Tag Archives: The Chalice War

Professional Wednesday: Learning From Each of Our Projects

Ideally, every new book and story we write is not just an adventure in imagination, a chance to discover new characters and settings and narratives, but also a learning opportunity. I continue to improve my writing with each project, and I try to do at least one thing new with each story or novel. For instance, while working on my short story for the Dragonesque anthology, which will be published later this year by Zombies Need Brains, I was aware that my editors (and good friends), Joshua Palmatier and S.C. Butler, both tend to cut out a few dialog tags from all the stories they edit. I was determined to make that impossible for them. And I wound up managing to write the entire story using only a single instance of “said” or “asked.” Let them find something else to cut! In doing this, I actually made the story leaner, more concise, and more fun to read.

The Chalice War: Stone, by David B. CoeWith this in mind, I thought it might be helpful to list a few things I learned, reminded myself of, and/or tried to do differently while writing my Chalice War trilogy, which debuts on Friday, May 5 (THIS FRIDAY) with the release of The Chalice War: Stone from Bell Bridge Books.

Journal about, well, everything: The first book in the Chalice War series includes a frenzied chase/trek across the U.S., and a series of climactic scenes that are set in Las Vegas. The second book is set in Australia — in Sydney, as well as in the tourist town of Kiama along the Illawarra coast. The third book is set in Ireland. I have driven across this country a few times, and I’ve been to all the places I just mentioned. I have driven into Vegas at night, approaching from the east, as my characters do. I have spent time along the Irish coast (although not quite the same part). I have spent a good deal of time in Kiama.

And I have journaled about all of these experiences. While writing descriptive passages for the books, I drew heavily on old journal entries (and also on my old photographs). I’ll admit this is not the first time I have drawn upon personal experiences and writings for this sort of thing. When I wrote the Fearsson books, I consulted journal entries from visits to the Sonoran Desert. Whenever I write in the Thieftaker world, I draw on old entries from my college years in New England. This is not a new lesson, so much as something I was reminded of while writing the Chalice books. But the value of the point is undeniable. The more we write, the better we get, and journaling helps us keep in practice, which is reason enough to do it. But it can also be a terrific source for material that we can adapt to our fiction, be it in the form of descriptive writing, character development, or even plot points.

Dude, lighten up: My books tend to be very serious. Bad things happen all the time to good people. The fate of the world hangs in the balance again and again and again. It’s kind of like Buffy’s tombstone from the finale of the fifth season of Buffy The Vampire Slayer — “She saved the world. A lot.” I’m not suggesting this is a bad thing. People return to my books because I keep the stakes high, and they like that.

And the stakes could not be higher in the Chalice War books. The fate of our world is balanced on a knife’s edge throughout all three volumes. Serious stuff.

But people who know me know that I enjoy laughing and that I joke around a lot. And in these books, really for the first time in my career, I rely heavily on humor. I won’t go so far as to call the books “light-hearted” or “romps” — the series is action-packed, and, as I say, the stakes could not be higher. Still, there is a lot in these pages that made me laugh as I wrote, and I expect the books will make my readers laugh as well. A lot.

Limit the number of POV characters: Early in my career, when I wrote my big, fat epic fantasies (The LonTobyn Chronicle, Winds of the Forelands, Blood of the Southlands), I used a vast array of point of view characters. I was writing big sweeping stories and had a cast to match. I went from those to Thieftaker and Fearsson, which both had, basically, one POV character (the first chapters of the second and third Fearsson books were written in other POVs, but then both books reverted to Jay). Noir-style mysteries, I felt, worked best when told from the perspective of the investigator. Later books (Islevale, Radiants) fell somewhere in between — more than one, but not as many as those huge stories I told early on.

With this newest trilogy, I tried something a little different. I needed more than one POV character, but I wanted to have a maximum of three in each book. And that’s pretty much what I did. Chapter one of books I and II are from different POVs, but after that I have two POV characters in Stone, the first book, and three POV characters in the others.

And I like the way the novels read with limited casts of this sort. There is enough variety in the voices to propel the books forward with each POV shift, but there are few enough narrators that my readers can grow comfortable with the characters and their personalities. Obviously, every story is different, and what works with one series won’t necessarily work with another, but going forward, I will look for opportunities to limit my cast of narrating characters to more manageable numbers.

I hope you will check out the new series. I really do believe you’ll enjoy the books.

In the meantime, keep writing!

Special Tuesday Post: The Chalice War — a Teaser

The Chalice War: Stone, by David B. CoeThree days until the release of the first Chalice War book, The Chalice War: Stone.

Here’s a teaser to whet your literary appetites!!

*****

She  lit a single candle and used that flame to burn the herb mix. Pale grey smoke hazed the room, the air around her redolent. Closing her eyes, Marti raised her chin and spoke to the ceiling.

“Macha, Goddess of War, harbinger of death, igniter of passion, I summon thee. I seek answers, I pledge faith, I foreswear trickery. Heed my call, honor old friendships, appear here before me.”

The smoke thickened, its scent mingling with that of the oils. Marti grew lightheaded, but nothing else happened. She thought about trying her summons again, but knew Alistar would have chided her for her impatience.

Furies, gods, and other ancient powers come at their leisure, he used to say. Invoke them a second time, and you run the risk of angering them, or worse, of imparting unintended meaning to your summons. That’s something you really don’t want to do.

Minutes dragged past. Against her better judgment—and Alistar’s—she prepared to try the incantation a second time. Before she could, she heard a woman’s voice say, “You forgot ‘trickster in battle.’ That one was always my favorite.”

“Never mind that,” came a second voice. “She didn’t even mention us.”

Marti stifled a groan. Macha, eldest of the battle Furies, was wise and powerful. More to the point, she had harbored some affection for Alistar. On her own, she might have been willing to help, which was why Marti invoked her by name. She didn’t wish to deal with Macha’s sisters, Badbh and Nemain, or to give Macha an excuse to show off. She should have known better. Summoning one of them was like trying to find a movie with only one of the Marx Brothers.

The three were known as the Morrigan, goddesses who had appeared throughout Celtic history, bringing war, death, and famine, and stoking the passions of men, whether lust for blood or sexual hunger. Depending on their moods, they might manifest as hags, or in their animal forms: Macha as a war horse, Badbh and Nemain as twin ravens.

A moment later, they stood before her, squinting in the dim light, waving their hands in front of their faces to disperse the smoke.

“Gods,” Macha said, “how I hate the smell of petitgrain.”

The last few times Marti had seen them, they had looked like this: young, curvy, glamorous. Macha had a thick mane of fiery red hair. Her green eyes were nearly a match for Marti’s, though her complexion was as pale as marble. The twins were brunettes, taller and thinner than their older sister, with bright blue eyes and dimpled cheeks. All three wore matching sequined dresses, cut low in the front and tight around the hips.

Macha smoothed her dress and brushed a wisp of hair from her brow. “Diana,” she said with a cold smile. “How nice to see you again.”

Marti stood. “Macha, thank you for coming.”

The twins laughed.

“We’re not going by the old names right now,” Macha told her, casting a quick scowl at her sisters. “We’ve landed a gig on the Strip in Vegas.” Her smile this time appeared genuine. “We’re headlining at the Scepter.”

“We’re the Morrigan Sisters now,” said one of the twins. Marti always had trouble telling them apart. “I’m Nellie, she’s Barb. Macha’s going by Maddie.”

Maddie?

“That sounds nice,” Marti said. “I’m glad for you.”

“Thanks,” Macha said. She walked a slow circle around the living room, stiletto heals clicking on the wood floors.

“New place?”

“Yes.”

“I was sorry to hear about Alistar,” the Fury said over her shoulder, with a toss of her hair. “I always liked him.”

Anguish lanced Marti’s heart. Seeing Macha exchange a glance and smirk with her sisters, she cursed herself. They didn’t give a damn about her or about Alistar. Macha wanted to evoke a reaction—always. Marti had made it too easy for her.

“You don’t look so good, Diana. Trouble with the Fomhoire?”

This time, the Fury made no effort to hide her amusement. Alistar once warned her about this, too. The Furies thrived on strife, violence, hatred. They rarely took sides in the conflict between Sidhe and Fomhoire. Rather, they did all they could to perpetuate it. She couldn’t trust any information they gave her, at least not fully. She could only hope to separate the useful tidbits from the manipulation.

Monday Musings: This Blog, My Books, Your Support

This Blog:

I want to say from the outset that I love maintaining this blog. I write my twice-weekly posts because I enjoy sharing my thoughts (on Mondays) and my writing tips (on Wednesdays). Writing on demand in this way is always good practice. Delving into various issues with the Musings posts often is therapeutic for me, and forcing myself to think about different craft issues on a weekly basis helps me continue to hone my own writing skills.

I will also admit, though, that maintaining the blog is time-consuming. Some weeks, the posts flow pretty easily. Other weeks, not so much. It can take me a full day to write the two essays, occasionally more than a day. That’s fine, too. As we all know, writing can be like that — easy one week, excruciating the next.

To state the obvious, I am not compensated in any way for my blogging. That has been by choice, and I do not intend to place a paywall between my readers and the content on my blog. That, I fear, would change the dynamic between my blogging and reader response to my posts, which feels very organic right now. I want to keep it that way. I have thought, though, about creating a Patreon (for those unfamiliar with Patreon, it offers creators a chance to gain financial backing from subscribers) and asking people to contribute voluntarily. If every person who visited my blog and every person who subscribed to it gave just one dollar per week, that would be ample compensation.

As I say, it’s something I’ve considered. But . . . .

My Books:

As I’ve already said, I maintain the blog because I enjoy doing so. But, to be perfectly honest, I also do it to bring traffic to my website. The calculus is a little convoluted, but it goes something like this: If people come to my site to read the blog, maybe they will stick around and look at the other pages. And if they look around, maybe they’ll become interested in my books, and maybe they’ll start buying and reading those books. As marketing strategies go, it is neither brilliant nor revolutionary, but I’m a fantasy writer, not a Madison Avenue executive, and it’s the best I’ve got.

And so, I am a little reluctant to set up a Patreon because in a way I already ask you for a financial contribution, don’t I? I make no secret of my desire for you to read my books. I write about them in my blog posts, I refer to them in my social media posts, I talk them up and even hand-sell them at the conventions I attend. If someone were to ask you, “What do you think David B. Coe wants from you?” you probably wouldn’t have to think too long and hard before coming up with, “Well, I guess he would like me to buy his books when they come out.”

The Chalice War: Stone, by David B. CoeLet’s back that up with a little math. I said a moment ago that, were I to start a Patreon, I would be happy with contributions of $1.00 per week, which comes to $52.00 for the year. Now, as it happens, I have the first book of a new trilogy coming out on Friday of this week, May 5th. This is The Chalice War: Stone, the first book in my new Celtic urban fantasy from Bell Bridge Books. The second book, The Chalice War: Cauldron, will be out in June, and the third book, The Chalice War: Sword, will be out soon after that. Each printed book lists for $17.95. Factor in sales tax, and the three books together would cost about $57 or $58, or about $1.12 per week. (If you read ebooks, the three together will cost a total of about $16, or $0.31 per week. What a bargain!!)

The Chalice War: Cauldron, by David B. CoeSo, for about what you might give to a Patreon, you could have all the blog posts AND all three books in the new series.

And so . . . .

Your Support:

Yes, with a Patreon, most of the money goes directly to the author. When you buy our books, we authors get a much smaller share of the proceeds. And yet, most authors I know would make that trade every day of the week and twice on Sunday. Why? Because we write! Because we LOVE to write! Because we have new ideas that we are eager to write and have published!

Much that we hear about the publishing industry sounds arcane and confusing, and many of us respond to elements of the business with amazement and dismay, wondering why anyone ever chose to set up an entire sector of the economy in quite this way. But boiled down to its most basic elements, the business model is pretty straightforward. Authors write books, publishers put out those books, readers purchase and read those books. And if all goes as it should, and readers do their part, authors get to write and publish more and more books. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Which brings me, at long last, to my point. I need for you to buy my books. It really is that simple. If you like the blog — if you navigate to my page on Mondays and Wednesdays, or if you subscribe to my feed and the posts come to your inbox — you know how much I love to write. I love it so much I do it for free twice every week. But I can only do that if the books move off the shelves and I get to write and publish more of them.

Your support is vital, not just for me, but for every author whose work you care about. Stories matter. The written word matters. Today, more than ever before. All over the world and, sadly, all over our country, self-expression is under assault from those who fear ideas. All over the world, and all over our country, literature is dying a death of a thousand cuts: book bannings, apathy, the allure of gaming and television and social media. Books and authors need the passion and commitment of readers, just as readers need the passion and commitment of writers.

And, to state the obvious, authors need to make a buck. This is our passion, our obsession, our craft and art. It is also our livelihood.

So, please, enjoy my blog posts. If you’ve missed any recently, feel free to go back and read through the archives. And take a look around the site. Make yourself at home, and rest assured that I’ll be back with another post on Wednesday, and with more in the weeks to come. But also please consider that when you buy my books, and those of other authors, you not only get those stories, you also make possible all the content we make available to you.

Thanks for reading this. Have a great week.

Professional Wednesday: Eliminating Excess Verbiage, Part I

The Chalice War: Cauldron, by David B. CoeAs I mentioned in a recent post, I have been doing a tremendous amount of editing and revising these past several months. Between co-editing (with Edmund Schubert) the Artifice and Craft anthology for Zombies Need Brains, revising my upcoming Chalice War trilogy, and working on manuscripts for clients of my freelance editing business, I have been through literally half a million words of text! And that is to be expected. Books and stories require careful editing and committed revision to reach their fullest potential.

During this time I have noticed, in my own work and in the prose of others, certain phrases and verbal habits that make our writing wordier, and therefore less effective, than it needs to be. Last week, I drew upon one of my old Magical Words post for inspiration to revisit a writing issue, and I thought I would do the same thing this week. Our topic today: cutting excess verbiage.

Just about all of us use more words than we should in our initial drafts. Hence that need for editing I mentioned above. With experience comes the ability to catch at least some of our worst writing habits. And yet, I have been writing professionally for more than twenty-five years, and I still fail to see all of them on my first revision pass. Fortunately, I have a wonderful editor who catches the wordy constructions I miss. (Be forewarned: She’s not editing this, so . . . well . . . yeah.)

Still, in revising my own work, and editing that of others, I have noticed a few patterns that all of us should watch for in our prose.

Passive constructions: Passing writing takes a number of forms, but at its most basic it uses weak verb constructions that rely on forms of the verb “to be.” These include “is,” “was,” ”are,”“were,” etc. Instead of “He ran” or “she speaks,” passive writers might say, “He was running” or “She is speaking.” Yes, in these examples passive constructions add only one word, but the damage goes far beyond word counts. Passive writing can flatten our prose, making it less powerful and less impactful. Or, put in another, stronger way . . . . Passive writing flattens our prose, robbing it of power, of impact. To state the obvious, we can’t remove every “to be” verb construction from our writing, at least not without relying on tortured syntax. Sometimes there is no other way to say what we want to say. (See what I did there?) We can, however, look for every opportunity to change a weak, passive phrase into a strong, active one.

Distancing phrases: When writing fiction, we should always be in a character’s point of view. Usually I try to avoid blanket statements of hard and fast rules, but I feel strongly about this. Point of view is the greatest tool we possess as writers. We should use it. One reason why? POV makes distancing phrases “he felt,” “she heard,” “they saw,” etc. unnecessary. “She heard cannon fire booming in the distance.” “He felt the house tremble with the rumble of thunder.” Those sentences are fine, but they’re unnecessarily wordy. In each case, we’re in a character’s point of view, and so the “she heard” and the “he felt” are redundant. If she experiences the sound, we KNOW she heard it. If he experiences the movement of the house, we KNOW he felt it. So . . . . “Cannon fire boomed in the distance.” “A rumble of thunder shook the house” or “The house trembled with a rumble of thunder.” Either works. Both are better than the original construction.

How about this one? “They could see dust rising from the road as a company of horsemen approached.” Here we have lots of unnecessary verbiage. Starting with the “They could see.” Again, we’re in a character’s point of view, and that character is part of the “they.” We also have the “as” phrase, which less experienced writers also tend to overuse. If we present cause and effect with clarity, words like “as” and “while” become unnecessary. So . . . “Horsemen approached, dust billowing from the road in their wake.” More concise, more powerful, more evocative. When we use words like “saw,” “felt,” “heard,” we TELL our readers what is happening. With more direct language, we SHOW them, which is always preferable.

Including mannerisms of speech in our prose: Humans are, as a species, remarkably inarticulate creatures. When giving advice on writing dialogue, I often tell writers to have their characters speak not as we do, but as we wish we did. This by way of eliminating “er”s and “um”s, “you know”s and “like”s, and all the repetitions and circularities of everyday speech. But there are other ways in which our speech patterns infect our prose. Just a moment ago, I started a sentence like this: “One thing we can do to improve our writing is . . . .” That is a TERRIBLE phrase. Just awful. I caught myself immediately and rewrote the offending sentence. Often, however, such phrases slip by our internal editors and find their way into early drafts. When we speak, we use roundabout constructions like that one to gather our thoughts, and we do it without even thinking. It’s a way of answering a question or opening a conversation with something other than a) silence, or b) inarticulate rambling. The thing is (and yes, “The thing is” is another example of the same phenomenon) when we write, we don’t need those filler phrases. Indeed, we don’t want them. They add clutter to our writing. We can’t possibly anticipate all the nonsense phrases that might slip into our prose in this way, but we can watch for them, recognize them when they crop up, and eliminate them.

Next week, I will continue this discussion of excess verbiage in our written work.

For now, keep writing!!

Professional Wednesday: 2023 Is 1/4 Gone — What Have You Done?

Spring is here. April is knocking on the door. 2023 is just about one quarter gone (a thought that sends me into a frenzied panic) and with the first three months of the year nearly over, I felt this would be a good time to pause and take stock of my goals and accomplishments so far. Care to join me?

The end of March is significant for me, because my convention season is about to begin. Yes, I sometimes have an event or two early in the year, but most years my professional travel begins in earnest with the onset of spring. 2023 promises to be no different in this regard, and the truth is I feel like I have been stuck in second gear since the beginning of the calendar year.

I keep a day book, a sort of diary, using my Sierra Club Engagement Calendar. I write down key events of each day, important conversations I might have had, and, most notably for the purposes of this post, an accounting of the work I have gotten done daily. I do this for myself (although it is also helpful occasionally in settling arguments about the timing of certain things . . . .) for moments like the one I’m having right now, when I wonder if I have actually accomplished anything at all.

I HAVE gotten work done this year. A lot of it has involved editing — the Artifice and Craft anthology I’m editing for Zombies Need Brains, edits on my upcoming Celtic urban fantasy series, and editing I do for clients. This is all important work, but it doesn’t leave me much to show for my efforts. When I’m writing a book, I can point to my page count or word count. With editing . . . my track-changes count? It just isn’t as satisfying.

Add to that the week-plus that I lost to Covid, and some travel I’ve done, and I can account for all the time that has passed since New Year’s. But aside from my short story for another ZNB anthology, Dragonesque, and a couple of dozen blog posts, I haven’t written much of anything this year. I think that is what’s bothering me. I get grumpy when I don’t write enough, and I’m feeling grumpy.

The Chalice War: Cauldron, by David B. CoeI also know that what has been a quiet year thus far is about to get very, very busy. Starting in May, we (Bell Bridge Books and I) will be releasing The Chalice War trilogy, the aforementioned Celtic urban fantasy. The first book, The Chalice War: Stone, will be out that month, followed closely by The Chalice War: Cauldron, and, sometime in the summer, The Chalice War: Sword. I can’t wait. Sword will be my thirtieth (yes, 30th) published book.

Also this summer, Zombies Need Brains will release Artifice and Craft, my 5th edited anthology, and Dragonesque, which will include “Reenactment,” my 30th published short story.

In April, I will attend JordanCon (Atlanta). In early June, I will attend ConCarolinas (Charlotte), and later that same month I will be at LibertyCon (Chattanooga).

I have recently been accepted into the Launch Pad Astronomy Workshop, which is taught in late May at the University of Wyoming in Laramie. Launch Pad is a week-long workshop on all things related to space and space travel taught specifically for writers and editors. It offers an amazing opportunity to learn about these fascinating topics from professional scholars who also happen to have backgrounds in SF. I have been considering a new science fiction project, one that would be a dramatic departure from anything I’ve written before. Launch Pad will be invaluable in preparing me to write those stories.

We have family travel on the schedule for July, following an important professional transition for Nancy at the end of June. And then I will be attending DragonCon (Atlanta) in late August/early September.

Jacket art for Bonds of Vengeance, book III in Winds of the Forelands, by David B. Coe (Jacket art by Romas Kukalis)I have two other projects underway as well. A nonfiction thing that I am not ready to discuss in detail, and, at long last, the editing of the Winds of the Forelands books for re-release in late 2023 or early 2024. And I have another writing project — a collaborative undertaking — that I also cannot describe in detail, simply because I am not the organizing force behind the project, so it is not mine to reveal. But I am excited about it.

And I have a possible tie-in project looming, which is not certain enough to reveal at this time.

I know: There’s a lot of secrecy in this post. My apologies. There is also a mixed message. On the one hand, I feel a bit stuck and dissatisfied with what I have done so far this year. But I am also excited about what is about to come and a bit overwhelmed with all that looms on my professional calendar.

At the beginning of the year, I had a sense of things I wanted to get done in 2023. My life has been filled with enough uncertainty over the past few years, that I knew better than to fill out a work schedule in ink. But I had goals; I still do, and they remain much the same. The busier calendar on my work horizon won’t make it any easier to get work done. Or will it? I work better when my deadlines are immutable, and once I have revised the third Chalice War book, I will be finished  with most of my editing duties for the year. More time for writing — yay!!

So, that’s where I am at the 1/4 mark. Where are you?

Keep writing!

Creative Friday: THE CHALICE WAR: CAULDRON Cover Reveal!!

The Chalice War: Stone, by David B. CoeAs I have mentioned previously, the release of the first book in my upcoming Celtic urban fantasy, The Chalice War (Bell Bridge Books), has been delayed. We had hoped for February. It will be May.

After that, though, the other two books in the trilogy will come fairly quickly. You have already seen the gorgeous art for book I, THE CHALICE WAR: STONE, and yet I offer it again above. Because how can you see it enough, right?

And today, I offer as well, the cover reveal for book II, THE CHALICE WAR: CAULDRON. I am so jazzed about the look of these novels. Book II is set in Australia — in Sydney and its surrounds — where my family and I lived for a year back in 2005-2006. It was so fun to revisit our experiences there as I wrote the various scenes. And that bird on the cover is an Australian Magpie.

So, there it is! Enjoy!

The Chalice War: Cauldron, by David B. Coe

Professional Wednesday: What Matters In Your Work? Part I

On Monday, I began what will be a series of posts on the things that matter to us, and the ways in which we can make them central to our lives. Not surprisingly, I think about this a great deal with respect to my writing. And I believe all of us, no matter where we are in our careers, can benefit from this sort of thinking.

As with the broader topic, I expect that the question “What matters?” will inform the next few Professional Wednesday posts. Today, I want to take on the question in its broadest sense.

At the start of each year, I spend some time mapping out the coming months, trying to make certain that I schedule my work for the year to come, the various projects I hope to complete, in a way that will maximize my productivity without setting myself up for failure by giving myself unrealistic deadlines or overly ambitious timetables for the completion of manuscripts. It’s a process I’ve written about a couple of times in the past month or so. (Find other posts here and here.)

Creating a work calendar for the year is about more than time management, though. It is also about prioritizing. It is about answering the question “What matters?”

We all have projects we care about and goals that stir our passions. For some, “what matters” is that novel we’ve been trying for years to finish. For others, “what matters” is finally getting that first professional sale, either of a book or a short story. And for others still, “what matters” may simply be finally making writing a daily or weekly habit — getting started on a road that may not reach its final destination this year, but that at least begins here and now.

Whatever your “what matters” might be, it should inform your planning for the coming year.

The Chalice War-Stone, by David B. CoeWhat matters to me? Professionally, for this coming year, a few things. I have a series debuting in February. I want to promote the hell out of it. I want to feel at the end of the release windows — the weeks immediately preceding and following the releases of the three books — that I have done all I could to make the series successful. I also have an old series that I want to re-release. I’ve been talking about doing this for several years now, and each year I have found other projects to take up my time and energy. But this series, Winds of the Forelands, is one about which I am passionate. This is the year I bring it out again. It matters to me. And I want to start something new, a series that will take me in a new direction, I have resisted starting it for a couple of years, I believe because I am intimidated by the magnitude of what I’m taking on. It’s time to get over my hesitation.

Jacket art for Bonds of Vengeance, book III in Winds of the Forelands, by David B. Coe (Jacket art by Romas Kukalis)What about you? I’m not merely asking what you wish to accomplish, though obviously that’s part of the equation. I’m asking as well what you care about. Sure, maybe you want to be published — or at least contracted — by year’s end. That’s a laudable goal. But what project will get you there? What story is burning brightest inside you? What work will bring you joy? What project is most likely to tap into your greatest creative passion? That ought to be part of the equation as well.

Our professional pursuits are not just about what ambitions we’ll realize. They’re also about what matters most to us as artists. Writing, like all acts of creation, is about more than sales and “success,” however we might define that word. Writing is an act of love. This business is too hard, too fickle, too cruel, to be approached solely as a bottom-line endeavor. Often, the truest satisfaction we can hope to draw from our work is the self-recognition of our own achievement. And ultimately, I would argue, our own pride and sense of accomplishment ought to be what matters most.

So as you begin 2023 — and I hope it is a year of accomplishment and satisfaction for all of you — ask yourself “What matters?” Because I guarantee you, if the work — the concept, the narrative, the characters, the settings — matters to you, that emotional connection to the project will show up in your writing. “What matters” is not just about warm and fuzzy feelings. Answering the question will point you toward the most powerful expression of your creative vision.

Keep writing.

Professional Wednesday: Planning For Next Year — Try Something New!

The Chalice War-Stone, by David B. CoeAs you know, early in 2023 I will be coming out with a new urban fantasy series that is steeped in Celtic mythology. Before working on this series, I hadn’t known much about Celtic lore. But I did my research, learned all I could, and then started to imagine ways in which I might blend those Celtic traditions with my vision for the stories I wanted to write. I tried to be respectful of traditions that are not my own, while also having fun and writing something I hoped would be fun for my readers.

INVASIVES, by David B. Coe (Jacket art courtesy of Belle Books)Two years ago at this time, I was revising Radiants and starting to organize my plans for Invasives, the second book in the sequence. I had never written a supernatural thriller before, but I had the idea and wanted to give it a go.

Two years before that I had just released the second Islevale book and was working on Time’s Demon, the second book in the trilogy. These were my first forays into writing time travel and while I knew there were tremendous pitfalls to writing in that particular subgenre, I wanted to give it a try. Plotting a time travel series is probably the most challenging thing I’ve ever attempted as a professional writer; I doubt I will ever try it again, but I’m glad I did it once.

TIME'S DEMON, by D.B. Jackson (Art by Jan Weßbecher)Around that same time, I was also reading submissions for the Temporally Deactivated anthology, my first co-editing venture. Last year I opened my freelance editing business, and a year ago at this time, I was editing a manuscript for a client.

Back in 2015-2016, again at this time of year, I was working on the Author’s Edit of the LonTobyn Chronicle, my first series. Up until then, I had never re-released any of my old work, but I had the rights back, and I knew I could improve the books with a deep edit of the original manuscripts.

Yes, there is a point to all of this.

Temporally Deactivated, edited by David B. Coe and Joshua B. PalmatierLast week, I wrote about planning out my professional activities for the coming year. This week, I want to discuss a different element of professional planning. My point in starting off with a list of those projects from past years is that just about every year, I try to take on a new challenge, something I’ve never attempted before. I didn’t start off doing this consciously — I didn’t say to myself, “I’m going to start doing something new each year, just to shake things up.” It just sort of happened.

Children of Amarid, by David B. Coe (jacket art by Romas Kukalis)As it turns out, these new challenges have brought me to a place where I can say, in all candor, that I have never been happier in my work than I am now. Each time I try something new, I reinvigorate myself as a creator. I force myself out of the tried-and-true, the comfortable. With each of the new projects I mentioned above I had a moment of doubt. I wondered if I was capable of accomplishing what I set out to do. Now, I’m a pretty confident guy when it comes to my writing chops and my ability to help others improve their writing, so those doubts didn’t last long. But they were there each time.

Indeed, part of the joy of taking on the projects lay in pushing myself, in overcoming the doubts and getting the work done. As I’ve written before, writing is hard in any number of ways. We help ourselves when we can self-define our successes, rather than relying on a fickle, difficult marketplace to define them for us. Each of the aforementioned projects boosted my sense of self worth.

The Loyalist Witch, by D.B. Jackson (Jacket art by Chris McGrath)But those new challenges did more than that. They kept my professional routine fresh. I am a creature of habit. I try to write/edit/work every day, so in a general sense, my work days and work weeks don’t change all that much. By varying the content of my job — by writing new kinds of stories and expanding my professional portfolio to include editing as well as writing — I made the routine feel new and shiny and exciting. And at the same time, these new projects made it possible to return to some old favorites, notably the Thieftaker series, with renewed enthusiasm.

I also made myself better at my craft and deepened my understanding of and appreciation for the nuances of storytelling. I learned a ton by revising my first books. I saw old mistakes that I was still making, and also gained a fresh appreciation for the ways I had improved as a writer. Writing time travel strengthened my plotting by forcing me to look for the loose ends that might have escaped my notice had my characters not possessed the ability to go back in time and undo my choices! Editing has taught me a ton about my own writing by showing me, in unfamiliar narrative contexts, what story elements work best (and worst).

My point is this: As you begin to plan your professional activities and ambitions for 2023, try to put in your calendar something new and different. It is fine to set as a goal the completion of that novel you’ve been working on for a long time, or the publication of a series you’ve had written for a little while now but haven’t yet sent out into the world. Those are laudable aims, and I wish you every success with them.

But maybe you’ve never tried writing short fiction, or you’ve written stories but never submitted any of them. Maybe you’ve written fantasy but never tried science fiction, or thrillers, or romance. Set as a goal for 2023 taking on one of those new tasks. Allow yourself to accomplish something unfamiliar. At the very least, doing so will force you to grow as an artist, which is always a good thing. And perhaps you will discover a previously unexplored talent and passion for something you hadn’t even considered trying.

Best of luck, and keep writing!

Professional Wednesday: The Chalice War, Book I Cover Reveal!!

For some time now, I’ve been writing about and teasing my new Celtic urban fantasy, The Chalice War. The series is part thriller, part comedy, part myth, part urban fantasy, part mystery. It is set in our modern world — all over it, in fact: book I takes place in the U.S.; book II shifts the action to Australia, and book III is set in Ireland — but the series also draws heavily on Celtic lore. It is unlike anything I’ve written before. Each volume was a ton of fun to write, and will be, I hope, just as much fun to read. I love these books and I am incredibly excited about their upcoming release.

The first book, The Chalice War: Stone, should be out from Bell Bridge Books in February 2023. The second book, The Chalice War: Cauldron, will follow within a month or two, and the trilogy’s finale, The Chalice War: Sword, will drop not too long after that.

Today, I am delighted to share with you the incredible jacket art for book I, which was created by my brilliant editor and publisher, Debra Dixon. Drumroll please . . . .

The Chalice War-Stone, by David B. Coe

Wednesday Musings: Thanksgiving and Some People To Thank

The past couple of years, usually on the Monday of this calendar week, I have written about Thanksgiving — last year a catalogue of all the things for which I’m thankful (the list still holds), and the year before, ahead of the country’s first Covid Thanksgiving, a rambling remembrance of holidays past that still makes me laugh when I read it over. For obvious reasons, I didn’t feel like writing such a post for this past Monday. But with the holiday upon, I thought I would try again.

I don’t know how to approach a Thanksgiving post this year without repeating myself from those previous posts, and yet here I am making the attempt. And maybe repetition in this context isn’t the worst thing in the world. The things for which I am thankful year in and year out remain remarkably consistent — boring for a blog, but gratifying in every other way. My marriage, my children, my extended family and friends and fans, my career, and, of course, the good fortune of having a home, food in our pantry, health care access, and so many other blessings that too many people lack.

As I have said before, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, in part because it forces me to take stock, to set aside the petty grievances that too often cloud my mood, and recognize that in the important ways, despite real and serious problems in our lives, my loved ones and I are doing okay. We live, it often seems, at 75 mph, the world blurring past as we try to complete our work, take care of our chores, see to our obligations. Even when we are “on vacation” or taking a bit of time off, we try to squeeze in so much that the relaxed times feel rushed.

To me, Thanksgiving is a time to slow down, to focus on the now, on those things that matter most. It is a time to inhale deeply and say, “Right now, in this moment, I am grateful for _______.” The things we fret about, the things that inconvenience and nettle and worse — they’ll still be there the day after Thanksgiving (in fact, they’ll probably be on special…). They’re not going anywhere. So why not push them away for a while and accentuate the positive? This from a confirmed, life-long pessimist.

In any case, I will hop down off the soapbox now. And I will share with you a brief list of very important people, outside my circle of friends and family, who have made an enormous difference in my life this year. Their mention here is small thanks for all they have done for me and my family.

1. I am thankful for my therapist, a woman named Rebecca, who has been absolutely incredible to work with. She is insightful, gentle, funny. Best of all she gets me and understands when to push me and when to let me stumble into truths on my own. I have learned so much from our time working together, and feel better equipped than I have ever been to deal with the uncertainties of this crazy world.

2. I am thankful for my editor, the marvelous Debra Dixon, who has been an amazing creative partner, mentor, critic, and booster. She is terrific with artwork. She did the gorgeous covers for the Radiants books, and she has done a fabulous job with the first book of the The Chalice War, the Celtic urban fantasy about which I’ve told you all so much. You’ll see a reveal of the cover not too long from now.

3. My older daughter’s oncologist, who shall remain nameless so as to protect my daughter’s privacy, is just terrific. He is compassionate, honest, brilliant, devoted to our child and her battle with cancer, and willing to communicate with us whenever we have the need (so long as our daughter has given her okay, of course). We know he can’t perform miracles, but he has our daughter’s complete trust, respect, and affection, and that is all we can ask.

I wish these three a glorious Thanksgiving, and I wish the same to all of you. May your day be filled with laughter, joy, and the companionship of people you love. And may the year to come be filled with blessings large and small.

Happy Thanksgiving.