King's Warrior - Coming Soon to an Amazon Store Near You!

King's Warrior will be available for purchase at Amazon within the next week.

I would like to thank everyone who helped make this possible. I have the best family and friends in the whole world. I love you guys!

I will post an update as soon as the book officially goes "live" but it should be in the next 4-6 days.

To any fans: thank you for your patience. It's been a long process, but I think the finished product is worth the wait and all the effort and time that went into it.

Brittany Jean

I don't have any new news to post about King's Warrior just yet. However, I do want to promote this musician, Brittany Jean and some of her music. The first link is a song titled "She Almost Did" and is about 4 minutes long.

The second is a song titled "Wake Up America" and is approximately 8-10 minutes long. Both are worth watching.

Two Things I Never Knew I'd Fall in Love With

I was thinking the other day about certain things I've done in the past year or two that are very "new" and different for me as a writer.

~Writing song lyrics for my musician sister
~Working with my artist sister-in-law on creating a new book cover

Both of these things were never really things I had thought about much before. Sure, I'd written poetry before, and I'd thought that eventually all my books would need covers... but neither of these was high on my list of "things I'd love to do."

Well, these are now both on my list of "things I LOVE to do."

Why?

Because writing music and creating a piece of art are both things that I have no talent for. I can't write music. I can't even make up convincing tunes for my 2 year old when she asks me to "sing the milk song" ... a song that, as far as I know, doesn't exist, so I have to make up on the fly music and lyrics for it. This is generally a huge hit with her, but I am intelligent enough to realize that is only because I am her Mommy.

And yet, it is really fun to be a part of both, even if only in small ways. I discovered a year or two ago, that one of the most amazing things in the world is to write a set of lyrics for my sister and then get that set of lyrics back from her on a CD in a beautiful melody, sung in her gorgeous voice, accompanied by various instruments.

What I write is just a poem. What she creates with those words is Music.


With the cover of my book. I gave Angelina a general description of the image I had in my head for the cover. "Guy standing with his back to us, holding a sword. Mountains. Clouds. A dragon somewhere." (ok, I gave her a few more details than that... but not many).

What she painted for me was a masterpiece. An amazingly beautiful, intricately detailed image that looked like she had snipped it neatly out of my imagination and placed it on the canvas.

What I had in my head was just an image. What she created from that image was Art.


And although I'm certain I'm not the easiest person to work with (because, 1) we live 2700 miles apart, and 2) we've gotten into the teeny tiny nit-picky details of font color, and logo placement...) I hope she knows I am only nit-picky about THOSE details because I don't want anything to detract from the painting behind the title.

Character Assembling

I don't do this with every character. In fact, I don't do it with many characters... because most of my characters come to life pretty easily, I feel I know them well enough without creating a physical "list" for them... but in a novel-length story, sometimes it's good to have major attributes of your characters written down in one easy-to-find spot... so that, you know, your main character's hair color doesn't change mid-way through the story because you forgot what it was supposed to be and didn't want to re-read your entire first 50,000 words to figure out what color you had made it, so you guessed... not that that's ever happened to me.

Ahem.

This is a fairly extensive list, and most of the time I don't fill it all the way up, or I change some of the questions to make it more applicable to the genre of story I'm writing. But it's a handy little tool for creating three-dimensional characters. It can also be a good way to come up with ideas for a story if a character without one knocks on your brain and wants to come in.

1. Name:
2. Age:
3. Height:
4. Weight:
5. Birthdate:
6. Birthplace:
7. Hair Color:
8. Eye Color:
9. Scars or handicaps (physical, mental, and/or emotional):
10. Best Friend:
11. Enemies and why:
12. Parents:
13. Present problems:
14. Strongest and weakest character traits:
15. Hobbies:
16. Kinds of music, art, reading material preferred:
17. How do they dress:
18. Description of home (physical, mental, emotional atmosphere):
19. Most important thing to know about this character:
20. What is his/her favorite food?
21. When was the last time this character cried? About what?
22. What season suits this person best and why?
23. Do you like/dislike this character and why?
24. Describe the setting, where will the story take place?
25. Why will this character be remembered?
26. Why is this character worth writing about?
27. Write the first line of the story.

Bittersweet Moment

As of yesterday morning, The Dragon's Eye has been pulled out of circulation (there are, of course, still copies available for the moment through amazon, but only a limited number of copies). I went to my account and changed its status to "incomplete" in preparation for the new version.

It was an oddly bittersweet moment. I mean... the version that is out there is nowhere near as polished. It's not as well thought-through. Certain characters are not as well developed. What I've done in the past year and a half with re-writing and editing has really changed the feel of the book. It's still the same story, but there's a lot more depth there now. There's a direction to the book, which makes sense, since the first version was written before I knew the book would turn into a quadrilogy. I did no outlining for the first book, I had no idea where it was going, I just wrote 10 pages every day and let the story lead me wherever it wanted to go. It was a great ride... and it taught me a lot about writing. It taught me the value of outlining... a great author (I can't remember who it was, it might have been Terry Brooks) once said that you'll either do the work at the beginning of the writing process or at the end... but you'll do the work either way. I love the surprise of letting the story twist and turn on its own, I love the not-knowing exactly where I'm going to end up... but I don't love the re-writing that inevitably follows that sort of writing.

I've since learned that your story can still surprise you, even with an extensive outline to follow. In the midst of the writing process, a character may show up where you didn't expect him to be, and you decide on the fly that it's better this way than the way you had it in your outline, and that's just fine.

If I'm honest with myself, now that I've done all this re-writing, I'm a little embarrassed of the first edition. And yet, it's my first edition. The first truly book-length novel I ever wrote. The first book of mine I ever saw in published format. A lot of hard work went into it getting it written, having a friend design the cover and edit it. I will keep a copy of it on my shelf. But it's time to say "good-bye" to The Dragon's Eye, because I've moved on as a writer. I'm no longer a 19-year old college freshman, and I no longer write like one. This book is the first of a quadrilogy, a series of four books in which my writing style improved and grew and in which I found that all-important writer's "voice." I had to do the re-write to get it up to the standard of the rest of the series. Perhaps if it were a stand-alone I could have let it be. But it isn't, so I can't.

I know it's silly. You're sitting there reading this and scratching your head thinking, "Um... am I missing something? Didn't you just edit your first book? It's not like it's gone."

True.

But it is gone, sort of. Although the characters and the story are the same, so much of it is different inside now that it feels brand new to me. The book isn't The Dragon's Eye anymore, it has truly become a totally different book: King's Warrior.

So keep an eye out, because my goal is to get King's Warrior published this fall and into circulation in time for the holidays! (And maybe a mid-West book tour!) I'll keep you posted on the details of all that, never fear.

Thanks for listening to my ramblings. :)

Map

This is the map of Grayden's world (the new book I'm working on... I've posted some excerpts of the story before). Just wanted to show you an example of the kind of effort that goes into creating a world before a word is even written!

Kamarie

Of course, a few days AFTER I post my pictures of who I think could play the characters in my book, inspiration strikes!

We went to see Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides last week, and it struck me that
Astrid Berges-Frisbey

looks far more like the Kamarie I've always pictured than Bonnie Wright.

For one thing, she wouldn't have to dye her hair. And for another, even after being in Pirates, she's still kind of a no-name, she hasn't been in much at all. And, she's got a pretty cool Spanish accent.

Now, she's about 5 years older than Skandar Keynes... but I think she looks younger than she is, and it wouldn't be hard to make Skandar look a little older.

What do y'all think? Bonnie or Astrid?

Meet the Cast of "The Dragon's Eye"

I've seen a few other authors do this on their blogs, and it looked like fun. It's a blog, complete with pictures, where the author "introduces" his or her readers to the cast of his or her book. Bear in mind, that this is the way that I picture my characters. It is the cast I would choose if my book was being made into a movie in the next 1-5 years and if I were in charge of the casting decisions (and had unlimited funds and the ability to ensure each of these actors would say, "Sure! I'd love to play.... in the movie based on your book!"

Alrighty, without further ado... let me introduce you to my characters (just the major ones):


King Arnaud

I chose Sean Bean for this role partially because he has the look I'm going for, and partially because I love him as an actor. (And it'd be nice to see him as the "good guy" for once)

Queen Zara

Dylanna was harder, because I wanted someone who has a semi-ageless look, but who could conceivably be around King Arnaud's age as well. I really liked Elisabeth Shue in "Dreamer" and the role of Zara is somewhat similar to the role she plays in that movie.

Dylanna

The four wizardesses were hard, because I want them to look as though they could be sisters, and yet they have to be fairly different as well. I've only seen Kate Magowan in "Stardust," where she plays a fairly minor role, but she definitely has the right look.

Leila

Ok, honestly, this is mostly because I really like Stana Katic. However, I think she has the right look for Leila, and she could easily be related to the other wizardesses.

Calyssia

There has never been a doubt in my mind what Calyssia looks like. As the oldest of the four sisters, I think Michelle Pfeiffer could definitely do her justice (and she has lots of experience playing in fantasy roles). Yes, we did just recently watch "Stardust" but my personal favorite movie with Michelle Pfeiffer is "LadyHawke."

Ok, moving on:

Princess Kamarie

She's always been hard for me to picture in any actress, and I hadn't even thought about Bonnie Wright, but after several people mentioned her I definitely think she comes the closest to any actress I've seen. I think she could also pull off the personality.

Oraeyn

I'm still not sure about this one, but I love Skandar Keynes He has experience in a fantasy-esque role, and he has the right look. He's the same age as Bonnie Wright as well, which works quite nicely.

Yole

I've looked at a few different options for Yole, but I think Freddie Highmore works the best. He looks younger than Kamarie and Oraeyn, but still old enough that you could believe he could fend for himself on the streets (and possibly end up being a lost dragon).

Tobias

Much more of a secondary character, but as King Seamas' closest adviser and friend, I needed someone with presence, and with the "look" of the Dark Country. And besides, what's a good fantasy movie without Karl Urban in it?

Alright, on to the Big Three:


Kiernan Kane

As soon as he was mentioned I realized he was perfect. I had thought about James Marsters as well, but I like Paul Bettany better for the role... as I know he can do serious as well as silly.

Seamas

This one took me a while, but inspiration hit the other night and I realized that Steve Bacic is the perfect Seamas. You can almost believe that he could have been a good guy had circumstances been different... in fact, you probably want him to be a good guy... which makes his journey to the "dark side" all the more tragic. And even better, you can believe he is related to the actor I've picked for Brant.

And last, but certainly not least:


Brant

The minute I saw him it was as though my imagined picture of Brant had sprung to life. After watching all 5 seasons of "Angel" I'm convinced that David Boreanaz was born to play Brant. He can do the fighting, he can do the brooding, he can even do the quirky, silent smile that you're never certain you actually saw...

Flashback Friday

Instead of Freebie Friday, today I thought I'd share with you one of my earliest attempts at writing fantasy. :) It's pretty ... um... sad, but you know, you have to start somewhere!

Prologue

He could not go on, but he had to; for the sake of the kingdom and for the lives of everyone he had ever known or loved. And so, on he rode. He raced as if pursued by every worst nightmare that had ever been dreamed, and in truth, he may have been.
   
"I seek an audience with the King of Ramricte. His Majesty the King Reidon," the exhausted man gasped as he flung himself from his weary horse. Though it was against all regulations, the Captain of the Guard could be flexible. Even though this young boy was a stranger, had given no passwords, and had not even asked politely, there was something in his brown eyes that made the Captain look twice. 
   
The Captain of the Guard was known throughout the kingdom for what people called his “sixth sense.” He often acted on instinct and impulse, but he was also known for getting results and for being right. He trusted his instinct and that, more than his marvelous skills at horsemanship and in combat, had gotten him his title. He was a man of thought and a man of action, and these two traits had gotten him and the King’s army safely out of many dangerous situations.

    He sensed now that this youth, a young man of perhaps twenty years, had urgent news that the King needed to hear. So, without a word, the Captain led the boy into the throne room.

   "Who comes to me on such a fine day?" The King asked cheerfully, looking at the man whom the Captain of the Guard had brought before him. The boy was tall, with fine, strong features. His cheekbones were high, and he had a look of nobility in his eyes. He walked as one acquainted with the outdoors and he wore the sword at his side as if he had been born with it strapped to him.
   
"It is a fine day, but it is not fine tidings nor fine reasons that bring me into your council Your Majesty, it is I, Jorge." His voice was deep, clear, and full of strength.
  
The King started. That name was the last one he had expected and it struck him in the heart: the name of his son, the Crown Prince of Ramricte. Reidon loved his son, and had been deeply wounded when he was forced to sign the charges that had been brought against the prince nearly five years past.
  
"You were exiled from this kingdom and disinherited from the throne for your wanton act of horse thievery, a crime that stands just below murder." Reidon said, as sternly as he could, still not able to believe the words that he was compelled to say. Horses were the most valuable resource in Ramricte and horse thieves were punished severely, no matter whose son they were.
  
"A sin I did not commit father. But that is not what I came to discuss with you. Believe me, I would rather stay away a hundred years than shame my family. I came back because Horneblend marches this way, his troops number near ten thousand. His blue and white banners march only a two days' journey from here. Either evacuate or fight, father, but whatever you choose, I had to come and warn you in time to get the women and children out."

   The King's features softened, "We shall evacuate the women and children, we may have time. But Ramricte has never surrendered in its long history. We will fight."

Chapter One
 





Adrianna Stanton was not a fairy tale princess. Indeed, she seemed anything but. She was the normal daughter of normal parents who worked hard for a living and made it by with few luxuries. Life had never been perfect for them, but it had never been too hard either.
   
Adrianna was a very mature child for her ten years of age. She could be sent on practically any errand and be trusted not to wander about, but to carry out instructions and come directly home. It was on one such errand that Adrianna had a somewhat unpleasant encounter that she would later be grateful for.
 
  She had gone into the market to buy some flour, her mother was baking bread, when trumpets had started blowing, and men had started shouting, "Make way! Make way for the Princess!"
  
Everything had been in confusion as people scrambled to get out of the way of the guards. But Adrianna, confused and awed, had become rooted to the ground in the middle of the path as she stared, spellbound, at the approaching wonder.
   
Coming towards her was a parade of sorts. In front were armed guards, marching in time, carrying dangerous looking swords and dressed in sparkling armor, with medallions of every shape, size, and color clinking and clanging against the armor. Behind them was a litter made out of what appeared to be gold, with a roof and beautiful silk curtains of more colors than Adrianna could name. Surrounding the litter and its bearers was an escort of seven guards on horseback, and what horses! They took Adrianna's breath away, the prancing, spirited, proud animals held in check by nothing more than a few pieces of leather and metal.
  
She was jerked out of her daze as a guard pushed her roughly out of the way. She fell with a startled cry, more surprised than hurt. She was angry; no one had ever treated her in such a fashion. She was about to jump at the guard when a voice commanded with authority, "HALT! Bring her to me."
   
"My lady," the guard stammered, "She is a ruffian, a peasant, a dirty little orphan causing trouble."
  
"I am NOT an orphan and I'm not dirty!" Adrianna cried in outrage.

    "You dare question my authority?" The princess, for it was indeed the princess, asked the guard, arching an eyebrow and staring haughtily at the guard.

    "N-no my l-lady," he said. Hurriedly, and not too gently, he pushed Adrianna towards the princess.

    "What is your name, child?" The princess asked kindly.

    The little girl gazed up at the young princess in wonder. The princess was only about a year older than herself, but the differences between them were distinct. The princess wore a dress of bright blue silk, made with much more material than anyone needed for one garment. Her face was perfect and her mannerisms were dainty. But they stared at each other with the same direct and royal gaze, neither one willing to break that gaze first.

    "We asked you a question." The princess said, breaking the cool air between them.

    Adrianna suddenly became aware of what she had been doing and who she was in the world,
"Adrianna, Highness." She answered, curtsying slightly.

    Knowing she had won, the princess smiled, "We will not forget you, Adrianna. If we can ever make up for our guard's rude behavior towards you, you have only to ask."

    "Thank you, Highness." Adrianna said, almost matching the princess’ cool tone.

    "Drive on!" The princess ordered in a voice that said any further conversation was not about to happen. The guards marched forward shouting their usual call of "Make way!"

    Adrianna stood looking after them until they were out of sight. She was bewildered and confused. First the Princess Kalinda offered to make up for what her guard had done, and then she acted as if nothing had happened and Adrianna was just a peasant once more. Suddenly she was crowded around by people who had watched the whole exchange. They clamored at her for what the Princess had said to her and why? And they asked her over and over what exactly had happened, and what had she said? Suddenly Adrianna felt very small and she did not like the feeling at all. She felt like she was a nobody in the eyes of everyone. She was nothing more than a little peasant girl who had gotten in the way and had to be dealt with before word got out that the Royal Guards went around pushing and harming civilians. Adrianna fled from the marketplace towards home, determined to forget the days' events, to forget even that this day had even happened.

Back Story for Grayden's Tale

Don't want to give away too much. I haven't decided if this back story is worthy of its own book, or if I should just weave it into Grayden's story... I like both ideas equally at the moment. Here is some of the story behind Dalmir - this is more of an outline - lets you see my thinking process a little:



The world is at war - One of the Kings involved in the war has seven sons. It is customary for all the royal family to at some point go to the Library and study. However, the king sends all 7 of his sons at this point to try to find some wisdom or knowledge regarding their desperate situation and how to bring about peace to their land.

7 sons go to the Library (which is located somewhere off the mainland). While studying at the Library guests may eat from the fruit trees to sustain themselves, they may drink of the river to quench their thirst and they may read from any book in the Library. They may ask the Librarian (a woman... some sort of fairy folk) for assistance. However, the two rules of the Library are that you are not to eat from the silver tree, nor are you to drink from the waters of the crystal lake.

Uun (the middle brother) breaks both these rules - he is the “man of action” and he believes that the rules of the Library are meant to be broken. After 3-4 days of reading and studying in the Library, he is restless and eager for some bigger solution. He justifies and rationalizes the danger his people are in until he absolutely believes that the silver tree and the lake are there for the very courageous, and that by breaking the rules he may gain the knowledge and wisdom and perhaps power that is needed to save his people and bring his father the answer he needs. So, he gathers up fruit from the silver tree and a pouch of water from the lake and serves the “forbidden meal” to himself and his brothers (who do not realize what they are eating and drinking).

As they consume the food and drink, the floor begins to quake and the Librarian appears. She tells them that since they disobeyed the rules, they are no longer welcome in the Library. She informs them that because of their transgression, the Library is closing and tells them that they must now bear the responsibility of the Library for all time.

The brothers return and discover that they have been imbued with magic and as time passes and they do not grow older they realize they have also been given immortality. Gradually ascending in power, the 7 brothers (now wizards) become the advisers and eventual leaders of the people. They begin to build/create Universities (smaller versions of the Library they destroyed). They reign/advise/teach for 5000 years of peace and knowledge (the Enlightened Age).

The brothers see their punishment as a blessing. They are able to help people. They have each other for company. They have power and magic and respect. However, unbeknownst to all of them, Uun sees, and has always seen, their punishment as an unfair curse. At last, he decides to do something about it.

Synopsis

Alright, so, as many of you know, I am working on a new story (possibly a new series, we'll see where it goes). Thought you might be interested in some insight into my writing process today I will give you a very short synopsis as to what this new story is about (kind of like what you'd get if you picked the book up in the bookstore, flipped it over, and read the back cover). Next week, I'll give you some of the back-story, the place where we started this writing endeavor (many of the ideas for this new story are from my husband, hence the "we" there). I rarely ever write completely alone - I need people to bounce ideas off of... thankful my family is so willing to be my sounding board so often!

Ok, so, this new story, so far, is called "Grayden's Tale" - but that's just my working title... will come up with a better one later on. Here's the short synopsis so far:


In the small village of Dalsea lives a young man named Grayden. He and his best friend, Wynn, have recently been accepted to the Academy, a training ground for warriors. As they begin their journey away from everything familiar into the vast unknown of the future, they take with them all their doubts about leaving home and their excitement about a new adventure.

On the eve before they embark on their long journey across the country to the Academy, however, Grayden discovers an old man living high up in the mysterious tower on the outskirts of town, a tower everyone thought long abandoned. The old man, Dalmir, is angry with Grayden for disturbing his quiet contemplation. Despite his anger, something makes him come down from his tower, and invite himself along on Grayden and Wynn’s journey to the Academy.

Traveling with this enigmatic old man, whose face and energy bely his white hair and beard, Grayden and Wynn aren’t sure what to think. They find themselves awed and a little frightened of him, as well as curious about how he has managed to survive at the top of the tower without anyone seeing him or knowing about him for all these years.
As they travel through cities, fly in the amazing airships, and get hijacked by pirates - turning their journey into a far greater adventure than they ever hoped for - the two young country boys begin to grow up into the realization that the world is more vast and complex than they ever dreamed.

An Interview with Kiernan Kane

Taking a week off from Poetry Corner Monday...

One of the groups I am in, Breakout Books, is doing character interviews. I thought this was a fun idea, so I joined the party. I thought I'd go ahead and post the interview here on my blog as well. Enjoy! (BB stands for Breakout Books, KK stands for Kiernan Kane) They will be posting this interview on the Breakout Books Facebook page on April 27th.

Author Name: Jenelle Leanne Schmidt
Book Title: The Dragon’s Eye
Amazon Link: http://www.amazon.com/Dragons-Eye-Jenelle-Leanne-Schmidt/dp/1419602012/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1302634056&sr=8-2

BB: Tell us your name and a little bit about yourself.


KK: My name is Kiernan Kane. I am a wandering minstrel, and I have seen much of the world. I have sung in palaces and in marketplaces, for kings and commoners. I have a flair for the dramatic, and enjoy amusing people and making them laugh. I am in love with a wizardess, and although I believe she loves me in return, she refuses to admit it because she fears that she would be forced to watch me grow old and die while she stayed young and beautiful. However, there is more to me than meets the eye.

BB: What role do you play in your book?
   

KK: I play the role of a minstrel. I tell stories, sing songs, and get swept up in an adventure with the other characters almost through complete chance. Or at least, that is what they all believe...


BB: How did you meet your author?
    

KK: I was introduced to my author through inspiration she received from a song by Gordon Lightfoot called “Minstrel of the Dawn.” It inspired in her a desire to have a seemingly amusing, nonsensical character who was something of a troubadour, but ended up being far more than that in later books.


BB: Do you get along with your author?

KK: 
We get along very well. However, I annoy her constantly by popping up in places where she did not intend for me to be yet, or by doing things she did not plan to have me do. I am the character that most often “writes himself” in her books. However, while she claims to be exasperated with me over this, I think she secretly enjoys the fact that I do some of the work for her!

BB: Is this your first role in a publication?
   

KK: Yes.


BB: Do you plan on returning in other books?
    

KK: I do. And I have. I show up in the Prequel to this book, “Dawn of the Dragon’s Eye” and play an integral role in the two sequels, “Twilight of the Dragon’s Eye” and “The Minstrel.”

BB: Do you like how you were written? 
   

KK: I love it. I am acrobatic, fun-loving, hilarious and much deeper than I seem. Throughout the quadrilogy, I constantly get to pester and aggravate Brant (one of the other main characters) and he is often very close to furious with me... which I find to be great fun, and very useful. He is the sort of person who must do things because it is in his character to do them, and not because anyone tells him to.

BB: What is the most interesting thing that happened to you in this book?
    

KK: That is a difficult question to answer. I would have to say that the most interesting thing was the battle between Llycaelon and Aom-igh, and getting to witness first-hand the duel that ended the battle. But in addition to that, I got to travel with the Princess of Aom-igh, meet the last remaining wizardesses in the world, saw dragons return to the surface of Aom-igh after centuries of living below ground in great tunnels, and saw a king abdicate his throne to a young hero. There was plenty to keep me entertained throughout my journey.

BB: Who is your favorite character in your book, besides yourself?  Why?
    

KK: I would have to say Brant. He is the main character in this series, and while I do annoy him constantly, there is a brotherhood of shared experiences and mutual respect that grows between us throughout the series. I even get invited to his wedding in the third book!

BB: Is there anything we should know about you that we haven't been told in your book?
   

KK: I am not just a minstrel. But other than that, I can’t tell you anything that wouldn’t ruin the surprise at the end of the series.

BB: How do you feel about the way your story ended?
   

KKI am very satisfied with the way my story ends. I feel that it wraps up very nicely, and though there are struggles and tragedies and sorrows along the way, I do enjoy a story that ends well.

BB: Thank you, Kiernan Kane, for agreeing to meet with us and chat a little bit about yourself. It has been very enlightening.

Freebie Friday

Another excerpt from my new project: Grayden's Tale (which is just my working title) - it's the same one I've been posting excerpts from for a while now...

******

The first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, illuminating the thin layer of frost that covered the ground. Each blade of grass glistened in the nacreous light of dawn. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the warmth of its rays gradually melted the frost into crystal beads of water.

    The village was draped in garlands of late-summer flowers. Unlit lanterns lined the walkways of the town. Multi-colored ribbons fluttered from various doorways and were wrapped around fence posts, swaying gently in the morning breeze. The town was a veritable wash of color and cheer.

    “Grayden! Wake up! Wake up! Today is Harvest Festival.”

    Grayden groaned and threw an arm above his head, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling his blanket over his face. He did not know what time it was, but he was certain it was earlier than he wanted it to be. A small, but powerful force landed on his stomach.

    “Oof,” he grunted.

    The covers were pulled back and he squinted blearily into a pair of bright green eyes. He sighed, he would never get back to sleep now.

    “What time is it, Seren?”

    “I don’t know, but the sun is up. Today is the big celebration.”

    “I know, Seren. Do you know what happens today?”

    “We celebrate the harvest, and we throw a party for you and Wynn.”

    “And we also generally rest, Seren. That means we get to sleep in.”

    “I slept in... well, a little. Mother said I couldn’t wake you until the sun was all the way up, I waited a whole hour.”

    Grayden grinned, “Well, for that incredible feat of patience, I suppose I should thank you.”

    Seren nodded, her blond curls bouncing around her small face, “You’re welcome.”

    “Know what else happens on Harvest Festival?”

    “No.”

    “Big brothers are allowed to tickle their annoying little sisters who wake them up early.”

    “No...” Seren hesitated.

    Grayden grinned and formed his hands into claws, growling. Seren shrieked and threw the covers over his head, diving towards the edge of the bed. Grayden caught her leg and started tickling the bottom of her foot. Seren squirmed and giggled, kicking at him with her free foot, shrieking and laughing.

    The door to Grayden’s bedroom swung open and Grayden looked up at the cheerful face of his mother. He let go of Seren who half clambered, half fell out of the bed. Their mother put her hands on her hips.

    “Grayden was demonstrating one of the Festival traditions, I see.”

    “Mother! You mean it’s true?” Seren said, eyes wide.

    “I’m afraid so... but only once during the day,” she winked at her son and Grayden grinned. “Come on, Seren, I need your help stirring the biscuit batter, and Grayden needs to get up and get dressed for his big day.”

    Seren stood up and bounced out of the room. Dara smiled after the little girl and then met her son’s gaze. Grayden saw all her emotions jumbled together in her forest green eyes. They mirrored his own emotions: pride, fear, joy, sorrow, happiness, and a little bit of wistfulness.

    “Your father’s out milking the cow. He thought you should get to sleep in this day, but he said there was a pile of wood that needs chopping after you have breakfast.”

    “Yes, Mother.”

Production Studio

I've been thinking about this for a while now. And I thought I would go ahead and blog about it, for those of you who are interested in following my journey through publishing.

I am sick of writing query letters. I haven't written a ton, not as many as most authors, by far. But it just isn't anything I enjoy doing. I don't mind the rejection letters, those are pretty easy to take. It is my understanding that you receive YEARS of rejection letters before you finally break through into traditional publishing. That's fine. But it's really not how I want to spend my time.

I want to spend my time creating new stories. Not trying to get an agent or publisher to look at my stories. I want to retain the rights to my written works, not split it with some unknown agent who may or may not really have my best interests at heart. If I'm going to split my work with someone, I want it to be someone I really trust, with my life and my words.

That is why I am abandoning the quest for a traditional publisher. There is so much involved in that world that I really don't want to have any part of. I don't want to sell the rights to a Hollywood production studio, just to have them mess it up the way so many books have been messed up by the movie production world. I want someone I trust to make the movies (if they ever get made... that's the LARGE-SCALE dream). :)

Instead, I am throwing my efforts and my books into the Production Studio (we're in the very early stages, it doesn't even have a name yet) that my family is creating. This production company is the brain-child of several members of my family, my brothers, my dad, my husband mostly, and they are beginning to work very hard at getting it up and running. The main purpose of this company at first will be to promote, market, and distribute: my books, my sister's CDs, and my sister-in-law's artwork. It will also be focused very much on targeting the audience we want, the audience that many traditional publishers, record labels, etc do not believe exists, but that we know exists in abundance: Families.

We are hoping, in the next few months, to have a website up and running, that has regular Friday web-casts featuring my books being read out-loud (like they used to do on the radio years ago with books and other stories) in installments each week, songs by Brittany Jean, and artwork by Angelina... along with interviews with the artists themselves. This would be step 1 of the marketing process. We might even migrate all our blogs over there... we'll see what the capabilities are.

Eventually, we hope to open this company to other authors, singers, artists, film-makers outside of our family. We hope to have our own film-studio (which is great, because Evan's about the only person I'd trust to make my books into good movies anyway)!

So that is our exciting on-the-horizon-news... and the reason you won't be seeing me make any more updates about query letters and rejection slips from now on. If you would be willing to join us in prayer about this endeavor (and that we would come up with a name that we all love and has the meaning we want to convey) that would be muchly appreciated!

Second Picture Story Saturdays

Alright, it's about time someone posted on Saturday - even if nobody will read them because nobody reads blogs on Saturday - !


I've been working on a book that is a compilation of short stories for... oh... about 10 years now. Which is sad. Of course, in that time, I've also graduated college, gotten married, had a baby, moved a few times, and completed four 100,000+ word novels, so maybe not so sad... anyway, thought I'd share some snippets with you all... and start a regular posting habit (because I've neglected this poor writing blog for FAR too long).

So... here's the story of the inspiration behind my book of short stories:

Second Pictures Stories

     I got the idea for this book at a birthday party for an eight-year-old boy. His name is unimportant, for most of the names in this book have been changed to protect the innocent. And anyway, this is not a story about this particular young boy’s birthday party, so much as it is about a singular occurrence within the birthday party that gave me the idea for the title of this book. Something struck me when the father of the birthday boy told all the kids to get together for a picture: he said something that sounded so familiar it made me smile and almost laugh.
    “We will take two pictures, okay? The first one has to be good. You all have to stand still and smile, no bunny ears or silly faces. Then we can take a second picture and you can do whatever you want.”
    How many times had I heard those words? How many times had I stood impatiently through the “good” picture so that we could get to the “wild” picture? And oh! How incredibly long it had always seemed. The “good” picture always seemed to last for an unbearably long time. I stood back and watched as the father took the two pictures. The pictures were snapped and the two moments were captured for all time in the film of the camera. I smiled, there was no doubt in my mind as to which picture would be sent to family and friends.
     The picture that would surely go into the family albums and be brought out to show to friends was the one where all the children were standing politely in two rows and smiling beautifully like little angels. However, it was the second picture that most accurately portrayed the reality of the children at the party. In the second picture each child twisted his or her face into the most grotesque image possible, then he grabbed his neighbor’s throat and jumped up into the air. The light flashed as the second picture was taken, capturing for all time the wild antics of these young children.
     That picture would be taken out as well as the first one, and everyone would laugh over it in a few years. The children would be grown up and laugh at it too, wondering if they had truly ever been so silly. Yes, they would laugh, but deep in their hearts, they would remember the glorious beauty of childhood, and they would each secretly long for such a time again.
     And so, this book is a compilation of “second picture stories,” stories that reveal the true nature of childhood. These stories are exclusively about children, some of them young, some of them not so young. Some of these stories really happened, some of them are from friends, and some of them are even drawn from my own childhood, but it does not matter whether the stories are true or not, or which ones belong to who, what matters is the smiles that they bring. What you do with these stories is entirely up to you, but I would hope that they would help to inspire memories of laughter and fun, and remind us all of a time when we were just a little bit younger, a little bit less mature, a little bit more innocent, and a whole lot wiser.

Freebie Friday

Here's an excerpt from the revised version of King's Warrior - coming soon to a bookstore near you (hopefully) ;)


Kamarie, Oraeyn, and Darby meet Yole for the first time in the Mountains of Dusk:

     “What is your name?” she asked gently as she walked towards him with an outstretched hand.
     The boy shrank from her hand as if it were deadly poison. He glanced up at her and their eyes locked. A shock went through Kamarie as she felt a recognition of something long forgotten shoot into her. The youth seemed to experience the same thing, for he went rigid, and he looked at her sharply. His face suddenly looked too old, too wise for his apparent youthful age.
     “My name is Yole,” the boy said hesitantly, “who are you? I didn’t know there was anyone else in these mountains.”
     “I am Kamarie, and my two companions are Oraeyn and Darby,” Kamarie said, still puzzling over what she had seen in the youth’s eyes. It had seemed as though she was looking through a window and seeing a very different world than the one she had expected. There was something strangely familiar about this youth, like a part of a dream that has faded with time but was never completely forgotten.
    Oraeyn stepped forward, “What are you doing out here alone?” his voice was concerned, and a little bit suspicious.
     Yole glanced at his feet, “I was working for a man in the village of Peak’s Shadow.”
     Kamarie’s eyes met Oraeyn’s in startled recognition; he nodded and touched the hilt of his sword as if expecting an attack. Yole continued without noticing their reaction to the name that he had uttered, “I fell asleep while I was watching the herd, I know I shouldn’t have, but I was listening to the other shepherds’ playing their pipes and the music just made me feel drowsy and tired and I couldn’t help but fall asleep.
     “The next thing I knew, Brant was waking me up and telling me that I had to leave, that I should be more careful around people. I think he was accusing me of stealing sheep or something, but I didn’t. I don’t have any use for sheep of my own. I wouldn’t know what to do with them. I certainly don’t have any place to put them,” Yole’s tone was open and slightly confused, “I’ve been wandering through these mountains trying to find my way out for a long time now. I don’t have any food left, and I think I’m lost.” He sniffed, and wiped his nose with his grimy hand.
    Kamarie winced and said, “We have some food.”
    At the same time, Oraeyn asked, “Did you say Brant?”
    The boy looked at Kamarie gratefully, then turned to Oraeyn, “Yes sir. The man I worked for was named Brant.”
    “Well, now, that’s just the man that we need to find, isn’t it?” Darby said, causing them all to jump. It was sometimes fairly easy to forget that Darby was even there she spoke so little.
    “Yes, Darby, it is,” Kamarie said, surprised that she had not been as quick as either Darby or Oraeyn to make that connection.
    “He’s a good man,” Yole said quickly, darting a look at them as if he thought they would start accusing him of being ungrateful, “looks out for his people, he’s not really the leader of the village or anything, but everyone looks up to him. Whenever there’s trouble, it’s brought to Brant, and he deals with it, never saw anyone more fair in his treatment of others. And his family is nice too: kind, generous people. I don’t hold a thing against them. I don’t know what I did, but I know I probably deserved to be kicked out, because Brant wouldn’t ever issue a punishment if it weren’t deserved.”
    “Does he still bend knee to his King?” Kamarie asked thoughtfully.
    Yole stared at her, “Of course he does!” He exclaimed. “I told you, he’s a good man, follows the rules. Fair. Of course he bends knee to King Arnaud, he thinks very highly of him, he always speaks of the king with respect and admiration. He’s a man of character, Brant is, loyal to the end.”
    “Alright, alright!” Kamarie held up her hands, “I was not questioning his character. We just have to be careful in these difficult days.”
    The defensiveness went out of Yole’s eyes, “I’m sorry too, but Brant, he was good to me. Paid me more than I deserved, sent me out with plenty of food, well, it would have been enough food if I hadn’t gotten lost. Most of the other people I worked for used whips when they sent me away. I was chased out of one town by the villagers, they threw rocks and threatened to kill me if I ever came back.”
    Oraeyn stared at him, “What did you do?”
    “I don’t know, really,” he said, “but it must have been something awful.”
    “Did you ever consider, young man,” Darby suddenly spoke up, “that perhaps they were in the wrong?”
    Yole’s eyes got big, and he looked scared, “No! Never! I wouldn’t even let the thought enter my head. I just broke some rule and had to be punished for it, that’s all.”

Making progress

But not on the book from which I posted an excerpt a few days ago. (Though I do plan to work on that this afternoon, if I can use little L's nap to my advantage).

Nope, I'm working on something else. It's a writing project. It's a surprise. :) And that's all I'm going to say on the subject.

Form Rejection

"Please accept my apology for this form response, but the volume of mail received in my office makes a personal reply impossible.

I have reviewed your material and it is not anything I wish to work with at this time. Thank you for the submission and I wish you the best of luck with other agents."



Well... shucks.

A different perspective

I went over to peruse the ABNA boards today, because it's March 22, and that means that the next round of finalists went up this morning. (They are getting much better at doing that early in the day, even for us East Coasters)!

Amazingly enough, it was kind of nice to not be all stressed out about what I'd find. I didn't even feel compelled to check the lists - because, since I got cut in the first round, obviously my name wasn't going to be on it. (Ok, I'll admit, I did check the YA list... just on the off chance that there was some kind of mistake on the first one). But I wasn't worried about it.

Would I have loved to get the feedback that comes from making it to the second round? Of course. Can I get that feedback anyway? Well, I do have a friend who made it to "Vine Reviewer" status on amazon... she didn't get asked to be an ABNA judge... but she's as qualified as they are. And she'll give me a nice review, because she thinks my book is awesome. :)

Moving on... I'm sure I'll enter next year, because it's fun. But if I never make it past round two... it doesn't really matter. It's not a REAL fantastic method for measuring whether or not your book will succeed. I know enough people who have read and enjoyed my books, and there are people I DON'T know who have read and enjoyed my books, and most importantly I enjoy my books... so I'll stick with them. However, I'm beginning to see the up-side to sticking with self-publishing... mostly because my family is setting up a marketing/media company, and I'm thinking that using that company to promote/sell my books while retaining all rights to them might be what I would most enjoy doing. Besides, form rejection letters are depressing. ;) I'm thinking about submitting my ms to DAW though, they still accept unsolicited/unagented submissions... shot in the dark, but it might be fun... just to see.

New Book Teaser

     The sound of the window opening behind him made the old man’s head jerk around. He stood up, a towering figure in the small room and glared at the young man who had just dropped lightly through the window, throwing up a cloud of dust as he landed on the unswept floor. The boy looked around, his brown eyes curious and his sandy brown hair a little unkempt from the long climb and the winds near the top of the tower.
    “What are you doing in my tower?” The old man’s voice filled up the room and Grayden looked up, his eyes widening in shock.
    “Do you... do you live up here?”
    “You have not answered my question,” the old man raised up his cane and pointed it at the boy’s chest threateningly. “Now, tell me truly, how did you get in and why are you here?”
    “I’m s-sorry, sir. I didn’t know anyone lived up here. How... how do you get food?”
    “ANSWER MY QUESTION!”
    “Oh, right. I... uh... well, I climbed up the tower.”
    The old man strode over to the window and looked down, then he looked at the boy, disbelief in his sharp blue eyes. “You could see the tower?”
    Grayden frowned in confusion, “Uh... yes. The tower has been standing on the border of our village for as long as anyone can remember.”
    “That’s not possible,” the old man muttered. He looked out the window again. “Is that your friend down there?”
    “Yes.”
    “And he can see the tower too?”
    “Sir, everyone I know can see the tower. Why?”
    The old man stared about frantically, at a loss for words. Grayden gave a small shake of his head and looked around the room. Something in front of him caught his eye and he moved towards it.
    “What is that?” He asked quietly, stretching out his hand towards the glowing blue orb on the table.
    “DO NOT TOUCH THAT.”
    Grayden snatched his hand back and stared at the old man, wide-eyed. The old man strode to the table and stared into the orb. Then he straightened and his voice was suddenly quiet and terrible.
    “What have you done?”
    “I... I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir.” Grayden was beginning to wish he had never climbed the tower wall.
    “Look at it!” The man pointed at the orb.
    Grayden approached cautiously and bent towards the table, peering at the orb. It was mostly blue, but thin lines of red swirled within the glass like tiny, hairline fractures on its surface.
    “Please, sir, I don’t understand.”
    “Those red lines should not be there. What have you done?”
    “I didn’t do anything! I didn’t even touch it, I just climbed your tower, I’m sorry for intruding, I’ll leave now.”
    “Oh no you don’t,” the old man’s voice was stern, but gentler now. “It may not be your fault, but you’re caught up in it now. I must find out what is happening,” he paused and shuddered, “out there.”





Title for this book coming soon!