Until yesterday, I didn't realize how much perfectionism was fucking up my life. Well that and the long-standing narrative that there are only two roads to sharing my stories: the long hard crawl toward a publishing house (and the series of strokes of luck and privilege required to make that work) OR shitty self-publishing.

I'm writing my 7th novel. That means, friends, that over the last 20+ years I've woken up at the ass-crack of dawn and writhed over a blank page nearly every day. That I've written in hotels and coffee farms and teahouses. I've filled notebook after notebook with ideas, dialogue, technical studies-anybody else let Google be their teacher?-and entire chapters.

This also means: 6 novels sitting on my hard drive, unread by anybody but me, their creator, who has a habit of writing and moving on.

Enough. I'm trying the third road: taking a new pen name (in case this whole thing fails miserably, nobody reads my shit, or everybody hates my shit) and releasing my 6th novel, Aneirin, online to see what everybody else thinks about it.

I'm releasing it for free, but if you want to see behind-the-scenes, have the chance to chat with me about writing (or ideas for the next book!), and maybe learn what music I was listening to at each stage in the book, please jump over to Patreon (I'm /BellRue) and become a patron at whatever tier most pleases you. Thanks for reading, friend. 

Do please let me know what you think of Aneirin.