P.H. Solomon's Blog, page 332

4 Common Computer Questions

 

When other writers find out that I work by day in computer support, technical questions are immediately asked of me. Here are some of those questions and my suggestions in answer (NOTE: I’m not doing technical support from this site so please don’t ask me about fixing problems).

What brand should I use? I rarely answer this directly as there are several good brands of computers available depending on your taste and budget. The main idea I suggest is research the brand and model.
My battery doesn’t charge anymore. Should I replace my laptop? This depends on one main factor: the age of the laptop. A new battery can cost between a quarter to half of the cost of an inexpensive laptop so if the laptop is over three to four years old and/or out of warranty you might consider replacing it. At that age a laptop may have other parts that fail so investing more money into it may be a losing prospect versus a new, affordable laptop. Also consider this: many newer laptops have solid-state hard drives with less failure potential as well as improved battery life.
Should I get a laptop or a tablet? If you travel a lot then a tablet is ideal and may last longer than a laptop. With a laptop the keyboard can fail/break or the screen can stop working with age. While a tablet can be broken, an external keyboard can be more easily replaced. I’m strongly considering a tablet when I eventually replace my current laptop. Regardless, my next computing device will have a solid state drive.
Where should I get a new laptop/tablet? What should I pay? I look for good buys on clearance/refurbished sites. Also, consider getting an extended warranty especially if you carry your laptop/tablet to various locations or travel frequently. However, if you are mainly computing from home then there is less wear and tear on it so the standard warranty is fine. As far as how much to pay it depends on what you r usage. If you just write then something less expensive is fine. If you play games or do more intensive tasks like graphics design then something with more horsepower (more memory and faster CPU) and a larger screen should be considered.

So those are some common questions I get. What questions, suggestions or personal preferences do you have? Please share your thoughts in the comments section. Also, remember if you opt to follow this blog via email I’ll send you a coupon to download my award-winning short story, The Black Bag, for FREE.

Thanks for reading and check back often for news. I’m currently completing a revision of The Bow of Destiny to send to my editor as well as other details toward publication.

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Deep POV Tips Pt. 5: Eliminate Narrative Distance

Editing for Deep POV

This writing tips series began after I attended a webinar in late July the subject of which was deep third person POV . Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 & Part 4 of this series are available if you want to catch-up on the topic. As promised, here are more tips gleaned from the presentation that you may find helpful as I know they will be for me.

One characteristic of deep POV is the elimination of narrative distance. What does this mean? Simply put, the reader lives with the POV character as the events happen instead of being informed or directed by a narrator. In other words, instead of using a narrative voice with tags that cue the reader on activity and dialogue by the main POVC, the deep POV style lets the reader experience the action with the main POVC.  For example:

Narratvie usage: When the door opened, Martha turned with surprise and said, “Who’s there?”

Deep POV: The door banged open. Martha whirled. “Who’s there?”

Notice the difference? There’s not a tag for Martha’s question. Also the action is ongoing in the second example which is accomplished by the verb usage and dropping unnecessary conditions and descriptions. In so doing, the narrative excess is removed along with the telling and passivity.

In my next post, I’ll focus on another characteristic of deep POV and how it is applied.

Want more pointers? Try these resources for deep POV:

Rivet Your Readers with Deep Point of View by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

Writer’s Guide to Emotion: Fiction Writing Tools by Sherry Soule

Check out Janice Hardy’s Fiction University.

Do you use deep POV? Why or why not? How do you utilize these and other aspects of this technique. I love receiving comments so feel free to leave one via the form. Also, you can receive notifications about this blog by email and even receive coupon to download my award-winning short story for free. Sign-up and download today!

Thanks for stopping by and reading.

P. H. Solomon

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Day 136! ………………How Did We Get Here? (87)

PHS:

While my blog focuses on writing, my subject pales in comparison to this issue. We all need to keep these girls in our thoughts and hope they will be released/rescued soon. Thx to jinlobify for keeping this serious issue in the forefront through this blog!

Originally posted on jinlobify:

It was only yesterday that I was writing about how Boko Haram did not have any plans from the onset about what to do with their victories, and how their sponsors only unleashed them to disorganize and disrupt the government of President Jonathan. This notion is beginning to gain more grounds than their attempt to copy ISIS. Not only were they not supposed to do more than just performing acts of rascality, and irresponsibility, they were not even supposed to do anything close to beheading, mass killings, and wiping out of villages and towns, a reckless band of murderers and destroyers of properties.

I was reading an interview this morning between two American journalists, one on the ground in northern Nigeria, and the other somewhere out there. Not only did they report that Boko Haram is emptying towns and taking them over, but the abducted girls, who have been sighted…

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What is Needed Part 6

Photo used in The Bow of Destiny book trailer

Author’s Note: This is the conclusion of Part 2 of the prequel blog serial entitled “What is Needed”. Click on these links to read Part 1, Part 2 (first section), Part 2 (Conclusion), Part 3, Part 4 and Part 5. This series is a companion to The Bow of Destiny (Part 1 of The Bow of Hart Saga) as expanded writing samples for the current Indiegogo campaign for the novel. The events of the blog series pre-date those of The Bow of Destiny by several hundred years but include several long-lived characters who appear in the forthcoming novel. Please read this post and consider supporting the fundraiser. To learn more about The Bow of Destiny campaign click the provided link. This material is copyrighted and not intended for reproduction except at the author’s consent.

What is Needed (Part 6)

by P. H. Solomon

Troll-wolves howled and Hastra slipped into the shade between trees with Zelma and Howart. If only we can avoid the pursuit one last time. The Tower’s just ahead if I remember correctly. She pinched her lower lip and peek along the old road they followed.

The sun dangled between corona-rimmed clouds and the snow-capped peaks of the Grey Spires. Sunshine bathed the path ahead of the three furtive shapes with golden light.

Zelma’s breath puffed mist. “Is it still clear?”

Howart loomed in the shadow of the trees. “They aren’t as close as yesterday.”

“They make enough noise to scare everything for miles. But I don’t see any scouts so let’s go.” Hastra eased out of hiding onto the overgrown road and her two companions followed.

Her stomach rumbled but Hastra dared not call for a halt so she ate bread from her bag. Two weeks and the food’s still good though this is hard now. She kicked a root and stumbled but Zelma steadied her.

At the head of the long rise Hastra spied the pile of weathered stone named the Old Tower. Where Withlings used to go to see and hear instruction or speak rituals. Now it’s the dead end of the trap Kregen sprung on us. They staggered over the path against wind that snapped and swirled across the end of the headland that thrust into the booming sea.

Horns and Troll-wolves howled. Much closer now. “We must hurry now, sister.”

Zelma walked on with eyes wide and shivering.

Hastra brushed hair from her face. Is she cold or afraid? The edifice loomed out of the gloom of dusk in the east. Distant lightning flashed across the Bay of Storms from the east and lit the roofless tower-top. It defies wind and weather. Gusts tugged at the low scrub-trees scattered around its feet. This isolated end of nowhere may be the end of us. If only Eloch…

The travelers hurried into the shadow of the Old Tower and took refuge from the blasts in a shallow alcove. Snippets of howling and horns broke through the roar of wind. They’re coming now. There’s no escape. Hastra hugged herself but still shivered. “Now what?”

“I don’t know except go up.” Howart steadied himself with a trembling hand on the stone. He leaned against the wall, slid into a crouch and laid his head on scratched arms folded over his knees. A ragged sigh escaped from his thin lips. “Just need to rest a while.”

Hastra peered along the road. We’re all spent and bound to die. She touched the death wound from which she’d risen. “What is needed is given.”

Horn blasts floated on the wind. Zelma’s lips quivered and dark circles ringed her eyes above pale skin. Her hair reached from beneath her gray hood. “They’re coming now.”

Hastra nodded. Even her hair seems faded. “They’ve found our scent. We can’t stay here long. If we are needed atop the tower then let’s climb.”

Soft sobs escaped from Zelma. “Then what?”

Hastra embraced her sister. “We’ll pray, Zelma. All will be well in the end. We’re here for a reason just because we’re still breathing when we should be weeks dead.”

Zelma forced a thin smile through her tears. “It will never be the same as it was, but perhaps we see better atop the tower.”

Hastra stirred. “Trolls are near. It’s time.”

Zelma’s hair fell across her face as she touched Howart’s head. The Grendonese man remained still. “He’s fallen asleep.”

Hastra’s head whipped around at the close sound of horns. Zelma jumped and Howart started.

The gaunt man stood. “We must go and seek Eloch’s guidance.”

They scurried from the alcove and climbed the stairwell that wound around the tower’s girth. Wind flailed the surviving Withlings and the storm thundered in the bay as they fought for each ascending step. They ignored their weariness as horns sounded closer.

Hastra staggered. Surely there’s time for us. She thrust her hands before her and pulled for the next step as rain pattered the stone.

Horns sounded closer along with hounds baying, clear and constant, as the din of pursuit carried over the wind. They grappled their way to the top and knelt with their cloaks twisting in the violent wind.

Snarls announced the arrival of trolls. The troll-wolves howled. Kregen’s voice rose in the wind. “Quickly, take them.”

Hastra raised her eyebrows to Howart and Zelma. There’s fear on their faces. If only we can meditate in all this. “Pretend it’s the Hall of Silence.”

Hastra shut her eyes and raised her hands. What is needed is given and I need focus. She ignored the troll boots clamoring on the steps. She breathed and reached for practiced calm. Move in me, O Eloch. She exhaled. Welcome warmth bloomed at the edge of her awareness and she waited rather than reached for it in conscious thought. Warmth swallowed her fear and grief.

Hastra’s eyes blinked open and shut as her usual trembling at the presence of Eloch took hold. Her arms shook and her body quaked. Zelma and Howart undulated like grass in the wind in Hastra’s brief glimpses.

The clouds spun into a whirlwind that detached from main storm and churned toward the tower. Hastra closed her eyes. Calm as a sleeping babe. Indecipherable words erupted from her mouth.

The wind rumbled and drowned the clamor of troll horns and hounds. Hastra’s body stilled with the wind and her eyes opened. Light glowed in the spinning gust. We’re protected from our enemy. Her arms dropped to her sides and then she fell over and stared at the shape moving amid the light and whirlwind.

Beyond the silence with the whirlwind, Kregen cringed at the stairwell. He stretched out his arms and shouted unheard words. He shook his fist with a grimace and fled.

“You have come as children in need. Will you serve on?” The voice suffused Hastra with the rich whisper of peace and inexorable power.

Kregen’s offer rose with the flash of the knife. Hastra smiled as tears spilled from her eyes. “I will serve.” Zelma and Howart answered the same.

“Zelma Vorcinni, should you choose to follow, to you shall be given the task of protecting for long years that which shall come to you in time. You shall want for nothing, not even companionship in desolate places.”

“Howart Balto, should you choose to follow, to you shall be given the task of hiding against chaos what shall come to you after a while. No power of time or change shall pierce the bulwark about you in the midst of confusion.”

“Hastra Vorcinni, should you choose to go, to you shall be given the task of labor against innumerable foes, yet you shall find rest and plenty in the midst of want and danger.”

“And now, my children reach to me if you will come and be comforted and healed…”

At Eloch’s urging, the three Withlings stretched out their hands as one.

The whirlwind fell away.

Hastra rose on one elbow amid a grass covered field at dusk. “Zelma? Howart?” She sat alone with her bag that held her food and the Book of Prophecies.

End of Part 6

Comments are welcome so please leave them below. See my Contact page for information on how to connect with me or follow the blog by email. Visit my Indiegogo campaign for more information and help support the novel’s publication. The campaign ends tonight!

Thanks for reading!

PHS

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What is Needed, Part 5

Photo used in The Bow of Destiny book trailer

Author’s Note: This is the conclusion of Part 2 of the prequel blog serial entitled “What is Needed”. Click on these links to read Part 1, Part 2 (first section), Part 2 (Conclusion), Part 3 and Part 4 This series is a companion to The Bow of Destiny (Part 1 of The Bow of Hart Saga) as expanded writing samples for the current Indiegogo campaign for the novel. The events of the blog series pre-date those of The Bow of Destiny by several hundred years but include several long-lived characters who appear in the forthcoming novel. Please read this post and consider supporting the fundraiser. To learn more about The Bow of Destiny campaign click the provided link. This material is copyrighted and not intended for reproduction except at the author’s consent.

 

What is Needed (Part 5)

by P. H. Solomon

Their chains clanked and scraped the stone floor as the three of them moved.

Zelma’s resolve slipped into weeping while she clung to Hastra’s hand. “How are we alive?”

“I don’t know.” Hastra touched her blood-stained dress and the hole where the Kregen stabbed her. She ran her finger along the line of her mortal wound but found no blood. Best not probe that further. She withdrew her hand and squeezed Zelma’s with the other.

Howart cleared throat. “It’s the prophecy. We live because of it.”

“Why not the others then?” Hastra chewed her lower lip.

Beyond Zelma, Howart’s chains rattled. “What is needed is given.”

Hastra mumbled the response with Zelma. “But what has been given besides life? We are chained in darkness and useless here.”

“We must wait and see.”

“Perhaps.” He’s got a better grasp of this than me. We may be waiting for the rats to chew us to the bone. She shuddered. Does my heart beat? Will I live through the pain of rat bites? She squeezed Zelma’s hand again. Better not mention that to her.

As the time passed, Hastra dozed several times and lost track of time. Once she awoke to rat’s fur brushing her ankle. She kicked with both feet. The rat squealed and it pattered away.

Zelma gasped at Hastra’s commotion. “What’s that?”

“Nothing, just woke from a dream.”

“I heard something running on the floor.”

Hastra jumped as Howart’s deeper voice boomed in the silence. “There are rats in here.”

Zelma’s chains rattled as she pulled her feet closer.

After that Hastra sat awake and waited for the rat to return. Teeth gnawed on boards in the darkness and matched her hunger pangs. At least, I still get hungry. She rubbed her raw wound inside her dress. Better than the alternative.

Later, the door’s lock snicked open and woke Hastra. Light shined around the edges of the door. They’ve brought us food or come to drag us before Kregen again. Wait, that’s no flickering torch. Her leg-irons scraped on the floor when she stirred and a rat squealed as it scrabbled away.

Howart and Zelma woke with groans as the door opened. Hastra squinted at the glow and her eyes watered. A figure in shadow stepped into the doorway. Her chains clicked and fell open. She gasped as the figure with the wide-brimmed hat waved them to the door.

Zelma leaned close grasped Hastra’s arm. “What’s going on? Who’s that?”

Hastra patted her sister’s trembling hand and opened her mouth to speak. The hat – he’s the one who healed me. “I think we should follow.”

Howart kicked his chains away. “Who is it? Why should we follow.”

“First, he’s got a light. Second, he let us loose and third, he healed my leg several months ago.” Hastra struggled to her feet and her knees wobbled.

The stranger moved into the passage beyond the room and the light faded as he walked away.

Howart stumbled to the door. “Hurry, he’s leaving.”

Hastra and Zelma leaned against each other and followed. They stepped into the hall as their rescuer turned a far corner. The three Withlings hobbled after the light past broken doors and intersecting passages that stretched into brooding darkness.

They arrived at the stairwell out of the lower cellar and Howart paused. “This isn’t the way out. It’s back up to Kregen and trolls. Should we risk it?”

Zelma climbed a few steps before she turned back. “Maybe they are gone and this man came to free us.”

Hastra followed her sister. “Stay in the dark but I think we have no other choice.”

They gained the upper cellar and drew near the stair to the keep when the noise of trolls echoed from above them.

Howart stretched his thin arm in the sisters way. “Still here. Where’s he leading us, back to them?”

The man’s light faded and then grew brighter. He waved to them. “Come, it’s safe. There’s food for you.”

Hastra shrugged to Howart and pushed past his out-flung arm. “Think how he set us free without keys. I’m following him. Anyway, he says there’s food.”

Hastra scurried on the stair and the other’s feet scuffed on the stone behind her. We need the food soon. I’m going to faint without it. She touched the rent in her dress where Kregen’s knife-blade killed her. There’s too many miracles in this since that moment.

The Withlings gained the main level the hustled after the man in the wide-brimmed hat. Lumps lay in the shadows of the unlit main hall.

Hastra’s gaze touched the hand at the moment Zelma gasped and wept. They’re dead, all the Withlings are dead. Fixed stares greeted Hastra wherever she whirled.

Zelma covered her mouth with her hands. Howart gaped and his eyes bulged from their deep hollows. They wound through the hacked bodies until they stood by the door to the dining hall where trolls hooted and snarled.

Their rescuer waved his arm into the room. “Eat, take what you need. When you finish I will show you out.”

Hastra whispered in spite of the din from the trolls. “But we’ll be seen. They’ll kill us.”

The man in the hat pointed to a table where no trolls sat. “I have everything you need prepared. Go on.”

She glanced at her companions and their doubtful expressions. He set us free without keys. Hastra peeked into the dining hall. The trolls fought and laughed, their tusks and fangs flashed in the light. I’ll run if they notice me. She sighed and stepped through the doorway.

The trolls never noticed her. Hastra lowered her head and scurried toward the table laden with food. Around her trolls howled their vile glee but none of them even glanced her way.

At the table Hastra snatched food without thinking and shoved it in her mouth. She chewed and groaned. Howart and Zelma soon joined her and they ate their fill. Howart found sacks into which they shoved the excess for provisions. They returned to the doorway and the man in the hat.

“Follow me.”

Hastra bent and cocked her head as their rescuer strode past her. I never can quite see his face. She hefted her bag and walked behind the sight of his brown coat and hat.

The man in the hat led them to the chapel. Benches and chairs lay overturned and they picked their way through the ruined room.

Their rescuer kicked a pile of broken wood and pointed to a leather-bound book lying spine up and open. He cocked his head to Hastra. “You must take this burden. Write the prophecy in it and all your visions.”

Hastra stumbled through the refuse, knelt and gathered the book to her breast. She blinked tears and nodded. I know him know. She wiped her sorrow from her cheeks.

“Time to leave.” The man in the hat left the chapel and the three surviving Withlings trailed after him.

They followed out the front door but turned to a postern gate down the wall.

Hastra blinked under the gray sky and the brushed her hair across her face. Clean air. She sucked in a long breath. At the gate Hastra paused with her companions.

The man in the hat pushed the gate open. “Go to the old tower if you still serve as Withlings.”

They shuffled out the gate. Here the chill wind snapped their tattered cloaks and bit their faces. Hastra hobbled on the narrow trail beyond the walls of Withling’s Watch.

Zelma’s voice rang in the gusts. “He’s gone. Who was he?”

Hastra cocked her head at the gate and motioned to her sister and Howart. “Come, we’ve a mission to fulfill now. Maybe we’ll see him again.” It’s just us now. “What is needed is given.”

End of Part 4 (Part 5 will be posted on 9/2)

Comments are welcome so please leave them below. See my Contact page for information on how to connect with me or follow the blog by email. Visit my Indiegogo campaign for more information and help support the novel’s publication.

Thanks for reading!

PHS

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RRBC Book Blog Tour: When Darkness Breaks

Join me in celebrating Traci Sanders latest book release When Darkness Breaks as part of a week-long blog tour via Rave Reviews Book Club. Take it away Traci!

My first love in writing was poetry and songs, which is basically the same thing to me.  Songs are poetry set to music.  Words and music have power.  I learned this at a very young age as well.  I loved listening to music as a child, but my favorite part was always the lyrics.  Most of my friends just liked the beat, but I wanted to hear the story being told inside.  If a song didn’t tell a good story, it didn’t speak to me.  I am still that way in the music I choose to listen to.  I try to teach my children this same value, but it doesn’t always register.

 

New Release: When Darkness Breaks

“When Darkness Breaks”

Local news anchor, Amber Woods, seemed to have it all – a thriving career, two beautiful children, and a doting husband named Drake. Life was perfect…until her world was turned upside down in one fateful night. While the incident causes Amber to renew her priorities; unable to deal with what happened, Drake begins sinking into a deep depression laced with infidelity and alcohol. Hoping a change of scenery will salvage her quickly deteriorating marriage, Amber agrees that a move to New York may be just what they need. Unfortunately, she quickly discovers that you can’t outrun your problems and the past is not always left in the past. Can Amber save her marriage without losing herself along the way? What will she do when darkness breaks her will to keep trying?

 

www.amazon.com/dp/B00MONNXSC

 

 

About the Author

 

Traci Sanders, author of When Darkness Breaks

Author and mother of three, Traci Sanders has been composing poetry, songs, and children’s stories since the young age of ten. In 2003, she opened her home to young children in her community offering “beyond the basics” teachings. In 2008, she was recognized by the Child Care Resource and Referral Agency as Family Childcare Provider of the Year and was featured in two local newspapers. In 2010, she furthered her education by earning her Child Development Associates degree and was a recipient of the FIRST (First Incentive for Raising Standards among Teachers) Award presented by the Child Care Commissioner of her state. She continues to shape the young minds of the future through her home-based childcare program. Her daily interactions with these children provide constant inspiration for her writing and she plans to continue on this path until her story has reached “The End.”

Her first book was published in January 2013 titled Welcome to Poop Camp “The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing but the Truth about Potty Training.” She released her first children’s book about family child care in May 2013.  To date, she has published five books including her first novella When Darkness Breaks.

 

Twitter – https://twitter.com/TLCKids4915

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/TLCKidsPublishing

Website – http://www.tlckidspublishing.com/

As usual comments are welcome via the form below. Please support Traci with by sharing on social media as well as purchasing and reviewing her book.

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Filed under: Blog Tour, Fiction, Indie Publishing, Marketing, Rave Review Book Club, Self-publishing, Social Media, Twitter, When Darkness Breaks, Writing Tagged: Announcement, Author Traci Sanders, Fiction, Indie Publishing, Launch, Marketing, Rave Reviews Book Club, Social Media, Twitter, When Darkness Breaks, writing

What is Needed Pt. 4

Photo used in The Bow of Destiny book trailer

Author’s Note: This is the conclusion of Part 2 of the prequel blog serial entitled “What is Needed”. Click on these links to read Part 1, Part 2 (first section), Part 2 (Conclusion) and Part 3. This series is a companion to The Bow of Destiny (Part 1 of The Bow of Hart Saga) as expanded writing samples for the current Indiegogo campaign for the novel. The events of the blog series pre-date those of The Bow of Destiny by several hundred years but include several long-lived characters who appear in the forthcoming novel. Please read this post and consider supporting the fundraiser. To learn more about The Bow of Destiny campaign click the provided link. This material is copyrighted and not intended for reproduction except at the author’s consent.

 

What is Needed (Part 4)

by P. H. Solomon

The hobgoblin’s needle-like fangs flashed yellow in torchlight. The blade pressed against Hastra’s throat. Kregen ran out of the darkness and flame that night. He is revealed out of darkness in the Hidden Dragon’s flame this night. Her face twitched and she clenched her teeth.

Kregen snapped gutteral words. The trolls snatched their captives’ hands and bound them with leather straps.

Zelma wept. “Kregen how could you?”

Hastra whirled toward the Rokan Withling. “You can stop this even now, Kregen.”

The Rokan’s grin flashed as the torchlight danced across his face. He flicked his wrist and spoke more trollish commands. Trolls cuffed the sisters. Hastra grunted as she fell on her backside. Zelma screamed her pain.

Hastra blinked and shook her head.

“No! Leave them alone!” Howart shouldered the trolls away even with bound hands.

A bugbear roared spittle into the gaunt Withling’s face and snatched his shirt. The bugbear punched Howart on the jaw with a fist like a mallet. Blood and a tooth flew flew out of Howart’s mouth. The troll bared short tusks and gut-punched the Withling. He grunted and doubled over. The others Withlings cowered.

“Enough of this.” Kregen rasied a hand and the beatings stopped. “Now you’ll follow along without a word. Time is short.” Their betrayer strode out the door. The trolls pushed and dragged their ten captives in Kregen’s path.

Hastra’s mouth pulsed pain as blood dribbled to her chin. I still have my teeth. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve but grimaced all the more even with the pain. Her hand trembled with prickling pain. They’ve lashed them so tight I’m losing feeling. She wiggled her fingers and groaned.

The trolls herded the captives out of the cellar complex. They shoved Hastra and her fellow captives or snarled if the Withlings dawdled. Vile creatures. If only Eloch revealed his wishes. No unction bloomed in Hastra. The lack is disquieting.

They entered the great hall where the remaining Withlings milled with more trolls on guard who brandished a variety of weapons. Kregen’s escort shoved Hastra and her band among the crowd. She dabbed her lip on her sleeve. Too many of these weapons are blood-covered. Tears distorted Hastra’s eyes. More of us are bruised and wounded. Where is Eloch? She wiped her cheeks on her sleeves.

Kregen strolled in front of the crowd. Zeld stood back with the three sisters from North Grendon.

Hastra’s eyes narrowed. Zeld I see aiding his brother but those three? She nudged Zelma. “Who are those sisters?”

Zelma shifted her gaze from Hastra’s pointed finger to the three women and then gasped. “Not the Beleesh sisters too!”

A hobgoblin snarled and prodded at Zelma with a spear. She and several other Withlings backed away in silence.

Kregen whipped a curved dagger from his side and brandished it over his head. Murmurs and even weeping fell silent.

“He has a Rokan blood-knife.” Howart’s voice echoed in the hushed hall.

“Yes, it is a blood-knife, cursed to scald the very soul, they say.” Kregen gazed at the blade as a sneer broadened under his hooked nose. “Now listen, Magdronu is magnanimous and has not sent me to kill you all.”

Whispers wove through the crowd of mystics as their fellow Withling spoke the name of the Hidden Dragon.

Kregen lifted his voice. “My master would have followers as he ascends the heavens as he should. He is merciful and will spare you. Only follow. Or…” Kregen brandished the knife.

Silence lingered among the Withlings. Feet shifted and mystics muttered their fear.

Hastra gaped. I can’t believe so many are actually considering this offer. She closed her mouth. Something must be done.

Elder Tokla stepped before Kregen and stood silent. The dwarf’s beard bore crusted blood from a smashed nose.

Kregen’s lip curled on one side as his brows rose. “Well, Chokkran devil, I never expected you to turn but I’ll take your oath and you can spread the Holy Dragon’s word among your puny kin and nations.”

“Who has succored you, traitor?” The dwarf’s voice rumbled like falling rocks.

A sweet smell filled Hastra’s nose and tension eased from her throat. The rustle of exhaled breath whispered through the crowd. He spoke prophecy. Let’s see what happens now. Hastra edged forward through the mystics while her sister and Howart shuffling behind her.

Kregen laughed. “Magdronu has taken care of me for years, Elder. But I’m no traitor. Here’s what was promised though.” The Rokan bent, stabbed Tokla in the heart and yanked the dagger free.

Gasps shuddered through the Withlings. The dwarf stood a moment, then twisted as his knees buckled and he dropped to the marble floor.

Hastra’s feet stopped and tears welled in her eyes.

Elder Soren of the trading fleets strode to Tokla’s corpse and stood in the pool of blood. Kregen opened his mouth but the wrinkled old man spoke first. “The false one begets betrayers but he shall not have his way.”

Hastra took a step forward again. He continues the prophecy. Her eyebrows arched.

Kregen stabbed the elder in the heart and Soren collapsed beside his old friend. His blood spread on the floor.

Peace stilled Hastra’s racing heart. It’s not my turn yet. She pushed through the frozen mystics. Zelma and Howart shouldered past. Not you as well, my sister.

Elder Margen strolled from the crowd.

Kregen’s blood-drenched grip tightened on the dagger.

The white-haired Shildran’s voice never faltered when she spoke. “The Hidden Dragon may usurp kingdoms with deceits but his ways shall not last and he will not ascend.”

Kregen bared his teeth and shouted. The knife smashed into Margen and she fell beside her fellow elders as more blood puddled the floor. “Any other-.”

Howart exited the crowd and stood close to Kregen with his hands still bound. “A bow shall be made in defense.”

The blade plunged into Howart. The gaunt Withling folded and fell on his back when the Rokan betrayer ripped the daggar free.

Tears spilled from Hastra’s eyes as Zelma squirmed from the crowd.

Zelma’s voice rang high with a note of defiance. “To break the binding curses.”

Hastra closed her eyes as Kregen stabbed her sister. Calm slowed her racing heart. Mine is not the last words of this. If only others will finish it. Tears streaked her face. She opened her eyes to Kregen’s grimace. Zelma’s body lay piled at the edge of her sight. “His prey shall be snatched from his fangs.”

The knife smashed into her chest. It seared Hastra’s flesh. Kregen’s glaring face faded to darkness.

She hovered near her body in a gray blur. Pain slid away as colors swirled around her. Calm and joy sustained Hastra as brighter light opened amid the ceiling.

“Any others want to finish that prophecy of Eloch?” Kregen’s voice echoed from her previous existence.

“Will you stay?” A voice whispered loudly.

Movement attracted her attention. Howart twitched, pushed himself into a seated position and the climbed to his feet. The risen Withling pressed closer to Kregen but he shouted when he spoke. “The bow shall be hidden from heart.”

Kregen stabbed the gaunt Withling.

Howart never flinched and did not fall again.

Kregen stabbed again. When nothing happened he stepped back and gaped.

“Will you finish what is started?” The voice thundered gently through Hastra’s essence.

Zelma stirred.

“I will stay with Zelma.” Gray blur enveloped Hastra.

Her sister rose and took Kregen’s knife-hand and pulled the blade into her wound. “The eagle will guide the heir.”

As Zelma stepped back, darkness wrapped around Hastra. Her eyes fluttered and she inhaled. She stood and straightened her skirt. Hastra arched her eyebrows and craned her neck toward the gaping traitor. “The bow will be found at need.”

Silence covered the hall and even the trolls stood frozen on their feet.

Hastra took a breath with Zelma and Howart. The three of them spoke together. “And the arrow shall Eloch prepare.”

Kregen stood unmoving, his gaze shifting between the risen Withlings. His jaw worked and his voice whispered. “I killed you.”

Zeld snarled troll words. Hobgoblins grasped Hastra’s arms and dragged her away with Howart and Zelma.

As the trolls led them back to the cellar complex Hastra wobbled. None of this is real. I was dead. But we ended the prophecy. She touched her chest, found the rent in her flesh and her hand recoiled from it. Not even pain.

Their guards brought shackles after taking them to an empty storeroom, cut away their straps and locked their hands and feet. Their captors exited the room and barred the door but the risen Withlings heard a few growling outside in their crude tongue.

Zelma sighed. “So much just happened but I’m filled with joy even now.”

Hastra stirred. “I’m confused and awed, but yes, there is joy – no exhilaration – as well. We must be needed for something yet.”

Howart chuckled. “What is needed is given.”

End of Part 4 (Part 5 will be posted on 9/2)

Comments are welcome so please leave them below. See my Contact page for information on how to connect with me or follow the blog by email. Visit my Indiegogo campaign for more information and help support the novel’s publication.

Thanks for reading!

PHS

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Deep POV Tips Part 4: Of Sneaks and Shallow POV

Editing for Deep POV

Last month I attended a webinar the subject of which was deep third person POV and I then started this series. Part 1 (including links to other deep POV resources),   Part 2 & Part 3 of this series are available if you want to catch-up on the topic. As promised, here are more tips gleaned from the presentation that you may find helpful as I know they will be for me.

Sam: What are you up to? Sneaking off, are we?

Gollum: Sneaking? Sneaking? Fat Hobbit is always so polite. Smeagol shows them secret ways that nobody else could find, and they say “sneak!” Sneak? Very nice friend. Oh, yes, my precious. Very nice, very nice.

Sam: All right, all right! You just startled me is all. What were you doing?

Gollum: Sneaking.

The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003)

There’s often a sneak creeping through writing that hurts deep POV. It’s pervasive and slowly sucks the life, excitement and tension from a book like Gollum with a filched egg.

Gollum: [singing] The rock and pool, is nice and cool, so juicy sweet. Our only wish,

[he whacks the fish on the rock]

Gollum: to catch a fish,

[another whack]

Gollum: so juicy sweet.

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

Before you know it, the sneak is stealing all the fish in your writing and singing about it while you go blithely along with the story.

Be careful of the sneak! Don’t let him follow you from that log in the river! Beware lest you find your work rife with all kinds of sneaky, thieving, well you know…

So what’s so sneaky in deep POV and how can it be fixed? Prepositions. But not just any old prepositions, just the sneaky ones. Preposition are necessary except for those that express emotion.

Here are some shallow/deep examples our presenter, Delia Latham, used in her presentation, “Demystifying Deep POV”:

Sneaky Prepostion Examples

See the sneaks and how they work little bits of mischief in the narrative? Yet in the deeper examples there’s more lively, creative expression.

Have you got sneaks in your writing? Share how you root them out in by leaving a comment.

Please see my Contact page for ways to connect with me and view my News page for information on my current fundraising campaign for The Bow of Destiny on Indiegogo which ends on 9/5. Also read the companion blog serial for The Bow of Destiny entitled “What is Needed“. New links to reviews for The Black Bag have been post on the Store page so check those out if you are interested in a short fantasy read.

I’m always interested in comments so please feel free to leave them below. Also, remember that followers of this blog via email receive a coupon to download my short ebook, The Black Bag, from Smashwords so sign-up today.

Thanks for reading!

PHS

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The Worst Advice On Prologues

PHS:

Sage advice regarding prologues. I’ve never thought the prologue was the author’s best writing but only something that primes the pump. Most prologues can be integrated into the story piecemeal.

Originally posted on Photocosm - A World of Light:

Prologues:

Some people love them. Some people hate prologues. Some skip them. Agents don’t like them, apparently.

Personally, I don’t like prologues that have only tangential relevance to the story, and I don’t like infodumps. Some people love a good six page history lesson. Some people might love tangential prologues too, though I have never come across anyone who publicly stated it.

If a prologue is interesting and relevant, I have absolutely no problem with it. I have even written one or two.

This post is not really about the virtue of prologues. It is about the lack of virtue of a certain piece of advice related to them. It runs something like this:

A writer walks into a bar and says to the barman, “I want to keep my book’s prologue but, if I do, my book will never get an agent. Prologues have gone out of fashion like the letter thorn.”

The barman scratches his head…

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What is Needed Pt. 3

Photo used in The Bow of Destiny book trailer

Author’s Note: This is the conclusion of Part 2 of the prequel blog serial entitled “What is Needed”. Click on these links to read Part 1, Part 2 (first section) and Part 2 (Conclusion). This series is a companion to The Bow of Destiny (Part 1 of The Bow of Hart Saga) as expanded writing samples for the current Indiegogo campaign for the novel. The events of the blog series pre-date those of The Bow of Destiny by several hundred years but include several long-lived characters who appear in the forthcoming novel. Please read this post and consider supporting the fundraiser. To learn more about The Bow of Destiny campaign click the provided link. This material is copyrighted and not intended for reproduction except at the author’s consent.

 

What is Needed (Part 3)

by P. H. Solomon

The bell clanged and jolted Hastra from sleep. Screams, shouts and snarls echoed from the lower levels. It’s a dream like the others. She clutched her blanket at her chin and waited.

Light flared as Zelma lit a candle that illuminated her wide-eyed face and disheveled shocks of flame-red hair. “Is that what you heard in the first vision?”

Hastra groaned. It’s come, no it’s been here all along. She swung her bare feet on the frigid floor. “Get dressed in something warm. The snow’s melted but nights are still cold.”

Zelma’s mouth remained open as she twisted in her bed with a nod.

Hastra swirled into a dress and sat on her bed while she tugged wool stockings on her feet. “Shh.” She waved a hand and they sat silent while ominous sounds rose and fell beyond their door. “Put that candle out, someone’s coming.” She snatched her walking stick, hoisted it at her shoulder and stood by the door.

Quick footsteps stopped at their door and it opened. Lamp-light grew and Hastra withheld her swing at the sight of Howart’s gaunt face. His eyes blinked in the shadow of their deep hollows.

The tall Withling swung the lamp in the room. “Come with me. I’ve expected this and made preparations in the cellars if we can get there. I’ll get anyone else nearby while you finish here but hurry. No shoes from here, they echo.” Howart paused for spare moments, pulled shoes off his feet and then went tapping on nearby doors.

Zelma lit the candle again.

“Don’t bother with that, sister, we can see enough to gather what we need.”

“I’ll leave it lit when we leave so they’ll have to search the rooms.”

Hastra nodded and grabbed their winter cloaks as Zelma finished with her stockings. They left with their shoes in hand and found others gathering with Howart in the passage. Just ten of us? So few. Hastra pushed hair out of her face. Better than none.

Light flickered in the near stairwell.

Howart shuttered his lamp and lowered his voice. “This way to the cellars. Run!”

The knot of Withlings scurried along the hall. Their legs pumped as they navigated the far stairwell in near darkness. They reached a landing and crowded out of sight. Pig-faced bugbears smashed through barred doors at the far length of the lowest apartment level. Crashes and growls sounded from the level above them.

Howart pulled his hood onto his head and he murmured into their knot. “Follow me. Stay in the shadows. We can’t wait or they will catch us here.” The skinny Withling pressed against the stone wall and slipped into the deeper darkness gathered below them while he held the shuttered lamp away from the wall.

The others took their turns as the trolls ravaged rooms and drug out other screaming Withlings.

Hastra pulled on her hood. Go, don’t think. She held her breath and crossed in the shadows. Ignore them and go. Tears pooled in her eyes at the flash of movement and the sight of blood as one bugbear stabbed feeble Durna. So kind, now gone. Hastra rubbed her damp cheeks.

They plunged into the darkness of the upper cellars.

Hastra inhaled the pungent mustiness as they descended. She winced at the destructive clamor and she blinked back tears for lost friends. Why couldn’t I find our betrayers sooner. She bumped into someone with a grunt as they halted in the cellar passage. “Sorry.”

Dim light glowed on Howart’s face and everyone crowded close at his whispers. “I’ll chance a little light here. I’m not as familiar with this area. We need to go to into the lower cellars. Put on your shoes.”

Hastra slipped on her shoes and pushed closer to the skeletal Withling. “Those cellars aren’t used anymore. It’s dangerous with rats and decay.”

“I’ve been preparing for this. I’ve mapped a way out from there.”

Tenelle, the pudgy Shildran woman from the end of Hastra’s hall frowned. “Preparing? You’ve known about this and told no one?”

“We’ve only suspected based on visions Hastra had all winter without instructions from Eloch.”

Faces turned to Hastra. Their confused and angry with me. Torchlight flickered above and the sound of chaos rose.

“We’ve no time to discuss this. Follow me or perish.” Howart trotted away and passed closed doors to storage rooms.

Hastra hurried after Howart with the others but endured uncertain murmurs until Howart shushed them. They think I’m to blame. Maybe I should have spoken out. Crashes echoed from the dark passage behind her. It wouldn’t have made a difference.

Howart led them through several turns until they reached a stairwell to the lower cellars. Their leader huffed with sweat beaded on his brow. “I’ve hidden a few supplies below that may help us. This is a maze and I don’t know my way well at all.”

Water dripped in places and the worn stair slowed them. Hastra held her skirt high and felt for each step with her foot. Dust tickled her nose and she covered her lower face with her sleeved arm while stifling a sneeze. If the trolls don’t get us the foul air will. She exhaled, gasped for air and held it. What’s rotted down here?

They gained the lower cellar level and kicked up more dust. Howart risked more light.

Grit on the stone floor scraped under their feet. There’s Howart’s footprints from his earlier forays. Where’s he leading us? Their guide turned several times and Hastra lost her sense of direction. She pulled her skirt higher as she traipsed through a shallow pool of discolored water.

Howart opened a door and stepped into a room. Instead of darkness they met light as their knot of Withlings pushed into the room.

Kregen wheeled from shelves packed with supplies. The position of the Rokan’s light cast an odd shadow across half his face. “So you’re the one who left all this here.”

Howart’s voice rose in spite of the danger. “What are you doing here? Weren’t you at the gate? Didn’t you ring the bell? How did you escape the trolls?”

“Zeld had the gate tonight.” Kregen’s thin lips spread into a smile beneath his hooked nose though no friendliness rose in his eyes. “And I didn’t escape the trolls.” He snapped his fingers. Snake-faced hobgoblins and tusked bugbears stepped from behind old crates. Curved blades whispered as the trolls drew their weapons.

Hastra wheeled toward the door. A sword-point rose to her throat. The mirthless grin of a hobgoblin revealed yellowed, broken teeth. They trapped us! She held her breath.

“You see, Withling’s Watch is mine in the name of Magdronu.”

Hastra gasped. The Hidden Dragon has destroyed us. The fetid stench no longer bothered Hastra as their captors snorted and snarled laughter.

End of Part 3 (Part 4 will be posted on 8/24 or after)

Comments are welcome so please leave them below. See my Contact page for information on how to connect with me or follow the blog by email. Visit my Indiegogo campaign for more information and help support the novel’s publication.

Thanks for reading!

PHS

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