Blue Moon

Tonight is a blue moon. I remember the last one. It was November a couple years ago. I was in New York.

I sat under the stars in the grass with a woman in my arms, looking up. It was my idea. After about five minutes we went off to do something else. I can’t remember what. I just remember sitting under the blue moon with her, gazing up, happy as could be.

So dear blue moon: you suck.

Bad Romance

This weekend has been a good one for my pursuit of all things literary. My edits for an anthology game back as enchanting and charming, witty and adorable. I was informed my editor at points forgot she was supposed to be editing because she was that pulled in. I had an old high school buddy finish reading my fantasy novel. I was terrified because he’s an avid reader and very particular. He thought it was good, entertaining, with a few fixes required. He said there were slow spots, it wasn’t perfect, but for my second novel, and first one to see the light of day? I will take a “it was mostly entertaining and well done.”

I also finished one map and started two others for the novels. They’re looking insane. I’m in love with how they’re turning out, and they expand upon the novels. For G’desh, the novel only covers about 10% of what is on the map, giving plenty of play space in the future for stories. So basically my stories have been on my mind all weekend, and waking up this morning, I thought, “Maybe I can take a day off and continue this writing kick.”

However, while in the shower Sunday, I was thinking heavily on my stories, primarily my romances. When little, friends and family always asked why there were romances in my prose. They said it’s not always required, especially the flowery, romantic gibberish I was writing. I was a hopeless romantic, love was such a beautiful thing, I was the Bohemian trying to find his soulmate.

But, just like Christian with Satine, I was disillusioned by love. Over, and over, and over again. My lover didn’t die a horrible death, work a brothel, and so on. They just kept ditching me. Apparently after a while, that works its way into a hopeless romantic’s heart, until all that’s left is hopeless.

I say this because as I was reflecting on the love stories in my series, the love stories in future books, I saw a handful of relationships which were broken and filled with vitriol. Cheating, lying, attempted murder, murder, passive-aggressive behavior. I think I have one happy ending, and it’s really a Pyrrhic victory.

The last real love story I wrote, that was romantic and beautiful, I have been flirting with the idea of rewriting it. That’s what got me to thinking. It was about a scribe and baker who run off due to political persecution. Two normal people in a fantasy world persevering through love. It was gag worthy romance.

When I reworked it, due to what it was based on, I thought of doing a more caustic story. Two lovers, making a vow to be together forever, accidentally step into a curse. Despite a rather nasty break up, they find they’re immortal and doomed to cross paths again and again throughout history, each meeting being equal parts solving a problem, and trying not to kill each other. It would more or less go from a Rome setting, all the way up to a sci fi setting, with megalopolises.

Our main character, the man, just wants to die. Not the point of suicide: he feels he has a purpose and has to fulfill it. Yet every day he just begs for an end. And after a century without seeing his lover, he wonders if she finally was given a way out. And as I conjured this little tale in the shower, I realized how horrifyingly depressing it was. How it was filled with hopelessness. And I pondered if all my love stories were filled with such melancholy. When I realized they were all crushing, it made me think maybe I need a new approach to love. Maybe I need to force a happy love story. Maybe next time.

Geography of G’desh: The Deserts and Lake of G’desh

Paul Davis:

Upcoming series for the Volden website to lead up to the launch of the novel in early 2015! Final read through is going on, and then edits, and finally launching to the publisher and calling it a day.

Originally posted on Lands of Volden:

Volume I: Chapter I of the Geography of Ji-Wei

A scroll written by the scholar Lang Su, as reported to him by Bashar

Far to the south there is an ignorant culture which is entirely reliant upon the fire spirit G’desh. So much of their culture is based on this single spirit, powerful he may be, that they named the major lake, their deserts, and, from time to time, their capital after him. Suffice to say, they are a heathen society yet to be touched by the benevolence of the gods, as hard as we may work to open their hearts to the truth.

The G’desh Desert is split in half by Lake G’desh. The west has fine grains of sand, as if all our beaches were multiplied a thousand fold and put in one area. Dunes create ever-shifting hills, so the landscape is not the same from day to day. The…

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Heroes: Published in October


Weird. I thought this was further off. I was so focused on my novel that I forgot I will be published in October. I thought there would be no more publications this year, that my run for 2015 was finished. It was good. I was published once, which in math is a mathematically significantly multiplier, since zero times anything is still zero. It is an impossible number. Good game.

The first publication, Den of Thieves, was based on India mythology and put through the Den of Quills writing group. The second, Heroes, will be based on an awkward kid in elementary school trying to stick up for what is right and is going through the Phoenix Quill writing group. It’s currently with the editor. I suppose that’s a sign that it was happening soon.

I should get edits back by the end of this week, and I will clean it up this weekend. Meanwhile, my second novel has stalled, I’m waiting anxiously for the feedback on the first one (there is a massive part of me that just wants to fire it off to the editor and say, “DONE!” because then it would be out by November or December), and tomorrow I’m buying a huge piece of paper to make a map so I can get a cool map in my book. Continuity issues blow.

October is going to be exhausting with this publication, men’s retreat in San Antonio, leading a Guatemala trip, and possibly moving. Stressful. But at least I’ll have a second publication under my belt.


You know how you have plans and they get derailed? I was planning on living in my current apartment for another year. The price was right. At that point, I’d have most my debts shored away, a small nest egg, and I’d be looking into a house. Why does a bachelor need a house? So I can have my nephew visit, so family can stay with me, so I can create secret passages where you move a book and the door opens, so I could do whatever I wanted without a wife asking why a candelabra is in the study and why it opens a door when she tries to pick it up. I also planned on making a massive gaming room, in which once a year I would hold DavisCon, where family and friends got together for a Saturday of hardcore board game and role playing.

Now there is apparently a good chance I will be looking for a new life in Kenosha. I’ll still have my job, I’ll just be moving south. There is a chance it won’t happen, but the closer we get, the more we talk, the more certain it sounds. Maybe I’ll even try to find a rent to buy home down there, since I won’t have nearly enough saved up for a house.

October is when I would move. It’s already busy with me going to Guatemala to lead a mission trip, as well as spending a weekend out in San Antonio for a men’s group retreat. I may have to bail on that if I’m going to be moving October 31.

The good thing is Kenosha is inexpensive. The bad thing is I don’t know anyone down there. New beginnings and what not. Should be exciting. While it disrupts my three year plan, it’s not as crippling as some disturbances, and I think a change of scenery could be good.

My life for Tamriel: The Diary of an ESO Addict

I swore I wasn’t going to buy Elder Scrolls Online. It took my favorite single player game, made it an MMO, and I was bitter. Where would be my greatness in this world where a million chosen were all competing for recognition in a world that didn’t shift nearly as wildly. How could I live when I was confined to a set skill group? What would I do in a crafting system I couldn’t exploit like children in a third world country working sweat factories? Then my middle brother caved.

At first I could only see inadequacies. It was difficult getting crafting material. The craft system was clumsy. I didn’t get what was happening. Skills were difficult to fully comprehend. The story was okay.

Then something clicked. I was able to easily locate alchemical agents. I understood how to make potions. I kept an alchemy book where I wrote down what different plants did and plotted out how to make the desired potions. I got into crafting armor and weapons, I began enchanting them, I was put on a quest line where I had to siege a castle. My build and potions combined made me nearly invincible, wading knee deep in the blood of my enemies and zombies. The zombies were my friends, but then they died once, so I helped them die again. For fifteen minutes, my adrenaline soared as I crushed my foes.

Suddenly I was obsessed with crafting, with a perfect build, with exploring the world, with reading the lore, with everything. I became a resident of Tamriel, moving out of the realm of a doubter of Bethesda’s irrefutable brilliance. The crafting components I struggled to collect became abundant. The creations I was tormented over made sense, so I could create exactly what I intended through inference and experimentation. I was the mad scientist. The delusional enchanter. The whimsical sorcerer. The skooma addict.

So off to a difficult day, as I await my love this evening. As I escape to Tamriel. As I fight to be motivated enough to work out at 8. And to eat. Food is important, and provisions in an MMO don’t count. I should clean, but that sounds overrated.

If you’re on the PS4 and playing ESO, let me know. I’m Ebonheart Pact.