A Twisted Faire was born of boredom.

Sort of.

I had an idea for a wickedly evil faire that wound its way about people who were unsuspecting. The story itself was started during the famous NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) in 2016 but it never seemed to find its legs. I worked on it on and off for a few months after getting to the fifty thousand word mark but it never spoke to me.

The muse was very quiet about this book and I’m not sure why. I put it in the drawer and ignored it as an abandoned story. I knew it was dark and I knew its basis was deep in the throes of my depression at the time. I fumbled with it.

The story, it seemed, was like an old scab that I couldn’t help but pick at. I was revealing my own darkness within its pages. So when it stopped talking to me, I stopped trying to listen to it. I went and worked instead on the first book of my Unseen novel and a few fanfictions. Nothing really pushed me along except for An Unseen Magician. The others seemed so blase.

That changed in the winter of 2018 when suddenly A Twisted Faire woke up.

Much like what happens in the novel itself, something woke up within me to finish it during the last remains of NaNoWriMo 2018. My muse began to work again and this time the story was to become the very darkness I had been resisting.

I exposed raw nerves within its pages, embraced my darker writer nature, and ploughed ahead to finish it.

I finished A Twisted Faire in December and its edits by June. After it was queried, I shelved it again as too different, too unusual, to attract attention.

But then a friend asked me if I had more books ready to be read. Which is how A Twisted Faire ended up going on to be published through indie-publishing, starting a whirlwind of activity. The cover came together, the editing polished it up, the layout went along.

Then came that important moment of publishing. When it happened, I realized what I was doing.

I was testing my own ability to deal with rejection and speculation. Would people see my story for what it was or what it could have been? Would I have exposed too much?

I’m not sure.

But I’m glad I tried.

Blogs written: 23/365

Stacie Hanson