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FROM IACULA
My thoughts. My craft.
Demessie I — Gone
The smell of woodsmoke woke him. He lay on his mat and watched the light move on the wall — a pale bar across the clay, sharp-edged, climbing slow. Past sunrise.
A Precise Grief
I used to skip the scenes where characters got broken. Now I'm the one holding the pen.
Meda I: A Kingdom Before The Fall
A droning hum spiralled—and inside the vibration, the rhythmic tread of thirty thousand men.
The First Fantasy Novel I Ever Tried to Write
I was twelve years old when I first tried to write a fantasy novel. I didn’t know what I was beginning.
Why I Write
Writing has always been my thing. Other kids had the guitar, or football, or dance—mine was the pen; my way of being myself.
A Hissing Sound
Thunder growled outside her window, making Dinah shiver. Silver flashes streaked across her bedroom walls, sneaking through the cracks in the heavy pink drapes.