K.M. Carlson

@wanderingbutton.bsky.social

288 Followers 355 Following

#RevPit '26 shortlist QUERYING NOW! I like my neuros like I like my chili: SPICY. "I am not yet so low but that my nails can reach unto thine eyes." -Hermia from A Midsummer Night's Dream

The first lie was calling it Faith.
Super incredible hand-drawn depiction of red-haired woman (absolutely gorgeous) with a smoke monster in front of her. Don't listen to what I just wrote, the drawing is god-awful.
An Agent's Guide to Ashmarked A novel by K.M. Carlson The first lie was calling it faith. Hand outstretched with smoke curling around it.
An Agent's Guide to Ashmarked A novel by K.M. Carlson Netflix's Midnight Mass meets Shadow and Bone for corrupt faith breeding sanctioned violence and bound to dangerous power others seek. The details: 107k words, Adult, Dark Fantasy, Standalone with series potential
An Agent's Guide to Ashmarked Netflix's Midnight Mass meets Shadow and Bone for corrupt faith breeding sanctioned violence and bound to dangerous power others seek.
A text box with a red haired woman on it. The text reads: THE BANTER. Eloweth changed the subject. "Sir, you are truly a poet. I shudder to imagine your love letters." "My great aunt was a poet," Yelen said, staring ahead with a bemused expression. "Erotic in nature. The filthiest of things. Positions I hadn't even thought of. Sometimes five, six people involved... They banned her from entering the. next village over. " Yellen brought her spoon to her mouth, continuing her breakfast as if she'd never said a word. Slack-jawed, Falc inched closer to Yellen. "I'd fancy a lyric if yeh would..."
Funny map depicting the weird cycles of editing and writing a novel. Peaks and valleys from “this is great” to “oh my did, what did I do.”
Shin ramen with K-pop demon hunters.
Mood board featuring impoverished 19th century Iron Rangers, a posh victorian woman, a mine shaft, chemistry equipment, and bright colorful rocks and natural elements.
Old dog who smells bad and is put together with spare parts, but we love him anyway. He is white and laying beneath a blanket.
The poem by Pablo Neruda reads: I do not love you as if you were salt-rose or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself, and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose from the earth lives dimly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love, except in this form in which I am not nor are you, so close that your hand upon my chest is mine, so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
Text over shadows that reads "you were the light in my lifetime of darkness."
Dark hand clasping black smoke.
A dramatic book-style mood board showing two hands reaching toward each other against a smoky background, surrounded by ornate golden religious stoles with fire and blood visuals. Below, scenes of firelit crowds holding torches and two marionettes facing each other in a dim room add to the intense, mystical mood. In the middle is the text ASHMARKED and the quote "The Faith was right about one thing at least. Fires take us all. And I am the fire."