We've Moved!

Greetings!

Adventures in Fiction has moved!

(Click here to visit the new site.)

I've kept the same title for the blog, and even the same header, but the new venue will allow for a little more flexibility in some areas, such as published my space opera serial "behind" the blog but still accessible to readers.

Thieves' Honor is still being published, 

and new episodes will be published each Saturday. 

The first season is over, but the second season begins with Episode 27, and here are upcoming storylines for the crew of Martina Vega:
1) solve the mystery of the ghost ship Elsinore;
2) remove the tracking implant from Captain Kristoff's head;
3) choose sides in the rebellion;
4) get the colonial government off their backs;
5) engage in more battles, more piracy, and--oh, yeah--a little romance.

Meantime, there are other stories to write:
1) a fantasy cycle with a core trilogy (Dragon's Rook, Dragon's Bane, Dragon's Blood); a sequel (working title is the main character's nickname, Goblin); and a prequel (again, only a working title, The Legend of Kel);
2) a paranormal modern suspense stand-alone novel;
3) a YA historical fantasy novel;
4) many yarns in scattered notes and varied genres.

In 2012, I increased my editing load, and will likely continue with that load in 2013. I hope to squeeze good writing time into the schedule, though, because--as you can see from the list above--I'm gonna need it!

Thanks for stopping by, and come visit the new Adventures in Fiction.  

"The Next Big Thing"

B. Morris Allen, fellow writer and blogger, has tagged me and few others for The Next Big Thing: "a blog hop initiated six months ago by Toby Neal, who tagged five other writers." 

I became acquainted with Morris via e-mail and the slushpile over at Ray Gun Revival magazine (in hiatus), when he submitted what became a three-part story, published near the end of RGR's run. He was easy to work with, which--as Overseer and freelance editor--I appreciated. 

The rules of the blog hop:
1. Mention who tagged you, and link to their post.
2. Give the rules.
3. Answer the ten questions below.
4. Link to several more people.

Easy enough. Here goes:

1) What is the title of your next book?

Dragon's Bane, second in a projected five-book cycle

2) Where did the idea come from for the book?

The kernel was a short story: a young woman comes home ill from work, and lies down on the sofa near the fire while her roommate primps for a night out on the town. The main character falls asleep, and dreams that the chess board on the table beside her is transformed into a mythic topography where she meets new friends, frightening foes, and has adventures before waking once more in her cramped apartment.  

Not as exciting or feasible as I had envisioned, the story was set aside but wouldn't leave me alone. That was about twenty years ago. Since then, it's grown into a novel, then a trilogy, and now a five-book cycle. Only the barest bits of the original tale remain, but the landscape remains largely the same.

3) What genre does your book fall under?

The older designation might be "high fantasy", but I view it more as "adventure fantasy", with battles and journeys and such. 

4) What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?
That's a tough one. Haven't thought about it before. Let's see--

Chris Hemsworth would be good as the legendary but mysterious Captain Gaerbith, because Hemsworth looks a lot like the captain, and has portrayed characters I like (the Huntsman, for instance, though I was disappointed in the movie; and Thor).

Tom Hardy is a good stand-in for Kieran Smith, the blacksmith with the shadowy past and the blue lightening in his hands. In his thirties, Hardy is about ten years older than Kieran, but it's more about the character than the age. Just watched Lawless, and was impressed. Hardy seems to fill the screen, and Kieran's nickname is "the giant".

If the tall, dark-haired Lady of Skarda wouldn't be compared to a certain famous elf, I could see Liv Tyler in the role of Yanamari, daughter of an evil king and longing to be free.

As for the other lead female role in this imaginary movie, the short, crippled healer accused of murder, Maggie Finney, might be played by--well, I honestly don't know. It'd have to be an actress who could portray a quiet control over a seething mass of emotions and secrets, yet still show humor and a sense of inner strength. Maggie's been through hell, but she's full of hope.

5) What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
A weary soldier running from his destiny and a young blacksmith in search of his identity join forces on a quest for a lost sword, a lost people, and freedom.

6) Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
Well, I submitted the first book directly to a publisher this past autumn, during a brief "open submissions" window (no agented manuscripts allowed). It'll be a while before I know anything. If the book's rejected, I hope to at least receive a letter to that effect, rather than being left hanging, as another publisher did after requesting to see the entire manuscript. 

7) How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

Dragon's Rook took about ten years, off and on. I'm an ADD writer, going from one project to the next and back again. I don't recommend this process. 
As for Dragon's Bane, the first draft is still about a third incomplete. However, one of my goals for 2013 is to finish the book by June. June-ish.

8) What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Zoiks! Is it terrible that I have no clue about this one? Because I haven't wanted to be influenced by what's out there already, I haven't been reading much in the adventure fantasy realm. (Turns out, though, that stuff I'd included in the story years ago has been used by other writers or filmmakers in more recent fantasies. Just goes to show how difficult it is to be truly original. And how total strangers can come up with similar ideas.)

9) Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Difficulties in my own life drove me to create the world and the characters, and as I read back through certain scenes or dialogues, I can track my doubts and troubles. There's violence, but there's quietness, too. Confusion, but clarity. Foolishness, but wisdom. Isolation, but love. Despair, but hope. Although none of the characters are me simply inserted into the story, nor are any of the conflicts merely masked events from my own life, the struggles the characters experience are inspired by the twists and turns of my journey. 

I've often set these books aside, thinking that everything I'd written was crap, that no one wanted to read that drivel, and that I'd better just stick to writing in other genres, but then someone would come along, ask to read the first book, then whatever was completed of the second, and then tell me they wanted to know more of the story. If they wanted to know more, that must mean they were invested in the characters and the outcome. That, more than anything, has kept me writing this story.

10) What else about the book might pique the reader’s interest?

There's a bit of magic among the villains, and some special abilities among the heroes, but no elves or dwarves or mythical critters aside from dragons. 

And even dragons weren't supposed to be there. Then one shows up and causes trouble, and I figured, why not make dragons beasts of burden and of war? Kind of remote-controlled soldiers, if you will. Then he laughs. When he laughed, I knew he could speak. As soon as he spoke, the story blew wide open, and had a structure I hadn't considered earlier.

But the focus is still on the human characters--their hatred, bitterness, prejudice, longing, love, hope--and on their search for a past that will help them build a better future.

The next next big thing

* cue evil laughter *

Suzan Troutt

Dave Farney
Lyn Perry
L.S. King
Jeff Chapman

The torch has been passed. Whither it goes from these five fists, who knows? That's the fun in the journey.

In Christmas Past

The Christmas poem tradition continues, with the fifth annual posting of a compact memoir of all my childhood Christmases, and a wish for a constant remembrance of what makes tough times good.

from DesktopArt.com

In Christmas past, I used to wait
wide-eyed in the dark,
willing daylight to arrive--
or the first chimes of midnight--
but always, always, I fell asleep,
and did not hear the whispered consult
or see the huddled adults
conjure piles of wrapped treasure
beneath a tinseled tree.

Then came the years the gifts were few--
maybe only one--
but popcorn, cocoa, carols,
reading in the Book of Luke,
warmed the coldest winter holiday,
reminding us by frail candlelight
that even the brightest star
blooms suspended in chill space,
unseen without the dark.

c. 2007, Keanan Brand

Bones, Bones, Lovely Bones

I'm not a celebrator of Halloween, but have been known to read the odd dark fantasy, watch the occasional horror flick, and write a weird tale or two.

This being October, I thought I'd root around in the dank cellars of past writing and short pieces for the reading pleasure of those for whom All Hallow's Eve is a source of creativity.

my attempt at drawing bones

First is this quirky little poem composed on the fly in 2009 as the response to an editor's new system for judging stories in our slush pile: award them bones.

Bones, bones, tasty bones
Fresh bones, blood-sticky, flesh-spongy bones
Arm bones and thigh bones and tiny, skinny finger bones
Puzzle-cut spine bones and knobby-ended wrist bones
Not-so-round skull bones
Shovel-scooped collar bones, wing-like shoulder bones
Bones, bones, lovely bones
White-boiled angels floating in my stew

In keeping with the previous image, here's another sideways bit, this time a piece of flash fiction I composed for a contest Adam Callaway hosted over on his blog, also in 2009:

Dinner drips from my fingers, grease mingling with the blood on my boots, and I am weary from the hunt, but the cook has ruined his last meal; despite his weeping protestations, despite my wife's admonition not to bite the hands that feed us, I will have new meat for roasting.

Resigned, she sends one of the servants with a cauldron to capture the fat for rendering, and wonders aloud if the skewer will bend to breaking with such a load as it now bears.

"It's his own fault"—I kick aside his apron and bloody clothes—"for letting that annoying miniature Englishman up the beanstalk."

Y'know, I've always wondered about Jack. He invades someone's home, steals his stuff, and chops down the beanstalk, committing murder. Makes me think the giant was justified: "Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive or be he dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread."

Yum!

Excellence v. Mediocrity

Novelist Athol Dickson has posted an article on his site, discussing excellence v. mediocrity in writing.

Excerpt:

It’s true many novels by Christians are poorly written. That’s also true of many other kinds of novels. In fact it’s true of most novels of every kind, but it’s not a particular indictment of mediocre writers or the readers who enable them. Most people don’t really care about excellence in architecture, sculpture, painting, or dance . . . or government, commerce, marriage, or anything else in life that ought to matter.

What interests me, is why. In our discussion about the “Worst Books” list, some of my author friends speculated that so many people dislike those novels because they were forced to read them in school and disliked them then. But these books truly are works of genius—most of them are, anyway—so why didn’t we love them in the first place?

It's a thought-provoking read, not only for writers who happen to be Christians, but for any writer who strives for excellence.

As an editor, I am constantly confronted by the "good enough" work of fellow writers who just want me to sign off on their manuscripts rather than helping them shape those manuscripts into polished books. The constant fight to challenge other writers toward excellence can be wearisome, but it's not a fight I can ignore.

Just this past week, I had an e-mail  conversation with a rookie novelist whose work is being published soon. He acknowledges that it needs more crafting, but it's been praised so highly by so many people—I was his only negative reviewer—that he's going ahead with publication, because (as he put it himself) it's good enough. 

Not to sound overly pessimistic, but I've been feeling like the "lone voice crying in the wilderness"—and then I read Mr. Dickson's eloquent, thought-provoking post. I'm dropping a copy into my archives so I can pull it out whenever I need encouragement. Or a kick in the pants.

The Telling - day 3

Zeph stared at the Indian. "We've met before, haven't we?"

"Ha!" Little Weaver clapped his gloved hands. "A shred of sanity!" Then he leaned toward Zeph. "At some point, Brother Walker, you will have to trust again."

Zeph's eyes were locked upon the Indian. Then his shoulders slumped. "That's what I was afraid of."  (p172)

When the people around town start behaving strangely, knowing who to trust becomes a challenge in this month's CSFF Blog Tour feature: The Telling, a speculative novel by Mike Duran, author of The Resurrection. And what's the story behind the town's mass suicide over a hundred years ago, and what truth is there to the legend about the ninth gate of hell?

Human grief and hubris unlocked it. Zeph Walker is the key that will close it once more.

If only he can overcome his past: a childhood marked by the gift of prophecy; manipulation and abuse by his mother and stepmother; and the grief and regrets that keep him locked inside a world of his own making.

You aren't a prophet, the phantom hissed. The blade proved it.

Sadness. So much of it inside him. Her words seemed to reawaken the venom of bitterness. Zeph swayed back, overtaken by a great darkness looming on the periphery of his mind.

You are the son of silence. Sickly glowing eyes peered at him from deep inside the mine shaft. And now you've gone and killed someone. (p213)

I could analyze this novel, and dive into spiritual applications or ramifications, but I won't. This is fiction, and anyone seeking a one-to-one correlation with the Bible will not find it here. There are no sermons. No allegories. There is a serious struggle between the darkness and the light, and flawed characters who are drawn into the fight. Some lose the battle, but some emerge stronger because of it.

For readers looking for suspense, action, a touch of horror, they'll find it in the pages of The Telling. It's an intriguing read. 

Anyone who has ever had to fight for his faith, has ever had to walk alone because of deep wounds, has ever endured abuse and struggled to find hope or love on the other side, will likely connect with Zeph Walker as he wrestles with truth, failure, forgiveness.

For other perspectives on The Telling, check out these stops along the tour:
Jim Armstrong Beckie Burnham Jeff Chapman Theresa Dunlap Victor Gentile Nikole Hahn Bruce Hennigan Jason Joyner Julie Carol Keen Emileigh Latham Meagan @ Blooming with Books Rebecca LuElla Miller Lyn Perry  Kathleen Smith Jessica Thomas Steve Trower Dona Watson Shane Werlinger Phyllis Wheeler

The Telling - day 2

"According to the legends, on Planet Earth there are nine gates to hell. Most of the gates are scattered across America--insane asylums, cult clearings--"

"Retirement homes," Zeph deadpanned.  (p114)

One of the things I like about Mike Duran's novel, The Telling, is the wit. It's sideways, dry, often unexpected, and it rises naturally from the characters and the events. And some of it -- humor dropped into a dark situation -- has a Southern or country twang, which reminds me of stories told by older kin back home in Arkansas:

"Mr. Duty." The world seemed to wait for Zephaniah's words. "The Lord has this for you."

The congregation drew a single collective breath. And held it.

Zephaniah spoke the words just as he'd heard them.

Blaise Duty looked like he'd been punched in his soft, spongy gut. The color drained from his orange-tinged skin, and his bottom lip began to tremble.

..."Loree-e-e," was the last thing he said before spinning like a corkscrew onto the carpet and falling flat on his back, as dead as a possum on the center line of the 395. (p150)

 Or an armadillo in the ditch.

Despite the California setting, there's a Southern gothic feel to this novel. That's all right by me. Done well, that dark, moody atmosphere adds mystery rather than melodrama, and serves the story.

It also enables even the not-so-spiritually-inclined the reader to suspend disbelief and accept fantastical elements as if they were a matter of course.

"Ah! The dark angel craves one thing--to be like man. And to be like man, it needs but one thing--the breath of life. If this one had finished its feast, Brother Walker's body would have been disposed of--a fully formed ectype would have developed, an angel become man. It would have blended into your society without notice. In the case of Brother Walker, few would ever know it."

..."The world is growing dark. Soon the night will fall when no one can stand. All will become enemies. Friend and foe... ." (p169)

 And:

Little Weaver closed his eyes. He drew a breath and straightened. "My name is Little Weaver, heir to Big Weaver. He guarded the gateway to the underworld, heir to those before him. Long before the miners came with their tools and their lust for wealth. Long before the scientists with their calculations and careless tinkering. We watched. We waited for the wielder of wild magic. The Branded One who would close the gateway forever."  (p171)

And that is the crux of the tale.

But we'll discuss that further tomorrow.

For other perspectives and more in-depth reviews of The Telling, check out these other stops along the tour:
Jim Armstrong Noah Arsenault Beckie Burnham Brenda Castro Jeff Chapman Christine Theresa Dunlap Cynthia Dyer Victor Gentile Nikole Hahn Bruce Hennigan Jason Joyner Julie Carol Keen Emileigh Latham Meagan @ Blooming with Books Rebecca LuElla Miller Anna Mittower Kathleen Smith Donna Swanson Jessica Thomas Steve Trower Dona Watson Shane Werlinger Phyllis Wheeler