Fantasy story set in French Colonial Era

26 DEC 2018

As this year comes to a close, I find myself working on a new short story. The impetus came from an anthology call, titled Coffins & Dragons. It got me to thinking about all sorts of possibilities. And then when it came time to set the story somewhere, I decided to set it in an alternative French Colonial setting. Right here in Louisiana! Below is what I have so far. I'm sure it will change so much as to be unrecognizable by the time it gets printed. Enjoy:

Storms 

“What are we to do, Thomas? Father was due back two months ago and the storms are coming.”

“We’ll think of something.” A southern wind blew through the remains of Thomas’ hair.

“How will we defend the colony? We cannot head south. The Robber is there…”

“I’ll think of something…”

Thomas has a problem. Well, two problems really. A dragon who raids from the northwest and vampires to the south. His father had not returned from a trip to get aid for the colony. The storms were forming to the west, and that meant the dragon would soon be coming to hunt. What was he to do? Would this be the end of the colony in Louisiane?

The dragon attacks were nothing new. They had been going on since the very founding of the colony. Some years the dragon did not come, but when he did it was always on the leading edge of the warm summer storms. Last two years had been dragon-free. The dragon had never been absent three years in a row. He would be coming soon with his fiery breath and hunger for livestock. No doubt about that. The colonists used to head downriver and hide in the swampy bayous under the huge cypress trees, but that was not an option anymore because the vampires in the south were growing in strength and numbers.

The greatest threat from the south is known throughout the colony as the Robber of Life, though his real title is René Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle, late of the first rulers of Louisiane. When he was alive, René was the first explorer of the region, coming down from the north to claim the land for King Louis. He settled at a bend in the mighty Colbert River, now called the Mississippi. For the next several decades his people, the French, ruled the newly-founded Louisiane.

Under French rule, the colony suffered through many trials and tribulations: devastating diseases like Yellow Fever, floods, neglect from their European-based rulers, attacks from the natives, and the occasional raids from the dragon that came from the West with the summer storms. Rene died one year while trying to return to the colony with supplies.

After his death, the colony was taken over by the French brothers Iberville and Bienville. The colony tried to hang on through all the problems, but one self-inflicted issue the early pioneers could not abide was the loss of the few young ladies of the colony. There weren’t many Frenchwomen to begin with, and the ones that were there were not the greatest stock, being women of ill repute forced to come to the colonies. The women started to disappear in greater numbers than expected. The colony might not survive their loss.

The only bright spot during this time was the French brothers were able to stave off the dragon’s attacks. This made the colonists happy and they worked hard to keep the colony alive. But then the source of the brothers’ abilities came out: they were using the blood of the missing women to protect the colony. This was magic of the New World.

The people rose up and overthrew their bloodthirsty rulers.

The Brothers Bienville and Iberville had mastered magical secrets of the new continent and they were able to fly forth from the castle and continue their evil experiments from the comfort of the swamps south of the colony, further down the Mighty Mississippi.

There they strengthened their alliance with the bloodthirsty swamp natives, the cannibalistic Atakapa, and in return their powers were increased further and they were granted the secrets of the re-risen. Their first true test of their new power was the raising of the first explorer, René Robert Cavelier, and his assistant Henri de Tonti, the Iron Hand. Their return marked an increase in French power again in the region. But the colonists were afraid and stayed away from the southern swamps.

From that moment on, the colony was truly on its own. The French King across the sea did not want to waste any more money or people on a rebellious colony with so many problems, especially one where the dead came back to life.

Thomas’ people [Spanish?] took over the colony.

The colony’s largest problem was now they had no defense against the storm dragon. How would they survive his next visit?

When the winds shift and come from the south, the people worry about the vampires coming from the south instead. Basically, the people of Louisiane feared winds from any direction. And when the winds blew from both directions, well, that’s when the worst storms blew and all colonists stayed inside and took shelter from the storms powerful enough to blow houses down.

Picture for today is an old old map of the Gulf coast...

Vegas!

27 NOV 2018

Took a trip to Las Vegas recently, saw families and friends. Grand Canyon and some other great sights too. No story ideas, though I did get in some good people watching which will make it into character development in some future stories. 

Below are some pictures. Some from the hotel, some from the Helicopter trip to the Grand Canyon, and some from the Vegas Strip itself. I love abstract stuff so my favorite so far is the colorful tile picture. 

 

 

 Elvis has definitely seen better days!
 Hippocampus to finish it out.

Master Class & Old Classics

19 NOV 2018

One of my stories is featured over at Stephanie Ayers' Master Class! 

The Legacy, my short tale of murder among witches, is being used for the writing prompt this week. "She killed me first."

She killed me first? How does that phrase work? Well, with witches you don't always know when they're dead for sure. Magic works in mysterious ways. 

Here's the link to the prompt: Master Class: She Killed Me First

See what you can come up with! Good luck. Oh, I guess I should include the link to my short story: 

The Legacy

Go buy it and see what I did with "She killed me first." 

In other news, the Internet Archive has the Classics Illustrated comic books available to read online! The Archive is a wonderful place on the internet, lots to discover over there. If you've never dropped by there, go check it out. One of their latest additions are the Classics Illustrated comic books. I probably read only a few when I was young, but there are some good tales there in a format for struggling readers. The Illiad is there, Beowulf, and others as well that are not so 'classic'. 

Here's the link: Classics Illustrated comic books

And the picture for today is the Cover for Classics Illustrated version of the Arabian Nights

Harriet Jacobs - Excerpts from “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl”

18 NOV 2018

I was working on some assignments from school and thought I'd share one piece, an excerpt from Harriet Jacobs
"Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl"

"Women are considered of no value unless they continually increase their owner's stock. They are put on a par with animals. This same master shot a woman through the head, who had run away and been brought back to him. No one called him to account for it. If a slave resisted being whipped, the bloodhounds were unpacked, and set upon him, to tear his flesh from his bones. The master who did these things was highly educated, and styled a perfect gentleman. He also boasted the name and standing of a Christian, though Satan never had a truer follower. . . ."

That last line: He also boasted the name and standing of a Christian, though Satan never had a truer follower." 

Very strong writing. What way to describe someone. It also really makes you wonder why we let slavery go on for so long. 

In other news, doing some edits and some original stuff as well. Woke up this morning with a story titled, "Urine, Texas" running through my head which, if you've ever head a Texan accent, could have a totally different meaning. 

Picture for today: 

Nothing to do with slavery, and everything to do with my love for fantasy and science fiction. Frank Frazetta's work is amazing. This is one he did for a Tarzan story. Love the raw feeling and emotion.

Happy Veteran's Day!

11 NOV 2018

Happy Veteran's Day to all the vets out there. I've heard from some old mates of mine today, which is always nice. Want to send a special shoutout to any other disabled veterans out there. Make sure you use your state-based benefits that you get for any service-related disabilities. 

In writing news, writing is going okay, still waiting for some potential good news to blossom into actual good news. Not one to dawdle, I've been working on some older pieces and some background pieces in the meantime. One piece in particular, about two different mercenary groups, grew quite a bit, ideas blossomed into details. One group utilizes lightning in their fighting techniques and the other group uses fire and flames. I haven't used them in any writings yet, but it was good to work out their intricacies, so I'm not pantsing when I do eventually use them as adversaries or heroes. In honor of Veteran's Day, I detailed what may have happen to older mercenaries of these two groups.

Pictures for today: Some love for the US Navy, my branch. 24 years I served. Would still be serving if I could. Best and worst times of my life. Wouldn't trade it for the world.

Tale of the Second Sun

05 November 2018

This is in response to a prompt over at Stephanie Ayers' Master Class. If you're looking for something to get you going writing-wise, check back with her once a week for something new.

This is a rewrite of a terrible piece I did a long time ago. It's still terrible, but it has improved over the original. Thanks Stephanie for giving me the inspiration to do some more work on this piece. It's supposed to be written in the vein of a fable. 

The Tale of the Second Sun

A chill breeze blew from the ocean as the chief spoke loud and true.

“Gather round the bonfires. Warriors and hunters, drag the boats high upon the shore, for there will be no voyages tonight and they must survive the highest tide. Tonight is the longest night of the year. It is time for all to hear of the darkest time in our history. As the weak and weary Sun dives into the western waters, each island will light the bonfires and lift voices to the heavens to remind the divine Brothers of how they saved the world from Darkness. If we do not, the Sun may never return. This is a high secret and a sacred duty of our people.”

Every islander was there to hear the tale and partake in the ritual, from the newborn babes to the elders waiting for sweet death to take them.

The high priest spoke.

“The Brothers Jamahi and Jaustus are known by all. But back in the Early Times they were known by a different name. They were called the Sons of the Sun, because their father, Houri the Sun, was in charge of making the days. During this time the Brothers had a mutual friend named Bachshi. He was the peacemaker between the brothers.

“One day the brothers were fighting, as usual, and Bachshi was trying to intercede, as usual.

“The brothers were fighting over who owned the moons. You see, in those days, there were two moons in the sky. One was a warm yellow and one was a luminous silvery white. And the two moons chased each other across the night sky, just as the brothers chased each other over the waters and the earth.

“It was set long ago by their father that the yellow moon was Jaustus’s and the white one was Jamahi’s. The brothers fought about many things, but as far as the moons went, everything was well.

“But then their father passed away, and Great Houri the Sun, who was a glorious and rich green then, went away to the Dry Lands.

“The world grew cold as the brothers mourned the death of their father, each in their own way. Jaustus cried angrily and Jahami grew silent and distant. They tried to mourn for the traditional forty days and forty nights but of course there were no more days and this made them mourn all the more.

“The people of the world appeared before the brothers. 'One of you must take your Father’s place in the sky, or many things in the world would die and Darkness will rule. There must be balance,' the people said."

“There was no question of which brother would take their father’s place. Jahami was the eldest. But he was cold and aloof, nothing like their beloved father. Jaustus, on the other hand, was full of rage, and he took his anger out on his elder brother. Jaustus accused Jahami of not missing their father. Jaustus had always been closer to their father than Jahami, who often took long trips away from home. And thus the brothers fought. Neither one was in a compromising mood. Jahami, as the eldest son, asserted his right to replace their father. Jaustus demanded that he was the better successor and set about to prove it by strength of arms and emotion. Their battle raged fierce and bloody.

“Bachshi tried to intervene. He showed them that while they fought, everything around them was dying. But that did not deter the brothers from fighting. Bachshi told Jahami that he should let Jaustus replace his father. Jaustus had a fiery heat in his heart, like their father. But the Jahami would not listen. He lost his composure and slew Bachshi in a rare show of anger. As Bachshi's lifeblood spilled onto the ground, the brothers stopped their fighting, adding their grief over losing their best friend with that of losing their father. Their lights dimmed and the world grew even darker.

“Many creatures died during that time of Greater Darkness. They are lost to us forever. For the sake of all living things and in memory of their father and Bachshi, the Brothers swore never to fight again. Jahami was still cold and distant, but he agreed. He gave up his position as eldest son and let his younger brother take their father’s place in the sky. So that the world would keep on growing, Jahami stayed in the night sky and let his brother become the Sun.

“So today the Sun is yellow and hot and there is one moon in the sky at night, cold and distant. Plants around the world are green, to honor the memory of Houri, the First Sun. Much time has passed since the great compromise was reached. The Brothers are forgetful sometimes and feel anger toward each other. When one is in the sky, the other is away. Seldom do they ever share the sky together. But they agreed long enough, thanks to Bachshi, to save the world.

“And this is the tale of the Second Sun, always told on the longest night of the year. It is also know as the Tale of the Second Son. And this is a high and mighty secret indeed.

“It is our sacred duty to remember and remind Jaustus to come back, to warm our days with his light. He is hot-tempered, but he wearies quickly. So we will tend the bonfires all night long, and pray that Jahami in the night sky sees that the yellow light is good for all. He must remind his brother not to tire, to honor the memory of their father and come back to us and keep the world from darkness.”

Picture for today: Sun and Moon chasing each other...

TSR's Multiverse, a Famous Explorer and a Sunflower

03 November 2018

I have some new news to report. I have branched into another side gig. I have officially joined the bullpen writing reviews over at the Multiverse, a blog by TSR Inc. Yeah, that TSR! I used to love all their games. They have some new products and a blog that covers all sorts of stuff. The review online now is about a comic book called the Rough Riders, featuring Teddy Roosevelt, Harry Houdini and others. 

Rough Riders review by Frank Montellano

Looking forward to earning some non-fiction chops writing reviews for all sorts of different stuff. I'm so glad to be a part of a company that I loved as a kid.

I love teaching, even my own children. My youngest had a social studies project to do and we collaborated on Rene-Robert Cavalier, Lord of La Salle. He's the Frenchman who sailed down the Mississippi River and 'discovered it' with his assistant Henry de Tonti (also know as 'Iron Hand '). Indians, soldiers and priests went with them too. Was very nice to share my passion for knowledge and help her on her project. Something all dads love to do! She is one smart cookie. Love her to bits. 

Picture for today: 
Not sure if I shared this before on this blog or not. This a picture of a Sunflower plant that my wife grew in the back yard. I love the curls and abstract nature of the photo. 

Dia De Los Muertos and Vague-booking

02 NOV 2018

It's today! Dia de los Muertos! I love this part of my culture. Ofrendas, remembering the dead. All of it. It's great. 

National Geographic has a great article about the Day of the Dead:
Top Ten Things to Know about The Day of Dead. Gives you all the basics. 

I try and spend a few moments to remember my Dada (not a misspelling. I called my grandparents on my father's side Nana and Dada) and other relatives on my Dad's side, including my Uncle Joey. On my mother's side this year I remember my grandmother. What's odd though is I usually focus on male family members, not so much the female members.  

In other news, I don't like to vague-book, but I am really excited about an upcoming partnership opportunity. I hope it turns into something wonderful. Thanks mom! She's the one who made the initial connection. That's all the news for now, but once something solid happens I'll be sure to share the news! 



Picture for today is Catrina, the original calavera that started it all, part of the Classic Skeleton Art of José Guadalupe Posada.

Happy Halloween Eve!

30 OCT 2018

Hello all! Bit of good news! My recently released short story, The Legacy, is currently sitting at #170 in Kindle Store > Kindle Short Reads > 45 minutes (22-32 pages) > Science Fiction & Fantasy
Go buy it and help me break into the top 100! It's just .99 cents.

The Legacy on Amazon


In other news, I really like the word Gasconade. It means extravagant Boasting. Good word that, I'll have to see about putting it in somewhere.

I recently found a story bit I wrote long ago. It's very rough and unpolished, definitely needs a lot of work, but it could become something in the future. Here it is in all its unvarnished glory:



***

The Rescue

As the rosy hues of dusk approached, Dunham the wagoner spied a small body up ahead at an approaching crossroad. Anyone out here was obviously in need of rescue, there being nothing around for miles in either direction. Dunham clucked his tongue loudly and drew softly up on the reins.

There, at the intersection of two small trails, was a young man.

“Good eve to you,” the wagoner said, as he drew his horse up alongside the young man. The stranger, for surely he was one, was dressed rather oddly for these parts. A little too warmly. One never knew what sort of person you’d meet on the road, but this lad didn’t seem to be a danger to anyone but himself. “Need some help?”

A face without whiskers looked up from the side of the road with a smile. “Why do you think I need help?”

Dunham took off his hat and scratched his balding head. He was a nice fellow, but didn’t take kindly to people complaining about help being offered. Kids these days, he thought. No manners. “You wanting some help or not?”

The stranger looked to the left and right, before him and behind him. “Yes, I would, thank you. I’m Fortune.”

“Nice to meet you. Name’s Dunham. Put your pack back there and climb on up here with me.” He motioned to the wagon. The stranger threw his pack in with the hay and other goods for sale, and accepted Dunham’s hand as he climbed up and sat next to him. Fortune’s hand was very soft against Dunham’s.

Boy’s never worked a day in his life, Dunham thought, as he lit a lantern and hung it behind their heads.

Sitting there at the crossroads, the wagoner turned to his new passenger. “Now where might you be heading so late in the day?”

“I know not, kind sir. Just that what I’m looking for is nearby. I’m hoping you might know.”

Odd one, the wagoner though, a very odd one.

“Well, these crossroads here lead to no place close. To the left is a low plain that eventually leads to a small, salty lake.”

At this, Fortune shook his head.

“To the right the trail leads up into some low hills. Nothing up there.”

Again, Fortune shook his head.

“Behind me is nothing for a day’s drive but more trail. Ahead, well, seeing as I’m going on ahead you might as well ride along and see what there is.”

At this, his passenger seemed satisfied. “Yes, let us ride ahead. It’s just my luck to run into you!”

Dunham clucked once and motioned with the reins for the horse to get going over the next low hill.

They rode for a few moments, listening to the sounds of the evening. “I’m looking for a friend,” Fortune said, looking around as they crested the hill. “He is supposed to be, uh, wandering around here somewhere.”

Dunham looked around at the deepening darkness. “’Round here? Told you already, boy. There’s nothing ‘round here for miles.”

“Is there a structure nearby?”

“A what?”

“A building. With walls and doors.” Fortune struggled with finding the right words. “A, uh, castle?”

“Nope, like I said, nothing around for miles. There’s Tun’s Tavern about a day’s journey behind me.”

“Has it been there for a while?”

Dunham shook his head at the question. Has the tavern been there for a while? What an odd question. “Ya, been there for nigh on half a century or so. It’s run by the grandson now.”

Fortune shook his head. “That’s not him then. Anything up ahead?”

“Wait. You mean he wouldn’t be there at Tun’s Tavern?”
“I mean that’s not him. He’d be pretty new here.”

Dunham was confused, but let it pass. There were many things that confused him, and this stranger and his talk was just another oddness that he might never understand.

They crested the next hill and both men saw a castle off to the left, silhouetted against the last of the sun’s fading light.

Fortune pointed excitedly. “Over there! That might be him!”

Dunham had had enough. He knew of no castle in the area. The closest castle was five day’s journey from here, and abandoned at that. Even from here he could see that there was some light coming from the castle. “I’ll have you off right here, stranger. I’ll have no truck with such odd happenings.” He thought of the tales he was told as a kid, of strange doing at dusk, especially at crossroads. He left the stranger and his bag right there, and put his horse into a fast motion with a loud “Yaw!” and a crack of the whip.

The stranger stood there, surrounded by the dust stirred up by the departing wagon. Although he was rather rudely dropped off, Fortune still wished the wagoner luck, which in this case manifested as a fortuitous wedding celebration in the next town over. Dunham was able to sell all the goods that he had left for a huge profit.

The sun’s light was dying quickly as Fortune started straight away for the castle in the distance.

*****

Night was well along when Fortune finally reached the castle. Lights shone in a few of the windows, and the large, front door was open.

“Hey Eddy!” he shouted as he walked in the entrance. “This is you, right?”

The entrance opened up to a massive hall. At his feet was a large marble inlay, with the words ‘Phortress Peripatetic’ inset with green striped stonework.

“Eddy! I think you’re supposed to use the letter ‘F’ for fortress!”

“Eddy?” Fortune looked around. “I’ve come to bring you back. We’ve missed you! How am I supposed to talk with you like this?”

There was a stranger at the dinner table. Something so strange as to be almost inconceivable.

***
FYI: Eddy is short for Edifice. :)



Another story idea floating around in my head:

The Romany are immune to curses. Non one can curse them. They've been cursed enough already. They have to travel constantly, being welcome in no one country. They have, though, made do with the terms of the curse as best they can.

Picture for today: something macabre for Halloween...

Helping Other Authors

21 OCT 2018

Happy Sunday all! I haven't written much of my own stories lately. Been helping out fellow authors with their tales. While I am not a professional editor, nor will I ever be one, I do know enough to be a second set of ears and eyes for others. Heck, I taught the English for many years, lol. And I even speaka da English too! 

I'm currently working with a few other authors on editing their works. I know I really appreciate it when others do that for me, so yeah, I don't mind helping others out occasionally. 

I have recently done some non-fiction work too, writing a couple of reviews (comic book and a vlog post) for the TSR's website Multiverse. I used to love love love TSR's products when I was a kid, so a little bit of thrill to be creating some small pieces for them. If you don't know what TSR does, head on over there and find out! 

Pictures for today, in honor of Halloween coming up: 

The Legacy, and Pixie Forest Publishing

The Legacy: 

Author Jensen Reed from Pixie Forest Publishing was kind enough to give my story some space over on her blog. You can find the link here: The Legacy

In honor of her giving some space to my little group of witches and their odd family, I'd thought I'd share another short snippet from the story: 

He dove again, and reappeared shortly thereafter. Clawing his way out, he rolled onto the ice and breathed heaving breaths, clutching for his clothes. Vapor steamed up from his body. The water in his hair and beard was already turning to ice.

“I c-c-c-can’t see!” He reached out again.

Destra tilted her head to one side and glanced at Beth, who shook her head slightly. Destra whacked Reynard in the thigh with her staff. "Get back in there you lazy lout! Our sister is still alive!"

Go get it. I've got other stories out there too, but this one is the baby in the spotlight right now. And when you're done with The Legacy and my other stories, go check out some of the fine work that Pixie Forest Publishing is doing. They are good people and I hope to work with them in the future.


Picture for today: Something old for my grandfather, who volunteered for airborne way back in the day when it was first starting up...Love you Grandpa. We're fools together, though I joined the Navy and not the Army. Proud to have served and retired.

New Release: The Legacy

09 OCT 2018

It's finally here! My latest short story, The Legacy, is available over at Amazon. My wife Cheryl did an amazing cover. I love it! Totally fits the feel of the piece. Pictures for today are the cover, a sneak peek inside the story and a picture of me to celebrate!

Here is the link and the blurb: The Legacy -It's only 99 cents!

“Hurry Reynard! It's poor Anna. She's fallen into the lake!"

On a frightening winter evening, three witches chase after their eldest sister Anna. Reynard the Hunter dives into the frigid waters in a vain attempt to rescue her, but the hole ices over. Anna and her would-be rescuer are gone.

Family members, including Anna’s lost son August, return home for the wake, only to find a power struggle rages among the sisters, both living and ... dead? Power in this family of witches and warlocks is handed down, but if neither Beth nor August received Anna’s legacy, where did it go? Is the old witch truly dead or did she have some witchcrafty tricks up her sleeves?
******

Besides that, there is all sorts of stuff going on in this story. Magic aplenty of course, but a lot of family bonding too, most of it good. Here is a screenshot of the story as I was finishing it off: 

Nice good stuff in there. This was originally released as part of a winter anthology, Back then it was only around 6,000 words. Lots of new added material all throughout the story. 

And here's a picture of me to celebrate!

What are you doing right now? Do you have a buck? Go get my new story! Thank you in advance. :)

Sales!

11 SEP 2018

I took a look today at Amazon's Author Central and found out three anthologies with my stories in them sold recently! The three are Den of Thieves (proceeds go to a charity), Incarceration, and Protectors of the Veil (which I get no money for). It's always nice to see sales. I truly do appreciate the anthologies and Carol Hightshoe in particular. Some day I may make enough money from sales to stop my regular day job. But it probably won't be until I retire.

Still working on my next release, that short story about witches in winter. 

Was thinking recently about new story ideas. One that stuck was "Birds of Stone." Another writer suggested that I was thinking of gargoyles, but my thoughts are of something smaller. Not artist/author Jean 'Moebius' Giraud's Arzach's flying stone bird either. Something smaller. Like a rock pigeon maybe. I don't know. It's very early in the thought process. If you've never seen (can't really say 'read' because there are no words) Arzach, you owe it to yourself to do so. Great storytelling with no text. 

Photo for today: Arzach

Pets: Guest Blog by David Owens

08 SEP 2018

Here is Dave once again, this time with some guiding words on pets in writing.

An image of my Boston Terrier Mayla. She insists I cover her each time she goes to her doggie bed in my office. 

Why an image of my dog you ask? First, examine television commercials. A widely accepted fact among marketers and advertisers is animals and children, when shown in a commercial, tend to hold viewers' attention. "Yo Quiero Taco Bell" anyone? The GEICO gecko as well, though to be honest he was brought into being during a SAG strike when no humans could be used in commercials. 

Second, in writing, the use of animals in a story may very well have the same effect upon a reader. IMHO the animal, especially dogs and cats, may be used in much the same manner as any other literary device. They can be used to foreshadow, further the plot or any number of things. "The Hound of the Baskervilles" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is one example.

Third, I don't think the use of animals, pets, etc., detracts from story. In many literary works animals became integral to the story even though they were used only as a "prop," for a stage play. Examples: Hemingway's prolific use of animals in his stories - he used all kinds of animals (The Bull in "The Undefeated, The water buffalo in "The Short Happy Life Life of Francis McComber," and insects in "Big Two-Hearted River." Steinbeck's "Travels With Charlie" is a wonderful example. [Frank here: I would like to add Fortinbras, the dog in Madeleine L'Engle's Time Quintet, is an excellent example of pet use in fantasy]

I do not mention "creatures" created for Fantasy works, because their roles are somewhat different than the animals used in the aforementioned stories and novels. In Fantasy, the creatures are specifically designed or "created" for a specific role, whereas the point of my short article is to invoke the use of animals as a different kind of device.

~David Owens



Well, I wholeheartedly agree with Dave on this issue. Pets are wonderful in stories, and they also may appear as a request for a themed anthology. One precaution, don't use them as filler. Ensure that whatever animal you write about has a porpoise, I mean purpose! 

The Legacy Covers

01 SEP 2018

My wonderful wife made some covers for me. These are for the short winter story, The Legacy, which was part of a seasonal anthology. I have a favorite cover, but you'll find out which one once I publish the story as a standalone. Winter is a big part of the story, the ring is also an important part of the story. The short description for the story is as follows: 

A family of witches, a murder, and the return of the prodigal son

 

 

The Power of Words

24 AUG 2018

When a teacher says the word "Test", students clench up and get anxious. Even the best students fall prey to this. Educators have tried to get around 'test anxiety' in a few different ways, such as calling them exams, assessments, or analytical tools, but these semantic workarounds do not 'work'. Today in class though, something truly extraordinary happened. 

One thing I do as a teacher to allay student fears about approaching tests (shhh, don't say the T word!) is to warn the students several days in advance. I warn them a test is approaching, like a Hurricane spotted on the horizon. Look, yonder to the west, It's Hurricane Assessment! And then I make sure they know what will be tested and I remind them as the day approaches. I usually work through sample test problems too, going over the material multiple times in multiple ways.

So, back to today. Today is Friday, a day when tests are given in class. I hate to give tests on Monday. It literally takes an appearance by the Almighty Teaching Gods for me to schedule a Monday test. They must descend from on high and force my hand. But today was a Friday and thus fair game for testing.

I warned my students on Wednesday. "Hey, you're going to have an exam on Friday. This is what it will cover." I went over the material on the test on Wednesday, Thursday, and even discussed it with the parents that came on Back to School Night that Thursday night. This was to be a writing assessment, covering ancient cultures. Wait, that sounds too rough. Assignment. Yes, that's much better. Writing assignment sounds so much better than test, doesn't it? 

So today was the day. I got them started, even put a big timer on the board. Every single student got straight to work. It was magical. Here's the funny part. Halfway through the assessment, um, sorry, assignment, one of my students, out of the blue and in the middle of furiously working away on the assignment, says, "Hey, aren't we supposed to be taking a test today?" 

Her neighbor looked over at her like she had just grown a third eyeball in the middle of her forehead. 

The first student realized her misunderstanding a moment later and blushed a deep red as I stared at her in confusion. My expression translated as, "What do you think you've been doing for the last twenty minutes?!" 

She started laughing so hard she actually started crying. 

I tried not to laugh, my body shaking in mirth while I hid my face behind a piece of paper. The power of words indeed. I had taken the mighty anxiety-producing 'test' and turned it into an assignment that the students ate up as a chance to prove themselves, not a barrier standing in their way but a challenge to be triumphed over with hard work and determination. If I had called it a test I would have had students moaning and groaning like extras for The Walking Dead. By calling it a writing assignment, I had students cheerfully typing away for a straight 50 minutes without one complaint. My students had spent the period working away on a 'test' without so much as a frown. Nice!

The power of words...something to think about when writing...

Picture for today: 

Working on

12 AUG 2018

Traveling seems to be the theme for today. "So come along boys (and girls) and listen to my tale..."

I'm back at my main gig, so there's more traveling there as I drive to and from work. Had to fill up the old gas tank. That was more painful than usual. Hadn't filled up in a few months and the price of gas was up, though not as much as back in California from what I hear. 

Then as I surveyed work stuff I stumbled across a few things I did not know. Traveling fits in here as well for I was researching the Chisholm Trail. For those that don't know, listen to the song here by Woody Guthrie and get your cowboy on. One thing I learned was the word Buckaroo is supposed to be a corruption of the Spanish word Vaquero. It's interesting to see what comes from the pairing of two languages. The list below details some of the English/Spanish crossovers in and around Texas and Kansas. It's from educational material available here: 

Bandanna (Bandana) – cheap scarf printed with bright red dye used to protect the cowboy’s face from sun, wind, and dust. 

Bronco – an untrained horse; means “wild” in Spanish 

Buckaroo (Vaquero) – another name for cowboy 

Cinch (Cincha) – a wide strap used to hold the saddle on a horse 

Chaps (Chaparreras) – Leg coverings worn by cowboys to protect them from rough brush and keep them warm in cold weather 

Corral – fenced area for horses, cattle, and other animals; means “playpen” in Spanish 

Lariat (La Riata) – cowboy’s rope; also known as a lasso 

Ranch (Rancha) – a farm for horses, cattle, and other livestock 

Stampede (Estampida) – horses and cattle run after getting scared 

Stirrup (El Estribo) – a foot rest on the saddle 

Spur (La Espeula) – metal wheel worn on the back of the boot to get horses to run faster 

Outlaw – name for a criminal during the 1800s. Literally means someone outside the law, not just a criminal. 

Revolver – a pistol holding several shots in a revolving chamber; means “to spin” in Spanish 

Rodeo – a competition of cowboy skills; means “cattle market” in Spanish

In writing, I'm working on a piece about a pretty 'bright' guy exploring an unknown area, unknown at least to him, and the native gal who just happens along and tries to keep him from getting killed. Fair bit of traveling in the story so far, well, running and chasing actually, but they do cover some serious ground. The quotes up there are an inside joke, and if you've read the shared piece posted so far you'll get my meaning.

Lastly, at least for this Sunday morning, The National Book Festival is coming up September 1st. There is a wonderful poster done for this year by a great artist. And wouldn't you know it, but there is someone traveling on the poster! Now the only thing I need to make this day perfect is a picture of a cowboy in a hot air balloon! "Come a yi-yi-yippee come a yi-yi-yay..."


The picture for today is from the poster for the 2018 National Book Festival. An additional picture by the same artist is below. 

The poster above was created for the 2018 National Book Festival by illustrator Gaby D'Alessandro. She is a Dominican illustrator based in New York City. She studied Fine Art and Illustration at Altos de Chavón and was awarded a scholarship to Parsons School of Design, where she received a BFA in Illustration. Her clients include The American Museum of Natural History, The New York Times, NPR, Smithsonian Magazine, The National Audubon Society and The Botanical Garden of Padua. Her work has been recognized by American Illustration, Communication Arts, 3x3 Magazine and Latin American Ilustración.

National Book Festival(full poster can be found here)

This picture actually inspired me to start work on a picture of my youngest daughter, who loves the stars. It's really rough, but you get the idea. Can't wait to see what she does with her future.

Tension: Guest Blog by David Owens

04 August 2018

For this post I am turning over the reins to David Owens, an eagle-eyed editor, friend, and all-round good guy. Take it away, Dave...

Tension

When someone asks me, “what makes a good story?” I answer, “tension.”

Why is tension so important to story development? Tension is the “binder,” the element that glues the reader to the story. Tension is energy. No amount of excellent writing can overcome the lack of tension in a story.

What is tension? Tension can be many things. Perhaps a character worries about losing a loved one, or perhaps tension is the threat of a hidden mine on a battlefield. In another story the character might be forced to overcome insurmountable difficulties. Tension must exist consistently and continuously in a story.

Tension is the writer’s promise and the reader’s reward.

Tension in narrative and dialogue holds readers attention.  When a writer masterfully integrates tension into a story, the tension moves the narrative forward, but tension in dialogue is the trick most fiction writers use.  Compelling conflict is the solution. Readers love conflict, any kind of conflict, and may abandon a story the moment conflict vanishes (when it becomes a boring story). The level of conflict is unimportant, except in action scenes where conflict rages through the use of short language bursts in the narrative, and snappy dialogue. The writer’s job is to creatively integrate moments of tension throughout the work. Anything else comes across bland and unsatisfying.

Ask yourself the question, “Why do I read?” Well, why DO you read? Is it because the writer describes beautiful scenes, or is it because you search for an answer? Now ask yourself what is the question a story must answer. Now you’ve found it! Yes, tension must be the reader’s constant companion in a story. Tension grips readers and holds them until the end of the story. Readers search for an answer to the question: “What happens to the main character?”

Examine your favorite story. If the story contained sufficient tension, you finished reading and discovered you lost track of time. You became so immersed in the story time became unimportant. You found yourself on another world, in another time, in an exotic setting, but behind those settings, tension’s unrelenting power controlled you. Control tension by the use of active verbs, strong adjectives, and leave out the weak adverbs. Avoid common, and simple verbs. Show don’t Tell.

Examples:

John was running from the bad guy. ß passive verbs, telling
John ran from the bad guy.  ß weak verb, telling

John raced from the scene.  ß stronger verb, telling

Active/Showing: The villain’s footsteps thundered across the quiet parking lot. John glanced over his shoulder…

To further increase tension the writer may revise: John glances over his shoulder, smashes (strong verb) into a parked car, and then plunges (strong verb) onto the wet pavement

(Difficult to run on wet pavement. No?) I Capitalized stronger verbs used to create tension.

1. In the example the VILLAIN introduces the thought, focuses the reader away from John for a moment. (Tension/Danger).
2. THUNDERED (Tension/Alarm) is the WAY footsteps sounded to John. The word QUIET magnifies the sound and increases tension.
3. John’s fear increases, and he GLANCES (Tension/Urgency) to verify the villain’s distance from him. (Tension/Fear).

Flaccid language is not the solution to the management of voice. Neither are petty verbs. Strong (active) verbs are the writer’s weapons to expose voice and increase tension.  Most writers today, especially the self-published ones, tend to read one genre, and then copy the style of other weak writers. The examples I showed above did not contain any “ING” verbs, and not once did the word “Had” appear. “Had” is like a flashing billboard notice – “Warning. Passive voice ahead!”

Passive voice may be identified easily. Some of the word indicators are: Had, Was, and Were. ING verbs weaken any scene and dilute conflict. An unfinished draft about the “Dangers of Passive Voice” sits on my desktop, and perhaps I may be honored to post it in this blog at a future date.

Use the thesaurus to find better verbs, better words, and integrate those words into your story.

Copyists do not often find success. To avoid “Copyism,” read outside your preferred genre.

Success comes from bright, original stories, with intense characters and powerful writing, not from the passive, uncontrolled language of amateurs. Copy not another writer. Be yourself and let your language cause you to soar above mediocrity. Be not satisfied with simplicity, but write engaging tales that flow from your keyboard with energy and passion.

Write well,

Dave

***

David A. Owens is a writer and editor from Murfreesboro, TN. He has published Science Fiction, Horror, General fiction, and non-fiction. Questions or comments may be addressed to him by email: editor@netsite21.com

***

Picture for today is from Calvin and Hobbes. Might be some tension there. Wonder what they are talking about? Or should I say yelling about?

May your days be good and long upon this earth. Unless you go to Mars. And then I hope you rot because I'd be a little jelly. 

Versions, "On a Pale Horse" and Action Verbs

20 July 2018

As a writer, you have to keep your edits straight. I'm getting ready to release a few of my short stories for sale outside of anthologies when I realized I had three different versions of one story. Nothing too major, one was an edit by the publisher and another was an edit from a friend, while the third was the original submitted version. It is a little interesting to see the differences in the edited versions.

Another thing I am trying to improve upon, besides organizing, is using action verbs in my writing. Just need more writing practice methinks. I found a great example, even almost an over-use of action words in my opinion, while I was re-reading On A Pale Horse, by Piers Anthony. Great great book and the first book in a wonderful series (Incarnations of Immortality). 

Here are the first two sentences of the paragraph that caught my eye:

"The Doe quarterback snatched the skin and faded back for a throw. She heaved it forward just as two Ewes stampeded toward her."

As you can see from the first two sentences from the book, action verbs are everywhere: "snatched", "faded", "heaved", "stampeded".

Without action verbs, it would read like so: "The Doe caught the skin and stepped back for a throw. She threw it forward just as two Ewes ran toward her."

Reads fine like that, but not great. Action.

If you don't have the book, you can read more of it here: Page 26

And then you better fix your library and go get a copy! [On A Pale Horse Kindle edition] For those of you still on the fence, here's the back copy: 

“Shooting Death was a mistake, as Zane soon discovered. For the man who killed the Incarnation of Death was immediately forced to assume the vacant position! Thereafter, he must speed over the world, riding his pale horse, and ending the lives of others.”

Very interesting proposition. 

The rest of the series focuses on a different Incarnation. One of my other favorites is Chronos, the Incarnation of Time. Evil is pretty interesting too. That's a true author right there, who can write about the root of all evil in a way that makes you want to read it. 

Fair warning though, the books do cover some very controversial topics, to include why God doesn't do enough to prevent evil from taking over the world. Very hard stuff to read for believers, even if it is set in a fantasy setting. I reread And Eternity, the last book in the series, and was taken aback by some of the passages. 


Picture for today: 

The cover of my paperback copy of On A Pale Horse has a wonderful piece of work by Michael Whelan, titled "Thanatos." Thanatos is the Greek word for Death. He was the son of Nyx (goddess of night) and the brother of Hypnos, the god of sleep. Interesting set of relationships there.

Link is to the image on the author's website: Michael Whelan