"Hey Kiddo." [GREENWARDEN ANNIVERSARY SNIPPET]
Sometimes, when Dad isn't home, Mom lets you watch cartoons at the diner in town, lets you meet other kids at the park. Always home before sunset. Always wearing a hat. Never tell Dad where you went, what you did. Never stay for too long in one place.
Sometimes people from town stop Mom in the streets and ask how she's been, their eyes all a-worried. Asking if she can stay over at theirs one of these days, catch up, and she always declines with a look your way. There's a deep sadness etched on her face. It reminds you of the rocks at the beach. You see the same face worn into their sides by the unrelenting, salted tide.
Sometimes Dad doesn’t come home, out deep in the woods somewhere. That’s when Mom takes you out for ice cream at the diner and lets you watch cartoons as much as you want, and talks in hushed voices with people you don’t know. Their faces are friendly – but they look at you like you’re a monster. Something with teeth waiting to pounce. A few even look like they hate you. You feel it in the soles of your feet, bare on the tile.
Dad is home tonight. He has you out in the woods today, watching you from a log as you scratch a big buck between the antlers, its head bowed to give your stubby arms a little more access. It snorts and takes two paces backward when Dad gets up from the log and puts his big anvil hand on the top of your head.
You can't help the flinch. He ruffles your hair. Slowly.
That is not your father.
“What's it thinking, kiddo?”
“Uhm,” you look at the buck, watching your dad with unblinking eyes. The animals don't really have thoughts. None that you can hear, anyway — you feel their minds through the soles of your feet, up into your shoulders. The squirrels and deer, the pillbugs under the rocks. The big buck takes another step back.
“I dunno?” Dad's hand on your head stops. Your little heart starts a hammering rhythm in your ribcage.
“Try again.”
Whose memories are these?
“It's — scared?” No, not scared. You don't know the word. If it were scared, it would have run — but the big buck just stands there. Watching.
In town, there's a big church with gargoyles (like the cartoon) sitting on the edge of the roof, staring down at the sidewalks. It's like that. If there's a word for it, you don't know it. You can barely read, all your schooling spent in the woods learning how to track, hunt, and bend the woods to your chubby hand.
You stick your fingers in your mouth to chew on. They taste like game grease and fur and a little bit of grit.
Your dad hums. A stick somewhere deep in the woods snaps, and suddenly the buck runs off. You wave bye-bye to it. The pillbugs and squirrels and whippoorwills scatter at the sound. You turn to squint into the black. There's a monster in there somewhere — you feel the emptiness on the soles of your bare feet, the surface skin of your arm.
Dad pats you on the head and turns you toward the house, pushing your shoulders a little. You almost fall. You scrape up the top of your foot on a rock catching yourself, blood bubbling from the split skin.
Not yours not yours this is not yours.
“Go on — your momma's waiting.”
“Okay!” When you run off, your heart finally slows to a metered rhythm. Somewhere, deep behind you, you hear the sound of crunching and ripping flesh.
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please take as much time as you need to rest and recover. burn out is so hard and takes so much to heal from. your art and your supporters will still be here when you get back :) take care <3
Thank you very much
Unfortunately, my situation doesn't really allow me to take the time I need. I've got a ~two month hiatus scheduled for my midseason, but much like my first hiatus I'll most likely be working double time during it...
It's unfortunate because I could really really use a bigger break!
Having the time and flexibility to work on other projects really fires me up and keeps me going, and being able to take a guilt free day off for family and friends is necessary to my mental health, and I've been having to turn people down lately...
This is a very kind message, and I'm sorry to vent in response! But I just feel transparency about the pressure I'm under is necessary and important. I'd love to take the time I really need, but due to deadlines and that pesky "needing money to live" I can't.
But, once the series is over I intend to take a pretty big break before I start whatever I'm doing next! I've got so many short stories and projects planned that I want so badly to get to, I can't wait to really get to truly dive in to them!
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Trying to do worldbuilding for a planet is very hard when you don't know anything about astronomy, physics, hard science in general, and haven't taken a math class in several years
I wanted the planet to be small but otherwise Earth-like but apparently a planet that small would not be dense enough to hold an atmosphere together unless it was real close to its sun and if I wanted it to be real close to its sun while still being habitable it'd have to be a red dwarf star and actually a planet that orbited a red dwarf star that close would probably be tidally locked and the colors would be all weird and wait, how old is the planet, what about the moon, fuck we gotta figure out the tectonic plates, how the fuck do THOSE work--
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..if this were a spec bio or sci-fi setting these would be interesting topics im sure. But I'm trying to put together a HIGH FANTASY SETTING. These guys wouldn't even appreciate the work I'm doing here!! In their setting the sun is a deity who handles LEGAL MATTERS they don't CARE ABOUT THISSSS
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