James M. Vargo Books

Spring at Castle Rohbir in Norhiem  (I actually don't know where this is, but I like it) The first 10,000 words of the next book are in. Anything but settled, they roll along in a wordy string of explanation, question, and amplification. In other words, the story continues. 10,000 words is not much in terms of a novel, and in a series, it's just a blip; but it's a nice goal to share. I gotta admit, waiting for reviews to roll in is trying and unnerving. So far, I'm the king of Four Star reviews. (could be worse)  Still not sure if my book(s) have what it takes to be likable, readable, or something worthy of song. (such as Led Zeppelins'   Misty Mountain Hop )  Well, I can dream.  Truth is, I like my story, like what I'm writing, and how it is written. (grammar aside)  It is a style I want to improve upon, but I do enjoy it. Does that make me sound weird or conceited?  I know my novels aren't for everyone, and I feel a little embarrassed when a friend...

The plains of the Werithain (early book two)  {actually, it's near Lancaster, California...never been there, but it looks nice} Where does one get inspiration today.  Sometimes it's all doom and gloom out there, and the news pushes every bit of information to make life seem...well, horrible.  No wonder people write fantasy.  Inspiration is required, and for me it comes easily: a beautiful photo, a great song, a warm spring day, most Sundays in general. And then, if I'm lucky, I write. Not sure if my books will ever be widely read, and that's a scary thought; but I sit down, wonder if it's worth it, then look and the page and want to go on.  I look a picture, or recall a place I've been, and write or create, whatever name you give to art.  God made things beautiful -- why can't I. Book three is started, although book(parts) one and two can be read independently, and it will be slow going. But I want to do it.  Chapter two is rolling along, and I ha...

Mont Eldalard and Rivar Larin, Seat of Ainiald (Chapter 10)  (ok, it's really Prague, or maybe Budapest, but they have their similarities)    I have to admit, finding a sale pop up, and they do trickle in slowly, is the inspiration needed to keep going.  I write slowly, time constraints mostly, and as chapter two of book three stares me in the face, it makes me think -- "will anyone like my series?" Heck, does anyone like this blog? But I march forward. Maybe I'll be next Herman Melville whose Moby-Dick found popularity long after his death. Somber thought. I could give writing tips, like a lot of blogs do, or marketing advice, or how to find an agent, but what the heck do I know. But I do have a story to tell, and I hope you like it. If you don't like it, that's ok...we're still friends.    All right, back to chapter two. "Andro entered a favorite place in the forest..." 

A scene from book two, chapter four. It's funny how life imitates fantasy, or vise versa. When I write, I just kinda make it up as I go. (Well, there is an outline to follow) But I always found things that reminded me of my books: people, places, images. I like having a connection between the here and now, and the world within. How many times as boys, my friend and I saw Hobbiton across the hill from Ridge Road looking towards Jefferson. At least it fed our imaginations. Time to look for more pics... and write, of course.   Castle Rohbir, in Nordhiem. (or damn close) One of my favorite hikes...