AI and Writing - A Series of Looks Inside: Part Three - Sudowrite

Hello, and happy Wednesday, everyone! Today, we're continuing our look inside AI series and examining Sudowrite. As before, I'll use the same prompt I gave ChatGPT, do no editing, and insert comments here and there as we trudge along.

Ready? Grab a drink, and get ready to rumble!

So, when I first started the free trial over at Sudowrite, it asked me a bunch of questions like:

• What genre(s) do you write?
• What level of writer are you (pro, starting, etc.)?
• What are you looking to accomplish (first draft, plot, etc.)?
• Have you ever made money from writing?
• And other questions like that.

I found it super easy to login and get going, but it was a lot more detailed in what it wanted you to input: 

It's pretty! So, I used the basic stuff from my vague outline (Elara, vampire, and Rhys, shape-shifting unicorn) to fill out the fields and had it generate character info by simply putting in a name of a character and a race:

As you can see, that worked pretty well, even if it is kinda generic...

Now, I gave it the loose outline for Chapter 1 ONLY (reminder: Chapter 1: Elara, a lonely vampire, hunts in the forest. She senses a strange presence), and clicked Create Chapter One: 

It made me click to generate beats before it would output (at least it's thorough). It output this:

1. Begin with Elara moving silently through the dense forest, her senses heightened as she searches for prey. Describe her movements as fluid and deliberate, emphasizing her predatory nature.
2. As she navigates the underbrush, have Elara reflect briefly on the solitude of her existence, hinting at her internal conflict between her instincts and her desire for connection.
3. Introduce the forest setting through Elara's perspective, using her acute senses to convey the oppressive darkness and the whisper of leaves underfoot, creating an atmosphere of dread.
4. Have Elara pause, sensing a shift in the air that signals the presence of something unfamiliar. Describe her reaction as a mix of curiosity and wariness, her instincts alerting her to potential danger.
5. As she continues her hunt, weave in subtle hints of her age and experience through her thoughts, perhaps recalling similar moments from her past that have left an indelible mark on her psyche.
6. Allow Elara to catch a fleeting glimpse of movement in the shadows, something that defies her understanding. Use this moment to heighten the tension, her mind racing with possibilities.
7. Have her follow the elusive presence, her steps careful and calculated, as if she is both hunter and hunted. Convey her determination to uncover the source of this disturbance.
8. As she draws closer, let Elara's thoughts drift to the network of allies she maintains, pondering whether this presence could be a threat to her carefully constructed world.
9. Introduce a moment of unexpected warmth as Elara recalls a past encounter with a trusted ally, a rare connection that briefly softens her guarded demeanor.
10. Bring her focus back to the present as the strange presence seems to vanish, leaving only an unsettling silence in its wake. Describe her frustration and the lingering sense of unease.
11. Have Elara pause to consider her next move, weighing the risks of pursuing this mystery further against the safety of retreating to familiar territory.
12. As she makes her decision, allow a moment of introspection where Elara acknowledges the psychological torment of her existence, the constant balancing act between predator and seeker of connection.
13. Conclude the chapter with Elara retreating deeper into the forest, her mind still haunted by the strange presence and the questions it raises. Leave the reader with a sense of foreboding and anticipation for what lies ahead.

Finally, I was able to click for it to do the writing (a new writer would be overwhelmed by now). Here's what we got (it decided on first person, unlike GPT, which gave me third without me asking):

It labeled the beats, by the way.

1 - 2

I threaded through the forest, a silent wraith among the ancient trees. My movements were fluid, deliberate—a dance perfected over countless years of necessity. The hunt was second nature to me; my every sense honed for this singular purpose. The evening's chill caressed my pale skin as I glided beneath the gnarled boughs, eyes scanning the darkness for the telltale signs of life.

Okay. Why are we using words like boughs? This is YA. Just say limbs. Still, not terrible.

The solitude of these woods mirrored the desolation within me. I was a solitary creature by design, yet at times, the silence that surrounded me seemed almost deafening. I longed for a connection, a tether to another soul that might understand the depth of my being. But such thoughts were fleeting shadows, whisked away by the ever-present instincts that steered me back to the hunger that drove me.

When is it silent for a vampire? They have super hearing... Plus, that sentence starting with but is making me want to get stabby.

With each step, I brushed against the underbrush, leaves whispering secrets to the night as I passed. The forest was my confidant, my silent partner in this endless waltz of survival. Yet, in its depths, I perceived my own reflection—an echo of the predator that stalked within, always lurking beneath the veneer of civility I presented to the world.

As I moved, I pondered the tenuous balance of my existence—the ceaseless tug-of-war between predator and yearning spirit. The forest knew me as both, and in its embrace, I allowed myself the rare indulgence of introspection. I was a creature of the dark, bound to it, even as I sought the faintest glimmer of something more within the enigmatic shadows.

But for now, the hunt called, and I answered.

Again with the but...

3 - 4

The forest, with its gnarled trees and dense canopy, swallowed the light of the moon, casting everything in a monochrome palette of shadows. The air was thick with the scent of decay, an undercurrent of life returning to the earth from which it sprang. I trod lightly over the damp carpet of leaves, their whispers trailing my every step like cautious specters wary of revealing too much. Here, in this sylvan labyrinth, the darkness was a tangible thing, a shroud that draped over my shoulders and clung to my skin.

More obscure words. Sylvan? Okay, but I'd edit that out. You're writing for teens, and you don't have to use words they need to look up in every third paragraph. We get it. You're smarter than we are.

A weight lay upon the world here, oppressive as if the very atmosphere sought to suffocate any spark of light or hope. Yet, I navigated this gloom with ease, for it was an old friend, a companion as familiar to me as my own shadow. My senses, ever attuned to the subtlest of changes, registered each rustle, each muted heartbeat of the nocturnal creatures that hid just out of sight.

But then, without warning, the forest held its breath. I stilled, my steps halting amidst the tangled roots. A ripple ran through the air, a current that disturbed the stagnant heaviness around me. My eyes narrowed, searching the impenetrable blackness for the source of this aberration. It was not fear that quickened my pulse but rather a keen interest sharpened by the potential threat this unknown element represented.

How would a forest warn you? Okay, last comment. Read on and LMK what you think.

My instincts were seldom wrong, and they screamed at me now—warning of unseen eyes, perhaps, or the faintest brush of another's presence encroaching upon my solitary domain. Curiosity pricked at me, a thorn that drew forth the smallest droplet of trepidation. I remained motionless, allowing only the minute twitch of an ear or the slow, controlled exhale of breath to betray my vigilance.

The forest seemed to close in around me, the ancient trees whispering among themselves, their branches creaking like arthritic fingers. Something had shifted, a mere wisp of change in the otherwise static tableau of night, yet enough to set my mind racing down dark corridors of possibility. What phantom or foe might dare to traverse my hunting grounds? Who—or what—could be so brazen or so foolish?

A blend of wariness and wonder settled over me, the predator within alert and ready, even as the specter of loneliness that haunted my heart stirred. This disturbance, whatever its nature, was a deviation from the solitude that both comforted and cursed me. I stood there, caught between the urge to seek out this enigma and the wisdom that bade me tread with care.

For in the oppressive embrace of the forest, one could never be certain whether they were the hunter or the hunted.

5 - 6

I slunk forward, the damp earth yielding silently beneath my feet. The forest was a crypt of shadows, old as time itself, each tree a testament to the countless seasons I had weathered. There was a rhythm to the hunt, a dance I had learned and perfected over centuries, each step a measured beat in an endless nocturne.

Memories flickered through my mind—faces and voices of a distant past—shadows that danced at the edge of my consciousness, much like the game I tracked now. I'd seen empires rise and fall, witnessed humanity's relentless march, all while cloaked in the anonymity of the night. Each era deposited another layer upon my soul, the weight of history a constant companion.

A wraithlike movement caught the corner of my eye, elusive as a whisper on the wind. I halted, every sinew taut with anticipation. Such occurrences were rare, beyond the normal cadence of the forest’s nocturnal symphony. It was a silent discordance, a note struck off-key in the otherwise harmonious dark.

What phantom had found its way into this secluded theater? What being could dance upon the edges of my perception, a mere silhouette brushed against the canvas of night? My heart, though it beat a slow, eternal pulse, quickened just so, thrumming with the thrill of the unknown.

WHAT? Okay. I promise I'm done now. Ugh.

I scanned the darkness, my eyes adept at piercing through its cloak. A fleeting shadow slipped between the trees, formless and soundless, defying my understanding. Tension laced through me, a symphony of dread played out along the strings of my nerves. For a moment, the forest held its breath, and I with it, as if waiting for some fell crescendo.

The possibility of such a presence, one that hovered just beyond the grasp of my senses, ignited a spark of fear—a feeling I both revered and despised. Millennia had taught me much, but the unknown remained my most formidable adversary, a foe that whispered promises of both enlightenment and despair.

I longed to confront it, to understand it, even as the echoes of bygone transgressions murmured cautionary tales. With each encounter, I danced ever closer to revelations I feared yet coveted, the line between predator and prey blurring into obscurity.

7 - 8

I stalked forward, each step a deliberate echo of silence. The forest seemed to recoil from my passage, the trees sentinel-like in their silent judgement. The presence I pursued was as elusive as it was silent; it flitted from shadow to shadow, a ghost upon the wind.

My mind churned with possibilities, with every sinew taut, ready to spring forth or retreat. Was I the predator here, or had I become prey to some unknown specter? This conundrum gnawed at me, its teeth sharp against the fabric of my understanding. In this hunt, I was both maestro and marionette, directing a dance macabre that might well lead to my own undoing.

The notion of an unseen adversary lurking in the opaque woods sent a shiver through my being. It was not fear—no, for what could truly frighten one such as I? It was the anticipation, the thrill of potential discovery. For centuries have I roamed this earth, and yet, still, there are shadows that slip beyond my grasp, secrets that taunt me with their reticence.

Could this presence be a harbinger of threat to the fragile tapestry of alliances I've woven through time? My thoughts drifted to those few I dare call allies, their faces flickering like candlelight in my mind's eye. If danger lurked, it would find not just me but all who dwelled within my sphere of influence. Such responsibility weighed heavily, though I bore it as if it were but a wisp of cobweb.

And so, I moved with purpose, driven by the need to unveil this mystery. There was power in knowledge, and I intended to claim it. Whether this entity was friend or foe, it mattered little—it had pierced the veil of my solitude, and for that alone, it owed me an audience.

I resolved then, in the brooding heart of the forest, that I would not rest until this enigma unfurled before me, naked and unadorned. Whatever darkness it might herald, I would face it head-on, for I was Elara: ageless, inscrutable, and forever bound to the pursuit of truths hidden in the gloom.

9 - 10

I threaded through the undergrowth, the sharp scent of pine needling at my senses. The forest was a living thing, whispering secrets in a language only I seemed to fathom. As I pressed on, the memory of another night—a kinder night—flickered through my thoughts unbidden.

It had been a rare evening, under a moon so full and luminous it seemed a ghostly coin flipped by fate itself. There, amidst the looming shadows, I had met with Myra, an ally whose loyalty was as unfaltering as the stars. We had exchanged no promises, yet her gaze held an understanding deeper than the abyss that yawned between mortals and my kind. That night, she had gifted me a smile, a fleeting warmth that stirred something within this ancient, icy heart.

The recollection lingered, a phantom touch upon my soul, but the moment's solace was ephemeral. For now, the strange presence that had pulled me into this nocturnal waltz had vanished as if it were nothing more than mist. A silence descended, thick and suffocating, devoid even of the sighs of nocturnal creatures.

My pulse quickened, a sense of violation creeping over me, as though some sacred rite had been interrupted. The darkness around me seemed to press closer, a shroud that threatened to smother. Frustration knotted in my chest, for not since the earliest days of my existence had I encountered such enigmatic vexation.

I stood, motionless, the air stagnant and heavy. Where had the presence gone? What game did it play at, darting in and out of perception, eluding even me? Disquiet gnawed at my resolve like vermin, leaving behind a trail of doubt.

An unsettling thought wormed its way into my consciousness: perhaps this was no mere interloper. Perhaps it was a harbinger of things even I dared not contemplate. The vast tapestry of my life, spun over countless years, felt suddenly fragile, vulnerable to the whims of an unseen player.

I moved again, a shadow among shadows, while the forest watched in mute complicity. The echo of my own footsteps seemed too loud in the hush that followed, and I wondered whether I was truly alone or if eyes unseen continued to track my every move. A chill slithered down my spine, the familiar embrace of dread wrapping around me like a cloak.

"Elara," I whispered my name to the night, a talisman against the encroaching fear. "Remember who you are."

Yet as I retreated further into the heart of the woods, the questions persisted, unrelenting as the tide. What was this presence, and why did it haunt me so? The answers lay hidden within the darkness, cloaked in enigma, and I knew my search was far from over. The forest held its breath, and somewhere in its depths, truth waited, patient and insidious.

11 - 12

I halted at the edge of a clearing, the ghostly moonlight painting the world in monochrome. The whisper of wind through the leaves was my only companion as I considered the path before me. To push forward into the unknown, to unravel this mystery that stirred the stagnant waters of my existence, or to retreat into the comfort of familiar shadows?

The forest loomed, indifferent to my plight, its tangled branches like the threads of destiny I had deftly navigated for centuries. Yet, now, hesitation clawed at my insides. Every instinct screamed of peril, yet the siren call of discovery beckoned with equal fervor.

"Prudence," I murmured to myself, the word tasting of age and regret. "But at what cost?"

In the stillness of decision, memories unbidden swirled around me—a masquerade of faces and whispers from lives long past. Each fleeting connection was a jewel I treasured and mourned, a reminder of what I both sought and sacrificed.

With each step I'd taken through time's relentless march, the divide within me yawned wider—the predator honing her instincts, the soul yearning for a touch that wouldn't recoil in horror. In my heart, a graveyard of moments too delicate to survive in the cold light of my reality.

"Am I to be forever caught in this web I've woven?" My voice was but a breath, a ripple across the silence that had fallen like a shroud. "A creature of the hunt, yet haunted by the specter of solitude."

It was a torment that scratched at the confines of my being, a slow dance with madness under the watchful gaze of an ancient moon. A balance precarious as the flight of a raven against a storm-swept sky.

"Enough," I resolved with a quiet defiance that belied the tremor in my core. To chase this enigma might court destruction, but to ignore it would be to deny the very essence of my cursed immortality. The choice was made, the die cast upon fate's indifferent altar.

With the grace of one who has weathered countless tempests, I turned away from the safety of known darkness and stepped toward the beckoning abyss. The night held its breath; I could feel the weight of watching stars. And within me, the eternal struggle raged on—predator and seeker entwined, bound by chains of their own making.

13 - 13

I retreated deeper into the forest, each step a silent testament to the unresolved enigma that lingered in the shadowed boughs above. The strange presence had dissolved as if it were but a wisp of fog in the chill air, yet its memory clung to me like the remnants of a haunting dream. My heart, a reluctant drumbeat in the oppressive stillness, echoed the rhythm of unanswered questions.

The forest, an ancient witness to my centuries of solitude, closed around me with an intimacy that bordered on suffocating. I moved through the undergrowth, parting the darkness with my passage, a specter drifting through a world where light dared not follow. The whispers of leaves underfoot seemed to murmur secrets meant only for the damned.

"Who—or what—were you?" I mused aloud, my voice threading through the trees with a deceptive calm. The words hung suspended, a thin veil against the gnawing void that hungered for certainty. Yet there was none to be found, only the unsettling silence that answered my call.

My mind, a labyrinth wherein every thought led back to the impenetrable mystery of that fleeting vision, turned upon itself with a predator's cunning. It was a torment, this endless pursuit of truths that slip through fingers like sand, leaving one grasping at shadows and the bitter taste of what might never be known.

A shiver danced along my spine, not from the creeping chill of the night, but from the foreboding that settled upon my soul. Something primal within me recoiled, sensing a change in the fabric of this nocturnal tapestry—a thread pulled loose, unraveling destinies yet unwritten.

"Am I the hunter still, or has the game turned upon me?" The question was a whisper lost to the sighing wind, a secret shared with the ghosts of ancient oaks. Their gnarled forms bore silent witness to my turmoil, branches reaching toward a sky bereft of stars, as if in supplication for deliverance from the encroaching gloom.

With each measured stride, I felt the pull of the abyss, its siren call a melody woven from the darkest strands of my being. Yet I resisted, for now. There would be time enough to plumb the depths of this fresh hell; tonight, caution was my closest ally in the dance with the unknown.

And so, I vanished into the heart of the forest, the echo of my passage a fading note in the symphony of the night. Behind me, the questions persisted, their weight a shroud draped across my shoulders as I moved through the velvet darkness.

"Tomorrow," I promised the silence, "your answers will be mine." But even as I spoke, doubt gnawed at the edges of my resolve. For what new horrors awaited discovery beneath the cloak of daylight's return?

The night stretched before me, a canvas painted with dread and anticipation, and I—the enigmatic wanderer—its most reluctant artist. 

*******************************BREAK BACK TO ME*******************************

It's very descriptive, but not a lot happened. She wandered through the woods and thought she was near something. I don't know about you, but we're now close to 2800 words, and nothing is happening. Why would I read on?

ChatGPT was a bit fast through the narrative, and this is a bit slow. Wonder if I'll find anything in my research that paces just right? Again, I could "train" it to write more like me if I fed it a bunch of my stuff, but that's not what we're doing here. New writers don't have a voice yet, ya know?

I also noticed this when I went to close the page:

Alrighty then...

Another long post down. Thanks for sticking with me. Off to update the first post with the link.

Let me know what you think down in the comments.

Well, that's all for today, folks! 

Until next time, WRITE ON!

Jo

Busier'n a One-Armed Paper Hanger in a Wind Storm - Book Recipe Updates

Hello, and HAPPY MONDAY, good people of the blogosphere! I bet you all thought I forgot about today's post, huh? I didn't. I've just been busy coming up with new recipes for the next books in the Recipe for Redemption series. I kinda figured, since I had all weekend (hubby was away), I'd spend my time on recipes for books two AND three. Book three is Frankie's story. :D

I managed to get several recipes nailed all the way down, but I still need to do the gluten-free corn cookie (the most important? yes). Thing is, I was out of corn jelly. Fast forward to Sunday, and my poor jelly didn't set. That's right! I had sweet corn water. *insert eye roll*

So, just to prove to myself that I knew what I was actually doing, I remade the corn jelly and made some mango preserves with a bit of crushed red pepper flake, too. Yes, it all set this time. While I now won't have time to do all the gluten-free stuff this week, I'll be back at it once I return at the beginning of next month. I have a couple of ideas I'm dying to try.

I'll still blog, but I won't be at the house with the good kitchen.

What recipes have I been working on?

I'm glad you asked! :)

We have a corn cake:

A corn muffin:

A failed attempt (okay, okay, it was TWO) at a corn nugget on a stick:

The inside didn't quite cook. And here's that jelly and preserves:

Can you tell which is which?

Please excuse the mess my kitchen is right now. That's what a crazy weekend of creation does. You should've seen it yesterday... I mean, I'm not a fan of a mess, and it took me three hours to clean everything up. My recipe notebook is a jumble of cross outs and replacements. Ha. Ugh.

I chatted with one of my children for three hours today. We went to the store, got ingredients, and had a mind meld over the mango preserves. I can't wait to crack into one of those jars and slather a bit on a piece of buttery toast. YUM.

Add to all of this, I had repairs on a couple of walls in the house, and I had to cremate one of my beautiful rattas that passed away a couple weeks ago. Like I said, I've been kinda busy.

I still have a whole afternoon though! I plan to at least get some more packing done before I turn in for the night. Big move is happening soon! I'll be back to my regularly scheduled program Wednesday.

Well, that's all for today, folks!

Until next time, WRITE ON!

Jo

AI and Writing - A Series of Looks Inside: Part Two - ChatGPT

Good morning, and happy Friday, good people of the blogosphere! Today, we're taking a light look at creating prompts and how ChatGPT fares on the chapter production scale. To say this was fun is giving it way too much credit. I'm the kind of writer who enjoys pantsing, so creating all this plot is really far outside my wheelhouse. I usually have a beginning and an end, and all the character details, and then I write fast doing mini points along the way. My process can be found in this blog post.

Now that the intro is out of the way, let's dive into creating a prompt and making a chapter. I can already tell you I was less than impressed, but the authors I know that do this spend just as much time creating prompts (it's an art form in and of itself) and editing as I do just writing it myself. BUT! Not everyone can do that, so if you need a little help along the way, you may find something here that will assist you. If not, just read it for fun. :)

Bold is from the AI until we get down to the yummy part. Okay, let's get going! Grab a drink and a blankie, and read on.

I started on Vertex AI to get an idea of how to write a prompt (again, I have no clue how to do this). It gave me what I thought was a stupid one, so I used my writing skills and came up with this:

I’m trying to be as vague as possible here, but it seems like that won't work.
I clicked Generate Prompt a bajillion times and got nothing. Trying something else. Went back to here and tried this:

Here’s what it gave me:
Okay, here's a short outline:
Chapter 1: Elara, a lonely vampire, hunts in the forest. She senses a strange presence.
Chapter 2: A unicorn, Rhys, shifts into human form. He's lost and confused.
Chapter 3: Elara finds Rhys. She's drawn to his innocence, despite her vampire nature.
Chapter 4: Elara takes Rhys to her secluded home. He learns about vampires and her solitary life.
Chapter 5: Rhys reveals his unicorn origins. Elara is shocked but intrigued by his magic.
Chapter 6: A growing attraction sparks between them. A threat from Elara's past emerges.

Interesting. Now we’ll take our little idea and head over to ChatGPT. For this experiment, we’ll use GPT o1. I’ll always start my chats off this way and use the EXACT same prompt/outline:
Me: Hello, (addresses the AI)! I need some help writing a book, and I'm wondering if you can help with that.
Response: Absolutely! I’d be happy to help. Could you share a bit more about what you’re working on? For example:
    Genre: Is it fiction, nonfiction, or a mix of both?
    Topic or theme: What’s the main focus or subject matter?
    Audience: Who are you writing for?
    Stage: Have you started writing already, or are you still in the idea/outlining phase?
The more details you can give, the more specific my suggestions and guidance can be. Feel free to let me know what you have in mind!
(these are excellent questions and I didn't think to include them, so I'll make them up now)
Me: Nice. It's a fiction novel, and the main focus is two supernatural creatures coming together to defeat something I haven't come up with yet. Over the course of the story, the two will fall in love and end up together.
It will be a YA romance fantasy novel.
I have a loose outline I can give you for each chapter. Chapters should be no longer than 3000 words.
Response: Great! I’d love to see your outline. Go ahead and share the details you have for each chapter, and then we can develop them further. Once we have your outline fleshed out, we can start drafting scenes, refining the plot, and shaping your characters’ arcs.

Whenever you’re ready, feel free to share as much or as little of your outline as you’d like!
Me: Awesome. My two main characters are a vampire and a unicorn that can turn into a human. Here’s the outline for the first six chapters, but I only want to do the first chapter for now. *pastes in the loose outline from above*

Also, can I just say how much I hate the character names? Ugh. It’s like every YA novel of all time was examined, and these are the most popular two names. Gross.

Response (this will be long, but I’ll go through and note stuff - my notes will be in italics):
Crafting chapter details

Elara, a solitary vampire, traverses a forest with heightened senses, their sounds and scents filling her awareness. As her path unfolds, a distinct and unfamiliar essence emerges.

*******NOTE: GPT reasoned for 11 seconds before beginning. Insert eye roll. BUT it did expand upon the loose outline. One point for GPT.******

Below is a possible draft of Chapter 1, written in a YA-friendly style and designed to be fewer than 3,000 words. Feel free to adjust, expand, or shorten as needed to match your personal style and overall vision.

---

## Chapter 1

Elara stilled beneath the canopy of towering pines, her heightened senses tingling. The thick forest was home to many creatures—deer, foxes, even the occasional elk. But tonight, she hunted something different. The quiet hum in the back of her mind told her prey was near, though it wasn’t any ordinary animal. This was something… else. 

Now, this isn't my writing style at all. I probably would've dropped something like this:

Death. Scents of blood and pine filled the air, and Elara lifted her face to catch the scent like the predator she'd been turned into several hundred years ago. Her ears pulled back, listening for the faintest rustle of a leaf or twig snap. Forest creatures stilled, making the air silent but for one sound. It was coming from her left, and she recognized the rattle of last breaths.

Which means I set the scene without naming a bunch of things that didn't matter and allowed the reader to insert some imagination. Moving on...

Moonlight threaded through the swaying branches, illuminating Elara’s porcelain-pale face. Her long black hair hung loose around her shoulders, blending into the shifting shadows. She took slow, measured breaths, out of habit more than necessity. Vampires didn’t need to breathe, at least not like humans. But old habits clung to her like the memory of sunlight.

Who says vampires automatically can't go out in the sun? Also, what's with the dropping of commas? This sentence: Vampires didn't need to breathe, at least, not like humans, but old habits clung to her like the memory of sunlight. Not the way I would've constructed it because there are too many asides for a novel.

She stepped forward, boots crunching softly in a thin layer of pine needles. Her eyes glimmered with preternatural awareness, scanning the darkness. She was used to the hush of the forest at night—it was usually comforting. But tonight, the silence felt charged.

**Keep moving,** she told herself. **It’s just a hunt, no different from any other.** 

By the way, the ** means italics and ### means bold. They don't copy over.

But deep down, she knew this night was different.

### A Lonely Existence <----- WHAT THE FRESH HELL IS THIS?!?!

Elara had learned to move quietly, to keep her presence unnoticed. A lone vampire traveling from region to region without a coven had to rely on stealth. She’d chosen this remote forest for a simple reason: no people, no prying eyes. The last thing she wanted was to hurt a human. She never drank from them unless absolutely necessary. Animal blood left her weaker, but it still kept her alive, as alive as a vampire could be.

Never said she didn't have a coven OR only drank from animals...

A pang of guilt stung her chest as she recalled her early days of transformation, when she couldn’t control the hunger. She squeezed her eyes shut at the memory of the first—and last—time she’d drained a human. That life, the bright red warmth on her lips, haunted her. It had forced her to live alone, far from temptation.

**Loneliness is better than regret,** she reminded herself. A mantra she’d repeated a thousand times.

And so, she made her home in the outskirts of this dense woodland, gathering enough sustenance from wild creatures, never staying long enough to be discovered.

### The Scent of Prey

Elara crouched behind a cluster of ferns, inhaling deeply. The crisp night air carried a medley of scents: damp earth, crushed pine needles, and distant water from a creek. But there was something else, faint but unmistakable.

**Blood?**

Her senses sharpened at the possibility. The metallic tang was subtle, as if carried on a stray wind. She rose to her feet and followed the scent, each step driven by a hunger she tried to ignore. Her heart—still and silent in her chest—almost seemed to thud with anticipation.

She slipped past a thicket and found a small clearing. The moonlight fell on a wounded doe, its flank gashed by what looked like a predator’s claws. It panted in shallow bursts, eyes wide with fear. Elara hesitated, compassion warring with her instincts. Animal blood was part of her routine, but the creature’s pain made her heart twist.

Still, her thirst had grown; she’d put off feeding for too long again, hoping to avoid it. **It’s this or risk losing control.**

She moved closer. The doe shuddered, and Elara knelt beside it, wishing she had another choice. She murmured an apology before sinking her fangs into its neck. The warm rush of blood soothed her burning throat. She drank carefully, mindful not to prolong the animal’s pain. Within moments, it went still, its suffering ended.

Elara pulled back, chest tight with guilt. Another innocent life taken. She placed a trembling hand on the doe’s side, silently thanking it for sustaining her. It was a ritual she’d created to ease her conscience, though the sadness never fully left.

### An Unexpected Aura

Just as she stood to leave, a ripple of energy coursed through the clearing. The hair on the back of her neck rose, and the gentle night breeze turned still. A strange awareness pulsed in the air, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

Elara whipped around, scanning the tree line. The shadows seemed unchanged, but she could sense something—a presence unlike any she had felt before. It was vibrant, emanating a warmth that starkly contrasted with her undead coldness.

**Another vampire?** she wondered. No, this didn’t feel like one of her kind; there was no scent of bloodlust, no suffocating aura of death. This presence was bright, more akin to life than the darkness she was used to.

A thousand questions shot through her mind, but she forced herself to stay calm. She was no stranger to unique beings—werewolves, witches, creatures that haunted the edges of mortal understanding—but this presence was different. It beckoned her somehow.

She swallowed, wiped her lips clean of any lingering blood, and took a cautious step forward. **What are you?** her thoughts sang in the silence.

### Compelled by Curiosity

Usually, Elara would slip back into the shadows after feeding. She avoided confrontation and kept interactions minimal. But tonight, curiosity tugged at her like an invisible chain.

She ventured deeper into the forest, following that warm, pulsing aura. Quiet as a wisp, she skirted gnarled roots and ducked under low-hanging branches. The canopy grew denser, blotting out moonlight, but her vision remained sharp. The path led her to a crooked birch, its trunk scarred by lightning. She paused, pressing a hand against the rough bark.

The presence flared again, tingling beneath her fingertips. It felt closer now, impossibly bright. Her pulse—if she could call it that—raced, and she rubbed her arms in a futile attempt to ward off a sudden chill.

Her instincts screamed for caution. **Anything that radiates this kind of energy could be dangerous.** And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to retreat. Something about it was… comforting. Inviting, almost.

The night continued in its hush, save for the rustle of leaves overhead. As she edged around the tree, her eyes locked onto a footprint in the soil—bare, human-shaped, and fresh. She knelt, tracing its edges with her fingertip. **Someone is out here,** she thought. **But who walks barefoot in this forest at night?**

Rising, she scanned the ground. There were more prints, each moving steadily in one direction, as though the person knew exactly where they were heading. She trailed them, stepping carefully in the footprints to stay silent.

### A Flicker of Light

A faint glow shimmered through the trees, halting her mid-step. At first, she thought it was a trick of the moonlight, but it danced—like a wisp of silver flame, darting from trunk to trunk. Elara’s sharp eyes followed the flicker, adrenaline spiking. Could this be a witch’s spell? A wandering spirit?

She crept closer, half expecting a spectral figure or even a group of forest nymphs—she’d heard enough stories of supernatural creatures drawn to moonlit groves. But the glimmer vanished as swiftly as it had appeared.

The trees thinned, revealing another small clearing. In the center rose an ancient oak, its thick branches twisting toward the sky. A broken stone circle lay scattered around its roots, remnants of some lost structure. Elara approached warily, sensing that the presence had led her here.

But the clearing was empty. Only the whisper of wind in the grass kept her company.

She sighed, shoulders slumping. Perhaps the aura had been nothing more than a fleeting magic or a trick of her imagination. She eyed the footprints again, but they seemed to stop at the edge of the clearing.

A primal part of her warned her to leave—daylight would come eventually, and she’d have to seek shelter. Still, she lingered, scanning the ground for any clue. A tuft of silver hair snagged on a broken stone drew her eye. She reached out to pick it up.

It felt soft, like strands of silk, shimmering in the moonlight. She turned it over in her hand, confusion knotting her brow. A faint energy radiated from the hair, matching the presence she’d been tracking.

She slid the strand into the pocket of her cloak. **I’ll figure this out later,** she told herself, heart fluttering with an uncharacteristic sense of excitement.

### A Lingering Unease

Elara stood there for a moment, soaking in the night, trying to calm the swirling questions in her mind. That strange warmth still buzzed in the atmosphere, calling to her. Part of her wanted to stay, to uncover the mystery, but her practical side urged her to go back before sunrise—or before something else found her.

With one final look at the clearing, she turned and made her way back through the forest. Each step felt heavier, as though the ground clung to her feet, wanting to drag her into something unknown. She glanced over her shoulder once, half-hoping to see a figure in the moonlight. But the clearing remained silent.

As she slipped past the pines, the distant hoot of an owl reminded her she wasn’t entirely alone. She smiled wryly to herself. She’d never been afraid of the forest. It was people—human or otherwise—who had the power to terrify her. And this presence? She couldn’t decide if it scared her or intrigued her beyond reason.

### Back to the Shadows

Navigating back to her hidden haven, Elara practiced her usual caution: she took a winding path, backtracked a few times to cover her scent, and finally reached the small, dilapidated cabin she called home. Nestled between thick firs, it looked like an abandoned woodsman’s shack, uninviting to any casual traveler. To Elara, it was a sanctuary.

She shut the rickety door behind her, leaning against it with a quiet exhale. The interior was sparse: a single cot, a small table, a few chairs she’d scavenged from a nearby ghost town. Moonlight from a single window provided just enough illumination for her to see by—though her vampire senses had no trouble in the dark.

Slipping off her cloak, she hung it on a nail by the door. Her thoughts lingered on the shimmering strand of hair she’d found. She pulled it from her pocket, holding it up to the thin moonbeam. It looked almost silver, but it glimmered with a faint rainbow sheen if she tilted it just right.

Her curiosity flared again. **What kind of creature leaves hair like this?** She had encountered werewolves, whose fur could be thick and coarse, but never shimmering silver. Some fae had iridescent hair, but she’d never known them to roam in these woods. And what about that human footprint? So many questions—and no answers.

Despite the steady hum of curiosity, exhaustion from the hunt pressed in. The doe’s blood would sustain her for a while, but it also made her feel weary. She set the hair on the table, where it caught the moonlight like a sliver of ice.

In the silence, she could almost imagine a soft voice drifting through the trees, calling her name. She shook her head to clear the thought—**just a trick of the mind,** she reasoned.

Stepping to the cot, she lay down, arms folded beneath her head. Vampires didn’t need sleep like humans did, but resting helped pass the long, empty hours until dusk. As she closed her eyes, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything in her life was about to shift. The loneliness she’d worn like armor felt different now, lighter and somehow more fragile.

**Tomorrow night**, she promised herself, **I’ll go back and search for more clues.**

She didn’t yet realize how entwined her fate would become with that mysterious presence in the forest. Nor did she know that soon, she would meet the being who possessed that silver hair—someone lost and just as alone as she was.

For now, she succumbed to the quiet. Outside, the forest remained watchful, illuminated by the silver moon. And somewhere, not far away, a warm, glowing magic flickered in the darkness, waiting.

---

### Author’s Note and Next Steps

- **Tone & Style**: This draft sets a slightly moody, introspective tone for Elara. If you prefer something lighter or more fast-paced, we can adjust the prose accordingly.  
- **Chapter Hook**: The chapter ends on a note of mystery—Elara finds a silver strand of hair and senses an unusual presence. This naturally leads into the next chapter, where we introduce Rhys’s perspective.  
- **Word Count**: The chapter is under 2,000 words, fitting within your 3,000-word limit.  
- **Further Development**: In subsequent edits, you might want to deepen Elara’s internal conflict, add more sensory details, or foreshadow the looming threat.  

Feel free to revise or let me know if you’d like any changes. When you’re ready, we can move on to Chapter 2, or refine Chapter 1 further until you’re happy with it. Enjoy writing!

*******************************BREAK BACK TO ME*******************************

I mean, it's not the worst I've ever read, but why the desire to insert all the bold subheadings is beyond me. What novel does that?

As you can see, it gives a basic idea of where the story might go, but we're moving awfully quickly through the narrative, and there are a ton of descriptors in there I'd, personally, remove. It would take me as long to do rewrites/edits on this as it would to write it myself, in my voice. My voice is nice. I adore the tone I have. My readers love it.

Now, could I train it to write like me by feeding it tons of my writing? Sure, kind of. It would probably help, but I'd prefer to spend that time writing. If you're a new writer, I could see how it would be a good assistant, but there again, you need to find your own voice and use it.

I know this post was LONG, and I appreciate you hanging with me this long. Again, we're only testing what each of these gives when you're new to all this. No deep dives here. I forgot to mention it above, but a lot of these things limit your usage to so many outputs/words before you have to buy more, and if the AI is lacking in its ability, that could end up costing you a lot of money. 

You all know me! I love free. :) The cheaper it is with better function, the more I like it. ha!

Well, that's all for today, folks!

Until next time, WRITE ON!

Jo

AI and Writing - A Series of Looks Inside: Part One

Oh my goshness! Hello, good people of the blogosphere. I'm going to discuss something that's been discussed to death: AI and writers using AI. We're specifically talking generative AI here, but there are a ton of writing helpers that have been using one form of AI or another for a long time. We'll get into those as we go along, but today, I'll try to do some explaining on how LLMs work. If you already know, feel free to skip to the next post (if it's up). If it's not, wait two days, and I'll have moved on to examining the tools.

When AI first hit the market, I was as flummoxed as everyone else. I had trepidation, but I stood back and watched rather than freak out, and I learned as much as humanly possible about the way it works. I watched videos, did shallow dives, and did deep dives, which I emerged from in a much more confused state than when I went in.

I know, right? UGH. BUT THEN!

I was on the phone with one of my children (one that happens to be a computer genius, and I don't use that word lightly) when I lamented my lack of understanding. She proceeded to explain it to me. Only, she was using computer terminology.

Me: "Okay. You're adorable, but I can't understand a single word coming out of your mouth."

Her: "Hmmm... Well, how would you understand it?"

Me: "Pretend I'm a small child with only a basic understanding of the English language and know nothing about computers."

Her: *thinks for a minute then laughs like a loon* "I think I know how to help you understand."

Me: "Hit me with it."

And that's how I came to understand how a Large Language Model (LLM) works. Let me see if I can explain it the same way. If you're confused when I'm done, please drop me a comment below, and I'll do my level best to get you articles that might help.

Imagine you're a small child learning how to speak. You tune in to your parents, the TV, books, and every other thing that'll talk to you. As time goes on and you consume more information, you learn how to construct a basic sentence.

Example:

Mom always asks if you want more food.

Eventually, you understand to say, "I want more food." You understand this by hearing Dad say those same words in the same order. Mom rewards him with more food. However, the possessive I is something you learn from listening to TV and being corrected. Most babies would say, "Me want more food." Right? It's only through repetition of hearing it in the correct order when you begin to understand it's not me; it's I. Make sense?

Now, imagine you have a vast network of text to learn from because you can't hear (not speaking about the hearing impaired, they learn in other ways). You learn word B comes after word A in a typical sentence because after examining literally thousands of sentences, that word is the one that comes next most often. Word C comes after word B most often, so that's the one you use next. Then, you use word D, putting it all together to convey your idea.

I want more food.

On a much larger scale, this is how LLMs work. They're not smart, and they're not aware; they just have a vast amount of text that tells them what word most commonly follows the first in any conversation. Some of them pull from websites and give you a summary using the exact same method, but they're not regurgitating lines word for word, nor do they steal your words and give them to someone else.

It's highly unlikely you're constructing sentences in the exact way hundreds of other people are, so the likelihood your exact structure and prose would be used by an LLM is about a billion to one.

I can hear you being skeptical. Let's go for one more example.

I create a small language model using text from Bob, Lia, Dot, and Steve. Here's what they give me when I ask, "How do you get ready in the morning?"

Bob: I start by getting out of bed, having coffee, and taking a shower. Then, I brush my teeth and get dressed for the day.

Lia: My mornings start with me having coffee and watching TV. I tend to rush around feeding the animals and sit down to play a game or two after about half an hour. Once I'm relaxed, I get dressed and start to sort out what's for dinner.

Dot: I get up, shower, eat breakfast, brush my teeth, and get dressed.

Steve: I roll out of bed and fall into some clothes before rushing out the door and driving an hour to the office.

From those few responses, my language model would "probably" return something along the lines of: I get out of bed, brush my teeth, and get dressed.

Because those are the most common denominators in the text. Hell, it might not even be able to answer the question based on those limited responses and it not having enough reference material to use.

See how it's not the same but contains the general elements of the other items?

That is how an LLM works, folks. It's not smart enough to pull sentences out of thin air. So now, when you see people freaking out about their words being used to train an LLM, you can just smile and move on.

So, for this series! We'll be looking at the following apps/helpers, and I'll do my best to ask them all the same things/insert the same prompts to see how each one responds.

• ChatGPT
• Sudowrite
• Jasper AI (turned out to be a marketing AI - dropped from list)
  
• Grammarly (simply a word and syntax checker - dropped from list)
• Squibler
• Hyperwrite
• Rytr
• Copy.ai
• Type.ai
• ProWritingAid
• Claude
• Shortly AI
• Anyword
• Quillbot

I'll pepper in some posts about other things as we go to break up the monotony of a series, and those programs that don't have a free test feature won't be studied. This is just what I could find when I did a quick search. These will be updated with links to the individual posts.

Anyone who uses AI to 100% write a book and does no editing is an ID10T because of the very thing I explained above. However, they can sometimes pull someone out of a funk or help with a sticky spot in a plot (which is how most authors I've interacted, who use AI, use it). 

What AI can't do is generate large amounts of text and it be original. It'll sound dull and robotic (because it is). You can't just plug in a plot and get a good book. Period. So, let's see what these programs can do. If you don't want or need to use any of these, that's fine. Please just move along. :)

One of my biggest challenges will be with the prompts. Authors I know who use AI at all spend literal hours on their prompts then edit the hell out of the text. It's a helper, and IF you're going to use it, that's how it should be used.

I hope you're all looking forward to this. I'm interested to try them! Maybe I'll be disappointed. Maybe you'll find a tool that does exactly what you're looking for (which isn't writing an entire novel for you). We'll see!

Fingers crossed you all enjoyed this post and are stoked about trying stuff.

That's all for today, folks!

Until next time, WRITE ON!

Jo

Bluesky Social

Good morning, and happy Monday, good people of the blogosphere! Today, we're talking about Bluesky, the Twitter replacement. This little app that could has over twenty-one million users as of now, probably due to the mass exodus of X (the app formerly known as Twitter). We'll dive into all the ways it's similar to the Twitter of old, and I'll show you a few things you might not have known about. Ready? Get cozy, grab a cup of coffee, and let's get going!

So, Bluesky. What is it? Where did it come from? How can you use it? What are the awesome features it has that you may not know about? How can you sign up? These are the questions we'll answer today. If you happen to have other questions, feel free to drop them in the comments, and I'll do my level best to find out for you.

What is Bluesky?

Well, it's a mobile and web app that's rather like the Twitter of old. You can post short, to-the-point sentences and use hashtags or media to enhance said post. You can create specific feeds, follow and block, and even send DMs.

Where the heck did Bluesky come from?

According to Britannica, it's actually been around a long time (since 2019), but it's only recently (2023) become available to the public. It's biggest growth happened last year when Twitter changed its name to X and the CEO changed the company's direction. X is being changed to an "everything" platform, while Bluesky will continue to be more like Twitter (but with differences). Add to that, Bluesky is open source, meaning you can tweak it. More on that later...

Is anyone else bored with these answers? I am. Let's get into the fun stuff.

Sign up by clicking here. It's super easy and only takes a few minutes. You can also download the app for iPhone or Android, so you can use it on your phone. Once you do that, you'll be able to navigate to settings:

As you can see, you have options to change quite a few things:

• Add another account
• Account
  
• Privacy and security
• Moderation
• Content and media
• Appearance
• Accessibility
• Languages

You also have the ever-needed Help and About sections.

• Add another account - This allows you to have another handle (username) with a different email address.
• Account - If you click this one, you can change your password, birthday, etc.
• Privacy and security - You can enable two-factor authentication (recommended), and prevent users of the app from seeing you when they're logged out. Because it's an open-source platform, other apps may still be able to see your profile. Just click it and do some reading/exploring.
• Moderation - This option is rather vast, so I suggest checking it out and getting into the nitty gritty, but on a basic level, you can hide nudity (artistic--other nudity isn't allowed), block, or select keywords to unsee.
• Content and media - Manage saved feeds (more in a minute), allow auto-play for other apps, and get down in the nuts and bolts of your follow feed. This app lets you create your own experience, so learning how to use all these things can only help you.
• Appearance - Choose your color mode, size of the text (yay!), theme (dark/light), and font here.
• Accessibility - Alt texts requirements. This is for folks who use a reading app for sites. It tells them what the image is as a descriptor.
• Languages - You can choose from a bajillion languages for your feed, the app, and your content.

When you click your profile from the menu on the left:

 You'll see these options:

That partially hidden one is Lists.

This is your stuff. Your posts, replies, media, etc. HOWEVER, this is where you can have some fun! If you click on Feeds, you'll see only posts from the feeds (#) you've chosen. If you'd like to add Feeds to this section, click Feeds in the menu on the left and make some choices. Just click the + icon at the left of the feed to add it to your list. Very cool, right?

Let's go a little deeper.

If I click on the Artists: Trending feed, this is the first post:

and if I click on that, I get this:

It tells you exactly how to join and participate in that feed. There's a TON more information on that page, so scroll down and read!

Now, let's go into how you start your own kind of community. If you click on Starter Pack, it allows you to either have one begun for you or for you to create one yourself. You name it, add stuff, and invite people.

Last, but certainly not least, you can make yourself Lists. This is a throwback from Twitter, and I had a ton of lists there so I could only see the people I wanted to see. To add someone to a list, first create a new list by clicking Lists on the menu on the left, then click the three dots on the person's profile page who you'd like to add, select add to Lists, and then choose which list you'd like them on.

Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

There are a ton of things you can do with Bluesky as a developer, but most people I know just want to see what they want to see, so this quicky walked you through that. You can add apps on the platform to do other things, and if you're into that, by all means... This is just what I could reasonably fit into a single blog post. :)

I hope this post helps you get the most out of your Bluesky experience and that you enjoyed the read! :D

Also, if you'd like to connect on Bluesky, I'm here.

That's all for today, folks! Until next time, WRITE ON!

Jo

Look! I'm back again.

Hello, good people of the blogosphere! Welcome. I'm back, it's a Friday, and the weekend is looming. Today, I'm just gonna talk about whatever, and next week, I'm gonna work on a schedule for all the writerly advice. There are so many new things out there to get in on, and so much that's gone away, I really need to do a bit of a deep dive before I start talking out my azz.

As I said on Wednesday, I'm trying to get back in the habit of sitting down and writing, so showing up twice this week is my idea of a start. :)

Did any of you know I started a YouTube channel? I may or may not have posted about it here, but I don't "think" I did? I'll have to go look...

I did! Link: http://jomichaels.blogspot.com/2020/08/baking-cooking-and-recipe-submissions.html

Anyway, I plan to start making videos again once I get myself moved. All that should be happening in May-ish. I already have a video schedule I can follow, and on the plus side, y'all will get to see a lot more of my grandchildren! I did a video when my eldest granddaughter was still very young (we made turkey cupcakes), and I just know she'll be down to do some more. I have a lot to teach her. :)

My new kitchen is just as fabulous as the one I have now, with the addition of a butcher block countertop, so bread making should be a lot easier. Granite is kind of a PITA when it comes to bread and pasta because of the cooler temperature of the surface... Blah, blah, blah.

Would you believe the spammers have already started again in the comments section? That's so annoying. I need them to stop. OH! And on the topic of commenters...

That last post I wrote here forever ago saying I was giving up because someone was being an azz? I don't even remember the comment the troll made, so it's not bothering me any longer. Yay. Hopefully, they stay away.

I know I'm all over the place right now, but look, I haven't been here for a while, and I'm not really sure what my focus is today except being here. Period. I'm literally just writing.

Anyway, I'll see you all next week, and I promise I'll have direction! No more rambling.

Until next time, WRITE ON!

Jo

Uh... Wow. What's Going on With this Blog?

Long freaking time no see, eh? I'm thinking of doing a little revival here because I need the habit of writing to come back and sit with me again. After 2020, things got a bit crazy for me. If you read my post from that year, you'll know a lot happened, but the blows just kept coming.

• My second-eldest son died.
• My mother died.
• My hubby changed jobs.
• I changed jobs.
• My art exploded (if there's one positive thing about grief...).
• We decided to move this year (after renovations--Lort help us all).
• I got five new pets, and I've lost four of them--the one hitting the hardest was the first one I got. She was the goodest girly and was very special to me.
• I haven't been able to write novels.

All that being said (typed?), I'm trying my darndest to come back. I have my last author conference this coming April (Authors Rock Roanoke), and after that, we move. I'm hoping to get back to some semblance of a routine once the dust settles.

Also! If any of you read Recipe for Redemption by TJ Kelly, a collab with Tia, Kelly, and myself, you'll be excited to know we've officially finished book two and are moving on to the editing stage! Yay! I think our title for book 2 is: Recipe for Redemption 2: Izzy's Story. After we get this one published, we're going on to Frankie. ;) I just have two more recipes to add to book two: Gluten-free Corn Cookies and Corn Cakes. Hey, it's set in Iowa. No shade. It will, however, have a hushpuppy recipe in it that's TO. DIE. FOR. So freaking yum.

I'm hoping to have copies at Roanoke, so if you're into RfR and would like some free recipe cards (and maybe the second book?), tickets for the event are only $5, and you can get them at the link above.

I have to say, I'm so grateful for those two ladies. We've continued our tradition of a yearly trip together after 2020, and those have given me something to look forward to while helping me hold on to the small thread of sanity I have left.

Did I say sanity? Not even sure what that means any longer, but here we are!

Moving on...

I'm still editing and formatting, and one of my clients is releasing the last in a series soon, so I'll be back with details once that happens.

Hold out hope I can keep going with the blog. If I can, it'll mean new books are coming soon. I have a number of them mostly written, so it shouldn't be long before they're done. Book three in my Guerrilla Grannies series, and book two in the Angels and Vampires series. Again, both are nearly done, but when I had things start to go south, they really took me off my path. I also have a cult book I plan to release sometime this year. It's also about two chapters from conclusion but has no definitive cover yet, BUT the handbook has a loose cover, and I'll show it below. I had a difficult time finding the motivation to finish any of these things. Seeing as I'm here now, it's a positive thing. Cross your fingers!

I have to include some of the pretty things in this post for you all to look at, so here you go!

Until next time, WRITE ON!

Jo