A familiar fox arrives, the rose behind its left ear bobbing as it bows its head to you, then takes a missive from the bag at its side.

You take the letter, and begin to read...

In personal news...

I may have to start calling this section "medical updates". A delightful ongoing saga...

So my nasal spray induced nosebleeds of some size. Not at all my usual issuance. So I went to see an ENT (hence why this letter's late)...

And, long story short, I got my nose cauterized. I was told it was basically minor surgery, and signed a release to that effect. What then happened was I had a large match stuffed up my nose to the tune of 800 dollars or so.

(Note: this is for comedic effect. What in actuality happened was that there's an eight-inch-long match-like object with silver nitrate on the end, instead of fire, stuffed up my nose. Yes, they did numb me for the experience but it still was very unnerving.)

I'm also working on a piece to submit by the end of the month.

What I’ve Been Reading:

FINALLY finishing books! What a joy and delight! I feel as though something's finally clicked in my brain and I can read again.

​The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Riddle of Ages, by Trenton Lee Stewart, was an excellent ending to the series; it showed how each person grew more into their own... and perhaps a glimmer of redemption for Ledroptha, though I can't guarantee it.
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​Above the Circle of Earth, by E. Stephen Burnett, was an excellent win from Realm Makers Writer's conference. The author's love for the Lord, and his wife (who I met at that same conference, and the MC's wife bears a striking resemblance to...) is a wonderful piece of the narrative... a science-fiction dystopia, with persecution of Christians being an underlying narrative. The overall plot follows a man who believes he's called to ministry. But whether he is successful or not, is something you'll have to see in the story.

​Perchance to Dream: a Fairytale Anthology from Ye Olde Dragon Publishing, is an excellent book filled to the brim with creative and interesting twists on the tale of Sleeping Beauty.

​Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling was my sister's request, and we had a good time reading it.

​The Edge of a Knife and Other Stories by Beka Gremikova was an AWESOME collection that I had the privilege of receiving an ARC of. It's a bundle of stories all about monsters... or what might be called a monster, in the right circumstances. I loved it, and I very much recommend it. For a more specific review on each story, follow the link HERE to Goodreads.

Some Funny Stuff:

Snippets/Stories to Share:

This space was occupied, for some time, by a series of stories based on Havok's themes of the month. Last year, they had a Multiversal theme, which meant that the only thing in common amongst all the stories was a single character. They didn't have to be a major character in the story or anything... they just had to be there.

This year at Havok, the annual theme is Encore! Each month, they'll review one past season and accept new submissions for those old stories. Season Two, Stories that Sing, was one I really wanted to participate in... but found out about far too late. So, I've taken the liberty of summing it up for you: Stories that Sing was all stories based on songs. So I'll probably be doing stories like that All. Year. Long. The title of the song is clickable to the song the story's based on. I don't listen to songs with language in them, that I know of, and I'll search for clean versions if for some reason I've never understood the lyrics and have been by accident.

I'm sorry in advance, but not that sorry. If you have suggestions for songs, email me back and you might get to see one you love!

And now, for your perusal... "It's a Sin," set in the Charming Kingdom series... an origin story.

The colorful, leaded windows do little to keep the thunder and lightning out of the chapel, though at least the sheets of rain are kept at bay.

Even this safe haven couldn’t keep my troubles quiet today. I rub at my neck, where the elaborate “C” branded there marks me as the only daughter of the Charming family— the royals that are less charming than their name suggests.

Our Gifting is to be used, my family always insists. We keep order where others would have madness, for everyone’s good.

Used is an understatement. I wonder just how much of the world they’ve built up is fake: Charm, the Gift we took a name after, is a powerful, rare Gift that allows us to change the minds and actions of those around us.

I’ve rarely used it. And I hated what came of it each time.

“What am I supposed to do?” I ask aloud, as if the altar would somehow bestow an answer on me, and put my face in my hands.

“You’re supposed to honor your father. Take up the name, and the Gift that comes with it; and use it proudly. You’re a Charming.”

I flinch, sitting up straight again quickly as my etiquette teachers dictate, and turn to the source of the voice.

My mother, wan as always, comes down the aisle and sits beside me. “Janette, your father does care about you, you know. That’s why he wants you to be proud of who you are.”

“I don’t want to be a Charming.” A whine threatens to come into my voice, and I struggle to keep it even. “If our Gift is so good, why does it make people ill if we use it too much?”

An irony. My mother, of course, isn’t a Charming by birth. The reason she’s so ill is because of my father’s frequent exertion of Charm on her. I don’t even know if my own mother loves me, or my father. She might’ve once, but now… I wonder if she even has enough mind left to choose for herself.

“I love you, too,” she says, putting a thin hand over mine. “And I want you to be happy. You’ve been born into a good life. Take advantage of it.”

Hot tears splash over my cheeks and I look down, unwilling to move her hand. She so rarely shows me even this much affection. I hate my father and his influence. How much longer will she last?

Of course, if you tell one under the sway of Charm the truth, they often fight back, reinforcing the Charm… or they go mad with the contradictions in their own mind. Charm, however, might be overlaid with another Charm, one that opens their eyes.

I look up at her at last, considering it once more. The problem with it being that my Charm, long-unused, might not be enough to contradict years of Father’s. Even if it somehow were, I fear that would kill her. No, it would be no solution. I bite my tongue, more tears welling up as I let out a shaky half-sob. “Mama, Charm isn’t a gift. It’s a burden.” Each use of it, a sin that clings to your soul… dragging you down. And even now, I was half-considering using it on one of the ones I love most. How corrupt it makes you! I wish I’d never been born.

Something in her eyes shifts. “Never underestimate the love of a mother, dear. Love covers a multitude of sins.” I let her lean in and kiss my forehead, and she pulls her hand away long enough to cover her mouth and cough, to return her hand to mine… wet.

I look down, and she turns her hand over slowly, and as one, gasp softly at the blood there.

“I’m sorry,” she says, pulling out her handkerchief and wiping my hand first, then hers.

My stomach twists, and I rise. “I’ll get Benton.”

She gives me a tight-lipped smile. “I’m sure that I’ll be—”

The blood drains from her face of a sudden, and she slides down the pew, eyes glazing as she begins to tremble.

“Mama!” I drop down beside her again, holding her upright.

She gives me a startled look as if seeing me for the first time, and lets out a raspy whisper, one that gives me a terror I have never before known. “Run, Jane. Don’t look back. Run now.”

“But—”

“Now.” Her fingers grip me tightly, nails digging into my flesh almost enough to draw blood. “He won’t be busy long. Run.”

Something in me snaps. A fierce rage I’ve always tried to contain, ever since I first saw my father Charm my mother. I’d started ‘acting out’, and he’d threatened me then.

“One more foot out of line, and you’ll be responsible for all manner of hurt. I’ll see to it.”

The brand was my punishment, then; but who will suffer now, for my sins?

But my mother lies dying before me, urging me to leave.

“I swear, Mama.”

Only then does she let me go, and I hurry from the room, pause, then dash back to the chapel. There is a hidden passage behind the altar, one that leads to the stables. I pause only long enough to kiss my mother’s cool cheek, and run.

I do not look back. As the rain pours down, I take Glissando, my gelding, and ride away into the night, uncaring of where I go, as long as it is Away.

But this, I do know: I will not rest until the Charmings are brought to justice.

Something Cool to Me:

This short was fully hand-animated by a single man to teach children how animation used to be (and well-done work still is...) made. It's called Snow Bear and is about a polar bear who makes himself a friend... I like how much skill he put into it.

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Closing thoughts:

The other night, I had a moment.

It wasn't a good one.

I was in my room, looking for the bottle I'm now rinsing my sinuses out with nightly (8-10 ounces through the nose. Wheee), and having an argument with myself about why I don't wanna be doing this. I don't like water up my nose. I don't like having to give the bottle a thorough washing once I get done with a two-minute process that doesn't make it any more unsanitary (in my personal opinion), and I hate the weird taste that lingers in my mouth.

And as I'm arguing with myself, out of my mouth popped "It's not worth it. I'm not worth it. This is pointless."

I had no conscious leading-up to this particular statement, but I know that I've been struggling with my value in God's eyes for awhile (which you can probably tell. I'm not very subtle.)

What really bothered me about this was I said this entirely out of nowhere, and I realized what I was saying. So I countered that argument aloud. "I am worth it. If Jesus died for me, rinsing out my nose" (for what we just admitted was a two-minute process, tops) "is not that big a deal in comparison. The effort will be worth it. That is a lie. I'm just tired and I need to stop agreeing with the lie."

Which is all well and good. Resist the Devil and he will flee from you.

But when I got done rinsing, my head started aching instead of feeling better. And I got a metallic taste in my mouth. (Side effect of the cauterization I didn't get warned about. Nothing serious.) I started crying, which didn't help, and when Dad asked if I was okay, I said that if I thought I could get away with it without causing a mess, I'd step out in front of a bus. And then proceeded to start crying harder. (This, by the way, was the beginning of a 72-hour migraine. I don't do well with those, and I immediately felt guilty on top of it for what I'd said.)

All that progress I thought I'd made not five minutes prior? Pfft. Long gone.

Dad, being the good guy he is, looked at me and gave me a big hug and told me that he was glad I was here and that it was going to be fine. God was in control, and prayed with me. Which brought down my blood pressure enough that I could take medicine and head to bed.

My point in all this, is as follows:

Resist the Devil, and he will flee from you. But he'll often make a second round a little later to see if he can get you to fall down there, instead. Our battle doesn't end with one fight. Keep running to Jesus, don't just run at the first sign and then think that'll cover you. And know that you're not alone if you fall down, and that God doesn't hate you if you screw it up. He'll pick you up and hug you.

The fox bows again, and as it turns to leave, cocks its head.

"Shall I take a message in return?"