R.E. Sheahan's Blog, page 2
October 10, 2012
More Back-Story Wednesday
Just a little reminder. In this version, Erynn is already a pilot with a rank of Captain. She is on a combat-training flight with her squadron and is about to have her first encounter with the Anim Blath.
Passing out right now would not be good. The prospect could only be disastrous at this speed fifteen hundred meters above the ground. She needed to maintain her distance from cavern walls, the five other Interceptor fighters occupying this air space, and the ground.
Pinpoints of bright purple, green, and blue flashing lights swarmed at the edge of Captain Erynn Yager’s vision. A high-pitched tinkling like breaking glass accompanied the light show threatening to engulf her view beyond the helmet’s tinted visor. Her pulse jumped. The breath she tried to pull into her lungs caught in her constricted throat.
Is this what it’s like to lose consciousness? Definitely not good.
She reached down to the left side of her seat and flipped a switch increasing the oxygen mix coming through her mask.
The discordant chimes receded along with the roar of the Interceptor’s powerful twin engines. A deep silence enveloped her. The sparkling points of colored light faded. Outside the canopy of her Interceptor fighter the scene blurred. Shapes and colors melted and bled together forming an amorphous backdrop.
Panic clawed at Erynn’s mind demanding entrance. Her pounding heart slammed against her ribs. The indistinguishable view sharpened into a garish clarity. But the scene no longer showed what it had a quick heartbeat before.
The airfield below her wavered in a heat mirage as hungry orange flames leapt from burning buildings. Explosions followed. Immense gaseous spheres of brilliant orange rose through thick black smoke. Alien ships attacked, filling the sky with white-hot laser blasts.
Chaos and destruction hit Erynn like a solid punch to the gut. She clutched the fighter’s controls to steady her shaking hands.
It’s not real. It’s not real. It. Is. Not. Real.
A loud pop echoed in the cockpit. Erynn squeezed her eyes shut then opened them. The vision of devastation vanished along with the alien aircraft. The familiar roar of her fighter returned. She reminded herself to breathe and inhaled, forcing needed air through resistant muscles. A sweet spicy aroma blended with the cool sterile scent of oxygen pumping into the mask that covered her nose and mouth. Erynn frowned.
A sweet spicy scent? Olfactory visions? That never happened before.
Erynn worked to slow her respirations and calm her sprinting heart. “That was a strong one.” Chilled fingers walked up the bone latticework of her spine.
Recent images of destruction were occurring with greater frequency and increased strength. These unsettling events were difficult to dismiss let alone ignore. Unlike her premonitions, the insights that gave Erynn the edge to excel, these visions scared the daheln out of her.
Is this the future or nothing more than an overactive imagination?
Erynn shook her head to dispel the notion of premonition.
Imagination. Nothing will happen. It’s impossible.
She was in her fighter on an air combat exercise. Erynn pushed her unease aside along with the unpleasant images. This wasn’t the time to examine a . . . Prophecy?
No. Not a prophecy. But if not a forewarning—
“What the . . .!” Erynn barked. Distracted, she sensed energy rushing forward too close to evade now.
The bolt hit the right rear section of her Interceptor knocking the fighter to the left. The wing dropped. The body of the aircraft shuddered.
Her helmet bounced off the clear canopy. She winced at the sharp stab of pain that flashed across the side of her head.
Get it together.
“This is all I need,” she whispered. Her father would question her lapse in concentration. He would want to know why she allowed her guard to drop.
Not good.
Erynn didn’t want to tell him about the visions, the gaps in reality. There would be . . . consequences.
Passing out right now would not be good. The prospect could only be disastrous at this speed fifteen hundred meters above the ground. She needed to maintain her distance from cavern walls, the five other Interceptor fighters occupying this air space, and the ground.
Pinpoints of bright purple, green, and blue flashing lights swarmed at the edge of Captain Erynn Yager’s vision. A high-pitched tinkling like breaking glass accompanied the light show threatening to engulf her view beyond the helmet’s tinted visor. Her pulse jumped. The breath she tried to pull into her lungs caught in her constricted throat.
Is this what it’s like to lose consciousness? Definitely not good.
She reached down to the left side of her seat and flipped a switch increasing the oxygen mix coming through her mask.
The discordant chimes receded along with the roar of the Interceptor’s powerful twin engines. A deep silence enveloped her. The sparkling points of colored light faded. Outside the canopy of her Interceptor fighter the scene blurred. Shapes and colors melted and bled together forming an amorphous backdrop.
Panic clawed at Erynn’s mind demanding entrance. Her pounding heart slammed against her ribs. The indistinguishable view sharpened into a garish clarity. But the scene no longer showed what it had a quick heartbeat before.
The airfield below her wavered in a heat mirage as hungry orange flames leapt from burning buildings. Explosions followed. Immense gaseous spheres of brilliant orange rose through thick black smoke. Alien ships attacked, filling the sky with white-hot laser blasts.
Chaos and destruction hit Erynn like a solid punch to the gut. She clutched the fighter’s controls to steady her shaking hands.
It’s not real. It’s not real. It. Is. Not. Real.
A loud pop echoed in the cockpit. Erynn squeezed her eyes shut then opened them. The vision of devastation vanished along with the alien aircraft. The familiar roar of her fighter returned. She reminded herself to breathe and inhaled, forcing needed air through resistant muscles. A sweet spicy aroma blended with the cool sterile scent of oxygen pumping into the mask that covered her nose and mouth. Erynn frowned.
A sweet spicy scent? Olfactory visions? That never happened before.
Erynn worked to slow her respirations and calm her sprinting heart. “That was a strong one.” Chilled fingers walked up the bone latticework of her spine.
Recent images of destruction were occurring with greater frequency and increased strength. These unsettling events were difficult to dismiss let alone ignore. Unlike her premonitions, the insights that gave Erynn the edge to excel, these visions scared the daheln out of her.
Is this the future or nothing more than an overactive imagination?
Erynn shook her head to dispel the notion of premonition.
Imagination. Nothing will happen. It’s impossible.
She was in her fighter on an air combat exercise. Erynn pushed her unease aside along with the unpleasant images. This wasn’t the time to examine a . . . Prophecy?
No. Not a prophecy. But if not a forewarning—
“What the . . .!” Erynn barked. Distracted, she sensed energy rushing forward too close to evade now.
The bolt hit the right rear section of her Interceptor knocking the fighter to the left. The wing dropped. The body of the aircraft shuddered.
Her helmet bounced off the clear canopy. She winced at the sharp stab of pain that flashed across the side of her head.
Get it together.
“This is all I need,” she whispered. Her father would question her lapse in concentration. He would want to know why she allowed her guard to drop.
Not good.
Erynn didn’t want to tell him about the visions, the gaps in reality. There would be . . . consequences.
October 3, 2012
Back-Story Wednesday
Whew! Thought I was going to miss it! Busy day.
Cale has some explaining to do so I’ll get right to it.
The door to the control room slid shut with a soft hum. Cale stood up and approached Erynn.
She slowed and stopped in front of him, her gaze searching his face. “You don’t look so good. Are you alright?”
Cale waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m fine. But we do need to talk. I had hoped to wait until we were on Arranon to give you more details, but there’s something you should know, now.” He paused, uncertain where to begin.
Erynn’s gaze drifted from him. She stared up at the hangar’s tall white ceiling. “Did the lights go out in here, just now?” Before he could respond, she continued to survey the area and stated, “If they did, the problem needs to be reported to maintenance.” Wrinkling her nose she asked, “What is that sweet, spicy— Her chin dropped, eyes wide. Erynn’s sharp intake of breath revealed a sudden recognition.
“You can smell the Anim Blath’s scent?” Cale asked and his brow furrowed.
Could it be possible?
Erynn studied him, nodded, and asked in a quiet voice, “What is Anim Blath?”
Cale straightened, his previous strength returning. “That’s something that would be easier to show you once we’re safely on Arranon.”
“Safely on Arranon. What does that mean?” Erynn frowned.
Cale leaned in to her, and just in case their conversation was monitored, he whispered, “I’ve just received a message from Arranon, a warning. We’ll need to be careful.”
Erynn’s frown deepened. The tense fisting of her hands resumed. She glanced around, then back to Cale. “You received a message? How? When?”
How much information is too much? What will she be able to grasp?
“Hmmm. Well, just now, here, while you were in the control room. The how, well that may be difficult to explain.”
“Try,” she snapped, her eyes narrowing.
Cale stiffened and glared at her. The hard edge in his tone more pronounced than he intended. “Explain to me how you were able to avoid my laser fire for so long during our exercise. Tell me how you’ve advanced so far above others your age and are the youngest squadron leader in the history of our worlds.”
Erynn’s façade of irritation and doubt crumbled. “Where did the flashing lights go? The bright purple, blue and green lights? The ones that turned orange and red with fear and concern?” Her clear blue eyes were wide.
She has witnessed the Anim Blath before.
“You saw them?” Cale asked, excitement in his voice.
She stared boldly into his eyes. “Yes, and I heard music too, like breaking glass, a tinkling, but not random. There was an organized pattern with intent. What is it, what does it mean?”
How extraordinary and how amazing she’ll become. What will happen once she’s on Arranon?
“Did you hear the message?”
Erynn moved a step away from Cale her voice a loud whisper. “No. It was more musical notes than words. Like distant singing or chanting. If I were you, I wouldn’t go around advertising you receive messages from Arranon by way of Leannan lights.”
Cale shrugged, his brow furrowing. “Leannan lights?”
“Leannan, tiny, colorful winged beings that live hidden in forests and mountain meadows, in children’s stories,” Erynn said as a quick explanation.
Cale shook his head and countered. “It’s not like that.”
Stepping closer to Cale, Erynn asked, “Can you bring them back? I want to hear them again. Maybe this time I will understand.”
“Perhaps, but they delivered the message they came all this way to convey. I’m sure it exhausted much of their energy.” He marveled at her resilience and curiosity.
She bit at her lower lip, a nervous gesture. “Why did they come? It must have been important.”
She’s uneasy, and she should be.
He stared across the hangar. “They told me of an awakening evil. We’ll need to be careful. I believe my coming here has put you in danger.”
“And I believe that was going to happen with or without your coming to Korin. It’s better now, with your messages from the Leannan,” she whispered in an even tone.
She has glimpsed our uncertain future.
“I thought there would be time to get you to Arranon. To show you what your father, Zander, had discovered. I should have foreseen this possible threat. I—” He shook his head. The muscles in his jaw tightened, locking away a truth she needed to hear.
Don’t tell her. Not yet. She’s not ready.
Cale has some explaining to do so I’ll get right to it.
The door to the control room slid shut with a soft hum. Cale stood up and approached Erynn.
She slowed and stopped in front of him, her gaze searching his face. “You don’t look so good. Are you alright?”
Cale waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m fine. But we do need to talk. I had hoped to wait until we were on Arranon to give you more details, but there’s something you should know, now.” He paused, uncertain where to begin.
Erynn’s gaze drifted from him. She stared up at the hangar’s tall white ceiling. “Did the lights go out in here, just now?” Before he could respond, she continued to survey the area and stated, “If they did, the problem needs to be reported to maintenance.” Wrinkling her nose she asked, “What is that sweet, spicy— Her chin dropped, eyes wide. Erynn’s sharp intake of breath revealed a sudden recognition.
“You can smell the Anim Blath’s scent?” Cale asked and his brow furrowed.
Could it be possible?
Erynn studied him, nodded, and asked in a quiet voice, “What is Anim Blath?”
Cale straightened, his previous strength returning. “That’s something that would be easier to show you once we’re safely on Arranon.”
“Safely on Arranon. What does that mean?” Erynn frowned.
Cale leaned in to her, and just in case their conversation was monitored, he whispered, “I’ve just received a message from Arranon, a warning. We’ll need to be careful.”
Erynn’s frown deepened. The tense fisting of her hands resumed. She glanced around, then back to Cale. “You received a message? How? When?”
How much information is too much? What will she be able to grasp?
“Hmmm. Well, just now, here, while you were in the control room. The how, well that may be difficult to explain.”
“Try,” she snapped, her eyes narrowing.
Cale stiffened and glared at her. The hard edge in his tone more pronounced than he intended. “Explain to me how you were able to avoid my laser fire for so long during our exercise. Tell me how you’ve advanced so far above others your age and are the youngest squadron leader in the history of our worlds.”
Erynn’s façade of irritation and doubt crumbled. “Where did the flashing lights go? The bright purple, blue and green lights? The ones that turned orange and red with fear and concern?” Her clear blue eyes were wide.
She has witnessed the Anim Blath before.
“You saw them?” Cale asked, excitement in his voice.
She stared boldly into his eyes. “Yes, and I heard music too, like breaking glass, a tinkling, but not random. There was an organized pattern with intent. What is it, what does it mean?”
How extraordinary and how amazing she’ll become. What will happen once she’s on Arranon?
“Did you hear the message?”
Erynn moved a step away from Cale her voice a loud whisper. “No. It was more musical notes than words. Like distant singing or chanting. If I were you, I wouldn’t go around advertising you receive messages from Arranon by way of Leannan lights.”
Cale shrugged, his brow furrowing. “Leannan lights?”
“Leannan, tiny, colorful winged beings that live hidden in forests and mountain meadows, in children’s stories,” Erynn said as a quick explanation.
Cale shook his head and countered. “It’s not like that.”
Stepping closer to Cale, Erynn asked, “Can you bring them back? I want to hear them again. Maybe this time I will understand.”
“Perhaps, but they delivered the message they came all this way to convey. I’m sure it exhausted much of their energy.” He marveled at her resilience and curiosity.
She bit at her lower lip, a nervous gesture. “Why did they come? It must have been important.”
She’s uneasy, and she should be.
He stared across the hangar. “They told me of an awakening evil. We’ll need to be careful. I believe my coming here has put you in danger.”
“And I believe that was going to happen with or without your coming to Korin. It’s better now, with your messages from the Leannan,” she whispered in an even tone.
She has glimpsed our uncertain future.
“I thought there would be time to get you to Arranon. To show you what your father, Zander, had discovered. I should have foreseen this possible threat. I—” He shook his head. The muscles in his jaw tightened, locking away a truth she needed to hear.
Don’t tell her. Not yet. She’s not ready.
September 26, 2012
Back-Story Wednesday
In a previous draft of
Storm of Arranon
, titled Children of Arranon at the time, Erynn was already a pilot, not a cadet. I had more meetings between Cale and Erynn before she was taken from Korin to Arranon as Birk’s hostage. Here is a bit of one of their interactions. Erynn has just learned more about her father, Zander, and she has agreed to go to Arranon, to be trained on how to fully develop her extraordinary abilities.
Erynn remained quiet as they returned to the base.
Cale assumed she was thinking about all he had told her. There was much for her to process.
“I need to make a detour by the hangar. It won’t take long,” Erynn blurted, biting at her lower lip.
He studied the intensity in her expression.
She senses something.
“Sure, need to tuck your fighter in for the night?” Cale asked, curious, but not pressing her to explain.
“Yes. Okay. Check on my fighter,” Erynn replied vaguely, her attention elsewhere. Her clenched hands lay in her lap. Glancing in Cale’s direction, she gave him a weak grin.
Cale returned her smile. This was the first positive response he’d received from Erynn. Maybe he could be more than just an annoyance to her, a flagrant reminder of a secret she had so far painstakingly kept hidden. His intent in coming to Korin remained unchanged, to help Erynn realize her potential, for the benefit of both their worlds.
***
Cale and Erynn’s footsteps echoed inside the enclosed hangar, making the space seem cavernous. The area was bright, silent, the space cool, sterile, and still. Six gleaming white Interceptor fighters stood with deadly assurance in the glare of the brilliant overhead lighting.
Cale hung back as Erynn entered the darkened control room to talk with the on-duty personnel. His vision swirled, the hangar seemed to spin around him, and the glaring brightness dimmed. Cale closed his eyes and waited for what he knew was coming. He had wondered if being away from Arranon these episodes would cease.
Well, I have my answer. It’s apparent the Anim Blath can still reach me, even here on Korin.
He opened his eyes as pinpoints of blue, green and purple firelight sparkled before him. A sweet, spicy fragrance filled the air. The colors changed to fiery reds and oranges. Urgent, high-pitched voices sang a forewarning through his mind. Their fear was avid and palpable as they repeated the crucial message.
“I understand,” he whispered. With a sudden pop, the voices ceased, the hangar’s harsh glare returned, the sparkling flash of firelight disappeared, and the sweet scent faded. The spinning sensation remained though, and Cale went to one of the steps next to an Interceptor to sit down. The incident had left him unsteady and apprehensive. He would need to proceed with care, in particular with Erynn.
Someone, or something, had detected her presence and recognized her potential.
So, do you think Cale will tell Erynn what the message from the Anim Blath revealed? Check back next Wednesday to find out.
http://stormofarranon.com
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/...
http://www.facebook.com/AuthorRobynn
https://twitter.com/#!/RESheahan
http://www.ruleofthreepress.com/
Erynn remained quiet as they returned to the base.
Cale assumed she was thinking about all he had told her. There was much for her to process.
“I need to make a detour by the hangar. It won’t take long,” Erynn blurted, biting at her lower lip.
He studied the intensity in her expression.
She senses something.
“Sure, need to tuck your fighter in for the night?” Cale asked, curious, but not pressing her to explain.
“Yes. Okay. Check on my fighter,” Erynn replied vaguely, her attention elsewhere. Her clenched hands lay in her lap. Glancing in Cale’s direction, she gave him a weak grin.
Cale returned her smile. This was the first positive response he’d received from Erynn. Maybe he could be more than just an annoyance to her, a flagrant reminder of a secret she had so far painstakingly kept hidden. His intent in coming to Korin remained unchanged, to help Erynn realize her potential, for the benefit of both their worlds.
***
Cale and Erynn’s footsteps echoed inside the enclosed hangar, making the space seem cavernous. The area was bright, silent, the space cool, sterile, and still. Six gleaming white Interceptor fighters stood with deadly assurance in the glare of the brilliant overhead lighting.
Cale hung back as Erynn entered the darkened control room to talk with the on-duty personnel. His vision swirled, the hangar seemed to spin around him, and the glaring brightness dimmed. Cale closed his eyes and waited for what he knew was coming. He had wondered if being away from Arranon these episodes would cease.
Well, I have my answer. It’s apparent the Anim Blath can still reach me, even here on Korin.
He opened his eyes as pinpoints of blue, green and purple firelight sparkled before him. A sweet, spicy fragrance filled the air. The colors changed to fiery reds and oranges. Urgent, high-pitched voices sang a forewarning through his mind. Their fear was avid and palpable as they repeated the crucial message.
“I understand,” he whispered. With a sudden pop, the voices ceased, the hangar’s harsh glare returned, the sparkling flash of firelight disappeared, and the sweet scent faded. The spinning sensation remained though, and Cale went to one of the steps next to an Interceptor to sit down. The incident had left him unsteady and apprehensive. He would need to proceed with care, in particular with Erynn.
Someone, or something, had detected her presence and recognized her potential.
So, do you think Cale will tell Erynn what the message from the Anim Blath revealed? Check back next Wednesday to find out.
http://stormofarranon.com
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/...
http://www.facebook.com/AuthorRobynn
https://twitter.com/#!/RESheahan
http://www.ruleofthreepress.com/
September 19, 2012
Back-Story Wednesday
Busy morning getting several books sent off to reviewers! Yes!
Okay, so now, as promised I officially begin Back-Story Wednesday!
Erynn heard the muffled scrape, thump of the door open, then close in the foyer downstairs. She moaned and regretted her decision to proceed with this meeting.
Is it still possible to call it off, and avoid the imminent ruin?
Erynn gazed into the mirror over her dresser. She longed for the sense of security a uniform would provide. To pull a cover over neat braids. Instead, long, deep red hair fell in uncontrolled glossy curls around her face, over her shoulders, and down her back.
This will have to do. I’m out of time.
Turning to the closet, she grabbed a pair of dark green pants made from a heavy material and a soft, white sweater. She pulled the sweater over her head and blew curls out of her eyes. She climbed into the pants while hopping back to the closet for boots. Pulling them on with a grunt, she straightened and swung toward the mirror. Erynn groaned, dismayed by what she saw. “This is all wrong.” She backed to the closet, resigned to wearing a uniform.
I don’t care what my father might say or the whispered talk the uniform will garner at the restaurant.
Radiance from a bedside lamp seeped around her and cast a faint glow into the shadows resting peacefully in the closet. From the left corner of the enclosed space, a soft sparkle revealed in the pale light caught her gaze. A deep black, long sleeve made from a velvety material with an iridescent silver thread running through the weave hung at the end of the press of clothing. Erynn pushed the other clothes aside and uncovered a dark, but oddly shimmering one-piece pantsuit. The tailored garment had a high collar and fitted sleeves with a gathered pant hem. She tipped her head, studying the stunning outfit.
Where did this come from? Appropriate for a meeting in an expensive restaurant with a foreign ambassador though.
Erynn pulled the pantsuit from the closet and ran her hand over the incredibly soft fabric. The low tones of conversation rose up to her from the room below. She hurried and re-dressed.
Erynn spun and gasped at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. The effect of the black material woven with the fine silver thread brought out the pale blue of Erynn’s eyes, the deep red of her hair, and her fair complexion. Erynn finished the ensemble with matching shiny black shoes she found below where the outfit had hung. She took one last glance, bit her lower lip, and sighed. Uncomfortable being this elegantly dressed, she smoothed the soft material with damp palms and turned to leave.
I have no choice. I’m out of options, and out of time.
Erynn left her room feeling self-conscious and completely removed from her comfort zone mumbling, “I should have just worn the uniform.”
Okay, so now, as promised I officially begin Back-Story Wednesday!
Erynn heard the muffled scrape, thump of the door open, then close in the foyer downstairs. She moaned and regretted her decision to proceed with this meeting.
Is it still possible to call it off, and avoid the imminent ruin?
Erynn gazed into the mirror over her dresser. She longed for the sense of security a uniform would provide. To pull a cover over neat braids. Instead, long, deep red hair fell in uncontrolled glossy curls around her face, over her shoulders, and down her back.
This will have to do. I’m out of time.
Turning to the closet, she grabbed a pair of dark green pants made from a heavy material and a soft, white sweater. She pulled the sweater over her head and blew curls out of her eyes. She climbed into the pants while hopping back to the closet for boots. Pulling them on with a grunt, she straightened and swung toward the mirror. Erynn groaned, dismayed by what she saw. “This is all wrong.” She backed to the closet, resigned to wearing a uniform.
I don’t care what my father might say or the whispered talk the uniform will garner at the restaurant.
Radiance from a bedside lamp seeped around her and cast a faint glow into the shadows resting peacefully in the closet. From the left corner of the enclosed space, a soft sparkle revealed in the pale light caught her gaze. A deep black, long sleeve made from a velvety material with an iridescent silver thread running through the weave hung at the end of the press of clothing. Erynn pushed the other clothes aside and uncovered a dark, but oddly shimmering one-piece pantsuit. The tailored garment had a high collar and fitted sleeves with a gathered pant hem. She tipped her head, studying the stunning outfit.
Where did this come from? Appropriate for a meeting in an expensive restaurant with a foreign ambassador though.
Erynn pulled the pantsuit from the closet and ran her hand over the incredibly soft fabric. The low tones of conversation rose up to her from the room below. She hurried and re-dressed.
Erynn spun and gasped at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. The effect of the black material woven with the fine silver thread brought out the pale blue of Erynn’s eyes, the deep red of her hair, and her fair complexion. Erynn finished the ensemble with matching shiny black shoes she found below where the outfit had hung. She took one last glance, bit her lower lip, and sighed. Uncomfortable being this elegantly dressed, she smoothed the soft material with damp palms and turned to leave.
I have no choice. I’m out of options, and out of time.
Erynn left her room feeling self-conscious and completely removed from her comfort zone mumbling, “I should have just worn the uniform.”
September 17, 2012
Back-Story Wednesday
When a reader picks up a book and begins an adventure with characters in worlds real or imaginary, they usually never see the pages of back-story not included, or scenes cut because they just didn’t fit, flow, or move the plot forward.
With Storm of Arranon, I wrote over 80,000 words on people, places, passions, situations, and motivations necessary for me, but not for the finished book. These are good words and great stories. Every page gives insight into my characters and their worlds. Yet they sit quietly inside my computer, destined for obscurity.
Until now.
I received a suggestion from a reader wanting more. Woo Hoo!
Okay, back to the suggestion. Make these deleted excerpts a blog, like back-story Wednesday or something. Let readers get a history that is a bit more personal and detailed.
Cool! I’ll do it!
Sooooo, here is my first excerpt. I know, it’s not Wednesday. I’ll do another this week and officially start back-story Wednesday.
Erynn—
Erynn stood before her open closet and reached for a uniform. Her hand stopped just before grasping the familiar garment.
This is a meeting with a representative of Arranon’s military. But we aren’t meeting in a military setting.
She envisioned her entrance into to the elegant restaurant wearing a uniform and the unwanted attention a military presence would cause. She sighed with resignation.
No, this occasion calls for a different solution.
She stared, remaining undecided with the selections in front of her.
Erynn spun away from the closet. The lack of variety in outfits only reminded her how limited her life had become. Being a pilot felt right, more than enough. She hadn’t needed anything else. Her existence seemed shallow now. Thoughts of her mother, Alessa, crept into her mind.
I can’t do this. I’m not like her. I’m not like anyone.
According to everyone who had known her, Alessa possessed a beauty, charm, and poise Erynn could only dream of attaining. Erynn’s grandparents, Alessa’s parents, reminded her of this each time she visited. They expressed their disapproval of her choices, from being a fighter pilot, to not spending more time with them, in their world of endless parties and socializing with only the ‘best’ people.
I wish you were here, mom.
She didn’t often find herself in a situation that caused her to think of her mother. When these rare instances did occur, Erynn felt Alessa’s absence in her life as a deep sense of loss and an empty ache in her chest.
Erynn pushed unruly curls from her face and gazed back into the mystifying depths of her closet.
Want to learn Erynn’s solution to her fashion dilemma? Check out Wednesday’s blog.
With Storm of Arranon, I wrote over 80,000 words on people, places, passions, situations, and motivations necessary for me, but not for the finished book. These are good words and great stories. Every page gives insight into my characters and their worlds. Yet they sit quietly inside my computer, destined for obscurity.
Until now.
I received a suggestion from a reader wanting more. Woo Hoo!
Okay, back to the suggestion. Make these deleted excerpts a blog, like back-story Wednesday or something. Let readers get a history that is a bit more personal and detailed.
Cool! I’ll do it!
Sooooo, here is my first excerpt. I know, it’s not Wednesday. I’ll do another this week and officially start back-story Wednesday.
Erynn—
Erynn stood before her open closet and reached for a uniform. Her hand stopped just before grasping the familiar garment.
This is a meeting with a representative of Arranon’s military. But we aren’t meeting in a military setting.
She envisioned her entrance into to the elegant restaurant wearing a uniform and the unwanted attention a military presence would cause. She sighed with resignation.
No, this occasion calls for a different solution.
She stared, remaining undecided with the selections in front of her.
Erynn spun away from the closet. The lack of variety in outfits only reminded her how limited her life had become. Being a pilot felt right, more than enough. She hadn’t needed anything else. Her existence seemed shallow now. Thoughts of her mother, Alessa, crept into her mind.
I can’t do this. I’m not like her. I’m not like anyone.
According to everyone who had known her, Alessa possessed a beauty, charm, and poise Erynn could only dream of attaining. Erynn’s grandparents, Alessa’s parents, reminded her of this each time she visited. They expressed their disapproval of her choices, from being a fighter pilot, to not spending more time with them, in their world of endless parties and socializing with only the ‘best’ people.
I wish you were here, mom.
She didn’t often find herself in a situation that caused her to think of her mother. When these rare instances did occur, Erynn felt Alessa’s absence in her life as a deep sense of loss and an empty ache in her chest.
Erynn pushed unruly curls from her face and gazed back into the mystifying depths of her closet.
Want to learn Erynn’s solution to her fashion dilemma? Check out Wednesday’s blog.
Winners!
The winners have been announced! Congratulations, Esther, Christoper, and Danielle! Thanks to Laura for hosting. Your site http://fuonlyknew.wordpress.com/, is great!
July 31, 2012
Book Trailer
Wow!
Instead of writing a blog, I checked out the Indies Unlimited tutorial for today: How to make a video trailer for your book.
Wow!
I made one for Storm of Arranon. I had fun. It was easy, and free!
Here's the link to watch the video. It's only 30 seconds. Music and everything!
http://animoto.com/play/HGGsKdJyZzROM...
Sometimes learning about all this book marketing stuff is fun.
Check out Animoto http://animoto.com/.
Instead of writing a blog, I checked out the Indies Unlimited tutorial for today: How to make a video trailer for your book.
Wow!
I made one for Storm of Arranon. I had fun. It was easy, and free!
Here's the link to watch the video. It's only 30 seconds. Music and everything!
http://animoto.com/play/HGGsKdJyZzROM...
Sometimes learning about all this book marketing stuff is fun.
Check out Animoto http://animoto.com/.
July 25, 2012
Be Thankful
I recently read a post on a reviewer website stating she would no longer accept Indie books from authors she doesn’t know. My first thought was she’d run across too many poorly written books. But no.
The indie authors’ responses to her regarding her reviews of their books prompted this decision.
Whoa! Really?
The only acceptable response this reviewer should have received was, ‘Thank you’.
(To be honest, I’m not even sure any communication to a reviewer after the review is the correct protocol. ???)
I post reviews on my websites, and links to the reviews on FB and Twitter. This is where I thank the reviewer for their consideration of my work.
Personally, I feel blessed and honored when a reviewer agrees to take my book. If I then get a review, I’m thrilled.
Okay, the reviews Storm of Arranon has received so far are awesome! Even those where a reader points out something they didn’t like or felt could have been done differently and better. I do consider their opinions. I try to see the issue from their perspective. But ultimately, it’s my story, my style, and I can’t please everyone. I accept this, difficult as it is. I would love to please every reader.
Not possible. So I strive to please myself and hope others like what I write.
As I understand and respect this reviewer’s decision, I felt a little disappointed and annoyed that some writers are so full of themselves they have ruined the opportunity for the rest of us.
June 25, 2012
Winners!
The winners have been chosen. Woo Hoo! I'm off to mail books! This has been awesome. Thank you Goodreads and all of you that entered.
June 20, 2012
Okay, What Now?
This is the hard part. What to blog about. I’m told it doesn’t always have to be about the books and writing. That doesn’t help. But once I do have a topic, I usually snap it right on to the paper, (well, the screen).Goals.
I got a new twitter follower this morning and went to check out his page. It seemed to be all about setting goals and keeping them. Anything from weight loss and fitness to career. He was connected with inspirational and motivational sites, tracking sites, where to find apps that inspire or will keep track of progress, or lack of. Well, you get the idea.
It made me think how fortunate I am to have friends. Friends that keep me on track. Push me when I need a little nudge. Challenge, console, and encourage me. And most important, help me set priorities by reminding me of what’s important.
Thanks. I hope I return the support.
Well I’m off to go Zumba for an hour and then write a chapter or two!
