Helen B. Henderson's Blog, page 3

2025 N : Names #mfrwhooks

    

In the challenge, "N" is for names.The inspiration for the post came from two sources: frustration at finding an 'N" topic and searching some character names. I have several techniques for names. A few thoughts and hints follow.

 - - an old stand-by for contemporary works is a baby name book, especially ones that provide a cultural connection

- - as shown in the earlier post for the challenge "J,” a technique is to take a name and change the spelling. Jon or John. A similar action was taken with the character, Haldric. As the lieutenant under the control of the cult-leader called the Parant he was Haldric. Then in Hatchling’s Vengeance the spelling was changed to Caldrih to represent his rehabilitation and leaving the cult.

- - a favorite resource is historic lists. They can be for a given country or heritage or a time frame. The names can be used with the original connection. For example, a Celtic name for a story set in Scotland or Ireland. Or, names that are immediately identifiable with a given time or culture, Vikings, Aztecs, the old west.

As a change of pace from resources, I thought I would share a couple of frustrations with naming. Both with my own work and in others.

- - sound alikes. A while back I attended a writers conference where the attendees gathered in small groups in hotel rooms to read the other's works. Which gives rise to a pet peeve, too many similar sounding names. The short story had John, James Jane, Javon, and Jake. You couldn't read The story aloud without your tongue tripping over the "J" names. The author’s excuse was that was the way the had named the children. The never accepted that reality does not always need to be followed.

- - Similarly are names that end alike. This was a problem with the Dragshi Chronicles. Almost every other name in the historic lists ended with "A" or "N."

Keeping trace of replicants and sound alike a series bible for each series or A spreadsheet tracking character names and characteristics for the stand-alone novels and shorter works.

~ I hope you enjoyed this excursion into my writing life. till next time, Helen 

 

Buy the Windmaster Novels at Amazon and These Sites

 

Buy Dragshi Chronicles at Amazon and These Sites

If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants. 

2025 M : Matawan

   

In the challenge "M" is for Matawan, a town in Monmouth County, New Jersey. In disclosure, I lived in the town for a few years before I moved to the neighboring Borough of Keyport. The railroad divides the two towns so I literally moved to the other side of the track.

Although I was not born in Matawan, my in-laws were residents of the town for three generations. Volunteering at the local historical society started as an aid to my husband who was an officer at the time. Acting as his clerical help led to more projects and positions excluding president of the Matawan Historical Society and director of the Burrowes Mansion Museum.

Burrowes Mansion Museum
Main Street, Matawan NjThe local work expanded from the revolutionary war-era history house museum to historic battlefields, journalism, multiple documentaries, and of course, the history books.

Instead of excerpts I thought I would share a few lines about the Matawan histories.

AroundMatawan and Aberdeen

Contains over 180 historic photographs, many rare and previously unpublished. Theimages are used to illustrate the changes of Matawan and Aberdeen, New Jersey,from a colonial settlement to a 1920s resort, and as an industrial area to thesuburban bedroom community of today.

Matawan and Aberdeen: Of Town and Field

Work covers the history of the MonmouthCounty, New Jersey towns of Matawan Borough and Aberdeen Township frompre-history times and the first settlers through to the new millennium. Thebook concludes with how the residents pulled together after their losses of9-11-2001. 160 pages 100 photos 

From the Back Street to Main Street… And Beyond

The history chroniclesthe Society of Methodists of Middletown Point from its early beginnings withcircuit rider preachers to the current congregation of the 21stcentury as the Matawan United Methodist Church in Aberdeen.

Parade float

~till next time, Helen 

 

  

Buy the non-fiction works as noted:

Around Matawan and Aberdeen at Amazon / Barnes&Noble

Matawan and Aberdeen: Of Town and Field at Amazon and Barnes&Noble

From the Back Street to Main Street ... And Beyond at Amazon

If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants.

2025 K : Kimeshi

 

   

Next in the challenge is "K" for Kimeshi.  In the world of the dragon When certain humans are born, the dragons sing a welcome, not just for the human babe, but also its dragon soul twin. The dragon half of the paring usually signals its existence when its human mate reaches early adulthood. However, most of the dragon soul twins just watch the goings of the world from their quiet corner of the human twin's mind. 

Kimeshi's human soul twin is Mirabeesh her story has been told in several posts including Diovi, Mirabeesh so this one will focus on the dragon half of the pairing. 

In many ways the dragons mirror their human soul twin. When Kimeshi awakened, Mirabeesh thought the lilting tone in her head sounded so similar to her own her own, she had known it all her life. Mirabeesh had the long dark hair of her kind, and her dragon soul twin reflected the coloring.

You can learn more about the dragshi and their dragon soul twins in the Dragshi Chronicles.

From "Fire and Ice" the story of Kimeshi's emergence and Mirabeesh's first change.

Purple symbols merged with a silver mist, solidifying into a rope that rose from the ground to disappear in the clouds. Mirabeesh reached for the cord, but her mind remained too confused from the cold and Xelme’s abuse. The rope remained beyond her grasp.

<Do not fear,> Kimeshi sang.

All fear at the unknown vanished. Her soul joined another’s, not in the way of man and woman, but stronger. Mirabeesh was herself, and also Kimeshi. They were one. There was the sensation of weightlessness, then of being part of another. Black, not her gown, but those of dragon’s wings crossed her vision. The cold of ice was replaced with the sensation of air on her face.

~till next time, Helen 

 

To read "Fire and Ice," get First Change: Legends From The Eyrie at Amazon and These Sites
If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants.

2025 J : Jon or John

  

Next in the challenge is "J" for Jon. Or is is John? The similar names appear in different worlds. The name "John," which ultimately derives from the Hebrew name "Yohanan" meaning "God is gracious." "Jon" is a short form of the name.

Jon appears in Windmaster as the cabin boy on Sea Falcon. Although sold by his mother into service to the House of Cszabo, he was loyal to the ship and crew. Especially to its Captain Ellspeth who he thought of as an older sister. This loyalty resulted in the following snippet.

From Windmaster:

Dal stood silent while Ellspeth considered the offer. At her nod, they joined the crew gathered around the sail-wrapped body. Deep breaths, Ellspeth told herself. The crew must not see your pain. Jon honored his house... and you.

Dal’s somber rendition of the words of final journey seemed far away. She hardly noticed when four crewmen took the wizard’s place at the opening in the rail. Her fingers moved of their own volition to send the flute’s haunting refrain over the water. On the dirge’s final note, the crew tilted the board. A solitary ripple marred the surface of the lake when the body dropped into its dark depths.

You've read the price of Jon's loyalty. Read Windmaster to see his actions. As an additional note, Ellsworth used the name Jon when she disguised herself as a male.

As far as John? The name is borne by several family members through the generations. Its use was not set in a fantasy world, but a science fiction tale near of the future. Passengers on tomorrow'strans-continental orbiter discover what can happen when humans abdicate control.When the artificial intelligence pilot changes the flight schedule, one passenger,a holdover from an earlier time in aviation, shows the resilience of humanspirit as he overcomes the errant technology to save the doomed flight.

From "Live or Surrender to Technology" in Hearth and Sand: Stories From The Front Lines and the Homefront.

The aircraft reached cruising altitude and the last of Chippi’s strength deserted him. After a final pull on his seat belt, he dropped off into a sleep that was neither restful nor deep. From a habit born of years in the cockpit, one part of his mind retained an awareness of his surroundings. The bustle of flight attendants taking food orders and dispensing drinks served as a connection to the life around him.The plane’s tilt as it entered a steep bank pulled Chippi to alertness. With flights now computer controlled to avoid weather fronts, he knew the steep turn indicated a major problem. Before he could summon an attendant, a computer voice, one almost indistinguishable from a true human’s, came over the aircraft’s message system.“Good afternoon. This is the Captain speaking. Due to inclement weather, there will be a delay in landing. The seatbelt light will remain on until the weather clears.”Chippi looked out the window. However, instead of storm clouds, he was greeted by a clear blue sky. The view below disturbed him even more. This isn’t right, he thought. The NorPac dike follows the coastline from MexCal to Puget Sound. It should be just off our starboard wing. But the massive structure that held the Pacific Ocean at bay and served as the foundation for the desalination plants was not visible from either side of the craft. Only a vast unbroken expanse of water appeared in the viewports.

A several hundred-foot plummet tossed a flight attendant into the empty seat across from Chippi. Moments later a steep climb careened a passenger into her, turning the pair into a tangle of arms and legs. With each violent movement, passengers who weren’t buckled in were tossed about the cabin like leaves in a tornado. The lock on an overhead compartment, stressed beyond its limits, snapped. Briefcases, portable video projectors, and other sundry items flew out of the storage compartments and pelted passengers.

Shrieks from those so attacked added to the pandemonium.In the midst of the chaos, the computer pilot’s cheerful voice again greeted the passengers. “Good afternoon. This is the Captain. Due to inclement weather, there will be a delay in landing. The seatbelt light will remain on until the weather clears.”Chippi, who had seen airplanes go from human pilots to human-supervised computer pilots and eventually to artificial-intelligence systems knew the movements were not a normal reaction to the weather. The meteorological advances of the last fifty years, now allowed experts to dampen the more severe weather interactions of the uppermost air currents. As a result, air travel was safer than at any time since Charles Lindbergh made his historic flight across the Atlantic Ocean.“It’s finally happened,” he muttered. “One of those darned computers finally broke. We always said people should have stayed in the cockpit.”

Two Johns and an early me
A later image of the John  (aka Dad) who was the inspiration for John Chippi in “From "Live or Surrender to Technology" in Hearth and Sand: Stories From The Front Lines and the Homefront.

~I hope you enjoyed these thoughts on Jon /John. till next time,Helen

Buy Windmaster at Amazon and These Sites

Buy Hearth and Sand at Amazon and These Sites 

If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants.

2025 I : Islands

Next in the challenge is "I" for Islands. Fantasy worlds can contain multiple lands of various geographies. Continents might be more common as they constitute a greater land mass. However islands can help create a more varied world especially if there is a sailing industry.

Semelen, old friend of the archmage, lived on a volcanic island in the Southern Sea. One of its notable features is the kapuna tree, the heritage of all mages.

From Windmaster.

Something shimmered at the end of a branch. The leaf’s vein was a vibrant pure red. Instead of the stillness of the other leaves, this one pulsed. Even before he spotted the rune that symbolized his own name, Dal realized the leaf’s rhythm was that of his own heartbeat. The leaf marked his lifeline.

At the end of the branch, a leaf without a symbol also vibrated. He ran a finger along of its main vein. Despite the feather-light touch, a shock numbed his arm. Ellspeth’s face appeared then faded, leaving behind only an undefined yearning.

The flicker of the adjacent leaf was noticeably slower, and with each passing second, the color turned darker and darker. Its small veins had already shifted into deep red. Dal knew without even looking that the name marked on the leaf was Semelen’s.

Semelen’s hand felt warm on Dal’s shoulder, despite the coolness of the glade. “It was not your fault, my friend, that you were away when it happened. The poison spread so quickly not even the most skilled healers among us could have saved those on the island. We’re just fortunate you survived to carry on the work... and to rebuild the council.”

Dal wrenched away from the intended comfort. “There is no council anymore. Everyone is dead. I built the pyres myself.” His voice grew quieter with each word, until it was almost a whisper.

Semelen spun Dal around, his grip firm despite his impending death. “No. You always were the strongest of us all. If not, you would never have been made Archmage. You have Voan and Jesmen to help. In time, there will be others.”

“It took five score of us to make a school.”

The old islander gestured to the tree behind them. “Your strength is that of the kapuna—the strength of all who have gone before. You still have access to the books of knowledge. They date back to when Belrum came out of the desert and settled on the island. The council has to be rebuilt. The prophecy has begun. You know the beginning is cast. Only the ending remains shrouded.” Semelen moved closer. Although the old man’s face remained expressionless, Dal heard the urgency roughen the other’s words. “Mages will have magic, whether good or bad.”

~till next time, time, Helen 

 

Buy the Windmaster Novels at Amazon and These Sites

If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants.

2025 H : Holidays. #MFRWhooks

   

Next in the challenge is "H" for Holidays. Following the theme, an excerpt from the dark fantasy, Imprisoned in Stone featuring the Turn's End celebration. To set the stage, like our New Year's Eve, Turn's End is time for reflection and celebrating new beginnings. It is also a time for parties and dances. Even in the backwoods glen of the fighting wizard, Tralin, they will celebrate. 

The excerpt covers the male residents of the vale.

As part of the barn’s transformation into a grand hall, linen cloths transformed wide planks into an impromptu table. Cookies, an iced cake and bowls of candied fruit formed part of the holiday feast. Gareth had made a spicy nut bread popular with the mountain clans with flour ground from nuts collected earlier in the season. Slices of the special food surrounded a silver carafe of honey. Platters covered with cheese and several bottles of red wine comprised the rest of the refreshments.

Cascades of small, translucent globes dangled from invisible strings to form a curtain across one of the stalls. Colwynn ran a finger over one of the spheres. An ancient tune shimmered in the air. Maerva’s blood danced to the spirit melody.  

For the past week, Maerva had wondered what colors Gareth and Colwynn would be wearing, and if her dress would complement or conflict. A single glance answered what the men refused to divulge despite her questioning. Instead of their usual rough spun shirts and leather breeches, both wore finery worthy of a royal court. Colwynn had chosen a light blue long-sleeve shirt and a deep contrasting shade of the same color for his matching pants and vest. Gareth’s clothes were hues of hunter green. Even their scuffed boots shone.

~till next time, Helen 

 

Buy Imprisoned in Stone at Amazon and These Sites

If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants.

2025 G : Guilds

   

Next in the challenge is "G" for guilds. At its core, a guild is an association of artisans and tradesmen who oversee the practice of their craft. Groups can also be restricted by region.

The Ceoltier Guild in the dragshi chronicles is the training and governance body for those who would be teachers, historians, and arbiters of Justice. Like medieval guilds, their ranks were apprentice, journeymen, and masters. Brown cloaks with green lining marked their rank. Different shades indicated apprentice (light green color of new hay); journeyman (alpine meadow in summer); master (dark green color of jewels from the western mountains). No one will attack or physically harm a guild member. They would find themselves ostracized, with nowhere to hide, or the victim of sarcastic tunes people can't get out of their minds.

There was also a non-traditional level called a special. These were students that were not part of the guild. As such, they would have no road, no journeying. And even more important, did not have to be male. Anastasia as well as both male and female dragshi lords received training at the Ceoltier Hall as special students.

~till next time, Helen 

 

Buy the Dragshi Chronicles at Amazon and These Sites 

If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants.

2025 F : Freedom

   

Next in the challenge is "F" for Freedom. To illustrate both freedom and the opposite, being imprisoned, snippits from Windmaster Legend.

To set the stage, Leod has been placed under house arrest for bringing a weapon into a joint celebration of the trading houses. Even worse, he attempted to assault a member of his house and threatened a senior member of another trading house. Adding to the humiliation, Leod considered himself a future leader of his guild council and perpetually used his family's power and influence to get whatever he wanted. The excerpt concludes with what will be at least a temporary freedom.

From Windmaster Legend:

For the fifth time that day, Leod paced the exterior wall of the compound. It had taken a handful of silver to purchase his release from ship arrest. But the transfer to the main compound had not turned into the freedom he had envisioned. He had only traded one cell for another. Unlike the guards who kept the docks secure and who for a few coppers would look the other way for a candlemark or two, those at the main compound could not be bribed nor tricked.

The guards finally relaxed the house arrest to allow him into the rest of the compound. This freedom allowed more than fresh air and sunshine. It meant he had access to the outside world. “And apprentices to obey their superiors,” he laughed. “Now if that darned first-year boy would learn to return with my meal in a timely manner.”

A flash of color showed the youth returning. He had a bag in one hand and a sheaf of paper in the other. “Sorry for the delay, master. Fifth of the council caught me returning from your errand.”

“Follow me,” Leod ordered. He took a seat on a bench beneath a shade tree. “Give me my meal, then report.”“Fifth wants you to go to the lumberyard.” The boy waved the papers. “Here’s the list of items you are supposed to pick up and deliver to the ships as marked. The wagon will be here shortly. The horses were just being hitched up when I passed the barn.”

Unlike Leod who deserved the restriction of his freedom, the following excerpt deals with Iol, captain of Loch Bird ... and as far as Leod was concerned, the reason for all his problems. It was Iol who got his own command when Leod was given a garbage scow. Even worse, Pelra, the one woman who Leod couldn't charm, bully, or conquer, chose Iol as her mate.

The wick in the thin slab of wax tilted. The last spark flickered out, plunging the room into complete darkness. Curses learned at the wharves escaped Iol’s tight lips. If the guards had provided a full-size candle it would have lasted most of the day. However, they only stuck a short stub in the high sconce. “More of Leod’s machinations,” he growled. “That one has much to pay for.”

While the barred windows and locked doors of the storage building usually sufficed to incarcerate sailors who had committed some infraction or imbibed too much on shore leave, the council had decreed different arrangements for Iol. His prison was a windowless, ten-foot square room in the back of the barn. Even shallow breaths reminded him of the previous occupants—recalcitrant stallions sequestered before gelding.

The fragile hope that Faeld would be able to gather support to overturn the verdict vanished before the first cold meal. Whispers the guards meant for him to hear made it clear the councilman’s hold on his position as Third Seat was tenuous. No release would be coming from that direction. “Nor from the Bard Guild,” he growled. A message sneaked in from Conall stated their petitions were rejected. In fact, only his rank and the fact he had four senior journeymen with him, prevented the master from a physical assault.

Darkness of the soul—as well as that of the body—surrounded Iol in a cocoon as tight as a coffin.

~till next time, Helen 

 

Buy Windmaster Legend at Amazon and These Sites

If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants.


 

2025 E : Event in St. Louis

   

Next in the challenge is E for events. In this case, I am referring to Books by the Arch, a reader event being held October 11, 2025 at the Drury Plaza Hotel, St. Louis, Missouri.

If you are in the area, I hope you will stop by. The authors would love to meet you. And if you would like to pre-order a book, either mine or another authors, their forms can be found here as the authors add their forms. So be sure to check back.

I hope you will check out my books. Reviews, excepts, buy links and a free read of first chapters can be found in the pull-down menus at the top of the page.

 ~till next time, Helen 

If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants.

Follow me on Facebook, BlueSky, and Twitter for event news and activities.

 

2025 D : Disguise

 Next in the challenge is "D" for disguise. Disguises can be achieved in various ways. Trellier used magic in the Tear Stone Collectors to hide his dragon form. Unless he chose to reveal his true self, all anyone saw was tall, thin man, a scholar who was totally unskilled in the handling of weapons. In reality, his abilities wish a sword were impressive, more so when supplemented by dragon strength.

In Dragon Destiny, Anastasia donned the physical disguise of a teen-age boy so that she could attend the Ceoltier Guild. The disguise was necessary because only men could study there. Both masters and students knew Anastasia's true gender, but didn't care. Anastasia, or Stosh, her cover identity, was one of them.

From Windmaster,another type of disguise, misdirection both physical and mental.

Captain Ellspeth and Lord Dal are out of supplies. The storekeep couldn't get their order ready until morning and a decision had to be made whether to spend the night or continue on. The inn meant shelter for the night, a hot meal, and respite from the frantic run across the countryside. As part of their disguise, Dal dressed in the armor of his mercenary days, while Ellspeth wore the clothes and slave chain of his captured concubine. Dal's physical presence precluded any of the tavern's patrons from asking too many questions. Until the fanatic cleric who wanted to kill them strode into the room and arrogantly demanded to hire Dal. And have the services of his woman for the night.

In between sips of caffa, Ellspeth continued her inspection of the tavern’s other patrons. The sense of being stared at was overwhelming. Eyes seemed to claw at her clothes. She steeled herself to endure it. Despite the fact the low-cut blue dress she had changed into at their last meal break did not reveal much more than her usual garb of breeches and vest, she could not fight the feeling of being exposed. Her skin crawled at a sudden realization. As Dal’s slave, she could not refuse any man’s advances.

I hope Dal’s right, that no sane person would test the mercenary he appears to be.

But an armed drunk might, came the insidious answer from her fear.

Her eyes still downcast as appropriate to her station, Ellspeth opened her eyelids just enough to scrutinize the other occupants. The hair on the back of her neck rose. Danger! Instinct drew her eyes to the staircase on the far wall. There! He is the source. A cleric in the long brown robes of the Oracle of Givneh plodded down the steps into her line of vision. Ellspeth’s breath caught in her throat. He was the same man who had tried to take Sea Falcon—to kill her crew.

“Dal,” she hissed, “he’s the one from the dock.”

Ellspeth’s thoughts raced. If she stayed, the cleric would recognize her. If she tried to leave, it would bring his attention to her even faster.

Dal’s strong arms wrapped around her waist. Ellspeth’s squeal as he pulled her onto his lap pierced the buzz of conversation and bounced off the rafters. His strength rendered her struggles useless. One of the men with his arms around a disheveled woman called out encouragement. Before she could object, Dal’s mouth covered hers. His right hand held the back of her head in a steel grip. Before her lungs were depleted of air, he released her just enough to catch a breath. The whiff of oxygen helped clear Ellspeth’s mind—and focus her thoughts. The cleric couldn’t recognize her if he couldn’t see her face.

Ellspeth tightened her leg muscles so her weight was supported by the edge of the bench rather than Dal’s knees. His exhalation was warm on her neck when he whispered, “Good girl,” into her hair.

She entwined her fingers into his thick curls. A pull signaled her cooperation, and she threw herself into the deception. Three quick tugs loosened the laces of his shirt exposing his chest. With a shrug, she inched her gown further down her shoulders. The iron links of Dal’s vest were cold on her skin as her caresses moved down his back.

But Ellspeth's disguise was more than pretending to be a concubine. There was a persona, a projection of what the world expected to see. She didn't rely on her own skills, or those she learned from her mother. Dal's mother helped with the outfit and physical appearance.

Ellspeth calculated how fast she could draw her weapon. Eilidh had showed her how to pull the narrow dagger from its leg sheath. Ellspeth prayed the hilt of the blade would not catch on the seam since she had never actually used the slit hidden in a fold of the gown’s full skirt.

“Go way,” Dal growled, “off duty.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to? I am Gille Erim, Third Bishop of the Oracle.

“Don’ care. My orders are to disappear for a month. This woman is mine! Bought and paid for. And I plan on gittin’ what I paid for.”

The bishop’s indignant stutter broke off when the heavy trestle top clunked to the floor mere inches from his toes.

Ellspeth found herself hefted into the air in the same lithe movement Dal used to kick over the table. He rose and stepped around the obstruction. Fists pounded on tables and laughter resounded from the low ceiling as he draped her over his shoulder, her hair hanging down almost to the floor. Swift strides took him to the stairs. “Fearguis,” he yelled in a voice guaranteed to be heard above the clamor of a battlefield, “send our food upstairs.”

Ellspeth peered through tresses, now black at Eilidh’s suggestion, as they swung in time to Dal’s steps. What kind of woman is Dal’s mother? Not even my mother is as skilled in the arts of concealment and disguise.

I hope you enjoyed this visit to the world of Windmaster.

~till next time, Helen 

Buy Windmaster at Amazon and These Sites

If you're following other blogs in the challenge, here's the master list of the other participants.