Kate Willis's Blog, page 87

When the Stories Won’t Stay Away

Last Tuesday, after a very long and harrowing stint of HEAVY EDITING (*hyperventilates into imaginary bag*), I sent my manuscript to my editor. She’s making amazing progress, and I’m so glad I chose to work with her.

Right now, though, I’m in this funny in-between stage. I don’t technically have a story to work on, but until this book is published, I don’t have the time or brain space to start another project.

I’ve purposed to rest, communicate with my launch team, and spend my time enjoying my family and stories written by others.

The Eclipse Tag (x2)

I was tagged by fellow author Tanner Froreich, and just a couple days later Gabby tagged me as well. So this means double the questions! Woohoo! Thanks y’all.

Short Story Review: Create

[image error]“An allegory for artists…

A creative misfit is trapped in a bubble, separated by an invisible barrier from the rest of humanity. She believes nothing will ever break the barrier.

One day a musician begins to play a new song inspired by something she wrote…

A short story.” (from Goodreads)

THIS STORY. So short it’s about the size of a long blog post. Perfectly descriptive of the isolation artists face. The melancholy sadness of being alone. The power of art to bless and to connect.

Happy sigh. I loved reading it.

Short Story: Lanterns

I wrote this story for my creative writing class last fall. It was a little outside of my usual writing style, but I enjoyed writing it. So, I present to you, this dystopian allegory “Lanterns”.

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Day or night, the City was always alive. Never silent, never still. A long stream of hunched people snaked away from the factory gates. Smog filled the air above the factory section, obscuring a bright moon.

Diamond had never seen the towers so closely before. The sleek towers rose above the smog layer, home to the people who could see far enough to rule. They built the factories and paid the workers. And they built the roads across the river.

Afraid to be caught staring, he ducked his head.

The column shuffled to the side to let another pass. Workers for the factory. The next shift. Their thin coats were buttoned to their chins, and they studied the cobblestones beneath their feet.

Diamond stamped his boots impatiently and rubbed his cold hands together. He winced as he traced the bandage on one palm. His work had given him a cut ready to turn into a scar.

The column lurched forward again. Buildings hunched along the streets, their narrow windows glowing orange from the furnaces within. The ashy, sharp smell of industry faded as they broke out of the maze of streets.

Outside the gaslit factory section, the cold air tore at the workers. Water from the swollen riverbanks seeped into their shoes. They straightened slightly at the soft light that met their eyes. The lights here came from lanterns, set in niches along the wall.

“Almost ‘ome, aren’t we?” a raspy voice ventured.

“Yeauh,” another answered.

Diamond looked back at the towers. Their lights were far away now, and he shook off the oppressive feeling he had known all day. It was new to him. Just like the factory job and the itchy sweater he was wearing.

He glanced at the others, still plodding in a line. They weren’t waiting for work or food or pay. No wardens had organized them; it was all they knew to do. They passed the first niche in the stone walls that held the river back from the bridge. Lantern light glowed on the tired, sooty faces.

Diamond stepped out of line and broke into a run. The cool air felt good on his cheeks, and he lifted his face to the moon. He passed another lantern before he slowed to catch his breath.

“Not tired, that one,” an old man in two coats remarked.

A young man glared at the sky from under his hat. “Give him a few more days at the factory, and he’ll walk like the rest of us.”

Diamond shuddered inwardly at their words. Between the wardens and the towers, he already felt tired when he worked. It was a temptation to let the work slide like others did. They all got paid the same no matter. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

The wind was picking up, and the column began to hurry a little. A few anxious faces tore themselves from the path to look at the sky. Diamond ran again. Mother was waiting for him with listening ears and hot soup. Perhaps she had something to soothe his cut.

He stopped running once he was alone, but his thoughts caught up with him. They demanded he sort them out. “I don’t like the wardens, but no one does. They watch too closely like they think we want to make a mistake.”

Diamond kicked a loose stone. “My work’s all right,” he told himself. He pressed on his bandage to relieve some of the pain. “It wasn’t a bad first day.”

A gust of wind slammed into him from behind, and he stumbled forward. He sat down slowly, leaning his back against the wall and holding on to his shaking knees. He blinked. The lanterns had flickered out.

The river rushed on the other side of the wall, and the stones were cold through his sweater. Diamond shut his eyes. It was no darker than if he had been sleeping. There was nothing to fear. He just had to think. A muffled sob broke the stillness, and he realized it was his.

His eyes sprang open. Maybe the moon would guide him home. Only a sliver peeking out from behind the cloud, just enough to prove he hadn’t gone blind. He took a cautious step forward. Then another. Two more before he hurried into a walk.

A loose pebble turned under his heel, and he fell to his knees. The tears were back again. Silent but desperate. They ran down his cheeks and slid off his chin. “Help me, please. I can’t get home.”

Diamond reached out to touch the cold stone wall. “Help me.”

The wind whipped at him, stirring his hair with its freezing blast. He shivered and shoved his hands into his pockets. Pulling himself to his feet, he felt a small something shift in his pocket. A match! His fingers closed around it. What was it doing in his pocket?

“The lanterns!”

He reached his bandaged hand out to the wall and slid his fingers along it, taking hesitant steps. The eerie quiet amplified the pounding of his heart. It skipped a beat when his hand touched nothing but empty air. A niche. With trembling fingers, he drew the match out of his pocket and struck it on his boot. The end burst into flame with a sizzle.

He looked at the rusty, steel lantern, puzzled. It was already open. He shrugged and lit the wick. A gust of cold wind rushed down the road, and he shoved himself against the niche to shield the lantern. It died down in moments, and he ventured to look at the lantern. The flame still shone bright.

Diamond shut the lantern and took it by the handle. The soft light illumined the road around him. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I can go home.”

The way before him was bright, but he ventured a glance behind him. So much swallowing blackness. Diamond’s heart sank when he remembered the column of people. He looked toward the light and back to the blackness. So many were lost just like he had been.

He turned his feet away from home and broke into a run. The precious lantern swung by his side. He heard a gasp and a shout as he rounded a bend in the road.

“Where did you get a light?”

“May we borrow it?”

“We’re saved!”

“Tell us!”

The voices scrambled over each other. Faces questioned and pleaded in the flicker of his lantern.

Diamond caught his breath. “We must walk together.” He helped lift an old woman to her feet. “The light is meant to be shared.”

He shone his light on hunched workers staring listlessly at the silver thread of moon. More stepped into the light. The old man with two coats let a tired mother lean on his arm. A few others carried children, and they all followed Diamond down the cold stone road.

“Who is it?” A harsh voice spoke when the light seeped up the shadows. A young man leaned against the wall, snarling. His hat was pulled down tight over his ears. “Wardens? Come to take us to the endless halls. Bad workers we’ve been, eh?”

“No, it is only Diamond and the others,” he spoke out. “I have brought a light.”

The man’s laugh mocked. “A light, eh? How long will that burn?” The man gestured to the empty lantern in the niche near him. “Something or someone put out all the others.”

“I found a match in my pocket. A gift, I don’t know how. The others weren’t closed against the wind before, but I made sure mine is,” Diamond explained.

One of the workers spoke from behind him. “Tary, does it matter? He has a light. Come with us.”

Tary shook his head. “Follow the kid, fools. I’m staying here. I enjoy the darkness anyway.”

“Let us light your lantern then,” Diamond pleaded. He reached forward, but Tary pushed his arm away violently.

“I said that I enjoy the darkness,” he hissed.

Diamond could feel the workers behind him tense. He sighed and turned away. There was nothing he could do. Still, he couldn’t believe someone would refuse this gift. Not after the terror of waiting in the dark.

The group grew larger than the circle of light, and they lit another lantern from its blaze.

Diamond turned. “Do we have everyone?”

“Everyone but Tary.” The words were low and dismal.

“Where’s Byona?” the old woman asked.

He found himself surprised that they knew each other’s names. “We’ll find Byona and then we’ll turn toward home,” he decided.

They found the girl near the entrance to the road. The tower lights glittered like eyes, and she shivered in their gaze. The old woman hobbled over to her.

“Byona, Diamond has brought us light.” She let go of her cane and laid a withered hand on the girl’s shoulder.

Byona brushed strands of hair out of her eyes. They were large in the glow of the lantern. She fixed them on Diamond but spoke to the woman. “He has?”

Diamond nodded. “It is for everyone who will follow it. A gift.”

The girl smiled and stood up. She put her arm around the old woman’s shoulders, and they melted into the group.

“Now we go home,” Diamond whispered. His words hung on the air as the clouds parted to show the moon.

The people were no longer a column when they reached their quarters. They were a huddled mass of humanity, sharing the gift they had found. Joy and gratitude formed into words. Neighbors called a hearty goodnight by name.

Diamond was alone again when he trudged down the street to his row. He climbed the steps to his flat. Leaving the lantern on the steps, he looked out into the night.

“Thank you for the gift.”

 

Copyright 2018 Kate Willis

Book Review: Shallows

[image error] “The sea isn’t safe. Only the bravest and strongest become sailors. Luminescent mermaids roam the depths and the shallows, mouthing words no one can hear, never surfacing. 

Raised all his life in an island fishing village, bookish Emerson Kadwell has always been warned away from the shore. But an infant memory of a song and the lapping of waves continually draw him.

When Emerson finds a mermaid stranded in an isolated part of the shoreline, the truth about his past and hers will change his world forever. 

A luminescent mermaid. A bookish inventor. A terrible truth. 

Shallows is a clean YA fantasy novel with elements of paranormal and romance. It is the first in a series.” (from Goodreads)

This was a little out of the box for me, but I liked it. A lot.

Interview of Livy Jarmusch

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Today I have a special treat for y’all… an interview of a super sweet author of contemporary Christian fiction!

Join me in welcoming author Livy Lynn to Once Upon an Ordinary!

[image error]Livy, tell us a bit about yourself.

I’m a twenty-something author, singer, song-writer, blogger, and coach. I have a slight obsession with all things Disney, fairy-tale, castles, ball gowns, glitter…pretty much anything lovely and whimsical! My goal as an author is to write stories that follow the words of Philippians 4:8. (Whatever is pure, lovely, noble, admirable, etc.) All of my published work contains pretty strong sprinkles and dashes of all the things I love. (Castles, ball-gowns, puppy dogs…)

What first made you decide you wanted to be an author?

I’ve always enjoyed storytelling, ever since I was a little girl, but I didn’t make the decision to begin pursuing writing professionally, until a few years ago. I was running my online magazine for Christian girls (www.crownofbeautymagazine.com) and I had a few fictional projects I had been working on, just for fun, collecting dust on my computer. I thought, “Hmm, what if our Crown of Beauty girls would enjoy these stories? What if I’m not the only girl who is frustrated with the selection of YA Christian fiction we have available today? What if someone else would enjoy a trip to Tarsurella?” (Tarsurella is the fictitious, modern European country where The Tales of Tarsurella take place.) So I decided to enlist a few Beta Readers, get their feedback…and wow, I was blown away and humbled by their responses! I thought, “Okay God, maybe this is something You have for me. Maybe this is yet another avenue to share truth, and to put your Love and Beauty on display for the world.” And then I started writing like crazy, haha!

May we have an introduction to Tarsurella and The Rebellion specifically?

[image error]Of course! The Rebellion is a sequel to The Coronation, which is book #2 in The Tales of Tasurella trilogy. In The Coronation, Prince Addison is only two weeks away from inheriting the entire Kingdom of Tarsurella. In spite of all the excitement while preparing for this grand event, Prince Addison and his younger siblings (all 7 of them!) must carry on with the daily activities of life. Prince Addison is advised not to begin ruling without a wife by his side, so he’s receiving a lot of pressure to fall in love and find the right woman. Of course, he wants to do things God’s way, which means things aren’t always going to go as one would imagine! The Rebellion picks up just a few months later, as Addison has finally fallen in love…but the political terrain of his nation is incredibly rocky. Rumors of a rebellious uprising among the youth in Tarsurella intensifies, as acts of violence and protest break out across the city. Addison is determined to discover a hidden instigator who is fearlessly blogging democracy-driven ideals, with a secretive pen-name.

Do you have a quote or story passage that makes you smile?

I think one of my favorite quotes from The Rebellion, is:

“An adventure? In a library?” Hanson asked.

“Why of course!” Her eyes shone. “That is where all adventures begin!”

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(And another quote just for good measure.

In Book News…

I spent the day at my cover sister’s house, hanging out with her and her boys and working with her on the final version of my book cover. It’s gonna look so great, y’all! I can’t wait to share it with you.

Book Review: The Shield Ring

[image error]“The story of a young Viking boy who wishes to prove himself a worthy warrior at the time of the Norman invasion.” (from Goodreads)

I can’t quite put a finger on what makes this book so timeless for me. Is it the idea of a last stronghold in the hearts of men? A hero who is brave in more ways than the battle kind? A young woman who loves him with the fierce love of deep loyalty? Or the sprinkling throughout of music to express loneliness and stir hearts?

Something. Bjorn and Frytha, Aikin the Beloved and Garm, Gille and Ari Knudson, and the mazelin have shaped me and my ideals and my writing much. I didn’t realize how much until this re-read.

There were so many key pieces of the story I had forgotten. A quote here, a line there. Even the onomatopeia-ic beauty of the word “holmganging”. This time it was not just an adventure, but I saw more clearly the struggle and the growth of Bjorn. I caught the lines I had missed at Bjornsthwaite and again at the end. I remembered what finally happened with Erland.

I love books that I can read more than once and enjoy just as much. There was a double-edged beauty of looking back on the ten years since I first read it and seeing how the book shaped me while discovering the story all over again.

My older self understood the negatives of the story more clearly as well. The feminism, sadly accurate to their pragmatic and desperate culture. The meshing of the “old gods” and a watered down version of Christianity. The justifiable but sorry idea of revenge.

I have an old copy of this book. The dust jacket is gone, showing the lovely gray-blue cover with three swords and shields. Inside, there is an old library checkout card. A “Michelle B” was the last to check it out in 1975. Such an old story, but a good one.

Busy Day, Good Day

Raise your hand if you almost entirely forgot to blog today! Just me? XD

What have I been doing instead?

Reading…

Beta-reader comments, emails, reviews, etc. This is one of my favorite things about the publishing process, and I’ve been blessed with a pretty cool crew.

Plate Update: Rereads, Strawberries, and Drafts

So, if April showers bring May flowers, then what do May flowers bring? Pilgrims, of course.

(That’s my favorite joke. I just had to share it. Also, if you’re into that sort of thing, Happy Star Wars Day!)

Anyway, here’s a quick update on my full plate last month.