This isn’t the type of post I ever thought I would make as a writer. When I was a child and even through the early stages of my writing career, I thought I would tell stories about other people, using the “write what you know” maxim as a way to share things I had researched as well as emotions I had experienced. Standard things people expect, right?
But I did share a handful of experiences in my books from It Hungers through the A Tale of Two Crowns trilogy. If you know my life, you will know what to look for. And that level of veiled presentation was always intentional.
And then things changed with Wolf in the Sanctuary and Carmilla’s Gambit. In several places in those books, I opened the floodgates and spilled my own blood onto the pages of a few chapters. Given the times in which we live, it felt necessary to say what I said there and to bear my soul in a more open way.
And that is continuing in my current work in progress. Another Louisiana Gothic novel. Another novel bringing history and folklore into the present where the ghosts that haunt and threaten us are brought on by the sins of our pasts. A tale where identity is hidden for safety, and when it is revealed, the floodgates of fear, of longing, of loneliness, of desire, and of connection burst open, threatening to overwhelm the individual. A tale of loneliness and of belonging. A tale where doing the right thing requires making a moral choice between the “right way” and the “effective way.” A tale where the heroine’s journey is threatened by the ever-present looming danger of the corruption of ideals.
And again, I want to stress that I am writing a gothic tale, a tale in the style of the traditional gothic narratives of the 18th and 19th century. Do not look for a Happily Ever After in this romance, for it is a Gothic romance and not a genre-romance as the term is used today.
So, why am I telling a tale that will draw so much from my own personal experiences and my life? Again, we live in a time when my community faces attacks from politicians, from the clergy, from strangers, and even from those within our community who want to protect themselves by throwing us to the wolves. Even though history has recorded this to be an ineffective tactic. I am telling this tale because it demands I tell it. Like the ghosts of ancient castles and manors, it has haunted my mind for months, and so now, I sit to write. I sit to write the tale that refuses to let me rest until I do.
And here is the opening paragraph:
Hurricane season was a mirror of Louisiana’s soul, bringing out the best and the worst of both nature and humanity. Torrential downpours hurled by raging storm-winds along with surging tides devastated the landscape, felling trees, flooding homes, and ending lives, but the fresh, clean petrichor and first rays of sunlight following the storm brought forth the promise of renewal, a promise Louisiana kept season after season. The storms also bore witness to the nobler, more hospitable side of the residents as neighbors and strangers alike helped each other, sharing food and shelter as well as aiding in evacuation when necessary. Unfortunately some individuals used the chaos of the storm to enrich themselves by stealing and looting from stores and fleeing families; still other, viler monsters gouged the wallets of residents by raising prices, often knowing punishment would be nothing but a fine—if they were punished at all.
Follow along this journey. And if you want to see my full catalog of dark urban fantasy, paranormal romance, gothic fantasy, and Louisiana Gothic, you can visit my website, Cursing Raven Books, for more!
-Robin
cursingravenbooks.com 