Davis Summerlin's Blog, page 4

Publishing Journeys Part 4: The Small Press

Welcome to the final installment of the Publishing Journeys series!To summarize what we talked about up to now, we learned to avoid vanity presses in part one.We learned that Traditional Publishing is great to add critical acclaim, and potentially less headaches, though it doesn't necessarily mean more money in part 2.And inpart 3 we learned that in order to successfully self-publish you must make an investment. That investment can be time or money, but a quality product needs to be the end result regardless. While this is more work, the upside to it is unbridled control, and much higher royalty shares than your traditionally published counterparts. Now we'll talk about a path that lies somewhere in between traditional and self-publishing. Publishing with a Small Press! Not that I'm biased.1. We briefly touched on the issue of marketability in Part Two.2. And the strengths and weaknesses of gatekeepers in Part Three Even if you've written an excellent book, traditional publishers may be hesitant to pursue a book deal if said book is in a niche genre. While self-publishing solves this problem, so do small presses.Small presses can provide an outlet for those types of niche books. Most of them exist to do just that. To publish with a small press, you are essentially striking a compromise between the traditional publishing world and the self-publishing world. Generally, you won't have to foot any of the bill in order to publish with a small press. This is the same arrangement as if it were a traditional book deal. You would be assigned a team (albeit probably a much smaller team than a traditional publisher...but still,) to work on each facet of your book. You may even have more of a say in the final product (stress on the word 'may). Not footing the bill is definitely a strength. That being said, most small presses won't be able to afford you an advance like a big traditional publisher would. However, that could be rectified with higher royalty share. Think in the 25% range. That's still significantly higher than traditional published authors, but quite a bit lower than most self-published. But hey, you didn't have to foot the bill to get your book to market either. Then there's the gatekeeper aspect of it. One of the benefits of having gatekeepers involved in the publishing industry is to keep literary garbage from clogging our communal retail space. When publishing with a small press you will have to be vetted by a gatekeeper. Now this gatekeeper may not be quite as picky as their traditional counterparts, but their livelihood depends on whether or not they think they can sell your book too. It can't be garbage. Even if your story is in the appropriate niche for that small press, it still has to live up to the same high standards that customers expect. Ultimately this can be seen as a strength. If accepted by a small press an author can again gain that sense of validation that all writers crave. Just because it may be 'easier' to get a book deal with a small press, doesn't mean it's 'easy'. There are a variety of factors that come into play here too, not just quality.For example. I have been approached by a handful of authors here at Dice Book Publishing seeking for me to publish them. I know all of them to be great writers. But their work isn't in line with the future of my small press. So despite their skill they'll need to find a press whose vision aligns with their own. And its not just the press itself that makes the decision, but ultimately you as the author have to decide if its a good fit for you as well.I read an article the other day written by a small press owner. He's run his press since the late 1990's. While this article was meant to be informative, it was rather disheartening. The author of the article treated his press more of a hobby than a business. It was something he did on the side. While there's absolutely nothing wrong with that as someone who owns a small press, as an author looking to publish, I would hope the person I'm partnering with had a little more skin in the game. Another thing I found disheartening was the owner's apathy towards quality. He believed that since he wasn't one of the Big 6 in the publishing world, that authors publishing under him would be okay with mediocre printings of their work. Think ring bindings from Kinko's or saddle stitches. He also paid his authors in copies of their books. He qualified this, with the fact that many of his authors would sell these 'payment copies' for a profit at conventions and book signings. Like we looked in part two, keeping the lion's share of the profit's can add up fast. But the presses's poor standards of production quality leads me to assume that of those copies his authors attempted to sell, I doubt many of them could. That's one end of a very diverse spectrum. In another article I found a woman who operated a press on the other end of the spectrum. She ran this press full time as her career. She had multiple authors, several of which boasted awards for books in which she had published. She made a living off of her 'partner' authors' successes. That was one key difference between this press and the former. She treated her authors like partners (to an extent). Another key difference was that she gave those authors what they needed to succeed. But what they needed isn't necessarily what they wanted. All of her authors boasted some level of success. The way I define success in this instance is monetarily. When they got paid the publisher got paid. Hard to argue with that logic. As an author, one of the greatest things you can have in your arsenal is someone with a vested interest in your success. Publishing with a professional small press is a great place to find such an ally. Now with that being said, you will give up some elements of control. Like we covered in Part 3, one strength of Self-Publishing is complete and total control over the entire process. When you publish with a small press it is essentially like publishing with a traditional press. You are signing away the rights to your book (most of the time). But that's okay as long as you've done your homework and chosen the right publisher. The only reasons they'll ultimately veer from your wishes is:1. Your end vision is terrible and won't make either of you money. or2. Your end vision won't make as much money. At the end of they day whatever they decide is in your best interest. You may not be counting on your book's commercial success, but they most certainly are. And once again, if you've done your homework and picked the right publishing partner...you know...they know what they're doing. So, how do you know if a Small Press is for you?Well, have you tried getting traditionally published? If you're able to gain a traditional publishing deal, then I don't see much value in going with a small press. You're obviously writing in a genre that the Big 6 is comfortable getting behind.But what if you've tried to get a traditional deal and they've come back with buzzword feedback like "too niche for us" or "not what we're looking for right now." Well a small press may be a good alternative. On the flip side does Self-Publishing interest you? Do you get overwhelmed when you discover how much goes into producing just one book? 1.Professional Cover Design for an E-book, another for a paperback.2.Professional interior formatting.3.At least 2 rounds of edits (Ideally four).4. Which distribution partners to work with.5.Whether you should go wide or exclusive (a subject for a future blog post).6.How to price?7.How to market?8.How to market without going broke?!9.You'll need a website. Who will be your host?10.Will you sell your books on your website or divert traffic to other retail partners? Believe me the list keeps going...and going...and going. If you look at any of that, and think, I'd rather someone else do that, then maybe a Small Press is for you! Except the marketing thing. Learn how to market. Everyone should learn how to market.Below is an affiliate link. Which means that at no cost to you if you click through and decide to make a purchase, then I will receive a commission. Some of my most effective marketing strategies I learned from this book. So regardless of your publishing path this is a resource I can personally vouch for. See if you can find my review! I'll give you a hint...it's in the 5 star portion!

Publishing Journeys Part 3: Self-Publishing

In the previous two installments of this series, I outlined two methods of getting your book to market. One being a Vanity Press, the other through Traditional publishing houses. In this article we'll talk about the once taboo world of: Self-PublishingNowadays anyone can publish their book. This is both a blessing and a curse. Most authors hail this a good thing. "Down with the gatekeepers!" They cry on a daily basis...I'm assuming. In some cases they're right. There are some truly fantastic books that would never have seen the light of day in the traditional publishing world. Maybe they didn't fit the market? Or, perhaps they were too niche for a traditional publishing house to explore...too risky. Self-publishing allows authors and readers that are hungry for something different to be satiated.That's a good thing. But on the other side of the argument, without gatekeepers, there's little to no quality control for self published work (aside from the customers themselves). I'm sure if you scour the pages of Amazon, Nook, or Kobo, you'll find your fair share of poorly produced self published works. You know the ones. Those books that have a picture of a sword on the cover but turn out to be an expansive history of water beetles. They'll have ugly covers, and poor reviews (if any) due to a lack of editing. Without gatekeepers the marketplace is unfortunately saturated with books that aren't up to snuff. Books that gave Self, or Indie publishing a bad name...at least in the past.While you can certainly find those books, authors have begun to realize that just because you 'can' doesn't mean you should. The 'thing' about Self-Publishing is, that although there are no gatekeepers, customers till expect a quality product. With traditional publishing, the publishing house would ensure that was the case. They'd give the book a professional cover, professional interior formatting, and had several rounds of edits to ensure the work is at its strongest. They would have done this for you. They would have paid you while they they did this. Customers still expect this level of quality. Self published authors need to give it to them if they want to compete. This is going to be an investment. That investment could be in time, or money, or both. You could certainly DIY a lot of the work, especially if you have a background in it. However, this is where most authors fail. They'll try to save money by doing all the work themselves, but wont take the time to develop the skills to do it well. Thus, their book never meets its full potential. While they may have spent very little to no money in order to get their book published, a poorly produced product isn't going to sell. On the flip side, if they instead decided to invest in a professional cover design, interior formatting, and editing they would have given their book a much greater chance of success. They could also have taken the time to gain some of these skills themselves.While the investment of time pushes back the publication date, the development of at least some of these skills could become helpful for future projects. "Why would anyone want to Self-Publish? It just seems like way more work?"You're right valued reader. It is. But, aside from the previously mentioned Gatekeepers, there is also potential to make more money. As I mentioned in my blog post devoted to traditional publishing, which you can find (here). The royalty rate for self-published works is much higher. So, while you may not get the advance you would from a traditional book deal, as long as you've produced quality work that readers are willing to buy, you will make much more money in the long run. Another reason, is the ability to control each step of the process. With a traditional publisher, you sell various rights to your book. This takes away your ability to control how your book is presented to the market. The publisher may ask for author input and approval, but they aren't bound to it. Being able to control the process is appealing to most authors, even traditionally published ones. Some traditionally published authors have begun seeing how successful their self-published counterparts are, and have decided to switch to self-publishing themselves. Rachel Aaron, is a great example of a traditionally published author who made such an epiphany. You can watch an interview with Aaron here. The interview primarily focuses on her ability to write quickly, but she does go into her experiences with both traditional publishing and self-publishing throughout the video. Stay tuned for the final installment of this four part series! There we'll explore the intermediary between Traditional-Publishing and Self-Publishing...The Small Press!

Publishing Journeys: Part 2, Traditional Publishing

There are few accolades that compare to the acclaim of being a traditionally published author. The competitiveness alone is almost validation in and of itself. If you're traditionally published, essentially someone is telling you that your book is better than thousands of others.You're a better writer than thousands of others. You could literally take it that way, and not be wrong. But who makes that decision? Who decides if your story is actually as good as you know it is? Enter Gatekeeper #1: The Agent.While not always, the traditional way to gain a Traditional Publishing Deal, is through a literary agent. This is someone who will endorse your work and bring it to publishers on your behalf. In return they will most likely take a percentage of whatever you get paid by said publisher.Note:*These agents are specialized (most commonly by genre). So before you go beating on every agent's front door, do your research and find out if they're a good fit for you and your book. An agent who works primarily with true crime authors, probably wouldn't be a good fit for your children's book, no matter how good it is. *Although agents are the first of the gatekeepers, they are perhaps the most difficult to get past. Like most people, an agent's time is money. In most cases they don't make money unless you do. With that being said, they have to be very selective about what authors they work with. Even if you've written a beautiful compilation of prose, good agents know what publishers are looking for. If your story isn't 'cool' or 'trendy', then an agent might not want to take the risk. But lets say you have written something an agent is confident he can sell to a publisher. Great, congratulations. Like I said, the hardest part is over. Now its on to:Gatekeeper: # 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6, and...you get the picture.From here on out the book is...for the most part...out of your hands. The book will make its way from department to department throughout the publication process. It will be edited. Given proper interior formatting. It will be edited again. It will go through a design team to give it the best (you hope), cover it could ask for. It will be edited again. It will be sent to reviewers, bloggers, beta readers, anyone willing to build up the hype of its release. It will be edited once more. All the while you may or may not have any say in this process. That process can take months, but most likely will take an average of two years to make it to market. Yeesh! That's a long time.But that is potentially the beauty of traditional publishing. You have a dedicated team of professionals doing all this work for you, and on their dime. It may be slow. But, while all this is going on you could be writing your next book. Which you can once again turn around and sell. Keep doing that, fast enough and well enough and you've created a lifelong career for yourself. The fast enough is key. Because while it may take two years for each of your books to reach the market, you're bills aren't going anywhere. "But Davis, what about the advance?!"You're right valued reader. Part of a traditional publishing deal is the advance, a sum of money offered for your book's rights. The thing is for most authors these advances wont be enough to live on. The average first time author advance is between 1,000.00 and 10,000 (read 1000.00) depending on publisher and marketability. If making significant money from your writing is the primary goal, then perhaps traditional publishing isn't for you (at least at first).What are your goals? Are you more interested in the acclaim? The credit? The potential literary awards? If so, then yea traditional publishing may be for you. The reason all latter doesn't necessarily go hand in hand with the former is because of royalty share. Now, who would say no to $1,000.00? But the thing is, the vast majority of authors (traditionally published included) never earn out their advances. Meaning, they never start earning royalties. Not to mention that if you do earn out the advance and start earning said royalties, those royalties will be extremely low. They are almost always below 10% (7% is the standard). The average author sells about 250 books in said book's lifetime. Now this number is drastically skewed due to the JK Rowlings of the world, who sell a tad more than 250...think 500 million. Now hypothetically, let's say your write in a genre that generally prices their paperback books between 10 and 12 dollars. To be precise lets say 10.95 (using pretty pricing to get more conversions.) Now with this retail price you would have to sell 1315 copies of your book in order to meet your 1000.00 advance. That's well over what the average author is able to bring in. Chances are that most of your books will ever be able to hit that mark, and once you do you'll be making only .76 cents for every additional copy sold. "But Davis, if I'm traditionally published won't I have a professional team helping me find readers?"Yes and no.Like I outlined before, you will have lots of people working on your book. However, standard contracts exhibit that marketing efforts post production fall entirely on the author. While most publishers will offer support during the pre-release, the author is still expected to do their share of marketing throughout the life of the book. Now it may seem that I'm steering you away from traditional publishing. For a first time author, I don't see a vast amount of benefit aside from the initial acclaim. Take my book for example. If I were to sell 1315 copies at a dollar cheaper than the previous example. I would make $5,246.00, instead of just the 1000.00 it took to earn out the advance. That's the difference between a .07% royalty share and a 60% royalty share. The point is that if you're expected to do most of the work yourself anyway, despite being traditionally published why would you settle for less money?But, this type of scenario is specific to first time authors. Let's say you were able to earn out your advance (something that's very rare for a first time traditionally published author, but lets say you did it). If you did, then're obviously profitable. Because while you may have only made 1000.00 on those 1315 copies (plus whatever else you sold). Your publisher made somewhere in the ball park of $7500.00 give or take a little based on whatever discounts they received on their print runs. Not a bad deal for them. In this scenario, you'd be asked to write another book. With this book you could renegotiate the terms of your contract. Given your track record the publisher would be more inclined to give you not only a higher advance, but potentially a higher royalty share as well. Think closer to a $10,000.00 advance with a 10% royalty share.With this deal you have several things that make you more desirable to a publisher. You've proven that you have the ability write compelling content. You've proven that you're not only a good writer but that you're also good at selling what you write. But most of all you have established a following.You have customers waiting for your next book.That is a powerful thing. Both to you and your publisher. If you're able to rise and repeat this profitable process then not only will you continue to make more and more money, but the publisher will begin giving you more support as well. In this way you can have your cake and eat it too. Traditional publishing can be great. But just like any other option, success only comes from constant growth, adaptability, and proven (read repeatable) practices.Let me know your thoughts about traditional publishing, and stay tuned for the next part of our Publishing Journeys series where we explore a possible alternative to both traditional and self publishing! *Below are affiliate links. Meaning, at no cost to you if you decide to make a purchase of any of the items below I will receive a small commission.

Publishing Journeys: Part One, The Vanity Press.

Back in the summer of 2011 I had just finished the first draft of my novel 'If Only.' I was excited. I was excited to be published, excited to be an author, and excited to actually start making money on something i'd worked so hard for. That excitement ultimately cost me nearly $2000.00. Well, that's not necessarily true. My excitement didn't cost me.My Ignorance Did.So when I was finished I did what most new authors would do. I went to Google. I searched for something generic, like 'how to publish a novel,' or 'how to find a publishing house.' Now anyone who has ever searched anything on Google ever will know that ads always pop up first. Well the same thing happened on my search. I happened to click on one of these links (it may have even been the first one.) That link took me to what I thought was a publishing house. It's what I was looking for. It's what they looked like. Heck, it's what they called themselves. Turns out they weren't a publishing house, they were in fact a shark. What the industry calls, a vanity press. A vanity press in theory isn't inherently bad. They provide a service. Of which they will deliver to varying degrees of satisfaction. They will use terms like 'invest in yourself.' They will assign you to a charismatic 'team' filled with various titles, who will AGAIN ask you to 'INVEST IN YOURSELF!' at each stage of the 'journey.'(Note the all caps. Told you they were charismatic.)Now, to be honest, that's not bad advice. Investing in yourself is great. It's actually necessary for you to be successful (whether that investment is time or money). The difference between actually investing in yourself, and investing in a vanity press, is the return. If you were to invest not only 2000.00 of your hard earned money, but also all the time you've poured into the book itself into a vanity press you'd have something that looked like this:1. A book that was in all the major online stores(Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, etc).2. A 'professional' cover design for your book. 3. A 10% royalty rate in all of said stores (that's actually pretty good versus traditionally published authors).4. The copyright would be filed for you. 5. A single trophy copy of the paper-back. Doesn't actually sound that bad does it? I didn't think so. I didn't know how to do cover design. I didn't know how to get on Amazon, or Barnes and Noble, or Kobo, etc. I barely knew what a copyright was let alone how to file one. I paid the money. (I'm sure a few of the more enlightened readers feel like the queen below)A few years later, I finished my book. I gave the company a call. The initial people I talked to were very nice. They used what sounded like professional language. They guided me through the process, congratulated and complimented me on my work. It felt good. I got excited...excited enough to begin looking into the publishing process again. I wanted to know more about what was going on. In my search I found a man by the name of Derek Murphy. If you've never heard of him, I wouldn't worry about it. I hadn't. But in the author community he is kind of a big deal.His reputation proceeds him as one of the industry's best cover designers. He is also a best selling author of both fiction and non fiction. I'll leave a link to his website CreativIndieHere.I stumbled upon a blog post written by Derek Murphy. The post was about content marketing. It was the idea of providing value first and asking for a sale second. It was different, and it made sense. I began tracking and reading more and more of Murphy's posts over the next few weeks. Around this time I got a call from 'my publisher.' An excited marketing rep had just been assigned to my book and wanted to go over my options in order to:'Position my book for success'Sounded good right? All it would cost me was another 'investment' of $487.00. When I first made the deal with this publisher I was fresh out of college, and possibly didn't understand the true value of money.But at this point I was several years older. I had car payments, rent, insurance, vet bills...responsibilities. I was an adult. I wasn't stupid. This time the word 'investment' sounded sounded a hell of a lot like bull s*** to me. But instead of telling her that I simply mentioned what I'd read by my new found mentor Derek Murphy. I talked about other strategies I wanted to try. Other strategies that were supposedly vastly superior to the routes she wanted to take. She didn't take it well. I heard a shift in her tone from the moment I mentioned Mr. Murphy's name. When I told her I wanted time to think about her strategy she gave me an offer/ultimatum.All of a sudden the price of said option became $287.00, the only caveat was I had to give her my answer in the next ten seconds. So I did."No"I washed my hands of that publisher. I wasn't able to receive a refund due to the terms of the contract I'd signed but I didn't care too much at that point. I just wanted to distance myself and my work as far from that publisher as possible. I instead began reading more work by Murphy and other notable figures in the industry.I began investing in myself, both in time and money. This time for real. To date I have invested just over 1000.00 into myself and Dice Book Publishing. However, in return I have something like this:1. A book in all the major retailer online stores.2. I designed my own cover that (while not the greatest thing on earth) blew the pants off what my previous publisher had designed. I was able to design my own cover by taking several courses from Derek Murphy himself. While I probably won't design my own covers in the future, it's nice to know that I can. 3. I own all of my own ISBN's. This allows me to list myself as the publisher of my work, and eventually of others.4. The lowest royalty rate I have through any given retailer is 50%! The highest is 70% (compare that to the previous 10%).5. I have industry standard and leading software in the form of Scrivener word processing software, the Publisher Rocket Keyword Research engine, and the Hemingway Writing Editor. 5. AND Of Course My Company Dice Book Publishing!Although, it'd be nice to have my money back, the knowledge I gained from that initial misstep is invaluable.Though if you're reading this, feel free to avoid it.Ignorance is not a luxury many can afford in this business.I hope this post helped enlighten anyone looking to publish their first book! Stay tuned for part two! Where I'll talk about Traditional publishing, and whether it's right for you!Also, if you're looking for trustworthy partners in your search to publish your book, a great resource is the Alliance of Independent Authors (Alli). They have a list of companies that they have personally vetted. Here's a link to that list.

I Love, Love-Stories!

I love, Love-Stories. Whenever I meet a couple the first question I want to ask them is "how did you two meet?" If they're married it's only a matter of time before I ask "how did you propose?"Now, despite my desire, those aren't the first questions I generally ask when I meet new people, (though, as my wife can attest, I do tend to ask inappropriate questions at inappropriate times.) I have an arsenal of the usual stuff, like:1. "What do you think of all this rain?"2. "Do you think anyone will ever live up to Heath Ledger's Joker?"and of course,3. "Which of these three children are your favorite?"You know, the usual small talk like stuff. But again, nine times out of ten I'm really interested in how they met and how they got to where they are today.I came to the conclusion a few years ago, that everyone, no matter who they are, has a Hollywood worthy story inside of them. Some of those stories may be action packed thrillers, intellectual self reflective journeys, and yes deeply moving romances. Many of us could have all genre's of movie worthy stories within us. What about science fiction?! Ha got you there Davis!Spoken like every other idio...I mean...non believer out there. But yes, I'll grant that not everyone has been graced with the meeting of an extra terrestrial life-form...that they know of. But I digress.Below is a piece of the true love story between my wife and I, recorded in my upcoming book 'Love Frog.' Here's an exert from Love FrogGlancing to my left, I wondered how I’d handle this situation if in fact I couldn’t handle the man sitting in front of me. “I think genetics is more of a fall back plan, you know what I mean?” Michael said straight faced, as if we were about to have a serious debate. “Well I think there can be other factors that can affect your growth, but generally we don’t keep growing after our early twenties,” I cast the dice. I saw the woman the table over lower her book. She was wondering how this conversation would play out. So was I.“Yea, I know what you’re saying but I know I’m hitting my growth spurt, I can feel it and I’ve always been right about these kinds of things.” Michael was not in his early twenties. I’d say he was closer to thirty. Michael was schizophrenic. I knew because he told me the first time he met me. Hi I’m Michael, forgive me if I seem tired my medicine for my schizophrenia sometimes makes me tired. Excluding that informative statement you’d have never known. Michael was a quiet man. He liked to go to a coffee shop I frequent. I’d say he was their most regular Regular. I met Michael at work one night. He’d come to see his sister whom worked for the same company. The next time we were at the coffee shop together he decided to reintroduce himself. He was normal as far as I could tell. He had come down to Texas from Tulsa within the past year. He lived with his family. He had a disability check that he used primarily at the coffee house. I learned the coffee shop owner cut him a deal for being such a loyal customer. I liked Michael. There was a faint oddness about him, something you couldn’t pin point if he wasn’t so open about it. At least it was hard to pin point until that evening.“I really want to be six foot, that’s what I’m shooting for,” Michael was about five feet, six inches. “Is your Dad or Mom pretty tall?”“Nah, I’m the tallest in my family, I just really want to be six foot. I think if I really focus I can do it,” He had an uncharacteristic scowl on his face that dared you to disagree.“Yea, that’d be cool,” is what I settled on. Alone I may have lit the fire just to watch it burn, I myself am over six feet, with military training and a beyond healthy dose of confidence bordering on flat out arrogance. Essentially if Michael became hostile...as his scowl suggested he would be...I could take him.“Yea, it would be cool,” Michael agreed. I heard a soft snort come from the table beside me. “Bless you,” Michael said mistaking it for a sneeze. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the woman shield herself with her book once more. At the same time another woman entered the shop.She wore a deep red blouse and dark black pants. She had found a seat in the center of the coffee shop with two others. Her long brown and gold hair lifted slightly as she walked and fell down upon her shoulders when she stopped. She was beautiful. Do you like coffee? I considered asking the woman, yet thankfully the stupidity of the question hit me before I risked that as my line. I decided to let this one slide. She wasn’t alone and short of spilling my coffee on her I had no viable in. “Do you want to be six foot?” Michael pulled my attention back.“I’m six two,”“Really, I would have guessed like five ten?” Michael endangered himself. Once more I considered lighting the fire. I remembered the girl behind me, the two baristas behind the counter, an old man reading a book beneath a dim lamp, and above all I remembered the woman in Red. “Nope, six two,” I replied after my quick recall. I’m actually closer to six three, but I’ve stopped saying that because I think it makes me sound like a douche. “Wow, well maybe if you focus you can get even taller!” Michael said with a hint of encouragement. Before dismissing his delusion I took a moment to admire his Fuck Reality way of thinking.“Well, Michael I should be getting back to this,” I said motioning to my computer screen. “Oh, okay I’ll let you work; hey you want to exchange numbers? Maybe we can meet up sometime and just talk.” “Well here give me your number and I’ll shoot you a text next time I have a moment,” I said pulling out my phone. It was only half a lie. Part of me knew I would never text him, (partially because I never had a free moment) yet another part of me yearned to pick the man’s brain. I took down Michael’s number, saved it. Michael left. I still have yet to use his number.The black line of my cursor blinked steady like a metronome. I mentally pushed Michael’s conversation to the back of my memory and gradually replaced it with the words I’d already written previously. I didn’t get far. Before I broke the cursor’s steady flicking in and out of existence, someone stepped well into my personal space. I felt my left hand tighten. I looked to examine the intruder. It was Adi. Adi was an old friend. "I’ve known Davis since I was six," she always used to say, using our shared swimming lessons as her favorite introduction tool. I don’t remember exactly what she said to me that night. In fact I don’t remember much of what anyone said. I remember that Adi invited me to sit with her two companions across the way. A tallish, dark haired, dark eyed man, and the beauty in red. I remember looking at my lap top. I looked at the absolute lack of progress that had been made since turning it on that evening. I turned it off. Following Adi to the table I made a decision. It didn’t involve a corny line, or any sort of feigned clumsiness.Adi introduced me to the man. I shook his hand. She introduced me to the woman in red. “Davis, this is Victoria,” I had my in.

Fabled Lands (The War-Torn Kingdom) Book Review

This was a hard choice. I've read about six books since my last book review. Most have been quite influential. If not to my own writing, than to what I hope to write about. It was a hard choice but I finally landed on what I consider the most influential book I've read in a long time. That is Fabled Lands,or rather, the first book in the Fabled Lands series, 'The War-Torn Kingdom.'Title:Fabled Lands: The War-Torn KingdomSeries: Fabled LandsAuthor: Dave Morris; Jamie ThomsonGenre: Role Playing & Fantasy GamingLength: 112 pagesPublisher: Macmillan Publishers Ltd (1996) ; Fabled Lands Publishing (2010)Format: PaperbackRelease Date: 1996/2010Price: $8.99 at time of reviewNow as far as I know this series is unlike anything else in existence. There is no over arcing quest, nothing pulling your character in any certain direction. Instead the Fabled Lands series creates an immersive fantasy world. Each book in the series encompasses a different region of that world. It doesn't matter which book you start your adventure with, and by accumulating more books you unlock more of the world! #Greatsalesstrategy For anyone who has ever played any of the open world Elder Scrolls games, this is as close as it gets in book form. But this has been around since 1996, and...this does it better. When you first begin your adventure you choose between a handful of professions. This choice determines your starting 'Stats' which the book outlines very clearly in the first several pages. These stats, plus a pair of six sided dice, determine your probability of success for any given action that you choose throughout your adventure in the Fabled Lands. I chose the Warrior profession for my first play through the book. So essentially I excelled in various combat scenarios, but was just okay to terrible in pretty much everything else. That being said, it's still a game of chance. Even as a Warrior, with a Magic skill of 2 (that's really bad) I'd still get lucky sometimes with my dice rolls.For example:I had a quest in which I needed to travel beneath the ocean. While there may be another way, the easiest way (perhaps the only) is to use magic. Upon seeing this I immediately felt disheartened, but decided to give it a try anyway. I rolled double sixes. Adding my magic skill of 2, that made my total roll a 14. I needed an 11 in order to recognize the magical text on some Stonehenge-like rock. I got lucky, and managed to magically grow gills and venture under the ocean in search of a god's misplaced item. Pretty cool huh? That being said, most of the time you don't roll double sixes. Like later on in that same quest, when given another opportunity to exercise my magical prowess...I failed miserably, and was forced to fight three dreugh (crab/octopus like humanoids) at the same time. Not only that, but my normally combat skill of six (that's really good) was reduced to five because my character wasn't 'used to underwater combat.' Needless to say, I barely made it out of that fight. But that level of depth is insane to me, where even below the ocean you're free to explore. And what's even crazier is that, the entirety of the book, takes place in just one small section of the over arcing Fabled Lands series. Which brings me to my next point...keywords.Keywords essentially act as your characters memories. As you explore the world and interact with various characters you will gain 'words' to write down in your character sheet. Then, later on these words will begin to allow you to navigate the book in different ways. In essence the story changes as you do. For example, the first time you enter a new city you may gain a word...let's just use the word 'spy,' then you will go about your business. But let's say the second time you enter the city the book will direct you with something like this. If you have the key word 'spy' go to entry 112, to which point you'd find that entry and read on, as opposed to just exploring the city as usual. Then something new will happen. Maybe you get arrested under the suspicion of being a spy for a neighboring city-state. Maybe you really are a spy for a neighboring city-state! It's an exciting feature that is utilized very well. It's awesome. When I say it's the closest thing to Skyrim, or other open world video games I mean it, except this is decades older, and yes, in my opinion better. Yes, in Skyrim you can hire mercenaries to help you out, you can here too. Yes in Skyrim you can own houses, you can here too. Yes in Skyrim you can travel the world doing whatever you want, that's the whole point of this book! And yes...in Skyrim you can buy or captain your own ship and create an entire trading empire....oh wait...no you cant!BUT HERE YOU CAN! *Boom Roasted!* #FabledLandsForTheWin.If you're interested in being the next big thing in Fabled Lands use these affiliate links and start exploring!*Affiliate Link!*

Hydras, Specters, and Magic...Oh My!

Old bells jingled as the door to the comic book shop opened. Rufus stepped through. A square glass counter-top sat immediately to his left. A larger man with a crusty brown beard and a plain black t-shirt stood behind the it. A line of similarly dressed men had formed before him on the opposite side of the counter. Each sported similar equipment. A five dollar bill in one hand, and a deck of cards in the other. As the line proceeded, each man handed their five dollar bill to the man behind the counter. He’d take it, ask for their name, and write that name on a blank white sheet of paper he’d attached to a clipboard.Easy, Rufus thought. He opened his wallet. He thumbed through several fives and tens, but settled on the fake twenty dollar bill he’d found several weeks prior. This’ll be funny, Rufus thought as he pulled the fake bill from his wallet. The bill was the right color, a faded green, darker along its borders than in between images. However, the paper itself could be the bill’s tell. It was flimsier than the rest of the of the bills in Rufus’s wallet. Closer to a sheet of paper, rather than actual currency. Rufus found his place in line. As he approached the counter he couldn’t suppress a devilish grin from spreading onto his face. When it was his turn he handed his fake bill to the man behind the counter. The man took it without a thought. He gave Rufus back three five dollar bills as change. “What’s your name?” the man asked.“Rufus Warton,” Rufus answered. He gave up masking his delight at his deception.“Alright,” the man said. He cocked his head to the side as he observed Rufus’s devilish expression. He looked at the growing line behind Rufus. “Whatever,” the man said. “Stay close, and keep your eye on the screen for your pairings for the first round,” the man said. He signaled for the next patron.Rufus moved to the side. He took in the room. Eight long white tables had been laid out on the far side of the comic book store. Each table had a number placed at its center. The numbers ranged from one to eight. To the right of those were shelves that ran across the remainder of the walls. Each shelf was stocked full of brightly colored comics. Rufus turned his back towards those, choosing instead to focus on the table nearest to him. A pair of players sat before him. One was a man. He was dressed better than most. He had a clean goatee, and wore a plaid button up with dark blue jeans and even darker boots. The other player was a boy. He had dark black hair cut in a chili bowl hairstyle. He had thickly rimmed glasses that caused his eyes to appear larger than they actually were, and wore a similar black t-shirt to the ones most of the other patrons wore. His however sported a white and blue robot wielding a fiery sword at its front. The boy had a black three ring binder laid out in front of him. He was flipping through pages. Each page was filled with about twenty cards. He was showing the man across from him his collection. Rufus scanned the pages as the boy flipped through them. He recognized a few of them.Was that a Tarmogoyf?! Rufus thought.Wheels began to turn in his head. He moved to the table where the man and boy sat and pulled up a seat to the right of the boy.“Those are some pretty cool cards you got,” he said cheerfully. The boy turned towards Rufus.“Thank you,” he said with a smile. He moved the binder so that it was equal distance between Rufus and the man across the table. That man remained silent, but looked Rufus up and down.“Sorry, to interrupt you guys, but I spotted a few cards I thought looked pretty cool, and I was wondering if you’d like to trade?” Rufus offered.“Yea!” The boy lit up at the prospect.“To be honest,” Rufus began to probe, “I don’t really know much about the cards, I mainly just like the art,” Rufus said. He waited for a response.“Me too!” The boy said. Perfect, Rufus snickered. He fought to keep his devilish grin from surfacing. He was successful...mostly. “These are my dad’s cards,” the boy said. “He’s overseas, so he said I could have them to play with. When he gets back we'll play together. So I’m here tonight to practice so I can have a good game when he comes back,” the boy explained.I don’t care, Rufus thought.“Is it okay if I look?” Rufus asked, gesturing towards the book. A heavy pop sounded across the table. Rufus looked. The man’s left hand from across the table rested open on the table. Suddenly it flexed into a fist. The heavy popping noise sounded again. Rufus looked up. The man’s eyes locked onto his own. They were unblinking. Rufus felt the warning in the man’s gaze. What is he gonna do? Rufus thought. The boy passed Rufus his binder.Rufus flipped back to the page where he’d seen the Tarmogoyf. Before he showed his hand he decided to go for the soft sell. He perused the other cards on the page and settled on one with decent art.“This one’s really cool,” He said. The art on the card depicted that of a frog lizard. It had the head of a large frog but the body of an even bigger lizard. Its head floated above the surface of a small pond while its body lay crouched beneath the surface. As far as the actual value of the card, it was nothing special. The card was far too weak to see actual game play, and in his opinion the card was worthless.“I think so too!” the boy smiled. “I love the way he has a little head and a giant body,” the boy laughed. Yea yea yea, on to the good stuff, Rufus thought.“What do you think of this one?” Rufus pointed at the Tarmogoyf, a red and green monstrosity covered in scales and bursting forth from the ground. There were no eyes to speak of, only massive fangs and claws.“It looks,” the boy hesitated. “Scary,” he concluded.“Really?” Rufus asked, raising his voice as if it were an actual question. “I think he looks kinda cute,” Rufus smirked.“You would,” a deep voice rumbled from across the table. Rufus looked up, eyeing the man from whom the voice had come. Mind your own business! He thought.“I do,” Rufus exclaimed. “See how his eyes are all big like a puppy’s?” Rufus asked.“I thought those were teeth,” the boy said pulling the card closer to observe the artwork.“They are teeth,” the man from across the table chimed in once more. Rufus glared daggers at the man.“Well, call me an optimist,” Rufus said.“I think you mean, opportunist,” the man shot back staring daggers of his own. Rufus took a breath. He looked at the large screen the store clerk had pointed out earlier. A large timer began to tick. He had five minutes until the event started; five minutes to make a deal.“How about this,” Rufus began. He turned to the boy. “What kind of deck are you using tonight?” Rufus asked.“I wouldn’t tell him if I were you,” the man said looking at the boy.“What’s the harm?” Rufus asked the man.“I’m playing a soldier tokens deck,” the boy said. As he did so he pulled out a deck box from his backpack. He flipped the box open and pulled out a deck of neatly sleeved cards. The sleeves were white with pictures of samurai painted on the corners of each sleeve. “ I use this, and this,” the boy said pulling out two cards from within his deck. He placed them on table face up. Rufus observed the cards. He recognized each of them and smiled. Each card was strong enough in its own right, and when on the field together created a powerful engine for the boy to utilize. Rufus’s suppressed a laugh.He’ll lose before he has a chance to cast his second card, Rufus thought as he looked at the casting cost of each card. Only one had a viable casting cost. The other was far too expensive to be played competitively.“Those are some nice cards,” Rufus said feigning an interest. “If they are both out at once I can see how they could really take over a game,” Rufus said.“Exactly!” The boy said. “I have trouble with flyers though,” the boy admitted. “And people that like to block,” the boy finished. Obviously, Rufus thought.“Well here how about we make a trade,” Rufus said. He reached into his backpack and pulled out his own three ring binder. It was far smaller than the boy’s, and most of the pages were empty, or at least mostly so. “I’ll trade you this guy for your cute Tarmogoyf card,” Rufus said as he flipped to a semi filled page of his binder and pulled out a card. He placed the card face up in front of the boy.“Oh he looks cool,” the boy said noting the card’s art. A bearded man with silver and black hair was painted onto the card. He had black leather gloves, with silver gauntlets. In his right hand he held a glowing white sword. “This is a legendary soldier,” Rufus explained. “If he attacks with three other friends, you get to choose how your opponent blocks,” Rufus said. He waited for the boy to grasp what that meant. The boy looked up confused. Rufus waited longer. The boy’s eyebrows curved slightly, his mouth opened and then shut. He squinted his eyes and then opened his mouth once more.“So does that mean?”“Yes,” Rufus interrupted. “You can choose for your opponents ‘not to block,” Rufus said. He emphasized the word ‘not.’ “Or if you’d like to get rid of your opponents pesky fliers, you can force them to block whomever you want,” Rufus said.“Wow!” The boy’s eyes widened. He began reaching for his binder. His fingers touched the page that housed the tarmogoyf. Rufus felt his heart beat faster.“Wait,” a voice came from across the table. “Look at this,” the other man said as he passed his phone to the boy. On the screen was a picture of the tarmogoyf. Next to it was a number followed by another number, followed by another number then a decimal point and two zeros. “You could buy two shoe boxes full of Odrics for just one of those,” the man said to the boy. The boy looked at the screen, then back to the legendary soldier card Rufus had offered him. He closed his binder. A buzzer rang throughout the shop. The onscreen timer blinked twice, and then morphed into a list of matches.“Sorry mister, thank you for the offer, but I think I’m going to hold onto it for a while,” the boy said packing up his deck and binder. “Good luck in your match!” the boy called over his shoulder as he ran to the table with the number eight. “Let me know who wins!” the boy called."What?" Rufus said looking at the screen. He scanned the screen for his name and found it at table five.Rufus Warton versus Jason KingRufus looked across the table to see the man smiling.“Let’s go Dufus,” the man said as he walked to table five.“It’s Rufus!” Rufus called to the man’s back. He gathered his things and made his way to table five as well.“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man named Jason said as Rufus reached the table. “I must’ve misread,” Jason smirked. “You can call me King,” Jason said pulling out a green leather deck box with the picture of a tree on the front.“I’m not calling you that,” Rufus steamed. He pulled out his own jet black deck box with the picture of a smoldering skull on its front. Both players removed their decks and. Rufus shuffled his sixty card deck. They slid easily between one another in their matching jet black sleeves. Jason did the same with his matching forest green sleeves. If his opponent’s sleeves were any indication of his opponents deck, Rufus assumed he was going up against aMono Green Stompy deck.The deck would be primarily creature based. Each creature would be stronger than the last, and stronger than any other creature in a different color affiliation. It was an idiot’s deck. Cast, attack, cast, attack. There was no thought behind it. Figures, Rufus smirked. If that was indeed his deck, Rufus would have no problem mopping the floor with this guy.“High or low,” the man said as he produced a six sided die from his deck box.“High,” Rufus sneered. The man rolled the dice. It landed on a five. Rufus smiled. The man rolled the dice again. It landed on a six. Rufus snorted.“I’ll take the play,” the man said. He proceeded to draw seven cards. Rufus did the same. Rufus examined his hand. He smiled. Afterwards he looked at the top card of his deck. A picture of a ghostly black robed figure riding some sort of winged monstrosity sat atop his deck.“I’ll keep,” Rufus said. Jason nodded. He placed a card face up on the table. It was a green card. A picture of a twin trees arcing towards a golden sunset. Called it, Rufus thought. Jason turned the green forest card to the right, and placed a card upon the table. It read ‘Lens of Clarity.’ Jason opened his palm and moved it forward slightly, indicating he’d ended his turn. What a douche, Rufus grimaced at the motion.Rufus drew the top card of his deck, placing the monster riding specter within it randomly. His hand moved to another card, he took it and placed it on the table face up. A dark skull of gray and black painted the bottom of the card. Above the skull in the artwork of the card rested the half sunken rib cage of a once great beast. Rufus turned the swampy land card sideways. He took another card from his hand and placed it on the table. A picture of a man clutching his head while another dark figure gestured behind him filled the artwork box of the card. “Duress,” Rufus said in a matter of fact tone. He didn’t bother reading the text of the card.Jason handed Rufus his hand. Rufus perused it. He raised an eyebrow, and looked at Jason. Jason smirked.“This is garbage,” Rufus said giving Jason’s hand of cards a slight shake. Jason continued smirking and shrugged his shoulders. “There’s no way you can make manifest work in modern, it didn’t even work in standard,” Rufus explained. Jason remained silent. “You don’t even have any creatures in this entire hand, the only way manifest would be a threat would be if you had creatures to manifest,” Rufus continued to teach Jason how to use his own garbage deck. “Whatever easy win, get rid of this one, you won’t make it to turn five anyway with a deck like that,” Rufus said, picking a card named ‘Ethereal Ambush’ from Jason’s hand and handing all the cards back to Jason.Jason took the card Rufus had indicated and placed it to the right of his deck, in the discard pile. “Go ahead,” Rufus sighed as he sat back in his chair. He’d wanted to mop the floor with this guy, but this was going to be too easy. Jason drew another card. He smiled. He placed another forest type card down on the field. The art was exactly the same as the last he’d played. Jason tapped his second forest to the side and placed another green card on top of it. It was titled ‘Abundant growth,’ Rufus recognized the card, but was unimpressed. “Go ahead draw your card, I’ll probably just get rid of it,” Rufus teased. Jason drew a card, opened his palm and motioned towards Rufus.Rufus drew another card. It was a swamp, similar to the one he had on the battlefield. Not the best, but it really doesn’t matter I guess, Rufus thought. He placed it on the table and turned his other swamp back to its upright position. He observed his cards. He debated between whether or not to whittle away at Jason’s hand, or begin setting up his end game. He chose the latter. He tapped one of his swamp cards sideways and placed down an enchantment card. Down upon the field. Rufus sighed, and relinquished his turn. Now as long as his enchantment was down, he’d begin whittling away at Jason’s life total once Jason’s hand size fell to one or less.Jason drew another card. He placed a third forest on the table. He then looked at the top card of his deck.“What the hell?” Rufus started. Jason tapped his artifact card, ‘Lens of Clarity,’ Rufus nodded. He’d forgotten that it allowed Jason to do that. Jason tapped two of his forests and placed another enchantment onto the table. Rufus recognized this one as well. This one was was titled ‘Break through the Line.’The cogs started turning in Rufus’s head. He does have creatures in his deck? I have to see his hand again to see what he’s been drawing, Rufus concluded. Jason left one of his forests untapped. He motioned for Rufus to take his turn.Rufus drew a card. Again he was faced with a choice. Should he play the first of his creatures, or use another spell to try and gauge what Jason was planning. He decided to risk it and play the first of his creatures. He placed another swamp on the table and immediately turned each swamp to the right. He placed down a creature card titled ‘Hypnotic Specter.’Jason looked at it. Rufus saw a slight twinge in Jason’s lips as he read the creature’s ability. Rufus smiled. Good, at least he appreciates that he’s now on a clock. Rufus ended his turn. Jason drew another card. He placed another forest on the table. This put him at four. He looked at the top card of his deck, tapping his ‘Lens of Clarity’ as he did so. He tapped all of them. First he placed a white spell on the table. It read ‘Soul Summons."He placed the top card of his library face down on the table. Then from his deck box he pulled a token card out and placed it on top of the card he’d just lain face down. The token appeared to be a ball of spiky mist. It was the color of a green and white ocean. It reminded Rufus of the ghosts he’d seen in various films. Below the token was the word Manifest.Is that it? Rufus wondered as he looked upon the manifested creature. With his remaining two mana, Jason first put another card down on the table. It read ‘Ghostfire blade.’He placed the card beneath his newly manifested creature. Rufus tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table as he thought. Jason’s creature was now twice the size of his own, not to mention he had no idea what card lay hidden beneath the token. Jason passed the turn. Rufus drew a card. He placed another swamp upon the battlefield. This brought him to four lands. Rufus looked at the card he’d just drawn. It was his favorite specter. Still just small by comparison to Jason’s monster, but it by far had the most powerful ability. He just had to start picking away at Jason’s resources. Rufus turned his Hypnotic specter sideways, signalling its attack. There was nothing Jason could do to stop it. All of his lands were tapped. Jason held out his cards, making sure their backs faced Rufus. Rufus pointed to the rightmost card. Jason placed the card in his discard pile or graveyard. It was a second ‘Lens of Clarity,’ Jason also moved a twenty sided die to his right from twenty to eighteen. Well, that didn’t help much, but at least it got his hand size down, Rufus thought. Jason now only held one card. At the beginning of his next turn he’d start taking significant damage. Rufus smiled. Rufus gestured for Jason to take his turn. Jason drew a card.“No!” Rufus yelled noticing all his lands were still untapped. He’d forgotten to cast his chief specter. Jason smirked. His card had been drawn. Even if he’d wanted to, there was no way to go back and allow Rufus to complete the turn he’d just given away. Jason tapped two of his forests. He placed a gray artifact card on the table.‘Scroll of Masters.’Rufus read the card. Jason tapped two more of his lands and played a spell. He was now out of cards. However, the spell he’d played allowed him to draw a card. He did so and immediately put a forest down, bringing his land count to five. He placed a single dice upon his ‘Scroll of Masters.’ A single dot faced the ceiling, signifying the card now held one counter. Rufus winced. He eyed the single creature laid against him. It moved into the attack position. With only a single land untapped, Rufus doubted Jason had enough mana to flip whatever creature, if it was a creature, up from its hidden position. He allowed the damage to pass. He turned his own twenty sided die so that the number sixteen faced the ceiling. Now it was his turn. Rufus drew a card. I don’t need anymore swamps! Rufus thought. I placed his new swamp on the table all the same. He matched Jason’s five lands. Rufus immediately tapped four of his lands and placed his favorite card on the table.‘Shimian Specter,’Jason peered over the table and read the card. Rufus could have sworn he saw Jason’s lips tighten and a bit of color drain from his face. Rufus smiled. He tapped on the enchantment in front of him. Jason moved his life die so that the number fifteen faced the ceiling. Rufus attacked again with his hypnotic specter. Jason’s hand was empty this time, so the specters ability was useless, but the two damage the specter brought helped. Jason moved his life die again, subtracting two from his fifteen. The game was quickly going Rufus’s way. With both his specters on the field it would now be impossible for Jason to build his hand above one card, meaning he’d take three damage every turn from Rufus’s enchantment, and at least another four from both of his specters. He was not on a two turn clock at least. Rufus passed the turn.Jason drew his card. He moved his counter from thirteen to ten. Then he tapped the remainder of his lands and played a spell.‘Wildcall’.He placed the spell on the table for Rufus to read, then took the top card of his deck and put it face down on the table, placing another ghostly manifest token on top of it. He then took another die from his deck box and placed it on top of his new creature. Five dots pointed upwards at the ceiling signalling the new creature’s strength was even greater than his previous one. Rufus felt his heart quicken. As they were Jason’s creatures, wouldn’t be enough to finish him, despite their size. But there was always the threat that something bigger lay beneath. To ensure his victory he’d have to get rid of at least one of them. Rufus scanned his opponents board state. He noticed the die above Jason’s scroll had moved from one dot, to two. Jason attacked with his smaller creature. Rufus let it pass once more. He moved his life die to twelve. Jason passed the turn.Rufus drew a card. Yes, finally! Rufus thought to himself. Victory was his. He tapped two of his swamps sideways and placed his new card on the table.‘Terror’He pointed to the largest of Jason’s creatures. Jason flipped the creature over. It was a forest. Rufus snorted. What a joke, he thought. He realized he never had anything to worry about. He attacked with both of his creatures, bringing Jason’s health from ten to six. He passed his turn. Jason moved his die to three. He drew a card. He tapped a land sideways and put another Abundant growth on one of his lands. He drew a card and increased the die of his scroll to three. He placed another forest card on the table, bringing his land count to six. He sacrificed one of his unbridled growths, allowing him to draw another card. He nodded to himself then turned his remaining creature sideways. He tapped two of his forests. He flipped the creature revealing a massive hydra.He then tapped his remaining three mana and turned his scroll sideways. His hydra grew even further. Rufus began to sweat. He quickly did the math. Wait? Rufus paused. He did the math again. It’s not enough, he thought.“It’s not enough!” Rufus laughed. Jason moved his life die from three to one. Rufus cocked his head and then let his mouth drop. Jason placed his one remaining card on the table.‘Mutagenic growth,’It was a simple pump spell, increasing his hydra’s damage by two at the cost of Jason’s own life. Rufus had lost.

Driving through clouds

Yes I know that according to my last post, this is supposed to be a writing exercise using my foil. That post is still coming. Yet, I didn't feel comfortable with the prompt I left you:Write about your daily routine from the perspective of your foilThis proved to be...uncomfortable. Given the nature of 'The Foil' you can see why. If you don't see why, or missed my last post you can find it here. But, in short 'The Foil' is meant to keep yourself at a distance from the material you create. Plugging them into your life is counter intuitive.So...I'm still writing that exercise, but I am changing the prompt. I'm going to write about a hobby of mine through my foil's perspective. It's still close to home, but it's not personal. Feel free to join me in the exercise.With that out of the way!I peered through the window. I saw two...maybe three inches of black pavement. There was no railing.No railing to keep our bus from that fourth inch to the left. At that point all their was was forty feet of air. Forty feet below, the tops of trees emerged. I knew from our previous hike, each tree stood an average of sixty meters in height. The ground was a ways away, and nothing but two...maybe three inches separated me from it.I remember seeing the steep drop below...the green bushy tops of those taller than any tree I'd seen before trees. Then I saw mist. A thin white mist that turned to fog. A thick white fog that not only covered those tree tops, but even the pavement of the road beneath me. We'd entered a cloud. Driving up the mountain we'd entered a low hanging cloud. It had eliminated any and all visibility.I expected us to stop.I looked around at my classmates and the chaperones of this class trip. They were looking from one another in similar fashion. Soon all eyes fell upon our bus driver, a short but confident native whose name I can't recall. I looked at him, then to the impenetrable white beyond the window. I knew what lay a mere four inches away. I looked back at the bus driver and caught his eyes observing us his rear view mirror.KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD! I thought. Not that it would have mattered. The cloud was as thick at the front of the bus as it was at its sides.."Don't worry," the driver spoke over a speaker. "I know this drive like the back of my hand," he said in a thick Latin accent. The familiar English phrase provided comfort...for two seconds. My heart began to race. I realized I couldn't describe either of my two hands with any semblance of accuracy. But, shortly after this realization our bus emerged from the cloud.The sky was still gray, but we could see it. The cloud was behind us. I looked below to see the thin road expanding to give us several feet of leeway. I saw the tree tops farther down than before, but new trees had begun to climb us the face of the mountain. The bus stopped. The doors opened and we were allowed to walk into a wide clearing. There was railing, as well lookout points for us to see how far we'd come. From there we could look out over the entire forest. We saw where we began, a tiny blip in the distance. The abominable cloud that had eaten us looked looked lengthy wisps of smoke below. From there I saw other hills and mountains far taller than the one we had triumphed. Most of which had no sign of human intervention.It was a moment I recalled of this past weekend.This past weekend Victoria and I packed up the car and took our daughter June on her first road trip. We were traveling to meet up with family that had yet to meet our little girl.The trip went much better than expected. June has been in a 'stranger danger' mind set (as my wife calls it). This basically means she doesn't want anyone but Mommy or Daddy. Thankfully after a few minutes she was all about meeting the rest of our family.Towards the end of the day Victoria took June inside. I stayed outside to talk to one my cousins I hadn't seen in close to ten years. In the conversation he reminded me of where I was almost ten years ago. The thoughts stuck with me for the rest of the weekend.Ten years ago I was engaged to the wrong woman. Ten years ago, I had just lost the job I had been positioning myself for the better part of two years. Ten years ago, I was a college graduate with absolutely no prospects for the future. What little savings I had I'd burned through to keep from having to go home and live with my parents.I felt very much like I did while in the cloud driving up the mountain.Four inches from destructionI had to move back in with my parents. I took a part time job at a gas station chain while I searched for jobs related to my previous experiences.Turns out a creative writing degree, with a philosophy minor isn't all the rage it used to be.After a few months, I took a promotion at the part time job I had been working at. This would allow me to move out, live alone for a while. I could feel like an adult while I searched for the job I thought I deserved.It was a humbling experience. Unfortunately I fall into the Millennial generation. Unfortunately the feeling of entitlement is a symptom of the generation I'd picked up.I was a college graduate working at a gas station. I was recognized by both the military and the state as a leader. I had the certificate to prove it. I was told it would lead to something. I had fostered relationships and connections on the basis that it would lead to a career.So imagine my surprise when I was forced to start at the bottom. And not at the bottom of a publishing company. Not as an officer in the military. Nor a police rookie, but at a gas station.To say I had a chip on my shoulder would be an understatement. I deserved to be an Assistant Manager at the very least. Or so I thought. I should have been given my own store to manage within a couple months. I should have been given a corporate job, with a company car, six figure salary and full benefits. All because I had two pieces of paper that somebody told me meant something.I had to relearn an important lesson. A lesson I'd learned several times before, but I'd somehow forgotten.Nobody owes you anythingAs I talked outside with my cousin this weekend at one point he paused. He looked me up and down, and back to the house where my wife and daughter were. He sighed, smiled, and told me how proud he was of me. It was as if in that moment he looked into my past the way I have and saw how long a journey its been.While trapped in the cloud on a Costa Rican mountain, I believed I knew how to traverse the mountain better than the grizzled veteran.No one gets to the top alone.Navigating your life is hard. It's scary. Sometimes you'll want to stop and wait the cloud of uncertainty to pass. But if you ask for help, rely on the wisdom of others you can make it through. There's a quote by Tom Clancy that I've heard several times over the past few months:"An overnight success is ten years in the making" -Tom ClancyEight years later that part time job I took until I found something better has evolved. Turns out, I unknowingly applied to a Forbes top 100 company's to work for. After a lot of learning, hard work, and a handful of promotions I now have a house, a published book, a company, three dogs and best of all a wife and child.Now that's not to say all that came from one decision, quite the contrary. Everything is cumulative. I in no way, shape, or form did it on my own. I had constant support from family, friends, coworkers, peers and mentors.But after braving a few clouds, new ones seem less scary.After that brief reunion this weekend Victoria, June and I were taking our three hour drive back home. A thick fog set in about halfway through. Unlike the fog in Costa Rica, no ominous threat lingered in the air. I just looked to my right to see my wife sitting beside me. I looked to the back seat to see my baby asleep behind me.I thought about the journey so far.I felt thankful. I'm thankful for the hardships, thankful for unanswered prayers, and thankful for hindsight. But most of all I'm thankful for Victoria, and everyone's support that has helped me this far.

Who is your Foil?

"It doesn't have to be someone you hate,"My professor, Dr. Larry Heinemann instructed us."Though, if you're choosing wisely, you have probably hated them at one time or another,"-Dr. HeinemannDuring my last semester in college, my final professor challenged us with an interesting writing exercise. We were to choose a 'Foil' for ourselves.In literature, a character's foil is often his rival. It is a character that exhibits traits opposite to the other. The yin to one character's yang. Sometimes this makes them the villain of a story. Often times it does not.One example of a foil character would be Draco Malfoy to Harry Potter. Sure, while Draco is a bad guy throughout the bulk of the series, he his not the bad guy. He helps create conflict, and moves the story along. He is a fitting rival for Harry.But Heinemann's exercise wasn't to create a foil character. It was instead to choose a foil to ourselves as writers. Someone we knew in real life that was different from ourselves. His rules were as follows.Rules for your foil:1. They must be a real person2. They must be different from yourself3. You can't tell anyone who you've chosen as your foil. It must be kept a secret.Why?Why would the author or narrator need a foil of themselves?Why did that foil have to be someone real?The reason to the first 'why' was so that the author could separate themselves from their writing. Sometimes subjects can become dangerous to one's psyche.I generally think of a foil as a way to combat what Heath Ledger went through when channeling The Joker. Channeling such a sadistic character negatively affected his mental health, because his goal as an actor was to become that character. Although it would be you writing the words, it wouldn't be you narrating. You would be channeling your foil, so it would be your foil's words, your foil's thoughts.It's playing pretend. Yet for Heinemann's later assignments, I found that this was almost essential.One such assignment was to write a short story using our foil as the narrator. This story was meant to offend. Readers were meant to be visibly shaken, disturbed, or disgusted. The goal was to create something that was hard to listen to.I still remember this one story a sweet bubbly sorority girl wrote about a middle age man imbibing a concoction of vomit, urine, and other bodily fluids in the belief that the combination somehow created the fountain of youth.It still makes me gag.Disgusting but effective, as I can still remember it in unfortunate detail eight years later.My story was darker. I didn't aim to cause physical disgust. I aimed to enrage.I wrote a story about a pedophile.Distance was key in that story, and thankfully I never had to read it out loud. But that being said, the foil I'd chosen wasn't dark enough to provide enough distance. It wasn't something I could envision my foil saying, not even in jest.I destroyed the story afterwards.Then what was the point of using your foil?Well the limited distance he did provide, even in his limitations, still helped. While I'll keep his identity secret as per Heinemann's rules, I chose my foil based on his lack of respect and manners.This sounds trivial when written, but it was the way his lack of respect affected me that drew me to choose him as my foil. He was cruel without cause, he belittled for no reason, and he was a fake. The image he portrayed of himself was that of a jerk, a liar, and a bully when in reality he wasn't. I never understood why he presented himself as such. In smaller settings he was smart, funny, and likable after a time.But in large groups he strove to be the most flippant, disrespectful, and rude jack *** anyone had ever seen.Well why did your foil have to be real?I imagine our foils had to be real, because we had already humanized them. Although my story was dark, my foil couldn't get that dark, and thus gave the story restraint, if only barely.Choosing someone like Hitler, would seem easy. After all, how much could you have in common with Hitler. But you don't know Hitler. Could you see the human in Hitler? Write the pedophile story from Hitler's point of view. The story goes from dark, to nightmare in seconds, to the point that it would no longer be believable.Choosing someone you know allows you create limits.Heinemann's foil was one of his old army buddies from Vietnam. He said it was okay to share, since his foil was dead.When he first described his foil, it was easy to see why he was chosen. The man was rude, violent, and loud. The old Vietnam vet that sat in front of us teaching our class seemed to be none of those things.But, not long after Heinemann, shared a story of his foil with us.One afternoon Heinemann's foil received a call. After which he sauntered off alone. He was alone for several hours until Heinemann took it upon himself to find him.He found his foil in a crumbling church sitting on a still functioning pew. When he walked up him his foil was holding a photograph, of six young men. Heinemann recognized one of them as his foil. The foil turned to Heinemann and said:"This was my wrestling team," he pointed to each of the young men. "They're all dead. I'm the last one left," he said.Despite the man being Heinemann's foil, you could tell he felt for the man. I felt for him as I listened to my professor tell the story.***So now lets try something!1. I want you guys to pick a foil for yourselves (if you don't already have one). Remember, keep it a secret.2.Then I want you to write a small short story about your daily routine. Don't worry I'll do it too. The catch is, we're going to do it from the point of view from our foils!Email me your exercises at contact@dicebookpublishing.com I'll share them along with my own exercise next week. Be sure to include your name for attribution, or don't if you prefer to remain anonymous.

Bookslayer: A review of what I just read

Title:Night SlayerSeries: Midnight WarAuthor: William MassaGenre: Supernatural Thrillers & Suspense.Length: 183 pagesPublisher: Critical Mass PublishingFormat: EbookRelease Date: 08/18/2018Price: $0.99 at time of reviewFROM COP TO DEMON HUNTER.My Name is Jason Night. I’m a SWAT Team Commander and former Marine. I’ve experienced a lot of crazy shit in my life, and I don’t scare easily. At least not until today. After seeing my whole team get wiped out by a succubus and nearly dying myself, I’ve been recruited by a mysterious sorceress to become a soldier in a new war.Most of us use, or have heard of Goodreads. Every year Goodreads has an annual challenge. You as the user, pick some books to read throughout the year. The number of books is up to you. This year I challenged myself to read thirty books. I'm off to a slow start. So far I've read two. I started my third yesterday. Of the two, I was so impressed with one of them I thought I'd share my review.The book is Night Slayer: The Midnight War, by William Massa. It is a dark urban fantasy story. Like others in this genre events push the protagonist, Jason Night, into a hidden world. This world exists within our own sense of reality, but is bigger, scarier, and more dangerous.If you're a fan of television shows like: Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire slayer, Angel, or Grimm, then you'll like this book.If you were to compare it a book series, the Dresden Files series by Jim Butcher would be an accurate comparison. The Dresden Files created and defined today's urban fantasy genre. Night Slayer doesn't reinvent the wheel of urban fantasy. But it brings fresh ideas to the genre that keeps the book from feeling like something you've read before.Jason Night is a former Marine, that begins the story as a SWAT team captain. He is the best at what he does. His team members are the best at what they do. He knows danger, and he's no stranger to death. There isn't a threat that his experience and skill can't overcome. That is until chapter two.Jason and his team of elites are overwhelmed by an evil they've never encountered, much less understand. Jason narrowly escapes death at the hands of a demon. His team wasn't so lucky.In his escape Jason meets an ancient sorceress, who strikes a pact with him. In exchange for saving his life Jason becomes her weapon, her soldier, her Night Slayer. With his teammates deaths fresh on his mind, Jason agrees. Besides saving his life, the sorceress makes Jason stronger, faster, and grants him the ability of magic.My Review of Night SlayerNight Slayer, is the first book in the Midnight War series by William Massa. Like I said, if you're into the mentioned shows, or books akin to the Dresden Files you'll like this book. I am fans of all the above.That said there was very little I didn't like about this story. Here is my review on Goodreads.Massa has an impeccable editor/proofreader.Massa's writing is so inviting and immersive that you can't see/don't care about small errors.Chances are its a little bit of both.*Something that could be better*1. Now one thing that didn't appeal to me was Jason's plain lack of self control when it comes to sex. It's obvious that Jason's disciplined. It's also obvious that Jason has feelings for the sorceress that helps him. But, despite these two facts, Jason engages with other women on several occasions. It doesn't track with the character established in other areas of the book.*Something I really liked*1. One of the subtle (but cool things) I noticed is how Massa writes the protagonist's thoughts. The story's narrated in first person. When I write I italicize a character's thoughts when revealing inner dialogue. So do many authors, George R Martin is an example.Massa instead allows Jason's inner dialogue to run as normal text. This is interesting because Jason and the Sorceress share a telepathic link. This link will sometimes surprise Jason, and by extent the reader. Jason will be deep in thought. The reader will be gaining insight into his thought process when the Sorceress interjects her opinion. It surprises both Jason and the reader. It feels almost as if the fourth wall shattered, but not quite. It's a neat trick, and one I haven't seen before now.2. Another boon to the story is that the book doesn't end on a cliffhanger.The battle is won, but the war is far from over.The above text is telling of this book. Much like Harry Potter, each book seems to bring the protagonist closer to the final confrontation. Like Harry Potter, it ties up the story of the moment with each book. This should leave readers satisfied, but still hungry for more. The alternative being readers feeling cheated and forced to buy further into the series to gain satisfaction.ConclusionI enjoyed this book and Massa's storytelling ability. I will most likely read the series to conclusion after I've finished a few other books on my 'To Read' list. And despite my criticism of the protagonist's weird duality, it doesn't detract from the story. Therefore I give Night Slayer:Midnight War 5 stars for an exciting read. If you like content like this, or if you have a particular book you'd like me to review let me know in the comments!To meet my goal I'm reading at least three books a month. I'm about to finish up a LitRpg book,Accidental Thief by C.J Davis and then I'll probably start A Dog's Way Home, by W. Bruce Cameron