Jamieson Wolf
Number-one bestselling author
On Completing a Novel During a Pandemic
I finished a novel that I had been working on for almost a year. It almost didn’t get finished.
The Queen of Swords is a dystopian novel that takes place on an earth that has been forever changed. When our heroine finds herself trapped in an airplane, she finds her way out only to see find the world she knew covered in blood and the sky filled with smoke from fires that are still burning.
Since 2014, I’ve had an idea in my mind. I wanted to write about the Fools Journey from a Tarot deck and use the cards as the backbone of a novel, giving it signposts along the way to propel the plot along. It took me five years to work up the gumption to attempt writing it. In my original idea, it would feature seventy-eight chapters, one for each card. However, that seemed too large to me, too much. I decided to keep it to the Fools Journey and only tell the story of the Major Arcana. I would write twenty-two chapters.
Even that seemed long to me. My novels range anywhere from five thousand to sixty-four thousand words. I don’t write long books but I knew that this one would be long. It would have to be to tell the whole story. I knew this book would push me in all sorts of different ways: it would feature a loose outline when I normally don’t plot a single thing about my novels, it would have long chapters and I knew tell the story that it would be a longer book than I normally write.
During the writing of it, I worked on other shorter novels, released a book of love poems, a few romance novels and painted. However, I always came back to The Queen of Swords and I kept telling Jackie’s story, wanting to find out where it would all end up. Jackie, the main character of The Queen of Swords, and her world thrilled me and I wanted to explore as much of it as possible.
Then the pandemic happened.
I normally work through difficult situations by turning to positivity. The Queen of Swords is not what I would call a positive story, though there is humour throughout and it and I knew that it would have a (hopefully) positive ending. The thing is, I didn’t want to work on a story set in a dystopian world when it all of a sudden felt like I was living in one.
I began working something that surprised me. I started work on Nancy Boy, the fourth book in my Lemonade Series. I wrote twenty thousand words of that book in two weeks. Writing has always been a comfort for me and has always given me somewhere inside myself that I can go when life gets too difficult or I just feel like exploring.
During that two weeks when I wrote about Nancy, and friends, Jackie from The Queen of Swords kept poking me. She kept telling me that I wasn’t done telling her story and that she would wait patiently for me to finish telling it. I turned to writing poems, short stories, flash fiction and yet Jackie from The Queen of Swords was still poking gently at me with one of her swords.
My mother and I were having a video conversation on Facebook messenger and I was telling her about my issue with writing The Queen of Swords and the pandemic. She looked thoughtful for a moment and said: “You know, maybe writing a novel about a pandemic during a pandemic would strengthen the novel.”
It was all the encouragement I needed.
I dived back into the universe of The Queen of Swords with what can only be called gusto. I was averaging around a thousand words a night and sometimes over that amount. The words seemed to be pouring out of me, wanting the story told as much as I did. When the hit 70,000 words, it became the longest book I had ever written. It kept growing and hit 80,000 words and then 90,000 words. When it hit 100,000 words, I was tongue tied and overjoyed.
I think what made the novel easier to write was finally knowing what had caused the disease that had ruined the earth. I even worked some of the pandemic that I was living into the novel. I guess in that way, life inspired my art.
It also helped me to deal with my anxiety. I’ve never dealt with anxiety in my life before, so this was new to me, the slowly growing feeling of panic that would hound me and would not be denied. I found that I could ignore it if I wrote. It was quieter somehow because my brain had something else to concentrate on. At several points during the novel, Jackie also deals with fear an anxiety. It felt right having her journey mirror the one that I was going though.
Just as Jackie walks the path of the Fools Journey, I followed along with her. Just as Jackie learns about herself, I learned a lot about myself, too. I learned what I’m capable of and that it is possible to climb the flat mountain and to come down the other side. I learned that the impossible is just a trick the mind plays and that everything is possible, sometimes it just takes a little time.
I wrote a wonderful long novel, something you can sink your teeth into and try to figure out as you go along. I hope I like it as much when go through the first round of edits. I’ve also come to realize that Jackie’s story isn’t done yet. A tarot deck has three part so it: the Major Arcana, the Court Cards and the Minor Arcana. That means there’s another two novels to come.
It seems my journey has just begun.
Covidly – A Poem
Each of us is like Rapunzel in her tower.
We look down at the world around us
and we wonder what brought us to this.
Though we let our hair down,
in hopes that someone will grab hold,
no one does and we are left alone.
As I come down from my tower,
I walk in a world that used to be filled
with a multitude of other people
but now contains only emptiness
filled with a loud, deafening silence.
When I do see people in the distance I wave,
happy to see others at long last,
but there are magnets within us that we cannot see
and we are pushed apart,
the distance growing between us.
We wave at each other,
almost as if we have forgotten
what the company of others feels like.
The panic is a constant companion
and I can feel it within me
almost as if it was a bird.
I can feel its wings flapping
as it tries to take flight,
yet there is nowhere to go but further inside of me.
I wonder if the bird will eventually
find its way out and fly from my mouth
into the very air that I have grown to fear.
I picture myself watching as the bird
flies away and, for a moment,
wish that it would let me ride on its wings.
I push the panic and the fear down,
trying to summon the light
that I know is within me.
It will vanquish the fear and the panic
that have become such strange bedfellows.
They’ve grown stronger with every passing day,
as we are kept inside our homes with the television
feeding us a diet of even more panic and worry.
The uncertainty is almost a physical presence
and with each day there are new blooms along my skin.
When I do see other people,
coming down from their own towers in the sky,
their skin is covered in the same blooms,
coloured with the same hues
of uncertainty, worry and fear.
However, if this is a war that we are in,
we should be in it together.
Just because we are separate,
does not mean we are alone.
Even so, I have difficulty finding
the light within that I need to beat this.
I think of the last time I hugged my mother,
or the last time I was able to hold a friend’s hand
while I offered them comfort in a moment of sorrow.
I will think of the laughter that I shared with others,
the simple act of sitting close to one another.
It has only been a couple of months,
but it feels like it has been a year,
for each day feels longer than the last
and they have lost their name.
I do not recall which day it is
and I have become lost in time.
Yet with every day, I yearn to be kinder despite my fear.
I know that in this way I will grow the light within me.
The light will grow brighter with every act
of positivity, kindness and generosity that I can preform.
The only way to prevent the spread of the virus
is to remain far apart from each other
and shine brightly into the night that seeks to separate us.
The windows of our towers will light up the darkness
so that the sky looks like it is filled with stars.
That way, others who may be lost in the dark will see our light
and they will know that they are not
alone.
The Renaissance Virtual Conference!
This is so cool!
My amazing publisher Renaissance Press is holding their first ever Renaissance Virtual Conference! How amazing is that?
It takes place on from June 5th to June 7th. I am a guest author for this conference, and I will be speaking on two different panels:
Saturday June 6th
11 AM: Autobiography and Memoir Writing
How is writing a memoir different than writing fiction? Our panelists will examine the differences between fiction and memoir writing, as well as the different kinds of memoirs.
Sunday June 7th
3:30 PM: Disabled Literature
Disabled authors are defining their heroes, and redefining what it means to live as a disabled person. Listen to our panelists recommend their favorite reads in the genre.
I’m so excited to be taking part in this! For the full program and to register, check out Renaissance Press here: https://pressesrenaissancepress.ca/events/renaissance-virtual-conference/full-program-and-registration/
The best part? It’s all free! I can’t wait for this!
I hope to see you all there!
Nothing Without Us- An Aurora Nominee!
I’m super excited!
Nothing Without Us has been nominated for an Aurora Award for Best Related Work. This anthology of short stories is so important to me. It features my short story The Descent and I couldn’t be more thrilled!
Nothing Without Us is an anthology of short stories that are written by authors who deal with disability, mental illness or are neurodiverse. Here’s a bit about the book:
We are the heroes, not the sidekicks.
“Can you recommend fiction that has main characters who are like us?” This is a question we who are disabled, Deaf, neurodiverse, Spoonie, and/or who manage mental illness ask way too often. Typically, we’re faced with stories about us crafted by people who really don’t get us. We’re turned into pathetic, tragic souls; we merely exist to inspire the abled main characters to thrive; or even worse, we’re to overcome “what’s wrong with us” and be cured.
Nothing Without Us combines both realistic and speculative fiction, starring protagonists who are written “by us and for us.” From hospital halls to jungle villages, from within the fantastical plane to deep into outer space, our heroes take us on a journey, make us think, and prompt us to cheer them on.
These are bold tales, told in our voices, which are important for everyone to experience.
You can get your copy here: https://renaissance-107765.square.site/product/nothing-without-us/117?cp=true&sbp=false
Voting for the Aurora Awards
I’m just so thrilled that a book containing my story has been nominated! I’m doing a happy dance for sure!
Axel Rose and the Deathly Quest – A Flash Fiction Story
He gazed out at the mass of people, all dressed in different costumes.
Within the mass that was the Harry Potter Fandom Convention, true glory awaited one person. Axel knew that it was going to be him. He had dressed as Harry Potter. It was an easy if not terribly inventive costume. His friend Frederick had dressed as Professor Quirrell, complete with a purple silk turban. If Frederick pressed a button, the back of the turban fell away and Lord Voldemort would be looking out at you.
Axel knew that somewhere within this sea of people, the three Deathly Hallows were hidden. He would have to use all of his cunning to find them. He looked at Frederick and nodded. “Tell me what I need to do. What’s the first clue?”
Frederick looked at the paper that had been included with every admittance to the convention. It was made to look like a scroll that came from Hogwarts. “It reads ‘Fear not gentle hero, true glory awaits. The first Hallow can be found, hiding at the Gates’.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Axel said.
“Fucked if I know. I just came for the limited edition Funko Pops.”
Axel thought hard. “There are no fucking gates here!” He said.
“Yes there are,” Frederick said. “Look.” He pointed out the window and they saw a group of Death Eaters swarming around the grounds. “No, Axe, look lower.”
Axel did and saw what looked like rails that ran in the ground along the edge of the grass. “What the fuck is that?”
“Drainage gates.” Frederick said.
Axel and Frederick ran outside towards them, but their path was blocked by a band of Dementors. “You’re not getting my soul, you bitches!” Axel yelled. He held out his wand and made sure to swish and flick it in the proper way. “Expecto Patronum!” He yelled. When the tip of his wand lit up, thanks to the batteries inside, the Death Eaters fled and their path ahead was clear.
“That’s some quick-thinking sir.” Frederick said.
“I know.” Axel said. “Let’s get looking.”
They began to scour the drainage gates and they were just about ready to admit defeat when Axel spotted something. Dangling from a gate rail, there was a small silver chain so thin that he had almost missed it. He pulled the chain up and there was a small black stone. “The resurrection stone.” Axel whispered. He pocketed it. “What is the second clue?”
“’Be brave, gentle hero, for it is forbidden. You will find the second Hallow in darkness where it’s been hidden.’” Frederick said.
Axel let out a sigh. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“I told you, I don’t know.” Frederick said. “I just came for the wands.”
Looking around outside, Axel looked for anything that would be dark. His first thought was the dark hoods of the people dressed up as Death Eaters, but that seemed unlikely. He had no idea what to look for.
“Axe, what about here?” Frederick said pointing to the map.
Looking at it, Axel saw that they had made a dark forest not too far away from where they were. They approached the small copse of trees, complete with a sign that read ‘The Dark Forest’. Entering the Dark Forest, their way was stopped by a group of three people dressed up as Aragogg the Acromantula. It came towards them hissing.
“Not today fuckers!” Axel cried. He brandished his wand, flicked it the right way and said “Incendio!”
The trio playing Aragogg stomped away as quickly as they could. “Asshole!” they said.
“Go fuck yourselves!” Axel shot back.
“Do you have to be so volatile?” Frederick asked. “You’d probably have more friends if you were nicer.”
“Whatever, let’s look for the Hallow. Which one do you think it is?”
“I would assume that the Elder Wand would be last. We’re probably looking for the Invisibility Cloak!” Frederick said.
“Why would the cloak be in the fucking Dark Forest?” Axel asked.
“How should I know? Can we look for it now?”
They began to look at the different trees within the small circle that was the stand-in for The Dark Forest. They had gone all out and even added fake spiders along the trunks of the trees with lights and music to add atmosphere. Axel looked for the cloak amongst the trees, but there weren’t that many of them. Axel looked in the leaves and along the trunks and saw nothing.
Turning to Frederick, Axel said “I don’t see any fucking cloak anywhere.”
However, it was Lord Voldemort that looked back at him. Frederick had turned around so that Axel was addressing the back of his head. “We meet at last, Axel Rose as it was fated we might.”
“Dude, seriously? Voldemort’s mouth isn’t even moving.”
Frederick let out a groan and turned around. “You have no imagination. Listen, here’s the thing. I already have the cloak.”
“What the fuck?” Axel said. “You could have said something.”
“It was wrapped around a tree that you walked past.” Frederick said. “I just wanted you to feel like you’ve contributed.”
“Thanks asshole.”
“See,” Frederick said. “This is why you don’t have friends.”
“What’s the next clue?” Axel said.
Frederick looked down at his sheet, but never got the chance to read it out loud. The lights in the forest went dark and so did the canned music. A strange mist had begun to form within the trees and Frederick looked really worried.
“Think of a happy memory.” Frederick whispered.
“The fuck?” Axel said softly.
A Dementor had glided into the copse of trees. Axel would have thought that this was just another person in a costume, but there was one thing that made him think otherwise: the Dementor didn’t touch the ground. It let out a wheezing breath that sent shivers down Axel’s spine and held out one grey skinned hand towards them as it glided closer.
“Shit!” Axel said.
Buy Little Yellow Magnet from Amazon and Kobo!
Jamieson Wolf has written a compelling story about navigating multiple sclerosis and cerebral palsy. His story will touch your heart, make you cry, then laugh, and inspire you. A touching memoir with a bit of magic…and tarot! ~ Theresa Reed, author of The Tarot Coloring Book
Jamieson Wolf 