Lisa Hall-Wilson's Blog, page 15

It’s Not About You

When something bad happens to us, we question everything. Why did this happen? How could you [God] allow this? What did I do to deserve this? Those who are thoughtful or naturally deep thinkers might take this farther and ask: What do you want me to learn from this God?

What if that bad thing happened to you because somebody else needed to learn a lesson?

BAM!!

That’s not how Sunday sermons prepare us for trials, is it? Maybe getting fired for something you didn’t do was God trying to soften...

Leftovers

As a mom who works outside the home and also is a creative entrepreneur, there’s never enough hours or money. I’m always stealing time from one thing to meet a deadline on another thing. When I sit down in front of my laptop to write the stories on my heart, the job I feel I’ve been called to do, it’s always with the leftovers of my creativity, energy, time, and drive.

But Jesus can do miracles with leftovers, can’t he. We often fall into the trap of thinking in human terms of what’s possibl...

3 Gospel Messages in Logan

I have a bit of a problem with Christian books and movies. There is sometimes little room for ‘art’ because the audience has to be beat over the head with the moral or biblical message. Less than that repeated scourging, and audiences rise up in anger claiming the writer or creator of the work compromised on the faith message.

WHAT?!?

*face palm*

I saw the new Logan movie this weekend. Wow. Intended or not, the underlying Christian message was so clear. It’s more Lord of the Rings than Narnia...

How To Publish A Book In Canada

[image error]

I’ve had several people ask me what steps I went through to self-publish (Indie publish) my debut novel The Watched. I published on a shoestring budget ($400-$500 total). If you can hire a more experienced professional, always up your game that way.

There are many vanity presses out there who say they’re publishers. They will take your “publish” manuscript for a base price that may or may not include cover design, and then up-sell editing or a marketing package. Usually, you have to pay near...

The Watched: Not Goodbye

This is the final chapter of The Watched: Not Goodbye. Find all the chapters published so far here. Download the entire novel from a major retailer here.

[image error]

Edric stood to one side as Barric packed two horses for the journey to Sousterre. All round them, Pisidia was emptying. Aralyn sat by the dying fire, staring into the flames and hugging her cloak tight. She had spoken only a few hushed words to Lynna. She flinched when a man even looked at her.

His heart ached to see her vibrant enthusiasm...

The Watched: The Slegna Have Come

This is chapter 23 of The Watched: The Slegna Have Come. Find all the chapters published so far here. Download the entire novel from a major retailer here.

[image error]

 

Edric stood. He was not wrong in wanting to talk to Aralyn. His fear of losing her did not make him weak. Had she asked for him?

“Enough,” Cilix said. “Barric, go and fetch your daughters. Edric, put this aside and do your duty.”

No one but Cilix and Nara would dare speak to him so. Edric turned toward the fire as the Slegna Justus walked into the clearing with his sword drawn. Head and shoulders taller than a man, the Slegna carried a massive sword in his hand and a round shield on his back. His dark hair was tied back at the base of his skull.

Barric strode toward the tree where Aralyn waited. Cilix gripped Edric’s shoulders. “Whatever is going on between you two, set it aside. The Slegna have come as we asked.” He pushed him toward Justus. “Go and seek the counsel you prayed for.”

The others had prayed. He had sat there with his head bowed respectfully. Edric pushed aside his anger. He was the Keeper of the Prophecy. All he had to do was present his case to Justus, and Barric would have no recourse.

Edric walked straight up to the massive warrior, taller even than Tarek, and embraced him. “Justus, my old friend. I feared the King had not heard our prayers.”

“We have been fighting near Jabbok, but I came as soon as I could spare a moment. How fares everyone? You requested counsel?” He turned to the Slegna newly arrived, sword drawn. “Mursee, what news?”

“I came in answer to urgent prayer from one called Barric. I would speak with him.” Mursee searched the crowd but did not find the face he sought.

Edric ignored Mursee and spoke with Justus. “You heard of the attacks on those I watched over?”

Justus nodded. “Yes, I was engaged elsewhere when the purge took place. We all grieved over the loss of those precious voices.”

The men of Pisidia gathered around, creating a crowd five deep around the Slegna. The wind died as if the trees stilled in order to listen in. “I have been watching two others, hidden in secret in Ijon. Barric’s daughters.”

Justus’ brows shot up. “Two? So the rumours in the King’s court are true? This is good news.”  He sheathed his sword and folded his arms over his chest. “What weighs you down?”

Suddenly Edric wasn’t sure Justus was the best one to appeal to. Perhaps Onur? “I would ask the King for permission to marry Aralyn. Today. She was attacked by Feer and I wavered in my love for her for just a moment and now Barric …”

The crowd parted and Barric led Aralyn to the Slegna. Nara followed with Lynna. They were all dressed for travel. Lynna wore the dress he’d seen Nara stitching by the fire all day.

He stared at the dress Aralyn wore. It was a graduated blue, darker at the top and lightening toward the hem to mimic the sky. Shimmering silver leaves were embroidered in the fabric to depict leaves falling from the trees.

Aralyn was stunning—just as Callia should have been. But he did not wish for her in Aralyn’s place. Cilix and Nara had saved for months in order to purchase the dress as a wedding gift for Callia, to welcome her as a daughter. Nara had carried this with her all these years?  It was a dress for a noblewoman. Was Barric stepping up to his role as elder now?

Barric stood before Mursee. Lynna escaped Nara’s hold and ran to Mursee, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Where is the one who helped Aralyn? Who scared the bad man away?”

Mursee beamed. “It was our brother, Onur, you saw. He told me you were very brave.”

Barric beckoned her to him with a crook of his finger. He whispered in her ear and she stood quietly.

“Barric, bring your daughters here. Let me look at them,” Mursee said.

Edric tensed. The Slegna had been here? They had fought off Feer? They had not abandoned Pisidia? So why wait? Why let the rape happen? Why hadn’t any of them heard or been aware of the attack?

Barric tugged Aralyn forward and Lynna fairly bounced with excitement. The child’s reaction perplexed Edric. Most reacted with fear at seeing the giant warriors dressed for battle. What could she see that he could not?

Justus crouched next to Lynna. The Slegna traced the symbol of their people on her forehead. A blessing and a sign of protection. Barric thanked the Slegna with a nod.

Mursee stood before Aralyn. “Yes, this is the one the King mentioned to me, the one Feer attacked.” Mursee turned to Justus. “This is the one I’ve come to train.”

Barric’s gaze jerked to Mursee. “Train her?”

Mursee bowed his head and stood there silent for a moment. When he opened his eyes, he turned to the men assembled. “The war Kella foretold is coming. Feer gathers his forces in Calneh, and P’ryed has control of Ijon. The Entcynn march on Calneh, where the war will begin. We need Aralyn’s gift, and Lynna’s too, if we are to preserve our people.”

Edric’s gut twisted at the mention of the Entcynn, the race of warrior giants born of the enemy’s servants lying with women. He looked at Aralyn and his heart plummeted. He offered up a silent prayer. The first prayer he’d uttered in a long while. May it not be so.

Mursee took Aralyn’s hand in his own. “Your sister, Tavia, leads an uprising in Ijon. Your journey here was not in vain, but none remain who can teach you. So I have been sent.” He turned to Barric. “Take them to Sousterre.”

“But Sousterre fell,” Barric said.

“I will keep you. Leave today.” Mursee pressed his palm to Aralyn’s forehead before she could react. “She has been marked by Feer. Only she can cast it off, but she needs training she does not have. This will be a difficult journey.”

Justus cleared his throat and stepped close to Edric. “Brother, the King knows of your pure love for Aralyn and approves of your match, but you are needed elsewhere, and for now, she must train. A new marriage requires much attention. That is the only word I have for you.”

Justus raised his voice and spoke to the men of Pisidia. “All of you are called to Calneh. Edric is to lead you. There are some in Calneh who might yet join our cause.”

Edric’s shoulders drooped in defeat. He couldn’t look at Barric. This is why the devil had let him live, why Aralyn had been attacked. They wished to undermine his confidence, to destroy his trust in the King as he led the war to save Jabbok. Keep her safe, Godfæder.

Aralyn stood mute and stoic like a statue at Barric’s side. An empty shell. He wanted to take her in his arms and protect her from everything that might ever harm her. Her gaze seemed focused on some distant point only she could see. He had seen her like this before, after Oram would beat her.

“Can you fix her?” Lynna asked the Slegna and pointed at Aralyn.

Mursee glanced at Aralyn, then smiled at Lynna. “Little one, your faith is greater than that of any assembled here.” He put a hand on Barric’s shoulder. “We will keep Aralyn in the saddle and clear your paths of enemies. The rest is up to her.” Mursee ruffled Lynna’s hair. “But you keep your faith and remind her of all she has to live for. That will help.”

Lynna put her blanket up to her nose and smelled deep. Edric wondered what she was up to and marvelled at her courage at the same time.

Lynna shook Aralyn’s arm and forced her sister to pay attention to her. She offered up her blanket. Aralyn didn’t move. Lynna pressed the blanket to Aralyn’s stomach and held it there. “This always makes me feel safe,” Lynna said. “It smells like Fa.”

Aralyn tucked the blanket under her chin. “Bancung min freond lýtling,” she whispered.

The post The Watched: The Slegna Have Come appeared first on Lisa Hall-Wilson.

The Watched: Honey Is Sticky

This is chapter 22 of The Watched: Honey Is Sticky. Find all the chapters published so far here. Download the entire novel from a major retailer here.

[image error]

 

Edric sat near the fire and watched the doorway to the tree. He could not grasp what had happened, what had been allowed to happen. If all Lynna had described was true … Surely Aralyn had not invited the attack. Yet, why had the Slegna allowed this? He saw no point in what had happened. There was no glory for the King in this.

Barric finally emerged. He walked with the gait of a man twenty years his senior. He spoke with Nara and she nodded. Edric put out a hand to block Barric’s path. “I want to see her.”

“Give her some space.”

Nara paused to glance between them before heading into the tree with a sack under her arm.

“I would know what happened,” Edric said.

Barric shoved him. “What do you think happened? And you won’t be telling her it’s all in her head.”

“She agreed to marry me. I have a right to hear her account.” Heat crept up his neck.

Barric pushed past him. “There’s been no binding agreement. You’re free to find another.”

The thought of finding another made his gut wrench, but his heart ached at the idea of what Aralyn might now carry within her. He caught Barric’s elbow and held him back. “You know the old stories. Is that what happened here?”

“You think I don’t know why you chose her?” Barric pulled his arm free. “She closely resembles Callia. Others here have remarked on it. Your pure and innocent Callia killed by wolves—”

Edric hit him.

Barric took the hit on the cheek and answered with his own swing. His fist glanced off Edric’s jaw. The blow stung and knocked the younger man back a step.

Barric spat on the ground. “You were to watch her from a distance, not get so close she could mistake the safety you offered for love. Now, instead of compassion and acceptance, you offer betrayal.”

Barric walked away and Edric roared. “You’re taking her away, aren’t you? I have authority for her safety.”

The thought of not seeing Aralyn every day eclipsed all other thought. He caught up to Barric. “I won’t let you take her. I have spent the better part of twenty years watching over her while you hid from your duty on that hill trying to forget what you gave up. I saw that she was fed, kept warm, comforted, and safe. I did that for her.”

“This is not about me. The devil at the river let you go. Did you not wonder why?” Barric’s voice echoed through the clearing. “Your fear of losing her owns you. Feer followed you here and when the enemy could not reach you, it attacked my cild. The one you claim to love was abused on your account. Do you wonder why I take her away?” Barric stood nose to nose with him. “I’m her fæder and I’m telling you to stay away from her.”

Cilix came between them. “Enough.”

Edric sidestepped Cilix. Barric met him halfway. “The shame of this is not hers, and if you can’t see that, you don’t deserve any woman, let alone my dohter.”

Edric swung, but Cilix shoved him to the ground. “Enough. Both of you. The Slegna have come.”

The post The Watched: Honey Is Sticky appeared first on Lisa Hall-Wilson.

4 Ways To Ask Better Questions

[image error]

I can’t help asking questions. I’m always asking questions, but I have learned not to ask some questions out loud. If I had a super-power, it would be asking questions. Questions are helpful because they keep us accountable, and challenge us to examine our motives and processes to find error or better efficiency.

In my experience, too often those who ask questions are relegated to the outskirts with the dissenters, trouble-makers and pot-stirrers. And some people may use questions to do all those things, but it’s always been fairly evident to me the difference between a question meant to offend or cause dissent and a question looking to find truth or understand a concept or process. The two should be treated differently.

We should be encouraged to ask questions — not just of the church, but of ourselves and our faith. Question everything, because then you have an answer for why you do what you do, why you think what you think. You understand the process of finding an answer for yourself when a particular way of thinking is challenged.

Because for those who can’t help asking questions, most of the time our questions are not rooted in a desire to stir up controversy or “poke the bear” at all, but out of a desire to see something improve, to better understand something, or answer a felt need.

Here are four questions I have learned to ask of myself before I voice a question out-loud.

Determine if you have a good question

When you’re genuinely, humbly, seeking knowledge or explanation there’s no such thing as a dumb question. However, outside of that there are plenty of dumb questions available. Dumb questions are meant to shame, cast doubt on, divide, tear down, or belittle. We’ve all been the victim of these kinds of questions:

Are you really going to wear that out in public?

This kind of passive-aggressive, back-handed, (insert impolite word) needs to be called out and eradicated. Say what you mean or don’t say it. There is no such thing as the gift of criticism. Questions voiced out loud should help to build up not tear down.

Question your own motives first.

I am the kind of person who is always evaluating what I’m doing, where I’m going, and how I’m going to reach that goal. I’m measuring success, obstacles, and how I’ve veered off the path. I’m analytical by nature – probably the reason why I love questions so much. If I dig down and examine what’s going on in my heart, the statements I’m making internally, often my motives for asking a particular question become clear.

Asking questions is not a mark of immaturity, but the kind of questions you ask may be. Why are you asking this? Why are you asking this of that person? Pray first. See the last point.

Always seek to ask a better question.

Instead of asking – why is that person so hard to get along with, a better question may be – what do I have in common with them? Always examine how your question can help, repair, build up, or restore. Questions that make you feel like you’re better than someone else, are rooted in taking people down a notch, or in making someone see things your way, are of the passive-aggressive, back-handed variety (see point #1).

There’s a better question if you look for it, but it will almost always require you to humble yourself first.

Give your question time to steep

I have learned to keep many questions to myself partly because I think it’s wise to let your questions steep. What I mean by that is, asking questions as they come to you means that sometimes they’re not fully brewed. Half-brewed questions come out wrong, are misinterpreted, and can be offensive. Half-brewed questions can be motivated by hurt feelings, immaturity, or only half the information.

Once I’ve let the question fully brew, then I decide: is this question helpful? If you decide to ask a question that will cause a stir, please see the next point before you book that meeting, send that email/text, arrange to have coffee with the person to whom the question will be directed at.

Seek Out A Safe Place

What those who love to ask questions need is a safe place/person to talk out their questions. This should be part of the steeping process. I always find it helpful to talk out my thoughts and have someone challenge my wrong thinking and my pride. Sometimes I walk away more determined to ask my question. Most of the time, I walk away from this process without an answer and choose to let that question go. Sometimes even good questions are better left unasked — or asked later.

Are you a question-asker by nature? Do you know someone who is? What advice would you add to this list?

The post 4 Ways To Ask Better Questions appeared first on Lisa Hall-Wilson.

The Watched: An Invisible Enemy

This is chapter 21 of The Watched: An Invisible Enemy. Find all the chapters published so far here. Download the entire novel from a major retailer here.

 

[image error]

 

Barric gave up on the lullaby. He stamped down the rage boiling up in him and willed his heart to manufacture the peace she so desperately needed from him.

Edric, the one entrusted with the safety of his daughters, had simply stood there, his sword useless against an enemy he could not see. Another reason Edric was not the one for Aralyn. Edric had forgotten how to pray.

She was so young, broken in unseen ways. He was sure by the way she curled up like an infant in his lap. How did he protect her from this? How did he help her heal?

“Aralyn, you’re safe. Look at me.”

She shook her head and, if possible, curled her knees in closer. She might be grown, but she was tiny. At least to him. How did he comfort a grown child he barely knew and who barely trusted him? Still, he would give the duty to no other.

His back ached and his legs cramped, but he let her cry it out. When the sobs dissipated and the tears seemed to run dry, he brushed the hair from her face. “Are you hurt?”

She shrugged. “It was my fault. I insisted on sleeping apart from you.”

“This was not your fault. You did not invite this.” He hugged her hard. “Tell me what happened.”

She hiccupped. “You’ll tell Edric.”

“I won’t.” She had not shared her vision with Edric either. A thick dread settled in his gut like bad bread because she believed this spoiled her, that Edric would not want her. If Edric did not understand how the enemy attacked her, because she would not tell him, how could he keep her safe?

“What happened dohter fæger ond wlitegost?”

She glanced up. “What does that mean?”

“Dohter fair and most beautiful.” He rubbed soothing circles on her back. It was all he could think to do.

“I don’t know.” She leaned her head against him again and closed her eyes. “I was asleep. And woke to this touch. On my skin. This voice that sounded like Edric. The furs were still atop me, but I felt his breath on my skin. Then I knew it wasn’t Edric. He tore my shift. I couldn’t move. I fought against him, but I felt your hands on my shoulders at the same time.”

The pain and confusion in her voice ripped a hole in his heart. “Do you understand what happened?”

“If that is how a man is with a woman, I want no part of it.”

Barric pulled back so he could see her face. She needed her mother, but Felora, by the sounds of it, had abandoned that duty a long time ago. “No, between a husband and his wife there is love and tenderness and pleasure. A husband does not take pleasure from his wife. She offers it to him. He does not steal or force or threaten. Do you understand the difference?”

Aralyn shook her head. No, how could she understand? Perhaps what had happened to her was what she witnessed between Felora and Oram? Yet she had welcomed Edric’s touch. Barric had caught enough glimpses of that.

“Fa, am I with child? Edric said that is how it works.”

A stone sank to the pit of his gut. There was no blood on the sheets or on her that he could see. Yet there were stories of children conceived in this way from long ago. He only had Lynna’s description to go by.

“Where were you touched? You must tell me everything.”

Aralyn pointed to her torso and shoulders and neck, her finger trembling as it traced a path across her body. He asked question after question, trying to see what had happened through her words, through her inexperience. Her answer to his final question made his shoulders sag. Interrupted. “No, you can’t be with child. I’ll explain later.”

He drew the furs up and over Aralyn again and saw the bruises on her wrists and forearms. A dark smear was rising on her jaw and across her collarbone. He had seen the way Feer had attacked Edric at the river and now Aralyn. But Barric was not powerless.

A decision took form in his mind. Edric would fight him, Aralyn might too, but it was the right decision. No matter where they went, Aralyn would be a target, especially now, but Barric would find no teacher for her here. They couldn’t stay.

“Fa?” A small voice spoke from the doorway.

“Come here.” He held out his hand for Lynna and the younger girl curled up next to him.

“Lynna needs a name too, in the old language,” Aralyn said to him.

He thought. “Leof my love? Dyre my dear or leofa beloved?”

Lynna scrunched her nose at those terms. Barric laughed.

“What’s my friend?” Aralyn said.

“Min freond. Or min sweostor, my sister.”

Aralyn turned to her sister. “Bancung min little freond.” She turned to Barric for the missing word.

“Bancung min freond lýtling.”

Lynna beamed.

“Where did you learn thank you?” Barric asked Aralyn.

“Mother would let it slip sometimes when Oram wasn’t around.”

“Why couldn’t anyone else hear Aralyn?” Lynna squirmed closer, but there was no more room in his lap.

“Why didn’t you wake up?”

Barric squeezed her against him. “Because you have a gift no one else here has. It seems you can see the supernatural world around us, while we must wait for those beings to show themselves. I was praying for Aralyn. I prayed the King would send a warrior to defend her because I could not.”

Aralyn stirred against him. “I heard your prayers. Part of me wanted to follow him. He said I was useless and ruined. But your prayers and your hands held me here.”

He hugged them. “Min dohter leofa, the deofol tells many lies. Yes? We must learn the truth so we recognize the deceptions.”

There was still much he could teach them both and that lightened his heart. And the King had heard his prayers. Barric drew in a ragged breath and kissed both their heads.

The post The Watched: An Invisible Enemy appeared first on Lisa Hall-Wilson.

The Watched: A Foot In Two Worlds

This is chapter 20 of The Watched: A Foot In Two Worlds. Find all the chapters published so far here. Download the entire novel from a major retailer here.

[image error]

Barric fell backwards. Aralyn fled the furs and cowered in the corner. She sat on her heels, knees pulled up to her chest. Her shift rent from top to bottom and her skin already bruising. Not his dohter. Not the cild he’d prayed for.

Barric got to his feet and gathered Lynna in his arms. “Hush, it’s fine now. Aralyn is safe. You did well.”

“She was screaming, but you wouldn’t come.” Lynna sobbed against Barric’s shoulder.

He held her face in his hands. “You saved her.”

“No, the man with the sword saved her.”

How much more could Lynna see that he could not? It was not fair to give the burden of such a gift to a child. “What man?”

“He said his name was Onur. He was big, bigger than you. His sword had a light inside it.”

A Slegna. Barric sagged with relief and hugged Lynna again. His prayers were heard. “You did well. Run and fetch Nara for me.”

The child hesitated, but Barric pointed toward the door. “Go. I need Nara. Tell her to bring some light and the clothes she offered me.”

Edric stood behind him. Aralyn gathered the torn edges of her shift together and turned away. She rubbed her arms and legs as though she scrubbed dirt from her skin.

Barric stood. “Out. Everyone out.” A small crowd had gathered behind him in the doorway. It was clear what had happened, that Feer had infiltrated their camp and violated Aralyn.

“This is not done,” Edric said. “We were right here. How did this happen?”

Barric stared at his friend and saw the horror likely evident on his own face. He refused to think of the possible consequences of this night. The devil warriors spawned by forcing themselves on women, but it had not been allowed in a very long time. It was nearly myth even among the King’s people.

Nara appeared and lit the small brazier near the door. Light danced on the walls inside the tree. She forced everyone else back, including Edric, and stood at the entrance facing out to give them some privacy. “Cilix sits with Lynna. She is safe,” Nara said over her shoulder.

Barric focused on Aralyn and on helping her heal. He lifted Lynna’s favourite blanket from the bed and draped it around Aralyn’s shoulders. “It’s all right, cild. You’re safe now.”

She turned her face into Barric’s chest. He held her close though he had no words. What could he say to erase the humiliation and disgrace this had brought her? Words were poor comfort in times like this.

Instead, a lullaby his mother favoured came to mind. He hummed the tune and sung a line here and there.

Barric glanced at the bed where Aralyn had lain. There was no blood on the sheets. How did it work? Was it possible she’d been violated physically or had it been only in her mind? He didn’t know.

The post The Watched: A Foot In Two Worlds appeared first on Lisa Hall-Wilson.