D. Kai Wilson-Viola: Revolution - not resolution (guest post)

I've been making resolutions for as long as I can remember, but I've never quite managed to stick to them. Come close - people that know me are always using sentences like 'I don't know how you do it' when referring to my work, but I'm about to let you in on a secret.

I am a perfectionist. I push myself far too hard and for the last three years, I've been punishing myself. For what, I'm not sure, but I always set up goals that are too difficult for a normal. Perhaps it's because I don't like being bored. Perhaps it's because I spent the last four years (to 2011) in a degree, which meant every minute was filled and then I had a crazy amount of time that I had to find slots for. All I know is that this year, I had to change. I don't want to spend another day hurrying up and waiting - putting myself through a wringer and basically making it difficult to get on with my work. So I decided…

Revolution.

In everything I do. Absolutely everything.

I'm not going to promise to read more. I'm not going to promise to review more - I can't fit that in right now - what I need to do first is overhaul everything else first.

Revolution in exercise - I'm going to stop signing up for a gym and I'm going to use the kit we have here - that is, a Kinect and some games. It's a start, until I get back to being fit enough to road run, which I love.

Revolution in writing - no more sitting on my work. It's as easy as that.

Revolution in blogging - more, more, more.

Revolution in marketing - oh, this one is going to be fun - and this one is the huge surprise. It involves two books, and a whole new perspective on something that I consider my speciality though.

Revolution in my home - I work FROM home, but the house looks like no one cares. With two teens and two adults, I'm not entirely surprised, so part of the exercise revolution is cleaning the house. I mean *really* cleaning.

Revolution in my perspective - I'm not very open about the struggles we've dealt with this year. Multiple miscarriages, my youngest going to a specialist school, bills, and problems with the house like you wouldn't believe, hospital stays….the works. And Last year, I dwelled. I was always behind. I was *always* making excuses. My books got bumped to not only 'back burner' but back yard, next door. My stuff came last because I wanted to make sure I was serving everyone I worked with, but a heck of a lot of that was volunteering. And I love helping out, but it's just not practical to do full time. Not without my own books, and my own writing and reading coming first. It's selfish, but that's the biggest revolution. Being nice doesn't mean being everywhere and doing everything.

You might wonder, 'what's a writer doing talking in such vague terms? Why's she talking about intensely personal stuff?'

You might wonder what exercise and my house being a bit dusty and the washing pile coming up over my ears is important to anyone other than me. But the thing is, writers are dancing around trying to balance everything. And for those of us with families and houses will know exactly what I'm talking about. Revolution is a bit difficult though when you're 34, trying for a baby (and failing - I blog about that, when I'm not bawling my eyes out). But I need to do this, because I'm going to destroy myself otherwise.

The irony of this? I don't have a book out under my own name. I do lots of work for other writers, but I've not even added 'promoting my debut novel' into the mix. Revolution - that happens this year too, and I bet my life will change.

And then I thought - why isn't everyone else doing revolutions rather than resolutions? Causing an uprising in their world, big or small? Because there's really nothing stopping you.

About the Author:

Kai really is 34 (though she often feels 15), trying for a baby, and hoping this year will be an improvement on 2012. When not pressing the big detonation button on everything in her life, she can be found blogging at http://authorinterrupted.com, and starting two new blogs at http://babymakes.me (where she talks infertility and knitting baby stuff) and http://forensiclinguistics.com, where I go all geeky about language.

Her first book will be out soon, and is called Glass Block. That's a whole other (54 book) story in itself.

The views, beliefs, and opinions expressed by guest post authors are their own and do not necessarily reflect the views, beliefs, or opinions of Girl Who Reads.

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Meet the Author: D. Kai Wilson-Viola

Hello!
I never know how to open these things up, so I just thought I'd start with 'hello' and take it from there.

Today is my birthday. I am thirty-four, and that means, I've been writing for thirty years. No, seriously.

I thought I'd give you a day in my life, but typically, I couldn't release it without committee editing, so instead, I thought I'd introduce you to Elliot.

Happy birthday, fourth wall

He leads me into a quiet room off to one side. I can hear weeping in one of the other rooms, as the door snaps open and then shut again. I catch a glimpse of a woman, hands bloody, sobbing with them stretched out on the table before her, the steel chill against the bright red blood.

"Stop looking, you know what happened anyway," he snaps at me, pulling me a little bit faster. He's furious, but there's no way for me to work out why. No contextual cues. And I'm not jacked in, and yet….I think I know something. But, I'm vague, glassy - waiting to be filled up again with knowledge.

The room opens, sparse, blue, with a glass wall. It's as I expected. I've been here before.

"Sit," he said, pointing to a smart desk. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, revealing taunt, scarred arms, and I look over at the chair he's pointing to.

"No, sorry, don't like the tech," I say automatically. He pulls out a null sheet and extravagantly, as if putting down a picnic blanket, spreads it over the table with a small, sardonic flick. His left wrist is leading his right, as if one isn't as fast. I tilt my head, and I see overlays. Dates, times. When his hand was replaced.

"Sit," he says again. His eyes are ice against my own gaze, the blue stark and clear against his skin.

"Sir," I say, snapping him a salute. He doesn't rise to the bait. I look around. On the walls, like luminol tattoos are all of the interrogations that will be here, past and present. Dizzying, I try to read a few before giving in.

"So, here's what I know. You're not a clone," I incline my head. "You're not a cop," I incline my head, more hesitantly this time, "in fact, you're not anything in the judicial system," My head incline is more like raising my chin again. Straightening my back, I pull down the edges of the skirt I am regretting wearing. He sits down across from me, chair turned 180 degrees, leaning on the edge of the back.

"I know you, but I don't know why," he said, softer.

"Me? I'm Kai. I'm nobody," I say.

"That's a lie," he replies mildly. "Let's start with the easy stuff. Name?"

"Kai. D Kai Wilson-Viola," I reply.

"Aliases?"

I bite my lip. "Sabrann Curach and Lady Fayth C Reeves,"

"You live?"

"In a house."

"Most people do," Detective Peters says.

"Skip that one for now please?"

He frowns and moves to the next question.

"So what did you do on Sunday the eleventh?"

"Well," I say, looking at the table, trying not to think of the woman in the other room, wondering what news she'd had that made her cry. Wondering whose blood it was.

It's her husband's. His case is Elliot's ninth. That's the voice of my Muse. I push it back for now.

"I got up, had breakfast, got ready to go out,"

"Out?"

"Coffee meet for a project called the Nanowrimo,"

"I'm sorry, the what?" he says. His face is perplexed, creased.

"National Novel Writer's month,"

"You're a writer?" His voice reverberates slightly tinny in the room and I incline my head again. He's quick, isn't he?

"And then?"

"I came home and wrote some more."

He scribbles something, then says, "I have reason to believe that a serious crime was committed today," I swallow hard. "So what about the last 24 hours?"

"Packed my kids off to school," he ticks something, "Saw my partner off to work," again his hand moves on the list, "opened some mail."

"Yep,"

"Went to the pub, for a write in." I said. He stopped, tilting his head.

"Seriously?" His eyebrows are up.

"Yep,"

"No other work?"

"Nope. Editing is quiet, the chatrooms are busy, I'm writing a lot," I'm less repentant now, my chin rising.

"Will I have read anything of yours?"

"Very much doubt it," I respond, before continuing, "but you might before Christmas. I've got a couple of short stories up under my pen names,"

He nods, and continues to write on the clipboard.

Finally, he looks back at me and says, "Well, that will be all then," before gesturing to the door.

"If I may ask, what was the crime?"

"You may ask, but I'm not telling you. You can work it out when you get here in the next book," Dammit…

"And Happy Birthday," he adds, just as I pull the handle and close the door behind me.

D Kai Wilson-Viola spends a lot of time with Elliot, and the merry band of detectives in that station, so it's no wonder he recognised her. Her first book, Glass Block is due out imminently, while her other pen names have short stories out.

She's midway (nearly) thought her 10th Nanowrimo, and Monday the 12th of November (when this was posted) was her birthday.

You can find her at http://authorinterrupted.com - http://dkaiwilsonviola.com or http://facebook.com/dkaiwilsonviola where she loves to hang out and talk books.

 Find Glass Block at Goodreads

The views, beliefs, and opinions expressed by guest post authors are their own and do not necessarily reflect the views, beliefs, or opinions of Girl Who Reads. Girl Who Reads is an advertising affiliate with Amazon and IndieBound; a small fee is earned when purchases are made using the above links.

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Friday Fun with D Kai Wilson-Viola

Talking at the end of the world.

My favourite place, in the world, is Colinton Dell. We can't make it there in the time we've got left - it's six hours drive minimum, and that's if the roads are clear, so I'll settle for second best.
It's called 'Crickley Hill'.

We renewed our vows there - completed our handfasting. We made it through that year and a day. 

We made it. Five years later, we got married. Happiest days of our lives, right?

Let's go there. If we've got the choice, and we do.

I'll take you up the path, and we'll see what we find. Let's go find the fairy glade - or the little valley where we spread the seeds for our handfasting.

I bet we can make it. If I have to choose somewhere to go, that's where I want to be.

There's screaming outside - we should go now. There's screaming and yelling and I bet there are people crying. We should go. 

Now.

Let's take the car and find a way to the hill. Let's go.

There are fairies there - look at all the bluebells. There will be bluebells there. Just because I hope so.

Remember the gun. Please, we'll need to defend ourselves. That screaming is getting closer. Log out of your stuff, leave your phone here. 

Let's go. Let's say goodbye to everyone, and just go.

Don't turn on the TV - I don't want to see. I don't want to know what's coming. I don't want to know what's been. I don't want to be stuck here, because we didn't take the chance when we had it. I don't want to be cornered in a house - without the sun on my face, or one last happy smile from you when you see a squirrel, or a dog. I can't bear to go without you - and if we're caught here, they'll take me away.

Let's find our glade, our secret place that everyone sees, let's find our hope and our faith again with each other. Let's find the comfort of each other's arms under the sun this one last time. Please.

I don't want to go without you.

The end of the world.

It's not going to be sunny, but at least it's not raining. We can make it there in half an hour, and if I get the choice, I want to go there.

Let's go, please. 

Please.

We've got to talk. 

We've got to talk about this. About the baby. About our marriage. About the end of the world.

D Kai Wilson-Viola does actually love a place called Colinton Dell, but as she lives six hours south of Edinburgh, if the end came, she doubts she'd make it.
 

Prayer for the Dammed, her first zombie novel, and prequel to her already released short story 'Footnotes to a lesson' will be available soon. In the meantime, she can be found blogging at http://authorinterrupted.com
You can follow her on goodreads at: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5260381.D_Kai_Wilson_Viola (though her zombie stuff is actually under http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2903601.Sabrann_Curach where she is one of the founders of the 'Thinking man's zombie novels' genre).

All photos, © D Kai Wilson-Viola/D Viola 2011, Crickley Hill (http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/crickley-hill/)