I had my ideas on paper. In point form, they didn't really evoke a sense of awe. Rather, it was thirty-odd pages of scribbles that, frankly, looked like a really long doctor's prescription. I could read it, but just barely.
It wasn't entirely my fault. I was writing at a break-neck pace, trying to get all the ideas out so I wouldn't forget anything. I wrote until my fingers cramped and I wrote while my fingers were cramping. I wrote beyond that until my hand was numb. In fact I wrote so much, the body of the pen made an imprint in my finger and thumb that lasted days after I put it down.
My brother once took me jogging. I'm not much of a jogger. I'm more of a sitter. An eat-chips-and-swig-Pepsi-by-the-gallon-then-take-a-nap-before-bed sitter. About five minutes into the jog, I was panting and sweating enough cola out my pores to cause diabetes. I begged him to stop. I don't think he heard what I said; the words sort of stumbled out between death-rattle gasps. But he got the gist, I think, by the begging look I gave him and the fact that I was gripping my guts as though I was afraid they were going to fall out.
Of course, he wasn't even winded. The man's an ox: martial arts, weight-lifting, calisthenics: his left pinky finger can bench press more than I can.
He looked at me and smiled (he smiled!) and said, "You gotta push through the pain."
I don't think he knew this, but after he turned back around to keep up his torturous pace, I flipped him the bird. Okay, I didn't. I tried, but I couldn't seem to stop my arm from flopping around like spaghetti.
But as I wrote, I understood. I wrote, and I wrote, and it didn't matter if my hand was turning into a twisted, mal-formed claw. It didn't matter if my arm went numb. I just had to keep writing. Push through the pain: I got it.
And it only got worse. You see, at this point, it was time to organize the point-form notes into an actual story. I mentioned I didn't yet have my laptop. It was all done by hand. I went through a box of pens before the story was down. I went through two packages of lined paper. I went through a dozen layers of skin.
I would not stop until it was out of me. Strangely, I would not stop because I could not stop. I was gripped by some manner of ghost, possessed by some sort of demon, that would not let me lay my pen down, that laughed maniacally whenever my knuckles seized. The bastard.
Three months passed like this. Three mind-numbing, knuckle-busting months. I don't remember much else from that time. I've never been so obsessed about anything ever. When I laid my pen down, forcing my fingers apart to do so, I stared at the page, at the words, "The End" with a combination elation and sadness. Elated because I had done it, and sad because, well, the story was out. It's like saying good-bye to your best friend. I know that sounds weird. I mean, the story was sitting right there, right in front of me. But it wasn't the same. And I felt sad.
But it was done. I now had my book, The Path of the Sword, out of me. On paper.
And that's not what any of you read. That was only draft 1. The story had to do a lot of growing before it became the book you read (or maybe you didn't, I won't judge). That part of the process took much, much longer.
Especially since it was around that time that I got my laptop. *Sigh*
Wednesday 14 December 2011
Tuesday 6 December 2011
Behind the Scenes Mechanics
My lovely Cori had succeeded in kicking me in the butt (metaphorically).
After the kick in the butt (metaphorically), I was brimming with energy. I wanted to write this book. I needed to write it.
I pulled out paper and pen (I didn't have my laptop yet) and started scribbling away.
And that's all I was doing: scribbling. Sure, I had ideas. Sure, the whole story was there in my head trying to pop out. That was the problem: the entire story was trying to pop out all at once. If you don't already know this, take it from me: trying to get a dozen ideas out all at the same time doesn't work.
After a few pages of garbled junk, I sat back in frustration. I needed to do something about this. I needed to organize my ideas into one cohesive, chronological list.
Well, though I hadn't written much since high school, I still remembered some of the lessons. I realized an outline was needed. So I sat and started getting my ideas out in point form, line by line. Each fully developed idea became a scene...scenes that tied in became chapters. Oh sure, I had to move a few scenes around, chapter 6 became chapter 8, chapter 7 became chapter 6; all for the sake of clarity and, well frankly, entertainment.
When I put my pen down, I had about thirty pages of notes.
And the basic outline of The Path of the Sword.
And then the fun started.
After the kick in the butt (metaphorically), I was brimming with energy. I wanted to write this book. I needed to write it.
I pulled out paper and pen (I didn't have my laptop yet) and started scribbling away.
And that's all I was doing: scribbling. Sure, I had ideas. Sure, the whole story was there in my head trying to pop out. That was the problem: the entire story was trying to pop out all at once. If you don't already know this, take it from me: trying to get a dozen ideas out all at the same time doesn't work.
After a few pages of garbled junk, I sat back in frustration. I needed to do something about this. I needed to organize my ideas into one cohesive, chronological list.
Well, though I hadn't written much since high school, I still remembered some of the lessons. I realized an outline was needed. So I sat and started getting my ideas out in point form, line by line. Each fully developed idea became a scene...scenes that tied in became chapters. Oh sure, I had to move a few scenes around, chapter 6 became chapter 8, chapter 7 became chapter 6; all for the sake of clarity and, well frankly, entertainment.
When I put my pen down, I had about thirty pages of notes.
And the basic outline of The Path of the Sword.
And then the fun started.
Tuesday 29 November 2011
In the Beginning...
I've embarked on quite the journey. I've been through a lot since I released The Path of the Sword. I'm a pretty private kind of person so not much of what I've been doing gets posted here--which, in retrospect, you're probably grateful for. I mean, who wants to hear about my work day? Really? I suppose if you had a case of insomnia I could help you out. Or if you were suffering from a rough case of "good mood" I have just the cure.
But I'm digressing. I haven't even gotten to the point and I'm already digressing. This bodes well.
With the holiday season at hand, I find I'm reminiscing about things past; between memories of my daughter taking her first steps and my son hurling his very dirty diaper across his bedroom (that was a good day), I somehow managed to think about how I got on this whole writing kick.
First, a little background. I'm a reader. I've always been a reader. I don't think I've gone anywhere without a book since I was ten. But writing...not so much. You see, I was a COMPUTER GUY. I didn't have time to write stories. I was busy writing code.
But about a decade ago, I got an idea for a story. I was excited by it so, naturally, I sat down to write it. It was the first thing I really tried to write--besides creative writing assignments in high school that is. I wrote approximately ten pages--the prologue and the first chapter. Then I read it. Then, horrified by the atrocity I had committed to computer screen, I repeatedly slammed the delete key until all trace of what I had done was gone forever.
It was bad, is what I'm saying. It was eye-gougingly bad. It was...well I think there are statutes in the Geneva convention that make what I had done a crime against humanity.
Resigned, I decided I would--could--never try again.
Yeah. Okay.
About three years ago, an image popped into my head. Clear as day. It was the climax to The Path of the Sword. I don't know where it came from but, by golly, it was compelling. I dared not ruin it by actually writing it, but I thought about it.
Over the next few weeks, more images came to my head, surrounding the original climactic scene like a posse and I couldn't shake them. Those scenes stuck to me like glue. It got so bad, I started telling my lovely Cori about them. I told her over and over again about the scenes that played out in my head (but did not dare write) and she listened. At first, she listened because she thought it sounded neat. Then, after a week or two, she listened because it was polite. After a month or so, I think she listened only because she loves me just that much.
I was annoying, is what I'm saying. I never shut up about it. I actually had the whole damned thing in my head from start to finish and she heard it all. Over and over again. And soon her smile started to seem forced. If you've ever seen someone smiling while their jaw muscles are clenching repeatedly, you know what smile I'm talking about.
Well, one day, I was talking about it again. Yes, imagine that. Somewhere in the middle of my monologue, Cori sighed deeply and loudly. She leaned forward and placed her hands on my cheeks. She smiled. It was a radiant smile, the kind of smile that stops hearts and turns knees to water. She looked deep into my eyes, and she said, "Sweetie, I love you. More than anything. But please, p*** or get off the pot."
"Huh?" I stammered as my head tried to wrap itself around the incongruity of her words and her smile.
"Either write the thing or shut up about it."
I don't really know why, but it was as if those words were a kind of...mitigation, maybe a pardon for my previous atrocity. I could write it--no one had to be exposed to it if it sucked.
After I finished, Cori read it. She knew the story, of course. I'd told her often enough. But she wanted to read it. I spent the next two days cringing, just waiting for her to tell me what I already knew: "Sweetie, you know I love you. But..."
When she put the last page down, she looked at me and said, "Sweetie, you know I love you. But...How long do you expect me to wait for the second part?"
"Huh?" I stammered.
"This was awesome. I want the next one."
"Huh?" I stammered (She does that to me a lot).
But I'm digressing. I haven't even gotten to the point and I'm already digressing. This bodes well.
With the holiday season at hand, I find I'm reminiscing about things past; between memories of my daughter taking her first steps and my son hurling his very dirty diaper across his bedroom (that was a good day), I somehow managed to think about how I got on this whole writing kick.
First, a little background. I'm a reader. I've always been a reader. I don't think I've gone anywhere without a book since I was ten. But writing...not so much. You see, I was a COMPUTER GUY. I didn't have time to write stories. I was busy writing code.
But about a decade ago, I got an idea for a story. I was excited by it so, naturally, I sat down to write it. It was the first thing I really tried to write--besides creative writing assignments in high school that is. I wrote approximately ten pages--the prologue and the first chapter. Then I read it. Then, horrified by the atrocity I had committed to computer screen, I repeatedly slammed the delete key until all trace of what I had done was gone forever.
It was bad, is what I'm saying. It was eye-gougingly bad. It was...well I think there are statutes in the Geneva convention that make what I had done a crime against humanity.
Resigned, I decided I would--could--never try again.
Yeah. Okay.
About three years ago, an image popped into my head. Clear as day. It was the climax to The Path of the Sword. I don't know where it came from but, by golly, it was compelling. I dared not ruin it by actually writing it, but I thought about it.
Over the next few weeks, more images came to my head, surrounding the original climactic scene like a posse and I couldn't shake them. Those scenes stuck to me like glue. It got so bad, I started telling my lovely Cori about them. I told her over and over again about the scenes that played out in my head (but did not dare write) and she listened. At first, she listened because she thought it sounded neat. Then, after a week or two, she listened because it was polite. After a month or so, I think she listened only because she loves me just that much.
I was annoying, is what I'm saying. I never shut up about it. I actually had the whole damned thing in my head from start to finish and she heard it all. Over and over again. And soon her smile started to seem forced. If you've ever seen someone smiling while their jaw muscles are clenching repeatedly, you know what smile I'm talking about.
Well, one day, I was talking about it again. Yes, imagine that. Somewhere in the middle of my monologue, Cori sighed deeply and loudly. She leaned forward and placed her hands on my cheeks. She smiled. It was a radiant smile, the kind of smile that stops hearts and turns knees to water. She looked deep into my eyes, and she said, "Sweetie, I love you. More than anything. But please, p*** or get off the pot."
"Huh?" I stammered as my head tried to wrap itself around the incongruity of her words and her smile.
"Either write the thing or shut up about it."
I don't really know why, but it was as if those words were a kind of...mitigation, maybe a pardon for my previous atrocity. I could write it--no one had to be exposed to it if it sucked.
After I finished, Cori read it. She knew the story, of course. I'd told her often enough. But she wanted to read it. I spent the next two days cringing, just waiting for her to tell me what I already knew: "Sweetie, you know I love you. But..."
When she put the last page down, she looked at me and said, "Sweetie, you know I love you. But...How long do you expect me to wait for the second part?"
"Huh?" I stammered.
"This was awesome. I want the next one."
"Huh?" I stammered (She does that to me a lot).
And here we are. The Path of the Sword is out and readers seem to generally enjoy it (though I've taken the criticisms to heart: from now on, I'm going to ask a professional editor to tear my work apart). Blood of War is out and, again, readers seem to generally enjoy it. I'm writing book 3 of Rites of Ascension (title still pending). I have a half dozen other ideas that I want to get to. I have this blog (that I fully admit is not updated nearly enough but, come on! You don't want to know how my son and daughter can get into a screaming match over a sticker book!)
Looks like I'll be writing for a while. Who'd a thunk it?
Thanks everyone.
Friday 28 October 2011
Decisions, Decisions
You know, I never knew the writing process could be so difficult.
I'll explain it briefly...then I'll end my little rant. Then I'll probably go to bed. After a bowl of chips.
Here's the deal. Rites of Ascension III is well under way. Jurel and his friends are embroiled in some pretty dicey stuff. So far, so good. The problem lies in that I have more ideas for dealing with their situations than I have pages. I've hit a couple of spots where I'm not sure which one is the best.
Now, there are a few solutions:
1) Eeny meeny miney moe. Yeah, I don't like that one either.
2) Play out each one in my head and write the one that sounds best. This one makes me uncomfortable: I can never be sure I've explored it all until it's down on paper.
3) Write them all. Then pick the best one. Ooh. Time consuming. But at least I'll know.
No one ever said this was gonna be easy.
I'm working on it. It'll be out as soon as I can get it done--to my satisfaction. I want the story to be right!
Thanks for your patience, folks.
Okay, rant done. I'm going to go check up on Metana.
I'll explain it briefly...then I'll end my little rant. Then I'll probably go to bed. After a bowl of chips.
Here's the deal. Rites of Ascension III is well under way. Jurel and his friends are embroiled in some pretty dicey stuff. So far, so good. The problem lies in that I have more ideas for dealing with their situations than I have pages. I've hit a couple of spots where I'm not sure which one is the best.
Now, there are a few solutions:
1) Eeny meeny miney moe. Yeah, I don't like that one either.
2) Play out each one in my head and write the one that sounds best. This one makes me uncomfortable: I can never be sure I've explored it all until it's down on paper.
3) Write them all. Then pick the best one. Ooh. Time consuming. But at least I'll know.
No one ever said this was gonna be easy.
I'm working on it. It'll be out as soon as I can get it done--to my satisfaction. I want the story to be right!
Thanks for your patience, folks.
Okay, rant done. I'm going to go check up on Metana.
Wednesday 5 October 2011
To Promote or Not to Promote
There is an issue that has been at the forefront of my mind for months now. It's an issue that is a hot topic among indie writers. Can you guess what it is? Can you?
Oh, right. It's in the title.
Promotion. Ads, giveaways, book-signings, interviews, reviews, rinse, repeat. Is it important? Is it necessary? I don't know. But to some authors, it seems that promotion is more important than production. I mean, they spend months or years producing the next great literary work, then when they publish it, they seem to forget that they're writers. They become marketers. They work constantly, obsessively at it, always trying to find that one great technique or method that'll guarantee bestseller status.
I would never argue that promoting is useless. We've all got to get word of our masterpieces out, we've got to let all the readers out there know that we have something they'll love. But it's too much. Too much stress.
Let's see, between my efforts to get as much writing as possible done, a full time job, spending time with my wife and kids, chores, errands, and time to, you know, eat, sleep and have the occasional shower, I don't have a whole lot of time left over to devote to promoting my books.
Yet, I'm doing all right. Thanks to all the fantastic folks out there, I'm doing all right. J.K. Rowling does not fear that I'll break her sales numbers any time soon but readers are finding my books, readers are reading my books and it seems that readers are enjoying my books (and, hopefully, they'll continue to do so for years to come).
Can promoting more (in my case, 'more' would be read as 'at all') help my sales? Maybe. But enough to warrant all the time that I could have used to continue writing the conclusion to Rites of Ascension? Or even the time that I could be wrestling with my son, or playing tea party with my daughter? I don't know. It has worked for some. The big names in indie publishing--John Locke, Amanda Hocking, J.A. Konrath--have certainly benefited from marketing. But for every story I hear of promoting making a real difference, there are fifty stories of authors who have promoted the living heck out of their work and they're struggling to find even a handful of readers.
There's one more thing to consider. I, too, am a consumer. But when I'm online, I don't look at ads. I just don't register them. They appear all over the place and I sail right on by. Assuming I'm normal (according to my lovely Cori, that's a shaky assumption but never mind that) then it seems plausible to extrapolate that many others don't stop what they're doing to read the ads either. So what's the point?
This will raise many eyebrows among the indie crowd--to many, marketing is as important, or more important, than writing. To those, I say, "Hey, it's a free country. Do what you like." I think what I'd like to do is write a few pages and then color a picture with my daughter.
Oh, right. It's in the title.
Promotion. Ads, giveaways, book-signings, interviews, reviews, rinse, repeat. Is it important? Is it necessary? I don't know. But to some authors, it seems that promotion is more important than production. I mean, they spend months or years producing the next great literary work, then when they publish it, they seem to forget that they're writers. They become marketers. They work constantly, obsessively at it, always trying to find that one great technique or method that'll guarantee bestseller status.
I would never argue that promoting is useless. We've all got to get word of our masterpieces out, we've got to let all the readers out there know that we have something they'll love. But it's too much. Too much stress.
Let's see, between my efforts to get as much writing as possible done, a full time job, spending time with my wife and kids, chores, errands, and time to, you know, eat, sleep and have the occasional shower, I don't have a whole lot of time left over to devote to promoting my books.
Yet, I'm doing all right. Thanks to all the fantastic folks out there, I'm doing all right. J.K. Rowling does not fear that I'll break her sales numbers any time soon but readers are finding my books, readers are reading my books and it seems that readers are enjoying my books (and, hopefully, they'll continue to do so for years to come).
Can promoting more (in my case, 'more' would be read as 'at all') help my sales? Maybe. But enough to warrant all the time that I could have used to continue writing the conclusion to Rites of Ascension? Or even the time that I could be wrestling with my son, or playing tea party with my daughter? I don't know. It has worked for some. The big names in indie publishing--John Locke, Amanda Hocking, J.A. Konrath--have certainly benefited from marketing. But for every story I hear of promoting making a real difference, there are fifty stories of authors who have promoted the living heck out of their work and they're struggling to find even a handful of readers.
There's one more thing to consider. I, too, am a consumer. But when I'm online, I don't look at ads. I just don't register them. They appear all over the place and I sail right on by. Assuming I'm normal (according to my lovely Cori, that's a shaky assumption but never mind that) then it seems plausible to extrapolate that many others don't stop what they're doing to read the ads either. So what's the point?
This will raise many eyebrows among the indie crowd--to many, marketing is as important, or more important, than writing. To those, I say, "Hey, it's a free country. Do what you like." I think what I'd like to do is write a few pages and then color a picture with my daughter.
Thursday 8 September 2011
Rites of Ascension II: Blood of War Now Available
It's out and on sale at Amazon.com for $2.99!
The Journey Continues.
After his foster father's brutal murder, Jurel Histane unleashed powers beyond his comprehension, perpetrating a bloodbath that left him horrified to the core of his soul.
That day, he discovered the truth.
He knows who he is, he knows what he is.
And now he is on the run, accompanied by his only friends: Kurin, a Salosian healer; Mikal, the commander of the Salosian army; and Gaven, once Jurel's enemy.
He is on the run from a relentless foe: the Soldiers of God, the military army of the Prelacy, intent on destroying him before the truth gets out.
He is on the run from himself, from the darkness lurking, from the awesome power that he desperately does not want.
But there can be no escape. He must either confront the forces rallying against him, or he must die. And if he dies, the world dies with him.
Yet, before he can face his enemy, he must face himself. He must come to terms with the terrible truth that has been hidden all his life beneath the facade of the simple farm boy he once was.
After his foster father's brutal murder, Jurel Histane unleashed powers beyond his comprehension, perpetrating a bloodbath that left him horrified to the core of his soul.
That day, he discovered the truth.
He knows who he is, he knows what he is.
And now he is on the run, accompanied by his only friends: Kurin, a Salosian healer; Mikal, the commander of the Salosian army; and Gaven, once Jurel's enemy.
He is on the run from a relentless foe: the Soldiers of God, the military army of the Prelacy, intent on destroying him before the truth gets out.
He is on the run from himself, from the darkness lurking, from the awesome power that he desperately does not want.
But there can be no escape. He must either confront the forces rallying against him, or he must die. And if he dies, the world dies with him.
Yet, before he can face his enemy, he must face himself. He must come to terms with the terrible truth that has been hidden all his life beneath the facade of the simple farm boy he once was.
Tuesday 6 September 2011
Rites of Ascension II: Blood of War
The wait is over! Rites of Ascension II: Blood of War is finished! Look for it in the Kindle store at Amazon.com by the beginning of next week!
Thanks for your patience. And an extra thanks to Kathleen Valentine at Valentine Design for another phenomenal cover!
Thursday 1 September 2011
Ever Seen a Grown Man Cry?
Yeah, so have I. You hit him with a line-drive in the right place and he's bound to weep a little. But that's not the point here.
So.
Tomorrow is September 2nd. The Friday before Labour Day. Long weekend. Last big summer weekend. After this weekend, it's back to business, back to the slog, back to school.
My daughter is going to school. Junior Kindergarten. She's four.
Seems weird that I'm so choked up about this whole thing. It's a fact of life, it's a part of growing up, it is what it is. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, every time I think about it, I end up all teary eyed and caught between a deep sense of sorrow and a nearly overwhelming pride.
So.
Tomorrow, before I go to work, I'm going to drive her to school. I'm going to help her out of her seat belt (which seems to be more appropriate for a race car driver or a fighter pilot). I'm going to give her a big hug, and a kiss on the forehead. I'm going to tell her how much I love her and how proud of her I am. And then I'm going to hope she turns away before I sniffle.
Then I'll go and find a quiet place to continue working on Rites of Ascension III (title yet pending).
By the way, Blood of War is done. The final draft is here, and I like it. All I'm waiting for is the cover art. I realize it's an afterthought here but I'm thinking about my little girl.
Sorry for the maudlin ramble.
So.
Tomorrow is September 2nd. The Friday before Labour Day. Long weekend. Last big summer weekend. After this weekend, it's back to business, back to the slog, back to school.
My daughter is going to school. Junior Kindergarten. She's four.
Seems weird that I'm so choked up about this whole thing. It's a fact of life, it's a part of growing up, it is what it is. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, every time I think about it, I end up all teary eyed and caught between a deep sense of sorrow and a nearly overwhelming pride.
So.
Tomorrow, before I go to work, I'm going to drive her to school. I'm going to help her out of her seat belt (which seems to be more appropriate for a race car driver or a fighter pilot). I'm going to give her a big hug, and a kiss on the forehead. I'm going to tell her how much I love her and how proud of her I am. And then I'm going to hope she turns away before I sniffle.
Then I'll go and find a quiet place to continue working on Rites of Ascension III (title yet pending).
By the way, Blood of War is done. The final draft is here, and I like it. All I'm waiting for is the cover art. I realize it's an afterthought here but I'm thinking about my little girl.
Sorry for the maudlin ramble.
Wednesday 17 August 2011
Oh My Goodness How Time Flies!
Has it been almost a month? Really? Where have I been?
More precisely, how did a month go by so quickly?
All right, well of course I know the answer to that. Between upheavals at work, a family vacation that covered half the continent (By car. With a hyper-active four year old. And a seventeen month old that has a scream that physically hurts--I know this. I heard it often), and house-type stuff that couldn't wait any longer, I've been busy. Like wake-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn-and-don't-sit-down-until-I-collapsed-zombified-into-bed busy.
So, I apologize for the dearth of updates here. I hope things have settled enough that I'll have more time to devote to this, my budding career.
There is some good news and some bad news:
The good news is, work on Rites of Ascension II: Blood of War continues. It's really, seriously, truly almost ready to hit Amazon.
The bad news is it's not going as quickly as I'd hoped. It's coming, and it's not going to be much longer, but I still need to finish revising it one last time--and I'm about half way through. The story is fine. I just want to make sure I get the words and the tone right. I'm still hoping for the end of August. There's not that much left.
So, to recap:
1) I am, in fact, alive. Sorry about the lack of updates.
2) Life happens; I've been insanely busy.
3) Blood of War is almost done. Really.
4) Thanks for your patience.
5) I'll be talking to you soon!
Now, back to getting pounced on by a hyper-active four year old and a seventeen month old with a painful scream.
More precisely, how did a month go by so quickly?
All right, well of course I know the answer to that. Between upheavals at work, a family vacation that covered half the continent (By car. With a hyper-active four year old. And a seventeen month old that has a scream that physically hurts--I know this. I heard it often), and house-type stuff that couldn't wait any longer, I've been busy. Like wake-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn-and-don't-sit-down-until-I-collapsed-zombified-into-bed busy.
So, I apologize for the dearth of updates here. I hope things have settled enough that I'll have more time to devote to this, my budding career.
There is some good news and some bad news:
The good news is, work on Rites of Ascension II: Blood of War continues. It's really, seriously, truly almost ready to hit Amazon.
The bad news is it's not going as quickly as I'd hoped. It's coming, and it's not going to be much longer, but I still need to finish revising it one last time--and I'm about half way through. The story is fine. I just want to make sure I get the words and the tone right. I'm still hoping for the end of August. There's not that much left.
So, to recap:
1) I am, in fact, alive. Sorry about the lack of updates.
2) Life happens; I've been insanely busy.
3) Blood of War is almost done. Really.
4) Thanks for your patience.
5) I'll be talking to you soon!
Now, back to getting pounced on by a hyper-active four year old and a seventeen month old with a painful scream.
Friday 22 July 2011
Mr. Konrath is absolutely right. Again.
Here's the thing. I'm trying to become a better writer. I want my stories to mean something, to say something...and say it well.
If you're not a writer, then let me tell you: writing a book, any book, is...easy. Writing a good book...well that's hard.
Mr. Konrath over at A Newbie's Guide to Publishing tells us something very important:
Be Deliberate.
I won't bother rehashing his words here because he's done a perfectly fine job. Check it out here.
If you're not a writer, then let me tell you: writing a book, any book, is...easy. Writing a good book...well that's hard.
Mr. Konrath over at A Newbie's Guide to Publishing tells us something very important:
Be Deliberate.
I won't bother rehashing his words here because he's done a perfectly fine job. Check it out here.
Wednesday 6 July 2011
Some Surprising Revelations: Books I Didn't think I'd Like
I suppose it comes as no surprise that I prefer reading fantasy novels. Specifically, I like epic and series fantasy. That love affair started when I was about twelve, so that would be...add two...carry the one...twenty-three years ago. Twenty-three years in which I have concentrated heavily on the fantasy shelves. There are plenty of good and great fantasy series out there: Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time, Terry Brooks Shannara stuff, Terry Goodkind's Sword of Truth--there are too many to enumerate here.
Lately, I've had the urge to explore, to experiment in other genres. I knew a long time ago that there were plenty of great books in other genres but I'd forgotten.
I have a few I'd like to mention here:
Seize the Night, Dean Koontz:
Wow, what descriptive writing. Each and every image he paints is absolutely the best possible image for that moment. The writing flows like water and the characters float on top. My favourite Dean Koontz book.
Over the Edge, Jonathan Kellerman:
Classic whodunit with a neat spin. Writing that evokes the old fashioned cop mysteries but somehow manages to avoid being cliched. A deeply involved mystery that had me guessing right up to the climax.
The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, Stephen King:
I have a daughter only a little younger than the protagonist, Trisha. I kept wanting to put the book down because my heart was constantly in my throat, and yet the damned thing stayed glued to my hands until I read the last word. Damn you, Mr. King. Damn you!
The Name of the Wind, Patrick Rothfuss:
I know it's fantasy so I'm cheating. It's my blog. I can do that. I haven't read Wise Man's Fear yet but if it's half as good as The Name of the Wind, then it's still better than 90% of everything else out there. That book is the most beautifully written book I've ever had the honour to read. I don't even know where to begin extolling its virtues without sounding like Mr. Rothfuss's publisher paid me copious amounts of money. Mr. Rothfuss, thank you.
There have been many other good books that have kept me up past my bedtime, or gotten me in trouble with my lovely Cori--"Remi, where's the fire extinguisher?" "Hold on, hold on. I'm at a good part."--but these are the ones that stick out most in my head.
Happy reading!
Lately, I've had the urge to explore, to experiment in other genres. I knew a long time ago that there were plenty of great books in other genres but I'd forgotten.
I have a few I'd like to mention here:
Seize the Night, Dean Koontz:
Wow, what descriptive writing. Each and every image he paints is absolutely the best possible image for that moment. The writing flows like water and the characters float on top. My favourite Dean Koontz book.
Over the Edge, Jonathan Kellerman:
Classic whodunit with a neat spin. Writing that evokes the old fashioned cop mysteries but somehow manages to avoid being cliched. A deeply involved mystery that had me guessing right up to the climax.
The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, Stephen King:
I have a daughter only a little younger than the protagonist, Trisha. I kept wanting to put the book down because my heart was constantly in my throat, and yet the damned thing stayed glued to my hands until I read the last word. Damn you, Mr. King. Damn you!
The Name of the Wind, Patrick Rothfuss:
I know it's fantasy so I'm cheating. It's my blog. I can do that. I haven't read Wise Man's Fear yet but if it's half as good as The Name of the Wind, then it's still better than 90% of everything else out there. That book is the most beautifully written book I've ever had the honour to read. I don't even know where to begin extolling its virtues without sounding like Mr. Rothfuss's publisher paid me copious amounts of money. Mr. Rothfuss, thank you.
There have been many other good books that have kept me up past my bedtime, or gotten me in trouble with my lovely Cori--"Remi, where's the fire extinguisher?" "Hold on, hold on. I'm at a good part."--but these are the ones that stick out most in my head.
Happy reading!
Tuesday 21 June 2011
Upcoming: Rites of Ascension II
A few people have been asking me about Rites of Ascension II.
First of all, I have to say THANK YOU to all of you who have read The Path of the Sword. I hope you enjoyed it. For those of you who haven't read it, here's the link on Amazon. (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge).
Now, enough shilling. Back to the original question. Book two of the Rites of Ascension trilogy, tentatively called Blood of War, is close. I've finished the third draft (or is it the fourth? It's all a blur) and it's now in the hands of the proof-readers. Once they've finished giving me feedback (read: tearing it to pieces), I'll revise it one last time.
Then it's just the last details.
So, in answer to the question: It's still tentative (as you can probably tell by the lack of an exact date) but if everything goes well, I'm hoping for mid- to late August.
Of course, the closer it gets, the better I'll be able to narrow it down for you. I'll post it here first.
Thanks again to all of you! Cheers!
First of all, I have to say THANK YOU to all of you who have read The Path of the Sword. I hope you enjoyed it. For those of you who haven't read it, here's the link on Amazon. (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge).
Now, enough shilling. Back to the original question. Book two of the Rites of Ascension trilogy, tentatively called Blood of War, is close. I've finished the third draft (or is it the fourth? It's all a blur) and it's now in the hands of the proof-readers. Once they've finished giving me feedback (read: tearing it to pieces), I'll revise it one last time.
Then it's just the last details.
So, in answer to the question: It's still tentative (as you can probably tell by the lack of an exact date) but if everything goes well, I'm hoping for mid- to late August.
Of course, the closer it gets, the better I'll be able to narrow it down for you. I'll post it here first.
Thanks again to all of you! Cheers!
Saturday 11 June 2011
Thoughts On Reviews, aka An Important Conclusion
I've come to a conclusion. I think it's an important one. No, I know it's an important one.
Recently, The Path of the Sword got a three star review. This may sound strange but, after back to back to back five star reviews, I was distraught. I really was. Why strange, you ask? What's the big deal, you wonder? After all, three stars isn't that bad. It's not like it was a one star. It's not like the reviewer said the book was complete trash and buying it was a waste of money and time. In fact, the reviewer said the writing was good, that I know how to paint a picture. His main beef was that he thought my book was too long, too wordy. So, not a bad review. Not a great review, but not bad.
I got to thinking about what the reviewer said. I started trying to think about how I would incorporate his suggestions into my writing. I wrote a few pages, and I kept asking myself if this fit the bill, if I was in fact writing more efficiently.
It was about this point that I began to realize that I was doubting myself. I was second-guessing every word that I wrote. I agonized over every one of my decisions. When I went back and re-read the last few days of work, I noticed a few of things:
I thought about that for a while and here is where I finally caught a glimpse of my big conclusion. I was no longer writing for myself; I was writing for someone else. I was, in a way, writing by committee. It showed. I was trying to write in a style that was not my own, and it showed. Those pages that I read back weren't even my writing.
What's the answer? Getting reviews is a fact of life for any writer. There will be good ones and there will be bad ones. The trick is to not allow them to dictate how I write.
I write in a particular style. In time, as I gain experience, I'm certain my writing will evolve. Perhaps I'll get better--I definitely hope so; I don't want to stagnate. I want to try new things. I want to see myself grow as a writer.
But that has to happen in its own time. I can't allow someone else to dictate a timeline for me. Otherwise, I'm forcing it, trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.
Reviews are what they are. And primarily what they are is for the readers. If a writer takes a review--good or bad--too strongly to heart, the story will suffer for it.
Lesson learned.
Recently, The Path of the Sword got a three star review. This may sound strange but, after back to back to back five star reviews, I was distraught. I really was. Why strange, you ask? What's the big deal, you wonder? After all, three stars isn't that bad. It's not like it was a one star. It's not like the reviewer said the book was complete trash and buying it was a waste of money and time. In fact, the reviewer said the writing was good, that I know how to paint a picture. His main beef was that he thought my book was too long, too wordy. So, not a bad review. Not a great review, but not bad.
I got to thinking about what the reviewer said. I started trying to think about how I would incorporate his suggestions into my writing. I wrote a few pages, and I kept asking myself if this fit the bill, if I was in fact writing more efficiently.
It was about this point that I began to realize that I was doubting myself. I was second-guessing every word that I wrote. I agonized over every one of my decisions. When I went back and re-read the last few days of work, I noticed a few of things:
- I was writing a lot less than usual. About two-thirds less.
- My writing was flimsy. It had no feel, no voice. It sounded more like a history textbook than a novel.
- It was no longer true to the story. This, to me, is probably the worst thing that could have happened.
I thought about that for a while and here is where I finally caught a glimpse of my big conclusion. I was no longer writing for myself; I was writing for someone else. I was, in a way, writing by committee. It showed. I was trying to write in a style that was not my own, and it showed. Those pages that I read back weren't even my writing.
What's the answer? Getting reviews is a fact of life for any writer. There will be good ones and there will be bad ones. The trick is to not allow them to dictate how I write.
I write in a particular style. In time, as I gain experience, I'm certain my writing will evolve. Perhaps I'll get better--I definitely hope so; I don't want to stagnate. I want to try new things. I want to see myself grow as a writer.
But that has to happen in its own time. I can't allow someone else to dictate a timeline for me. Otherwise, I'm forcing it, trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.
Reviews are what they are. And primarily what they are is for the readers. If a writer takes a review--good or bad--too strongly to heart, the story will suffer for it.
Lesson learned.
Thursday 2 June 2011
Family Life
Okay.
The kids are in bed.
Right.
My nasty case of bronchitis has now calmed itself to the occasional fit of coughing and I can actually smell things (food good; dirty diapers baaaad). My lovely Cori is quietly watching news.
Awesome.
I have time now, right now, to either write a little or maybe promote myself a little on-line.
Perfect.
You know what? I'm bone tired. I'm seeing two of every letter I'm typing (I hope you're not!). My children have run me ragged. Who would have thought a baby with legs shorter than my forearm could run so fast? The only one in this house who seems able to keep up with the baby is my four year old daughter.
After we got home from work today, the normal rush was on: dinner, clean-up bath. Followed by a little play time for the kids. Each time they fell silent for more than three seconds, Cori and I exchanged a horrified look and mounted a frantic search for them to find out exactly what it was they were doing.
I'm exhausted.
Book two of Rites of Ascension is sitting there waiting for beta readers ("Honey?!?").
Book three is coming along fine; I'm a little behind schedule but not as far back as I thought I might be so really I'm ahead of schedule at being behind schedule...
I think I'm taking a night off.
Say good night, Gracie.
Good night, Gracie.
The kids are in bed.
Right.
My nasty case of bronchitis has now calmed itself to the occasional fit of coughing and I can actually smell things (food good; dirty diapers baaaad). My lovely Cori is quietly watching news.
Awesome.
I have time now, right now, to either write a little or maybe promote myself a little on-line.
Perfect.
You know what? I'm bone tired. I'm seeing two of every letter I'm typing (I hope you're not!). My children have run me ragged. Who would have thought a baby with legs shorter than my forearm could run so fast? The only one in this house who seems able to keep up with the baby is my four year old daughter.
After we got home from work today, the normal rush was on: dinner, clean-up bath. Followed by a little play time for the kids. Each time they fell silent for more than three seconds, Cori and I exchanged a horrified look and mounted a frantic search for them to find out exactly what it was they were doing.
I'm exhausted.
Book two of Rites of Ascension is sitting there waiting for beta readers ("Honey?!?").
Book three is coming along fine; I'm a little behind schedule but not as far back as I thought I might be so really I'm ahead of schedule at being behind schedule...
I think I'm taking a night off.
Say good night, Gracie.
Good night, Gracie.
Monday 23 May 2011
Back From the Land of the Dead...
...Sort of.
My wife holds a job in an office building which can be called, to put it as nicely as possible, a 90 000 square foot petrie dish. My children go to a babysitter everyday where they interact with a bunch of smaller, cuter, more boogery petrie dishes, two of whom have paramedics for parents. I have a day job where I interact with the general public and take their money...which are paper petrie dishes.
This is not a good formula.
Now comes the clincher:
I, apparently, am the polar opposite of Typhoid Mary. I'm not the starting point for illness. I'm the end point. For (and I think I'm exaggerating only a little here) all of them.
I've been in no shape to sit at my computer and socialize with everyone. Frankly, I've been in no shape to sit up at all. The only thing I've been useful for this past week has been to finally discover exactly how many crumpled tissues can fit in a wire trash can. I'm sure you're all ecstatic to know that question has finally, finally, been answered. The paper outlining my findings in the great Tissues in a Trash Can experiment will publish in Scientific American sometime next...well...never.
Anyway, I'm starting to feel better. The verdict isn't in but my arms don't feel ready to pop out of their sockets at any given moment so I'm going to go ahead and stay positive.
Now I can get back to all the fun--the blogging, Kindleboards.com, Stumbling (the worth of which should never be underestimated).
And,of course, I can get back to writing. I've been too busy counting tissues to write and that's terrible! I've got three novels and about six short stories I want to get to and I've spent the past week lazing about doing nothing more important than trying to figure out how hard a person has to cough to eject a lung!
Happy days everyone! I don't think I'm going to die anymore!
My wife holds a job in an office building which can be called, to put it as nicely as possible, a 90 000 square foot petrie dish. My children go to a babysitter everyday where they interact with a bunch of smaller, cuter, more boogery petrie dishes, two of whom have paramedics for parents. I have a day job where I interact with the general public and take their money...which are paper petrie dishes.
This is not a good formula.
Now comes the clincher:
I, apparently, am the polar opposite of Typhoid Mary. I'm not the starting point for illness. I'm the end point. For (and I think I'm exaggerating only a little here) all of them.
I've been in no shape to sit at my computer and socialize with everyone. Frankly, I've been in no shape to sit up at all. The only thing I've been useful for this past week has been to finally discover exactly how many crumpled tissues can fit in a wire trash can. I'm sure you're all ecstatic to know that question has finally, finally, been answered. The paper outlining my findings in the great Tissues in a Trash Can experiment will publish in Scientific American sometime next...well...never.
Anyway, I'm starting to feel better. The verdict isn't in but my arms don't feel ready to pop out of their sockets at any given moment so I'm going to go ahead and stay positive.
Now I can get back to all the fun--the blogging, Kindleboards.com, Stumbling (the worth of which should never be underestimated).
And,of course, I can get back to writing. I've been too busy counting tissues to write and that's terrible! I've got three novels and about six short stories I want to get to and I've spent the past week lazing about doing nothing more important than trying to figure out how hard a person has to cough to eject a lung!
Happy days everyone! I don't think I'm going to die anymore!
Friday 13 May 2011
An Interview for The Path of the Sword!
I had posted this yesterday but apparently Blogspot was in the process of undergoing some maintenance; that post seems to have disappeared into internet purgatory. So, I'll post it again.
I had the distinct pleasure and honour of being interviewed by David Cleinman about The Path of the Sword.
Read about it here!
Thank you to David for this opportunity.
I had the distinct pleasure and honour of being interviewed by David Cleinman about The Path of the Sword.
Read about it here!
Thank you to David for this opportunity.
Sunday 8 May 2011
Great Advice for Indie Writers
I was wandering around the blogs I follow and I ran into an article that really struck a nerve.
As an Indie publisher my biggest headache has been marketing. Without the marketing engines provided by agents and publishers, getting the word out and getting my name seen has been difficult. That's why, when I happened across an article on Shea MacLeod's blog, I was riveted. Great advice for all of us aspiring bestsellers!
See it here at Shea MacLeod's blog.
As an Indie publisher my biggest headache has been marketing. Without the marketing engines provided by agents and publishers, getting the word out and getting my name seen has been difficult. That's why, when I happened across an article on Shea MacLeod's blog, I was riveted. Great advice for all of us aspiring bestsellers!
See it here at Shea MacLeod's blog.
Saturday 7 May 2011
Another short story!
The Adventures of Jaq de Kailleur: The Amulet of the Sun.
Ok. So. I had a new idea for a whole new character and he intrigued me. I have begun to explore his story here. His name is Jaq and he seems to be, on the surface at least, something of a mercenary. But only time will tell.
I think I'm going to explore his story for some time because he seems to be an interesting fellow.
Ok. So. I had a new idea for a whole new character and he intrigued me. I have begun to explore his story here. His name is Jaq and he seems to be, on the surface at least, something of a mercenary. But only time will tell.
I think I'm going to explore his story for some time because he seems to be an interesting fellow.
Sunday 1 May 2011
Frustrations
So I've spent the last week agonizing over my cover. I did what I could but I'm most definitely not a graphic artist; I'm a writer. I've had a particular idea of what should be on cover almost from the day I started the first draft but...
To commission an artist to do custom work isn't cheap. I mean really, it isn't cheap. For someone like me, just starting out, trying to make it work, well, it is not cheap.
I never really liked my cover and so, over the last few days, I've laboured at it, and I finally settled on something that, though still nowhere near what I envisioned, was better than my first attempt. And of course the very next day, I had a better idea.
But, though my subsequent efforts (each one taking me a day and more to accomplish) were better, I still wasn't satisfied.
I've since become a member at a great site, Kindle Boards. Great site. Awesome. Fantastic. It's chock full of information. It's populated by readers, writers and, wouldn't you know it, cover artists.
I posted my frustrations over my utter lack of artistic talent (I hope my writing is better than my drawing!). Almost immediately I received a whole bunch of useful information. What's the punchline? I received a private message from one of the members. She told me that my post got her creative juices flowing and she thought she might be able to help me.
Well, not only did she help me, she created my new book cover! Take a look:
To commission an artist to do custom work isn't cheap. I mean really, it isn't cheap. For someone like me, just starting out, trying to make it work, well, it is not cheap.
I never really liked my cover and so, over the last few days, I've laboured at it, and I finally settled on something that, though still nowhere near what I envisioned, was better than my first attempt. And of course the very next day, I had a better idea.
But, though my subsequent efforts (each one taking me a day and more to accomplish) were better, I still wasn't satisfied.
I've since become a member at a great site, Kindle Boards. Great site. Awesome. Fantastic. It's chock full of information. It's populated by readers, writers and, wouldn't you know it, cover artists.
I posted my frustrations over my utter lack of artistic talent (I hope my writing is better than my drawing!). Almost immediately I received a whole bunch of useful information. What's the punchline? I received a private message from one of the members. She told me that my post got her creative juices flowing and she thought she might be able to help me.
Well, not only did she help me, she created my new book cover! Take a look:
Tell me that's not awesome! I dare you! Thank you so much to Kathleen Valentine who, out of sheer kindness (or maybe pity after she saw my terrible attempt at cover art) decided to help me!
If you happen to be a writer yourself and you like this, then check out Valentine Design.
Sunday 17 April 2011
First Review of The Path of the Sword
Am I ever excited! I checked my stats at Amazon and whaddaya know? I got my first review! Someone liked it too: five stars!
Yes that makes my day. I hope the rest of my readers like it so much.
Aside from that, I'm busy revising Book 2, The Blood of War. Should be done that within the next couple of weeks, then its off to my proof-readers. And while it's there, I have another short story that 's going to go up.
And then it's Book 3.
I don't think I'm going to sleep for a year!
Yes that makes my day. I hope the rest of my readers like it so much.
Aside from that, I'm busy revising Book 2, The Blood of War. Should be done that within the next couple of weeks, then its off to my proof-readers. And while it's there, I have another short story that 's going to go up.
And then it's Book 3.
I don't think I'm going to sleep for a year!
Tuesday 12 April 2011
New Short Story!
Fate or Fortune?
Two things:
1) Ok. So, here's a question that's been rattling around in my head for a while--ever since I started writing The Path of the Sword, actually. I've been wondering how Kurin and Mikal became such close friends. They're such disparate individuals, after all.
I decided to take that story right back to the beginning and explore how they met way back when.
For those of you who have read The Path of the Sword, this may answer a few questions about Mikal's reticent nature. For those of you who haven't, well you don't have to--though by all means check out my bibliography for the link to get your hands on it, or click here! It's a fairly self-contained short story (though it makes more sense to call it a pre-prologue to The Path of the Sword).
Anyway, dear Cori has told me that it's rather dark (which is kind of what I was going for so...MISSION ACCOMPLISHED) so be prepared for that.
Check it out here or click the Tidbits tab above.
2) Yeah, by the way, I added a Tidbits tab where I'll post odds and ends, snippets and short stories. I'll try to add something new fairly often but, well as per my previous posts, I don't always have a lot of time.
Two things:
1) Ok. So, here's a question that's been rattling around in my head for a while--ever since I started writing The Path of the Sword, actually. I've been wondering how Kurin and Mikal became such close friends. They're such disparate individuals, after all.
I decided to take that story right back to the beginning and explore how they met way back when.
For those of you who have read The Path of the Sword, this may answer a few questions about Mikal's reticent nature. For those of you who haven't, well you don't have to--though by all means check out my bibliography for the link to get your hands on it, or click here! It's a fairly self-contained short story (though it makes more sense to call it a pre-prologue to The Path of the Sword).
Anyway, dear Cori has told me that it's rather dark (which is kind of what I was going for so...MISSION ACCOMPLISHED) so be prepared for that.
Check it out here or click the Tidbits tab above.
2) Yeah, by the way, I added a Tidbits tab where I'll post odds and ends, snippets and short stories. I'll try to add something new fairly often but, well as per my previous posts, I don't always have a lot of time.
Friday 8 April 2011
Never enough hours in the day!
So, I've been on vacation all week. I figured I could take the time to write the short story that's been tumbling around in my head. I've been wondering, ever since I started Rites of Ascension, how Kurin and Mikal met for the first time; I've been wanting to explore that and see what happens.
Unfortunately, it was not to be. You see, my lovely Cori was home this week and her idea of a vacation is vastly at odds with mine. But I love her dearly, so instead of my short story, I joined her in cleaning house.
It is nothing short of unbelievable how much clutter can amass over time. Three straight days and we still have a ways to go.
That being said, my vacation is ending, so next week when I get back to work, I'll be able to rest.
Then, I can get started on the story of Kurin and Mikal. And then I'll revise Blood of War, book 2 of Rites of Ascension.
And then, we'll see.
Happy weekend!
Unfortunately, it was not to be. You see, my lovely Cori was home this week and her idea of a vacation is vastly at odds with mine. But I love her dearly, so instead of my short story, I joined her in cleaning house.
It is nothing short of unbelievable how much clutter can amass over time. Three straight days and we still have a ways to go.
That being said, my vacation is ending, so next week when I get back to work, I'll be able to rest.
Then, I can get started on the story of Kurin and Mikal. And then I'll revise Blood of War, book 2 of Rites of Ascension.
And then, we'll see.
Happy weekend!
Wednesday 6 April 2011
The Path of the Sword
Here I go!
After two years of constant query letters and two years of "Thanks, but no thanks" I've decided to go ahead and publish The Path of the Sword myself. See it here.
Part 1 of a trilogy, The Rites of Ascension, The Path of the Sword is a story of truth and self discovery set in a world where there's more than meets the eye.
Give it a try. I think you'll enjoy it.
I've got a lot on my plate at the moment: Part 2 of Rites of Ascension: Blood of War is currently awaiting a second draft revision. Part 3 is still an idea. Not to mention The Story of Jaq the Killer (just a working title). I can't seem to write fast enough!
Still, with all this (and being a husband and father of two beautiful children) I hope to have a short story or two up soon.
After two years of constant query letters and two years of "Thanks, but no thanks" I've decided to go ahead and publish The Path of the Sword myself. See it here.
Part 1 of a trilogy, The Rites of Ascension, The Path of the Sword is a story of truth and self discovery set in a world where there's more than meets the eye.
Give it a try. I think you'll enjoy it.
I've got a lot on my plate at the moment: Part 2 of Rites of Ascension: Blood of War is currently awaiting a second draft revision. Part 3 is still an idea. Not to mention The Story of Jaq the Killer (just a working title). I can't seem to write fast enough!
Still, with all this (and being a husband and father of two beautiful children) I hope to have a short story or two up soon.
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