Bre Faucheux's Blog, page 61

10 Things I Believe

The serious and the ridiculous I suppose should go here. Enough to really make someone laugh or piss them off.

1,) I believe that everyone should give that little wave when I let them into my lane while driving. It’s just common courtesy!! Drivers where I live right now are crazy. But after my debacle at the DPS and trying to get my stupid license renewed (that was a total nightmare), I now know why drivers here are so terrible. The test was a total joke.

2.) I believe (and this is a recent reformation) that eating healthy and a mostly vegan diet (and no, I am not an animal activist or something like that and often still eat meat on my cheat days) will lead to a healthier and prolonged life. I have been watching all these videos on people who beat cancer by becoming fanatical raw vegans. I swear this lifestyle change is hard, but I am trying. If I can get to being a raw vegan 5 days out of the week, I will be thrilled. Anymore than that for me and I might go nuts. I need my occasional steak or piece of chicken and my mom’s homemade macaroni and cheese. Sorry.

3.) I believe that many of the teachers I had over the years were nuts or should never have gone into teaching. I didn’t realize this until college, but a lot of my insecurities growing up were because a teacher scolded me for something. Example: There was a school play when I was in the fifth grade. I tried out for ever single female part that was a speaking role, even if it was just one line. I found out later that the teacher giving out roles wrote me out of the audition list because she didn’t think my voice could project enough in the auditorium (even though there were microphones). In other words, she sabotaged all of my auditions. When I found this out, it was in the middle of class and I started crying. She screamed at me and called me a spoiled little brat in front of the entire class and made me apologize for being upset that I didn’t get the exact part I wanted in the play, making it out to be my own fault. Which was an outright lie. I was humiliated by her yelling at me and calling me names, and I never auditioned for anything ever again in my whole life. I didn’t realize until years later how screwed up that was. And she wasn’t the last teacher to make a judgement on me because I am soft spoken. Another teacher told me I couldn’t speak up in class until I learned to talk like a lady and project. Ugh…I’m disabled slightly in my vocal cords BITCH! *groan*

4.) I believe that having a peaceful place to write is critical. I have no such place right now. I am currently living in a temporary rental house with some family and I am constantly interrupted. It makes things much harder. If you can make a space completely your own, do so. Guys have man caves, girls have bitch caves. Make your cave your own.

5.) I believe that Clive Cussler fucked up when he killed the Dirk Pitt movies with Matthew McConaughey. I have always loved his Dirk Pitt adventure books and was so excited when they were making ‘Sahara’ into a film. I loved that book and the movie was pretty good. I wish they kept the Lincoln stuff in the there at the end, but hey, you can’t get everything you want. I thought the casting was brilliant and I couldn’t wait for them to make more. Then Cussler decides he doesn’t like it and goes on a rampage to kill the movie and all future projects. ASSHOLE! If you are fortunate enough to see your books come to the big screen, shut up and say thank you. Yeah, if they are going to change everything and it doesn’t even resemble the story you wrote in any form, then you have the right to complain. But the way Cussler behaved was just SO wrong. And what gives? When people see a film based on a movie, they often go buy the book after seeing it. ROYALTIES!!! I know the man is rich already, but damn, this could have been such a great series.

6.) I believe that women who like to look nice (like myself) should not be berated for it. All my life I have been called vain, conceited, and “into my appearance” for loving fashion, makeup, hair styling…all the jazz. Just because I take time to get ready and in the morning doesn’t make me dumb, or unintelligent, or into myself. It means I like things that are shiny and sparkly!! Makeup lovers of the world unite!! (I could write a whole blog post about this one issue, but I will leave that for my makeup blog).

7.) I believe that life should have a soundtrack. I would be so much better at life in general if a theme song played when I needed motivation, or life in general had music to contribute to each and every mood. If anything, it would help me to know when something bag was going to happen. Lord knows I would be better at things if Florence Welch kicked into gear when I needed her voice to lift me up. Same for Enya when I am trying to fall asleep.

8.) I believe that I will never be able to give up spaghetti for as long as I live. I have it once a week. It’s like a drug I just can’t quit. No matter what diet I am on, it will be a part of my life. Same goes for Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream (when I can get it because they mainly sell it in the southern states, although its moving on up to other states gradually).

9.) When it comes to writing, don’t let others tell you how it should be done. Whenever I see a video on YouTube, and they ask a famous author some advice, and they give it…I almost always disagree with it. They are telling others what to do like it is a mantra that must be followed. Do what works for you and only follow advice that conceivably can be applied or works well for your writing habits.

10.) I believe no one will actually read all of this. Haha!

Book Snobbery

I worry sometimes that I am turning into a book snob. This year I finished a lot of books, but I have just as many that remain unfinished. I am having a hard time finding authors that can really keep my interest going through the book. I hit that 200 page mark and just give up. I have a policy that if an author can’t keep my interest throughout the book, I don’t bother finishing it. It’s his/her own fault if I can’t find something worth finishing. But does that make me a snob? Or is there just a lack of authors right now that are coming up with things that are truly unique. I need to branch out of my comfort zone of reading to find new authors because current ones just aren’t impressing me.

I got halfway through ‘Mockingjay’ and quit. Didn’t like where it was going. Was reading ‘City of Bones’ and got tired of waiting and waiting for it to kick into gear. I even found the opening scene in Pandemonium to be kind of boring. And as much I love Anne Rice, I got through about 100 pages of ‘Vampire Armand’ and gave up because it was just too damn detailed and not enough plot happening.

Is there something wrong with me? Am I becoming a lazy reader, or are there authors out there who just can’t keep a good plot going and continuously interesting? Then I thought, maybe this is why there are so many people purchasing eBooks. The stuff getting published isn’t really great material and people are desperate to find new authors…a thing that is possible through the purchase of cheap eBooks possibly? No idea… it’s just a theory.

The last author who left me completely into his stories to the very end was Clive Cussler (back during his Dirk Pitt story days). Adventure, history. sexy guys, the stories had it all. And I know Clive Cussler is a bit of a dick in real life, but we can learn to let that go if the guy can write a good story. I still can’t believe how he killed the ‘Sahara’ film and the ones that were meant to come after it. He just behaved SO wrong. I know there are differing opinions about the movie and his behavior, but I am on the side of the film makers on this one. Which probably also makes me weird since I am a writer myself. *shrugs* That could have been a brilliant movie trilogy.

I just find that so many authors are creating unsympathetic characters who I can’t care about or connect with. I only hope that I manage to do this in my stories and people don’t feel the same about my characters. I know it’s not always an easy thing to do, create a connection to the reader and the characters. But if I can’t get a good character, or a plot that moves along, I’m not gonna finish the story.

*MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS*

And Suzanne Collins, what the hell is up with that ending to Mockingjay? I mean really? Katniss votes yes to another Hunger Games involving Capital children? I don’t care what her motives or circumstances were. WHAT THE FUCK???? Not to mention you broke a cardinal rule of writing that I learned early on. Don’t kill of the character your lead herione has been trying to protect throughout the entire series since page one!! That would be like killing off Hermione or Ron in the Harry Potter series.

*head desk*

Girl Crushing Moment

Boy was JennaMarbles right when she said that girls are majestic fucking creatures. I think no truer statement has ever been said. I may be straight, but there are some women who are so inspiring and naturally sexy that they must be commended.

Current girl crush: Lana Del Rey.

I have been looking at pictures of her online and watching her interviews online, listening to her music. I know there are a fair amount of people out there who don’t like her, but I truly don’t care. Other artists out there need to take lessons from her on how to be naturally sexy without having to PROVE they are sexy. I never went for Madonna or Britney for the mere reason that they shoved their sexuality in your face. Lana does it in a subtle way which I love. Now that I have said this, she will undoubtedly do something distasteful. HAHA! But I still love her so far.

Her song “Burning Desire” is on repeat for me right now, as well as many of her other songs. I’ve never seen an artist so sensual just in the way she moves while being very covered up at the same time (even though the dress is stunning in its own right).

It’s songs like this that inspire me while writing. If there is a yearning, or something mystical in the lyrics or the melody, it draws me in and gets my creative juices going. And even though I don’t write erotica (as of now anyway…who knows what will come in the future), I find this kind of music to be hypnotic. And the hypnotic trance of writing is one of those highs I live for.

Other Lana Del Rey songs to check out:

Carmen

Blue Jeans

Serial Killer

National Anthem

Off to the Races

Gods and Monsters

Dark Paradise

Summertime Sadness

Young and Beautiful

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And look out for the free promotion of “The Elder Origins” this coming weekend on Amazon.com. (10/19 – 10/20)

New Beginnings…literally.

I am re-starting a lot of things this week. For one, job hunting. The one I wanted and thought I had didn’t pan out. Boo! Second, my diet and workout regime. I fell off the wagon for a bit because last week was rather rough. And third, (and most importantly), I am re-starting a book I started about a month ago. I wasn’t sure what it was or where it was going, then I hit that dreaded 30,000 word mark, took a good hard look at what I had and said, “WTF IS THIS?” I even wrote about this issue in a recent blog post.

Well, I know what it is now, are at least generally. It’s gonna be another teen paranormal, but I don’t think that this one will be a romance. At least not yet. It might end up that way, but my lead heroine will have to jump through some major hoops first to figure out what the hell is going on.

I am really excited about this one. It is the kind of story that I would love to read and I can’t wait to see where it goes. I think it might creep some people out too, which just makes it more exciting.

So basically, I have to get back to behaving. I have to write regularly, and I mean every day. Then I have to make sure that other things go smoothly while I’m at it. Back to my work outs, back to eating right, back to finding a job, and back to writing regularly. Thank goodness I have awesome parents who like having me around and let me live with them. I have with friends with horror stories of their parent’s kicking them out on the mere basis that they can’t find work. Uh…where I come from that is a reason to put them up, not kick them out.

I think I was lied to for most of my childhood. You know that whole thing about going to a good college and getting a education will lead to a job and the grad school will lead to an even better one…and then when promotions come around, you will get it because you are the one with the higher education. Then you do and get out to see that all anyone wants is work experience because no one wants to get their hands dirty with having to train someone new. They just want you to have all the skills at the forefront so they don’t have to do ANYTHING!! GRR!!! Back in my parents day, you pretty much walked into a place and they decided right then and there whether or not they like you. Do I blame computers, the economy? The lies about getting a degree? The impersonal format of screening resumes these days? *head desk*

Anyway, back to work!!

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Sign up for my newsletter: http://brefaucheux.us7.list-manage.com/subscribe/post?u=e371f047315476f25a9dd4c2f&id=5ebefac58b

Check out my recent books: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=Bre%20Faucheux&search-alias=digital-text&sort=relevancerank

Get the “The Keeper’s Realm” for more than 60% off at Smashwords right now! Limited time offer!! Coupon code is: KX89D

And look out for the free promotion of “The Elder Origins” this coming weekend on Amazon.com. (10/19 – 10/20)

‘The Keeper’s Realm’ soundtrack

I always have music playing when I write. It’s an absolute must. There are pieces that inspire certain works, and others that keep me going. Here are a few that I listened to religiously while writing ‘The Keeper’s Realm.’

1.) Florence + the Machine – Blinding (http://youtu.be/Da6bBKLPEGg)

Naturally, right? I have to have some Florence in there. This song is hauntingly beautiful. And oddly enough, it’s not one of her most popular. And the lyrics are equally mournful and eery. She speaks of a broken heart, a spell, dreaming, and a girl who is in love with the wrong world. Ashlyn has a difficult time as she loves a man from an entirely different world to her own. It makes her own world seem bleak without him. Therefore it fits beautifully.

2.) Trevor Morris – Moonlight (http://youtu.be/vvfxyZjfrZ4)

A beautiful piano and violin melody that is like something from a dream. Or maybe not of this realm? It describes the peace Ashlyn feels inside the Hall of Mirrors.

3.) Trevor Morris – A Historic Love (http://youtu.be/oKpPBg_ae-8)

Damien and Ashlyn share a love that has survived for ages. This piece reminds me of a melody that may have existed for centuries and survived the test of time. So many songs come from ancient melodies and we don’t even know it. This song to me is passionate and timeless, just like Ashlyn and Damien. It can drive a character to motivation or bring them to the point of despair.

4.) Alexandre Desplat – Flight to the Compound (http://youtu.be/4-2AM8FuI_w)

Yes, I know this is from the score to the film ‘Zero Dark Thirty,’ but there is something so undeniably creepy and foreshadowing about it. I can hear this playing toward the end of the book when Ashlyn is really struggling (and for spoiler purposes, I won’t say much more than that).

5.) Luke Cusaato – Blueskies (Soundnet Remix) (http://youtu.be/RyHa9MdUtTA)

I listened to this song just as a filler to listen to while writing and searching for new music. I really like SuicideSheeep on YouTube and his remixes. This particular one was just peaceful to listen to when I was writing Ashlyn’s inner dialogue with herself.

6.) Soley – Pretty Face (http://youtu.be/gRwFRMGpTWg)

Let’s face it, this song is just creepy, yet beautiful. Her voice is lovely, and there something longing in it… like she is hurting. This makes me think of my leading antagonist. Not gonna say who for obvious reasons.

7.) New Divide – Gavin Mikhail (Linkin Park cover) (http://youtu.be/GR3y_fGiGE4)

Ugh, this just describes Damien’s pain SO beautifully!!!!!! If you read the story, you will know exactly what I mean. And Gavin’s voice will break your heart.

8.) Time – Hans Zimmer (http://youtu.be/MuAGGZNfUkU)

I know I listed this song for ‘The Elder Origins’ as well. But I can’t help it. This song is so beautiful that I can’t help but listen to it each and every time I write. There is something so epic and still haunting about it. I can hear this playing at so many different points in the story, it’s ridiculous. I feel like this song embodies a love story that needs to be told, but will make you cry once you’ve heard it.

9.) Loreena McKennitt – La Serenissima (http://youtu.be/m54SmVsQqgc)

This is another melody that I can picture the ancients having for so long and existing throughout time. Even though I know Loreena wrote it. Loreena has been one of my favorites for years and year and years. It speaks of another time, older generations long gone, and stories untold. There is something so mythical in her melodies. And yes, this describes both Ashlyn and Damien. You know why if you’ve read the story.

10.) Lana Del Rey – Blue Jeans (http://youtu.be/JRWox-i6aAk)

Such a romantic song. And Damien truly will love Ashlyn “til the end of time.” I am turning into a really big Lana Del Rey fan. I honestly don’t know why so many people hate her. She has such a unique sound to her voice.

11.)  Sarah McLachlan – Fear (http://youtu.be/l_vVmeUf6QU)

Another singer I have been listening to since…like….um….FOREVER! I was raised on her. And this was one of the first songs of hers that I absolutely fell head over heels in love with. When that awful thing that I can’t say because its a spoiler happens to Ashlyn in the last 100 pages goes down…this is definitely playing. Sarah’s voice is almost frightening. And it speaks of fear…so yeah, it fits well.

Mermaids, Fairies, Witches and Vampires, OH MY!!

I’m beginning to think that I might lack an interest in the human race as a whole. Why else would I always revert back to writing about mystical creatures? I love a good thriller in a movie, survival stories, and general non-fiction. But mostly in films. I almost never read stories of realistic nature unless they are historical fiction. (Lord knows I have a weak spot for Phillipa Gregory even when she gets the history wrong… But I would naturally be critical of that because I am a historian).

I went to Barnes & Noble last weekend because I figured the one thing I need in life is more books (even though I already have quite a few unread ones in my stash, it just looks prettier to have more on my desk. I like looking at the pages that remain unread, so sue me!) And I noticed something. I always head for the YA section, then the fantasy/sci-fi section, followed by the historical fiction/historical non-fiction section. Then I pillage the journals because they have such pretty designs. I never venture into certain types of literature because they remind me too much of the kind of material that was force fed down me in school. And they almost always brought down my GPA. I have a bone to pick with Hawthorne, Harper Lee, and Fitzgerald. All great writers, but I just didn’t get into their material. And not because it wasn’t good quality or worth the read, but because I need something mystical in there to capture my interest.

Bottom line, love humans in films. Almost always find them boring in literature. Maybe there is something wrong with me, but I will always pick up something with witches over the latest crime thriller (even though I really did enjoy ‘Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,’).

They say to read books outside your genre, but what if you can’t even get through the first 50 pages in that said genre?

Does anyone else have this problem? Maybe I’m lacking a sensitivity to completely human characters, or I was born a bit of a dreamer. But I read to escape reality, not to relive it. And stories about normal people for me, always make me relive it. It’s too much work. I want something more to whisk me away.

Maybe I’m biased. But humans are boring sometimes. Give me mermaids, fairies, witches or vampires any day of the week.

‘THE KEEPER’S REALM’ available now, and Preview!

Great news! I officially published my second book, ‘The Keeper’s Realm.’ It has yet to make it through the premium catalog on Smashwords, and knowing my luck there will be errors that will need to be corrected, but nothing too bad yet.

You can purchase it currently on Amazon and Smashwords. In a matter of days (if all goes well and my hours spent following the Smashwords Style Guide were not in vain), it should be available on most Ebook reading devices.

I promised a preview chapter, so here it is for all to see. I hope you enjoy!!

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THE KEEPER’S REALM

Prologue

 

            I couldn’t tell you when I first started seeing Damien. As far as I know, it could have been since I was a baby. But I know when I first started remembering his face. I must have been in my own bed by then, and not in a cradle, because I think he would come at night and sit next to me. I would always feel the edge of my bed bend a little, like someone had sat just at the foot of it. Often I could feel someone stroking my hair, like a father would his child. Sometimes I would wake up frightened, and an imprint would be on my blanket, proving that someone had been sitting there.

At first I thought it was my mom or my dad, coming in to check on me. Parents do that a lot when you are young, I think. They come in just to feel your chest to make sure you are breathing, like the only time they cannot protect you is when they are asleep.

And yet, the way Damien moved was so different from my mom or dad. I could tell the difference between his footsteps and my dad’s just as soon as he entered the hall. Even though I was half asleep, knowing someone was coming to watch over me didn’t scare me. There was something else, something caring and nostalgic about it, like it was a ritual. And he always came after my parents went to sleep.

After mom died, the cancer finally taking her from me and dad, Damien started coming nearly every night. He didn’t say a word sometimes. He simply lay beside me. I could feel the heat coming from his body, warming me from the chilly English air from the draft in my bedroom window.

He knew just how to sit next to me without waking me. He knew how to give me glimpses of his form or even his face without giving me the entire picture. He didn’t have that teen heart throb face. It was manlier. There wasn’t a mark on him. He was bronzed and toned. His hair was so black that I often couldn’t see it through the darkness of my room. And his eyes pierced right through me, like he knew me. Every part of me was something he was familiar with.

One night I thought I heard him whispering in my ear, thinking that I was fast asleep. He said we would be together one day, and that I only need wait. It would be a long wait, and I would not see him as often, but I would endure.

I woke up on a few occasions thinking that it had been a dream. He wasn’t really there. Once I even thought that I might have a guardian angel looking after me.

I was only half right. He wasn’t an angel, but he was a guardian… of sorts. And he would always be there to safeguard me.

1

Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

I open my eyes slowly, not sure of what I would see. The air around me was still laden with thick pressure. It embraced me, but it felt more like it was trapping me. I refused to move my hands from my ears. My body ached from the tight ball I had locked myself in for what had felt like hours.

I wanted to uncurl my stiffening legs, but I wouldn’t allow myself to the privilege. The noise was deafening. My small hands tried to stop the penetrating screech of bullets exploding from the guns. Cannons were firing everywhere. And the cries of angry men and others laying on the ground in agony invaded every sense that I had.

I remember running to hide between two pillared rocks. I cradled myself and tried to stop the tears from staining the new dress my dad bought me. I knew he would be upset if it got dirty so soon. Then I nearly started laughing at the fact that such a thought would cross my mind in that moment.

“It’s his fault. It was a bad idea to come here. I told dad it was a bad idea,” I whimpered. I kept trying to justify it. We had to be there for his job. And I knew it. Just like we had to be at all the other historical sites in previous years. But as my every sense grew dull and my hearing drained from my ears, the overpowering sound of gunfire mercilessly harassing them, I found myself blaming him.

Once I finally realized that night had fallen and the noise that tortured me was gone, I laid my arms on my knees. I allowed myself to fall onto the ground and let everything go quiet. The guns had stopped firing. The men had stopped screaming. There was only the sound of a breeze flowing through the nearby trees. The field only feet away was empty and the harsh heat had been replaced with the intrusive night air. A sudden chill ran through my limbs and gave me prickly bumps all over my skin. I knew once goosebumps took over that I would have a hard time getting warm again. But the alternative of standing to see if everything had stopped was too risky. I tried running my hands down my legs and rubbing them to keep warm, but to no avail. I wondered for a brief moment if anyone would find me there. I was not well hidden. Finding a great hiding place was not my goal. I just wanted to find somewhere that protected me from bullets flying everywhere and men running at each other with deadly weapons.

I could still smell everything. Bodies quickly decayed in the summer heat, even though summer had been gone for months. Gunpowder grew stronger in the air and I remember coughing at one point as though it were clouding everything around me.

My hearing was still dull when they found me. I would venture to say that was why it took them so long. It had to be at least 10 or 11 o’clock at night. Sirens wailed in the distance and men walked about yelling my name. They had sent a search party looking for me. I knew at that point that dad wouldn’t be as angry about the dress, and angrier at me. This was the third time in less than two years that I had simply disappeared when I was meant to stay close by.

To be fair, I tried telling him. I told him that these places scared me and that I wanted to leave. I even tried convincing him that I would rather that he went back into teaching and didn’t perform field work anymore. But his studies required him to always be at these places of “historical interest” for various reasons. And I knew he loved it. But how was I supposed to tell him and make him understand? I knew that I was “just a kid”, only ten years old, and that his friends would tell him to send me to a doctor. The same had happened to a friend of mine because her parents thought she was too “hyper”. What was he going to make of it when I told him that I was seeing people who weren’t there? Or worse, that I was witnessing everything that had happened to them?

I still wasn’t sure at that time what I was seeing. Only that it was terrifying. I knew from sitting at my dad’s lectures on the days where he couldn’t find a sitter that Gettysburg was a bad place. Battles had been fought there and a lot of young men died. That was reason enough for me to not want to go. But my dad’s paper on historical renenactments from Rome’s Colosseum had been such a success that he wanted to write another on more American historical renenactments.

I don’t remember seeing the face of the man who found me right away. He lifted me from the ground and held me tight in his arms. I wanted to reach around and grab him, but I was too chilled. Someone nearby wrapped me in a warmed blanket as they walked away from where I was hiding. They yelled out to someone down the field, but I couldn’t understand what it was. I felt like my ears were still rattling from the sound of exploding gunpowder.

I closed my eyes until we reached the others. I heard my dad rush up to me and try to take me into his arms, but the man holding me insisted that he get inside the ambulance with me. They placed me on a gurney and wrapped another warm blanket on top of me. I could barely feel anything except the heavy fabric weighing down my small body into the thin padding under me. My dad stroked my head and called my name, but somehow I couldn’t respond. I just felt tired, like everything was slipping away right before me. Someone had a flashlight in my eyes and continued calling my name.

“She’s coming around; we need to get her hydrated,” said a woman hanging over me. I felt a small prick in my arm as my dad held my other hand, an IV no doubt. I had seen them given to my mom plenty of times when she got sick. He kept trying to talk to me but I could barely understand him. I drifted to sleep and allowed everything to become blurred before me. But the images quickly returned with a vengeance.

As I lay there, allowing sleep to consume me, I thought back on how I got to this point yet again. Dad had wanted to see the Gettysburg battle reenactments earlier that year, so he scheduled for us to make the trip. He was in the audience taking notes and watching along the sidelines. I watched beside him, but I was getting a bit chilled as the day winded down. He gave me his keys and said to go to the car and get his jacket to put on.

Count on me to be the one person there to get cold even when it was only a moderate temperature outside.

I was trying to find dad again in crowd, no easy task. I guess when you are still a small kid, the height of all adults begin to look alike from the waist down. But for some reason, I couldn’t find him. I walked around and paced the sidelines looking for him, figuring that he was probably doing the same for me since I had taken too long to get the jacket and come back. I headed back for the car, thinking that he might have gone there to look for me by his truck. But I never made it. It happened this time just like it did all the others. I was just walking and I stepped into something. Everything around me changed and turned blurry, like I was in a tunnel of some sort. And when I took a step out, I tried looking around for where I was. By that time, everything around me had changed for the worse. Men were charging for one another in the very field I was standing in. They had their muskets and bayonets pointed in my general direction, but aimed at each other. Men were already bleeding on the ground. And when I looked down at my shoes, they were drenched with blood. There was an entire stream cascading through the grass near the dozens that lay lifeless before me.

The sound of canon fire made me instantly grab for my ears to muffle the noise. It was a cracking unlike anything I had ever heard before in my life. All the gunfire instantly resulted in a gut wrenching cry followed by a man falling to the ground just feet from me. I looked all around me and saw nothing but vengeful or dying faces.

I ran to where I thought the audience sideline would be. I had to have gotten caught in the middle of the reenactment by accident or taken a wrong turn. But when I tripped on a man lying on the ground screaming, I realized that this was not like the other times. I was in the middle of something I couldn’t explain and couldn’t escape.

I ran to the woods in the distance and ducked as I heard bullets flying inches from me. One was so close that my dress wafted from the drastic speed of a bullet grazing the cotton fabric. I swore at one point that one had grazed my leg, but it was cut by pieces of blown apart trees sprawled across the grass.

When I saw the rocks, I climbed to get between them, thinking that they might allow me some protection from the flying debris or the bullets. I never knew trees could literally explode until I saw the magnitude of power canons possessed.

When we arrived at the hospital, I felt myself coming to. My dad was still hovering over me, giving the paramedic our health insurance information while still looking for some sign in my eyes that I was okay.

I didn’t know how to explain to him what was happening to me. And that this was the third time it had occurred. I had stepped into something, or somewhere. I tried to think of how to describe it without him thinking I needed doctors. But I couldn’t come up with one. I would just have to endure the grounding that would inevitably follow from wondering off and getting myself lost, yet again. The police had already labeled me as a “runner,” or a kid that had a tendency to disappear whenever the mood struck me.

“Mr. Drakes?” A man appeared from behind the curtain to our small hospital room.

“Yes, I never learned your name,” my dad said. He let go of me to shake the man’s hand. I could hardly make out his appearance as my vision was still blurred, but he was taller than my dad. Black hair and blue eyes, and he stood with the kind of confidence I had only seen from men of authority.

“Kavanagh, I’m Damien Kavanagh. I’m a ranger here in a nearby area. We were the first to be alerted of your daughter’s disappearance.”

It was him. The man I thought was only in my dreams. The heart monitor I was on must have jumped because they both turned to look at me. I feigned my moment of shock as a chill and grabbed onto my blanket a bit tighter.

My dad came over to me and tucked the blanket around me so there were no air pockets. I tried my best to look a bit out of it. To be fair, I was a bit out of it. But seeing Damien standing there snapped me back into reality.

“I can’t thank you enough for finding her. The doctor said things could have been worse if she had been out there any longer. But we got her warm.”

Dad moved back to talk to the ‘ranger.’ I didn’t move or even try to speak. I just looked at Damien with prying eyes. His face had never been this clear to me. I could see every feature.

“That’s good to hear. I’m sure it frightened her as much as it did you, sir.” Damien had the self-assurance that you only see in officials or police. He fit the roll of a ranger well.

“I don’t know. This isn’t the first time she has simply wondered off.”

“You know kids, they see something, they wonder away. And with these woods, everything looks the same very quick.”

“I just don’t know how to keep her close anymore. I told her to go to the car, which was only twenty feet away. And your mind instantly begins to think of the worst. Kidnapping or something… but she just wonders into the most obscure places and stays there paralyzed for hours.”

I could hear my dad’s frustration growing. We would undoubtedly be having a discussion about this for months to come.

“Go easy on her this time. I have a feeling she may have suffered enough. The prospect of freezing to death can definitely scare a child straight.”

“Maybe. I mean, hopefully. But this isn’t the first time.”

“What do you mean?” asked the ranger.

“She does this all the time, walks off and goes missing for hours. And while we were overseas no less.”

Damien looked at me and smiled, seeing that I was gazing at him.

“Why were you overseas?”

“Her mother was English. She passed last year. That’s why we moved back to the states.”

I hated the fact that Dad brought up mom to someone who was a complete stranger to him, even though I figured that Damien already knew about mom. Dad barely spoke of her with me, even when I really wanted him to. But he was willing to bring it up with this guy? I could tell that something about the ranger made dad feel comfortable. I had learned really quick not to mention mom when things got bad or when dad was emotional. You never feel so small as when you make a fully grown man cry.

“Why don’t you go downstairs and get some coffee or something to eat. I will watch over her for a few minutes. Looks like you could use a pick up,” said the ranger.

It was true. My dad was beginning to droop a bit. I could tell from his posture.

“Alright, yeah. She probably needs to eat something anyway. I’ll go see what they have. Thank you, Mr. Kavanagh.”

“Please sir, it’s Damien,” he said before firmly gripping my dad’s hand again. Dad took one final look at me before he left, making sure that I was okay. Guilt inevitably followed after I disappeared yet again for the third time. I was all he had left now, and I felt like I risked breaking his heart all over again.

Damien watched me as he waited for the nurse to leave. When she did, he closed the curtain gently and walked over to me. Even a kid of my age could see how handsome he was. He was unlike any other man I had seen before, clearly still young, perhaps in his early late twenties, but strong. His features were sharp and chiseled like something from an ancient sculpture. His eyes seemed to look straight through me with concern and empathy. His hand reached forth and touched my forehead. He took a stray hair from my face and brushed it back and kept his hand there.

“It’s best to keep it all to yourself for now, Ashlyn. Your father wouldn’t understand. No one here will, especially the doctors. Tell him you got lost trying to find the gentleman giving out water to the crowd. You were thirsty and needed a drink, nothing more.”

I tried to find my voice, but I could tell it was going to come out croaky and weird. “Who are you?” was all I could manage to say. I may have known that he was literally the man of my dreams, but I still had no true idea of who he was.

“We met before, don’t you remember? I was in Rome when you were lost in the Colosseum and in England when you disappeared near Stonehenge. I found you. I will always find you.”

‘That was him?’ I thought. I had no idea. I was too young to remember his face from those incidents, but the visions of what happened in those places was still carved in my memory. He had been there during my other disappearing acts.

“How do you always know where I am?” I asked.

“It’s my job to know. I am always nearby.” He stroked my hair gently and looked at me with such sincerity. There was something so heartfelt in his words. They were kind, not threatening.

“What happened to me? Why does this keep happening?” I could feel hot tears welling up in my eyes. But part of me couldn’t stand to cry in front of him. As scared as I still was from what had happened, I tried to keep calm. He definitely made it easier.

“It will all make sense in a few years. I will show you everything. All you need to know now is that you were never in any real danger. I know it feels like you were. And it feels as though you are there and seeing everything as it happens, but you have not travelled back in time, so to speak. You are witnessing it. Only special people can do this.”

“But I could feel everything shaking from the canons,” I said weakly.

“Because you are seeing it through the memories of others. You feel what they felt. It can be overwhelming. But never fear it. You are not in danger. Just stay in place. Remain still, and in time you will come back to where you were. If you move around, you will never find the portal to come home.”

Without knowing for certain who this man was, I could sense that I met him before. And he knew me better than I knew him. I was aware right then and there that any other boy I met would find it difficult to measure up to the man standing above me. I became breathless at the sight of him, but somehow it was soothing. He took his hand to my shoulder and rubbed it gently, comforting me.

“You are what we call a ‘Keeper,’ Ashlyn. It’s something very rare and special. You will grow to understand it as you get older. I will find you and help you. But until then, when this happens, remember to stay still. Don’t move. If you do, you will lose track of where you entered. In a few minutes you will return to where you were and everything will be alright again. If you stray from that spot, you will get stuck, sometimes for hours.”

“I don’t want it to happen again,” I said. The idea of it happening yet again was more frightening than when it had actually occurred.

“I know. I am working with other Keepers to insure that it doesn’t. Soon your father will be offered at permanent job at a top university. Don’t go anywhere with him that involves field work.”

“But I’m just a kid. I have to go where my dad goes. I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, but not in field work. Areas of previous historical happenings are often too overpowering for Keepers to handle. We will work toward that one day.”

I couldn’t think of any other questions for him. And somehow I knew that I wouldn’t be able to understand. He told me how to handle it until later, which was enough for now. And knowing that I wouldn’t be forced to go anywhere else that I didn’t want to was comforting all the same.

My hearing must have started returning with full force some time before then, because I could hear my dad’s footsteps coming back down the hospital hallway. Damien stepped back and stood against the wall. The instant his hand left my shoulder I felt the discomfort inside my stomach return.

I was more prepared to lie to my dad than I was to accept that I would have to face more incidents like this in the future.

“She’s been asking for you,” said Damien. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

“Thanks for watching her for a minute.”

“No problem.”

I watched as he walked away. As he left I felt the images of what I had seen that day come back with perfect clarity. The young men on the ground in the battlefield had barely been older than I was. I could smell the rot of bodies and the gunpowder permeating the air in the small hospital room. I don’t know if it was the realization of everything that had taken place or if it was the sight of Damien leaving. But I knew then that I would never feel completely safe without him there. He calmed me from the moment I saw him. And watching him walk away from me, not knowing when I would see him again, was something I never wanted to experience again.

I remember starting to tear after he was gone. My dad thought that I was overwhelmed by everything. And I was. In truth, I knew then that I didn’t want to wait for Damien to find me again. I wanted him near me.

Writing Goals For 2014

Maybe it’s a bit premature, but I have been thinking a lot about what I want to accomplish over the coming year, and what I want do over the next few months until then. I’m not sure how all this will pan out given the prospect of jobs, hopefully getting my own place, and all the details in between. But something tells me (probably my hopeful/positive thinking) that 2014 is going to be a good year.

I am in a new city, making new friends (when I get away from the computer and writing), and I will hopefully have more things going on outside of JUST writing. Because my worst fear right now is burning out.

So here it is:

Goal #1: Write 4-5 more books after January 1, 2014. I hear about other authors writing more than that, but I’m not counting short stories. I want to write some short stories in the mix as well and publish them. I want to write a sequel to ‘The Elder Origins’ and possibly a third one as well. I also want to write a sequel to ‘The Keeper’s Realm’ (releasing on September 28, 2014, plug intended). I am working on some ideas for a separate fantasy book from the one I’m working on right now, but its in the very beginning stages.

Goal #2: Have at least 1/4 of my income be from my books. Maybe this seems a bit far fetched or a tiny bit selfish, but I really do want some sort of income out of it someday. I know people say constantly that its not about the money, it’s about the story. But a girl’s got to have money to have the time to be able to write. If I ain’t eating, I ain’t writing. Simple as that. Not to mention that I have two other hungry mouths to feed. They will chew on my legs without that bowl of dog food to munch on.

Goal #3: I want to move out of get my own place. I need a sanctuary to focus. What I have right now is do-able. And that’s it. Do-able. I am making due with what I got. Not happy about it, but at least its a step up from my previous digs. A college dorm room and a small laptop. Now I’ve got a big monitor to plug my laptop into. Much nice. But still. The alone time would be ideal to get some more work done. Proved that when I house/dog sat for a friend over the weekend. The alone time really made an improvement on my productivity.

Goal #4: Have a good job. This goes without saying. Let’s face it. The economy sucks. And I am lucky to have family willing to take me in and allow me the time to get a job I like over a job I need. Of course, I am cooking, cleaning, and running everyone’s errands, so it’s hard to really see who is truly benefiting sometimes. o.O

Goal #5: Find an activity outside of writing. Whether it be going back into belly dance (which I love) or a fitness class, anything of that nature will do. And it will help me to meet new people in my new city.

Goal #6: Read 25 books. I know this may be an incredibly low number for some people. But I am a really slow reader. I read 25-35 pages per hour. Yeah. That’s slow. I can’t speed read like others can. Tried it, didn’t retain anything. Which made it tons of fun when it came around to reading x amount of pages for homework assignments. I would be looking at the white board in front of the class with the homework assignment of read 150 pages from said book and think to myself, “I’m gonna be up all night.”

So that’s it for me. Or at least for now. Maybe I will look back over it in the coming year ahead and see how I did. Anyone else have goals set out already for the coming year??

What Are This??

I was in a Jenna Marbles mood the other day watching her older videos when I realized that her new mantra of “What Are This?” is kinda like what I am experiencing right now. I have a bit of a unique thing going on with the current story I am working on, and it is a problem that I have not come across yet as a writer. So naturally, it’s bothering me enough to write a blog post about it.

As I sit here going through final edits of “The Keepers Realm,” I am also thinking about my new story. It was something that came about quite randomly. I was planning an entirely different story to start on when this one came to my head and I just went for it, writing like a machine for about a week. I have read that Amanda Hocking can write a book in a couple of weeks and I wondered if it was something that I could do. After 30,000 words I decided that it was something that was not meant for me, because I didn’t even know enough about what I had to keep going. I need time to explore a plot a bit in my mind before really hammering into it.

Sorry Amanda, but the whole writing a whole book in under two weeks really hurt my brain. Tried it, doesn’t work for me.

Then after those 30,000 words, I decided that about 6,000 of them weren’t very good were and the remaining 24,000 had some potential for something cool. Then I wondered if the story was too much like Keepers, only to realize that it was something entirely different. Then I thought maybe the entire thing is stupid. WHAT ARE THIS?? Where the hell is this going? Is this unique enough? Is there a lot of other material like this out there or too much?? GAH!!

I am not giving up on it, no, no, no. I plan on continuing with it. I even have some ideas for what the main plot is going to be once I get my new character, Shawn, out of a dirty mess and allow her to figure out what is happening to her. Because quite frankly, not even I knew until two nights ago.

Outlining and planning might have its place for some people, but for me… there is nothing more exciting than finding out what is going on with a character at the same time she does. That AHA moment is what I love and write for.

Shawn has some tough days ahead of her. That much I know.

 

 

“The Elder Origins” – The Movie (In my daydreams…)

When I write, I see everything in my head as if it were a movie. Strange, I know. Maybe not everyone does that and maybe it’s because I am a huge movie buff. But I thought it would be fun to cast my DREAM cast for “The Elder Origins.”

So as I sit here, listening once again to the song that inspired the story for me, “Breathe of Life” by Florence + the Machine (the original version), I lie around thinking of who would be my perfect Jayden, Madison, Jamison…etc. Here is what I came up with.

First of all, my main lady.

I imagine someone like Lily Collins, or maybe Emma Watson for Madison. She is small, frail, young, quick tempered, and strong as hell. So I think that this lovely actress, as well as many others would fit the bill well.

*~*~*~*~*

Michael Fassbender would definitely be Jayden. I know this might creep some out because of the age different between these two actors (Lily & Michael), but keep in mind, this was medieval times. I actually considered making Madison younger at one point because at 17, she probably would have been married with children already. So considering the times, their age difference would be appropriate.

Anyway, Jayden is incredibly strong willed, arrogant, a survivor, quick witted, sarcastic…yeah. I can definitely see Michael Fassbender as Jayden in my head.

*~*~*~*~*

James McAvoy would be my Jamison. He is fiercely loyal, an adventurer, loving, caring, hard working, mature, and doting on his younger sister Madison. He is also incredibly intelligent. James McAvoy was the the first to come to my mind in the line up for the characters of this book.

*~*~*~*~*

Paul Bettany has played it all. The good guy, the bad guy. He can be utterly charming or incredibly dangerous. Making him perfect for Lyndon. He is a strong captain and caregiver for the people of the voyage. But when push comes to shove, he is a survivor, no matter what the cost.

*~*~*~*~*

 

Neal McDonough just has something dangerous in his eyes. I loved him in Timeline and Band of Brothers. Caspar, let’s face it, is unpredictable. Just like this guy above. He can play any kind of character. Including a psycho, which he was in a film with Al Pacino that I can’t remember the name of right now. *shrugs*. Yeah, I pick him.

*~*~*~*~*

Jay Tavare… can we all take a moment to just stare at the epic-ness? *Drools* Okay, finished? He would be my Inazin. Even though Inazin is a little bit older in the books, that’s the magic of makeup. Inazin is gentle, kind hearted, compassionate, and above all, mysterious.  As if the film with this casting wouldn’t have enough eye candy, he just sends it over the edge.

*~*~*~*~*

That would be my dream cast. I have decided to get working on a sequel for ‘The Elder Origins’ right away. So maybe there will be more dream casting soon to come.