Scott Eder's Blog: The Mad Muncle's Forge

Fire it Up!

The Forge's coals have been banked for too long. What with bowling and writing and Cons, I haven't spent much time with the metaphorical hammer and tongs. Time for that to change. Time for some new stuff. Let's start with some news and a new short story.


Knight of Flame won a Gold medal for Contemporary Fantasy in Dan Poynter's 2014 World Ebook Awards!  








 




My new short story, "The Last Dregs of Winter," is available in a great new anthology from WordFire Press, One Horn to Rule Them All: A Purple Unicorn Anthology . 


Can you believe it? An entire collection of short stories featuring purple unicorns. That's the kind of magic that happens at the Superstars Writing Seminar. Helmed by Kevin J. Anderson and Rebecca Moesta, Superstars is the best seminar in the galaxy on the topics of being a professional writer. All proceeds from the sale of One Horn goes to the Superstars scholarship fund. And it all started as a silly example. 
One of the presentations given by Kevin and Rebecca is about how to act like a professional writer. One of their points is if you are invited to submit a story to an anthology, you had better write the best darn story you can because to someone, it will be his or her first exposure to your writing. It doesn't matter if you hate the topic. If you agree to write the story, don't "phone it in". Even if the anthology is about Purple Unicorns, and you hate Purple Unicorns, the readers who buy that book want to read about Purple Unicorns. Therefore, it is in your best interest to write the best Purple Unicorn story you can. Make sense? 
They used that example for a few years, an each year the class talks about really writing those stories. In 2014, Lisa Mangum, the Managing Editor for Shadow Mountain, attended as a guest speaker. Kevin and Rebecca gave their talk using the Purple Unicorn example. Lisa fell in love with the idea and offered to donate her editing time if Kevin would publish the finished book through WordFire Press. They invited top authors like Jody Lynn Nye, Todd McAffrey and Peter S. Beagle to submit, while opening most of the story slots up to Superstars' alumni. And the result? An amazing anthology filled with wildly different takes on the Purple Unicorn theme. 
Check it out this awesome new anthology.    One Horn to Rule Them All: A Purple Unicorn Anthology . 
That's it for now. I'll post a Con update soon. 
Have fun,Scott        

The Science of Mind Magic - Guest Post by Christine Amsden

[The Mad Muncle is very pleased to welcome Christine Amsden back to the Forge. Her new release, Mind Games , the next book in the beloved Cassie Scot series, recently hit the shelves. Check it out. That's enough of my hot air, here's Christine:]  
The trouble with mind magic is: How do you know if someone's controlling you?
You could drive yourself crazy wondering if your thoughts are your own or the product of someone else's superior will. In the world of magic, there is something inherently sinister about the idea that one person can mess with someone else's thoughts, feelings, and desires. This is a theme I've been building from the first book in this series, Cassie Scot: ParaNormal Detective, when Edward Scot says:
“Magic itself is never black, only the uses to which it is put, but mind magic is already tinted a deep, dark gray.”
Matthew Blair, a telepathic mind mage who takes center stage in Mind Games (Cassie Scot #3), disagrees. His response to this statement is:
“Any kind of power is already tinted a deep, dark gray. Haven’t you ever heard that power corrupts?”
Of course Matthew would say that. He's a mind mage and he's actively trying to manipulate our heroine, but as with all skilled manipulators he understands the power of truth and subtlety.
Mind control is not a uniquely magical phenomenon. People try to influence us wherever we go in subtle and overt ways. When you go to the store, the packaging of the products you browse screams at you, “Pick me! Pick me!” Retailers know how to use product placement to maximum affect (as every mother who has ever taken children through a candy-filled checkout knows). Advertisers bombard you with messages that work on your mind even when you don't know it. Drug companies fill the airwaves these days with medicine most of us don't need at any given moment, but they know you'll remember when the time is right.
There are people in the real world who possess charisma – a trait I've lent a quasi-magical aspect to in my series. But you know what I mean. Some people just exude charm and grace and a little bit of “trust me.” Trendsetters. Natural leaders. Born politicians. Shapers of men and of the minds of men (and women). These people fill our minds with thoughts we embrace as our own, sometimes without our even realizing we have done so.
Before you ask – no, I'm not one of those people. I could wish, but in person I tend to be a little bit awkward. I'm much better at expressing myself through the written word.
One of the pointless (circular) existential questions I sometimes like to ask myself is: What do I fervently believe that is simply not true? And since I am so certain of this truth, why would I ever seek to correct that impression? I don't consider myself to be a close-minded person (who does?) but I can only be open-minded when I am aware of a possible discrepancy. I must see that something in the world is inconsistent with my core beliefs. I have to get caught in a lie.
Getting back to the world of magical mind control, I often see authors going to extreme lengths when it comes to mind magic. Direct, obvious controls that the hero is just strong-willed enough to throw off because he or she has a superior... spirit? Intellect? Force of will? A little bit of all those things, I suppose.
In this story, I wanted to show how hard it would be for even a strong-willed individual to throw off competently woven mind magic. This isn't about strength at all, but skill. Matthew Blair tells Cassie in chapter one that he is a telepath and “hears” everything she thinks. He says this to her because he senses that Cassie will be drawn to the truth, and drawn to the genuine sense of alienation he feels because of his power. Cassie has always been drawn to help people in need. Matthew knows this about her, and he uses it against her.
To beat Matthew, Cassie will have to learn things about herself that make her stronger. She is going to have to face certain truths that she has been running from for two books.
Ultimately, she has to figure out that it's happening. How can you change your mind if you don't know it needs changing?
If that's too heavy for you, feel free to enjoy this book as a fun magical mystery. Here are a couple of lighter reader questions to ponder:
1. Would you want to be a telepath? (Why?)2. Would you want to date a telepath? (Why?)


Thanks Christine. Readers, if you haven't read Cassie Scot yet, now's your chance. The first book in the series, Cassie Scot: Paranormal Detective , is on sale for $.99 for a limited time. 

Amazing New Mad Muncle Artwork from Brad Fraunfelter, cover artist for Knight of Flame

I was so excited about the new Mad Muncle artwork that I forgot to launch it on my blog. So here goes. Ahem...ladies and gentlemen, fans of all things amazing and wonderful, I'm thrilled, and a bit overwhelmed truth be told, to present the Mad Muncle. Behold!


The Mad Muncle's Forge
This gorgeous piece was created by the amazing Brad Fraunfelter. That's him to the right. Seems like a happy fellow, don't you think?



Through the use of modeling, photography, lighting, and other...artisticy (I've been told that's the technical term) type things, he creates beautiful images full of light and color and awesome. Check out the composite below, taking us from concept sketch to finished work. Magical!



And to think, it all started with his cover sketch of an intense fireball, Develor Quinteele, the sixth Knight of Flame.



Brad's done many book covers and other magnificent pieces. You can find more great examples of his work, a glimpse behind the curtain into his process, and even buy prints at Brad Fraunfelter Illustrations. Check him out.

The Writing Process Blog Hop

My friend and fellow Twilight Times Books author, MariaDeVivo, asked me to join in the fun of The Writing Process Blog Hop. Check out Maria's novel, The Coal Elf , to get your YA Dark Fantasy fix. Yes! Santa is real. But this isn't your childhood Christmas tale. The story is a lot of fun, and with over 100 5-star reviews on Amazon, you won't be disappointed. Check it out.

For the blog hop, I answered a few writerly-type questions, and tagged a few of my friends to do the same on their blogs. Keep a look out for their posts next week.
·       What are you working on?I'm finishing up the second book in The Chronicles of the Knights Elementalis series, Knight of Air. The story continues three weeks after the events in Knight of Flame, and adds the point-of-view of Cyndralla, the Knight of Air. In addition, I'm working on the outline for a novella set in the Knights Elementalis universe focusing on Cyndralla's past. We only catch the barest glimpse of her back story in the first book, and I wanted to prime the pump for book two. Look for the yet to be named novella to come out in the Fall, 2014.
·       How does your work differ from others in its genre? I have a hard time with this question. It's not that Knight of Flame, and the Knights Elementalis series, isn't unique, far from it. I just find it difficult to say why it differs. I would much prefer to tell the readers what it IS…and that, at its core, Knight of Flame, in fact the whole series, is a story about relationships.  Sure there are all kinds of cool and groovy action, and magic, and dragons, and humor, and tragedy, and honor, and…  But, when all is said and done, it's the relationships that drive everything else.
·       Why do you write what you write?I write what I love to read—character/relationship-driven stories of love and honor, good versus evil, set within a fantasy universe. It just so happens that my fantasy universe lives and breathes within our modern world, hidden (or sometimes not so hidden) in plain sight for those curious enough to look.
·       What is your writing process?I'm a hard-core plotter. I need that roadmap of what happens when, where and to whom in order to make the story elements fit together. Writing from multiple POV's presents the challenge/opportunity of telling the story from different angles through the eyes of fleshed out characters, each with his or her own goals, motivation, and emotional baggage.
My outline consists of a scene-by-scene breakdown of the entire novel. Within each scene description, I determine the setting, POV character, additional characters, emotional drivers, and objectives. Each scene must accomplish at least three things in the story otherwise it gets cut or combined with another scene. Once I know what happens and where "things" go, so to speak, I start writing.
I use the outline as a guide only—a map from the beginning to the end. It is not the end all, be all of the storytelling. That still happens during the writing. I come up with new and exciting ways to torture my characters all the time. The plot lives and breathes until I finish multiple edits, and lock everything down. If you're looking for ways to improve your writing, please check out David Farland's writing courses. His classes are amazing.            

Look for The Writing Process Blog Hop post from this fine author next week:

Colette Black - When Colette isn't caring for her family, dogs, and a mischievous cat, she spends her time writing. Born and raised in the United States, she has also lived in the Philippines and Switzerland. Currently, she resides in the far outskirts of Phoenix, Arizona, where she loves the warm weather and the cotton fields. Colette's newest release, Noble Ark, is available at Amazon and will release to all major book sellers April 25th. Her short story anthology, The Black Side, released March 1st and you can find her recent story, Watchboy, through Isotropic Fiction. For more information, go to www.coletteblack.net

Book Signings ��� Always Bring Extra Copies

The Superstars Writing Seminar is an amazing experience. The information about the business side of being a professional writer is presented fast and hard, like drinking from a fire hose, by best-selling authors and experts in the field. After wrapping up, I leave with my brain overflowing, and my creative soul bursting at the seams.

One of the most important pieces of advice I took away from this year's seminar came about in a casual conversation over dinner. I had the privilege of spending a few hours with NYT best-selling author Brandon Sanderson. The conversation ranged from royalties, to plotting, to anything and everything Brandon related. When I mentioned that I had a Barnes & Noble signing coming up, he offered up some practical advice. He said to always bring extra copies of your book. Don���t try to sell them yourself because the bookstore wouldn���t appreciate that; however, you can work out a deal to sell your copies as if the store had ordered the books themselves. After the event, they can order books to replace the ones out of your stock. It's a simple and elegant plan where everyone wins. And I had the opportunity to test it out.    This past weekend I participated in my second book signing. The Brandon, FL Barnes & Noble hosted an event for several local authors. We were a magnificent group of seven, with books spanning the genres from thriller to self-help, religion, inspirational, and my contemporary fantasy. No two authors' genres overlapped, so we had a little bit of everything to offer. After setting up, and before the signing officially started, we mingled a little, handing out business cards and exchanging information. Everyone was really cool.For a local author event like this, Barnes & Noble is pretty conservative. According to their stats, most authors only sell four or five copies. Just in case, they may order a few more. They ordered ten copies of Knight of Flame with the expectation they might have some left over. I was concerned. I shouted the details for the signing from every physical and virtual rooftop I could find, so I had high hopes that I'd have a decent turn out. That being said, I didn���t want anyone who made the trip to the book store to walk away without a signed book. Other authors had said that Barnes & Noble wouldn't let them sell their own books when the store's stock ran dry. Readers wanting a book had to have it shipped to their house. While they did eventually get a book, it wasn't signed. So, keeping Brandon's advice in mind, I brought extra copies in the hope the store would go for the plan. There is a difference in the author selling directly versus providing additional stock for Barnes & Noble to sell. On the day of the signing, I sold out of the B&N copies in the first thirty minutes. It was awesome. At one point I actually had a line four deep. As the stock dwindled and we still had ninety minutes left in the schedule, I made the suggestion Brandon talked about. At first, the Customer Relations Manager thought I suggested selling my books on consignment, and didn't go for it. But, once I explained that I was allowing them to sell my stock as if it was their own, after mulling it over, she went for it. Sweet! I grabbed a few copies from my bag and kept signing. The bottom line is it���s really a win-win-win. The store sells more books, and makes their customers happy. The readers get what they came for -- a signed book. The author gets the additional sales, happy readers, and a stronger relationship with the book store. It helps to be prepared. Good luck with your own book signings. Have fun,Scott"Against the Shadow, burns a noble light."

Book Signings – Always Bring Extra Copies

The Superstars Writing Seminar is an amazing experience. The information about the business side of being a professional writer is presented fast and hard, like drinking from a fire hose, by best-selling authors and experts in the field. After wrapping up, I leave with my brain overflowing, and my creative soul bursting at the seams.

One of the most important pieces of advice I took away from this year's seminar came about in a casual conversation over dinner. I had the privilege of spending a few hours with NYT best-selling author Brandon Sanderson. The conversation ranged from royalties, to plotting, to anything and everything Brandon related. When I mentioned that I had a Barnes & Noble signing coming up, he offered up some practical advice. He said to always bring extra copies of your book. Don’t try to sell them yourself because the bookstore wouldn’t appreciate that; however, you can work out a deal to sell your copies as if the store had ordered the books themselves. After the event, they can order books to replace the ones out of your stock. It's a simple and elegant plan where everyone wins. And I had the opportunity to test it out.    This past weekend I participated in my second book signing. The Brandon, FL Barnes & Noble hosted an event for several local authors. We were a magnificent group of seven, with books spanning the genres from thriller to self-help, religion, inspirational, and my contemporary fantasy. No two authors' genres overlapped, so we had a little bit of everything to offer. After setting up, and before the signing officially started, we mingled a little, handing out business cards and exchanging information. Everyone was really cool.For a local author event like this, Barnes & Noble is pretty conservative. According to their stats, most authors only sell four or five copies. Just in case, they may order a few more. They ordered ten copies of Knight of Flame with the expectation they might have some left over. I was concerned. I shouted the details for the signing from every physical and virtual rooftop I could find, so I had high hopes that I'd have a decent turn out. That being said, I didn’t want anyone who made the trip to the book store to walk away without a signed book. Other authors had said that Barnes & Noble wouldn't let them sell their own books when the store's stock ran dry. Readers wanting a book had to have it shipped to their house. While they did eventually get a book, it wasn't signed. So, keeping Brandon's advice in mind, I brought extra copies in the hope the store would go for the plan. There is a difference in the author selling directly versus providing additional stock for Barnes & Noble to sell. On the day of the signing, I sold out of the B&N copies in the first thirty minutes. It was awesome. At one point I actually had a line four deep. As the stock dwindled and we still had ninety minutes left in the schedule, I made the suggestion Brandon talked about. At first, the Customer Relations Manager thought I suggested selling my books on consignment, and didn't go for it. But, once I explained that I was allowing them to sell my stock as if it was their own, after mulling it over, she went for it. Sweet! I grabbed a few copies from my bag and kept signing. The bottom line is it’s really a win-win-win. The store sells more books, and makes their customers happy. The readers get what they came for -- a signed book. The author gets the additional sales, happy readers, and a stronger relationship with the book store. It helps to be prepared. Good luck with your own book signings. Have fun,Scott"Against the Shadow, burns a noble light."

Book Signing on March 1st at the Brandon, FL Barnes & Noble

The Mad Muncle wants to remind everyone about the upcoming book signing. The Brandon Town Center Barnes & Noble is hosting a multi-author event on March 1st from 1:00-3:00. Stop in, say "Hi", and pick up your signed copy of Knight of Flame.

On the Other Side of the Table - Book Signing Tips

I've been to many sci-fi/fantasy conventions over the years. I've anxiously walked up to an author's table for his precious signature and a moment to talk about his work. I love to hear the passion from the author directly. No amount of marketing text or a silver-penned hook on the back can encapsulate the author's vision, the gift of his soul bound between the shiny covers. Nothing beats that in-person experience. 

Over the weekend I had my first experience on the other side of the table. It was my turn to be that author, to talk to existing and potential readers about Knight of Flame. And you know what? It was glorious. Did I sell a lot of books? Nope. I sold four. It was a small show in the back room of a very nice comic book store. I was the only author surrounded by eight or nine very talented Indy comic book artists. They sold prints and sketches. The artist next to me, Javier, sold like five sketches to eager fans. It didn't matter which beloved character requested, Javier banged out an amazing custom piece in about twenty minutes. And the fans were thrilled. So was I. I'm a big superhero fan, after all, and love to watch a talented artist bring a drawing to life.
So there I was surrounded by a room full of artists doing what they do…drawing. Many heroes and creatures were born that day. What the heck was a novelist doing in that room? "Hey kid, for ten bucks I'll write you a paragraph." Yeah…no. A collection of words, no matter how poetic, meaningful, and life-altering, could not compete against a detailed sketch of Thor bowling, or Batman playing Yahtzee across the table from Deadpool and Cinderella.
What I was doing there, aside from drinking in the creative ambience and soaking up the coolness of every second someone wanted to talk about Knight of Flame, was learning. This was my first event, and I wanted to cut my teeth in a small venue before taking my show to bigger events later this year.
I'd done my homework. In the weeks before the show, I'd read several blogs on the topic and an ebook by David Farland, Blockbuster Book Signings!, to clue me in on the basics. Farland's book dealt mainly with staging bigger events, headliners where I'd be the main attraction and how to draw in the crowds. While all good information, I'm not there yet. Talk to me in a few books and we'll see. Still, I found several tips that really helped out.
Based on what I learned during this event, here's my signing plan going forward. There are three key areas to address:1.      Planning
2.      Presentation
3.      Attitude

Planning – Once the event has been scheduled, getting the word out is critical. The venue will advertise to some extent, but the author needs to spread the word to the best of her ability. Tell everyone via email, social media, and every other means at the her disposal about the upcoming event. The more people who attend, the more successful the event. The more successful the event, the greater the likelihood that the venue will invite that author back for her next book.
In addition to the advertising, make sure to stock up on the essentials—giveaways, candy, supplies, product. We'll talk more about each of those in a minute. Oh, don't forget to bring enough change. Turning away a sale due to a lack of small bills would be a crime. I'm a very lucky guy in that my wife thinks of everything. She made sure that before I left the house, I had plenty of ones and fives to make enough change for every one of my books twice over. It came in handy too. The artist next to me might have lost a few sales if I hadn't hooked him up.
 
Presentation – I'm going to spend the most time here, because this requires the most thought and effort. Let's start from the bare bones and work our way up. Assume the presentation space will be nothing more than a plain table, and it's our job to prepare a feast for the eyes, something that will pop, and draw in potential readers. Keep in mind that a professional looking presentation space speaks volumes about the person sitting behind that table.   

 
·         Table cloth – When buying a table at a con or event, it's impossible to know what state that table will be in. It could be an old wooden table that has seen one too many cons, or a stained plastic mess. No worries. Cover that bad boy up. Bring a table cloth or two in a color that compliments the product on display. My book cover is black with orange accents, so I might choose a white cover. Even though I prefer black, the book would blend too closely with the table cloth. I want Knight of Flame to appear to leap off the table. I got lucky this time. I didn't have a table cloth for this event, but the table itself wasn't too bad, and I covered most of it with my "stuff".

I will have one for the next event.


·         Banners/Signage – A colorful banner proclaiming who resides on the other side of the table helps to draw in future fans. Most events provide a little paper sign with the author's name that sits flat on the table. Most people would need to be right in front of the table to read who's there. The heck with that. Develop a colorful image that screams an appropriate message, and either tie it across the front of the table or hang it from a stand behind it. If possible do both. Be seen. Get noticed. Stand out. If someone tries to put Baby in the corner, everyone will still see her.  
The artist across the aisle from me, Stephen, unrolled a banner and clipped it to the front of his table. It was colorful, simple, and proclaimed exactly who sat at that table. I wanted to bring a banner, looked into it in fact, but the artwork I had in mind wasn't of a high enough resolution to print on a large (4'-6') scale, so I let it slide for this show. But seeing Stephen's banner across the front of his table made a big difference in terms of perception. It screamed "I'm a pro. Check out my work." And the fans did.
I will have a banner for my next signing.

   
·         Product– Having a good product to display is critical. Beautiful covers sell. Period. A striking cover displayed prominently will draw interest. Set several copies of the book on stands to make that cover easier to see. Just laying the book flat on the table is fine for those already standing there, but won't catch the eye of the visitor a table or two away.  
I printed the cover on photo-quality paper, and displayed it in a picture frame. For the next show, I'd like to print it up poster sized and hang it up behind me either on the wall or using one of those telescoping stands, drawing the eye of potential readers from across the room or down the aisle.



·         Snacks - Con/event attendees like snacks. Who can resist a little chocolate or a mint? Lure them in with candy, and pounce like a world-class diner waitress as soon as their mouth is full. That'll provide a few seconds to hook them. Make them so interested in the book that they can't walk away without either buying a book or taking a card.
For this show, I picked up a tub of soft chewy mints and a big bag of Hershey's miniatures from Sam's Club. I set the mints at one end of the table, and the chocolate at the other to catch people from both sides. People stopped to munch, which led to a quick conversation. Candy is dandy, my friends. Use it.

·         Mementos (takeaways) – If someone buys a signed book, she has something to take home to remind her of the experience. But what about the other people who stop by the table? Not every sale is generated in the moment. Some happen after the show. The important thing is to make a positive impression and to ensure that a potential reader takes something home to remember the experience. In his web classes, NYT best-seller Tracy Hickman talks about creating a memento of the author-reader meeting. A bookmark is just a bookmark, but a signed bookmark is a piece of memorabilia. It becomes a reminder, or souvenir. It adds that personal touch that can differentiate an author. When thinking about what a reader can take away from the signing table, try to inject that personal touch.
I totally agree with Tracy's philosophy on this and ordered rack cards months ago to hand out in my travels. Rack cards (3.9" x 8.3") are bigger than normal book marks, showcasing the book cover and allowing for marketing text on the back. I think they are the perfect size to act as a bookmark for trade paperbacks and hard covers.

On mine, I added the first few lines of my back cover copy, a promo blurb from David Farland, and a QR code that points to the first five chapters of the book on my publisher's website. Below that I left enough space to sign. At the comic book event, Javier saw me with a normal pen in hand set to sign the card, and yelled over. "Dude! What are you doing? You gotta go bold." He tossed me a gold marker. I signed cards in gold the rest of the day. For the books I still used a regular pen, but the cards…. On my list of things to get for the next show are a collection of different colored markers to step up the boldness factor.
In terms of display, I fanned the cards out across my table, and laid a stack next to a copy of Knight of Flame.  
 
·         Professionalism– All of the above combine to not only display the product, but to showcase the author's level of professionalism, which, in my opinion, goes a long way to promote the book. In actuality, while the author may push his latest release, he's really selling himself. Be prepared.


Attitude: Be open. Be cheerful. And above all, be nice. I've talked about this in other blog posts, but it is most decidedly true when talking to your future fan base. Be inviting. No one wants to stop and talk to a grump. Say, "Hello." Smile. Make eye contact. Engage the passersby with a simple, leading question like, "Do you like to read fantasy?" Once they answer, ask another, and steer them toward the topics of your book. Don't pressure them. Engage. Discuss. Close the sale. Offer a takeaway. Wish them well. That's it. Easy peasy. 

Keep in mind these public events are not all about the sales numbers. Sure, we'd like to sell lots of books, but I believe the key to a successful event is in making that personal connection. Sales can happen any time. Face-to-face meetings, not so much. Make it the best it can be with a little up front planning, a strong presentation, and the right attitude. Be bold.

Another Hot New Release from Twilight Times Books - Dragon Fire - by Dina von Lowenkraft

[When the Mad Muncle heard about Dina's debut YA fantasy, Dragon Fire, he couldn't wait to tell the world. That day has finally come. Not only does he get to share the goods, but Ms. von Lowenkraft has graciously provided a bit of world building wisdom. Enjoy.]



Dragon Fire

Some choices are hard to live with.But some choices will kill you.
When seventeen-year-old Anna first meets Rakan in her hometown north of the Arctic Circle, she is attracted to the pulsing energy that surrounds him. Unaware that he is a shapeshifting dragon, Anna is drawn into a murderous cycle of revenge that pits Rakan and his clan against her best friend June.
Torn between his forbidden relationship with Anna, that could cost them both their lives, and restoring his family’s honor by killing June, Rakan must decide what is right. And what is worth living – or dying – for.










Born in the US, Dina has lived on 4 continents, worked as a graphic artist for television and as a consultant in the fashion industry. Somewhere between New York and Paris she picked up an MBA and a black belt – and still thinks the two are connected. Dina is currently the Regional Advisor for SCBWI Belgium, where she lives with her husband, two children, three horses and a cat.

Dina loves to create intricate worlds filled with conflict and passion. She builds her own myths while exploring issues of belonging, racism and the search for truth... after all, how can you find true love if you don’t know who you are and what you believe in? Dina’s key to developing characters is to figure out what they would be willing to die for. And then pushing them to that limit.


Excerpt (Chapter One):

In the Arctic winter, the sun never rises. In the Arctic summer, the sun never sets. In the Arctic, the world is at your feet.
 
 Chapter 1 The Circle Tightens
 The candle flickered in the subzero wind but Anna made no move to protect it. She stopped on the hill in front of Tromso’s three-year high school and watched the water of the fjord shimmer below. Even though it was mid-afternoon there was no sun, just the luminous reflection of the moon. The procession of students continued on without her, leaving only the fading sound of crunching snow in their wake.

“You seem as eager to go to Fritjof’s memorial vigil as I am,” June said, startling Anna with her sudden appearance.
Anna fingered the oval piece of bright orange coral that she had carried around like a talisman since she was a child. She usually kept it in her pocket, but today she wanted to feel its soothing energy closer and had it in her glove. She had never liked Fritjof, and even though she wasn’t glad he had died, she wouldn’t miss him.
She turned to face June whose cobalt blue eyes were at odds with her otherwise Asian features. June and her boyfriend had also been out on the mountain when the avalanche claimed Fritjof. “I’m glad it’s not yours too,” Anna said. “I’d really miss you.”
“It would take more than an avalanche to kill me,” June said, trying to smile. But Anna could feel her friend’s pain lurking under the surface.
“Hey.” She wrapped an arm around June to comfort her. But as soon as her hand touched June’s shoulder, a burst of energy exploded from her stone. Anna ripped off her glove and the piece of coral went flying. “What the—”
June spun around, pushing Anna behind her as if to protect her from an attack. She scanned the area, her body tensed for a fight.
“Who are you looking for?” Anna pressed her palm to dull the pain as she glanced around the deserted hilltop. “Whatever it was, it came from my stone.”
June relaxed her stance. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” Anna gestured towards the coral-colored sparks that crackled in the darkness of the Norwegian winter. “What do you think it’s doing?”
“Don’t know.” June crouched down to get a better look. Her hand hovered as a bright green light flashed around the stone.
“Don’t touch it,” Anna said sharply. Her stone had always had a special energy, but never coral-colored sparks. Or green flashes of light.
“It’s okay now.” June pulled her hand back. “Look for yourself.”
Anna knelt next to June. The stone was dark and lifeless and she felt a sudden pang of loss. She prodded it gingerly with her good hand, but felt nothing. She picked it up. It was just a pretty bit of coral. The gentle pulsing energy that she had liked so much was gone.
“Can I see it?” June asked.
Anna nodded, her throat constricted. The stone had always reminded her of her father. Its energy was something he would have been able to feel too. The only other person she had met so far who was open to that kind of thing was June. Everyone else got freaked out, or thought she was crazy. So she had learned not to talk about it.
June closed her fist around the stone. “Where did you get this?” Her voice wavered.
Anna’s attention flicked back to June. She never wavered. “I found it in the mountains. Years ago. Why? What is it?”
“A trigger.”
“A trigger for what?”
June returned Anna’s searching look. “I have no idea.” She handed the stone back.
“So how do you know it’s a trigger?”
“I just feel it.” June picked up the candles that lay forgotten in the snow. “If you’re okay, we should go.”
Anna picked up her discarded glove and froze. In the middle of her left palm was a star-shaped scar. She stretched her hand to get a better look. It was about the size of a dime. She touched it. Like an echo under the fading pain, she could feel the energy of her stone pulsing faintly in her palm.
“Here,” June said, offering Anna a candle. She stopped mid-motion. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. The stone…” She held out her palm. “Look.”
June dropped the candles and took Anna’s hand in hers. Gently, she ran her fingers over the slightly raised ridges of the scar. “A Firemark,” June said as if talking to herself. “But how…?”
“What’s a Firemark?” Anna examined the scar. It was almost silvery in the moonlight.
June looked up, her fingers still on Anna’s palm. “It’s like a living connection between two people. But… there was only the stone.”
“It always felt alive,” Anna said. She touched the Firemark one last time before putting her glove back on. It was warm and smooth.
June shook her head. “But even if it felt alive, it shouldn’t have left a Firemark.”
Anna shrugged. “Maybe. But I like it.” Anna closed her hand around the Firemark. It felt like she was holding her stone. She smiled. She’d never lose it now.
June re-lit the candles again and handed one to Anna. “Ready?”
Anna hooked her arm through June’s. “I think so.” They walked silently through town and across the bridge that straddled the green-black fjord.
“Do you think it’s over?” Anna eyed the Arctic Cathedral that sprawled like slabs of a fallen glacier on the other side of the fjord. It was lit up like a temple of light.
June shook her head. “It’s only just begun.”
            “That’s enough.” Khotan’s voice snapped like a whip across the barren land of Ngari in western Tibet. “You’re not going to kill her. I will.”
The wind howled in agreement. Rakan bit back the urge to argue with his father whose shaved head and barrel chest marked him as an Old Dragon. But Khotan’s massive physique belied his diminishing power, and Rakan knew that his father wouldn’t survive a fight with the female dragon they had finally located. He had felt her power when she had set off his trigger just a few hours before. And she was more powerful than any other dragon he had ever met. Rakan clenched his fists. Blood for blood. It was the Dragon Code. And he would be the one to honor it.
“You need to start a new life here,” Khotan said, his hand like a claw of ice on Rakan’s bare shoulder. “I will end the old.”
His tone of voice, more than his touch, sent shivers down Rakan’s spine. But before he could question his father, a flicker of red caught his attention and his older half-sister, Dvara, materialized on the sparring field. Except she wasn’t dressed to fight. She was wearing a shimmering red gown that matched the color of her eyes and her black hair was arranged in an intricate mass of twisted strands.
“It’s too late to teach Rakan anything.” She made an unhurried motion towards the targets at the other end of the field. One by one, they exploded with her passing hand.
“We weren’t practicing,” Rakan said calmly. “Although if we had been, you’d need to start again. You used a trigger. You didn’t manipulate their structure on a molecular level.”
“Who cares?” Her Maii-a, the pear-shaped stone that every dragon wore to practice manipulating matter with, sparkled like an angry flame at her throat. “They’ve been demolished. And that’s all that counts in a fight.”
Rakan slid his long black braid over his shoulder. “How you fight is just as important as how you win.”
“I’d rather stay alive,” Dvara said. “But you can die honorably if you want.”
“Neither one of you will fight anyone,” Khotan said. “Remember that.”
Rakan bowed his head. There was no point arguing about it now. But Dvara lifted her chin defiantly. “Kraal was my father. I will avenge his death.”
Khotan growled and stepped towards Dvara, dwarfing her with his size. He held her gaze until she dropped her eyes. Rakan shook his head, wondering why Dvara always tried to challenge Khotan’s authority in an open confrontation that she was sure to lose. Khotan was the guardian of her rök, her dragon heart and the seat of her power, and she had no choice but to abide by his will.
Their mother, Yarlung, appeared without warning. “I will speak with Rakan’dzor.” She crossed her arms over her white gown that sparkled with flashes of turquoise. “Alone.”
She waited, immobile, until Khotan and Dvara bowed and dematerialized, shifting elsewhere. As soon as they were gone, her face relaxed and she turned to Rakan, her nearly blind eyes not quite finding his. “I always knew you would be the one to find her,” she purred. “You have the strength and the will of my bloodline. And the time has come for you to use it.” Yarlung tilted her face to the wind. “Kraal gifted me his poison before he died. Neutralized, of course.”
“But no one can neutralize dragon poison.”
“Kairök Kraal was a great Master. His death is a loss for us all.”
Rakan struck his chest with his fist. “Paaliaq will pay for his death with her own.”
“Yes. She will. And you will help me.” A faint smile played on her usually austere face. “I will mark you with his poison so that we can communicate when necessary.”
“Khotan and Dvara have a full link, isn’t that enough?”
“You don’t expect me to rely on secondhand information, do you?” snapped Yarlung. She paused and spoke more gently. “Or are you scared to carry Kraal’s poison?”
Rakan knelt down in front of Yarlung. “I will do whatever it takes to kill Paaliaq.” His voice cut through the arid cold of the Tibetan plateau.
Yarlung’s eyes flashed momentarily turquoise and Rakan stepped back as she morphed into her dragon form. She was a long, undulating water dragon and the scales around her head and down her throat glistened like wet opals. Without warning, a bluish-white fire crackled around him like an electric storm. His mother’s turquoise claws sank into his arms and pain sizzled through his flesh. The fire disappeared and Rakan collapsed to the ground, grinding his teeth to keep from screaming in agony.
He would not dishonor his family.
“No, you won’t,” Yarlung said in his mind.
Rakan’s head jerked up in surprise.
“You have just become my most precious tool.” Her voice hummed with pleasure. “You will not fail me.”
As suddenly as the contact had come, it was gone. And so was his mother. Rakan didn’t like it. Not her disappearance. That was normal. Yarlung had always been abrupt. But he didn’t like hearing her in his mind. It was something only dragons who were joined under a Kairök, a Master Dragon, could do. Few dragons were able to survive the rush of power that happened when their röks awakened without the help of a Kairök. But Rakan had.
He gritted his teeth and stood up. If sharing a mind-link with Yarlung was necessary to kill Paaliaq, then he would learn to accept it.
He held his arms out to examine the dragons that had appeared where his mother’s claws had dug into his biceps. They were long, sinuous water dragons like Yarlung. But they were black, the color of purity, the color of Kraal. Rakan watched the miniature turquoise-eyed dragons dance on his arms until they penetrated under his skin. He felt a cold metallic shiver deep inside as they faded from view.
A rush of pride exploded in Rakan and he raised his arms to the frozen winter sky, the pain like a blood pact marking his words. “I will avenge your death, Kairök Kraal. The Earth will become our new home and your Cairn will once again prosper.”
            “You can drop me here.” Anna glared at her mother’s boyfriend who reminded her of his namesake: a wolf.

Ulf turned the car into Siri’s driveway and flashed his all too perfect smile. “Not unless you want me to carry you in. Your shoes aren’t practical for walking in the snow.”
Anna snorted. “You’re one to talk. You’re the one driving a sports car in the winter.” And she didn’t feel like having her teammates from the handball team see it.
Ulf threw his head back and laughed. “I only take it out for special occasions. Like New Year’s.” He leaned towards her.  “Especially when I have the honor of accompanying a lovely lady.”
“You’re not accompanying me. You’re dropping me off.”
“Precisely.” He pulled up in front of the house that pulsed with music, revving his engine one last time. He jumped out of the car and got to her side just as she was opening her door. He offered her his arm. “And since I’m a gentleman, I’ll accompany you to the door.”
Anna ignored Ulf and struggled to get up while the dress she had decided to wear did its best to slide all the way up her thighs. Ulf moved to steady her as she wobbled in the high heels she wasn’t used to wearing but she pushed him away. Her shoes slipped on the icy snow and she grabbed the railing, wondering why she had decided to wear them.
“It would be easier if you’d accept my help.”
“I don’t need your help,” she said, walking up the stairs. When he followed anyway, she turned to face him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“As a matter of fact… no,” said Ulf. He straightened his white silk scarf that didn’t need straightening. “Ingrid won’t be off work until eleven.”
The evening was cold and Anna regretted wearing a dress. “You’re not coming in.”
“We can stand out here, if that’s what you prefer,” said Ulf, looking up at the sky.
Randi opened the door. “Anna! Finally,” she squealed. She threw herself at Anna. “I didn’t know you were bringing someone.”
“I’m not,” Anna said. “He’s leaving. Now.”
Randi glanced at Ulf who was leaning elegantly against the railing in what could have passed for a golden boy fashion shot. “Is that your boyfriend?” Randi asked hanging onto Anna. She looked Ulf up and down. “Is that why you didn’t come earlier?”
“Let’s go in,” Anna said, trying to get Randi back in the house.
Ulf slid an arm around Randi’s waist. “Perhaps I can help.”
“Oh sure,” Randi said. She giggled as she leaned into Ulf. “You have a nice… car.”
“Leave her alone.” Anna pried Ulf’s wandering hands away from Randi who was happily wrapping her arms around Ulf’s neck. “Randi, knock it off.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Randi pushed away from Ulf. “He’s yours. I forgot.”
“I’ll take her,” said Siri, steadying Randi. “That way you guys can come in and take your coats off.”
“Ulf has a date,” Anna said. She blocked the door after Siri and Randi disappeared inside. “With my mom. Or have you forgotten?”
“Sweet little Anna.” Ulf reached out to touch her cheek with his leather gloved hand.
Anna slapped it away. “Get away from me.”
“You’re so adorable when you’re angry,” he said with a laugh. “Call me when you want me to come for you.”
Anna resisted the impulse to slam the door and closed it calmly instead. The living room was packed with people dancing. She rubbed her forehead and walked over to the dining room table that was laden with food and drinks instead. She’d never understand her mom’s taste in men.
Siri came and nudged her shoulder. “Where’s the guy you came with?””
“Gone,” she answered, rolling her eyes. “Finally.”
“He didn’t look your type,” Siri said with a shrug. “But you never know.”
“He’s not. He’s my mom’s boyfriend. And he’s a jerk.”
Siri’s hand hovered over the massacred chocolate cake. “That’s a mess.”
“Tell me about it.” Ulf was by far the worst of her mom’s recent boyfriends. He was a liar and a manipulator. But her mom never saw beyond a pretty face.
Siri dropped her voice. “Have you seen June? Is she coming?”
“No. She went away with her boyfriend and his family for the vacation. Why?” Anna noticed Siri’s look of relief. “Why?” she asked sharply.
“I was worried that maybe she didn’t feel welcome. And I felt guilty. I mean… I’m really sorry about Fritjof.” Siri paused. “But I’m starting to wonder why I thought some of his ideas were good. I know you never liked him. But… I thought he was right. About June being different and the need to keep our race pure and all that.” Siri looked away. “I’m embarrassed I let myself believe any of it.”
“He was persuasive, I guess.” Anna tried not to rub it in, but she was happy that at least one friend was coming back around.
“Maybe. But I really am sorry.”
“Tell June after the break.” Anna put her glass up to Siri’s. “She’ll understand.”
“Why are you girls being so serious?” boomed Anna’s cousin, Red. He put an arm around each of them. “There’s music. You should be dancing. Or aren’t there any nice guys?”
“Anna never thinks there are any nice guys. But I see a few.” Siri raised her glass and headed across the room that had started to get crowded now that a slow song was playing.
“What are you doing here?” Anna playfully punched her cousin who was built like a rugby player. “You graduated last year. You’re not part of the team anymore.”
“We told the guys that we’d be back,” said Red, nodding to where his best friend, Haakon, was surrounded by half the boys’ team. “But we can’t stay – we promised the girls we’d go to a dinner party. And they’ll kill us if we’re late.” Red and Haakon had dominated the court with their size and skill for the past three years, but neither of their girlfriends played.
“I’m surprised they even let you out of their sight.” Anna waved a finger at her cousin who had the same ultra blond hair and pale blue eyes as she did. “I’ve hardly seen you at all this vacation.”
“I know. We’ve been busy. But I’m here now.” The music picked up again. “Dance?” He took her hand and then dropped it as if he had been stung. He grabbed her wrist and turned her palm up, revealing the star-shaped Firemark. “Who did this?” he growled, his face turning the telltale shade of red that had earned him his nickname.
Anna pulled her hand out of his and closed her fist. “No one.”
“A mark like that can’t just appear.”
“Why do you care what did it?”
“What do you mean what did it?” Red gripped her shoulders. “You were the one…?” Red’s voice trailed off, but his eyes bore into hers as if he was trying to peer into her mind.
Anna pulled back, breaking the contact. “What are you talking about?” She hadn’t said anything about what had happened on the hill and June had left town right after the vigil.
Red laughed, but Anna could still feel his anger like a tightly coiled snake. “Nothing,” he said. “Let’s dance.”
            Dvara paced around the massive table that filled the stone hall of Khotan’s lair. “Why are we waiting? Paaliaq has had more than enough time to hide again.”

“That is for Kairök Yarlung to decide,” Khotan said, using Yarlung’s official title as the head of their Cairn. As Kraal’s mate, she had taken over after his death.
“She’s too busy with her political games to think about it.” Dvara snorted. “She’s never had time for us anyhow.”
Rakan looked up from the intricate wire sculpture he was making. “Maybe she just wants to make sure you won’t throw yourself at Paaliaq in a hotheaded rage.”
“I’m no fool.” Dvara leaned over the table towards her half-brother. “I won’t attack until I’m certain to win. But I will attack. Unlike some I know.”
Rakan stood, towering over her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Sit,” Khotan said from his high-backed burgundy chair at the head of the table. “Both of you.” He waited until they complied. “The only reason you’re going instead of one of us is because Paaliaq won’t recognize you. Unfortunately, neither one of you is experienced enough to trap Paaliaq on your own.” Khotan looked from one to the other. “You’ll have to work together. Remember that.”
“But why did she set off one of Rakan’s old triggers?” Dvara hit the table with her fist. “It makes no sense. Even a newborn whelp would have felt what it was before touching it.”
Khotan created a burgundy colored fireball that floated in front of him. “Either she isn’t Paaliaq, or she’s luring you into a trap.” The stone walls reflected the warm glow of the fireball. “This isn’t a game. And I wish we didn’t have to send you.” Khotan’s face went blank for a split second as it always did when he spoke mentally with another dragon. “Yarlung bids us come to Lhang-tso,” he said, standing up. “Now.” Khotan disappeared without a sound, the fireball still suspended in midair.
Dvara followed in her stepfather’s trail, leaving Rakan to arrive last on the silver shores of the intensely blue lake that was Kairök Yarlung’s home. They faced the lake in their dragon forms. Khotan, an air dragon, rose on his burgundy hind legs and bellowed their arrival.
The blue-white coils of Yarlung’s water dragon form undulated majestically in the center of the crescent shaped lake. Rakan had always felt a sense of awe in front of his mother’s abode. Something about its starkness, the pungent salty flavor of the wind that rolled off the lake, the beauty of the contrasting red hills that surrounded it in the thin air of its 4,500 meter high perch had always made him feel like he was in the presence of something profound. He smiled and rocked back onto his own hind legs, stretched his majestic coral wings and added his greetings to his father’s. Neither animal nor plant life ventured near the lake. They were refreshingly alone. And free.
Dvara, a compact fire dragon with only the shortest of wings, dug her claws into the ground. She raised her jewel-like vermillion head and joined her voice to the others’.
Yarlung approached the edge of the lake and morphed into her human form. She signaled for them to do the same. Flashes of turquoise glinted off her metallic white dress. Rakan knelt next to his father and Dvara, his right fist on the center of his chest where his rök pounded in excitement.
“Rise. It is time,” Yarlung said, her voice snapping like thunder. “If the dragon who set off Rakan’s trigger is Paaliaq, I will savor her death.” Yarlung paused and then spoke again, more quietly. “If not, I will bind her to me by taking her rök whether she wills it or not. But I believe she is Paaliaq. Too many things confirm it. Including the presence of a male dragon who can only be her mate, Haakaramanoth.”
The wind howled across the lake.
“From what our scouts have been able to gather these past three weeks,” Khotan said, “she has created the illusion of being an untrained whelp and goes by the name Jing Mei. But don’t be fooled by her innocent appearance.”
Yarlung’s nostrils flared. “If she even begins to suspect who you are, she’ll kill you. Pretend you’re untrained. Take your time and get close to her. But not too close. Only one member of her Cairn is left and she will want to possess you both. Starting with Rakan’dzor. She has always preferred males.”
“But the Code forbids blood relatives to have the same Kairök,” Rakan said.
Yarlung snorted. “Paaliaq has no honor. Never forget that.” She turned to Khotan. “Give Dvara back her rök. Paaliaq will be suspicious if she doesn’t have it.”
“But the risk…” stammered Khotan.
“Is of no consequence. Do it. Now. And then bind her to you as Kraal taught you.”
“No,” said Khotan. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Have you become so frail that you can no longer master even that?”
Khotan bowed his head. “May your will be done,” he said, saying the traditional formula of submission to a Kairök. But Rakan could feel his father’s anger.
Dvara tilted her chin and gave Rakan a look of triumph. She had wanted her rök back ever since Yarlung had declared that he would keep his and remain independent. But learning to control his rök had been harder than he had let on. Starting with when he had morphed for the first time not knowing which of the three dragon forms he would take. But even after he knew he was an air dragon, his rök’s wild power had nearly overwhelmed him. It wasn’t until Khotan had taught him to control his emotions that he could morph without fear of involuntarily killing himself or his family.
Khotan walked over to Dvara, his fluid black pants snapping in the wind. They stood still, facing each other as equals even though Khotan loomed over Dvara’s delicate figure. Khotan began a low chant in Draagsil, the ancient language of the dragon race. He lifted his arms to the sky, his bare chest glistening like armor. Energy crackled and began to circle him. It spun faster and faster until Khotan was nothing more than a shimmering mirage in front of Dvara. A faint drum-like beat began, steadily increasing in tempo as it grew louder. Suddenly, the wind died and the beating stopped. A mass of pure vermillion energy licked Khotan’s hands like the flames of a fire. The energy condensed in a flash of vermillion light, leaving a bright red stone in Khotan’s palm. Dvara’s dragon heart.
Khotan held the egg-shaped rök to the sky before releasing it to hover above Dvara’s head. It glittered like a crown jewel. “My will has been done. You are now your own master. May your will be one with your rök.”
A red flame moved up Dvara’s gown, circling her body until it reached her rök. The rök ignited in a ball of wild energy. It spun around her in an uncontrolled frenzy. It was going to kill her. Rakan sprang forward, desperate to catch Dvara’s rök before it was too late, but Khotan stopped him. “No. Their reunion can’t be interfered with. It must run its course. For better or for worse.”
The rök lurched. Rakan stood ready to intervene if things got worse. Whether he was supposed to or not, he wouldn’t stand by and watch her die. A brilliant flash of intense vermillion encompassed Dvara, knocking her to the ground.
Yarlung snorted in contempt. “Tend to her.”
Khotan knelt next to Dvara and touched a hand to her forehead, healing her with his energy. She latched onto Khotan, her red eyes echoing the wildness of her rök.
“Come,” Khotan said, helping her to stand. “Do you accept of your own free will that I mark you with Kraal’s neutralized poison and bind you to me in a partial link?”
“I do.”
“And do you understand the consequences of this act?”
Yarlung growled her impatience, but Dvara didn’t take her eyes from Khotan’s.
“I do,” Dvara said solemnly.
“What consequences?” thought Rakan, glancing at his mother. But she ignored him.
Khotan morphed and sank his claws into Dvara’s bare arms. Rakan watched, horrified, as Dvara writhed by the edge of the lake in a mixture of rapture and agony. A black winged air dragon with burgundy eyes danced on each arm before fading under her skin.
“Go now,” Yarlung said, her words lingering for just a moment after she disappeared.
“Rakan…”
“Yes, Father?”
“If you need to contact us, send a message through Dvara.”
Rakan nodded, confused. Didn’t his father know that Yarlung had marked him too?
Khotan disappeared. It was time.
Guest Post - World BuildingI have always loved world building - and, as most kids do, I did it constantly, whether playing with my friends in the trees or building homes for my stuffed animals. What we were all doing, without thinking about it, was creating a setting for our story. No story can happen without characters, and no character can come to life in a void. They need a setting. The setting is the structure in which the characters will evolve and the story will unfold. It shapes how the characters view the world and how they react. Whether done consciously or unconsciously, the world we create as writers informs the story problem and its themes.

One of the exciting things about world building is that you can create your world starting from any point, be it the physical realm, the society, the character or the story problem. But no matter where you start, at some point you have to decide how your main character and his/her story problem fit into the larger world he/she lives in. It is this interplay between the character and his/her world that will help give a story the depth, and coherence, necessary to engage readers and create a vibrant world that will live on in their minds well beyond the end of the book.
Although it is easy to see details of world building when reading about Middle Earth or Starships, a contemporary novel set in a small town also has a distinct world that the author has created – either by constructing a fictional setting or by choosing which parts of a real setting to include or to omit.
A world is a complex system of interdependent threads ranging from the physical to the metaphysical and covering everything in between. Geography, population, government, history, ethics and religion are just a few examples. The clearer you are about the impact of each thread on your characters and story arc, the more depth your world will have and the more alive it will feel.
A river that floods, such as the Nile, can be seen as destructive or life-giving or both – but it can’t be ignored. No matter how it is perceived, the river’s cycle will affect how the civilization that it nourishes develops. Climate and local resources influence everything from clothing to fighting techniques to societal structure and religious beliefs.
Just as in our world, the way fictional characters perceive the world around them is shaped by the culture they grew up in, their past experiences and their own ideas of right and wrong. This in turn will affect how each character can evolve over the course of the story.
For example, in The Game of Thrones, Dany wouldn’t be who she is, or where she is, without the past events that pushed her and her brother into exile. Of course, what she chose to do afterwards was based on her own experiences and understanding of the world around her and the potential she had within herself.
All worlds, even ones with magic, have limitations – and limitations are often a great starting point for introducing problems and increasing tension. And tension, especially when it is innate to your world’s structure and your character’s personal view of the world, is what makes a book something a reader can’t put down.
What are your thoughts on world building? What do you usually create first, the world, the characters, the story problem? I’d love to hear from you!



WebsiteFB pageTwilight Times YA& NA Books on FBTwitterGoodreadsPinterestAmazon

Hot New Release from Twilight Times Books - Mythos - by Heather McLaren

[The Mad Muncle is very pleased to offer his forge as the fiery setting to present this hot new release from Twilight Times Books-- Mythos, a debut YA fantasy by Heather McLaren.]


MYTHOS

True love was the last thing David Cooley expected to find in the Bahamas, But the moment he laid eyes on Faren Sands, he knew he had found the girl of his dreams. How could he know she was a mermaid from the lost island of Atlantis?Because of the strict laws regarding human contact, the couple flees the consequences of their forbidden passion, struggling to survive a conflict that has been brewing between the mermaids and sea demons for the last eleven thousand years.
Once the epic battle begins, fate forces David to make a decision that will forever affect his young life. Should he stick by the woman he loves, risking his mortality for a civilization that hates him?

Heather McLaren is a Cherokee writer living in southern Illinois with her husband and four children. Mythos, the first of five books in the Mer Chronicles, is her debut novel. She is currently working on the second book in the series, Beyond Legend, and plans on bringing fantasy into the lives of young adults for years to come.




Excerpt:
Faren reared back and kicked Mineane with everything she had. The demon’s eyes popped open, and she flew off her feet, crashing headlong into the television screen. There was a loud crunch, and Mineane grew still. Her body turned to dust, leaving her tentacles behind as the only evidence she was ever there. Suri looked up but she didn’t seem to care about her dead partner. She continued to strangle David without blinking an eye. Faren ran up and ripped the knife from her back, but Suri knocked her to the floor before she could stab her again. The weapon flew from Faren’s hand and skidded across the tile out of reach. She crawled toward it, grunting and groaning. Suri grabbed her leg, and Faren fell flat on her face. “No!” Faren screamed. So close, so close.She reached for the knife again; her hand grazed the handle, knocking it even farther away. As a last minute decision, Faren attacked Suri, pounding her in the head with her tiny fists. The monster let go of David’s throat and grabbed Faren’s hair again, yanking her to the floor. “Let me go!” Faren cried, latching onto the demon’s wrists. She tried to twist her way free, but Suri’s strength outweighed hers by ten. “No, stop!”David punched Suri in the back of the head once, twice. She fell to her side, but kept a good grip on Faren’s hair. David managed to crawl out from underneath her, and he punched her in the head again. As soon as Suri released Faren, the couple took off for the stairway leading to the bedrooms. They didn’t get far. A pair of the most enraged eyes they had ever seen met them halfway. “You’re not going anywhere,” Suri croaked. Faren couldn’t think straight. The hefty demon blocking their path no longer existed. All she could see was the stairway, their only lifeline to the outside world, across the room. But it seemed a million light years away.“You’re trapped,” Suri said, shoving a chair out of the way. “Come on!” David rushed Faren to the glass patio door, slid it open, and pushed her out onto the balcony. “We have to jump!”


AmazonBarnes and NobleOmniLitAll Romance eBooksAuthor WebsiteTwilight Times Books