Skip to main content

100K

A new day in Turra Arrither  
   Yes, tonight is about a very important number; no not 2013, this is a number dearer to my heart -- 100K. A writer should set goals, and 100,000 words is a heavy one. Some books need not go that far, but Epic Fantasies, well, tend to ignore puny word counts. Does that mean "Prince of the furies" is finished? Not quite, but I'm nearing the climatic end. So, a little ways to go; just a re-write or three, some new maps, a glossary. Sigh. Need I go on?

   Ok, I better acknowledge the other somewhat important event of this evening -- Happy New Year!  A blessed 2013 for those who enjoy my books, or just like the blog (hey, the pics are nice. Right?). To my writers friends out there, happy writing in this year to come. So whatever you do in 2013, do it well!

   To celebrate, Here's another snippet from book three Prince of the Furies (not the finished edit, mind you):



Brenn was most eager. This was his first visit to Idarill. He entered the kitchen that was cleaned of dust, thanks to the boy; but it was also clear of the smells one desires most, of bread and cakes, for the stove had been dormant for a year.
He followed Armond, who offered a short tour, down the hardwood corridor where windows offered rich views of southern peaks and forests. They stepped out into the main room, which rose tall in a broad square with shadowy rafters and a balcony with rows of books. Greynol’s pride and joy. A broom rest atop a set of stairs, left fresh and clean by Rhen.
The hearth was cold and dark in its long slumber. Cushioned chairs remained dusty and unused. Brenn surveyed the chamber:
“Seems quite livable. Greynol must have gained his wisdom from reading. Lot’s of books here,” he said, turning the page of a large tome that sat upon the room’s central table. “I could never read something so…thick.”
“Come along, there are plenty of rooms down the hall. The last one seemed to be his,” replied Armond, starting for the darker western corridor.
They came to the Acolyte’s room, stale since it had been closed up for the most part of a year. The bed was made and unused, and the room was plain, save a small book upon a stand beside his bed and a half-spent candle, snuffed out in its tin.
Grey Lane -- Thalon
“I will chose another room,” muttered Brenn, “this is his place. Doesn’t feel right.”
Armond gazed out the side window that gave a view of the hillside cemetery, which contained a handful of markers with names like, Idarill and Maxius. “There are plenty of beds here. Seems, this was once a busy place,” he said.
“Sad now, it belongs to no one.”
Just down the hall they discovered a larger room with several soft beds -- they found it to their liking. Drago and Zerrin came in and the four of them settled in. When they visited previously, for only curiosities sake, they discovered winter had damaged several shutters, and a tree out back was split during a spring storm. Out of Drago’s bag came a saw, hammer, and nails. Keeping the place in order would honor the old man – at least they thought so.
Brenn took the rest of the afternoon getting a fire started beneath the stove. He had brought some beef, carrots, fresh beets, and wild onion. He had plans on a stew. From the sound of it, the other chores were far from his liking, since the split tree was aside the graveyard. That job belonged to Armond...






Comments

Congrats on getting so much writing done in 2012!

Popular posts from this blog

hopeful quote

Pope John Paul II, in his Letter to Artists, quotes the following verse from a Polish poet, Cyprian Norwid: “Beauty is to enthuse us for work, and work is to raise us up”. And later he adds: “In so far as it seeks the beautiful, fruit of an imagination which rises above the everyday, art is by its nature a kind of appeal to the mystery. Even when they explore the darkest depths of the soul or the most unsettling aspects of evil, the artist gives voice in a way to the universal desire for redemption”

A long awaited...snippet?

As the Lords of Nordhiem takes shape, currently at 75k words, I realized it's time for a snippet. An older chapter, here we revisit Andro and his infatuation with a certain Randa (not to worry, folks -- it's still a fantasy). Enjoy:


Frost hung thick and the night deepened. Those about the fire had no complaints, tossing logs into the heady blaze. Ashes soared into the sky swiftly snuffed out by an autumn wind. Folks came and went – the heartiest not ready to call it a night. But Randa had enough and stood to depart some time before midnight. Andro was quick to offer escort. She shrugged her shoulders in her usual impassive manner. He took it as ‘yes’. “Randa, where are you headed?” hollered Rogan. He could not resist but laugh at the poor display of Andro chasing at her heel. “The road is the other direction!” “I know my way, Rogan. I wasn’t drinking tonight…not as much as you, at least!” “Then where are you going?” wondered Andro at her back as they left the others behind. “O…

the Final Approach

Nothing harder than writing fiction when real life presses upon you. It's not always bad stuff -- sometimes it's good. In this case, a much needed vacation. Before this the pages were flying along; at least for me. I am quickly nearing the 300 page mark and the end book four. So there it is: the Lords of Nordhiem update!

Now some perspective. My current dilema this time is something I call, the soft ending. You know; the Han Solo being carried off frozen in carbonite type thing. The build-up comes, but not the final part (of many final parts). The Lords of Nordhiem is a bridge book, linking a major transition to the final stroke of war and the enemy, and their opposition. but the break is necessary to carry us into the next phase. Things are getting deep.

I hope to resume the writing after my trip and have it finished in a few months. Then comes the final edit; but some of that is already done. I may actually have someone else look at it this time for a better edit. We shall …