The Myth of the Prolific Indie Author
Every week, someone on Twitter defends the ultra-prolific indie author pumping out ten novels a year. They invoke “pulp speed” and cite million-word-per-year math. They insist it’s possible if you just work hard enough. They’re selling you productivity courses. Here’s the problem: they’re confusing
Mešvi 2.2 Conlang Update Notes
Mešvi 2.2 formalizes three mechanics revealed by stress-testing: (1) Geminates—when compounding creates identical consonants at morpheme boundaries, both are retained and pronounced as lengthened consonants (bîn + nêf → bînnêf, "BEEN-nayf"); (2) Four-morpheme limit—standalone compounds max out at fo
Introducing Mešvi 2.1: Language as Culture in Dark Dominion
The first iteration of Mešvi was Persian with centuries of simulated linguistic drift. But as I developed the Mešvi people—their matriarchal society, prophetic traditions, and goddess worship—I realized the language needed to be rebuilt from scratch. A language shapes and reflects the culture that s
Designing a Conlang Backwards
I invented an alien accent by ear, then had to reverse-engineer the grammar that would naturally produce it. When Vylaraian pickpocket Lari said “I’s tryin’ t’ be you friend,” I wasn’t thinking about linguistics—just making her sound right. But months later, writing a reader magnet, I needed actual
Love in the Wasteland: Mikhael and the Art of Gentle Defiance
Mikhael was engineered to be the Dominion’s perfect weapon—a super-soldier who can teleport through combat and heal from anything. When they sent him to kill a rogue operative, he made a different choice: he saved her instead. The woman is Sarai, pregnant with the god-emperor’s child and marked for
The Evil Isn’t Coming; It’s Already Being Retweeted
Hannah Arendt went to Jerusalem in 1961 expecting to report on a monster. She found a middle manager instead—a bureaucrat who spoke in clichés, followed orders, and never thought about where the trains were going. Evil wasn’t demonic, she argued. It was banal. Ordinary. Thoughtless. Now, seventy yea
An Author of Dubious Literary Merit
I used to call myself an “author of dubious literary merit”—half joke, half truth. I write stories to follow characters through impossible situations and see what choices they’ll make and how they’ll live with them (and hopefully entertain readers in the process). I never set out to explore specific
