To celebrate and honor reaching 500 followers on Twitter, I promised to post an excerpt of my current WIP: Draugr. First, a little backgroud: Leif Halfdan spends his immortality working as a historical consultant and detective on the police force. One morning, he is called to consult with an Archaeological operation in the Highlands of Scotland. A necklace with his name carved on it has been found in an 800-year old grave. He agrees to go, much to the aggravation…
Though you may travel far and wide,
No haven of life is found inside.
Viking hoard be cold as stone
Hot be heart and breath and bone…
I am such a perfectionist, and such a do-er (my sisters would call me an overachiever) that I forget to let myself and my work just be. I convince myself I am not doing enough, or I am not doing well enough. The merry-go-round in my brain just can’t let it rest. I’m either a terrible writer or I’m not giving my best. That kind of self-condemnation is destructive. And paralyzing.
Near the end of 2011, I sat down and sketched out my first rough idea for an urban fantasy novel. And as I enthusiastically brainstormed and developed ideas, a bitter voice in my head told me to stop, to give up, to throw the towel in and relinquish the dream of being a writer. “Better to give up than be known as a bad writer,” it told me.