A Preview of The Reanimator’s Soul (TRM#2)

October 15, 2023October 8, 2023 Kara Jorgensen1 Comment

The Reanimator’s Soul, book 2 in the Reanimator’s Mysteries series, comes out October 24th! If you would like to preorder it, you can do so here, and paperbacks will be available closer to release day. To whet your appetite, here is the prologue for The Reanimator’s Soul.

Prologue

The Test

Herman Judd awoke in the dark. For a long moment, he lay there, distantly wondering if he was dead and staring into blackness was all the afterlife had to offer. His breath rattled in his chest, sending a throbbing pain through his neck and into his arm. The dead didn’t breathe, and they didn’t feel pain, as far as he knew. Even without light enough to see, he knew he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Blinking, he tried to remember. He was fairly certain he had gotten dressed for work that morning, but everything beyond eating breakfast in the clinic’s dining room felt hazy and grey. Wherever he was, it was too dark to be the dormitories and too quiet to be one of the wards. There was always light, even at night, and surely, he would have heard the moans of the sick or the quiet chatter of the nurses and orderlies by now.

Slowly sitting up, Herman let out a groan as his head swam. There was nothing to ground him in the disorienting darkness except the pain radiating from the base of his skull. It ran into his shoulder and down into his arm, where it felt as if a swarm of fire ants was gnawing at his nerves. Am I blind? The panicked thought quickly abated as he raised his uninjured hand and saw its shadow ahead of him in the dark. Not blind but hurt. How? A chill washed over him as he batted away the sheet covering his chest and arms. Whatever the reason, he had to get out. Something was wrong. Every hair on his body stood on end as he groped along the icy ceramic table beneath him for anything that might tell him where he was. Inching ahead, his fingertips brushed something solid. He grabbed it and snatched his hand away with a shudder at the alien yet horribly familiar sensation. A body. No longer a person but inert flesh, dead and already cooling. He had dealt with enough bodies in Green-Wood Cemetery to know what they felt like, and he swore he would never wake one again.

Herman’s mind reeled as he scrambled away toward the table’s unseen edge, putting as much distance between him and the body as he could. This had to be a mistake. Or a prank. Yes, he must have fallen asleep on a gurney, and Joe decided to teach him a lesson by parking him in the morgue. Herman pressed a hand to the base of his skull, then ran his fingers down his prickling, half-numb arm. But he didn’t remember falling asleep. Then again, he didn’t remember getting hurt either. Taking one step too far, his legs collided with a cart of tools. They hit the floor with a resounding clatter that sent a jolt of pain through his temple. For a long moment, Herman stood frozen cradling his arm. When no one came, he released a tremulous breath.

Carefully stepping over the fallen tools, he groped forward in the absolute darkness until his fingers brushed the cool plaster of the wall. He tried to imagine what the morgue beneath the clinic looked like. He had only been down there once, and it was months ago. The day he arrived at the Institute for the Betterment of the Soul, the doctor had brought him down to the basement and asked him to demonstrate his powers. The doctor’s gaze on him had been so unnerving he scarcely breathed, let alone memorized the layout of the room. Herman opened his mouth to call out but stopped. If he yelled for help and Joe or the others found him, they would know how much they had shaken him by leaving him with all the bodies. No one else knew about his powers, and they wouldn’t if Herman had anything to do about it. That was the whole reason any of them had come to the institute: to be normal.

Or you could send one of them to find the door, Herman’s mind traitorously whispered as he stepped forward and his fingers brushed against the metal cabinets that housed those yet unclaimed. If he closed his eyes, he could feel them calling to him like a siren’s song. At Green-Wood, he could walk past a mausoleum and tell exactly how many people were in it. Now that his head had cleared, he could sense one hidden in the cabinets and the body on the table behind him. This time, there would be no jewelry or valuables for them to hand over, but if he told them to find the door, they would answer his call. The temptation to reach for his powers welled inside him for the first time in months, as natural as breathing. Before, he had been thankful to feel normal for a time, to not feel the constant surge of magic beneath his skin, but standing afraid in the dark, the tendril of energy reaching across the void for the nearest body was a welcome comfort. Even after everything, his powers would still come if he needed them. Herman’s eyes snapped open as pain lanced through the base of his skull. Rearing back with a yelp, he yanked the energy back, and it scattered like beads from a string.

The thought came through the fog with sudden clarity: his being in the morgue wasn’t a mistake or a prank; it was a test. Perhaps the doctor had left him in the morgue to see what he would do. If he used his powers to find his way out, it would only confirm Herman needed more rounds of the stronger treatment to break him of this insidious habit. He had only had that regimen once, and it had left him sick for weeks. He had been so exhausted that even the thought of going to the graveyard again, no matter how good the potential haul, left him seconds from vomiting. The doctors only prescribed it to those who wouldn’t submit and still relied on their unnatural propensities instead of their senses and wits.

Squaring his shoulders, Herman straightened. He had both senses and wits. He didn’t need the mindless dead to do his bidding because he was afraid of the dark. It was like the doctors said, if the treatments didn’t work, it was because he wasn’t trying hard enough. He didn’t plan on letting the doctors down. No, this time, he was going to prove his mother and everyone else who doubted him wrong. Inch by inch, he made his way across the seemingly endless room. With each step, his breathing grew louder in his ears and the urge to reach for the dead fluttered to the surface. When his hand brushed against the cold metal of the doorknob, he shuddered with relief. Herman’s heart pounded in his ears as he fumbled with the lock and stumbled into the long hall to find the basement empty as a tomb. The door quietly clicked shut behind him as he took a step into the dim light. Confirming he was alone, Herman leaned against the wall and drew in a shaky breath. A thin laugh escaped his lips. He had done it. He had escaped the morgue without using his powers. He passed the test.

Herman’s heavy steps echoed through the basement as he made his way to the freight elevator at the end of the hall. His finger still hovered above the button when the gears squealed to life. The elevator rumbled and hissed like a steam engine as it descended, shaking the ground beneath Herman’s feet. Through the metal grate, he could see a man inside. For a moment, he thought it might be Joe, but the instant he caught a flash of the other man’s fair hair in the gloom, he knew it was the doctor. That familiar flicker of trepidation passed through him as the other man’s eyes raked over his form from behind the cage door. As always, the doctor was inscrutable, his face a mask of stillness that betrayed nothing. Herman hated that he never knew what he was thinking. Most of his other bosses or marks he had no trouble reading, but never the doctor.

When the elevator shuddered to a stop and the doctor yanked open the grate, Herman plastered on a wide grin. “Sir, I think I’m cured! You left me in the morgue, and I didn’t wake a single one!”

The doctor stared at him for a long, calculating moment before he said, “Let’s speak inside, Mr. Judd.” Ignoring his pained gasp, he grabbed Herman’s arm and pulled him back toward the morgue. “Has anyone seen you?”

Herman shook his head.

“Good. We wouldn’t want anyone to hear about the nature of your problem, would we?”

“No— no, sir. Of course not.”

“Then, how fortunate that I was on my way to check on you.”

“Could we talk upstairs instead?” Herman asked but immediately regretted it when the doctor gave him a sharp look.

“The more you avoid it, the less I believe you. If you’re cured, as you say, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind being in the morgue a few minutes more.”

“Yes, sir,” he murmured as the doctor unlocked the door and ushered him inside.

The sudden brightness as he threw on the lights made the back of Herman’s head throb anew, but the moment he opened his eyes, they landed on the half-covered body on the table. The current of power within him surfaced again, begging him to let it help, let it reach for the dead. If he raised the dead, he could still run, and he would never have to worry about the doctor or his all-seeing gaze ever again. He would find new cemeteries to rob far away from here, and he could start over alone. But the voice inside of him was that of a criminal, a liar, and a freak. Silencing the voice, Herman ripped his gaze away from the body and turned to find the doctor watching him as he kicked the fallen instruments aside. Herman stifled the urge to flinch under the other man’s gaze. Even after six months, it still unsettled him, the way the doctor seemed to look through him rather than at him. At times, it felt like he was dissecting him with his eyes, as if he could peel apart his layers and see what lay beneath. The doctor treated him for those thoughts as well. His fanciful ideas and paranoia were a weakness of character, among many others.

“Tell me about your experience, Mr. Judd. You said you believe you’re cured?” the doctor began as he dropped his ring, cufflinks, and tie pin into a wooden box on the counter.

Herman straightened. “Yes, sir. Or close to it. I used only my sense and wits to get out of the room. I didn’t touch any of the bodies.”

“Are you certain?” the doctor asked, his gaze lingering on the disturbed sheet.

“I didn’t wake any of them. I didn’t know where I was at first and touched that one, but that was it.” Swallowing hard, Herman chose his words carefully. The doctor seemed to know when people like him were lying, and he wanted to be better. He wanted to be free of this. All he had to do was stay out of morgues and graveyards. “I— I was tempted, but I resisted.”

“Ah, but you are still tempted,” the doctor replied as he rolled up his sleeves.

Herman’s heart pounded in his ears. He couldn’t have the stronger treatment, not again. He would rather go back to jail than go through that again. “Only a little, but that means the treatments are working, right? It’s been six months. How long do you think it will take before my powers disappear completely and I’m cured?”

“You have been an especially hard case, Mr. Judd. You have reformed as far as you are capable, but ultimately, you may not have the strength of character needed to be free of it completely.”

“No, I can do it, sir.” His injured arm flashed with pain, but he ignored it along with the desperation in his voice. “I’ll even submit to the stronger treatments again. Please, don’t give up on me. I don’t want to be like this.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Judd. This isn’t a decision I take lightly, but we will have to terminate your position.”

“No, please, I need this. I can’t go back. I can’t.” When the doctor took a step toward him, Herman instinctively shrunk back. He shouldn’t have moved; he was only proving the doctor’s case, but every fiber of his being told him to run at the cold, assessing look in the other man’s eye. “I don’t understand. I passed the test. I didn’t use my powers.”

“Don’t worry, you will be put to a far greater use.”

The doctor’s smile should have put him at ease. A far greater use. Maybe he would send him to work at the sanatorium in Long Island. His heart pounded as if his body knew what his brain could not accept. Herman’s back hit the door. The doctor watched him with his head cocked and a faint smile playing on his lips as a light sparked in his hand. Herman watched in horror as veins of electricity raced up the doctor’s fingers and pooled in his palms. No. No, it couldn’t be true. The doctors weren’t supposed to have powers. They created the treatments; they were the successes the others were supposed to aspire to become.

“You’re a—”

A mocking grin stretched across his lips as electricity crackled down his hand and reached for the world beyond. “Yes, fortunately, dead men can’t tell secrets. Now, can they, Mr. Judd?”

Before Herman could turn for the door, the doctor shoved his palm into his chest. The air ripped from his throat as every nerve in his body sang. His muscles clenched as he futilely struggled against the doctor’s hold. His powers groped for the nearest corpse, but before he could reach, his wildly beating heart seized and fell silent. The smell of burnt flesh and hair drifted to his nose as he hit the ground. The world narrowed to the black rubber of the doctor’s boots as Herman Judd released a final, shuddering breath and saw no more.

Once again, The Reanimator’s Soul comes out October 24th. If you would like to preorder it, you can do so here.

Why Oliver is Important Rep to Me

October 8, 2023October 6, 2023 Kara Jorgensen1 Comment

As is a common theme with people from marginalized groups, growing up, I didn’t see any autistic characters in fiction (or at least none that read as overtly autistic). Of course, we have plenty of hyperfocused, brilliant characters like the inventor from Flubber or Milo from Atlantis, but those characters didn’t really portray the struggles of being autistic. While I wouldn’t want to be neurotypical, being autistic in a society built for neurotypicals means always feeling like you don’t fully grasp a situation or that everyone seems to know things innately that you do not. These characters didn’t show that. Everyone likes to dunk on Sheldon from Big Bang Theory for being fairly sucky rep as he’s a self-centered asshole, but I did appreciate that Sheldon struggles with things the others find “normal” because he’s autistic. Overtly autistic characters who aren’t just slightly quirky geniuses were practically non-existent.

Then, there’s also a multifaceted element of spite.

For background, I’ve known I was autistic since I was about fourteen. I figured it out on my own and took steps up until official diagnosis because, frankly, being officially diagnosed can make your life harder and it’s costly, so I haven’t gone for a full evaluation. But I have known for a over half my life that I am autistic. The college I went to for my bachelors has a degree in ABA, and when I realized what ABA was, I was like HELL NO (if you don’t know, please look into why ABA is traumatic and basically conversion therapy for autistics). On top of that, a woman in my graduating class who is NT wrote a picture book about an autistic girl’s experiences, and I was just… less than thrilled that no one was critiquing the fact that she was writing from an autistic perspective when she isn’t autistic. She’s just someone who wants to be a special education teacher. Autistics get talked over a lot in regards to our experiences and lives, and after trying to write more neurotypical characters, I decided to lean into neurodivergence in my writing.

If you look back at my first book, The Earl of Brass, it’s pretty obvious that Eilian is AuDHD (ADHD + autism). At the time, I had wanted to portray him as someone with ADHD, but when I look back, I realize he’s probably autistic too with his special interests, food issues, and some sensory issues. Hadley, the love interest in that story, also comes off as autistic. Oops.

When I decided to write The Reanimator’s Heart, I made the purposeful choice for the first time to make a character overtly autistic. I wanted Oliver to be someone who embodies my experiences as an autistic person. I wanted a character who is an adult, and a queer adult at that, who moves through life trying to take care of himself while managing a job, friends/relationships, and his own needs. This doesn’t mean he doesn’t need accommodations. The Paranormal Society’s building provides him an isolated bedroom off his laboratory, and a quiet room in the library appears where he can calm down when overstimulated. Even with his closest relationships, Oliver still needs help sometimes, but neither Gwen nor Felipe belittle or infantalize him. Despite having help and setting his life up in such a way that he isn’t constantly burnout, he still gets overstimulated or has a shutdown.

Ultimately though, Oliver is an adult man with a job he is good at and a partner who loves and supports him. So much of what we see about autism is aimed at the neurotypical parents of autistic children, which leads to autistic adults being infantalized by professionals and other adults. It is something I despise and many other autistics, regardless of support needs, despise. I wanted to have Oliver be clearly an adult who still struggles with sensory issues or losing his ability to speak when upset due to being autistic, but he still is able to live fairly autonomously and be successful in his job and love life. I’ve also made it very clear throughout both books in this series (book 2 comes out October 24th, btw) that his partner, Felipe, loves and supports him. He doesn’t find Oliver to be a burden, and expresses that to him when Oliver fears he is one. Often in stories, neurodivergent characters are seen as annoying or burdensome to their partners, and I wanted to make it clear to other autistic readers that they aren’t burdens and that there are people out there who will love them because of their quirks, not in spite of them.

Oliver is the rep I needed as a twenty year old and still need now, and my hope is that other autistic people will see themselves in him too.

the reanimator's soul · Writing

One Month Until The Reanimator’s Soul

September 24, 2023September 23, 2023 Kara Jorgensen1 Comment

I am so excited because in less than a month, The Reanimator’s Soul (The Reanimator Mysteries #2) comes out in ebook and paperback. During October, I’m going to be sharing more of the story along with some fun tidbits about why this book came to be, what it’s about, etc.

Today, I want to whet your appetite by giving you some things I listened to and looked at while working on The Reanimator’s Soul.

First up, we have the YouTube playlist for The Reanimator’s Soul. These are songs that I think relate really well to the story but were not necessarily things I listened to on repeat while writing that (those were weird ambience tracks). Some highlights that might give you the tone:

“Against the Kitchen Floor” by Will Wood encapsulates Ansley and Oliver’s past relationship pretty well as well as the scars Oliver has from that relationship. Will Wood writes a lot of music neurodivergent and/or mentally ill people can relate to.

You’ll also notice a few song from Poor Man’s Poison. They are quickly becoming one of my favorite folk(ish) bands. They sing a lot of about social injustices, the rich v. the poor, and they are catchy as hell. It works very well for a book about how medicine can uphold white supremacist ideologies.

“Where You Go I Go” by Fight the Fade felt like the perfect song for Oliver and Felipe’s relationship, like so spot on I made my partner listen to it. There’s plenty more on the “soundtrack” for this book, so I hope you enjoy it.

And I cannot give you previews without sharing the infamous Pinterest Board for The Reanimator’s Soul.

This is one of my favorite things to share because I get to throw a bunch of random photos and quotes at you and let you concoct your own plot for the story. I have a lot of face-casting pictures for the characters along with some pics of Victorian things you might expect to see, and plenty of moody quotes to hammer home those feelings.

If you haven’t preordered The Reanimator’s Soul yet, there’s still time. It comes out October 24th, 2023 at all major retailers. The Google Play preorder link will be up VERY soon (my apologies for my Google Play peeps), and paperbacks will be available closer to release day since I can’t put those on preorder ahead of time.

the reanimator's soul · Writing

The Reanimator’s Soul Cover Reveal

July 16, 2023July 16, 2023 Kara Jorgensen2 Comments

I have been sitting on this cover for a few weeks now, and I am SO excited to share it with you. Once again, I worked with Crowglass Design to create the perfect cover for Oliver and Felipe’s next adventure. I thought book one was the best cover I’ve ever seen, but book two upped the ante. It also fits perfectly with what happens in this book, but I can’t give it away.

If you haven’t read book one, you can grab it here in ebook, paperback, or audiobook.

The Reanimator’s Soul is the second book in the Reanimator Mysteries series and will be out October 24th, 2023. You can preorder the ebook now, and the paperback will launch in October.

Check out the cover along with the blurb, content warnings, and the preorder links below:

Manhattan, 1897
An autistic necromancer, his undead lover, and the case that could destroy everything.

When a necromancer turns up dead, Oliver and Felipe think it will be the perfect, straightforward case for their new partnership. That is, until it leads them to a clinic promising a cure for magic, but they aren’t the only ones investigating the Institute for the Betterment of the Soul. Oliver’s ex, Ansley, is in town, and he’s certain the clinic isn’t the paragon of righteousness it claims to be.
Forced to help Ansley infiltrate the institute, Oliver fears he is out of his depth in his work and in love as old wounds and bad habits resurface. But Oliver isn’t the only one struggling. Pulled between his cases, Oliver, and his daughter returning home for the summer, Felipe is drowning. Just when he thinks he finally has everything under control, a new reminder of his untimely demise threatens to throw his life into a tailspin once more.
Between festering wounds and secrets, Oliver and Felipe’s lives stand upon a knife’s edge. To face the evil lurking behind the clinic’s genteel smiles, they must stand together or face the destruction of the place they call home.

CWs include but are not limited to/subject to change: Gore, blood, violence, murder, descriptions of dead bodies, on page sexual content, ableism toward autistic people, discussion of past sexual assault**, period specific homophobia and language, medical abuse, conversion therapy

**as a heads-up, this comes up as a discussion between Oliver and Felipe about consent and how, being neurodivergent, that can look different. There is no on-page in-depth description of the event itself. It felt important to include this scene/discussion as autistic people are more likely to be sexually assaulted than allistics.**

The cover for The Reanimator's Soul by Kara Jorgensen. A black background with blue figures. Two men facing away from each other. Between them is a line connecting them and a brain inside a circle in the center. Around the brain are neuron/lightning shapes and an all seeing eye

You can preorder The Reanimator’s Soul at

Once again, thank you for stopping by, and I hope you will share this post or pictures of the cover on social media if you’re excited about The Reanimator’s Soul.

The Reanimator's Heart · Writing

The Reanimator’s Heart is out in Audiobook!

July 9, 2023July 2, 2023 Kara Jorgensen1 Comment

We interrupt your regularly scheduled post with an important announcement:

Stay tuned next week (July 17th) for the cover reveal of my next book, The Reanimator’s Soul!

The title feels pretty self-explanatory, but yes, The Reanimator’s Heart is now out in audiobook! The audiobook is narrated by Jack R. R. Evans, who also narrated the audiobook for Kinship and Kindness. I think Jack did a fantastic job and really captured Oliver, Felipe, and everyone else.

the audiobook cover for The Reanimator's Heart written by Kara Jorgensen and read by Jack R. R. Evans

The audiobook for The Reanimator’s Heart is releasing wide, which means it’s not only on Amazon/Audible, but Kobo, B&N, Google Play, library systems, Spotify, Chirp, and more. I’m not going to link to every retailer, but if you get your audiobooks from a different retailer, check it out as it is probably there. I hope you all will check it out. If audiobooks aren’t your jam, you can also find it in ebook and paperback. The audiobook for book 2 is also scheduled for next year!

Libby

The Reanimator's Heart · the reanimator's soul · Writing

What’s in the Works Right Now

June 18, 2023June 12, 2023 Kara Jorgensen1 Comment

I thought I would use this blog post as a way to update all of you on what I’m currently working on and when it should be coming out, especially since I forget to update the WIP page… sorry. Some of it also isn’t super quantifiable, so it’s hard to toss it up there with percentages of done-ness. Mostly, I just forget it exists. I blather a lot about this stuff on Twitter, but the algorithm there bites and a lot of people have left. If you have already seen all this info, then you are free to go, as I say to my students.

The Reanimator’s Heart Audiobook

I am currently proofing the audiobook files, and by the time this post goes live, hopefully I will be done and on my way to approving the file and kicking it through the system. Because that approval process can take several weeks, I can’t give a clear date on when it’ll appear at your favorite audiobook retailer, but the hope is that by the end of the summer, the audiobook for The Reanimator’s Heart will be up at Audible, Kobo, Chirp, and all other major audiobook retailers. The narrator who worked on Kinship and Kindness, Jack R. R. Evans, is narrating TRH, and I think he’s done a really great job on it.

Estimated ETA: Summer 2023

The Cover Reveal for The Reanimator’s Soul

I’m currently working with Crowglass Design on the cover for book 2, The Reanimator’s Soul. My hope is to have the cover reveal in July as it should be done by then. At the time of writing this post, I haven’t seen the cover draft yet, but from what my designer has mentioned, I am super excited to see it finished. I think you all are going to like it.

EDIT 6/12: I saw the full draft of the cover, and it is GLORIOUS. Seriously, I am so excited to show it to all of you because it is *chef kiss* as it fits the story perfectly while still matching book 1 and looking amazing. The cover reveal will still probably happen in early July.

Estimated ETA: July 2023

The Reanimator’s Soul Book

I am hard at work on writing/finishing up The Reanimator’s Soul and it is still on track to be out October 24th. I recently redid the blurb for it to make it more specific/snazzy, which you can check out below. If you don’t remember the old one, good. It was too vague and dull, but I needed something for early marketing materials. Once I have the cover, I’ll talk more about specific things in the book (like tropes(?) and such). The paperbacks will be available for order about a week before October 24th, but you can preorder an ebook copy now. I will try to get the audiobook out in 2024, but that will depend on my narrator’s schedule.

An autistic necromancer, his undead lover, and the case that could destroy everything.

When a necromancer turns up dead, Oliver and Felipe think it will be the perfect, straightforward case for their new partnership. That is, until it leads them to a clinic promising a cure for magic, but they aren’t the only ones investigating the Institute for the Betterment of the Soul. Oliver’s ex, Ansley, is in town, and he’s certain the clinic isn’t the paragon of righteousness it claims to be.

Forced to help Ansley infiltrate the institute, Oliver fears he is out of his depth in his work and in love as old wounds and bad habits resurface. But Oliver isn’t the only one struggling. Pulled between his cases, Oliver, and his daughter returning home for the summer, Felipe is drowning. Just when he thinks he finally has everything under control, a new reminder of his untimely demise threatens to throw his life into a tailspin once more.

Between festering wounds and secrets, Oliver and Felipe’s lives stand upon a knife’s edge. To face the evil lurking behind the clinic’s genteel smiles, they must stand together or face the destruction of the place they call home.
-the new blurb for The Reanimator’s Soul

ETA: October 24th, 2023

2024 Things

Trousers and Trouble (aka Paranormal Society book 2)

This is sort of a prequel book about Bennett, Ruth, and their friend Rory. I haven’t forgotten about this book. It’s just been put to the backburner in order to work on the Reanimator Mysteries books. Unfortunately, writing is a business and I need to work on the thing that is selling better, and I have not felt super drawn to write it yet. I was going through some shit emotionally, and this book is meant to be about trans joy. I need to get back to that to do their story justice.

A Book of Companion Stories Set in the Paranormal Society/Reanimator Mysteries World

If you’re a newsletter subscriber, you have already received a copy of “Flowers and Flourishing” and “An Unexpected Valentine” as a thank you gift for subscribing. These stories along with several others will eventually be published as a companion novel/anthology. At this point, I don’t know how many works will be included or if it will be out 2024 or 2025 because publication will depend on me getting distracted and writing random side stories. My hope is to have at least a few more side stories with Oliver and Felipe as well as other novellas involving side characters who work at the Paranormal Society.

The Reanimator Mysteries Book 3

My hope is to have one reanimator book out a year, probably in the fall since they’re sort of spooky books. With the goth vibe, October seems like a good idea, so my plan is that book 3 will come out October, 2024. I will not comment on what it’s about, but I have quite a few ideas. All-in-all, I think there will be at least 4 Reanimator Mysteries books, so this one will not be the last we hear of Felipe and Oliver.

Writing

Planning for Pantsers

June 11, 2023June 9, 2023 Kara Jorgensen1 Comment

I fully admit that I am a pantser by nature. I love to dive headfirst into writing and figure it out as I go… until it stops working and I hit the wall bug on a windshield style.

Over the years, I’ve tried to devise a way to balance out my discovery writer side, which I need to be enthused about writing, with my need to know where I’m going to avoid creating a colossal, unsolvable mess. I like to call this planning for pantsers, which sounds like an oxymoron, but if you’re someone who wishes they outlined but hates it immensely, some of what I mention below may be helpful to you. As with all writing advice, none of this is prescriptive. Trial and error is necessary to find your process, and what works for one book may not work for the next.

A Retrospective Outline

I have a whole blog post about this, which goes into more detail, but the basic idea is that I make an outline of what I’ve already written. I started doing this because I have a brain like a sieve and forget what I’ve already written, what threads I’ve added, details sprinkled in, etc. This caused me to reread my work-in-progress REPEATEDLY to the point that I would waste so much time rereading instead of writing that I was aggravating myself. To avoid rereading the whole thing, I would make an outline broken down by chapters which contained a bulleted list of what happens, including any important details or setting chunks, etc. that I might need to remember later. I have this as a Google Doc that I can leave open while I work on Microsoft Word (where I write my books).

This outline can be as detailed or sparse as you need, but the point of it is that you can easily recall what you already did in the book. You can always go back and add color coding or comments or whatever you need to make it more useful to you. I tend to add dates or days of the week if the timeline is important. If you are someone who goes back and forth fiddling with things, make sure to update your outline regularly to reflect that. As someone who does fiddle with things from the last chapter or so, what I do is update the outline once I’m about two chapters past it (ex. I will add chapter 6 to the outline once I’m on chapter 8) to avoid having to revise the outline regularly.

Sarra Cannon’s 3 Act Structure Outline

I love Sarra Cannon’s videos on Youtube, and I’ve taken both of her classes. She’s a really fantastic author who is eager to teach and share the resources that have helped her along the way. Her channel, Heart Breathings, has a lot of useful information for new authors and those who are further along in their careers.

Something I realized I struggled with was balancing the plot and threads of my stories to keep the pace from being “too slow.” I still think I write more emotionally-based, slower books, which is fine, but it was something I decided to work on. I watched Sarra’s video series on plotting your novel, and in the videos, she has a workbook that you can download for free to help you parse out the major chunks of your story. This was really helpful for me because it kept me from clumping things together or spacing them too far apart. To be clear, this isn’t a formulaic structure either. This is meant to be the bones upon which your story is built, but things can be moved around, skipped, etc.

I liked this method because while I don’t 100% adhere to the guidelines, it helps me figure out on an act-by-act basis what needs to happen, where I’m going, etc. At this point, I plan an act, write the act, and once I hit about 3/4 of the way through it, I start planning the next act of the book. This has helped me to have structure and foresight without ruining the discovery aspect of my writing. Sometimes I also have chunks of story in my head, but I can’t quite figure out where they go. This outline has helped me to solidify that before I make a mess for myself. If you haven’t already guessed, I do not like making a mess for myself and will avoid it at all costs, even if it means having three different outlining methods all at once.

Using Note/Scene Cards

Remember when I mentioned having scenes in your head but not knowing where to put them? Making note cards might be a solution for you. I like using physical note cards (as opposed to using a digital whiteboard or the features on Scrivener) because I’m a visual learning and being able to physically move, crumple, or alter a card just works better for me than a digital one. That, and I can’t get as easily distracted with them as I can with anything on the internet or a digital program. I am already easily distracted, and the moment I change windows, I’m a goner.

At this point, I don’t write out a card for every scene. I only do it for the major ones, whether that’s major for a side plot, main plot, character development, etc., but I don’t do it for every single scene. The purpose of them for me is to avoid forgetting something important. Sometimes I have ideas I want to add that I don’t know where to put, so they can’t be added to the main outline, but if I have them as a scene card, they hang out in the pile. Then, when I flip through the stack every once in a while, I see it and go, “Oh! Yes, I need to figure out where this goes.” Repeat that about twenty times for everything in the latter half of the book, and sometimes I actually figure out where it needs to go or at least what it needs to come before or after. That’s really what the cards are for, the general order.

For me, these tend to be scant, like “[REDACTED] turns up dead” or “Oliver runs into his ex.” You can obviously be as detailed as you need or use the front/back of the cards for different things. What I like to do is color code the cards by act. Act 1 is yellow, Act 2 Part 1 is green, Act 2 Part 2 is blue, Act 3 is purple, and the colors are represented as a stripe on the edge of the card or as a strip of washi tape. As I write the book, I put a little check in the bottom corner of the cards to mark that I wrote the scene. The cards help keep me organized while allowing me to move things around and plan as needed.

Other Things I Do That Help Me

Edit as I go- I will give the caveat that I’m not editing for perfection. I’m just tidying up and beefing up the scenes I worked on the day before. Sometimes I go back and plant things that are needed to be cohesive (foreshadowing and such), so I don’t forget when I do edits weeks later.
Edit on an act-by-act basis-once again, tidying and reacquainting myself with what I’ve already written to maintain cohesion and make sure I haven’t forgotten any threads.
Have a running notepad document with random stuff I need to add or what should happen in the next scene/chapter I will be working on. If you have a brain like a sieve, leave yourself notes.
Work on the assumption you will not remember an idea- my brain is like a browser with a hundred tabs open, so I leave myself notes, reminders, etc. for everything. Never assume you’ll remember because you won’t.

the reanimator's soul · Writing

A Preview of The Reanimator’s Soul #1

May 21, 2023May 6, 2023 Kara Jorgensen1 Comment

I thought this week I would show a little preview of The Reanimator’s Soul to whet your appetite, even though we’re still quite a few months away from release (October 24th). As a reminder, The Reanimator’s Soul is the sequel to The Reanimator’s Heart. If it seems interesting to you, you can preorder The Reanimator’s Soul or you can buy book one here. (Also, please pardon any typos as it hasn’t been proofread yet)

Chapter One

Omnia Mors Aequat

Few things pleased Felipe more than seeing Oliver getting along with his family. Since Teresa came home for the summer two weeks earlier, they had spent a lot of time together. At first, Teresa seemed confused to see Oliver at Felipe’s side every time they came to visit. She was accustomed to her mothers being a couple, but her papa had never brought someone home to meet her. He told himself that it would just take time for her to get used to it. Where Teresa seemed perplexed, Oliver was so anxious about saying the wrong thing or making things awkward between Felipe and his daughter that he spent much of their time together in silence. During the first few days, Felipe feared the summer would be filled with his two favorite people dancing around each other. It wasn’t until they went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Felipe caught Teresa and Oliver hovering over a display case discussing which organs went in each canopic jar that he knew they would be all right. Right now though, Oliver looked like he regretted ever agreeing to this visit.

Raising the practice foil again, Oliver grimaced beneath his fencing mask and braced for impact as Teresa came at him. He deflected the first blow with a grunt only to get poked in the chest when she easily twisted away and hit him on his unprotected side. Felipe smiled to himself. He had trained her well. From the time she could walk, he had taught her all he knew about fighting. She had inherited generations of techniques that had been passed down the Galvan line along with those he had learned during his years at Colonel Monstery’s dueling academy. Knowing how to protect herself was a useful skill for a young woman growing up in the city, even if she didn’t plan on becoming an investigator like him. More often than not, the most dangerous monsters wore human faces.

Unlike Louisa or Oliver, she took to it like a duck. “Teresa, go even slower. He’s still a beginner, and, Oliver, loosen your stance a little and don’t be afraid to use force against her. You’re six inches taller and quite a bit heavier than her. Use that to your advantage,” Felipe called from the sidelines.

“But she’s—”

Before Oliver could finish the sentence, Teresa feinted to the side and kicked the foil’s guard, sending the sword flying with a clang. It was a cheap and unsportsmanlike trick, but it got the point across. Oliver stared at his empty hand with a curious frown as Teresa laughed and went to fetch his sword. She was enjoying herself far too much.

“Let’s take a short break.”

“Thank god. My arms are starting to shake,” Oliver said as he pulled off his mask and wiped his face against his shoulder.

Despite Oliver being sweaty and red-cheeked, Felipe found himself very tempted to kiss the damp, inky curls clinging to his forehead. Oliver looked quite dashing in his fencing whites with the color rising in his usually pale cheeks, but what Felipe truly appreciated was that no matter how many times Teresa outfenced him or Felipe corrected him, he just took the criticism and kept trying. A grown man not throwing a tantrum after being repeatedly bested by a nineteen year old was a good sign.

When Teresa offered Oliver his sword, he took it with a weary smile. “You are an impressive fighter. You could be the next Jaguarina with skills like those.”

“If only the name hadn’t been taken when I started doing competitions.” Pulling off her helmet, Teresa winced as her thick, brown hair caught on the inside. “I think it suits me much better.”

“Don’t compliment her too much, Oliver, or she won’t be able to get her helmet back on,” Felipe said with a laugh.

Her hazel eyes brightened with mischief as she gave Oliver a theatrical bow and returned to her place. Felipe knew he should correct her for that cheap shot she used on Oliver to prove her point, but he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Even though she was nearly as tall as he was now, seeing his little girl fight still filled him with pride. At her age, he had just joined the Paranormal Society and was already throwing himself headlong into danger. She, at least, got the opportunity to live a peaceful life with parents who loved her and let her become the person she wanted to be without too much interference. Any fighting she did now was because she wanted to and chose to.

“Should we try parrying again?” Teresa asked. “I promise I won’t play dirty this time if you promise not to go easy on me.”

“For god sakes, Teresa, let the poor man catch his breath!” Louisa called from the backdoor as she carried out a tray laden with food and cutlery. She let Oliver take it from her and set it on the garden table as she shook her head at Felipe and Teresa. “I leave for an hour, and you two turn the yard into a paste.”

“Piste,” the other Galvans answered in unison.

“Whatever. The dogs need to go out, so there will be no fighting until they’re done. Come and sit. Agatha made lemonade and bienenstich.” Turning back to Oliver, she said, “Do you see how he’s turned our daughter into a common street brawler?”

“Mama, I might be a street brawler, but I am anything but common.”

Felipe bit back a laugh at the long-suffering look that crossed Louisa’s features. As she opened her mouth to speak, Agatha swept into the yard with Kuchen and Pastel in tow. Pastel darted off to yap at a squirrel while Kuchen sidled over to Oliver and eyed the cake. Planting a kiss on Teresa’s temple, Agatha pulled her close even as their daughter wrinkled her nose but leaned into her Ma Ma’s affection.

“Did my little Liebling tell you about how she nearly got kicked out of grammar school for teaching the other girls to fistfight?”

Teresa rolled her eyes. “No, Ma Ma, we’ve been too busy trying to teach Dr. Barlow the basics of sparring.”

“I would love to hear about it later,” Oliver replied as he cut each of them a piece of the creamy layer cake. “You and your papa have been very patient teachers. I didn’t realize I wasn’t your first pupil.”

“Oh, yes, she helped pay her exhibition fees by teaching the younger girls at her fencing club. We’re quite proud of how far she’s come, but Felipe can’t claim all the credit for her talent. Two of my brothers were quite accomplished fencers in their younger days. I never took to it, but it must have skipped a generation.”

Taking his plate, Felipe settled beside Oliver on the hip-high wall surrounding the patio while the ladies took the chairs at the ironwork table. A bee bumped against his hand as if drawn to the honeyed almonds on the cake. Between refreshing bites of cream, Felipe watched the others. Sitting between her mothers, the resemblance was obvious. Teresa had Agatha’s hazel eyes, though hers were more to the brown, and Louisa’s wide mouth and dark hair, but the rest of her ended up somewhere in between. Her skin was slightly browner than Felipe’s, and the combination of Louisa’s compact muscle and Agatha’s added height gave her long, strong limbs and a hearty disposition. Even if they shared no blood, her coloring and personality ended up close enough to Felipe’s that no one noticed she looked nothing like him. As Agatha said, people saw what they wanted to see.

How had nineteen years gone so quickly? He could still remember carrying her on his shoulders during parades and trips to the shore. The squeal of her voice when she won her first competition. How close yet so far away those days seemed. At the gentle pressure of Oliver’s hand on his arm, Felipe gave him a tight smile and tried not to think of the hundreds of little regrets he had in regards to his daughter. The sheer volume of things he had missed due to work was shameful, but no more. He had a second chance to do things right, and he would be there for her while she was home no matter what.

“So, Oliver, how are you settling back in at work?” Louisa asked, topping off their drinks.

“Well, actually.” Moving his plate to let Kuchen sit in his lap, Oliver held the dog close. “It feels like I never left, and now that I’m off light duty, things finally feel back to normal.”

“And you, Felipe? How is partial retirement going?”

Flashing him a sharp smile over the back of her chair, Teresa added, “Yes, Papa, do tell. How does it feel to finally stay put?”

“It’s been an adjustment but a good one. As I’ve said, I’m hoping we can spend lots of time together while you’re home. It should be easier now.”

Neither Felipe nor Oliver brought up the adjustments they were dealing with in the lab, though Felipe felt Oliver’s eyes on him. That month of light duty where they were stuck in the lab together all day had been rough. While Felipe was accustomed to handing off corpses to Oliver for a closer examination or stumbling upon them in the heat of an investigation, he was not accustomed to how they looked and smelled up close. Or how long that smell lingered on everything in warmer weather. He had vomited during a particularly messy case while Oliver bit back a barely suppressed withering look. For a man who could smell traces of magic like a bloodhound, he certainly didn’t seem fazed by decomposition. He made more of a fuss about the chemicals he used to clean the lab than anything else as they gave him a headache. The past few weeks where Oliver had free reign in the lab and Felipe could go to the archives to focus on the cold cases he was slowly picking apart and researching had been nice, but he was itching to go out on an investigation.

“Well, I, for one, am very glad you’re actually done galivanting all over the country. I was half-convinced that the moment Oliver fully recovered, you would be on the first train out of the city,” Louisa said pointedly between bites of cake.

Felipe stared into his drink. He wasn’t dying to leave New York because he had died and been reanimated. And he still hadn’t told his family about what happened that January or how he was now tethered to Oliver, so there was no way for him to leave the Paranormal Society, let alone the city, unless he took Oliver with him. Felipe swallowed against the knot in his throat. They were all together; now would be the perfect time to tell them everything. With four pairs of expectant eyes upon him, his resolve faltered.

“What can I say, Oliver has been a good influence,” Felipe replied blithely with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Teresa’s gaze shifted to Oliver, her brows furrowing and a look passing across her features so fast that Felipe wasn’t sure if he had imagined it as she turned back to the table.

“What do you all think of going to see The Circus Girl? I know it’s not the kind of thing we would usually go to, but it sounds like good fun and the staging is supposed to be superb.”

“Sure,” Felipe replied without thinking.

Oliver’s grey eyes bore him as he hissed, “But what if we have a case come up?”

At Oliver’s pointed, wide-eyed look, Felipe silently sighed and nodded. “Yes, that could be a problem. Let me know when the performances are, Agatha. I’m sure we can figure out a time that works.”

“And if you do, can we go to Siegel-Cooper and pick out new outfits?” Teresa added brightly. “I have so missed our shopping trips, Papa.”

Felipe smiled and tried to ignore the look of horror on Oliver’s face warring with the happiness of his daughter. They would discuss it later. Poking at what remained of his cake, Felipe found he no longer had an appetite.

***

Once the conversation moved on to Agatha and Louisa’s latest gallery finds, the knot in Felipe’s chest loosened. Before long, the dessert, drinks, and dogs had been brought into the house and Felipe turned his attention back to Oliver. He was tempted to have him work on defensive moves with Teresa again, but Colonel Monstery had always suggested short practice sessions to avoid diminishing returns. On a full stomach, they would probably be even worse. Letting his focus fall to the tether lodged around his heart, he felt for Oliver at the other end. His heart pumped as steadily as his own, but he could feel the undercurrent of fatigue and anxiety beneath it. The length of the visit was probably wearing on him along with more potential trips out, but Felipe didn’t want to leave yet. There was still so much time to make up for. Teresa pulled her hair back and shot Felipe a questioning look that bordered on mischievous. One last match, then.

“How about we give Oliver a demonstration of how uncommon street bawlers fight?”

“Limitations?” Teresa asked with a knowing smile.

“The usual: no purposeful hits to the face and no taking to furs. Street brawler rules apply. Winner at first blood or forfeit.”

An expression between confusion and anxiety crossed Oliver’s face as he looked between the two Galvans. “Do you need my helmet and jacket?”

“Just the helmet. Don’t worry, we used to do this all the time.”

He tossed Teresa one of the practice daggers from his bag and tucked the other in his waistband as he took his position on the makeshift piste. Slipping the mask on, Felipe’s heart sped at the comforting adrenaline of a fight. He relished the way the controlled chaos of sparring allowed his mind to fade into the background until he was nothing more than limbs and motion. As he and Teresa saluted each other and fell into position, he hoped Oliver could feel his excitement across the tether.

For a long moment, they merely circled each other, testing each other’s swords to see who would make the first move. The impatience of youth won out as Teresa struck. She was fast, hitting him with half a dozen strikes in rapid succession, but he had decades of experience. The moment he struck low, her stance changed, and in place of the decorated fencer was his protégé. The practice foils weren’t his or her preferred weapons; they lacked the stability of the sabers they typically used, but they would do. A small smile crossed Felipe’s lips at the realization she was slowly walking him back toward the high wall surrounding the yard.

When she pressed her advantage, he swiveled out of the way and struck until she was the one being backed into the wall. Her brown eyes narrowed behind her mask as their swords clashed with as much strength behind them as she could manage. Her feet slipped in the grass until her left boot struck brick, but Felipe realized her move a second before she did. When her right foot came up to strike him, he caught it and pulled her forward. She tumbled to the ground with a huffed breath. By the time he backed out of reach, she was on her feet with the dagger in her free hand.

Teresa circled him calmly, though he could see her chest rising and falling harder than it had before. She lazily spun the dagger in her hand as if testing its weight. He hadn’t stipulated they couldn’t throw the daggers, but for Oliver’s sake, he hoped she wouldn’t. The moment he reached for his, she charged. Metal clanged as he threw up his arm to parry both her blades in one sweep. When they collided again, they were so close, he could see her brows furrowed and her teeth gritted beneath the mask. Meeting his gaze, a small smile crossed her lips. Before he could move, her hand closed over both swords and she slammed her hilt into his. It jolted out of his grasp as she swung both blades back with her full weight. She tumbled and rolled to her feet, tossing Felipe’s foil aside as she popped up with both her blades at the ready.

This time when she came at him, he was ready. He caught her sword with his dagger and twisted, pressing with all his strength until he was close enough to grab her. With his free hand, he pulled her back flat to him. She struggled in his grip, pushing his dagger back, despite the close quarters. Letting out a frustrated grunt, she drove her elbow straight into his side.

A crack reverberated inside him followed by a flood of pain. Releasing her with a hissed breath, Felipe schooled his features and desperately tried to keep his voice steady at the sudden stabbing with each breath. “I forfeit. The jaguar wins.”

“It’s hardly fair. You always take it easy on me,” she said while looking pleased with herself, “but I will accept your forfeit.”

A wave of concern flickered across the tether, and when Felipe stiffly turned, he found Oliver’s gaze flickering over him as if looking for the source of his pain. When he opened his mouth to ask, Felipe shook his head.

“I think that’s enough sparring for one day. I’m going to get cleaned up.”

Before Oliver could stop him, Felipe took the steps as fast as he dared with what little adrenaline he had left from the fight. Shutting the bathroom door behind him, Felipe let out a pained breath and unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt. The beginnings of a livid bruise bloomed across his ribs where Teresa struck him. He couldn’t blame her for hurting him. She had never had to be careful with him before. He was her indestructible Papa who healed immediately even if she drew first blood. Was. The backs of Felipe’s eyes burned as he perched on the edge of the tub and struggled to kick off his trousers without upsetting his rib. It should have started healing by now. In the past, a cracked or broken rib would have been a temporary annoyance he would have shaken off completely within a quarter of an hour. Now, he would be lucky if it was mostly healed by the end of the day, and it would take even longer if he didn’t eat an egregious amount of meat when he returned to the Paranormal Society.

Felipe put his head in his hands and let his thoughts be drowned beneath the water streaming into the tub. He was good at pretending he was all right; he had done it his whole life. But he wasn’t all right. He should have been dead—he was dead—and in coming back to life, he had gained and lost more than he could have imagined.

One thing was certain, the indestructible Felipe Galvan was dead and gone. And that hurt far more than a broken rib.

If you enjoyed this preview of The Reanimator’s Soul, you can preorder it at all major retailers. A paperback will be available closer to the release date, which is October 24th, 2023.

Writing

Now on Tiktok

May 14, 2023May 6, 2023 Kara Jorgensen1 Comment

This is less of a useful post and more of an announcement post. I have decided to actually use my Tiktok account and promote some of my author/writing stuff on it. You can find me at @authorkarajorgensen on Tiktok or you can click this link.

It won’t exclusively be a place to post promo as no one likes that, but I think it’ll be a useful place to post some musings, some silliness, craft projects that appear better in video than photos, and of course, writing updates. Basically, it’s a lot like Instagram, but the videos can be longer, which makes vlogging about writing so much easier. That and I discovered Capcut, which is an editing app where you can fix your videos up and make them tidier before uploading them to Tiktok. I may have also bought a cheap tripod because having an intermittent hand tremor does not making filming videos easy.

Ultimately, I have been enjoying making videos, like more than I anticipated. I’m also trying to get more comfortable with talking on camera as I am still not accustomed to seeing my face not covered in eczema. It’s weird and a hang-up of mine, but this is helping to sort of break that.

I’m certainly not going to be joining in on any dancing videos or stupid challenges as the kids do, but if you like queer stuff, historical stuff, weird stuff, or books, my account may be of interest to you.

Stay tuned because next week on the blog, I will be posting a longer excerpt from The Reanimator’s Soul. See you all next time!

Writing

What to Do When You Get Stuck

April 30, 2023April 16, 2023 Kara Jorgensen1 Comment

Getting stuck while writing is the worst. Nothing is more frustrating than those days where you actually want to write, you have time, you have energy, but the ideas or words won’t come no matter how hard you try. So what do you do?

Cry.

Sometimes… if you think it’s going to help, but truthfully, this advice isn’t that far off. Sometimes you have a mental block. There is an emotion or thought that is clogging the pipes, and until you get rid of it, there will be no way to go forward. If you do need a good cry, embrace it, or if you think that will tank your ability to write afterward, you might consider writing about it in a journal or spending ten minutes to just dump whatever is in your head. Another version of this is that you’re ruminating on something you’re worried about with your story. Whether it’s a plot hole you need to fill or imposter syndrome, freewriting for a few minutes can eliminate that block.

Backtrack.

One of the most common things for me when I get stuck is that I screwed up somewhere a few pages back, and somehow, my subconscious knows it but I don’t. Reread your story and see if you can figure out what went wrong. Sometimes it’s someone acting out of character, a missing beat/plot point, emotions that just aren’t ringing true, or an imbalance of action to introspection. Once you edit that bit and recalibrate, the words should start flowing again. Most commonly, this tends to be a character issue. We’ve written ourselves into a corner or in such a way that moving in the direction we want doesn’t make any sense. Using a reverse outline can help you avoid this sort of thing, though it does still happen.

Rest.

I can already hear my past self hissing at this suggestion, but sometimes it’s because you are fried and need a rest. Yes, I know you’re on deadline. Yes, I know you’re behind. Yes, I know you need to write like that song from Hamilton, but if the words aren’t flowing and you’re just getting more and more stressed, sometimes you need a mental timeout. Therefore, it is time to refill the well. Play some video games, go for a walk, watch a movie or favorite show, do some crafts (my personal favorite/go-to). Do something that recharges you and makes you feel more inspired without draining you.

Work on something else.

This has the biggest caveat because if you have shiny idea syndrome, you will never complete anything, but sometimes you started working on something too early or you have another story that is loudly knocking at your brain, making it difficult to focus on your main project. I had this happen with The Reanimator’s Soul. I had a Valentine’s Day short story that sprung fully formed in my head, so I told myself that I get a week to write that, and then I must go back to my main project. I did it, got it out of my system, and when I went back to my main project, things flowed more smoothly. You may want to give yourself a smaller amount of time to work on the other thing. Once you vent it out, you’ll probably have an easier time. If you worry you’re going to run with it and abandon your first project, then don’t do that.

Hopefully, these ideas will help you get unstuck and be able to work on your project. Above all, remember to be kind to yourself and don’t beat yourself up for needing to rest or having to go back and rework something.