L. Jagi Lamplighter's Blog, page 11
October 26, 2016
The People’s Front wants YOU!
A reader who has done John and I a good turn asked for help recruiting for his World of Warcraft guild:
World of Warcraft Guild looking for new members:
People’s Front is a casual, yet active, old school guild on the Alliance side of the Khadgar Server. They are mid-sized and have been around since vanilla. People’s Front is a collection of good friends having a great time with WoW. They are currently working on Mythic level 5 man groups and use LFR for raid content.
Who should apply? Good question!
They are mostly looking for active players who want other active players to have fun with; maybe some PvP, maybe some end game content. If you love WoW, aren’t a jerk, and want to be a part of a fun guild that actually still has players logging in, this will make a good home for you. There’s no need to stick with your guild with only 2 people ever logging in.
Come be a part of a fun group again!
To reach People’s Front: medger.npf@gmail.com
Or: https://discord.gg/xXybd5S is the Discord link they use for voice chat.
“While you’re at it, Bodyguard-Man!” — an excerpt from PROSPERO LOST
This morning, I thought I would share with you all an exceprt from the newly reprinted PROSPERO LOST, first book in the Prospero's Children (formerly Prospero's Daughter) series. This book is great fun, and I am so glad Wordfire is giving the series new life!
In this scene, from Chapter Three, the marvelous Mephistopheles Prospero comes onstage in all his goofy glory.
I had just finished my soup and was beginning on my salad when the door into the men’s bedroom finally opened. A wet and bedraggled Mab came slouching into the parlor of our suite. Mab had been saddled with the unpleasant job of stripping Mephisto down and piling him into the shower, while I went out to purchase a new wardrobe for my brother. On the way back, I had stopped at a theater costume shop, where I had found a royal blue surcoat emblazoned with the fleur-de-lis left over from a performance of The Lion in Winter. It was my hope Mephisto would accept it as a replacement for the ghastly poncho. As best as I understood, he had started wearing ponchos to begin with as a replacement for his royal tabard.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“Admiring his new duds in the mirror,” Mab growled. “He’ll be out here soon enough, once he smells the food.”
As Mab pulled the silver dome off his lunch, the door opened again to admit my brother.
Mephisto looked like a different man. He was clean. His newly-cut hair formed a halo of wavy dark curls around his head. He wore a loose, black Russian shirt and black trousers with high black leather boots. Over the black clothes, he had thrown the royal blue surcoat emblazoned with the fleur-de-lis in silver. When he came forward and embraced me, he smelled pleasantly of Old Spice after-shave. I had not seen him look so neatly turned out in many, many years.
Mephisto leapt back. He spread his arms and threw back his head, assuming the pose he had immortalized in his statue of himself.
“Don’t you recognize me?” he cried happily.
“Of course, I recognize you, Mephisto.” I looked him over once and then gestured toward the food cart. “Ah…why don’t you pull up a chair and eat your lunch. You look famished.”
He really did, too. He was thin, almost emaciated. I wondered if he had eaten in days.
Mephisto pulled up a straight-backed chair to the serving cart of food room service had provided and began devouring the fare. He inhaled whole slices of pizza and devoured sandwich halves in a single bite. His eyes, however, remained fixed fondly, though warily, on my face.
“So?” he asked happily, his mouth full.
“I believe something may have happened to Father,” I began. “He sent me a note that suggests he ran afoul of powers he could not control. His message asked that I warn the family if I did not hear from him. When I found the message, I sent Aerie Ones to his house on the island, but he hadn’t been back since he left to come to America in September. So, I’m warning the family. Beware the Three Shadowed Ones.”
“They’re after our staffs!” Mephisto exclaimed.
“How did you know?”
“They took mine, didn’t they?”
“I thought yours was stolen by some strumpet you took home for the night.”
“That’s because you didn’t stick around to hear the whole story,” Mephisto shot back accusingly.
“You were drunk.”
“You were rude.”
This was getting us nowhere.
“Someone broke into the house and…did some damage.” I said, returning to the earlier topic. It was too soon after the lute fiasco to tell Mephistopheles about the shattered statues. “I believe it was one of these Three Shadowed Ones, and he was after our staffs.”
“I told you!” Mephisto turned to Mab. “Didn’t I tell her?”
“That’s not all, Mephisto,” I continued. “The creature that broke into the mansion…it was an incubus.”
“What!” exclaimed Mephisto
“A Power of Hell!”
“Oh, them.” He reached for a biscuit.
A shiver ran down my spine. Was Mephisto so far gone he no longer feared the servants of Hell? If so, he was not just out of it, he was dangerous to be near! Either way, it was time to do what I came to do and go.
“Look, I’ve given you Father’s warning. Now, you know. Father said to “keep close the gifts he had given.” In your case, the warning came too late. All the same. I thought you should know.”
“Who else have you warned?”
“No one yet. You’re the first.”
Mephisto wiped his mouth with one of the napkins provided. “What a good move! Now you’ll have me to help you find the others.”
“Great comfort that is,” muttered Mab, from where he sat hunched over his lunch. Apparently, he was still disgruntled from the drenching he had taken bathing my brother. Mephisto regarded Mab, and then turned back to me, cocking his head.
“Where’d you chase up this one? He looks like something out of the movies. Is he your bodyguard?”
I laughed, and Mab snorted.
“A body would have to be crazy to guard the likes of her. Always rushing in where angels fear to tread.”
I stood to perform the proper introductions. “Mephisto, this is Mab Boreal, one of the Incarnated Northerlies. He heads our company detectives. Mab, this is my brother Mephisto.”
“Detective?” Mephisto’s eyes shone brightly. “As in ‘finds lost things?’”
I nodded.
“And he’s traveling with you?…And you’re going where now? To warn the others? The others who have staffs these Three Shadowy Ones might be hunting down as we speak?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Mephisto glanced back and forth between Mab and myself. Then, he gave us his brightest smile. “When do we leave?”
“No. Absolutely not.” Mab rose to his feet and stalked over to stand in front of me. “There is no way, Ma’am, that I am going to help this kook find his magical glorified kindling.”
“’Kook?’ Who you calling a kook? Mr. Sam Spade wannabe?” Mephisto turned to me. “Tell him how great it will be Miranda. Just like old times! We’ll travel together, and I’ll help you. And, if we just happen upon my staff? Well, that’s fine, too.”
His mention of old times evoked memories of countless treks, some pleasant, some disastrous. I recalled one time Father, Mephisto, and I had gone to Switzerland to meet with a Yeti and discuss avalanches. Taking Mephisto, the Beast Tamer, instead of one of the enforcers – Theo, Titus, or Gregor – had turned out to be a mistake. Mephisto did gain a new shaggy friend he could summon up with a tap of his staff; however, nothing was ever done to improve the avalanche situation.
“No, Mephisto,” I said firmly as I pictured Mephisto’s well-meaning antics resulting in my being buried under ten feet of snow, again.
“At last, she shows some sense,” muttered Mab.
“But, you’ll need help. What if the Three Shadowed Ones attack?” Mephisto said.
Mab snorted. “What help would you be?”
“I could hit them with my lute,” Mephisto offered helpfully, evidently forgetting the instrument he had broken. Or perhaps, he was envisioning a fate for the one I had promised to buy him.
“No. I’ll leave you a little money. You won’t be destitute.” I made a mental note to dispatch an Aerie One to keep an eye on him.
“But I could help. I know I could,” he continued plaintively. “I knew how to use a sword…once.”
“No.”
“Please! Don’t leave me behind, Miranda. I’m afraid to be on my own without my staff. Please?”
I hated to hear him beg. He sounded so pathetic. Yet, I was certain if I brought him along, it would lead to another calamity such as our encounter with Yeti, or the time Theo and I were nearly drowned by his mermaid friends. We were facing the Powers of Hell, and even a slight mistake could lead to a fate far worse than frostbite.
“Come on, Mab,” I said, “We need to keep going. Lives could be at stake.”
* * *
Mab and I gathered our hats and coats. Mephisto retreated into the corner, where he sat with his arms crossed, sulking. I offered him some money, but he just threw it on the floor. I shrugged and returned to Mab.
“Do you have any more leads?” I asked, “Or must we return to Oregon?”
A crafty look came into Mephisto’s eyes. He leapt up and stepped in front of us to stand in the doorway.
“And, of course, you know where you’re going. So, you don’t need me to lead you around. But, perhaps, I’ll see you at Theo’s? Or maybe at Cornelius’s? Got to be going, now. Bye.”
He waved good-bye and started out the door. Mab and I exchanged glances.
“Mephisto! Wait!”
“Yes?” Part way down the hall, Mephisto froze as if in mid-step. He turned and leaned back toward us, cupping a hand about his ear. “You called?”
“You know where Theo is?”
“And Cornelius! And Logistilla!”
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell us?” I asked sadly.
“What do you take me for? A fool?” he asked, throwing up his hands. “But of course, I would be willing to lead you there, if…”
“If…what?”
“If you make your detective help me find my staff,” he said.
I looked at Mab. He was scowling.
“Could be a matter of life or death for some of my brothers, Mab. What if we hadn’t heard of the Three Shadowed Ones when the darkness started forming in the Great Hall?”
Mab stared at me hard for quite some time. Finally, he nodded glumly.
“Okay, Mephisto,” I said, “You have yourself a deal.”
“Yippee,” yelled Mephisto, punching the air as he leapt.
The phone rang in the room behind us.
“Could you get that Mab? It could be from our Chicago branch,” I said.
“While you’re at it,” called Mephisto. “Could you pick up the money Miranda left on the floor? I have a feeling I might want it after all.”
“Pick up your own damned money,” grumbled Mab, answering the phone. He spoke into it for a moment. Then, he picked up the money and came out, shutting the door behind him.
“It was for you, Ma’am. Front desk says there’s someone waiting downstairs to see you.” He handed me the money. I handed it to Mephisto, who wadded it up and stuck it into his pocket. Mab continued, “She hung up before I could ask any questions. I don’t like it.”
“Who could possibly know I was here, except someone from our Chicago office?” I asked. “Come on, let’s go downstairs.”
“What was it I said about ‘angels fear to tread?’” growled Mab. “Never listens to me. Okay, Ma’am, risk your neck. But I’m sticking with you. Just in case.”
“Me too!” exclaimed Mephisto.
“Great, just great,” I murmured. “You two have to promise me that if it’s a mundane business associate, you’ll both vamoose.”
“Let’s take the elevator to the second floor, then walk down the fire stairs to the lobby,” Mab said. “Just to be safe. That way we can approach from an unexpected angle and catch any assailants unaware.”
I sighed but obliged him. We took the elevator to the second floor and then found the nearest door marked “exit.” The fire stairs opened into a plush lobby covered by a maroon carpet. In the center stood a fountain surrounded by tall fronds.
Ahead, a man leaned casually against the counter. The clerk behind the counter, a pretty little brunette, blushed under his attentions. Then I saw his face.
Without hesitating, I turned and fled.
October 24, 2016
Starshipcat Promo Boost!
Starshipcat has kindly posted about my and others books. If you are looking for new reading material, this post might be the place to find it!
October 18, 2016
First Kiss!
Last day to get a FREE copy of The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin. Here is one last excerpt.
First Kiss
“Now, um…I guess I should get back to practicing,” sighed Rachel Griffin.
“Would you like to practice on an animate person?” asked Gaius Valiant. He spoke with a casual laid-back drawl, as if he were a spectator observing the drama of life and what he saw amused him.
Rachel’s eyes glittered with delight. “Sure!”
“Do you know the Word of Ending?” Gaius pulled off his robe and stood before her in a dark gray tee-shirt and sweat pants. He looked rather good that way. Not wanting to be caught staring, she averted her eyes. “It stops the effects of many cantrips and a bunch of other things, some hexes and jinxes. It’s best to know how to undo effects which may be caused in practice. Like, if you wanted to cast the paralyzing hex that I hear my dorm-mates used on you. In fact, why don’t we try that?”
Rachel’s face scrunched up. She eyed him hesitantly. “Is there something else that the Word of Ending is useful for that doesn’t require me to hex someone? What if I messed up the ending part, and you got stuck that way? That would be really embarrassing.”
He shrugged. “Well, I’d rather just be stuck here, in an out of the way place, until it wore off, than have you unable to turn me back from being a duck. Or unable to get the broccoli to stop growing from my ears. And you should practice the paralyzing hex anyway. It’s an enchantment, and it’s very useful.”
“Well…um….” She whistled the notes she had heard Cydney play the night before. Nothing happened.
Gaius smiled encouragingly. “You have to concentrate. Hold firmly in mind what you wish to accomplish.”
“Okay! Okay!” She shut her eyes tightly, as if bracing for a blow, and tried it again. She caught a whiff of pine. When she eventually opened her eyes, he was standing before her, straight as an arrow, with his arms at his sides.
“Oh!” Rachel clapped her hands to her face.
She stood there as if petrified herself. Finally, she started to raise her hand to perform the Word of Ending. Then, she paused and giggled a bit. A mischievous expression crept over her face. Walking forward, she stood on tiptoe and gave the frozen young man a very little kiss.
Running back, she formed a fist with a single finger up, and moved it horizontally in front of her, shouting, “Obé!” imitating the hand gesture motion and voice tone Magdalene had used when setting her free.
Then, she turned bright red, because, of course, now he could move and speak.
“Shall we do it again?” she cried.
Before he could answer, she whistled the same notes. Blue sparkles swirled around him, sweeping his hair upward. He froze again.
She freed him and froze him fifteen times in a row, until the whole hallway smelled of evergreen. Finally, she left him unfrozen. Surely, by now, enough time had passed that he would have forgotten the kiss.
He picked up his robe and crossed to where she stood. “One more time is appropriate I think.”
He leaned in and kissed her.
A shiver of energy rippled though her body and out her hair. She felt like a puffed-up cat on an All Hallows Eve decoration. She blushed from scalp to sole, but she felt tremendously happy.
Gaius smiled, but it was not the big, super confident smile he usually gave her. It was a bit toothier, and his cheeks, too, were sort of red.
“Well, distractions aside,” he said, “I will come by your table to get you tomorrow after dinner. I should get back to my room and actually study a bit.”
He turned and walked away at a slightly faster pace than a stroll.
Sigfried and the Skunk!
An excerpt from The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin — which is FREE through today.
“Are you going to study?” Rachel asked Sigfried, whom she found romping with Lucky in the ferns behind Dare Hall.
“Study? What’s that?” Sigfried snorted. “Certainly not. I’m going exploring.”
“Oh! Me, too!” Rachel cried, delighted. She pulled a Cadbury’s bar from her pocket and split it in half. “Chocolate?”
Sigfried’s eyes became very round. “Ace! I had one of these once. One of the other boys nicked some from a corner shop. Boy, was it good.” He shoved the entire half of the chocolate bar into his mouth, except for a small piece that he broke off and tossed to Lucky. He tried to keep talking, but Rachel could not make out what he was saying.
She giggled. “Do you want to explore on foot or by broom?”
“Whets go wy woom.”
Rachel and Sigfried climbed on Vroomie, and the two of them were off, with Lucky following close behind. They swooped over walled gardens and glided above the sun-speckled ferns that grew beneath the paper birches. Then they sped across the commons and beyond, to the hemlocks. Soaring upward, they burst above the branches into the brilliant fall sky. Small birds flocked together, calling to one another as they gathered to head south. Rachel watched their freedom with a sense of joy. Recalling the statue of the young woman with the bird wings, she wondered what it would be like, to fly as they did—probably a great deal like flying on a broom only more wonderful.
The first orange leaf of autumn drifted down to land in the creek. Lucky dived in and snaked through the water, a red and gold flicker beneath the surface.
Looking down at his friend, Sigfried asked suddenly, “Hey, when do we learn to run so fast we leave a sonic boom?”
Rachel laughed. “No one can do that.”
“Mr. Chanson, the gym teacher, can.”
“That’s impossible. People have tried such things, but they get ripped apart. You’d have to be invulnerable.”
“Chanson can do it. I want to do it, too.”
“No, he can’t!”
“Yes, he can. Lucky saw him. I watched through Lucky’s eyes. Chanson crossed the campus so quickly, he looked like a blur.”
“That’s…impossible.” Rachel frowned. She sighed blissfully at the thought of the handsome physical education teacher. Then, her eyes widened. “Unless… Hey! I bet you he’s from Outside!”
“You mean he was born in the woods?”
“No.—Like Lucky. Lucky has magic from outside that turns off near the raven. I bet you Mr. Chanson is from another world, too. We should ask the princess to shake his hand.”
“A Metaplutonian! You may be right!” Siggy’s face fell, and he scowled. “But that would mean that I couldn’t learn to do it, wouldn’t it? And the princess says it’s impossible to turn into a dragon. Life is so unfair!”
***
They flew up the river, through the hemlocks, to where it emerged from underground on the inner side of the wall of trees that marked the wards of the school. Circling back, they flew toward Roanoke Hall from the back side.
Leaning forward, Sigfried pointed at the central belfry. “Hey, can we stop there?”
“Sure.” Rachel flew to the spot Sigfried had indicated. Part-way up the belfry, buttresses arched out from around a central cylindrical core. There was just enough room for them to land. Siggy peered in the window at the spiral staircase within. Then, laying on his stomach, he pulled some grubby sandwiches from his pocket and stuffed them into the gargoyle-tipped drain pipes.
Rachel watched him, perplexed. “Siggy, why do you stick sandwiches in your robes? Aren’t you afraid your clothes will end up smelling like food?”
Stretched out on his stomach, Siggy answered absently, “I like the smell of food. But you are right: keeping it in my pockets is too obvious. I have been finding hiding holes and nooks about campus where it can be kept safe, and squirrels and grown-ups won’t find it.”
Rachel leaned against an arched buttresses. “You are hiding food from grown-ups?”
Siggy threw her an odd look. Climbing back to his feet, he lowered his voice conspiratorially. “That’s how they control you, you know. Grown-ups control kids by controlling the food supply. But they can’t keep you from running away if they can’t keep you hungry.”
Bewildered, Rachel asked, “Why would grown-ups take away our food?”
Siggy looked left and right, as if he feared being overheard. “Listen. You’re young yet. This world is going to chew you up like bubble gum and blow you up until you pop and get stuck in someone’s hair. And I mean chew you with its back teeth!
“You just don’t get it,” he continued. “Grown-ups take things away. Food. Lights. Your mattress. That’s what they do. Grown-ups take things. You’ve got to be ready.”
“Is this what your life was like?”
“It’s not just me. Hunt understands all this. She’s seen a few things, Goldilocks has. Did you know that she found a dead body once? Just floating in the water. Even I’ve never been that lucky.”
“I…didn’t know that about Valerie,” Rachel replied weakly.
“Listen, I wouldn’t normally do this, but you’re pathetic. You’ll never survive on your own, so—here. It is half a sausage and a handful of scrambled eggs I managed to sneak out of the cafeteria, when no one was looking. You hide it. When you are put on short rations for something you’ve done, you go to where it is hidden and eat it. You’ll feel better. A mouthful of food makes you stop crying. You can’t let them see you cry. They sense weakness.”
Siggy pulled a wiggling lump of yellowish substance out of one of his pockets and offered it to Rachel. Moisture dripped from between his fingers. In his other hand he had a cylinder of meat with a bite out of one end, covered in lint. A pungent odor assailed her nostrils.
“It will go bad.” Rachel stared at it in mesmerized horror, trying to keep her stomach from roiling. She wanted to take it from him, the way she had accepted his goopy handshake, but she could not get her hand to jerk toward him.
Siggy looked surprised. He put the offering down on the ledge of the nearest window. “Go bad? You can stay out of trouble long enough for your food stores to go bad? Wow! What’s your secret? How do you not get caught?”
“I don’t have any food stores!” Rachel held onto the buttress with one arm and waved her other one around emphatically.
“What about that stuff you gave me? The chocolate?”
“That was a present from my father. He gave it to me this morning. But I don’t have anything else,” Rachel insisted, “just what’s in my pocket.”
Siggy looked stricken. “That’s—that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard! Come on, you can have some of mine. Otherwise you have nothing to fall back on when the bad times come.”
“But—”
Siggy’s expression darkened. “The bad times always come.”
“Siggy! It doesn’t work that way here at school. The kitchens will have food every day. If they stopped for some reason, my parents would feed us.”
“I can see I am going to have to take you under my wing. Parents make you weak. You cannot rely on them.”
“Um…” Rachel’s whole body ached with sorrow, but she could not think of anything to say. Her heart swelled with gratitude for her parents. Her problems with her father were nothing compared to this. How unfair that she could not share her family with Sigfried.
Siggy stuffed the unaccepted food back into his pockets. Standing so close, Rachel noted a huge mud stain covered the front of his black robe. They climbed back onto Vroomie and set off circling the campus slowly. Rachel mused quietly, wondering if the matter of Siggy’s robes were any of her business. Finally, she resolved that she should say something. After all, in stories, friends looked after one another.
“Um…Siggy…” Rachel tugged on his sleeve, where his arm encircled her waist. “I can’t help noticing that you’ve been wearing this same robe for four days. It’s getting kind of dirty. You do know that if you put it in the bin in the corner, the bean-tighe will come do the laundry, right?”
“The what? The Band-aids?”
“The bean-tighe. The fairy housekeepers. They look like tiny old women in old-fashioned peasants’ clothing.”
She could feel Sigfried shrug behind her. He said, “It’s the only one I have. If I washed it, what would I wear in the meantime?”
“You only have one robe?”
“Yep.”
“But…” Rachel blinked. She looked down at where his bare feet hung beneath them. “Don’t you have any shoes?”
“Nope. Outgrew my last pair. They pinched my toes. Hurt a lot. The nuns never got around to getting me new ones.”
The cup of pity in Rachel’s heart overflowed. “Siggy, you can’t go to school here with just one robe and no shoes! This is New York. It is going to get very cold. You need boots and a hat and sweaters to wear under your robes and many other things.”
“I suppose I could use some of my gold to buy clothing.” Siggy winced, as if parting with a single piece of his treasure caused him physical pain. “But I don’t know how to go about it. There are no shops in my dorm.”
“Would you like me to do it for you? Buy you a proper wardrobe?” she asked hopefully. “Some things can be bought at Roanoke Alchemical Shoppe under Raleigh Hall. It’s similar to the bookshop under Dee, only it sells alchemical supplies, robes and gear. Other things can be ordered. I have all the catalogs.”
“Catalogs of what?”
Rachel craned her neck to look back over her shoulder, trying to discover from his expression if he were kidding. His eyes were squinting against the wind.
“Clothing catalogs,” she said. “For buying shoes and things through the post.”
“Is that allowed? That would be a great relief!” he cried, his voice quite sincere. “Girls are supposed to be good at that kind of thing, aren’t you? You order for me, and I’ll give you the money. But I can only spare coins I don’t like as much. Some are scuffed or melted around the edges. The former owner exploded when he died.”
Rachel blinked. “Oh! You mean the dragon!”
"Yep. So, yeah. I can pay.”
“Fine. Wait just a second.” Rachel shot back to Dare Hall and dropped Siggy off in the feathery ferns behind the dormitory.
***
Bending low over the handlebars, she shot into the air and through the open window into her room. Once there, she quickly gathered some of the catalogs in her trunk. As she did so, she noticed the tiny lion sitting in a splash of sunlight in the center of the room, washing.
Rachel looked left and right. No one was around. Squatting down, she smiled at the little tawny creature. “Hello. Your name is Leander, right?”
It cocked its head and looked up at her.
Rachel leaned forward and whispered, “Can you tell me what is going on?”
The tiny feline stared at her with its wide golden eyes.
Undaunted, Rachel continued, “What does it mean that ‘one of your children’ was brought here and you’re in her heart? Who is the Raven? Why does he want you to leave?”
With supreme dignity, the lion began to lick its paw. Rachel sighed. Jumping on her broom, she hurried back to Siggy.
***
She found Sigfried and Lucky with their heads bowed together, concentrating. Sigfried had his right hand up, his fingers together, the gesture Mrs. Heelis had used when she conjured Jemima Puddleduck.
“So, what was the word that nun…er, I mean tutor…used to conjure stuff?”
“Muria, but don’t…” Rachel began.
“No. Lucky and I can do this! Watch!” Sigfried lowered his hand, just as the teacher had. “Muria!”
Rachel felt that familiar feeling, as if she were waking from a dream, that often accompanied conjuring. An animal now waddled among the ferns—a black animal with a long white stripe that ran from its forehead to its back before splitting into two strips that continued to its black bushy tail. An unpleasant stink struck her nostrils.
“Look, it worked!” Sigfried shouted gleefully. “I conjured something! I think it’s an American animal! Here, Kitty, Kitty!”
“Siggy…that’s a…”
Lucky shouted, “Skunk!”
The frightened creature lifted its tail. Something horrid shot out, spraying all over Sigfried and his only robe. The stuff stank dreadfully. Rachel’s eyes watered painfully.
“Lucky, get it!” Siggy threw up his arms to protect his face. Bringing his hands down again and gesturing, he shouted, “Ti!”
The still-spraying skunk wobbled into the air. Rachel was duly impressed that Sigfried could lift something so heavy with just the up cantrip. She could only lift heavier things if she used the more advanced Tiathelu, and the skunk looked much heavier than her old tome. Siggy held up two fingers and gestured as if to fling the skunk away. To Rachel’s surprise, it went flying. Lucky breathed on it.
The putrid spray coming from the skunk caught fire. Stinking and flaming, the skunk flew end over end into a crowd of students, who were walking down the gravel path to Dare Hall. They screamed and ducked to no avail. The free-flying spray flew everywhere. Students grabbed their eyes, shrieking. Two girls were struck with flaming skunk-fluid, and their garments caught fire. The first one stopped, dropped, and rolled. The other pointed at her burning skirt and performed a cantrip. The flames sputtered and died.
As everyone else ran, Siggy charged toward the skunk. First, from one of the large inner pockets of his robe, he pulled the trumpet he had borrowed from Music and blew. A blast of air slammed the skunk into a tree. Then he shouted for Lucky, who sped forward and breathed again. This time, there was a brief whoosh, and a ball of fire.
The conjured creature vanished with a pop.
The crowd cheered. With not a single trace of shame, Siggy grinned and bowed. Then he clasped his hands overhead like a prizefighter, basking in their adulation. Pinching her nose against the stench, Rachel watched, amused and embarrassed. When Sigfried glanced back at her warily, she winked. Today, Sigfried was a hero for saving the school from a flying, flaming skunk.
No one would ever learn otherwise from her.
October 17, 2016
Why is Rachel Griffin 13?
One of the hardest problems I had when I started the Books of Unexpected Enlightenment was: What age should Rachel be?
This issue turned out to be extraordinarily difficult. To this day, some readers are not happy with the solution. Here are some of the issues that went into the decision:
Rachel must be young: In the original game, Rachel was very young—younger even than in the book. This meant that she was facing problems that were way above what she should have had to deal with at her age. Things that were hard. Things that should not have happened to someone so young.
The result was that she felt everything that happened much more strongly than she might have, had she been older. This was one of the qualities that I liked about the character, one of the things that I felt made her a sympathetic heroine I wanted to write about…the rawness and sincerity with which she faced her experiences.
I did not want to lose that. Therefore, for the story to work, Rachel had to be quite young.
Old enough for young readers: Current wisdom has it that kids like to read about characters who are older than they are. This suggested that Rachel should be older than the intended reading age.
Thus, I wanted to make her as old as I could get away with.
If I picked an age that was two years older than the ideal reading audience, however, Rachel would be 17 or 19. That is too old for the above criteria.
Dating: When I was young, I recall some of my friends kissing and dating at 11. However, I have discovered that some adult readers report are repulsed by the idea of a young girl having a boyfriend. In my first draft, Rachel was 12. I received complaints from some Beta Readers. Even now, when she’s 13, I still get complaints from people—usually parents of girls—who find the book uncomfortable.
The problem is: Part of the plot requires that Rachel be too young to be dating. When I started the series, my daughter’s classmates were 12 to 14…and many had boyfriends. More recently, the 13-14 year old boys in our Boy Scout Troop had girlfriends.
These kids certainly did not think middle school age was too young to date. If anything, I ran the risk of them finding the reluctance of those around Rachel to the idea of her dating unbelievable.
Rachel finds her age:
So how do I find an age that adults would be willing to read about and kids wouldn’t find too old to be believable?
Twelve was, apparently, too young for older readers to stomach, and fifteen was too old for younger readers to find realistic.
That left 13 or 14.
In choosing between these two numbers, I considered one additional issue. Every time I increased Rachel’s age, I also had to increase the age of the characters around her. Twelve-year-old Rachel might not be that different from fourteen-year-old Rachel but nineteen-year-old Dread was quite different from twenty-one-year-old Dread!
In the original game, Gaius was 14. Making Rachel older made Gaius older, too. As he became 16, 17, or 18, his relationship with young Rachel seemed more disturbing rather than less.
Finally, I decided to go with 13. That put Gaius at 16, and I made Dread a year younger in relation to Rachel, which put him at 19.
Was it ideal?
Few things in life are ideal. No matter what age I pick, someone will have a personal experience that leads them to find her too old or too young. I think, however, that 13 is the age that best meets the needs of the story.
Before I close, I want to take a moment to make a brief statement. Sometimes, an author writes about a child of a given age doing a certain thing, and critics respond, “Author X thinks it is fine for children of X age to perform Z action.”
So, just in case it is not clear: Rachel’s having a boyfriend at 13, or being kidnapped at 13, or fighting demons at 13 is not intended to be approval on my part, or to suggest that I think children should behave in such a fashion.
There are many children in the world who do have to face things no child should face. The Books of Unexpected Enlightenment are about one such girl. They tell the story of how she is pulled into events that tax her beyond what someone her age should have to endure, and how—through diligence and friendship—she perseveres in the face of increasingly overwhelming odds.
It is meant to show how the human spirit triumphs under adversity—not to recommend adversity as a way of life.
In closing, once, during the roleplaying game that inspired these books, the moderator of the game, attempting to defend some decision made by Rachel’s parents, turned to John and I and asked would we let our own 11-year-old go out alone and fight demons.
My immediate response was: “My eldest son is 12. I don’t let him pour milk!”
Through October 18th:
The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin is still FREE
The Raven, The Elf, and Rachel is 99 cents
And presenting:
Rachel and the Many-Splendored Dreamland
Also, there is now an audio version of The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin avaiable on Amazon and Audible.
October 15, 2016
What Age Are the Rachel Griffin Novels For?
You think this would be an easy question…but it's not. Let me ask you:
What age are fairytales for? What age are Grimm's fairytales for? What age is Ursula LeGuin's A Wizard of Earthsea for?
When I was young, books were categorized much differently than they are now. Fantasy was closer to its fairytale roots, so many books were intended for adults, but written in a fairytale style.
This made them fun for kids to read.
But they weren't written for kids. The problem with saying, "It's for kids" is that in our current culture, that is often read as "not for adults."
A Wizard of Earthsea was one of my favorite books when I was between 12 and 15. If you haven't heard of it, it is the book that invented the idea of wizard schools. I love Harry Potter and Hogwarts, but in my heart Roke will always be THE wizard school, because I had fallen in love with it decades before Hogwarts came along. (Though Hogwarts for high school and Roke for college would be a great combination!)
Nowadays, I sometimes see A Wizard of Earthsea in the YA section. But it wasn't written for teens. It was written for adults. It just happened to have a young character.
On top of that, there is the fact that when YA got started, it was actually meant for Young Adults. It was publishing gimmick to take some good but not too difficult adult books and repackage them to attrack the attention of readers in their late teens and early twenties. Readers moving from kids stuff to adult stuff who might like a book that has a young appeal.
Then twelve-year-olds started reading what the older kids were reading. Then, parents started complaining about what was in the YA books, and the current tug of war started–where no one in the industry really knows what a YA book is supposed to be like. (Or at least it was like that ten years ago. Maybe they've settled it by now.)
Back to the Books of Unexpected Enlightenment. Putting aside the very first book, which I did write to a slightly younger level, this series is like these older books. They are written for…readers.
That being said: this series is targeted at older teens. By targeted, I mean that the questions being explored are ones that older teens might be facing or interested in, so they are the group I hold foremost in my mind when I consider how the story is presented. This despite the fact that Rachel the character, happens to be 13.
So, if when you ask "what age are the books for", you mean "are they interesting enough for adults", the answer is definitely yes. Most of my readers at the moment are adults, only because I haven't managed to reach many teens yet. (The teens who have read the series love it.)
But, if what you mean is: How young is the series safe for, that's a very different question.
Rachel herself is 13 in the first five books. In these books I have tried to tone down the more mature elements. A few very disturbing things happen, but I try not to sensationalize them in any way, so they are not dwelled upon.
I have readers who are ten and 12. (I have parents who have read the books to younger kids. But, of course, if you are reading aloud, you can skip over any clear indication of what happened to Valerie Hunt, descriptions of Carthaginian sacrificial rites, and the other more disturbing aspects of the story. )
If you ask me, myself, I would say 12 is a good starting age, but a precocious ten-year-old might do well.
The later books will deal with more mature issues and more disturbing occurrences. They will however remain in the same general mood and flavor with the same moments of brightness and wonder. It’s just that great accomplishments require terrible adversaries, and terrible adversaries are…terrible.
I would put the starting age for those books at 15.
So, short answer? The books are for everyone. They are particularly intended for young people who are actively considering their own ethics, principles, etc. These early books are probably appropriate for 12-year-olds, though some younger readers have enjoyed them.
They are books, for readers.
Hope that helps. I might add that about the same thing—minus the slight change in maturity level as the series continues—could be said about the age level of John’s Tales of Moth and Cobweb series.
Enjoy!
Through October 17th, The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin is still FREE
Through October 17th, The Raven, The Elf, and Rachel is 99 cents
And presenting:
Rachel and the Many-Splendored Dreamland
Also, there is now an audio version of The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin avaiable on Amazon and Audible.
October 13, 2016
The Triumph of Rachel Griffin
Six years ago, just about this time of the year, a couple of my closest friends decided to start a new roleplaying game. I wasn't really interested. I had young kids. I felt played out. Most of the games I'd played in for some years didn't have the kind of indepth structure and characterization that allowed me to do the kind of things I find interesting in a game. I would have said no.
Except, John wanted me to play. And, besides, it was a chance to hang out with my other two friends, one of whom I had known since he was a boy, but seldom got to see. So I said yes.
In some ways, that was the best decision…and the worst decision…of my life.
This game was not like any other I had ever played, and it absorbed my attention like rain on a desert sponge. John and I loved it! And, we hated it. It was painful–in game and out–it was divisive. It was like walking on knives while being struck by hail.
Burning yet frozen, pointy hail.
But, I refused to give up.
Why? Because, sometimes, it was more magical than anything I had ever seen. And I don't mean magic like flash-sparkle. I mean magic like the Magic From Before The Dawn of Time. The kind that saved Aslan after he gave his life up for Edward and was killed by the White Witch.
It was a game with that kind of magic.
Terrible things would happen and then wonderful things, and John and I would turn to each other, eyes agog, and cry out, "This really deserves to be in a book."
Five years ago, just about two weeks ago, I decided to take a stab at it. I wasn't serious at first. I had a series I had started. It was based on another game, with a character I loved more than any other. I had waited since the late 80s to write that series. I wasn't interested in doing something else.
But, just for the heck of it, I decided to give it a shot. Secretly, without really telling anyone.
My first few openings were dumb. No, really. Dumber than that. You'll have to trust me on this.
Then, I had a thought. What if I opened with the moment when Rachel woke up on her first night at school and overheard the Raven talking to the Lion. Wasn't that where it really began? The wonder? The awe? Everything that mattered?
So I wrote it that way…and the whole thing just came to life.
I needed a world to put the story in. The one from the game was borrowed. So, I started borrowing from myself. Anything John or I had made up before that I thought was cool.
My twelve year old son (at the time) had made up a magic school on the Island of Roanoke. His idea was that the reason that the colonists were never found was that they hid using magic. I loved this idea, but I wasn't that keen on writing about a place I didn't know much about. I wanted this new magic school to be someplace wondrous. Some place I loved. Some place that came teaming with magic.
I picked The Hudson Highlands, just a bit north of Sleepy Hollow, right next to Storm King Mountain, a place I had thought magical since childhood.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered that there was an island just off of Storm King, and there was a castle on it–one of the very few castles in New York.
So, I made Roanoke a floating island. Then, I made up why it stopped floating. (Answer in Book Three.)
But what kind of school was it? I didn't want to make it yet another boarding school, there are dozens and dozens of boarding school books out there, and I didn't really know that much about how one ran.
But there was one school I knew intimately–a school like no other: St. John's College in Annapolis. St. John's is a magical place. Things aren't done like they are in other places. There are central tables instead of rows. We read the original works instead of textbooks. We had tutors instead of professors. So, I put that in the book. (Every time I describe our sports program in the novels, my editor tells me it is unrealistc. "No one would ever actually do that.)
Then, I searched the web, found the coolest places, buildings, and trees I could find pictures of, and wove them together into a campus. I even have a little map made of pictures I shrunk down. It's weird looking…but filled with awesomeness.
Four years ago. I was finished with the book, but what to do with it? I gave it to my agent. He told me every major publisher already had a magic school series. He had been shopping aroudn a few good ones. No one would even look at them. He sent it somewhere though. I never heard back.
Three years ago, I decided to go with a small press. After some of the experiences I had had with a big publishing house, I wanted to have more control over the way things were done. I chose Dark Quest because a friend I liked working with worked for them. But I had one stipulation.
I was going to choose the cover myself.
No one knows why a series succeeds or fails, but after the 20 years of work I poured into, my Prospero series basically failed (despite very ardent fans) and my editor thought it was the covers. They were not bad. Quite the contrary. But they gave a very wrong impression of the story. As witnessed by:
If you were in the mood for the cover on the left,
would you be happy if you ended up with the story on the right?
So, this time, I wanted it to be done right. I scoured artists. I contacted some of my favorite cover artists. Some of the best in the field. But I also asked a friend for a sketch.
The sketch was wonderful! And Dan Lawlis (former Marvel and DC artist) has been my cover artist ever since!
So, I bought my own cover and Dark Quest published the book under its new YA imprint, Palomino Press.
Two years ago, The second book came out. This book was even more fun that then first, because I had gotten some of the basics down and could begin to develop the characters and background. But it was still constrained by the limits of the oddness of the early section of the game. So I was really delighted to write Book Three, where the story actually comes into its own. Also, my former editor for Tor was now editing the books, which made them even better.
But then…Dark Quest stopped responding, or paying. Apparently, the publisher was ill. I eventually got my rights back and moved to a new publishing company run by a friend.
One year ago, Book Three, which I am told is my best novel yet, was supposed to come out. But it did not. This second publisher folded, due to illness of two of its members.
So, finally, after much prayer and meditation, I decided to go indy. I already had my own covers, my own copyeditor, my own punctuation editor, my own cover designer. I just needed a typesetter…and one presented himself by typesetting the manuscripts as a gift.
So, now, at long last, the third Book of Unexpected Enlightenment: Rachel and the Many-Splendored Dreamland, is live and available to read. It begins with little sorceress Rachel Griffin falling out of the land of dreams onto her derriere, and where it ends…
…you will have to read it if you want to find out.
In honor of the release, there is a sale!
Book Two: The Raven, The Elf, and Rachel is on sale for 99 cents.
Book One: The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin is FREE
Also, the Audiobook for The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin is now live.
Also, the new versioni of Prospero Lost just went live, too.
Current Book Trailer here (still a work in progress.)
September 28, 2016
Guest Post: Noblebright Fantasy: An Overview
This idea seems to have much in common with Superversiveness.
Noblebright Fantasy: An Overview
Light in the Darkness: A Noblebright Fantasy Boxed Set (link goes to Amazon)
Several years ago I was fortunate enough to connect with another indie author, Mike Reeves-McMillan, who wrote a lovely review of The King’s Sword, which he described, tongue-in-cheek, as “cheerybright.” He meant that the world wasn’t perfect, but good characters exist and can make a difference in their world and society through actions defined by honesty, integrity, and self-sacrifice. While the term cheerybright certainly made me smile (and was a lovely counterpoint to grimdark), we eventually discovered the term “noblebright.”
The term noblebright was originally something of a joke from the gaming community. The quintessential grimdark game Warhammer 40k (which I have not played, being neither a gamer nor a fan of grimdark) was rewritten as Brighthammer 40k. Some brilliant unknown person (thank you, whoever you are!) described the rewrite as “noblebright”, which we liked because it focused on the motivations of the characters rather than a perceived cheerfulness which wasn’t reflected in all the books we meant when we talked about this previously-unnamed subgenre of fantasy.
So what is noblebright fantasy?
Noblebright fantasy has at least one important character with noble, idealistic motives who does the right thing out of principle. The character is flawed, but his or her actions are generally defined by honesty, integrity, sacrifice, love, and kindness. The story upholds the goodness of the character; the character’s good qualities are not held up as naiveté, cluelessness, or stupidity, but rather shown to be worthwhile. Good characters can make a difference. Noblebright characters can learn and grow. They can deliberately choose to be kind when tempted to be unkind, they can choose generosity when it hurts, and they can influence their world and other characters for the better. In a noblebright story, even villains are not without hope; their stories may have a redemptive ending, or they may have some kind of conversion experience (religious or not). It’s not guaranteed, of course, but in a noblebright story, it’s a possibility.
Noblebright fantasy is not utopian fiction. The world of a noblebright story is not perfect, and indeed can sometimes be quite dark. Actions have consequences, and even good characters can make terrible mistakes. But a noblebright story is generally hopeful in tone, even if there are plenty of bad, grim, dark things going on in the world.
Light in the Darkness: A Noblebright Fantasy Boxed Set (link goes to Barnes & Noble: Nook)
Noblebright Fantasy: Intersections with Other Fantasy Subgenres
First, a few definitions:
Clean fantasy – Clean fantasy is fantasy that does not include sex or graphic violence. Clean fantasy is very often noblebright, but not always. It is often written for young adults, but not always. It is “young-adult appropriate” even when written for adults. Not all noblebright fantasy is clean, but much is.
Young adult (YA) fantasy – Young adult is an age range, not a genre, so young adult books of any genre have the age range (13-17 years old) in common. Young adult books are typically written with slightly simpler vocabulary, grammar, and syntax than books written for adult readers. They often, but not always, have a coming of age element to the story, and almost always have a young adult protagonist or main character.
Not all coming of age books are young adult books. “Coming of age” is a theme in the story, while young adult defines the intended audience. A coming of age story might be written from an adult perspective looking back and intended for adult readers rather than young adult readers.
As an amusing aside, I’ve found a number of definitions that define “young adult” as ages 20-39, but in literary terms, “young adult” means basically middle school and high school age, so 13-17 years old. 18-24ish tends to fall under “new adult” which is a recent term for books with college age protagonists (whether or not they’re enrolled in college).
Christian fantasy – Christian fantasy is written with a clear Christian perspective, with either allegorical or direct reference to Christian theology. Most Christian fantasy books will be fairly clean, but that’s not an absolute guarantee (I believe some of Ted Dekker’s darker stories may be more graphically violent than would fall under the “clean fantasy” descriptor.). Most Christian fantasies will be noblebright in character even if the world is dark, but not all noblebright fantasies will be Christian fantasies.
To use my own books as examples (because I know them best):
The King’s Sword and the rest of the Erdemen Honor series are noblebright, clean fantasy, but not Christian fantasy. You can easily identify themes of integrity and sacrificial love, but there is no religious component to the story. They are not YA, although both The King’s Sword and Honor’s Heirhave a coming of age thread within the story, because the stories are written for adults from an adult perspective.
Things Unseen and the rest of the A Long-Forgotten Song series are clean Christian fantasy. I’ve described them as “darkish” at times because they’re more violent and scary than Erdemen Honor. However, it’s the world that is darkish; most of the characters you spend the most time with are verynoblebright. Is it clean? Well, some of the violence is a little graphic, but I think most parents would probably be ok with even younger teenage readers reading it, so it’s clean or at least cleanish. It’s the polar opposite of grimdark… there is hope and redemption and grace in a very dark world. The darkness is there not for the reader to wallow in but to highlight the magnificence of grace.
We’re starting a movement.
I want to make noblebright fantasy a thing the way grimdark is a thing. I want you to be able to search for noblebright fantasy on Amazon and find it. I want to bring noblebright into the spotlight the way grimdark has held the spotlight for years.
We need your help.
I’m assembling a series of boxed sets of noblebright fantasy books. They’re great books with a noblebright perspective, at a great price. We want to hit the bestsellers lists.
I’d love to be a bestseller, of course. But more than that, I want to get noblebright fantasy out to the world. I want to let people know that fantasy doesn’t have to be grim and dark and cruel and hopeless. There is hope and light and kindness and joy in fantasy! I want to give devoted fantasy readers a new perspective, and I want to attract readers who might have been turned off of fantasy by the recent trend toward grimdark.
How you can help:
Do you believe in noblebright fantasy? Here’s what you can do:
Buy the books! You can check out the boxed sets or seek out the individual books you’re interested in. I will post reviews of all the books in sets that I organize on my blog.* The first boxed set is available here! Amazon | Barnes & Noble Nook | Kobo | iBooks
Search for noblebright! I’m working with other authors to make noblebright more widely known, and we’re using noblebright as a keyword on Amazon and other retailers. So you can search to find other noblebright books by using it as a search term. Like this (click here!).*
Write reviews for the books you enjoy! Using the noblebright term in your review will help that book come up more easily in searches by readers searching for noblebright fantasy. Not sure how to write a review? I wrote some tips here.
Spread the word! If you’re a blogger, blog about noblebright as a new subgenre or about the noblebright books you’ve enjoyed. Do you tweet? Tweet about it! Tell your friends!
Sign up for my mailing list! I don’t have (and don’t want) ownership over the noblebright term. But I do have a leadership role in this movement, and I am organizing these first noblebright boxed sets. As a Christian reader and author, I plan to let you know where noblebright fantasy, clean fantasy, and Christian fantasy intersect and overlap in the books I’m reading and the boxed sets I’m organizing, to help you select books you will love.
*At one point I was advised to trademark the term noblebright in order to ensure that the definition remained relatively static and that it was not applied to books which included material that was problematic in some way. I chose not to do this. I believe authors who write noblebright understand the point of noblebright and the limits of the term. I’d rather have noblebright spread than keep ownership of it. I understand, and I want to make you aware, that not all noblebright fantasy will be completely consistent with a conservative Christian worldview. Noblebright is a term that describes a general attitude of hope and goodness and nobility in the work, but does not necessarily mean that the author is a Christian or that the work is completely devoid of content that you personally may find problematic or challenging in some way. If you’re a Christian reader, this is a new way to find books you might enjoy. If you are not a Christian but are looking for books that are more hopeful than what has been in vogue recently, noblebright is your new favorite search term.
***
Jagi here again. For more from C. J. Brightly,see her blog here.
