Holo Writing

Authors Jacob & H.P. Holo

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Meet our new blessing, Dazzle.

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We had not intended to get a new cat. Not this soon.

For me, the loss of Nova was still so raw that the idea of adopting any new cat felt like a betrayal of her memory and all the joy she’d brought us. Like an ungrateful dismissal of a near-decade of blessing.

But this past Friday, my mom received a text.

See, my family has an unofficial Cat Network. None of us actually try to find cats, but cats find us, and together we get the cats to the places where they need to be.

In keeping with family tradition, my cousin’s boyfriend found an abandoned kitten on one of his construction sites. Cousin then went to rescue kitten … much to the surprise of her mom, who declared “You’re not getting ANOTHER cat!” (Cousin already has two, from similar origins. It’s A Whole Thing. 🤣)

But cousin had A Plan, and picked up her phone.

“I know it’s soon, but …”

It was soon. I told mom I’d think on it, and perhaps meet the kitten the next day since I was going to be in town anyway.

Then I showed Jacob the text.

We visited the cat that very evening.

And, well, you see the result. ☺️

The thing is, y’all, this cat’s absurd.

He cuddles.
He flops for scratches.
He squeaks.
He carries on conversations.

And he loves on sight.

There is so much of Nova in this random abandoned kitten that his every move makes me cry in her memory.

But it’s a happy cry now, because it feels like she had some part in sending him. Like she couldn’t bear to see us sad, even from her next life, and did what she could to help.

We named him in Nova’s honor, after the Dazzling Skies through which she fell.

Meet our new blessing, Dazzle.

To Nova, in her next life.

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I’ve long called Nova a serendipitous cat.

Appropriately, there was serendipity even in her passing.

We know we’re not the only ones grieving. So y’all need to hear the story of how she passed, and perhaps I need to tell it.

The past several days have been some of the worst of my life – largely because, Nova’s kidney numbers being what they were, there was nothing we could do except keep her comfortable and watch to decide when caring for her was no longer a mercy.

It’s the worst decision we’ve ever had to make, made even worse by the fact that her spirit was still as strong as ever. Her distinctive, wide eyes never lost their luster, and she never lost her loving, sassy expressions.

But she’d lost everything else.

Nova was a vocal enough cat that Jacob and I routinely carried on “conversations” with her, and she responded like she understood. She had a distinctive, delighted “prrt” she’d make when we surprised her with scritches. She had a ritual flop that she’d do whenever she wanted to be scratched on a certain part of her back, and she’d always do it during Jacob’s morning stretches, because his free hand was always perfectly positioned to give scratches. When Jacob sat down, she’d be in his lap in two seconds flat. (My lap was subpar, so she only sat in mine when he was at work.)

She’d done increasingly fewer of those things in the week leading to her fateful checkup.

The turning point was her tail flick. Nova has a distinctive tail flick that she does when she hears us say her name. She’ll do it in her sleep. It’s only for us. She does it with vigor even when she doesn’t feel well.

There came a point yesterday where she didn’t have the strength to flick her tail.

There were other, more conspicuous points, too – breath smelling like ammonia, cooling body heat, irregular breathing. I suspected that if we didn’t act that day, she’d suffer in the night from one of the dramatic results of kidney disease, and we wouldn’t be able to ease her suffering until the morning when the relevant services reopened. That’s no way for a cat like Nova to go.

But here’s where it gets serendipitous.

I’d sat down to write with her earlier that day, hoping to grant her what normalcy I could – and perhaps needing to have one last writing day with my cat. Once I suspected how the day would end, I burst into a hot mess of tears (a common theme of the past few days).

At which point – despite her weakness – Nova looked up at me with a distinct expression I see frequently on the writing porch. Only she knows what it means in her cat brain, but I interpret it as her “MA’AM, YOU SHOULD BE WRITING” look. And that day it came across as “Ma’am, I’m still your boss. My dying is no excuse for you to not be writing.”

I laughed, because well, it was so Nova.

But also, it felt like permission.

I talked to Jacob. He’d suspected the inevitability longer than I had, largely because Nova spends more time with him, and he could feel the nuances in her suffering before I could. He’s also the more realistic of the two of us, and I am an incorrigible shonen anime optimist who thinks I can solve every problem if I just yell and cry and fight hard enough to unlock my next power level. It works for most things. In cases like this, it’s my most painful trait. And I didn’t want my selfish optimism to be the thing that prolonged Nova’s suffering.

Thus, we made the appointment. We’d intended to have her put to sleep at home for her comfort (and because there’s only one thing in the world that she hates, and it’s cars), but the service our vet recommended wasn’t open that day. So we took her to her vet.

Which was another bit of serendipity.

See, Nova is beloved at my vet. A while ago, I learned that when they board her, she doesn’t get a little cat condo. If they have a free examination room, they give her the whole room. If any of the vets had a period where they needed to work in their offices, they’d let her hang out with them because they knew she enjoyed the company.

When we brought her in, every single vet and tech that we passed offered their condolences, and some cried. We weren’t the only ones losing her. They were losing her, too. We had people to grieve with, and Nova would be sent off by even more people who loved her – something that wouldn’t have happened if we’d gone with an at-home service we’d never used before.

But that was not the end of the serendipity.

See, I remember reading that sometimes, before cats pass naturally, they get a burst of energy so extraordinary it can trick their people into thinking they’ll recover. Perhaps it was that. Perhaps it was simply the change in environment that invigorated her curiosity.

But while we waited for the vets to make their preparations, she got it.

She explored the room. She sat in both our laps. She flopped for both of us. She prrted at our scritches. She squeak-talked as we spoke to her, in full conversations.

She flicked her tail every time we said her name.

We got to see every bit of the old Nova before the vets even returned to the room.

Again, it felt like permission.

Like she was comforting us, and ensuring that our last memory of her was a blessed one.

I held her in her blanket as she passed. Even then, she looked like herself. Her eyes sparkled so brightly, full of galaxies.

Jacob and I told her we loved her, and her last act on this earth was to flick her tail.

To know she was loved, and return it.

***

Our house is quiet now.

And I find reminders of Nova in my very muscle memory. Her stair step to our bed is no longer there, but my feet still avoid it in the dark. I went to my office to lure her from her nightly hiding place – the one she specifically goes to because she knows we’ll get her out by offering treats – before I realized she wasn’t there to hear the treat bag.

There’s not a single corner of our house she doesn’t inhabit.

But also – there’s not a single corner of our house she doesn’t inhabit.

She still lives there.

She just doesn’t have a body.

And, well, Nova was *always* more spirit than body.

A sad Nova update. 😔

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It’s been a rough day at House Holo, y’all.

I took Nova to the vet this morning expecting to hear about early-stage kidney disease, but it turns out that between her two most recent checkups, she advanced from “let’s keep an eye on it” kidney stats to Stage 4 Kidney Disease, the physical symptoms of which have become increasingly obvious in the past week, like an awful string of falling dominoes.

The single worst part is that her spirit is still there. She still flicks her tail every time she hears her name, and her eyes still go wide and brilliant whenever Jacob and I come to pet her.

But her body is increasingly unable to keep up with her spirit, such that Jacob and I will soon have a decision to make.

For now, Nova’s getting all the sunbeams and scritches she desires.

But I already know my next book dedication:

“To Nova, in her next life.”

Abbott in Darkness – Book Review

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Never in my life did I think I’d enjoy a book about accounting adventures on a distant planet, but if anyone can change my mind, it’s D.J. Butler.

Abbott in Darkness Book Cover

In Abbott in Darkness, John Abbott is drowning in academic debt, but has a solid chance to pay it off through his new job with the interstellar Sarovar Company. Trouble is, that company operates in a solar system forty light-years from Earth, and he and his family have given up everything just to get there. He has to make this job work, or else they’ll be stranded light-years from home with little hope of ever going back.

But making the job work will be more dangerous than anyone expected.

John might be a humble forensic accountant, and he might have been assigned to secretly investigate corruption and theft at an isolated outpost—but the trouble he uncovers is far more complex than simple careless greed. It’s a plot that could shake human presence on this planet to its core, and thus his family with it. With those kinds of stakes, leaving the problem for someone else just isn’t an option—but none of the solutions presented are simple ones, and soon John must decide whether he wants to do what’s best for his family … or do the right thing.

It should be noted: Epic space opera and rip-roaring adventure, Abbott in Darkness is not, so set those genre expectations aside right now. What Abbott in Darkness is is a refreshingly grounded science fiction novel that takes a realistic look at what it might be like to uproot one’s family to the other side of the galaxy, and then have to deal with the ramifications of a political situation one didn’t even know to expect. There is resultant action and adventure—and parts of the novel are quite intense—but it’s not adventure sci-fi so much as the tale of a normal guy trying to make his way through a potentially deadly situation using normal guy means, and the way it balances these elements makes it one of my favorite novels of the year.

On the sci-fi end, Butler has crafted a planet that is both familiar enough to support Earthly life, but alien enough to seem genuinely foreign—especially in terms of the aliens themselves. The Sarovar Company’s success in the solar system hinges upon the production of Sarovari Weave, an intensely durable fabric produced by the native Weavers. From a human perspective, the Weavers are familiar only in that they’re vaguely crab like; they are barely capable of human language, with mouths only able to form simple words in the local pidgin, such that all trade is conducted through combinations of pidgin and pantomime.

Sarovari Pidgin itself plays a substantial role in the novel, too; since John eventually wants to make his fortune as a trader in Weave, he naturally must become versed in the language—and it ends up having lifesaving usefulness when his investigation leads him to have several dangerous run-ins with some Weavers. It’s not merely a cosmetic conlang, either. There was a part of the climax where I had to keep zipping back and forth between the page and glossary to keep up with the specifics of what was going on, and I loved seeing the language put to such essential use. (There were context clues in the scenes, of course, but anyone who’s familiar with my reviews by this point knows that I would shoot fictional languages into my veins if it were not more practical to just, you know, read them. 😂)

Avoiding spoilers, by the end, the entire book hinges upon John’s ability to wield this language (if inexpertly), gain a new and thus-far-unheard-of understanding of the Weavers’ needs and challenges, and bend all those things under the power of compromise. It’s an exciting book, and there are some wildly exciting and heroic moments near the end, but the heart of the book’s conflict is solved by unexpected (nonviolent) means, and this was one of the things I enjoyed most about it.

Another of my favorite elements is how present John’s family is in the story. It’s very easy for novels of this nature to say “The hero arrived with his family” and then push the family off to the background so the protagonist can do hero stuff—but John’s wife Ruth, his daughters Ellie and Sunitha, and even the family dog Animoosh are all visible and active elements in the story. Ruth is a stalwart pillar of support in John’s life, unafraid to ask pointed questions when necessary, and their precocious, curious daughters provide a vehicle by which to transmit useful exposition to the reader, while also charming the reader—while also reminding John of what he’s fighting to protect, especially when subtle dangers began to creep into the mundane corners of their lives.

There are more than a few scenes where the family gets involved in the dangerous action—namely during a field trip gone awry, and especially during the second half of the climax—and seeing them work together for survival as a unit without becoming an adventure movie stereotype became one of the most delightful elements of the novel (once I got my heart rate back down).

Finally, John himself is an admirable regular guy hero, fiercely loyal to his family—but also the sort of man who will look situations that benefit them in the face and ask “Is this right?” The Sarovar Company’s presence in the Sarovar solar system is one predicated on the Weave trade, rather than imperial expansion of territory, but in the course of his investigation, John uncovers some problems that echo those that usually emerge in the process of colonization. The Company doesn’t interact much with Weavers outside of trade, so they’re not being actively exploited—but non-Company-affiliated human residents (which are something of a mystery in themselves) tend to be denied opportunities to succeed in the same way Company transplants do, in a way that ensures John’s own earnings stay high, and also contributes to one of the many complex conflicts bubbling under the surface of this generally quiet world. The company’s reasoning isn’t nefarious so much as practical, but it is a situation that makes someone with John’s moral character take a step back and say, “There has to be a solution where all parties can benefit without harming each other”—and then use the resources at his disposal to seek it out when all the conflicts threaten to bubble into actual violence.

John Abbott is very much a character who doesn’t want to be a hero, but sees when things need to be done and takes it upon himself to do them. That he does so while struggling with the complex morality of it makes him an even stronger character, and frankly one I’d like to see more of in fiction in general.

All this to say, Abbott in Darkness is a refreshingly grounded tale of a common family facing the worst on a planet far from home, and rising to the occasion. It’s a must-read for fans of reluctant heroes in extraordinary situations.

Into the Real – Book Review

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I’ve been looking forward to this book since the moment I heard it described as Pokemon Go meets Monster Hunter—and by the standards both properties inspire in my brain, it does not disappoint. 😄

Into the Real Book Cover

In John Ringo and Lydia Sherrer’s Into the Real, Lynn Raven is a shy couch potato of a teen who would rather stay home and play WarMonger 2050 than go be around people. Even her narrow circle of IRL gaming friends—all guys—are generally unappealing, because the alpha nerd of the group is of the “girls can’t play video games” variety and would become insufferable if he knew the truth of her gaming hobby. See, through the power of near-future voice modification technology, a lot of intense forum research, and a lot of practice, she moonlights as the grizzled military veteran Larry Coughlin, an absolute legend in WarMonger’s multiplayer circles, a well-paid in-game mercenary-for-hire, and most importantly, routine kicker of Ronnie’s in-game butt.

So legendary is she as Larry Coughlin that, when Tsunami Entertainment rolls out the invite-only beta for its upcoming augmented reality game, TransDimensional Hunter, she’s invited by the head of the company himself to test this new game. It’s a tremendous honor and testament to her skill … but stepping outside her home, into the real, to conspicuously play this highly-anticipated game means she risks revealing her online identity. It also means she’ll have to deal with, eew, people.

But it also presents an avenue for her to earn more real-world money through gaming, and things haven’t been easy for her and her mother since the death of her police officer father. So Lynn takes on the opportunity—and with it, the challenges of navigating adolescence, competitive gamer boys, savage popular girls … and maybe something even bigger than that.

In recent years, I’ve become a huge fan of the LitRPG/GameLit genre (obviously, since I now write in it), and while Into the Real lacks some of the more iconic qualities associated with indie LitRPG (detailed stat blocks, for example), it’s entirely worth a read for LitRPG fans, especially those looking for something a little more complex than the usual power-fantasy adventure that dominates the genre.

Into the Real stands out for many reasons. The most conspicuous one for me was that it not only follows a female main character—uncommon in LitRPG—but that it depicts the specific experience of being a female gamer in a male-dominated competitive hobby, while also exploring the challenges inherent in simply being a teenager.

There is a definite power fantasy element—Lynn’s masquerading as Larry Coughlin can’t be anything but—but in a clever subversion of the trope, it’s also presented as the mask she wears to cope with her very teenage insecurities. She’s self-conscious about her body and about being a girl gamer amidst a bunch of immature boys, while potentially having a crush on one of those boys. She also has to deal with socially vicious popular girls, even on the gaming front, when the local rich queen bee (and popular streamer) has her father pull some strings to get her into the closed beta-test for TD Hunter … and proceeds to harass Lynn in the process (sometimes violently). Larry Coughlin and WarMonger 2050 are the shields she hides behind when being Lynn Raven becomes too unpleasant—but in playing TD Hunter, she can only be Lynn Raven, and participation in the game itself forces her to face those hurdles and thus grow as a person.

All this to say, while I don’t think it was necessarily written for a YA audience, this is definitely a novel that teen gamer girls in particular can relate to.

And the experience of being a gamer girl is intrinsic to the story. One of Lynn’s greatest social challenges is Ronnie, alpha nerd of her friend group and firm believer that “girls got no game.” When a high-stakes TD Hunter competition is announced—requiring four-player teams—Ronnie begrudgingly lets her fill the fourth spot on the group’s team and then, despite insisting upon being the leader, fails to give her serious consideration when forming the team’s strategies (i.e. completely fails to act like a leader). A non-gamer might look at his character and view him as a stereotype … but anyone who has ever spent time on a gamer girl forum will recognize him instantly. Discussions on these forums are overwhelmingly dominated by girls trying to find other girls to game with, and it’s largely because of the disrespect and sexist harassment they receive in chat from players like Ronnie. It’s a genuine problem in gaming culture at large and Into the Real completely nails it with this storyline. Lynn has to overcome her difficulties with Ronnie if she—and her team—are to succeed in competition, and the way the story handles it is both realistic and wholly appropriate to its coming-of-age theme.

What makes this book succeed, though, is that alongside the strong realization of its themes, it’s a whole lot of fun, and it particularly nails the unique fun of gaming culture, while also presenting a genuinely cool view of what gaming could look like in the near future.

Lynn’s is a future where augmented reality glasses are common and used in daily life even outside gaming contexts, where smart fabrics can mold to fit individual body shapes, and where games as complex as TD Hunter not only have special shape-changing peripheral controllers, but virtual AI assistants to help manage in-game data. TD Hunter itself is a game that I found myself wanting to play as I read, largely because it reminded me so strongly of some of my own favorite games. The AR component of Pokemon Go makes it an obvious comparison, and given the game’s goal, Monster Hunter feels like an obvious comparison, too … but (speaking as someone who takes days off work to play new Monster Hunter games), it’s also wholly appropriate. TD Hunter is a game that understands the pleasure of tracking and discovering new monsters, gathering new data on them with each encounter, and heck, gathering loot in general. For that matter, it’s also not inaccurate to compare it to Larry Correia’s Monster Hunter International series, given that modern-style weaponry is used in the game (and that there’s at least one MHI easter egg for sharp-eyed readers).

Also notable is how seriously the novel takes the physical aspect of the game. Lynn’s mom is a medical professional, and there are moments where she delivers advice that made me go, “Oh, one of those authors definitely played ridiculous amounts of Pokemon Go” (I say as I look at my own dedicated gaming bag of sunscreen, bottled waters, emergency protein snacks, and UV-blocking clothes). TD Hunter, of course, is on a whole other physical level, requiring players to jump around and physically exert themselves as if fighting real monsters, and while Lynn’s mom is cautious about the general safety of Lynn’s endeavor, she’s also refreshingly supportive and offers detailed dietary and general health information to enable her daughter to succeed without overwhelming her body. It’s a nice realistic detail in a genre that usually doesn’t pay attention to such mundane details. (Plus, it’s also great to see a parent in a teen-led story who isn’t an absolute idiot.)

The only place where Into the Real slips for me is the literal last set of paragraphs. These include a twist that sharp-eyed readers will see coming, and serve more to set up the next book in the series, rather than contributing anything significant to this one—but then, ultimately this first novel is about Lynn’s personal struggle, more so than the coming wider struggle that’s implied in the twist. Taking that into account, the book becomes a strong setup for what is sure to be a unique, fun series.

Ultimately, the thing that stands out most about Into the Real?

Many books about gaming get me so pumped to game that I stop mid-read to do just that—but Into the Real was so hypnotic I couldn’t bring myself to put it down, despite wanting to boot up my console for some Monster Hunter every other page. (And y’all know how I feel about Monster Hunter.) That said, it’s a must-read for gamers, but also for anyone who wants a fun, smart story about a shy teen finding her way through an exciting technological future.

By the Grace of the Gods, Vol. 1 – Book Review

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Sometimes you find a book that, against all odds, ends up being a surprise favorite. For me, By the Grace of the Gods, Volume 1 by Roy is one of those books.

By the Grace of the Gods Book Cover

The novel starts out as a standard isekai/reborn-in-another-world story, with the main character dying and appearing before the gods of a fantasy world, who determine where he’ll be placed in his afterlife. The thing that sets this character, Ryoma, apart from others, is that when he learns he’s died, he’s pretty chill about it. His response is essentially, “Welp, I’m a 40-year-old Japanese salaryman and even younger coworkers have died from the stress of our job, so honestly I’m just glad I made it this long.”

To which the gods say, “OMG That’s sad. We’re going to give you a good life.”

Ryoma is thus reincarnated as a 10-year-old boy who lives out in the woods away from all human contact and just spends his time chilling and researching slime monsters. When he finally does encounter people – by accident – they’re good people, and they take him to the city, where he finds that, by the standards of this world, his slime research is actually pretty revolutionary, such that he’s able to use it to save the city from a pandemic!

The storytelling is very relaxed; even the climax where he saves the city is hilariously chill. There’s no anime-style action here. Ryoma literally realizes the presence of a potential disease by noticing that the disease resistance of his cleaning slimes has risen – a consequence of exposure and adaptation – and saves the city from that illness by using his slimes to clean the public toilets where it’s thriving.

Yes, the whole climax of the book is “Main character cleans toilets.”

And yet, the utter chillness of his book is what makes it so appealing. This was my nighttime before-bed read, and the leisurely pace of the plot and charming positivity of the characters made it one of the most stress-relieving books I’ve ever read.

It’s also absolutely wholesome. General kindness of the entire cast aside, there’s not even a hint of a scantily clad character or sexy thought (in contrast to most other light novels), which makes it a safe recommendation for preteens and younger.

Finally, for those who enjoy LitRPG and stats, its stat system is simple and easy to keep up with, and Ryoma’s slime research is truly interesting to read about. (Different slimes serve different functions, and he uses them to interesting effect.)

All in all, By the Grace of the Gods, Volume 1 is a delightful surprise of a novel, and I recommend it highly to anyone looking for an easy, relaxing read.

Library of the Sapphire Wind – Book Review

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There’s a meme that occasionally graces my social media feeds, lamenting that so many fictional heroes are unqualified teenagers, wishing for a story that follows an old grandma with the benefit of experience on her side.

Jane Lindskold’s Library of the Sapphire Wind has become the book I recommend whenever I see this meme.

Library of the Sapphire Wind Book Cover

In Library of the Sapphire Wind, Meg, Peg, and Teg are three ladies of retirement age and the only people in attendance at a book club when, suddenly, they find themselves transported to another world—summoned by three precocious youths who were hoping for mentors from their own world to help with various weighty problems. The three book clubbers, however, are the first humans this animal-headed trio has ever seen, and they’re not sure what to make of them.

However, Meg, Peg, and Teg are also three ladies with useful experience of their own, and they reason that, since they’ve been summoned to an alternate magical world to help solve a problem, they might as well see what they can do.

After all, it’s more exciting than regular retirement could ever be.

And as a former librarian, a semi-retired archaeologist, and a dedicated parent and grandparent to generations of children, they might be more qualified than even they realize, especially when the magic of the summons points them toward the isolated, destroyed ruin of the titular Library of the Sapphire Wind—along with the young summoners they have to manage on the way.

I can’t gush enough about this book, y’all.

I knew I was going to like it from page one because, let’s face it, librarians, archaeologists, and cool grandmas make for great characters in any type of story—but then the mini talking carrier pterodactyl showed up, and then a discussion of the magical translation linguistics of the world of “Over Where” (as the main characters dub it), and I’m a sucker for linguistics and pterodactyls, too.

My personal reading preferences aside, though, this is a more complex book than I expected it to be.

The animal-head motif that defines the residents of Over Where makes the book seem like it’s going to be a fun storybook adventure—and it definitely is a fun adventure—but fox-headed Vereez, stag-headed Grunwold, and lion-headed Xerak all have reasons for summoning aid that are darker and more complicated than the book’s colorful cover would suggest.

And while this tale told from the viewpoint of these three would likely present them as the heroes of their own stories, the tale as told by Meg, Peg, and Teg is one of how these characters need to mature, and how the three help them do so along the way. Which isn’t to say that Vereez, Grunwold, and Xerak are children in the conventional sense—Over Where has a different understanding of such rites of passage, where adulthood is not reached at a specific age but by the acquisition of a mature state of mind. Thematically, this raises the question of what it even means to be an adult, with each maturing character yielding a different answer, and often expressing maturity that is surprising for their relative ages. (When one young character speaks of a complicated romantic association, it’s to say, “There’s good in him. I’m just not sure it’s good for me.”)

It’s as much a tale of adventure as it is a tale of three mentors helping three adolescents grow up, and taking their jobs very seriously. There’s also a not-so-subtle jab at famous fantasy mentors like Dumbledore who send young protagonists off to do dangerous world-saving things without giving them useful guidance, such that I wonder if the book wasn’t entirely written as a reaction to such mentors.

That doesn’t mean it’s a book one reads for its Important Themes, though. Library of the Sapphire Wind is ultimately a book of complex, thoughtful points wrapped up in an adventure that is just plain fun. There are plenty of exotic locations for the main characters to explore; the Library itself is as cool as one would expect a magical library to be (complete with its own sentient, incorporeal guardian, from which it draws its name); and the variety of monsters the characters face as they travel to and excavate the library are as enthralling as any that ever captured young imaginations in children’s stories (Mine, at least; I’m a sucker for monsters, too).

The depth to which the worldbuilding goes is hypnotic, as well. Much is made of the summoning spell’s translation magic and how the characters must adapt—and thus learn more about each other’s worlds—when the magic doesn’t know how to translate specific words or concepts. There are also plenty of wonderful background details that don’t necessarily contribute anything to the story (yet—there’s a sequel, Aurora Borealis Bridge) but still serve to flesh out the world of Over Where as a living, breathing character of its own. One of my favorite such details was the setting’s concept of reincarnation: Over Where is a world where reincarnation is such an accepted (and proven) occurrence that it exists casually in the background, and though there are different subdivisions of the related belief system that disagree over some specifics, the concept in this setting is also wholly separate from theology. (“What do gods have to do with it? Gods are for crops, moral guidance, explaining how things got started, stuff like that,” as one character says.) It doesn’t affect the story at all that much except to explain why one character lives in a necropolis community (which exists because of those subdivisions trying to influence reincarnation through the treatment of interred bodies), but it’s still a really cool look into the spiritual and physical logic of the world.

Though, perhaps, given the age of the main characters, reflections on mortality are not wholly out of place—especially when one considers other inevitable effects of age, and in turn how those affect the storytelling.

Though Library of the Sapphire Wind is ultimately an interesting fantasy adventure, it’s not a rollicking quest to beat a conspicuous bad guy in a Hollywood-style castle-crashing battle (though the characters do see their fair share of dangerous encounters and action scenes). Meg, Peg, and Teg are not reckless, daring heroes who barge into danger without thinking. Age and experience has made them careful and sensible (if sometimes to the chagrin of their young companions), and the novel flows at a calm, fluid pace that reflects that sense of care. And yet it’s never boring, but rather appreciative, introspective, and always enjoying the ride—and encouraging its readers to do so as well.

Library of the Sapphire Wind is easily one of my new favorite books. It expertly balances the thoughtful maturity of its older protagonists with the eager energies of its young ones. Combine that with its infectious sense of wonder, and it becomes something the fantasy world needs more of.

The Story of Edie Skye

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Edie Skye Banner

OK y’all, it’s time for the epic story of how this whole Titan Mage thing happened, so buckle up and grab some popcorn:

It begins in 2020.

One of my jobs as writer/author wife/handler/marketer/general awesome person is to research keywords for our books’ Amazon ads. One of the places I look for keyword ideas is the also-boughts on our books, and for some reason, the also-boughts of Jacob’s anime-inspired giant mech series, Seraphim Revival, were loaded with … harem books.

The Seraphim Revival is perhaps the least spicy thing either of us has ever written, so naturally I was curious and started looking into the featured titles.

Which is when Jacob walked into my office and saw my computer screen full of booby book covers.

I joked, “We’re writing the wrong books, Jacob.”

Jacob joked, “You should write a harem novel.”

I joked, “You write the outline and design the babes and I’ll do it.”

I neglected to realize that Jacob was between projects at the time.

It was also the beginning of lockdown. Which meant he was at home. With free time.

And Jacob’s brain is not one to sit idle.

Which is why he came to me later with 5 outlines for a complete series of harem novels, complete with a sci-fi-inspired elemental magic system, a mech upgrade system, character details for the main cast, and the first few chapters, just because.

***

There’s slightly more to it than that, though. Y’all know I struggle with OCD (and it’s the primary reason why my writing/writing process is often so chaotic).

We didn’t know it was OCD in early 2020, but we did know there was a problem – manifesting heavily in my inability to write consistently, among other more practical problems – and one of Jacob’s suggested solutions to help me over this hump was for him to outline a project and oversee details of the world, and me to do the actual writing.

One of my greatest challenges pre-OCD diagnosis was simply managing the complex details/consistency of my own world in The Wizard’s Circus (the sequel to The Wizard’s Way, still in progress). This way – with Jacob in charge of the basic foundation – if I had a question about the world, I could just ask him for the answer instead of trying to make up one and thus accidentally overcomplicate things.

I resisted the idea, partly because it felt like admitting defeat – that I couldn’t write a book on my own – and partly because we didn’t really have a concept that we wanted to collaborate on at the time.

Until I was formally diagnosed with OCD in late 2020.

Being able to put a name to the monster I faced changed how I approached the monster. I now had a specific lens through which to analyse my problem and as a result could pinpoint how it was manifesting in my writing, and how to fix it.

At the time, The Wizard’s Circus was a hot mess and I didn’t have the skills to address all its flaws. So I decided to rebuild my writing techniques and style from the ground up, keeping my OCD tendencies in mind and playing to my strengths. The result was Monster Punk Horizon.

However, around that time, Jacob and I also remembered his earlier suggestion – that he outline something for me to write. MPH was already well on its way by that point – and my confidence in my own writing back up, since it was wholly of my own imagination – and so I was more open to writing something that had already been laid out by someone else.

Plus there was something totally hilarious about collaborating with my husband on a harem novel.

And the sheer ridiculousness of that situation unlocked something inside my brain while I was writing it. The first draft of Titan Mage was done in less than a month, and it required very little editing from Jacob.

It showed me that, despite my years of struggling to finish a book, I had it in me to write quickly, and well.

Titan Mage, then, sure, started as a joke.

But it – and Jacob’s help through it – also played a pivotal role in helping me wrangle the monster that is my OCD.

So in a way, it’s also a strange little love letter. ☺️

H.P. has a new bestseller (on a spicy new pen name)!

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Well, that was a pleasant surprise! 😮

One of my recent background projects has been working on books under a new pen name – new because the content in those books is quite a bit 🌶️ spicier 🌶️ than my usual stuff, and I didn’t want YA readers who found me through The Wizard’s Way to be surprised by content that they weren’t ready to encounter.

I didn’t advertise the first one much at all outside of my personal Facebook page (intending to do so once more books in the series were out) …

… So you can imagine my surprise when the book rocketed to #1 on Amazon’s Steampunk Fiction bestseller list, lurked in the Top 10 on two other bestseller lists … and has been doing so since the book’s release 2 weeks ago. 😮😮😮

That said, if you’re into giant mechs, mages, and harem fantasy adventures, now’s the perfect time to check out Titan Mage, under my pen name Edie Skye!

Titan Mage Book Cover

Magic powers? His own mech? A whole airship of gorgeous women desperate for his genes? Yes, please!

Paralyzed by a drunk driver, let go from his job, and stuck in a sad, stagnant town in the middle of nowhere, Joseph Locke was having the worst day of his life.

And then he died.

But considering that he wakes up with a brand new body, in the cockpit of a badass steampunk robot, on an airship of nothing but hot babes, his next life may not be all that bad. Especially when he learns that he’s a void mage—the rarest and most powerful of all mages on the world of Haven. And his shipmates want to help him make more.

As if that weren’t enough, they offer Locke a job piloting one of their mechs, which they call Titans. In the meantime, Locke has to learn his way around this exciting world, all while coming to grips with his new—and dangerous—occupation. Will he be able to master his Titan? How can he best upgrade the machine to become as badass as possible? Why’s a strange parasitic sludge falling from the sky? And what’s up with the ghost of a space witch living in his Titan—and inside his head?

WARNING: Titan Mage is a fun fantasy adventure containing steam both punk and smutty: raunchy sausage-obsessed mechanics, lusty airship captains, prurient mech pilots, and saucy language to match. (So don’t read it and then complain about the spice. Y’all know exactly what you’re getting into.)

Download Titan Mage Here

From here on, updates about the series will be posted over on the Edie Skye webpage, so be sure to check it out if this is your jam. You can also follow me on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok!

And, most importantly, you can join my newsletter for direct updates when new titles release – and get a free novella for signing up! 😀

Sign Up for the Edie Skye Newsletter Here

Reviews and ratings thus far have been spectacular, and I hope you’ll enjoy it just as much as my new readers! 😄