Gregory S. Slomba's Blog, page 2
April 28, 2025
Character Interviews: Stigidae Ghostwing
Over the next couple of months, I will be posting a series of character interviews. These are all important folks from the Deliverers series. I ran them on my original blog years ago, as well as during my recently completed blog tour. Hopefully, you will find them amousing.
Today we interview one of the stars of theDeliverers Series, Stigidae Ghostwing (Stig for short). He’s an owl whorecruits young Eric Scott to come with him on an Assignment–a mission to helpsave another world.
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Greg: Welcome to the Deliverers Publishing Headquarters, Stig.Thanks for taking the time to, um, perch with us.
Stig: It’smy pleasure entirely, I assure you. I say, your headquarters is really quiteimpressive.
Greg: Oh, how so?
Stig: Well,the sheer size of the place for one thing, and the fine art and furnishings, tosay nothing of all the awards and autographed political and celebrityphotographs. I mean, who knew this was such an accomplished organization!
Greg: Stop, I’m blushing.But this isn’t about us. We want to hear about you. What was your childhoodlike? Were you an only owl?
Stig: I was an onlychild. It was rather difficult. You see, my childhood lasted for about 150years. Most of that time was spent in school. Owls are nothing if not educated.When I wasn’t in school I was with my parents hunting for mice, moles, and theoccasional rabbit.
Mother was kindly and very understanding of my youthful foibles. Myfather was a most respectable business owl, and did not go in for any “carryingon” whatsoever. This led to some friction between us when I entered myadolescent years. I must confide that, just between you and I, I was quite thehellion back in those days. Eventually, I settled down and became somewhatrespectable myself, but the entire process was rather painful.
Greg: What is your world like?
Stig: Oh, much like any other, I suppose. Owls are the predominant species.We’ve developed a very learned society, known for our universities. A niceplace altogether, but not really my cup of tea. I don’t spend much time therethese days, what with my Assignments and all.
Greg: How did you first getsent on an Assignment?
Stig: I first stumbled uponthe Hallway of Worlds when I chanced upon a doorway while exploring a caveon my world. This was, let me see, over 100 years ago when I was around320 or so. I can’t begin to describe my amazement when I found myself in theHallway.
Then, the Gatekeeper appeared. He seemed to have been expecting me.Naturally, I was skeptical when he told me he needed my help, but I could notdeny that I was not in the cave that I had entered, so I agreed to help him asbest I could.
That was the first of many Assignments in my service to the Gatekeeper.It took a long time until I was chosen to lead an Assignment.
Greg: Let me guess, that was this last mission with Eric, right?
Stig: Mmmm…Yes. Apparently, the Gatekeeper had his eye on Eric for some time.He asked me to approach him with an Assignment. Mind you, I wasn’t sure Ericwould accept. He was going through an extremely rough patch, and had quite alarge chip on his shoulder. Thankfully, I was able to convince him, whichworked out to everyone’s benefit.
Greg: What do you like to do in your spare time?
Stig: Well, I don’t have much of it, I can tell you. I teach a class atuniversity on my home world every other semester. I enjoy it—it’s a real hoot.
Greg: Did you know Hedwig, Harry Potter’s owl?
Stig: Oh, not that well. We flew in different circles. The few times I didmeet her, she didn’t have much to say. Bad show what happened to her, but shedied bravely. For me, it underscored just how unpredictable life can be.
Greg : How has the release ofthe book impacted your life?
Stig: I’ve worked in virtualanonymity for over 100 years, so it was a trifle disconcerting to have thebright light of the media turned upon my work. All in all, though, I must saythat it has been surprisingly satisfying. For one thing, it was an excellent Assignment.For another, it gave me a chance to work as part of a team, which was a mostsingular experience.
Eric, Kate, and Hallo were fun to work with, although a trifleexasperating at times. Each brings their own expertise to an Assignment, and Ithink we play well off each other. I’m looking forward to working with themagain in future.
Greg: So, do you think you will all take part in futureAssignments?
Stig: From what the Gatekeeper says, I would think it stands to reason. Thereare thousands of worlds out there, and more than a few are encounteringdifficulties, so I would think you could count on it.
Greg: Well, thank you for your time Stig. I look forward toreading about The Deliverers’ future Assignments.
Stig: You’re quite welcome. The pleasure has beenall mine. Now, do you think you could help me find my way out of the building?All the passages are quite confusing, and I can’t make head or tail out of themap you gave me.
April 19, 2025
Tales of the Dragon Islands: Chapter 2
S
he led them through the largeweather-beaten main red doors of the orphanage. The interior was drab anddreary. Ben shivered involuntarily as he passed inside. He always hated comingback to this place. While Madame Fru and the other women who ran the orphanagewere never cruel, kindness was not their strength, either. The ladies of theDragon Children’s Home performed their task of guiding the children in theircharge through the task of growing to useful adulthood, when they could bereleased into society to take their place as productive, if not somewhatscarred, members.
Theywalked along the main corridor toward a staircase at the far end, theirfootsteps muffled on a red, slightly threadbare rug. Halfway down the hall,Madame Fru halted. Ben and Mailynn almost bumped into her, so suddenly did shestop.
Theold woman turned to a door on her left. Turning the levered handle, it openedwith a creak. She ushered them inside and closed the door. Sitting behind alacquered mahogany desk, she indicated two small, carved chairs. The childrensat, heads bowed.
“Well,we certainly have had a night,” she said. “What caused you to break curfew thistime…hmmm?”
“Nothing,”Ben said without looking up.
MadameFru frowned. “Nothing? Well, that ‘nothing’ has caused a great deal of troublefor me. What you call nothing could have dire consequences for this orphanageand the children who call it home.
“Itwas chartered more than 100 years ago as a refuge for children orphaned by thenorthmen’s raids. The Dragon herself established it. Countless numbers ofchildren have grown up under our tutelage and left to take their place insociety. Some have even gone on to careers of distinction and importance.”
Benshrugged. “Yeah, so? What’s that got to do with me?”
Mailynnsitting next to him nudged him with her elbow. He looked over and glowered ather. She shook her head, frowning.
Heknew that look. It said, “Shut up, you’re only making it worse.”
“Ithas everything to do with you,” Madame Fru hissed—so sharply that Bensnapped his head around and looked up at her. “Why do you think I put up withyour constant disobedience? You might not realize it, but you have tremendouspotential—both of you—yet you insist on pursuing these night forays. You arenot Denchi, and stubbornly clinging to that aim will rob you—and Dragon Home—ofwhat you could one day be.”
“Iam sorry, Madame Fru,” Mailynn said, bowing her head. “You are right, ofcourse. We must apply ourselves more. It is unrealistic to strive for whatcannot be attained. Isn’t that right, Ben?”
Bensighed and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry, Madame Fru. We’llwork harder, I promise.”
Theold woman rose, her wrinkled face breaking into a small smile. “I am glad thatyou are beginning to see the sense in what I say. Now, it is late. We shallspeak no more of this, and I trust we shall have no need to do so in future.”
Bothchildren stood and shuffled out of the office, closing the door behind them.They walked down the corridor and up the stairs to the second floor.
In thehallway before parting and going to their rooms, Ben said, “I won’t give up. I willbe a Denchi one day.”
“Why doyou want to be a Denchi so badly?” Mailynn asked. “Since we were small, youhave trained, always striving to make yourselves worthy to be an assassin.”
“Becausethe Denchi Assassins are the only group who are capable of fighting thenorthmen. One day, I shall become a Denchi and then I will have the skill andbacking necessary to take my revenge upon them for killing my parents.
“Andwhat of you, Mai? You have always been right alongside me. I thought we wereboth going to be Denchi. After all, didn’t the northmen kill your family in araid, too?”
Mailynn’sface hardened. “They did. My hatred for the murdering swine is no less thanyours. But, in case you hadn’t noticed, the Denchi Assassins do not acceptwomen into their order readily. What chance have I to avenge my family’sdeath?”
Ben puthis hand on Mai’s shoulder. “That’s so, but sometimes they do. It could be sowith you. Let us sleep on what we should do. Perhaps the Denchi are not theanswer, after all. But mark my words, the northmen and their dragon will payfor what they have done to us and to families up and down the coast ofJongchin. I swear it!”
Mainodded, but she did not smile. The two children walked down the corridor totheir rooms. Mai opened her door and entered, but Ben paused at his door, hishand on the door handle. When he heard Mai’s door close behind her, hestraightened, turned, and headed back downstairs.
March 28, 2025
A Writer's Week #139: Writing & Selling
Hi everyone. Spring is here and the weather is starting to warm up (just a bit). Just like some animals, I am emerging from what seems like a long period of hibernation. By that I mean I have a string of book and craft shows coming up over the next few weeks, which means I'll have a chance to talk to people about my books, which is something I really enjoy.
That doesn't mean I've spent the winter snoozing away. I attended a couple of shows, and I've been working on one of my works in progress, Tales of the Dragon Islands. I'm currently at 6,700 words and have begun adding details to the plot. I think it's really shaping up nicely, but there's still a long way to go. As I may have mentioned before, it takes place3,000 or so years before Eric and the rest of the Deliverers visit the Dragon Islands in book 3, The Golden Dragon of Ang.
I have also hired Silver Dagger Book Tours to set up a monthlong blog tour. Maia has been really great. It is currently running from March 21 to April 21. There are descriptions and excerpts from each book in the Deliverers Series. I contribute seven guest blog posts in the form of character interviews with Eric, Hallo, Kate, Stig, Sharky, the Gatekeeper, and Cy & Chunk. There are also two giveaways--one to win a $20 Amazon gift card and another to win a signed copy of Sharky and the Jewel. Check out the initial stop at Silver Dagger here. It contains links to all the stops on the tour. Follow along and comment on the posts and enter the giveaways!
As for personal appearances, I've got three lined up over the next three Saturdays:
Saturday, April 12, 1:00 pm - 4:00 pm, Book & Art Fair @ The Red Barn in Durham, 352 Main Street, Durham, CT 06422
I hope to see some of you at one or more. Can't make it? Don't worry, I have a few dates scheduled for May as well. See you soon.
Peace
March 22, 2025
Emily Hurst Pritchett Interview
For a long time now, I've been planning to interview illustrator Emily Hurst Pritchett. However, being the procrastinator I am, I haven't quite got around to it. Now, I suppose the point is kind of moot as Annie's Book Stop of Worcester conducted a great video interview with her.
It's up on YouTube, but I've posted it below. The interview is really great. In it, Emily gives great insight into her creative process, her own personal taste in books and pastimes, as well as what it's like illustrating for independent authors, publishers, and what she's up to with her personal art. As you watch, you might even see a couple familiar books being flashed.
This interview was conducted last spring. At the time she was working on the illustrations and cover for As the Owl Flies, a collection of short stories and poems that I released last summer. Here is a sample of some of the wonderful work that she has done for me:
March 18, 2025
Tales of the Dragon Islands: Chapter 1
Here's the first chapter of my WIP, Tales of the Dragon Islands. Let me know what you think.
Chapter 1
Moonlight glinted off the slate tiles of the rooftops of the city. A lone figure, shrouded in black crouched low on one of them, surveying the array of buildings that stretched downhill toward the water. A slight breeze wafted up from the harbor, carrying with it the scent
of the sea.
The figure sniffed the air and gestured slightly. From out of the shadow of a chimney, another shrouded figure joined the first on the ridgeline of the roof. It also sniffed the air, then pulled the mask down from its face.
Giving a slight smile, it whispered, “Something’s afoot down by the harbor. What is it, Ben?”
The other figure shook its head and held a finger to its masked face.
“Oh come on, who’s going to hear us up here? There’s no one here but us.”
“You there!” a voice cried out. “What are you doing up here?”
Four figures in polished leather jerkins and gleaming spiked helmets clambered over the rooftops toward them.
“The Night Watch,” the one called Ben hissed. “Move!”
Together the two black figures glided away. Smaller and more agile than their pursuers, they moved with cat-like quickness, leaping from roof to roof. In seconds, they had left them far behind. Moving to the edge of a roof, they slid down the drainpipe to an alley off a little used side street.
Before they could congratulate themselves on their escape, strong hands grabbed them and locked them in a strong embrace.
A bearded guard looked them over with a smirk. “Gotcha. What was ya doin’ up on the rooftops. Don’t seem like a fit place fer kids t’ be in the middle of the night.” With a swift tug, he removed one mask, then the other, revealing the faces of a girl and boy.
“Aha, thought so. What might two orphans be doin’ leapin’ about on the rooftops?”
“Why don’t you get stuffed, Sharfo?” the boy replied. “Don’t you have more important things to do than go chasing after a couple of kids?”
The big man laughed. “I might, Benchu. However, Madame Fru sent me to find you. You are not supposed to be out so late. She is afraid for you and Mailynn. She says there is something in the air.”
Benchu waived his hand dismissively. “Aw, what does she know? She’s always getting ‘feelings’. It’s nothing.”
Sharfo pursed his lips. “Hmmm. That may be, but I have learned to pay more credence to those feelings than you. Youth is ever quick to scoff at the old, but in the end, they learn. Experience is a stern teacher.”
He and two members of the Watch escorted the two children through the darkened streets. All the while, Benchu chafed, wanting to head the way they had come, back toward the harbor. Instead, they were marched uphill, deeper into the heart of Dragon Home.
Turning down a side street they arrived in front of a large building. Its façade was somewhat worn and rundown, but not as much as the buildings closer to the harbor. The biting ocean breezes did not reach so far inland. A wide stone staircase led up to a covered portico that spanned the entire front of the building. It must have been grand once, but now it looked shabby and worn down.
Standing at the top of the stairs was a stern looking old woman. Her black hair was streaked with gray and drawn back in a bun. She wore a scarlet silk robe, embroidered with gold thread. Piercing black eyes bored into Ben and Mailynn as they walked up the stairs. She stood straight and stiff, displaying no need for the polished bamboo cane she held in her left hand. As the children approached, heads bowed, her wrinkled face showed no emotion.
“Thank you, for bringing my little birds home, Captain Sharfu,” her voice creaked, “Again.”
The captain bowed low. “It is my honor, Madame, although I must admit that it is becoming a bit tedious.”
“I understand, Captain, and I am sorry. When birds fly, sometimes their wings must be clipped.” The old woman sighed and turned to the children. “But I have been hesitating to do so with these two. I had hoped they would learn some restraint.”
Captain Sharfu snorted. “Perhaps, you should move them to a stronger cage.”
Madame Fru sighed and shook her head. “Ah well, children are not birds after all. They will follow their own path. These two will ever strive to fly, even though logic says they cannot.
“I have taken you and your men away from your duties enough for one night. Thank you again, Captain.”
Captain Sharfo bowed again. “Safeguarding children is part of our duty, Madame Fru. Once the sun sets, all citizens of Dragon Home are the responsibility of the Night Watch--even two young fledglings such as these. I am only thankful that the rest of your orphans are not as determined to fly the coop.”
He and his men bowed once more and headed back down the street. Ben watched as they were swallowed by the darkness.
He turned. Madame Fru studied them with an icy stare. “Come, youngsters. We must talk.”
March 2, 2025
A Writer's Week #138: Making My Way in the Marketplace
A lot happened in the past month. When the year started, my chief objective was to focus on marketing my books, primarily my Deliverers Series of middle grade fantasy adventures. This month, I partnered with Wendy Gay of One Digital Solutions, LLC. She designed a fantastic website that gives readers of the series some great information about the books and the characters. The best thing was that I was able to repurpose my custom domain, www.deliverers.net. Check it out and I think you'll agree that it looks really great.
So, website built, my next step is to expand my social media reach and connect with parents, teachers, and librarians. Yes. Indeed. Er, um, how am I supposed to do that, exactly? The search goes on for a person or group who can help me in this area. I have some feelers out and I hope to have an answer soon.
In the meantime, I have been securing dates for public appearances, at both author events and craft shows. Happily, dates are starting to be filled. I'm still looking for venues in late April, late June, mid July, late August, September and October.
On the writing front...things have been pretty slow. Being busy with work and marketing has meant that work on Tales of the Dragon Islands has slowed. However, I plan to get back in the writing saddle this month and write...at least a little. I'm still hoping to have the first draft finished before the end of the year with a release date in spring of 2026. We shall see.
In any event, I'll be sure to share any progress right here. Stay tuned, and check out the website if you haven't already.
Peace
February 20, 2025
Tales of the Dragon Islands: Prologue v.2
Hi all. Happy Super Sunday! Yes, the Super Bowl is today. It doesn't mean too much to me as my Dolphins are once again nowhere near being in the game. Still, it's fun to get together with friends, or family, or both, and have some food, watch the game and the commercials, and do other things during the halftime show.
This weekend, I have been doing some refurbishment of Tales of the Dragon Islands. I had rewritten a large bit of chapter 4 and deleted a chapter and a half of material once I realized I was headed in the wrong direction. That caused me to turn a critical eye to another part of the book that I was a little dissatisfied with--the prologue. So, I've rewritten it. I had posted the original here. You can check that out if you like before reading the updated version below. Let me know your thoughts in the comments section.
Jongchin, northern coast
Eleven year old Benchu and his father, Jenchu left their small sod farmhouse early in the morning. They were going out to seed their freeholding. His father had tilled their two fields yesterday, and today Benchu had been asked to help with the planting. His father had never asked him to help with such an important task. He looked out on the bleak windswept landscape. An early spring breeze sent a chill through him.
This would be the first year his father would trust him to distribute the precious seeds. He felt the weight of them in the leather bag at his side. The strap holding it dug slightly into his shoulder.
Something to the north caught his attention. A black plume was rising from the direction of the nearby coast.
“Smoke!” he yelled, pointing.
“Raiders!” his father exclaimed. “Benchu, find your mother and get her to the caves!”
“What about you?” Benchu asked.
“I must join with our neighbors to fend them off.”
Jenchu went into the house and came out with his hunting bow. “Find your mother. She was down by the creek washing clothes with the other women. Get them all to the caves!”
As he spoke, men from the village and neighboring farms appeared, heading toward the coast. They carried a ragtag collection of weapons and tools--bows, scythes, some swords. When they saw Jenchu, they all converged on the farm. He was a village councilor. It was up to him to plan a defense.
“The coast is under attack,” he said. “It’s a good bet it’s raiders from the Northland. We have to go and meet them before they push further inland. Are you with me?”
The gathered crowd nodded. A few cheered.
“All right, then let’s go. Benchu, you go and alert the women like I told you.”
Benchu nodded, and headed up the ridge toward the valley and the creek. He had almost reached the crest when he heard shouts.
Turning back, he saw a horde of men coming up from the coast. They were dressed in leather and fur. They wore steel banded helmets with a large metal spike at the top. All carried two-handed axes.
He stood there watching, unable to tear himself away. As the villagers charged to meet the raiders, he saw his father shooting arrows, felling several northmen. He felt a momentary flush of pride.
Then, a shadow rose from the smoke on the horizon. It moved swiftly toward them. The rising sun glinted on silver.
Benchu gasped. “The Silver Dragon,” he whispered.
It was the Silver Dragon of the North. Flying swiftly from the coast, it circled the battle once. Even from this distance Benchu was awestruck by the size of the great beast. The sun glinted off its silver scales. Great silver wings cast a shadow on the ground. Its sapphire eyes held a terrible hatred. The mouth was huge. It held large, curved yellow fangs and a ruby red forked tongue.
The northmen disengaged, falling back from the villagers. The dragon’s mouth opened wider and it unleashed two white blasts. The defenders, including Benchu’s father, turned to ice when the blasts engulfed them. The dragon flapped its wings, sending a hurricane-like gust that scattered Jonchu and all the other men into the air, nothing more than sparkling crystals of ice.
Benchu choked back a scream. He wanted to run back toward the dragon. He wanted to kill it. He had already taken several steps back down toward it when he remembered his mother and the others.
With a silent curse, he turned, crested the ridge, and down into the valley toward the creek.
He was halfway down the valley slope when he saw them. They were lying face down in the grass by the water, arms and legs twisted at unnatural angles. The green grass was stained red. Northmen stood over them. Sitting some way off to the side were children. They were bound and being guarded by more of the raiders. Most of the boys and girls he recognized as being from his village. He could see no adults alive.
Before he could think or say anything, the sun was blotted out by a large shadow. Looking up, he saw the silver dragon. It had flown up over the ridge and was now soaring down into the valley. It was headed directly toward him.
Giving a small cry, he ran down the slope. His one thought was to outrun the dragon long enough to take at least one of the raiders out before he was killed. Sliding the seed pouch off his shoulder, he swung it above his head like a sling as he ran.
He never reached the northmen. Another shadow swooped toward him from the opposite direction.
In amazement, he skidded to a stop as a large, golden dragon appeared upstream, further down the valley. Flying out of the sun it came, the light glinting its golden scales like fire.
“The Golden Dragon of Ang,” Benchu murmured.
Flame, shot from the dragon’s mouth, incinerating some of the northmen and putting the rest to flight, leaving the children behind.
The silver dragon gave a shriek of rage and rose to meet its foe. The two collided in the air above Benchu, fire meeting ice. Both air and earth trembled with the collision. Benchu was knocked off his feet. His head hit something hard and he knew no more.
January 8, 2025
Quirk: Chapter 3
Here is the third chapter from my teen fantasy WIP. Thoughts?
Can three ever be company?
We traveled throughthe night, trying to put as much distance as possible between us and ourcaptors. Finally, as dawn was breaking above the hills, we came upon a cave inthe pass we were trekking through. We all headed for it without a word.
Once inside, weslumped to the dirt floor. Lying back against the cold, hard rock of the cavewall, I breathed a sigh of relief. At least we’d been able to find someshelter.
“I suppose we shouldgather some firewood and build a fire,” I said.
Hugo nodded. “Uh,huh. I’m hungry.”
“Mmm, yes. We’ll needto hunt up some grub, agreed, but I’m not inclined to go out hunting while theCratt soldiers are anywhere about.”
Hugo nodded glumlyand slumped back against the wall next to me.
All this time ourcranky companion had been staring at me. Her hazel eyes were boring into me asif she were trying to peer into my very soul. It was just a touch unnerving.
“Look, I don’t wantto be rude, but why the hell are you staring at me like that?”
“How did you do it?”she barked.
“Do what?” I asked.
“Release us from ourchains.”
“Oh, well, it’s nogreat thing, really. I’ve always had a gift for, er, extricating myself fromsituations like that.”
“Lightning sprangfrom your finger. Don’t deny it! Are you a sorcerer?”
I laughed at that.“Sorcerer? Hardly. It’s just when the need is great, I’ve found that I can comeup with ways to help myself. It’s purely self-preservation.”
She looked at medoubtfully.
“Look, who are you? Idon’t know you. You’ve been cranky and bad-tempered this whole time, and youdemanded to come with us. What is your name, and where are you from?”
“I am Rosetta. I wasa soldier in the Cratt army,” she said with a somewhat defiant look.
Hugo gave a hugelaugh. “You, a soldier? Your chest’s too big and your muscles too small.”
The words were barelyout of his mouth before Rosetta had leaped across the cave and had him in aheadlock. I really think she would have throttled the lad if cooler heads(mine) hadn’t prevailed.
“Well, Rosetta, noneed to do away with a third of our fighting force. I think it’s fairly obviousthat you’re quite a talented and, uh, unusual warrior. Isn’t she Hugo?”
Poor Hugo barely hadany breath left with which to speak, but thankfully he had the wits to nod hishead as vigorously as he could.
With a grunt, Rosettareleased her hold. “Forgive my anger, but your reaction is all I’ve heard sincemy enlistment.”
Hugo sat back againstthe wall, rubbing his neck. “I’m sorry. I just never seen a woman warrior.You’re tough though. What were you doin’ in the cage with the prisoners?”
“Yeah, that’s a goodquestion,” I said. “What were you doing in that cage?”
“A couple of my tentmates were trying to be more than friendly. After I disabled them, they went toour captain with a tale that I had tried to kill them in their sleep,” Rosettasaid.
I nodded and rubbedmy neck. Judging from personal experience, I could see how her accusers’ storywould be believable. “So, what does Cratt hope to gain by raiding my country’sneighboring villages?”
“The Cratt governmentis under a lot of stress at the moment. I think the raids are a means ofdiverting the attention of the masses away from the capital,” Rosetta replied.
“I guess thatwouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened,” I said. “So wheredo you fall in all this? Do you support your government’s initiative?”
I noticed that Hugohad straightened up a little bit and was watching our companion curiously.
“As a soldier, I hadno opinion one way or the other.” Her eyes hardened. “But butchering helplessvillagers is not honorable.”
“Good, so I guesswe’re more or less on the same page then. The question is what to do now? TheCratts might just forget about us. After all, three people in the wilderness isnot really much of a threat to their national security. Still, we don’t wantour paths crossing.”
“Maybe we should gohome,” Hugo suggested.
“There isn’t any‘home’ to go back to. The Cratts leveled everything, remember?”
Hugo sighed. “Ohyeah. I forgot. It doesn’t seem like it really happened.”
I nodded. “Yeah, Iget that. So again, I’m asking. What should we do? Rosetta, we’re in yourterritory now. What do you think?”
“Our garrison isbilleted at the foot of the mountains. My unit will be making for that, so Iguess we better head farther west.”
Hugo nodded, and Ishrugged. One direction was as good as another to me, as long as it took usaway from our marauding friends.
“What’s that way?” Iasked.
Rosetta shrugged.“The Forbidden Lands.”
“Huh?” Hugo asked,looking slightly alarmed.
“You said it, Hugo.What the heck are the Forbidden Lands?”
“Nobody really knows.Its history is shrouded in myth and legend. Some say it’s a land of shamans whowield a deadly black magic. Others say fell beasts and monsters inhabit theforests there, and that they guard mystical truths.”
“Mystical truths?” Iasked. “Like what?”
“How to find the pathof wisdom and the secret of eternal life.”
“Wow,” Hugo said. “IfI could live forever, could I maybe learn to be wise, Quirk?”
“Um…I think you’dhave to live a long time, so maybe eternal life could get you there,” Iadmitted. “So why is this land forbidden? I get that shamans and black magicand all could be a little off-putting, but if there’s a chance to gain eternallife, well, why not check it out? Is that why you want to head over there?”
Rosetta shook herhead. “No, but where else can we go that we won’t be hunted? Not to the east, themost heavily populated area of the Cratt kingdom. Not back across the mountainsto your land—the Cratts patrol every pass, and your folk have border patrols aswell. Where else then but west to the Forbidden Lands?”
I rubbed my chin. Shehad me there. We didn’t seem to have many options.
“How do we getthere?” Hugo asked. It seemed he had made up his mind at any rate.
“First, we have toget out of the mountains and head west. Then, we have to get past the wall.”
“Wall? Your peoplebuilt a wall to keep people out of the Forbidden Lands? How are we supposed toget past it?” I asked.
“We did not buildit,” Rosetta said. “The shamans built it to keep us out.”
“Hmmm, that brings tomind a couple of questions, the first of which is that maybe Splendaria shoulddo the same to keep the Cratts out. Seems many people, even evil shaman andfell, magical beasts have little use for your people.”
Rosetta frowned. “Awall alone would not keep the Cratts out. It is said to be protected by magicalspells and wards. It cannot be climbed over and cannot be tunneled under.”
Hugo shook his head.“So why are we even tryin’ t’ go? Don’t sound like there’s much chance ofgettin’ in.”
“There’s a door,”Rosetta said.
“A door? Is that it?”I asked. I doubted very much it would be as easy as walking through a door.
“The door is locked.The lock is guarded by many magical spells, or so it is said.”
“So, what makes youthink trying to get through the door would be any less impossible than tryingto go over or under?” I asked.
“It’s the only placewe can go to evade capture by the Cratts.”
I shook my head.“Yeah, but it sounds like our chances of getting into this Forbidden Land arenext to zilch. We’d need a way to get through the lock.”
Rosetta gave a slylook. “True, but I saw you get through several locks as easy as can be.”
“Those were regular,run of the mill padlocks, unguarded by any kind of magic. I don’t have the powerto get through a magic lock.”
“I’m guessing youdo,” Rosetta retorted. “I think you possess more power in you than you let on,or than perhaps you know. One zap from your finger and those locks were fried.I’ve never seen anyone else with anything close to a skill like that. Hugo, haveyou?”
Hugo scratched hishead. “Have I what?”
Rosetta rolled hereyes. “Have you seen anyone who can shoot lightening out of his fingers?”
“No, no. Have you?”
“Yes, our friendQuirk here did it to release us from our chains.”
“Oh, I was asleepwhen he done it. Hey, Quirk, I didn’t know you could shoot lightning from yourfinger. That would be a good trick t’ play on the Cratts. They’d leave us alonefor sure then.”
I shook my head.“That’s the only ‘power’ I have, if that’s what it is. I’ve only ever been ableto do it with locks. I don’t know if I can do it for anything else.”
“Aha, you don’t knowfor sure!” Rosetta said, an ‘I told you so’ look on her face. “You’ve nevertried, I bet. For all we know you could be a great shaman yourself.”
“Okay, okay, hold onthere. Simmer down a bit. I think you’re getting a little bit ahead ofyourself. I’m no shaman. I’ve spent my whole life drifting from place to place.My parents either abandoned me, or were killed, depending on who you talk to. Iwas too young to remember.”
Hugo scratched hishead. “Um, so that means you could be anyone, don’t it?”
January 2, 2025
A Writer's Week #136: New Year is Here, Time to Get Down to Business
Well, 2025 is here, 2024 is--literally--history. I hope you had a great Christmas/holiday and New Year celebration with family and friends. I sure did. This year, we went up to my brother's house in Vermont. Almost the entire side of my family was there--may parents and four out of five of the "kids" and their significant others and children. Needless to say, it was a very fun time.
Once I returned home, I got down to work. No, I did not do any writing. That will come as we move a little further into the new year. No, I have several author goals for the coming year. Before I outline those, I'll give you a quick review of my goals for the past couple of years.
In 2023, I began a search for an illustrator with a view toward updating the covers, maps, and chapter illustrations of my three existing books. I was lucky enough to partner with Emily Hurst Pritchett. She updated the art for the first three books in the Deliverers Series. My other main goal was to resume writing book four in the series and complete it before the end of 2023. I was successful with that as well, and Emily began work on the cover and interior art before the end of the year.
In 2024, my goal was to publish book four and the collection of short stories and poems that had been kicking around for more than a couple decades. Again, I was able to accomplish this with the help of Emily who provided the finished book four illustrations and map as well as the short story collection cover and 12 illustrations, one for each story. My wife, Stephanie Shaughnessy, did four watercolors to illustrate the poems. I even produced an audio book for As the Owl Flies, partnering with narrator Lena Hibala. In addition, I was able to ramp up the number of books signings, author events, and craft shows that I attended--16 in all.
My goal for the coming year is to complete the first draft of at least one of my two works in progress--Quirk, a 1st person teen fantasy, and Tales of the Dragon Islands, a middle grade fantasy/adventure. I am also currently searching for someone to help me with my social media marketing platform. I've muddled along for many years on my own, but I just don't have the knowledge and talent for it. I've got a couple of irons in the fire, and we'll see where that leads. I need to get the word out.
I also made the decision that I have to start running this enterprise more like a business than a hobby. To me, it was never a hobby, but I was handling it like one--paying for art, audio, stock and marketing materials with my personal funds, and mingling all my book income in my personal bank accounts. That made it hard to figure out my income and expenses. So, I registered White Owl Manuscripts as a trade name, and I've opened an account under that name to run all income and expenses through that dedicated account.
Essentially, the past two years have been one long startup period. I've been operating at a loss, which was fine because I needed to revamp things and add to my published titles after my long layoff. Now, everything is in place, so it's time to raise awareness and move toward profitability.
I am profoundly grateful to you for accompanying me on this journey and for your unflagging support. I am looking forward to bringing you more tales and adventures in the coming years. I'll keep you updated on how it's going.
Peace
December 28, 2024
A Writer's Weeks #135: 2024--Looking Back & Looking Ahead
As 2024 winds down, I wanted to take a minute to thank all of you for helping make the year so successful for me. It's really been a remarkable year as I look back on it.
First of all, I released two books, something I've never done before. Now, granted, both books took a long time to write, but completing them and laying them out and working with the talented Emily Hurst Pritchett on the substantial artwork for them took only about nine months. In February, The Deliverers Book 4: Sparkling Mist of Time was released. As the Owl Flies, Uplifting Stories and Poems came out in July.
I now had five books, and I hit the road with them. I took part in 16 author signings and craft shows, which I think is the most I've ever done in a year. From a sale viewpoint, a handful were truly outstanding, and there were a handful of clunkers. But no matter how successful they were saleswise, all were valuable, informative, and fun. I really love meeting people and talking with them about my writing and books in general. I love meeting fellow authors, comparing notes and sharing ideas. It's one of my favorite things about being an author.
The Deliverers, Book 1: Sharky and the Jewel won an award, the 2024 Golden Wizard. I also had the pleasure of working with Lena Hibala on the audio book version of As the Owl Flies. She certainly brought the stories and poems alive with her outstanding storytelling!
Yes, it's certainly been a wonderful year, and again, I'd like to thank all of you for help making it possible. So, what will 2025 bring? I have a couple things that I will focus on, but I'll save that information for my first Writer's Week post of the new year. Until then, may you all have a great holiday season, and a safe, healthy, and prosperous New Year!
Peace
