Lazarian Wordsmith's Blog, page 14
September 7, 2015
I could be "Chuffed" that I'm in good company.
Wordery are listing The Knowledge Seekers & The Land Of Cudhabeen alongside Heaney and Yeats in their listings.
Both were very good poets - I'm not so that's a mystery to me.
Also someone who got a free copy on a Goodreads Giveaway, or someone in Coventry who sold a free copy, is offering it for sale, on eBay. Serves them right - they want a fiver and so far no one is bidding.
So should I be elated of sad?
Since I am working on my next book "The Backroom Boys" I will be sad until I type "The End".
The End
I feel beter now!
September 1, 2015
I don't know what I will call the next book - this might be the start.
Prologue
"What is the name of this Kip again? Bally Bog Hole?"
"You know well Cardinal that it is not. But you always called it that. You used that name to upset your brother."
"Well he's gone now, so no matter!"
"He got some peace Cardinal. He was happy here."
"That scoundrel was never happy, except when he was rooting in a cave, or another hole in the ground, looking for The Grail, or whatever he called it - some other lost relic - like himself. He was lost as well. Why didn't he just be a priest and get on with his duties."
"Well you know the know-alls, including you, would not let him do that. All he wanted was a bit of peace, after the other thing. He was hounded and driven to distraction by his own community."
"He was obsessed with it. Is anyone at this wake going to offer me a drink? Get me one Monsignor - a large Irish."
This time Joseph, stay dead. The church can't deal with another resurrection.
Chapter 1
Joe Mara, was a missioner of the Sacred Heart of Jesus posted in the Philippines when he was kidnapped. Ironically by some young men he had instructed in the Catholic faith.
He was held for a month, while his captors dragged him around the jungle while trying to outrun the Militia and collect a phantom ransom. The order he belonged to had no funds, those that they had were given over for the education of the natives and the construction of churches and community halls.
On that faithful Friday, before Easter, when the rebels were close to being discovered, they decided to execute the priest. One of his former pupils knew the devotion Joe had to The Sacred Heart, and his fondness for chanting "Sacred heart of Jesus I place all my trust in Thee", decided to shoot him in the heart, to "Burst The Bleeding Heart of Jesus".
He stood Joe at the edge of a cliff, above a tree filled ravine, and then expertly aiming pulled the trigger. The gun, a relic of the first World War, not maintained, with a dirty barrel, fractured, burning his face and throwing him backwards.
The barrel top, and forward sight, flew in Joe's direction struck him, bursting through his cassock and bounced off his chest, but not before tearing a long gash. He was blown backwards by the force and his body fell over and down, into the forest below.
Satisfied that the priest was dead, either from a wound, or from the fall, the rebels fled to avoid the perusing military.
An hour later, as dusk approached they halted in their flight. Turning from the setting sun, they began to explore the land behind for signs of the perusing soldiers.
The were first astonished, then horrified when in the distance, they saw the priest, high in a forest tree, standing arms outstretched: his bleeding heart emblazoned by the setting sun, a red glow spreading over his white cassock, resurrected and mocking them.
"What is the name of this Kip again? Bally Bog Hole?"
"You know well Cardinal that it is not. But you always called it that. You used that name to upset your brother."
"Well he's gone now, so no matter!"
"He got some peace Cardinal. He was happy here."
"That scoundrel was never happy, except when he was rooting in a cave, or another hole in the ground, looking for The Grail, or whatever he called it - some other lost relic - like himself. He was lost as well. Why didn't he just be a priest and get on with his duties."
"Well you know the know-alls, including you, would not let him do that. All he wanted was a bit of peace, after the other thing. He was hounded and driven to distraction by his own community."
"He was obsessed with it. Is anyone at this wake going to offer me a drink? Get me one Monsignor - a large Irish."
This time Joseph, stay dead. The church can't deal with another resurrection.
Chapter 1
Joe Mara, was a missioner of the Sacred Heart of Jesus posted in the Philippines when he was kidnapped. Ironically by some young men he had instructed in the Catholic faith.
He was held for a month, while his captors dragged him around the jungle while trying to outrun the Militia and collect a phantom ransom. The order he belonged to had no funds, those that they had were given over for the education of the natives and the construction of churches and community halls.
On that faithful Friday, before Easter, when the rebels were close to being discovered, they decided to execute the priest. One of his former pupils knew the devotion Joe had to The Sacred Heart, and his fondness for chanting "Sacred heart of Jesus I place all my trust in Thee", decided to shoot him in the heart, to "Burst The Bleeding Heart of Jesus".
He stood Joe at the edge of a cliff, above a tree filled ravine, and then expertly aiming pulled the trigger. The gun, a relic of the first World War, not maintained, with a dirty barrel, fractured, burning his face and throwing him backwards.
The barrel top, and forward sight, flew in Joe's direction struck him, bursting through his cassock and bounced off his chest, but not before tearing a long gash. He was blown backwards by the force and his body fell over and down, into the forest below.
Satisfied that the priest was dead, either from a wound, or from the fall, the rebels fled to avoid the perusing military.
An hour later, as dusk approached they halted in their flight. Turning from the setting sun, they began to explore the land behind for signs of the perusing soldiers.
The were first astonished, then horrified when in the distance, they saw the priest, high in a forest tree, standing arms outstretched: his bleeding heart emblazoned by the setting sun, a red glow spreading over his white cassock, resurrected and mocking them.
August 10, 2015
In an attempt to buy the Inflatable Boat before Christmas - I have a New Sale Price
That is a terrible headline - it makes no sense at all, every book price is a sale price - yer loosin' it Pat.
I had one of those birthdays over the weekend and apart from the family no one wished me well.
A lot of people know the date, well my phone company does, and last year wished me Happy Birthday. My bank knows - Nada. My Hospital as well, and my doctor - no wishes from either of them.
It's amazing in Ireland now when you ring the health service and other service providers, before you have the last syllables of your name out - they are barking Date Of Birth. I think this personal information is protected by Data Protection as personal data , and that some other reference code or number should be used instead.
The present system is just a lazy attempt at record keeping. After all, who would forget their birthday, like the so-'n-sos forgot mine. But more importantly, is there any chance another person with my surname would have been born on the same date as me. It's unlikely. Anyway I will discuss that with my brother and sister - The Triplets people call us - when they are being civilised.
One of these days I will tell them I don't know the date - as I was hatched from an egg.
But anyhow, as we say over here my book In The Wicker Wood Where Secrets are Buried has had a price decrease.
It's now $3.00 for the Kindle and $5.00 for the Paperback, UK prices are £1.99 and £4.99 and in Ireland and the rest of the EU, depending on what VAT rate is applied , it should be around €2.99 Kindle, and €3.99 for the Paperback.
Great value for a good book - not a great book, (as Eamon Dunphy - a minor TV personality over here - he also played soccer - might say), but the reviews mention that it's a good book.
As to my birthday I wanted a song request played on The Ronan Collins show on RTE - George Burns singing "I Wish I was Eighteen Again."
I had one of those birthdays over the weekend and apart from the family no one wished me well.
A lot of people know the date, well my phone company does, and last year wished me Happy Birthday. My bank knows - Nada. My Hospital as well, and my doctor - no wishes from either of them.
It's amazing in Ireland now when you ring the health service and other service providers, before you have the last syllables of your name out - they are barking Date Of Birth. I think this personal information is protected by Data Protection as personal data , and that some other reference code or number should be used instead.
The present system is just a lazy attempt at record keeping. After all, who would forget their birthday, like the so-'n-sos forgot mine. But more importantly, is there any chance another person with my surname would have been born on the same date as me. It's unlikely. Anyway I will discuss that with my brother and sister - The Triplets people call us - when they are being civilised.
One of these days I will tell them I don't know the date - as I was hatched from an egg.
But anyhow, as we say over here my book In The Wicker Wood Where Secrets are Buried has had a price decrease.
It's now $3.00 for the Kindle and $5.00 for the Paperback, UK prices are £1.99 and £4.99 and in Ireland and the rest of the EU, depending on what VAT rate is applied , it should be around €2.99 Kindle, and €3.99 for the Paperback.
Great value for a good book - not a great book, (as Eamon Dunphy - a minor TV personality over here - he also played soccer - might say), but the reviews mention that it's a good book.
As to my birthday I wanted a song request played on The Ronan Collins show on RTE - George Burns singing "I Wish I was Eighteen Again."
July 16, 2015
Mad! I'm Gone Mad! Almost givin' it away by Counting Down - but it's really going up!
In The Wicker Wood is on a Kindle Countdown deal this week.....
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wicker-Wood-Where-Secrets-Buried-ebook/dp/B00U1SPJ3O/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=&qid=
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wicker-Wood-Where-Secrets-Buried-ebook/dp/B00U1SPJ3O/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=&qid=
July 13, 2015
In The Wicker Wood Goodreads Giveaway
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Goodreads Book Giveaway
In The Wicker Wood by Lazarian Wordsmith Giveaway ends July 31, 2015.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads. Enter Giveaway
I'm givin it away from 15July for 16 days.
Goodreads Book Giveaway
In The Wicker Wood by Lazarian Wordsmith Giveaway ends July 31, 2015. See the giveaway details at Goodreads. Enter Giveaway
I'm givin it away from 15July for 16 days.
July 6, 2015
She was looking for a dreamboat - I gave her nightmares.
I love my end of the week Friday Pint - Guinness. I enjoy the solitude of waiting for "The Settle". That few minutes when the swirling brown liquid turns into a black stack with a white cap-stone.
But, there she was, standing in front of me, digital poised to poke me in the chest to emphasise her words.
POKE, Thanks for the, POKE. Bloomin' nightmares, POKE. Even got out of bed, POKE, to check if the baby was still in the cot.
"Tasha, what are ya on about?" "The Book. I'm readin' it and it's givin' me nightmares!"
I stepped back waiting for another poking episode. " In The Wicker Wood?"
"YES!"
"Well stop reading it then."
"I will in me backside - I want to see if he gets what he deserves. Blooming Psycho!"
"Georgie?"
"No you, ya plonker, givin' me nightmares."
June 30, 2015
The Uncle has got it - by George he's got it..... Review of In The WIcker Wood....
Review of In The Wicker Wood on Amazon.... 4.0 out of 5 stars Horrible Criminal Tries to Make Good, June 22, 2015 By Uncle G Verified Purchase(What's this?) This review is from: In The Wicker Wood: Where Secrets Are Buried (Kindle Edition) Sordid tale of Irish tough guys who screw each other over in new and interesting ways while trying to make up for past sins. I enjoyed this story because it took place in Ireland and I haven't read a book set in Ireland (well I read Ulysses at the University but that was a whole different trip). There was just the right amount of street talk and street logic used by the characters to keep me on edge. I was very interested in, and yet scared shitless of, these mean bastards and the gritty underworld they inhabit. There were several times I wanted to double check the locks on the windows and doors in my house just thinking that there are despicable people like these loose on the streets. The plot at times is a bit stretched out but the motivation of the various characters (who include crooks, cops, priests and IRA rebels) kept me engaged and guessing. Also, I liked all the Irish nomenclature and phrases and customs that were normal to the author and the characters but were quaint and sometimes baffling to me.
June 29, 2015
Streets of Birdsong is flying into eStores
Well now you know where it can be purchased!
June 25, 2015
The Wrens have left the nest - I'm back in mine!
The man who laid or is that layed as in lay an egg, the wooden floor in My Office took half a day to complete the job. A similar room took me three days to sweat through. But bet Mr. Woodie, could not produce an e Book on Draft 2 Digital in the same time – half a day.
It's for sale now at all good e Book Book Sellers. The result is that I'm back in my writing nest again - at my desk - staring at the wall, as usual, waiting for the words to come..
It's for sale now at all good e Book Book Sellers. The result is that I'm back in my writing nest again - at my desk - staring at the wall, as usual, waiting for the words to come..
June 22, 2015
You can teach an Old Dog new tricks - it seems
Been hearing about Draft2Digital, recently. So I rooted in me drawers and found some "Works in Progress", and at least one of the stories, maybe two, perhaps three, are worthy of an airing.
Judge for yourselves:-
Streets of Birdsong - Stories from Ireland.
Available from Barnes & Noble, Scribd, Kobo, Inktera and others.
https://www.scribd.com/book/269366140/Streets-Of-Birdsong-Stories-from-Ireland
Judge for yourselves:-
Streets of Birdsong - Stories from Ireland.
Available from Barnes & Noble, Scribd, Kobo, Inktera and others.
https://www.scribd.com/book/269366140/Streets-Of-Birdsong-Stories-from-Ireland
