Lynn Flewelling's Blog

April 7, 2014

April 1, 2014

Lucky #7 Nightrunner book is out!
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Published on April 01, 2014 08:04 • 52 views

March 30, 2014

I've finally been able to replace my poor mangy old website!
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Published on March 30, 2014 11:26 • 79 views

March 11, 2014

Note: If you were announced as a winner of a book or the grand prize, please respond to this thread, and message me your address. I haven't heard from most of you. If you already sent me the info, please send again. That is all. You may now gaze and enjoy. ;)

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Published on March 11, 2014 13:41 • 74 views

January 7, 2014

Over the holidays I watched Disney's Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. The message in both that I got was: Fairies, no matter how well-intentioned, are disempowering and princes are pretty much useless.

In the Brother's Grimm versions Cinderella/Ashenputtel made her own magic with her great virtue. And Sleeping Beauty/Aurora/The Princess was a passive airhead and the prince didn't have to fight his way to her because he just happened to show up at the right time when the spell broke and the briar hedge receded on its own. In this case, I have to say I liked the Disney version better. Excellent evil fairy/dragon! But let's face it, the female fairies were the real heroes.

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Published on January 07, 2014 14:57 • 65 views

January 2, 2014

I'm in the midst of doing the final edit on the page proofs of Shards, which involves reading it closely from beginning to end. Just now I was reading of what someone was eating and it being lunch time, I decided it was time to eat. We just happened to have some sausage, Humbolt Fog cheese, carrots, and some really nice olives left over from Christmas. Voila! A lunch such as my characters might enjoy.

Nightrunner Lunch
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Published on January 02, 2014 11:27 • 108 views

December 24, 2013


Seregil: We've catalogued each entry and put each word in separate hats for drawing.

Micum: And a damn lot of cutting into strips it was!

Alec, impatiently: Thero, what is the lucky word?

Thero holds a delicate glass walnut on the palm of his left hand. Inside is a tightly rolled slip of parchment sealed with a tiny drop of green wax and the letter "A", for Adzriel, who chose and sent the word. He waves his crystal wand over it once, twice, thrice and the little container splits open. He picks out the rolled of parchment and places it in Alec's hand. The younger man eagerly breaks the seal and unrolls it.

Seregil: Well, talí? What is it?

Alec, laughing: The lucky word is . . . . Haba!

Seregil: You're joking.

Alec: Here, see for yourself, Haba!

Micum: So, here's the hat with the names of the folks who chose that word. Who will draw?

Seregil: Alec, you do the honors. Will each winner message Lynn your mailing address as soon as possible? Ready, boys?

Micum holds the hat high and Alec reaches up, feels about, and pulls out a strip of parchment. "And our grand prize winner, who will receive the complete signed set of the Nightrunner Series, including SHARDS OF TIME is . . .

!!! alarisiel333 !!!

Micum: And our six runners up, who will receive a signed copy of the book this spring, as soon as it is available to Lynn (which should be a bit earlier than it will be on the shelves!) are:


Seregil: Thanks to everyone who played with us! It was a pleasure hearing your thoughts. Please send Lynn your mailing address at: with the subject line: LJ CONTEST WINNER 2013

Alec: The happiest of holidays to you all, whatever you celebrate. We're getting ready to put out all the fires here in Rhiminee and attend the Mourning Night ceremony. Then? Well, games in the dark!
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Published on December 24, 2013 15:20 • 98 views

December 23, 2013

Tomorrow I'll be announcing the contest winners, so here's your Christmas snippet a little early. :) Enjoy.

A warder answered. The man was huge, tall and wide and a solid wall of muscle, Seregil judged. He shuddered inwardly at the thought of being at this fellow’s mercy.
The smell inside the madhouse was appalling, reeking of filth and human misery. He and Thero both pulled out handkerchiefs and covered their mouth and nose.
The lower floor was divided into two large, barred cells, one filled with a horrific assortment of men in all stages of decline, some naked, and some clearly starving to death. The other held an equally pitiful collection of women dressed in dingy, shapeless shifts. Most of them were asleep but those awake raised an outcry at Thero and Seregil’s approach and instantly the whole place was in an uproar. The inmates screamed, roared, sobbed. Dirty hands clawed at them through the bars on both sides.
Seregil exchanged a disturbed look with the wizard as the warder hurried them toward a stone stairway at the far end of the gauntlet; they’d been in less disturbing charnel houses. It was an unsettling reminder that Illior, the patron Immortal of wizards and nightrunners, also held sway over these mad wretches.
“Come on, then,” the warder shouted above the wailing and screaming. “The one you want’s upstairs.”
It was marginally better there, more like a prison, and quieter. Heavy black doors with tiny grates lined the long corridor. They were barred, rather than locked.
“How can such a small island produce so many lunatics?” asked Thero, cautiously taking his handkerchief away from his face.
“Most were shipped over from the Plenimaran mainland,” the warder replied. “It’s unlucky, you know, to hear or see the mad.”
“Where does that leave you?” Seregil asked.
The man grunted. It might have been a laugh. “Where you see me, my lord. There’s your man, third cell on the left.” He jerked a grimy thumb in that direction. “I’ll have to shut you in.”
“Is he violent?” asked Seregil.
“Now and then, my lord. I’d be real careful, if I was you.” He took a lamp from a niche in the wall and gave it to Seregil, then heaved the thick bar from the brackets and let them in to a tiny, airless cell that reeked of piss and fear.
A narrow stone shelf served as a bed, and a wild-eyed, unshaven man cowered there, clutching a blanket to his chest as he stared at them in terror. He was of middle years, muscular and bearded, but fear had clearly unmanned him. Seregil found a niche high in the wall next to him and set the lamp there. By its flickering light, he saw that the only other things in the room were a wooden pitcher and a large tin chamber pot.
Thero exchanged a look with Seregil; the wretched man before them didn’t look capable of violence.
“You have nothing to fear, Captain Sedge,” Thero said gently, remaining just inside the door.
Sedge blinked at him. “Captain?”
“Captain Sedge of the Governor’s Guard. That’s you. My name is Thero, a wizard from Skala, and this is my friend Baron Seregil. We’d like to help you, if we can.”
Sedge shrank back as if he wanted the stone wall to swallow him. “A wizard? Why have they sent a wizard? Oh please, no more sorcery!”
Signaling for Thero to remain by the door, Seregil slowly crossed the tiny cell and sat down on the end of the bed shelf, hands folded in his lap. “Did someone use sorcery on you?”
“No one believes me!” The man was trembling so hard Seregil could hear his teeth clicking together. “Lieutenant Phania was pulled—pulled—”
He choked and his eyes rolled up into his head as a sudden spasm took him. He tumbled off the bed and began flailing, back arched, spittle foaming between his lips as he beat the back of his head against the stone floor.
“Your belt, quickly!” Thero cried, springing forward to hold the man down.
Seregil pulled off his belt and pried the man’s jaws open to place the leather end between Sedge’s teeth to keep him from biting off his own tongue. “Is he an epileptic?”
“Who knows? Hold him down!”
Seregil threw himself across the man, and Thero gripped Sedge’s head between his hands to stop him from hurting himself any further. The man continued to buck and thrash, screaming hoarsely through clenched teeth. Thero gripped Sedge by the hair and managed to trace a hasty sigil on the man’s brow with his thumb, murmuring some spell under his breath. The mark writhed like a tiny eel, then disappeared in a little puff of malodorous steam.
“That’s not good, is it?” asked Seregil. “Put him to sleep, will you?”
Thero managed to grip the man’s head again, one hand pressed over his eyes and commanded, “Sleep.”
Sedge screamed and thrashed harder, throwing both the wizard and Seregil off.
Seregil grabbed Thero by the arm and pulled him back toward the door. “I think we’re only making things worse,” he shouted over the stricken man’s screams. “What did the smelly sigil mean?”
“That he’s probably not mad. Some sort of curse has been placed on him. Inside, he’s screaming for help.” Thero extended a hand in the frothing man’s direction and held his other out to Seregil. “Would you like to see what he sees?”
Seregil clasped Thero’s hand and was immediately surrounded by blood. It was smeared across the walls, dripped from the edge of the bed, and covered Sedge’s hands and face. Flies were thick in the room, crawling in the blood and over the man’s eyes and mouth. He and Thero looked hulking and demonic to him, with slitted pupils and blackened lips.
“Illior’s Light!” Seregil pulled his hand away. “That’s what he sees all the time?”
“Yes.” Thero looked down at the tormented man with pity in his pale eyes.
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Published on December 23, 2013 10:23 • 50 views
So, we saw Desolation of Smaug last night. I can certainly see why there are mixed reactions. I don't want to do any spoilers so I won't give details but will share my son Matt's summation: half WOW, half outraged declaration of "Jackson is writing his own fan fiction!" I have to agree. But the cast? WOW! Smaug? WOW!!!! As many others have said: Best dragon ever. The visuals? Definite WOW! The parts of the book that actually made it to the screen? Double WOW! The rest? Meh. But Martin Freeman makes it all worthwhile.
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Published on December 23, 2013 07:46 • 47 views

December 22, 2013

Apartfrom the scruff and eyebrows, this looks quite a lot like a certain friend of ours.

Oh, and just two days until the contest winner is revealed!

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Published on December 22, 2013 14:13 • 42 views