Eliwood S. Gheist

Hello, friends! We are well past the beginning of April, which means if I was the type of person to feel like she was going to write a blog post at the beginning of everything month, I’d be feeling pretty guilty right about now.

Ahem.

Anyway…

Writing Updates

Physical copies of Bludeye Beach are now available! When we opened Hook & Quill Press, we decided to launch our digital books ahead of physical versions. The short explanation is that physical books require additional steps to be ready, and as a very fledgling crew, we wanted a “practice run” of releasing digital books first. So I got the privilege of first seeing my book available on other people’s kindles and phones, and then a second round of privilege of seeing my book in my own hands.

I would describe myself as a lifelong writer. Even as a little kid, I was telling stories, asking my mom to write them down before I was able to do so. So now, at 37, holding my own book … there’s not really enough words to describe it. Some kind of blend of pride, anxiety, and feeling overwhelmed. I often struggle with big emotions, and this is definitely one of the biggest ones I’ve ever felt.

And honestly? The biggest feeling right now is that I want to hurry up and do it again.

I drafted Bludeye Beach in November 2023, which was meant to be a standalone, self-indulgent little romp in a string of projects that never went anywhere. I truly had no way of predicting that this would be the book that I finally could pour myself into. More importantly, this was the book that made me want to improve myself as a writer enough to make it as good as it could be.

I definitely didn’t plan to write a sequel. Or outline plans for a third and fourth. (I swear that’s where the story ends.) (No, seriously.) (I swear.)

But, November 2024, Return to Bludeye Beach came into being. And while I took a break to draft Eyes Shine Silver in Moonlight (an unrelated project) and the first draft of Below Bludeye Beach in November 2025, Return has been my focus, to hopefully release in 2027. I’m currently in the middle of writing the fourth draft, with most of the major plot and structural changes completed in the second and third.

And the scariest part of Return to Bludeye Beach is … I’m really happy with it?

No, hear me out. I got beta reader feedback, I built structure outlines, I tore through the paces and rebuilt them, and …

Look. There’s a part of me that thinks Bludeye Beach is phenomenal, and delightful, and something I love with my entire heart and soul, and the best thing I can produce. I’m not quite ready to say, it’s the best thing I can produce so far. But I’m so proud of how Return to Bludeye Beach advances the established characters, tackles more nuanced themes, and advances the mythology of the inner world. I love how Edie and Milo’s relationship develops, I love the weird and wild plot, I love spending time with all of these beautiful and wild characters.

I’m so excited to see Return up on the shelf next to Bludeye. (I may even have a color scheme for the cover picked out.) But I’m so not ready for it.

But I’ve lived with anxiety for just as long as I’ve been a writer. If I waited until I was ready for everything, I’d never get anything done.

What I’m Into

Not that I haven’t already been rambling enough …

Recently, I watched a horror movie with my bestie, as is our habit. We both enjoyed it thoroughly, but because I’m a glutton for punishment, I checked around online for reviews.

Friends, they were brutal.

Strange Frequencies: Taiwan Killer Hospital was a fun homage/nod to an established, very popular horror movie, Gonjiam Haunted Asylum. Strange Frequencies made no attempt to hide this; they name-drop Gonjiam about a third into the movie, show very obvious “if you know, you know” moments, and it’s listed as a clear inspiration. And yet, Strange Frequencies also manages to be its own, unique story, in a very fun way. (If you’re into that kind of thing.) (And by that kind of thing, I mean found footage horror movies featuring body-morphing scares and a bunch of people who really should have known better get killed off by pissed off ghosts).

But it wasn’t original enough. It wasn’t shocking enough. And in most of these reviews, it was too obvious what was going to happen.

As if we didn’t all know this going into Gonjiam Haunted Asylum in 2018.

But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t recognize myself in these same reviews.

I’ve been down the novelty rabbit hole more than a few times. Enough to have made the mistake, over and over, that just because I’ve seen this before, means it’s not worth seeing again.

As if all of human history isn’t just … making the same mistakes, falling in love the same way, and learning the same moral lessons over, and over, and over again.

And … I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t yawned my way through folks who were arguably closer to my current age than my then-age, who tried to instill the same lessons of “even if you’ve seen it before, it’s worth seeing how it’s executed now.” Or maybe a little more succinct. And a little more eye-rolling.

There’s a lot to be afraid of in regards to aging. Failing health, longer lists of regrets and mistakes, losing friends and loved ones. But all 37 years of living have given me experiences, and these experiences … I don’t know, man, it sounds pretentious as hell to say that these experiences are giving me a chance to understand stories on a deeper, more emotional, more spiritual level. But I think I’m gonna have to be pretentious.

It’s those big emotions, man. They take time to process. Even when I’ve seen them a hundred times before.

(And seriously, if you’re into found footage, haunted building horror films, Strange Frequencies: Taiwan Killer Hospital is a very fun way to spend 90 minutes.)

Closing

If you read all this way … thank you! This one got away from me a bit. And unlike all the wisdom and experience I’ve gained while trying my hand at pushing my writing out into the world, I’m not gonna be editing this one. This is all free-flowing thoughts, friendos!

Stay safe out there.

-Eliwood