Ever wanted to see visual approximations of the dragons from the Of Cinder and Bone series? Here’s your chance. Each dragon also has a little factual tidbit beside the illustrations. This list includes the named and seen dragons in Books 1-4, so beware of spoilers.
This is NOT for sale and no profit will be derived from this post. All artists that I was able to identify are credited in each illustration.
Have fun!
Update 7/26/22
It’s officially been three months since the release of my new novel, Of Claws and Inferno! I’m ripping the spoiler tag off and now it’s time to meet the new dragons featured in Book Five. Peruse at your peril.
We have just one month to go before the fourth novel in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Fury and Fangs, hits bookshelves! Here’s the final excerpt. As always, spoilers ahead.
–
Several pounding knocks on the door to her suite awoke Dr. Kamala Anjali from slumber.
The 5’4” scientist groaned into her pillow, but lurched from her bed and shuffled across the carpet to open the door. When she did, she was met with an attractive black man in his thirties. He had a goatee and wore a gun-metal grey Kevlar suit with a helmet tucked under one arm, and he was beaming down at her with excitement.
“We’ve got a live one, doc,” Bruce Calloway told her. “Get dressed.”
Kamala sighed. “Now? I only finished my last analysis four hours ago, Calloway. I’ve just barely gotten any sleep.”
“Oh, I know how to put the pep back in your step.” He leaned in slightly. “It’s a mimic dragon.”
Kamala’s honey-brown eyes widened. “What?”
“Yep. Someone called it in about fifteen minutes ago and dispatch sent word just now.”
“Have any of the hunters caught word of it yet?”
“No. We’re first on the case.”
“I’ll be ready in five,” she promised, and then shut the door. She scurried over to her closet and ripped off her boyfriend’s oversized MIT t-shirt and shimmied out of her shorts in favor of grabbing an armored suit nearly identical to the one Calloway wore. However, hers was much smaller and tailored to fit her curvy frame. She zipped it up and checked that the pouches on her utility belt were all snapped shut before slipping her phone into one, snatching up her helmet, and rushing out the door.
“Where?” she asked Calloway as they hurried down the hallway of the barracks towards the hangar.
“Farm on the city outskirts,” he said, punching in some coordinates in the digital interface built into the forearm of his suit. Kamala’s suit beeped and then she brought up the information he’d transmitted. “Guy went to go check on his herd when he heard an uproar and found the mimic dragon inside munching on a calf. Scared him half to death, so he called it in and holed himself up in the house with a shotgun just in case.”
“Good man,” she said. “I’m glad some of the civilians aren’t trying to go after them on their own. I can’t believe it’s a mimic dragon. They’ve never been seen in North America before.”
“Exactly,” Calloway said as he hit the button for the elevator. “Civvie said that he didn’t want to open fire and cause a stampede, and that after he calmed the cattle, he couldn’t find it again.”
“Incredible,” Kamala said. “Aren’t they the size of a large dog?”
“Or bigger, from what the history books say,” he agreed. “So the chameleon thing must be real. But it begs the question where those clowns even found the DNA to replicate it. Like the arctic dragons, mimics are incredibly rare with less than a hundred ever sighted in the wild before the worldwide extinction.”
“If we get one thing right in this endless mission, I hope we find out just how the Apophis Society is gaining access to those DNA samples,” Kamala growled, watching the numbers on the elevator click up to the launch pad level. “They are insanely well connected. We’ve been keeping tabs on nearly every source of dragon DNA on the planet and yet we’re always one step behind. Did you hear the rumor that some remains of an intact diablo dragon went mysteriously missing?”
“Yeah,” Calloway sighed. “Them’s the breaks. Especially when your evil global organization has access to pretty much all the money you’d ever need to fund your illegal cloning operation. I just pray they haven’t had a successful trial. The diablo dragon’s the second deadliest species on Earth and we’ve already got out work cut out for us.”
The elevators opened onto the roof of an enormous hangar. It was the wee hours, so there was only one helicopter on a designated pad with its console lit up. Spotlights bounced off its polished steel and illuminated the white emblem on the side that depicted a heater shield with the initials K.D. upon it.
Calloway and Kamala climbed inside to find the pilot waiting. He was tall, olive-skinned, and mid-thirties with a thick beard and a winsome smile he aimed at his teammates as they boarded.
Calloway gave him a grin and a fist-bump. “Yousef, my man. Who did they drag you out from under to come fly us out?”
The pilot laughed. “Shit, they offered me time-and-a-half so I told her I’d buy her breakfast when I got back.”
Calloway shook his head. “Incorrigible. Got your coordinates already?”
“Hell yeah. Let’s kick the tires and light the fires, kiddies.”
Calloway and Kamala strapped in while Yousef did the pre-flight check and made sure their gear had already been loaded as well, and then the helicopter took off into the night sky.
“When’s the last time you checked the feed for any hunters in the area?” Kamala asked over the roar of the helicopter rotors.
“About fifteen minutes ago,” Calloway said. “It’s quiet so far, but we both know that doesn’t mean shit since any pissant can give it a go these days.”
“Tell me about it. I will never understand why they endanger themselves for money and the pretense of fame.”
“That’s because you’re a grownup, doc,” Calloway snorted. “Most of these ‘hunters’ are kids. Either adrenaline junkies or rich little Youtubers trying to increase their follower count. Until we get the legislation in place, it’s a damned free-for-all.”
“As if our job isn’t hard enough. You’d think the death toll would dissuade them by now.”
Calloway shrugged a shoulder. “Get rich or die trying. Emphasis on the die part.”
Kamala shook her head. “Every morning, I pray that this world returns to some form of sanity before my daughter is old enough to have to participate in society.”
Calloway gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Who are you kidding, doc? The world was never sane to begin with.”
She gave him a regretful smile in return. “Touché.”
The ride wasn’t terribly long–just under fifteen minutes, and mid-April meant a cool night in the Midwest. They came up on a mid-sized farm with plenty of open acres, its grass and forests already green from the beginning of spring. Yousef found a flat stretch in the field to touch down and they climbed out. Calloway strapped a net launcher across his back and Kamala activated her dragon tracker as they approached the barn.
“Shit,” she muttered as she examined the interface. “The interference with the cattle is pretty bad. It’s throwing off the readings. Plus, they’re almost in a frenzy. We’ve got to get it out of there before they all go berserk.”
“Roger that,” Calloway said as he tugged his helmet on and slid the launcher around to his hands. “What are you thinking?”
“Strobe lights,” she said. “The noise of the cattle is too loud to try an audible distraction, but it’s probably dark in there and it’ll be attracted to light. I’ll be the bait. Just be ready.”
“Yes ma’am.” He offered his fist. She bumped it and then took a deep breath before continuing forward on her own.
The farmer had left the barn’s side door unlocked for them, so Kamala carefully pushed it open to reveal the large space with its dirt floors and iron bars where the cows were corralled daily to be kept at night. By now, she’d gotten used to the stench of the livestock; after all, the smell pervaded the air for miles and she’d gotten a whiff as soon as they left the helicopter.
The cows shifted and mooed in protest with nervous energy, their eyes glowing from the few spotlights in the ceiling. It was almost completely dark inside and the constant shifting of the frightened cattle made it difficult to concentrate, but she managed as she shut the door behind her.
The iron bars that held the animals were securely posted in the ground, but she knew if all the animals panicked at once, they could trample them or bend them out of shape. She walked forward slowly with a small, military-grade flashlight in one hand and her tranquilizer gun in the other. She had hoped the cattle had grouped together in one spot to avoid the predator, but they were scattered throughout the enclosure and seemed just as confused as she was of its whereabouts. The stench of gore and spilled guts reached her and she glanced to her right to see the corpse of the calf the dragon had already devoured. Most of its internal organs were gone, leaving a pool of blood and torn fur behind. She suppressed a shudder and slid into the pen to examine the area.
She checked the claw marks in the dirt and glanced up to see that one of the skylights had been shattered. The dragon had dropped down from above much like an eagle scooping up prey and had killed the calf on the spot. The cattle had run to the other side of the pen to avoid being mauled as well, and currently were bumping into each other to stay away from the fresh kill. She spotted a trail of blood leading away from the corpse and squinted at the cattle. A few of them had scratch marks on their pelts. The dragon had likely gotten spooked by them, or by the farmer when he entered the barn to check on the noise, and would have attacked in self-defense.
Kamala lifted her flashlight to the walls of the barn, going slowly, and checking it against the dragon tracker built into her suit. She didn’t see anything on the ceiling or on the walls. There was a chance it had left the barn again, but her gut told her otherwise. She continued towards the cattle and checked among them for anything unusual, but she didn’t spot the dragon trying to hide among their ranks. With a frustrated sigh, she turned to head back to the door.
Then, her tracker beeped.
There, not three feet from the shredded calf, lay what she had thought was a pile of hay and dirt. The heads-up display in her helmet switched to a different field of vision to reveal that it had been the mimic dragon in camouflage the entire time.
Kamala froze and swallowed hard. “Maa ki aankh.”
And just as she recognized it, the dragon opened one grey eye and stared directly at her.
“Calloway,” she whispered. “I’ve spotted it.”
“Atta girl,” he said over the comm-link. “Are you coming out of the side door or do you think it’s going to make a break for it out of the skylight?”
“Not sure,” she replied. “No scarring. Based on its lack of aggression, it may never have interacted with anyone since it was cloned. We know there are different sites out there, not just the ones planted by the yakuza and the Apophis Society. Did the farmer say it tried to attack him?”
“No. It gave him a warning, but he’s not hurt at all.”
“Then there is a good chance that it will simply be attracted to the light instead of attacking. I’ll try and get it to come out of the side door.”
“Ten-four, doc.”
Kamala muttered a quick protection prayer before she switched the flashlight from a constant beam to a strobe setting.
The mimic dragon opened both eyes, and its scales changed from the dark brown and light-yellow imitating the dirt and hay to a light green with mottled dark green patterns along its back and down its tail. It was roughly the size of a North American wolf, just as she’d suspected; big enough to be dangerous, but not impossible to catch if one had the know-how. The dragon unfurled from a ball and shook out its wings, staring intently at the flashing light. Calf blood dripped from its fangs and dribbled down its mandible as it walked towards Kamala, its nostrils flaring as it took in her scent.
Behind them, the cattle mooed loudly in fright, and the walls of the barn shook as they tried to pack themselves against the far side. Kamala eased out of the pen and took slow steps backwards. The dragon followed her as if hypnotized. “We’re coming out now, Calloway.”
She pushed the door open with her heel and walked through it backwards, her gaze never leaving the creature as it trailed after her. She needed just a few more feet to give Calloway a clear shot and then they’d be home-free.
Just then, a strange buzzing noise sounded overhead.
Frowning, Kamala glanced up to see a drone appear from over top of the barn. “What the hell?”
Before she could move an inch, the drone shot a blast of glow-in-the-dark ink at the mimic dragon. The reptile snarled and shook out its wings, then leapt into the air after it. The drone flitted away into the night sky like a bat out of hell.
“Shit!” Kamala snarled. “Someone else is out here.”
Calloway swore. “It’s probably leading the dragon to whoever owns that damn droid. Come on!”
They booked it through the field after the fleeing drone and the angry dragon, heading towards a line of trees near the border of the property. Kamala pulled a silver whistle from her utility belt and slid up the visor of her helmet, bringing it to her lips. She blew hard.
The mimic dragon swerved mid-flight and circled around, flying towards them instead with a roar of annoyance.
Calloway skidded to a halt and planted his feet, aiming.
“Down in three…two…one!”
He shot the net launcher. The diamond-wire net deployed, but the dragon spun nimbly out of its path and ploughed right into him at top speed. Calloway and the dragon tumbled backwards in the tall weeds in a heap. The dragon dragged the launcher from his grip and slung it several feet away from him. It turned to one side as Calloway sprang to his feet and cracked its tail at his midsection. Calloway brought up a forearm and blocked the blow before grabbing the dragon’s appendage and latching on. The creature wriggled and snapped its head around towards him, much like a captured gator, but he turned counterclockwise out of the path of its jaws.
Snarling, the reptile’s throat bulged and then it spat a fat glob of venom at his head.
“Shit!” Calloway ducked just in time and heard the weeds behind him sizzling as the acidic substance ate straight through them. “Aren’t you just a charmer?”
“Hang on!” Kamala called as she hurried over, but as she did, the drone zipped past her, missing her by mere inches. Bright flashes lit up the clearing as the drone’s camera snapped photos of the beast. The dragon thrashed angrily and lobbed a mouthful of venom at the drone instead, but it veered to one side and kept taking pictures.
The dragon snapped at Kamala’s heels as she scampered past it and dive-rolled in the tall grass. She snatched up the net launcher when she came up on one knee and shouted, “Calloway, down!”
The other dragon hunter released the dragon’s tail and jumped back just in time. A second net shot out and engulfed the dragon. It yelped and fell in a tangled bundle to the grass.
“It’s alright,” Kamala said soothingly, rolling it onto its belly. “Easy, easy, now.”
She retrieved her tranquilizer gun and measured the dosage carefully before injecting the dragon in a soft spot beneath its jaw. The creature’s wriggling slowed, and then stopped altogether. She checked its pulse and sighed in relief that it was stable.
Then she stood, reached for her flare gun, and shot the hovering drone right out of the sky.
It exploded in a shower of sparks and fell to the ground in a mass of broken metal and glass. She stalked over to it and dug out the camera attached, which still had a little red light indicating that it was recording.
“Whoever this is,” Kamala said, seething. “Do not ever try this again. You are not a dragon hunter. You are a reckless, ridiculous child seeking attention and you nearly endangered my life, my colleague’s life, and the life of this dragon. Cease this madness immediately or we will come after you with the full force of the Knight Division and the U.S. government.”
With that, she threw the camera to the ground and stomped it to cut the feed.
“Well,” Calloway said mildly. “That’s one way to make an impression.”
“I tire of these fools,” Kamala growled as she swept off her helmet and dusted the dirt away. “How many more innocents will die while they play these games?”
“I’m sure a few centuries ago, some folks just like us were asking the same questions,” he said solemnly as he signaled Yousef to fly over to them. “Ain’t nothin’ new under the sun, Kam.”
He nudged her shoulder with his own as he removed his helmet and gave her a reassuring smile. “But we’re still making a difference one dragon at a time.”
“We are, but will it ever be enough to change the tide?”
“Guess we’ll find out together. Good work, doc.”
She smiled back at him. “Good work, Calloway.”
Just then, her cell phone buzzed from inside one of the belt’s pouches. Confused, she withdrew it to find her boyfriend calling. Strange, she thought. It was nearly two a.m. in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
“Jack? Honey, what are you doing up so late?”
She heard him exhale shakily into the phone. “I know, baby. There’s…there’s been an accident at the house.”
Kamala’s blood turned to ice in her veins. “Oh God, Jack, are you okay? Is it Naila?”
“She’s fine. We’re both fine, but…I need you to come home. It’s a mess. Everything’s a fucking mess and I need you here.”
“I’ll be there as fast as I can. I swear it.”
“Thanks, angel,” he sighed. “Call me when you land.”
We’re just two months away from the launch of Book Four in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Fury and Fangs! Time for another excerpt!
Spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.
–
Jack ran a hand through his windswept hair. “Alright. I can set off Thornton’s car alarm. That should draw him and his buddy outside and you can slip in to see if you can film the dragons. Then we split.”
Kamala blew out a long breath to ready herself. “Be careful, my darling.”
He kissed her. “You too.”
Jack crept back the way he came along the wall and around the corner, waiting by the door. He heard the squeal of one of the metal doors to the container opening. “That’s my cue.”
He hunted along the shipping yard until he found a sizeable slab of rock and slipped to the other end of the warehouse. Then he hefted it and chucked it at the hood of Thornton’s Jeep.
The car alarm immediately let out a panicked squawk.
Roughly ten seconds later, Thornton and Joe spilled out of the warehouse, bewildered by the ruckus. Jack hustled around the rear of the building as the men hurried over to the vehicle. Thornton cursed up a storm as he surveyed the dented green hood and spun around, searching for the culprit.
While they were distracted, Kamala slipped inside the open door to the warehouse, staying low, and quickly crept towards the red shipping container with its massive door ajar. Its contents made her stop in her tracks.
There were four large iron cages inside, but two of them were empty. The other two housed a dragon each; the creatures bound in manacles with their jaws clamped shut in muzzles.
The first dragon was brown and so round and bulky that it could have been mistaken for a Grizzly bear. As a matter of fact, she knew that it had, for it was an urso dragon. Its lurching shape had often been mistaken for a bear from far away in the Alaskan woods and any hunter that shot it would find itself in a heap of trouble, for its scales were so thick that they could repel most common types of weaponry. The dragon could also reach a sprint speed of up to twenty-five miles an hour, at which point it could generate enough energy to flip an SUV with ease. Its wings had been clamped with round bands of metal as well. Its yellow eyes flicked open as it heard her approach and it snorted once before settling into its enclosure again, apparently not feeling threatened by her small stature.
It had two dark brown horns on the crown of its head, but one had been snapped in half, which it would regrow. She didn’t see any marks on its scales, but it made sense. It would be quite a contender in the ring of a dragon fight. She did, however, see smudges of ash along its right side and its legs, so she suspected it was still susceptible to fire.
The second dragon had iridescent scales that refracted the bits of sunlight from the warehouse windows. Its scales glittered as if made of quartz and stuck up in random, sharp spikes from head to toe. Two pinpricks of black looked up at her as she stared at it in wonder. She couldn’t help herself. It was her first time seeing a crystal dragon in the flesh. They were rare cave dwelling creatures famous for hoarding gemstones in diamond mines and other underground caverns. Many adventurers of yore would seek them out, but never return, for crystal dragons were among the most violently territorial of their species. Their scales were as rock hard as their namesake, which was why they were one of the first dragons to go extinct; people would obsessively hunt them for their beautiful hides.
Like the urso dragon, she didn’t see any outward injuries. It was clear the dragon fighting rings had gotten more thoughtful with which species they accepted for fights. It was likely both of them had survived quite a few matches with their unique characteristics.
She made sure to record clear footage of both dragons and snapped a few photos as well before she snuck out of the warehouse’s rear door, where she met Jack. Thornton and Joe had aggressively started to search the grounds, so the two hustled out of the yard back to the Volkswagen.
“What did you find?” Jack asked as he snapped on his seatbelt.
“An urso dragon and a crystal dragon.”
“Holy shit,” Jack gaped. “Seriously?”
She handed him her phone and Jack watched the video clips, whistling. “Incredible. And I thought the Knight Division had been able to crack down on the DNA sources lately.”
“Obviously, some of them have slipped through the cracks. If we’re able to get this back to the precinct in time to seize the dragons, I’m sure they’ll produce plenty of relevant data that we need.”
“Definitely,” Jack said as he started up the Beetle. “I’d love to take a look at—”
He abruptly stared past her head through the passenger window and paled. “Oh, shit.”
A second later, the urso dragon that had been sprinting towards them with its head lowered smashed into the side of the Beetle.
The impact threw the car up on two wheels and smashed its roof into the wall of the electrical shed. Glass exploded on Jack’s side of the car and there was a horrible crunching sound of metal and stone and dragon hide. The engine immediately sputtered out and died as the car lurched back onto all four wheels. The side air bags had deployed upon impact, stunning both Jack and Kamala. Ears ringing, Jack peered through the shattered window to spot the attacking dragon, but it wasn’t there any longer. He heard a snort and a throaty bellow and twisted in his seat to see the dragon behind the car, its head lowered as it prepared to ram them again.
“Shit!” Jack tried the engine once, twice. It coughed and protested, but wouldn’t turn over. He cursed again and tried to unhook his seatbelt, but the impact had jammed it. He grabbed Kamala’s shoulder and shook her hard, rousing her from her dazed state. “Hang on!”
WHAM!
The urso dragon barreled into the back of the Beetle and sent them skidding several feet across the gravel. Jack grabbed the steering wheel and tried to twist the tires to keep them from sliding towards the hill into the warehouse yard, but gravity got the better of them. Kamala tried to free herself from the seatbelt as well, but hers was also jammed. Briefly, they spotted Thornton and Joe near the fence, sneering in triumph.
“Why aren’t they shooting at us?” Kamala asked as she tried to wriggle herself free from the seatbelt.
“No need,” Jack gasped out as he did the same. He watched in the askew rearview mirror as the urso dragon prepared for one more lunge. “The dragon’s gonna push us into the river.”
“Sulemaga!” Kamala spat.
Jack yanked on the seat lever and wriggled his arm towards his pants. “I’m trying to reach my pocketknife. I’ll cut us loose. Then we’ll have maybe a minute or two to climb out before the car sinks too deep and we drown.”
The dragon charged them again. “Head down!” Jack yelled, covering his own just before the creature slammed into the vehicle one last time. The car tumbled down the gravel hill and rolled off the side of the embankment into the Charles River.
The most that I can say is at least we’re still here. I know that these annual posts recap 2019 through the current date, but woof. It’s hard to for me not to talk about the first half of 2020 while discussing the time between now and my sixth year post. And hell, we thought 2019 sucked. We had no idea, did we?
Sadly, thanks to the pandemic, I don’t have a cute pic of me hugging any celebrities. 2019, as mentioned above, was an unkind year to me, same as most people. I did manage to catch up with Charlie Cox and get my Playbill to Harold Pinter’s Betrayal on Broadway signed, but Mr. Hiddleston stood me up this time around and that is a summary of 2019 and 2020 in a nutshell: me, standing outside in the freezing cold, staring at a door that won’t open, my dreams held within it. Melodramatic, but true.
Well, you’re not here for my open wounds, you’re here for what semblance of advice that I can give you, so let’s get to it, shall we? Here’s what I’ve learned in my seventh year of being published.
Expect the unexpected. I know it’s impossible, but there is a lesson to be learned here for 2020 throwing everything at us but the kitchen sink. You can’t prepare for everything, but you can learn how to adapt to an unprecedented situation. No one thought we’d end up where we are now, but in spite of that, those of us who have survived are still here and doing our best to stay afloat. No one ever wants to find out what they’re made of in a worldwide plague scenario, but it’s here and so we’ve all had to tighten our belts, toughen up, and support each other as best as we can.
This sentiment is to remind yourself to appreciate what’s in front of you, for you have no idea what’s coming. All you can do is try to build a foundation that will remain standing when the world winds up a brick and hurls it at you. You have to keep an open mind and be ready for change. Sometimes it’s voluntary change and other times it isn’t. Identify the best way to proceed and set a new course. It’s alright to mourn the things you lost along the way, but nothing kills you faster than refusing to let go. Trust me, I know that from personal experience.
Try to work by your own standards. This past year, someone started a hashtag on Twitter that was about how much published authors make and it was extremely eye-opening for many people, both those in the industry and those outside of it. Truth be told, the publishing world does not like to accurately portray itself to the rest of the world. That hashtag revealed that a lot of us are just tiny fish in the pond, desperately searching for breadcrumbs. There are far more of us who grind out books and cannot support ourselves on writing full time than the reverse, but that’s not what the publishing world wants you to think. They want the world to see us as Stephen King’s, thinking we make money hand over fist.
It’s tough to find the motivation to spend hours writing if your sales suck. That’s the hard truth of the matter. Many of us are busting our asses to make good fiction and still see little to no results. The other truth of the matter is that we’re holding ourselves to an unfair standard. We see these big names raking in the dough and try to match their sales when it’s not realistic. Sure, it would be wonderful if everyone sold millions of copies and secured movie deals with creative control, but it’s not going to happen for a majority of the writing world, both traditional and independent/self-published. That’s the cold, hard facts.
So now what do we do?
Find your spot and plant your feet.
It’s okay if you’re not making thousands of dollars a month off of your fiction. It’s wonderful if you are, but the numbers say that most of us aren’t that fortunate. Instead, focus on what you ARE able to accomplish instead. Break your goals down into something more achievable and take it a day at a time. Often what prevents us from writing or being productive is that impossible standard hovering over our heads and you have to kick it to the curb. Find goals that satisfy you and do your best to meet them as often as possible. At the end of the day, your opinion of yourself and your work is the most important, not that of everyone else’s. They aren’t in your situation, so it’s fruitless to wring your hands trying to emulate them.
Change is scary, but sometimes unavoidable. Some of you may already know, but I originally finished the first draft of my upcoming fourth novel in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Fury and Fangs, in early 2020.
And I hated it.
Really. I’ve never hated anything I’ve written before. It was a strange feeling for me to pick it up and slam it back down, sure that it was the worst trash to disgrace the face of the Earth.
I took some time off. I worked on my mental health and managed to get a handle on the fear and anxiety, and then consulted my writing sensei with my problem. He was thankfully able to help me reaffirm what was wrong with the book and helped me develop a strategy to fix it.
And again, that had never happened to me before.
Sure, I’ve hit walls. I’ve had long periods of not writing. But I’ve never written what I felt was a bad story, or rather, written a good story incorrectly. This time, oh yeah, I totally did. I think that the stress of the 2019 to 2020 period had gotten to me and so I was pushing myself to write when I didn’t quite have everything together. I was pushing the wrong angle, so I had to regroup and understand what was needed to fix it. At the time of this post, the revisions for the second draft are roughly half done and the book’s pre-order is live, so I’ll have everything ready by the release date.
Still, this was one of the first times I had to admit my own failure and take things back to the drawing board. It’s also a byproduct of this series being so different from The Black Parade series, which for the most part was planned from A to Z. I knew the plots, but all the things in between were genuine surprises. Of Cinder and Bone was much more off the cuff for me. The stories generate themselves out of thin air rather than being so carefully planned. It may be why I was off the mark in the original draft, but thankfully, I wasn’t so off that I had to destroy most of the book; just retool it and save some of the content for later.
What did end up taking me so long was my own stubborn refusal to admit the first draft sucked. Or, rather, to be brave enough to find a way to fix it. I definitely wanted to give up on the book at a few points, but slowly, I regained my confidence and went after it.
Naturally, most experienced writers know this is totally possible and prepare for it, but to any newbies out there, this is a terrifying feeling. It’s okay. Sometimes you just have to get it on the damn pages and then worry about fixing it later, when you have at least a teaspoon of your sanity back.
Reflect carefully and as often as possible. It’s no surprise that with the pandemic, unemployment is as high as it was during the Great Depression and everyone’s miserable, scared, and broke for the most part. As a result, pretty much across the board, everyone’s struggling to make money. My June sales were sadder than Requiem for a Dream. Well, unfortunately, writing is the same as most businesses: you have to spend money to make money. I’ve had to get awful creative in my attempts to promote Of Fury and Fangs without breaking the bank. Keep in mind, just blitzing social media with links and photos doesn’t work. Don’t believe anyone who says it does. You have to do better than that, as the average person’s ability to simply filter out advertisements on the Internet is very developed by now.
While doing so, I happened past some of my older methods of marketing and promoting, using free or low cost options like digging to find sites that let you post for free or writing guest blog posts. While time consuming, it is helpful for the overall SEO for the book in its early stages to spread the word. It’s not all about mailing lists and expensive site postings. There is value in doing the small stuff that can add up over time to get your work out there to people.
Is it a pain in the ass to produce more content like author interviews or guest blog posts? Totally. But it’s just as valid as the other methods as long as it’s allowing your further saturation. It doesn’t matter how you get yourself into a reader’s vision, just that you get there and reach them in a meaningful way.
Be good to yourself and to others as much as you can. This should be a no-brainer, but it ain’t. Especially not for me. I am my own worst enemy. Always have been, always will be. However, therapy has helped me recognize the impulses that I have to treat myself poorly and while I’m still doing it, the awareness means that I have a chance to do better.
The pandemic has made a lot of us realize that many of the things we used to do to decompress or find happiness are no longer possible. That means doing a bit of soul-searching and finding alternative ways to be at peace, or if you’re lucky, happy. It’s unfair and extremely difficult, but it’s worth doing for overall mental health. To that end, many authors have been stressed out thinking that they should be writing some magnum opus during quarantine. That’s simply not true. It’s okay to just get by. You don’t have to become some award winning author and write the next great novel. The most important thing is to keep your head above water, which does not happen if you’re constantly yelling at yourself for not writing. 2020 is ungodly stressful. If you find a way to weather the storm, go with that. It’s great if you can also help others. Give yourself a break.
After all, 2020 sure ain’t gonna do it for you.
Well, that’s all the time I have this time around. Sisyphus has got to get back to pushing her boulder up the mountain. I hope I’ll see you guys back this time next year. For God’s sake, be smart, be careful, and be diligent. Here’s to seven years.
Great news! The pre-order for the fourth novel in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Fury and Fangs, is available! In celebration, here’s an exclusive preview for chapter one! Spoilers ahead!
After surviving a vicious attack from a dragon in his own home, Jack and Dr. Kamala Anjali investigate who sent the dragon to kill him. Unfortunately, their list of enemies is long. Plenty of people have an axe to grind with the two scientists responsible for the rebirth of the previously extinct dragons that are now flourishing on every continent of the planet. Jack and Kamala rejoin with their team at the Knight Division to hunt down the culprit and put an end to their revenge scheme once and for all.
But will it cost them everything?
Of Fury and Fangs is the fourth novel in the Amazon and USA Today bestselling Of Cinder and Bone series, following Of Cinder and Bone, Of Blood and Ashes, and Of Dawn and Embers.
You’ve been patient and the time has finally come. Here’s the next book in the Of Cinder and Bone series.
Cover Art by BRose Designz
Someone wants Dr. Rhett “Jack” Jackson dead.
After surviving a vicious attack from a dragon in his own home, Jack and Dr. Kamala Anjali investigate who sent the dragon to kill him. Unfortunately, their list of enemies is long. Plenty of people have an axe to grind with the two scientists responsible for the rebirth of the previously extinct dragons that are now flourishing on every continent of the planet. Jack and Kamala rejoin with their team at the Knight Division to hunt down the culprit and put an end to their revenge scheme once and for all.
But will it cost them everything?
Of Fury and Fangs is the fourth novel in the Amazon and USA Today bestselling Of Cinder and Bone series, following Of Cinder and Bone, Of Blood and Ashes, and Of Dawn and Embers.
Of Fury and Fangs hits bookshelves October 24th, 2020. Add it to your Goodreads shelf here and make sure you’ve already liked my Facebook page to stay updated for when I post excerpts. The pre-order will be available within the next couple months, so stay tuned and be sure to spread the word!
It’s that time of year again! As I near completion on the fourth novel in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Fury and Fangs, I thought I’d drop that first line on you while you wait.
“It was one AM when all hell broke loose.”
I hope that whets your appetites. Stay tuned for more news, including cover reveal, synopsis, excerpts, and release date! The fastest way to stay in touch is Facebook and Twitter, so make sure you’re following both and see you soon.
Sincerely,
Kyoko M.
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