Signed Cover Art

If you'd like to receive a signed cover art postcard, email me at isobael at gmail dot com. Include your name and mailing address and I'll get them in the mail to you.

March 3, 2017


Took the dogs out this morning to do some running in the hunting field, sans bird. Athena had a blast chasing a cottontail into the brambles, but ultimately, the bunny escaped. We don't was just to get Athena out and keeping her up on the flushing and chasing.

I think I finished chapter two. Still well below the 2200 word count I'm shooting for (it's currently at about 1600 words), but it ended at a good spot, establishing some background and motives. Now, to start on chapter three.

I think I'm the type of writer that does better without plotting and outlining. I didn't do it with my first book, and after false starts and eventually writer's block when I tried to plot and outline, I'm finding the "JUST WRITE!" philosophy works best for me. I have a general idea of what I want the chapter and the book to be about, the general plot, but for the most part, I like to be surprised with the twists and turns that come from head to fingertips to computer.

I'm still debating whether or not to try and publish the story I'm writing now, or post it to share, and use it as practice. If I do post it, it will be in its most raw form, unedited, because I don't want to take the time to edit it.

February 6, 2017

Social Anxiety Sucks

Social anxiety sucks.

It reduces you to feeling you aren't good enough, you aren't friend material, you're easily ignored, forgotten, that no one cares what you think, feel, or say. It puts you in a corner to watch the world have fun, but you're in "time out" and not allowed to partake of it.

It makes you feel incredibly selfish, in the way that everything seems to be "about you". When friends no longer contact you, it's your fault. You must have done something wrong. You must have said something wrong. It tears at your self confidence, if you had any to begin with. I'm not good enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not rich enough.

It makes you stop trying to extend a hand in friendship, or to help others, or contribute to the conversations, or attend gatherings, because no one seems to take the hand, or acknowledge your presence, or allow, or invite you... So you withdraw. You think, "I'll be fine by myself, I don't need them" or "I can't ask for one ever answers, or hears me" or "What's the point of going? I'll just be alone and ignored the whole time." Then, people begin to call you names, think the worst of you. "She's a snob...she doesn't come to any gatherings" or "She never socializes with us. She must think she's better than us."

All the while, you just want a crumb of kindness, a small gesture of friendship. You just want to join in on the conversations, or go to that outing and be greeted with more than some fake, polite smile and blank, unwelcome look...or worse...the not so subtle retreat from your direction.

Social anxiety sucks.