Geetha Krishnan's Blog, page 18
October 31, 2018
Anadaria: The Search for Ameliana
An unexpected Quest to find Ameliana causes Prince Xantor of Esipiona to leave his home and face the unknown. His ultimate destination, Hilltop on the border of the Jungle Elf Kingdom of Galigaria. His path lies across the perilous Ruined Mountains, and into the vast wilderness of Dasteria. He has to face fearsome Grizzlers and ferocious felines, dangerous wolvines and crafty Boonias on his way to Hilltop, but he cannot even anticipate his most dangerous enemy.
The First book of the much anticipated series, Anadaria: The Search for Ameliana by Marty Noye is finally here.
To buy the paperback, click here
To buy the Kindle Edition, click here
You can also check out their facebook page and Youtube channel
October 28, 2018
Magazines and Writing Contests for Sci Fi and Fantasy Writers
Writing is hard, and to make a living out of it doubly so. However, it is even more so for those who write short stories. Those who write novels and novellas have more options than those who dabble in short fiction. All of us have a few short pieces tucked away that we don’t know what to do with. They’re too short and too few in number to be published, and we just don’t feel like writing a few more, because we have to work on that masterpiece of a novel whose characters won’t let us sleep. So, what do we do with them? The answer is simple: Submit to a writing contest, or a magazine. There are magazines that pay writers for their works. All you need to make sure is to follow their guidelines, go through a back issue or so to ensure that your work is the…
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October 20, 2018
World Building
An informative article
Every fantasy writer knows the importance of world building- and also the difficulty of it. The idea of creating a whole new world from scratch can be daunting, but also fun. World building is an area where you can let your imagination run wild. You want creatures that fly without wings? Why not? You want blue trees and a red moon? No problem. Whatever you want, you can create. You are the God of this world, its creator.
World building can also be problematic, if you don’t have a clear idea in your head. You have to make your world detailed enough for the reader, and yet not so detailed that it derails the plot. You need a history for your world, geographical features, flora, fauna, and what not. What about the protagonist of your story? Is he/ she human? Elvish? Some other unknown race that you’ve invented?
There are…
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Book Promo
Free book promo ending soon. Grab your copies now!
October 19, 2018
October 16, 2018
Free Book Promo
Free book promo (kindle edition) is now active. Please buy, read and review.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GZM6C6S.
October 14, 2018
Free Book Promo
Having a free book promo (kindle edition) from 16th to 20th. Please buy, read and review
September 1, 2018
My new book in amazon
I’ve published the book I was posting here in amazon through KDP. Hope you all have a look. It’s also entered in the Kindle Storyteller contest, so I could use all the support I can get. Here’s the link:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1719986061
August 21, 2018
Thirty Seven
The camp where Pandu stayed with his family was neither silent nor still. Maids and attendants moved across the encampment, doing their daily tasks. It was mid afternoon, and the sun shone bright into the area that had been cleared of trees. The window shades of all the huts had been drawn and those of the royal family who were outside sat in the shade. Vidura sat on a tree stump, polished into a stool, and wondered about his next course of action.
It was hard to see Pandu being so stubborn. Vidura wondered if it was possible for him to despise him any more than he already did. He’d always known Pandu was a weakling, not fit to be King, but he’d never realized just how weak What was. What else was it but weakness that he should not even attempt to give his son his birthright? What else but weakness would cause a man to deprive his son of his rights because he didn’t want to create a dissension in the family? What was Pandu so afraid of? What if it created dissension? Did he not know that there were things worth fighting for? What sort of Kshatriya was he? Conflict was not something a Kshatriya should be afraid of.
When the children were born, and Pandu was hesitant, Vidura had hoped it was a temporary phase. He had hoped that in time, Kunti might be able to persuade him. He was wise enough to stay out of it, knowing that any attempt on his part to bring his brother to his senses would only lead him to do the opposite. But the time for such wisdom was past. Yudhistira was turning six the next month, and it was time to start his formal education. What sort of education was he going to get in this forest? But all his representations were of no use. Pandu remained unmoved. He would not lay claim to the throne on behalf of his son. Yudhistira was a gentle and soft spoken child. He was better off in the forest than the palace where he would have to change into mean and cunning.
Vidura wished he could open his brother’s eyes. Yudhistira might be soft spoken, but he was already cunning and manipulative, thanks to his mother’s training. But even Yudhistira’s tricks had not availed them. Vidura knew that Yudhistira wanted to go to Hastinapura. Kunti had told him enough stories to make him want to go. He did not yet know what it meant to be King, but he was not averse to the idea. Bheema would follow where Yudhistira led. But how could Yudhistira lead, if Pandu would not let him? Vidura knew he would need to take drastic measures. It was true he had other sons from his wife, but none of them had any chance of becoming King. No matter what happened, neither he nor his sons would ever be considered for the throne. That had been made clear to him over time. But Yudhistira, though born of him, was legally Pandu’s son. He could be King, given the opportunity.
Vidura looked at Pandu where he sat, one boy on each knee. He was smiling. He looked happy and contented. Vidura wondered again what kind of coward he was. Madri sat at a distance, watching him with an angry look on her face. It must kill her that Pandu chose Kunti to bear children and not her. But Vidura had no regrets. He had no desire for Madri. Kunti on the other hand… even now, his desire for her was as strong as ever. He’d hoped that she would not have conceived from the night they spent together, but it was a vain hope. She had conceived which made it unnecessary for him to visit again. He knew that Pandu was not happy with his subsequent visits once the children were born. The rules of Niyoga dictated that he keep his distance, but he had told Pandu that there was nothing to prevent him from taking an interest in the boys since, by law, they were his nephews.
Nephews! Yudhistira looked like an amalgamation of his parents. He had Vidura’s brows and chin and his mother’s eyes and the high cheekbones were also from her. For the first time, Vidura was glad Pandu and he were brothers, and their features similar enough that Yudhistira’s appearance would pass scrutiny by anyone. Bheema, on the other hand looked more like his maternal uncle. Vidura had not met Vasudeva, but he had heard him described. Bheema had the Yadu features, and in a way, that was fortunate, for, someday his brother might need allies, and the Yadus were powerful. Vasudeva’s son had slain Kamsa, the King of the Yadus, and now, the Yadus were governed by a council. It was rumoured that Kamsa’s father-in-law, Jarasandha was harassing them, but so far, the Yadus had held their own. Vidura knew he would need to pay attention to what was happening in Mathura.
Someone cleared their throat, and Vidura shaded his eyes as he looked up. Kunti stood there, looking at him with that mixture of contempt and revulsion in her expression. He indicated to the ground next to the stump where he sat.
“No need to loom over me,” he said.
Her lips thinned, but she bit back whatever retort had risen to her lips, as she sank down gracefully next to him.
“You talked to him today.”
“Since you failed to persuade him, I thought I’d take a hand.”
“And how did that go?”
He shrugged. “He’s an obstinate man.”
“That’s one way to put it,” she smoothed the front of her angavastra. “He never denies the child anything. I was hoping he would be able to persuade him.”
“That didn’t happen, obviously.”
“I don’t think he can be persuaded,” Kunti said, and he could hear the resignation in her voice. It angered him, that she would give up so easily.
“So, you’re giving up?” he asked, more sharply than he meant to.
“What else is there to do?” she asked bitterly. “I cannot force him, I cannot persuade him, and neither can anyone else. There’s nothing to be done.”
Vidura was silent. He was not ready to accept defeat so easily. If Pandu could not be persuaded, he would need to be removed. Once he was dead, his widows and children could be returned to Hastinapura without any questions asked. But he would give Pandu one more chance. If he failed to listen once more, he would get rid of Pandu. It wasn’t as if anyone was going to mourn him. Vidura did not know how he reached the decision, but having made it, he was determined not to delay further. Yudhistira had already spent enough time in the forest. Vidura would ensure that he did not spend any more time here than was absolutely necessary. He knew well enough not to tell Kunti his decision. It might be good to have her help, but he would manage by himself. If he could poison Gandhari in the palace, Pandu in the forest would be no matter. All he had to do was to ensure that the poison would be undetected and that the death should appear natural. If any foul play were to be suspected, Kunti’s mind would immediately jump to him. And whilst he knew that she had no affection for Pandu, but she had a strong sense of duty, and he could not be certain she would see things his way.
July 24, 2018
Thirty Six
Vasushena was late that day returning home. It wasn’t because Bakula held him up. In fact, Bakula had left, though he had not given any indication to Vasushena the previous day. Vasushena had searched for him all morning before returning home despondently. He could not believe that Bakula had left just like that. Vasushena had not told anyone about Bakula. He had lied to his father about why he could not learn how to mend wheels, to drive a chariot and to ride a horse during the mornings. He had starved in order to take food to Bakula, and yet, in the end, the man had left without even telling him. A part of him knew that Bakula had helped him as much as he could, that the man was perhaps not necessary to his continued education, but that was not the point. Bakula had betrayed his trust when he left in secret, without a word. And that was a new experience for Vasushena. He had never come across someone who broke a word so casually. It bothered him. For the first time, he regretted not asking Bakula who he really was. After all, someone had been after him. What if it was the soldiers? What if Bakula was a thief? Or an assassin?
“Where were you?” Atiratha asked, when he reached home. “I’ve been waiting for you. Have you forgotten that today I don’t have to work? We could have spent the entire day learning.”
“I’m sorry father,” he apologized, not wanting to tell another lie, and yet, not wanting to tell the truth either. “I shall not do it again. We can learn in the morning from tomorrow, if you prefer.”
Atiratha looked at his son with troubled eyes. There was something bothering his child. It was very evident to him. But he didn’t want to pry. His son was growing up, and he might not appreciate his father wanting to know every detail of his life. Whatever it was, Vasushena would tell him when he was ready. Or he would not tell him at all. Either way, he would not pry.
“Go and have your bath,” he said. “Today, we will not be having any lessons. We’ll start tomorrow morning.”
Vasushena did not even ask why. He simply nodded and made his way to the river. It was still hot, but the river was not still. Though the current was not very strong at their bathing ghat, he could see the ripples on the surface. There was a strong wind blowing. The ghat was deserted, which suited him. He did not want to make small talk or to pretend to be cheerful for his friends. He was not cheerful. And he doubted if anything would make him feel cheerful today.
“You’re back,” his mother smiled at him as he entered the house, fresh from his bath. “Has your father told you the news yet?”
“What news?”
She ruffled his hair, though he was already taller than her. “You’re going to have another brother. Or perhaps a sister.” her smile was radiant.
Vasushena stared at her. He had not expected it. A brother or a sister. He grinned. It was the best news ever.
“Does Sangrama know yet?”
Radha shook her head. “I didn’t want him to know till I’ve told you. You’re the eldest. And it will be your job to take care of your younger brothers.”
“Or sister,” Vasushena said, still grinning. He could not stop. He felt as if there was a bubble inside of him, a large bubble filled with laughter and joy. It filled his chest till it hurt, and yet it felt good. He could not remember the last time he had felt like this. Perhaps the day Sangrama was born. He hoped that his new brother would not be as irritating as Sangrama, but his hopes weren’t high. But still, he would take care of him or her, just as he took care of Sangrama.
“When will he be born?” he asked. “And what shall we name him?”
“There’s time enough for that,” Radha laughed. “He won’t be born for an ayana yet, maybe longer.”
“But we can still have toys made,” he said. “I can ask Asmita. His father knows how to make toys made of wood.”
“Let’s wait till he’s born,” Radha said. “It’s bad luck to have things made for the baby before his birth. We don’t want to tempt fate.”
“Okay,” Vasushena nodded. “But there has to be something we can do which isn’t bad luck.”
“Of course, there is. You can take care of Sangrama, and you can help me with some of my work if you want. And you can also help your father, so he won’t be under too much stress.”
“Okay,” he said. “But do I have to take care of Sangrama? He’s a bit irritating.”
“Oh you naughty boy,” she laughed, pretending to box his ears. “What sort of big brother are you?”
Vasushena grinned. “The best kind. You know it.”
“Then, you go and bring your brother back from the playground, so he can have his bath, and we can all have lunch.”
“Must I?” Vasushena asked in a despairing tone.
Radha brandished a ladle and he laughed, and ran out. He made his way to the playground, feeling happy. What did it matter if Bakula left? He had taught him enough. He would practice everyday till he found another teacher. His father could teach him what he had to in the mornings, but the afternoons and evenings were all his, and no one could take them from him. He knew his mother was only partly joking when she said he would need to take care of his brother and help around the house, but even with all that, there should still be enough time to practice. He was feeling that he was indeed fortunate. Whatever or whoever Bakula was, he’d taught him. How many boys in his position would have been fortunate to get a teacher at all? But he had been so fortunate. His father, knowing his real interest did not tell him not to pursue it. Vasushena might be young, but not foolish. He knew that most Sutas would have tried to discourage their sons from such dreams, but not Atiratha. Gratitude welled in Vasushena at the thought of his father. He was fortunate to have parents who not just loved him, but accepted him for what he was, no matter it was different from what they knew or expected. And now, he was going to have another sibling. He was indeed blessed. He could not believe he had spent half the day feeling sorry for himself.
