Hello, everyone. This is The Writing Life, my monthly newsletter about a writer of many interests (me, Jason Liegois) and what’s been going on with me and my writing.
Let’s get started.
The Home Front
March was good because of Spring Break and Easter Break, fine times for teachers in the doldrums of the second half of the year. I remember one year that felt like a particularly long one because my wife had moved to a new city (Chariton, Iowa) for a new job, and I was obliged to stay in my hometown of Muscatine, Iowa, to see out a teaching contract I’d already agreed to. Plus, my daughter wanted to see out her senior year at her hometown high school, so I wanted to honor her wishes.
It was around this time, deep into the year, when I began to think of the concept of “rest holds,” the moves made by professional wrestlers during matches when they wanted to catch their breath1. I produced the following poem, thinking I needed a few rest holds to get through the school year2.
REST HOLDS (A Kayfabe Tale)
4.2019
I was just a kid
looking for action
on The Tube
that dominated my attention
when pro wrestling hooked me
like Lou Thesz used to hook.
I loved the big bumps
the spots from Up High
and the soap opera drama aimed at men
and those who would be men.
Some of the wrestlers were
60-minute men,
the ones who could wrestle
All Night Long.
Those matches were packed
with bumps and high spots and
The Big Finish
at the end.
It was an inevitability, especially in
those 60-minute Broadway matches,
that at some point,
one wrestler would get the other wrestler
in a
head lock
arm lock
leg lock
and the other guy or gal
would lay there on the floor,
occasionally trying to
writhe out of their
Iron Grasp.
And they’d always shriek and yell
in agony.
I always wondered as a kid
how they could take that
level of punishment.
Later, however, as the veil of
Kayfabe
was lifted before Y2J was a thing,
I found out those were the times in a match
when they were catching their breath.
They even called them “rest holds.”
I never held it against them, though.
There’s plenty of times in my own life
where I need some rest holds to get by.
Anyway, this month has gone well. On the day this newsletter is published, I’ll be headed up to our state’s capital (Des Moines) because my boy will be hosting an early Easter dinner. I cannot wait. 🙂
What I’m Writing Right Now (Sort Of…)
[NOTE: For more detailed summaries/synopses of the works in progress I discuss below, go to this link. The story below also contains some titles I have been working on but not at the level of the projects I’m discussing this month, so you can find out about them there.
In all honesty, I have not had a good writing month in February. In fact, although I’m not always going to get into numbers every month, I will say I’ve probably written only half as many words as I did in January. I’d much rather write 20,000 words than 10,000, but I’ve got to keep it in perspective. I am going to have a better month in March, however. I’ll have the advantage of Spring Break, for one thing.
[NOTE: For more detailed summaries/synopses of the works in progress I discuss below, go to this link. Also note, all titles except those of my series are working titles. This is the reason for that.]
Father Abraham
What is it?
A short story inspired by one of my friends from the fan fiction world. I was unaware until very recently alternative history stories were allowed on fan fiction sites such as Archive of Our Own (AO3), when I saw one of my friends speculative fiction pieces, this one centered on the Middle East of antiquity times.
This inspired me to think of a scenario: What if the assassination attempt on President Abraham Lincoln not only failed its task, as such plots often do, but one of the conspirators admits to United States authorities the plot was known of by high-level operatives of the Confederate government and military and was supported by them? I would have to think such an event would profoundly affect not just the political careers of Lincoln and Ulysses S. Grant, but the entire progress of Reconstruction, what laws ended up getting passed as a result of Reconstruction, and the status of the US Constitution itself. (Slight spoiler: it will cover the years 1865 to 1884.)
Status:
I’m currently at somewhere around 10,000 words on this project, which if I spend too much more time on it will eventually end up being a novella. I’ve already published Part 1 (out of an expected 4) here. At least I know what I’ll be working on for Prose Night for the next three months or so. Hope you enjoy the read as much as I’ve enjoyed writing this.
It’s been a fun experience for sure, and I hope you check the story out as I build it.
The Land, The River, and The Waste
What is it? An environmental sci-fi horror tale set in a quiet Iowa town on the Mississippi River. In a state where agricultural pollution effects people and the environment are a big deal, the new pollution is getting into everyone…
Status:I’ve been working on this more or less continuously since Halloween night of last year. I’m now at about 37,000 words and I plan to have the rough draft done by the end of this year, but next Halloween would be even more poetic.
The Fool 2
What is it? The sequel to my first book, The Holy Fool. It follows the adventures of ex-Chicago newspaper columnist turned independent blogger journalist Sam “Sonny” Turner, as he and his correspondents struggle to get the news out about America during troubled times.
Status:Number two priority after LRW. Not much work recently, although I have been gathering background material so I remember everything that has been going on in America during 2024-2025. Hopefully I make more progress on this soon.
I’ve been researching all of the historic events in 2025 (and I’m betting I’ll have to do the same for 2026) so I don’t forget what was going on in the world. I remembered I did this for the time period covered by The Holy Fool as well. The first part of the book takes place as the 2008 Republican National Convention was underway, and the climax of the book occurred on the same weekend Lehman Brothers was sliding into bankruptcy. Considering the main character of the book is a journalist and I was a journalist once, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t missing those details.
What I’m Doing Having to do With Writing
This is my current schedule of appearances coming up:
I’ll be appearing at the DSM Book Festival between 1 and 2:30 p.m. with a large contingent of area authors. Come see some of the speakers (it’s a shame I’ll miss Art Cullen ‘s presentation) as well as some good books and authors. This one I’m looking forward to.
From about 4:30 to 7 p.m. May 28, I’ll be outside Burlington By The Book, 301 Jefferson St, Burlington, for an appearance and signing as part of the farmer’s market in downtown Burlington. Chris, the owner at BBTB, has been a longtime supporter of me and other local authors and I’m delighted to be returning there.
Screenshot
Finally, I’ll be at the 11th annual Indie Author Book Expo from 12 to 5 p.m. at the Valley Junction Activity Center. This is one of the bigger book events in Des Moines during the year and I’ll be happy to return there once again.
Hopefully, I might be adding some other appearances before the year is out.
Writing Quote(s) of the Month:
This month’s writing quotes are pure writing vibes.
My bursting heart must find vent at my pen.
― Abigail Adams
Aaaand…
Write only if you cannot live without writing. Write only what you alone can write.
― Elie Wiesel
When and What I Post
Check this out for when and what I post on a regular basis.
How to support me😊.
As always, go to the links on the side if you are reading this on a desktop/laptop or the links on my profile on mobile. If you follow the links, you will be able to buy both the paperback and ebook versions of my books on Amazon. If you just put “Jason Liegois” in Google. you’ll find them on the first page of search results.
I have quite a few places that now carry at least some of my books, some of the many great and fantastic independent bookstores in Iowa and the Midwest. These are the bookstores you’ll find at least some of my work3:
Bent Oak Books, 619 7th St. Fort Madison.
Burlington By The Book, 301 Jefferson St, Burlington.
The Corner and More, 703 Main St., Mediapolis.
Green Point Mercantile, 217 E. 2nd St., Muscatine.
The Brewed Book, 1524 Harrison St., Davenport.
The Black Rose, 116 W. Main St., West Branch
Beaverdale Books, 2629 Beaver Ave. # S1, Des Moines.
Pella Books, 824 Franklin St, Pella.
The Atlas Collective, 1801 5th Ave, Moline, Illinois.
I’m always looking for some new places to place my books, so feel free to hit me up in the comments if you have a suggestion.
For those who are budget conscious among all of you, my books are part of the collections of the Fort Madison, Burlington, and eventually at the Musser (Muscatine) public libraries.
My poetry book The Flow and the Journey is available at Bent Oak, Green Point, Burlington By the Book, and The Corner and More, but it is also available online but not on Amazon. See below.
Not much else to say. All you writers keep writing and everyone keep safe.
Not much else to say. Considering all the unpleasantness of the world around us, I’m lucky for the most part4.
All you writers keep writing and everyone keep safe.
-30-
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
I was stuck hard on what I wanted to write about tonight. It’s been a while since I did a new fiction piece here. I’ve been focused on my longer work for a while, and I would say short fiction is firmly #3 on my priority list (with #1 being novel-length fiction and #2 being poetry1.
However, a friend of mine I know of from Archive of Our Own, one of the bigger fan fiction sites out there, wrote a bit of alternative history fiction for the site. I’ve liked the alternative history genre, so I decided to use one of the biggest events of American history as the inspiration for this piece.
I hope you enjoy it. And as the title suggests, this is only the first part of the story.
From Abraham Lincoln: Second Father of His Country (Andrew R. Roberts, 1982).
Abraham Lincoln sits astride the history of the 19th century as, if not its most significant figure, certainly its most significant political figure. While his two terms in office did not see Lincoln make a significant direct impact on foreign affairs, he was the essential figure in not only preserving the only eight decades-old American democratic experiment, but in refining and strengthening that experiment for a century and more to come.
While F. Scott Fitzgerald said there were no second acts in American lives, he inexplicably must not have considered the life of Lincoln before committing the thought to paper. For Lincoln had a second act nearly as comparable to the first after he left the White House in the winter of 1869 (or perhaps a third act, if one was to consider his time spent as a successful Illinois traveling lawyer and a less successful time spent as a politician).
However, it’s almost staggering to consider this second act, and a good portion of the first act, almost was lost from history due to a twist of fate. While the attempted assassinations of four key figures of the United States government had a profound influence on subsequent events in post-Civil War America, one can only consider the resulting chaos if the Confederate conspirators had succeeded with their plans of 14 April 1865.
This sense of disconcertion increases, of course, when considering the only difference between a fresh start for the United States of America and chaos were a few liters of hard liquor.
13 April 1865, Washington, DC
It was around noon that day when John Wilkes Booth had tumbled out of his bed in the boarding room he called his living space and headed over to Ford’s Theater. He’d worked so often at the venue that he even had his mail delivered there.
Much was on Booth’s mind on the thirteenth of April, the culmination of a conspiracy at that point nearly two years in the making. However, a series of recent events had dramatically altered the nature of the plans against the American president from mere kidnapping to assassination.
Just two days previously, Booth, alongside his confidant and former Confederate soldier Lewis Powell, had attended a speech given by the president in Washington. It was on this occasion Lincoln had spoken of the need to give slaves now emancipated by either the Emancipation Proclamation or the Thirteenth Amendment to the First Constitution the right to vote.
Enraged, Booth turned to Powell and hissed, “That means n****r citizenship … That is the last speech he will ever give.”
He then urged Powell to immediately shoot Lincoln. It is unknown exactly why he did not simply make the attempt himself, whether it had to do with him not being armed at that time or that he considered Powell to be a better marksman than himself. However, Powell, too, begged off the attempt, worried about escaping from the crowd after the attack.
The next day, word of the surrender of Gen. Robert E. Lee and his Army of Northern Virginia three days hit the city. With Lee’s surrender, the capture of the Confederate capital of Richmond, Virginia, and the flight of Confederate President Jefferson Davis and his government from Richmond and toward exile, most observers considered the matter of the Southern rebellion all but closed.
For Booth, however, he felt there was one last hand to be played. General Joseph E. Johnson and his men were still at large somewhere between northern Virginia and the Carolinas, and other forces still not surrendered. And at Ford’s Theater on that day, the card dealer of the universe dealt Booth three aces.
It was at the theater that Booth overheard preparations being made for Lincoln, Lt. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant, overall commander of United States’ ground forces, and their wives to attend the next evening’s performance of Our American Cousin. It was a perfect opportunity for him to make his move.
That evening, Booth gathered his conspirators at the boarding house of Mary Surratt, their regular gathering place. As well as Booth, the crew included Lewis Powell, Powell’s fellow Confederate veteran Samuel Arnold, Surratt’s son John, a Confederate spy, David Herold, and George Atzerodt. All has been willing to undertake the kidnapping scheme, and now, with their beloved Confederacy on the brink of collapse, were now willing to undertake assassination.
And not merely a single assassination, either. It was clear to Booth the entire Union political and military leadership needed to be attacked if there was any hope of turning the inevitable tide.
With this in mind, Booth gave himself the task of entering the theater and then assassinating first Lincoln and then Grant as they watched the play. With his status as an actor who’d performed at Ford’s previously, he would have the least difficulty of gaining entrance to the theater and getting close to Lincoln and his party. Arnold would accompany him, wait outside, and then serve as a backup in case either Lincoln or Grant were able to escape the theater unharmed.
Meanwhile, Powell, accompanied by Herold, would go to the home of Secretary of State William Seward, the most prominent member of Lincoln’s cabinet, to assassinate him. Finally, Atzerodt would go to the Washington residence of Vice President Andrew Johnson and end his life.
John Surratt would be responsible for arranging funds and papers for the conspirators after the assassinations, to avoid the inevitable hunt by Federal authorities. Surratt and Powell’s connections to the Confederate Secret Service extended all the way to one man: Confederate Gen. Braxton Bragg, the former commander of the Army of the Tennessee and former chief military adviser to Jefferson Davis himself. Long disgraced in field command for his failures at Perryville, Stones River, and Chattanooga, his close friend Davis had given him the face-saving position of military adviser, but he’d been eased out of even this position with the naming of Robert E. Lee as the overall Confederate commander and the installation of one of Bragg’s multiple enemies, John C. Breckinridge, as Secretary of War.
Eager to prove his worth to his friend Davis, he began to involve himself in the plots to kidnap Lincoln, even going so far as to siphon funds away from the defense of Richmond to help pay the expenses of the conspirators.
Both Davis and Lee were aware of Bragg’s machinations. Davis was in favor of anything that would preserve the Confederacy, so he gave his unqualified assent to Bragg’s efforts. Lee was not as accepting of Bragg’s efforts as Davis, and informed the president of his misgivings, but in the end he did nothing to stop or hinder the efforts of the conspirators. Having limited dealings with subterfuge, Lee deferred whatever misgivings he had to his president’s judgement, right or wrong.
It would prove to be a fateful decision among all three men.
14 April 1865, Washington, DC
John Wilkes Booth
He was alone in the tavern at noon except for a few derelicts, the barkeep, and a glass with a whiskey bottle in front of him.
Anything to chase away the blues.
Over the past three days, his mood had veered from manic excitement to deep depression, from a knife-point focus to a scattered hopelessness. There were times when he vibrated with energy and purpose, certain that he and his co-conspirators were the only defense against losing the Southern way of life. But there were other times, more frequently now, where he sensed everything was lost.
He refilled his glass and took another shot. Regardless of whether he could save the Confederacy or it was beyond help, he felt in some ways he’d reached the end of his road at just twenty-seven years old. He’d been part of a storied acting family and had found both fame and fortune on the stage. However, he hadn’t stepped on a stage for a month and had no desire to. He’d joked to one of the borders at the Surratt house who’d asked about his absence that the only play he wished to star in was Venice Preserv’d. The man missed his attempt at humor – the play was about an assassination plot.
There was a letter in his coat pocket addressed to Lucy Hale, daughter of a US Senator from New Hampshire. They’d been secretly engaged two months previously. She had little knowledge of his support of the Confederacy and none of the depths of his hatred toward Lincoln.
He’d last seen her at Lincoln’s second inauguration last month. The last letter he’d sent her was at the end of the previous month. He was already mourning the loss of his love, just as he mourned the estrangement from his brother and fellow actor Edwin.
Even if he and his collaborators fully succeeded in their plans, at the very least they would all be on the run, If they were lucky they might be able to make it to overseas, maybe Mexico, the Caribbean, or Brazil. They even still had slavery in the last country. If not, perhaps Britain would give them asylum, or at worst look the other way. The worse scenario, of course, was him getting shot right after he shot the president and Grant. In any case, the well-crafted life and career he’d built over the past decade would be blown to pieces, at the very least.
He’d been preparing himself for the event for some time. He already had the derringer and dagger he planned to use on the president and Grant. But now, just hours before Our American Cousin was to start, he found preparing himself mentally for the task was, to use an analogy, a long leap.
He started at the bottle. He’d not slept, by his own reckoning, for a day and a half. With a deep sigh, he fumbled for some coins and bought a second whiskey bottle to take with him along with the half-filled first one. His intention was to go back to his room, get a drink, lay down for a few hours and wake up refreshed for the task ahead.
He managed to consume two-thirds of one bottle before passing out.
Arnold
He was in a bar he frequented many times in recent months, not to drink but to listen. It was a haunt of many of General Grant’s junior staff officers, and Arnold made a point of trying to unobtrusively listen in to the Union men’s conversations. He’d hoped to get a meal and perhaps some new information to pass along to his Confederate handlers, assuming they were still able to receive information while on the run from Union soldiers.
“…damndest thing, having to make plans for the old man to travel at the last minute,” he heard one young lieutenant say.
“Wasn’t he going to the theater tonight with the President?” a fellow lieutenant said.
“They said they had to visit some of Mrs. Grant’s relations, but in all frankness, I don’t know if the wives get on.”
“The number of people on friendly terms with the First Lady might be counted in two hands,” the second lieutenant said.
“Anyway, they’re on the train to New Jersey tonight. Place will be quiet the next couple of days.”
It took every amount of restraint for Arnold to finish his meal and his pint of beer and not immediately take his leave. His mind was racing, however.
Booth planned to kill both Lincoln and Grant but now it will be just Lincoln. I could either go wait for Booth as planned. But wouldn’t it make sense for me to try and see if I can get the drop on Grant? By himself, Grant might be enough to hold things together. And Booth should be able to get into Ford’s unaided, which is more than I could do.
In fifteen minutes, by the time he finally took his leave, Arnold had made his decision. Fingering the loaded pepperbox revolver he had in his coat pocket, he started to walk over to the New Jersey Avenue station to see when the next train to Jersey left.
#
Just before 10 p.m. that evening outside William Seward’s Lafayette Square home, Lewis Powell entered the home, attempting to claim he was delivering medicine to the Secretary of State, recovering from a fall from a carriage. Herold waited outside.
At the same moment, George Atzerodt went to the Kirkwood House, where Vice President Andrew Johnson was staying. Atzerodt stopped at the downstairs bar and had the first of several glasses of gin.
#
Arnold had found out the train to New Jersey was leaving at 10:15 p.m. The station was close to empty except for a few travelers, more than a couple of whom were soldiers apparently headed off on leave. He hid in the shadows behind a brick column on the train platform, his Colt Walker pistol drawn but hidden behind his back.
He saw a man and woman headed for the platform, the man in an officer’s overcoat and hat, and a dark-haired woman in a gray dressed who, to his surprise, appeared to be cross-eyed.
The lit end of a cigar illuminated the man’s face as they walked past him. Grant.
He waited until they walked past him, then eased behind the man, as soft-footed as possible. Arnold brought the revolver up to the back of Grant’s head. The first click of the gun cocking echoed across the platform.
Suddenly, the shorter man whirled to the right and Arnold could hear the scrape of steel. The general’s dress saber flashed through the air and struck his forearm, but the blade was at an uneven angle and did not cut deep. Regardless, it spoiled Arnold’s shot.
The ball whizzed between Grant and the woman’s heads, splintering the side of a nearby train car. Despite the ache in his arm, he tried to cock the revolver again for another shot.
With a lunge, Grant drove the point of his saber in the center of his gut. Gasping for breath, Arnold was driven to the ground by the older man.
Leaping up, Grant sprinted to the woman. “Julia! Julia! Are you all right?” He wrapped his arms around her shoulder as she knelt on the ground.
“I’m all right, Ulysses,” she whispered, choking back a sob. “I’m fine.”
It started getting darker for Arnold. Grant then knelt over him. “Who are you?” he shouted. “Who sent you? Who sent you?”
He couldn’t catch his breath. With a gasp, Arnold said, “You’re too late. The Illinois ape’s dead.”
His consciousness faded to black.
#
The screams from Seward’s house frightened Herold from tarrying around outside. A bloodied and manic Powell fled outside through the front door and exited into the night.
Atzerodt left the Kirkwood House without seeking out Johnson at all.
Booth still slept.
15 April 1865
Booth
It was morning. Oh my God, it’s morning.
Booth had fallen asleep on top of his bed. It’s morning? What happened? Damn me, I know what happened.
He ran out of the room and the house after gathering what money he had and a suitcase with some random clothing. Booth started to make his way to the train station.
At the first streetcorner, he saw a paperboy hawking the morning papers. He gave the boy a penny, walked down the streets, and gawked at the headlines:
ASSASSINS IN WASHINGTON
GRANT, SEWARD ESCAPE DEATH; SEWARD, SONS WOUNDED
PRESIDENT LINCOLN SUSPECTED TARGET
As he walked rapidly to the station, one thought came to mind: All is lost.
The White House
A young man approached one of the sentries on duty at the north side of the residence. “Excuse me, sergeant?”
“What’s your business?”
“My name’s John Surratt,” the man said. “I have information regarding the attacks on Gen. Grant and Sec. Seward.”
July 1865
Old Capitol Prison, Washington, DC
He walked through the gates with barely a word. He let Col. Rawlins and the three stars on each of his shoulders do the talking.
The orderlies led him to the door of the cell and unlocked it for him.
Lt. Gen. James Longstreet sat in a wooden chair at a dining table, staring through the barred window to the outside. There was a writing desk in one corner, a washbasin in another corner, and a modest cot on the other side of the room.
Dressed in a clean Confederate officer’s uniform, Grant’s former West Point classmate appeared paler than he recalled, but the bigger man’s hair and bushy beard reaching to his chest appeared well-groomed. He saw him pick up his right arm by the wrist and lay it down on the table with his left, and Grant remembered the wound from Petersburg.
“Afternoon, Sam,” Longstreet said. “Here to visit?”
“Actually, I am, Pete. I am,” Grant said.
Pete waved to a wooden chair on the other side of the table. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Grant nodded and sat down. “How have things been with you?”
Longstreet crossed his legs at the ankles as he leaned back and sighed. “In all truth, I would prefer to be back with my wife and children, but I cannot complain about the circumstances of my captivity. I doubt our troops in Camp Douglas had access to coffee,” he concluded, nodding at the tin mug of now-cold coffee on the table. He referred to an infamous camp for Confederate prisoners.
“Glad to hear it, Pete.”
“I’m assuming you had news for me, Sam? You didn’t want to share this with my counselor?”
“This news, I reckon, needed to be given in person.”
Longstreet fixed Grant with a dark stare. “Who’s getting hung, Sam?”
“Davis, Lee, and Bragg. Bragg for arranging it, Davis and Lee for agreeing to it.”
“Gen. Lee never agreed to anyone being assassinated, Sam.”
“He never objected, either, and he had the ability to stop it.” Grant’s expression twisted as if he was in pain. “All the living conspirators captured, of course: Booth, Powell, Herold, Atzerodt.”
“Not the Surratts, according to what I read in the papers?”
“Young Mr. Surratt gave us Davis, Lee, and Bragg in exchange for not charging his mother and leniency for himself – five years imprisonment.”
“Anyone else facing the noose?”
“Some for charges not related to the conspiracy. Gen. Forrest and some of his men have been charged in connection with the murder of Negro prisoners after Fort Pillow. The Swiss colonel in charge of Andersonville in Georgia and his men, too.”
“Maybe you should bring up the commandant of Camp Douglas up on charges, as well.”
“Turns out that possibility is being considered.”
There was a small quiver in Longstreet’s voice. “Am I under consideration?”
“No hanging. There’s a … consensus that those academy graduates who left the US forces to join the Confederacy deserve prison time.”
“Hell of a thing to be going back on your word you gave at Appomattox.”
“I didn’t know there were people hunting for me and my president when I gave that word. It would have been neighborly for Gen. Lee to have given me fair warning about it at the time.”
“I knew nothing about it.”
“And that’s why you’re not getting hung,” Grant shot back. “Those bastards came within an inch of murdering my wife! Every other night I have visions of her getting shot in the chest and having to explain to my children why their mother can’t be with them. Pete, nothing ever shook me like this, not Mexico, not Tennessee, Mississippi, or Virginia. Nothing.”
There was a long silence between them. “How long for me?”
“No more than five years, though even now the president is looking to reduce sentences and I’m putting in a word for you. Voting rights restored after your release, but you’ll be prevented from holding elected office. The enlisted men, the non-commissioned officers, they’ll be left alone. But there has to be a price paid for going against your oath.”
Longstreet gazed out through the window, a blank expression on his face. “Any other surprises?
“The old man’s pushing through a land reform act, breaking up the big plantations, trying to get some of the land to the former slaves.”
“How in the hell is he going to get support for that?” Longstreet scoffed.
“He’s planning on including the white sharecroppers in on the deal, at least a good portion of them,” Grant responded.
Longstreet had a good laugh at that. “Probably a good thing I never got into the plantation business, then.”
“You want to see if I can get you and myself some fresh coffee, Pete?”
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
I’m a bit embarrassed to admit I totally forgot to put out a writing journal for last week (or much of anything else) this past couple of weeks. Call it flaking out over the Easter weekend, call it procrastination with wanting to repost here from my other sites, but it meant there wasn’t a lot on here for what appears to be two weeks. As you might suspect, my writing stats for the past few months has not been the best, but they have been pretty good for the last two weeks.
So, let’s talk about the numbers for the past two weeks and for March overall, :
Writing statistics for the week ending 28 March 2026: Words: 5.042 Days writing: 6 of 7. Days revising or planning: 0 of 7 for 0 minutes. Daily Writing Goals Met (500+ words or 30 minutes of planning/revisions): 5 of 7 days.
Writing statistics for the week ending 4 April 2026: Words: 5,391 Days writing: 7 of 7. Days revising or planning: 0 of 7 for 0 minutes. Daily Writing Goals Met (500+ words or 30 minutes of planning/revisions): 7 of 7 days.
Writing statistics for March 2026: Words: 16,915 Revise/Plan: 90 minutes DWGM: 75%
So, looking good for the past two weeks, and as for the month … better than February, but that’s not saying much in all honesty.
The Year so Far
In fact, if I’m really being honest … the numbers … aren’t really the best at the moment.
Since I had reached 225,000 words written last year (both fiction and nonfiction), I decided I would try to at least equal that total and perhaps even bump it up to 230,000. If I was on track to write 225,000 or 230,000 words, I’d have written between 56,000 or 57,000 words in the first three months of 2026.
My current total for 2026 so far, as of the end of March? 50,209 words.
While that is not nothing by any means, it is nowhere near where I want to be at this point. I had one incredible month of writing (January), one horrific month (February) and one month I missed my target by about 2,000 words (March).
Why, then, have I gotten to this point?
In the end, I think it’s pretty simple. I’ve spent too much time staring at screens other than the ones I’m using to write my stories. I’ve allowed myself to get distracted. No, scratch that – I’ve distracted myself with almost anything other than writing. Also, I’m trying to jump start my main long fiction project I’m hoping I will have a completed rough draft by the end of the year.
The only thing I can do right now is start kicking things into high gear. I’m a long ways away from giving up on my goal, both regarding wordcount and also getting my projects completed. If I manage to get moving this month, I’ll let you know what turned it around for me.
This past couple of weeks, I’ve gotten obsessed with a short story turned novella that is an alternative history story: what if the plot to kill Lincoln not only failed worse than it actually did, but if the United States discovered the Confederacy had provided more direct assistance than was thought to be the case in real life.
I was inspired to write the story after a friend of mine who is on Archive of Our Own, one of the biggest fan fiction sites online, who is writing an intriguing alt history piece involving the Byzantine Empire and Persia, among other locations. I wasn’t even aware you could do alt history pieces there. (I have written fan fiction there myself before). So, my thoughts turned to Lincoln, at least slightly inspired by recent questions of constitutional practices.
It will be a four-part series of four short stories, set between 1865 and 1884. The first part of the story will post here this Friday. The other three will be coming in the next couple months as well.
I also want to get back on track with my sci-fi environmental horror project with the working title of The Land, The River, and The Waste, (I am so superstitious about revealing a real title until I am closer to publishing), set in a little Mississippi River town in Iowa. I’m in the process of writing the second of three big reveals intended to ratchet up the tension in the story. I’ve got an idea for the third reveal that has Stephen King’s fingerprints all over it. I’m looking forward to kicking that into high gear.
Have a good week everyone, and all you writers keep writing.
If you don’t have the budget for a paid subscription, feel free to just send me a one-time payment of whatever you have the budget for.
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
I did all right for the previous week, but I had yet another slump, based on not getting on with the next part of my main story. I had to get some blogging done to actually make up some numbers.
So, let’s talk about the numbers:
Writing statistics for the week ending7 March 2026: Words: 3,259 Days writing: 5 of 7. Days revising or planning: 0 of 7 for 00 minutes. Daily Writing Goals Met (500+ words or 30 minutes of planning/revisions): 5 of 7 days.
My sci-fi environmental horror project with the working title of The Land, The River, and The Waste, (I am so superstitious about revealing a real title until I am closer to publishing), set in a little Mississippi River town in Iowa, has been the bane of my existence for the past week.
Finally, I managed to break the slump with just cutting much of the scene and getting straight to the action. It left out one small scene I wanted to get to, but I can always add that later. One small tip – you never have to write a story in exactly the same sequence in which it occurs. Filmmakers do it all the time, and I’m surprised more writers don’t do this, or discuss doing it, with their own stories.
At the very least, I think I might have more written this week. I’ve got a bit to catch up with. I’m just a bit irritated at myself that I didn’t utilize my spring break better than what I did.
I’m starting to worry about where I am on this yearly total. I’m considering not even checking to see how far I’m behind at the end of the month. However, if I end up not checking, it makes it easier for me to avoid it. Better to face what I need to face and get on with things. I’ll let you know what I decide later.
Have a good week everyone, and all you writers keep writing.
If you don’t have the budget for a paid subscription, feel free to just send me a one-time payment of whatever you have the budget for.
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
This week I’ve actually done … not bad? Maybe even above average?
I’ve been whining (or whinging, as the Brits and Irish so colorfully put it) about doing so horribly at writing productivity for the past month that I don’t know what to do when I actually have some decent notes.
So, let’s talk about the numbers:
Writing statistics for the week ending7 March 2026: Words: 4,744 Days writing: 6 of 7. Days revising or planning: 2 of 7 for 90 minutes. Daily Writing Goals Met (500+ words or 30 minutes of planning/revisions): 5 of 7 days.
For once, I have not flopped on my productivity. Yes, I ended up devoting quite a bit of my creative energies to an alternative history speculating on what could have happened if John Wilkes Booth had screwed up Lincoln’s assassination (as he could have easily done). I was inspired to do this by a friend on Archive Of Our Own, one of the best fan fiction web sites on the Internet (of which I am a modest contributor). I was not aware they accepted historical fiction, so I cooked up something new for them and some other people.
Of course, my sci-fi environmental horror project with the working title of The Land, The River, and The Waste, (I am so superstitious about revealing a real title until I am closer to publishing), set in a little Mississippi River town in Iowa, is the neglected gem I need to move forward on. There’s a scene I’ve been tarrying on for too long. I need to get to people howling at each other and some chaos, yes I do.
Have a good week everyone, and all you writers keep writing.
If you don’t have the budget for a paid subscription, feel free to just send me a one-time payment of whatever you have the budget for.
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
Hello, everyone. This is The Writing Life, my monthly newsletter about a writer of many interests (me, Jason Liegois) and what’s been going on with me and my writing.
Let’s get started.
What I’m Writing Right Now
In all honesty, I have not had a good writing month in February. In fact, although I’m not always going to get into numbers every month, I will say I’ve probably written only half as many words as I did in January. I’d much rather write 20,000 words than 10,000, but I’ve got to keep it in perspective. I am going to have a better month in March, however. I’ll have the advantage of Spring Break, for one thing.
[NOTE: For more detailed summaries/synopses of the works in progress I discuss below, go to this link. Also note, all titles except those of my series are working titles. This is the reason for that.]
The Land, The River, and The Waste
What is it? An environmental sci-fi horror tale set in a quiet Iowa town on the Mississippi River. In a state where agricultural pollution effects people and the environment are a big deal, the new pollution is getting into everyone…
Status:I’ve been working on this more or less continuously since Halloween night of last year. I’m now at about 35,000 words and I plan to have the rough draft done by the end of this year, but next Halloween would be even more poetic.
The Fool 2
What is it? The sequel to my first book, The Holy Fool. It follows the adventures of ex-Chicago newspaper columnist turned independent blogger journalist Sam “Sonny” Turner, as he and his correspondents struggle to get the news out about America during troubled times.
Status:Number two priority after LRW. Not much work recently, although I have been gathering background material so I remember everything that has been going on in America during 2024-2025. Hopefully I make more progress on this soon. I had thought I needed to have a better idea of what the outline of the story was until I found an outline I had written a couple of weeks ago. Oops.
I’m going to mention the next couple of stories below, but currently they’re on inactive status in my writing queue. So, I’ll not mention them for a bit after this edition of the newsletter, although you can always find them on this projects page.
The Yank Striker 3
What is it? This is the third in a series about DJ Ryan, a one-time high school and college football star turned prospective pro soccer player for the underdog Donford FC of London. After facing a setback in his climb to success, he’s relentless in seeking an opportunity to get back on the winning road. (Book one is explained here and Book 2 here.)
Status:Somewhat inactive as of this point. I’m guessing the story won’t be coming out until at least 2027 at this point.
Kayfabe Stories Part 1
What is it? The first in a series of stories featuring Robbie Traynor, a creative writing grad student at the University of Iowa. His thesis project is a novel about a young man seeking to reconnect with his father, a professional wrestler. Robbie himself is from a family of pro wrestlers, but has had little connection with the art – until his research for the novel pulls him closer to a life that horrifies and fascinates him all at once.
Status: Not actively adding to this project, but I am revising it based on the feedback I have been receiving from my writing groups (especially the Midwest Writing Center, shout out to them). With more than 50,000 words into the rough draft, there’s no way I’m abandoning this project, even if I have to self-publish it on Ingram Sparks or whatever.
The home office.
What I’m Doing Having to do With Writing
I ended up getting a new laptop early this month. (Laptop not shown above). I remember hearing a story about how medieval knights wouldn’t name their horses because they’d just end up getting killed right away. Don’t know if that’s true, but I’ve gone thru a lot of desktops and laptops in my day, so I’ll avoid a name.
I wanted to thank The Corner, Mediapolis’ new indie bookstore right on 703 Main St., for hosting an event for me two weeks back. It’s a great local business in a town I used to teach in for a couple of years, so I was happy to be there. I’m hoping to be back there soon and maybe do some writing workshops there. Can’t wait.
I also want to thank Beaverdale Books for hosting me and several other local authors at their local author’s fair last weekend. It was an honor to be there and Beaverdale were fantastic hosts as always.
I’m looking forward to being part of their DSM Book Fair on Saturday, May 2 as well. So, this is my current schedule of appearances coming up:
I’ll be appearing at the DSM Book Festival between 1 and 2:30 p.m. with a large contingent of area authors. Come see some of the speakers (it’s a shame I’ll miss Art Cullen ‘s presentation) as well as some good books and authors. This one I’m looking forward to.
From about 4:30 to 7 p.m. May 28, I’ll be outside Burlington By The Book, 301 Jefferson St, Burlington, for an appearance and signing as part of the farmer’s market in downtown Burlington. Chris, the owner at BBTB, has been a longtime supporter of me and other local authors and I’m delighted to be returning there.
Screenshot
Finally, I’ll be at the 11th annual Indie Author Book Expo from 12 to 5 p.m. at the Valley Junction Activity Center. This is one of the bigger book events in Des Moines during the year and I’ll be happy to return there once again.
Hopefully, I might be adding some other appearances before the year is out.
The Home Front
The principal for my school (my boss) recently talked about how March is one of the roughest times of the year for teachers, and Spring Break is a valuable time for them. Spring Break is a week away from now, and I’m looking forward to it.
I think I wrote a poem which compared teaching to running a triathlon with your mind, but that was the one I sent in to the Iowa Poetry Association for their contest, so I’ll have to hold off showing you that one until I figure out whether it won a contest or whatever.
Any of the rest of it I’ll want for until later.
Writing Quote(s) of the Month:
First, some advice from the King about bad writing.
Bad writing is more than a matter of shit syntax and faulty observation; bad writing usually arises from a stubborn refusal to tell stories about what people actually do― to face the fact, let us say, that murderers sometimes help old ladies cross the street.
― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft
Also, I saw this bit of advice that still applies to writing from one of the English language’s best writers of the 19th century, who lived for a time in my original hometown of Muscatine, Iowa.
I notice that you use plain, simple language, short words and brief sentences. That is the way to write English―it is the modern way and the best way. Stick to it; don’t let fluff and flowers and verbosity creep in. When you catch an adjective, kill it. No, I don’t mean utterly, but kill most of them―then the rest will be valuable. They weaken when they are close together. They give strength when they are wide apart. An adjective habit, or a wordy, diffuse, flowery habit, once fastened upon a person, is as hard to get rid of as any other vice.
― Mark Twain
When and What I Post
Check this out for when and what I post on a regular basis.
How to support me😊.
As always, go to the links on the side if you are reading this on a desktop/laptop or the links on my profile on mobile. If you follow the links, you will be able to buy both the paperback and ebook versions of my books on Amazon. If you just put “Jason Liegois” in Google. you’ll find them on the first page of search results.
I have quite a few places that now carry at least some of my books, some of the many great and fantastic independent bookstores in Iowa and the Midwest. These are the bookstores you’ll find at least some of my work1:
Bent Oak Books, 619 7th St. Fort Madison.
Burlington By The Book, 301 Jefferson St, Burlington.
The Corner and More, 703 Main St., Mediapolis.
Green Point Mercantile, 217 E. 2nd St., Muscatine.
The Brewed Book, 1524 Harrison St., Davenport.
The Black Rose, 116 W. Main St., West Branch
Beaverdale Books, 2629 Beaver Ave. # S1, Des Moines.
Pella Books, 824 Franklin St, Pella.
The Atlas Collective, 1801 5th Ave, Moline, Illinois.
I’m always looking for some new places to place my books, so feel free to hit me up in the comments if you have a suggestion.
For those who are budget conscious among all of you, my books are part of the collections of the Fort Madison, Burlington, and eventually at the Musser (Muscatine) public libraries.
My poetry book The Flow and the Journey is available at Bent Oak, Green Point, Burlington By the Book, and The Corner and More, but it is also available online but not on Amazon. See below.
Not much else to say. All you writers keep writing and everyone keep safe.
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While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
This will be short because I want to get writing on my projects and not how unproductive I’ve been.
Even though my numbers were still rubbish last week, they were my best numbers for at least five weeks. And I can at least partially blame having to get a new laptop set up for part of this slowness.
Here’s the stats:
Writing statistics for the week ending7 March 2026: Words: 3,870 Days writing: 6 of 7. Days revising or planning: 0 of 7 for 0 minutes. Daily Writing Goals Met (500+ words or 30 minutes of planning/revisions): 6 of 7 days.
Not that I’m happy with those stats, but I’d have been happier to have five straight weeks of those numbers rather than the lower ones I actually had.
I’ve tried to get going on a sci-fi environmental horror project with the working title of The Land, The River, and The Waste, (I am so superstitious about revealing a real title until I am closer to publishing), set in a little Mississippi River town in Iowa. I need to cut out more dialogue and get to people howling at each other.
Have a good week everyone, and all you writers keep writing.
If you don’t have the budget for a paid subscription, feel free to just send me a one-time payment of whatever you have the budget for.
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
In recent months, some of these entries have gotten slightly more difficult to write. I’m slightly self-conscious about the fiction projects I’m active on, so I’m not quite sure when to share excerpts from them. That might change in the near future, but not just yet.
This week, I had a conversation with one of my students, one who, at times, would prefer to distract themselves1 rather than get going on their work. At a certain point at the end of the day, I said to them, “You think you know about procrastination? I could teach you doctorates in procrastination.”
I talked about their position, how they needed to keep on top of their work because time can slip away from them. Of course, when you’re in your mid to late teens, your perspective on wasting time changes from when you’ve passed a half century of life.
I distinctly remember a moment when I was fourteen years old when I was visiting my relatives at my Grandpa and Grandma Sumner’s place on the north side of La Crosse, Wisconsin. I remember it being evening and I was hanging out with several of my cousins outside staring at the nighttime stars and declaring to one of them (I believe it was my cousin Kathy, hi there.) that I would write four books by the time I turned eighteen.
I did not quite reach that lofty goal by my eighteenth birthday. Now past my fiftieth birthday, I have three completed novels and one poetry collection to my name.
Obviously, procrastination had some effect on my production. I mean, I’m not like Harper Lee, but I’m sure as heck not as prolific as several of my literary idols such as Stephen King or Elmore Leonard. Then again, in the latter two cases, they have or had the advantage of securing enough publishing support to be able to live off their writing earnings full-time, which is a very late 20th century phenomenon, as I’ve recently started to sense.
I am someone who tries to avoid falling into stereotyping and bias, but I cannot help but think my generation, Generation X, born in or around the 1970’s, came of age in a transitional era in our country when it came to both culture and technology. We came of age at a time, the 1980’s and 1990’s, where America was arguably at our peak. We stood triumphant over the world, and all of the ugliness that it took for us to get there was buried in classic Westerns or revisionist cinema such as the Rambo series, which promised its audience there was a way to win the Vietnam War even though the entire premise was ridiculous.
We also certainly came of age at a time when we were at the junction between the late industrial age and the information age. We had video games, CD’s, and computer graphics when previous generations had none of the above. We were among the very last college students not to regularly use email and worry about the cost of long distance calls. Often, rather than depending on our parents getting us desktop computers, we relied on the computer labs in the basements of our college dorms. We generally had no cell phones and no real encounters with the Internet except for the odd places to find in the exotic nooks and crannies there.
Despite this, I certainly had my own distractions. There were video games from the Atari 2600 up to Sid Meier’s Civilization for my desktop computer. There was even the Playstations and XBoxes my wife and I bought for our children that I ended up piloting more than a few times. Then there were the movies, the shows, the World Wide Web.
There were years when I didn’t write a single thing, where the tall tales and ideas simply burbled up and down in my perpetual stew of ideas in my head which gathered stories in my head for as long as I could remember. In all seriousness, I didn’t have the perseverance in my younger days to put something together like those stories, to put them on the page. I started and then stopped, like the more than a dozen or so hand-written pages of a long-forgotten story my father found in my parents’ home and returned to me.
In those years I was a younger man, I called myself a writer but did little to forward that vision. This does not mean I didn’t utilize my writing talents, however. I first turned to journalism to make a living with the skills I had, using it to inform my community about what they needed to know. Over time, when the work was fewer and farther between, I entered the education profession and utilized my writing (and other) skills that way. In both professions, I felt I had value, that I had purpose. Away from all of that, I helped build a family, a home. It was a good life. (It still is now, too.)
Then, fifteen years ago, I began to wonder if I couldn’t do something more, whether I could become something more than what I had tried to be before.
It didn’t start immediately. As I have told several of my students, if you don’t consistently dedicate yourself to your goals, there’s no way you will be able to switch on. It took me a while to decide what I wanted to write about, and then to see who might be interested in helping me bring it to life. I also wanted to share what I came up with, so I started to meet with and network with these people. Some good friendships and good advice came from that networking and writing groups.
Finally, in 2019, my first book, The Holy Fool came out. I had no idea what I was doing, and I don’t claim to know everything about what I’m doing now. I know a little bit more, now.
I would love to tell you I never let myself distracted anymore, that I’m just a writing machine. That wouldn’t be totally accurate. I’ve written at least 200,000 words a year for the past four years. I’ve only kept track of my word counts with a good amount of accuracy ever since 2018, but I’m guessing when I got started back into writing earlier in the decade, I was only writing around 50,000-120,000 words per year – pretty pitiful compared to my current output. Setting word count and project goals at the beginning of the year has helped me to achieve something more than I ever expected out of myself.
I think my current attitude about how much time I have left is symbolized by me checking out Bowker Publishing Services. They’re the people where you can buy ISBN numbers from, the numbers used to identify books.
I’m beginning to wonder if 10 or 20 ISBN numbers are going to be enough for everything else I’m planning to write. Probably not more than 20. Well, I’ll make them good ones, then.
-30-
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
All I can say about last week is that it wasn’t as bad as my worst week of the month. And this past month was bad. I mean, bad, nowhere near what I’m expecting of myself.
Here they are:
Writing statistics for the week ending28 February 2026: Words: 2,973 Days writing: 5 of 7. Days revising or planning: 1 of 7 for 120 minutes. Daily Writing Goals Met (500+ words or 30 minutes of planning/revisions): 5 of 7 days.
Writing statistics for February 2026: Words: 12,089 Revise/planning: 270 minutes. DWGM: 64%
Whelp, nearly 10,000 words less than last month. And I missed my daily goals more than one out of every three days. In short: total absolute rubbish. I have been fighting against my old friend of procrastination, that hangs out and temps me into distraction.
I’m also in a situation where I realize I’m in something of a … I won’t say rut, but I’m feeling like I’m doing a lot of background setting and not enough tension and dread for what should be a sci-fi environmental horror project. This I’ve given the working title of The Land, The River, and The Waste, (I am so superstitious about revealing a real title until I am closer to publishing), set in a little Mississippi River town in Iowa. I’m getting the feeling of more sightseeing and not enough horror. I always loved how Stephen King would slowly turn up the temperature of his stories ever so slowly until you found yourself as a reader in the maelstrom of chaos he’d create.
So: more chaos, less sightseeing. Plus, I have Spring Break this month so I should have a bit more time to write this month, I believe. Back to the 20,000-word mark, hopefully.
Have a good week everyone, and all you writers keep writing.
If you don’t have the budget for a paid subscription, feel free to just send me a one-time payment of whatever you have the budget for.
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
I’ve had some rough weeks that have been under-productive, to say the least. It’s just been me stubbornly staring at the screen and expecting the words just to fly onto the screen.
The numbers:
Writing statistics for the week ending21 February 2026: Words: 3,128 Days writing: 6 of 7. Days revising or planning: 0 of 7 for 0 minutes. Daily Writing Goals Met (500+ words or 30 minutes of planning/revisions): 4 of 7 days.
Too many distractions is all I can say. I need to break the streak I’ve been running nearly this entire month. Somehow I get the feeling the month of February is a slump month for me, and I have to keep this in mind for next year and beyond.
The project I call (for now; I’m so superstitious of working titles) The Land, The River, and The Waste, an environmental horror tale set in a little Mississippi River town in Iowa, is my main fiction focus. I need to stop screwing around and get the action going in this story; there seems to be a few too much talk talk and not enough go go to it. If I want to have a rough draft by Halloween 2026… you know.
Have a good week everyone, and all you writers keep writing.
If you don’t have the budget for a paid subscription, feel free to just send me a one-time payment of whatever you have the budget for.
While I do appreciate you following this blog, I really would like you to subscribe to my Substack page. By subscribing to that page, you’ll not only be receiving my Substack newsletter, The Writing Life With Jason Liegois (the companion blog to this one), but you’ll also be signing up for my email list. Just click the button below.
