Quick Rising From Ashes Update!

I just wanted to throw up a quick news flash that RISING FROM ASHES: EMPIRE OF BLOOD BOOK THREE is now available for Nook pre-order on Barnes & Noble for the special pre-order price of only $2.99! That is all for now, if you're looking for news about the Kindle pre-order you can find that here! I'm getting really pumped about finally dropping the last book in the trilogy! Can't wait to share this book with you guys! Until next time...

Couch To 5K Plan: Week 3-ish... Or Is it Week 4 Now? Who Fucking Knows...

I've been very liberally following this plan for a number of weeks now. It's hard to keep track as I've just been walking eight out of ten days regardless and jogging every other day without any two day breaks like the plan calls for. The first week, I mostly followed the schedule, which I shared in my last Cto5K post, however, I threw in a few extra two to three minute jogs here and there as I mentioned in said post. I thought that was just the greatest thing because, while it exhausted me, it didn't make me feel like I was going to die or anything. HA!

The second week, the first day I did the initial walking, then three minutes of jogging, then walked a good ten minutes more then jogged for four and that's where I really started to feel something. That four minutes wasn't just, "Yay, this is easy, I can do this! Woo hoo!" and mystery confetti fell from the sky as a crowd of anonymous cheery folks in jogging suits greeted me with applause...

No... it was more like, "Holy fuck, I have to stop, I can't breathe, I need to stop, I can't breathe--MY LEGS! MY FUCKING LEGS! HOLY SHIT, MY LEGS!" The last minute seemed to stretch on for the rest of my life. Every little bit would pass and my lungs would feel like they were going to burst or my leg would give an extra painful twitch and I'd have to tell myself, "Don't stop, mother fucker... don't do it. Just keep going, asshole." And as miserably cliche as it may sound, I finally got a glimpse of what it means to have to dig deep within yourself and instead of pulling out a rabbit or perhaps an old shoe, you have to pull out determination and really push when you feel like you can't push any goddamn more.

What it really comes down to is that it's easy for me to do four or five two-to-three minute jogs, but what really matters most in this race is endurance and when you do one or two longer jogs, that's when your lungs (or at least my motherfucking lungs for goddamn sure!) really start to feel it (FUCK YOU VERY MUCH, PHILIP MORRIS!).

For some of you, that may sound pathetic, but you know what? That's where I'm at. That's what I've gotten myself into after years of sitting at a desk and not seriously consistently putting any care into my body... And of course twenty plus years of smoking probably didn't help either. To be even more fair, I haven't done this much jogging since I was in my early teens. I was smoking by the time I was 13 years old for fuck-sake and by the time I did my Senior finals for gym class, I was dead last in the class when we had to run.

Dead. Fucking. Last!

And while I did get plenty of exercise in my years of singing live on stage, by the time I was 23 or so, that was mostly behind me, save for the few shows I did with Kobayashi in 2008-ish.

Anyway... I digress... On the next day of Jog Til You Drop, I planned to do three minutes and then four like I had before and that three minutes nearly waylaid my lungs, so I had to walk the rest after that. And then the next day I was supposed to jog, I let myself get distracted with other stuff and didn't go. Mind you, as I've said... most days I had been walking on my off days, the days the program says to rest. I don't know if my body is in bad shape to the point that I should have been doing more rest in between or not. Or if that's even how this shit really works... However, this week, I'm resting between days instead.

The first day, I did my walking, then four minutes jogging, and then a short couple-minute jog. Today, day two of this week--which if I'm counting right puts me at week three after all--I walked, did a two minute jog, walked some more, then moved up to a five minute jog. So, while I'm three weeks in and behind on the overall numbers, I at least feel like I'm getting more on track.

So... that's where I'm at with the Couch to5K plan for now...

I suppose while I'm on here, I should mention that I also deactivated my Facebook account today. On one end, I've been spending entirely too much time on Facebook lately and that's completely fucked my productivity in a number of areas. For two, it's a source of a lot of stress that I can certainly do without for at least a little while, if not for the long term.

For three, I'm seeing maybe 50% of the posts I'd like to be seeing, if not less than that. Especially if you count in pages for things like bands, authors, publishers, and what not. In place of real (virtually real?) human interaction, Facebook has slowly evolved into a network that makes you feel like it's normal to spend all of your goddamn time reading and sharing memes that span the gamut from braindead bigoted attacks to  heartfelt emotional pick-me-up quotes, arguing about politics, or arguing about just about any other fucking thing that could possibly and even quite improbably end up being argued about.


Here's a reminder, for those of you who might have forgotten:

THAT SHIT ISN'T NORMAL!

So, anyway... all around, it all adds up to one big, middle finger poking me in the face every time I get on there.

That said, I'm still on Google +, Tsu, and Twitter. So, if you want to keep up with more of my day-to-day bullshit, along with posting more on my blog, I'll still be on those social networks until they too become a problem... (which I don't foresee happening anytime soon...at least... I hope). For now, however, I must rest... eat... and shower! Until next time... completely random Bob time... completely random Bob channel... err, something...

Doth Me Smell the Scents of Autumn? And Perhaps a Sale, Too? Aye!

The weather is cooling off some and the days are dropping away until my favorite time of the year! Even if Halloween wasn't smack in the middle of the best goddamn season on Earth, I would probably still love absolutely everything about Fall. Bonfires, the grim look of bare trees, that crisp smell in the air, the dry blanket of fallen leaves covering the ground, the earthen aromas of harvest crops and burning wood, that sense of cozy ethereal ambiguity that seems to somehow tow the line between the natural and the impossibly supernatural...

Oh yeah...

Sorry.

I'm still here. Promise. Just got carried away for a moment there.

And of course... there's the fact that Halloween is in the Fall that greedily squirts out the proverbial icing on the (pumpkin-flavored) cake! Ah... Halloween. I loved it before I'd even read my first horror story. But post-horror fiction love? It's like, for one month a year, this big huge rocky globe kicks back (err... tilts?) and says, "Ah... It's that time again. Time to motherfucking ROCK!"

And so in celebration of this beautiful and fine goddamn season, I've dropped the prices on all of my eBooks (that aren't already free) down to a measly 99 cents EVERYWHERE! Kindle? 99 cents or less. Nook? 99 cents or less. Kobo? 99 mother-loving, kickass cents or less! iBooks/Apple/Whatever-the-Fuck-You-Call it? Hell yeah, man! 99 cents or less! Google Play? Oh fuck yeah! 99 hard-earned, Abraham Lincoln-engraved, shiny, imaginary-because-we're-talking-eBooks-here cents or less! And yeah, Smashwords and all those other places where supposedly people also buy eBooks too. So, if there's an RSW title you've had your eye on... now's the time. And if you've got them all and you enjoy them well (or at least a little bit), you have my hearty thanks(!) and if by chance you'd be so kind as to share the good news with your friends, family, dogs, cats, dolphins, or any other aquatic, anthropomorphic, or geometric pets you may have, that would be the cherry on top of my already-lathered-with-icing pumpkin-flavored MEGACAKE!

And for those who are asking themselves:

"Why did I click on this link?"

Or "Who the hell is Robert S. Wilson, anyway?"

Or "What the fuck kind of shameless self-promotion bullshit is this?"

Or "Holy shit, man, calm down, it's still hot as motherfucking Mount Doom out there!"

I would just like to take this moment to thank you for reading my humble post here and for not sending me hate letters threatening me to go away and hide in my Squash-Covered Cave of Uber Autumn-Love in the woods "OR ELSE!"...

So, without further ado, I bid thee farewell and a Happy HOLY SHIT IS IT FALL YET ALREADY?!?!?

Couch to 5k Plan: Take Two!

So... for those of you in shape, this might be an eye roll moment, but fuck all if I care. I've been doing a loose interpretation of the Couch to 5K deal for about a week now (this is my second run at it, actually. I first tried it about two years ago and utterly crashed and burned...) and doing the little bit, here, little bit there, yay rah, whatever. But last night, me and the fam stopped at the park for a walk and I planned to do like the plan suggests: walking somewhere around five or so minutes and then jogging two or three and then switching back to walking etc.

Anyhow, we start walking and at first, I didn't even feel like dragging one foot in front of the other. But after a while, once my legs were in a rhythm, not so bad. So I did my jogging. Didn't really time it but chose a landmark to jog to and stuck with it, probably about a couple minutes, maybe more. Then we walked some more... Then I jogged another minute or so. Then some more walking. Rinse, repeat, etc.

Probably sounds like the dumbest fucking thing evar, but a week ago... I couldn't have fucking done that to save my life. I probably jogged a good five or six times, including the last little bit back to the car--long after my legs felt like jello. For me... now a days... that's phenomenal. And I'm keeping that shit up, sticking with the gradual (but maybe not quite as gradual as the program suggests) rise in workout length. I guess it's just been a while since I had any hope that this old overweight body could ever have a chance again to be anything else... Which doesn't suck. Doesn't suck at all.

My advice, if you're in a position like me and should decide to try this... don't let yourself get discouraged if the first day feels really hard. And don't forget to stretch before each exercise, especially if your muscles are as out of wack as mine are from sitting at a desk way too much of the time.

Open for Editing Clients!

It's that time again, ladies and gentlemen. I have some openings for editing clients available. I am a Bram Stoker Award-nominated editor who has worked with brand new writers all the way up to international bestselling and award-winning authors. So far three of the novels I have edited for Nightscape Press have been nominated for the Bram Stoker Award, two of which have gone on to win the award, while another novella took home a This Is Horror award.

I now charge on a sliding scale based on the difficulty of work needed from as little as $5.00 per thousand words on up to $15.00 per thousand words. At those rates, a full length 80,000 word novel could cost you as little as $400. And I do a free sample edit of up to five pages depending on the length of the project.

What that means is, while going over your sample, I apply my edits and notes in track changes and give an overall critique just as I do with a complete manuscript I've been commissioned to work on. If the sample shows that you have a strong understanding of prose and the mechanics of storytelling, my fee will tend toward the lower end of the scale because it will require less work. If the sample shows signs that you need more than that, I provide more than that, including more detailed notes, a more thorough critique, and a separate document of extensive notes specifically on your trouble areas. Because of which, I do, unfortunately, have to charge those clients toward the mid to higher level of my scale.

Most of the authors I've worked with have been in the mid to lower scale, but there's nothing to be ashamed of if your technique needs more work. The hardest thing to learn as a writer is how to swallow your pride and start allowing your stories to be truly and critically taken apart. I do that and I also work hard to walk the author through the process of putting their stories back together in the best shape possible, providing a personally tailored and extensive learning process along the way.

If you're interested in working with me, send me an email at rsweditorialservices@gmail.com and we'll make arrangements for me to get started on your free sample edit right away.

Demons Circling: A Scene from RISING FROM ASHES

I know I haven't been the most clear about the release for Rising From Ashes: Empire of Blood Book Three... So first I'd like to clear things up a bit. The book will finally be fully released everywhere in eBook, trade paperback, and hardcover on November 24th.

That established... Going over some scenes from Rising From Ashes this morning, I came upon this one and was compelled to share it with you all. Even if you haven't read either Shining in Crimson or Fading in Darkness, this scene is completely spoiler free. This is the first scene of Chapter 16 which is titled Demons Circling:

***Editorial note: this is still in unfinished draft form, so there are some typos etc.*** 

The thick musty stench of death floated just below Alexandria's nostrils as she sat there on her knees in the back yard of the home she'd grown up in. Dry dirt caked her arms up to her elbows and loose strands of hair hung down in tandem from a large tangled bun at the top of her head. Her eyes were red from having cried for two days straight. But now they were nearly as dry as the dirt on her arms. Before her, beneath piles of sticks and branches, lay her father's body in the shallow grave she had dug out with her own bare hands.

Somewhere in the abyss of the house, a shovel hid and eluded her, but as time had ticked away, it soon became obvious she wasn't in any state of mind to be able to find it and Dad's body wasn't going to get up and take care of itself. Just the thought of that had torn through her like a jack hammer, but nothing could change that now. There was no one on her side and nowhere she could run. No adult to take care of the hard things that adults had always taken care of in her life. Now she was the adult and the world had landed on her back in the blink of an eye and the blast of a rifle.

The walls she had glued together in her own emotional well were threatening to crack again and she snapped out of the long trance she had fallen into. She would have to cover him over now. Her hands slid at her sides in fresh dirt, accumulating the stuff in her forearms, wishing it was fire she could sweep up into balls and send hurling toward the soldiers who were now standing at the corner of the street watching her and whispering to each other. Her hands gripped deep into the dirt and her fingernails found her palm and started to pierce into the flesh slowly, biting and tearing and focusing her hatred. She gritted her teeth with the pain and the imaginary black poison in her chest waiting to spew out and destroy them.

As the dirt fell over his pale decaying face--a face she couldn't help remember smiling and crying and laughing and yelling and screaming and now it just stared at nothing without emotion or recognition or anything that would give it even the slightest resemblance of being alive--the well cracked open and her tears flooded down again mixing with the dry dirt on her face and becoming an odd sort of mud. Her arms moved of their own accord then, flinging dirt down over that face and working restlessly to cover it and make it go away. And yet she didn't want her last time seeing his face to go away so quickly and so horribly but the choice was no longer hers as her arms shoved forward large piles of dirt and within a few minutes she lay there nearly out of breath over the grave now fully covered. And all she wanted to do was lie there with him forever and never get up.

Rudy's soft and terrified voice crept up over the chirping of insects and the faraway droning of traffic. "Alex?"

The need to sob caught in her throat then and with a great and forced effort she swallowed it, its fire burning her esophogus all the way down. She sat up, pretending the fire enfulfing her stomach wasn't there and in a comforting and steady voice she replied, "Yeah, Rudy, what is it? You okay, buddy?"

Her little brother stood, dirty face and bare feet sticking out of the cracked back porch screen door. "Jeremy said it was Daddy's fault the Emper sojers killed him--that he's gon' go to hell and burn because he didn't believe in the Emper and..." His face screwed up with tears and wailing and the burning in Alexandria's heart stoked with a boiling anguish and hatred.

"Come on, come here, Rudy." Rudy ran out to her, the porch door slamming behind him. When he landed sobbing into Alexandria's arms she hugged him tightly and caressed the top of his head cooing and whispering to him. "Jeremy doesn't know any better, Rudy. He's wrong. The Emperor's not any god that Daddy should have believed in. And it wasn't Daddy's fault those bad men shot him, it's the Emperor's. And if there's a hell, you know just as well as I do, our Daddy doesn't belong there."

When Rudy finally calmed down, she brought him inside the house and had a long talk with Jeremy and when they were done, the three of them came outside and Alexandria took the metal can in her hands, lifted it awkwardly over the bare patch of dirt that covered her father's lifeless body, and began to splash the dry ground with wet oily gasoline. When the bulge of dirt was covered in channels of flowing yellowish red liquid, she set the can aside and started throwing the leaves and grass she had collected over the spot and the two boys began to do the same and within a few minutes it was covered entirely. She took out the small book of matches she had found in a kitchen drawer and pulled one out. Then she kissed her palm and blew the kiss down at the makeshift grave as new tears ran streaming down both sides of her face. And before she had a chance to stop herself she'd lit the match and dropped it.

The whole thing went up in a woosh and a bright flash lighting the dying dusk evening with glowing waves of yellow and orange. Flames danced in Alexandria's moist eyes as she watched the soldiers through the tongues of fire reaching up at random for the sky in crackling cries of spitting spark and thick burning heat. And in the rising smoke of the crude makeshift pyre, Alexandria and her brothers said goodbye to Jamie Ridgemont, the best father they could have ever asked for.

I hope you enjoyed this scene. Keep an eye out for more updates and sneak peeks from Rising from Ashes!