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Read more about Girls in Capes book club in Main Line Today!

Inspiring person. I hope she goes far with Girls in Capes.

Feliza Casano

After a few months of sitting on this pretty exciting news, I can finally share the exciting news: I was profiled in Main Line Today’s February 2016 issue!

That sense of being “other” extended to her predilection for reading. Casano could read by the time she was 3 years old. Her earliest experience with fiction came in sixth grade. The book: Tamora Pierce’s Protector of the Small

Read the full article at Main Line Today.

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teachingsmall

Four Years Later

Adjuncting is the worst. The pay sucks, there’s no benefits, they rewrote the rules so Obamacare doesn’t apply to us, you technically don’t get paid for the majority of the work you do, and even congress has compared it to indentured servitude before doing jack shit about it. Students are often disrespectful and most of them don’t even want to be there, and then when they screw up, complain to your boss who is now more likely to give in to the student because enrollment is down and make you the bad buy for having a work ethic. Wait, where was I going with this. Bad pay, no benefits, it sucks, yada yada yada…oh, right…

Sometimes, it rewards you with the best fucking feeling ever. Continue reading

working

Nobody Reads Blogs (or: If You Are a Writer, You Need to Have a Blog)

Conflicting statements, right? One comes from the small press who published my novel Trading Saints for Sinners. The other is from a panel on social media and writers. The problem is, and I am guessing a lot of writers are trying to figure this out, how do you have an online writing presence (not twitter or facebook status updates) if getting people to read your blog is difficult? Is it a hope for the best situation? Do you just keep writing, sharing, and hope you don’t cross that line of SPAM-ing your social media feeds going “PLEASE READ THIS! PLEEEEEAAAAASSSSSEEEE! Ohandmaybebuymybook. READ MY BLOG!” Is Blog even the right word anymore? I read Peter David’s blog on occasion, but I’m not even the best follower of blogs from authors I idolize and I’m going to ask people to read mine because…why? What do I have to offer?

Seriously, what do I have to offer? I am an adjunct professor, and it doesn’t look like that is going to change. I have a novella published by a small press that might have sold 100 kindle copies at this point, and I barely have time to write as much as I want to. Maybe if I narrowed down to one project, and dove into it, I could finish it, but my passion for different projects keep shifting week to week. This is even after talking to my Saints publisher about an idea that they found interesting, but I kind of want to work on my next screenplay right now. Yeah. I need to prioritize. And you know what’s not on my mind? A blog. Writing a few posts a week sounds exhausting and I am really not sure what I would post about that often. Talk about Movies? Talk about Comics? Sure, I love those, but I did the reviewing thing and it’s sometimes tedious to write long reviews when I’d rather just sum them up in a paragraph or two (there’re not many reasons for reviews to be longer than 300 words unless it is a very special case).  So if not reviewing, what do I write about? Teaching? How do I do that without sounding too bitter about the state of Academia, or even risk my job talking about these issues? What about issues that matter to me but might turn off a potential employer or publisher (like the odd idea of equal rights. I know). What is there to write about that is.

So…yeah. Blogging. What am I supposed to do with it? I guess what I’m saying is, if I do manage to keep this up for any reasonable amount of time, the posts are probably going to be really random. But maybe I’ll actually be writing. Andmaybesomeofyouwillbuymybook.

Chrysanthe-Tan

Concrete

I did a little bit of free writing today, listening to a piece calle “Concrete” by the amazing Chrysanthe Tan, on her new album Stories. If you use music to write to, I highly recommend it. I listed to this on repeat for maybe 20 minutes and wrote just a short scene, maybe a concept scene for something larger one day.  But, why not share it since it’s been a while since I put some new stuff out?


Concrete

Her fingers lightly touch the metallic pole, already slick from the other girls dancing that night—no longer cold to the touch, but warm and tepid. She slid down the pole, bending her knees and spreading her legs, her long blonde hair draping to the floor. Then men watched her and cheered and threw dollar bills and she continued to dance, the pole getting warmer as she did. As she descended to the stage, slowly, seductively, the pole gave way from behind her, and she fell to the hard wood.

Men jumped up in alarm, but she waved them off—until she felt a warm thick liquid on her. She touched her head, feeling it in her hair, running down her face and bare shoulders and bare breasts. She looked at the crowd, looking at her in shock, and then to her hands. But it was not blood. A thick quicksilver, a metallic syrup, cloaked her. It dripped down her arms and onto the stage, where she now knelt in a puddle of liquid metal, the remains of the pole she danced on.

But she did not burn. Rather, the metal began to feel soothing as it collected over her nipples and seeped into her pores. The men gathered began to back away as she moved forward, slightly dizzy and bewildered. She leaned forward, reaching for the other pole on the stage for support. Her hand grasped it, but the metal quickly began to soften. She watched it fold and then ripple, and start seeping over and through her fingers like grabbing onto partially melted wax. She let go, seeing the imprint of her hand just before the pole collapsed under its melting weight.

The men screamed and ran out of the bar. She turned, looking to see if any would stay behind to help her—she saw only one man, kneeling on the ground. He had the look of a soldier. His hair cut close, his chest broad. Scars on his face betrayed any remaining sense of innocence. His hands went to his mouth in disbelief, gasping. She stood, shining silver and red in the low lighting.

“I found you,” he cried, smiling. “I finally found you.”


I already have some ideas of what I want to do with this–hope it was enjoyable.

The Rosemont Write-A-Thon

Yes…I went here for my MFA.

While I revise Sin’s Requiem, I should also mention a very important part to how I was able to even write this novel to begin with. I’m an adjunct professor. My life is hectic and I barely have time to myself. So, when Rosemont College, where I earned my MFA (and the grad program I would later teach Graphic Novel Studies for) announced a Write-a-Thon, I was game. The first write-a-thon, I wrote like 13,000 words. Yeah. I had a lot in me. I wasn’t even planning on writing Sin’s Requiem that day. I had nothing planned, just a loose idea and outline. I didn’t even know what the “sin” was at that point. I just put on my writing music, and before I knew it, 12 hours had passed and I was emotionally drained and someone handed me a tote bag of cool stuff. And then I had no time to write more. Luckily, 5 months later, Rosemont held a second Write-a-Thon, and I finished the first draft–another 12,000 words. So, if you are doing the math. I wrote the 25,000 (more, actually) in 2 days. And yes, I have a lot more to do and I am adding probably 5000 words in new chapters. I’m realizing that I have more to tell of Patrick and Aeneas. But I would have never gotten this far into the story if Rosemont didn’t host those Write-a-Thons. I can’t wait for another one.

And if you ever see one at your school or community, be sure to attend. Just being among other writers, everyone pouring their creative energies forth, is a magical experience. It’s like the outside world no longer exists and everyone in that library (where it was hosted) existed only on an Astral Plane of Creativity. It’s wonderful.

Oh, and you can back and preorder Sin’s Requiem here.

Plus, anyone who orders before September 30th will receive a free Kindle copy of my novel, Trading Saints for Sinners.

Two Years Gone

Pa in World War II

Pa in World War II

How do two years go by so quickly? On September 7th, 2013, Patrick Calvachio—Pa—passed away. And not too long after that, I started to write Sin’s Requiem. Everything in this novel only became possible after he died, looking at old pictures. Some of them became integral to the plot of the novel. A picture of him with a Belgium girl, with only “Georgette” written on the back. Another picture that if I described right now would spoil a major scene in Chapter 4—which I will post soon anyway. All the more reason I had to put his name on the cover. This is as much Pa’s story as it is mine. Maybe even more so. That’s why it is from Pa, not for. And why the ending was very difficult to figure out, but I think I have a great ending, one that Pa would love. It’s also why it leans more in favor of Catholicism and Christianity than I am generally inclined to do. The first attempt of this novel, it was science that caused the time travel phenomenon. And it didn’t work. I started writing it channeling Pa, and the time travel was caused by religious spirituality, and it worked. It worked so well, I kind of hated that I didn’t think of it sooner. And for 2 years, I have felt that he has been a co-writer on this journey. Even going into the revisions, I still feel him pushing me, saying “We need to revisit this. This doesn’t work. We need more of this.” And every inclination of what I feel both the character of Patrick Calvachio and the person of Patrick Calvachio would want makes the story stronger. Even things I never expected to write. In a chapter I will post soon on Inkshares, there is a very intimate (read: sex) scene between Patrick and Georgette…while the grandson, Aeneas, is occupying his body. It’s strange, the implications are weird, but the desired effects (especially with what happens right after said scene) I can’t see working better any other way. It’s one of the most honest scenes I have in the novel. It’s one of the most important. It’s one Aeneas needed to experience. Pa might not like the actual scene, but I know he would see the importance and need of it. And I know he’d actually be a little proud that I wrote it.

And so, today, I will take a break from working with Pa so that I can actually think of him for a bit. And tomorrow, the two of us will be back at it, making Sin’s Requiem the best and strangest time travel, World War II, mythology, meta-fiction novel we can.

And of course, you can preorder our book Sin’s Requiem.

A Tale of Two Sinners

I wrote my first novel, Trading Saints for Sinners, at a time when I was at my final crossover into atheism. The novel explores religious ideals and questions them, the way I was questioning them. And some readers have noted that there seems to be some hostility towards Christianity in the novel. They would be right—though, the characters also see the need for some of the actions committed by God, even if they don’t agree with them. Adding to this, yeah, Mephistopheles is a reinstated Angel, and he’s not the least moral character. So, sure, maybe it involved my misgivings about Christianity when I wrote it when I was 23.

So how is Sin’s Requiem similar or different? Well, it’s me, 7 years later, reexamining ideas of religion and atheist after learning much more about both ideas, and more about myself. As a result, the tone of this book is less “God is a dick” and more “Our beliefs are our beliefs, shaped only by ourselves.” Oh, and time travel. There are two characters, an atheist grandson and a catholic grandfather. I wanted them to have to collide—their two ideals to implode in on each other and both of them to wonder, after seeing the same things, if the other one was wrong, or if they were both wrong. What if spirituality and atheism could exist side-by-side? What would that look like? What would that make characters like God?

And the answer…well, that’s part of the process. Some readers might think I’m a god-hating heathen (I get e-mails. It’s fun). Some atheists might think I am betraying them. Some Christians might think I prove the need for God. Some atheists might say I prove the complexity of a non-god. Some might say I am completely full of shit and a terrible writer. And some—and this is generally how I feel—won’t care. It’s a story.

And that’s the bottom line. It’s a story. All the theological mumbo jumbo (best soup ever) is secondary. What I wanted to do in Trading Saints was tell a non-redemption story. A man who doesn’t want to be redeemed, who wants to hate himself, and bigger powers going “enough of this, you’re doing the redemption thing if you want to or not.” For Sin’s Requiem, I want to tell a story of a grandson experiencing the regrets of his grandfather and trying to help him…even at the cost of his own existence.

So why the religious aspects? Because they worked for the stories. Trading Saints is about a liar, and it turns out that Mephistopheles was once the destroyer of lies (I did a whole research paper on it). And I tried telling Sin’s Requiem as a sci-fi story. There is a terrible scene in an old draft where the grandfather uncovers a temporal something-or-other that Hitler was building and something explodes and he’s caught in it and—look, it was bad. It was overdone sci-fi clichés and I hated it. But Sin Eating…now, that seemed like a plausible reason for the grandson to have to go back. And therefore, religion became part of the story.

In fact, the two stories became so thematically similar I started calling them the Catholic Noir Double Feature, and I was even going to use Mephistopheles in Sin’s Requiem to tie them together. I ended up siding against that because of what I said before. It explores religion, but not in the same way. So it wouldn’t be right to use Mephistopheles in this setting. Who I do use is very important, and if my comic series Sons of God is ever produced, readers of these two novels will be greatly rewarded.

The Two Sinners, Caden Conrad and Patrick Calvachio might be in the same world and dealing with the same confusing aspects of Christianity. But they are completely different characters. Caden doesn’t want to be forgiven. Patrick doesn’t think he can be. And how they progress towards redemption is very different too.

I hope you will read to find out. You can pre-order Sin’s Requiem here!