Author: Alexandru Constantin

It’s been awhile old friends.

It’s two in the afternoon on Columbus day. My wife is napping with the kid and I’ve grown bored of trolling all the typical Columbus Day lib-posts, and Morrissey keeps popping up on my Spotifiy mix. In a few hours when everyone wakes up we will head out to our friends for dinner. Life is good.

Life has been busy. Between my life draining job and my responsibilities to my wife and kid I have very little time to myself. That small window of time is mostly taken by reading, writing fiction, and spending time with my wife watching movies or just hanging out. This place has been suffering. Mostly because it was always intended as a author site but right now I don’t really have a lot to put out.

I’ve written some short stories and have some more in the process but none of them really match the indy market. I don’t know where to submit them. I’m coming to the realization that my work doesn’t really jive with what editors like. Especially because I’m using the short story format to experiment with voice and style. I expect that in the future I will put out a collection of stories. I’m just not sure that they make a coherent product at this point.

More importantly I’ve started the groundwork on a novel. The last few months have been dedicated to research. I’m currently in the outline phase and plan on starting the first draft around the Thanksgiving holiday. The goal is to finish and publish before I head out on another South Pacific adventure next spring.

But, I digress. The point of this post was to discuss my plan for this blog. I’ve feel that a lot of fantasy review blogs suck. I can’t stand reading most of them. So instead of whining I’m going to start writing more in-depth reviews of books I think need general attention. I’m going to focus on indy books, specifically in the pulp-rev adjacent scene.

The reviews I plan on writing will be comprehensive. I’ll take recommendations but I’m rather picky when it comes to what I want to read so I might never get around to doing one on a book you wrote or would like reviewed.

I created a badge system. My reviews will only have three ratings. Blank, Honorable, and Golden. I will go in depth about what each entails but expect the majority of books to get blanks.

Cultural Malaise & Action

Recently during our regular grilling and drinking sessions with friends, the topic of conversation has been turning towards politics and even some religion. I’m a firm believer in the Chestertonian “I never discuss anything else except politics and religion. There is nothing else to discuss,” maxim, so I’m usually right in the middle of it.


Sadly the consensus amongst my friends and family is that everything is going south. That we as a culture are in decline, that our institutions are failing, and that the future looks dark. Violent political division, racial animosity, moral decline, mass shootings, and an overall pallor of degeneracy and unhappiness.


Last weekend, after a particularly long and dark discussion best described some other time, my wife rather demoralized asked the question that matters. What do we do about things, how do we live through times that are dark and demoralizing, what actions should we take?


Her question has been bothering me all week. I don’t have an answer. At least nothing that is concrete. I think that looking around, assessing the state of our lives, and the state of our society is the first step. So many of us live empty fast-food lives stuck in a never-ending cycle of work, consume, repeat; addicted to mind-numbing entertainment and shallow pleasures. So even seeing a problem with how we live and react is a first step in the right direction. And honestly, it’s easy sinking into despair and complacency. Becoming overwhelmed with Acedia, the defining characteristic of our modern world. Inactivity, inaction, lack of attention, dissatisfaction and slavery to anxiety. After all, we live in a sick world where we are connected digitally with thousands but can’t name the person who lives next door.


While I don’t have the answer, I do have some ideas on how we can try to combat the ills of today. I think that there needs to be a refocusing on the personal, a return to small scale intimacy and sub-creation. Not everything must be connected, displayed, and shared with the whole world. Do things for yourself and the ones you love. Create artistically, build, collect, adventure, but do it for yourself, not for Instagram.


I believe a small step towards alleviating the spiritual malaise is to revitalize the idea of crafty small scale creative hobbies. Everyone should have at least two personal hobbies. One that is physical such as weightlifting, running, surfing, hiking, or a sport, and more critically a creative hobby. I think way too many of us lack creative and intellectual outlets. Drawing, painting, cooking, baking, woodworking, gardening, photography, or any other creative outlet is critical.


As a writer I know that nothing beats the revitalizing mental high I get when I finish a story or even a section of one. But I’ve challenged myself to other hobbies such as my recent experiments with cooking and grilling, and my slow return to art. Eventually, I plan on getting into gardening, but I’m a little intimidated by the starting process.


As I said, I don’t have any concrete answers. But I do think that any change starts at home with the self, the small, and the personal. Disconnect from the mind-rot of television and get to work on a creative hobby. Learn it, master it, and share it with your friends.


It won’t change the world but it might make a small part of it a little bit better.

Two Months

My last full post was two months ago. Don’t worry, I’m still here. I’m not giving up on this space. Matter of fact I just renewed my domain name.

I’ve been terribly busy. Between being a father, husband, and a full time job, my time is overbooked. Especially these last few months due to my work sending me out of town for training. Last week I spent living out of the back of a military ambulance.

What free time I have that isn’t devoted to my family is spent writing. I’ve been consistently hitting my wordcount goals and have a lot of big projects planned. I’m giving myself a 10-year transition to full time author timeline. In order to make that goal every spare moment needs to be devoted to writing, research, craft, and marketing.

I’m not sure what I want to do with this blog space. Do I want to continue keeping it a semi-personal space used like a journal? I don’t really like reviews but I could turn it into a page devoted to indy writers I follow. Use it as a newsletter? Lots of options. For now I’m going to do what I have been doing, but that might change in the future.

In the coming months I’m going to start revealing my upcoming projects.

If you are interested in my day to day commentary please follow me on twitter by clicking on the widget below or following this link https://twitter.com/dacianwanderer

Pen & Paper, Letter & Journal

Last week my family celebrated my daughters first birthday. It was a wonderful endcap to a challenging, fulfilling, and wonderful first year of fatherhood. Transitional moments and milestones tend to put me in pensive moods so I’ve been reflecting on the subject of permanence and longevity. Will I be remembered after I’m gone? How will I be remembered? How will my daughter see me, my work, my life?

I’m a dedicated reader of biographies. As a writer I think good biographies are monumentally useful because going deeply into a subject is a critical boon towards creating believable characters with depth and realism. Biographers use numerous sources to bring their subjects to life and give the reader a hopefully realistic portrait,the most useful sources are the subjects own words in the form of journals and letters.

Leonardo Da Vinci was a constant journal writer. He carried a notebook with him at all times and constantly jotted down notes and observation. His notebooks are a unique view into his mind. Napoleon Bonaparte was a prolific letter writer. The Bonaparte foundation has over 40,000 letters documenting his life in often minute detail. In the fantasy writers world most of what we know about H.P. Lovecraft, Clarke Ashton Smith, and Robert Howard comes from the large volume of correspondence between the writers. Letters and journals are invaluable windows into the lives of the past.

I’ve kept a journal for the past two years. Last week I was rewarded by thumbing through last years worth of writing and coming across the entry I made on the day my daughter was born. I had forgotten about it, honestly I must of sat down and jotted it during the hectic hours of my wifes early labor. Reading it a year later brought back vivid memories of that wonderful day. I hope that I can hold on to my journal so I can share the thoughts I had on that day with my daughter when she grows up.

All of this brings me back to the pensive meditation on permanence I mentioned above. How will I be remembered. With journaling a dying art and lettering six feet under, all that is left of us is the profanity laced, meme poisoned, digital trail of social media. With this in mind I searched out my old LiveJournal and MySpace accounts. I have a good memory so I managed to unlock both accounts. After a few minutes of reading the horror that poured out of my young adult mind I deleted both accounts. Next I went through early Facebook from 2006 when I first created that account. Once again, horror. Nothing that would get my acceptance to Harvard rescinded, but definitely filled with embarrassing stupidity. Looking at my posts from 2007-2010 one would be justified in having concerns about the health of my liver.

A decade ago we used social media differently. It wasn’t so serious, so scrutinized, so manufactured. It was off the cuff jokes, jibes at friends, stupid pictures, and invitations to go drinking. We set up obnoxious auto playing songs on our MySpace profiles, assaulting visitors with noise and crappy HTML templates. It was new, fun, and nobody really thought about how long the crap we posted would be floating around in digital space.

Now I have a crippling fear that when I die everything about me will come from my old social media profiles. My descendants will remember me from idiotic posts about Pabst Blue Ribbon tall-cans and rants on how much I hated Tarantino’s latest movie. Some social historian will dig up the stupidest crap and I will be immortalized by the digital equivalent of the vulgar graffiti found in Pompeii.

But isn’t that the real me? Isn’t that what social media was supposed to be. An open community bringing us together, being ourselves in the digital space. Maybe. But, personally I rather stick to pen and paper, letter and journal.