K.S. Dearsley's Blog, page 7

I Got Rhythm

I've been doing a lot of typing on the computer lately–not the most glamorous part of a writer's job–but music has helped me to stick at it. The tempo of the music has to be just right, otherwise my fingers tend to follow the pace of the scene–slower for sad, fast for action etc. Songs are a problem too. If I listen to the words, I find myself typing them instead of mine.

Experimentation has revealed the ideal typing music for me is flamenco or gypsy music. Its passion can be happy or sad, it's lively and rhythmic but not uniform or intrusive. It moves you along with it, keeping your mood buoyant and preventing your body tensing so that you can barely move when you take a break.

If the Iyessi had computers, they would no doubt play the keys like a piano. Here's another song:

I am the morning of the world
And you the evening.
Shall our swords sing of life and death?
This is no game.
I am what is to be
And you, the past.
Come, let us remake the world together
And sing new rules.

A Balancing Act

Music can aid the concentration or it can be a big distraction. Vocal music tempts me to listen to the words instead of getting on with what I'm meant to be writing, whereas heavy metal's great for doing the housework to. But what to choose while continuing to key in rewrites? How about these guys - http://www.facebook.com/HangMassive?

I don't think the Iyessi could come up with anything more suited to the task. That said, here's another Iyessi song:

In the night, in her dreams
Little Valer-relo walked.
Nightmares lurked in tangled leaves
Just beyond hearing.
In her path there sat a soldier:
"I will slay the beasts for you!"

Off the path, in the thickets
The faithful soldier leapt.
When she woke, when she rose
Little Valer-relo found
His sword was in her hand.

I Used to Be Indecisive...

How should a sequel begin? I'm embarking on another round of rewriting Discord's Apprentice. Once again, chapter one doesn't want to keep still. Every time I look at it, I alter it completely. I keep changing my mind about whether to plunge straight in with the action, add a prologue to bring new readers up to date with essential elements of the back story or to try to dribble the information throughout the narrative and risk making it slow.

Hmm... A re-read of the opening of Stephen Donaldson's The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant sequels or David Eddings' The Belgariad ought to help, except I doubt I'll be able to stop at just the opening. They do say, though, that if you want to write you have to read, don't they?

Flavour of the Month

That's me at the moment. I'm author of the month at Twiction Addiction, and the taste is rather like custard. Take a look at the site (@TwictionAddict) and all will become clear.

I'm honoured to be featured in this way. As well as publishing my twiction throughout the month there is an interview, so if you'd like to know more about me, this is your chance. You could also trying taking a look at Alfie Dog Fiction, which features my responses to its questionnaires.

That's enough about me. Here's another Iyessi song. As Hale & Pace once sang: "Some songs are very, very long. This one isn't!"

Simple songs are often best
Soothe the heart and smooth the frown
Set the troubled mind at rest
Yes, simple songs are often best.

Wolf Song

How do you stop two bichons who think they're wolves howling? Sing to them. They look at me, look at each other, then go quiet. They obviously think my pain is worse than theirs, and it has to be said, they harmonise wonderfully, but I don't. Having a voice like a rusty bucket, I sympathise with Ro in Discord's Child. I shall stick to writing Iyessi-songs instead. Here's another:

It started with a small seed.
The helpful plant grew to a weed.
Rank it rambled,
Strangled its fellow flowers,
Bloomed beautiful, but its perfume choked,
Broke the trust that planted it.
Its lies become monsters, grow and breed.

Another Extract

Apparently, yesterday was supposed to be 'Lazy Day' and I missed it. I don't need much encouragement to do nothing, but if I did, the rain that pelted down all day would have been sufficient. Thankfully, I don't have to go out in the rain, unlike Ro et al in Discord's Apprentice.

At one point, Ro looks at the sky:

"It had been heavy and threatening for the last three days, soaking them morning and afternoon as if someone had squeezed the clouds like sponges. Between downpours the air was so heavy that it pressed against their chests, making walking an effort, especially where the road had become a morass that held on to their ankles. The dray horse walked with its head down and had begun to wheeze. It was a measure of Raimi's desperation that he was willing to make it go further."

Hopefully, I'll be able to look for a sunnier extract next time.

Deleted Scenes

Some characters simply have too much fun. You give them an inch and they try to take over the whole book. By the time I've finished Discord's Apprentice , I shall probably have as many pages of deleted scenes as the ones that I keep. It seems a shame to waste all that paper, so here's one to scratch your heads over.

Chosen jumped up unsteadily, knocking the chair over. The crash made Oonay wince. It was enough on its own to bring servants running. She tried to push her aside, but Chosen caught the sash again and swung her around. The effort threw Chosen against the door.

She shook her head. "What did you put in the wine?"

"Not enough, obviously."

"You tried to kill me!" Chosen began screaming.

"I tried to calm you," Oonay said, but it was useless.

Biscuit growled, hackles raised, ready to jump as soon as Oonay released his collar. Chosen screamed again and aimed a kick at him. The move unbalanced her. Oonay yanked on her arm and sent her sprawling.

Chosen's screams became shrieks. "My baby!" She curled up with her arms wrapped around her belly.

Oonay managed to lock the door behind her, and had almost reached the next corridor with Biscuit trotting at her side before a manservant came pelting from the backstairs.

"Quick! Chosen is having a fit. I'll fetch a doctor."

The manservant hesitated. It should be he who ran for help and the princess who stayed.

"Now!" Her tone left him no choice.

She hurried on. "No time to pretend we're going for a walk in the city now, Biscuit." She told the dog, who only seemed to hear the word 'walk' and capered on its lead.

Don't worry–it will all make sense eventually.

Broadening the Mind

I've just returned from Florence, and very inspiring my visit was too. The hotel I stayed at (the Palazzo Medici dal Borgo on Via della Scala) had T. S. Eliot as one of its guests in 1937, but I doubt that his room was next to the lift.

It's probably impossible to stay in Florence and not be inspired in some way. I'm sure if I lived there, between sipping chianti and eating gelato I'd create reams of deathless prose. Maybe if I flag down a passing ice-cream van and watch Inspector Montalbano it will have a similar effect, but somehow I doubt it.

Here's another Iyessi song to be going on with until I come back down to earth:


Desired as a dream, I see you from afar.
You see me not.
Long have I loved you.
Passions unrequited burn the heart.

Unsought you found me, your nearness pains me,
Your gaze meets mine.
Long have I loved you.
Fires rekindled burn more bright.

Happy Birthday

The words we sing to our nearest and dearest on their birthdays aren't great literature, but they're all part of the fun, and fun is what the latest competition at The World's Best Birthday Ideas is all about. If you have a humorous birthday verse in you, there's still time to enter (the closing date is 30th June), so check out the website at http://www.great-happy-birthday-ideas... where you'll also find one of my efforts.

There's only one birthday in Discord's Child, and that doesn't go entirely to plan, so there are no birthday songs, but here is the next one in the Iyessi song series:


Cover these skeleton bones
With a flesh of earth,
With veins of roots and water,
With skin of waving grasslands.
Leave me bare and I will shiver,
Thrust fingers towards the sun,
Snatch the warmth
And feed my hunger.

Spinetingling Science Fiction

My SF story, 'No Good Deed', is spinetingling–it's official! The tale, has been chosen as the overall winner of the April 2014 Spinetinglers competition.

Set in the near future,'No Good Deed' tells what happens when a man's impulsive act of kindness disturbs the balance of good and bad. You'll find it at http://www.spinetinglers.co.uk along with the other prizewinners, and it's due to appear in a print anthology at a date yet to be arranged.