March 26

Strength Lord – a Poem

Image by Himsan from Pixabay

Give me strength Lord, this I pray

Give me strength to make it through the day

I have doubts Lord, yes I do

I have doubts I’ll make it through

Give me strength Lord, this I pray

I’m not sure I’ll last the day

I’ve gone so far, Lord, so far away

I need my strength Lord, to make my way

Give me strength Lord, this I pray

I need strength Lord, to make it through the day.

Give me strength Lord, this I pray

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March 18

Void – A Poem

Image by James Lee from Pixabay

There is a deep black void inside of me
All I want is to escape and be free
Like tar it clings and pulls me down
Drawing me deep to make me drown
The black is alive and spreading from my core
Up my arms consuming ever more
Like a poison in my veins
It sucks away life to leave it’s stain
The fight is going out of me
Making me want to just drift in this dark sea
Let the ink come over my head
Never wake again because I am dead

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March 13

I’m so tired of being afraid…

Image by Prawny from Pixabay

I’m tired of being ruled by fear. The fear of failing. The fear of dying. The fear of not having enough money. The fear I won’t be able to pay next month’s rent. The fear of what happens next with the world in chaos all around me. The fear I’ll always be fat. The fear that I’ll always be alone. The fear of…EVERYTHING.

We live in a world filled by fear. Fear stimulated by ignorance, by an overwhelming belief that we are helpless. We feel immobile and impotent, unable to chance anything in our lives. We feel trapped. We are a nation of traumatized children scared we will never escape an abusive parent. Our fear is fed by the media and by our community online that thrives on sensationalism. Instead of sending hope and encouragement we spread more fear. And panic like a disease runs through us, showing the next generation there is no hope, no chance for escape or redemption.

I’m so tired of being afraid. I was raised fearing the Rapture, the end of days and the return of God. I was raised fearing everything because it might have been a sin. I made me afraid of my own sexuality, of other cultures and religions. My mom was a woman who lived in fear and she passed that on to us. She cloistered us close and taught us to fear the outside world, a world filled with sin and scary people. People who would mock and judge or worse lead me into sin and finally into Hell.

I’m so tired of being afraid.

It surrounds me on all sides, a gray and looming monster who whispers lies so I cannot see the truth, I can’t see past the dark to how I can move forward, to how I am SAFE right now.

The world is polluted, but we can fix it if we try. Maybe not completely, but enough for it to heal itself with time and love. There are diseases, poverty, war…but we can stop those too. If we stop listening to the lies of fear, if we pull together and take one tiny step at a time, make one positive change each day, we can chance the world. We can improve our lives. We can defeat the monster that is fear.

We can stop fear.

I’m so tired of being afraid.

So I’m going to stop feeding the monster. I’m going to stop being afraid.

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March 5

Routine of the Living Dead – A Poem

Rise again from an unmarked grave

Rising up through dirt and root

Leaf and grass

Rising up to face the night

To face the moon as she rides high

Lift my face to the moon

Scent the night

Scent the wind

My evening meal is not at hand

But I can smell her near me

Her scent is ripe and warm

With the rush of life

throbbing through her veins

Like each night before

I move away from my resting place

Moving through shadow and shade

One with the night

Ruler of the dark

I seek her out

Press my teeth

Through her flesh

Find the nectar that

Is her life

I break my fast tonight

As I have done

Countless nights before

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February 27

Shadow Self – A Poem

Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay

One side faces the sun

Embraces the light

Shows the world all it is

But where the light hits

Shadows form

Creep out, reach out

Tinging the light with dark

Slithering in to corrupt the perfect gold

He shows the world the light

Ignores the darkness there

That walks just one step behind

Waiting to embrace him

Pull him back to hide

Pull him down and show the world

He is dark and wretched inside

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February 20

Angel’s Gate – The 1st 500 Words

Angel’s Gate is only 8 months away. 8 months from now and I get to share the first of the ShadowGate with the world. 8 months….feels like a lifetime away. I know you’re anxious to finally have a chance to read Angel’s Gate, so here’s the first 500 words to hold you over for a while.

“Life wasn’t supposed to move this fast. From birth to death so quickly. It was all too fast, too…over. So many words had been left unspoken, so many questions still unasked. So many things still unresolved between them, but now…now there was no more time. One sentence…one sentence had changed her life, shattered everything. Four words, one death and everything she had worked so hard to achieve seemed worthless.

Your mother is dead.

For AG Morris those words had stolen everything.

Four words and here she stood waiting for a flight to take her back to the one place she had never wanted to return. A flight that would take her home. Home…no…no, it wasn’t home. Not now. Her mother was gone.

Around her was movement, life, sound. Laughter. There shouldn’t have been laughter. Shouldn’t the world have stopped along with her own grief? The weight inside of her seemed to expand, compressing her lungs until she felt she couldn’t breathe. The grief was so huge it should have compressed the entire world. But it didn’t. The pain was only inside of her. The loss was only inside of her.

She wished those words could be erased from her mind, that they could be taken back. That she could return to that morning when everything was alright. When it mattered that the sun was shining, that she was breathing. The words didn’t fade, they didn’t go away.

So much time had been lost, there were so many things she had meant to say. So many apologies she had meant to make. Now she would never be able to apologize for words once spoken in anger. She would never be able to close the gap they had both pretended wasn’t there. She would never be able to forgive her mother for the abnormal childhood she had lived. She would never be able to ask why. Why an intelligent woman would carve spells into the window sills to ward off demons and to bind angels. She would never know now why her mother had hated her father so much that she had never even whispered his name.

Your mother is dead.

AG closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. The waiting area near the terminal gate was over crowded. There were no open seats, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that she was sitting on the floor, shoved into a corner between a stroller with a cranky two year old and an early twenty something that smelled like weed. All she wanted was to turn back time. She would have done anything to be at home, in her own house, in her own bed, and not there. Anything.

She opened her eyes slowly, hugging her knees. She watched a pair of teenagers walk across the terminal, heads bowed over their smart phones, but she wasn’t really seeing them. She wasn’t seeing anything. She was just…waiting. Waiting for her flight and waiting to wake up from what she knew wasn’t a dream. She was just…” – Angel’s Gate by L. Becker

Coming Halloween 2020

Reserve your advance copy now!

The ShadowGate: Enter and be saved….

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February 12

World Building

Image by Yuri_B from Pixabay

The other day on Twitter I read a post about World Building. The question posed was how much is too much? Sometimes it feels that the heart of the story is overwhelmed by historical treatises and minutiae that doesn’t push the narrative forward. Sometimes you want the adventure and not a lengthy discussion of the various shades of green that make up the forest (Yes, I’m referencing the lengthy forest descriptions Tolkien inserted into the Lord of the Rings. One of my favorite stories, however there were pages I simply had to skip because it was just TOO much world building). The most fascinating world building are the hints that make the reader go, ‘ooo, I’d like to learn more’ or that make them feel there is depth and backstory, not necessarily and political and financial history of the world in which they live. Sure, that’s great you did a ton of research to your world and you have everything from legal system to folklore and pre-history of your world detailed, but readers don’t need to know the whole justice system and the history of how they were enacted unless it pushes the narrative forward. I’ve taken Social Sciences and sat through lectures on the structure of the US’s government and it WASN’T fascinating. It was learning. Yes, knowledge is great, but you’re not writing non-fiction, you’re writing fantasy, you’re offering escape.

I do a ton of world building for the ShadowGate series. Why? Because it’s fun and more importantly it is crucial for the WRITER The more in depth our knowledge of the world we are creating the more realism we can translate to the page for the reader. I spend hours working out the details but it’s for MY benefit more than it is for the readers. The reader will never know all the details, they will never know the exact Guardian Angel to Charge ratio that I spent four hours figuring out. They will however understand that a Guardian has the ability to be in multiple locations at once. That is a fun fact that will fascinate them, but they don’t need to know the whole process of how I came to that conclusion. The reader will only ever know the very edges of the research, history and backstory that I do. And that’s ok, why? Because sometimes too much revealed to the reader destroys the flow of the story.

I know we’re proud of the detailed histories, pre-histories, psychological profiles, etc. that we create. But don’t try to fit all of that into the story in lieu of a STORY. If you’re proud of your world and the detailed notes you’ve made on it, publish those later for the fans of your world who want a deeper look.

Do the research, but dole it out sparingly. Don’t let the world overshadow the story.

Ok, rant over until next time!

L

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February 5

Book 4 Begins…

Angel’s Gate is only months away from being released launching the ShadowGate Series. And yes, I can say series as I’ve already finished two of the consecutive books and as of Monday started on Book 4 of the series, Sanctuary. It’s really hard not to gush right now and tell you everything about ALL of the stories I’ve written so far. But I can’t spoil all your fun.  Unfortunately you’re going to have to wait until October to read the first installment. It is my hope that when you reach “The End” of Angel’s Gate you’ll be as excited as I am for the next book.

Guardian Angel was written in 2017 during a very rough period in my life and is really the birth of the series. True, I’ve told you the roots of the series started many, MANY, years ago, but Guardian Angel was where I knew it was moving into something really special. I wrote the first draft in a little over a month and for the longest time thought it was lightning in a bottle, something I would never be able to replicate ever again.  That same year I started working on what would lead to the final version of Angel’s Gate, almost 2 full years of edits and polishing until I felt it was perfect and ready for all of you to read. Though I was pretty confident in the content of Angel’s Gate and Guardian Angel I was beginning to fear I wouldn’t be able to continue the story with the next book. What if it was a fluke and something that just wasn’t meant to happen? What if I wasn’t good enough to bring into reality the idea I had? What if this was too big for me?

Then in October 2019 I started Angel Child. It started with a down and dirty hate (you fill in the blank) and just took off. There was no holding it back. Within 3 months the first draft was done and I knew this was it, the ShadowGate Series was in fact, reality. No longer did I doubt that I would be able to put this world, this HUGE story down in print. Now it was just a matter of writing the next story and the next. When I wrote “The End” on Angel Child I expected I would need a few months to reconnect, to find the next story, to find the next words that were dying to be written. It took less than a month before I had fully plotted out Sanctuary (a 12hr session behind the keyboard) and the first words hit the screen. Monday I wrote the first chapter and it feels ‘write’. This is the next story I need to tell, because this is the SAME story, it’s just the next chapter.

I’ve been dying to start this one, since this summer I’ve been getting to know the characters, letting them come to life so that I understand them and I can’t wait to bring them to life.

I can’t wait to share this world with you and I hope you’re as excited about it as I am.

Until next time,

L

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January 30

WIP Update

Image by Zoltan Matuska from Pixabay

After almost three years rewriting, editing and fine tuning ‘Angel’s Gate’ I’m done. Ok, done is a subjective term when you are a writing and the release date for the book is still a few months out. But I’m done with the BIG changes. Now any changes I make would be grammatical or formatting changes. I’ve set an official release date and ‘Angel’s Gate’ is currently available for pre-order (Reserve your copy here).

On October 31, 2020 it will be released digitally for the whole world to read, officially launching the ShadowGate series. ‘Angel’s Gate’ is the very first in the series and came into being in 2012 during a very dark place in my life. I wrote the original draft in 30 days for the NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) November challenge and didn’t really think much would come out of it. It was an interesting story, kind of took on a life of its own, yet when I typed the end on November 30, 2012 I thought that would be the last I would see of it. Oh, sure I had the vague belief that one day I’d go back and edit it, but that’s the belief I tell myself after EVERY book I write (even the bad ones). Still I set it aside and went on with my life, never realizing it would play such a big part in my future.

I never realized how big the seeds were that it planted inside of my mind. Five years later those seeds would sprout and the world of the ShadowGate was born in only a few months. A complex story that will span a series of books to tell. It was huge, it was big, and it all started with a NaNoWriMo challenge and a small idea of angels here on earth. Of course that meant that I had to go back into ‘Angel’s Gate’ and replot, rewrite and rework a 50K word story that had only an inkling of the world it had unlocked. In 2017 I began the 2nd draft which turned into an almost complete rewrite. In late 2018 I finished the rewrite taking on an additional 100K words. Which meant the rest of 2018, ALL of 2019 and the first two weeks of 2020 were spent on the 3rd draft where I murdered ALL my darlings and a 4th draft that smoothed out everything my 3rd draft did.

Now it’s done and there’s nothing left for me to do but the really hard part. MARKETING. Which all begins with the perfect cover. A cover currently in conception and creation with MOTTWRK a fantastic local artist. Once the artwork is in place you’re going to be hearing a LOT of marketing pushing you (BEGGING you) to purchase ‘Angel’s Gate’ starting October 31, 2020.

I’m very excited and I’m really scared. There’s so much happening in my world and for the first time I’ll be sending this story out into the world. Everything hinges on ‘Angel’s Gate’ , it’s the welcome ambassador for the entire world of The ShadowGate.

I can’t wait for you to read it.

Until next time,

L

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January 22

The End of Nature

Very early in the book I read a sentence that gripped my heart, “My sons may yet experience what Bill McKibben has called ‘the end of nature,’ the final sadness of a world where there is no escaping man.” (Louv 26).  It made me sad for the generations that are to follow.  It made me think back to my childhood, to playing in the hot summer sun with my brother and sisters, running barefoot through the grass while sprinklers sprayed us with crystalline drops.  Those memories, those days spent under the sun and sky, getting dirt under my nails, climbing trees, digging holes in the back yard, those were some of the most treasured of my life.  To imagine a world where children don’t do those things, they don’t dig for night crawlers to go fishing or pick sour grass to chew on or clovers to braid into headpieces, would be a dark nightmare. 

I have seen the shift that the author talks about.  I have seen it not in my own children, for I do not have any, but in the lives of my sisters children and my brothers children.  I tried to share my wonder and passion for nature with my niece when she was little, and there were times, when she was seven or eight, where she embraced our walks in nature, in feeding horses at a local ranch and picking wildflowers as they grew along the trails.  But slowly that faded away as she became enamored with her new cell phone, her MP3 player, then her iPod and now her iPhone.  She spends her free time on the couch watching reality TV, on social networks or hanging out with her friends.  She is an intelligent young woman, is socially minded and is driven to join in defending the environment.  She is a huge advocate of “going green”, and would rather we all sit in the dark than waste electricity.  She recycles, buys organic foods and stands up for her beliefs.  But she has no connection to nature.  She knows she needs to do something, she sees the world is at risk, but she doesn’t know what she is fighting for.  She knows she is missing something, why else would she be driven to be a good steward to this world.  But she has found “the end of nature” even though she fights to save it.  She hasn’t walked through the world she wants to save, neither have her friends who also fight to “save the planet”.  They want to make a difference, but they don’t even realize what they are fighting for. 

When I step out into nature, beneath the red woods at Muir Woods, along the shores of the California Coast or into the trees in the Sierras I feel I have come home to a long lost friend.  To think that my niece will never experience that, that she never had a chance to swim in a river or lake, hike the shores and collect shells.  That she may never do those things makes me grieve for her and her generation.  How can they be a part of a world they no longer know?  How can they save a world they are strangers in?  It’s not all about the “cause” or raising awareness.  It’s about experiencing and being a part of the ecosystem they are trying to save.  They may save the world and prolong the human race, but trees and plants and animals will only be pretty things on the TV or their computer screen. 

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