Loni Townsend's Blog, page 33

IWSG – The Pains of Being Epic

Today is the first Wednesday of the month. That means, it’s time for Insecure Writer’s Support Group!

You can find the sign up here. We owe Alex J Cavanaugh a huge thank you for thinking this blog hop up.

My novel, Thanmir War, is epic fantasy. When I released it in December of last year, I hadn’t really thought about a virtual book tour, mostly because I had no clue as to what one was. With the suggestion of a really awesome friend, Melissa Maygrove, I decided to look into them. I turned to trusty Google and realized there were a lot of options. I approached one that had a pretty good rep, and received the following reply.

I would love to take you on for this tour but in my past events with fantasy I have not had much luck getting bloggers signing up for them – it seems I don’t have a large number of tour hosts who read the genre.

Well, that sucked. But they were kind and offered me 3 other suggestions. I pressed on. One was not taking new clients. Another responded with:

Unfortunately, we feel that we don’t have enough tour hosts interested the genre.

…And they gave me 4 other suggestions, two of which weren’t taking new clients. One stated on their website they only took Romance. The other didn’t respond to me for about 2 weeks.

In the meantime, I approached the third of the first suggestions. This one had me really hopeful. She was a book reviewer herself. She had slots in April available. With that in the plan, I politely declined when option 4 from option 2 finally responded.

In February, she backed out of the tour with an apology.

I cried—like those tears you just can’t stop so you scrub the kitchen floor so when people look at you, all they see is the back of your head. My husband cooked me dinner. My sis-in-law mixed me a drink.

After I got over my sobbing, I sat and contemplated my situation. By then, option 4 had changed their services and no longer offered what I wanted. Not to mention my book had been out for 3 months. My spirit had been pretty well crushed. I was hedged with doubt as to whether or not anyone would even read my book (tour or not), and fairly certain I was too late in the game.

I’ve read Crystal Collier’s article about Epic Book Tours. Honestly, I’m still in awe of this woman (for more than just her book tour post). When I go about the next book tour, I plan to follow her advice and try it for myself.

Thanmir War never got its book tour. In the back of my mind, I still replay the conversation between my buddies about how epic fantasy gets less readers than a lot of other genres. To top that, I had the sinking feeling I’d shot myself in the foot with the way I’d written Thanmir War—four separate POVs which eventually converge. (I like to think of it as a frayed rope, where the ends are separate but wind together into one thick cord.) It’s common enough for what I read for enjoyment, but as someone pointed out to me, you start liking a character and then it switches and you’re stuck with someone else for the next however many pages. Like hitting the reset button. Did I kill my momentum? Even so, I wouldn’t have done it differently.

Maybe I’m abnormal for enjoying epic fantasy. Or maybe, I’m just insecure.

What about you? Do you read epic fantasy? What’s your favorite genre?

The post IWSG – The Pains of Being Epic appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

A Dragon’s Lament Book Release!

Jewels of Chandra Book 2 is now available.

Blurb:

Magic is real. So is betrayal.

David enters the Fire Kingdom and events shift from bad to worse. He learns a shocking truth about the dragons, a truth destined to block his efforts to retrieve the lost magic of Shaylar from the ruling Council. After a cave-in and injuries force a rescue, David finds himself more isolated than before as personal concerns scatter his trusted advisors and the wizard who led him there abandons him.

The head of the dragon Council negotiates separate deals with both David and his father, sowing further discord between them. David’s close friend, Lothan, disappears into the caves and doesn’t return. A group of dissidents kidnap Wilks, the child empath David is sworn to protect. With no options left, he accepts the Council’s demands to help them in their centuries-old conflict, risking a war which might kill them all.

Even if David manages to win, there’s no guarantee the dragons will let him leave the region alive. They don’t want the Kingdom of Shaylar to rise again and will stop at nothing to see it remain a pile of dust.

Bio:

River Fairchild is somewhat odd, brandishes a dry sense of humor, owned by several cats. Lives in a fantasy world. A fabricator of magic. Makes stuff up and spins tales about it. Believes in Faerie crossings and never staying in one place for very long. Speculative Fiction wordsmith. The secret to her stories? Spread lies, blend in truths, add a pinch of snark and a dash of tears. Escape into her world. She left the porch light on so you can find your way down the rabbit hole.

Visit River at her Blog.

Buy Links:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Apple Store

Other links can be found at: River Fairchild’s Books

Also available in paperback

I’ve been busy reading the first book, Diamonds & Dust, and I can tell you that I’m looking forward to reading the second one (which I’ve already snagged a copy of). What about you? Are you going to pick up Dragon’s Lament?

The post A Dragon’s Lament Book Release! appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Featured Photo Friday

Today’s featured photo comes during a rainstorm. This one is still with my phone, with a drama filter added for good measure.

I like the 3-D effect on the raindrops on this one.

What do you think?

The post Featured Photo Friday appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

26 take-aways from the #atozchallenge

Whew! April is over, and I’ve compiled my list of take-aways from the A to Z challenge.

April is a good month to take vacation from work
Bloglovin’ is a wonderful tool to track blogs that interest me
Call for criticism earlier to encourage constructive feedback
Daily blog visiting is too stressful for me
Exercise gets pushed to the backburner
Friends are more important than numbers
Group assignments are fun, but limiting
Humor is appreciated
Inspiration means different things to different people
Juggling too many things makes you drop the ball
Kids come first
Lunch hour isn’t long enough
My work-in-progress gained no progress
Next time, if I don’t have more time, I probably won’t participate
Offer meaningful comments, not just a “you should visit me” comment
Personality plays a major role in my appreciation of poetry
Quick posts are nice
Reciprocate visits
Serial stories are hard to jump into the middle of
Time waits for no one
Under normal circumstances…yeah, I still don’t have enough time
Visit based on interest level
Write posts before they’re due
X is a letter many words don’t start with
You’ll never know who you’ll connect with
Zany fun is good fun

What about you? What did you learn?

The post 26 take-aways from the #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part Z #atozchallenge

It’s late. I’ve redone it three times, and honestly, I’m still not satisfied. It could be funnier. I left some loose ends. I’m not sure I covered all my bases. It’s also about 300 words longer than the other segments. *sigh*

But a challenge is a challenge.

And Now, I present the conclusion to Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

Zeppelins clouded the sunset sky, like a swarm of bees on a honeycomb. Turbines hummed and buzzed, and swollen bodies bobbed and floated, surprisingly without crashing into each other.

I focused on them instead of the dagger digging the bullet from my shoulder. “You cleaned that thing, right?”

Seth gave a single-shoulder shrug and twisted the blade for a better angle. Ow. And Ew. Not that the germs would hurt me any more than the knife. He extracted the metal slug, and dropped it in Michael’s upturned palm.

We had climbed out of the cavern and now sat in what remained of Graverock. Bits of the town hall were strewn between the bodies of pirates unlucky enough to have crossed paths with Seth and Fues. Townspeople peeked out from windows of the still-standing buildings.

Undertaker Coleman strutted out from one of the shops, his jowls jiggling with each heavy-footed step. He tucked his thumbs into his waistband and looked us over. “Somethin’ tells me you ain’t the marshals.”

I raised an eyebrow and scanned the fallen pirates. “Do you still need the marshals?” I wouldn’t be surprised if the marshals were already dead, given the mortality rate of law enforcement on this world.

Coleman pursed his lips and studied Molly and Joe. “Someone needs to take care of the scoundrels.”

Molly jutted her chin. “I ain’t a scoundrel.” The turducken on her shoulder nodded in avid agreement.

Coleman shook his head. “Don’t know that I can trust the words of a murder.”

Michael cleared his throat. “Then trust the map.” He held it out to demonstrate his point. “This map has some peculiar markings on it. You see this here? I believe these are initials, one set belonging to Deputy Fischer, and the other to Graverock’s former sheriff. They were likely in agreement to share the treasure once it was found. Perry discovered this plan, shot and killed the sheriff—taking his key and framing her husband for the murder—and then pursued killing the deputy to acquire his items. She did not foresee that the deputy had already hid the map and key with his wife for safekeeping, and thus needed to hunt down Molly to achieve her goals. Perry is your real culprit, and we happen to have her bound and gagged right here.” He waved to the cowgirl, who was being held at gunpoint by her husband.

Ah, young love… Maybe they’d reconcile their relationship before Perry’s hanging.

Joe cocked the shotgun.

Or maybe not.

Coleman stared at Michael. “Sounds a bit far fetched to me.”

“Or maybe,” Michael said. “This documents an ancient race of talking birds who fabricated an elaborate ruse to use their supernatural power to take over this world. These scratch-marks are unclear.”

The turducken’s gaze shifted back and forth.

Either way, there was still a treasure underground. I brightened. “That means the treasure belongs to Molly, right?” Cha-ching!

Coleman straightened and scrutinized Molly. “So I hear you’re in the need for a new husband…”

She rolled her eyes and turned her back on him. “Cera, I’d like to help you find your last companion. And now it seems I’ve got the riches to do just that.”

Seth frowned. “Who are we missing?”

“Rin,” I said.

He looked at my stalker, who sat perched on a pilfered gold statue from the cavern. The two birds looked strikingly similar. I looked down at the scratch marks in the dirt just at the statue’s base.

It read: I am Rin.

Dammit.

Being a full-blood elemental, certain worlds sometimes had an effect on Rin–e.g. it transformed him into a non-humanoid shape. We’d have to leave this world for him to change back to his normal form.

I jabbed Rin in his fowl chest. “You could’ve told me who you were.” I felt a bit bad about how many times he’d been “killed”.

He squawked and muttered in a far-too-animated fashion for his usual disposition. No wonder I didn’t recognize him. Rin’s only personality was the lack thereof.

“I think I like you better as a bird.” I yanked one of his tail feathers free. “Hey Michael, want a new quill?”

Rin squawked indignantly. Any world that turned him into something else meant we couldn’t test whatever cure we happened upon, because it might have a different reaction on our home world. No point in wasting any more time here.

Of course, there was one more detail I needed to take care of.

Molly eyed me. “I guess this is goodbye?”

I patted her on the head. “Yes, yes, I know. You’ll miss me, and you’ll never forget me.” I studied her knee-high leather boots. “Tell me, kid, what size shoe do you wear?”

Z End.

Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

Do you have any criticism? Suggestions? Wild, off-the-wall ideas of “you know what would be funny…?” Let me know in the comments. I’d love to hear them.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part Z #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Z end

Well, guess I fail the A to Z challenge. The fact is, I don’t have Murder Most Fowl – Part Z written to my satisfaction. And I don’t want to post it if I’m not proud of it. You’ll see it before the end of the day, but not right yet.

My apologies.

The post Z end appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part Y #atozchallenge

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

Yelling carried down from the hole overhead, and a figure obstructed the sunlight. I looked from the strange little bird up to our way out.

Moment’s later, Seth’s face appeared through the fissure. “Mistress Cera?”

I waved an arm, and then winced as the bullet in my shoulder struck a nerve. “Michael and I are down here. Where’s Fues?”

The familiar cackle reverberated through the cavern and a dark shadow dropped from the opening. The pygmy thrust his spear down as he landed, and the point lodged in the rubble. The wood bowed, setting Fues gracefully on his feet. He released his hold on the spear and it shot back into a vertical position with a twang.

Show off.

My stalker squawked and soared down. Did he really count as my stalker anymore? I mean, if he really was, shouldn’t he have flown in earlier?

A rope tumbled from the hole, and Seth slid down its length. He scanned the area with narrowed eyes and fixated on the treasure turkey-duck-chicken. “What is that?”

I looked at Fues. “Don’t eat it. It talks.”

The pygmy stared back at me. “…so?”

Michael poked it with a finger. “It is the last remaining survivor of an ancient civilization.”

I glanced about the cavern. “How is this little guy—or girl—supposed to procreate if she—or he—is all alone?”

The turducken ruffled its feathers. “I am not alone. There is another egg right…” We followed its gaze to a broken chunk of rock lying on top of what was probably another statue. Its feathers flattened. “Oh.” It turned and studied my small group. “I don’t suppose any of you are geneticists?”

Mr. Stalker hopped closer and pecked the turducken on the head.

The smaller bird flinched. “Hey!”

“Well…” I scratched my chin. “The only one who might be able to help in that department would be our last companion, Rin.” He was a full-blood elemental, not a partial human mixed-blood like me. He had the gift of knowing the complete history of something just by touching it, and probably could have figured some way to at least clone the bird.

Too bad he wasn’t here.

Another shadow dipped through the hole overhead, and Joe shuffled down the rope. He slipped 11/18ths of the way down and crashed to the cavern floor. He stood, brushed himself off, and hefted his father’s shotgun. “Where’s Perry?”

I nodded toward Miss Medium-Rare, still lying unconscious nearby. “Now, let’s talk about rewards…”

Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

Do you have any criticism? Suggestions? Wild, off-the-wall ideas of “you know what would be funny…?” Let me know in the comments. I’d love to hear them.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part Y #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part X #atozchallenge

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

“X marks the spot.” Molly zeroed in on Perry’s pendant and pulled the trigger.

Ow! Mother friggin’… This girl was a pain in the butt. Literally! “Seriously kid, you need to learn how to aim.” I rubbed my posterior and flinched. Wisps of smoke rose from where the lightning had hit. I stomped to Molly and ripped the gun from her hand. “Stop ruining my clothes!”

Molly pointed an indignant finger at Perry. “She done killed my husband. I deserve to have my revenge.”

“On my skirt?!” A new outfit was top on my list after I cashed in on her reward.

Perry shook her head. “The deputy should’a known better than to take what was mine. He had no business stealin’ my map and the other key.”

Molly’s cheeks reddened. “Liar!”

“I ain’t lyin’, honey.” Perry sneered. “Now how about you hand over that there necklace of yours?”

I lifted the gun and fired. Lightning blasted Perry in the chest and flung her against the far wall. She struck and slumped into a pile.

Michael rushed to Perry’s inert form and detached the necklace. “I have the key! I told you this was a map. You see? I am never wrong.”

I waved Molly toward the stone bird.

Michael met us there. “From what I have deciphered, these keys will unlock the greatest treasure of an ancient civilization. We need to insert them at the same time.”

Molly lifted her pendant. They exchanged glances and then, after a sharp intake of breath, inserted the matching keys.

The two ‘x’s sank into the slots and twisted with a grinding noise of stone gears. The bird’s beak fell open. A dark egg rolled out. It reached the edge and dropped onto the stone beneath the bird’s feet. Everything went silent. We waited. I looked at Michael and he shrugged.

Molly frowned. “Is that all?”

The egg cracked. A second later, the top popped off and a feathery little creature rolled out. It blinked its eyes at Molly.

I studied the creature. “Is that a…”

“Turkey?” Michael asked.

“Duck?” Molly suggested.

“Chicken,” I decided.

I cluackgled at us. Wow. Some treasure. A red snood hung from over its bill, and a white downy covered it’s squat frame. It waddled to Molly. “Mama!”

Wait…did that bird just talk?

Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

Do you have any criticism? Suggestions? Wild, off-the-wall ideas of “you know what would be funny…?” Let me know in the comments. I’d love to hear them.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part X #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part W #atozchallenge

Hi all! I know this is late. Technically I still have 1 hour and 40 minutes in my timezone for my post to go live before the day is over. The reason why I’m late is because I rewrote the segment today and just now finished it. Have I mentioned I’m a pantser? Unlike the Niniers, the Cera Chronicles are completely pantsed. I actually don’t know what’s going to happen in X, Y, and Z. But, I suppose that’s what makes writing fun. Now, on with the story!

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

Wind howled through the buildings, mourning the death of the bartender.

Joe sniffled and wiped his nose. “Pa…I always knew those’d be his last words.”

Perry turned her weapon on Joe and squeezed the trigger. I threw out a hand and slapped the ray-gun down. Lightning lanced toward Joe’s toes and he shrieked.

Pirates opened fire. My stalker took flight. Seth whipped his sword up. A bullet split in half and struck the dirt to either side of him. He spun into a charge and started slicing down opponents. Fues erupted into a cackle and let loose a flurry of arrows, one right after the other. He fanned out opposite of Seth in a cone of doom.

I yanked the ray-gun away from Perry. Alright, now how did I use this? I knew not to look directly at the pointy end. But this trigger… I squeezed. Bright blue-white light zapped in a stream and caught my stalker by the tailfeathers. It squawked and glowered at me. A shiver raced up my arms, and I grinned. This was fun!

“Mistress Cera!” Michael rushed from the town hall, Molly on his heels. He threw the door closed behind him. “It was not my fault! She did it. I had all the materials ready and then she—”

“It weren’t my fault.” Molly scowled at him. “A child has no right to be messin’ with—”

“I am not a child!” His face turned crimson. “I am—”

A pirate jumped from the town hall awning with a battle cry. I fired the gun, and he landed in a fit of spasms. I looked at Michael. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Oh. Bomb!” An explosion blasted from within the building, blowing the door off its hinges. Broken shards of glass pelted outward. The ground shuddered. A crack snaked between my feet and started to widen.

Perry dove for Molly. I snatched Michael as the ground jutted. His little feet slipped and scrambled. Wood moaned. Dirt slid and rocks tumbled. The town hall tilted and began to sink. My footing crumbled beneath me, and the ground swallowed us. I flung my arms around Michael and twisted as we dropped out into a cavern.

I landed with my back against stone and Michael against my chest.

Silence hung as dust settled. I opened my eyes and stared straight up. A single shaft of light poured in from overhead. Rows upon rows of gilded bird statues hung from the cavern’s ceiling. Emeralds, rubies, and diamonds sparkled from carved eye-sockets. Silk and satin sashes hung from frozen feathers.

Except for one. One bird was plain stone with grooves cut where the eyes should have been—a pair of matching ‘x’s.

Michael groaned into my bosom and rolled off to lay next to me. A singed scrap of leather fluttered lazily from the hole and landed on his face. He grasped the edges of Molly’s map and held it out at arm’s length. “I think I know where we are.”

I rolled onto my stomach, pushed myself to my feet, and sighed. Separated again. And I’d lost my fun new ray-gun. I squinted through the dim lighting and found Perry standing nearby, head craned back, eyes staring at the plain carved bird. Blood dripped from her perforated hand.

“Is this why you killed him?” Molly asked.

I looked over my shoulder at her. Sun glinted off the ‘x’ shaped pendant around her neck. Perry turned around to face us—the same pendant hanging at her throat.

Molly lifted my ray-gun. “You know what they say about treasure hunts…”

Read X here.

Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

Do you have any criticism? Suggestions? Wild, off-the-wall ideas of “you know what would be funny…?” Let me know in the comments. I’d love to hear them.

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part W #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.

Murder Most Fowl – Part V #atozchallenge

For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.

Violence wasn’t always my first response, but on this world, I considered it my go-to solution. I lobbed a fireball at the cowgirl who’d been annoying me more than my stalker. She rolled out of the way and disappeared behind one of the walls.

Pandemonium erupted. The good people of Graverock charged for the other exit while Undertaker Coleman doled out cover fire. He saluted me. “Well, I’ve gotta go meet my new clients. Good luck!” He yanked the door closed behind him.

I growled and charged after Perry, summoning more flames to my bidding.

“Mistress Cera!” Michael scrambled after me. “The metal on this world reacts to your power. If you use too much—”

I raced out into the open. A bullet struck my shoulder. Pain burned deep and blood dribbled from the wound.

Without looking, Seth flung one of the many daggers he always carried. The cowboy who’d shot me dropped dead.

I clutched my shoulder, applying pressure to stem the blood flow. “This world can actually kill me?” Well that was frigging fantastic. I extinguished my fire. Brute force it’d be then.

Fresh skin spread over the wound. I released my shoulder and scanned the group surrounding the entrance. About two-dozen assailants—a mix of human and cattle, most dressed like the pirates I’d fought earlier.

Metal clicked near my ear, and a barrel touched my temple. “I don’t know why you’re involved…” Perry pressed her six-shooter harder against my face. “But this is where you get uninvolved.”

Wood creaked with a tightening bow string somewhere behind me. Off to my side a shadow moved. “Don’t kill her.”

Perry snorted. “Don’t you mean me?”

“Well, yes, but not in the way you do.” I turned my head to look at her, and the barrel centered between my eyes. Past Perry’s head, I could see Seth’s towering form, and the sword poised to behead her. In my peripheral, Fues stood in the doorway, arrow nocked. I dropped my gaze and focused on the ‘x’ shaped pendant hanging from a leather collar around her neck. I’d seen one of those before…

Joe crept out through the doorway. “Perry?”

She cast him a glance. “Joseph? I missed you…” She swung the six-shooter in his direction. “But my aim’s gettin’ better.”

The air cracked with a boom. Perry screamed and clutched her hand. Bartholomew reloaded his shotgun. “Nobody shoots my son ‘cept me.”

Perry whipped another gun from her belt with her opposite hand and fired. Lightning shot in a glorious blaze.

Bartholomew’s eyes went wide and his gaze dropped to the hole in his shirt. “You’re gonna…” His knees buckled and the toothpick fell from his mouth. “…pay for that…”

Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.

Do you have any criticism? Suggestions? Wild, off-the-wall ideas of “you know what would be funny…?” Let me know in the comments. I’d love to hear them.

Edit:

I completely forgot about Featured Photo Friday! So here is a macro shot of a violet flower.

I don’t actually know what these flowers/plants are called, but they are everywhere around here. I’m not even sure if they’re considered a flower or a weed. But it was either this shot, which I took about a month ago, or vegetables, which were much more boring.

Hopefully you like the photo. And if you know what it is, I’d love to find out!

The post Murder Most Fowl – Part V #atozchallenge appeared first on Squirrel Talk.