New blogspace

I was toying with the idea for a while, but I decided to go through with it a while back. I'm bad about updating either way, I know, but I'm trying!

Short and final update here. I've since moved over to http://authorjmpreiss.tumblr.com/ in hopes to get some more traffic. Nothing against the people here, but the functionality of tumblr and the amount of traffic it gets is too big to pass up.

Bit of an update

Just going to toss a quick update up to let everybody know what's going on.

Work on ER is coming along quite smoothly. I've really been able to get in the groove now that everything is coming to a close on this semester. I wish I had been able to find this groove earlier, but it is what it is.

Anyways, as I said, work is moving along nicely. Interestingly enough, it's moving along because I have switched from writing solely on the computer to writing in a notebook first. All of the first draft is getting put down on paper before it is getting put into the file for the book. Hopefully, this will greatly improve my ability to edit things.

I've also gone through and picked up a number of editing errors I had in Time Jump. I know, I know, I should've done that a long time ago, but what can I say. I've got more than my share of character flaws, and I'm horrible at time management. I'm going to do my best to get everything updated and fixed by the end of this week, so to my understanding, if you remove it from your kindle and re-download it from your library, you should get the updated file. I'll do some more research into that though to make sure first for y'all.

Been getting some more reviews as well lately, and it seems that people do enjoy reading Time Jump. The editing errors that I have let linger takes away from their experience, however. If y'all are reading this, I am sincerely sorry for that. You rightfully expect a higher quality product from me, and my expectations for what I do should be in excess of what y'all place on me. Please bear with me, and I'll deliver a book you find worthy of your time. This is why I have altered my production style for Eugenic Reprisal.

Like I said, I am thinking that doing it the way I am will let me get things a lot tighter before it even makes it onto a computer.

I guess I'll leave with the final tidbit that the way things are being relined out based on reader feedback (I do listen to y'all), Halcyon might get condensed down to two a duology. We'll have to see how things are falling into place at the end of ER, but so far, it seems like pushing it to a third book would be stretching things thin. Just have to see how things develop was I go.

Oh yeah, I just remembered something that y'all will probably love. In the process of writing ER, playing more games than I should, and spending time with my wonderful girlfriend (you have no idea how much she has helped me these past two years), I've had two more ideas for universes to write in come to mind that I have written down, so I hope to get started on those as well once I get Eugenic Reprisal finished and into the editing process.

Patience breeds awesome: New Chapter 1 for Eugenic Reprisal

Since y'all have been awesomely patient with me. Here is chapter 1 now that I have it typed up.

Sensory deprivation. Being trapped in an infinite well of darkness and silence. It is the worst feeling in the world, but even that is a fabrication of the mind and not actually a feeling.

Jacob’s consciousness floated in that darkness. He was completely alone, and he had no contact with the outside world. Time was a novel concept that held no meaning in the darkness.

Jacob had gone through this before. When he joined the Reactionary Force and been chosen for more, “they” had done things to him. He was thrust back into the first room he had entered. The water was cold, and the darkness was total. He felt panic grip his heart as he frantically searched for an exit, but all he found was unyielding metal. His panic intensified as he took his last gulp of air before the room filled up completely. His last thoughts were of Lisa. The darkness claimed him as his air finally escaped lungs.

Jacob was back in the room. He was still sitting in the chair, sweat beading along his brow. His breathing was labored, but he was breathing. Relief washed over him, but he was confused. He stared at his reflection, and it stared back at him. There was a click.

“You felt fear,” a gravelly voice stated. “You felt concern. You felt panic. You felt despair.”

“Now, you feel confused,” the voice mused. “These are basic emotions, primal emotions. They are useless.” The voice growled.

“Emotions are weakness. Survival requires action. Action requires thought. Thought requires clarity. To achieve clarity, you must cast off your weakness.”

“I don’t understand,” Jacob said quizzically.

“Understanding is not required at this juncture. You will be made to understand, but that will happen later if you are deemed able.”

Jacob felt his resolve harden. He set his jaw, sat up straight, and squared his shoulders.

“I am able,” Jacob said. “I will not fail.”

“Your pride is a weakness, and you will fail,” the voice said absently. “You have no choice in the matter. We will break you, shatter your spirit. Your resolve will falter and crumble. If we deem you able after all of this, we will rebuild you, make you stronger. By the time we are finished, you will have no equal in the normal world.”

Jacob stared at the glass and narrowed his eyes.

“If I fail?” he asked.

“Failure?” the voice responded. “You do not understand this basic point: failure is not available to you. You either survive, or you die.”

Jacob opened his mouth, but the voice spoke before he could.

“Enough words. You passed the first test. Now, we begin the real program.”

Jacob was plunged into darkness, and he lost consciousness.

His memory faded, and he arrived back at his mind in the black nothing. Other memories were bright flashes in the darkness, but each one was fleeting. Images of his parents, his home in London, Heathrow on a busy morning, Lisa’s carefree smile; nothing stayed long enough to study in any detail.

Jacob couldn’t remember why he was in the darkness. Just out of reach, the answer eluded him, but he knew it was important.

How could he forget? It was extremely important that he remember.

What was his purpose?

“Your purpose,” the gravelly voice from before started, “is to do your job.”

“I don’t understand,” Jacob heard himself say.

“Understanding is not required,” the voice explained. “In fact, the less you think about understanding it, the better you will be able to complete your mission.”

Jacob frowned. Wasn’t it important to think and understand?

“Quite the opposite,” the voice responded. “If you concern yourself with understanding, you will miss important details.”

“Doesn’t that imply understanding?” Jacob asked quizzically.

“Understanding is a hindrance. You understand how a fabricator works, and it is working properly. Is there something wrong with it?”

“You just said that it was working properly. Nothing is wrong with it.”

“Wrong,” the voice stated dryly. “Because of your complacency that is bred by your so-called understanding, you have failed to notice a small fluctuation in power. A terrorist cell is now armed and in control of the reactor.”

“But that is so unlikely as to never happen,” Jacob said.

“And that is why you would fail.” The voice shot back. “Question everything. Take nothing at face value. Never make assumptions. You no longer have the luxury.”

Jacob sighed.

“How will I know if I have the complete picture?”

“When the remaining questions are irrelevant,” the voice responded.

The conversation continued, but the voices quickly faded into nothing.

Once more, Jacob floated alone in the darkness, the only being in existence.

His thoughts turned to what he needed to know. He was with someone else, a friend. They were more than friends. No, theirs was something words could barely describe. Brotherhood.

“Lieutenant,” a voice said from behind Jacob.

Jacob spun around and snapped a salute.

“Captain.”

“At ease,” the man said. “I’m retired, LT. No need for the ceremony.”

“If it’s all the same, sir, you’ve earned the ceremony more than most.”

“Is that so?” the man asked as he crossed his arms.

“Yes, sir. You served with honor and distinction throughout your career in the RF. You quickly rose to the rank of Captain where you remained, by choice, until you suffered severe injuries in the line of duty and were given the option to muster out with full benefits due the rank of Colonel, but you refused the promotion to remain at the rank of Captain. Nobody living has given more,” Jacob finished.

The man scratched at the stubble on his chin absent-mindedly with his left hand. He dropped it back to his side.

“I supposed you’re right, LT.”

“Please, sir, you can simply call me Jacob.”

“In that case, Jacob,” the man said as he stretched his left hand and reached out with his right, “call me Mason.”

Progress, setting one foot in front of the other, and a random thought

I don't know why, but lately I have been writing in a journal that I had. I've been jotting down notes and ideas, and who knows what else has made it into there. There is just something liberating about actually writing on paper with a pen. I don't mean writing something that you are forced to write, but rather, writing something that just works its way out of you.

By no means am I anywhere near successful, so here is the salt shaker for what all I am about to say. It's full, so you don't need to worry about running out.

Maybe I have a knack for writing, and it is such an innate ability that it is difficult for me to see the problems that other people have. I'm not saying that I have a mastery of the English language, far from it, but I'm able to put pen to paper with ease that others tend to find envious. What is it about writing that is so difficult for everyone else?

I am right there with you when it comes to writing papers or reports for work or school. I don't much care for that writing because it has no life to it. It doesn't tell a story. Facts are all that they are about. What about writing for fun? There are so many ideas floating around in my head, and I cannot begin to express them all in a single sitting. For some reason, I find myself not wanting to believe that I am special.

That could be taken the wrong way, and friends of mine that have seen me through the dark days of my depression will probably catch their breath in concern for a moment. I'm not saying that I hold no value for myself. I like to think that I'm pretty amazing. No, what I'm saying is that how am I special compared to everyone else? I'm special to my loved ones - my family, my friends, and Linds especially, but how am I special to everybody else?

I have these thoughts come to me, and I can find myself waxing philosophical about everything that is just floating around between my ears.

I guess the thing to take from all of this is that we are all special to somebody, and we can see that if we just take the time.We're also special to everybody, but we need to accept that they aren't always going to see that.

Here am I, I started talking about my thoughts on being able to write, and now I'm talking about being special. It's a major train wreck in my head right now, and ideas are fighting to get out. Perhaps if I keep typing, we'll start seeing random numbers and letters that are the answer to all of our questions.......

Ok, yeah, I've got nothing.

For everybody out there that loved Time Jump, and for those that didn't, I'm going to get a new teaser up for Eugenic Reprisal sometime this week. I need to start transferring from my journal to the word document, but one foot is constantly being placed in front of the other. I'll keep y'all posted.

Happiness

There is so much that could be said about what makes a person happy. My family, my friends, getting to do what I want, seeing my beautiful girlfriend every morning when I wake up; all of this makes me happy, but that is not what I am writing this about.

I wish I had a better way to get in touch with everybody that has read and enjoyed Time Jump. Hell, I'd love to talk with those that didn't enjoy it to improve Eugenic Reprisal. What makes me happy in this instance? Those of y'all that are saying how much you enjoyed reading what I wrote. Waking up to a review for Time Jump by somebody anxiously awaiting Eugenic Reprisal gives me a big smile.

So I am quite aware that y'all are very interested in the status of Eugenic Reprisal.  Where is it currently? I ask myself the same thing, and I kick myself daily for when I don't have more finished on it. Part of the time that is taking to get it released is that I decided to go back to the drawing board on it. I just wasn't happy with how the story was progressing, so I started writing it again. I took key points from what I had, and I am using those as a foundation to create a better story, a story that y'all deserve.

When I was in the depths of my depression last year despite my medication, I finished and released Time Jump. Thanks to my wonderful girlfriend and an excellent psychiatrist, I am on top of the world, better than I have been in probably a decade if not more. I am able to enjoy the things in life without being dragged down by depression. So what is happiness? It's seeing the people that care for you help you to be better than you are, and it is seeing the enjoyment that you bring to others through what you do.

So I ask this of y'all, reach out to me here or on Amazon by leaving a review of Time Jump there. I love to see what y'all have to say about it, and even though I don't reply to those reviews, I take it all to heart and use it to make Eugenic Reprisal that much better.

I can't say this enough to those that have read my work: Thank you for deeming my story worthy of your time.