R.M. Ridley's Blog, page 39

Appearently, Santa Though I Was A Good Boy!

I made out like a bandit over the last two days.

I actually got a some writing done – working on the fourth novel ‘Corrupted Souls’ and yesterday as we drove to Hamilton, Ontario – I wrote a third of a short story. I haven’t hand written a story since… well, since I learned cursive. Have I ever mentioned how illegible my writing is? Even I can’t read it most of the time. Still, it was fun to put pen to paper. I think it will turn out to be a fun little story.

I got a lovely number of books from fiction, to fact, and even two wonderful books on the craft of writing itself.

Got Doctor Who episodes …like all of them. So now I can get as caught up as possible and go back and watch all the ones I never got a chance to – oh, the pleasant nights I have ahead of me. Last night in fact, my wife and I stayed up – well, we watched five episodes at least and didn’t get in until ten at night so…

Today is the day to try and find a routine again. I will fail miserably but eventually order shall take over. I should do some writing, edit the short story I wrote a number of weeks ago — I should at least transcribe the hand written part of the new short story onto my computer.

Or I could just play on-line solitaire.

 

Filed under: MIscellaneous, Writing Tagged: Corrupted Souls, current work in progress, Doctor Who, edits, Fiction, Jonathan Alvey, paranormal private investigator, short story, Urban Fantasy, writing

A Novel by any Other Name…

I think I may have stated this before but here it is anyway – I suck at titles. I can write the stories – sometimes effortlessly – but the words above ‘by R. M. Ridley’ often cause my head to hurt.

The exception to this has been my novels. I get the titles for them almost right off the bat and they work, and fit for the story told. It is nice to refer to something you spend months on by its title – which is why it has been so annoying that this fourth ‘Jonathan Alvey’ novel has been -’ the fourth novel’ for far too long.

I dabbled with the idea of something like ‘Swarms and Shadows’ but it sounded corny to me. It just didn’t fit, like a show that pinched the toes but flopped off the heel. So I knew it wasn’t right.

I wrote on, hoping for my Muse to come through on this. Last night – late, as I couldn’t sleep – I think she did.

I strongly believe the fourth novel, my current work in progress will be titled, ‘Corrupted Souls’.

Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

It fits too. It covers many aspects of what is contained in this novel. It gives you a right up front association to the main plot, extends into the secondary plot nicely, and even covers a bit of self revelation that occurs for my protagonist.

Best of all – I can now stop referring to my WIP as ‘the fourth novel’ and say ‘Corrupted Souls’ instead. Must more satisfying.

Filed under: Writing Tagged: Corrupted Souls, current work in progress, fourth novel, Jonathan Alvey, muse, novel, paranormal private investigator, plot, short story, Urban Fantasy, WIP, writing

The Devil, the Tower, and the Star: Tarot Blog Hop

Reblogged from Shauna Aura Knight:

I'm going through a Dark Night of the Soul. It's seasonally appropriate during the dark time of the year, though I find I'm facing the darkness of winter again while  going through a "Tower" moment. If you're not conversant in Tarot-reader lingo, the "Tower" is generally shorthand for, "life-altering disaster." The Tower is one of the cards in the Major Arcana.

Read more… 2,375 more words

Because my Jonathan Alvey novels often have Tarot reading in them, I thought I'd take a look at this post. I found something that spoke to the other side of my life that I post about - my mental health cycles. My dark times that come down on me.
This isn't about mental health directly but in a way it is dealing with it.
it is a bit long, but an intimate post of strength and perseverance that maybe some of you need read, so I thought I'd share it.

A Free Short Story Released By My Publisher

I love being able to say that – ‘my publisher’. Such fun!

So, now you all know that I am signed with Xchyler Publishing. The first novel, ‘Tomorrow Wendell’ will be released in 2014  (I’ll let you know when we have that narrowed down a bit).  If everything goes well, it will be just the first Jonathan Alvey novel released through them. Myself and the publishing house are both looking forward to a long fruitful relationship through this character and his stories

Yesterday, after I was finally able to go public with the information, Xchyler celebrated the announcement by posting a new short story of mine featuring Jonathan Alvey.

Why don’t you do me a favour and go on over and give ‘Sanguinaria‘ a read. I would love to know your thoughts on it.

 

 

Filed under: Writing Tagged: 2014, blog post, free short story, Jonathan Alvey, muse, novel, paranormal, paranormal private investigator, publisher, release date, Sanguinaria, short story, Tomorrow Wendell, Urban Fantasy, Xchyler Publishing

The Best Christmas Present Ever!

I teased about this earlier in the month… that I had something big to announce.

I got the got the official word a couple of weeks ago now but I wanted to wait for the paper work before I went public with the fantastic news.

And here it is!

It is a contract between myself and the publishing company HamiltonSprings Press for my novel ‘Tomorrow Wendell’

It is my debut novel and will be published through their imprint Xchyler Publishing – the same imprint who published my short story ‘The Cost of Custody’ in Shades and Shadows: A Paranormal Anthology.

There is a further connection -  ‘The Cost of Custody’ was the first of my Jonathan Alvey, paranormal P. I. short stories to be published and ‘Tomorrow Wendel’ is my first full length novel featuring the same protagonist.

This means if you liked that short story – you’ll love this upcoming novel.

I am delighted, not only to have my novel accepted by Xchyler, but at the thought of working once more with those good people. It is with great excitement that I am looking forward to this project, and many more, with this dedicated group.

Filed under: Writing Tagged: anthology, contract, debut novel, Hamilton Springs Press, Jonathan Alvey, novel, paranormal private investigator, publish, Shades and Shadows: A Paranormal Anthology, short story, The Cost of Custody, Tomorrow Wendell, Urban Fantasy, world building, writer, writing, Xchyler Publishing

Some Interesting Facts

A quick read summary article about e-cigs.

Are E-cigs bad for you?

Filed under: MIscellaneous Tagged: e-cigarettes, health, nicotine, vaping

Bitching Again

Seems I only post about my mental health when it’s acting up.

Well, I suppose it’s not really on my mind when it is behaving.

Yesterday, I went out and drove to the town where we get feed for the fowl and sheep. I was fine going and while there but by the time I was returning, my brain made it quite clear I had done more than enough for one day.

It’s reaction to my outing – the loss of focus and the flaring of frustration – was enough to cause me to not be able to write. This was significant because I had really been looking forward to writing, as I had just introduced a character to the fourth novel that I have been waiting to add to the world since the first novel.

I did, however, manged to get edits done, so I didn’t feel that bad about the day but I was all too aware that my brain had affected the outcome of how I spent my day.

Today, I woke and immediately knew it was going to be a bad one. Waking essentially angry at nothing, and everything,  is usually a good indicator of a malfunction in the hardware.

I did get writing done this morning, but the focus needed to do so was tiring. Then, frustrating me immensely, I couldn’t get on-line and do all the social network stuff I usually do after my morning writing session.

I pushed myself to edit instead. I did manage to work through a few pages and then stopped. My head would take no more – I had pushed it as far as it would go for the morning.

Luckily, by that time, the internet was feeling co-operative again.

Hate days like this, especially when they come this close to the holiday season – I count on my cycle to be, if not done, at least very low so that I can participate in the expected festivities.

I won’t panic but I do hope this fades back by the 24th.

Filed under: Mental Health, Writing Tagged: Bi-polar, blog for mental health, Brain, characters, crazy, current work in progress, cycle, edits, frustration, Holidays, live stock, Mental Health, novel, paranormal private investigator, sheep, world building, writing

Bollypunk? Steambolly?

Well, no matter how it should be labeled, you should check out this new steampunk novel being released today.

Third Daughter

by Susan Kaye Quinn

The first book in The Dharian Affairs Trilogy (Third Daughter, Second Daughter, First Daughter). This steampunk-goes-to-Bollywood (Bollypunk!) romance takes place in an east-indian-flavored alternate world filled with skyships, saber duels, and lots of royal intrigue. And, of course, kissing.

AND… it’s not just a book release ( like a new book isn’t exciting enough) but there are a number of great prizes to be won too with a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Third Daughter of the Queen wants her birthday to arrive so she’ll be free to marry for love, but rumors of a new flying weapon may force her to accept a barbarian prince’s proposal for a peace-brokering marriage. Desperate to marry the charming courtesan she loves, Aniri agrees to the prince’s proposal as a subterfuge in order to spy on him, find the weapon, and hopefully avoid both war and an arranged marriage to a man she does not love.

Look at that amazing Cover!! – The inside is just as beautiful too.

Okay – stop looking at the cover on my blog. Go get your very own copy at any of these places:

Amazon: http://bit.ly/SKQonAmazon

Barnes&noble: http://bit.ly/SusanonBnN

iTunes: http://bit.ly/SKQoniBookstore

kobo: http://bit.ly/SusanonKobo
Want to know a bit more? – Just below the Author Bio is an excerpt from Chapter one. What more could you want?

Susan Kaye Quinn grew up in California, where she wrote snippets of stories and passed them to her friends during class. Her teachers pretended not to notice and only confiscated her stories a couple times.

Susan left writing behind to pursue a bunch of engineering degrees, but she was drawn back to writing by an irresistible urge to share her stories with her niece, her kids, and all the wonderful friends she’s met along the way.

She doesn’t have to sneak her notes anymore, which is too bad.

Susan writes from the Chicago suburbs with her three boys, two cats, and one husband. Which, it turns out, is exactly as a much as she can handle.

Author Links:
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

Chapter One, Third Daughter (The Dharian Affairs #1)

The cloudless night whispered sweet promises to Aniri.

Below her stone rooftop, the shadows of the forested grounds danced in the summer’s breeze, their small rustlings calling to her like a lover. The sound was the perfect cover for escape into the darkness and the warm arms she hoped to find there. No one should notice her absence. Of all the guards, handmaidens, and many silent keepers of the royal household, none would venture up to her private observatory this late in the eve. But she still had to be careful. Even this close to her birthday, the Queen would not be forgiving if she was caught.

Aniri scanned the palace grounds to make sure it was clear of any witnesses. The manicured lawns were empty: the only sign of life came from the distant embassy windows where gas lamps flickered and soft music trilled from late-reveling partygoers. Aniri pressed the leather eyecup of her aetherscope to her face, slowly turning the brass knobs to bring the party into focus. The instrument was meant for watching the rise of the twin full moons, but it worked well enough for spying on the Samirian ambassador and her assemblage of guests.

Their shiny new automaton was thick-legged and awkward, but the Samirian tinker’s design was still clever: the steam-driven mechanical wonder actually danced, albeit just one clumsy pirouette after another. When it came to a graceless stop, the guests snapped their fingers in appreciation. The faint sound of their applause drifted over the lawn, but the party continued on. With the grounds still empty, Aniri swung her aetherscope to the forest. The broken edges of the river snaked through the darkened trees, slipped under a stone bridge, and then flowed past the red sandstone walls of the Queen’s estate. A black shape darted out from under the bridge, then disappeared into the shadows between the trees.

Time to go.

She peered over the edge of the balcony. No sense in being caught by someone who snuck out for a dalliance in the dark. With the way clear, she opened the leather satchel at her feet and uncoiled the sheet she had twisted into a rope. Always check your knots, Aniri. Her father’s voice accompanied her on every climb, but she had to wonder what he would have made of this particular one. She rechecked the knots. It would cause quite a stir if she plummeted to her death while climbing down the palace wall.

The massive stone lion that guarded the parapet served as an excellent anchor. She looped the rope around it, then stood on the edge of the wall and leaned out over the blackness. Loop the rope under and between your feet, Aniri. It will carry your weight. Practical advice, but knots would impede her progress, and speed was of the essence. She lowered herself, hand over hand, bracing her feet against the wall. A mossy spot, hidden by the dark and slick with dew, sent her silk slippers pawing rapid-fire several times before she found purchase between the giant stone blocks.

Always use the proper equipment. She took a deep breath. Her father would probably disapprove of her attire. Silk nightclothes were hardly climbing wear, and she couldn’t find any plausible excuse to wear her climbing shoes to bed. Her handmaiden, Priya, was far too clever for that—and already suspicious when Aniri wanted to retire to her observatory alone. At least she had her fingerless climbing gloves, and on every climb she wore the thin, braided bracelet her father gave her. For luck. She thought he would approve.

Hand over hand, Aniri continued her descent. Halfway down, a sudden clacking broke the quiet and rose above the scrapings of her slippers on the treacherous walls. She held still against the cool stone, hands gripped tight on her rope of sheets. A lone two-wheeled surrey ambled out of the shadows of the Samirian embassy and headed toward her dark corner of the Queen’s estate. Aniri held her breath and silently cursed the full two-moon night. If the carriage came much closer, the occupants would surely see her clinging to the side of the palace like a spider on her thread.

The six-hooved beast pulling the surrey slowed as it neared the giant stone statue of Devkasera. The mother goddess of ancient Dharia loomed larger-than-life, threatening the carriage with a sword and a scroll—the powers of destruction and creation—clasped in two of her six hands. The Queen loved the ancient traditions, so the goddess held a place of respect in the middle of the palace lawns. Aniri preferred the clean streets and steam-driven inventions of modern Dharia to the unwashed feet and mystic religion of her country’s past, but that didn’t stop her from sending a silent prayer to Devkasera—for invisibility for herself or perhaps a sudden loss of sight by the persons in the carriage.

The surrey paused at the statue, then veered right and headed for the far wall that enclosed the estate. Aniri repressed a laugh—perhaps she should pray to Devkasera to bring her birthday sooner as well. Her arms ached from holding her position, but she waited until the carriage had passed through the palace gate. Beyond it, the lights of Kartavya, Dharia’s capital city, winked through the coal-smoke haze as if giving her an all-clear signal.

Her muscles rejoiced when she moved again, working her way down the last half of the wall and dropping the final two feet. From there, she scampered over the surrounding manicured hedgerows as if she had fled the palace a hundred times before. Her unbound dark hair flapped behind her, and the cool night breeze fluttered her black silk nightclothes against her skin like a thousand butterfly wings. It was the feeling of freedom breathing against her, and she had to clamp her teeth against the giggle that threatened to ruin her escape.

She slowed and picked her way through the darkened brambles of the forest grabbing at her legs. The first time, she slipped away from dinner in her normal evening attire—a midnight-black corset latched with brass clasps, a starched skirt of blood-red silk, and a sweep of silk over her shoulder for the traditional touch the Queen required. Aniri thought the dark colors would ease her escape, but she had stuck to the needled branches like a royal pincushion. The second time, she cast aside the bodice and most of the silk, keeping only her short bloomers and camisole—essentially running through the forest in her unmentionables. That had been deliciously decadent, but also very chilly. This time, her nightclothes were proving the most suitable costume yet for midnight escapades.

She smiled and slipped through the forest like a phantom, black on black, silent and stealthy. The faint trace of coal smoke gave way to the fresh scent of leaves mixed with river mist. She breathed it deep: the lushness of it always captivated her. The Queen had imported trees and beasts from the barbarians in the north to recreate the Dharian forests long ago swept away by agriculture. Fortunately, her majesty favored the gentle animals sacred to the gods. Aniri was careful not to disturb a long-tailed bandir hanging from a branch, eyes closed and peaceful. She didn’t believe the superstitions about waking one, but she couldn’t afford the screech it would let loose.

Aniri broke out of the forest and onto the wet rocks bordering the river. The footbridge ahead was a silent sentinel over the constant chatter of the river. There was no sign of movement. Was she too late? But then Devesh stepped from the shadows, showing his face to the moons as if he had nothing to hide.

She skittered over the slippery rocks and flew into his arms.

“Aniri,” he said, but she was uninterested in wasting precious moments with words. She shut him up with her lips pressed fiercely to his. He closed his dark, humor-filled eyes, and wrapped his arms around her. Being a courtesan, he was well-trained in courtly conversation, but the artistry of his lips moving slow yet urgent against hers made her forget her own name.

Filed under: Writing Tagged: bollypunk, chapter excerpt, characters, cover art, duels, intrigue, novel, prizes, Rafflecopter, Steampunk, Susan Kaye Quinn, The Dharian Affairs, Third Daughter, writer

And to think I could have Lived in California

Well there is no denying it now–winter is here.

The snow fell, though thankfully not a lot yet, and it has stayed for a couple of days.

The temperature dropped, and stayed dropped, despite bright sunny days.

The worst season is here. The most unforgiving, long, brutal, cruel, awful season is here–Winter!

In case you didn’t pick up on it–I hate winter. I hate everything about it, from the snow, to the cold, to Christmas.

Yes. You read that right. Christmas

I don’t actually have anything against seeing family, or any religious connection to the event. I just hate the… well everything else. The bustle, the commercialism, the lights and decorations, the songs–oh gods the songs–and I could even live without the whole gift thing. Sure I get many nice things but I could do without getting them just as easy.

My father lived in California for a number of years (and some of his side still do). Sometimes I think fondly on the concept of living in California. Sure there are issues with it but oh, the warmth. The winter season lived without snow, and bitter winds, and bone biting cold, and snow, and the bad road conditions–did I mention the snow?

Well, even winter has to come to an end–but until those 15 months pass–I’ll be dreaming of Cali.

Filed under: MIscellaneous Tagged: Ba humbug, California, carols, Chirstmas, cold, decorations, father, snow, winter

Little Update

I just thought I would share with you all a few quick updates…

I have received some rather good news – the details of which I will expand on in another day’s post.

My cycle is at a peek – but it is both bearable and still productive, writing wise.

I am more than half done the edits on the second Jonathan Alvey novel ‘Bindings & Spines’ and getting a few hundred words in a day on the new fourth novel.

I will soon be posting a spotlight on a fellow author and her new book.

Currently eating ketchup chips and drinking coffee for breakfast.

Hope your life treats you well today and that you treat yourself as well.

Filed under: Mental Health, MIscellaneous, Writing Tagged: Bi-polar, Bindings and Spines, blog for mental health, Brain, characters, coffee, crazy, current work in progress, cycle, edits, good news, guest post, Jonathan Alvey, ketchup chips, Mental Health, muse, novel, paranormal, paranormal private investigator, publish, Urban Fantasy, writer, writing