Reaching for Cynestia Moon

 

Kyushu Moon

So I've got myself a plan. I want to get at least 3 scifi novels done by the time I am 40. I know all their names, their stories . . . and that my ambition often fails me. But I want to become, no, rather to grow into Cynestia Moon! That's the pen name I have chosen for my scifi author alter-self. (*At the suggestion of a wise friend, I've already snagged the instagram, gmail, facebook, twitter and url for that name).

Cynestia is a play on Synestia, which is a theory of moon formation. You could also say it is a play on Cynthia, a mythological moon goddess. 

So far, I have written half of a scifi middlegrade verse novel. Here's to wild fantasias and a future ink-stained party at age 40! 

Sometimes making a list makes it all real. These are the novels I am dreaming of completing in the next several years:

1. Bad Species: Diary of a Once and Future Human (what happens when 2020 tries to destroy the world, and you are inspired by the doomed brilliancy of the epic scifi poem "Aniara."

2. Agent Regalia (Space Adventure/Romance with a hint of Say Yes to the Dress.)

3. Cosmortalis: Cyborg+Boy (Total space opera, my husband really wants me to finish this one! I got stalled on about page 100 and need to do some serious revision)

Bonus book: My Last Boyfriend Bought Me A ------ (This one is a secret involving ex boyfriends, android parents and a herd of bratty bio-engineered unicorns. Won't say more!)

Thank You, All My Ink Ghosts!

So I am turning 37 this month, and I guess I'm old enough to have a mini mid-life crisis (2020 Apocalypse aside) because I've been struggling with pangs of supreme melancholia that I haven't accomplished more with this precious deal called life. Especially when I consider that both my parents passed away relatively young, I have to wonder if over half my life span isn't already gone. But you know what? I needed all this time to make me who I am today.

 

I spent my teenage years dreaming up the epic world of Lorelei and Tiko, spurred on in my inky adventures by the rapt attention of my sisters and best friend, Anandi. I devoted the first half of my twenties to learning the grueling craft of writing in college classes. The latter half of my youth was poured into writing my first two clumsy novels and many hundreds of pages of other unfinished stories (for some reason I would hit the 100 page mark and just quit. Sorry, Thelonius Lackey!). But from all these failures, I gleaned more about my weaknesses and strengths in writing fundamentals such as plot, dialogue and characterization.

Oh, and then I had my fabulous agent Natalie for many years, and I failed again. None of my stories found homes with traditional publishers. Looking back, I think I really needed to learn and commit to the art of revision. I will never be done learning how to revise! The first half of my thirties I self-published three novels, and I'm grateful for everything I discovered about self-discipline from that process even though none of them were commercial successes. 

Now I'm ready for the next chapter in my life. And you know what? I'm not the same person I was in my 20's. The deepness of sorrow, pain and joy have all challenged and changed me. The stories I want to tell are completely different. And that's okay, and as it should be. I can't wait to see where all my ink ghosts take me next!

 *(A sneak peek at the fabulous illustrations by Bonnie Bishop for my children's book True Gossamer: A Wingless Fairy Tale, which I will hopefully be revealing this December assuming the world doesn't implode on 2020 crazy beams and murder hornets!)

Look what one rock can do

At times, I can feel myself fading a little more with each year. Age and ache eat my heart out. I remember as a teenager waiting for the bus and staring at a bright moon in the early blue sky burning like a coin. How that moon fire cut me to the quick! Now I find myself snapping at embers and wondering if I was only ever shadow dreaming of soul. 

But I gather strength from this little stubborn rock that braved flooding from the Red River:

Against the overwhelming muck, 

the stone stood firm and made a pattern 

of cracks and light,

 proving even one little rock 

has power 

in itself.