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    Chapter 7 - The One That Feels

    Serials
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    Work on the super secret work in progress continues. That had impacted the rest of my posting pretty much everywhere, but I refuse to get behind in posting my serial for readers. 

    So today we have Chapter 7. When I first started writing this story, I didn't know it was going to be fantasy. I had imagined some tangled web of emotional struggle between Brian and Thommas and Jordan. When Thommas stepped into Jordan's mind in Chapter 4, I thought for sure, that was the story, Thommas searching Jordan's mind.

    Then Janice demanded something, and I learned of Om, and of the Realm and the story took a rather different turn than I expected. But still, I thought this was Brian's story as well as that of Thommas. 

    I was wrong. Soon I would learn the story belonged to the Prince of Zaharoth.

    Feeling lost? Need to start at the beginning? Check The One That Feels out from Chapter 1!

    ​Chapter 7
    By the time we returned to the hospital room, Mrs. Blackmun had grown more than a little pale. There was no easy route through the realm of Zaharoth back to the real, and she had come to understand how dangerous a little knowledge could be, and also how much she appreciated the real.
     
    Her husband grunted when we returned, but Brian looked at her face for a few moments, examining the shock that was plainly written there. “You showed her, then,” he said.
     
    I met his gaze. “I had little choice.”
     
    Brian sighed and nodded, then glanced back at the half-dead sleeping form of his lover. His voice was pained and soft, and it came out as though he had to push to get the words out. “He isn’t any better,” he choked out.

    ​​“I didn’t expect he would be,” I said, setting a hand on Brian’s shoulder, “but there was always the hope he might find his way back to you on his own.”
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    Chapter 6 - The One That Feels

    Serials
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     This is where the fantasy starts to get real. Thommas has entered the realm with Janice to show her the shadow of the world that her son Jordan sees, taking her to see her son face to face as he exists in the realm: a child of Om. This chapter also brings the introduction of the Prince of Zaharoth. 

    I know the story takes some time to get rolling; this is where the shit starts to really hit the fan. 

    Behind? Check out chapter one of The One That Feels. Confused? Want to know more about one of the characters? Let me know in the comments! (Don't forget to click on the "Read More" link to read the whole chapter)

    ​​Chapter 6
    Janice clutched my hand tightly and I heard her begin to form words several times, but each time she thought better of it and simply followed me through the dull gray existence that made up the realm in this place.
     
    When we finally walked into Jordan’s room, I heard a little gasp from her as she pulled her hand away from mine, but I did not let her go. I pulled her into the room and then I closed the door and upon its surface I drew wards of power. And only then did I allow her to slip her hand away.
     
    The only light within came from the radiance of her skin, that infusion of life and power that I had made to sustain and protect her in this place, for few in the world of the living have such a love of life, not now, not in the modern age. But in that glow she saw something very different than the mortal world, for Jordan lay on a great bed of pillows, silk, and over him there was no roof, but only the shade of an immense tree whose branches rose above the room in a great canopy. And the walls, the walls were stone and etched, so carefully etched with runes like those I had scribed upon the door. 
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    Wearing the Mask - Why I wear Tropical Shirts to Work

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    I had a really busy day today. Where yesterday was characterized by my elderly pug having issues, today was the sort of work day where I really wanted to cry a little. Okay, a lot. I won't go into the whys or wherefores, but the essence of it is this: something not in any way under my control at work got messed up and it impacted a major deadline for Friday. In the meantime, the precious few days I have to accomplish this task have been swallowed whole by a multitude of appointments.

    It has me a bit stressed out. Which is not unusual for the writer with the day job.

    I'm bipolar, and have social anxiety that impacts my ability to function on a daily basis. People don't get that, because I do really well at appearing to function. When I read Poppy Dennison's post today about the importance of being nice, it couldn't help but resonate. See, I'm on social media a lot—as an author I need to be. But social media, especially Facebook, can be a den of nightmares. Everything seems to be a judgment: You must do THIS. How dare THEY do THAT. If THIS doesn't happen, your world will be over. Everything you eat is DANGEROUS. Don't you care about THIS, and THAT and the OTHER THING! You are a horrible human being for not caring enough!

    The problem is that I do care. I care so much that I've had to shut most of those notifications off. And even shut off through careful filtering and unfollowing, I still get notifications. It creates a field of negativity. Between that and the work stuff, I've struggled to keep my masks on. I've done the usual stuff. I've kept the whiteboard notices on my door. I've played music (mostly upbeat dance), I've set aside the critical work to do the things in my job that keep me going. But I still have this task, and it weighs on me.

    When I know I'm going to have a day like this I dress for it. In college that meant wearing a suit to feel powerful against it. I still do that sometimes. But usually I settle for a tropical shirt. A bright cheery reminder. Something that will look good even on a guy my size. I have a couple dozen to choose from in sizes from XXL to 4XL—just to be sure that I have one I can wear. Because as silly as it sounds, that bright fabric between me and the world matters. It's a shield, and yet it's me.

    So tomorrow, a day I've isolated from the appointments and on which the main task giver is away, I will wear a tropical shirt. A new one in 4XL that won't tug against my chest. I won't worry about looking fat. My tropical shirt will be my shield. My quirky whiteboard message will be my wingman, providing just enough distraction that I can get my job done. 

    I don't know if it will be enough. 

    I know I'm not the only one who gets stressed out at work. How do you deal with it? Let me know in the comments (and don't forget to sign up for the newsletter)! 
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    Getting Back on Schedule

    Blog Talk Puppies
    True believers (no, really, I'm not Stan Lee), I'm making a brief post tonight about posting. Why? Because posting hasn't been consistent, and it needs to be. So here's the deal:

    The goal is for there to be two posts that are part of the The One That Feels serialization every month. These are intended to be posted on MONDAYS - once in about the middle of the month and once at the end.

    There will often (but not always) be a post on off weeks. I am really trying hard to make those posts happen on Mondays also, but this week—because of this post—it will happen on Tuesday instead.

    There will be occasional posts relating to current events (sometimes about how they relate to my stories, and sometimes just because I'm a person and current events are important) outside of this Monday-as-posting-day framework.

    So that's the schedule. How does that look? well, for starters it means that this month fudges that schedule good.  For serial posts the schedule looks like this:
    • Chapter 6: Monday July 18
    • Chapter 7: Monday August 1
    • Chapter 8: Monday August 15
    • Chapter 9: Monday August 29

    That should put us back on schedule for The One That Feels, and come September we should be back to the schedule as planned. I am working hard at balancing content between platforms, and the introduction of Dreamspinner's update feature is both a blessing and a curse. My latest post "Sticks and Stones" was made entirely on their platform. I was feeling really good about that until I remembered it created a gap for readers here.

    So I will be making a concerted effort to be posting regularly, with a particular focus to making sure my serial posts are on time and that posts elsewhere are not resulting in this space for readers being abandoned.

    Today is All American Pet Photo Day. Who decreed this, and why, I'm not sure, but it coincided with the day Facebook decided in its wisdom to show an old post from when I first moved into the new house (that's a year ago) of Piggy, one of the first times she actually got comfortable in my new office. It made me think a lot about her. She was determined to always be in the same room as me, but didn't like to be held, so pictures of us holding her are pretty rare. Most are like this one, and she has that terrified "I'm being held" look that means that probably two seconds after this was taken she was trying to wriggle out of my grasp. One never really got to hold Piggy for more than about 10 or 15 seconds. Still, because of that look, which was so very like her, it is a poignant reminder for me of what I lost when she passed in November.

    Do you have pets? Tell me how you feel about pets in your gay romances in the comments!
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    Chapter 5 - The One That Feels

    Serials
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    This month chewed me up and spit me out, but I was determined to get this piece out. It's easy to miss early on how The One That Feels is also a fantasy story, and this chapter really makes the fantasy element plain even more than Thommas's journey into Jordan's mind from Chapter 4.

    After speaking with Jordan's mind and determining that Jordan is alive, barely, Thommas finds himself face to face with a determined mother, who wants to know the truth about her son. 

    New to the story? Pick it up from the beginning. New chapters are posted in the middle and at the end of each month.

    *for the record, I've had someone ask and I'm sure I did say this already, but this story is complete and I intend to continue posting until all chapters have been posted. 

    Chapter 5
    I woke to Brian’s anxious eyes and the harsh odor of smelling salts. I turned to Brian, ignoring the hovering nurse as I pulled myself up on my elbows. “The ties are tenuous, Bri.”
     
    “You can bring him back…”
     
    “Perhaps,” I said, catching the eyes of the nurse as she glared at me and grasped my wrist to check my pulse. I sighed and looked back at Brian. “He is very broken, Bri. You might want to consider—”
     
    “No,” said Brian, shaking his head vigorously. “I didn’t bring you here just for you to let him go.”
     
    “But you gave me the authority.”
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    Chapter 4 - The One That Feels

    Serials
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    I've been behind on a lot of things over the past few weeks, and I'm sorry. I've tried to keep folks up to date on social media, but the gist is two things. First, I spent four full weeks, including my one week vacation, sick. Then Orlando happened, and with it the realization that I'd lost a colleague in the shooting. I'm pretty good at keeping distance between horrible events, it's part of my coping mechanism. But knowing someone who died that night has made it really hard for me to function. I'm frozen between grief and fear and it makes being creative very hard.

    So I gave myself the week to try to process, as best I could. Now I'm full catch up mode. Part of that is the serial. While this episode is late, I want to be clear that the end of the month post will still be happening on schedule (so there will be a shorter wait for chapter 5!)

    Here it is, chapter 4 of     The One That Feels. I'll be posting chapters twice monthly, once in the middle of the month and once at the end. (note, only the first three paragraphs appear in blog view, you need to click "Read More" at the bottom right for the full text of the chapter)

    Chapter 1 can be found in an earlier entry if you have not yet started the story, and there is also a prelude to The One That Feels in the April 2016 issue of ARDOR. I also encourage you to sign up for the email version of the newsletter.

    Chapter 4
    ​The world was a featureless plain, pure black below with a sky of dusky gray above. So it was going to be like this. Had I known Jordan better, I would have had a better idea of which way to go. Instead, I studied each direction briefly, but the defenses of a drug addict were powerful things, and this featureless plain… I had to think that I knew what it represented. I just couldn’t focus. I felt so week, muddled. It was the drugs. The ones that had tortured him and the ones that they had pumped into him. I had absorbed too much of the toxins within his body to be completely rid of them, and then given of my own strength to make his body well.
     
    What remained of his mind, that part that was tied to his body in the real, was laid out in the blank landscape. It couldn’t all be gone. I had to hope it wasn’t all gone, for if he had truly fled completely leaving only this, there would be no bringing him back. Lacking any waypoints, I picked a direction and walked, thankful for the fact that at least the emptiness upon which I walked was acting like solid ground, at least for the moment.
     
    Brian loved this boy. I needed the reminder. There was very little else about Jordan for me to like. He was young, and beautiful, and stupid. No, that wasn’t fair. I just liked to think of him as stupid, because I resented losing Brian. He was hurt. He hadn’t started on drugs out of stupidity. He had done it because he was hurt. I had my suspicions as to why, but if I knew for certain I might fathom why he’d risk the one stability in his life, Brian, and overdose. Brian had said it was an accident, but Jordan had been a druggie for a long time, far longer than the five years they’d been together. What had Jordan seen? What had driven him to the brink of loss? Why would he give up Brian, who had long since committed to the relationship, to being with Jordan no matter what. They had dealt with scares before. Did Jordan really hate himself that much?