Tag Archives: publishing

Creating Natural Dialogue

by in The Chronicles of Urth: Blestemul and tagged , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Dialogue can be difficult.

I think the hardest part about it is making it seem natural. In all honesty, a writer is simply an individual that talks to him/herself. So when you’re just talking to yourself, how the hell can you create good dialogue? I took a gander on the internet to see if other people had tips, or stories to share. One link I found was pretty good. I usually stand against NaNoWriMo materials, but this one seemed pretty on par.

But, I didn’t read all of it. Couldn’t be bothered cuz I really didn’t give a shit, but you may. I don’t think I’m the master of dialogue. In fact, I fuckin’ hate writing it. It’s annoying, and it NEVER completely feels naturally to me, even when I’m reading the works of supposed “masters”.  Once again, I fucking HATE writing dialogue, but it’s something that must (should?) be done.

Dialogue usually comes in good moments. Or at least I’ve found that. I’ll have days where things just fit between two characters. I don’t have to think, and their personalities literally allow a conversation. But let’s be real, shall we? I’m simply talking to myself. So here’s something I try that actually works pretty well.

Literally, I speak dialogue out loud (when alone, or one the shitter hopefully alone) like I’m rehearsing a part for a play, or movie. I’m tellin’ you, it works for me. It works, and I’m gonna stick with it. Sometimes, I play out entire plot points in real time. Often in the car. I’ll choreograph fight scenes, plan conversation/confrontation, and see how they play out. Also, you have to know your characters.

That is one thing I can say with confidence. I know my characters very well, and when they surprise me, I’m delighted. These sudden left turns add definition to a character, and keeps readers interested while punishing them at the same time. Also, being an only child with OCD, my imagination is stronger than my concept of reality, and it helps me weave decent stories and dialogue. Fuck, I hate writing it so much I had to find a way to make it fun for myself.

What about you? How do you create dialogue? Plot? How do you move the story along?

Writing and the Mind- Getting Back on Track

by in The Chronicles of Urth: Blestemul and tagged , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Finding the strength to write is like gripping sand.

Dragging myself out of the brine of complacency, I have lied to myself as to where I need to be, and what I need to do. The mind is a terrible thing. Not to waste, but a terrible thing. I have imagined and seen things in my mind’s eye that have irrevocably changed how I think. By a little bit. Every day. Completely changing, over and over again. That’s how all minds work. Not just mine. I’m not unique there.

I’ve been writing again. Who knows why the flow slows? Who knows why my stomach drops when I think about slamming down a few more words outta a keyboard? I don’t know. And I’ve spent too much time in my life trying to figure out a final reason, a final truth. It might as well be a holy grail for Christsake. Unattainable. Impossible. Unreachable. The mind is too complex for me, or for anyone else to fully understand.

I’ve discovered that forcing myself to write just a little bit begins the flow again. I haven’t been able to write for hours in a long time, but I can feel the inspiration coming. It happens like this every time I write a novel; I reach a point where I’m goin’ through the motions, and then I come back full force. I can feel it. It’s there. As for drawing and art, there isn’t much left now. Concept art for Blestemul I mean. In case you couldn’t tell, I’ve been clutching and clawing for exposure through posting pictures. Simply because the content of my blog has been shit lately.

Time to get back on track. I’ve written over 200 pages in this new book, and I’ll I’ve been doing is pissin’ and moanin’ about how hard writing is when I should be doing the thing I created this fuckin’ blog for. So here we go.

As of right now, I’ve been trying to develop character connections through difficult experiences and trust loops. Along with this, I’ve been changing my main character, twisting him into something the reader might not like. But I always have a plan when it comes to something like this. I won’t disappoint.

As for the beginning of the novel, it starts out simply enough. An alcoholic, washed-up “soldier” eeks out a living on some godforsaken shit hill town when an opportunity to redeem himself in the eyes of himself presents itself. Alistar, the main character, has given himself up to the demon, Blestemul, his symbiotic demon-pistol. Stuck inside his head, the demon goads, supports, and torments him as he strikes back at those who have held him down, and are continuing to destroy other peoples’ lives in plain view, under the guise of innocent righteousness.

I also tried to break stereotypes in this book. I created races that seem more bestial, but I developed them like any other “human” character. They have personalities, they wear clothes, cologne, they have opinions, jokes, likes, dislikes, loss and gain. It shows that a good person is a good person, and one can transcend any ignorance with a little effort.

Right now, one friend of Alistar’s, Kone, is missing. One recovered after a traumatic event that she (Jala) shared with AListar, and Spek is now looking for Kone inside of a primordial and very dangerous swamp. They are close to reaching the location of their main objective, and then the book should take off with aggression and grace.

That’s where I am. Now you know, and now I’ve said it. Wrote it. And I feel better. I’m giving you the writing you deserve to read. Am I god’s gift to the written word? NO. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to try. Thanks for reading and sticking with my fury. I won’t disappoint you. I promise.

I AM A PUBLISHED AUTHOR MOTHERFUCKER

by in Geneslave and tagged , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

YES.

I did it. I fuckin’ did it. Geneslave is now available for a delicious 2.99 dollar price tag in the vast wonders of Kindlespace. I just uploaded the bastard now (04 June 2012: 16:47hrs), so it won’t be available for about 12-24 hours or so, but who cares? I got over the bullshit in my head, and I published my fuckin’ book!

I am not bragging. I am just ecstatic.

If you decide to buy my book, you will roughly pay 0.000025 cents a word. I did the math, bitch! Honestly? I don’t care if I make five fuckin’ dollars on this sonfabitch, it’s published, and I did it without the help of a formal, tangible copy publishing house, literary agent, independent editor, or lawyer. It’s copyrighted, protected, and READY to FUCKIN’ GO. Open your Kindle, and search for Geneslave. That’s it. You can also go on Amazon.com to purchase as well. AND you can get a muthafuckin’ KINDLE APP to read this bastard. Do it however you want!

In case you haven’t noticed yet, this isn’t about the money. Never was. Money is icing. This was me conquering the literary industry, and spitting in the faces of those who would shun my book because I didn’t have a shiny award, or because I didn’t know someone on the inside. And this isn’t just a victory for me! Oh no. This is a victory for real writers like me EVERYWHERE that has faced the same problems I have. The best part was it was EASY to upload this bastard! Easy! Formatting it was hard as Hell, but getting on Kindle was a cinch!

If you’re ready to publish, click this link. Once you set up an account to publish your book with Kindle, you just fill out a simple form and upload yer shit! It’s like starting up an e-mail account. I love it. I give a step by step guide on formatting and getting your book ready for Kindle in the archives of my blog if you need it by the way.

With that said, YOU. You can do this. You, the writer, the artist, the creative one, you can do this dammit, you can do this, and you can do this well! Get published! There is no more reasons as to why you can’t anymore. Your fate, no, a writer’s fate, is now something that can be controlled by the writer, like it should be. Start writing that masterpiece! Start formatting and publishing that manuscript that some ass sniffing literary agent wouldn’t accept. Publish that book that the publishing house wouldn’t print. Get out there and fucking write you ass off, and tell the whole goddamn world that I AM A WRITER, AND I EXIST.

It’s time to join the revolution.

Progress on Kindle and Concept Art

by in The Chronicles of Urth: Blestemul and tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

I’m back. Great vacation- got some good time with the lovely wife and some good times at a massive theme park. Enough of that, let’s get into the shit right away.

Before  post concept art, I want to tell you all something. I bit the progress bullet, stopped being a whiny bitch, and opened my Kindle account for selling my books. If you’re at this stage, you can click on this link. It was painless, and now? I can start uploading m’shit. And you’ll all be the first ones to know when I do. Setting up a Kindle publishing account is easy as fuck. It’s just like setting up an e-mail account. Also, make sure you have your social security card ready, too.

Alright, with that exciting (for me at least) announcement out of the way, I wanted to continue with the explanation of plasmatic weapons in TCoU:Blestemul. While I was forty thousand feet in the fuckin’ air, I came up with some pretty solid diagrams as to how actual rifle would look. The first picture (the one below) is an outdated version of what the weapon would look like. However, its parts are all current. You see, in Urth, there are bizarre new elements formed after the cataclysm. These elements allowed the technology for such energy weapons to exist (I will cover ALL the elements I “invented” in a later entry). Enough. Here’s the art:

These are the basic parts to what a standard E.A. rifle would look like. I didn’t think the look of the weapon felt right, though. It looked too…primitive. Too…fragile. Basic. I mean, pick an adjective it just don’look right. So, I tweaked it and came up with a final concept for a basic E.A. weapon found all over Urth. Take a look at this shit:

Much better. Here, I detailed the furniture of the weapon rather than the actual internal mechanisms n’ shit. A protruding barrel didn’t make any sense to me, along with a defined seating for the weapon’s guts. So, I made an all inclusive model that keeps everything contained, controlled, and monitored. I made it look more futuristic (for lack of a better term) to satisfy any sci-fi tech cravings I had at the time. I also included some specs on the weapon itself, like rate of fire, projectile effective range, and so-on.

Honestly? I’ve been trying to develop a competent weapon like this since I was 12. I am 26 now. Only recently did I find the real science and facts I needed to mutate and bend to my will. It ain’t easy being inside my head, and I don’t say that because I think I’m special or unique. I say that because I have O.C.D., or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Ideas, worries, thoughts, they are always smashing around in my skull, and the urge to constantly improve my fiction and make the ideas I present inside my work as plausible causes me to create something like this. Sometimes, I think talent is just another word for obsession. Do I consider myself talented? No. I’ve always seen myself as someone that loves the creative process so much, that I can’t stop doing it. Is that talent? Okay then. I’m talented. But I think a more appropriate term would be obsessed.

Alright then, another post down. I want FEEDBACK. You. Fucking. Tools. Speak up! Good and bad critique (as long as its constructive) will be read, considered, and responded to. Don’t be silent. Tell me I suck, or tell me I’m awesome, as long as you have an actual path of reasoning behind your opinion, I will not ignore it.

Anger, Shame, and Pain

by in Thoughts with a Sharp Tongue and tagged , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Problems lately.

An excuse. A pathetic one nonetheless. Pain and shame are probably the two greatest motivating factors in my life, and I have had to deal with this up close and personally many times. I’ve been struggling with my writing for some time now. More than writer’s block, it is a will to fail that is pushing me down. I talk a LOT of shit on publishing companies, editors, agents, printers, everyone in the literary industry. But my biggest obstacle is, and always will be, myself.

I don’t want to complete my book.

I want to sit and look at it, disgusted at my own inability to complete and move forward. I get engrossed in side projects, blame my life outside of my book, fuckin’ name it. I want to rest on soiled laurels reeking of the past and my incredible ignorance. No matter who may fuck around with you in your life, you’ll always be standing in your own way. Always. You will find things out about yourself, you will change, you will die, you will be born, you will wish for death, pray for slaughter, everything. Meat is weak, will is strength.

—Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength—

SAY IT. Repeat it in your head over and over, like a terrible mantra, a hideous, bloody mantra that drives itself deeper into your fucking brain until all that you are is infected and taken over by your mind. You body cannot exist without your mind, your soul, your will. Your soul can. Meat is weak.

I’ve been focusing too much on the fuckin’ meat. We’re all just shuffling bags of greasy beef, trying to live our meager lives. Meager, untilWE change them. I’ve had several rude awakenings in the last few weeks, and they’re all burning on my mind like a clothes iron, just waitin’ to come out the other side. I am ashamed of my own weakness and vulnerability. This brings anger, and finally, pain. I am furious with myself right now. I hate what I have started to let myself become, and now I’m on the road to change. My will is my power, and I am not allowing the meat to take over and make me weak.

Beat your body. Beat it up. Make it beg for you to stop, and then tell your mind to keep on going. You rlungs will burn, your muscles will cramp, your bones will crack, your eyes will rupture, your brain will liquefy, your blood with turn into thick ash and YOUR WILL IS ALL YOU WILL EVER HAVE. I WILL NOT LET MY MEAT PREVENT ME FROM WRITING MY BOOK. PUBLISHING. SELLING.

FEED. YOUR. WILL.

Your meat is already dead.

 

TCoU: Blestemul Concept Art for a Demon

by in The Chronicles of Urth: Blestemul and tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

How do?

TCoU: Blestemul, my next novel, is going along nicely so far. I’m at a little bit of a lull point in the story, you know where you have to build shit up before you bring the axe down? But hey. I’ll get through it, you’ll get through it, and then the good stuff will happen. Anyway, without revealing too much of the story, Blestemul is a very unique demon that shape shifts according to what instrument it can do the most damage with in conjunction with its chosen host (Alistar Crowne, the main character of TCoU:B in this case). It is a demon of pure rage and violence, but is surprisingly smart and sometimes supportive in times of need. Blestemul is what makes Alistar’s “quest” possible, which I will not reveal.

I went through a LOT of different concepts for this fuckin’ thing. I mean a lot. More than what you see here. I needed to get the perfect melding of beast and gun metal to make this thing look right. I wanted something sinister, but not completely without familiar qualities. I also wanted something that was much more than just an enchanted gun. If you’ve ever played the video games Shadowman, Devil May Cry, or Shadows of the Damned, I didn’t want this stylish weapon that looked cool and made a big racket. I wanted something that reflect a demon’s true form. Blestemul (which is Romanian forcurse) fit the bill. Also, if you played Shadows of the Damned, I didn’t copy the talking gun. In fact, I was quite pissed when I found my idea thrown out there already, but its my fault for not moving when I should have. Anyway, here’s one of three sketches I did for Blestemul:

I was having a little trouble with the overall form here. And Blestemul looked too…inorganic. So, I tried to change this up a bit and add more demon meat to the pistol’s furniture. I also removed the clip- it just didn’t fit into what I was trying to create. Here’s number two of three:

Now I have too much organic, and not enough metal. I was supremely frustrated at this point, and I’m pretty sure I took a break before I took another crack at it. If you’re an artist, there is nothing more frustrating when you’re trying to complete a piece than to watch it mutate into an image that was not in your head. Here’s the third and final picture, and Blestemul’s true form:

That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Here, I decided to add a gaping maw at the muzzle. Quite literally, this is where an odious and long tongue shoots out from under the weapon to grab, crush, and shove enemies and obstacles aside. If Blestemul really wants to get nasty, the demon reels in his victim, and the weapon’s mouth expands for a bone shattering chomp that is fatal and degrading. The tongue is not only a weapon. It is prehensile, meaning Alistar can using it like a grappling hook, and it can get “sniff” the air like a snake to see if there is anything of interest around. Also, it can be used to molest a target which saps the very life out of their bodies (if the abuse continues), reads their minds and memories, and makes them sick (Blestemul’s saliva is thick and yellowish green, like mucus) via slow poisoning. Symptoms include migraine, vomiting, fever, aches, severe hallucinations (auditory, visual, olfactory), and death if the dose is high enough.

Blestemul has a unique personality which is an ongoing development in progress. Many demons are stereotypically liars and deceivers. So is Blestemul, but he is also honest and supportive when he needs be. He is a tormentor, even to Alistar, as well as a valuable ally. He is a contradiction, constantly weaving all around him into a web of lies and truth, love and hate, anger and peace, that only he can read and understand. And let me tell you, it is FUN. To write as Blestemul.

Alright, that’s all for now I think. Comments? Questions? Lay em’ on me, you know I’ll answer. Got any characters you love to write for? Draw? Let me know.

Final Cover Preview: Geneslave

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I finished it!

I was worried initially about how this cover would come out, but I am pleased. This is what the cover will look like when I finally upload this sucker to Kindle and get it ready for the market. Take a look:

I am very proud of this. I don’t care what anyone says. Doesn’t mean I don’t want feedback, but I am happy with this piece and how it will tie in with the novel as a whole. On standard sketchpad paper, I used HB pencil, 0.1mm black marker, and watercolors. Oh, and not the expensive shit. This was done on a budget. Goes to show you that you can make something you’re proud of with your own two hands and not have to abide by anyone’s rules. Does that mean what I do is right for you? No, of course not. Do whatever you want. But if you’re like me? There is something satisfying and vindictive about doing whatever the flying FUCK you want when it comes to creative control of your own work.

Enougha that shit. I don’t know when I’ll get it ready for Kindle- I’m shooting for this week. But when I do, you’ll be the first to hear about it. Oh, I may be posting stuff for Blestemul in between now and then, so stay turned for that too. Keep writing, signing, playing, drawing, painting, dancing, punching, eating, bathing, flipping, and fucking, do what you want and do it well. Just do it responsibly.

As always ALL forms of serious feedback is welcomed. I will respond to your comments.

Cover Art: Geneslave Part 2

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Hello there again!

Geneslave’s cover is almost complete. I should be able to finish this bastard over the weekend. Here is what I have so far:

Alright, this is stage two of the cover process. I decided to add some ink into this to make the lines more defined. I love you, 0.1mm markers. Anyway, this is where I am. If you have any questions on what the cover means, leave a comment. I’ll answer. Please tell me what you think and why- good and bad.

A Sample Chapter and MORE- TCoU: Blestmul

by in The Chronicles of Urth: Blestemul and tagged , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Well, hello there.

As you may or may not know, I have been writing my 4th book, The Chronicles of Urth: Blestemul. This is my most massive undertaking, and I have never been happier living and writing in a world that I have created. Okay, so before we get into the concept art I wanted to post for this, I am laying down the prologue so you can understand what happens in the book, and what I’m talking about. Here’s a sample torn right from the word document:

Prologue:

Humans are stupid. In fact, they’re fucking morons. Inquisitive, sadistic, childish morons. At the best, they are gallant inventors, adventurers, creators, and healers. At worst, they are destructive, ignorant, arrogant, useless parasites. Humans become more and more xenophobic and secular by the decade, and their quest for knowledge of how to kill each other was always going to lead to cataclysm. And it did, in the year 2050.

It wasn’t a nuclear war. Wasn’t even a war to begin with. Mount Everest. Biggest fuckin’ thing on the planet. Moronic humans would climb that wretched hunk of rock and bitch and moan when they would die on it, surprised of their fate. It was only a matter of time before they discovered the mountain’s secret. A door, more specifically, was found. Barely larger than a doggie door, but there none the less. With curiosity peaked and the group’s findings made public, it wasn’t long before more humans came.

Further investigation revealed that the “door” was some kind of lock into a massive chamber that lay beyond. Excavation began, and soon Everest revealed its secret: the mountain isn’t a natural structure. It also wasn’t man made.

Massive in scope, the interior of Everest sprawled through that tiny trap door, with extraordinarily sophisticated machinery inside. Still operational, buzzing and humming. It was vacant, and it had looked as if nothing was living there. Fortunately, whoever built this structure kept a journal, and revealed the secrets of eons upon eons of life on Earth.

Facts, logs, data, everything was listed, everything since Earth formed, and the log ended in 2011. Apparently, whoever created this structure could pierce the mind of those how used it, and auto-translated itself to whatever form of communication the user was fluent in, whether it was ancient Sumerian, or the facial gestures and tail flicks of a dog. Further study revealed that the beings that made Everest where actually aliens that would introduce the process of life to an otherwise barren planet, regulating it’s every step of development. This race chose Earth, using powerful technologies to move the planet to just the right spot in the solar system, essentially moving every other planet along with it.

So powerful was this race that they monitored all life on the planet, inventing species, controlling weather formations, natural disasters, helping species die out (like the dinosaurs) and helping species thrive (like humans). It even had its own instruction manual, and literally told the user how to be a god on Earth. These aliens believed in a greater good, as said their religion, that they were responsible for creating and taking care of life, searching the solar system for ripe planets to develop and nourish.

Further study revealed that they introduced these ideals to groups of humans all at the same time in different places of the earth, hoping that they would understand the capacity for creation and life. Hoping that they too would be guardians and creators themselves. They didn’t.

Humans formulated religions everywhere, and as the alien’s god introduced messiahs, prophets, saints, so on and so forth, this overload forced humans to miss the overall view. Instead, they fought over these ideals, and eventually, where the log ends, the aliens asked for forgiveness from their god, simply called Good, and abandoned Earth.

Like the idiots they are, humans fought over control of the facility. America fought Russia, who fought China, which fought Great Britain, and so on and so forth, almost heralding in the third world war. However, something happened as humans tried to seize control of the command center. An alarm was triggered, loud and terrible, and Everest collapsed on itself. This released a massive wave of energy that completely warped Earth. Basically, it was like hitting reset button on a planet, and then dropping it into an evolutionary blender stuck in overdrive.

The aliens basically created a self destruct that forced the planet into a state of re-evolution. Instead of destroying Earth, the aliens wanted life to have a chance to start all over again. It didn’t wipe the trace of humanity and all its records.  The aliens simply restarted it. Without their help. Without their influence.

Now spelled Urth after the Cataclysm, the planet is in the clutches of an evolutionary oxymoron that stabilized after roughly 3000 years of accelerated change. Life re-stabilized in roughly 2000 years, and after a mere 1500, intelligent races now roam Urth, developing incredible technologies with new materials and old teachings, living and dealing with this new, chaotic planet. Humans, of course, are the most prolific and shortest lived.

The old species that survived eked out a living (humans among them of course) and found niches, surviving and adapting even as Earth became Urth right under their feet. Humans, now seen as wise sages, herald in a new era of light and creation, driven by wisdom and….I can’t even finish that. Humans didn’t learn shit, and those that did went back doing the same garbage they did before.

Only this time, there is no reset. Humans learn from the past, true. We started recording history again, failures, successes, making records, creating technologies based off of old ones, studying old sciences and making new experiments. However, we do not learn lessons. We only seek to advance what we already have, and now species clash, come together, and survive across desert plains with patches of rainforest, massive ice formations with bubbling magma, lush, tropical ice flows, random storms in the middle of mutated swamps, rocky tundra, volcanic grasslands, hurricanes among cryo-volcanoes without rain. Saltwater now a rarity, the entire planet almost completely covered in a mega-Pangaea with massive freshwater oceans. Constant climate change, constant weather changes, constant landscape changes, constant ecological contradictions, but life still finds a way to thrive. To survive.

Welcome to Urth, motherfucker.

I know, right?! WHEEEE!

Anyway, now you have a better understand of what has happened to our happy lil’ planet before humans royally fucked it  up (sounds familiar?). I created several main races that the forced evolution of the Cataclysm generated, using the basic human blueprint. The first race I created were the Incub:

Cool, huh? Alright, like I promised before, I wanted this blog not only to be a resource for writers like me, but I wanted to give readers a chance to get immersed in fiction and actually see what an author (me) goes through to create a novel. Me? I like concept art. And back story, which is rare to get in a novel without using a shitty plot device. So, that’s why I’m writing back story here, on the blog. So, if you read my book when it comes out, you can directly view, and communicate with me so I can elaborate on or clear up any questions that you may have. See? Cool.

Incub Biology

Incubs are enigmatic, but not mysterious. They are mammals: females have breasts like human women. They lack an abundance of body hair. Ranging from 170lbs to 220lbs on average, they stand no taller than 6 feet in most instances. Their lifespans typically do not exceed 110 years, reaching sexual maturity at 20-25 years of age. Their skin range from light blue to a rich, deep navy. The always have one eye, and lack two basic facial features. A nose, and a mouth. But. They are not hindered by this at all. Instead of a nose to pick up scents, they have super sensitive hairs on the tips of their ears. These gather particles of the surrounding environment and input the data as scent in the Incub’s brain.

As for a mouth, they don’t have one. They instead have a unique, and impossibly intricate voice box that they push air through to make a hum, which they form into words (the language of their choice) using said voice box and a sophisticated internal tongue which move through the system of bones and tissue inside the voice box. Breathing is achieved with lungs, but not through a mouth and nose (obviously). Trillions of microscopic pores dot the Incub’s face and under the chin, allowing air to pass through via lung control and system autonomous pore control.

Eating like a starfish, Incubs have a seam on their abdominal wall that is control much like a mouth. They throw their stomachs on their food, where it is held in the stomach which is lined with billions of taste buds, far more sensitive than a human tongue. Incubs taste food for hours as their body digests it, savoring each portion of the food as it is digested and pushed through the system. Incub stomach acids are completely clear and have no flavor. Digested food passes through the Incub just like any other mammal.

They have three fingers on each hand, but five toes on each foot. Their hands sport retractable claws which are quite sharp and can extend out to 3” in length. Also, on the left arm, an Incub has a poisonous stinger that has a cocktail of poisons, much like a snake. This venom causes paralysis in small doses, and internal hemorrhaging and brain death in large doses. This stinger is retractable. When refined, Incub venom can be dried and insufflated, causing intense hallucinations and inducing a dopamine soaked pleasure ride lasting for hours. Often, when a dose of this drug is taken, several powerful orgasms occur in the subject instantaneously.

Incub Culture and Personality

Incubs are somewhat furtive by nature, but not surly or gruff. They have a complex system of social intricacies involving honor, pride, and strength. They are a very active race- never happy to sit and stagnate. Athletic, but far from mindlessly violent, Incub sporting events are jovial and serious at the same time. Feats of great strength, endurance, or mental aptitude are all equally praised and admired. Incub scholars are very intelligent, and completely devoted to whatever school of study they adhere to. They are dedicated, fastidious, and powerful, but can be gentle, empathetic and philanthropic.

Incub men are considered feminine if they get involved in fighting. Considered strictly women’s work, and an Incub army is almost completely comprised of women. Incub men are typically skills in martial arts and gunplay, but almost never engage in combat outside of defending themselves or their families. Petty disputes are often fought with wits by both genders, and will never resort to violence unless attacked first. Not all Incubs adhere to their strict moral and social guidelines after all. Men are very content in defending and taking care of the family while female Incub work and fight, but it is typicaly not frowned upon in Incub society for a man to work as well.

Eating in public is considered a vulgar act, like exhibitionism in other races. Instead, decorative screens abscond the act from view in public restaurants and whenever the Incub is not alone. It is considered very rude to eat without a screen, and many Incub never go anywhere without a portable screen they can use when needed.

Incub reproduction involve lengthy courtships, but sex is typically not a private act. Not to be confused with promiscuity, having sex in public is  very common, and often the act is studied by other Incub to pick up pointers. Basically, if two Incub feel the urge, they act on it wherever they may be. Swapping partners, or participating in observed sexual activity is a massive taboo, and often considered a crime. Nudity is common in Incub society as well, but another race visiting an Incub city completely bare assed would be frowned upon greatly, often ending in an arrest. Incub sex organs are almost identical to human sex organs. Incubs cannot breed with any other species, but that does not mean they will not have sex with other species.

Goddamn. That about does it for the Incub. If you have any questions about them, ask me. I’ll answer you. Hope you enjoyed this, cuz I have a DICKload of concept art waiting to be uploaded in my mighty hard drive. Until next time.

Big Update for the New Year

by in Geneslave, Thoughts with a Sharp Tongue and tagged , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

It has been awhile, but it was all worth it.

The holidays…oh boy. You know how those go, so I’m not going to bore any of you with that shit. Instead, I am going to describe the new steps that I have started on Geneslave, and my new book. As you may have deduced, I don’t have a cover for my book, Geneslave. I dabble in art, and my wife suggested that I draw one. I am not a professional artist, but I do like to do abstract shit. So that’s what I am going to do. Also, I am not chickening out on publishing my book. I’ve re-adjusted my strategy.

My wife has good connections. Period. I don’t have shit. Honestly, I’ve never liked networking. I feel as though a business relationship can’t be forced, it must come naturally. Me being skeptical, judgmental, and jaded, I don’t always give a fair chance where a fair chance is due. My wife, however, does. And through he connections and astounding personality, she has some ideas that I may, or may not go with.

I love her cover idea. I am all over that. But she has some other ideas that she wants to pitch to me that I would be very open to. She is…very smart in a way that I can’t understand. That makes her invaluable as a life partner, and in marketing. Anyway, enough about my awesome wife.

The bottom line is I have a habit of getting SO excited about something, I rush it. I looked closely at Geneslave, and I love the piece too much to rush it. I am going to make sure this fuckin’ thing is as perfect as it can get before I put it out on the market. Hopefully, my impatience won’t get the better of me. I haven’t given up, I  haven’t become lax about the blog. I am still here, still writing, and still moving forward. Speaking of which…

I am 40 pages into writing my new book. This is the largest endeavor I have ever undertaken from a writer’s point of view. I have literally fabricated a world out of thin air by changing the one I already live on. Very soon, I will have a SHIT TON of concept art for you to look at, and I will talk more about my creative process and what works for me as a writer.

Don’t think I left. There is no way in Hell that I’m givin’ up now, and neither should you. Are you writing something? Wrote something? Lemmie know, let’s talk a little about it. What how much you reveal, though. I don’t want your ideas getting stolen by some tool lookin’ to make a quick buck.