A season for Fantasy

Lanfersi Forest in Winter

I just had to make an entry here. December has arrived, and I've been holding on to this picture just waiting for a chance to use it. Nature seems to celebrate Christmas its own way...and it is breathtaking.

Here I sit at 92,500 words, and I'm trying to wrap things up in the next two chapters. Big ending? Well, not the full-scale war as at the end of Passage, so no, not as big. But better? Wow, pressures on. I hope so. The edit will offer me a better idea of how to manage lagging parts and such, then you can be the judge. I am ready to give it my best effort -- for some reason, holiday season's past saw a leap in productive writing, and I am excited to hopefully do it again. And since I've collected a bunch of fine winter scenes, here's another for your enjoyment. Happy holidays!

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A taste of Book Three

Excerpt : Chapter Four -- Prince of the Furies Between the grove and what appeared a small graveyard, the shrine rose tall and elegant. The building seemed a newer construction, and smelled of fresh cut oak when Jascha opened the double doors that were solid and stained a reddish-brown. They stepped into the vestibule and its silence held them. The building was square and not large, but adequate for a small village. Light came from stained-glass windows within the main chamber, which was open to them, and rowed clerestory across the nave of the roof. A beam of sunlight streamed into the rear of the chamber onto what appeared a bare table, without cloth or candle; and beside it knelt the girl they saw earlier. Jascha insisted they wait. Andro studied her from across the room. She appeared statuesque, illuminated by the sun, but innocent and beautiful. As still as an angel in a painting, she startled him when she suddenly turned. In a soft voice she spoke, “Come.”

Details, details...

The excuse of slow-writing knows no bounds. At 60,000 words, I could pat myself on the back; but many others crush my speed with their dedicated writing schedules. No matter - I have excuses galore. (although, I have given up some activities for Lent that directly influence my own writing schedule - so hopefully I'll get moving here) Anyone who reads my blog entries, and bless you if you do, may realize that I rarely speak of good writing/criticism/grammar/punctuation. There are plenty that do, and they do it well. To write well takes practice, patience, and a whole lot of opinion -- the friendly stranger sort. My advice to writing well: join a writing group, and there are plenty online to do it. There I learned a lot, and I learned when it was no longer useful. (it is hard to critique chapter five without reading chapters one through four - grammar aside) As you may know, I'm all about world-building and being immersed in a solid story - even if it spans many books. The ex...

Welcome

Now it begins. Actually, it began when I was about 12 years old. A Rankin-Bass cartoon called 'the Hobbit' came on television, you may have heard of it, and from there the fantasy genre had a new fan. Then came a fortunate gift: a 'the Lord of the Ring's' boxed set pushed me deeper into a wonderful new realm. Books, games, role-playing, all part of the process of exploring fantasy, became the norm. Some of us set out to try it ourselves. Many folk write as a way to express themselves beyond idle conversation, and some do it very well. Bookstores are full of talented, gifted, and sometimes lucky authors. Fantasy is no exception. Striking out on the first two, I'll give 'luck' a chance, but you know what they say about luck. Anyway, keep reading...

James M. Vargo Books

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