Jonathan Moeller's Blog, page 320

Reader Question Day #61 – foreign languages and The Devil’s Agent

Father Z asks, concerning my novella THE DEVIL’S AGENT:

Sadly, it’s already out of print (or whatever the term is for an ebook on Amazon!).

Actually, a while back I renamed it to THE DEVIL’S AGENT, and it’s available here:

http://www.amazon.com/Sell-Soul-Get-Published-ebook/dp/B005FAKLCM

Sorry for the confusion!

THE DEVIL’S AGENT is about a frustrated writer who, unable to get published, signs an agreement with Satan’s literary agent. However, the agent promptly rejects the frustrated writer’s manuscript as “unsuitable for the literary needs of Hell”…which causes a chain reaction of unexpected consequences.

I wrote that back in 2002 or 2003, I think. Since then, of course, ebooks and self-publishing came along, so I had to rewrite the novella to reflect that. So now it’s sort of a meta-joke on writers who think they are too good to self-publish.

Pepe asks:

Hi Jonathan, I’ve just finished the demonsouled series and I’m looking forward for the next one. I am a big fan of fantasy but it is hard to find well written and strong stories like yours. Your style is just worderful to me. Mazael my hero. I got a couple of books waiting but I will get back to you and read your other novels soon.

Have you considered to translate your series into Spanish?

Thanks for the kind words about the books! I’m glad you like them.

I definitely would like non-English translations. That said, a good translator is *expensive* – translating a novel-length work can be anywhere from $5000 to $15000, depending on the translator. So for now, a non-English translation isn’t feasible for me to do, alas.

-JM

choose your own adventure, a terminal episode

You raise Heartwarden and use the power of the sword to dispel the spell upon you.

And…exactly nothing happens.

Too late you realize that Gotha worked the spell on herself, using her magic to fill her voice with irresistible command.

“Kill him!” shouts Gotha.

A heartbeat later the archers on the church steps and roof release, and dozens of arrows slam into your chest, your stomach, your legs, your arms. Your armor stops some, but not nearly enough. The sheer force of so many impacts throws you backwards, and you strike the ground hard.

“Now, good men of Victrix and Rzoldur!” says Gotha. “Kill each other! Kill your women! Kill your children! Kill until you are all slain!”

Screams of fear and rage rise from Victrix as the villagers go berserk.

You see Gotha start to swell, her shape changing as she becomes something huge and crimson and monstrous, and then everything goes black.

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Soul of Swords, an excerpt

I’m now over 30,000 words into the rough draft of SOUL OF SWORDS, so it’s time for a brief excerpt:

Skalatan had never understood his people’s obsession with acquiring limbs. According to the doctrine of the San-keth priests, the gods of the Elderborn and the humans had stripped the serpent people of their limbs, condemning them to crawl in the dust for all time.

He stepped from the tent, and a hundred Aegonar warriors fell to their knees, gazing at him with reverence.

Why bother with limbs? It was so easy, so very easy, to turn the humans into willing, even eager, servants, something his brethren had never grasped.

-JM

choose your own adventure, episode 18a

You decide to distract Gwenaelle, hoping that Hamus can land a telling blow with his massive axe.

“Then stand fast and fight, vile creature of darkness!” you boom, your mind scrounging up old challenges from the ancient poetry of Old Earth your tutors read to you as a boy. “In the name of my father, the High King, and the Most High God I cast my despite your teeth. Draw weapons, you wicked spawn of hell, or slink back into the shadows and let all me know you as the craven that you are.”

Gwenaelle laughs merrily, as if you have just told a grand joke, and she would sound exactly likely an amused girl if not for the clicking of her pincers. “Oh, how funny! How Mother shall laugh when I tell her.” She steps closer to you with the sinuous grace of a hunting serpent, her talon-tipped fingers flexing. “Perhaps I shall turn your head into a puppet, and make it repeat that silly little speech over and…”

Hamus roars and brings his axe whistling down for the spiderling. Gwenaelle whirls with a hiss, her foot slamming into his gut, and Hamus goes down with a wheeze. You lunge, and Heartwarden draws a bloody line across Gwenaelle’s hip. She snarls in fury and backhands you, and the sheer power in her thin arm knocks you back a step. The spiderling stalks after you, raising her clawed hands for a killing blow.

Hamus roars again, his face the color of old wine, and sweeps his axe before him.

Gwenaelle’s head jumps off her shoulders in a spray of black ichor and hits the ground, the pincers sinking into the dirt. The body jerks forward a few more steps and collapses, the black slime pooling at your feet.

Hamus might be old and fat, but he’s clearly not weak.

You hear coughing, and see Ulacht and Sir Thomas get to their feet, recovering from Gwenaelle’s stunning blows.

Hamus looks at his son and sighs.

“What a blind fool I have been,” he says, gesturing with the axe. “I have been acting like a besotted boy, all while this…this creature preys upon my folk.”

“You may not have had any choice in the matter,” you say. “The venom of a spiderling can induce…odd effects, to be sure.”

“Forgive me, my son,” says Hamus. “For too long I neglected your counsel. And I beg your forgiveness as well, headman. The villages of Victrix and Rzoldur have dwelled in peace since the defeat of the Frostborn, and my folly almost destroyed that.”

Ulacht growls. “The spawn of the urdmordar almost destroyed us, knight. They were long our masters, long before the High King ever came from Old Earth. And now that we are free, they will try to slay us.”

“Ulacht is right, father,” says Thomas.

“Regardless,” says Hamus, “the fault is mine…”

“I suggest, sir knight,” you say, “that you shut up, and we proceed back into Victrix. The villagers need our help.”

Hamus blinked at you, and sighs. “You are a cheeky young fellow, but I deserve much worse. And without you, this would have been far bloodier. Lead on.”

You lead Hamus, Ulacht, and Thomas back to the square before the church and stop.

Silence has fallen over the square. Father Linus and Magistrius Richard stand before the doors along with a guard of militia archers. More archers wait on the church’s roof, their bows ready. All of them are staring at a slight, gaunt figure in a loose black dress in the center of the square.

Gotha, Gwenaelle’s mother.

Something like an aura of terror rolls off her, like smoke rising from a fire, and for a moment you feel like a mouse confronting an amused cat.

Gotha is staring at you with a gentle smile on her lined face.

You walk forward, Heartwarden glimmering with blue light in your right hand, and the others hang back, weapons in hand.

“You are an urdmordar,” you say, “aren’t you?”

“Ah,” says Gotha in her quavering voice. She totters forward a step, her cane tapping against the ground. “So clever for one so young. Of course, your race usually isn’t.” Her pale green eyes blink. “I remember the first time I saw a human. A thousand years ago, I think. At first I thought the dark elves had shaved an ape for some reason. Though for overgrown monkeys, I admit that you have overgrown brains. Just as well that you so rarely use them.”

“That did not,” you say, pointing Heartwarden at her, “answer my question.”

“No, I didn’t,” says Gotha. “Very good. How difficult it must be to think with all those…chemicals…soaking into your primitive little brain, every nerve and drop of blood screaming for you to run, run now, run while you still can.” She giggles. “How you monkeys fear being eaten.”

She’s right about that, but you refuse to let the fear show on your face. You are a Swordbearer of the Order of the Soulblade, and you shall die like one if your life ends today.

Which, if you are truly facing an urdmordar, seems increasingly likely.

“Leave Victrix, now,” you say, “and you may yet keep your life.”

“I will keep it regardless of your choices,” says Gotha, “and I shall still have it for long millennia after the last human has died sobbing on his knees.”

“Then you leave me with no choice but to kill you,” you say.

“Oh?” says Gotha, amused. “You will strike me down in the name of your High King? Or in the name of your god of sheep?” Her smile widens. “I have heard hundreds of your race beg for your God to save them. And I am still here and they are not. But, fear not. You are cleverer than most, and that sword you bear is actually dangerous. You have impressed me, boy…and earned the gift of a quick death.”

She raises her voice, and you hear the power of magic in her words.

“The Swordbearer!” she shouts, her voice echoing through the burning village. “The Swordbearer! He took the children. He is a dark elven wizard disguised as a Swordbearer! Stop him, stop him now, or he will murder your children as you weep!”

A ripple goes through the watching militiamen…and you see the hatred bloom on their faces.

You hear the creak as they take aim at you with their bows.

Then you hear a growl, and see Ulacht, Thomas, and Hamus stalk towards you, fury in their eyes.

“Farewell, Swordbearer,” croons Gotha. “This will be so much less painful if you lie down and die.”

You grip Heartwarden, your mind racing. Gotha has clearly used a spell.

But what kind of spell?

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Reader Question Day #60 – the end of DEMONSOULED and THE TOWER OF ENDLESS WORLDS

bitetheasp asks:

Is ‘Worlds to Conquer‘ related to the ‘Tower of Endless Worlds‘ series?

Yes. Well. Sort of.

To sum up a long story, I pretty much spent all of 2003 writing the entirety of what would become THE TOWER OF ENDLESS WORLDS series. I wrote it as one book, and by the time the final draft was done, it was about 300,000 words. No publisher on God’s green earth is going to publish a 300,000 word book, so I split it up into four, and started trying to sell the first volume, which I called WORLDS TO CONQUER. Eventually, I did sell the first volume, and it was published in August of 2008.

Unfortunately, it did not sell very well, and I made just enough money to buy a double Whopper with cheese, which was delicious, and that was that. I washed my hands of it and forgot about it.

But! Fast forward to 2011, and I discovered ebooks. I got the rights back to WORLDS TO CONQUER, renamed it THE TOWER OF ENDLESS WORLDS, and published the series as ebooks in June of 2012. I made the first book in the series, THE TOWER OF ENDLESS WORLDS, free, and then I set the three remaining books – A KNIGHT OF THE SACRED BLADE, A WIZARD OF THE WHITE COUNCIL, and THE DESTROYER OF WORLDS, for $2.99 each.

Since then the three paid books have sold together an average of about 180 copies a month, a fact for which I am very grateful. It’s quite a bit different than DEMONSOULED or THE GHOSTS, and I’ve never written anything else quite like it. So I’m grateful that people have been enjoyed them.

If you’re curious about the series, I frankly recommend that you get the free ebook version of THE TOWER OF ENDLESS WORLDS rather than the paper version of WORLDS TO CONQUER. It’s free, for one thing, and I’ve also revised and edited it quite a bit.

Scott asks, concerning the DEMONSOULED series:

This is a great series I hope to be reading them for a long time to come. Any idea how many more are to come???

SOUL OF SWORDS will be the last book in the DEMONSOULED series. I’ve been working on DEMONSOULED on and off since 2001, and I would like to try my hand at a new setting and new characters.

That said, I do plan to return to the world (and some of the characters) of DEMONSOULED in later books. Like the way Terry Brooks keeps returning to Shannara, or Terry Prachett to Discworld (though hopefully without Mr. Prachett’s well-publicized support for euthanasia). So someday we will have new books in the DEMONSOULED world.

-JM

choose your own adventure, episode 17a

You draw on Heartwarden’s power, and direct it towards the magic circle as fresh undead emerge from the caverns. There is a flash of blue light, a thrumming noise, and the pillar of green fire winks out.

The undead emerging from the caverns drop motionless to the ground, like puppets with cut strings.

Gwenaelle half-turns to look at the broken circle, clearly surprised.

“Take her!” you shout, surging forward with Heartwarden’s power lending you speed.

But the spiderling is even faster. She whirls, her clawed hand flickering in a spell, and disappears, much as the spiderling in the dark elven ruin did. Again you draw on the power of your bond with Heartwarden, and blue light flashes as you try to dispel Gwenaelle’s spell.

You are successful…and she reappears just as she smashes with terrific speed into Sir Thomas, knocking the knight sprawling to the ground. Ulacht bellow and lifts his club, but Gwenalle wheels and slams her right foot into his stomach. The breath explodes from his lungs, and the old orc stumbles to his knees, stunned.

Gwenaelle spins to face you, all eight of her green eyes locked on you, her pincers twitching.

Hamus stares open-mouthed at her, stunned by her speed. Gwenalle stalks towards you, head swaying back and forth like a serpent about to strike, her pincers opening and closing over and over again.

“A Swordbearer,” she hisses. “Mother used to collect the soulblades of your order as trophies.”

“Then take this one,” you say, “and add it to your collection. If you can.”

Gwenaelle laughed. “It is so amusing to see a herd animal with spirit. Perhaps you would feel the same way if you saw a pig that wore shoes and tried to talk as a man.”

Hamus growls and stalks towards her, two-handed axe raised for a blow, but Gwenalle pays him no mind. Perhaps she hasn’t seen him yet.

Or perhaps she simply doesn’t see him as a threat.

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(I have obligations on Monday, so the next episode of “choose your own adventure” will appear Wednesday, April 3rd. Sorry for the delay!)

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self-publishing stories

Writers who get into self-publishing generally have a variety of different stories about why they did it.

I rather like this one.  The fact that I have a spreadsheet tracking many, many agent rejections over the years, of course, has nothing to do with it.

-JM

choose your own adventure, episode 16a

You suspect there is spiderling poison in Sir Hamus’s veins, and you decide to try to use the power of your bond with Heartwarden to cure him.

Sir Hamus lumbers at you, bellowing, axe raised for a two-handed blow. He is strong, but he is old and fat and you are not. You dodge around the massive blow, summoning power, and slam your left palm against the knight’s temple. Blue light flares from your fingers and sinks into the old man.

Hamus flinches, his eyes bulging, his face going even redder. And as he does, you feel something…leave him, some taint, some corruption.

He did indeed have some toxin in his blood.

Hamus staggers back, and Gwenaelle peers at him, all eight of her eyes fixed on him.

“Husband!” she says. “Save me! Oh, save me!”

Hamus shakes his head. “I…wife? No, my wife is dead, my wife has been dead for years. I…had the most peculiar dream. I dreamed I remarried, that…that…”

“Husband!” says Gwenalle.

Hamus’s mouth falls open, and he turns and looks at Gwenaelle.

“God have mercy,” says Hamus. “It wasn’t a dream. And…God, what a fool I’ve been, I…”

Gwenaelle sighs. “Vexing. You would have been useful in culling the herd as Mother wished. But I suppose we’ll have to do all the work ourselves.”

“You took the children!” roars Hamus. “You deceived me!”

“Has that just now occurred to you?” said Gwenalle. “Mother was right about the lesser intelligence of the herd animals.”

“Where are the children?” says Hamus.

“In Mother’s larder, of course,” says Gwenaelle. “For our sustenance, once we have killed everyone who is aware of our presence here. Mother does prefer her privacy.”

“Return them, now,” says Hamus, “or I’ll…”

“Threats,” says Gwenaelle, “are of no consequence.”

She beckons, green fire flaring around her fingers, and the pillar of fire rising from the circle brightens. In the darkness of the cave mouth behind her, you see more undead coming forth.

Gwenaelle begins casting another spell, her pincers clicking, and you realize the other men are looking to you for leadership.

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choose your own adventure, episode 15a

“We must stop these undead from rising,” you say. “If they get out of control, they’ll kill everyone in Victrix and Rzoldur both. One of the spiderlings must be in the tombs, raising the undead.”

Or, perhaps, a full urdmordar itself. The thought gives you a chill. A single urdmordar is a mighty foe, and a match for even a team of Swordbearers and Magistri working together. Those few Swordbearers who have faced and defeated an urdmordar in single combat are legendary, their names among the great heroes of the songs.

Those Swordbearers who have faced an urdmordar in single combat and perished in short order are far more numerous.

But you put aside your fear. You are a Knight of the Soulblade, a Swordbearer, and it is your duty to defend these people, even if it means your death.

Sir Thomas nods. “We’ll follow you. Magistrius, Father Linus. Stay here and keep command of the militia. If the battle goes amiss, you’ll need to see our people to safety. Take them to Castra Marcaine, and let the Dux know what has happened here.”

Father Linus nods, hefting his club. “May God go with you, sir knights.”

You stride away from the church, Sir Thomas and Ulacht following you, and to your surprise Sir Hamus follows you, his massive axe in one hand.

“Father,” says Thomas, “remain in the church. You…”

“No!” roars the old man. “These are my people, and I will defend them.”

Thomas grits his teeth. “A fine job you’ve done so far, ignoring the missing children while cavorting with that…”

“Enough!” says Ulacht. “Our folk are in danger! You may berate each other after we win the battle.”

Both men manage a nod, and you stride for the base of the rocky hill, towards the pale pillar of green flame.

Soon you come to the base of the hill and the entrance to the tombs. A rocky gave mouth yawns in the side of the hill, and you see a few new undead shuffle from the entrance. A sorcerous circle has been drawn upon the ground outside the cave, and the pillar of green fire shoots from its center.

There is no sign of any sorcerer.

Ulacht growls and looks around. “Where…”

Then the air ripples, and Lady Gwenaelle appears before the pillar of fire, sorcerous power crackling around her fingers. Eight emerald eyes gleam in her face, a pair of serrated pincers distort her mouth, and crimson talons rise from the tips of her fingers.

Needless to say, you find her rather less attractive now, and you are suddenly very glad you did not kiss her earlier.

“Ah,” says Gwenaelle, her lovely voice a contrast with her half-human features, “Mother thought you might figure it out. No matter. If this herd must be culled, you can die with the rest of them.”

“Oh, wife,” says Hamus, staggering towards her, and you realize that he doesn’t see her for what she truly is. “I am glad you are safe! Come with me, quickly, to the church, where it’s safe.”

Gwenaelle’s pincer-lined mouth twitches into a hideous grin. “Husband! Behind you! Your son and that filthy orc have betrayed you! They brought the Swordbearer to murder me! Save me, husband!” Terror fills her voice. “Save me!”

Hamus turns with a roar. “You miserable traitors! I curse that I ever called you son!”

He charges at you, screaming, his axe raised for a massive two-handed blow.

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Reader Question Day #59 – Ghost in the Ashes, Soul of Swords, and medieval cremation

James asks:

I was simply wondering when Ghost in the Ashes is going to come out.

Before I start GHOST IN THE ASHES, I’m going to write the final DEMONSOULED book, SOUL OF SWORDS. Once that is done, I will start GHOST IN THE ASHES. So unless something goes amiss, I should have GHOST IN THE ASHES out by the end of the summer or the beginning of fall.

When can a person expect Soul of Swords?

June. If all goes well. Barring any unforeseen complications, of course. Life has this habit of throwing out unforeseen complications, but hopefully not too many.

Manwe asks, concerning the covers of the new THE THIRD SOUL books:

Do you have a favorite of the three? Me personally, why I like the girl, either the knight or the mysterious robed stanger would be my favorite.

My favorites are the covers for THE OUTLAW ADEPT and THE TOMB OF BALIGANT, as seen below:

Without giving away any spoilers, the cover for THE TOMB OF BALIGANT is particularly apropos. I’m not completely satisfied with the one for THE BLACK PALADIN, and might change it at some point.

Manwe also concerning our ongoing CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE:

Will you ever go into who the Urdmordar were (more) in this adventure series, or will we have to wait for the books?

Yes. The urdmordar have a big part to play in the rest of this Choose Your Own Adventure, as poor Ridmark will soon find out.

And I see that you put these in the Frostborn tab….is that the name of the new series then?

Also yes. After I write SOUL OF SWORDS and GHOST IN THE ASHES, I want to write the first FROSTBORN book.

Seraph316 asks, also concerning the Choose Your Own Adventure:

Would medieval Christians (Catholics in particular) actually burn there dead? To this day they are still strong on burial, back in that age even more so. Or am I wrong here?

The thing about cremation is a good point.

That said, this takes place about fifteen hundred years after Malahan Pendragon led his people through the magic portal from Britain. So customs would have changed in that time, especially since in Andomhaim it is possible for a necromancer to raise undead. After the first few zombie attacks, I suspect the taboo against cremation would have gone by the wayside very quickly.

And how many more of these episodes are you planning, and will yo do any other choose your own adventures in this world before you release the new series?

I think I will try to do at least one more Choose Your Own Adventure in this setting before I start writing books in it.

-JM