How To Deal With A Negative Review (For Writers) Part I

We are told that reviews are important. Other people see reviews and decide whether or not to invest the dollar or two and take a chance on your unknown work. It has been said that Amazon doesn’t care whether the reviews are good or bad, more is better, and the more reviews your book has, the more it gets seen. Whether any of this is true, I’m not going to say. This is not meant to be an essay on the merits of reviews – any person is entitled to their opinion about anything, and the expression thereof. This is only a comment about what it’s like to be a writer on the receiving end of reviews. This is not to say I think someone should lie, and say they liked a book when they didn’t, or a book was great when it wasn’t, or that it was well-edited when there were typos on every second or third page, but there is such a thing as the golden rule and “Would I like to have someone say this about something I wrote?”. There is such a thing as recognition that the person didn’t intend to write the worst possible book they could, in fact, they intended to write the best book they knew how and if they knew of a better way to do it, they would have done so. There is such a thing as encouraging a person to improve and do better, and not killing any tendency to put anything out into the world ever again. There is such a thing as compassion and humanity, the taking into consideration that you are talking about a real, live person with feelings.

I can say from personal experience that having someone dislike your book sucks. Having someone dislike your book enough that they go and tell other people how much they dislike it is even worse. I don’t know if there are words to accurately convey what it’s like to get a really bad review on something you’ve created. Unfortunately, you’ll just have to experience that for yourself. And I hope you do. That may sound cold and cruel, but it’s not. There are a lot of people in the world, and you’re going to have to get your book out in front of all of them. Not all of them will read it, but some of them will. And some of those will not like it. And some of those will write you negative, bad, horrible, or downright shitty reviews.

If you’re looking for the one true answer to how to deal with such reviews (if you’re a writer), this may or may not be what you’re looking for. This is just one writer’s thoughts when she got her first one-star, this-is-the-single-worst-book-I-have-ever-read review, and because I felt it might be of benefit to others, I took the time to write this little post. It was not the easiest thing in the world to do, and frankly, I’d rather just forget about the whole thing, shove it under the carpet and pretend it never happened. Maybe a better way to handle it is to do  just that, quietly go on my way, and say nothing of it, and hope no one notices. But I think this is important enough to say something about, so here goes.

Not all people (and hence, not all writers) are the same. Like the song says, some people sail through their troubles and some have to live with the scars. If you’re not one of those super-confident inside and out, breeze through the world and brush aside any negative comments like the glitter to your sparkle that they are, a bad review will probably hit you in that incredibly sensitive part of you that is composed of self-doubt and uncertainty, that part that is not quite sure you’re good enough and makes sure to put in its two cents to that effect, especially when the world is offering you convincing reasons why you’re not as hot as you thought you were.

I found this review – the first negative review – for my book First Magyc very demoralizing:


Pretty bad, right? And the thought that anyone else could read it was even worse. It was rather surprising to discover how much it hurt – I never for a moment thought that everybody would love my book – but on second thought, why shouldn’t it hurt? You’ve put your time, effort, heart and soul into creating this beautiful thing that wasn’t there before, something magical, and someone has just trounced carelessly over it as though it were nothing at all. Hell, worse than nothing. I have yet to see a negative review of a book that hasn’t been written yet. It’s one thing to say “Be confident. Be thick-skinned. Don’t give a damn what anyone says or thinks.” but that can be a lot easier said than done. Even when you know that is true, and believe it with all your heart, when push comes to shove, it doesn’t matter, it still hurts, and all you want to do is lock yourself away, have a mental breakdown and never show your face again because now the whole internet knows – and worse agrees – that your book is not good enough and should not exist.  It’s a really horrible feeling, and difficult to describe. After a moment of stunned shock, in which you try to figure out if this is just a bad dream, and if not, where it all went wrong, you get around to thinking, “What do I do now?”

The list of “what do I do now?” that would be composed in the early stages of shock might look something like this:

1. Chocolate (or ice cream).
2. Cry (or rage).
3. Give up on all your hope and dreams of ever writing anything decent.
4. Call your friends and cry.
5. Have your friends bring chocolate.
6. Go into self-imposed exile, excommunicate yourself from anyone who might know you, especially anyone who knows you write.
7. More chocolate (and maybe pizza).

While that all sounded appealing, it didn’t sound particularly useful. After the initial shock and despair wore off, I did what any (more or less sensible) person would do and Googled “How to deal with a bad review for writers” (I had to add that last clause in there because Google gave me articles only regarding businesses, which I don’t see as particularly relevant or useful to my situation). I read many of the articles, but I felt something was missing, something proactive, because none of them really make me feel any better.

So, I thought it over carefully, and I came up with my own plan, and it is as follows:

Step 0 – Recognize that one of the things this world lacks more than anything else is care and compassion. This person may have made you feel about as attractive, creative, valuable and important as a smear of canine feces on the bottom of a Prada shoe with their review, but instead of getting angry or upset at them or feeling sorry for yourself, think about what Martin Luther King Jr. said: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” You don’t know what this person is going through. Maybe they’ve just been diagnosed with a terminal illness and the whole world is pretty bleak to them right now, or maybe their boss fired them and ran off with both their wife and the beautiful antique car that they painstakingly restored, and the only thing they would give a good review to is a newspaper article about said car going off a cliff. I don’t know. Maybe they’re truly just an unhappy person who can only tear people down instead of building them up. The point is, you don’t have to change just because someone doesn’t like something you’ve done, and you don’t have to feel bad just because someone else does. Two seconds before you read the review, you probably thought you had a good story, than you were writing it to the best of your ability, and you were more or less happy with the idea of having written the book. The best thing you can do for you is remain dedicated and optimistic despite the invitation to feel otherwise (and fake it ’til you make it if you have to).

Step 1 – Take a deep breath, and tell yourself that everything is going to be just fine. Look around and see the world hasn’t ended. In fact, it hasn’t even changed. No matter how much you want, at this moment, to crawl into a small dark corner and hide for the rest of eternity, that’s not going to help anything. This is your first practical experience about why people tell writers to develop thick skins – they need it. So if you’re going to be a real writer, you might as well start now. This is a good thing – and not in the reverse-psychological babble meaning of “you’re not a real artist until someone hates your work”. The world is full of people, and some of these people will like your book, some will not like it, and some won’t care one way or the other. You will have to deal with all of these people when you put your book out there. Protesting this is not going to change anything. This diagram sums it up nicely:

So your book has moved outside your comfort zone. It might be floating somewhere in the black space between your comfort zone and where the magic happens, but it’s moving in the right direction. And this is a good thing.

Step 2 – This video is the single most relevant thing you can watch as a writer (or artist) in my opinion. Watch it now, all 19 minutes and 54 seconds of it – do it, you won’t regret it.


If you find you no longer need the rest of this article, congratulations! If you’re curious about the final thing I did, please, read on.

Step 3 – One thing the articles I read suggested what you should do is go and read all the negative reviews of books that you love, or the negative reviews of best-selling books by best-selling authors. Now, I did this, but I don’t recommend that you do. Why? Because while misery loves company, and it is comforting to know that even successful writers and books get horrible reviews, it’s pointless and unproductive. Also, do you really think J. K. Rowling or Stephen King go scrolling through others authors’ bad reviews if someone gives them a this-is-the-single-worst-book-I-have-ever-read review?

Instead, I suggest the following:

  1. Do one thing that is productive and that relates directly to your writing. Outline the next chapter or write the next scene.  Make a beautiful and inspiriting aesthetic and set it as your desktop background. Do the character sketch for your Main Character or Antagonist, or that really cool Supporting Character than you’re already planning a novel for. Plug your book on Twitter, Facebook, or other social media you have.
  2. Do one thing that you have been meaning to do for a while and that you haven’t gotten around to (again, that relates to your writing – I’m not talking about laundry). That podcast episode on how to be a best-selling indie author? Go listen to it. That query letter you need to write and haven’t made the time for? Go write it. That submission for an author interview you’ve been meaning to send in? Go send it. That scene you’re avoiding writing? Go write it.  Now. No excuses.
  3. And finally, do something good, or as I like to put it, create good karma. Go read a book (or books) from authors like yourself – read them, and review them. Give them the review you’d like to receive if you had written that book. Read and review as many as it takes to make you feel good about the world. There’s one review in the world from a person obviously does not appreciate what it takes to create anything – so give the world one, two, three, four, ten that will make it better, that will lift someone up, or encourage them to continue to create the beautiful things this world so desperately needs. Whatever makes you feel good about the world.  I picked three, and you can read my reviews here, here, and here.  If you don’t like the exact method of #3, you can do whatever you like to achieve the same effect. Just be the change you want to see. Here are some great ideas. Or these ones. Or these ones – the options are limitless. If you don’t feel better after this step, start at #1 above, and repeat as necessary.

And that’s it. You will feel better, I guarantee it (unless you’re just determined to be miserable). Am I happy about my first negative review? No. Do I want to get more? Absolutely not. But I haven’t let my certainty that I am a good writer with a good story to tell die, I’m still smiling, and I’m still going to publish book number 5 in the Guardians of the Path Series (cover reveal coming soon – I’m super excited about that!). In closing, I leave you with a beautiful sentiment from my good friend Lisa Barry, a sentiment which I think is really important for all artists to keep in mind, and which helped ground me when my thoughts and emotions were doing a tornado-coaster: “For every story that is read and disliked, there are countless numbers of people standing in line who love and support that story or author.” So, don’t give up, keep calm and write on, and make good art!

If you found this helpful, pass it on, and if you have any advice of your own on the matter, please share!

❤ DragonBeck

P.S. And if you like epic fantasy, you can check out my excellent book here:

The Path is fading, and the music of Life is vanishing. Cedar and his fellow Guardians have been entrusted for centuries to protect the Path, the very force of Life itself.

An accident traps Cedar between his home and another world devoid of magyc–but not of music. He is found by Ria, a mysterious girl who holds the key to returning him home.

With little choice Cedar uses First Magyc, Blood Magyc, to save himself, and finds himself the unlikely caretaker of the very girl who might fulfill an ancient Prophecy and restore the Guardians to their former station as honored heroes.

Enchanted by Demona, a world of magyc and music, Ria struggles to understand her own growing abilities even as she is drawn into an ages old conflict.

Cedar doesn’t want Ria to be the one named in the Prophecy, but what if she is the Guardians’ only hope to defeat the Sorcerer and save Magyc?



The Hunters

My writing exercise from the last Ink Slingers meeting took a little bit of a darker turn. Enjoy!

Solitary (my word), caffeine, myther,

A solitary star glimmered in the sky for a moment, before the dark clouds
obscured it. Three figures sat, their voices a soft murmur, huddled close to the
fire, which struggled to hold its own against the wind, mythering through the
creaky boughs above. Jack hid in the shadows, shivering in the cold, aching to
join them in the warmth. The smell of hot spiced grease drifted over, with
undertones of caffeine, and made his stomach growl. He stood there for a minute
longer, but could not make himself go to the men and the promise of warmth and
shelter. He turned to go, his bare foot shifting in the leaves, and a twig
snapped. Immediately the men stopped talking, their invisible faces turned to
him, and Jack’s skin prickled. One stood, and with a swift motion, he lifted the
bow beside him and nocked an arrow. Something told Jack that if he moved, the
arrow would find its way to his heart before he could get away.
“You want to come out into the light where we can see you boy?” the archer said,
his voice slow and even. Jack stood frozen, unsure if it was more dangerous to
run, or to go the men around the fire.
Cake, endless, plank

“You’re scaring him, Plank,” one of the other men spoke up. “Why don’t you put
away the sharp killing instrument and maybe he’ll come. Hey boy,” he called to
Jack. “Come on over. The fire’s warm, and we have bacon and corn cakes if you’re
Jack was so hungry he couldn’t think straight, and his vision was going blurry.
He would’t be able to eat though, because his teeth were clamped too tightly
together, though his shivering still rattled his jaw, protesting the endless
cold. The man with the bow lowered it slowly.
“Come out, boy. We aren’t going to hurt you.”
Jack may have decided to go to the fire, but before he could act on it, the
world swam into blackness. Little by little, a sharp, pricking sensation wormed
its way into his awareness, and he realized it was warmth returning to numb
fingers and toes. Someone had built the fire up, and it danced and leaped in the
stiff breeze. Three figures sat watching him, two with their hoods up, one with
his face bared. That face was weathered, with three white scars slicing down the
left side through the thick black beard on his cheek.
“You’re lucky, boy. You weren’t two minutes away from frost bite, but you can
thank whatever gods look over you that you get to keep all your extremities.”
Jack sighed. “No gods watch over me. You should send me away now, before the
things that hunt me come for you.”


I hope to have some exciting news for you soon regarding the release date of Book #5 of the Guardians of the Path (and a cover reveal!!). In the meantime, you can enter my Goodreads giveaway for a chance to win an ebook copy of First Magyc.

Keep being awesome!!

❤ DragonBeck

A Wizard’s Eye

Hello world!

I have been very busy of late with numerous writing endeavors, which shall come to light soon, but probably not as soon as I would like. In the meantime, please enjoy the fruits of yours truly from the Ink Slingers Guild writing exercises of 31 January 2018:

Shadow, white, sunset

The sunset lit the sky in fire, and then the fire faded and died. Shevin watched the moon rise and the stars come out, sitting without moving and looking like a piece of the night itself. When he spoke, Jaden started with surprise.

“We should break camp now.”

Jaden nodded, rolled up his sleeping blanket and was on his feet in a moment. Shevin surveyed the shadows with his strange white eyes, eyes that saw more than they should.

“This way,” the wizard said.

Jaden followed him through the trees, trying to be as silent and swift, but his feet caught on roots and rocks that Shevin just glided over. Every night for the past week it had been the same, the pair traveling when other eyes weren’t watching, trying to make it to the border of the Woodlands without the Ember Guards catching them.

“I have to stop,” Jaden called out, and doubled over, gulping for air and massaging the cramp in his side. He looked up to find he was alone. “Shevin?” he called out in a soft voice, hoping the wizard had not gone too far ahead.

His only answer was the soft whisper of leaves.
Killjoy, fraction, slime,

“Shevin?” Jaden called again, a little louder this time, his heart thundering in his chest.

A figure stepped out of the darkness, but it was too short to be the wizard. It also wasn’t wearing the luminescent uniform of an Ember Guard.

“Hello?” Jaden said hesitantly, gripping the hilt of the knife in his belt.

“Oh, don’t do that,” a cheerful voice tainted with the slime of cruelty spoke up. “It wouldn’t do you any good anyway.”

“Where’s Shevin?” Jaden asked, his voice wavering slightly as he searched the shadows hoping the wizard would appear and rescue him.

“It seems your protector has deserted you,” the figure laughed. “I don’t know why you would choose to go with him anyway. He’s such a killjoy, all that duty and honor nonsense he’s so fond of spouting, and yet, when it comes to it, he runs away and leaves his charge to fend for himself. If only he truly believed but a fraction of what he said, but alas, this world is no place for saints, and eventually the darkness will reign supreme in everyone.”

“That’s not true,” Jaden said.

“Oh? And how would you know that?” The figure stepped forward and raised its hood revealing eyes like Shevin’s clear silver orbs, but rimmed in red fire.
shirk, iron, friends,

Jaden took a step back, and the figure smiled.

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Redial,” the man said and bowed low. “And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

Jaden stared at him, pressing his lips together.

“Oh, come now, how are we to be friends if I don’t know your name?” Redial said, his smile growing. “If you’re worried about the wizard, I can promise I haven’t done anything to him.”

Jaden frowned. If that was true, then where was Shevin?

Redial rolled his eyes. “Are you so enamored with him that you truly cannot believe he would shirk his duty? You don’t know him very well.”

“I know enough,” Jaden said, stepping back again.

“I wouldn’t go anywhere if I were you,” Redial continued, the redness in his eyes sparkling in a hypnotizing way. “You have no idea what’s out there.”

“What do you want with me?” Jaden asked.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Redial said. “If it makes you feel better, I want what Shevin wanted. To take you and,” he smiled slyly, “what you carry, to safety beyond the borders of the Woodlandand the reach of the Iron King.”

“And if I don’t want to go with you?” Jaden asked, drawing the knife a little further from its scabbard.

“You’ll find you won’t have much of a choice,” Redial replied.



❤ DragonBeck


Happy Valentine’s Day

Because today is as good a day as any to have love and goodness in the world, be you in the throes of true love, or preaching against the Hallmark marketing ploy, or being an angsty cynic and negating the pink hearts and sappy messages, I wish everyone the world lots of love and goodness on this Valentine’s day!

❤ DragonBeck


2018 Resolutions

The first month of 2018 is almost done, and I haven’t finished my resolutions – I hope this is not an omen for how the rest of the year is going to progress (knock on wood!).

So, in the spirit of better late than never –

and at the great risk of embarrassing myself in this spotlight I’ve created by being the only person left on the stage, I’ll go ahead and finish my ponderings and scribblings on the matter, and post them. I’m not really into the “new year, new me” philosophy. I don’t have to become someone else to be better, I just have to strive to be a better me.  In that vein, I’d like to have more balance in my life – I want to be optimistic, but realistic. I want to achieve great things, but I want to make sure the mundane gets taken care of too. So, after much thought about how I can beat 2017, here are the resolutions for 2018:

  1. Be awesome.
  2. Write a lot.
  3. Publish book #5.
  4. First draft of book #6.
  5. Read.
  6.  (more like 5.5) Read Stephen King’s On Writing.
  7. Exercise.
  8. Go to Africa.
  9. Learn to speak better Italian (and I do mean speak, not read or write).
  10. Draw or Paint more.
  11. Play my guitar.
  12. Write letters.
  13. Eat good food, drink coffee, have chocolate.
  14. Eat something unusual, that I haven’t tried before.
  15. Have a Golden Birthday.
  16. Sell lots of books.
  17. Write some awesome Stories My Friends Started.
  18. Enter (and win) a contest.
  19. Buy a mattress.
  20. Get a better phone.
  21. Focus on the real things: real friends, real communication, real happiness.
  22. Get a movie/TV series deal.
  23. Do something outside my comfort zone.
  24. Meet new people.
  25. Spend time on myself.
  26. Spend time on other people.
  27. Find something I’d lost.
  28. Give a present that really means something
  29. Do something unthinkable or ridiculous (but not dangerous or illegal).
  30. Something with dragons (for the English teachers and grammar nazis, yes I know that’s not a complete thought).
  31. Make a new friend.
  32. Be awesome (that merits saying twice).

So that’s that. That’s a pretty good list, pretty good motivation. I hope you all have a great year, and feel free to drop me a line and say hi! I’d love to know what some of your resolutions are and how they’re going so far?

❤ DragonBeck


The Man With The Wolf

I have innumerable excuse as to why this is posted over a month later than it was written. I’m not going to list them here because I can already feel the eye-rolls being directed at me. Instead, I will just say that I hope you enjoy this collection of Ink Slingers Guild writing exercises that form a neat little continuation:

blow, infatuated, streak,

Ever since she could remember, she had been infatuated with the stars. She would
sit for hours just watching the skies, with the glittering diamonds streaking
and falling. And then one day they were just gone. All of them. She went out
every night and waited for their brilliance to return, but all she had for
company was the chill wind blowing through an empty sky. The others were scared,
and set alight huge pyres to appease the gods, but the stars did not return. She
was not scared, but she was sad to lose her sparkling friends. For a long time,
she wondered where they had gone, and continued her nightly ritual though it was
a cold and lonely time without the stars. After a while, she no longer went out
every night, and then not every week. Finally, she no longer noticed the flat
black sky that was left when the sun disappeared behind the horizon, and her
childhood wonder never entered her thoughts. That all changed when the man with
the silver eyes arrived in the town, at his side a massive wolf.
candle, black, wax

She made her way down to the tavern. The streets were rapidly emptying as
everyone scurried to their homes. She adjusted the basket of bread on her
shoulder, and went through the wide doors. Warm golden light and the smell of
ale greeted her, and she relaxed. Walking up to the counter, it was several
moments before she realized someone was watching her. It was several more before
she found him, sitting in the darkest corner, his eyes glittering like gems. A
single candle flickered in front of him, the wax oozing down the sides. She was
disconcerted when she saw it writing and looping on itself to form the likeness
of a beautiful flowering vine. “Do you like my work?” a voice issued from the
shadows. She averted her eyes, and dropped into a shallow curtsy more as a
reaction rather than a gesture of any respect. “I’m sure I don’t know what you
mean, sir,” she murmured, and though she was no longer looking in his direction,
she could plainly see the wax dripping into a perfectly normal puddle in the
saucer. “I’m sure you don’t,” the voice agreed. She turned to continue to the
bar to drop off the bread for dinner, and found herself confronted with a
massive black wolf, its golden eyes level with hers and a pink tongue lolling
from its mouth.
telescope, stickler, beard

She swallowed, and edged to the side. The wolf’s eyes followed her, and when she
had almost made it around the the chair, when the wolf backed around and cut her
off. “Can you call him away?” she called to the man behind her. A sharp whistle
made the wolf pad past her and back to its master. “Come sit with me.” She
sighed. “I really don’t have time for small talk.” “Then we won’t talk small.
Sit.” Something in his voice couldn’t be argued with and she sat. His beard was
thick and neat, his face worn. The wolf sat with its head in his lap. An open
satchel on the table showed an array of impressive tools, a knife, a telescope,
a crystal ball, and other things that she didn’t recognize. “I’m sorry for the
informality, I’m not a stickler for pomp and circumstance,” he said, and
chuckled. “I suppose I’ve been out in the Wilds for too long to be fit company
for civilized folks.” “Whatever made you go out there?” she asked. “The question
is what made me come back,” he replied, the jovial expression falling from his

❤ DragonBeck


A Look Back At My 2017 Resolutions

Hi people! So, as is only natural, at the end of 2016 I published a blog outlining my lofty hopes and dreams for 2017. You can read it here.

Let’s have a look at what those were, and how many of the got done, in part or in whole:

  1. Write. A lot. I did this. Not as much as I’d hoped (I wanted to get the first draft of my fifth novel done, but that didn’t happen). I rewrote book 1, and finished book 4, wrote some Stories My Friends Started, and some flash fiction writing exercises; and a few short short stories for anthologies. And a story to submit to Writers of the Future (it didn’t win but it was awesome).
  2. Read. Not quite as much as I write, but at least some. I did this!!! I read the Pendragon series (awesome) and Second Chances by Alanna J. Rubin (also awesome!).
  3. Keep Erika happy with my quota of Stories My Friends Started (if you’d like to help me with this particular resolution, go to, and give us a sentence to start!) I sort of did this – Erika may disagree, but you can see what I did do here. “Jumping Back”, “Quiet”, “Liabilities of Language”, and “Inspiration” are a few of my favorites, as well as the rather impressive (if I do say so myself) four-part “Magic Mirror” story.
  4. Write/publish stories in the much-anticipated sequel to The Death of Jimmy – The Purge of Jimmy (coming soon). Yes – get your copy here for just $0.99!!
  5. Write/publish stories in Super Useless (coming sooner). And yes!! Get your copy of these delightful people with not so super superpowers here ($0.99)!
  6. Get my 2017 anthology in on time and within the specified word count. I did this too! “The Writer’s Trial” a fun little piece about writers, devils, and talking cats that I wrote several years ago, and by several years, I mean over a decade. You can get your copy here, also $0.99!
  7. Publish Book IV of the Guardians of the Path series. Yes! Go me! You can get the first four books here!
  8. Write first draft of Book V of GOTP (and dare to hope it will be published at the end of the year). Yeah, not so much. Strike one *sad face*.
  9. Write a novella series (or two). Yeah, really not so much. Strike two *sheds a tear*
  10. Savor the coffee. Let the Force flow through me… I did this. Lots of delicious coffee, and I saw Star Wars: Rogue One, though I haven’t seen The Last Jedi yet, but soon.
  11. Spend lots of time with my family. I did this too. We Skyped a lot, because we’re spread out across the U.S. now.
  12. Spend lots of time with my amazing companions in the Ink Slingers Guild, drinking tea, laughing, and being awesome. I did this. It was awesome.
  13. Be awesome in general. I think I did this.
  14. Spread the awesomeness. I beta read a couple books for some friends of mine, baked people yummy things, did a lot of networking this year, made a super cool little calendar for the Ink Slingers Guild.
  15. Bake yummy things. So many yummy things: chocolate chip cookies, strawberry jam biscuits, gingerbread, mince pies, shortbread.
  16. Make some good memories. I went to California to see where I was born, I went to Megacon, I went to the movies to see Thor: Ragnarok with my mom for my birthday, I went to see WD HAN in concert.
  17. Do something that I haven’t done before. I went to Megacon – my very first Convention! It was awesome!
  18. Go somewhere new. I’m not sure if this totally counts, but here goes: I flew by myself for the first time to visit my sister in California. It wasn’t new so much – I was born there, but it was the first time I’d been back in 24 years, so it felt like some place new. My sister also kept complaining about how new everything was, and all the new buildings that were being put up, so I feel that lends credence to my assertion that this counts.
  19. Don’t spend too much time on the internet (very important). I totally did this. You can read about my internet-free adventure here.
  20. Find that dragon, and travel the world a-dragonback (from 2016). In progress.
  21. Take over the world (also from 2016). Also in progress.

And that’s the last one – not bad for a year!! I am very proud of myself for actually getting most of my stuff done! Now I’ll have to think up some awesome resolutions for 2018….

❤ DragonBeck


Merry Christmas!

Though it’s been said, many times, many ways, Merry Christmas to you!

Buon Natale
Merry Christmas
Fröhliche Weihnachten
Joyeux Noel
Feliz Navidad
Gun Tso Sun Tan’Gung Haw Sun
Hyvaa joulua
Sarbatori vesele
Kala Christouyenna
Shinnen omedeto
Mele Kalikimaka
Pozdrevlyayu s prazdnikom Rozhdestva is Novim Godom
Boas Festas e Feliz Ano Novo
Vesele Bozicne
Sawadee Pee Mai
Gesëende Kersfees
Gezur Krislinjden
Idah Saidan Wa Sanah Jadidah
Shenoraavor Nor Dari yev Pari Gaghand
Tezze Iliniz Yahsi Olsun
Selamat Hari Natal
Zorionak eta Urte Berri On!
Shuvo Naba Barsha
Vesele Vanoce
Nedeleg laouen na bloavezh mat
Tchestita Koleda
Bon Nadal i un Bon Any Nou!
Prejeme Vam Vesele Vanoce a stastny Novy Rok
Yukpa, Nitak Hollo Chito
Subha nath thalak Vewa
Sung Tan Chuk Ha
Sretan Bozic
Glædelig Jul
Jutdlime pivdluarit ukiortame pivdluaritlo!
Gajan Kristnaskon
Ruumsaid juulup|hi
Cristmas-e-shoma mobarak bashad
Zalig Kerstfeest en Gelukkig nieuw jaar
Maligayan Pasko!
Noflike Krystdagen en in protte Lok en Seine yn it Nije Jier!
Nollaig chridheil agus Bliadhna mhath ùr!
Nadolig Llawen
Feliz Natal
En frehlicher Grischtdaag un en hallich Nei Yaahr!
Barka da Kirsimatikuma Barka da Sabuwar Shekara!
Shub Naya Baras
Selamat Hari Natal
Idah Saidan Wa Sanah Jadidah
Ojenyunyat Sungwiyadeson honungradon nagwutut
Gledileg Jol
Nollick ghennal as blein vie noa
Natale hilare et Annum Faustum
Prieci’gus Ziemsve’tkus un Laimi’gu Jauno Gadu!
Linksmu Kaledu
Sreken Bozhik
LL Milied Lt-tajjeb
Meri Kirihimete
Merry Keshmish
God Jul
Pulit nadal e bona annado
Vrolijk Kerstfeest en een Gelukkig Nieuwjaar!
Bikpela hamamas blong dispela Krismas na Nupela yia i go long yu
Wesolych Swiat Bozego Narodzenia
La Maunia Le Kilisimasi Ma Le Tausaga Fou
Hristos se rodi
Sretan Bozic oppure Vesele vianoce
God Jul and (Och) Ett Gott Nytt År
Noeliniz Ve Yeni Yiliniz Kutlu Olsun
Srozhdestvom Kristovym
Kellemes Karacsonyi unnepeket
Naya Saal Mubarak Ho
Chung Mung Giang Sinh
E ku odun, e ku iye’dun

❤ DragonBeck



Fantastical Flash Fiction

Greetings all! Around this time of year, everyone gets pretty busy, myself included, so you’ll have to forgive the brief message! I hope you are doing well, and the holidays are not unduly stressing you out. Here’s some fantastical flash fiction from the last Ink Slingers Guild meeting for you to enjoy during an interlude to the craziness! 🙂

Regard, ruler, format,

“Your problem is that the format of your spell is wrong,” Moss pointed at the
pile of feathers at the end of the pentagram. “What is that?”
Sara looked at the bloody mass, and her face colored. “I’m not really sure. My
cat brought it in this morning, and it seemed fresh enough…” She trailed off
at the pained look on Moss’ face.
The wizard pinched the bridge of his nose, gave a deep sigh and pulled out a
ruler. He knelt down, being careful not to touch the cat’s offering, and began
to measure the lines she had drawn. “Off by two inches. Off by two and a half
inches. This one’s better-only off by one and a quarter.”
Sara was fighting tears, determined not to let him see how upset she was.
Fortunately, he was so intent on critiquing her spell that he didn’t have
attention for her. “And with regard to the placement,” he pointed at an oblique
angle towards the door. “It should be lined up with the point to the
North-north-west. If you truly want to summon the spirit of your grandfather,
you’re going to have to start again.”
Sara sighed, and went to get the bleach. That blood was going to take some work
to get out.
poison (my word), top, satisfy,

Nat very carefully drew the tip of the arrow through the poison, watching the
black liquid gleam and then sink into the metal. This particular batch was for
an assassin who was very difficult to satisfy, but there was a reason Nat was
called the best. Nat set the arrow on top of the roll of leather, and reached
for the last arrow. He held it up to the light, admiring the grain of the wood,
the expert fletching, the razor sharp head. Instead of drawing this through the
jar in front of him, he stood and walked to the shelf behind his work-desk. He
pulled the blue book from its place, and pressed the hidden lever. The false
back swung forward, and revealed the little cubby he kept his most rare and
potent potions. The tiny bottle had but a single drop left, and Nat has been
saving it for a very long time, but now the time was right. He tipped the liquid
onto the last arrow, and watched as the metal began to glow as if it has just
been pulled from a fire. Then the glow faded, but if one held the arrow up to
the light, the tip of the arrow now had a slightly paler gleam than the others.
Nat smiled grimly. It was time for payback.
Derail, reflection, sugar,

Everything was in place to derail the king’s coronation. The street urchins had
been payed to tip the barrels of oil over the procession. The sharpshooter with
the flaming arrows was positioned on the corner of the highest roof of the
square, his arrow coated in black to dull the sun’s reflection on the metal.
“What do you mean, the coronation has been called off?” the sulky lord shouted.
“They can’t call it off!”
“I’m afraid they can, and they have,” the elderly advisor said without sympathy.
“It’s raining. They cannot hold a party in the rain.”
“When will they reschedule?” the lord asked. “They did not see fit to give that
information to me,” the advisor said, only now the slightest signs of strain
seeping through his carefully controlled demeanor.
“Well, then, find out!” the lord said, throwing himself across the feather bed
pouting. “First bring me some mulled apple cider. With sugar!” he added in an
imperious tone at the retreating back of the old man. The advisor closed the
door to the lord’s chamber, and only now did his impassive face melt into a
disgruntled scowl.
“Perhaps someone should plan your assassination, you spoiled little brat,” he
muttered to himself, before he walked off to get the tea.

❤ DragonBeck


Happy Thanksgiving

Wishing everyone a very, very Happy Thanksgiving!

I hope you have many wonderful things to be thankful for, and remember that no matter where we are today, we can always work towards making a better tomorrow!

“In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.” – Abraham Lincoln

❤ DragonBeck