Books and Affiliated, NaNoWriMo, Raw

A Day in the Life

So NaNoWriMo is in full swing, and…I am in a killer reading mood. Yeah. I wrote a bit during the first week but fell off the horse quickly. This will be the first mark against my perfect November record. I’m not crying. I’m not even stressig over it. The reason I have a perfect record is because the third year I didn’t participate at all because I was afraid of that score. This year, the fear was there. It was. But I signed up anyway. I’m not going to finish and I’m okay with that.

My writing commitment is not as strong as some people say it should be, but…

I published two books.

I have a third book finished and ready for editing.

The only person I have to report to is myself. And that’s something I want you to realize, too. No matter where your writing history is, you write for yourself first. Sound too narcissistic? Tough, kid. You’re going to realize how many people will jump at the chance to tell you their high and mighty opinion. How egotistic is that? They’ll also tell you what you’re doing wrong. But that’s not their place to say.

NaNoWriMo is fun. It’s a community of writers inspiring and encouraging other writers. But I’m going to bow out of this round and catch up on some old friends (Jules Verne, Ray Bradbury, etc), but writing is in my blood. I can’t go long before I whip out the notebook. And, hey, I made GREAT headway on a new story! That counts for a whole lot.

If you’re in the Rockford area, you can come out and see me this December at the Beloit Library Author Meet and Greet.


Fanny T Crispin


Tea, Autumn, and NaNoWriMo

It’s officially November, friends. Here in the midwest, we are enjoying crisp, autumn days with fiery displays of color on the trees. It might rain one day. It might be a glorious sunny day perfect for sweatshirts and hot tea.

This year for NaNo, I’m struggling to feel committed to my word count (to writing at all, really). I’ve taken to finishing knit and crochet projects as procrastination. I should be really inspired. This is the time of year to take off in a glory of feathered words and fly across the pages. Sadly, such is not the case.

My writing buddy for the year suggested a relaxed NaNo–breaking the rules a bit. In her mathematical genius, she said we should write 417 words a day…because that would be exactly a quarter of the traditional NaNo. I’m about 30 words shy of that on Day Two.

Hey, can I count my blog?

I have a volleyball game tonight, then I’ll curl up in my bed with a good notebook and get to work. One friend recommended writing before bed as a way to curb my insomnia. After about an hour, it actually works. 😉 So my first NaNo year, I wrote every morning at 6:30. This year I’ll write every night at 10:30. Wish me worthy writing.

Here’s my recipe for you:
First thing we make you feel better
Next stop, we pull it all together
I’ll keep you warm like a sweater
Take my hand and hold on forever  -Rob Thomas

Fanny T Crispin

Books and Affiliated

Changing Worlds

On one side lies Fantasy, and the other Legacy

When I finish writing a book, there’s such a rush of relief to finally be done with a project. I usually take some time off, give myself a vacation, and ignore the Muse’s insistent prodding to begin again. But now that I have taken publishing seriously and am building my craft, there’s another avenue I like to take when finishing a writing project. I edit.

I have a number of finished products waiting on the shelf for their chance to shine. I have them lined up in the order they will be published. With Sir Ivan’s Train, I’m waiting to hear back from my editor for the first book, and now that I’ve finished the second book, I need to focus on something else until I’m ready to edit Sir Ivan’s Train. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present for 2017 Legacy of the Wolf Wind. Yeah, sorry, you won’t be able to read it for two years yet.

Changing worlds is a refreshing activity for writers. You really don’t want to edit something fresh off the writer’s block. You’re going to miss more than you realize and won’t be able to do it justice. My “self-proclaimed professional opinion” is to drop it like a hot potato and dig in your closet for something old, something new, or something fresh! Legacy of the Wolf Wind is a strong shift from Sir Ivan’s Train. I neglected the modern world entirely to create a fully immersed land filled with myth, legend, and legacy original to this world alone. I actually received this story from a dream I had…long ago. It was strange…

I think you’ll really enjoy this story. It is surrounded in mystery and intrigue, and each character harbors their own secrets. In this world, the past hunts the present, and when the winds of change blow in, there’s no stopping them.

Thank you for reading.

This has been,

Fanny T. Crispin (aka FanTC)

Books and Affiliated

Back to Books

–And Other Topics

You all are a bunch of bookworms!

A friend made that comment to me recently, and I had to laugh because it was true. My friends are all talented writers or artists in their own right. We are in different stages; some are published, some are in the midst of writing, some are hidden writers, and others are just beginning to awaken their inner writer. There was something intrinsically unique to growing up in our close knit social setting.

I remember growing up. My mother ran childcare as a favor for a friend, so two of my best friends were over every week for fun and adventure. For years, we ran wild, limited only by our own imagination, and with six acres of land which included dark woods, flowering fields, babbling brooks, and colorful gardens, there was nothing we could not conceive. Many hours were spent in creative abandon, many days chasing the sun and the stars.

There is something magical when people–no matter the age–come together with minds full of ideas. I remember nights seated around our kitchen table just eating cookies and shooting the breeze. Sometimes we were rolling in laughter over stories and tall tales we spouted to each other. How many wild ideas had we conceived on those nights? How many world problems had we solved?

Because we did that, too. We weren’t just kids all the time, we discussed every relevant problem under the sun. We practiced our opinions in the safety of friendship, we learned how to bend our ideals and allow ourselves to be open minded. We didn’t all agree, even for how close we were, there were still differences of opinions. The kitchen table was an open floor format for anyone to speak up, even if they wanted to be utterly ridiculous to change the subject. That was cool, too. We didn’t get hung up about problems, we let the conversation take its natural course.

We’re all grown up now and, like I said, maturing into accomplished authors. We don’t get to spend nearly as much time together. Some of us are getting married, some in serious dating relationships. A few people have been added to ‘The Collection’–as we often call it–and others have left for grand adventures. We’ve moved out of the Blue Castle with its acres of dragon-infested, fairy-spotted, danger-lurking territory and the kitchen table setting has changed, but when we get together, the story is the same as always. I suppose that’s the gift of a childhood friendship. We don’t feel the need to “grow up”, we have always included the relevant matters, and we can still talk nonsense with all the seriousness of the world.


Books have always been a passion of mine. I loved to read. My friends loved to read. My parents didn’t let us fill our days with television and video games, so we read a lot. I ate up fantasy fiction books mostly and sprinkled in a few biographies, classics, and horse books. Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen were my heroes, I think I read every one of their books before realizing it was basically the same story repeated…

One girl meets boy, some drama, girl gets boy, other girl surprisingly gets a boy too. The End.

When I could comprehend the language, I bit into science fiction genres to feed my addiction to Star Wars and Trek. I consider myself well versed, but am humble enough to admit I missed a lot of what some people consider to be essential reads. I’m also honest enough to say certain books never even interested me.

Little House on the Prairie? Let’s be real. I was too busy chasing outlaws with Zane Gray and Louis L’Amour. I’ll wager my Chick Bowdrie Texas Ranger to your Laura Ingalls any day.

But I’m not here to debate essential reads with anyone. We all have our own flavor in books, and I feel we should respect each other in that regard. You may refer a book, but you may not condemn or scoff a person for choosing not to read. Not on my blog, at any rate.

Tallyho, friends


Fanny T Crispin


Gardens – Real and Imaginary


Spring has arrived. The memory of winter is melting into the forgotten realms. It is this time of year that I feel the most creative. I get out and dig my hands deep into the soil, sow tiny seed pods, and let the water from the hose run down my arms. The sun is warm and not yet hot. Strong winds fill the trees and rustle unfurling leaves with an impatience I myself feel during this season. I impatiently await sprouting flowers, I hover over wet soil for green shoots, and I keep myself from picking at weeds-or-could-they-be-flowers? plants.

My flower garden is small. Because of my impatience and visionary expectations, it is mostly filled with figurines. Mushrooms, pinwheels, gnomes, fairies, and–yes–even a garden wizard I found on clearance one autumn day last year. Although, clearance or not, I was going to own that wizard. I see strange plants coming up and can’t identify them. This frustrates me to no end. I keep checking and re-checking them for signs of familiarity, but there are none. I want to pluck them out, but I refrain, because they might be the very thing I intended.

Although, most likely, they might be weeds.


It’s this spring time season that turns my thoughts to the imaginary. I dream of fairies, watch them flutter in my peripheral, and longingly stare at the landscape to catch a glimpse. As a child, I fanciful named myself a female Peter Pan (he was played by a woman all those years), and that same refusal to age bred within my spirit. I’m still a twelve year old child. Sure, I work three jobs, pay bills, and can drink alcoholic beverages when it strikes my fancy, also coffee, but when I lay my head down at night, listening to the lull of leaves brushing against my pirate ship tree house, I return to my youth.

I account this to the reason that I write young adult books. I never cared to even read adult fiction. It’s surprisingly different from YA and I found it doesn’t capture my attention. I read books that I can fly through, ones that set my spirit free. In like manner, I write the books that inspire my inner Pan. Life is too short for serious stories.

I’ve had people judge me accusingly for not reading certain books–“classics”, or other worthy works of literature. The truth is, I hate it when people force their interests on me. I try very hard not to do it to them, because they might not be capable of appreciating my same ideals. With some cases, they just might not have time! In like manner, it’s difficult for me to enjoy a work of literature when it is being shoved in my face. With that being said, please, share you book loves! But respect my decision if I choose not to read them. One book will not a life-long friendship make, and neither will it tear asunder a preexisting relationship.

So when it comes to the books I’ve written, you really won’t find me harping on them too much. Within my writerly circle, yes of course I’ll want to expound on the latest plot or character development, but so do we all. I won’t beg you to read my books, or tell you how amazing I think they are. Your time is valuable to you, I want you to read a book for your own interest, on your own time, so that you’re able to enjoy it. And if you love the book, if my words made you laugh, or shiver in excitement, if your imagination ran wild even for a moment, than that’s all I need to hear. What makes you happy, makes me happy. Because that’s how the world was meant to be–putting others before thine own self.

In the words of Ellen Degeneres, “Be kind to one another” and Dream Big!


Fanny T Crispin