Samuel Colbran's Blog, page 3

Daily writing promptWhat’s your favorite time of day?View...

Daily writing promptWhat’s your favorite time of day?View all responses

Mornings, especially at sunrise. Great time to stir your creative juices

Fighting Scenes and Plotting

Honestly, this blog was supposed to be about my thoughts on the Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy, plus the Christmas special. But I need to rewatch them before discussing the storyline and how, in my opinion, the best out of the MCU. So I want to concentrate on my next book, Savage Rebellion, planning.

So this week, I brought the needed card paper for my version of the Snowflake method with fantastic coloured pens for each part of the arcs. Each coloured pen will represent the main protagonists, minor characters, supporting characters, book arc, local worldbuilding, antagonists, over-arcing series and worldbuilding of Favinonia. This time I decided to do two A2 card papers to have room for everything.

As this will not be too much spoiler (as I will post the raw chapters later), the first few chapters will concentrate on a tournament. These sections will mean action galore, trash talk and describing sword stances. I have done some research on different styles of weapons. I did have to admit that it concentrated on basket-hilted swords for Lone Solo, bastard sword for Joan Stillwater and arming sword for a particular minor character named Dirk Creswell.

In my experience, less is more when it comes to combat; give enough to paint the picture and allow the reader to envision the scene with their imagination. 

Here is a little raw excerpt from book two, Savage Rebellion:

So, what is cut one again? Something in the corner of my eye, oh, that is his sword. Angling my shield, it defects. Counter a with an upper attack to his cheek. Damn, he deflected and back into defence. Step back and regroup! 

“That is it, boy. Stay in the Hanging guard; targe forward.”

So many guards and cuts,  Lone tried to remember his training.  My old skills might have been brutal but effective. Protect the head but be ready to defend against any other angle.

As Dirk stepped towards Lone, he swung at his opponent’s head.  Hang on, he not going for a strike at my head.  Lone quickly thought  Derek was going to my side using a feint!

Lone shifted back and then switch-stepped to make a small thrust. Knowing that Dirk will move to block it. Lone quickly flourishes into cut one, a diagonal downward towards his left side.

Bertude calls out. “First blood, winner Lone Solo!”

This is using actual names of strikes and guards from the basket-hilt sword. As much as I enjoyed thinking about different cuts and guards, it may be too much.

Here is a street fight from my published novel, Lake Merrin:

Seeing an opening, Lone lunges, smashing the side of the thug’s head with a hammer-like strike. He falls to the ground in a stunned heap. With a deep growl at the other two, Lone hoped to scare them off. They counter Solo’s growl with intimidating noises, akin to alley cats fighting over a five-day-old fish. 

“You fell for another sucker punch?” Lone gloated over that white-back.

They are not impressed by that line. Drawing my knife… no time to think. Attack. Ratface jumps over his comrade at me! Foolish. Something the sergeant taught me flashes through my mind: ‘Always have your feet on the ground.’

Moving forward, I take his attack on my forearm and return a straight stab to his gut. That’s right, piggy, squeal! If it were not for Ratface, I would not have wasted an ale.

One is tournament rules, using some proper terms and techniques, while the other is a little slapstick with a brutal outcome. Which would you prefer in combat? Each new action scene I write helps me to improve my novels.

I have different ideas on how to write action/combat scenes, but it comes from what you want to show and not just exposition to your reader.

I will miss you, Mum.

It has been three weeks since my mum, Cheryl, died. I have up and down days; today isn’t a good one. I need to let this grief out productively.
My mum was fantastic, funny, intelligent, chaotic, a teacher, a mother and a fun lover. I remember often that she would cheer my siblings and me up on a whim. I take after her a lot in that regard. While I was her carer for her last years, I used to do a funny dance or just be weird so she would smile.
I could talk about her as a young lad, but that is burry in my mind’s eye. I remember her being there while I was sick, sad and happy. Mum loved my brother, sisters, and me so much.
I miss her being there while I slept. The noise from the television not being there is the worst, and not waking up to her calling me to help her with everything. Her not being there for me to wiggle her toe, so she knew she wasn’t alone.
While I potted around doing my tasks, my mum would be there knitting for people experiencing homelessness. She said, ‘I do this not to sell but to make sure someone can feel comfort from my work.’
My mum was a massive fan of my writing; she used to encourage me to write something new. I write fantasy, and she hated the genre but loved my writing. My next book will, of course, I will be dedicated to her.
Wherever I go, I am glad she raised me to be a good man.

I miss her so much.

I am writing again!

It has been over a year since I last wrote a blog. It is funny looking back to why I stopped writing; it was due to severe writer’s block. Now I want to get back into the saddle; just a few things I must do before Samuel Colbran, the author, emerges!

The first thing is my book, Lake Merrin. I was looking to write the second book in the series, Savage Rebellion, but I am unsure where to go and what I have written is trash. So, a total rewrite is needed for the second book, but I must read the first and its companion novella, the Great Spoon Heist.

That is a simple thing except for one thing, the chicken scratch font for the journal part that I decided on three years ago. It doesn’t help that I can’t read it, I might need glasses, but I don’t think so. Instead of seeing the negative of why I choose this font, I have grown as an author, which is why it is inadequate for my books.

Journal entry of Lake Merrin

Then after I fix the above issues, I will move on to planning out Savage Rebellion with my version of the snowflake planner. From one the best masterclasses I went to showed me how to use this method. I reviewed Lisa Chaplin’s Master Class; check out the link for more information. (Which so happened to be my first blog).

My snowflake plan of Lake Merrin

I like the snowflake method because, at every story point, you first have a One-Sentence summary of Your Book, then create a Primary, Secondary or Tertiary question to reflect on each arc/plot point or character growth. Then everything is reflected back to the original summary, which will expand while you write.

Let me make an example for a basic storyline:

One-Sentence Summary: It’s a political fantasy story about confronting reality. It kicks off in an echoing cavern with someone’s birthright being challenged.

Primary Question: Is the protagonist’s motivation connected to each arc?

Secondary Question: How does this affect the protagonist’s personality or flaws?

Tertiary Question: Do the protagonist’s choices affect how the present conflict/villain’s plans change in the story?

With each arc, I would see how I answer these three questions. It will become part of my process to cover some of these questions; how I answer them will organically help my writing strategy.

I even broke that down further, coloured-coded the story arcs for Main characters/protagonists, minor characters, local arcs, world arcs and finally, conflict/antagonist. 

The story will emerge from the three questions to colour-coding, and the writing can begin. I will keep you all updated with my progress in future blogs.

Curiosity, my bread and butter.

I signed up to a particular site asking interesting questions. The questions asked on the site could be about many different topics like anime, science, movies etc. This particular question was about high IQ.

The question was Do people with high IQ think differently?

Questions about IQ on this particular site are subjective and I was surprised by this person answer.

The answer was by the user name Sanya K

Had you asked me 10 years ago, if have given you a different answer. But I used to work, play, and surround myself with people with above average intelligence. I was no different to them in my thinking.

But now I live in a retirement village, and I volunteer with foodbank, and I now mix with many people with below average intelligence. Some people are bordering on intellectually disabled.

The difference between me and them, I find, is curiosity, or lack thereof.

Lower IQ people just aren’t curious about things, and aren’t interested in learning new things. They get by doing what they’ve always done, and they’re contented with that.

When a person comes up against something they don’t understand: a low IQ person will just shrug and move on, or they’ll ask someone else to fix the problem for them; a high IQ person will google it, ask questions, read more, try it for themselves, experiment, and is determined to understand.

High IQ people are curious about lots and lots of things. Even if it’s just academic, the knowledge and understanding in itself is a reward. Even if you’re not going to apply it, the titbits of trivia are fun. Low IQ people aren’t even interested in a trivia quiz that’s aimed at their level. Low IQ people don’t watch quiz shows. If they do, its more about the prizes, or how much money the contestants win. High IQ people are interested in the questions and answers, and test themselves while they watch, because it’s fun. It’s a hobby in itself.

There’s also the aspects of learning faster, picking up on concepts easier, etc, but in a field you are interested in, even an average person can learn faster than a higher IQ person who is not interested. To me, this is similar thinking across the board – I want to do this thing, therefore I want to know how to do it, therefore I’ll push myself till I get it right. The need to apply a skill comes first, therefore they learn.

With curious people, the learning is first, then that opens possibilities to applying it.

Now that I know quite a few lower IQ people, I have found the real difference is curiosity. I’m actually amazed how uncurious some people are. They wont play a card game they don’t already know, because they just aren’t interested in learning it. They won’t try a food they’ve never had, because they aren’t interested in a new experience. They’ve never needed it before, so they don’t see the need for it now. They just aren’t curious.

With high IQ people, there’s an awareness of possibilities out there. They realise there’s a whole lot they don’t know. And when they find out about a new thing, they want to know all about it. Science, the arts, mathematics, geography, history, culture, what makes people tick, what makes the world go round… That’s curiosity.

I have a drive to know things, just the love of learning, discovering and just seeing things in a different way/light.

Curiosity is one of my strongest traits, if there is something I don’t know, I will research, look at multiple sources and try to understand the topic.There is a downside to curiosity, mental health. Needing to know things can cut both ways. To shrug things off would be wonderful but I need to know, even though it could damage me.

What do you think of this answer?

Links for more insight into this subject:

https://www.futurelearn.com/info/courses/developing-curiosity/0/steps/156372

https://www.spring.org.uk/2022/05/curio.php

https://hbr.org/2014/08/curiosity-is-as-important-as-intelligence

Supporting the end of child abuse

A few days ago, I saw an advertisement about Polished Man. A charity about abolishing child abuse and keeping the conversation going; you paint your nail blue for October.

I found the site and then, straight away, donated to the cause. I am a poor carer but being a child of abuse, how could I not do it?

I think it is time for me to share my tale of abuse.

The topic of abuse is challenging for me as it was nearly 25 years ago since I left home and was free from it.

It started when I was four. My biological father took me from my mother due to some reason. It was a fantastic time, and we live with my grandmother, who was a delight. This was when my father met that woman, my future abuser.

She had three of her children, one my age, so I thought of new friends/siblings. How wrong I was. Not only did ‘this woman’ encourage her children to pick on my sister and me, but she would also punish us for anything she could think up.

The punishments were harsh, being beaten with a tent pole, being only allowed to drink water for days while being forced to sit on your bed and do nothing. Being sat on and suffocated by a 100 kg woman when only five years old.

 We never were given food for lunch, so I had to go bin diving to eat. The woman informed the school of my misdeeds, and I was punished by cane by the deputy principal. At the house, I ate cat food from a neighbour’s pet food bowl so that I could live.

I think a kind teacher saw my bruises (which never strayed further from the hems of my clothes) and informed the police. The pictures taken of myself was horrendous. Imagine a child in a t-shirt and shorts, and instead of clothes, they were bruises and welts. I was more black than blue.

So we were taken away and put into foster care, you would think I would have been safe? You’re mistaken.

While in a foster home, I was sexually assaulted by a teenage boy (who I think was a foster kid too). I can’t remember the experience, but it did happen, and I moved to a new home after being interview by the police.

My wonderful mother fought in court during my tribulations to find and gain full custody of my sister and me when I was six. I do love my mum, and she saved me…. for a while.

She had remarried too, a new father. A strong man, army officer, how could I not look up to him? It took some time, but his true colours revealed themselves.

At the grand age of 11, he said I was not his son. At 12, I would never become a cop because I was too fat. Between the ages of 13 to 15, he went out of his way to mentally and emotionally abuse me. At 15, it was the first time he nearly beat me up. He is a 6’6” man, army trained, and I was a 15-year-old kid. Who do you think would win a fight?

He also abused my sister while doing this to me (and I found out years later). I won’t say what, but it was fucked up!

The abuse continued for my sister and me until she ran away from home at 17, and I stayed to complete school when he was re-posted by the army.

Why didn’t I go to the cops? Cause he wasn’t hitting me, so my young mind thought that isn’t being abused?

At 19, I visited my mum and ‘him’, and the first thing he did when I walked through the door was abusing me. I looked at it, picked up my bag and said I am leaving as I don’t have to take that shit anymore. My mum (bless her soul) chewed him out.

Do you wonder why my mother didn’t protect me? Simple ‘the arsehole’ did it when she wasn’t around and put the fear of the gods into me to keep me quiet.

In the same week, he challenged me to a fight when my mum was at work. I looked at him (me being 120 kg 6’2” man) and said, ‘I wouldn’t do that because I love you.’ What I meant was I pity you, and you are not worth the time or effort.

Now I am in my 40’s. Life has given me more curveballs, but I endure. One thing, though, I would never want another child to go through what I did, so that I will be painting my nail for October.

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Part Two: Getting back to my Roots

I have come to an impasse; will I continue being an author? Now this question seems to be flawed, and I have people in my life who would scream bloody murder if I just give up. Then I have to inform them, I am not giving up, just changing perspective. I can still be a writer but not an author.

What does that mean? A fantastic person who gave me this advice at the being of my writing path, ‘Do you write? If yes, then you are a writer.’ Simple as that.

Now, I hope some of my thought processes may give some insight into people who have nearly given up. Cause I just don’t want to quit something entirely when it has given me so much joy as writing. I have been filled for 36 years with imagination, creativity and stories, but only 4 of those as a published author.

As I see it now, I have two paths; I will still be writing, but it will be more about how I view myself.

Over a year ago, I quit being a book typesetter with formatting print and ebooks. I had a clause in my contract that I could not compete with said publisher if I was either was fired or resigned. This is my first option, becoming an independent formatting guru. Still, before choosing this path, I will have to decide if I will be an author.

How I will determine if I will be a book formatter and hobby writer or an author will be simple; having people read my book(s).

I have figured out how this might work for all those good fiction writers who want to be self-published. The ‘How’ is simple, and I found this out by an author named Shirtaloon (click if you want to read his series).

Shirtaloon’s book series is called ‘He who fights monsters’, a Litrpg book about an Aussie being sucked naked into a weird world with magic and monsters. I might write a review on it later, but back to my thought process. I found out that he has a Patreon account, which links to a web novel hosting site called Royal Road.

Looking over this and dating back to the publication of his first book, I realised that this is where he started. Not only him but a few of my favourite authors began at Royal Road.

I thought to myself, why can’t I do this thing? I have one complete novel and 3 novellas. I could publish them on this site and see if people are interested.

Now you might say, ‘But you were making money from your books, why give them away for free?’ Easy answer, I haven’t sold a book in over 2 years.

So people are not buying them, and I will never have the money to finish my book series. Never mind, I have a whole lot of imagination and plotted out at least 8 books. It is simple now, either Royal Road will show me if I will stay being an author or give it up and work on formatting with a bit of writing (so I stay sane and happy).

If you like to follow my progression, click the link: Journal of an Adventurer.

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Politics, social media and me

I had an unusual interaction today; it was me commenting on a post of a political party leader. The post was about the taxation of billionaires. One of my main rules is that I do not talk about politics, period. Today I will be expressing my personal opinion on politics, the government and all those nasty polarising things, in essence, the chaos of democracy.

Don’t get me wrong, I believe that everyone should pay a fair and justified income tax, but we know that certain people have the means to get a fantastic break. It is not that people are against it, but the social media manager (SMM) of this political party leader (PPL) needs to stir the pot of injustice to get more interactions or likes.

My first comment was a little sarcastic; it was low humour, but I did get a little bit of a chuckle out of it. Then a new post about how the SMM will ‘fix’ it with a new bill/taxation of said billionaires. Again I agree with the idea, but they do or will never have the power to enact these changes. This is because PPL is not part of our ruling ‘two-party system’ (Big 2).

My reply was for them to concentrate on a win-win solution, which could benefit their strategy and line up with the Big 2 ideology. Then someone tagged me and stated that I should vote for them to do something if I care so much.

The strange thing is that I have been voting for this political party for 14 years, not because I support all their policies, but they do align with my ideas more than then Big 2.

I don’t particularly appreciate talking about politics, as it is infuriating that we live in a democratic society controlled by the Big 2.

Now, why have I been going on about this? Simple, I need to express myself but not on social media or email or to scream out crazy talk on the curb. So healthy, with less swearing.

Did I believe things should change than the status quo…. Okay, I want to call out my thoughts on stuff, but it seems to be the job of Mary, Joe and neither to have their own opinions and to disagree or agree can make the other side angry at you.

I am resisting the chance to rant and rave at the state of politic, but in the end, it doesn’t matter. Most policies don’t affect me because of being Indigenous-Caucasian mixed, single, no children, poor and work as a full-time caregiver. So my opinion doesn’t matter, as I will never be able to affect real change. But in my mind, I will always believe we can be better, only if we as human beings stop being so…. many bad words.

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Review of Super Powereds by Drew Hayes

This is the second series by the author, Drew Hayes. I, again, listen to this as an audiobook. It makes it easier to do things while I am caring for my mother. I have listened to this four-book series at least fifteen times. I keep coming back to it because how due again to Mr Hayes’ world-building and characterisation.

The genre of the series is superhero fantasy. It is set in a university where heroes get trained for over four years. In this world, there are three types of humans, regular, super and powered. Powered are the people who have super abilities but cannot control them. This is what the story is about, five people who were changed from powered to super.

My hands-down favourite characters are…um, all of them. Nick is smooth, intelligent and has the power of luck. Vince is down to earth, honest with the power of energy absorption. Mary, the ‘adult’ of the group and is a powerful telepath. Herschel, who is a massive nerd (after my own heart), has the power to turn into a different person named Roy, who is more potent, fitter. Roy would put it, ‘all-time more awesome than his brother Hersal.’ Finally, is Alice is a rich daddy’s girl who has the power of flight.

How they grew through the series was brilliant, remarkable and believable. I can’t go into what happens as that would spoil the series, but not at one point did I get bored or confused by the writing. My hat’s off to Drew Hayes in his second five-star book series I have read.

The choice of narrator, Kyle McCarley, was perfect for this story, and I would like to thank you for the fantastic experience their voice acting gave me.

Again, I would highly recommend this series, and I look forward to seeing more of this world.

You can find all his books and blogs at http://www.drewhayesnovels.com/

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Blood Brothers: Part Eight

By the time the cart trundled over the small hill, the brothers had dealt and disposed of the bees. Then they got to work. Orroark did the chopping, Asteria helped with sawing and curing the cedar with his magic, and Aldrich looked out for more bee. Indeed, he just didn’t want to chop trees or saw them into planks. 

Hours later, as the sun dipped low, they finally finished. Aldrich scouted out the covered bridge and watched as the bees return to their hive during that time. He counted ten bees, and one other warrior bee comes back, with two warrior bees roaming around the hive.

 Attacking now would be suicide, we need to come out tomorrow, and we need to get that queen! Aldrich pondered.

Crawling back, so he wouldn’t spook the hive. Once he was a bit further away, he hopped up and jogged back to his brothers. 

Coming out of the forest, Aldrich spotted Orroark stacking rough plank after rough plank on the cart. Calling out to them, “How did it go? Finish?”

Orroark beamed at Aldrich; he must have learned more about raising bees or how to build a beehive.

“Good, Hermes is well informed about bees. He thinks even the honey would have healing properties.” Orroark broke out with a huge grin.

Asteria covered with sweat; still, his hair was perfect. Aldrich always wondered how he did it. If he ever asked, Asteria said it was part of his bloodline magic, being that perfect. 

“That is good; we have to wait until tomorrow to raid the hive. Can we get the smokesticks and nets, Hermes?” Aldrich asked.

“Just come back with us, and we will give it to you. This should be enough wood to finish.” Enes stated for her husband as he was hooking up the ponies again. 

“We will help unpack the wood, and I think it would be best for us to get an early night and strike out tomorrow morning after the bees head off to gather food. We need you to bring the cart near the bridge by mid-morning.” Aldrich instructed.

With an agreement with the plan, they headed to the barn, going to the new hive. After unloading the wood, the brothers headed back to their bunkhouse. Eating a quick meal, they all headed to bed.

The following day, Orroark, Aldrich and Asteria headed out at dawn. Only eating some of the rations, as they didn’t want to disturb the innkeeper.

Heading up the main road, they kept an eye out for any movement. Luckily they didn’t encounter any bees.

Arriving within 100 feet of the bridge, they all took a knee, tested the wind and they adjusted to being upwind of the hive.

“So, I will take two sticks, Asteria you take two, and the other six Orroark will carry them.” Aldrich passed out the smokesticks.

“You stated that at least ten bees returned. Let us hope there isn’t that many left in the hive.” Orroark tucked the sticks in his belt.

“We throw in a stick and wait for them to start being confused? It will be hard to see through the smoke, be careful,” Asteria asked.

Orroark pointed, “There they go, one, two, four and six. Not as many as yesterday, should we go or abort?”

“We go, just keep the sticks ready and try not to kill too many bees. Use the saps instead.” Aldrick stood and move towards with Orroark and Asteria following.

Orroark move into the front position, Aldrich step back to the left with smokestack ready to throw and Asteria took the right point. Ahead of them were one warrior bee and a worker. 

With no verbal signal, Aldrich threw his stick, and a billowing cloud enveloped the two bees. Then all three picked up the pace. Orroark threw himself into the smoke, his hand leading with a sap. 

Asteria toss another smokestack into the hive, with Aldrich ducking and weaving through the smoke. He got to pass the first two bees, running deeper into the hive. 

Orroark bumped into a bee. It was swaying left to right. With that, he clocked the head of the bee with his sap. With little effort, it dropped to the ground. As he stepped forward, the way was blocked again by another swaying bee. Grumbling under his breath, he just pushed the bee out of the way. It reacted with a lame swipe of its stinger.

Coming into the smoke, Asteria follow in the wake of his two brothers calling out, “Where are you two? I can’t see you.”

Orroark growled, “By the books, these stupid bees get drunk from the smoke. Don’t know where Aldrich went.” Then he smashed down the sap again on another bee.

Further inside the hive, Aldrich found himself alone. What is taking the other two so long? Looking around, two more bees headed towards him. Curse it!

Aldrich threw his last stick, engulfing the two flying towards him. He then took a few steps, threw himself under the bees, and slid further into the hive.

Meanwhile, Orroark was blocked by another bee. “Stuff this,” He dropped the sap and pulled out his Big Book of Bashing. “Piss off, Bee!” He slammed the book hammer into the side of the bee, making it bounce down into the hive.

Asteria grouping around, seeing a bit of non-smokey area, he threw another stick. Which landed in front of Aldrich, enveloping him in smoke. “Bloody hell! Watch out!” 

Aldrich kept moving into the hive, ducking under another bee as the smoke cleared. He spotted the largest bee so far. Over ten foot long, coming out of another chamber, was another warrior bee. What to do?

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