Ansirk - The World of Diar - Part 2

Ansirk, the capital of the Brethen kingdom, sprawls for several miles. Located west of Keeper's Dale, this is the hub of human sophistication and debauchery alike. The balance of order and corruption are held in check by the numerous factions inside the city. The Mynler District for instance, known for its exotic jewels and banking, wields influence through financial prowess. While in contrast, the Shadowling faction, an all female guild of deadly assassins and thieves, beguiles for power in the political arena. In these respects and others, each district is onto itself a different community. The dynamic ebb and flow of unrest between the diverse cultures keeps any one faction from gaining ultimate power over the others.


The city welcomes visitors from all walks of life and allows them to openly trade goods and services in the districts of their choosing. Farmers from Eshendown Gardens for example, barter vegetables for coin or magical rain generation trinkets crafted by the water mages of the Wisentrop District. Then after a long day of selling their wares the farmers can treat themselves to brews at the Drunken Eagle; just a short walk down Main Street in the Market District.

The Drunken Eagle is a gaudy inn with a quirky ambiance. Themed and adorned with the Brethen Kingdom's colors of blue and gold, the inn is also lavished with eagle depicted murals and tapestries lined throughout. The inn boasts several floors to paying customers in need of a comfortable bed; each room designated by the name of history's most beloved kings. The establishment is most noted for their honey spiced mead and scantily clad and accessible barmaids.


There are plenty of other stores and activities within the Market District to keep oneself occupied, but those with ample coin will pass through the ornate mason columns located at the back of the district. Here they will find themselves in the upscale part of the city called the Mynler District. Run by Jawg Mynler and his family, this luxurious section of the capitol opens its doors to those of elite status and purses teeming with gold.

Jawg Mynler's fortune is fed from the jewel laden mines far to the east of Ansirk and deep in the Jade Mountains. The Mynler family has wealth beyond comparison, spending most of their days planning and catering galas for even the most obscure holidays. It is rumored that if Jawg had any desire for such lofty ideals of political power, he could have bought the throne several times over. Yet his infatuation with monetary expansion and social events keeps him adequately occupied.


From the dilapidated wood buildings of the Shadowling District to the cobbled streets of the Mynler District, the city of Ansirk is surrounded by a formidable defensive wall. This massive stone structure houses thousands of soldiers within its gatehouses and battlements. The feeling behind the walls, with their impressive armaments, is considered by most to be that of comfort and security; and rightly so. The walls have stood strong for a thousand years and withstood countless wars. The latest completion of massive siege equipment mounted on the high ramparts only adds to their effectiveness of keeping the denizens safe.


Modern architecture and contemporary styling make the city of Ansirk a breathtaking site. When King Connald Blake took the throne in the Brethen Keep, he had but one single peeve; the city was to drab and unkempt. By his decree the streets were made swept regularly, gardens were planted throughout the city, and his family crest was added to large banners that now fly high on the walls. Furthermore, new monuments were erected to showcase the city's grand history of survival through the bleakest of times. It is a time of peace for the Brethen people and the King has no qualms with that. He embraces the heartiness of his people knowing them fully capable of conquest, but he cherishes their capacity for productivity as well and chooses to let his lands flourish without bloodshed.

Whew.. Blogger Days of Summer

Hope everyone is enjoying their summer, I wanted to drop in and give an update of this blog site.  After a little bit of research I realized that the 'pages' concept is not going to work as I originally intended it to.  For whatever reason Blogger only allows ten pages for us to use.  This of course does not bode well for my segmented story lines; 4 parts Fardea, 4 parts Scouting, 2 parts Diar, etc.

I've done a couple things to offset this and help folks find things in the future.  First I've implemented 'labels,' a feature that creates an index for my blog postings.  Also, I'll be consolidating the stories I've already listed.  You can already see the Scouting story line in its entirety in one single page.

At any rate, I hope all of that makes sense.  If so, great! Have a great weekend.  If not then have comfort knowing that I'm doing what I can with my limited knowledge of Blogger to keep the site functional.  Suggestions are of course encouraged.



   

Protect The Risen: Scouting the Enemy - Part 4

Had a bit of time tonight so I whipped up an additional installment of the scouting story. It introduces another of my favorite characters...

Scouting the Enemy

Nevel forego the pleasantries of a formal campsite as he lay hidden in the canopy overlooking the Haverdack army.  His horse safely tethered a mile back waiting his return.  He would have rode in closer but this leg of the scouting mission required a stealthier approach.

The ranger had evaluated the small woodcutting men assessing their potential as adversaries.  He concluded that their heightened agility and incredible speed could prove formidable.  If the tiny men were formally trained in warfare the Brethens would have their hands full.  Even without training, there were so many; Nevel did not want to think of the carnage that lay in the future.

All things being equal though, the creatures stood little chance of breaching the sturdy stone walls of the Brethen Keep.  Throughout history, several armies had tried to overtake the Brethen lands.  With every attempt, the men of the Brethen Keep stood stoic, building their walls taller and wider.  Each success taught them more robust models on how to defend themselves with greater efficiency.

In recent years, a genius architect had helped them design war machines for their battlements.  They were intricate mechanisms of counter weights and slings set upon the highest points of the Brethen Keep and capable of hurling salvos of rock down upon an advancing army.  Designs Nevel had thought were novel, but now looking down on the army below he realized could change the tide of the Brethens' future.  The ranger had been present the day the inventor, Red Eye, had presented his prototype to the king.

"The Brethen Keep has relied too heavily on the mages of the Wisentrop district.  They are formidable men, no question of that my liege, but men non the less.  We cannot assume to have their magic at our beck and call, loyalties as it is said can always change.  Should the time come, it would be nice to have an unwavering alternative to those who reside in the mage towers of Ansirk."  

The wily inventor pulled in a deep breath and then continued his presentation. "It is time to roll out a new era of defense.  We can always be resort back to the Order of Magi should my creations fail, my lord.  I plead however you trust in my abilities, these mongonels will not falter." 

Red Eye pointed to his odd contraptions spread across a dozen wagons.  "I know it does not look like much now but consider the schematics I showed you last year.  When we lock the forward load bearing legs in place on the keep walls and stretch the..."

The king's hand came up in a stopping motion, "Red you need not go into the details of it with me again.  I did not understand you the first time you told me of this design.  I had not realized how large it would be.  Can the walls handle it?"

The odd man shook his head yes, then slightly in a no fashion.  "My lord, a small retrofit of slate will need to be added to each of the mongonel locations on the ramparts.  My calculations suggest that the given sectional weight distribution, based upon the span and height of our current wall is inadequate.  I did however cross reference the known specifications of our current wall's construction versus that of Eshendown stone..." 

"Enough Red," The king waved his hand once more and then stood idle.  His majesty's face suggested a look of being lost in an internal dialogue.  His eyes shifted from side to side, and he nodded an ascent to a question none in the audience heard.  Most were accustomed to this anecdotal feature of their king and paid it no attention.   

King Blake turned to his constituents.  "Do any lords hold reservations of Constable Red Eye's proposed wall installation?"

Lord Wallace Manti spoke up, "My lord I concur with the constable.  The rock from my quarries is an excellent choice of material.  I would be honored to supply it for our beloved Brethen Keep."

"Lord Foxe?" the king asked, turning to his oldest friend.

As always, accompanying the sage man on either side was Sir Macimar and Nevel.  Marith Foxe shook his head.  "We have needed war machines of this caliber for a long time, my lord.  If Red says he has come up with a working prototype then we should test it.  I would be curious if he can achieve the projectile range he has boasted."

Nevel continued to watch the expansive army crawl through the valley.  To his dismay as coincidence would have it, rolling into view were similar implements of war to that of Red Eye's creations.  The Haverdack army had use of siege equipment.  This did not bode well for the keep, it would soon be time to test those new creations under most dire of times.

--

Also as requested, I added a bit to the previous Fardea story.  No not the romance part, but the tray part.  I think it adds a bit more fun to the segment.

Fardea - Part 4 - Turning the Tides

Fardea updates

Part four is now available of Fardea's escapade.  I've also gone back and added a small bit into part two if you want to check that out.  It wasn't that I needed to, but I thought it added something to her storyline which may be useful to know later in her development (hint, hint.) 

Fardea-Part-2- Darcellis Fate

Fardea-Part-4-Turning the Tides

Protect The Risen: Scouting the Enemy - Part 3

Here is an overdue part 3 of the scouting story. Been out of town on business, making it difficult to find the time to get this out. Hope you all enjoy...

Scouting the Enemy

Lord Marith Foxe and Sir Macimar approached the army with care, although not cautious enough it would seem.  A band of small men, their arms thrusting long spears had rushed up on them.  Marith cursed himself, "Of course they have scouts, why have I let us ride into such a trap?"

The small formed men shouted out in their foreign tongues, neither of the riders recognized it, however both understood its intent.  They were to become prisoners of this grand army, a force measuring twenty thousand by Lord Foxe's estimation.  Worse yet, the foreign invaders might just kill them.  Macimar slid one of his blades from its ornate scabbard and kicked in his spurred heels.

"Maybe you wished to test their strength my lord."

Marith scoffed at the idea that he had intentionally let this event happen on purpose.  The logic of his loyal knight had merit.  What better way to understand an opposing army than to face them in such small and contained numbers.

Marith was not as cavalier as his protégé and took a moment to secure his helm and lower his visor.  He then put Corceneble into a lope and unseated the long battle axe from its resting spot on his horse’s side.  He raised the light weight and perfectly balanced weapon high above his head.  "For my Brethens!" he chanted. 

"Your Brethen!" Sir Macimar replied, his long tresses whipped in the wind as he rode hard into the tiny men's position.  His sword swooped in low and nearly clipped the head of the nearest.  The knight's aim was precise and yet he missed the mark somehow; the scrawny adversary skirting the attack with uncanny ease.

Unwavering Macimar continued his assault, his powerful horse parting the ambushers and opening up a second target.  Down came his sword once more, a sweeping arc meant to cleave and yet this attempt was thwarted as well, as the cat-like reflexes of his opponent evaded.

"What are they," he exclaimed to his companion.  There was no immediate answer as his mentor had not yet joined him in the fight.  Unsurprising, his mentor lingered at the edge of the battle assessing the situation.  Macimar hoped in this particular situation that the patience of his lord paid out and that he would figure out a method to kill these quick little men.

Lord Marith Foxe watched Macimar fail in his initial approach, and in fact knew the name of these creatures now that he had seen them closer up.  They were called Leesermen, originating from a realm far to the east; an unsophisticated bunch of natives.  It was odd seeing them group up in such large numbers and to also be warmongering.  The Leesermen had always been known for their small, tribal like, religious sects.  This really made no sense to Lord Foxe.

Macimar reigned in his horse on the far side of the fray and wheeled it about.  He was no slouch when it came to speed and if any human could stand toe to toe to these lythe creatures it would be him.  Of all of Marith's students, Macimar had surpassed all with his ability to wield the small blades.

The long haired knight dropped out of his saddle and drew out a second sword, an identical forge of the previous with an eagle emblemed hilt.  He twirled each in synchronous circles, a signature movement of this fierce warrior.  By now Lord Foxe had his long shafted axe swinging as well, but he too could not seem to strike a successful hit.  The Leesermen were just too quick.  He tried a midlevel jab, evade, an overhead chop, evade, a twirling crisscross shoulder to gut slice, evade.

Deep into his struggle of finding a method to strike his opponent, Marith lost track of several Leesermen that had slid around to his backside.  Their spear tips nudging his polished armor and reminding him of his surroundings once again.  It became the pivotal moment for the fight, as Marith Foxe realized what he needed to do to.

He shouted across to Macimar, "I have an idea."

"I figured and hoped you might, my lord."

"You and I must fight as one."

Marith Foxe allowed the spears to continue to strike him, the strength of the little men too weak to puncture the strong Brethen craftsmanship of the sturdy platemail.  Sir Macimar caught on quick that those focused on the easy target of his lord had left themselves vulnerable to attack.  A flurry of steel quickly fell two of the Leesermen engaged in prodding Lord Foxe. 

The two warriors took turns playing the role of distracter and aggressor.  The Leesermen wore no armor and stood no chance at winning by the hands of these two heavily plated and seasoned soldiers.  Their nimbleness, initially a strong defense did not make much of a difference in the end.  Several minutes later, all of them were piled together dead.  Some died from the short swords held in opposing hands by Macimar and the others cleaved in half by the mighty axe of Lord Foxe.

Protect The Risen: Scouting the Enemy - Part 2

Hope all are enjoying their week, here is part 2 of the scouts.

Scouting the Enemy

The ranger hunched down in his thin saddle and allowed himself to move in rhythm with his horse. Soon the tall grass lapped at Nevel's feet as he outpaced his companions.  A final wave towards his friends and he diverted his course off into the thicker brush on the hillside.

The Haverdack army had settled itself in the flat valley of two spruce and deciduous covered hills.  To maintain cover Nevel would need to stick to the rocky untamed hillsides.  His horse was use to its rider and knew what was demanded of it, its muscles honed to handle the rougher terrain than those of its counterparts.  The duo made incredible time given the obstacles in their path.

From time to time Nevel could glimpse out through small breaks in the foliage and see the massive military force gathered below.  It was an incredible sight; he had never seen such a display of power.  He shook his head in disbelief, "My lord, help us find the strength to defend ourselves."

He continued to move swiftly through the trees and scrub brush, his horse doing most of the decision making on the best course to take.  Ahead he heard the distinctive sound of wood chopping.  Not a single sound but a clamorous beating of hundreds of ax-heads colliding against the trees.  It was a fortunate supply of noise that further dampened his stealthy approach.  He slowed, hopped off his horse and placed the reigns over a low hung branch.

Nevel darted off now in his true comfort zone: alone.  He had been a woodsmen tracker since childhood, a decision not entirely his own.  His father had also been a tracker using his skills to provide food and income.  Before Nevel learned to walk his father had placed him in a sling and carried him out into the woods for the daily hunt.  Nevel had never known a life outside that of the woods; it was therefore where the boy, and now a man felt most at ease.

As the years past, Nevel soon surpassed his father's abilities.  He could look at a single track and tell what breed and size an animal it was.  More fascinating was the fact that the young boy could tell what time of day it passed the area, and even what reason.  It was the angle of the print's impression along with its depth that helped him in this endeavor.  In later years his skills were honed to include the more devious creatures of the woods; those that had mental faculties to hide their tracks from the average woodsman.  Nevel had ascended to the ranks of a ranger by this time where neither man nor creature was able to elude him.

Ahead he could hear the mumbles of voices that made no effort to hide their idle chatter.  The wood cutters were enthralled by their work and unaware of any persons who would challenge their large numbers.  Nevel was such a man however, and tip toed closer trying to discern the nature of the men ahead.

"Nimba gucho esfe welti," came the voice of the nearest to Nevel.

"Awna gucho, Nimba ni qetswa.  Dute betres a Ostin," was the reply.

What Nevel had first assumed to be mumbled speech turned out to be a foreign tongue.  All he seemed to make out was the proper names of someone named Nimba and posibly Ostin.  Neither name was familiar to him nor did it offer any information on the men's origins.  Chancing a quick look, the veteran woodsman peered around the trunk of a large spruce.  His eyes blinked as he tried to understand the lanky forms he saw.

Scouting the Enemy

The next little story line I will put out there references characters that will get introduced in book two of the series.

Scouting the Enemy

Marith pulled the cinch tight, allowed Corceneble to exhale and then yanked on the leather strap one last time before tying it to his saddle.  His majestic roan bobbed her head low knowing the next step of this daily ritual.  Every morning Lord Marith Foxe prepared his horse for the day's journey; the addition of the steed's reigns was now the final step.

"What a glorious morn my lord," the energetic soul named Nevel mentioned.

"Aye, a fine day indeed Nevel," his lord responded.

A third voice chimed in, "Not a fine day my lord, but a grand day.  For this is the last day of the journey.  I for one cannot wait to be back among my family.  I miss my girls so much."

"Alas you forget the couple weeks for the trek home Sir Macimar," Lord Foxe reminded his friend and loyal knight.

"If I had a wife like yours Macimar I could not wait either," Nevel added.

Macimar leered at Nevel, but directed his response to Lord Foxe.  "Well yes there is that, but I will be glad to finally have a look at this army Lord Haverdack has supposedly assembled out here."

"Nothing our fellow Brethens cannot defeat, Haverdack has tried to attack us before.  I venture to guess this whole matter has been overrated," Nevel said haughtily.

"Our king cannot leave such matters to guessing Nevel.  This is why he tasks us with this important duty," the noble voice of Lord Foxe stated.  He then added, "Enough of this, let us ride and get our answers.  Then we can discuss the voyage home."

"And eat some of that apple pork stew your wife loves to make Macimar.  I would kill for a warm meal again."

Sir Macimar shook his head, "Always thinking with your belly Nevel."

"Hmph, when it comes to your wife I generally think with parts below my belly too,"  Nevel joshed.

Lord Foxe threw himself up into his saddle with ease and gripped the reigns.  He then squeezed gently on Corceneble's flanks putting the mighty horse into a slow gait.  With a tip of his head and a squint of his eyes Marith let known his next statement was on a more serious note, "Nevel, my friend, take care.  Sir Macimar and I will see you in a couple of days.  Be careful."

Nevel nodded knowing his role in this part of the mission.  He was a ranger; many would say the best in the realm.  He would travel into a wide arc around the approaching army; scouting out their trailing lines.  Lord Foxe and Sir Macimar would approach Lord Drehas Haverdack's army from the front, investigating the main force.  Where they would determine the size and strength of the force, Nevel's job was to determine supply lines that no doubt would exist for an army of any measurable size.

Nevel had known Lord Foxe for many years and knew his lord was a calculating man with a good handle on strategic warfare.  His leader would know that it would take a considerable force to breach the Brethen Keep's walls, but to underestimate anyone who attempted a campaign of this magnitude would be foolish.  A warrior of his veteran years, Lord Foxe knew war all too well, he would not take this matter lightly.  More important to the lord, as a honorable subject of the Brethen realm, he could let himself fail the king.

Nevel recalled one of Lord Foxe's famous quotes, "One of the easiest ways to defeat a military power is to sever their ability to obtain food."  This is why Nevel's ranger skills were needed.  He would sneak around and get the details associated with the support structure of the army.  

Fardea - Part 3

Sorry for the delay in posting this. It was a mixture of internet outages/storms, home projects (tree removals, driveway repairs, etc), and vacations that limited my blogging time. So anyways, here is another quick installment with Fardea. Hope you like it.

Protect The Risen: Fardea - Part 3 - Salts The Wound

Check sidebar for details --->

Almost forgot to add the picture of why my internet was out.

Fardea - Part 2

Protect The Risen: Fardea - Part 2 - A Pirate's Fate:

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Part 1 - Fardea

The Adventures of Fardea Panthrex: - Part One - Silence is Lethal-  Check new side bar for story --->

The World of Diar

Protect The Risen: The World of Diar: "An Introduction to the Land of Diar Part 1"  Check the new sidebar -->

New Direction For Blog

After quite a bit of research into the matter I have decided to make some changes here on my blog.  To throw out some credits, I took some advice from both Rachelle Gardner and the folks at Author Tech Tips.  I've been following Rachelle at her blog for some time now and just love all the great advice she doles out.  So if you are not following this wonderful literary agent, I suggest that you start, you won't regret it.  Then Author Tech Tips is a site I have just recently been turned onto and again there is a tremendous amount of information there.

The main issue with my current blog is a similar error many authors make.  Many of us omit the very reason we should be using the social media in the first place; to introduce or hype up our work in progress.  The pitfall is that the author designs the website to be more about them and their life, which of course will not attract followers to well.  Instead, it is suggested to make the blog or website more dynamic consisting of content honed more on the work rather than the author.  Sure give the site some of "you," but also include info about your work.  If you can, it would even be smart to have new content that will actually drive folks to come back.  For example, create a side or back story to your novels and then present it in your blog in issues sent out weekly or some other time interval.  

So with this in mind, I'll first roll an introduction to the world of Diar.  This will let readers know a little bit more about the setting for the novels.  I will also develop a small plot line for one of the more fun characters, Fardea Panthrex, and make it available to readers. So stay tuned.

Small Update

Power is out at the house, and I'll post a pic of the why it is out when I get a chance.  Let us just say I had a small bit of storm damage.  At any rate, so that I stay connected to the internet I'll make a quick entry to the blog with a little bit of an update for the Chances Are novel.  Currently I am in the rewrite of chapter seven, but the first six are now complete. The chapter titles in sequential order are: Untouchable Dreams, Replacing the Fallen, A Touch of Luck, Fleeing Echos, Dreams and Prophesies, Eshendown Gardens, Troubles Aloft, Hell's Holler...  More to come of course.  Hope you all have a nice day.

A team

What was it Hannibal use to say on the A Team?  "I love it when a plan comes together."  Well I kid you not I've been contemplating a certain direction for my book for nearly a year now and it is just now finally coming together for me.  I have been struggling with splitting up my original manuscript into a series and quite frankly hadn't completely figured out how until now.  The intertwining of all three, heck maybe even five books has projected itself out before my mind's eye.  Thank goodness, because I was going insane with all of it jumbled up in there.

So here is the deal I believe the first draft, what I had originally thought was a complete novel was in fact the backbone of an epic fantasy series.  I had written the novel before I understood how to write a novel, if that makes any sense.  So much of the book is great conceptually, but it spanned over to much content without enough depth.  Again I hope that makes sense, if not check out my brainstorming formula post.



Okay so that isn't fair for many of you, since it comes off a bit gibberish.  So imagine instead you want to craft the perfect wedding cake.  Each tier would need to be baked separately, stacked, and decorated.  Then you would place that center piece on it as the final touch, right?  Well making a book can be like that as well, only in my case I flubbed it the first time.  I took one cake and doused it with icing, poured on a whole can of sprinkles (ummm, sprinkles), then pressed , no maybe shoved the center piece deep into the pile of goo.



So now I am sorting through it all.  I've baked a few more cake layers which will tier the story better hefting that climatic final book high into the air.

So my question for the day is, how have you set yourself up for sequels or do you bother?  Do you have it all planned out ahead of time and make book one and two interlaced, foreshadowed with items that will easily breadcrumb the readers on into book three?

In other words are you planning on making three distinct wonderfully made cakes? 

Or one magnificent multi-tiered epic piece of literature? 

 

Our children

The darn editing process can be rough, don't you agree?  We writers create such great proses, at least in our minds, that it becomes difficult if not not impossible for us to let them go.  The attachment is akin to when children run off to college and the parents just don't want to let them leave the nest.  Alas, we must let them go in order to bring our manuscripts to fruition.  Our documents must be culled of paragraphs or even full pages, in some cases, that just do not fit the overall scheme of the book's plot. 

It is hard though, I admit this trouble has found its way to me as well.  I will create a whole backdrop and later have to refine or discard it due to newer ideas that pop into my head.  Ideas that truly do fit better, and drive the story to the climax I have envisioned.  This is not to say that my original idea was bad, but that it no longer adheres well to the flow or line I have developed for the story.

So what do we do with those old discarded pages?  We cut and paste the best of the phrases; we cherish and savor them.  The combination of words that we had sewn together will get adopted as we do our best to squeeze them into the new passages and ideas.  It becomes an adaptation of the orginal concept.  If you had a great fight scene in a bar, but the bar no longer fits as a proper locale, then you keep the fight sequence and place it into another scene like maybe a warehouse.  I know I'm not alone in this concept.  Afterall it is not plagiarism to copy and reuse one's own work; nor is it wrong to covet our 'children' to never get thrown away.

Dreams

Dreams are a tricky subject for some as are internal dialogues.  How do you bring them into the fold of the manuscript and do they even add to it?  Does it distract the reader to be trucking along reading in the present and then have to shift into some alternate past life the character wants to reflect upon?  Lots of questions and as always it is in the writers best interest to make sure that they first know their character well enough to take such a journey, but also that the writer understand the current standard on how to make that transition.  The most important thing I believe must be to establish a smooth movement from one state to the other, otherwise the reader will be left jarred or worse outright confused.

So first do you or do you not introduce the dream or internal aside?  The first question you should ask is of course does this do anything to help drive the story forward?  Also, will the reader eventually get a pay off for reading the information?  I once read an entire series of books, seven I believe, where I was able to literally skip every passage that was italicized.  It became obvious that each of them added nothing to the story and were there merely to add word count, or extra background to character development.  So be careful on this because it is easy to slide into this pitfall, writers love to give back-story to their characters, but at some point this diatribe must help drive the story.  Meaning it has to be a reason for the character to want to grow, to develop, to escape his past and be better, etc.

So now you have accepted that you are going to put the dream, the internal dialogue, or the passage of 'five years earlier' into the book; now what?  A consistent method must be formed that will signal the reader that you are about to enter such a new time or altered state of mind.  Some writers straight out type out the time of the event they are about to describe, others indent.  For dreams I tend to indent or italicize, but this is currently my preference a publisher I suspect will have a hand at the final look of this.  Other methods include physical separation of the stories via page breaks, asterisks or dashes.  There can also be unique ways of showing past thoughts by your character uncovering notes, letters, or media from the long lost reletives or lovers then clipping the excerpts from these finds into your story.  In any event, make sure the reader knows where they are headed and why.

Show not Tell

I'm not sure it would classify as a debate or not but have you ever heard an agent, or maybe read somewhere that your writing should show the reader the world you are creating and not just tell them about it.  I find there is a lot of truth in this precept.  For instance, how would you describe the moment when the iconic baddies such as Jason and Freddy Krueger (in movies), or maybe Voldemort and Matron Baenre (in books) enter the scene.  When such important characters such as these make their appearances I think it is of utmost importance that they leave a reader with a lasting memory, heck even chills would be nice.

This would be an easy example though, what about the other parts of the book.  Do you think it is important to describe the scenery in such a way that "shows" rather than "tells".  Take for instance a simple romantic stroll on the beach between your two love birds.  How many pages would you dedicate to describing the ocean, the sky, the sand?  Would you have a small aside that tells about the origin of a tiny dark shell that protrudes out of the surf or would that just distract from the moment?  I guess the amount of detail should be kept in balance so long as there is enough to help put the reader in the scene with the characters.  Help the reader smell the salty air and feel the squish of the damp sand beneath their toes.

Some writers use a good bit of dialogue to achieve much of the meat in their manuscript.  A lot can be said about this particular style and of course their are a lot of readers that enjoy a good exchange of verbal cues to tell them what is going on in the book's world.  She pointed down, "Sam look at that shell over there, why do you think it is so dark compared to the others?"  Kaylie asked.  Sam dipped down and scooped up the broken conch and examined it.  He brushed the loose sand off the surface and looked up searching for a good explanation.  She loved his extravagant tales and off the wall whit.   "A long time ago this shell was the home a little mollusk named Onivia.  She was no stranger to adventure..."  And so Sam would give his dialogue.

I guess the moral of this little blog is take a look at your writing, a hard look.  Read it to yourself, heck have others read it to you.  Then close your eyes and picture the scene, can you do it?  Were there to many gaps in the sentences that keep you from picturing it well.  Don't be afraid to rewrite and expand on some of your descriptions and dialogues to achieve this.  Your reader should never have to reach to far to get 'there.'  Where there is that place you are trying to take them to whether it be the next state over or some distant fantasical world.  Yes of course they need to have some use of their own imagination to help along the journey, but don't push it to far.  In other words don't just 'tell' it to them so they think they are reading an encyclopedia entry on the locale, "show' them the place through great use of your words.       

No One's Perfect

So here's the deal you aren't the best writer out there.  I know it stinks to hear it but you aren't and neither am I.  Okay now that we have that settled lets dive into why it is important to know and accept this fact.  I would expect that many other writers and I feel the need to be recognized at some point for my life.  I will not stay in the shadows forever and plunk away on this keyboard hoping no one will ever notice what I'm writing.  I write for purpose not obscurity.

Having said that, I know deep down I battle with the notion that what if and hopefully when my manuscript is read it turns out to be the best thing ever written.  It is a struggle all people feel at some point in their lives have as they fight the forces of making a mark in history.  So back to where we began, I am not the best and neither are you.  Again why is that important, to keep rubbing in. 

If in your mind you feel like you are the best, then you would then not be open to new ideas or ways of doing things.  Why would you be, you are the best and nothing anyone can show or tell you can possibly help you.  You are immaculate with your strokes of genius.  You are impeccable with your awe inspiring words.

Truth be told though, even if you were at the top of your game someone out there is not going to like your work.  So take it from another imperfect writer, there is room for improvement.  There is so much room that you should keep your mind open every day for new opportunites to expand in what you know.  Never stop asking questions of that which is going on around you.  Take it all in with fresh perspectives and discover new ways of expressing it into words, don't be afraid to experiment with our wonderful language.       

Seeing Manuscripts

It was eighth grade and the teacher needed to move me to the back of the room for some reason.  If memory serves she needed to split up some disorderly students.  Who would have thought such a mundane act as that would have such a huge impact on my life.

I sat there for many days watching curiously as the teacher would scribble on the blackboard not quite understanding why she expected me to be able to see what she was writing.  The fat and crumbly yellow chalk she used seemed to run together. I found myself having trouble keeping up with the class as I did my best to hear rather than see what was being taught.  Turns out I was blind as a bat, not as bad a some folks I've met in my lifetime, but bad never the less.  Let us just say you would not want a feller like that behind the steering wheel or operating some sort of heavy machinery.

The question of course comes up, how could no one have ever noticed?  Why did it take till eighth grade to discover this out.  Only thing I can come up with is that the topic never came up.  I had probably just grown up that way and learned to adapt, not knowing that seeing better was an option.

Thankfully my mom caught on to my difficulties and whisked me off to an eye doctor.  A couple hours later I was seeing the world literally through a new set of eyes.  My whole life experience exploded before me as those thick rimmed glasses were slid on.  Everything was crisp and sharp edged; who knew that trees had leaves and were not just green blobs in the distance.  In modern times folks would equate the revelation as going from analog/RCA cabled TV to High Definition LED Blue Ray/ HDMI cabled TV.  It was that dramatic of a change, trust me on that.

So why on earth do I ramble on about all this and how does it tie into this blog.  For me there is a time in every writers career, heck for some lucky individuals it probably happens more than once, that an epiphany moment occurs.  It is when the plot lines explode off the pages and the drab text becomes more than just a bunch of words.  It is when the characters grow beyond the words and touch a writer's heart.  The manuscript is forever changed leaving behind dull one sided meanings and exchanges them for deep cranial experiences the writer can not wait to share with their readers in the hopes that they "get" the hidden meanings and references.  So I wish to all my fellow writers that your manuscripts find their crisp, sharp edges and that their readers can easily say 'that book had substance, I felt it.'  Or as I discovered and was happy to admit when I was young wore those glasses for the first time, "That tree has leaves and it isn't just a green blob."      

Hug A Cat Day

For those who don't know it is supposedly National Hug Your Cat Day.  In some cases I realize this is probably a dangerous proposition, but hopefully for those of you with lazy fat cats you'll get yourselves a nice big hug.  For those who get mauled, I leave you these fun pics to at least get some joy out of the day.  Have a good one...