I have a book coming out. I have another under my skin that needs to be released.

It takes a while for things to percolate in my mind.

I’m actually not sure how much I can share. I’m not good at sharing. I mean, I can share my snacks no problem. It’s the other kind of sharing. Information. I’m not so great at that. Which comes in handy when contracts come with big letters scrawled across the front like DO NOT TALK ABOUT THIS.

So I’m going to talk about how long it has taken this idea to become a book sized idea and not just a daydream on the periphery. I might make a post in future about the different elements I’m trying to bring together in this manuscript, but for now here is how it started.

I had pulsatile tinnitus. Blood rushing in my ear. I was sitting by the sea and reading a book and smoking a cigarette. A child ran past, did a double take, and skittered away to their parents.

I tried to smile but it felt like my mouth was too full of teeth and those teeth were sharp and maybe I wasn’t smiling, maybe I was snarling.

Somehow my bones felt like they were too big for the skin that was pulled over them, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be able to pass as a human being.

I had a bath in my hotel room so I soaked in searing water until I felt faint. The tinnitus got worse. I lay on the bed, trying to cool off. And I marvelled a little at how like a creature I felt sometimes.

I’ve read about it in a few places. Queer people, autistic people, what have you, associating with the non-human more than the human. The creature, the animal, the monster, the Other. I saw myself in those characters or archetypes much more easily than the hero.

Plus like. Weird cultural Catholic stuff. Shame and divine punishment, etc. But I think maybe that deserves its own post. Or several.

Anyway, I was thinking about how I felt wild and non-human. I took the feeling and made a short story.

It was one of the messiest things I’ve ever written in my adult life. It made no sense. It was all gut and vibe and atmosphere.

That story could go nowhere. But I liked the character I had made. This weird guy who’s kind of a creature and is filled with murderous rage. I knew he’d come back in something else, but when or how I wasn’t sure.

That was 2021. It wasn’t until 2023 that I had outlined the book he could star in. And I’m still not near finished.

The outline itself has changed drastically. I’ve made up a new country, blurred the lines between hagiography and psychotraumatology, and given my murderous creature a handler.

The initial draft is still in the works. Because kids, it is difficult to make a living on your writing alone. Sometimes the manuscript has to take a backseat while I scrounge up enough to pay for car insurance. Also I’m just not very quick. I need the pressure of someone demanding more for me to get off my butt and deliver.

Hopefully one day this story will also find its way into readers’ clutches. I’ll update you as the story grows.