Destiny's Fall Update!

Things are trucking along for the various Destiny's Fall launches!

First off, most exciting news, the book is available for purchase on my publisher's website!  Woo!!!  Ebook lovers can pick up their copy for 2.99, and the print copy is 19.99. (Or you can come to a book launch because they're awesome fun!)  It'll be popping up on other sites soon, but this is the first one and so must be celebrated.

In other news, I'm informed the Toronto book launch at Ad Astra will take place in the Event Space, not the Con Suit.  Still at 8:30 pm. Check out the awesome posters made by the lovely and talented JM Frey:

The Winnipeg event at McNally Robinson book launch now has an event listing with all the info, and I'm chatting with the Keycon crew to figure out details for the launch there.

Meanwhile, back in Ottawa, my mom, Roomy and I went to check out the space at the Lieutenant's Pump, and it's absolutely lovely. We then decided to sample the fares to ensure it was awesome enough for our party, and it was quite lovely.  Kerri tried a hamburger, I had a roast beef sandwich, and mom tried a vegetarian option. Trust me, if you come for food, you'll love it. If you don't wanna come for food, come for a book!  You'll love that, too. Even more!

So there you have it - it's all coming together!

As a treat, here's an excerpt from Destiny's Fall:

“Cap’ain!” Avienne's second-in-command, a short man named Larod, screamed.

“Gun the engines, get us out!”

“Solariers are telling us to stand down,” said Jaru, her systems analyst.

“And I’m saying the docks need redecorating. Gun the engines!”

The two moved quickly to obey her order. The engines churned to life, the scent of rotten cabbage pumping through the entire ship. The ship jerked once and the engine popped, and her hull vibrated, resonating in Avienne’s skull.

“Come on, you useless piece of crap!” She kicked the tactical controls and half the panel lights blinked out.

“Blood and bones, I need to steal a better ship!” The engines sputtered and the ship stopped vibrating.

“Engines online, Captain!” Jaru screamed. Avienne whooped and switched the viewport on. The entire metal structure of the docks buckled as they pulled free without first de-clamping, ripping great chunks of metal. The Dessicate’s engines kicked in full blast, throwing Avienne back into her seat. The docks swayed for a moment when the engine’s jet of hot hair struck them, then buckled sideways, and seemed to be righting themselves before suddenly collapsing in a heap of smoke and metal, dragging a few of the smaller ships down.

Avienne hissed. That made a nice, round ten worlds on which she would no longer be welcome. She was running out of planets to do business on.

“Where to, Captain?” Larod asked from navigations.

“Mirial. I believe it’s time to pay my brother a visit.”

It's okay to...

Scream.

Scream because you're angry, frustrated, poor, sad or just damn lonely. Scream because you don't know where you're going, what you're doing, why you're doing any of it and why it's worth doing. Scream it out. Talk about it. Tell a friend. It's okay not to be okay.

Cry.

Having a rough day? Parent sick, pet destroyed favourite collectible, sick of people not listening? Heck, have a good cry. Curl up in a little ball and let it out. Don't forget the tissue.

Speak up.

Someone take advantage of you, bully you, degrade you, made you sound like an idiot? The system's taking advantage of you? That credit card charge wasn't yours to begin with or that product was faulty?  Speak up.

Or don't.

Don't scream. Don't cry. Don't speak up. Hide in your room, in the dark, even, watch silent films from the 1920s and imagine the world always ends with the pirate being redeemed and the lovely maiden being lovely. That's okay, too. But make sure you're okay with it.

Laugh.

It's funny? Laugh. Laugh alone in your house, with your windows open and nearby neighbours wondering if you've gone insane. Laugh because it hurts, laugh because it's frustrating, laugh until your cheeks hurt, while tears escape. Laugh because it's infectious.

Say thank you.

And how are you. And ask the person on the bench why they're crying, and if you can listen for a moment. Say you're welcome, say you're sorry. Don't assume anyone knows that you imply those things. Leave a tip at your favourite coffee house.

Say I love you.

Because, again, never assume people know. Never assume they'll be there tomorrow.  Never assume you'll be there tomorrow.

Say no.

You don't need to go to that fundraiser, that family event, that random poetry reading. You don't, seriously. The time you're given is yours, and it's yours to do with as you will.

Say yes.

Take that chance. Go bunjee jumping. Hold hands in the rain and kiss under a full moon. Say yes to success and failure, and embrace them both. Get familiar with them. They'll be with you for your entire journey, after all.

Trust.

Trust in God or nothing. Trust in yourself or others, trust in no one. But know who you trust and distrust, and who you can count on. Make sure you're on that list of who you can trust. If not, make a point of being on it by next year.

Live.

Just live, damn it. Live, because it's beautiful and ugly and scary and elating and everything.  Live, because you're smart enough to understand that life, every life, ends. And you just don't know when yours will.

"Fake it 'til you make it."

That's one piece of advice everyone hears at least once, especially in the arts.  It seems to suggest that if you just fake it, you'll make it.

Let's try instead: Keep trying 'til you make it.  Or again, Keep getting better 'til you make it.  Be confident 'til you make it, or Don't lose hope 'til you make it.  Or even, Drink coffee 'til you make it. (Drink too much at once and you might make it to the moon...)

Any of those are better. Because it's sad to spend a lifetime faking something when you might never make it. Mind you, it also depends on your definition of "making it..."

I know it's hard.  It often feels like faking it. Getting in front of people, trying to sell something as taste-driven as books or art, getting bad reviews, and so on, so forth. But that doesn't mean you have to fake it.  Heck, look at where you've been.  Look at where you are now, and how you got there. You're awesome as you are.  Fake it, and you're denying your existing coolness to replace it with a fake coolness.  And that is simply not cool.  Trust me. Deal with your current awesome and work at levelling it up if you want.

But don't fake it.  You deserve better than that from yourself.

Note: I also want to say something along the lines of "fakers are usually found out," but all that keeps popping into my little mind are weird orgasm analogies.  Don't worry, I'll spare you. I'll just continue giggling like a Twilight Fan staring at her Edward glow-in-the-dark decal above her bed... ah, that thought scared away the giggles. Ah well. 

Book Launches!

Destiny's Fall is on the way!  I'm really excited about this book, and had fun returning to the world of Layela, Ardin, Avienne and The Destiny.  

I have confirmation on a bunch of launches.  I might have a few more later, but here are some details:

Toronto

Ad Astra

Saturday, April 14, 8:30 pm

Con Suite

Launching jointly with Dragon Moon Press author Leah Peterson, and her debut novel Fighting Gravity

Ottawa

Thursday, April 19, 5 pm - 9 pm

Lieutenant's Pump

(361 Elgin Street)

Winnipeg

Thursday, May 17, 7:30 pm

McNally Robinson Booksellers

We'll do something at Keycon, too. Details TBA.

ABOUT DESTINY'S FALL

Cover not final. But ain't it pretty?

A broken tradition. A hunted child. A rebellion that threatens to topple the very fabric of the universe. 

When Layela Delamores gives birth to her first child, the ether immediately rejects what should be its only heir. A wave of destruction sweeps the ether races and sparks Solaria’s ire and rebellion on Mirial. A new heir rises to take the throne of Mirial, one who wields tainted ether.

Unable to access the flow of ether, Layela is left with little choice but to flee Mirial, seeking answers that may no longer exist, prepared to pay whatever the cost to free herself and her daughter from the clutches of the First Star.

Why

New Story: The Buried Moon

Tyche Books, a new Canadian publisher, launched its inaugural anthology yesterday, Ride the Moon.  I'm happy to say that I have a story in it, The Buried Moon.

The inspiration for this story comes from an old English fairy tale I heard at a storytelling show.  It's a pretty awesome story with monsters, live burials and a desperate rescue - look for The Buried Moon or The Dead Moon and you'll find a bunch of versions of it.

My story takes place long after the original fairy tale, when descendants of the moon are still being hunted by the bog creatures.  One reviewer said: "Marie Bilodeau has a chilling and exciting tale Buried Moon, bringing out the darkness in rural communities."  There you go.  Right from someone else's mouth.

It's a lovely anthology with great cover art, and has stories in it by a bunch of fine writers, including Claude Lalumière and Edward Willett. Pick up your electronic or print copy.