Alex Laybourne's Blog, page 106

God Save Our…..Pride

England was once a great nation, and on the inside, deep down I am proud to be English. A country with a great history, a proud heritage and a reputation for greatness. Yet on the outside I am ashamed of my country. Not because of what it was – and let's face it, we were brutal – but because of what it has become.

I have just been back home for a week, – as I now live in The Netherlands – and am happy to say that it felt more like a holiday than it did going home. England is no longer my home and that makes me smile.

Sure I miss the countryside, the beautiful rolling hills and wooded areas, but the people more than shatter the illusion of a great England.

A week of the banal, moronic existence that seems to accurately capture the majority of the country, is more than enough to keep me safe in the knowledge that I made the right decision to up sticks and move away.

I am not sure what happened, but the proud, stiff upper lip English men and women of yore seem to have been overthrown by obese, lazy, foul-mouthed morons who breed for the extra income it gives them. And whose ideas of parenting and responsible living seem to extend no further than ensuring both they and their children put their underwear on the inside of their trousers…. at least 4 days of the week.

I don't think anything can better capture by sheer embarrassment better than the conversation I overheard a women having on her mobile while standing outside – blocking the exit – of our local ASDA.

Well you've got your appointment, you don't have to work, you can keep getting money from the state. It's perfect, I don't see the problem.

If that isn't the sign of a troubled country and pointless waste of life then I do not know what is.

This is all the consequence of a government all too happy to dish out benefits and not bother to enforce the rules that surround them. I mean, my mother is disabled, and so claims DLA (disability living allowance) and I know several people who are unemployed and are genuinely looking for work and trying their best to make the most of a tough situation. Yet when I drive past the job centre at 9.30 and see people queuing up in tatty shirts with a four back of Special Brew on the wall next to them, I cannot accept that they are honestly looking for work. It is a shame that the current generation's best chance of getting a qualification is if an ASBO (Anti Social Behaviour Order) becomes something they can attach to their name.

From our strong history to our powerful - and in my view tremendous - language, every aspect of English life is being butchered by people who do not deserve the right to call themselves English.

England you should be ashamed of yourself, what was once a great and proud nation has been reduced to a laughing-stock.

Back Home Again

The holiday was great. Back home in the town I grew up in. It managed to completely reaffirm something that I already knew. I am just so glad I got out of England.

England has a proud, proud history, and even I am proud of that, but the current … well lets say past, current and from I have witnessed future generation(s) are happily destroying it by being nothing but ungrateful, lazy slobs who do not want to do anything that isn't all about them. That however is a post (or two) for the coming days. An advance warning, these posts will no doubt be very controversial.

I figured that after such a long absence I had better start with something writerly.

As you will remember (I hope) my novel Highway to Hell is currently with the editors, and sadly, or should I say embarrassingly enough, it is taking longer than expected. I spoke to him whilst on holiday and discovered I have a slight problem – ready very large problem – with run on sentences. Something I am not going to work hard on eradicating from work.

They good news is that the worst problems were this, grammar issues, and not large plot holes or terrible prose. Which I find thanks to my rather fragile self-esteem to be a huge relief.

I should be getting the finished work back sometime this week, and the same with my cover art. All in all I am delighted that my editor – Everything Indie – was so brutally honest with me because it means that A. they know what they are doing, and B. I know what I need to focus on with my second novel.

Also, I has given me the idea to start a weekly post about Grammar. Starting at the very beginning and working my way through.

As it is now time to unpack the bags and get a cup of that good dutch coffee I have been craving all week, I will bid you farewell. It is great to be back and I am pleased to see you all.

 

Jump!

I stand on the ledge, the wind rushes against my face and I can't hold back the tears. I blame the wind but it doesn't matter. Not anymore.

I look down and see my family. Their faces a mixture of fear and sadness. My wife stares at me, she calls to me not to do it.

I shuffle closer. My toes now stick out over the edge and I can feel the pull of the earth grabbing at them. A strange sensation rushes over me. A calm that just can't be explained.

I have caused them so much hurt over the years. The drinking, the gambling, I threw it all away and with it tossed them aside. I would disappear for days on end, sometimes even weeks. I would drink myself to the point of death and then sober up at the casino, and then start all over again, coming home not because I missed them, because I wanted to read my son a bed-time story or watch my son take his first steps. But because I had nothing left.

I take another step, my balance shifts, the wind increases. I can feel myself approach the point of no return. If I just lean forward now, then it will be over with. The hurt and the pain will be left behind.

I take a breath, I remember the good times as the tears stream down my face. My legs weaken. I see my son being born, I remember holding my daughter close to me for days on end. They were happy times. Times I wanted back.

"I've changed my mind." I call, but I'm too far away from them.

I don't need to do this, to be standing here. I could turn and walk away and still be that person I once was. I can change.

I turn… I slip… I fall

The air rushes past me, I flail with my arms as I try to claw my way back up, but it is no use.

I hear their gasps, and when I looked I see the scream etched onto my daughters face.'

"I'm so sorry honey" I call, but they are too far away, and I am falling too fast.

The ground speeds towards me, my hear thunders in my chest. I can't believe it came to this, how did I let it get that far.

The concrete is but meters away, my body wants to close its eyes and curl up. Yet I am done with being a coward. I force them open and gaze at my family. I rush past them now, and I see their faces turn into smiles. "

I let myself go, this was my decision and I would see it through. I stare and my hand, I clasp the small medallions tightly. I turned it over within my clenched fist.

I still find it hard to believe. 5 years sober. I am proud of myself, and doing this was the best way to move on, to leave it all behind.

I smile just as the cord reaches its stretch and fires me back up into the air. This time I look around and the see the beauty in the world.

"YES" I scream, and as the bungee cord bounces again I feel that old drunk fall away and all that's left is ….

Me.

Prologue: Sweet Light by Jennifer Wylie

Before I start this post I would just like that thank my guest author this week, Jennifer Wylie. It was my first attempt at showcasing another author – a summary post is to follow tomorrow – and judging from my increased hits and comments this week it has been a success. I can only hope this translates into similar success for Jennifer.

Now without further ado It is my honour to provide you all with a tantalizing preview of Jennifer's debut novel… Sweet Light.

 

Blood arced through the air as his sword slashed across his enemy's neck. He turned his head away, avoiding the spray while seeking his next opponent. They attacked from everywhere, these northern barbarians who invaded his land so suddenly.

He grimaced and parried the awkward blow of an ax as he spun to kill another enemy. He ducked the axman's second attack and twisted to slice through the man's scant armor. For a moment, the space around him remained clear and he searched for his men. They had lost formation, but he wasn't worried. The Southerners called them barbarians. They weren't, not like these newcomers from further north, who covered themselves with nothing but leather and hides and often painted their faces as well.

At least his men wore real armor and battled with good weapons. They fought in formation like the Southerners, but could also fight on their own. They even learned to fight in pairs in the style of armies past, before Glendor became a country and nomadic clans roamed their land.

He cursed as the invaders pushed his men back. If a god of war truly existed, he had surely abandoned them this day.

He laughed at his own thought. The gods disappeared long ago. They remained only in stories and distant memories, all except Lady Death. She likely walked the field even as she crossed his mind. He feared he would see her terrible beauty this day.

"Fall back!" He raised his arm and gained the attention of the men nearest him.

His soldiers reacted to the command and made their way toward camp. The enemy continued to fight with every step. Would they get no respite?

He gathered his men as they neared camp. Chaos reigned within as cooks, field medics, wounded soldiers, and the rest scrambled to evacuate. She caught his attention and filled his vision, the slip of girl who called herself a healer. She came from the south, from Hancar. Her large brown eyes and hair, a mass of brown curls, gave her a child-like appearance. The king acquired her mere months ago to tend those at the keep. At the first sign of attack, the king ordered her north to tend the wounded.

He initially scoffed at the king's decision. The worst the girl had seen had been kitchen injuries and runny noses. However, in the days since she had arrived at the border, he had changed his opinion. She deftly splinted bones and stitched wounds, even though he could see she wanted to be anywhere but here.

She stood frozen with fear near one of the tents, eyes wide at the carnage around her. Gods, she looked innocent, small, and helpless. He cursed the king for bringing her to the border and for not taking her back to the city with him.

The king, thinking the worst passed, had left the battlefield a day earlier and took a good part of the army with him. He ordered his men to remain behind and deal with the Northern stragglers.

Unfortunately, more of the enemy remained than first thought. Glendor scouts found nothing to indicate their presence. He had no reason to doubt the skill of his scouts, and yet…Where had they all come from?

He resumed the fight, arms aching. He left behind a trail of blood that covered everything. The invaders fought relentlessly as they pushed forward, heedless of their own dwindling numbers. His men regrouped and held their ground at the edge of camp. It did not take long before the Northerners forced them back into the camp itself.

They sidestepped around scattered gear, fire pits, and tents as they fought. He pushed himself harder in an attempt to buy time for his people to escape. He tried to ignore the screams around him and had little desire to consider how many of the horrid pleas belonged to civilians slaughtered throughout the camp.

He feared for the safety of their healer. Gods only knew what would happen should she be lost. Not only would it decimate the men's morale, but her death might cause repercussions with their southern neighbors as well. Hancar valued their healers above all else. If he allowed the one in Glendor to be killed…he did not even want to consider the consequences. They did not want Hancar as an enemy. Theirs was a large and greatly populated country with a daunting army. Its size easily dissuaded invasion by its neighbors.

He pushed his thoughts aside as he struck out, killing another man as he sought out the healer again. He finally spotted her astride a horse, struggling to keep the frightened animal under control. He grimaced. She should have long since retreated with the others.

After a few tense moments, she gained control of her mount and moved forward. He released the lungful of air he had not realized he held.

He turned his attention back to the battle in time to see a Northerner raise his bow and take aim at the healer. Shit!

Anger raged through him as he ran forward, his sword making short work of all in his path. While he raced toward him, the Northerner released not one, but three arrows in quick succession. He rammed his shoulder against the Northerner, foiling a fourth volley and sending them both to the ground. He reeled back and plunged his sword into the man's chest. The fallen bowman's scream joined those of so many others who lie scattered and dying around them.

He stood, his sword once again red with the blood of his enemy. He searched for the girl, and caught a glimpse of her as her horse veered wildly off into the woods to the south. Her mount had been hit, but she looked unscathed. Thank the gods.

However, the direction she rode caused him to growl in frustration. Bloody hells. She would get herself lost or worse–killed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement to his left. Before he could react, pain flared across his stomach as the Northerner's blade sliced through his leather armor.

He sprang forward in rage and pain, his blade striking a fatal blow. He cursed as the man slid off his sword and fell to the ground. He looked to the south again and saw no sign of the girl. With a growl, he swiveled and surveyed the camp.

"Regroup!" Forearm pressed to the wound on his stomach, he strode back into the fray.

He had to stop thinking about her and concentrate on the fighting ahead. Thoughts of a woman while in battle would lead to defeat, if not death. One of the many reasons he avoided them. A feminine distraction was neither wanted nor acceptable, and gods forbid he ever fall in love. Hah! The idea held no desire for him. He had always been, and would remain, a dedicated soldier, a warrior…a killer. His life held no room for the nonsense of love.

Despite such thoughts, he glanced back over his shoulder once more.

If you like what you have read so far, then you will be pleased to know that Jennifer Wylie's novel can be found :

Ebook Available at:

Omnilit: Sweet Light

Smashwords: Sweet Light

Amazon: Sweet Light

B&N: Sweet Light

Available in Print at:

Createspace: Sweet Light

Amazon: Sweet Light

 

You can also contact the author herself at any on of these social media haunts.

Her website: www.jenniferwylie.ca

twitter: @jen_wylie

Goodreads:  Jen Wylie

Facebook fan page: Jennifer Wylie

Smashwords author page: Jen Wylie

Amazon Author page: Jen Wylie

Her blog: http://jlwylie.wordpress.com/

Sweet Light: A Preview Preview

Sweet Light

by Jen Wylie

A dazzling journey of fantasy and romance.

Born a healer but destined to rule, love comes naturally for Shara, but at a price. Like all leaders, the decisions she makes could impact the  world she lives in. It's the ones that impact her heart, she fears the most…

When fate conspires against you and gives you three loves to choose from, what do you do? What if you make the wrong choice?

Shara is a healer, raised and trained from childhood until her unique gift manifests itself. When she gains the rank Journeyman she is hired to serve as the court healer for the barbaric kingdom of Glendor.

Untrained for war, she is thrust unmercifully into its bloody arms when the kingdom is invaded. Ordered by her king to the front lines to tend the wounded, she is forced to flee when their camp is attacked. Happening upon a wounded soldier in the forest, every mile back to the capital is a struggle, and breaking the healer's code, she falls in love with her charge.

If Shara thought that to be the least of her troubles, the appearance of a fierce warrior captain who appoints himself her protector, teaches her differently. Trouble comes in threes at the appearance of a former love and fellow healer. Faced with decisions of the heart and the sudden manifestation of her gift, there is little room for anything else to go wrong. Or at least that's what Shara thought.

Come back tomorrow for a tantalizing snippet of Sweet Light, I promise that you will not be disappointed.

 

Introducing: Jennifer Wylie

Following on from her guest post yesterday, debut writer Jennifer Wylie also took the time to answer a few of my questions.

When and why did you begin writing?

I started writing in public school,  but really got into it in high school. It was just  something I wanted to do,  needed to do. I have so many stories in my head and they need to come out. I  did go to university and got a degree, however things happen, as they tend to  do, and I ended up being a Mom rather than finding a career. I wouldn't change that for the world. I didn't write for a number of years when the kids were little but once they were a bit older, and my brain started functioning again, the need to write came back. Writing is something I can do from home, so I certainly lucked out there.

Did you know straight away that it was what you wanted to do?

I always wanted to write…getting published was an odd thought here and there, sort of a 'wouldn't that be cool!'. Then my parents finally convinced me to give it a try and I did!

What inspired you to write your first book?

Sweet Light is my first published book, however I had written some previously- back in the days of floppy discs, and I lost a couple to computer crashes and corrupted discs. As for inspiration, for the most part the stories just come to me randomly, popping into my head. Music plays a big part, setting my mood for a scene or sometimes a lyric will give me

an idea.

Do you have a specific approach to you writing? (plotting, scheduled writing times etc)

I just write. No outlines or anything. Though sometimes nearing an end of a book I'll jot down a few notes to make sure loose ends are all tied up. I also have no trouble writing in circles, if I get stuck at part I'll skip ahead, or if a scene later on comes to me I'll write it down and go back and forth like that.

As for writing times, usually in the evening after the kids go to bed and all the housework is mostly caught up. Sometimes I'll write a little during the day if I have a deadline or a spare moment

How did you come up with the title?

Ohhh, I soo suck at titles. I think because I know how important they can be and I want the perfect one. This one took me forever. Basically the Sweet comes from the many references to Shara being sweet throughout the book, and her men often call her pet names with sweet in them. The Light comes partly from her being very innocent at the start of the book, and also partly from her healing powers-which are described as a

green light.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

I just hope they'll enjoy the story. Though it isn't based on anything in my life, it still contains many situations and emotions which people deal with. A person does their best with choices and situations they are given.

If you had to choose, which writer(s) or what book(s) has inspired you the most?

A wide range of fantasy. Some of my first favorites which sucked me in (at a preteen age) were Anne McCaffrey, Mercedes Lackey and David Eddings. I don't really find any particular authors or books inspire me to write…I just enjoy reading and enjoy writing

What book are you reading now?

Right now I'm read Senior Year Bites by J.A. Campbell.

What are your current projects?

I'm currently working on my Tales of Ever short story series, three have been published so far, with the fourth to be out any day now. It is a fantasy for reluctant young adult readers, however is quite popular with adults too. I also have Sweet Light's sequel I'm going over again before submitting. I've a number of other small projects on the go too, but we'll see how much time I have to work on them!

If you had to do it all over again, would you change anything in your latest book?

Nope, I'm quite happy with how it turned out!

What do you find to be the most challenging aspect of writing?

I have had a number of technical issues with my writing. The last number of months I have

been working really hard on learning all my proper punctuation and grammar use. I guess I should have paid more attention in English class in school. Also doing the rounds and rounds and edits afterward LOL That rather makes my eyes cross.

Who is your favorite author and what is it that really strikes you about their

work?

I have too many favorites, and it really depends on my mood. I love Michella Sagaras Cast

series, Theodore Sturgeons short stories always enthral me. There is a lot of great new stuff coming out lately as well. Pretty much I like anything fantasy with some twists and at least a hint of romance.

Who designed the cover?

My most awesome cover for Sweet Light was done by Nathalie Moore.

Did you learn anything from writing your book and what was it?

Mostly technical stuff. Proper word use, avoiding over use of words, punctuation rules etc. Nothing overly exciting

Do you have any advice for other writers?

DON'T GIVE UP! Seriously, everything takes a while. There will be a lot of not so fun times. Keep trying and plugging along and for goodness sake DO YOUR HOMEWORK! Google is your friend, find out everything you need to know about writing, publishing, marketing, editing. It will only help you!

Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers?

Big sun shiny hugs to you all and thanks so much for reading my work! I hope you enjoyed it and I love to hear from you, so feel free to drop me a note or say hi! I'm on twitter, facebook and you can stop by my website (www.jenniferwylie.ca) too.

You can contact Jennifer, and find her wonderful novel Sweet Light at any of the following places.

twitter: @jen_wylie

Goodreads:  Jen Wylie

Facebook fan page: Jennifer Wylie

Smashwords author page: Jen Wylie

Amazon Author page: Jen Wylie

My blog: http://jlwylie.wordpress.com/

Jennifer's novel Sweet Light is also in stores now, so grab your copy today.

Ebook Available at:

Omnilit: Sweet Light

Smashwords: Sweet Light

Amazon: Sweet Light

B&N: Sweet Light

Available in Print at:

Createspace: Sweet Light

Amazon: Sweet Light

Guest Post : When Real Life beats Fiction.

This week my blog is being dedicated to showcasing a wicked new author. JENNIFER WYLIE.

Jennifer Wylie was born and raised in Ontario, Canada. In a cosmic twist of fate she dislikes the snow and cold.

Before settling down to raise a family, she attained a BA from Queens University and worked in retail and sales.

Thanks to her mother she acquired a love of books at an early age and began writing in public school. She constantly has stories floating around in her head, and finds it amazing most people don't. Jennifer writes various forms of fantasy, both novels and short stories. Sweet Light is her debut novel published in 2011 by Echelon Press.

Jennifer resides in rural Ontario, Canada with her two boys, Australian shepherd a flock of birds and a disagreeable amount of wildlife.

Sometimes no matter how great your imagination…you just can't beat real life.

I sit at my desk. The sky is grey and overcast. Thunder rumbles in the distance. I'm alone except for the dog. I'm quietly puttering away at marketing and preparing stuff for my blog…then it happens.

-Bang. Bang!-

I look out the window, but no one is here. There is not car in the driveway other than mine. No neighbors standing on the step.

-Bang!-

Something scratches at the front door.

-Bang!-

I get up from my chair, wondering what is going on. The banging and strange scratching continues. I look out the door window…but nothing is there.

The sounds won't stop and I stare at the metal door in confusion and fear. Should I open it? My heart pounds rapidly. Why do these things happen when I'm alone? Looking out the window again, I see nothing outside, the step is cement and there is no way the metallic sounds are coming from underneath. Something is making noises at the door…something

I can't see…

The dog is barking crazily as the sounds continues.

-Bang!- scraaaatch!

I place my hand on the door knob, my heart in my throat, and jerk the door open.

No one is there.

The sounds have stopped.

I look down.

.

.

The biggest painted turtle I have ever seen looks up at me and then waddles off into the flower bed beside the door.

I blink.

The dog looks at me in confusion.

My heart is still pounding as I close the door.

Alrighty then… darn.. I should have taken a picture!

My imagination is pretty big and crazy. I can invent monsters and strange characters, even whole worlds. Sometimes though a real life situation comes up with something even more entertaining. I understand why a lot of writers people watch. Ever had this happen to you?

Now I need to find a way to work this into a story…

Stay tuned, for tomorrow I will be posting an interview that I conducted with Jennifer and on Wednesday an extract from her amazing debut novel Sweet Light. In the mean time however feel free to look Jennifer up, she can be found at any and all of the links below.

My website: www.jenniferwylie.ca

twitter: @jen_wylie

Goodreads:  Jen Wylie

Facebook fan page: Jennifer Wylie

Smashwords author page: Jen Wylie

Amazon Author page: Jen Wylie

My blog: http://jlwylie.wordpress.com/

Jennifer's novel Sweet Light is also in stores now, so grab your copy today.

Ebook Available at:

Omnilit: Sweet Light

Smashwords: Sweet Light

Amazon: Sweet Light

B&N: Sweet Light

Available in Print at:

Createspace: Sweet Light

Amazon: Sweet Light

Supporting The Indie World: 60 Hour Tweetathon

As writers we put in long hours behind the PC. checking Syntax, grammar and overall flow and growth of story arc. However, I don't think any of us have gone 60 hours straight. No sleep and fresh air, just 60 hours behind the PC. Yet that is exactly what my friend A D Lane is doing to raise money for his movie franchise. All of his movies are completely fan funded, a labor not of love, but of passion, of desire.

At the time of writing he is into hour 20 of a 60 hours tweetahton and is hoping to raise $10,000. Please join me and help him reach his target. All donations can be made via his website and even give you the chance to get your name in the credits.

But that is enough from me. I'm going to hand the floor to Gremlins star Zach Galligan… Take it away Billy!

Beneath Still Waters

I watch you through the water. Your face stares at me with a look of surprise and shock.

Did it really come to this?  You ask.

We were in love once. You and I. Both young and wild. I remember the first time I saw you. It was love at first sight. It was a fancy dress party, you were an angel, I was the devil. You were drunk but we exchanged numbers.

Looking back, maybe the signs were always there.

We fell in love, there was never any question of it. I love to this day, maybe that is why it came down to this. The whirlwind came, we were different in so many ways, but we didn't care. You drank a lot, but it was college, there was always a party going on. I drank too, pulled more pranks than anybody in our dorm. But then again, I drank for fun, to enjoy myself. You drank to run… to hide.

The water blurs your face and all I see are your eyes as they stare back at me, accusing. Even now you feel it is all my fault.

My tears mix with the water like oil as I watch you sink away, my heart is heavy. I wish I could have saved you. The chances were there, and I tried to take them, but you were never ready. You had no problem you would scream. Every quick to anger, the temper flashes and violent bursts.

I hid the bruises, and with time they healed, but they marked my soul and drove me to this.

Even now as everything grows dark; night falls early today, I know I made the right choice. To take a stand and walk away. Only you wouldn't let me.

We stood and argued, you fought… that was when… I fell. No, not this time. There will be no more excuses. I love you my dear Anabella, and I always will. We love because of faults, not in spite of them, but there comes a time that it must end.

hear the sirens, their ring distorted by the water as it pulls me down. I could fight my way back to the surface, but then I would lie for you, cover for you, like I covered the bruises of your every touch.

ROW80: Summary

Well, I did not manage to finish the edits on my book, however, thanks to two very productive spells yesterday and today (thank you early mornings and lunch breaks) which has seen me edit almost 6000, I am close enough to be more than happy with that I have achieved. I have 20 pages to go and am confident that these will not pose any real difficulty.

Since this round began back in April, I have edited a grand total of 90,963 words. That averages out to 1,137 words per day.  When broken down like that I am even more proud of what I have accomplished.

Sure there were some rough days, patches where I thought that scratching my head with a cheese grater would be more productive that what I was doing, but I forged my way through. Thanks in large part to the wonderful people who took the time to comment on my posts, and offer me numerous pep talks, compliments or simple salutations across the social media world, and for that I would like to say… THANK YOU.

Other writerly achievements I have made this round include saving up enough from my small freelance writing projects to be able to pay for a good copy editor to give my novel a complete check over. This was something I didn't do (and couldn't afford) for my short story collection and it weighs so heavily on my mind that I am going to revise the entire collection and re-publish it later this year.

I also nailed down the title of the book, which changed once I found the cover art – base image – that I wanted. Luckily for me, my brother-in-law is a graphic designer and has agreed to help me with it.

I know for a fact that before the next round begins I will have finished the edits on Highway To Hell and will be ready to begin – if I have not already – work on the second book of the trilogy.

I hope that you will all join me for the start of Round Three, and in the meantime I guarantee there will be no shortage of posts and short stories to keep you amused.

 

Thanks for dropping by