R. Scott Boyer's Blog, page 14

Sample Chapter

With the recent release of my second book, Bobby Ether and the Temple of Eternity, I wanted to offer up an idea of what the sequel has in store for readers. Following is the first chapter, which can also be found on the book’s homepage, here. Note—this chapter contains spoilers for anyone who hasn’t finished book one. Fair warning!

Chapter 1

Bobby Ether sat at the white laminate table in his family’s kitchen and looked across at his parents. It had been nearly three months since the fourteen-year-old from Bayside, California, returned from the Academy. Everything seemed different somehow, from the worn linoleum with its faded sunflowers to the Formica counter top with its chipped corners. Even the carefully cultivated herb garden outside the window wasn’t quite as he remembered.

Worry lines showed on his father’s ruggedly handsome face as Nathaniel Ether put on his suit and tie, preparing to head off to work. Bobby’s mother, Grace, wore a matching expression of angst, obscuring her otherwise rosy countenance.

Bobby frowned and kicked the leg of the table with the tip of his black-and-white checkered Vans. “But it’s not fair,” he said. “It’s only for a few hours.” He leaned back, running a hand through pale blond hair the color of hay bales in the bright sun, grown out since his buzz-cut days at the Academy.

“We’ve been over this before,” said his mother. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go anywhere right now.”

Indeed they had been over the topic before—many, many times. Following Bobby’s return, his rescuers—Chief, Grandpa, and Cassandra—all sat down with Bobby’s parents and told them the truth about the secret monastery in Tibet where Bobby had been taken. They explained how the headmistress had turned out to be Grandpa’s long lost daughter, and Bobby’s aunt. Chief had also told Bobby’s parents what he could about the Core—the secret organization dedicated to advancing metahuman abilities as the next stage in human evolution—and how the Core had tested the Academy’s students in order to find worthy candidates for their perverse experiments. Only a series of clues left by his clairvoyant grandfather had allowed Bobby and his younger cousin, Jinx, to foil the headmistress’s plot and escape.

Despite having known about Grandpa’s special talents for years, it was clearly still hard for Bobby’s parents to believe that their son had been at a secret monastery on the other side of the world. Even now, after nearly three months, they still tended to act like he had simply been away at summer camp. It had proven to be both a blessing and a curse.

At first, just seeing his parents alive and recovered from the car accident staged by the headmistress was enough to make him giddy. Lately, however, Bobby had begun to feel confined, almost as if the space around him had shrunk while he was away.

His mother sat across the table, her mousy, shoulder-length hair pulled up in a bun to reveal the delicate features of her slender face. Even from behind her librarian-style reading glasses, Bobby could see the concern etched in her dark green eyes.

“What is it, Bobby?” she asked softly. “Whatever it is, we want to help.”

Bobby tugged at the seam of his loose-fitting jeans. The last time he’d seen his best friends was on sublevel five of the Academy’s archives. He’d promised to help Trevor, Lily, and Jacob, but since escaping through the Spine of the World and discovering the truth about Cassandra and Chief, he’d been unable to keep that promise. By the time he and all of his companions had made it back up to the remains of the ancient monastery, there was no trace of his friends. In fact, there hadn’t been signs of anyone, living or dead. Now, after almost an entire summer spent reunited with his family, he felt as guilty for the time gone by as he did about his own happiness at being home.

Bobby frowned, knowing he couldn’t verbalize an answer that would satisfy his parents. Just then, the doorbell rang. His father gave Bobby a look that let him know the conversation was not over and stood up. Tall and handsome, Nathan Ether moved with the grace of a natural athlete except for the slight limp in his right leg where three metal rods had been inserted to repair his shattered femur as a result of the accident.

He was back a moment later with visitors. “Jinx!” said Bobby, jumping out of his chair to greet his cousin. “You’re back. What did you think?”

Theodore “Jinx” Grayson had also let his hair grow out since leaving the Academy. The bird’s nest of russet curls perched atop a cherubic face with rosy cheeks currently pushed up in a huge smile. “It was almost impossible to believe at first,” said Jinx with a glance over his shoulder at Chief, who had driven him here and whose compound, the Eagle’s Nest, he was referring to. “The entire place is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The old Native American gave him a broad grin to indicate that Jinx was not the first to verbalize such an opinion.

“I’m learning so much,” said Jinx. He dropped his eyes to the floor. “I just wish the others were around to see it.”

“Speaking of the others,” said Bobby, “where are Grandpa and Cassandra?” Following the downfall of the Academy, Grandpa had made a habit of coming by the house regularly to visit Bobby, giving the two of them time to catch up and help Bobby readjust. Seeing Cassandra was still uncomfortable. She had been on his side all along, but it was still tough not to think of her as the enemy.

“Your grandfather and Cassandra have gone searching for your grandmother,” said Chief.

Bobby frowned. For over thirty years, the power of their love had kept Jeremiah and Melody apart with its unique energy that acted like a tracking beacon for the Academy. Following the abduction of their infant daughter at the hands of Simpkins and Hayward, Jeremiah and Melody were never willing to risk being together again.

Now that the Academy lay in ruins, it appeared that fate was conspiring once again to keep the two lovers apart.

“Apparently Melody moved almost a year ago and didn’t leave word for Jeremiah in their usual place—something he swears she’s never done before,” said Chief. “He and Cassandra have been searching for weeks, trying to figure out where she went. Last night the two of them finally got a lead pointing to South America. They took a flight and said they’ll be in contact when they know more.”

The room fell silent as everyone contemplated this news. Bobby missed his grandfather already. The old man’s wry wit and eternal optimism had been critical in helping Bobby deal with the depression that set in whenever he thought about the unknown fate of Lily, Trevor, Jacob, and the rest of the people at the Academy.

Chief broke the silence with a delicate cough. “Have you given any more thought to my offer?” he asked Bobby’s parents. Storm clouds brewed on Nathan Ether’s face over another worn-out topic. Chief wanted Bobby to come to the Eagle’s Nest to study and continue the training he’d started at the Academy. His parents, however, were far from enthusiastic about the idea of parting with their son again.

“I don’t see why it’s so important,” said his mother. “You yourself said that there’s no danger now that the Academy is destroyed.”

“I said there was no immediate danger,” said Chief, “but someone cleaned out that monastery, taking all the people along with the records from the headmistress’s secret lab. It’s safe to assume it was the Core, and if that’s the case, then it’s only a matter of time before they start going through those records. Once they do that, you can bet they’ll be interested in locating your son.”

“What is it you propose?” asked Bobby’s father.

“Your son needs to finish his training. He needs to learn to protect and defend himself. He can do that under my guidance at the Eagle’s Nest. He and Jinx can study and work together. At the very least we can train him to control his abilities. If he wants to study further and become part of the team—”

“Absolutely not,” said Grace Ether. “Now that I know what Jeremiah and Melody went through, I am not going to allow my son to grow up to be some kind of mutant. He’s going to stay right here where we can keep an eye on him.”

Nathan placed a hand on top of hers and squeezed gently. “Sweetie, I know how you feel, and I feel the same way. But maybe it’s time we asked Bobby what he wants. After all, it’s his life.”

With those words, Bobby suddenly understood what it was that felt different since he’d returned home. He dropped his eyes to the floor, unable to meet his parents’ gaze. “I don’t belong here,” he said finally. “This is still my home, and I love you both, but I’ve changed. I’m not the same naïve boy who only went to school, played basketball, and hung out with my friends. There are things that I’ve learned since then, things that I know exist but haven’t had time to fully comprehend. I think I need to go with Chief and learn what he has to teach me.”

Grace Ether put her arms around her husband, wiped a tear from her eye, and gave Bobby a weak smile. And just like that, the decision was made.

Cover Reveal

As promised, here is the illustrated cover for the second book in my Bobby Ether series, Bobby Ether and the Temple of Eternity. I hope you like it. I am also going to post the first chapter soon. Based upon the response and interest from my readers, I may go ahead and post a few more chapters after that as well—so be sure to leave a comment and let me know what you think.

PS – the book is now available via the publisher’s website and will be on Amazon, Kindle, and other retail outlets in the next few days.

 

Cover Reveal & Book Two Release

I am pleased to announce that the illustrated cover for my second book, Bobby Ether and the Temple of Eternity, is now complete. I will be revealing it on this site in the next few days after coordinating with a couple of host sites that have offered to help with a cover reveal. Check back later this week and let me know what you think of the new cover!

I am also thrilled to announce that the interior layout for book two is done. That means that the release date is now just days away! I am awaiting the arrival of the physical proof from the publisher and, barring any unforeseen problems, the book will go live shortly thereafter.

I will post the link to the publisher’s book site as soon as it becomes available.

It will take another week or two for the book to be listed on Amazon, Kindle, and in bookstores (B&N, etc.).

Also – for those of you on Netgalley, the book will be listed there for a limited time (hopefully starting early next week). Thus, if you have a Netgalley account and want to read the book for free, go right ahead. Either way, I am very proud of my second book and hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Am I a Writer?

Upon having an idea for a book or short story, one of the first questions many people ask themselves is: am I really a writer? They may have a plot, or perhaps a character begging to be brought to life, but they also often have a day job, a wife/husband, kids, mortgage, and in some cases, all of the above. The focus and commitment required to actually complete a novel can be overwhelming, prompting many people to ask themselves if they truly have what it takes.

Years ago when I was taking writing classes at UCLA Extension, I met many people pondering this question. In fact, every class was full of them. As I explored the depth of this topic on their behalf as well as my own, it occurred to me that most of us fell into one of two categories: (1) those that wrote whenever they had time; whether it was in the mornings before the kids went to school, during lunch breaks at work, or late at night when everyone else was fast asleep, and (2) those who weren’t actively writing and were taking the class in the hopes that paying for a course would motivate them to finally sit down and get to work on the idea they’d been carrying around in their heads for so long.

These two, roughly defined categories reminded me of my youth, when I use to be an avid basketball player. For over twenty-five years, I religiously showed up at the local gym, played for hours, and only went home when the gym closed or there was no one left to play with.

Back then basketball was in my blood. I’d never make it to the pros, but being away from the court for more than a few days still felt like a tangible pain—an ache deep inside me that could only be quenched by throwing on my Nikes and sweating it out on the hardwood.

In order to truly be a writer, you need that same type of passion. You need a hunger for words to carry you through the stretches were you’re not quite sure what comes next. You need the determination to stick with the story even when it’s hiding (For more on this topic, see my blog about the Pool).

And just like basketball, you need to work to get better. Just as I practiced lay-ups and jump shots, dribbling and passing, a writer practices by studying other authors and by writing and rewriting—constantly finding new, creative ways to express their ideas.

If you truly have the passion, you write regardless of your circumstances, just as I hobbled around the basketball court countless times with a bum shoulder or sprained ankle I’d twisted only moments earlier.

When it comes to the two types of people who want to be writers, the distinction is simple: one group finds a way, the other doesn’t. If you find yourself not writing, then chances are you aren’t a writer at heart. You may have the talent, but not the drive to sustain you. On the other hand, if you find yourself compelled to write regardless of skill or circumstance, then there’s a good chance it’s in your blood. In that case, keep going!

Remember: no one is born an expert. You need passion to carry you through the long journey to acquire even a modest level of expertise. The more you write, the better you become and, the better you become, the easier it will be to finally tell that story you’re carrying around inside you.

Camp Harmony Carnival

Two days ago, my busy summer of vacations, travel, and volunteering drew to a close with the last day of Camp Harmony. I’ve been involved with this summer camp program for homeless kids for the past fifteen years. The people and the program are both very dear to me, and yet another reason why writing for kids is close to my heart.

Below are a few homemade video which will hopefully help give you a sense of just how wonderful and magical this program is for the kids who get to experience a week of sports, swimming, arts and crafts, and so many other wonderful activities that help provide an invaluable respite from their normal lives.

PS — The teenagers you see in the video are counselors who pay to spend the week taking care of the younger, elementary school kids.

PSS — Sorry the video isn’t widescreen, I shot it on my iPhone in portrait rather than landscape :(

Advice to Beginning Writers

Yesterday, I came across a forum on Goodreads.com about writing advice for beginning writers. While already full of helpful suggestions from other authors, I decided to offer a few recommendations of my own—mainly as a means to crystalizing my own thoughts regarding what I feel is most important for someone first starting out.

Following is the advice I posted in the goodreads thread. I hope that you’re able to find something of value in it that either educates or inspires you to become a better writer.

Post from Goodreads forum (August 13, 2014):

I just wanted to add to some of the previous posts with two suggestions. One—remember that writing is an art, not a science. Two—always be a student.

These two recommendations go hand-in-hand. While there are no rules to writing, there are conventions. Knowing them will drastically help anyone considering writing their first novel. As for the art side—analyze your favorite authors. What do they do that you like/dislike? Perhaps you already have your own unique style. If not, study other writer’s to learn how/why their writing is effective.

As already noted by others, there are tons of posts/blogs about writing to help beginners. There are also online courses such as the UCLA Extension classes I took when I first started. If you already know how to maintain POV, develop plot, building characters, balance exposition with dialogue, etc., then you’re ahead of the curve. If not, do some research.

Being a willing student helped me more than anything else when it came to writing my first book. There were so many things I didn’t know when I first started: tell facts/show emotions, nothing happens nowhere, indirect vs direct dialog, active vs passive voice, etc.

Expect to do a lot of writing/rewriting before you’re happy with the results. Editing is key. Editing helps you track your own progress. Whenever you discover how to make one of your own sentences better, you’ve gained insight that will help make you a better writer.

Some lesser advice: maintaining both your confidence and focus is key. Don’t get discouraged no matter what other people think/say about what you produce. It’s a process. The goal is to make it good eventually, not immediately. Speaking of processes: find your own. As noted by many other posts on this thread, what works for others may not work for you. Knowing about various tools helps (i.e. scene summaries, character bios, etc.) but the deciding factor should be what works for you and nothing else.

I hope this helps. Good luck and remember: above all else, writers write.

 

Poem #3 – What Makes Me a Leader

Here is the third and final poem I wrote at Camp Paintrock in Wyoming while participating in the ‘Poetic Justice’ poetry session with the C5LA students.

As with the first poem ‘What Made Me,’ this last poem was also a topic chosen by the students. I wrote it as more of a channeling of the emotions I experienced from the students while at camp, rather than directly from my own perspective per se.

Again, I hope you enjoy both the poem as well as gain so insight into the C5 program and how it impacts the lives of the amazing students they work with.

What Makes Me a Leader

Followers follow

Leaders lead

The only real difference is confidence

How much confidence do you have?

I know how much confidence I have

Experience makes me a leader –

the willingness to share that experience with others

I may not know everything,

but I know things worth sharing

and I’m comfortable sharing

I’m comfortable in my skin

I’m not afraid to speak my mind

I’m not afraid to fail

Failure is an opportunity to learn

I have a strong moral center

People are willing to listen to me

because of who I am, not just what I say

Confident, comfortable, centered

What makes me a leader?

Choice

The Valley

Here is the second poem I wrote while at Camp Paintrock in Wyoming. As you can imagine, the country is quite spectacular there. The embedded picture simply can’t do it justice. I imagine my poem can’t either, but you can’t blame a guy for trying.

The Valley

Green so bright it’s blinding

Sky so blue it stretches for days

Open air

The smell of dry grass

The murmuring river caresses my ears

The warm sun kisses my skin

The valley tastes of freedom,

offering serenity and peace

Horses graze in the field

Falcons soar on invisible thermals

The valley speaks of peace

The laughing brook echoes the laughing leaders

The breeze blows and life flourishes

And the valley rejoices

Camp Poetry

A few days ago, I returned from a weeklong trip to Wyoming where I spent time with the wonderful staff and students of the C5LA program. Part of my purpose in going was to teach my first ever writing class and help introduce the basics of creative writing to the thirty six young men and women who are working so hard to get into colleges and become leaders.

Along with activities such as rocks (climbing/repelling), white-water rafting, and the eco-challenge (overnight camping trip into the Wyoming backcountry), I participated in a ‘Poetic Justice’ poetry writing workshop. While not a poet by any means, I nevertheless wrote a few verses that I thought might be fun to share.

Below is the first poem, entitled “What Made Me” – a topic chosen by the class. A few days from now, I will post the second one, “The Valley,” which was of my own choosing. The last poem, “What Makes Me A Leader,” will likely be posted early next week. Again, this topic was chosen by the class and should give you a  sense of what the students focused and worked on daily at Camp Paintrock.

I hope you enjoy all three poems. As mentioned before, I normally don’t write poetry but thought this might make for a fun change of pace. I offer all three poems unedited and in their original format following the class’s ten minute writing session. I realize they could all be made (much) better with editing, but part of the beauty of this particular poetry session was the spontaneity with which the verses sprang to mind. Thus, since I have no intention of ever publishing them anywhere aside from this website, I’ve elected not to alter their original inspired structure.

What Made Me

People who set an example

Positive experiences when I needed them most

Nurturing

The drive to be better than who I was

The ambition to be  better than who I am

Age begets wisdom

Life

Pain – learning from my mistakes

Love

Family – my source for unconditional love

Friends – the family I choose

What made me? Everything around me

Everything I was born with

Everything I was born without but wanted to possess

What made me?

My life made me

And I made my life

Connecting with Kids

A few months ago I wrote an article about Camp Harmony, a wonderful program that provides summer and winter camp programs for homeless kids throughout Los Angeles. A few days from now, I will head to Wyoming to participate in another program dear to me called C5LA. Originally the Coca-Cola Foundation, C5LA’s mission is “to change the odds for high-potential teens from risk-filled environments, inspiring them to pursue personal success, and preparing them for leadership roles in college, work and their communities.”

I am thrilled to be part of this program and to be invited back to Camp Paintrock. The volunteer work I do with children is directly related to my writing, which is geared toward young adults and teenagers. To me, there is no better feeling than to positively impact the life of a child. Originally only through my volunteer efforts, and now through my writing as well, I seek to motivate and inspire kids to become the best versions of themselves they can be.

Four years ago, when I went to Camp Paintrock for the first time, I possessed little to offer beyond the ability to coach basketball. While a potentially interesting diversion, that skill held little pragmatic application for these kids, who are trying to develop life skills to help them succeed in college and beyond.

Now, after honing my skills as a writer and publishing my first novel, I’m thrilled to be returning to camp with a new purpose in hand. Over the next week, I’ll be running group workshops and one-on-one sessions to teach kids about writing. With a little luck, I hope to share the wonder and beauty of the creative process, as well as show them that writing can be a magnificent and powerful tool, not just for homework and essays, but for expression, passion, art, and beauty. I will share with them my stories and hope to help them capture some of their own as well. I have no doubt that I will learn as much as I teach, and can’t wait to get started.

To find out more about C5LA or United In Harmony and learn how you can get involved or make a donation, visit their websites or contact me at scoby27@yahoo.com. I’m happy to put anyone interested directly in touch with the people who run either wonderful organization.