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 see. So enjoy your summer, for winter is coming; oh wait, that's someone else's tag line. You'll understand later...

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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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