I am so extraordinarily coordinated and spry, I fell on Monday on a completely flat surface without stumbling on anything.

I blame it on a. my ancient overly worn carpet that is practically slippery at this point, and b. my toes being cold.

We had a polar vortex and random bits of snow, and in the middle of the day my bare toes were cold and getting kind of numb, so I went to my room to get slipper socks. I did not put them on then, as I should have, but carted them back to the living room and… *gestures wildly* I’m sure it was a very comical fall.

Initially I thought I broke my foot. I break a lot of characters’ bones for a living, though, so I did an assessment and was pretty sure nothing is actually fractured–not 100% sure, mind you, but sure enough that I’m not going to go to the ER during a global pandemic. Best guess is that I’ve torn something soft tissue related, as there is much(!) pain and cannot put weight on it. And I can’t take any decent OTC anti-inflammatories due to my auto-immune disease.

So. I have a kitchen chair I’m using as a walker and I’m stuck in bed (for a couple of weeks…?). I have to ask for help with groceries. With putting the garbage out. I can’t do laundry (it involves stairs), I can’t do any chores that require standing, I can’t pick up some pre-mixed cocktails for tomorrow’s D&D night, and I am really fucking irritated. Because this is possibly the stupidest way I’ve ever hurt myself–and I once broke a toe running into a cat scratcher–at quite possibly the worst time.

Trying to work from bed is…a thing. I’ve done it before–since I don’t get sick days–and in one case for several months at a time. But having to do it with a throbbing foot, unable to get comfortable, with a laptop being held together with duct tape is…not ideal. I’ve looked at lap desks/trays for bed that could potentially hold the laptop at the right angle but…again, global pandemic! Not putting my mother at risk to run to the post office repeatedly (I don’t have mail delivery to my door) and at the rate things are shipping, nothing will be here to help me now.

To top it all off, I think the apartment is trying to kill me.

Last night loading the dishwasher I almost stabbed myself four times. With the same knife. Today I have tripped twice. I am this close to just dragging myself outside because I feel better equipped to handle the virus than surviving in my own home.

I feel like this might be a Final Destination situation and the fate is trying to correct the timeline by trying to kill me in increasingly improbable, comical ways.

Anyway, Blood Ties is not being delayed after all and will release on June 2–up for preorder everywhere and the paperback is shipping. So there’s that. At this rate it might be the only thing I get done this year.

“Become a writer!” they said. “It’ll be FUN!” they said.*

Barnes & Noble is going to be late paying us for February sales.

I distribute through third parties, and one of them is taking out a line of credit to pay us all anyway. The other, I have no idea.

That is…concerning nonetheless, and I do not share D2D’s believe that B&N will come through. There is little excuse for the portion of sales due to go to authors to be tied up somehow–that money is OURS, not theirs, and this reeks of robbing Peter to pay Paul, and we’re all going to get screwed. I don’t buy the “sorry, we don’t have the money that we never should’ve spent because it’s yours” excuse when publisher pull it, when stores pull it–when ANYONE pulls it. And I’m still salty over All Romance eBooks closing and owing me money.

My backlist books are still at Nook for now. I’ve taken Blood Ties off of preorder there, however, and even when this gets sorted out, I will think long and hard about offering on Nook again. Nook uses epub format, so if you’re a Nook reader you can still buy epub direct from me, or my books are DRM free so should still be able to manage if you buy elsewhere.

I always endeavored to have my books available everywhere possible in as many formats as I can, for readers’ ease of use, but when I don’t get paid, I cannot continue to publish. I have no suggestions for a solution that readers can utilize–I can’t say “don’t shop at B&N” because I’m sure putting them out of business is going to guarantee we NEVER get paid, but at the same time know that there is no guarantee your money is going to authors or publishers if you buy there.

Speaking of not getting paid…

As mentioned, I had a sharp drop off in sales in October for Livi books. Up until that point, Livi books were about the only works of mine selling on Amazon at all. The sudden drop coincided with a sharp piracy spike on a popular channel and I’ve never recovered on Amazon.

In terms of writing income, everything for the past few months has been coming from Kobo and Patreon. Yes, I also freelance, but taking on more freelance means doing more freelance work, therefore less writing. So it’s crucial to have that regular writing-related income to guarantee I’ll have something to eventually publish (thereby bringing in more writing income, so I can write more, etc).

I’ve been in a super vulnerable position for a while now, basically.

You have to hustle as a writer. I’m constantly looking at what I can do–new channels, new opportunities, new avenues to explore–vs what I reasonably have the time and ability to do. And it’s always time and ability–I can’t afford ads or to throw money into the black hole of marketing, literally everything counts down to the penny at Chez Skyla.

“I know!”I thought last month. “I’ll finally kick out one of those series starter boxsets! New cover for it, formatting. I’ll do Kindle only so people can read free with KU, and maybe I’ll get some page views, which’ll be a few more pennies and do a countdown deal next month!” Maybe more people would check out the rest of the books, maybe not, but I was hoping with the pandemic those with a Kindle Unlimited subscription would have another option to read and I might make an extra twenty or thirty bucks for the month with enough pages read.

I didn’t expect to actually sell copies–this would not appeal to existing readers, the books have been out a number of years.

And I was surprised when someone said she was preordering it–and that a preorder actually showed up.

That was it, by the way. One preorder. One sale. One.

Not exaggerating. ONE. 1. A single copy. More than I thought!

…As soon as it was released, the book appeared on a piracy site.

When literally only one copy had sold.** Zero page views indicating anyone had borrowed in KU.

I strongly prefer to believe that either there’s some loophole that allowed a pirate to download a copy free without showing on my dashboard…or that the person who said they’d preordered simply lied and that single copy that was uploaded for thieves to take is someone else entirely.

Otherwise that means she followed me for three weeks and was aware that a. I live in poverty, b. I had a severe mental health breakdown recently, and c. I RESCUE BABY KITTENS, yet still chose to distribute my work to hundreds of people anyway. And that would make that person a some kind of psychopath completely devoid of empathy and feeling.

Or perhaps someone sharing her account did this cruel thing, in which case I certainly hope she confronts them and gets them to remove the files (which I’ve had no luck with).

I am at such a loss.

So Amazon royalties are nil, Kobo–my main source–dropped a lot this month, B&N isn’t paying, Apple royalties are always hit or miss. Now daily I brace to have patrons drop as everyone is out of money, and I’m battling not just one book on a piracy site but a bundle of three–which means THREE SERIES folks will now be requesting the sequels for.

I don’t know why I talk about this.

The burden for supporting books is already on the folks who do care, and I hate that they have to listen to me bitch when they’re already doing all the right things. The folks who are apparently psychopaths and don’t care probably get off on the idea that some books will never be written and series will continue to be cancelled because…I don’t know what other purpose could be served by directly harming someone by stealing their labour.

I think I talk because it’s not healthy to keep up the veil of secrecy about writing and publishing. I wish that books were magical things that sprang forth fully formed, that we live on air, that the most important thing is being read, that bills don’t exist and time is infinite, that everything could be the excitement of cover reveals and new releases and wow they’re making my book into a movie!

That’s not how it works. That’s not how any of it works. Every moment is filled with breathless vulnerability, any positive event tempered by knowing how precarious a good position is.

And I think I also talk because I still believe in a person’s potential to do better.

I believe there is always the chance someone will look at their actions and make the hard choice to do what is right instead of what is easy. Or, at the very least, to remind folks that often we know who you are and that eventually, I believe, if you flout not only the law but what is morally right, you will one day be made to pay for it.

Not gonna lie, though, I am tired of people like me feeling forced to expose our financial vulnerability and perform our poverty in the hopes of garnering the empathy of those who steal from us. It shouldn’t be necessary to beg to be treated like a human being deserving of fair compensation for our labour that folks want to steal.

I do not care if folks don’t want to read my books. No one is entitled to readers–if you see the cover, read the jacket copy, and decide it’s not for you? Cool.

But clearly people do want to read them because every single day I have to deal with people on piracy forums and sites asking for them. Every single day I see a string of new hits in my site stats looking for illegal copies. Those taking are stealing my labour, which is unacceptable. Even those selling my books apparently want to steal my labour.

Anyway, if you’re getting through this pandemic with entertainment–movies, books, music–please find a way of getting it legally, and ensure others in your sphere are as well. Spotify’s not great but at least artists consent to having their music there; if you can’t afford a bunch of streaming services, cancel one and pay for another; if you want books to read, try Scribd or Kindle Unlimited for a low monthly fee, contact your local library online, or search for the myriad of copies being given away legally by creators.

If you have an extra dollar a month–and believe me, I understand in this climate you might not–you can join my monthly patrons. Next month they get a new Livi excerpt…

…which I’m back to struggling with. Revisions were in progress but I had to close the doc this week with everyone going on. Besides, I have a mountain of freelance work.

Publishing is fun!

*Actually no one said that.

**A handful of other sales came in later, when I talked about the theft, so if you’re reading this thinking “Hey I bought a copy and I didn’t upload it, she must be wrong or exaggerating”–no, I know a couple of others sold after it was already pirated, thanks.

I’m feeling better, slowly, and I think this week will be more productive than the rest of April, but I’ve been picking apart why I had such a sharp turn downward seemingly out of nowhere when the current state of things really isn’t affecting me much.(1)

I like to pick things apart and I analyze everything well past the point of what’s healthy, probably, but it’s a long-time ingrained survival mechanism for me: over-analyzing refines my ability to predict, which gives a (false) sense of control. The brain is fascinating in how it develops these strategies to survive trauma while it’s still forming in a child, which then informs how we approach everything in the world as adults.

Trauma is a response, not an event, and that response imprints on us. I read(2) about trauma and recovery a lot (to analyze, to understand, to predict–as I said), and the body remembers on all levels. It remembers, in part, as an attempt to prevent it from happening again.

I think I was already primed for a downward spiral as I had to go off a particular supplement I was on for a few weeks due to the pandemic (I’ve since started back up, and there’ll be an adjustment period). That affected my brain chemistry, and when I hit stressors in April, I couldn’t handle it. Shawn’s injury, in particular–even though it was benign, ultimately, the way he howled in pain and stared at me seemed to trigger a light-up of all those previously carved pathways of trauma in my brain from when Dinah went into distress and died two years ago. It didn’t matter that it was a different cat and different circumstances, my brain reacted like Dinah was dying again.

It’s helped, as well, to research and understand the collective trauma response to the pandemic. I’m finding some of my behaviors are similar to that of burnout, even though I don’t consider myself burnt out right now, but it all comes from the same place: the brain’s attempt to protect itself. The escalating stream of bad news and the sheer enormity of it, combined with others’ anxieties I encounter and manage, seems to be coming together to trigger my brain to go into protective mode–even though I don’t, personally, feel like I’m in any danger. Many responses right now come down to versions of the fight/flight/freeze modes.

With parts of the brain shutting down to go into survival mode, I waver between being irritable and on the verge of tears (needing to fight when there’s nothing TO actively fight), to unfocused and unsettled (as if I’m trying to flee), to being stuck and unable to DO anything with diminished cognitive function and inability to make decisions (as if I’m frozen). Like my mind has just gone “Nope! Nope nope NOPE!” to everything, I haven’t even been able to prepare meals. I’ve noped out of work because I can’t multitask and everything makes me cry. I’ve noped out of talking to people. I’ve noped out of any responsibility that will involve a discussion (I can’t handle any arguing). And no amount of tricks and pushing can make the brain work when it’s gone into protective/survival mode.

All this is so the brain can conserve energy and deal with the danger but, as previously established, our amygdala hasn’t evolved past uselessly screaming BEAR in our ear over and over again.

When there’s nothing to fight back against, when you can’t actually flee to the Yukon and live off the land (notlikeI’vebeenactivelyplanningthat *cough*), that tension has to release somehow (like a nervous breakdown!). The anxiety has to go somewhere, and you can only process trauma when you have distance.

The only way out is through.

In a culture that praises sleep-deprivation and overworking, that falsely tells us not being productive is the worst moral failing, it’s hard to remember to listen to the body and rest. That might mean eating Kraft Dinner every day for three weeks because choosing/planning meals and preparing them is too much. It might mean, yes, lying in the fetal position under a weighted blanket for hours listening to Angelo Badalamenti. It might mean putting on Pretty Little Liars for the seventh time from the beginning because offering your brain low-stakes crap that won’t surprise it allows it room to relax.

It definitely means kindness and forgiveness. For ourselves and for others, as we all do our best in extraordinary circumstances when the brain doesn’t necessarily cooperate with what we want it to do. It’s helped me to remember that things right now are not my fault, and the weight of self-blame on my shoulders won’t make it easier to stand up and move again.

We’ll come out the other side again, eventually, if we just keep going.

(1) Other than typical economic concern–book sales are dipping even further and I don’t have a lot of work scheduled beyond June. If you cannot afford books right now, I get that, but please do not steal them or I will not be able to write more of them.

(2) Further reading, if you’re so inclined:
The Body Keeps the Score and Trauma and Recovery.

I knew the “Pandemic Be Damned!” advertising for Blood Ties would bite me.

Things have been a real struggle at Chez Skyla. Not really due to the pandemic, but because on top of everything I deal with pretty debilitating mental illness. I’ve been stable for quite a while, but around the time of the last post, I felt it tugging at me. I thought I was just a little off, but last week I pretty drastically went down hill. A combination of factors–including Shawn injuring himself, and some tough death anniversaries (April is always a very bad month for me)–on top of my naturally weird brain chemistry, and I had a major nervous breakdown that lasted several days, to the point I could barely function and was crying all the time with a lot of intrusive, irrational thoughts (that I at least still retained the awareness to know they were irrational–so, progress!). Oh yeah, I’m real fun at parties!

It’s been bad. (This was not a joke tweet.)

I managed to find short-term coping mechanisms that would give me a few hours of relief–staying offline helped my focus a lot so there wasn’t the constant stream of bad apocalyptic news, and when I kept getting that build up of tension or anxiety, I’d take an hour and play a difficult survival horror game. Anxiety is basically your brain screaming BEAR BEAR BEAR but because it hasn’t evolved past the point when threats were bears for our ancestors, it’s sort of useless in common situations now–so a video game where a zombie could pop out and potentially kill me gave my brain an actual BEAR to deal with, and when the threat was dispatched, it calmed my anxiety down.

It didn’t last, but it was something. Ultimately, one has to wait it out, I think, so the brain can reset itself.

So all this is to say there’s going to be a bit of a delay with Blood Ties. Because it took a while to finally look at, then I had a breakdown, which left me questioning every aspect of the book (except the murder), and it was a week before I could go back to it. It’s set for June 2 and KDP gives me up to thirty days to delay it without penalty. I’m hoping for mid-June but I’ll officially settle on the date next month. I’m done my second revision pass and sent it for copyediting, and I’m putting it out of my head now that I can focus better on other (paid!) work and not lying in bed thinking everyone hates me.

Everything is really difficult right now, I feel like I’m slogging through a swamp–both physically and mentally–but I’m marginally better than last week or even the weekend, and staying offline definitely helps. Hoping in a week I’ll be back to normal–which is still pretty fucking stressed, but not sobbing-in-the-corner-all-day stressed.

If you preordered Blood Ties, you’ll get a notice when the date changes. I apologize and promise it’s still coming. Thank you for your patience.