Relocation

So apparently the WordPress scheduler failed me. I shall add them to my list and prep the voodoo dolls.

Anyhow, as you all know, last month was the grand finale of the Waking Den. But have no fear! I’ve simply relocated, not fallen into the black abyss from which there is no escape. You can find me at the shiny new http://galfordchris.com/! Because it’s about time this author had a proper website.

I’m still getting things situated exactly the way I like them, but if you’ve any comments, concerns, suggestions, I’m all ears. I hope you’ll follow me to the new site and continue with me through a whole bunch of new ventures.

Once more unto the breach!

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The Den’s End

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When you first met me, I looked like this.

After many years, I regret to say that the end of this month will mark the end of The Waking Den.

When I started it, eight years ago, I was still in college. I was working on my first novel. I had a lot of ideas and very few notions of how to achieve them (I’m not sure too much has changed on that count!). This blog provided an outlet that was immeasurable for its help and, at times, the community that came and went around it.

But it’s no secret this past year has been probably one of the hardest of my life. With three books now to my name and a host of other scribbles, I’ve grown a lot creatively (though  not met with any visible success), but life has borne down impossibly hard, and I simply do not have the time or energy to devote to this forum’s upkeep–not mention that after so many years and form changes, it’s become a touch bloated, to say the least!

For all that it has seen–short stories, articles, reviews, poems (god, so many Poems)–I will not be deleting it, but leaving it as a standing memorial. An archive of works that stand also to the progress of a young mind.

In time, I hope to return with a new project, with a website under my own name, but that will take time, and a great deal of change on the homefront to be able to achieve.

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Today, I look like this. Time is a strange creature.

In the meantime, for those of you that have read, or said something, commented, participated, picked my brain, few though you may be, know that it has meant the world. To engage…that’s why we put ourselves out in the world, I think. We evolve through interaction, for it teaches us what we’ve done wrong, what we’re doing right, and new ways of doing things. New sights, new sounds, new people–the more we experience, the more we make ourselves accessible to art. Your connection has helped me grow as a person, and the bounty of that gift is incalculable.

Thank you.

And to all of you: keep writing.

Keep reading.

Don’t ever let your passion die.

The Hollow March Anniversary Photoshoot

Yes, you read that right. This frigid little month marks the fourth anniversary of The Hollow March‘s debut, and for that, I decided to have a little fun (AKA be a dork and play with sharp, pointy things). For those of you lurking about Facebook and Twitter, of course, this will come as no surprise, but yesterday I garbed up and got medieval on the Internet, essentially cosplaying as one of my novels’ main characters, Rurik Matair.

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The results were filled with grim shadowplay, filters, and were ruddy mysterious, but had the added advantage of a fancy hat and a scimitar. I would like to have kept both, but alas, neither was within my photographer’s purview to grant (woe is me).

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It has been a long, strange ride friends. In these four years I have not only seen birthed a series I had been dreaming up for the better part of a decade, but concluded it as well. Three books in four years; not too shabby for someone still fending off the latter half of their twenties, wouldn’t you say?

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Like the silliness? Want more? Want to dress up, too, or have great cosplays from other literature to share? Pop your thoughts and links into the comments, and share around. It’s an anniversary, after all, and that means it’s time for a party.

And for those of you that have stumbled across this site for the first time, and for whom this is their first introduction to me: where have you been? Here’s the link to my books, so you know who I am: http://www.amazon.com/Chris-Galford/e/B007A9XDXK/

Mementos of Distance

A new month, new energy, and plenty of new creations under my belt…

Come on, 2015, there’s still a little time left. Let’s finish it with a bang!

(And some poetry, of course…)

Outside, the snow is falling
silence stretches in the weight behind
the distance flakes have traveled
what they have seen
what they have known
lonely mementos of their fading.

On Turkeys, Great and Small

Alright everybody, just a heads up. There’s been a lot happening in the world; you know it, I know it, me posting about it here would just clog the Internet up with another voice shouting about senselessness into the void. Many have expressed my heart’s feelings on the matter better than I could, but if you really wanted to hear me screaming, go through the backlog of my Twitter. It’s filled with late night laments.

I know I write entertainment. It’s what most people turn to literature for. That said, the way the world’s been spiraling, well…it hasn’t been terribly conducive to that process. One of the burdens of being creative? Your heart gets pulled in a lot of different directions.

So, right, the heads-up. Basically, I wanted you all to know I’m taking the rest of the month off. Partly because I’m going to be spending the upcoming (American) holiday in Virginia, partly to finish up Christmas gifts for those close to me (you probably know who you are, and you’re going to be getting some stories), and partly because I’m trying to figure out next steps.

Next month marks the anniversary of the release of THE HOLLOW MARCH and that’s always a nostalgic and interesting time for me. A number of projects have also fallen through in recent days, and that winter depression is already clawing at my bones.

In other words? Drawing lines. Taking care of myself.

As I hope you all are doing. I’ll see you in December with plenty of new stuff. In the meantime, don’t hesitate to write. I see you, I hear you, and I have mad amounts of those heart-related feelings for you all.

Angry Turkeys for everyone!

Last House on the Block

(It’s poetry, so nothing’s right out in the open, but I’m just going to go ahead and say TRIGGER WARNING in all caps before we delve into this one)

crickets quieting footsteps

no one thinks to question the shadows

closed doors leave behind

until the lights paint

red white and blue

across the glass:

through the cracks

the social worker

notices the spider

completing its wrap

where the buds

silently fell.