Michael Eging's Blog: The Silver Horn Echoes and Assorted Other Tales, page 3

Time and Geography in Song of Roland

Reposted from my Goodreads blog dated August 27, 2017. I wanted to consolidate a bit, and bring this post over to our author website as well.

I was reading some background on the Battle of Roncevaux today with my son, William, which occurred on August 15, 778. During that battle, the rearguard was ambushed and those events set in motion the retelling of the tale that would be sung by the army of William the Conqueror on the eve of the Battle of Hastings. Yet, La Chanson de Roland has some issues with time that we attempted in The Silver Horn Echoes to account for.

You see, in 778, Charles the Great (or Charlemagne) was a man in his early 30s. He had just fought the Lombards in Italy for control of the northern portions of the peninsula. He was yet to bring further Italian territory under control. Then on Christmas Day 800, while he knelt in prayer, Charles was crowned emperor of the Romans by Pope Leo III.

Why is this important?

The Chanson de Roland sets up a fictional world where the Battle of Roncevaux takes place when Charles is already the emperor. In the poem, Charles is both emperor and king. The title was usually bestowed (though jealously) by the Eastern Empire in Constantinople. Further, Charles is old and wizened, with a long flowing white beard.

So when writing The Silver Horn Echoes, both in screenplay and novel forms, there were some creative choices to make. First, we could build a world that was more historically accurate and place Charles and his vassal Roland earlier in his career. Or we could go with the world spun by the poem and create a world in which the events of the Song of Roland are plausible. I chose the latter.

This creative choice allowed for two things. First, to remain truer to the telling in the epic poem. Second, there is a lurking danger in The Silver Horn Echoes represented by a very jealous and manipulative Byzantine Empire. You see, when the pope crowned Charles, the usual negotiations with and permissions from the Empire did not occur. After the crowning, Charles was thrown into negotiations with the Empire to legitimize the title. So we were able to use the world created by the poet and accomplish a retelling that focuses on an older Charles and his taking up the mantle after 800.

The Silver Horn Echoes: A Song of Roland is a work of fiction that is inspired by the mythical world of La Chanson de Roland. Thus, as storytellers, we pay homage to the battle of 778, but are not completely bound by the events. This allowed us to use characters and constructs from the poem, rather than be strictly bound by the historical record.

We hope you enjoy the creative choice. And we hope that it inspires you to learn more about the actual events surrounding the Battle of Roncevaux in 778.

http://myBook.to/SilverHornEchoes

Promotion of an Indie Book

With the release of The Silver Horn Echoes: A Song of Roland, we have once more begun to navigate the mass of distribution channels as a means to getting the book into the hands of readers in their own local bookstore. Working with Ingram and other distributors is no guarantee that wholesalers and chains will carry the book, even with a return policy in place. So, this book will be Steve and my test with marketing in a much broader sense than anything we've ever done before.

What avenues have we found to promote our book?

Of course, we have reached out to bloggers and book reviewers to navigate the processes that each of them have for accepting a book to review. Many of the bloggers and reviewers are very supportive of indie work, however, due to the broad nature of the indie world, many have waded through books that were not edited or executed with a high level of professionalism. So, some reviewers and bloggers have limited the indie work they currently review. Of course, this is an issue that should be addressed in books long before they reach the hands of the reviewer.

Over the past week, we've began sending introduction packages to small, independent booksellers. You know, the community mom-and-pop book stores that smell of worn pages and adventure. The Silver Horn Echoes has captured the imagination of stores thus far who have agreed to carry the book. My daughter, who is starting her freshman year at a local college, has become our chief marketer and publicist. She enjoys the challenge and loves bookstores--a match made in heaven.

Another route, again, with some success is to schedule book signings with independent bookstores. We supply the posters, the shoe leather in promotion (particularly earned media), and the door prizes. The bookstore, hopefully, will see a bump in foot traffic. Our best responses thus far have been comic shops. Yes, comic shops. Our cover was created by an artist who has experience with major comic publishers. Many shop owners gravitate immediately to the cover, and then we book an afternoon signing. Stay tuned, we will be announcing them here!

Well, we don't have a best seller yet. But we do have a plan and are in the middle of execution. We'll keep you updated on our progress. If you happen to see a signing or book fair appearance in your neck of the woods, please stop by and say "hello!"

Time and Space in Song of Roland

I was reading some background on the Battle of Roncevaux today with my son, William, which occurred on August 15, 778. During that battle, the rearguard was ambushed and those events set in motion the retelling of the tale that would be sung by the army of William the Conqueror on the eve of the Battle of Hastings. Yet, La Chanson de Roland has some issues with time that we attempted in The Silver Horn Echoes to account for.

You see, in 778, Charles the Great (or Charlemagne) was a man in his early 30s. He had just fought the Lombards in Italy for control of the northern portions of the peninsula. He was yet to bring further Italian territory under control. Then on Christmas Day 800, while he knelt in prayer, Charles was crowned emperor of the Romans by Pope Leo III.

Why is this important?

The Chanson de Roland sets up a fictional world where the Battle of Roncevaux takes place when Charles is already the emperor. In the poem, Charles is both emperor and king. The title was usually bestowed (though jealously) by the Eastern Empire in Constantinople. Further, Charles is old and wizened, with a long flowing white beard.

So when writing The Silver Horn Echoes, both in screenplay and novel forms, there were some creative choices to make. First, we could build a world that was more historically accurate and place Charles and his vassal Roland earlier in his career. Or we could go with the world spun by the poem and create a world in which the events of the Song of Roland are plausible. I chose the latter.

This creative choice allowed for two things. First, to remain truer to the telling in the epic poem. Second, there is a lurking danger in The Silver Horn Echoes represented by a very jealous and manipulative Byzantine Empire. You see, when the pope crowned Charles, the usual negotiations with and permissions from the Empire did not occur. After the crowning, Charles was thrown into negotiations with the Empire to legitimize the title. So we were able to use the world created by the poet and accomplish a retelling that focuses on an older Charles and his taking up the mantle after 800.

The Silver Horn Echoes: A Song of Roland is a work of fiction that is inspired by the mythical world of La Chanson de Roland. Thus, as storytellers, we pay homage to the battle of 778, but are not completely bound by the events. This allowed us to use characters and constructs from the poem, rather than be strictly bound by the historical record.

We hope you enjoy the creative choice. And we hope that it inspires you to learn more about the actual events surrounding the Battle of Roncevaux in 778.

http://myBook.to/SilverHornEchoes

The Silver Horn Echoes: A Song of Roland

Well, lot's of changes since I've written last. I admit that keeping up with a blog can be a daunting task, particularly when working full time at a job that brings me great satisfaction as well as writing in my free time. And free time has been short of late.

Yet there is progress... beginning with a new novel, The Silver Horn Echoes: A Song of Roland. This has been a labor of love for me. You see, the Song of Roland has been with me since I was very young. My grandfather, a sailor in the Danish merchant marine, came to this country as a young man. And he determined he would be more American than the Americans. To a young man from rural Denmark, this meant finishing his education and becoming well read. This meant that as a youth, our house was always filled with grandpa's books on mythology, important events, folklore, etc. My favorite read? A translation of Song of Roland.

So here I am, full circle with Roland and his Peers, having written a feature film that became my first Hollywood option and now a novel based on that script and inspired by the Chanson de Roland. Speaking for my writing partner and myself, we hope you enjoy the book. The cover art is gorgeously executed by Jordan Raskin, a talented Los Angeles based artist who has also done some concept work on other projects I'm involved with.

Stay tuned for more announcements, a new website and much more!

The Silver Horn Echoes: A Song of Roland

Why a Short Story?

What's In A Name?: Tales from the Lost Horizon

Over the past few weeks, a few posts/reviews of my short story What's In A Name? expressed the sentiment that this short story should be expanded and written as a novel.

Of course, such responses to an epic fantasy short made me think about why I love short stories and chose to wrote this piece as a short, rather than a novel.

I cut my teeth as a kid reading Robert E. Howard, Michael Moorcock and Ray Bradbury short stories. These shorts were at times epic in nature - full of world building, fantastic situations, monsters, lore, etc. Some were set in far future worlds, others in the more mundane present or realities scattered across the multiverse. The decision to write What's In A Name? as a short story began with the very conception of the tale.

The story started for a college class. The challenge at the time was to create a character in which growth would be seen throughout the short story arc. Vondrall of course became that central character who grew from an unseasoned officer to someone who would inspire his comrades by the end of the short story. The short story format provided a focused palate where he could shine. Thus the nature of the quest, the selection of the company, the journey across the world, etc. really are just background for the growth of the character which occurs in the pages of the short story.

I rewrote the short story extensively over the last year. This time, there was another layer to the short story that developed in a very focused sense. The journey of a young, inexperienced leader who finds faith and light while struggling against ultimate darkness. Again, as a short story, this element becomes a contrast with the character who, by his own acclamation, should have emerged victoriously from the quest.

Short stories are very different than novels. They are intensely polished for story arc, character development and word selection. Each element woven into the story serves a purpose because the length inherently doesn't always provide page space for novel length explorations. What's In A Name? immerses you into a world as ambitious as those contained in Howard's Cimmerian or Moorcock's Eternal Champion shorts. The journey is much more focused than a novel. On purpose. Elements that stand out in the current story may have been lost or muted in a novel. Writing this short piece actually allowed me great freedom to tell Vondrall's tale. Because of the length, I could focus on humor, character interactions that filled in back story and drove the narrative ahead. Then with streamlined construction, I hope the comparison between two lead characters comes into sharp focus by the end of the tale.

I like to think I'm a capable storyteller, able to take the material and write a novel from it. I've done that with Annwyn's Blood, which also began as a brief vampire short story then exploded into a fully developed novel. However, I'm not sure I will do that with this tale. I am very flattered with the desire to expand the story. At present, I'm already sketching a follow-up short story, set in the same world and re-examining the impact of the events chronicled in What's In A Name?

Would the story be better served as a novel? I'll leave you to be the judge of that.

Thank you to everyone who has downloaded and enjoyed this short story. For those of you who haven't read it yet, here is the link!

What's In A Name?

My daughter, who encouraged me to start this, is cheering me on to release another short from Tales of the Lost Horizon so stay tuned. I am excited to share them with you.

Help Save A Historic Home!

I have been very consumed of late with the crazed life that keeps me on the road, up late rewriting a screenplay and novel, and being a dad. But over the past few weeks, I've though a lot about home. Not just home with my wife and family (who I adore).

You see, I grew up in an area of the country where I couldn't wait to escape when I graduated from High School. My grandfather, my father and my two brothers are all from Chardon, Ohio. I spent long summer days on Chardon Square mowing lawns, painting houses and being a kid. My grandmother owned one of the few remaining original homes on the Square, so I watched as many of the other grand homes were torn down to support progress (replaced with parking lots, blacktop and tacky 70s era commercial buildings).

Fortunately, as an adult, I came to appreciate this wonderful town and even a few years ago, while writing a feature film script (set in this town), was able to relocate my family there for a few years. What wonderful memories we have together in my childhood hometown. And my grandmother's old home, built in 1836, was there as a landmark that people would reference when giving directions. My children were regaled in stories of generations past who lived in homes that are no longer with us.

Chardon remains my hometown, even though we relocated back to Virginia for employment a few years ago. We are there throughout the year to take care of family, visit friends, share old stories and keep the spirit of that place alive in my children.

Recently, we learned of plans to tear down this wonderful historic home that not only anchors my family to the town, but also is loved by many in the community. During a difficult period of time in the early 20th century, there was a fire on Chardon Square that burned down the original courthouse. Fortunately, the county recorder lived across the street in this same home and saved many valuable and historic records. After WWII when the town's young men and women returned from a horrific war, a young Vet and recipient of the Silver Star in the Battle of the Rhineland lived in the home and launched into a career in real estate from that location. This home became a gateway to the Geauga County community for 40 years. Many have expressed gratitude for this man's kindness in helping them find joy in Chardon and Geauga County.

A historic home, built in 1836, which has survived historic storms, blizzards, fire and earthquakes. A historic home that saw young men and women return from the Civil War, WWI, WWII, Korea, Vietnam, and our modern era. A landmark that is all that remains of a residential grandeur long lost to Chardon - all that remains of the historic neighborhood on the Square is scheduled to be demolished for a parking lot.

http://chardonsquareassociation.org/h...

I am not always this sentimental. But, my children and many more children in the community have one example of this period left on the "historic" Square. And this heritage home that has survived nearly 200 years will soon be no more.

Please help us send a message to policymakers in Geauga County and Chardon, OH that heritage matters. Once we lose that last remaining 200 year old home an important link to our past will be gone. Enclosed is a link to a petition. Please take 1 minute and help us keep 200 years of history.

https://www.change.org/p/geauga-count...

And thank you.

Tales Shared in Days Gone Past

I was recently talking with my daughter who related to me some of my own stories created and written when she was a young child. She has since graduated from college and is now living and working far from home. The time she recalls occurred when my wife and I were still in college. During that time, I was excited by the worlds opened to me through my study of medieval history and English. As a writer, it was one of the most productive periods of my life, writing short stories and poetry that filled late 1980's era hard drives. We traveled from Utah to attend graduate school at the University of Maryland, College Park to study with a preeminent scholar of Byzantine and early Russian history. And all the while, I wrote.

In the evening, I would spin tales for her and her brother of worlds far from our own, populated by lost kings, intrepid elves and paladin knights. Many of those stories sprung from my imagination, others from the pages of Tolkien, Lewis and Alexander. Each character had unique voices and I tried to find those voices, often to their delight. Giants with craggly deep voices, brave heroes with stolid, confident voices, etc. Usually my feeble efforts dissolved into laughter, yet we discovered worlds beyond our own within those pages.

Last night, my son wrestled with an assignment focused on Quixote where the author of an article postulated that changing the author (Cervantes) altered the depth and perspective of the work, even if the words remained exactly the same. I asked him, if you didn't know the author had changed - does it even matter - for the story remains. I postulated that possibly the reader has greater power over the written page by bringing imagination to the effort. The power to speak in different voices, imagine faces and identify unique ticks and place characters in fully developed lands even more fantastical than what the page conveys.

My children still remember stories told to them with my very rudimentary acting abilities. But what I thought to be just a father's attempts had became magical memories to them. They remind me of them as I wrestle with rewrites of rewrites. To them, the hard work was already done. They have imagined the worlds already. It's now upon dad to share them with all of you. Lessons I've learned from my children.

The Origins of Annwyn’s Blood

During the fall semester of 1985, I enrolled in a science fiction and fantasy creative writing class at Brigham Young University. The professor, one “Doc” Smith, required the class to write a new story weekly. Each assignment focused on an element of storytelling—one week focused on character, setting, plot, etc. So each week a crop of tales were submitted by the class that plumbed the various aspects of a short story.

With the arrival of setting week, I found myself wrestling with a variety of settings, but needed them to be the story’s anchor. And what could be more critical to a vampire fantasy tale than the setting? Creepy in my mind equated shadows, misty rain, thunder and lighting, etc. But not in the Hollywood sort of way where lightening cracks at a specified cue to highlight the drama (or lack thereof). Rather, I wanted the setting to become a hurdle to the hero, a young knight on a quest, something to be overcome along with the villain of the tale. Thus the setting was woven into the story not only as an overarching hurdle, but also as a key element during the conflict with the villain.

The short story, One Dark Knight, told the tale of Erik of Birkenshire and his quest to free the princess, fight the good fight and ride off into the sunset. However, in it’s original form, it left open that something wasn’t quite right with the rescued princess—and that something could bite the young knight in the future.

After graduating from Brigham Young, I began graduate school at the University of Maryland, College Park, with a focus in Russian/Byzantine history. It was during this time that I contacted my life long friend and oft collaborator, Steve Arnold, and work on Annwyn’s Blood began. When completed, we shopped the novel to agents, publishing houses and anyone who expressed interest. However, the feedback in the mid-1990s was all very much the same. Thank you for a great read. But who wants yet another vampire novel? We hope you will send your next manuscript to us.

By the early 2000’s, both Steve and I were up to our eyeballs raising families and shifting focus in terms of our writing. Sometime around 2005, I put aside an unfinished fantasy novel to write the feature film screenplay, Song of Roland. Following that, Steve and I collaborated on the story for a WWII thriller screenplay entitled Blood Money. Both scripts launched us into writing a horror script that is currently in development, Feast of St. Nicholas. However, Annwyn’s Blood remained unpublished.

In 2012, while salvaging folders on a failing hard drive, I found an old version of Annwyn’s Blood. It needed a lot of TLC to revise and finalize for publication. Both Steve and I decided that it had remained hidden long enough and that after a polish, we would let readers decide if it was worth continuing on this journey. In late 2013, after many rewrites, professional edits, comments from beta-readers, etc., we turned the manuscript over to Amazon and other online distributors. Nearly 20 years after the first manuscript, the story saw the light of day.

Inspiration

I sit alone to contemplate
the workings of a muse.
Yet the pages still seem blank, and
I wonder what's the use.
Dante wrote of hell and fire,
and Tennyson his table round.
I cry to find my purpose,
where it can be found.
My soul yearns to speak in power,
and call mankind to hear.
Fingers struggle to write the words,
weaving the strands of wyrd.
Is there some texture, a feeling
I can grasp or touch?
When it dangles on the fingertips,
I've found it and am lost.

Of Princes and Heroes!

Annwyn's Blood

Annwyn’s Blood has its share of heroes and villains that you recognize as soon as you see them chew up the scenery. However, one character in particular developed to be far more than we imagined when we began this journey. Aldonzo, the pampered prince from Southern Gaul is not your typical heroic character. Yet, as the story develops, he finds strength within himself to carry on following some horrific events. The following is an excerpt from Annwyn’s Blood, highlighting this fish-out-of-water prince.

"Sail to port!"

Aldonzo didn't dare look up from scrubbing the deck. Ever since the previous evening, when he had been dragged aboard this miserable tub, his stomach had been turning in continuous knots. But he didn't dare vomit. He'd seen a very graphic example the previous evening of what could happen if he did.

There had been an old slave aboard who'd suffered badly at the hands of the pirates—battered and bruised, cursed and tormented constantly. The extent of the abuse had been obvious to Aldonzo from the moment he had laid eyes on the wretch. But in the midst of the evening mess the oldster suffered a fit of coughing that ended in a vomit of bright red blood splattered across the Captain’s plate.

Fearful that he suffered from consumption (not to mention outraged at the slave's audacity to spit up on the captain's food) the pirates killed him on the spot before he could infect any others in the crew. So Aldonzo fought down the waves of nausea that washed over him. There was no telling what the pirates might think he could have.

He held no illusions why he, alone out of the entire expedition, had been kept alive. All the others had been merely soldiers. Even Kien, stout, dependable Kien, had been nothing more than another trooper to them. Aldonzo, on the other hand, was different—he was ransom material. He was nobility, from a rich, landed family with ties in both Britain and Gaul. The pirates knew well they could expect a healthy reward for his safe return.

Ha, he thought bitterly. Qualify that ‘safe’ return to mean simply in one workable piece. They beat him thoroughly to find out who he might be, and, much to his disgust and shame, he told them. He'd always imagined that in such a situation he would be filled with iron-willed resolve to oppose his foe, who would have to kill him before anything of use could be revealed. Some hero, he thought ruefully. But he had never imagined reality to be so brutal.

His left hand throbbed in its rough bandage where they had severed his finger to remove his ring.

So it was that when the lookout reported the sail of another ship, Aldonzo just kept his head down, his right hand scrubbing despite the splinters and lye, his left cradled against his chest. He fervently hoped the ship approaching would be one of Cynric's war vessels. But even that hope hung by a thread. The Anglan king possessed little by way of a navy and lacked sufficient skilled sailors to use even what he did have. And even if he had, they seldom ventured this far from land.

He kept at his work, removing the accumulated filth of regular neglect, working his way aft from the stem to the mast and listening to the shouts and orders around him. Yes, it was a trader's vessel and, yes, it attempted to evade this vessel crawling with unkempt reavers. The other captain probably knew this ship for what it was even before it sailed into smelling distance. Slow and cumbersome, the merchant’s ship would be no match for the faster raiders' vessel. All around Aldonzo, the brigands prepared themselves for yet another plunder, yet more death.

From his position by the helm, the first mate shouted orders, and the distance between the ships closed. Aldonzo glanced up. The other ship teemed with passengers—Saxon settlers in search of a new life in Britain. The other sailors hustled women and children below the decks. The crew and male passengers strapped on leather-covered bucklers and hefted weapons, arming for the impending attack.

Aldonzo put his head back down and slowly crept across the deck to the starboard side, away from the other ship. Deck crew cursed and kicked him as they ran past whether he was in the way or not. Others heaved ropes up from the hold and tied on the grappling hooks. Then the brigands clustered so tightly on the port rail that the ship heeled from the weight.

Due to an unfavorable wind, the fleeing ship wallowed a bit, wind spilling from her sail, and the pirates cut through the waves to close the distance. Aldonzo's stomach churned with apprehension. The helmsman appeared not to be as skilled as he had thought, taking an unfavorable approach, but it only prolonged the gut-wrenching anticipation of the inevitable, and Aldonzo’s innards had had about all they could take.

A great shout broke from the pirates as the grappling hooks sailed through the air to the other ship's gunwales. Some caught, some didn't. But enough held to allow the raiders to start hauling the ships together by hand.

The defenders wasted no time hacking at the ropes, but the pirates constantly pitched out more hooks as archers picked off the defenders. Steadily, the ships rocked closer together, and with a great crash and grinding they struck sides. Brigands poured over the bulwarks to the other deck. The Saxons made a fight of it, but Aldonzo, peeking over a coil of rope, clearly saw they would not be the victors of the brutal engagement.

There were only a few experienced seamen on the Saxon ship; most of the rest were only farmers and had no sea legs. Their difficulty in keeping their feet on the pitching deck proved to be fatal. The Saxons briefly rallied near the afterdeck, but the stand was cut short when those pirates occupied with finishing off the Saxons in the fore completed their task and moved rearward to reinforce the aft contingent.

The entire battle lasted only minutes. Then the real killing began.