Appetite.
- CC Adams
- May 30
- 3 min read

The past few days and weeks; months, even, have been busy. Writing. Edits. Fine-tuning the publishing schedule. Beta-reading and mentoring. Updating the itinerary for the year - and even as I write that, I think I really need to add the itinerary to the website as a default. All of this, let alone the things outside of being an indie author that keeps me busy. But, in the run-up to StokerCon, what I think about more and more now is how I can't wait to get back from it.
Yes. That's what I said.
Now, no one's forcing me to go to StokerCon. I want to go. I'm going to go. My main motivation for going to StokerCon is to be seen - literally. In a fiction genre where an indie publisher can put out a submission call for a book of some thirty-odd short stories and get over a thousand submissions, standing out can be a tall order. Given that black people in the genre - at least in terms of general convention attendance on both sides of the Atlantic - appear to be a minority, you might think it's easy to stand out as one. The reality is that in a community of new releases, podcasts, Q&As, conventions, et al, you've got your work cut out for you.
Having been to StokerCon in person for the last couple of years (and attending the online variant for the last two years before that) has been great. I get to meet the usual suspects face to face, make some new connects, drum up some new business, keep my ear to the genre ground, etc. Plus, it's time away from the usual routine - taking a degree of R&R, which is great. I don't get a whole lot of R&R or, at least, I (infamously) don't take a whole lot of it.
The irony is that, in spite of that fact, I can't wait to get back to the grind.
There's a saying that's stuck with me ever since I was a kid: if you continue to do what you've always done, you'll continue to get what you've always got. This was told said to me by the brother Royston, loved up in the proverbial arms of his then-new lady. And he told me this in relation to dating - and my lack of success. This rationale factors in now since, for a number of things I do, I've not necessarily done them as well as I should. Or done them well at all.
I've known for a while that I wanted to get leaner, needed to get leaner - but only in the last few months have I finally discovered what works for me to get it done. Ditto for getting bigger and stronger - despite being a seasoned lifter. Phase One was getting fitter and leaner. Phase Two is now adding back the lean muscle lost through dieting, along with enforced rest after the shoulder surgery.
On the author front, rights for my works with Dream's Edge Publishing (novellas But Worse Will Come, Semen, and the novel Closure) have been returned to me, since the publisher has folded. Given that these rights included everything from print, electronic and audio to film and TV, I've got some ideas what I'll do with those works ...but not right now. Not when I've got an upcoming convention that runs the better part of a week on the other side of the world. For the projects yet to see print? Let's just say that they're some of the most audacious yet. And, if you've read Misery And Other Lines, you'll know that's not hyperbole.
This isn't to say that I've done everything right from the get-go. Far from it. The same way that my successes have been down to my method, so, too, have my failures. Similarly, it doesn't mean that when I have a lightbulb moment, it's automatically going to work - no. It just means that I believe I have a handle on it, and can't wait to try out something new.
So, if you continue to get what you've always got when you continue to do what you've always done, what happens when you do something different and get better results?
You get a savage appetite for what comes next. You can't wait to tear into it.
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