K.S. Dearsley's Blog, page 9

A Song for the Holiday

There might not be much time for reading with all the Christmas fuss over the coming week, but if you are at a loose end, here's another Iyessi song.


Bleak as endless winter was the Worm.
The bones of the earth felt the pain of its passing.
Earth will sigh and air will churn.
Long was the woe that the Worm spawned
And the people wept for what was lost.
Fire will freeze and ice will burn.
Then came Ondd and breathed on the barren land
Banishing foul Lethir's lesser kindred.
Vitae death to life can turn.

And the dreams of destruction
Became haloed with hope.

Friday 13th

When I realised I was due to give my first ever talk to a school reading group of about 20 11-year-olds on Friday 13th, I had a feeling of impending doom. I'm not particularly witty or glamorous, and only occasionally dotty (I think), so I felt they were bound to be disappointed. The last thing I wanted to do was create a bad impression of writers that would accompany them throughout their lives.

The only thing for it was to turn my ordinariness into an advantge, and use it to show them that anyone can write. Within minutes I was being asked a stream of questions by enthusiastic writers of the future. They wanted to know everything from how to get past writer's block and whether I showed my early work to my family to (inevitably) how many copies of Discord's Child I had sold.

It was great to see how keen they are. Anyone who thinks that print has had its day, and that reading is on its way out, should think again. I arrived for the talk feeling like a fraud, and left feeling like a star.

The Search is Over

At last I have a new cover for Discord's Child. The original one was never intended to last more than a month or two, as I hoped to find a good one by running a contest. Unfortunately, this was a flop.

Then an artist friend offered to come to my rescue and create a cover for me. It was a favour, so I couldn't expect it to be a priority. Months passed.

Finally, I started trawling the internet for a designer. Finding a pre-made cover that would fit exactly seemed impossible. Many came close, but there was always something not quite right–maybe it was too SF or there were birds flying where I'd want onddikins. I more or less decided that I'd have to commission a custom-made cover.

Then I saw an advertisement for Magic Owl Design. I checked the website without much hope, and there it was–the perfect cover for Discord's Child. By some miracle it combines three important elements of the novel and encapsulates its atmosphere.

I offer a huge thank you to Katie Stewart at Magic Owl Design, and another to the Goodreads librarians who uploaded the new version for me.

A Day to Celebrate

The Exiles of Ondd II is no longer stuck in a sea of mud, plus it's my birthday. That's two reasons to celebrate, so here's another Iyessi song.


They say it is impossible
This thing that I must do,
But 'though it is impossible
I'll manage it with you.
And if we win, or if we lose
This always will be true -
I'll meet my fate and never rue
My foolish errand here with you.

Number Eleven

If the predictions are right, there will be quite a battle between hurricane-force winds and intense downpours and the trees and roofs in the UK tonight, so here's another Iyessi song inspired by Discord's Child to go with it.


And in the final battle, did you join in the fight
When the Worm attacked the Dragon like a blight,
When Great Ondd sent Lethir packing
With all the Dread who backed him,
And they fell down at the sight
Of his might?

The Next Thrilling Instalment

I've been asked to give a talk at a local school about how I got started writing, and about publishing on the internet. What started me writing is an easy question to answer. It was stories. When I couldn't read everything myself, I'd make up stories to go with the pictures in my books. Hopefully, both my reading and my writing have improved since then, but reading is still an inspiration. Unfortunately, it's also a hindrance. When my head is full of some other author's story, it's all too easy to put off writing my own.

So, while I'm getting on with putting the next chapter on paper, here's something to read: an Iyessi song.

I'll sing you a song of darkness and light
Of truths that are tested
And wrongs set to right
Of lies and of honesty
Of vigour and sloth
Of sleep and of seeing
And thieves in the night.

A Promise for a Friend

On Friday 27th September one of my oldest friends died after struggling against an illness that swallowed the summer. As well as being generous, supportive and understanding, she was incredibly creative and was an inspiration to many, not least me. Her name is Margarita Rubra, known to me as Mary. Her life touched many, many people and we'll all miss her.

Here is a poem from Artists & Liars that would not have been written if not for her.


The Promise

A vague pledge, a hope,
Indistinct yet imminent,
The hazy glow of morning
Veiled with a grey net of mist.
In head and body, hands and heart,
Thoughts, actions and longings collide.
A wish, an expectation
Of what is there and what might be,
What the swearer intends and the hearer desires
And the gaps between
Words, images
Seen from behind and in front of the paint
Finishing the story.
A door opening, letting through a crack of light
Illuminating wishes.

Old Masters of the Future

I've been catching up on some reading, and was given a copy of The Pedestrian by Ray Bradbury. The story was written in 1951, which makes me think how prescient many science fiction writers are–or is it that they inspire the youngsters of today to make the things they read possible, such as warp drive or teleporting. Okay, so some things will probably always be impossible, but what happens in The Pedestrian could easily be close at hand.

As for Ray Bradbury's classic Fahrenheit 451, given the increasing use of tablets and smart phones, I wonder what temperatures computers burn at?

The Power of Nine

Nine is a fascinating number. Add up the numerals of multiples of nine and what do you get? Nine. Here's an example: 1 + 8 = 9. Very useful if you're ever trying to balance an account and the total is out by a multiple of nine–look for a transposed figure. What has this to do with books other than the financial kind? Not very much, apart from 'Fellowships' and suchlike, and the fact that the ninth Iyessi song is now due.

Here it is:

Nestle in the shelter of Ondd's wings
Be cradled in the coils of Its tail
Feel the rhythm of Its breath rock you.
There is one–a pillar strong as stone
Lay your troubles in his lap
And be at peace.

It's That Time Again

It's time for another Iyessi song. I hope you enjoy it.

There is no love like a mother's love
Like a flood it bears all before it.
There is no love like a sister's love
A thread that binds and never breaks.
Part mother from child? Part sister from sister?
As well ask the sun to sleep at noon.