Oh, man, I have been on a "so much information I don't know what to do with it all; help me, I'm dying!" brainwave for the last few weeks. Hence my rather abysmal posting record recently. It's been a combination of a lot of things, really: new job, lack of motivation, reinventing some sort of social life. Been an interesting time to say the least. Hopefully, in the next couple of weeks, I'll get my feet under me again and really start cranking out some writing. Or at least finish that revision I've been working on for a year now.

I really ought to have more to say here today. But I don't at the moment. Perhaps I'll post again later; perhaps not. I guess we'll see if inspiration strikes.

Oljiru kovy.

Oops and Pseudonyms

Two weeks without a proper Saturday post. I'm so sorry! *Falls to the floor and begs forgiveness.* Last week I was out of town (buying my grandfather's car and driving home from Ohio), and yesterday...well, yesterday, I just plain forgot. But I'm here now--a day late--and that's what matters. Right?

Whether or not you forgive me, this week I want to talk about pseudonyms and pen names. I've been writing under Emer d'Ange for several years now, but I've recently realized something: it's hard to remember. And hard to remember (and spell, I'm sure) is not a good thing where pseudonyms are concerned. If you're going to write under a false name, make sure it's one that people can pronounce. So, thanks to some shallow soul-searching and advice from a few professors a couple months ago, I have decided to change my fake name. As of right now, I will write under the name Emerson Singer. Simpler, cleaner, no random apostrophes from French that no one will understand, and pretty gender neutral. Now to go change all my professional emails and usernames on various writing forums. To the internet!

But before I go, a little snippet to make up for being MIA for two weeks. Random little comedic moment from chapter eight of Savior. I hope you enjoy it!

Trick jolted awake to the feeling of lips on his cheek. He surged upright and smashed his head against Suoh’s, eliciting yelps of pain from both of them. 

Raja laughed raucously as the two men fell away from each other, cursing in different languages. 

“What the hell did you do that for?” Trick bellowed, pressing the heel of his palm to his pounding temple. 

“She told me to,” Suoh whimpered in reply, his head in his hands. “Gods, you’ve got a hard head.” 

“Gaviru! You’re the one with a hard head!” Trick cursed again as he forced himself to sit up, glad that the room wasn’t spinning. His fiery gaze flicked back and forth between the poltergeist beside him and the pixie a few feet away. “And don’t do every damned thing she tells you, Hatichiin! Just because she’s an Agent doesn’t mean you have to listen to her.” 

Raja smirked. “Actually, it does. Since he’s still our prisoner and all.” 

“Was there a reason you needed me awake?” The elf snarled instead of replying. 

“Besides providing me with entertainment?” She snickered and dodged Trick’s blow aimed at her face.