Cairn Rodrigues's Blog: The Light Stealers Song, page 5
June 21, 2014
More Than A Little Romance
Available on Amazon.com
Romance isn’t just the province of romantic couples. It’s not all heaving bosoms and swarthy heroes. It’s not always big, obvious and showy. It doesn’t always end with a happy couple riding away into the sunset.
More often, true romance is overlooked because it’s not traditional, not lovey-dovey romance. To me, platonic friendships can be equally as romantic as sexual relationships.
Today’s post is inspired by one of my favorite bloggists, Jason Cantrell. He recently wrote a post, Friendships Among Your Characters, that got me to thinking – yet again – about all the romantic friendships populating the Song of Solstice.
Prospector and Tonyo are the obvious choice for me to discuss today. Even though there’s a paternal element to how Prospector feels about his nomad companion, they are best friends despite the difference in their ages. Two men from drastically different places who team up to face an uncertain future together certainly sounds romantic, doesn’t it?
Yeah, I’m not referring to them today 
It’s the friendship between Awnyx Tiell and his best friend Snatch that interests me. Irrelevant is the fact that Snatch has been dead for over ten years, or that the two of them only had a brief couple of years together before tragedy took Snatch away.
It was a friendship defining the lives of both men and a friendship that sustains Awnyx long after Snatch dies. They met cute, Nyx and Snatch, when one foolishly picked a drunken fight with other on a fateful night in Iolytia. They were just boys at the time, and fought with the stamina and single-mindedness of boys. By the end of that prolonged battle, they were best friends. Comrades.
Spending the next couple of years together, Awnyx and Snatch happily fought, drank and whored throughout the indigo tier. Their affection for each other was tangible, it made others jealous because of its intensity. And it was romantic, two disparate brothers encouraging each other to LIVE BIG while the chance was theirs.
More than a decade after Snatch’s death, Awnyx still mourns for his best friend. The Big Man blames himself for his friend’s cruel demise, letting his guilt drive him forward on a mission he doesn’t believe in. The Boss chooses to intervene on Awnyx’s guilt, chooses to reunite the two best friends, if only in a dream.
Snatch gives the mission meaning for Awnyx, ensuring the Captain will do his duty and carry out the odd orders given by his superiors. But at the heart of it is Snatch, still trying to do right by his best friend, still making sure his best friend LIVES BIG.
Now, that to me is romance, true romance. It’s not bounded by social convention, sexual desire or even death. It’s a relationship that never truly ends as long as one person is still alive to remember.
Awnyx and Snatch are not done with each other, not by a country mile. In Solstice, anything is possible and dreams are as real as real life. Because real romance never really ends.
How important are characters to the story? How do you define romance? Please share your thoughts with me!
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June 19, 2014
The Fist And The Rainbow
Available on Amazon.com
It’s ironic that I’m writing a series of books based on the clash of the power of creation versus the power of destruction. When I started writing it, I didn’t realize the battleground would be inside me.
But I see the two goddesses, feel them, battling inside me. The rainbow and the fist, one seeking the beauty of harmony and the other seeking the beauty of chaos. My twin goddesses, Lumy and Nory, aren’t products of my imagination. They are both universal ideas given physical form, by me in this case.
The trouble with these twins is that it’s an all-or-nothing battle. Both ladies deal in absolutes. Neither side takes prisoners, only creates casualties. Neither side will relent, agree to a cease fire nor acknowledge a little bit of rightness from the other side.
The goddesses only see themselves and their desires.
So where does that leave us? We are but tiny little creatures, forced into this war by the vicissitudes of living. The rainbow and the fist aren’t fighting for us, for our benefit. They are squabbling over us, to see who wins, to see which goddess we prefer.
I prefer that they both leave me alone for a while, alone with my thoughts. But Lumy the rainbow keeps whispering in my ear that I need to make more pretty words for her. That my talents and creativity are just wasting away and I should give more of myself.
Nory the fist whispers other things. She likes my anger, my rage, and feeds it in hopes I’ll snap. She wants me to start a firestorm in my life because it will entertain her.
And so we dance, every day, every hour. Dancing on the razor’s edge between good and evil, creation and destruction. I don’t want either right now, I want to be left alone. I want to slog through my duties without the eternal conflict only hoping for some scant peace when I’m done.
What I want the twins won’t let me have. Because I am tiny, insignificant in my wants.
The only thing that matters is the war.
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June 17, 2014
Hitting The Stage
I’m sick of feeling so conflicted inside. I’m over grieving, it’s been enough and I have a low boredom threshold. It’s time for grief to amble off to a dusty corner until the next time it’s called upon.
The emotions battering my insides are conflicting, raw and belligerent. Anger, sadness, bitterness, betrayal, guilt take turns playing out vicious tableaus behind my eyes. I just want it to end, I’m exhausted emotionally. It’s not really my call though.
Grief isn’t over me yet.
It feels like there’s a furious vortex whirling inside my body, washing over my guts. The force of the whirling uproots everything, old hurts mixing with fresh agonies, long forgotten memories like jagged shards of glass embed in my brain, self recrimination screams in my ears.
The worst part is the center of the vortex, the eye of the storm. It’s supposed to be calm in there, a haven of stillness at the heart of cacophony. There’s no safe haven in here though, everything is worse in the eye.
Turns out, it’s not an all-seeing eye down there. It’s black hole, sucking in all unfortunate enough to make the middle. It’s a bottomless pit of unnamed want, ravenously gobbling everything but never getting sated. It consumes and demands more, consumes and demands more.
It’s a physical ache inside my belly that I can’t soothe, can’t balm. It’s an angry toddler, unable to express its desires and lashing out in frustration. Nothing makes it calm, nothing satisfies it. It exists only to be miserable.
I ricochet between manic energy projects – like writing an ebook in week – to long periods of over-arching ennui where I can’t muster the will to even get dressed. The house is a shambles, the yard is a wreck, I have no will to clean anything, to tidy up my once lovely garden.
Cooking has long been my refuge. Cleaning up after is what keeps me out of the kitchen nowadays. I’ll do anything to avoid washing dishes and frequently use the drought as an excuse not to do them at all.
After reading up on the five stages of grief, I know I’m stuck in limbo between stages two, three and four. Anger, bargaining and depression. The three horseman of my personal apocalypse.
As I stated before, knowing them intellectually doesn’t help much. The vortex whirls too fast for rational thought to do anything but get carried off and beaten up. I’ve considered talking to a professional, but what’s the point? I won’t take the pills they will offer, I’ll still have to endure the grieving process. What words can I say to that person that I can’t say here?
That’s a personal choice, by the way. I’m not condemning mental health professionals or people who choose to take their help. I’m just not choosing that because I’ve been down that road before. There’s nothing at the end I can’t achieve on my own on the same schedule.
I just wish I knew the details of that schedule. I’d like to be able to circle a date on the calendar and know that’s when my time is up, when my penance has been served.
But vortices don’t run on schedules, they run on chaos. So I sit and feel all the feels, like it or not. Usually it’s not. I sit here and don’t clean. I sit here, stuck. Stuck again. Stuck some more.
I can’t keep jumping out of airplanes every time the eye of the storm gets to be too much. I can’t put off grieving. All I can do is ride it out, hoping the vortex doesn’t swallow me up.
The only thing I have to hold onto is the knowledge that this will pass someday. I’ll be a stronger person at the end, on that magical day, better for the pain somehow.
Until then, for any of you readers who are experiencing the same thing, we can only hold fast and have faith. All storms, even the most furious ones, pass eventually. One day, we’ll find a sunny clearing inside, pristine and unharmed by the vortex.
One day, we will feel the sun again.
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June 16, 2014
Let’s Review
I had a blog post on my mind upon waking up this morning. It would have been phenomenal, action packed and chock full of pithy wisdom.
Available on Amazon.com
Chock full. I’m almost sure of it.
It’s gone now, blown away by the giddy breeze of another fantastic review for The Last Prospector on Amazon.
This tweet was waiting for me when I logged on this morning:
Check my 5 star review of The Last Prospector by @cairnrodrigues .Reply w/ #AmazonCart for a free sample http://t.co/3zazPBMBAx via @amazon
— Write2Film (@write2film) June 16, 2014
This brings my total up to 15 stars. 15 out of 15! Now I want more. Prospector is waiting to meet all of you, please consider introducing yourselves. He’s an amazing guy with an equally amazing story and he is poised to do the one thing no one is the history of Solstice has been able to do.
Seriously, now is the time to meet him. He’ll be doing some great things soon and you’ll want to be ready to help. If you don’t read fantasy fiction, The Last Prospector is a great place to start. The story is the thing, not the magicks nor the giant cats, but the story.
Please come to Solstice and meet everyone, I promise you won’t ever want to leave.
Check out the latest 5 star review for The Last Prospector on Amazon! http://amzn.to/1kGtXMw
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June 14, 2014
The G
Tomorrow is Father’s Day. It kind of hit me like a freight train in the solar plexus yesterday afternoon.
I knew it was coming, but kind of blurred it out. Tomorrow will be a double whammy of misery. My husband’s children will be seeing him and ignoring me, and I can’t even call my dad to cry about it.
This isn’t about the kids. They have to make their own roads in life. Maybe someday they will understand how hurtful they have been, but I can’t live for that maybe day.
Today I’m just trying to keep my head above the water line, when all I want to do is go under.
The estate sale started on Thursday. I’m staying out of it except I have to drive over there twice a day to do the alarm. It makes me feel massively guilty, that strangers are going through Andy’s stuff, Andy’s house.
The estate handlers are professionals. The inside of the house looks like a showroom, with display tables of neatly organized items. It’s just all so wrong, all so tidy.
After the sale is over, we can finally get in and get the house ready. I’ve decided to rent it out for a while instead of selling it, that brings its own flavor of guilt.
I don’t know why I feel so guilty. I’m not doing anything Dad wouldn’t have wanted me to do. It’s just that it all still feels like his stuff, like he’s still here somehow.
I suppose this is natural. There will be a whole year of occasions where it will be the first without Andy. It’s part of the grieving process.
Today, the G is winning.
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June 11, 2014
Evergreen
There’s a lot to learn about blogging. I’ve been doing it almost two years now and I learn something new practically everyday.
Recently, one of my posts struck a chord with many readers. The Fat Chick’s Guide To Physical Fitness spoke to many people. One reader, who is also a bloggist and author, suggested I turn that post into an ebook.
She explained to me about evergreen content, how some topics are always current. Many bloggists expand popular evergreen post into successful non-fiction books. It something she did to help fund her fiction projects, and one thing most fiction writers need is funding.
It’s an intriguing idea. It’s also a pretty nifty writing challenge, since I’m in stasis with Travellers and Tramps. So I’m giving it a go. I’ve done almost eight thousand words in the last two days and want to see if I can get the first draft done in a week.
I’m well on target, Travellers. It’s possible I needed this challenge so I could clear my mind for T&T. Things have been jumbled in my head for a while, a non-fiction project is just the ticket.
I’ll keep you advised about my progress. If you would like to know more about evergreen content, check out this good post by clicking here.
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June 9, 2014
Prose Before Ho Hos
Hello Travellers!
Have you ever met someone who disagreed with you about virtually every social topic, argued with you at every turn and made sarcasm an art form? Are you, like me, now very good friends with that person?
Whiskey and Wheelguns on Amazon.com
Part of my Twitter gang is a group of word wielding troublemakers known collectively as Prose Before Ho Hos. Over on their site, the gents discuss various aspects of the manly art of writing.
Even though they know I’m not manly, they still generously invited me to do a guest post on their blog. The PB4HHs’ have a collection of recently released books, known collectively as Whisky and Wheelguns. I, in a fit of madness, offered to give them a review. My post today is about the insanity of reviewing your friends.
Check out Whiskey and Wheelguns on Amazon. While you’re mulling it over, buy a copy of The Last Prospector too. Your actions could very well make grown men and women squeal like girls at a One Direction concert.
Available on Amazon.com
Read THE MANLY ART OF TAKING IT IN THE BALLS on PROSE BEFORE HO HOS
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June 8, 2014
The C Word
It’s confidence, you perverts. And it’s good to have mine back.
If you ask 10 people what they consider an attractive personality trait in others, eight of them will say confidence. ( One will say sense of humor and the other will abstain because they are looking to settle down with a doormat.)
It’s possible I was born with a genetic predisposition towards self confidence. It also could have been my mom’s doing, she tended to over enthuse about her children’s “gifts”. I don’t think it was Mom, most people’s moms are like that, if you’re lucky.
Is self confidence primarily learned or just something we’re born with? A quick Twitter poll showed that many people think it’s nurture over nature.
@CairnRodrigues Nurture. I have read studies that show you can build confidence in people through support and encouragement.
— Jason Cantrell (@CantrellJason) June 8, 2014
@CairnRodrigues Learned. And honestly, it’s probably no so much Self Confidence as it is just not giving a shit what other people think. — Robb Allen (@ItsRobbAllen) June 8, 2014
I don’t agree. Native self confidence isn’t something you can learn, some of us are born that way. But I am by no means dismissing learned self confidence. That’s a tough thing to teach yourself and my hat is off to all who’ve managed it.
Self confidence is an attractive trait, but by no means an express ticket to success. Virginia Woolf managed without much.
The key is one’s definition of success, I suppose. If your goal is to be more confident, then oodles of it should be enough to sustain you through any kind of life. Perhaps the difference between learned and natural self confidence is that some learn it to go places in life while others use it to make the most of where they are in life.
It’s just a theory, so sound off if you have an opinion.
For me, confidence isn’t a component of my personality. It’s a natural part of me, like a thumb. When it’s missing, I feel incomplete and somewhat invisible.
Mine is back now. I feel whole and healthy again. Yesterday, some kid passing me on a bike felt obliged to yell out to all that I’m fat. It didn’t abash, shame or really affect me. It did piss me off briefly, so I yelled back, “WELL DUH!”
I am fat, I must be if I wrote a blog about it 
True self confidence can’t be undermined by anybody but you. I let mine go, and that’s all on me. It’s back now, and I’m more insufferable than ever.
I’d like to know what you think. Are you naturally self confident? Good at faking it? Just over it all? Sound off in the comments!
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June 6, 2014
Askew Reviews
Have you missed Askew Questions? Me too! I’ve been fiddling around with it lately, retooling it, and it will come back eventually.
If you’ll refer back to an earlier blog post this week, you’ll note that I’m trying the book marketing system laid out by Tim Grahl in Your First 1,000 Copies.
Tim has several key points to remember, but I’m taking his program methodically. Primarily, he’s a big believer in mailing lists and newsletters.
Hopefully by now, you have seen the glorious popup I toiled on all day yesterday. Hopefully.
If so, I hope you’ll consider signing up for Askew Reviews. It will be a twice monthly newsletter offering reviews of books, movies, TV, products and websites. Askew Reviews only features the goods, if it’s bad I won’t do any bashing, just ignoring.
There will also be occasional contests, games, updates on publishing and chances to win signed copies of The Last Prospector.
Reviews won’t be confined to only the newest releases. There’s a huge amount of entertainment out there, old, new and in between. If I find something good, I’ll be sure to pass it on along with my somewhat skewed sensibilities.
Intrigued? Concerned? Just want to shut me up? Those are all fair reasons to sign up.
Please, come get askewed with me!
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June 5, 2014
Video Virality
Making videos is both fun and easy. It must be easy, ’cause I’m doing it :-o
After the skydive, I edited some of that video into a vlog for Fiction Frenzy TV. As of this writing, it’s been viewed over 1,000 times. It may not sound like much, but it did cause a tiny spike in book sales. Thanks again to FFTV and Anne-Rae Vasquez for inviting me!
Here is the full skydiving video. It was shot by a lovely, and somewhat crazy, woman called Breezy at the Lodi Dive Center.
And since I’ve hauled out the photo album, here’s my most viewed video.
And, as promised earlier this week, a video of my cat.
Happy Thursday, Travellers!
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