Robin Schadel

I wrote a blog post on changes to my writing schedule that defy the advice of the internet (gasp!) and updating you on the progress of The Devourer's Sonata and a short story collection, Saint of the Shattered Veil.

www.cursingravenbooks.com/blog/e97ws6hmbjiqzmos2fxvo0l381mtxy

Still sick. Have two void kitties!

When your Thursday and Friday classes have out-of-class exams, you plan to get a lot done. And then you end up with 102 fever, a toothache, and severe sinusitis.

Just cuddling my floofy baby

I've been getting daily emails from a "book promoter" who refuses to accept that I am not some dude named Adam who wrote a children's book about the tooth fairy.
I am not now nor have I ever been a dude named Adam. Nor have I ever written a book centered around a faerie, let alone a children's book.

Today was a stressful day, but I accomplished and exceeded my writing goal. So, a sweet treat: some Turkish delights and red wine.

Finally figured out what to do with that dark fantasy short story (and by short story I mean, 11k word novelette) collection I started last year. Now I just need to finish this one final story (which was the first one I sketched a plot for) to have 10 for the collection, and then off to the editor.

As the first month of 2026 comes to a close, I thought a blog post to provide a few details on the plans for upcoming releases this year was in order:

www.cursingravenbooks.com/blog/the-plan-for-2026

And my birthday ends with Pickle in red

Forty-Seven trips around the sun completed.

Art by Lar DeSouza…

And we are sick. I hope it’s just allergies, but something has been going around campus.

So he's admitting the ICE agent shot first?

Oh, who am I kidding? He's trying to imply that the ICE thug is the "good guy," the rake, rogue, and ne'er-do-well.

No, the ICE agent is a thug, a murderer, a traitor to humanity like the rest of this administration.

I don’t need another email to check, but all the cold call “let me help you market your books” emails (which are likely scams) are getting annoying to the point I’m considering a business-only address.

Writing is a struggle because the events of the nation sap my mental and emotional energy.

I write about people, often ordinary people, standing up to oppression and corruption. I pour my story, my heart, my learning, and my soul into my fiction.

The horrors persist. So I write.

Prosecute ICE.

As the winter continues looming, perhaps a spooky Louisiana gothic novel where romance and tragedy dance in the moonlight?
bookshop.org/p/books/the-...

The winter storm is here. Rain is coming down hard, but the temperature is holding steady. For now.

Time to get some writing done.

Writing progress today is slowed due to what I hope is only allergies leaving me completely drained after a day of teaching.

Anakin vs Sand jokes will never cease to be funny.

I have not. I know the books exist and they're on my TBR, but I never got around to reading any.

When you don’t have to go to work today, you get a happy lap cat.

This show was a huge inspiration for my writing. My dad and I used to watch it.

What is writing? It is googling sentences like: "what is it called the thing you store a cake in" because you forgot what a cake carrier/keeper was called.

The plan was to slow down. The plan was to pace myself to avoid burnout.

I write to understand my mind and to quell the demons who haunt the ruins contained therein. They persist and swell in both number and ferocity; therefore, the vigilance of my pen is ever on duty.

I try.

Accepted.

The calm smile is the realization that one week of this semester is in the books.

It really is.