The Crystal Candy Newsletter (September 2019)

Well, here I am about to piss off my readers.

I’m really sorry, in advance.

Something kind of occurred to me all at once over the past few days, and it’s that I’m a moron.

When I started Crystal Candy, it was meant to be more fun and free-flowing and supplementary to Misty Vixen. And it was, when I was writing A Warm Place in the beginning. But then that changed. In five short months, it has become not only the thing that I write first and foremost, but it’s become a huge source of anxiety and stress.

To put aside your immediate fears, let me confirm that no, I am NOT canceling this pen name, nor anything that I’m working on. That’s not what’s happening.

Instead, I’m saying that I am relegating Crystal Candy back to what it was supposed to be: supplementary.

Again, I want to apologize. I’m sorry. I honestly wish I had the mental fortitude and endurance to just keep up with everything. Some days, I can. Some days, I do all the stuff I planned on doing, and then do more. Some days, I can hardly fucking write a hundred words.

I’ve dealt with anxiety and depression for basically my entire life, and I’m still dealing with them. One thing I’ve learned is to pick your battles. If something is causing you undue stress, you should really prioritize. And right now, Misty Vixen and Parasexual and Haven and Demoness are my priorities.

So, functionally speaking, what does that mean?

It means that I will have a set word limit for Misty Vixen almost every day, and if/when I hit that word limit each day, if there is time/energy leftover, I’ll work on Crystal Candy. I will try to make an effort to put in at least some work every day, but I definitely cannot keep up this weekly release schedule. It’s just killing me and giving me serious anxiety problems.

So, once more, I’m really sorry.

For now, I’ll be working on Refuge. As I mentioned before, I might also begin working on my survival-horror series, since it’s a lot more interesting. I’ve learned, with some success, how to push past it when what I’m writing no longer interests me, but when I’m really into something, the words flow like a fucking river.