C.M. Simpson's Blog, page 208

Winter Sunsets: June 2013

Winter is the time of year for interesting weather and spectacular atmospherics. Here's what we were treated to Sunday night:


 In chronological order, of course.


All within about a half hour.


Every time I went to walk away, I would look up and just have to stay a little longer.


The colors were amazing - and not a drop of rain fell.


Awesome!

Australian Birds: The Curious Currawong

So here I am, doing the dishes, when I spot this fine fellow out my back window. I just *had* to go take some pictures of him.


It's a currawong, not a magpie. Still has the long beak, and most piercing of yellow eyes. It spots me as soon as I hit the back step.

 
Pretty soon, it's checking me out, just as much as I'm checking it out.

And, it's not happy when I move closer.

It left shortly afterwards, but I'm sure I'll see it again :-)

New Release: Magick on the Forest's Edge

Forced to flee with her village, priestly apprentice, Althessa, discovers that danger comes in many guises and salvation is often unexpected. When their undead pursuers are slain by an unknown force, Althessa assists her mistress in consecrating their remains to ensure they cannot return from the dead, yet again. But magick calls from a nearby forest, and another life is in danger. One of those responsible for bringing down their pursuers is balanced on the edge of death. With the priests too busy to assist, and only her wizardly brother to help her, can Althessa perform the healing required, or will the attempt bring death to all who dare it?
Magick on the Forest’s Edge is a fantasy short story, where two children investigate a magical alarm, and face the consequences of trying to do the right thing against great odds.
Published: June 8, 2013, Magick on the Forest’s Edge can now be found at Smashwords, Kindle, Kobo, Nook and iTunes. 

Progress Report: Week 3 June 2013

With the completion and publication of many of my older projects, I am now moving into the next phase of my writing. Production is taking less time, and I’m able to devote more time to writing. This week I produced an average of 2,367 words/day. That’s not bad. Merciless, when coupled with a full-time job and study, but not bad.OverviewNew words produced: 16,572Old words revised: 0Works completed: 0Works revised: 0Covers created: 0Works published: 0Works submitted: 0Competitions Entered: 0Tier 2 Task:RomanceNovel14A—Taylor’s Story: Added 4,562 words.Tier 4 Task:Annual1: Added 10,908 words.ShortStory39: Started. Added 1,112 words.Publishing TasksNil publishing tasks this week. I have completely focused on my writing.New ArrivalsShortStory59: To do with barbarians and bugs.

Progress Report: Week 2 June 2013

It's late - internet got uncooperative, so here it is. I got a bit done the week before last.OverviewNew words produced: 8,612Old words revised: 32,845Works completed: 1Works revised: 1Covers created: 2 (1-2 variations)Works published: 2 (2-3 release platforms)Works submitted: 0Competitions Entered: 0 Tier 2 Tasks:Other Projects—added 2,073 words.Tier 3 Tasks:ChapBook16A—Troll Mist Morning: Revised, edited, formatted, assigned cover and released.ExtrasAnnual1—365 Days of Zombies: Added 4,688 wordsPublishing Tasks Created 7 blog entries for this blog;Created 4 blog entries for C.M. Simpson Publishing blog;Created covers for Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat and Magick on the Forest’s Edge Formatted Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat on behalf of C.M. Simpson Publishing for upload to Smashwords and Amazon-Kindle;Formatted Magick on the Forest’s Edge for upload to Smashwords and Amazon-Kindle;Formatted Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat on behalf of C.M. Simpson Publishing for upload to CreateSpace PoD platform;Updated Linked-In with Shadow’s Fall ;Updated Pinterest with Shadow’s Fall, Shadow Trap, and Shadow’s Rise updated covers;Updated FaceBook with with Shadow’s Fall ;Updated 4 Amazon Author site pages for Carlie Simonsen and C.M. SimpsonNew ArrivalsTNotes3A: For Legacy of Dreams .

First Chapters: Troll Mist Morning as Carlie Simonsen

Troll-Mist Morning is the story of a teen who goes the extra mile so his mum can feel safe. Early morning starts, and standing around in the mist in the middle of winter, however, are one thing; trolls are another. When magic returns to the world and the trolls come, too, how is Daniel going to get his mum to see sense? Troll-Mist Morning is the first book in the series exploring what happens When Worlds Collide.
When Daniel’s mum wakes him at five-thirty in the morning, he knows it’s so she can go and take photographs. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times he points out that most photographers take their early morning shots in perfect safety, his mum just can’t feel safe—so Daniel goes with her, even when its early and cold and the mist hasn’t cleared. Especially when the mist hasn’t cleared. Muggers, Daniel can handle, but what on Earth is he going to do about trolls?
Troll-Mist Morning is about family, and caring for even the crazy members. It’s about a young person who looks after his mum, even when he doesn’t see the same kind of dangers.
Troll-Mist Morning is available from Smashwords, Amazon-Kindle, Nook, Kobo, and iTunes.
First Chapters: Troll Mist MorningCarlie SimonsenFive-Thirty Start

My mum does crazy things like waking me at five-thirty in the morning and saying, “Hey Daniel, can you come for a walk with me?”So, I roll over and look up at her, blinking my eyes against the light and pulling the quilt up to my chin, and I say, “Why?”She says “I’d like to photograph that church in the mist.”“Which church?” I ask.“You know, that one on the corner. The white one with all the curves and that tower thing.”Yeah, real good words, mum. But I know why she’s asking me to come with her. She’s not as happy-go-lucky as a lot of other photographers. She knows about the monsters that live in the real world.There are days when she wishes she could be like the other guys in her class—the ones who go down by the lake on their own at weird hours of the day, or the ones that take their expensive cameras into the rougher parts of town to take pictures of graffiti. Poor mum.She’s a bit scared of being out alone with her camera. She says when she’s behind the camera, she can’t see what might be sneaking up behind her. I don’t tell her that plenty of other photographers take photos in the early morning without getting mugged. She’d just point out the few who have been mugged, and tell me that’s what they said before they got the snot beaten out of them.She’d say the others have just been lucky.What can I say? She’s my mum. I’ve seen her when she’s behind a camera. Lost isn’t the word. It’s like she’s in another world. Forget muggers and murderers. Mum’s more likely as to step out in front of a car, or fall down a hole. When she takes pictures, all that she sees is the picture. Someone has to take care of her.So, what do I say when she asks me to go for a twenty-minute walk at five-thirty in the morning? I always say “Yes”, and then I roll out of bed and get dressed, and do my best not to mind.



END FIRST CHAPTER
If you would like to read more, Troll-Mist Morning is available from Smashwords, Amazon-Kindle, Nook, Kobo, and iTunes.

A Belated Welcome for Winter - Three Pictures from the Start of the Season

In the middle of publishing Shadow’s Fall, I took a little time to capture an image from the beginning of winter. Actually, I captured several, but these three are my favorites:

First Chapters: Shadow's Fall

Shadow’s Fall is the third and final novel in the Shadow series trilogy. This tale contains strong elements of horror, following the path of a small group of heroes who must work together to prevent an ancient evil’s escape.
High Priest Urkhrist has settled to his task as the keeper of Beauwallin’s prison. With his long-time friend and companion, Vorgren, guarding his back, and the spymaster’s apprentice, Tara Bloodthorn, acting as his representative in the city of Thargood, he had thought the battle over, but something is wrong. Beauwallin stirs within his prison, and wizards, priests and sorcerers are being taken from Thargood’s streets. The pattern is similar to the one they saw when Beauwallin attempted to break free the last time. Gilzereet must find out if the Old One is trying to escape, again, and discover how he is garnering the power to do so—and then he must try to find a way to defeat him, to succeed, where a pantheon of gods has already failed.
Shadow’s Fall is available on Smashwords, Kindle, Kobo, Smashwords, iTunes and Nook.
First Chapters: Shadow's FallDarkness in the Snow 

The raiders struck before the sun had fully cleared the mountain. Callum heard them coming, and rolled from his bed, his hand reaching for the crossbow hanging on the cabin wall. He died before he could use it to defend himself or his family.The shuttered window of his cabin erupted in a shower of wooden shards as his bare feet touched the floor. With a snarl as fierce as a winter wolf’s, but in a form shaped more like a man, the raider came through the window, its momentum matching Callum’s own, as he leapt across the room. It tore out his throat as his hand touched the crossbow’s stock. A second invader followed the first, and Callum’s wife screamed.Her grief was short-lived. A third raider burst through the door in a swirl of snow, and silenced her shrieks before she could draw breath to scream again. A fountain of red spray drifted softly down amidst the tearing veil of white, brightening the raider’s gray skin with scarlet. As the droplets began to darken, their leader looked for his designated prey.He’d been sent for the hunter’s daughter, and it did not take him long to find her. She was at the edge of the loft, looking down at those that had come. Her long hair hung loose in a soft, brown veil, and her full lips moved silently beneath cheeks that had lost their color. She was trying to calm her mind, enough to gather the energy for a spell.Her hands weaved the signs. Her lips parted, and she forced the words past a throat that threatened to close off any sound. The first of the raiders leapt towards her, his clawed hands reaching out to grip the boards at her feet.She stepped back, voicing the final word of her incantation. One of those below her became a statue of ice; it didn’t even have time to roar a protest. The raider clinging to the edge of the loft laughed.Callum’s daughter looked at him, and the words of her next summoning died in her throat. The raider hanging from the boards at her feet was dead, yet he lived, and moved, and swung himself into her loft with the ease of any man she had known. The creature was something of a mage as well, for he stretched a hand toward her, and she found she could not move or speak or draw the breath to scream. From below her came the sound of meat being torn, and wild beasts feeding.“Maelinna,” the thing before her crooned, “we have traveled far in our search for you. Come with me now. No harm will be done.”No harm to what? She wanted to scream but found that only her legs would move as the beast turned to lower the loft’s ladder-like staircase. Maelinna tried to run. Perhaps she could fling herself from the loft’s edge, and die before the creature could wreak its foul purpose on her. She tried, but her feet only moved to stand behind the thing, and her hand reached out to grasp the proffered fingers as it led her down the steps.The carnage on the cabin floor nearly broke the spell that held her. The beasts, those other raiders, were feeding from the still warm bodies of her parents, but that was not the worst. As she followed their leader towards her front door, her father stirred. Hope that he still lived warred with fear of the same. The raiders stood away from him, letting him rise to stand among them. For a long moment he swayed on his feet, looking at the faces that surrounded him, until he saw his daughter.“Maelinna,” he whispered, “come. Your papa is hungry.”Maelinna saw the change in her father’s face, and shrank from him. Her escort stood between them.“Not yet,” he commanded. “The Lord wants this one. Go with your brethren; they will show you where you may hunt, and on whom you may feed.”The raiders around her mother began to back away, but Maelinna did not see any more. The raider’s leader grasped her wrist, and towed her from the cabin’s fading warmth. The predawn chill clawed its way through the thin covering of her night gown, as her feet sank into the powder of newly-fallen snow. Now she understood how the raiders had come so close to the cabin without her father hearing. She understood more, when she saw the nature of the beasts the raiders rode.Horses they might once have been, but now they were creatures as fearsome as their masters. Some power had been spent in their making, for their eyes glowed red, and sharp fangs protruded from behind their lips. As one they turned their heads in her direction. Their lips curled up and their jaws parted. Gray tongues, elongated and narrow, lapped the air for her scent, and the lead horse pawed at the snow, nodding its head up and down in approval.Maelinna had seen such a gesture before—when she brought hay to her pony. It made her pull against the hand that held her. Her captor turned his gaze toward her.“It is not far,” he said. “We shall not need the horses.”Maelinna felt a calmness in his words reach out and wrap itself around her, so she no longer tried to free herself from his grasp. This new peace lasted, until the raider murmured soft words under his breath. The sense of them jarred against her mind, but Maelinna could not raise the strength to fight it, and the spell bonds tightened their enshrouding weave.Suddenly her feet would not move, and her arms hung against her sides like wooden beams. The raider let go of her hand, before her grip trapped his fingers and then, when she was perfectly still and only her eyes mirrored her fear, he wrapped his arms around her and carried her.He did not have to take her far. An area had been cleared of snow, and stripped bare of vegetation. Colored yarn was tied between sticks of willow and larch in a spell pattern Maelinna had never seen before. She stared, trying to decipher its purpose.Grandmama would have known, Maelinna thought, as the raider set her down in the center of the pattern. The raider’s hands rested on her hips for a long moment, his fingers lingering as he pressed his face close to her neck and drew in a deep breath of her scent. Maelinna saw his face twist with abruptly-stilled desire, as he took his hands away from her and stepped back from the circle.“You would have been a worthy meal, indeed,” he said, then the yarn exploded into colored flame, and Maelinna felt herself carried to another place.The raider’s spell was broken by the wards of the transportation. She felt them tear as the yarn-woven spell took her further and further from home. The morning’s cold combined with the ice of teleportation to take the feeling from her limbs, and soon she became afraid that she would freeze to death in the whirling limbo that held her. Maelinna flailed, trying to keep her balance as the spell cast her across an unknown distance.She landed hard, the jarring of stone beneath her feet driving her to her knees, and her palms stung where they slammed into the floor. For a minute she crouched there, gasping for breath, relieved the penetrating cold had diminished. This reprieve, however, was short-lived; strong hands seized her before she could recover, and she was lifted from the ground.“So glad you could make it.” The voice was male and smooth as velvet. Hands pinned her arms to her sides, before arms wrapped around her from behind. Another form moved into her view, stooped, and took hold of her ankles. Still shaking from the cold and disoriented from her journey, Maelinna tried to center herself. She could sense a presence in the room and it was neither human nor undead like the raiders at her cabin. When her eyes had adjusted to the dull light of her destination, she looked around. The entire room was made of stone, and she could see no windows.There was a wooden table at one end of the room with a bench on either side of it. There was a small cabinet and a fireplace. These she noted, as she was carried backwards. She also noted the face of the woman that held her feet. Green eyes stared back at her, hard as stone in a face losing its tan to being inside too long. Short, brown hair curled around the face, framing it, but failing to soften the deep lines there.Maelinna turned her head, trying to see the man pinning her arms. She could not, and his grasp crushed her against his chest, so she couldn’t tilt her head back far enough to see his face. They carried her only a short way, before lifting her, and laying her on something hard, and smooth as stone. She felt chains loop about her body, and shackles close around her wrists and ankles, and a deep, cold terror froze her limbs and voice. Lamplight flared and a third person stepped from behind a pillar. Darkness shrouded him, enhancing his features and making the winter’s cold seem more balmy than a fine spring day.“Shaikhan did well,” he said, and Maelinna felt some other, darker power echo his words with satisfaction.Well, indeed, it murmured, as the newcomer came to stand beside her. He raised fingertips to her cheek, tracing its line to the edge of her mouth. Maelinna shrank away from him. His eyes were almost black, and full of shadows, hiding secrets that seemed too terrible for her mortality to bear. His hair was dark brown, and glinted with auburn highlights in the lamps.He smiled, and his teeth were frightening in their perfection. The presence that came with him made her more frightened still. Maelinna felt the blood drain from her face with the strength of her fear. Her captor must have noticed the change. He looked towards her and, with none of the growing amusement she sensed in the presence that rode him, spoke.“Don’t be afraid. We will not keep you for long.”


END FIRST CHAPTER
If you would like to read more, Shadow’s Fall is available on Smashwords, Kindle, Kobo, Smashwords, iTunes and Nook.

Goal Achieved: Looking Ahead

I’ve reached 500,00 words worth of revised and published projects… and now the real work begins. I have published my last completed novel and short story, and have only two more pre-written chapter books to go.
At the beginning of this year, I thought I would have trouble publishing and writing 500,000 words. This tally does not include words produced for blogs, and it’s not about to. Somehow, in the last six months, I reached that goal. Now, I’m going to try to get to 750,000 words by the end of the year… and I’m not sure I can.
The maths says I should writing 2,500 words, minimum to reach this goal, but I know I have already 120,000 words, which means I can probably drop that target to a minimum of 1,500 a work day. I also need to try and get a little more sleep, and to make sure I exercise regularly. If I don’t, the words don’t flow well, or only trash will come out. I can’t afford for either to happen—and I can’t afford to get sick again. Guess only time will tell.
Goals to help achieve this? They look a little like this:
6 chapter books (12-30k);4 short stories for An Anthology of Blades (8-20k);1 annual (hard to say, somewhere between 40-100k);1-2 Madeleine Torr novels (60-120k);1 short story and poetry collection (approx. 80k);1 anthology (approx. 40k);Other projects (approx. 120k);1-2 novels (80-200k)
I think it’s a big ask, but I guess I can only try and see.

Dark Fantasy: Horror and other elements in the Shadow series

Two years ago, if you had asked me if I wrote horror, I would have said ‘no’… and I would have been wrong. Over the last twelve months I have been editing the Shadow series trilogy, and Fisherpriest , and I have realized that I *do* write horror—of a kind. It is horror in a fantasy setting, but it *is* horror nonetheless, and that surprises me, because I just don’t think I’m the kind to be able to write that sort of stuff. I’m a nice person who writes fantasy with a few dark elements. You know the kind of thing: human sacrifice, evil powers, undead monsters created from living men, torture, blood, guts, loss and regret. Since at least one of the elements forms the crux of the Shadow series, and the rest seem to play major roles or make regular appearances I’ve been calling it dark fantasy.And what is it about? Your usual ancient power trying to escape its millennia-long imprisonment from a time when different gods ruled, and those raised by the current pantheon to oppose him. It’s a regular trope of the fantasy genre. How is it different? I’m not sure. I’m sure that somewhere, someone else has used one, if not all of the elements I’ll mention below. I’m not sure if they’ve used them in the same combination, but I truly hope not.Ø  Barbarians as totemic warriors—in particular one barbarian who has lost his totem, retaining only its name in his exile from the tribe. As such, he’s not very barbaric, but his roots show through, and some of his personal history is revealed by events in the story.Ø  Elves—because, in this tale, there had to be elves—in multiple cultures: as warriors and magicians, with a custom of polygamy; as racial purists of primitive and close-minded beliefs; as shapeshifters with a reputation that makes them outcasts among other races.Ø  Magic—priestly, wizardly, and elemental. Different kinds of magic, and different wielders, all possessing a distinctive flavor.Ø  “The Companions”—every fantasy seems to have them, a small core group who are tasked with facing down the main danger in the story. In this case, I wanted them to need help. I wanted a group of characters that couldn’t take on their enemy on their own, that didn’t lead huge armies, but coordinated a joint effort from those who recognized the threat the escaping power posed. I’m not sure how well this worked, but they managed to make it through, each playing their part as best they could. Ø  An Evil Power—another common trope, but one I wanted to explore. Why was it evil? Maybe it was just different? What went on inside its head? Why would anyone oppose it? That kind of thing. I came up with a couple of reasons, such as the power taking the concept of ‘one god’ a little too far in a polytheistic pantheon. Yeah, that could turn the other deities against it… among other things. I guess no one likes an “eater of souls”. And why do that? Well, I found a reason ‘my’ evil power, Beauwallin, might devour souls as well. I’m not sure how unique he ended up being, but he was interesting to explore.Ø  The gods—There were a lot of questions I wanted to explore with the gods:Ø  Where to gods go when they die?Ø  What happens to the old pantheon when a new one is born?Ø  How are new gods created, and who decides on their portfolios?Ø  Are the old gods remembered and, if they’re no longer around, how does that work?Ø  Magical Creatures—pegasii, elementals, mounts bonded to a holy warrior.Ø  Wizards—how many flavors, what colors, what types. Ø  Undead—if undead are created, who makes them, how are they different, and what abilities do they have. Granted there is a focus on Beauwallin’s undead creations, but that’s because I had to narrow the field somehow. How did vampires come about? You’ll have to read and see.Ø  Elementals—why did most books only have four types. Surely everything was made of something, and each something could be considered an element, and if there was an elemental pantheon, then there had to be myriads of elements represented.So, all these bits and pieces ended up in the Shadow series, a myriad of threads in my first fantasy trilogy.And finally, why call it a ‘series’?—Because I don’t think it wants to stay a trilogy. There’s another book in there to do with the fall of Beauwallin. I only found out about it in March, but stories are funny that way. I think I’ll keep the Shadowtrilogy as the first three books, but the other stories will be added as they fit, which is why, for moment, I keep calling it a ‘series trilogy’. For now, it’s both.