Remi Michaud's Blog, page 3
September 6, 2011
Rites of Ascension II: Blood of War
The wait is over! Rites of Ascension II: Blood of War is finished! Look for it in the Kindle store at Amazon.com by the beginning of next week!
Thanks for your patience. And an extra thanks to Kathleen Valentine at Valentine Design for another phenomenal cover!
September 1, 2011
Ever Seen a Grown Man Cry?
Yeah, so have I. You hit him with a line-drive in the right place and he's bound to weep a little. But that's not the point here.
So.
Tomorrow is September 2nd. The Friday before Labour Day. Long weekend. Last big summer weekend. After this weekend, it's back to business, back to the slog, back to school.
My daughter is going to school. Junior Kindergarten. She's four.
Seems weird that I'm so choked up about this whole thing. It's a fact of life, it's a part of growing up, it is what it is. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, every time I think about it, I end up all teary eyed and caught between a deep sense of sorrow and a nearly overwhelming pride.
So.
Tomorrow, before I go to work, I'm going to drive her to school. I'm going to help her out of her seat belt (which seems to be more appropriate for a race car driver or a fighter pilot). I'm going to give her a big hug, and a kiss on the forehead. I'm going to tell her how much I love her and how proud of her I am. And then I'm going to hope she turns away before I sniffle.
Then I'll go and find a quiet place to continue working on Rites of Ascension III (title yet pending).
By the way, Blood of War is done. The final draft is here, and I like it. All I'm waiting for is the cover art. I realize it's an afterthought here but I'm thinking about my little girl.
Sorry for the maudlin ramble.
So.
Tomorrow is September 2nd. The Friday before Labour Day. Long weekend. Last big summer weekend. After this weekend, it's back to business, back to the slog, back to school.
My daughter is going to school. Junior Kindergarten. She's four.
Seems weird that I'm so choked up about this whole thing. It's a fact of life, it's a part of growing up, it is what it is. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, every time I think about it, I end up all teary eyed and caught between a deep sense of sorrow and a nearly overwhelming pride.
So.
Tomorrow, before I go to work, I'm going to drive her to school. I'm going to help her out of her seat belt (which seems to be more appropriate for a race car driver or a fighter pilot). I'm going to give her a big hug, and a kiss on the forehead. I'm going to tell her how much I love her and how proud of her I am. And then I'm going to hope she turns away before I sniffle.
Then I'll go and find a quiet place to continue working on Rites of Ascension III (title yet pending).
By the way, Blood of War is done. The final draft is here, and I like it. All I'm waiting for is the cover art. I realize it's an afterthought here but I'm thinking about my little girl.
Sorry for the maudlin ramble.
August 17, 2011
Oh My Goodness How Time Flies!
Has it been almost a month? Really? Where have I been?
More precisely, how did a month go by so quickly?
All right, well of course I know the answer to that. Between upheavals at work, a family vacation that covered half the continent (By car. With a hyper-active four year old. And a seventeen month old that has a scream that physically hurts--I know this. I heard it often), and house-type stuff that couldn't wait any longer, I've been busy. Like wake-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn-and-don't-sit-down-until-I-collapsed-zombified-into-bed busy.
So, I apologize for the dearth of updates here. I hope things have settled enough that I'll have more time to devote to this, my budding career.
There is some good news and some bad news:
The good news is, work on Rites of Ascension II: Blood of War continues. It's really, seriously, truly almost ready to hit Amazon.
The bad news is it's not going as quickly as I'd hoped. It's coming, and it's not going to be much longer, but I still need to finish revising it one last time--and I'm about half way through. The story is fine. I just want to make sure I get the words and the tone right. I'm still hoping for the end of August. There's not that much left.
So, to recap:
1) I am, in fact, alive. Sorry about the lack of updates.
2) Life happens; I've been insanely busy.
3) Blood of War is almost done. Really.
4) Thanks for your patience.
5) I'll be talking to you soon!
Now, back to getting pounced on by a hyper-active four year old and a seventeen month old with a painful scream.
More precisely, how did a month go by so quickly?
All right, well of course I know the answer to that. Between upheavals at work, a family vacation that covered half the continent (By car. With a hyper-active four year old. And a seventeen month old that has a scream that physically hurts--I know this. I heard it often), and house-type stuff that couldn't wait any longer, I've been busy. Like wake-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn-and-don't-sit-down-until-I-collapsed-zombified-into-bed busy.
So, I apologize for the dearth of updates here. I hope things have settled enough that I'll have more time to devote to this, my budding career.
There is some good news and some bad news:
The good news is, work on Rites of Ascension II: Blood of War continues. It's really, seriously, truly almost ready to hit Amazon.
The bad news is it's not going as quickly as I'd hoped. It's coming, and it's not going to be much longer, but I still need to finish revising it one last time--and I'm about half way through. The story is fine. I just want to make sure I get the words and the tone right. I'm still hoping for the end of August. There's not that much left.
So, to recap:
1) I am, in fact, alive. Sorry about the lack of updates.
2) Life happens; I've been insanely busy.
3) Blood of War is almost done. Really.
4) Thanks for your patience.
5) I'll be talking to you soon!
Now, back to getting pounced on by a hyper-active four year old and a seventeen month old with a painful scream.
July 22, 2011
Mr. Konrath is absolutely right. Again.
Here's the thing. I'm trying to become a better writer. I want my stories to mean something, to say something...and say it well.
If you're not a writer, then let me tell you: writing a book, any book, is...easy. Writing a good book...well that's hard.
Mr. Konrath over at A Newbie's Guide to Publishing tells us something very important:
Be Deliberate.
I won't bother rehashing his words here because he's done a perfectly fine job. Check it out here.
If you're not a writer, then let me tell you: writing a book, any book, is...easy. Writing a good book...well that's hard.
Mr. Konrath over at A Newbie's Guide to Publishing tells us something very important:
Be Deliberate.
I won't bother rehashing his words here because he's done a perfectly fine job. Check it out here.
July 6, 2011
Some Surprising Revelations: Books I Didn't think I'd Like
I suppose it comes as no surprise that I prefer reading fantasy novels. Specifically, I like epic and series fantasy. That love affair started when I was about twelve, so that would be...add two...carry the one...twenty-three years ago. Twenty-three years in which I have concentrated heavily on the fantasy shelves. There are plenty of good and great fantasy series out there: Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time, Terry Brooks Shannara stuff, Terry Goodkind's Sword of Truth--there are too many to enumerate here.
Lately, I've had the urge to explore, to experiment in other genres. I knew a long time ago that there were plenty of great books in other genres but I'd forgotten.
I have a few I'd like to mention here:
Seize the Night, Dean Koontz:
Wow, what descriptive writing. Each and every image he paints is absolutely the best possible image for that moment. The writing flows like water and the characters float on top. My favourite Dean Koontz book.
Over the Edge, Jonathan Kellerman:
Classic whodunit with a neat spin. Writing that evokes the old fashioned cop mysteries but somehow manages to avoid being cliched. A deeply involved mystery that had me guessing right up to the climax.
The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, Stephen King:
I have a daughter only a little younger than the protagonist, Trisha. I kept wanting to put the book down because my heart was constantly in my throat, and yet the damned thing stayed glued to my hands until I read the last word. Damn you, Mr. King. Damn you!
The Name of the Wind, Patrick Rothfuss:
I know it's fantasy so I'm cheating. It's my blog. I can do that. I haven't read Wise Man's Fear yet but if it's half as good as The Name of the Wind, then it's still better than 90% of everything else out there. That book is the most beautifully written book I've ever had the honour to read. I don't even know where to begin extolling its virtues without sounding like Mr. Rothfuss's publisher paid me copious amounts of money. Mr. Rothfuss, thank you.
There have been many other good books that have kept me up past my bedtime, or gotten me in trouble with my lovely Cori--"Remi, where's the fire extinguisher?" "Hold on, hold on. I'm at a good part."--but these are the ones that stick out most in my head.
Happy reading!
Lately, I've had the urge to explore, to experiment in other genres. I knew a long time ago that there were plenty of great books in other genres but I'd forgotten.
I have a few I'd like to mention here:
Seize the Night, Dean Koontz:
Wow, what descriptive writing. Each and every image he paints is absolutely the best possible image for that moment. The writing flows like water and the characters float on top. My favourite Dean Koontz book.
Over the Edge, Jonathan Kellerman:
Classic whodunit with a neat spin. Writing that evokes the old fashioned cop mysteries but somehow manages to avoid being cliched. A deeply involved mystery that had me guessing right up to the climax.
The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, Stephen King:
I have a daughter only a little younger than the protagonist, Trisha. I kept wanting to put the book down because my heart was constantly in my throat, and yet the damned thing stayed glued to my hands until I read the last word. Damn you, Mr. King. Damn you!
The Name of the Wind, Patrick Rothfuss:
I know it's fantasy so I'm cheating. It's my blog. I can do that. I haven't read Wise Man's Fear yet but if it's half as good as The Name of the Wind, then it's still better than 90% of everything else out there. That book is the most beautifully written book I've ever had the honour to read. I don't even know where to begin extolling its virtues without sounding like Mr. Rothfuss's publisher paid me copious amounts of money. Mr. Rothfuss, thank you.
There have been many other good books that have kept me up past my bedtime, or gotten me in trouble with my lovely Cori--"Remi, where's the fire extinguisher?" "Hold on, hold on. I'm at a good part."--but these are the ones that stick out most in my head.
Happy reading!
June 21, 2011
Upcoming: Rites of Ascension II
A few people have been asking me about Rites of Ascension II.
First of all, I have to say THANK YOU to all of you who have read The Path of the Sword. I hope you enjoyed it. For those of you who haven't read it, here's the link on Amazon. (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge).
Now, enough shilling. Back to the original question. Book two of the Rites of Ascension trilogy, tentatively called Blood of War, is close. I've finished the third draft (or is it the fourth? It's all a blur) and it's now in the hands of the proof-readers. Once they've finished giving me feedback (read: tearing it to pieces), I'll revise it one last time.
Then it's just the last details.
So, in answer to the question: It's still tentative (as you can probably tell by the lack of an exact date) but if everything goes well, I'm hoping for mid- to late August.
Of course, the closer it gets, the better I'll be able to narrow it down for you. I'll post it here first.
Thanks again to all of you! Cheers!
First of all, I have to say THANK YOU to all of you who have read The Path of the Sword. I hope you enjoyed it. For those of you who haven't read it, here's the link on Amazon. (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge).
Now, enough shilling. Back to the original question. Book two of the Rites of Ascension trilogy, tentatively called Blood of War, is close. I've finished the third draft (or is it the fourth? It's all a blur) and it's now in the hands of the proof-readers. Once they've finished giving me feedback (read: tearing it to pieces), I'll revise it one last time.
Then it's just the last details.
So, in answer to the question: It's still tentative (as you can probably tell by the lack of an exact date) but if everything goes well, I'm hoping for mid- to late August.
Of course, the closer it gets, the better I'll be able to narrow it down for you. I'll post it here first.
Thanks again to all of you! Cheers!
June 10, 2011
Thoughts On Reviews, aka An Important Conclusion
I've come to a conclusion. I think it's an important one. No, I know it's an important one.
Recently, The Path of the Sword got a three star review. This may sound strange but, after back to back to back five star reviews, I was distraught. I really was. Why strange, you ask? What's the big deal, you wonder? After all, three stars isn't that bad. It's not like it was a one star. It's not like the reviewer said the book was complete trash and buying it was a waste of money and time. In fact, the reviewer said the writing was good, that I know how to paint a picture. His main beef was that he thought my book was too long, too wordy. So, not a bad review. Not a great review, but not bad.
I got to thinking about what the reviewer said. I started trying to think about how I would incorporate his suggestions into my writing. I wrote a few pages, and I kept asking myself if this fit the bill, if I was in fact writing more efficiently.
It was about this point that I began to realize that I was doubting myself. I was second-guessing every word that I wrote. I agonized over every one of my decisions. When I went back and re-read the last few days of work, I noticed a few of things:
I was writing a lot less than usual. About two-thirds less.My writing was flimsy. It had no feel, no voice. It sounded more like a history textbook than a novel.It was no longer true to the story. This, to me, is probably the worst thing that could have happened.
I thought about that for a while and here is where I finally caught a glimpse of my big conclusion. I was no longer writing for myself; I was writing for someone else. I was, in a way, writing by committee. It showed. I was trying to write in a style that was not my own, and it showed. Those pages that I read back weren't even my writing.
What's the answer? Getting reviews is a fact of life for any writer. There will be good ones and there will be bad ones. The trick is to not allow them to dictate how I write.
I write in a particular style. In time, as I gain experience, I'm certain my writing will evolve. Perhaps I'll get better--I definitely hope so; I don't want to stagnate. I want to try new things. I want to see myself grow as a writer.
But that has to happen in its own time. I can't allow someone else to dictate a timeline for me. Otherwise, I'm forcing it, trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.
Reviews are what they are. And primarily what they are is for the readers. If a writer takes a review--good or bad--too strongly to heart, the story will suffer for it.
Lesson learned.
Recently, The Path of the Sword got a three star review. This may sound strange but, after back to back to back five star reviews, I was distraught. I really was. Why strange, you ask? What's the big deal, you wonder? After all, three stars isn't that bad. It's not like it was a one star. It's not like the reviewer said the book was complete trash and buying it was a waste of money and time. In fact, the reviewer said the writing was good, that I know how to paint a picture. His main beef was that he thought my book was too long, too wordy. So, not a bad review. Not a great review, but not bad.
I got to thinking about what the reviewer said. I started trying to think about how I would incorporate his suggestions into my writing. I wrote a few pages, and I kept asking myself if this fit the bill, if I was in fact writing more efficiently.
It was about this point that I began to realize that I was doubting myself. I was second-guessing every word that I wrote. I agonized over every one of my decisions. When I went back and re-read the last few days of work, I noticed a few of things:
I was writing a lot less than usual. About two-thirds less.My writing was flimsy. It had no feel, no voice. It sounded more like a history textbook than a novel.It was no longer true to the story. This, to me, is probably the worst thing that could have happened.
I thought about that for a while and here is where I finally caught a glimpse of my big conclusion. I was no longer writing for myself; I was writing for someone else. I was, in a way, writing by committee. It showed. I was trying to write in a style that was not my own, and it showed. Those pages that I read back weren't even my writing.
What's the answer? Getting reviews is a fact of life for any writer. There will be good ones and there will be bad ones. The trick is to not allow them to dictate how I write.
I write in a particular style. In time, as I gain experience, I'm certain my writing will evolve. Perhaps I'll get better--I definitely hope so; I don't want to stagnate. I want to try new things. I want to see myself grow as a writer.
But that has to happen in its own time. I can't allow someone else to dictate a timeline for me. Otherwise, I'm forcing it, trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.
Reviews are what they are. And primarily what they are is for the readers. If a writer takes a review--good or bad--too strongly to heart, the story will suffer for it.
Lesson learned.
June 2, 2011
Family Life
Okay.
The kids are in bed.
Right.
My nasty case of bronchitis has now calmed itself to the occasional fit of coughing and I can actually smell things (food good; dirty diapers baaaad). My lovely Cori is quietly watching news.
Awesome.
I have time now, right now, to either write a little or maybe promote myself a little on-line.
Perfect.
You know what? I'm bone tired. I'm seeing two of every letter I'm typing (I hope you're not!). My children have run me ragged. Who would have thought a baby with legs shorter than my forearm could run so fast? The only one in this house who seems able to keep up with the baby is my four year old daughter.
After we got home from work today, the normal rush was on: dinner, clean-up bath. Followed by a little play time for the kids. Each time they fell silent for more than three seconds, Cori and I exchanged a horrified look and mounted a frantic search for them to find out exactly what it was they were doing.
I'm exhausted.
Book two of Rites of Ascension is sitting there waiting for beta readers ("Honey?!?").
Book three is coming along fine; I'm a little behind schedule but not as far back as I thought I might be so really I'm ahead of schedule at being behind schedule...
I think I'm taking a night off.
Say good night, Gracie.
Good night, Gracie.
The kids are in bed.
Right.
My nasty case of bronchitis has now calmed itself to the occasional fit of coughing and I can actually smell things (food good; dirty diapers baaaad). My lovely Cori is quietly watching news.
Awesome.
I have time now, right now, to either write a little or maybe promote myself a little on-line.
Perfect.
You know what? I'm bone tired. I'm seeing two of every letter I'm typing (I hope you're not!). My children have run me ragged. Who would have thought a baby with legs shorter than my forearm could run so fast? The only one in this house who seems able to keep up with the baby is my four year old daughter.
After we got home from work today, the normal rush was on: dinner, clean-up bath. Followed by a little play time for the kids. Each time they fell silent for more than three seconds, Cori and I exchanged a horrified look and mounted a frantic search for them to find out exactly what it was they were doing.
I'm exhausted.
Book two of Rites of Ascension is sitting there waiting for beta readers ("Honey?!?").
Book three is coming along fine; I'm a little behind schedule but not as far back as I thought I might be so really I'm ahead of schedule at being behind schedule...
I think I'm taking a night off.
Say good night, Gracie.
Good night, Gracie.
May 23, 2011
Back From the Land of the Dead...
...Sort of.
My wife holds a job in an office building which can be called, to put it as nicely as possible, a 90 000 square foot petrie dish. My children go to a babysitter everyday where they interact with a bunch of smaller, cuter, more boogery petrie dishes, two of whom have paramedics for parents. I have a day job where I interact with the general public and take their money...which are paper petrie dishes.
This is not a good formula.
Now comes the clincher:
I, apparently, am the polar opposite of Typhoid Mary. I'm not the starting point for illness. I'm the end point. For (and I think I'm exaggerating only a little here) all of them.
I've been in no shape to sit at my computer and socialize with everyone. Frankly, I've been in no shape to sit up at all. The only thing I've been useful for this past week has been to finally discover exactly how many crumpled tissues can fit in a wire trash can. I'm sure you're all ecstatic to know that question has finally, finally, been answered. The paper outlining my findings in the great Tissues in a Trash Can experiment will publish in Scientific American sometime next...well...never.
Anyway, I'm starting to feel better. The verdict isn't in but my arms don't feel ready to pop out of their sockets at any given moment so I'm going to go ahead and stay positive.
Now I can get back to all the fun--the blogging, Kindleboards.com, Stumbling (the worth of which should never be underestimated).
And,of course, I can get back to writing. I've been too busy counting tissues to write and that's terrible! I've got three novels and about six short stories I want to get to and I've spent the past week lazing about doing nothing more important than trying to figure out how hard a person has to cough to eject a lung!
Happy days everyone! I don't think I'm going to die anymore!
My wife holds a job in an office building which can be called, to put it as nicely as possible, a 90 000 square foot petrie dish. My children go to a babysitter everyday where they interact with a bunch of smaller, cuter, more boogery petrie dishes, two of whom have paramedics for parents. I have a day job where I interact with the general public and take their money...which are paper petrie dishes.
This is not a good formula.
Now comes the clincher:
I, apparently, am the polar opposite of Typhoid Mary. I'm not the starting point for illness. I'm the end point. For (and I think I'm exaggerating only a little here) all of them.
I've been in no shape to sit at my computer and socialize with everyone. Frankly, I've been in no shape to sit up at all. The only thing I've been useful for this past week has been to finally discover exactly how many crumpled tissues can fit in a wire trash can. I'm sure you're all ecstatic to know that question has finally, finally, been answered. The paper outlining my findings in the great Tissues in a Trash Can experiment will publish in Scientific American sometime next...well...never.
Anyway, I'm starting to feel better. The verdict isn't in but my arms don't feel ready to pop out of their sockets at any given moment so I'm going to go ahead and stay positive.
Now I can get back to all the fun--the blogging, Kindleboards.com, Stumbling (the worth of which should never be underestimated).
And,of course, I can get back to writing. I've been too busy counting tissues to write and that's terrible! I've got three novels and about six short stories I want to get to and I've spent the past week lazing about doing nothing more important than trying to figure out how hard a person has to cough to eject a lung!
Happy days everyone! I don't think I'm going to die anymore!
