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“This is the story that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on, my friends. Some people started reading it, not knowing what it was, and they’ll continue reading it forever, just because…”

MrYukStickerI get it. You’re writing fanfic, natural rules do not apply, blah blah blah.

But maybe there comes a point when you need to be honest with your readers and say: “I have no idea where this is going. I’ve written myself into a corner, so here’s 100,000 words about the MCs new cat, Devilicus.”

Or how about: “This story is 20% awesome plot, dialogue, and characterization. The rest is me detailing every second of their lives in excruciating detail for no other reason than that you’re going to read it and love it. Oh, and by the way, every third ‘update’ is just a random scene apparently taken from some different story. Sorry?”

Look, I love epic fics. When I’m searching a fandom I sort by COMPLETE and WORD COUNT just to enjoy the meaty, plotty goodness of a long story.

But when your WIP fic is 700,000+ words and turns to total crap when I’m 400,000 words in? We’ve got a problem.

I feel like I’ve been tricked. Especially when your spot on characterizations go zinging off into the wilds of OOCness (out-of-character) and this thought provoking and engaging story turns into baby babbling crack.

You’re churning out a crap story, yet you expect me to keep reading it? You seriously think I’m going to praise you? Really?

There’s an epic story, then there’s “This ficcer loves their baby too much to let it go and introduces drama and surprise twists just so they don’t have to shut up.”

I’m not saying you need to study three-act structure or take a creative writing class. It’s just, dude, OUTLINE. That’s all. Even just jotting down some plot points and knowing where you’re going with it will help a lot.

And I don’t end up feeling like you killed my will to live.

~Pax

Let's Make Dumplings at Amazon

I’m currently writing the Park portions of Paradigm Shift. He’s got a different story than Gregor, his concerns obviously being very different. It’s kind of fun 🙂

EXCERPT:

Barely home a day and already sent out again, this time for a domestic reason, but just as important. He left his accustomed body armor behind and wore a soberly professional suit, his rank pinned to his collar.

“So why have I been called out?” he asked the Attache sharing the back of the car with him.

Her smile was a wide stretch of lips painted vivid red, complimenting her raptor’s eyes. He thought he caught a whiff of old blood lingering on her skin. “Your Family has shown much interest in acquiring another Third. As a mark of Command’s favor, you’ve been offered first crack at the Third discovered through the latest blood draw. You should say thank you.”

“Thank you,” he drawled, settling his hands on his knees. He’d known he’d done good work with that last mission, but he hadn’t expected to have a Third handed over to his Family. The State must be pleased with him and all he’d done to give him preliminary Courting options. Grandfather would be pleased.

“This is my stop,” she said. The car slowed and she stepped out before it had halted, slamming the door behind her.

Dylan amused himself with the image of her tumbling off the sidewalk and under the wheels of the large truck following behind them. It was an unkind wish, but he’d dealt with the Attache before and she was nothing but a mad dog. When she was let off the leash she barely differentiated friend from foe; it made him wary of her.

He picked up the case she’d left him and settled back into the seat to read. He had received a Third as a reward, he might as well find out what he could about–

Dylan opened the file and looked at the picture of the dark haired young man. A handsome face that might have looked cold if it wasn’t for the sly slant of his brows, the hint of laughter curling his lips. Staring out of the picture was a pair of expressive brown eyes, mesmerizing against the man’s rich olive skin.

–Gregor Tierney.

/EXCERPT

Title: Paradigm Shift
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm science fiction
Rating: mature
Status: WIP
Notes: This is a State Rule story. There are Judges, Law Officers, and zombies.
Warnings: genetic modification capability of mpreg, mentions of forced breeding, fascist society, post-zombie apocalypse.
Summary: Gregor has been living as a Two for most of his life, but it’s a lie. He’s really a Third. And now he’s been found out and pulled into the lives of one of the great Families.

Paradigm Shift: Master Post – Link: http://harperkingsley.livejournal.com/73938.html.

Allies & Enemies at Amazon

No, seriously, my mind is buzzing along a million miles an hour. I’m about an inch away from bouncing off the walls, yet it’s exciting and it feels good.

Mania. It’s the greatest fucking thing ever created.

Right up until it takes that downward turn and I start questioning everything I’ve ever done or ever said and I completely go off the rails. All these things I do so joyfully now, the words I scream out to the Internet and the things that I do and buy in real life … They always come back to haunt me later.

I promise things that bring me difficulty. I feel things like floating acid tripping butterflies. And at the end of the day, I have a great time either ruining or living my life.

It always feels the same either way.

Waking up with that sense that I’ve done wrong and not quite sure where I’ve misplaced my step. It sucks. I hate it. There’s nothing I can do to change it.

You don’t know what it’s like to need help so bad, but to not be able to say the words to anyone. There’s so much shame involved with any kind of mental illness. Even just using the words … mental illness … it makes my stomach crumble into knots.

There’s some days when I wake up hating everyone and everything, but when it comes down to it, it’s me that I hate. Because everything about the world I see, that’s my perception of things, the way that my brain puts it together. I am decoding messages that only I receive.

Everyone literally walks around in their own world, because each person has their own way of seeing things. So when I can look at something and all I feel is distaste, that’s my perception of things.

My idea of beauty is different and unique, as is my sense of disgust. And it all rides on what I feel at a particular time and place, the way my brain chemistry has decided to turn things. So sometimes there’s regret for the things I’ve said and didn’t say, the things I did and didn’t do, but always I’m left to deal with the consequences.

Mental illness is like being drunk all the time. Once the mood shifts, there’s nothing to block it or slow it down. When I’m angry, I’m angry. When I’m sad, I’m sad. And when I’m happy, I’m happy right up until the point I get terrified and end up hiding in the closet because everyone is out to get me.

And I write about it, and I write about it, and oh yeah, I write about it.

Even my characters that are like gods walking on Earth have problems with the way they see things or the way they react to a given situation. Or someone gets slipped some creepy drug, and having their perception of reality violently changed sends them on a bad trip. I have never written a character that is completely well-adjusted or happy in life.

Because I don’t think that perfect happiness exists. How boring would that have to be? It’s like the Matrix. When it was perfect, the human brain rejected it for a lie.

So I think the whole of humanity is a little bit crazy. It shouldn’t be something that we’re ashamed of, though it doesn’t need to be yelled from the mountain tops. It’s just a bit of mixed up chemistry.

If diet, exercise, music, and routine behavior can adjust someone’s brain to put them in a better mood and a better working order … Then it’s not something people should be stigmatized for and everyone should know that.

There’s no reason to hide away from the world, and no reason for the world to turn on someone. Mental illness is something that can easily be handled with compassion and self-knowledge.

Because knowledge is half the battle.

Uramichi Oniisan 01 at Amazon

Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature

Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.

*

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 Not being completely oblivious, he knew that something was going on. He’d spotted Sophia whispering in corners with Arthur and everything seemed very serious, but when Arthur was willing to go that far to keep him out of things, Danny knew better than to poke his nose into the mix. He trusted Arthur knew what he was doing.

So he ignored the tensions flowing around and focused on enjoying his time with Marshal.

“Are you really sure you want to do this?” Marshal asked.

Danny gave Marshal a reassuring smile. “Yes. I am absolutely sure. We are going to have fun today.” He didn’t have to mention that he was drugged to the eyebrows; Marshal had watched him take his pills before they’d left the house. He was buzzing along on a wave of synthetic serenity, feeling completely untouched by anything bad. The only thing he wasn’t enjoying was how spacey he felt, as though his head was an over-inflated balloon barely attached to the string of his neck.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” Marshal waggled the fingers of his left hand invitingly.

Danny looked at it for a long moment, the sun shining down on his head as they stood in the parking lot. There was the sound of children laughing and cheerful voices all around them. And Marshal wanted to hold his hand in public.

He licked his lower lip and reached out to take Marshal’s hand. It felt like the right decision. It made him feel safe.

The New Iblis Municipal Zoo was something that he believed in and had poured a lot of money into. Today was the grand opening of the Children’s Learning Exhibit and for the first time he had accepted an invitation to appear, though Sophia had made sure everyone involved with the event understood that he wasn’t to be singled out and he would not be making any speeches.

Danny didn’t think there would ever come a time when he would be comfortable in the spotlight. Enjoying a grand opening though, it was something he thought he could pull off as long as he wasn’t facing it alone.

“I love the zoo,” Marshal said. “None of these animals are locked up in teeny tiny cages, are they? I’ve never been to this zoo before.”

“Whoa, info dump,” Danny teased. He held out his gold leafed invitation as they approached the VIP ticket stand and were let in.

The zoo was closed to the public for this event, though his money had guaranteed that his request was accepted. Which was why the children of the Wyndstrom Home were being herded around by their minders. They looked happy to have a day out, and he’d arranged the full zoo experience for them–hotdogs, soft pretzels with drippy cheese, stuffed animals and balloons, and crates of educational books for them to take back to the orphanage.

It felt good to see the children happy and to know that he’d had a hand in it.

There was something so great about being able to give something back to the community. Starting with the most disadvantaged members. It was why he’d chosen the Wyndstrom Home as one of his pet charities. They were children in need and it didn’t exactly take a fortune to keep them in clothes and a few of the luxuries that other children took for granted.

I sound so privileged, he scoffed mentally. It was why he didn’t like to talk about his philanthropy. Thinking about the response other people would make if he were to speak his heart made him want to cringe with personal shame. He couldn’t handle it.

Here you go, Aunt Lauren. I made this for you.

What kind of crap is this? Do you honestly believe that this quality of work is going to get you anywhere in life?

No. I’m sorry.

You should be. Now go put on that outfit I got you. We’re having guests later.

Okay. I love you?

I love you too. You’re my darling boy. My smart boy. My sweet boy. My everything boy. You’re such a good boy. Will you try for me?

I try for you. I promise I do.

Will you always try for me?

I will always try for you. I’ll be such a good boy. I promise.

The best boy. So sweet. Now go get dressed. We’re having company.

Do I get some ice cream later?

If you’re a good boy.

Marshal tugged on his hand and Danny felt his mind center on the moment. “What?”

“You were spacing out there. Do you know what you want to look at first?” Marshal had a zoo map half-open in his free hand. He looked comfortable in jeans and a polo shirt, not even seeming to care that Danny was wearing the usual suit.

“You really don’t mind, do you?” Danny asked.

“Mind what?”

“Being with me.”

Marshal raised his eyebrows and pulled Danny to an out of the way stretch of sidewalk. “Why would I mind being with you?”

It felt like his cheeks were on fire. Danny ducked his chin to stare at Marshal’s broad chest. “I know I’m awkward to be around, and not just because of all the–” He swiped his thumb over his ear. “–head stuff. There’s the money angle of things and all that. You haven’t changed, you’ve stayed the same. It’s nice.”

“You’re weird.” Marshal gently nudged Danny’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go look at the tigers. Shere Khan was always my favorite.”

Danny rolled his eyes, but let himself be pulled along. His heart felt lighter than he’d known in a long time.

* * *

“Look at that smile on your face. What happened with you?” Joanna asked.

Marshal tried to control it, but the grin had a life of its own. He sank down onto his chair behind the desk. There was already a stack of folders waiting in his in-basket like a Good Morning You’re Never Catching Up With Your Paperwork No Matter What You Do Because It Will Just Keep Breeding Until The Day You Retire message. It was the kind of greeting he could gladly do without.

He took a sip of coffee and dragged the top folder off the pile. “We had a really great time yesterday. I’d forgotten how cool the zoo is.”

“So now your dates with Mr. Money involve bestiality. I’m a little concerned about you.” Joanna grinned to show she was joking.

He rolled his shoulders and uncapped his pen. “We had a lot of fun wandering around. There were a lot of kids there for the opening of the Children’s Learning Exhibit and we got to help them with craft projects. I found out Danny funds a whole orphanage.”

“What, like Professor Xavier?”

“I know, it’s crazy right? He’s Daddy Warbucks. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Probably remain cool and not turn into a Gimme-Gimme Guy. That kind of guy is a complete turd sandwich,” Joanna said.

“Oh no,” he said. “Did you join that ‘cougar life’ dating service?”

She growled and flung a highlighter at him. “Shut up. I’m not that old.”

Marshal uncapped the highlighter with a smarmy smile and nod. “Of course not.”

She huffed and crosser her arms. “So?”

At his bland look Joanna whined, “Come on, you know I live vicariously through you. How romantic was this date of yours on a scale of one to ten?”

“It was like the Lake House, but not so confusing.” Marshal shrugged.

“You have to ruin everything, don’t you? I’m a lonely woman of simple desires and you can’t even keep me in the loop of your love?” She sighed and bowed her head. “That’s so wounding.”

“Honestly, I’m happier than I’ve ever been,” Marshal said. And it was true too. “There’s just something about him that settles me right down.”

Joanna nodded knowledgeably. “It’s the soulmate principle. You two were meant for each other and somehow the moons will align and there will be surprise babies. I don’t know which one of you will get knocked up, but it will be a beautiful lifetime event.” She fluttered her lashes at him.

Marshal grimaced. “I don’t know what you’ve been reading lately, but nope.”

Joanna opened her mouth, but he got there first with a drawn out, “No-ope.”

She frowned and crossed her arms. “You ruin all my dreams,” she said, then leaned forward with a gentle smile. There weren’t quite as many sharp teeth showing and her eyes had softened. “I’m glad you’ve found someone that makes you happy,” she said.

“Thanks.” Marshal beamed at her. His chest felt full of air, a delighted pressure against his ribs. He’d never known that love felt like laughter.

“Ugh, your complete self-delight is freaking me out,” Joanna teased. “Time to get back to work.”

Marshal was skimming through folders and writing notes on a legal pad the same as she was. “Fine fine, no more details about my beautiful love affair with my handsome billionaire boyfriend.”

She groaned. “Seriously, your luck is unfair.”

“Yep.” He grinned and traded his pen for the highlighter, running it over a long, Italian name in his file. “I’m like a Lifetime movie.”

“Then you better be careful. Danger could be lurking.” She held her hands up and wiggled her fingers creepily.

“Danger-smanger. I laugh in the face of danger.”

* * *

It had been a grueling day at the office. The kind of day where the first thing Joanna had done when she reached her car was muss up her hair and thoroughly clean her face with a cleansing wipe. She might be dressed like a Fed, but she was totally off-duty for the rest of the night and nobody better call her.

She didn’t know what was happening, as everyone involved was keeping it hush-hush, but something big was going down that involved a lot of agents and a lot of man hours. Which left her, Marshal, and the other schlubs not working the case to handle everything else. They’d been buried under a pile of paperwork since after lunch.

She was tired, hungry, and she had a sneaking suspicion that she stunk from the lo-mein she’d dropped on her shirt at lunch. In all, she was glad to be home, a white paper bag of takeaway food hanging from her hand. She’d been meaning to try that health food restaurant for awhile and now felt like the perfect time.

Too much MSG and vegetable oil makes Joanna unhappy, she thought with a smirk.

The lock on her front door was sticking again and she forced it with the use of her shoulder. She needed to have another talk with the super. It wasn’t just the door giving her grief anymore. He’d also promised to fix the bathroom drain that wasn’t draining. His suggestion that she fix it herself had not won him any points.

She sighed and turned to close the door, and that was when she felt it. The sense that she wasn’t alone. It was a crawling itch in the space between her shoulder blades that made her bladder twinge. She subtly reached for her gun.

She knew it was too late before it happened. It was just this “Oh shit” realization that didn’t let her do anything.

The gunshot was a dull pop in the quiet of the apartment and the force of it flung her off her feet. Her face slammed into the nubby brown carpet and she couldn’t help thinking: That’s gonna be some road rash tomorrow.

Then the pain hit. One bullet and her whole back felt on fire. She was also pretty sure she’d peed herself.

She’d known getting shot hurt, but she’d always kind of assumed she’d be one of the lucky Rambo chicks able to power through the pain. She wasn’t.

Joanna lay on the carpet and just tried to breathe. There was a liquid gurgle sound in her chest she really didn’t like. It was hard to pull in enough air. It made her head spin dully.

All she could do was lie there as the shooter approached–dark brown pant legs and green sneakers with blindingly white laces. She tried to raise her head to see more of him, but it hurt too much to move.

Her breath gurgled out of her. She blinked and blinked and tried to remember everything she could about him. This man that had killed her.

“Pathetic,” a raspy voice whispered–it sounded like a bad Batman impression–then he kicked her in the side of the head and she felt herself starting to pass out. It was this roll of black that slid across her vision and pulled her down with it.

The last thing she heard was the click of the door shutting behind him. Her nose was filled with the scent of blood and spilled takeaway. The carpet itched beneath her cheek.

Then nothing.

* * *

The insistent discord of his current ringtone pulled Marshal out of sleep with an unhappy moan. His only relief was that Danny was completely out, his sleeping pill keeping the phone from disturbing his slumber.

“H’lo?” Marshal answered, squinting his one open eye at the alarm clock. 1:13 a.m.

Marshal, this is Crane. Joanna is at Abner General Hospital. She was shot in her apartment.”

Marshal couldn’t breathe for a moment. There was a sense of unreality. “Who did it?”

We don’t know yet, but I knew you’d want to know about Joanna. She’s in surgery now.” Kevin Crane drew in an audible breath. “I’m very sorry.”

Marshal climbed out of his bed and hurried to his closet to grab his jacket off the hook. “I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”

Don’t drive so recklessly that you cause any accidents,” Crane advised.

“I’ll try my best.” Marshal shrugged the jacket on and hurried to grab his wallet and keys off the end of the dresser. “I’ll be there soon.”

He spared Danny a glance to make sure he was still sleeping before leaving the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He figured he would call Danny in a few hours from the hospital. There was no reason to wake him any earlier than he had to.

Joanna was in surgery, but Marshal wanted to hope that it had been a simple through and through shot. He didn’t know what he was going to do if Joanna died. She was his partner and his friend. His life would be a lesser place without her in it.

* * *

Danny woke with the sense that something was wrong.

The bedroom was dark and he felt sleep hazed and a bit off from his medication, but he knew something was wrong.

The shadows in the room seemed strange somehow, but he didn’t see anything. There was a faint outline of light coming in around the drawn window curtains.

He held his breath and stayed perfectly still on the bed, listening closely for any sound. And that’s when he heard it.

Over the frightened thud of his heart there was the faint huff of a breath in the darkness.

Danny quietly freaked out, but forced himself to be careful. He slid his hand under the edge of his pillow, his fingers searching for his phone where he’d left it before going to sleep. He moved slowly and tried to pretend that he was still asleep, forcing himself to breathe deeply and evenly.

He needed the intruder to think he was still asleep. He needed to call the police. He needed to keep from panicking.

The tips of his fingers brushed the cool plastic. Then one of the larger shadows near the bed lunged at him.

Danny opened his mouth to scream, but he didn’t get the chance. A body jumped on him knees first, forcing the air out of him in a shocked wheeze. He grunted in pain as a knee nailed him in the balls, then the full-weight of the intruder pressed on his chest, forcing the breath out of his lungs.

He tried to throw the man off, but the intruder wrestled him around onto his stomach, painful pressure digging into the small of his back. He couldn’t get any leverage. Danny gagged and bucked, trying to slam his head into his intruder’s face.

There was a sharp pain stabbed into the meat of his thigh.

Danny struggled against the hands pressing his wrists against the mattress. He could feel himself weakening. His eyes stung with tears as he realized there was nothing he could do.

His head spun as whatever drug had been injected into him mixed with the remnants of his sleeping pill.

There was warm skin pressed against his cheek and hot breath next to his left ear. “Hello, pretty, are you ready to play with me?”

Danny passed out.

/CHAPTER