nobody in the Order teaches us how to use Manipulation like that. From the way you so skilfully done it, it’s obvious that wasn’t your first time doing it, so it wasn’t an accident. You also didn’t react much when I just mentioned that I’d done it too, so you seem to have been expecting that.”

“An interesting list of observations,” Jaii said patronisingly. “But I heard no question amongst them.”

Parax took a deep breath. She studied the brands on Jaii’s naked arm. She studied the long threads of black that hung down her back, stemming from her round head. She done this to remind herself that this woman was nothing more than just that, a woman. Then she asked her question.

“Where… where did you learn to use Manipulation in such a manner?”

Parax could sense a shift of emotion within Jaii, but the woman’s external bearing betrayed that feeling.

Time turned for slow and silent moments as she just stood there, hand on hip, peering off the top of the castle tower. Then, with a small smile she finally said, “I appreciate your boldness, Parax. But sometimes you need to know your limits. It should have been enough to discover it was possible.” She sighed. “Some questions are better left unasked.”


“I tried,” Jaii spat out. “I just tried like you did, and it worked. Then I improved on it in my own time. There’s the answer to your mystery.”

Parax frowned, slightly shaking her head to herself, unconvinced. “But nobody would do that,” she challenged. “We’re taught that’s it’s too dangerous to haphazardly use our abilities like that. We’re too afraid of what might happen if we-”

“If you what?” Jaii cut in with a sharp snap. She spun on her heel, her tresses swung around with her. The moonlight perfectly lit up her dark face, bringing her cute features into clear focus. “If you step into the unknown? If you tap into your true potential?” She grimaced. “Of course they’d not want that.” she whispered those last words.

They? Parax thought. Surely she didn’t mean the Order? A High-Paladin wouldn’t question the teachings of the Order. Such rebellious thoughts would have been beaten out of her during training. But then… they hadn’t been completely beaten out of Parax either.

Curiosity clung to Parax like the cold air, and so she braced herself as she prepared to take further liberties. “You don’t mean the Order do you, High-Paladin?”

Jaii just scoffed before glancing to the side. She turned her back to Parax, peering down into the courtyard with those fear-ridden eyes once more. “You are dismissed, Sulira Parax.”

Just then, a snap of rage surged through Parax. She was so sick of Jaii’s easy dismissal. This woman had swiped away Parax’s dream for another three years. That single thought broke down all barriers that rank built between them. “Why did you make me lose my Higher Appraisal?” She yelled. “I lost because you used a technique I was taught to never use! So you better damned well-”

Before Parax could even utter the first letter of the next word, Jaii’s fist slammed into her face, sending her staggering. She steadied herself, her hand reflexively flexed, prepped to Materialize. Her other arm covered her nose.

Void-spawned bitch! Her hand strained as she restrained her mind from Materializing a weapon. Jaii stood before her, her robe fluttering in the sudden, aggressive breeze. Parax straightened, she wiped her nose, feeling the warm-wet liquid on her hand. She glared at Jaii with stone-set eyes, Jaii just stared right back.

In that moment, Parax pictured all the ways she could hurt the woman. Using Manipulation to throw her off the tower kept popping up.

But then the feeling passed, the wind calmed, and all angry thoughts were softly blown away. Well, most angry thoughts.

She shared a stare with her Mentor. A hundred words being silently spoken between them.

Parax could see that fire burned within the woman, a wild wrath starving for release. And yet, still laying beneath all that internal flame was a nagging fear.

What the Void are you so afraid of?

“You are dismissed,” Jaii repeated with sharpened severity. “I won’t say it again.”


“You are dismissed,” Parax mocked. “Talking to me like I’m some uppity Varlet. I should be her peer, not her damned subordinate!”

Parax paced up and down the small strip of space between her and Risa’s beds. Risa sat in the centre of her bed, bare legs crossed and her naked body concealed behind a plain white towel. “Sounds like a High-Paladin being a High-Paladin to me.”

“She’s hiding something. She clearly has some issue with the Order.”

Risa slightly cocked her head, a thoughtful look on her face. “That’s not too uncommon. Many of the higher-ups are Authoritarians.”

The Authoritarians were named as such because they held the political belief that Lenria were the most supreme of the three races, and should essentially rule over all of Aiga.

“Yes,” Parax agreed. “But that’s typically the Seniors. The Lenria who are actually engaged with politics.”

“Don’t be so simple,” Risa chided. “Anyone can be an Authoritarian and into politics. I’ve known Varlets who are.”

Parax ceased pacing, shooting Risa a confused stare. “Who are what? Authoritarians or into politics?”


Parax placed a hand on her face. “By the Fates.” She then considered Risa’s words. “I never really thought about that possibility, to be honest. That Jaii could be an Authoritarian.”

“It would make sense,” Risa supported. “They tend to dislike a lot of the Order’s current methodology. I mean, you said she didn’t seem too fond of The Lenria’s Tale, only Authoritarians are known to be like that. ‘Oh, it’s too soft and fluffy’,” Risa said in a mocking voice. “’The kids won’t learn a thing from it’.” She scoffed. “Because according to them all we need is ‘the hard facts’.”

“Nonsense,” Parax said with a shake of her head. Risa nodded. Parax began to undress, removing her robe and tunic.

“Still,” Parax continued. “It’s fairly uncommon for younger Lenria to have such beliefs unless it’s being taught to them from one of the older women. None of us know enough about the Civil War or the Mainlanders to talk about superiority and ruling.”

“Well I have no idea how old Jaii is,” Risa said. “Then again, I’m not sure anybody knows much about her beyond her name and rank.”

Parax folded her arms and raised a brow. “She’s that much of a mystery?”

Risa nodded fervently. “When me and Meihui were being transferred to her squad, Meihui tried to get some background on our new squad-leaders. She basically just looked at some documents and listened in to a lot of conversations.”

“Typical,” Parax smiled. She pulled out her folded night clothes from the wooden dresser beside her bed and began garbing herself.

“I would have investigated too,” Risa added. “But she’s the one who lives in the Citadel Towers, so it’s easier for her, and-”

“Yeah, I get it.” Parax chuckled as she adjusted the gown’s hood. “Not that you would have investigated anyway. But go on.”

Risa rolled her eyes. “I would have actually,” she murmured. “Anyway, there were more than enough boring bits on Senior Patrice. You know how Meihui is, there’s always got to be a little detail that she might have missed, so she recites all her lengthy notes to you in the most dry, dull voice. Ugh. Suffice to say, Senior Patrice was pretty boring. But there wasn’t much about Jaii, and what there was didn’t stand out too much. Considering she was a Wild Lenria, you’d think there’d be more talk about her.”

Parax’s bed let out a squeak as she sat on its edge. “Wait, a Wild Lenria?”

“Yeah,” Risa affirmed. “It was probably the only remotely interesting thing Meihui managed to find out about her. She rose through the ranks pretty fast, I guess.”

Curiosity shot through Parax like a leaden ball, her speech became swift. “What else? Did she find anything else?”

Risa shook her head. “Nothing of import. Just things as equally boring as Patrice.”

“You’d find a Misanese opera boring, Risa.” Parax sighed. “Are you sure there was nothing else?”

“Yes,” Risa shrieked. “Unless you want to know her eating habits?”

Parax gave Risa a broody look.

“Oh, seriously.”

“Look, this bitch is hiding stuff. I need to know as much as I can about her. Did Meihui say anything about when she was initiated?”


“Void be damned,” Parax cursed. “Perhaps Meihui could find out for me.”

“I doubt it.”

“Why?” Parax challenged. “Almost everything is documented on the Isles. Initiations and the profile of each initiate certainly is. Meihui is a High-Archivist, so she should have the privileges to look at that information.”

“Oh I don’t doubt she could,” Risa explained. “I doubt she would. She’s been busy with her research recently.”

Parax tut. “She’s talking nonsense.”

“Tell her that.”

“What research could she possibly be doing? We’re not humans, we don’t do science. I don’t have time for her excuses. If she’s going to give me problems, I’ll just find out my damned self.”

“And how on Aiga do you plan on doing that?” Risa asked. “Isn’t the whole point of you asking Meihui because you can’t do it yourself?”

“Yes, and because it’s convenient. But I’ll settle only for results, not convenience. If Meihui can’t or won’t deliver, I’ll do it myself.” Somehow, Parax’s mind thought doubtfully.

Risa’s hands danced. “And break the rules, your oaths in doing so? For what? To find some worthless details about some woman?”

“She’s not just some woman,” Parax snapped. “She’s a…” A what? A mystery? A curiosity? A closed-book enigma draped in a complex web of perplexities? Those may have all been true to Parax, but she knew that none of them should have been so compelling that she was prepared to forsake her oaths for them.

It’ll probably turn out to be a load of nothing anyway. Her mind told her.

“Just leave it, Parax,” Risa said softly. “It’s not worth the hassle.” Parax could see the concern that overlayed her sulira’s eyes. “I get it. She’s an interesting character with a strong sense of mystery that appeals to your natrual curiosity. I understand all of that. But you’re undergoing extended evaluation, remember? It’s already going to be three years. Don’t do anything that could make it longer.”

‘Don’t question anything.’ That was the meaning buried beneath those words. Parax knew Risa meant well because Risa always meant well. But a well-meaning Lenria didn’t get answers.

But I can’t let her worry.  “You’re right,” Parax half-lied. She saw the worry clear out from Risa’s hazelnut eyes.

She knew there was truth, logic to Risa’s words. But there was a logic to Parax’s desire to know more, there was a logic to Jaii’s mysterious manners. Only a matter of weeks ago she had discovered that her abilities could indeed do more than she’d been told, that there was more than she knew about herself and the Order. If there were more things like that, why should that knowledge be withheld from her?

Sorry, Risa. But I deserve to know.

“Of course I’m right,” Risa grinned. “Look,” she said, moving to stand. “Gather your thoughts and all that. I’m going to have my bath, and when I get back, we’re going to mind wrestle.” She proceeded to the door before opening it. She smiled back at Parax. “I have to regain my honour for last time, you know.”

Parax found herself chuckling at her friend’s mettle. She laughed as she said, “Just get out already!”

Snapchat: Novelicity

The ‘SECRET’ to Writing Female Characters

I made a video over on my YouTube channel sharing some of my thoughts and ideas on how to write female characters in what many might consider an ‘appropriate’ way. In all honesty, I don’t like to prescribe viewpoints or impose any ideals or stuff, but this is just the way I feel about the matter as someone’s who’s consumed media from various places and seen these similar patterns. I’m just sharing my ideas of how to perhaps avoid some of the rubbish I too often see.

Link to the video:

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got to say, and I’m out!


Snapchat: Novelicity


My First Manuscript Submission Experience

This is an old post. I was supposed to release it on the actual date, but apparently I’d left it in draft. The actual date was the 20th. It got to them perfectly fine, and now I eagerly await their response! Hopefully the next blog won’t be about ‘My First Rejection’, but ‘My First Accepted Submission’ or a similar title seems kinda unlikely.

In a word? Exciting. In another word? Maddening.

The submission was to the UK publisher Gollancz, which until recently I’d been completely pronouncing the wrong way. And yes, chances are you have been too, and certainly if that was your first time reading it.

So what was it about this experience that was so exciting and yet so maddening? Well let me tell you a story.

Around November last year, I heard about Gollancz opening up to unsolicited direct submissions (physical only), and I was immediately psyched about it. I’d finished my manuscript back in August and had been editing it since. I began a query, proposal one-page synopsis, and the first 50 pages of my novel, on the same day.

I won’t lie to you, I found the one-page synopsis to be an utter nightmare, and it still ended up rolling over onto a second page. Thankfully, Gollancz were being rather lenient with their submissions, which I appreciate.

So the official deadline was fast approaching, but my deadline had already come. By that, I mean I set myself a deadline earlier than the actual one, to compensate for my occasional unreliability. Because my internal editor sneaks up on me at the worst of times.

I had printed out several versions, only to read through them and obsessively underline and make notes around the page each time. I know that it may seem obvious to edit to pristine condition before printing anything, but I think self-doubt takes hold whenever I’m about to do something remotely out of my comfort zone, so every time I thought I was ready to send it, an anxious part of me wasn’t and resorted to editing.

By the time I was satisfied, there were only two days until the deadline. So I’d been right to give myself an earlier one. But even the postage was a bit of an issue.

I was in the post office and like any young aspirant, I was all wide-eyed and exhilarated, until it occurred to me that I still needed two things: an envelope and the postal address.

Both proved harder to get than you’d think. Oh and did I mention that I had only 5 minuets before the post office closed? Surely that’s enough time though right? It’s just an envelope and an address. Right? Right…

Not quite.

I’m in the post office, which very helpfully has a shop section with envelopes. But my query, not-one-page-synopsis, and the first 50 pages of my manuscript, were… rather thick. They had every single envelope except the one my manuscript could fit into. Or so I’d thought.

Only after desperately trying to squeeze the pages into the envelope about fifty times, did I realise it wasn’t the right fit. The envelope I needed just happened to be buried underneath a clutter of… I don’t actually remember what. But it was stuff that had no business standing between me and destiny. Regardless, I finally found the correct sized envelope, I could purchase it and be on my merry way.

The second thing was equally irksome. Within all the excitement, I had foolishly forgotten about the postal address. I knew it was on their website, so I tried to use my phone to pull up the info. BUT OH NO. The Internet wouldn’t connect, because why would it? Why would life be so simple? I can’t recall how many times I pressed the refresh button, but I’m sure I surpassed some kind of physical limitation.

There was literally only a minuet left when it finally worked. At which point I went over to the desk, got the package sorted out, and managed to leave without any issue.

Hopefully I wrote the address properly…

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got to say, and I’m out!


Snapchat: Novelicity


Who Are The Next Generation of Writers?

Given that I call myself ‘NextGenNovelist’, I should think it would make a fair amount of sense to talk a bit about… well… the Next Generation of Novelists/writers. And since I’m an aspiring Fantasy author, most of the content in this post will reflect that.

First, let’s establish what is meant by the ‘Next Generation of Novelists/writers’. I mean, what kind of name is that? Why not just say: ‘new writers’? Or, ‘Writers of the Future’?

Well for starters, neither of them are specific enough. ‘New writers’ can be applied to anyone. My nan could be a ‘new writer’ just because she hasn’t actually penned a story of any sort for decades. My 11-year-old brother could be considered a ‘new writer’ just because he hasn’t written an actual story before.

And besides being equally as vague, ‘Writers of the Future’ is also pretty much taken.

‘Next Generation Writers/Novelists’ fits, because it’s specific. It refers to the next generation of writers. Not potential writers from all ages, a very specific age group: those within the youngest/upcoming generation. It’s as simple as that.

As one of these people, I find myself intrigued by the question: who are the next generation of writers?

Just to clarify: I’m aware of young writers. I’ve found the forums and the critic circles/groups. I know they’re active and out there. But my real curiosity is, of those few who take it seriously (learn the craft/business) how many of them will in fact be the next George RR Martin, J.K Rowling or Stephanie Meyer?

Though, it’s probably best to just acknowledge them as the first of themselves rather than try to compare them to others. But since people are going to do it anyway, I’ll just indulge in it a bit longer.

Also, chances are most of the aforementioned authors will still be around for a while, but that doesn’t stop me from asking the question: who will be the first big names of my generation? I mean, consider the fact that some of them could still be babies!

Now, there’s a reason why this topic has cropped up in my brain.

I love to watch author interviews/panels (mainly fantasy authors, of course). I enjoy seeing them interact with their fans and talk about life/writing like human beings… though given the insanity of the world of writing, how ‘human’ any author is, is questionable. However, a commonality I’ve noticed is the understandings between many of them regarding non-writing matters. Geeky things specifically.

I’ve noticed a good number of them talk about things like D&D (Dungeons and Dragons, for the uninitiated), and I have absolutely no idea what they’re on about half the time.

Table-top games? Pen and paper RPGs? What madness. The moment someone says ‘RPGs’ to me-missile launchers aside-I’m thinking of Final Fantasy and Dragon Age. That being said, we do in fact have our own versions of those. I recall playing ‘Top Trumps’ when I was in primary school. I also know of many others (not including myself) who would play ‘Yu-Gi-Oh!’ and loved collecting trading cards for various franchises. So, it won’t be all that different.

I can’t wait to see what the next generation of authors reminisce over. Will we sit there and talk about the everlasting console war? Will we share a fondness for the same games too? When we’re asked: “what book got you into the genre?” how many of us will we respond with: “The Hunger Games”? and “Harry Potter”, rather than “Lord of the Rings” or “Earthsea”? How many of us will share a hatred for the cursed love triangle? How many of us won’t? What will commonly be beheld as ‘classics’ in fiction? How many stories will be shared about the turmoil caused by searching out rare collectable cards?

What will define us?

And naturally, the next aspect which intrigues me is writing. Just what the heck are we going to be writing about? Right now, a lot of us are in the years where many older authors truly began. It’s also the time when most of them wrote their worst work. How many of us will write something salvageable right now, and how many of us are just in training for that future book that will hit all the right nails on the head?

What kinds of trends will be created? What issues will the genre face? Currently, there’s complaints about diversity in cast and setting (particularly in Fantasy). Will that be a thing of the past? Will fiction be so varied, that (like YA) it will be almost pointless to pigeon-hole it?

Will traditional publishing remain a viable route (I don’t see why it wouldn’t but… I’m hardly an expert)?

And then, the fans! Of course, where would any published writer be without their fans? They too will share in the glory. What will readers want and expect of their fiction? How will the standards shift?

The best thing about all of this is, I have no answers for any of it! I just think it’s an interesting point to ponder. And of course, this is all under the assumption that the world doesn’t end first! 😀

Anywaaaay, I think I’m going to end this now, before I end up rambling for a gazillion pages.

So, that’s all I’ve got to say, and I’m out!


Snapchat: Novelicity


Hi, I’m Alexander Thomas, and I Derail Blog Posts!

The first thing you should probably know about me, is that I’m not actually Alexander Thomas. Well… I am, but I’m not actually called that by people I know. My first name is Reece, but one of my middle names is Alexander. I’m an aspiring novelist, primarily of the fantasy genre, and I don’t exactly feel as though ‘Reece Thomas’ sounds as good as ‘Alexander Thomas’. But at least I’m still using one of my legal names, instead of calling myself… oh, I don’t know, Robert Galbraith.

Currently, I am 18 years of age and ageing… or so I’ve been told. Personally I don’t feel 18, nor do I feel like I’m getting older. My inner child takes the steering wheel more times than I care to count. As of right now, I’m in a gap year, which means that I’m taking a year away from studying and doing other things. Like writing… and working (sad face). I’ve actually already finished the first draft of a manuscript, and I’m editing it to no end as of right now.

Buuuuuut that’s stuff to talk about another time.

I am from the UK which (if you didn’t know) essentially means it’s near impossible to find a sci-fi/fantasy convention. I’m not joking. I’ve seen a few, but they’re nowhere near as consistent as how they have it in North America. If you’re from there (which chances are you are), I’m telling ya, you’re more fortunate than you realise.

Don’t believe me?
Three words: World Science-Fiction Convention.
Three dates: 1957, 1965, and 2014.
Those are the dates of Loncon, which is when the World Science-Fiction Convention decides it’s convenient to actually bother coming to London! I mean, I understand there’s a higher readership of those genres in the US, but to jump from 1965 to 2014? THAT’S NEARLY 50 YEARS! That’s half a century!

Can you imagine what the fans that attended Loncon in 1957 must have thought?
“This is great! I am so glad Loncon is a thing! Gee, wouldn’t it be great if they could come back in another year or so?”
“Ya know, Bob, I think they just might!”
Yeah, well, sorry, Bob. You’ll be waiting another eight years. But hey! It’s better than nothing, right?


“Wow! I’m 8 years older, more jaded and cynical than when I was last here, but at least there’s something like this to comfort me. But oh, I am truly a jaded old man. Gee, wouldn’t it be just great if they could come back a little faster this time? I’m sure it was all down to various factors beyond my understanding as to why they took so long, but at least I know it won’t be that far off. If anything, I’ll be seeing them again in 10 years! Ahahaha!”

Ahahahaha. I’d make the joke that I had the last laugh, but that would probably sound bad. But chances are… I did. Know why? Because chances are Bob’s dead. He probably died even more older, jaded and cynical because he was never afforded a final chance to experience Loncon.

49 years… pfft.

If you’re from the US, this might seem a little ridiculous to you. Now, granted, we live in the 21st century, and things such as plane tickets exist. If I had the money, I’d be going to these. But even then, I can still only realistically make it out to maybe one convention a year. If you’re an aspiring author trying to network, or at least just be around professionals and other aspirants, you’d want to attend conventions a bit more frequently than that.

Now, I think this is a good time to introduce you to one of my most prevalent qualities: sidetracking. I will derail and destroy the original purpose of anything any time. It’s obviously not intentional, and I’m certainly not the only person who does it. People who enjoy talking, I’ve noticed, have a tendency to do it. Or maybe it’s people who think a lot. Or both. Or neither? Regardless, if you’re planning on sticking around, it’s something you’d take care to be very, very aware of.

Understand the title might say: ‘What Is My Book About?’ and the closing line could be: “And that’s why I don’t like penguins”. You have been warned.

I was supposed to make a blog ages ago, but WordPress intimidated me… so I waited for a few months. I finally decided to just get on with it. Part of the reason I didn’t make one before was because I always used YouTube to create content. Even my writing channel isn’t that old. But I decided to take my writing seriously, because someone had to. I can say right now that my intentions are to use this blog to talk about whatever I fancy, but for a general sense, you can expect to hear (or read, rather) about some: writing and the industry (from a teen’s perspective), my thoughts/comments on books I’m reading/have read, video games, pet peeves, personal slice of life stories, my manuscript/planned stories, anime, occasionally politics, and just some general thoughts on life and the world.

One thing I tend to do is attack general wisdom. If you’re the kind of person who buys into everything you hear, or follow things just because they’re popular, then you’ll probably not enjoy your time here.

I would honestly love to talk about fantasy, writing, my manuscript, and the world… but right now I’m a bit tired. It’s nearly 9am, and I’ve barely slept because I was trying to figure out how to make this insufferable thing, but I’m glad I did because I like how it’s come out. That being said, it’s time for me to get some more sleep now. I’m not sure when this will be posted (probably later in the day), but I’m happy to say: welcome to my blog!

I hope you stick around, and if you’ve read this far, there must be something charming about me! Or you’re just bored…

Whatever the case, I’m done here! If you want to know more about me, read my future posts. You’ll get to know me quite well as time goes on.

Well, that’s all I’ve got to say, and I’m out!


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