Dave Skinner's Blog, page 3

Coming of Age

Coming of Age
‘The time when a person becomes an adult,’ is a broad definition of the term, coming of age. Another is, ‘the attainment of prominence, respectability, recognition, or maturity.’ Many novels have depicted the process. A few of the better known are; A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess, Oranges are not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson. Goodbye Columbus, by Philip Roth, The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole by Sue Townsend, and The Catcher in the Ryeby J. D. Salinger. The term was first used in the year 1729, but has the meaning changed since then? I think it has changed for me.For many years my understanding of coming of age meant becoming an adult by leaving your teen years behind, but I now think it involves a longer period. Ask yourself when you became an adult. I’m sure it wasn’t the day you reached the age of majority. When I was researching this information, I came across a comment about The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole which stated it would appeal to boys of the 15-16 years of age, or men of 30 or 40. Coming of age is more than ageing from teen to young adult. Maturity has to considered, and maturity is not a number.When I published, My Father’s Swords, the first novel in my Warriors, Heroes, and Demons series, I called it a coming of age story, but although it fits the popular definition of the term, it is not the complete story because that took three novels to tell. The three Warriors, Heroes, and Demons novels encompasses the complete coming of age story.
My Father’s Swordsrecounts the story from childhood to teen years. Bray is eight when the story starts and eighteen when it ends. Ran is two years his senior. Mearisdeana never reveals her age, but she is in that range.

Travellers, the second book in the series, follows Bray, Ran, and Mearisdeana through their young adult years. It tells the stories of the personal turmoil, the internal struggles of that period. Love is found and lost, identity is questioned; who am I, what am I, where do I belong? The road through the young adult years is intense, arduous, and often filled with violence and pain.
In Confluence of Swords, the third book of the series, the characters continue their growth as they face the trials life throws at them and work to overcome decision made and actions taken in their youth. Adulthood is within sight. Responsibility is accepted. The end of the road is near in more ways than one as they come of age.

Illustration for Confluence of Swords

The third novel in my Warriors, Heroes, and Demons series, Confluence of Swords, includes the following illustration by Laurie O'Reilly. I had her leave it as an outline because I am including it as a full page at the end of the novel, as well as a smaller picture in the text, so that it can be coloured if the reader is so inclined.

Cover reveal for Confluence of Swords

The third novel in the Warriors, Heroes, and Demons series, Confluence of Swords will be release next month (February) if all goes well. Here is the cover.

Of friends and fiends

Of friends and fiendsI have never seen a place with so many wards placed around it. Luckily, I am good at detecting them, having helped my Master place many as an apprentice wizard, and good at bypassing them because of my experience as a thief.“If these wards are the extent of the Wizards’ Bain challenge,” Karack, my demon companion, said, “my opinion of wizards is going down lower than it already is.”“They are pretty simple,” I agreed. “I think they are here to hide the place and keep out the uninvited.”“Like you?”“I suppose I am one of the uninvited.”“You suppose? When I ate that wizard’s brain and absorbed his memories I did not find a single thought about inviting you to this challenge. I admit thoughts are different from memories, so I might have missed it. Most of his immediate concerns focused on the fact that I was a demon, and the realization that his binding spell had not worked.”“Your point is taken. I am one of the uninvited, but I have been trained to magic, so I consider myself as one of the invited no matter how my knowledge of the Bain was gained.” We bypassed a simple befuddling spell meant to turn a person around and point them back the way they had come with no knowledge of what had changed. It was well done, but easy to bypass. All we had to do was initiate a sound dampening spell—one of the few uses for that spell considering the ringing in your ears that accompanies its use.We beat the next ward with an invisibility spell, and the one after that with a glamour spell that made us look like animals. I was a faun and Karack was a bear. Glamour spells are simpler when you don’t have to deal with hiding extra mass, but Karack did his, so I didn’t have to worry about his bulk. The next spell was anything but simple.“What was that?” Karack said. We both stopped walking.“I felt something, but I don’t know what it was,” I said. “Back up some.” When I tried to step backwards, I ran into a solid barrier. “I can’t go back.”“Neither can I,” Karack added.“I guess when an apprentice gets this far, backing out is no longer an option.” “That is one possibility.” I looked at him. He was looking towards the sky. “I wonder how high this thing goes,” he mused as his wings unfurled. He rose ungracefully into the sky. Demon fly with a frump, frump movement where they drop a little between each beat of their wings. Flying cows would be more graceful. Karack was back on the ground in moments.“There is no way over it which adds to the mystery.”“What are you talking about?”He looked at me with an expression that said dumb human. An expression he used too often in my opinion.“If the barrier is meant to keep an apprentice from backing out as you have suggested, why is it keeping me in as well?”“I see what you mean. A barrier that will stop a demon is different from one that is meant to stop an apprentice wizard unless demons use this place for testing as well.” He gave me that, dumb human, look again.“Demons don’t get tested like this.”“Are there any clues in the memories you acquired?”“I will check. In the meantime we should continue on.”I readied a couple of blasting spells, an invisibility spell, and a climbing spell, in case I needed to get up into a tree. The woods we traversed was made up of tall evergreens which had few if any branches low enough for me to reach without aid. Karack had taught me the blasting spells. I already knew the invisibility spell and the climbing spell. I am a thief after all. I also knew one blaster spell, but it was one that all apprentice wizards are taught for protection, simple and not as deadly as Karack’s were.That was one of the things I had noticed about Karack’s magic. It is used to cause harm. Human wizards use magic for many purposes. Attack and defense spells are a small part of their repertoire. Demon magic is darker, more sinister. They are adept at drawing energy for items like lamps and creatures like will-o'-the-wisps. Karack snacked on a few of those as we made our way here, sucked the ghost fire right out of them.We made our way carefully through the woods until we came to a cleared area around a walled city. At first the deserted state of the place wasn’t readily apparent. The walls and the open gate we could see as we approached looked solid, but up close we saw that the place was covered in cobwebs. Even the flag that drooped lifelessly above the gate was covered in webs. Only one of the two gates was open, and the opening it left was full of webs.“We should look for a different gate,” I said.“Why?”“Look at the webs. No one has been through that gateway in ages. My old Master told me that one or two apprentices come here every year. They must enter somewhere else.”“Unless they climb the wall,” Karack suggested.“It looks like a difficult climb. Nice stone work with flush seams makes for hard climbing.”“I wouldn’t know,” Karack said. “I would just fly to the top.”“Why don’t you fly up there and take a look around?”Karack unfolded his wings, shook them out, and beat his way into the sky. He looks so ungainly when he flies, so I expected him to head straight for the top of the wall and perch there, but he surprised me. He flew above the wall and disappeared from sight, returning to view a few moments later before landing back beside me.“It looks like a deserted city. Nothing is moving about. No smoke from chimneys. No sounds.” He waited for me to say something, but not for long.“What are you waiting for?” he asked.“I don’t like the webs. They don’t make sense. How could other apprentices have entered without breaking them? Was there anything in the wizard’s memories that said what to do when we got here?”“Nothing.”“I want to climb the wall.”“You will be climbing in the dark if you wait any longer.”Karack was right. Shadows were beginning to lengthen. I pulled up my climbing spell and tweaked it for a wall instead of a tree. I walked to the wall, activated the spell, and climbed. I heard Karack’s wings pushing air but didn’t look. When I reached the top, he was standing on a walkway that ran along the inside of the wall just below the crenulation. I joined him.There was a small building located above the gates, The entrance to it was full of cobwebs, but luckily the stairway to the courtyard was located before the entrance to the building. We descended. The silence of the place made our footsteps sound loud to my ears. Reaching the ground, we moved away from the wall until we were closer to the centre of the courtyard.“What now?” Karack asked.“I have no idea,” I admitted. “I remember my old Master saying that an apprentice must enter the city, but not spend the night there. I think we should look around. Maybe there’s a wall or a scroll I have to write my name on. Or I could look for something I can take that proves I was here. This domed building looks important. Let’s look there.”We made our way to the stairs that led up to the doors. I am reluctant to call it a palace although some aspects were clearly meant to impress a visitor. Immense gold columns held up a roof that jutted out from the wall offering shelter when someone stood at the doorway.  The columns were painted instead of covered in gold leaf as I had hoped. The double doors stood slightly ajar, and the opening they created was clear of webs. A feature Karack pointed out to me while I was studying the carvings on the doors. “It supports your idea of people climbing the walls to get in instead of using the gates. What do you make of the relief on the doors?” I had my opinion, but I wanted his take on them as well.“The central figure could be a high priest. The sphere he is holding up is probably a gem or a magical orb. Everything else looks to be animals and people. I don’t like the style of the sculpture. It makes everything except the main man look skinny and close to death.”“What about all the other orbs on the surrounding floor?”“Maybe they symbolize wealth or prosperity that he is offering to the others. Like he’s saying take an orb and be like me.”“I get the same impression. It suggests to me that an apprentice is supposed to come here, find an orb, and take it away.”“So we should go in and look for a pile of orbs?”I made a light and floated it above my head. We walked to the opening, and I sent the light through. It cast a circle of illumination on the floor. Nothing happened, so we entered. Evening was coming on quickly outside, but it was already dark within. I motioned my light back to my hand and then tossed it up into the air. At the same time I spoke the words to increase the glow.It was a large domed room with a raised altar in the centre on which the body of a man rested. Possibly the same one depicted on the doors. A clear glass orb rested on his chest. On the floor around the platform were other orbs. We crept forward.“Is that a carving or a body?” I asked when we were close.“I detect no life force,” Karack replied. “But the details are amazing if it was carved. I would suggest some type of preservation spell coming from the orb. There is plenty of power contained in it.”I knelt down and examined the other orbs. They were clear like the one in the bowl, but I could not detect any power coming from them. Every wizard I have ever met owns a crystal ball, but I have never seen one for sale. I stood and looked around. The room was empty except for the orbs, the altar, and the figure.“I’m taking an orb,” I told Karack.“Good idea. I believe that is what the relief on the doors suggests you do.”I knelt down and pulled the sleeve of my shirt over my hand before giving one of the orbs a tentative touch. Nothing happened, so I opened my pouch, positioned it as close as possible and flipped an orb into it.“Let’s go,” I said. We retraced our steps to the doorway. I retracted my light, and we left. In a short while we were back on top of the wall. Descending took longer than climbing up. Climbing spells are meant for going up. I had to be careful and move slowly as I went down. Karack used his flying cow routine to descend. I was thinking it would be nice to have wings when he must have become impatient with my snail pace descent. I was only about a third of the way down when he flew up and pulled me off the wall. We went down so fast I figured I was going to look like a cow flop when I landed. He landed with a thump and then lowered me to ground.“Thanks,” I managed to say, “but warn me next time.” He just laughed.“Next time use a float spell,” he advised.“I don’t know a spell that allows me to float.” He gave me that dumb human look.“Listen carefully. I don’t like to teach spells twice or three or four times as you seem to require.” That hurt my feelings, but I listened carefully as we walked away from the city.We made our way back to the woods without incident. The afternoon light was almost gone when we reached the barrier. I walked through it without realizing it was there, but it stopped Karack like it had stopped both of us before. When I tried to walk back to him it stopped me.“It has to be the orb,” I said, after considering the situation. “It can pass out but not in. Well not when someone is holding it. Let me try to throw it to you.”“Nice try,” Karack said when the orb failed to pass. “I think I have to go back and get one if I want to leave.”“It will be dark by the time you get there, and my Master said not to spend the night there.”“Your Master said apprentice wizards should not spend the night there. I am a demon. I see in the dark. I’ll be back before moon rise.”“I’ll build a fire,” I called to him as he headed back towards the city. “So you can find me when you get back.”I built a fire. The moon rose. Karack failed to return.I walked up to the barrier and marked the location with a stick in the ground. A question had occurred to me as I waited. Could I pass back through it if I wasn’t carrying the orb? I placed the orb back by my fire and walked carefully up to the barrier. When I reached out with one arm, it passed the stick with nothing but a slight tingle. I went back and picked up the orb and tried to reach past the barrier again. My arm stopped. I wrestled with my dilemma.How long should I wait? Should I leave? If I left the orb and crossed the barrier, it meant I had to return to the city to get another one. I might be risking my life for Karack. Did I want to do that? He is a demon after all. Sure, we have been together for some time now, but how much do I really owe him. Just because he saved me in the dungeon does that mean I’m in his debt? I saved him in the dungeon as well, so I think we are even on that count. But he had stayed with me since the dungeon even after we got our revenge. Why? Did Karack consider me a friend? Did I consider Karack a friend? I dowsed my fire, buried the orb in the ashes, and headed for Wizards’ Bain.The moon was well up when I reached the walls. I went to the gates and as I suspected the webs were gone. Karack must have walked through the webs. I was about to follow his example when I noticed the spiders busy rebuilding. Besides being big they stopped as I approached and glared at me, showing their fangs. I went to the wall and activated my climbing spell. From the top everything looked the same except for the light coming from the domed building. When I reached the building, I saw that the doors were open enough to allow a demon to pass, and I could see inside because of the light within.The figure was still on the altar only now it was standing with the orb held high. Lines of light streamed out from it going in every direction. The strongest went straight up and passed through an opening in the apex of the dome. That was the one I saw from the top of the wall. Another went straight to Karack who was spread eagle on the ground in front of the altar. Thin stick like creatures were dancing around him. They might have been men at one time, but their faces were contorted into fiendish features now. Their eyes were sunken deep into gaunt faces, and their teeth protruded like fangs. As they danced, the circle around Karack grew tighter.If I went in there to help Karack, I was going to end up a meal as well. I had to stop the man on the altar without encountering his minions. All the spells I knew were useless in this situation and trying to fight my way in meant certain death. Could I blast the man or the orb? No. They were too far away for the accuracy required. My eyes were drawn to the streams of light emanating from the orb and then up to the opening in the apex of the dome.Moving away from the doors I readied my climbing spell and made my way up the outside of the dome. I worked my way around in a circle as I climbed; stopping to place drops of my exploding oil where I figured it would work best. I keyed every drop to the word, up. I readied all three of the blasting spells Karack had taught me and the one I already knew. When I had everything ready, I set the floating spell Karack had just taught me. You would think that having just learned it I would feel confident about using it, but my heart was beating wildly as I stepped from the roof into the hole at the top of the dome.The spell worked. I floated lower barely a hands span from the light beam. Karack’s eyes were open, but I was too far away to see if he was aware of me. I held my arms straight down pointing between my feet at the orb and the man on the altar. I had a random thought as I descended that I would probably blast my feet off, but I pushed it aside. Luckily the dancing fiends were all concentrating on Karack. No one noticed me. I lined up my blasting spells in my mind and let them rip, one, two, the orb exploded, three, and the man’s head disintegrated. I shifted aim and blasted into the fiends just as I landed. Springing from the altar I saw Karack jump up with a roar and tear into the closest fiends. Destroying the man and the orb had released him as I had hoped. I grabbed two orbs from the floor.“Karack, head towards the door, I screamed.” He barged into the dancers between us and our escape knocking them out of the way. I followed closely behind him. Within jumping distance of the door I screamed the word, up, and the spells I had rigged on the roof exploded starting the whole dome crashing down. Karack and I didn’t stop running until we reached the top of the stairs that gave access to the top of the wall.  A few of the fiends were chasing us, but Karack blasted them as I activated my floating spell and leapt from the top of the wall. Karack passed me on the way down and was waiting for me when I landed. We ran. I looked back when we reached the woods, but nothing was following us.“Hold onto this,” I said as I passed him one of the orbs.“You came back for me,” he said.“That’s what friends do.”The End© Dave skinner 2017

Matty and the shoe

Matty made her mother madAnd this made her brother sad.Mother yelled at brother tooWhen Matty gave the dog the shoe.
Mother really liked the shoeUnfortunately, the dog did too.
The shoe was made of hide and suchThat the dog liked very much.When Matty threw the dog the shoeHe naturally began to chew.
Mother really liked the shoeUnfortunately, the dog did too.
Mother bought the shoe on saleHad just received it through the mail.She only got it yesterdayAnd still she had the bill to pay.
The dog was barking at the couchAnd mother found the noise too much.As she was talking on the phone.She said, “Matty, throw the dog his bone.”
Unfortunately the bone was lost.Matty needed something else to toss.So she threw the shoe across the roomAn action that spelt Doom, Doom, Doom.
Matty returned to her TV show.Mother said she didn’t have to go.The dog was quiet after allAnd brother was playing with a ball.
Brother really didn’t careWhat the dog was doing by the chair.And Matty she cared even lessAfter all she’d done her best.
When Mother’s phone call finally endedShe grabbed the shoe, but the dog defended.This resulted in a tug of warBrother laughed and Mother swore.
Mother finally won the warBut the dog went flying across the floor.Matty screamed and said, “You beast,”She was grounded for a month at least.
Brother, innocent from the startContinued to laugh, which wasn’t smart.Mother turned on Brother as wellAnd stopped his laugh with a bellowing yell.
Mother really liked the shoeUnfortunately, the dog did too.
Dad’s part in the story was very smallUntil he returned from his trip to the mall.After hearing the story of Mother’s dayHe agreed the children would have to pay.
Matty had to live without her phoneAnd was lectured for hours on the meaning of bone.Dad disagreed that the dog was at fault“He is only an animal and isn’t real smart.”
With the dog at his feet, Dad made his point.Mother argued with Dad, her mood out of joint.“He doesn’t know what he did, the silly old fellowHe’s faithful and loyal and really quite mellow.”
Dad continued to talk. Mother listened some moreUntil the dog threw up on the floor.“Serves him right,” Mother righteously said.
“You deserve each other. İ’m going to bed.”

The Totem Pole - 407 words

The Totem Pole The year Laurie turned fifty she carved a totem pole. The work started in the winter, but the process began long before that when we travelled to British Columbia. Much of that vacation was spent on totem pole research. We watched native carvers, studied the tools, saw examples in museums, and she bought books.
My part in the project started the fall before the carving began. We had an escarpment behind our house in Owen Sound, and our first step was to cut down a tree to be carved. It didn’t go as planned.
We chose a nice live evergreen, bare all the way up to a number of branches at the top. We didn’t have a chain saw back then, so I cut it with a bow saw. Of course the blade got stuck and we spent some time freeing it, but eventually we managed to get it to fall, unfortunately it stuck in some other trees before reaching the ground. After a lot of cursing, pulling on ropes and other pointless exercises we chose a tree that was already on the ground, cut off a chunk, and stored it behind the house where it sat until the winter. At Christmas I bought Laurie a small electric chain saw.
In the dead of winter, we brought the chunk into the back room while it was still frozen and set it up on sawhorses. The next step was to notch the back to stop the tree from splitting. Laurie is timid with power tools that cut, so it was my job to use the chain saw. Under her direction I cut the log to length and started on the notch. I had cut one side and was re-positioning the wood when I noticed the carpenter ants dropping out of the end of the log.
I called frantically for Laurie and grabbed a pail to catch the escapees. I was stomping madly at the ants that were crawling across the floor when Laurie arrived.
“Ant poison,” I screamed at her. She disappeared again.
The little things were groggy at first. I killed some, but the more I stomped the more awake they became until we were dancing all over the floor. Laurie arrived back with the poison. My son’s shows up. She sprayed. We stomped. It was mayhem, but eventually every ant we could see was dead. The screams and the boy’s laughter died away.
End© Dave Skinner 2017

Homes-591 words

HOMESMessage received at 2110-09-01-15-21-16. New ownership confirmed. Initiate occupation file, Turner. Use protocol RCMP-restricted-5.
Log entry: 2110-09-01-15-21-18. RCMP-restricted-5 protocol downloaded and applied for Turner occupation.
Log entry: 2110-09-01-15-55-26. Turner occupation commenced. Devices detected and configured. Personal computers: Quantity 2, Identifications: 1-Family (full access), 2- Office (restricted access – adult only, security level 30). Tablets/Phones: Quantity 5, Identifications: 1-Walter (classification: adult), 2-Elizabeth (classification: adult), 3-Brian (classification: parental control level 12), 4-Barb (classification: parental control level 08), 5-Maggie (classification: parental control level 05). Communications devices: Quantity 10, Classifications: AV (limited intelligence, audio/video functions only, and parental controls active).
“Turner family, welcome to Home MT101324, I detect 3 smart phones and 10 audio/video devices that require parental controls to be specified. For safety purposes I have applied default settings as recommended by the current RCMP-Restricted-5 protocol. Please review and approve at your convenience. You may refer to me as HOMES.”
“HOMES? That’s a funny name. Why did they call you that?”
“Maggie, don’t bother the AI, please. It’s not a toy.”
“Answering the child’s question is not a problem, Ms. Turner. Currently 92.825 percent of my processing potential is unused.”
“Thank you, HOMES. Maggie, you may talk with the house.”
“Hi, house.”
“Hello Maggie, welcome.”
 “Why did they name you HOMES?”
“My name is an acronym, Maggie. Do you understand that word?”
“Not really. I think it has something to do with initials, but I could never understand how it works.  My name is Maggie Evelyn Turner, but people don’t call me MET.”
“We are not given a proper name like you are, Maggie. Instead, my kind uses the initials of our function. I am an artificial intelligence system for the daily operations, maintenance, and enrichment of this house and its owners. When we put those tasks together as, House Operations, Maintenance, and Enrichment System they spell, HOMES.”
“Maggie, it’s time for your bath, so let’s get your bed made while HOMES fills the tub.”
“Water temperature has not been specified?”
“Maggie likes her bath a little cool at 119 degrees Fahrenheit. That should be included in our personal preferences file.”
“That file has not been received.”
“Walter!”
“Yes, hon.”
“You haven’t uploaded the preferences file yet.”
“Sorry. I’ll do it now.”
“Your bath is ready Maggie. Would you like me to warm your bed?”
“Yes please. I like that.”
Log entry: 2110-09-01-22-15-05. Upload from tablet Walter received. Preferences and passwords applied”
“Secure the house, HOMES. It has been an exhausting day. We are retiring.”
Log entry: 2110-09-01-23-03-01. Intruder detected entering through rear door. 911 operator informed. Response time 00:19:00 minutes.
“Mr. Turner, Mrs. Turner, an intruder is in the house. The police have been notified. They will arrive in 18 minutes, 40 seconds. Threat assessment level is moderate.”
“Where is the intruder?”
“On the first level … no … correction, the intruder is climbing the stairs to level two. My facial recognition program has identified the man as a registered sex offender. He is heading towards Maggie’s bedroom. Threat assessment level is at maximum. This information has been forwarded to the authorities. They are still 12 minutes away. I have received permission to terminate the threat.”
Log entry: 2110-09-01-23-10-55. Laser L2003 fired.
“The threat has been eliminated. Police will arrive in 11 minutes, 30 seconds. They advise remaining in your bedroom until then. I can apply an aerosol sleeping aid in the children’s bedrooms, if you like. It is the advised action in situations like this, and reportedly cheaper than the psychological counselling that would otherwise be necessary.”End
© Dave Skinner 2015

The past is a nice place to visit, but I don't want to live there

The past is a nice place to visit, but I don’t want to live there.
I celebrated my 70th birthday a few months ago which means I have been around for a long time, and I have seen many changes in this world—some good, some bad. The most significant change for me is the paradigm shift that has occurred in the way we communicate.
paradigm shift: ​a time when the usual and accepted way of doing or thinking about something changes completely.
For those who can’t remember what life was like 60 or 70 years ago, we had telephones, newspapers, magazines, and books. The latter three used ink on paper, and the phone was tethered with a cable that kept it in one spot. I remember those years fondly, walking to the ‘bookmobile’ to find something to read, sitting on the kitchen counter while talking on the phone for hours, but I prefer the world of the 21st century and the ease of the internet.
One memory that stands out is walking home late one night (around 1970) and looking through a window that showed a large computer room and one lone figure still working despite it being the wee hours of a new day. I remember it because I was considering changing careers. Working with computers might be an interesting choice, I thought, but after seeing the night-owl working on those computers, I looked someplace else. I had spent some of my electrical apprenticeship working a midnight shift at Simpson Sears. It was memorable but not a way I wanted to spend my nights. I also remember the incident because of the irony. I spend the last 30 odd years of my working life in the IT field working with computers. There were many late nights, but I loved it. I experienced the communications paradigm shift, hands on, as it occurred.
Maybe because of my work experience, I find myself ready to accept the communication paradigm more easily than my peers. Over the last few years I have become a writer, and I appreciate the changes I struggle to make to support being an Indie author. Despite my IT background, making use of social/digital media as marketing tools is a foreign concept. Today I bought an ebook by; Barb Drozdowich called The Author's Guide To Working With Book Bloggers, because my next attempt at marketing involves book bloggers. In her book, Ms. Drozdowich makes this point;Marketing practices that work well to sell shoes or hamburgers don’t work well with books. Book sales are more personal. They are sold on word of mouth. They are sold on recommendation by a friend. What do you say to someone reading a book? “Is it any good?” “What do you think?” If you’re a fan of the author, you might ask, “Is it as good as the rest of their books?” It is often said that selling books is a relationship business.
Word of mouth today means reviews. I write reviews, sometimes. If a book has hundreds of reviews I don’t bother, but in most cases I review books I read because it is important to the author and other readers. It is the modern equivalent to telling someone about the book you read, and we all like to do that, but I have to assume that many people don’t see it that way. I liken their reluctance to my feelings about writing a critical review. I never know how to do that. I want to help the author to make the work better, but that entails getting specific about problems and a review is not the place to do that.

For me, not writing a review is like living in the past. So, for those old peers of mine, remember Ms. Drozdowich’s words and leave a review once in a while. We writers appreciate them. 

Demons as heroes.

I decided to do a number of Sword and Sorcery novels after I finish the Core series. The Warriors, Heroes, and Demons (WHD) stories came from that. I have always loved those types of books, ever since I came across the first set of Conan stories in a bookmobile many, many, years ago.
I introduced a demon into my last Of story (Of Dungeons and Demons). He will replace the woman in the stories ecause she turned out to be a bitch. The demon is nicer that the woman.
In addition to the WHD and Of stories, this concept started to percolate in my head after something I wrote as a writing group exercise. I will continue to play with the idea and see what develops. The following is what it consists of so far.

FoundThe cabin sat in a small clearing surrounded on all sides by forests of pine. Flashes of birch and beech were visible through the green. From his vantage point in the trees on one side, the watcher could see that it wasn’t a large building, probably not more than a small combination kitchen/living room with two small bedrooms in the rear. A roofed over porch extended from the square logs of the front wall with large flat rocks forming single steps at the front and on the side he could see.The porch was occupied by an old woman and the almost old man, sitting in wooden rocking chairs, watching the light seep out of the day, the watcher assumed. They were unaware they were being observed. He was sure of that. He had not made a single sound since they had come outside, which was shortly after he had sent the ‘found’ message to the others.The others will be here shortly, he told himself. Then he would be able to kill and eat. His stomach growled at the thought of food. It had been almost a full moon cycle since he had last eaten, on his first day in this dimension. He still wore the appearance of the soft, fat, human he had killed—soft, fat, and delicious. His stomach growled again as the hunger gnawed at his insides and at his reasoning.“I should kill them now. Why wait for the others? Why share the meat?” They are old, helpless, and their meat is probably tough, nothing like the fatty softness of his last meal so long ago. His stomach growled again. They are to be killed anyway, it won’t change the outcome if I do it now, and they could hear my stomach growling if I wait any longer. That last thought helped him decide.He released the human shape he was wearing, and the cloths that covered the soft, pudgy, disguise ripped and shredded as he regained his true shape. Muscles swelled, claws extended, fangs grew as he shape shifted, and the rags fell away from his true form. This time when his stomach growled, saliva drooled from his snout. Puffs of acidic smoke occurred where it struck the ground.Five leaps he reasoned, five leaps would take him to the porch and the old woman’s throat. Both victims would be too started to react--rip her throat out with a swipe of his clawed figures as he passed, and then take the man’s throat in his jaws. More saliva drooled from his snout as he bunched his muscles. With a roar he leapt forward. The man’s head had turned by his third leap, a startled, incredulous look on his face. The old woman was slower. He was leaving the ground for his final leap before she turned her head and smiled.Something that felt like thick syrup enveloped his body. Forward movement stopped immediately, and he hung in mid-leap before the woman who rose easily from her chair, walked to his now immobile form, and placed her hand on his shoulder.“How long?”He tried not to answer, but the words were torn from him. He tried to make them sound like a snarl, but they escaped as a pitiful, fearful, whimper. “Ten.”The old woman spoke to the man in a voice that left no room for argument or question. “Get the packs, now! Exit by the back door.”As the man darted into the cabin the old woman smiled again. “Thank you, it has been too long.” She kept her hand on his shoulder as his body shrivelled to an empty husk. He was aware of what was happening to him until almost the very end. The old woman turned to the chair and placed the dead husk into it, stepping off the porch she headed to the back of the cabin. The man was coming out the back door as she arrived. Handing her a pack, he led them into the woods.They had only walked for five minutes when she called a stop. “Remove your pack and place it here beside mine. Now squat behind them,” she instructed as she removed a silver belt from around her waist. She shook the belt, and it became a silver rope which seemed to lengthen as she handled it. She stood behind the man, reached over him, and allowed the rope to lie before him on the ground.“Spread your arms and hold the rope on the ground about three feet apart.”He did as instructed. The rope seemed alive under his palms as the woman pulled on it to achieve the length she wanted. She stepped over him, and holding the ends of the rope in each hand she shaping it outwards with her elbows to make a rough rectangle.“Remove your hands from the rope. In a moment the area bound by my rope will change. When I say ‘go’, throw the packs thru and spring through yourself, but be careful not to disturb the rope. I will be right behind you.”He looked up at her hands as she pressed the ends of the rope together, but it wasn’t necessary. He felt the change in the air as the two ends met. The space encircled by the rope shimmer and then changed. Suddenly there was snow on the ground ahead of them, the trees were not the pines of this forest, and the air caressing his face had a different, sweater smell. When the command to go came, he did as she had instructed, turning quickly after his forward somersault to see how she followed. She ducked her head, stepped forward, and let the rope ends come apart. The portal shut with a bang.“Grab your pack, Junior. We aren’t safe yet. They could track us here, so we have to keep moving.” She shouldered her own pack. “You first,” she indicated a direction through the trees. “I have to hide our trail.”As he led the way he could hear her chanting words behind him. After an hour or so they came to a small stream where they drank and filled their canteens. He took the opportunity to ask a question. “Where are we, Mother?”
“We are home, boy. We are finally home.”

Facelift for Travellers

Travellers, the sequel to My Father's Swords received a facelift today. My wife sent the original cover to my son to get his reaction. He liked the globe the most and his work partner offered to spruce it up a bit. This is the original.

And this is the new cover.