WARNING! Lengthy story!
This is 2766 words of rubbish that I made to express what grief feels like to my Dungeons & Dragons character, Trym... and to me as well. It's a long piece, and I just wanted to wanted to warn you of that so you are prepared to grab something to drink while you read!
Other stories to also read: Two Blades (another story about this same character!), Thank You For Loving Me, Annaka & Arden
Darkness enveloped the world like a dark blanket. Pale mists swirled from unseen places and wrapped themselves around a Halfling, whipping at her, making her blink her sharp green eyes as it tangled her long golden hair around her neck and face.
The mists whispered, their words jumbled and overlapping one another. Only a few words and names stood out to the Halfling. With each name she heard, she experienced pain, such pain that she could barely breathe or stand.
The mists hissed the name of her father, who she had lost so long ago, then the name of her first teacher, who had died only a few years ago.
Trym grabbed her head, her fingers groping at her scalp, pulling at her hair. She stumbled a few steps as her vision tilted one way, then the other, overcome by the throbbing pain.
The mists wiggled between her fingers, sinking into her ears. They whispered the name of her dearest cousin, a cleric who had suffered a fate worse than death before ultimately succumbing to death itself.
“Enough! Stop it!” Trym swiped at the mists as more pain pounded inside her skull.
The mists grew thicker around the Halfling, tugging, clawing, and biting at her before saying one final name.
Trym opened her eyes.
The mists repeated the name in a cruel, mocking tone. It was her mother’s name.
The dark world turned red in Trym’s eyes. Her hands clenched into fists. Her muscles grew taut and began to quake.
“I said…” She grit her teeth together and drew her arms in close to her chest, red light glowing in her fists, “ENOUGH!” She threw her arms open. An explosion of red light burst out from her entire body, burning the mists, making them shrivel and fall to the dark ground in liquid puddles. There, they twitched and writhed before standing up and taking on humanoid shapes.
One was a blue half-dragon. Trym barreled up to the beast and took a swing at him. Before her fists connected with him, he sneered and disappeared in a puff of smoke. She snarled like an animal and spun around, watching another mist rise up and take the shape of a cultist woman in purple robes. Trym charged the woman and jumped into the air, arms open, ready to grapple her and choke the life out of her. Just like the half-dragon, the woman smiled and disappeared, leaving Trym to fall to the ground, empty-handed.
“Awww… the little paladin can’t catch her quarry? Struggling to fit into your own armor, I see. What a pity.” A masculine voice sounded from the darkness. Trym vaguely remembered the voice, but could not place it. It stirred burning hatred inside her. “I know! The church has been too tough on you, expecting you to haul in fish that are too large, if you know what I mean. Let’s try something easier, shall we?”
One of the mists stood up and took on the form of a sour-faced old man Trym recognized as Nix Stonehill. How she disliked him! In fact, as she stared at him, she felt anger well up in her chest and turn to hatred. She opened her mouth, unleashing a bestial roar that turned into a burning wall of fire. The old man’s eyes went wide just before the wall slammed into him, punching him backward. He slammed into something, then crumbled into a smoldering heap on the floor where he did not move again.
Trym winced as more pain bit at her temples. Why had she done that? She didn’t really hate that crabby old man.
The voice laughed. “Well done! That was easy. Let’s try another one!”
Trym whirled around and watched as another mist took the form of a dwarf paladin she knew: Onthar Frume. Once again, anger welled up inside of Trym, this time turning into a burning rage. It boiled inside her, coursing through her veins, making the red world turn a shade darker. A dragon-like roar erupted from her mouth before she charged the paladin. With each step she took, she grew several feet taller until she was towering several feet over the dwarf.
Frume fell into a defensive crouch, raising a shield, but he could not stand against the monster Trym had become. She beat her giant fiery fists against him relentlessly, one right after the other, her knuckles ringing on his armor like a hammer on steel, the force of her blows crumbling his shield into scrap. Finally, he fell to the ground, arm broken. But Trym couldn’t stop herself. She beat him until he was little more than a bloodied pile of broken bones.
As he died, pain exploded in Trym’s chest, like a red hot sword piercing through her. She stumbled back and groped at her heart with a gasp. She stared at the broken paladin lying on the ground, terror rushing through her at the sight of what she’d done.
She didn’t hate Onthar! He was a decent dwarf that she respected. Why had she killed him?
The voice laughed. “Oh, that was fun! Feeling that energy rushing through you? The terror and excitement? Let’s try something a little more exciting!”
The darkness bent, then shifted, tendrils branching out from it. They pierced a twitching pool of mist and mixed together until they formed into an older man wearing the red robes of a wizard.
“Gaku…” Trym snarled, her hatred returning and coming to a full boil.
The wizard spread his hands with a smile. “Come and get me!” With that, he shifted into the form of the young boy, Connite, the smile remaining on his lips.
Trym stared at him, teeth grit, rage pulsing burning her insides. She clenched her fists, then unclenched them, her muscles quaking as she struggled with both the urge to kill and her sympathy for the boy. She knew it really wasn’t Connite, but it wasn’t right for her to murder him.
“Trym… don’t do it.” She turned her head and looked at Alvin, her monk friend. “Con is my friend.”
“Oh, come on! I’m right here! Poke me!” The wizard’s voice came from Connite’s mouth. “You know you want it.”
“Let’s think about this for a moment, Trym, before we do anything rash.” Aldrik, the dwarf cleric, appeared on her other side, raising his mace and shield defensively.
“Why does everything we do turn into such a mess? I don’t like this!” Robin walked up behind the cleric, folding her arms, staring disapprovingly at Trym.
“I mean, he’s a kid, Trym. We don’t actually kill kids, do we?” Kale hurried up to Alvin’s side, looking at the monk and shrugging, “I mean, do we?”
“How could you even begin to consider such a heinous thing? He’s just a boy!” Acodo appeared next to Robin, weaving his hands in preparation for a spell.
“This is low, even for you Shortstuff.” Trym’s good friend, Toralei, stepped up to Alvin’s side, folding her arms and narrowing a tiger-like glare at Trym.
“Your friends are noble, but so naïve,” the wizard crooned, “They mistook me in the caravan for a simple old wizard. Some actually thought me an ally when I spoke up in your defense once! You let me slip right through your fingers, because of your noble, lawful little friends. Now, I’m offering you a free shot.” Connite’s form smiled and spread his arms, “Come on! Give me your best! Anything has got to be better than what your mother or cousin gave me! They were a disappointment on so many levels.”
Something snapped inside Trym, unleashing an ocean of rage. She roared as the wizard laughed, then charged, not caring what innocent guise he took or who stood in her way.
“No Trym!” All of her friends converged on her at the same time, tangling themselves around her feet and slowing her down.
The wizard laughed as Trym grabbed her friends in her giant hands and hauled them into the air. She raised them above her head and aimed them at her enemy.
Suddenly, a bright flash of light pierced the darkness, blinding Trym. Searing pain bit at her muscles, making her drop to her knees and release the deadly hold she hand on her friends.
“That is enough, young lady!” A familiar feminine voice shouted.
A blast of harsh wind slammed into Trym, pelting her with rocks and sticks. She bowed low and covered her head, crying out.
As quickly as it came, the wind faded. The whispers of the mist were replaced by the songs of birds.
Trym opened her eyes and saw lush green grass under her. She sat up and blinked as the light of dawn burned her eyes. She sat in the middle of a small garden, under a beautiful mimosa tree. Surrounding the garden were rolling green hills filled with all manner of flowers and wildlife.
“Well I never! Did beating the pulp out of everyone make you feel any better?”
Trym stood and spun around, coming face-to-face with an older Halfling woman. Her curly honey hair glinted with traces of silver and her green eyes were narrowed at Trym accusingly.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” She put her hands on her hips and tapped her bare foot on the ground.
A lump formed in Trym’s throat, her eyes stinging. “Momma?”
Her mother huffed and grabbed her apron, wiping her hands on it. “Trym, I taught you better manners than this. What did any of those people ever do to deserve such a temper tantrum?”
Trym glanced around herself, then back at her mother. “I… I...”
Her mother spiked an eyebrow, frown deepening. “The answer is nothing. You are just out of control.” She walked away to a bare patch in the garden, picking up a trowel and using it to dig a hole where she placed a petunia. “This isn’t the way I raised you!”
Trym clenched her fists, “If ya had yer way, I would be stuck in a cozy hole in the ground with a fat husband and a mess of wee ones runnin’ about while I tilled a garden and worked in the kitchen all tha live-long day!” She unclenched her hands and shuddered, realizing she had slipped into an old, pointless argument she used to have with her mother regularly.
Her mother sighed, “Stop using that ridicules Dwarfish accent! Just because you have dwarvin blood doesn’t mean you can talk like you crawled out of a dark hole in a mountainside! Speak properly.” She turned around to peer at Trym. “And the same goes for your manners lately. Whatever happened to good old fashion Halfling curtesy? The little folk don’t go around starting fights. They might finish them, but they never start them. You’ve been doing just the opposite. It’s downright improper and embarrassing.”
Trym felt her lip tremble. She glanced up and around, trying to bring herself under control, but all she could think about was how perfect the garden was and how much she missed her momma. Before she could stop it, cruel sobs tore past her throat and a torrent of tears flooded from her eyes.
Her mother’s eyes went wide with horror, “Trym! Trym darling, what is the matter?” She dropped her trowel and hurried up to her daughter, “Whatever could make my stoic paladin girl cry her eyes out?”
“I love you, momma. I never told you how much I loved you.” Trym covered her face with her hands as the sobs refused to show her mercy. “Only now do I realize how pointless my priorities were before. I wish I had spent more time with you in the garden. I wish I had listened to you talk during teatime, instead of arguing with you. I wish I had read more of the books you wanted me to read. I took you for granted!” Her mother wrapped her into a comforting embrace and guided her to a little bench where they both sat. She rubbed Trym's back and held her close until the sobbing had quieted some.
“There now, Dawnbringer. No sense in crying your heart out for spilled milk, eh?”
“You aren’t spilled milk! You’re my mother and I want you back!”
A sharp pinch in the elbow made Trym look at her mother, blinking the tears from her eyes just in time to see that warm, comforting smile she missed so much.
“Everyone passes on, Trym. You couldn’t keep me forever. Punishing those around you because you feel empty without your loved one is no way to live, and it’s downright selfish. You need to let me go.”
Trym wiped her sleeve across her dripping eyes. “I don’t want to. I never stopped to tell you how much I loved you. You were gone in the blink of an eye. I want to make it right.”
Her mother stroked a strand of Trym’s hair behind her ear. “You never made it wrong to have to make it right, sweet one. I never doubted that you loved me. Not once. I saw it in the quiet moments when you thought I wasn’t watching. Remember the time you secretly planted wild iris around my picket fence to make it pretty for my birthday? Or when you gave me your salary instead of using it to fix your armor? And that time you got me a new tea kettle when my old one was stolen? It was the little things that meant the most to me.”
“Oh. Well… I have to confess… the tea kettle wasn’t exactly new...” Trym sniffed and wiped her sleeve under her nose.
“For heaven’s sake, girl! Where is your handkerchief?” Her mother admonished as she pulled out her own lacy handkerchief and pressed it into Trym’s hand.
“What am I gonna do without you, momma?” Trym’s lip trembled as she spoke.
Her mother laughed softly, “Get your own handkerchief, I hope!”
Trym reached out and grabbed her mother’s warm hand, holding it tightly. “I feel lost without you.”
Her mother’s smile grew and she placed her hands on Trym’s cheeks. “All these years, as you’ve blazed your own trails, you’ve had your family right there with you. Now, you’ve finally set out on an adventure without your cousin tagging along or your mother coming to find you. You have to find support from others now, from friends, not family. Setting out on your own is a scary thing, and goodness knows that asking for help has never been your strength, but it’s about time you learned how to fly without me there to hold your kite strings.” She leaned forward and planted a lingering kiss on Trym’s forehead, “Now, close your eyes.”
Trym did as she was told, reaching out and resting her hands on her mother’s shoulders.
“I’m in a good place, Trym. I’m happy and safe. I love you and I am proud of you. Now, with this knowledge, I want you to go and show the world what I’ve always known: that you, my daughter, are amazing.”
Trym felt her mother slowly fade away from beneath her hands. “I love you, momma.”
She could feel the warm glow of her mother’s smile fill her heart, even as she woke to the dark ceiling of her room in the Yawning Portal Inn. She rolled over and saw her bard friend, Robin, sleeping peacefully on the other bed near the door.
Trym sat up, wiped the tears and sleep from her eyes, then wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and curled up at the head of her bed. She stared out the window beside her, watching as the pale light of dawn brightened outside world. Her mind wandered to those last precious moments she had with her mother. She wasn’t sure if it had been real, or only a dream, but it was exactly what she had needed. In her attempt to ignore the pain and deny her loss, she had taken her grief out on everyone around her and left her heart broken and empty. Now it was time to come to terms with the fact that she had lost someone dear and fill the empty space with the sweet memories. The process would hurt, but it would make her a better person.
Trym smiled as she thought about these things, peace filling her soul. As she crawled out of bed and dressed for the day, she remembered something her mother had once told her. It was something she had brushed aside, only now realizing the wisdom behind it: Death is not the end of life, but a part of it. It only becomes a tragedy if the living let it destroy what’s inside of them.
Before we get to the challenge, if you haven't been keeping up with this series so far, you can catch up by checking out The Writing Challenge Series category.
Today's Challenge: a character from your WIP who intrigues you.
Oooh! This will be fun.
I currently have 2 WIP (works in progress).
#1 - The Tales of the Wovlen series.
Vliron from book 2. He doesn't just intrigue me. He fascinates me. I can't really explain why, because that would be spilling the beans on the forthcoming books in the series, but let's just say that he is not what he seems. There is more to him than meets the eye. Plus, he's hot, wears black, has a tragic backstory, is rugged, and kicks butt on the battlefield. What more does a girl need to be intrigued?
#2 - Deepwood Tales.
This set of stories is being done in conjunction with a friend, and I'm not sure if they'll ever get published, but the main character of the stories will play a part in the fourth book of the Heroes of Ravenford series.
The main character of Deepwood Tales is Kalyn. Her closest friend is a middle aged woman called "Fran". Fran intrigues me. She is blind (or appears to be), has a one legged screech owl, a gaggle of "demon" geese, and lives by herself in the forest. She knows how to heal, how to create magical items, and how to fend for herself. Monsters avoid her, and she always seems to know things that she shouldn't.
I get the feeling she's a lot older than she looks too.
So, yep. Those are my two WIP, and those are the characters from them that intrigue me.
Today's challenge is going to be a fun one! But first, if you haven't been keeping up with this challenge so far, here are the previous days!: DAY ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE, TEN, ELEVEN, TWELVE, THIRTEEN, FOURTEEN, FIFTEEN, SIXTEEN, SEVENTEEN, EIGHTEEN, NINETEEN, & TWENTY.
Today's challenge: the actor you would choose to play the main character in a movie adaptation of your WIP.
Oh man! I have wasted so much time thinking about this over the years! I mean, what author doesn't dream of their book getting its own movie adaptation?
But, even though I have thought about it a lot, I have no idea which actor I'd like to see take on the role of Keegan, the main character in my Tales of the Wovlen series.
I have actors picked out for nearly every character in my series, but Keegan has me stumped. He has his own face in my mind, one that can't just be picked out from a crowd of actors. Keegan is special. I'm not even sure what actor I'd choose for his voice if I were to do an audio book with voice actors. Maybe Chris Pratt? Or Chris Pine? What about Chris Evans? Not Chris Hemsworth! No sir. No way. I'll save his gorgeous voice for a dragon! Yum!
What's your opinion? Who'd you'd like to see play Keegan in a live action movie?
Oh boy! Now that I've started thinking about this again, I should do a blog post about all the different actors I'd like to see play my characters in a movie!
Don't forget to check out the previous challenges: ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, & EIGHT.
Today's challenge is: Your favorite character from a book not written by you.
What? REALLY? Are you kidding me? I have way too many favorite books with awesome characters in them to be able to pick out just one favorite character.
Perhaps I should just make a list?
Lord of the Rings – Olórin, Mithrandir, Incánus, Tharkûn, Greyhame, Old Greybeard, the Grey Pilgrim, Stormcrow, the White Rider, Láthspell, Servant of the Secret Fire, Wielder of the Flame of Anor, Ring-bearer, and Elf-friend - Gandalf the Grey. He is my all time favorite.
The Chronicles of Narnia – Oh gee…. wow…. so many characters, so little time… since Aslan probably doesn't count, because he is everybody's favorite, I’ll go with Reepacheep the mouse and Bree the horse from The Horse and His Boy.
The Hunger Games – Haymitch. Sure, he's always drunk, but he's got more brains than the rest of them put together in those sorry books. Okay, so, the Hunger Games aren't actually some of my favorite books. They seriously needed more dragons.
Dracula by Bram Stoker - Van Helsing. Van Helsing. Van Helsing. He's awesome, he's funny, he's Christian, he has difficulty with the English language, and he's the master at hunting vampires. Van Helsing is my total favorite.
Heroes of Ravenford – Glolindir the Elf, Seth the Halfling, and Aksel the Gnome. Those three rotate between being my favorites. If I feel ornery and just want to stab someone with a knife and a sarcastic comment (and have somebody laugh with me about it), Seth is my favorite buddy. If I feel like I'm surrounded by immature idiots and just need someone who understands how I feel, Aksel is my man. The rest of the time, Glo is my favorite. He's an elf who has a tendency to blow things up and start fires. Of course he's my favorite.
The Arrival by Dakota Kemp – Jaxom… always Jaxom. He's witty, he's funny, he's smart... I would seriously date Jax in a heartbeat. (For those of you who don’t know me, I don’t have any interest in a relationship and I don’t waste my time dating, so for me to say “I would date him” is a BIG thing. Fortunately for me, he’s fictional. Unfortunately for my poor mother, he’s fictional.)
Patrick F. McManus books – Rancid Crabtree.
Dragon Riders of Pern – Piemur from The Harper Hall Trilogy. He's the bomb!
Don't forget to check out the Other Challenges up to this point!
Today's Challenge: Your least favorite character out of all the characters you’ve ever written.
Oh gee. This one is hard. Honestly! I like all my characters in My Book, even the nasty ones.
This would seriously be a toss-up between Demetrius - the bad guy who killed my main character’s father - and Keegan, the main character.
Yes. My main character is one of my least favorite characters. He can be such an idiot! And talk about being a whiney baby ALL. THE. TIME…. gag. But, despite that, I still love him.
Now that I really think about it, I think Demetrius is really my least favorite. He’s just downright, flat out nasty and revolting. He’s a coward, he’s a thief, he snarls, he fights dirty, he’s arrogant, and on top of it all, he’s not very pretty to look at.
So, yes, Demetrius is my least favorite character. In fact, he makes Keegan look mighty good!
If you haven't already, be sure to check out DAY ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE & SIX of this challenge!
Today's challenge is: Your favorite character out of all the characters you’ve ever written.
This is really hard. It would either be Pharrgon the regal dragon, Walneff Feldost the riddling prophet, Gillion the Jester, or Vliron Nightstalker the rogue assassin. If you’ve read my first book, then don’t worry - you haven’t met Gillion or Vliron yet. They are introduced in book #2, which is coming out really soon (No, really! It really is! I swear!).
Trust me when I say that Gillion and Vliron are AWESOME. Because, they really are awesome. And you don’t have to take my word for it. You can ask any of the testers who have pre-read the 2nd book (or parts of it). I have heard that they think Gillion and Vliron are awesome, though, they are starting to split into teams on who they think is more awesome - Team Gillion and Team Vliron.... my awesome characters may end up starting a fan war....
Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes – favorite character.
If I judge by which character is fun to write, I think Gillion would be my favorite. He is such a cut up! If I want something funny said or done, Gillion is my man. If I want something crazy or spastic done, Gillion is also my man. If I want someone to make some awesome ninja moves and kill monsters Legolas style, all while smiling and cracking jokes, Gillion is definitely my man.
However, on the other end of the spectrum, I've had a lot of fun with Vliron. He is just the opposite of Gillion. If I want somebody to do or say something mean and cold, Vliron is my man. If I want somebody other than Pharrgon to scare the monsters, Vliron is my man. If I want someone to be a suspicious, sneaky, and befuddling character that the reader likes one minute and hates the next, Vliron is also my man. If I want someone to take a really bad beating..... then Keegan is my man. Though, Vliron has taken some really nasty ones as well.
Picking a favorite character is impossible. I like them all for different reasons. I like writing them and learning their styles. I like torturing them and seeing how they respond. I like killing them too.
Yes. I know. I have issues. I plan to capitalize on that though!
Would any of you be interested in buying one of these T-shirts should I start an online shop?:
Hey! This is going to be a really fun challenge today, but don't forget to check out DAY ONE, TWO, THREE, and FOUR if you haven't been keeping up with this challenge so far.
Today's challenge is: Your protagonist is somehow transported to this world, meets you, and learns that you are responsible for creating his/her world. What is the first thing he/she would say or do after learning this fact?
Well..... I'm doomed.
Keegan is technically my protagonist in Tales of the Wovlen (he's such an idiot, but we won't get into that). If he found out that I was the person who caused the red dragon to kick his people out of their kingdom, turning them into nomads (the life he was born into), and that I wrote the prophecy about the Dragon's Son, picked him for the job, and then sent the army that massacred his friends and family....... Yeah, he'd try to chop off my head. And yes, I'd scream and run like a little girl. He may be an idiot, but he gets ugly when he's angry, and I have a highly developed sense of survival.
If Pharrgon (the dragon) was with Keegan, though, he would be more understanding. He'd see that I created the safe forest for him to hide in, all the wonderful creatures for him to enjoy, put Keegan in his life, and made him the formidable beauty that he is. He would try to help Keegan see the positive side to all of that, and he would certainly keep Keegan from chopping my head off.
There is also one other delicate little thing that Pharrgon would be thankful to me for, but I can't mention her right now because...
Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone! Make sure to wear green, or you'll get pinched (that's what happens in my house)!
By the way, don't forget to check out DAY ONE and DAY TWO of this challenge, if you missed them.
So, today's challenge is: a trope in your genre that gets on your nerves.
I'll be honest; I had to look up what "trope" meant.
Trope - a: a word or expression used in a figurative sense : figure of speech
Ooookay. A cliche! I got it now. Why didn't you just say so?
So, what is a cliche in my genre (fantasy) that gets on my nerves? I have no idea. Cliches very, very rarely get on my nerves. There is something about the predictable that makes it familiar, like an old friend, and I like that.
Thinking about it now, there is one cliche in fantasy that, only recently, I have come to find a little annoying. It is the super strong, tough, battle hardened, young female characters.
In most of the fantasy books I have read, the female characters are either warriors, assassins, mages, barbarians, or some other type of Xena Warrior Princess or Red Sonja "bad-A". Plus, they are always young and hot. Now, I'm not saying that tough, young, hot chicks are bad or unrealistic. I'm a tough, young, hottie if I say so myself, but not all women are young, hot warriors. Some are gentle and delicate - the healer, and the priestess. Some are quiet, regal, and proud - the queen, the duchess, and the farmer's wife. Some are fun-loving and flirty - the bar maid, the gypsy girl, and the merchant's daughter. And don't forget about the sassy boss - the cook, the store keeper's wife, and the governess. Not all women are Xena warrior princess, or Lessa the dragon rider, or Arya the elfin princess. Also, battle hardened warriors are definitely NOT young and hot. They are beautiful in their own way, but they have many scars and they are tired and worn thin, because they have seen many, many gruesome battles.
The only reason this cliche has started to bug me is because of the reviews a friend was getting on his first book (The Heroes of Ravenford by F.P. Spirit). I LOVED his book. I adore one of the female characters introduced in it. But many of the reviewers who read it were upset because of the "lack of strong female characters".
Excuse me? What in the cube kingdom of gelatinous are you talking about? What happened to the "stop using cliches" sermon?
Everyone wants "fresh content", but as soon as one of their favorite cliches are avoided, they throw a fit.
I guess what actually gets on my nerves in the fantasy genre is the readers. Authors are always getting preached at to create original stories free of cliches. But then they get bashed if they publish a book without cliches.
Shut up, you picky readers! Either read the book and enjoy it, or go write your own. Then let's see how well you handle criticism from other readers like yourself who love/hate/love/hate/love/hate cliches.
OH! And one other thing that annoys me about the fantasy genre: NOT ENOUGH DRAGONS.
When I read a fantasy book, and there aren't any dragons, I feel just like this chick from Game of Thrones:
So, this is my first ever video/YouTube book review, and I pretty much stumbled and staggered all the way through it. I got better toward the end, I think, but... yeah. I left out what Genre it is (Fantasy) and I didn't read the "blurp" on the back *Facepalm*.
Needless to say, if you have any tips on making a really good book review on YouTube, TELL ME! I will take any and all tips and suggestions (even if it's something along the lines of "shut yer pie hole and stick to writin' stuff... just be advised that I can throw pie as well as eat it).
Anyway, here is THE ARRIVAL (<--- Amazon Affiliate Link):
When a rash of mysterious and brutal attacks throughout the Hechani Sea shatters tenuous relations, the city-states erupt into a destructive war. Embroiled in the conflict, young Atian officer Kelvar Alexandros is determined to protect his men and his country in the looming trials, despite his growing concern that the enemy may not be as evil as he assumed.
Meanwhile, Mistress Telaine Le Fay, sorceress of Gothrond, is dispatched to investigate the hostilities. Her mission is to discover the roots of the conflict and negotiate a peace settlement. The situation proves unclear, however, and she finds herself inextricably tangled in a web of lies, desperately searching for an elusive truth.
Telaine’s past mentor, the excitable intellectual, Jax, has a problem of his own. His studies have led him to a discovery that could have dire consequences, and he is determined to discover if the threat he fears is indeed real.
In the desert sands of the Great Waste, an adventurous young man named Tor longs for something more than his mundane, everyday scramble for subsistence. Little does he know, Jarwulf, the infamous Blood Berserker from the north, and his mercenary band will soon arrive in his village – and sweep him off to a life he dared not even imagine.
Amidst the tide of darkness rising in Vrold, the only hope may be an unlikely alliance, but evil is rarely obvious. It is a subtle force hiding in plain sight, and the truth is hard to find when even heroes can fall prey to its malevolent will...
As I've been editing book 2 of Tales of the Wovlen, I've also been chopping out unnecessary scenes. The reason for this is the same reason for "deleting" scenes in a movie: the movie is shorter, the story flows more smoothly and the action keeps rolling. It just makes the overall experience for the audience better.
The only difference between a movie and a book is that one can't generally buy or sell a book of deleted scenes, whereas, with a movie, you can purchase the "directors cut" or "extended edition", or get a DVD with special features and deleted scenes. This fact makes if very painful for an author of books. We are cutting pieces of time and effort off our darling, and no one will ever see them. Ultimately, this is for the greater good of the book. Deleting scenes will keep critics happy and fans will never know what they're missing. But it still hurts.
Thankfully, though, there is a solution: I can share these deleted scenes with fans via my blog!
As a special treat, I am going to share one such scene with you today (even though, as of today's date, the book isn't published yet).
This deleted scene comes from Chapter 3 of The Dragon's Due, book 2 in the #TalesoftheWovlen series. As you will be able to guess by reading it, Keegan, our beloved hero, is already getting on everyone's nerves. Saul, Alia and Brainna express their frustration over the situation, and Walneff tries to put it into perspective for them.
The reason I cut this scene out is because it took away from Keegan and the overall sullenness of the chapter. I really liked it, because it lightened the mood, but the mood change is jarring and I don't think the reader needs any help getting things into perspective. They are in Keegan's head most of the time anyway, so they will either resonate with his attitude or they will identify with Saul who is asking "Can I just punch the snot out of Keegan now?"
Without further ado, here is the deleted scene - Frustrations.
Alia cleared her throat, dipped a spoon into a pot over the fire and stirred the contents. "I think it's safe to say I'm also growing very tired of Keegan's attitude." She said, which put Saul back into his flustered mood.
"He’s acting like he is the only one who has suffered through anything!" Saul huffed, pacing angrily "He does not seem to realize we have also suffered the loss of our friends and family, we are being hunted by the same beasts as him, we are as displaced in this world and as involved in all of this prophecy mess as he is!" He kicked a broken tree branch against a tree.
Walneff sighed. “Saul, try to understand how Keegan is feeling right now. He has learned that, because of his existence, hundreds of people, his friends and family, were tortured and murdered. He has also learned that thousands of people now depend on him to fulfill his part of prophecy. How would you react if your shoulders were suddenly saddled with the responsibility of saving an entire land from an unknown enemy? How would you hold under the realization you had been destined to become the savior, and later on king, of your people? What would your feelings, your reactions be when you learned everything in your past made your future, and the future itself depends on you and the choices you make?” Walneff watched as Saul’s face fell and grew somber.
The tall man uncrossed his arms and lowered them to his sides. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it.
Walneff dipped his chin, keeping his eyes on Saul’s face. “More than you can understand is resting itself on Keegan’s shoulders right now.”
Saul nodded. “I- I know,” he scratched the back of his head again “I hadn’t thought of it… not in that way.”
“The least we can do is to be patient with him and support him in any way possible.” Alia said, sorrow caressing her face. “I should have been the most understanding of all. I am his sister.”
Walneff nodded with a gentle smile before reaching into his cloak, pulling out his pipe, and filling it. “Wisely said, Alia, my dear.” he stooped down to the fire and pulled out a smoldering stick to light his pipe with “I might add, none of this is an excuse for Keegan’s sore behavior. And, I must also confess, I too have grown weary of it.” He puffed on his pipe and lowered himself to sit on a log “His grumpy behavior really has been putting a damper on my generally cheerful demeanor, and that makes my bones ache.”
Saul grinned as he looked at the old man with a raised eyebrow. “Cheerful demeanor? I believe Keegan would disagree, even if he were in a good mood. He thinks you're always grumpy.”
Walneff looked up at Saul and his diamond blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “Does he now? How interesting! Because I have the exact opinion of him.” The girls giggled, causing a grin to turn up the corners of Walneff's mouth, his eyes sparkling all the more. "Ah, well, I heard a saying once that could be applied to this situation I suppose: 'it takes one to know one'." The girls giggled again and Walneff continued to puff on his pipe in silence.
Author of the fantasy series, Tales of the Wovlen, Kathryn spends a great deal of time in the world of her imagination, having tea with fire breathing dragons, writing books on flying space ships, and practicing her mad scientist laugh with gusto. However, on occasion,she returns to this world just to play with her dog and blog about her fun.
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