Real terror.

My new manuscript has been properly formatted. The new official author picture has been snapped.

Hey, baby.

Marketing plans have been laid out, more or less. And the book has been sent out to a select group of beta readers, looking for errors that Cootie or I may have missed.

It’s funny. I write horror stories, I review horror movies, I have lived a life pretty much devoted to that genre. This is one of the few times I have personally known real terror.

Bear with me. I’m making a point.

First of all, this isn’t a scary book. It’s a book about Tarot cards. You could call it a reinterpretation of the classic deck. I’ve taken each individual card, given the characters on them a back story and declared the deck to be its own little world.

I call it Tarotsphere.

It is designed to be a fun book, with some insight along the way, for those who choose to pick up on it. Mixing humor and inspiration is a difficult task, especially when you hate inspirational writing like I do.

Chicken Soup for the Soul, it ain’t.

Tarotsphere is different from anything I’ve ever written, with the exception of that weird little piece I did for our spiritual blog, where I completely made up a method of divination using armpit hair instead of the regular scrying tools (gazing balls, I Ching sticks, etc.). It got more hits than any other piece on the blog, probably because of the hairy pit pic of Amanda Fucking Palmer. Well, who wouldn’t click on that?

Amanda’s hotter’n dammit.

The book is just about ready to go. And that, dear friends, is where the terror sets in.

We’re hoping to shove the thing up onto the Kindle store in October. I’ve gotten no response from my beta team yet. I don’t know what kind of reaction I’m going to get from the worldwide neo-Pagan community, professional diviners and the like. It may cause a small controversy. It may fall to the bottom of the cauldron with nary a thud. There’s just no way to tell until Tarotsphere comes out how it will be received.

Oh, it’s terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.

It’s my first long book. It’s only a hundred pages, but that’s exponentially larger than the ten to fifteen pages I’m used to pounding out for a short story anthology. In my world, Tarotsphere is a goddamned opus. I’m proud of it. I’m kind of amazed I finished it. And I want the world to see it. I think it’s funny. I like it.

I’m biased.

And I’m scared.

This is like pushing your baby out of an airplane. I hope I packed the parachute right. I hope it lands correctly. It’s mine. I want it to do well.

But, as Mitch Easter once said, “No guarantees in the Western world.”

I hope you guys buy Tarotscope when it comes out. It will only cost you around four bucks for an e-copy. And I would really like you to drop me a line and let me know what you think. I’m easy to find. Twitter is your best bet. My contact information is around here somewhere. I like talking to people.

Until then, I’ll be watching shitty horror movies. Biting my nails. Gritting my teeth. Watching and waiting. I’ll be totally transfixed with existential terror.

And, masochistically, I’ll be enjoying every second of it.

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