Anne Elisabeth Stengl's Blog, page 28
November 23, 2013
Want to Win an Influencer Copy of SHADOW HAND?
Are you eager to read Shadow Hand ?
Do you love the Tales of Goldstone Wood?
Do you know someone who hasn’t read the Tales of Goldstone Wood yet?
If you’ve said YES to all these questions, here’s what you do:
1. Loan a friend a copy of any Goldstone Wood Novel.
2. Write a blog post explaining why you gave that friend a copy of that particular novel.
3. Have your friend review the novel on her/his blog OR on your blog and on Amazon.
4. Share the review online using the #SharingGoldstoneWood hashtag!
5. In the comments below this post, share links for your blog post and your friend's review of the Goldstone Wood book she/he read.
Your name will then be entered in a raffle. I will pick five winners to receive an influencer copy of Shadow Hand, book 6 in the Tales of Goldstone Wood. Winners will be picked on February 8th. The winners will receive their books in late February/early March.
It's time to start getting excited! The adventure continues March 4, 2014.
November 21, 2013
"My Heart Opens at the Sound of Your Voice"
Those of you have read my author bio may have noticed a little passing mention that I enjoy "Shakespeare, opera, and tea." I believe I have talked about my love of Shakespeare before, and I know I've talked about tea. But while listening to some favorite songs of mine today, I thought perhaps the time had come to share my love of opera with all of you.
Note: When I say such things as "my love of opera," I do not meant to imply that I actually know anything particularly about opera. I've never studied it, certainly can't sing it (Ha!), and have only seen maybe half a dozen live operas in my life. But lack of official knowledge has not prevented me from developing a love for this most wonderful of all musical genres. So, let me take you for a little stroll down memory lane . . .
My first encounters with opera were probably not all that unlike your own. I was brought up on Looney Tunes cartoons, and there is nothing Bugs Bunny likes lambasting as much as a good opera. (I mean, does anybody ever listen to Ride of the Valkyries anymore without unconsciously muttering, "Kill da wabbit, kill da wabbit, kill da WABBIT"?) Much as I still appreciate the humor of those cartoons, I will admit that they helped instill the idea in my head that the grand opera was really quite a laughable affair and not meant to be taken seriously. All fat ladies bursting at the seems and sweaty gentlemen grumbling about death and whatnot. Not particularly interesting.
Oh, how wrong I was!
My first serious encounter with opera happened when I was eleven years old and I came upon a simple piano version of the Puccini aria, "Omia Babbino Caro." I learned to play it and thought it perhaps the most beautiful song I had ever heard!
Several years later, feeling a bit embarrassed because opera wasn't "cool," I asked for a Puccini CD for Christmas. Upon receiving it, I snuck down to my room (and my little black boom box) and popped it in, eager to see if the sung version of the song was a match for the piano tune I knew and loved.
And so I was introduced to Kiri Te Kanawa and her rendition of this song.
I was absolutely breathtaken! Who would have thought a human voice could sound like that? Who would have thought a song, so simple and short, could pack so much emotion?
Thus a certain curiosity was wetted. Maybe opera wasn't such a laughing matter after all? Maybe Bugs Bunny didn't have it all figured out . . .
Soon afterwards, I had the opportunity to attend a performance of The Barber of Seville. During that performance I learned another wonderful thing: Opera can be both breathtaking and hilarious! I mean, why did Bugs Bunny need to spoof anything? The original is much funnier.
Even the tragic operas aren't all about tragedy. I was introduced to an old movie that featured this particular song from Gounod's Romeo et Juliette, and I was swept away in the melody's effusive joy!
I mean, how can you not smile listening to this girl belting out her heart?
Oh, but the tragedy in opera is real. The thing is . . . it's not necessarily all worthy of mockery. The first time I heard Puccini's (yes, Puccini again . . . he really is my favorite by a long shot) "Un Bel Di" from Madame Butterfly, I wept. The heartbreaking longing this woman expresses in these soaring movements . . . you don't have to understand the words to feel her pain and her desperation as she insists to her handmaiden: "One fine day, we will see . . . He will return!"
I still cry every time I hear that song. If I could ever learn to write the kind of emotion Puccini puts into his music then I will consider myself a true novelist!
The next song is a special one to me for a slightly different reason. I was a bit obsessed with this number right around my freshman and sophomore year of college (No, I was not a cool kid at school. I was so weird in fact that I was interviewed as an "international student," and had a difficult time explaining to the interviewer that I was from Wisconsin. Sigh).
Anyway, the song. This amazing piece by Saint-Saens is the absolute epitome of all things romantic.
But I was particularly delighted listening to it one day during my sophomore year after a semester and half of French classes . . . and suddenly realizing that I knew what she was saying! Or not all of it. But when she sang "Mon couer s'ouvre a ta voix," I understood that she was telling her love, "My heart opens at the sound of your voice."
Suddenly French class meant a whole lot more than it had!
Okay, I'm sure I've inflicted enough opera on you for a lifetime. But there are so MANY wonderful pieces I would love to share. This doesn't even scratch the surface of the beauty, emotion, humor, and drama to be found in this wide and wonderful world. I'll end now, however, with a song that even non-opera lovers know and love.
If forced to pick a favorite operatic piece, "Nessun Dorma" by Puccini (yes! Puccini again) would probably be it. I had the privilege of seeing a performance of Turandot live the summer before going away to college. And while my companions tended to laugh at the gaudy costuming, the plump soprano, the staging, the effects, the dramatics . . . I sat there weeping at the brilliance of this music I had already learned to love, performed in context by amazingly talented men and women who had studied for years to achieve the vocal control necessary to communicate such tremendous feeling.
I ruined a good pair of white gloves that night wiping away mascara (because, yes, one must wear long white gloves to the opera).
So there you have it: a smattering of my musical love. Are any of you fans of the opera? Any pieces you'd like to share?
Note: When I say such things as "my love of opera," I do not meant to imply that I actually know anything particularly about opera. I've never studied it, certainly can't sing it (Ha!), and have only seen maybe half a dozen live operas in my life. But lack of official knowledge has not prevented me from developing a love for this most wonderful of all musical genres. So, let me take you for a little stroll down memory lane . . .
My first encounters with opera were probably not all that unlike your own. I was brought up on Looney Tunes cartoons, and there is nothing Bugs Bunny likes lambasting as much as a good opera. (I mean, does anybody ever listen to Ride of the Valkyries anymore without unconsciously muttering, "Kill da wabbit, kill da wabbit, kill da WABBIT"?) Much as I still appreciate the humor of those cartoons, I will admit that they helped instill the idea in my head that the grand opera was really quite a laughable affair and not meant to be taken seriously. All fat ladies bursting at the seems and sweaty gentlemen grumbling about death and whatnot. Not particularly interesting.
Oh, how wrong I was!
My first serious encounter with opera happened when I was eleven years old and I came upon a simple piano version of the Puccini aria, "Omia Babbino Caro." I learned to play it and thought it perhaps the most beautiful song I had ever heard!
Several years later, feeling a bit embarrassed because opera wasn't "cool," I asked for a Puccini CD for Christmas. Upon receiving it, I snuck down to my room (and my little black boom box) and popped it in, eager to see if the sung version of the song was a match for the piano tune I knew and loved.
And so I was introduced to Kiri Te Kanawa and her rendition of this song.
I was absolutely breathtaken! Who would have thought a human voice could sound like that? Who would have thought a song, so simple and short, could pack so much emotion?
Thus a certain curiosity was wetted. Maybe opera wasn't such a laughing matter after all? Maybe Bugs Bunny didn't have it all figured out . . .
Soon afterwards, I had the opportunity to attend a performance of The Barber of Seville. During that performance I learned another wonderful thing: Opera can be both breathtaking and hilarious! I mean, why did Bugs Bunny need to spoof anything? The original is much funnier.
Even the tragic operas aren't all about tragedy. I was introduced to an old movie that featured this particular song from Gounod's Romeo et Juliette, and I was swept away in the melody's effusive joy!
I mean, how can you not smile listening to this girl belting out her heart?
Oh, but the tragedy in opera is real. The thing is . . . it's not necessarily all worthy of mockery. The first time I heard Puccini's (yes, Puccini again . . . he really is my favorite by a long shot) "Un Bel Di" from Madame Butterfly, I wept. The heartbreaking longing this woman expresses in these soaring movements . . . you don't have to understand the words to feel her pain and her desperation as she insists to her handmaiden: "One fine day, we will see . . . He will return!"
I still cry every time I hear that song. If I could ever learn to write the kind of emotion Puccini puts into his music then I will consider myself a true novelist!
The next song is a special one to me for a slightly different reason. I was a bit obsessed with this number right around my freshman and sophomore year of college (No, I was not a cool kid at school. I was so weird in fact that I was interviewed as an "international student," and had a difficult time explaining to the interviewer that I was from Wisconsin. Sigh).
Anyway, the song. This amazing piece by Saint-Saens is the absolute epitome of all things romantic.
But I was particularly delighted listening to it one day during my sophomore year after a semester and half of French classes . . . and suddenly realizing that I knew what she was saying! Or not all of it. But when she sang "Mon couer s'ouvre a ta voix," I understood that she was telling her love, "My heart opens at the sound of your voice."
Suddenly French class meant a whole lot more than it had!
Okay, I'm sure I've inflicted enough opera on you for a lifetime. But there are so MANY wonderful pieces I would love to share. This doesn't even scratch the surface of the beauty, emotion, humor, and drama to be found in this wide and wonderful world. I'll end now, however, with a song that even non-opera lovers know and love.
If forced to pick a favorite operatic piece, "Nessun Dorma" by Puccini (yes! Puccini again) would probably be it. I had the privilege of seeing a performance of Turandot live the summer before going away to college. And while my companions tended to laugh at the gaudy costuming, the plump soprano, the staging, the effects, the dramatics . . . I sat there weeping at the brilliance of this music I had already learned to love, performed in context by amazingly talented men and women who had studied for years to achieve the vocal control necessary to communicate such tremendous feeling.
I ruined a good pair of white gloves that night wiping away mascara (because, yes, one must wear long white gloves to the opera).
So there you have it: a smattering of my musical love. Are any of you fans of the opera? Any pieces you'd like to share?
November 18, 2013
Interview Feature: Melanie Dickerson
Love fairy tales? Well, you've come to the right place. Our featured author today is known and loved for her award-winning, historical (no magic!) retellings of all our favorite fairy tales. And, as you imps will be particularly pleased to notice, her most recent retelling is none other than Cinderella. How perfect is that?
Please welcome Melanie Dickerson!
Melanie Dickerson is a two-time Christy Award finalist and Carol Award-winning author of The Healer’s Apprentice, The Merchant’s Daughter, and The Fairest Beauty. She is an active member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and Romance Writers of America (RWA). A former teacher and missionary, she earned a degree in special education from The University of Alabama and now lives near Huntsville, Alabama with her husband and two daughters.
You can find out more about Melanie and her books on her website: www.MelanieDickerson.com
Melanie is with us today to talk about her writing, particularly her new release, The Captive Maiden . And do be certain to check out the end of the interview, because she's offering a giveaway!
Interview Hi Melanie! Welcome to the Tales of Goldstone Wood blog. First off, why don't you tell us a littel about yourself! Personality, hobbies, etc. Melanie: I used to have hobbies, before I started writing! I do love watching movies with my two daughters. I love doing Beth Moore Bible studies with the ladies at my church. And I’m a facebook junkie, chatting and checking up on my friends when I should be working or cleaning my messy house! What led you into the writing life? Were you always a storyteller? Melanie: Iloved writing from the time I was probably around 11 years old. I think it started as a passion for reading stories and just gradually turned into a passion for writing them. I stopped writing after I graduated high school and took about a 15-year hiatus before I started back.
Tell us a little about your new novel, The Captive Maiden. How long did you work on this story? How did the idea come to you? Is it connected to the other fairy tale retellings you’ve written? Melanie: The Captive Maiden is the story of Valten, who is the brother of Gabe, the hero from The Fairest Beauty, and the son of Rose and Wilhelm from The Healer’s Apprentice. This story was written in less time than any of my other stories. The bulk of it was written in a month and a half. I knew I wanted to write Valten’s story, and I thought it would be a great Cinderella story, and I got the idea to make it about tournament rivals, because Valten loved competing in tournaments. And tournaments and knights just naturally make me think of one of my favorite novels, Ivanhoe, which inspired one of my favorite scenes in The Captive Maiden. Can you pick a favorite character from this story? Melanie: I loved my heroine, Gisela, because she was spunky and sweet, but I have to say that Valten was my favorite character. He was the hardest to write, because he is the tough, silent type, but he turned out sweeter and more attractive than I had thought. What inspires your work? Where do you turn when you need a renewal of inspiration? Of course, I am inspired by fairy tales, and I am inspired by classic literature, as I mentioned above. When I need renewal of inspiration, I sometimes watch movies, especially movies based on classic novels. I also listen to music, types of music and lyrics that make me think and feel more deeply. It’s good to take a break from the computer and writing when one needs a renewal, I think. What are your favorite and least favorite parts of the writing process? Melanie: I think I am rare in that I love all the parts of the writing process. I love the first draft stage, the editing and revising stage, and the research stage. I probably get tired of the research stage the most quickly, and the first draft stage is the most difficult, because it is always terrifying, especially when I’m writing the first few chapters! I’m afraid it’s terrible! Since you write fairy tale retellings, I’m sure this will be a tough question . . . but if you had to pick, what is your favorite fairy tale? Melanie: My favorite is actually Beauty and the Beast. There is so much meaning and so many possibilities for that story! There's something about it that has always fascinated me. So what is next on your writerly horizons? Can we look forward to more fairy tale retellings? Or perhaps something completely new? Melanie: I have a couple of completely new projects in the works, but everything is historical romance, just different time periods and settings. But I also have another fairy tale. I’m writing a Frog Prince story, and the heroine is Margaretha, Gabe and Valten’s sister. What are you actively writing right now? Melanie: I have two books that I am halfway through the rough draft. One is a Regency romance, and the other is my Frog Prince story. But I am currently planning on completely rewriting a couple of other books. So I feel like I have four projects going at once! My job at the moment is to decide which one I’m going to concentrate on, starting next week! But I can never bear to leave a project unfinished for long, so you can bet that I will be working very hard until all four of them are polished and ready for my readers! Can you share a short snippet from The Captive Maiden? Melanie: Sure! This scene is when Valten first sees Gisela in the streets of Hagenheim. He doesn’t remember that he met her when they were both children. But she remembers him. Excerpt FromThe Captive Maiden When Valten turned around, the girl was staring at him. No wonder Ruexner had noticed her. Her eyes were a clear blue, without a hint of gray or green. Her features were bold and generous—long, thick eyelashes, a straight, proud nose, a full brow, a gently squared chin, and high, prominent cheekbones. Her skin fairly glowed, and he had to remind himself to breathe. She seemed to be studying his face too. “Thank you.” She abruptly turned away and continued on her way as if nothing had happened. He stood stunned. Should he call after her? He only knew he couldn’t let her walk away, so he followed her. As she turned down the narrow street to the blacksmith’s, she looked over her shoulder. “Do you want something, my lord?” She added the last phrase with a bit of slyness in her voice, it seemed. She must realize who he was. Never good at making conversation with maidens, he ransacked his brain for something appropriate to say. Another way Gabe had been better than him—talking with women. His brother always knew what to say, and it was always something charming or clever. Valten’s experience was much different. He’d had little time for women due to his travels and training, and most of the ones he’d met he’d only spoken to briefly. Their fathers had paraded them before him at balls given for the tournament knights, but he’d never known them long enough to feel comfortable. He had not been ready to marry, and therefore he had no interest in showing them how lacking he was in the art of conversation. He hoped he didn’t sound like Ruexner as he said, “A fine destrier you have. He looks very much like my horse, Sieger.” She turned and gave him her full attention. He marveled at her self-reliant expression, a unique trait in a woman, especially one who was less than twenty years old and obviously poor. Or maybe she was only eccentric, wearing ragged clothes to disguise herself, as he was doing. “Thank you. He is a great horse.” Then she turned and continued walking. He still wasn’t ready to let her go. _____________ Thank you so much for sharing, Melanie. It was lovely to have you on the Tales of Goldstone Wood blog today. And now, dear imps, you have a chance to win yourselves a copy of The Captive Maiden! Be certain to enter your name below. http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/0cd52421/" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway
Please welcome Melanie Dickerson!
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Melanie Dickerson is a two-time Christy Award finalist and Carol Award-winning author of The Healer’s Apprentice, The Merchant’s Daughter, and The Fairest Beauty. She is an active member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and Romance Writers of America (RWA). A former teacher and missionary, she earned a degree in special education from The University of Alabama and now lives near Huntsville, Alabama with her husband and two daughters.You can find out more about Melanie and her books on her website: www.MelanieDickerson.com
Melanie is with us today to talk about her writing, particularly her new release, The Captive Maiden . And do be certain to check out the end of the interview, because she's offering a giveaway!
Interview Hi Melanie! Welcome to the Tales of Goldstone Wood blog. First off, why don't you tell us a littel about yourself! Personality, hobbies, etc. Melanie: I used to have hobbies, before I started writing! I do love watching movies with my two daughters. I love doing Beth Moore Bible studies with the ladies at my church. And I’m a facebook junkie, chatting and checking up on my friends when I should be working or cleaning my messy house! What led you into the writing life? Were you always a storyteller? Melanie: Iloved writing from the time I was probably around 11 years old. I think it started as a passion for reading stories and just gradually turned into a passion for writing them. I stopped writing after I graduated high school and took about a 15-year hiatus before I started back.
Tell us a little about your new novel, The Captive Maiden. How long did you work on this story? How did the idea come to you? Is it connected to the other fairy tale retellings you’ve written? Melanie: The Captive Maiden is the story of Valten, who is the brother of Gabe, the hero from The Fairest Beauty, and the son of Rose and Wilhelm from The Healer’s Apprentice. This story was written in less time than any of my other stories. The bulk of it was written in a month and a half. I knew I wanted to write Valten’s story, and I thought it would be a great Cinderella story, and I got the idea to make it about tournament rivals, because Valten loved competing in tournaments. And tournaments and knights just naturally make me think of one of my favorite novels, Ivanhoe, which inspired one of my favorite scenes in The Captive Maiden. Can you pick a favorite character from this story? Melanie: I loved my heroine, Gisela, because she was spunky and sweet, but I have to say that Valten was my favorite character. He was the hardest to write, because he is the tough, silent type, but he turned out sweeter and more attractive than I had thought. What inspires your work? Where do you turn when you need a renewal of inspiration? Of course, I am inspired by fairy tales, and I am inspired by classic literature, as I mentioned above. When I need renewal of inspiration, I sometimes watch movies, especially movies based on classic novels. I also listen to music, types of music and lyrics that make me think and feel more deeply. It’s good to take a break from the computer and writing when one needs a renewal, I think. What are your favorite and least favorite parts of the writing process? Melanie: I think I am rare in that I love all the parts of the writing process. I love the first draft stage, the editing and revising stage, and the research stage. I probably get tired of the research stage the most quickly, and the first draft stage is the most difficult, because it is always terrifying, especially when I’m writing the first few chapters! I’m afraid it’s terrible! Since you write fairy tale retellings, I’m sure this will be a tough question . . . but if you had to pick, what is your favorite fairy tale? Melanie: My favorite is actually Beauty and the Beast. There is so much meaning and so many possibilities for that story! There's something about it that has always fascinated me. So what is next on your writerly horizons? Can we look forward to more fairy tale retellings? Or perhaps something completely new? Melanie: I have a couple of completely new projects in the works, but everything is historical romance, just different time periods and settings. But I also have another fairy tale. I’m writing a Frog Prince story, and the heroine is Margaretha, Gabe and Valten’s sister. What are you actively writing right now? Melanie: I have two books that I am halfway through the rough draft. One is a Regency romance, and the other is my Frog Prince story. But I am currently planning on completely rewriting a couple of other books. So I feel like I have four projects going at once! My job at the moment is to decide which one I’m going to concentrate on, starting next week! But I can never bear to leave a project unfinished for long, so you can bet that I will be working very hard until all four of them are polished and ready for my readers! Can you share a short snippet from The Captive Maiden? Melanie: Sure! This scene is when Valten first sees Gisela in the streets of Hagenheim. He doesn’t remember that he met her when they were both children. But she remembers him. Excerpt FromThe Captive Maiden When Valten turned around, the girl was staring at him. No wonder Ruexner had noticed her. Her eyes were a clear blue, without a hint of gray or green. Her features were bold and generous—long, thick eyelashes, a straight, proud nose, a full brow, a gently squared chin, and high, prominent cheekbones. Her skin fairly glowed, and he had to remind himself to breathe. She seemed to be studying his face too. “Thank you.” She abruptly turned away and continued on her way as if nothing had happened. He stood stunned. Should he call after her? He only knew he couldn’t let her walk away, so he followed her. As she turned down the narrow street to the blacksmith’s, she looked over her shoulder. “Do you want something, my lord?” She added the last phrase with a bit of slyness in her voice, it seemed. She must realize who he was. Never good at making conversation with maidens, he ransacked his brain for something appropriate to say. Another way Gabe had been better than him—talking with women. His brother always knew what to say, and it was always something charming or clever. Valten’s experience was much different. He’d had little time for women due to his travels and training, and most of the ones he’d met he’d only spoken to briefly. Their fathers had paraded them before him at balls given for the tournament knights, but he’d never known them long enough to feel comfortable. He had not been ready to marry, and therefore he had no interest in showing them how lacking he was in the art of conversation. He hoped he didn’t sound like Ruexner as he said, “A fine destrier you have. He looks very much like my horse, Sieger.” She turned and gave him her full attention. He marveled at her self-reliant expression, a unique trait in a woman, especially one who was less than twenty years old and obviously poor. Or maybe she was only eccentric, wearing ragged clothes to disguise herself, as he was doing. “Thank you. He is a great horse.” Then she turned and continued walking. He still wasn’t ready to let her go. _____________ Thank you so much for sharing, Melanie. It was lovely to have you on the Tales of Goldstone Wood blog today. And now, dear imps, you have a chance to win yourselves a copy of The Captive Maiden! Be certain to enter your name below. http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/0cd52421/" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveawayNovember 13, 2013
Adventures at NC Comicon
"Hello, Princess!"
"Hello, Batman!"
This is the sort of conversation that goes on at a wonderful event known as Comicon. In fact, this is a conversation I had while passing by the world's tiniest (and possibly most adorable) batman ever, who grinned eagerly up at me and knew at once what I was.
It's nice to be recognized now and then.
I thought you might all enjoy some pictures of how Comicon went for me and Rohan! As some of you saw in my Doings at Rooglewood post, poor Rohan was very sick over the weekend. But, being the magnificent trooper he is, he still drove me out to Durham on Friday night, carried in all the heavy boxes of books, helped me set up and arrange the table, nearly passed out for lack of breath, grinned, and carried on. He was so exhausted after that, we had a bit of trouble getting out the door on Saturday morning and thus were a few minutes late for the start of Comicon.
When we arrived, we encountered . . . this:
Photo Courtesy of my friend, Stephanie Ricker That, my friends, is a hallway jam-packed with fans. Geeks, nerds, whatever you want to call them, they are devoted fans. So many costumes. So many genres and stories and universes I had never before heard of. SO MANY DOCTOR WHOS. (Seriously, I should have kept a tally . . . because there were more Doctor Whos of various incarnations than any other iconic figure there!)
The first day we dressed like Ordinary People. Which was dull.
You can almost smell the dullness.After a full day of watching costume after costume parade by our table, we decided that, sickness aside, we could not bear to sit in dullness a second day. So on day two we came as:
The Aviator and the Princess
Which really should be a picture book.
But isn't. Sorry.We got asked several times who our characters were. Sadly we weren't anyone in particular . . . these were just the best costumes we had on hand. So next year, should we go back, we've vowed to be more specific in our costuming. Maybe Lionheart and Rose Red . . .
Here's another photo stolen (borrowed!) from my friend, Stephanie. Here you can see the full table display:
I'm very pleased with how it turned out! Lots of books, lots of dimension. Definitely eye-catching enough to get a number of folks to stop, talk about the series, take a book, and sign up for the newsletter.
I even had the fun of one fan, a young teenage boy, who took a book on day 1, coming back the next day to tell me that he'd read Dragonwitch all in one night, loved it, and needed Starflower right away. That was sweet.
Oh, so you know my friend Stephanie I mentioned up above . . .
She, as Dr. River Song, didn't have much time to chat, since she had about 500 different Doctors to match diaries with . . . . Not to mention an honest-to-goodness Dalek rolling around in need of watching!
This was one of seriously dozens of Doctors I glimpsed that day. There were short doctors, tall doctors, old doctors, really young doctors. Doctors from every incarnation (maybe not every, but a lot of them, anyway!) of Doctor there has ever been! There were bunches of River Songs too, but Stephanie's was by far the best, I thought.
There was a Zoe and Kaylee, for you Firefly fans out there . . .
And quite a creditable Thor in the company of a . . . female Loki? Okay. Great costumes, though!
Though my favorite might have been this crocheted Cthulhu . . .
I mean, who thinks of these things???
I seriously could have spent all my time snapping photos of costumes, many of which I didn't even recognize! Perhaps I'm not as up-to-date on my nerd culture as I thought. Might have to work on that.
I hope you enjoyed this tiny taste of NC Comcon! We enjoyed it. Even Rohan, who was feeling much better by the second day and whose Aviator costume was greatly admired by all and sundry.
And maybe someday there'll be a book called The Aviator and the Princess, and everyone will recognize us immediately.
"Hello, Batman!"
This is the sort of conversation that goes on at a wonderful event known as Comicon. In fact, this is a conversation I had while passing by the world's tiniest (and possibly most adorable) batman ever, who grinned eagerly up at me and knew at once what I was.
It's nice to be recognized now and then.
I thought you might all enjoy some pictures of how Comicon went for me and Rohan! As some of you saw in my Doings at Rooglewood post, poor Rohan was very sick over the weekend. But, being the magnificent trooper he is, he still drove me out to Durham on Friday night, carried in all the heavy boxes of books, helped me set up and arrange the table, nearly passed out for lack of breath, grinned, and carried on. He was so exhausted after that, we had a bit of trouble getting out the door on Saturday morning and thus were a few minutes late for the start of Comicon.
When we arrived, we encountered . . . this:
Photo Courtesy of my friend, Stephanie Ricker That, my friends, is a hallway jam-packed with fans. Geeks, nerds, whatever you want to call them, they are devoted fans. So many costumes. So many genres and stories and universes I had never before heard of. SO MANY DOCTOR WHOS. (Seriously, I should have kept a tally . . . because there were more Doctor Whos of various incarnations than any other iconic figure there!)The first day we dressed like Ordinary People. Which was dull.
You can almost smell the dullness.After a full day of watching costume after costume parade by our table, we decided that, sickness aside, we could not bear to sit in dullness a second day. So on day two we came as:
The Aviator and the PrincessWhich really should be a picture book.
But isn't. Sorry.We got asked several times who our characters were. Sadly we weren't anyone in particular . . . these were just the best costumes we had on hand. So next year, should we go back, we've vowed to be more specific in our costuming. Maybe Lionheart and Rose Red . . .
Here's another photo stolen (borrowed!) from my friend, Stephanie. Here you can see the full table display:
I'm very pleased with how it turned out! Lots of books, lots of dimension. Definitely eye-catching enough to get a number of folks to stop, talk about the series, take a book, and sign up for the newsletter.
I even had the fun of one fan, a young teenage boy, who took a book on day 1, coming back the next day to tell me that he'd read Dragonwitch all in one night, loved it, and needed Starflower right away. That was sweet.
Oh, so you know my friend Stephanie I mentioned up above . . .
She, as Dr. River Song, didn't have much time to chat, since she had about 500 different Doctors to match diaries with . . . . Not to mention an honest-to-goodness Dalek rolling around in need of watching!
This was one of seriously dozens of Doctors I glimpsed that day. There were short doctors, tall doctors, old doctors, really young doctors. Doctors from every incarnation (maybe not every, but a lot of them, anyway!) of Doctor there has ever been! There were bunches of River Songs too, but Stephanie's was by far the best, I thought.
There was a Zoe and Kaylee, for you Firefly fans out there . . .
And quite a creditable Thor in the company of a . . . female Loki? Okay. Great costumes, though!
Though my favorite might have been this crocheted Cthulhu . . .
I mean, who thinks of these things???I seriously could have spent all my time snapping photos of costumes, many of which I didn't even recognize! Perhaps I'm not as up-to-date on my nerd culture as I thought. Might have to work on that.
I hope you enjoyed this tiny taste of NC Comcon! We enjoyed it. Even Rohan, who was feeling much better by the second day and whose Aviator costume was greatly admired by all and sundry.
And maybe someday there'll be a book called The Aviator and the Princess, and everyone will recognize us immediately.
November 12, 2013
Release Day: GODDESS TITHE!
Dear Imps, today is the official release day of Goddess Tithe! Huzzah!!!
Of course, it's been available in print for a little while already . . . but still. Today is the official date of release, so I'm going to celebrate.
For the next three days, Goddess Tithe is available for Kindle download at just .99 cents! It's available for purchase on NOOK as well, though for some reason NOOK isn't currently listing the .99 special, so you might want to give it a day or two. I believe NOOK users can download from Smashwords, which is currently running the .99 special, though.
Be sure to share this banner and tell your friends!
A quick reminder to all of those who signed up to review: Please do get your reviews up on Amazon as soon as possible! (And Goodreads and Barnes & Noble, but Amazon is most important.) Thanks again so much for taking part in the promotion of this book. I appreciate all of you reviewers more than you know.
And I hope all of you will enjoy this short adventure of one courageous boy and an unforgettable voyage . . .
Of course, it's been available in print for a little while already . . . but still. Today is the official date of release, so I'm going to celebrate.
For the next three days, Goddess Tithe is available for Kindle download at just .99 cents! It's available for purchase on NOOK as well, though for some reason NOOK isn't currently listing the .99 special, so you might want to give it a day or two. I believe NOOK users can download from Smashwords, which is currently running the .99 special, though.
Be sure to share this banner and tell your friends!
A quick reminder to all of those who signed up to review: Please do get your reviews up on Amazon as soon as possible! (And Goodreads and Barnes & Noble, but Amazon is most important.) Thanks again so much for taking part in the promotion of this book. I appreciate all of you reviewers more than you know.
And I hope all of you will enjoy this short adventure of one courageous boy and an unforgettable voyage . . .
November 8, 2013
Doings at Rooglewood: November Edition
Dear imps, I know I haven't been blogging as much lately, but I thought I'd update you on a few doings at Rooglewood once more so you'll have some idea why I keep disappearing for these random intervals.
First of all, this:
That's right! I'm spending a good bit of time getting these articles written up for the Veiled Rose read-along. I realized, on about chapter 4, that if I continued writing them at the rambling lengths I was, that I would end up with a total word-count about as large as the book itself. So, I've had to cut back a little bit. Nevertheless, I think the articles are interesting, the discussions questions challenging . . . and there will be a giveaway every week!
I think I might host a facebook chat party on the very last day of the read-along too (which is likely to be sometime in January, despite what it says on the poster). Would you all be interested in that?
I am of course getting VERY excited for the official release of Goddess Tithe this coming Tuesday!
Just so you know, the paper back version is already available on Amazon, so if you're interested in getting that, no reason to wait! If you're holding out for the e-book, however, that's still going to be happening on the 12th. I am so pleased to be sharing this first novella with all of you. And I hope, come January, to start writing the next one . . . . For even more immediate excitement, here's what I'm up to tomorrow:
Visit the Website!I have never been to a ComiCon before, either as a guest or a vendor. So this should be interesting! Rohan and I have been working hard to get everything ready for our table. We set up a practice table in our library last night, just to be certain everything looks cool. I'll try to get pictures of the event itself over this weekend! We're going to be there from dawn till dusk each day . . . so if you live in Raleigh/Durham area, you should stop by. Also, if you think of it . . . my poor Rohan is suffering from a terrible cold and cough right now. He is so congested, he sounds like a frog with a bronchitis (because that's a thing). Being my hardworking, wonderful man with an ENORMOUS sense of responsibility, he has insisted on going into work every day, then comes home and works with me to get things ready for this ComiCon and other business related details. (Trouble slowing down seems to run in the Rooglewoodian blood.) So please, say a prayer for him, especially for this crazy weekend! He could use it. Coming up later this month here on my blog are a handful of other exciting things. Aside from the interview with James L. Rubart currently running (enter your name in the giveaway!), I've got two interview/features with giveaways, one on the 18th, one on the 25th. I've also got the cover reveal for my mother's new book! Huzzah!
I finally got to read this novel in full last weekend, and let me tell you, it is a breathtaking ride! My mother is brilliant at taking historical events and making them vivid and real through the eyes of her characters. And the French Revolution is certainly not a time period for the faint of heart. I can hardly wait to share this cover with all of you . . . and then the book itself this next spring! Sometime this month, I'm hoping to get a chance to sit down and do a few tweaking revisions on Book 7, Golden Daughter (which I just finished drafting last month). Just one day of work should get me where I want to go with that project. But I am so utterly swamped in other projects at the moment, so I'm not certain when I'll get a chance at it. Aside from reading and line editing Until That Distant Day, I have one other large manuscript I'm reading, another not-quite-so-large manuscript that I expect to receive by the end of the month, and dozens upon dozens of Five Glass Slippers stories pouring in!
At this stage in the game, I've got enough stories in that I'm starting to get an inkling of an idea what the final collection might look like. All of the stories have been wonderfully entertaining, but there are those special few that stand out in the crowd. Those special few that shine just a little extra bright . . . But our Dec. 31st deadline is still a long ways off, and more stories arrive on my desk every week. So the final shape of the selection is still anyone's guess! One thing I do know for certain: it's going to be a beautiful book.
A quick note to all of you readers who may not have noticed it earlier--up in the left-hand corner of this blog page, you'll see a tab that says, "Sign Up for the Goldstone Wood Newsletter." If you haven't done so already, I would urge you to hop on board! I'll be sending out the first newsletter later this month, and will continue to use this as a means to keep my readers informed of book releases, special deals, and giveways. It is called The Haven Chronicler, and you don't want to miss out! Another exciting event coming up this month is this Spec Fiction Scavenger Hunt!
Sound exciting? More details to come as the event draws nearer . . . but if you don't want to wait for me to get around to explaining the details, writer-friend Jenelle did a lovely job of it on her blog, so I would click this link and go over there to find out more! In not-writing-related news . . . most of you have probably seen my pictures and updates facebook about this little girl:
This is Mimsy, the sweet little doggy who wandered into my yard one cold, rainy day in October. She was skin and bones, obviously nursing, shivering, cowering, and so, so sad. But she let me pick her right up and bring her inside, sweet darling that she is. We've had her at Rooglewood for nearly a month now, and she has come so far! Her natural state of being is happy and tail-wagging, and she loves to cuddle. If not me, Makoose will do:
Mimsy and Makoose can be found together most evenings in a similar attitude. He loves to wrap her up in his paws and give her a thorough washing. Which she enjoys. Though she ends up with some pretty interesting cowlicks as a result. She is up for adoption currently, so if you're a Raleigh/Durham resident and are looking for the perfect little companion doggy, write to me! She's seriously as sweet as she can be, not a mean bone in her skinny little body. She's great with the cats (obviously!) and with Milly, our big dog. And boy, I would sure keep her if I could . . . but Rooglewood is pretty swamped in pets at the moment, and we always seem to have new rescues wandering into our yard! Anyway, other than that, I've been keeping myself occupied with a full house of mentoring students (hello, fabulous students!), who all entertain me with wonderful stories, unique writing voices, and surprising twists and turns in their plots. Someday I will be getting back to regular noveling myself, but probably not until after Christmas. There's just no time at the moment. But, the next story is brewing up to the point of bursting, and I think come the new year, I'll be able to sit down and start pounding it out. I hope all of you are well and busy with good kinds of busyness. Leave a note and tell me about some of the things you're up to this month!
First of all, this:
That's right! I'm spending a good bit of time getting these articles written up for the Veiled Rose read-along. I realized, on about chapter 4, that if I continued writing them at the rambling lengths I was, that I would end up with a total word-count about as large as the book itself. So, I've had to cut back a little bit. Nevertheless, I think the articles are interesting, the discussions questions challenging . . . and there will be a giveaway every week!
I think I might host a facebook chat party on the very last day of the read-along too (which is likely to be sometime in January, despite what it says on the poster). Would you all be interested in that?
I am of course getting VERY excited for the official release of Goddess Tithe this coming Tuesday!
Just so you know, the paper back version is already available on Amazon, so if you're interested in getting that, no reason to wait! If you're holding out for the e-book, however, that's still going to be happening on the 12th. I am so pleased to be sharing this first novella with all of you. And I hope, come January, to start writing the next one . . . . For even more immediate excitement, here's what I'm up to tomorrow:
Visit the Website!I have never been to a ComiCon before, either as a guest or a vendor. So this should be interesting! Rohan and I have been working hard to get everything ready for our table. We set up a practice table in our library last night, just to be certain everything looks cool. I'll try to get pictures of the event itself over this weekend! We're going to be there from dawn till dusk each day . . . so if you live in Raleigh/Durham area, you should stop by. Also, if you think of it . . . my poor Rohan is suffering from a terrible cold and cough right now. He is so congested, he sounds like a frog with a bronchitis (because that's a thing). Being my hardworking, wonderful man with an ENORMOUS sense of responsibility, he has insisted on going into work every day, then comes home and works with me to get things ready for this ComiCon and other business related details. (Trouble slowing down seems to run in the Rooglewoodian blood.) So please, say a prayer for him, especially for this crazy weekend! He could use it. Coming up later this month here on my blog are a handful of other exciting things. Aside from the interview with James L. Rubart currently running (enter your name in the giveaway!), I've got two interview/features with giveaways, one on the 18th, one on the 25th. I've also got the cover reveal for my mother's new book! Huzzah!
I finally got to read this novel in full last weekend, and let me tell you, it is a breathtaking ride! My mother is brilliant at taking historical events and making them vivid and real through the eyes of her characters. And the French Revolution is certainly not a time period for the faint of heart. I can hardly wait to share this cover with all of you . . . and then the book itself this next spring! Sometime this month, I'm hoping to get a chance to sit down and do a few tweaking revisions on Book 7, Golden Daughter (which I just finished drafting last month). Just one day of work should get me where I want to go with that project. But I am so utterly swamped in other projects at the moment, so I'm not certain when I'll get a chance at it. Aside from reading and line editing Until That Distant Day, I have one other large manuscript I'm reading, another not-quite-so-large manuscript that I expect to receive by the end of the month, and dozens upon dozens of Five Glass Slippers stories pouring in!
At this stage in the game, I've got enough stories in that I'm starting to get an inkling of an idea what the final collection might look like. All of the stories have been wonderfully entertaining, but there are those special few that stand out in the crowd. Those special few that shine just a little extra bright . . . But our Dec. 31st deadline is still a long ways off, and more stories arrive on my desk every week. So the final shape of the selection is still anyone's guess! One thing I do know for certain: it's going to be a beautiful book.
A quick note to all of you readers who may not have noticed it earlier--up in the left-hand corner of this blog page, you'll see a tab that says, "Sign Up for the Goldstone Wood Newsletter." If you haven't done so already, I would urge you to hop on board! I'll be sending out the first newsletter later this month, and will continue to use this as a means to keep my readers informed of book releases, special deals, and giveways. It is called The Haven Chronicler, and you don't want to miss out! Another exciting event coming up this month is this Spec Fiction Scavenger Hunt!
Sound exciting? More details to come as the event draws nearer . . . but if you don't want to wait for me to get around to explaining the details, writer-friend Jenelle did a lovely job of it on her blog, so I would click this link and go over there to find out more! In not-writing-related news . . . most of you have probably seen my pictures and updates facebook about this little girl:
This is Mimsy, the sweet little doggy who wandered into my yard one cold, rainy day in October. She was skin and bones, obviously nursing, shivering, cowering, and so, so sad. But she let me pick her right up and bring her inside, sweet darling that she is. We've had her at Rooglewood for nearly a month now, and she has come so far! Her natural state of being is happy and tail-wagging, and she loves to cuddle. If not me, Makoose will do:
Mimsy and Makoose can be found together most evenings in a similar attitude. He loves to wrap her up in his paws and give her a thorough washing. Which she enjoys. Though she ends up with some pretty interesting cowlicks as a result. She is up for adoption currently, so if you're a Raleigh/Durham resident and are looking for the perfect little companion doggy, write to me! She's seriously as sweet as she can be, not a mean bone in her skinny little body. She's great with the cats (obviously!) and with Milly, our big dog. And boy, I would sure keep her if I could . . . but Rooglewood is pretty swamped in pets at the moment, and we always seem to have new rescues wandering into our yard! Anyway, other than that, I've been keeping myself occupied with a full house of mentoring students (hello, fabulous students!), who all entertain me with wonderful stories, unique writing voices, and surprising twists and turns in their plots. Someday I will be getting back to regular noveling myself, but probably not until after Christmas. There's just no time at the moment. But, the next story is brewing up to the point of bursting, and I think come the new year, I'll be able to sit down and start pounding it out. I hope all of you are well and busy with good kinds of busyness. Leave a note and tell me about some of the things you're up to this month!
November 4, 2013
Interview Feature: James L. Rubart
Dear imps, I am very pleased to be able to introduce to you today a man who has made quite a mark on the speculative fiction scene in recent history! His best-selling, award-winning novels have been compared to such authors Frank Peretti, but this gentleman has carved out his own unique niche as well. Suspenseful, innovative, thrilling, and full of faith, his stories have been welcomed by eager fans since the release of his debut novel,
Rooms
. I give you . . . James L. Rubart!
James L. Rubart is the best-selling and Christy Award winning author of Rooms, Book of Days, The Chair, Soul's Gate, and Memory's Door. During the day he runs Barefoot Marketing which helps businesses and authors make more coin of the realm. In his free time he dirt bikes, hikes, golfs, takes photos, and occasionally does sleight of hand. No, he doesn't sleep much. He lives with his amazing wife and teenage sons in the Pacific Northwest and still things he's young enough to water ski like a madman. More at www.jameslrubart.com.
And here is a little more info on his newest novel, Memory's Door, which is the sequel to Christy Award-winning Soul's Gate :
The prophecy brought them together. But the Wolf has risen, and now their greatest battle begins.
The four members of Warriors Riding have learned to wage war in the supernatural, to send their spirits inside people’s souls, to battle demonic forces, and to bring deep healing to those around them.
But their leader Reece is struggling with the loss of his sight. Brandon is being stalked at his concerts by a man in the shadows. Dana’s career is threatening to bury her. And Marcus questions his sanity as he seems to be slipping in and out of alternate realities.
And now the second part of the prophecy has come true. The Wolf is hunting them and has set his trap. He circles, feeding on his supernatural hate of all they stand for. And he won’t stop until he brings utter destruction to their bodies . . .and their souls.
James is with us for an interview today . . . and for an exciting double-prize giveaway, so be certain to check that out at the end of the post!
Interview
Welcome, James! Glad you could be with us today. Would you mind telling us a little about yourself? Hobbies, personality . . . tea or coffee?
James: Coffee—although my friends say I don’t drink java, I drink cream with a little bit of coffee sprinkled in. Hobbies? Water skiing, backpacking, playing guitar, doing sleight of hand, photography, dirt biking … yeah, I have a lot of interests. I’ve lived all my life in the Pacific Northwest, have been married to my amazing wife for 27 years, and have two sons, Taylor (20) and Micah (18).
What led you into the writing life? Were you always a storyteller?
James: Yes, always a storyteller, and I’ve always felt led to the writing life, but for a long time I was too scared to leap off the cliff and try it. Because what do you do if your biggest dream crashes and burns? What is your purpose then? But in the spring of 2002, my wife went on a fast without knowing why or for how long. After three days, a light bulb exploded over my head and I felt like God said, “I’ve given you this gift, I’ve given you this desire, when are you going to step into your destiny?” I turned to Darci as we were driving home and said, “I know why you’re fasting. I’m supposed to be a novelist.” She said, “Wait a minute, I’m hungry for three days, and youget the answer?
We both laughed, but that was the start of me going after the dream of becoming a published author. I finished by first novel (ROOMS) three years later, and it was published in 2010.
Tell us a little about your new novel,
Memory’s Door. How long did you work on this story? How did the idea come to you?
James: Memory’s Door is the second novel in my Well Spring series, and the heart of this story is regret. What do we do with our regrets? How do we get free of them? At the time I wrote the story I was going through a period of having to face my own deepest regrets, so those trials were interwoven into the story to a great degree.
Can you pick a favorite character from this new novel?
James: Although I have four main characters, more of the focus in Memory’s Door is on University of Washington physics professor, Marcus Amber. He is dealing with the deepest regret of his life—one that threatens to split up his marriage, and destroy the Warriors Riding as well. I think readers will care about him because all of us wrestle with regrets that keep us from living fully in the present. So I believe readers will long for Marcus to get free of the past and at the same time find freedom from their own regrets.
What inspires your work? Where do you turn when you need a renewal of inspiration?
James: Everywhere, but specifically, the outdoors (beauty), reading, music, deep conversations with my wife and friends, and spending time with the Trinity.
What are your favorite and least favorite parts of the writing process?
James:
Getting that first draft done is exhausting. I’m a classic seat-of-the-pants writer, so it’s an exhilarating adventure to see where the story is going, but extremely tiring at the same time. but once I’m finished, I love going back and adding and fixing what was wrong the first time through.
If you were forced to pick a single favorite author, who would it be?
James: Have to go with C.S. Lewis. When I read The Chronicles of Narnia as a ten year old kid, I knew I wanted to try to do for others what Lewis had done for me—which was to whisk me off to new worlds and make me think in ways I never had before. Lewis did fiction, non-fiction, adult, children’s … and did them all brilliantly.
So what is next on your publishing horizons? Can we look forward to more books in the Well Springs series?
James: Yes! One more, called, The Spirit Bridge. It’s the first novel I’ve written where I’ve liked it right after it’s finished. (Usually it takes me about three months before I can look back on my stories and say, “That’s not too bad.”) It releases in May of 2014 and I think it’s pretty epic.
What are you actively writing right now?
James: Working on my next novel (the one coming out after The Spirit Bridge) as well as a screenplay.
Can you share a short snippet from Memory’s Door?
James: But of course!
Snippet fromMemory's Door Brandon Scott finished the second to last song of his first set on Friday evening and scanned the back of the arena looking for the stalker. If the man had come again and kept his pattern the same, he’d stand and walk out within a few seconds. He’d done it every time for the past five concerts when the band finished Running Free. No one but his manager, Kevin and Brandon’s bass player, Anthony, knew about the guy—Brandon hadn’t even hinted about it to any of the Warriors except to Marcus earlier in the day. For one thing, he’d been on the road for three weeks and wanted to talk to all of them about it at the same time, and in person. For another, he wanted to figure out if it was just your friendly neighborhood whacko or something darker, like Zennon. They’d seen little of the demon during the past ten months. Yes, there had been minor skirmishes, but most of their days had been filled with going deeper into the Spirit and helping set others free. But now? Maybe this was part of Zennon’s resurgence. Maybe the stalker was Zennon. Brandon had asked the Spirit repeatedly about the tall, thick, man who stuck to the shadows of the halls they’d played in over the past two weeks, but he’d gotten no answer, no clue as to what action to take. Brandon pushed back his longish, dirty blond hair and squinted against the glare of the spotlights bathing his band and him in dark reds and blues. Where was the guy? Was it over? Maybe he’d stopped coming. Brandon scoffed. Yeah, right. “Wake up, Song Boy. One more tune.” His bass player bumped his shoulder into Brandon’s. “You with us?” “In a second.” Brandon scanned back over the crowd. Each time the guy sat on the left side of whatever hall Brandon was playing, two-thirds of the way back. “Are you looking for the guy again?” “Lucky guess.” Anthony thumped out a bass line, probably to keep the crowd from wondering why the concert had screeched to a halt. “If he was stalking you, he’d have approached you by now, sent a note, sent flowers, done something. Let it go. Maybe he’s just a mega-fan.” “Yeah, a mega-fan who just happens to have an ax in the trunk of his car.” “Men don’t stalk men.” “They don’t?” “Well.” His bass player grinned. “Not typically.” “I’ll be sure to mention that to the guy when he shows up knocking on my bedroom door at two in the morning with an Uzi in his pocket. I’ll call you, hand the guy my cell, and you can tell him he shouldn’t be there.” Brandon made another scan of the room. Nothing. Wait. There. Sitting five or six rows back from the spot he usually sat in. Was the guy blond? Wearing a T-shirt? Hard to tell with the lights in Brandon’s eyes and the audience buried in shadows. Two concerts back Brandon asked security to talk to the guy, find out who he was, but they hadn’t been able to corner the man. Which didn’t make sense. He would be hard to miss. The guy had to be almost as tall as Reece. If he was a stalker, why didn’t he ever try to get to Brandon? And why spend the money just to see the same concert over and over again? Tickets to his shows these days weren’t cheap. Between plane fare and buying a ticket for each show and food while traveling, the guy had to be dropping upwards of five hundred dollars per city. He’d had strange fans before. Those wanting him to sign non-PG areas of their bodies, those who God supposedly told they were to become a member of his band; there were even a few who thought they were told to come to his house, set up tents, and pray for him every morning at five thirty because, “Jesus rose early to pray, so we’re following the path he has showed us.” But something about this guy was different. He wasn’t your ordinary whack job. Which meant the enemy was most likely involved. Anthony bumped his shoulder again. “Did you see him?” “Yeah.” “That’s cool. Now can we start playing again?” “Sure.” Brandon blew out a quick breath and called out the next song to the beat of his foot thumping on the stage. “One, two, three, go!” An hour later the concert was over, and Brandon stood in front of the stage praying with people, hearing their stories, signing autographs, and scanning the back of the room. There was no use—the stalker had never shown up after a show—but he couldn’t help himself. As the last concert goer turned and waved one more time at Brandon, Kevin clicked up to him on his right. “Done?” Brandon glanced at the crew milling around the stage, breaking down their gear. “The stalker was here again.” “Yeah, Anthony told me.” Kevin nodded. “And we were ready. The guys watched hard.” “And?” Kevin stepped closer and lowered his voice. “They saw him tonight.” “What?” “Apparently he left from a door fifty feet from where two of them stood. They went after the guy.” “Talk to me.” His heart pounding, Brandon stared at Kevin. “Who is he? What does he want? What’d the guy have to say?” “They didn’t get to talk to him.” “Hold it. They see the guy leave the concert, they’re only fifty feet away, and they couldn’t find him?” Kevin shook his head. “I don’t know what happened. They say they ran after him. Turned the same corner the guy did three seconds earlier, but when they got there the hall was empty. There were only two doors and both were locked. They would have heard a door open and shut anyway.” Heat washed over Brandon. Zennon. Had to be. Or someone who had figured out how to teleport like he and the other Warriors had. The former was more likely. Fine. Zennon wanted to stalk him? Brandon would hunt the demon in return. “Next concert I want security racked and stacked every ten yards. We’re going to corner this guy and find out who he is. And if he’s not human, I know who and what he is, and we’ll get ready for that possibility as well.” “Something right here”—Kevin pointed to his stomach—“tells me there won't need to be a next time.”_______ Thank you, James, for sharing with us today! And now, dear imps, James is generously offering a two-part giveaway. The winner will receive a copy of Soul's Gate and Memory's Door, the first two books in the Well Spring series! Be certain to enter your name in the giveaway below, and to thank James for his time today! http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/0cd52419/" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway
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James L. Rubart is the best-selling and Christy Award winning author of Rooms, Book of Days, The Chair, Soul's Gate, and Memory's Door. During the day he runs Barefoot Marketing which helps businesses and authors make more coin of the realm. In his free time he dirt bikes, hikes, golfs, takes photos, and occasionally does sleight of hand. No, he doesn't sleep much. He lives with his amazing wife and teenage sons in the Pacific Northwest and still things he's young enough to water ski like a madman. More at www.jameslrubart.com.
And here is a little more info on his newest novel, Memory's Door, which is the sequel to Christy Award-winning Soul's Gate :
The prophecy brought them together. But the Wolf has risen, and now their greatest battle begins.The four members of Warriors Riding have learned to wage war in the supernatural, to send their spirits inside people’s souls, to battle demonic forces, and to bring deep healing to those around them.
But their leader Reece is struggling with the loss of his sight. Brandon is being stalked at his concerts by a man in the shadows. Dana’s career is threatening to bury her. And Marcus questions his sanity as he seems to be slipping in and out of alternate realities.
And now the second part of the prophecy has come true. The Wolf is hunting them and has set his trap. He circles, feeding on his supernatural hate of all they stand for. And he won’t stop until he brings utter destruction to their bodies . . .and their souls.
James is with us for an interview today . . . and for an exciting double-prize giveaway, so be certain to check that out at the end of the post!
Interview
Welcome, James! Glad you could be with us today. Would you mind telling us a little about yourself? Hobbies, personality . . . tea or coffee?
James: Coffee—although my friends say I don’t drink java, I drink cream with a little bit of coffee sprinkled in. Hobbies? Water skiing, backpacking, playing guitar, doing sleight of hand, photography, dirt biking … yeah, I have a lot of interests. I’ve lived all my life in the Pacific Northwest, have been married to my amazing wife for 27 years, and have two sons, Taylor (20) and Micah (18).
What led you into the writing life? Were you always a storyteller?
James: Yes, always a storyteller, and I’ve always felt led to the writing life, but for a long time I was too scared to leap off the cliff and try it. Because what do you do if your biggest dream crashes and burns? What is your purpose then? But in the spring of 2002, my wife went on a fast without knowing why or for how long. After three days, a light bulb exploded over my head and I felt like God said, “I’ve given you this gift, I’ve given you this desire, when are you going to step into your destiny?” I turned to Darci as we were driving home and said, “I know why you’re fasting. I’m supposed to be a novelist.” She said, “Wait a minute, I’m hungry for three days, and youget the answer?
We both laughed, but that was the start of me going after the dream of becoming a published author. I finished by first novel (ROOMS) three years later, and it was published in 2010.
Tell us a little about your new novel,
Memory’s Door. How long did you work on this story? How did the idea come to you?
James: Memory’s Door is the second novel in my Well Spring series, and the heart of this story is regret. What do we do with our regrets? How do we get free of them? At the time I wrote the story I was going through a period of having to face my own deepest regrets, so those trials were interwoven into the story to a great degree.
Can you pick a favorite character from this new novel?
James: Although I have four main characters, more of the focus in Memory’s Door is on University of Washington physics professor, Marcus Amber. He is dealing with the deepest regret of his life—one that threatens to split up his marriage, and destroy the Warriors Riding as well. I think readers will care about him because all of us wrestle with regrets that keep us from living fully in the present. So I believe readers will long for Marcus to get free of the past and at the same time find freedom from their own regrets.
What inspires your work? Where do you turn when you need a renewal of inspiration?
James: Everywhere, but specifically, the outdoors (beauty), reading, music, deep conversations with my wife and friends, and spending time with the Trinity.
What are your favorite and least favorite parts of the writing process?
James:
Getting that first draft done is exhausting. I’m a classic seat-of-the-pants writer, so it’s an exhilarating adventure to see where the story is going, but extremely tiring at the same time. but once I’m finished, I love going back and adding and fixing what was wrong the first time through.
If you were forced to pick a single favorite author, who would it be?
James: Have to go with C.S. Lewis. When I read The Chronicles of Narnia as a ten year old kid, I knew I wanted to try to do for others what Lewis had done for me—which was to whisk me off to new worlds and make me think in ways I never had before. Lewis did fiction, non-fiction, adult, children’s … and did them all brilliantly.
So what is next on your publishing horizons? Can we look forward to more books in the Well Springs series?
James: Yes! One more, called, The Spirit Bridge. It’s the first novel I’ve written where I’ve liked it right after it’s finished. (Usually it takes me about three months before I can look back on my stories and say, “That’s not too bad.”) It releases in May of 2014 and I think it’s pretty epic.
What are you actively writing right now?
James: Working on my next novel (the one coming out after The Spirit Bridge) as well as a screenplay.
Can you share a short snippet from Memory’s Door?
James: But of course!
Snippet fromMemory's Door Brandon Scott finished the second to last song of his first set on Friday evening and scanned the back of the arena looking for the stalker. If the man had come again and kept his pattern the same, he’d stand and walk out within a few seconds. He’d done it every time for the past five concerts when the band finished Running Free. No one but his manager, Kevin and Brandon’s bass player, Anthony, knew about the guy—Brandon hadn’t even hinted about it to any of the Warriors except to Marcus earlier in the day. For one thing, he’d been on the road for three weeks and wanted to talk to all of them about it at the same time, and in person. For another, he wanted to figure out if it was just your friendly neighborhood whacko or something darker, like Zennon. They’d seen little of the demon during the past ten months. Yes, there had been minor skirmishes, but most of their days had been filled with going deeper into the Spirit and helping set others free. But now? Maybe this was part of Zennon’s resurgence. Maybe the stalker was Zennon. Brandon had asked the Spirit repeatedly about the tall, thick, man who stuck to the shadows of the halls they’d played in over the past two weeks, but he’d gotten no answer, no clue as to what action to take. Brandon pushed back his longish, dirty blond hair and squinted against the glare of the spotlights bathing his band and him in dark reds and blues. Where was the guy? Was it over? Maybe he’d stopped coming. Brandon scoffed. Yeah, right. “Wake up, Song Boy. One more tune.” His bass player bumped his shoulder into Brandon’s. “You with us?” “In a second.” Brandon scanned back over the crowd. Each time the guy sat on the left side of whatever hall Brandon was playing, two-thirds of the way back. “Are you looking for the guy again?” “Lucky guess.” Anthony thumped out a bass line, probably to keep the crowd from wondering why the concert had screeched to a halt. “If he was stalking you, he’d have approached you by now, sent a note, sent flowers, done something. Let it go. Maybe he’s just a mega-fan.” “Yeah, a mega-fan who just happens to have an ax in the trunk of his car.” “Men don’t stalk men.” “They don’t?” “Well.” His bass player grinned. “Not typically.” “I’ll be sure to mention that to the guy when he shows up knocking on my bedroom door at two in the morning with an Uzi in his pocket. I’ll call you, hand the guy my cell, and you can tell him he shouldn’t be there.” Brandon made another scan of the room. Nothing. Wait. There. Sitting five or six rows back from the spot he usually sat in. Was the guy blond? Wearing a T-shirt? Hard to tell with the lights in Brandon’s eyes and the audience buried in shadows. Two concerts back Brandon asked security to talk to the guy, find out who he was, but they hadn’t been able to corner the man. Which didn’t make sense. He would be hard to miss. The guy had to be almost as tall as Reece. If he was a stalker, why didn’t he ever try to get to Brandon? And why spend the money just to see the same concert over and over again? Tickets to his shows these days weren’t cheap. Between plane fare and buying a ticket for each show and food while traveling, the guy had to be dropping upwards of five hundred dollars per city. He’d had strange fans before. Those wanting him to sign non-PG areas of their bodies, those who God supposedly told they were to become a member of his band; there were even a few who thought they were told to come to his house, set up tents, and pray for him every morning at five thirty because, “Jesus rose early to pray, so we’re following the path he has showed us.” But something about this guy was different. He wasn’t your ordinary whack job. Which meant the enemy was most likely involved. Anthony bumped his shoulder again. “Did you see him?” “Yeah.” “That’s cool. Now can we start playing again?” “Sure.” Brandon blew out a quick breath and called out the next song to the beat of his foot thumping on the stage. “One, two, three, go!” An hour later the concert was over, and Brandon stood in front of the stage praying with people, hearing their stories, signing autographs, and scanning the back of the room. There was no use—the stalker had never shown up after a show—but he couldn’t help himself. As the last concert goer turned and waved one more time at Brandon, Kevin clicked up to him on his right. “Done?” Brandon glanced at the crew milling around the stage, breaking down their gear. “The stalker was here again.” “Yeah, Anthony told me.” Kevin nodded. “And we were ready. The guys watched hard.” “And?” Kevin stepped closer and lowered his voice. “They saw him tonight.” “What?” “Apparently he left from a door fifty feet from where two of them stood. They went after the guy.” “Talk to me.” His heart pounding, Brandon stared at Kevin. “Who is he? What does he want? What’d the guy have to say?” “They didn’t get to talk to him.” “Hold it. They see the guy leave the concert, they’re only fifty feet away, and they couldn’t find him?” Kevin shook his head. “I don’t know what happened. They say they ran after him. Turned the same corner the guy did three seconds earlier, but when they got there the hall was empty. There were only two doors and both were locked. They would have heard a door open and shut anyway.” Heat washed over Brandon. Zennon. Had to be. Or someone who had figured out how to teleport like he and the other Warriors had. The former was more likely. Fine. Zennon wanted to stalk him? Brandon would hunt the demon in return. “Next concert I want security racked and stacked every ten yards. We’re going to corner this guy and find out who he is. And if he’s not human, I know who and what he is, and we’ll get ready for that possibility as well.” “Something right here”—Kevin pointed to his stomach—“tells me there won't need to be a next time.”_______ Thank you, James, for sharing with us today! And now, dear imps, James is generously offering a two-part giveaway. The winner will receive a copy of Soul's Gate and Memory's Door, the first two books in the Well Spring series! Be certain to enter your name in the giveaway below, and to thank James for his time today! http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/0cd52419/" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway
October 31, 2013
Childhood Chills Story Links!
Hi, imps! Below are a list of links to the various blogs participating in the Childhood Chills Blogging Story Challenge. If you have one to share, do email the link to me, and I will add you to the list--which will probably be getting updated throughout the day.
Anne Elisabeth Stengl--THE HAG
Rohan de Silva--WHAT IF IT COMES BACK?
Jill Stengl--SUNNYSIDE
Meredith Burton--THE MONSTER THAT CAME FROM NOWHERE
Jenelle Leanne Schmidt--UNDER THE BED
Amy Green--THE DOLL WITHOUT A NAME
Ashley Willis Leakey--THE HUNT
Enjoy the spookiness!
Anne Elisabeth Stengl--THE HAG
Rohan de Silva--WHAT IF IT COMES BACK?
Jill Stengl--SUNNYSIDE
Meredith Burton--THE MONSTER THAT CAME FROM NOWHERE
Jenelle Leanne Schmidt--UNDER THE BED
Amy Green--THE DOLL WITHOUT A NAME
Ashley Willis Leakey--THE HUNT
Enjoy the spookiness!
Childhood Chills: The Hag
Happy Halloween, dear imps! As promised, here is my contribution to the Childhood Chills blogging story challenge. For those of you who don't know, the challenge was to write a short story (under 2000 words) about a childhood fear . . . ending on the moment of highest tension and offering no resolution! Just like a classic ghost story. Here is my story dealing with my personal childhood monster. Enjoy!
Did you write a spooky story to share as well? If so, email me the link to your blog post (aestengl@gmail.com), and I will add your story to the list!
The HagBy A. E. Stengl
She lay unmoving in her bed, and the clock clicked the red-digit minutes by, one by one. Only five minutes until midnight. She watched the clock, waiting, counting out seconds with her breaths.
Click.
Now it was four minutes to midnight. Still she dared not move.
She knew, somehow, that she must rise. She must get out of this room. It was a simple thing really. Slide her arms out from under the duvet—the heavy duvet that felt like lead atop her, but which was stuffed only with downy feathers and worked with elegant needlepoint. Slide her arms out from under the duvet, fling it back. Swing her legs over the edge of the bed. Her robe lay across the footboard. She could grab it, pull it round her shoulders. It would take only moments, and she would be out of the room, down the hall. Flicking the light switches as she went.
So simple. And yet she lay where she was.
Click. Three minutes now to midnight.
This was ridiculous. There was no reason for her to lie here, staring up at the dark ceiling above. There was no reason for her to watch from the tail of her eye as the clock ran up its tally.
And there was nothing, absolutely nothing for her to strain her ears after. No sound save for the distant susurrus of nightly traffic beyond the complex. Shhh. Shhh. Shhh.
Hush. Hush. Hush.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid. What was she listening for anyway? There was only traffic. Traffic and silence. There was no breathing in the shadows beyond the footboard.
Amazing how—
Click.
Two minutes to midnight.
Amazing how the shades of evening will render a grown and rational mind childish once more. Amazing how fears, long since believed vanquished, will rise up from oblivion so soon after the sun has set.
When she was a little girl, she knew a blind hag stood at the foot of her bed each night. If she moved, even a toe, even finger, the hag would hear. The hag would turn. And then the hag would devour her. It was beyond rationality, but it was as true, as vital, as real in her brain as any other belief. As real as the changing of seasons. As real as a round earth. As real as God Himself.
As real as the count to midnight.
Click.
One minute now.
She should get up. It was such a stupid waste of time to lie here wide awake. There were things she could do with the lights on. Why not, if nothing else, put on the bedside lamp and read? It would be better than staring at the ceiling!
But the hag would see her if she moved.
There was no hag. There never was a hag. Long ago, she outgrew the hag and filed it away along with Santa Claus, fairies, and all those other childhood imaginings, both dear and dreadful. There was no hag waiting, poised, ready to turn and fix sightless white eyes upon her the moment she shifted where she lay. There was no need to hold herself rigid as a corpse.
She should turn on her light. That’s all. Nothing more. Just turn on the light. Slide her arm out, through the darkness, find the switch, and put it on. Just a light. Nothing more. Just light.
She slithered her hand out from under the duvet.
The hag turned her head at the sound.
Click. . . .
Childhood Chills: What If It Comes Back?
Didn't I promise you that Rohan had written a story to contribute to the Childhood Chills story challenge? Thus he makes his creative-writing debut! Do you have a spooky story to share as well?
What If It Comes Back?By Rohan de Silva
“Can’t you stay?”
His young voice desperate, Tim turned a stricken face imploringly, almost desperately, up to his father.
“Now, Tim, you’ll be just fine.” Tim’s father spoke in that tone of someone trying to be patient. “Mum will be home in fifteen minutes, and you’re perfectly safe. It’s not like you’ve never been home alone before. You’re quite old enough.”
“But that was before . . .” Tim stopped, and his eyes widened at the too-recent memories. “What if it comes back?”
His father sighed, a resigned expression on his face, and gestured to Tim as he walked out of the living room on his way to the kitchen. “Come with me.”
Tim followed. Up the three stairs that led to the dining room, left into the pantry, and through the door into the formal kitchen. Unhappily, he walked the length of the kitchen to the back door, set between windows that were always kept open to allow the breeze to blow through the house. Tim felt the welcome draft on his face and reminded himself that he did now live in a tropical country. The open windows were necessary for cooling the house, since there was no air-conditioning in these older houses.
“See?” His father drummed his fingers against the fine metal mesh on the windows. Tim hadn’t noticed the mesh as his view of one window was partially obscured by the refrigerator, and the other window was beyond the sink and the drying rack which was piled high with clean plates, bowls and dishes, just needing to be put away. No doubt he would be asked to do that later this afternoon . . . another, albeit less unhappy thought.
“Nothing’s getting through that,” Tim’s father said confidently, tapping the mesh a last time. Then, glancing at his watch, he steered Tim back out to the living room. “Now you just go on playing with your Legos, and Mum will be home soon.” So saying, he ruffled his son’s hair.
Then he was gone.
Tim looked dismally at the Legos in front of him then warily behind him toward the kitchen. The mesh would be fine. The mesh was good.
There wasn’t mesh before, when it had gotten in.
He had seen its tail out of the corner of his eye, disappearing behind the sideboard in the dining room, and wondered if he had imagined it. He had gone to investigate only to discover, to his horror, that it was really there! He had screamed, flown up the stairs and stood shivering and peering down from there as his father and mother, armed with brooms and yells, had chased it out. His father had said it probably wasn’t even one of the poisonous ones. As if this was something to be pleased about!
Tim glanced at the clock. It had only been five minutes since his father had left, yet it felt like days. He pawed listlessly at his toys, sneaking glances every now and then over his shoulder. He was just beginning to develop a story for his Lego men, when he heard it.
It wasn’t loud.
It could have been a tree outside, its branches and leaves rustling in a sudden gust of wind.
He decided that must be it, and went on playing.
A small clang sounded from the kitchen. No doubt one of the utensils had slipped off the drying rack. With the way his father liked to pile them up when he did the washing, it was a wonder that they didn’t all slip and fall.
Tim glanced at the clock. Only five minutes more and his mother should be getting home. There was no need for him to go to the kitchen to check, was there? No, no need at all.
Crash!
The initial sound was followed by a long drawn out dissonance, and Tim could see in his mind’s eye the round metal serving tray falling from the drying rack, hitting the floor, rolling, and finally making those little wobbling adjustments; like a coin hitting the floor and taking its time to come to rest. The awful noise continued for ages, it seemed to him, until finally, all was deathly still.
He had to look. It would be better to go see. Better to prove to himself that it was only his father’s bad placing of the cutlery and crockery. Nothing more. Better not to think about the fact that those same plates and bowls had been sitting there since this morning.
Not to think about the fact that something might have knocked them off.
He peered around the corner. There was the round metal tray, lying in the middle of the kitchen. A few more steps. There was the spatula, lying close to the sink. From this angle, he could clearly see the window beyond the refrigerator. All looked well.
He took a few more steps in, and bent to pick up the plate. As he straightened up, he glanced beyond the sink, beyond the drying rack to the window on that side of the room.
There was a hole in the mesh.
