New Website, Debut Novel, and the Loneliness of Creating

For so long, I hoped to one day say, ‘my novel comes out this year.’ And now I get to, because…

My debut novel comes out this year.

My YA fantasy novel The Space Between You and Me releases in print and ebook on November 14th with Amazon and other major retailers. You can preorder the ebook now!

Here’s the cover made by real live cover designer Andrew Davis (no relation) who has designed covers of other books on real live best seller lists

So what’s my book about?

Well, it’s about magic, coming of age, family, and best friends finding love in a world that wants to tear them apart.

Since kissing his best friend and setting fire to their friendship, Apollo has been slumming it with the outliers of his magical community.

Jonah has determinedly not been thinking about his ex-best friend and the kiss they shared. But it’s impossible to forget said ex-best friend when he is also your Kindred.

Though their magic only stirs to life when they touch, Jonah and Apollo would be separated for the safety of the community if anyone found out they were Kindred.

When they uncover a plot targeting the orphaned members of their clan for experimentation, they must decide: Keep their secret and stay together or sacrifice their bond to save their clan?

It is my sincere hope that this magical book evokes best friend and first crush nostalgia against the backdrop of a neon-colored night, all tinged with the unsettling threat of an enemy that reminds you of how you felt watching Stranger Things for the first time.

Publishing this novel had been an idea marinating in my brain after a friend who read it asked if I wanted to write anything for a queer book box project she was working on. While out sick from work last year, I finally decided to take the plunge. Turns out having an additional eight hours free per day gives one time to think about all kinds of other facets of one’s life.

Given that the indie publishing track kind of goes hand-in-hand with building your own platform, I’ve decided to buy a domain after nearly two decades of supporting my writing habit with my day job. You can visit my website, and what will be my main home base, here. I will keep this old girl alive for now, but please bookmark my new internet home. If you’re feeling extra bold, sign up for my newsletter; I give subscribers access to the first 99 pages of my upcoming novel.

After reading Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert, I’ve been thinking a lot about art. About supporting my art rather than asking it to support me. So instead of going into this with the expectation that this book will sell enough to one day hit the NY Times Bestseller list and Jimmy Fallon might want to talk to me (Who am I kidding? I could NEVER go on a talk show. Instead of fantasizing about interviews or awards ceremonies, I fantasize about how I’m going to duck out of them Cormac McCarthy style), I will focus on building the biodome for my book to fly in and hopefully land with someone.

But the process of creation is weird. You make yourself completely vulnerable by putting an entire novel carved from your heart into a public space, all with the fervent hope that it resonates with someone else. When people refer to the loneliness of any creative art, I don’t think they’re talking about the actual creating; sure, you are alone, but one is rarely lonely in the company of stories and art. I think people are actually referring to the years spent honing your craft, performing the admin that sucks up all your time to be creative, continuously looking at the creation from every angle until you’re sick of looking at it and then, still, sharpening it further, being the sole proponent of your work, screaming on a hill and hoping someone hears you while you spiral in a fomo-hazed depression, eating bag after bag of Tapatio Doritos while watching other authors find success. That’s the lonely part.

I’m currently in the thick of that part, in case you haven’t gathered that. Here’s the call to action, ya’ll. Indie authors usually don’t have the backing that publishing houses can provide, so people spreading the word is the #1 way our work can find its way into the hands of readers. This has all been done out of my love of what I do (read: my own pocket), so here I am, just a girl, standing in front of you, asking you to love me (and link bombing you).

Interested in my book and ready to take action?

Preorder The Space Between You and Me

Add The Space Between You and Me to Goodreads

Sign up to be considered for an ARC of The Space Between You and Me

Need to know more first?

(I feel like this could double as a personality test…)

Check out my story board on Pinterest

Check out my novel’s playlist on Spotify

Check out my website

Follow me on Amazon

So there’s the haps. Thank you to everyone reading–new followers, old followers, random lurkers–for following me on this journey. I hope you will meet me at my next stop.

“Specimen”

February is Women in Horror Month (recently changed to March). My love for the horror genre goes way back, before I began voraciously reading. It likely developed the moment my parents told me to go back in my room as they sat down to watch Poltergeist. Instead, I did what any curious and rebellious six-year-old would: I snuck out, crawling on all fours, and watched Poltergeist, terrified from behind my dad’s recliner. Though I couldn’t sleep for a week after, I was addicted.

In a lovely bit of astrological alignment, my horror story “Specimen” came out in Trembling with Fear today. You can read it for free here. This is massive and deliciously circular to me because I remember when I was a wee babe of writing and putting my short, horror work out there, Trembling with Fear was one of the first venues I came across. It is such an honor to be included.

Here is how Editor Stephanie Ellis introduces it:

“First up this week is Specimen by Ashley B. Davis, a hauntingly atmospheric story of an abandoned naturalist on an island uninhabited by humans. His obsession with the specimens he is observing is gradually changed, roles reversing as he struggles to survive.”

Trembling with Fear

Looking for more ways to celebrate women in horror this month? Of course you are! You can read and listen to my other work by visiting my Published Works page, but here’s a quick rundown of my most recent publications. You can listen to me reading my poem “Time Consuming” at Liquid Imagination or listen to a full-blown audio production of my story “Feud” at The Grey Rooms 😱 (my story starts at 19:54). I also spoke (awkwardly) at length about my story and the horror genre with the inimitable Brooks Bigley at The Grey Rooms Podcast in my Behind the Door interview. Lastly, if you enjoyed the naturalist protagonist in “Specimen”, you can read about another scientific-minded protagonist in my story “The Wake” at Jamais Vu.

Happy reading, listening, whatever poison you choose. May your month be full of wicked female wiles and all the horror.

The Self-Anointed Artist: My Audio-Produced Story “Feud” and First Author Interview

I have been following Amie McNee, creativity coach and book doula, on Instagram for some time. McNee encourages authors and artists to claim their creator title. The messages she writes to herself and to her followers are designed to systematically restructure our sometimes debilitating inner monologues about being a creator. Even in writing that last sentence, I had originally written “Her little messages”–McNee has taught me this is how doubt, negativity, and fear of others’ perceptions can alter and minimize the self we are striving to be.

I’ve always considered myself as someone who processes life through writing. I don’t get angry at someone and then write them into a novel to then put them through horrible trials. It’s a different kind of processing I undergo when creating art. It’s like I become a sieve, where the sand of any heavy emotion falls to the bottom and all of the bigger stuff like truth rises to the top (wait, do I know how a sieve works?). Though I’ve always instinctively resorted to this act of processing/creating, whenever I have thought of myself as ‘Artist’ or ‘Author’, I would always inwardly cringe, and I certainly never proclaimed myself aloud as such.

Years ago, I started this blog as a home for my creative works, a platform for a writer. I’ve always been more comfortable with calling myself a writer, because it so tidily sits beside reader and doodler. But to call oneself an “Author” is big. It comes with a truckload of connotation and entitled-sounding opinion, but I mentioned in an old post that declaring yourself the self you want to be by living as though you already are, is part of the becoming process. Even now, I feel resistance writing this post, worrying whether it is trite or whether it will resonate with anyone. But I couldn’t honestly share this milestone without talking about about everything I’ve had to fight against to get here.

All this to say, as soon as I changed my online presence descriptors to say “Author”, as soon as I anointed myself with that whole truckload of connotation behind it, that in and of itself didn’t make things happen for me, but it gave me the power to start opening those doors that had been there all along.

Image credit: Cassie Pertiet

Last year, I’d received the acceptance from The Grey Rooms Podcast for my most recently published work, a short horror story “Feud” (click here to listen; my story starts at 19:54). Since then, I have decided to self-publish a novel (more information on that soon!), scheduled a photoshoot for my author photo(!), and have been interviewed (listen to the interview here!) for the first time as an AUTHOR (notice I removed the quotations on that one 😏). I’m not saying that acceptance made those things happen. But my decision to proclaim myself certainly gave me the power to reach out and take what I wanted.

Writing this from the place of the final pass through of edits on upcoming debut release, where I am ripping my hair out, wondering if it’s as close to done as I thought, feels a little fraudulent, but it’s time to fly!

Let’s chat in the comments. Have you ever let yourself fall into this trap of self-denial? How did you anoint yourself?