Gillian Bronte Adams's Blog, page 4

Pros and Cons of Traveling to Fantasy Worlds

I’m pretty sure we all have that one (at least one) fantasy world that we would love to travel to, if only … (FILL IN THE BLANK) …

Why sure, I’d love to travel to Florin and Gildor (Princess Bride), if only the ROUS didn’t exist. *shiver*

Or, why not swing over to Narnia, if only there wasn’t the chance that you would grow up there and then have to turn back to your previous age when you went back to our world? (Seriously … can you imagine growing up once in Narnia—AWESOME—and then having to do it all over again in our world, where a) you aren’t a king or queen and b) you have to go back to boarding school after ruling a country and leading armies in battle! Whew. Talk about tough!)

For some people, this might be the villain. “I’d love to travel to Hogwarts but only after Voldemort has been defeated.” (Harry Potter) Or “Panem … but only if I was assured protection from the Reaping. Or only if Snow and Coin and all the rest of them were gone.” (Hunger Games) Yeah … I still don’t know about that one.

But for me, I find that my one hang-up typically isn’t related to the villain. I know, I know, that probably sounds completely and totally nuts! After all, who wouldn’t want to get the villain out of the story before you hop into it? Do you really want to have to fight the Fangs of Dang (Wingfeather Saga) or spend your time dodging the Steel Inquisitors (Mistborn series)?

Well, not exactly. But I do think that the author part of me recognizes how the villains and the challenging, sometimes earth-breaking, events they cause do shape our favorite characters and their worlds. Before his adventure in The Hobbit, Bilbo had spent most of his life stifling his Tookish side, the part of him that was attracted to wonder and longed for adventure.

Afterwards, well, he was a much more interesting fellow. If I could travel to a fantasy world, I would want to join the heroes in the fight … not hear stories about it afterward.

For the longest time, Middle Earth has been that place for me. (Now closely followed by the world of Roshar from the Stormlight Archive, because that series is incredibly epic, and if you haven’t read it yet, you should!) But while I dreamed of wandering the northlands with the Dunedain Rangers, or patrolling the rolling hills of Edoras with the Rohirrim, or strolling through leaf-strewn paths in the spring of glorious Lothlorien, there was one minor hang-up …

Okay, let’s be honest, it was a MAJOR hang-up.

Coffee.

Yes. It’s true. I would have a hard time embracing the beauties of Middle Earth for love of coffee. (Don’t judge now. Bilbo loved his pocket handkerchiefs. I love my coffee.) But while visiting family, I recently started reading The Hobbit aloud to my little sister. It’s actually been a few years since I sat down and read it all the way through.

And I made the most incredible discovery!

“Some called for ale, some for porter, and one for coffee, and all of them for cakes; so the hobbit was kept very busy for a while. A big jug of coffee had just been set in the hearth, the seed-cakes were gone, and the dwarves were starting on a round of buttered scones, when there came—a loud knock.”

– The Hobbit

Folks, we are saved, there is coffee in Middle Earth!

Done. Sold. When can I pack up and move there?

How about you? What fantasy world would you love to go to, and what one hang-up—minor, or major, like coffee—would make you pause before leaping into the portal to get there?

And if you enjoy this post and want to make sure you don’t miss another, you can scroll to the bottom of this page and subscribe to magically receive posts in your inbox!

Meet the Cast of Children of the Forgotten: Guest Post by Charles Franklin

I’ve got exciting news for you guys today! It’s release day for Children of the Forgotten: Book One of the Anistemi by Charles Franklin! I had the chance to read an advanced reader copy of this book, and guys, I am so excited that it is now available for you all to read also, so I invited Charles to join us here today and introduce us to a few of the main characters in his story. (You all know I love characters …)

So welcome, Charles! Glad you could be here!

Hey everyone! It’s an honor to be here, so I would first like to thank Gillian for the opportunity to guest post about my novel, Children of the Forgotten: Book One of the Anistemi. I am excited to finally get it out there and into the hands of readers!

Today I want to share with you a bit about some of the main characters, who were such a joy to write. But, before I do that, Here’s a little about the story:

Children of the Forgotten: Book One of the Anistemi

by Charles Franklin

In a post-apocalyptic world, most people by age thirty have succumbed to the Sickness, a mysterious deadly illness. But the Sickness is not the only enemy for Collin Mann’s city. Hordes of deranged killers live in the hills around it. With few trained protectors, the future of the little city looks bleak. 

Collin, fifteen years old, buries those the Sickness consumes. Slight and awkward, he shuns warrior training, avoiding the example of his big brother and guardian.

When killers attack at the watering hole, he’s called to step forward and defend. Instead, he freezes. He’s ashamed. His people need him to fight. But can he do it? Or would a clumsy person like himself make any difference in the battle for existence?

FIND THE KINDLE ON AMAZON

FIND THE PAPERBACK ON AMAZON

 

Since he’s the main protagonist, let’s start with Collin Mann:

(You called. Here I come.)

As described in the blurb above, Collin is far from a lionhearted warrior. In fact, there are times that he struggles to find even an ounce of courage when he faces the horrors that prey upon his people. Yet, he is thrown into a war that will determine whether his city will live on or be forgotten like the rest of the fallen world.

When we first meet Collin, he is digging a grave for someone who has died from the Sickness. He dreams of what life might be like outside the seemingly endless barrier of hills that surround his secluded city, but soon buries those dreams too when he realizes he isn’t as brave as the knights who protect him and the rest of the citizens.

As the story unfolds, though, Collin finds something worth fighting for. He learns to put the welfare of others before himself. Along the way, he begins to live some of the dreams that he gave up on and he sees a few glimpses of what is left of the outside world. Who knows, he may even meet a girl!

Collin was a lot of fun to write, and I believe that he has some really touching moments during his growth. I hope you enjoy his story, too!

Next up, Felicia Youngblood:

(My Creator, what do I do?)

When the story begins, Felicia is a young school teacher in her section of the city. Little ones fill her room and learn the basic school subjects, along with a few trades and all that is known about the fall of the world.

Felicia is also single mother to her five-year-old son, Anthony. She struggles to keep up with him as he is always dashing off to adventure, causing Felicia to question her abilities as a mother. To make matters worse, she must also do everything she can to keep others from learning of Anthony’s secrets.

When she is called to step forward and help lead her people, Felicia is pulled from a life of comfort in the classroom and thrown into a seat where her every move is questioned. As the threat from the evil savages in the hills grows, she relies on the aid of a few close friends and her faith in The Creator as she readies her city for invasion.

Felicia was probably the toughest character for me to write. I wanted her to be a strong female character, but not in a physical sense. The goal was for her power to come from her faith and love for her people. Because of this, I found myself making her a little too perfect! So I had to go back several times and give her more struggle. I hope she forgives me!

And Finally… Bliss Li:

(I grow tired of your king.)

It’s a little odd how Bliss came to be in the novel. I was writing a scene where Collin is observing the goings on in the city, and as he scans things in front of him, Bliss appeared. I didn’t plan it, and had no idea who she was or what she would bring to the story, but I ran with it! And Bliss didn’t disappoint.

Where I gave Felicia more of a spiritual strength, Bliss got all of the toughness. She is tough, gritty, and…angry! Her dark past—most of which is a blur—drives her into what is an obsessive search for one thing: vengeance.

There are times in the story where all seems lost and most of the fight is gone from the citizens of the small city. This is not true with Bliss. Her fight is never gone, and the enemy often gets a quick taste of it just before she makes them an afterthought.

It was a lot of fun to write Bliss! There is so much conflict inside and around her that there is never a moment that is lacking. She has just enough sass to outshine the shadows she rose from, and when things get tough during the story, I think we will all feel a little bit better knowing that she is there!

So there you have it! The list could go on, but these are the three characters I am most excited for you to meet. I love their diversity, but also the potential for them to come together for a common cause. I hope you enjoyed learning about them and would love it if you followed their journey!

Thanks again for having me!

Blessings!

Charles

Thanks, Charles for stopping by! You guys can find Charles on his website, Facebook page, Twitter, and Goodreads.

You can also watch this awesome book trailer!

Now, it’s your turn! Let’s chat in the comments:

Which of these three characters would you like to read about most?
Have you pre-ordered a copy of Children of the Forgotten?
Can you imagine living in a world where the oldest people are thirty? How would having such a short life expectancy affect how you lived?

Explore Leira: “Fool’s Dice” – An Amos and Balaam Bonus Short just for you!

What better way to start off a Friday morning in November – when the air has finally begun to crisp, Stranger Things fans wallow in the throes of post-season-2 withdrawals, novelists voluntarily submit to the tear-inducing trials of a month long writing marathon, and the sudden arrival of Christmas music sparks equal and opposite reactions of joy and consternation – than with a story?

(Side note: listening to Christmas music makes me happy any time of the year. Yes, I am one of those people.)

So here you have it my friends, a bonus snippet clipped from the world of the Songkeeper Chronicles, painstakingly saved, and revealed here for the first time … ever … in the history of the world … of Leira, that is …

Just for you.

Why? Because the following four things are true:

1) It’s been far too long since we’ve been able to enjoy a scene with dear old Amos. Okay, so it’s been the same amount of time since we’ve gotten to enjoy a scene with Birdie or Ky, but according to his fans – um, you guys – the ending to Book Two left some questions about Amos’s fate, and you feel you’ve been hanging in limbo for too long.

Bad news: still in limbo. Good news: here’s a fun bonus short! Enjoy!

2) Exciting things are coming soon in the world of the Songkeeper Chronicles. (Ahem … book three … and other smaller exciting things that I can’t reveal to you now, but of course I’m hinting at them because I’m a devious author who enjoys tormenting readers I hope to whet your appetite!)

3) This little tale has been gathering dust on the draft board since last year’s #exploreleira blog tour celebrating Songkeeper’s one year book birthday. I planned to share it then as an extra bit of rough story material and it’s been hanging in limbo ever since … somewhat like the aforementioned fans longing for Book Three.

4) The paperback version of Songkeeper is currently on sale on Amazon for only $5.15! This is true in the moment that I am writing these words, but I have no idea how long the sale will last, so if you’ve been waiting to purchase the book, or want to introduce a friend to the story, now’s your chance!

5) And you readers are the best … (I know, I know, four things. I’m such a rebel.)

Background:

When Amos McElhenny first took to the road as a traveling peddler, he did so with little more than an oversized knapsack and tramped his way from town to town, peddling the goods that he carried on his back. From the southern tip to the northernmost mountains, he marched, establishing a route and trade partners, and sampling the brew in every inn he passed.

It was pure happenstance that led him to the donkey, Balaam, and to his friend, Brog. A game of Fools Dice after one too many mugs of brew with a fellow traveling peddler, a reckless wager with a priceless bottle of Vrimgor sap (purchased on the edge of the Vituain Desert), and he walked away with the peddler’s pack of wares, packsaddle, and a large gray donkey to boot.

“Take ’im and good riddance.” The peddler lifted his bleary gaze from his mug and swept an unsteady hand toward the donkey, just visible through the swinging doors of the Whistlin’ Waterfly Tavern. “Laziest beast I ever met.”

Lazy the overgrown beast might be, but when it came to trekking across the whole of Leira carting wares to sell, four hooves had less chance of wearing out than Amos’s own two feet. He was a mite partial to them, not to mention his boots. Both had lasted him a good long while, and if he truly meant to make a go of this peddling business, they would have to last a good while more. With a satisfied sigh—disguised as a cough—he rose and straightened his belt. “Don’t suppose ye’d want t’ play one more round, now would—”

“Get out.”

“A’right, a’right!” Amos dodged the peddler’s wild swing. The man’s fist struck the dice and sent them skipping across the earthen floor. That earned both of them a dirty look from the fair young maid behind the counter, which was a shame because Amos had been trying to catch her smile since he had downed his second mug, much earlier in the evening. He had given up after her scowl had grown more and more pronounced with each consecutive mug. “I’m goin’. I’m goin’. Wheesht, man, ’tis not as if ye owned the place …”

He palmed the vial of Vrimgor sap from the table—his stake in the game, and a reckless one at that, since Vrimgor sap was woefully expensive and accessible only to those brave and foolish enough, or those with friends brave and foolish enough, to attempt crossing the wild expanses of the Vituain Desert—and slipped it into his overcoat pocket. With a grunt, he swept his heavy knapsack out from beneath the table, jostling a neighboring table and earning a stern stare from the Saari trio seated there. He mumbled an apology. Taverns were meant to be pleasant places, weren’t they? Instead, he found himself standing in a room full of guarded expressions and terse, huddled conversations. Bilgewater. Seemed there was no escaping the smog of fear and despair that had descended upon the world in the years since resistance died at the massacre of Drengreth, and hope along with it.

Mouth suddenly gone dry, he swallowed. He had thought to bury such thoughts when he left the caverns of Kerby for the last time, thought to escape it all in the simple life of a peddler, beholden to no man, free to wander whither he willed. If even tiny Hardale had felt the effects … maybe there was no escaping it.

But By Turning, he would do his best.

“Hoi, Amos.” The peddler’s voice recalled him part way through the swinging door. “‘is name’s Balaam.” Bloodshot eyes lifted over the rim of a newly filled mug. The pretty maid stood by his elbow, a jug in her hand. “Don’t you forget it now, you hear? Balaam.”

Amos cast a pitying grin toward the young woman and earned a disapproving glare in return. Apparently his welcome had run out. Again. He hasted toward the door. “Sure, Brog, sure.”

The doors swung shut behind him, and he paused on the stoop to consider his new prize. The donkey lifted his head from a hay bag and stared back, jaw rolling as he chewed. Fool’s Dice was aught but a fair game. A man knew that before he set hand to dice and began to play. The game thrived upon cheating luck. Sometimes you won, sometimes you lost. It was just the way of it. Still … it didn’t set right with him, taking everything from a fellow peddler.

He had been many things in his life—many that he wasn’t proud of—but he had never been a common thief. An uncommon one, sure, guided by principles on who he would steal from and when. Khelari, mainly, anytime and any place. Those who supported them, whenever and wherever it would hurt the most. Rich folk who capitalized on the suffering of others, well, then he liked to time it to make them look the most like fools. But no, he had never been common enough to steal just for the sake of gain, and certainly not from one of his own.

Bilgewater.

Cursing, he undid the straps binding Brog’s packs in place, let them slip to the ground and then shunted them over to the stoop. He was none too careful about it and that assuaged his guilty conscience—because if Amos McElhenny wasn’t a common thief, he also wasn’t a softhearted sap—and then settled his own knapsack in place on the donkey’s back and yanked the lead free. The donkey let out a mournful bray.

“None o’ that now. ‘Tis time t’ move. C’mon.” He tugged the rope. Fool beast didn’t move. “Ye heard me, ye flyswoggled, addle-pated lump o’ charbottle! Let’s move.” Another tug. This time, the beast set his head so hard, Amos nearly jerked his shoulder out of socket. “C’mon. C’mon. C’mon!” Breathing hard, he wheeled around, coming nose to snout with the donkey, and stared into the dark wells of the beast’s eyes.

No malice in those eyes. Just boredom … and was that a hint of laughter he detected in the beast’s quivering muzzle? He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set his teeth. For the first time all evening, he began to wonder if he’d been had.

“Will ye no move on, ye seaswoggled beastie?”

“Balaam.” Brog’s voice cut across his welling wrath. The peddler had an arm slung across one of the swinging doors and was trying—and failing—to hide a grin behind the mug in his hand. His eyes looked considerably less bleary and unfocused than before. “You got to call ‘im Balaam. Talk nice to ‘im too. ‘e likes pleasant talk.”

Fine. “Balaam.” Amos dragged his eyes back to the donkey. “Will ye no move on?” Then gritted out between his teeth, “Please.” Still chewing, the donkey let out a long breath and then shuffled forward, treading on Amos’s foot. The beast’s shoulder knocked against him. Hard. Glass crunched and a damp spot slicked the pocket of his overcoat.

Vrimgor sap.

Hastily, Amos tore off the coat and cast it on the ground. Shards of glass clinked in the pocket. He had been a blame fool not to stow the priceless, dangerous vial more carefully. Now there was a fortune gone, and his overcoat ruined, and—boggswoggle—he’d been fortunate indeed that the glass hadn’t cut him, for one drop of such a concentrated form of that poison in his blood would have left him a dead man.

He rounded on the witless beast. “What was that, ye dawdling great ormahound? Have ye no got eyes in yer head?”

The donkey just blinked at him.

“Remember, Amos,” Brogg called from the doorway. “Pleasant talk!”

“I’ll give ye blatherin’ pleasant talk …” Clenching his teeth on his anger and the pain, Amos snatched up the overcoat and flung it over the donkey’s back. The fool beast twisted his head around to sniff at the damp stain on the pocket. “None o’ that now!” Already the beast had cost him a boggswoggling amount of trouble and coin. No way he would let him die that easily. “No, laddie, ye’re goin’ t’ have t’ work a long time yet.”

Muttering to himself, he swung the lead over his shoulder and marched off into the night. He had ever been a firm believer in the power of confidence, particularly when a man felt a fool. Surprisingly, the donkey toddled after him without a fight.

“So long, Amos!” Brog stepped out onto the tavern stoop, seeming suddenly strangely alert, and waved a cheery farewell with the maid smirking by his side. “Enjoy the stubborn beast! Be sure and stop by the Waterfly to see us next time you’re in town.”

Fool’s Dice, indeed.

“Bloodwuthering bloddknockers!”

Your Turn! Here’s a couple question prompts to start the conversation:

Are you still wallowing in despair after finishing Stranger Things?
Have you started listening to Christmas music yet?
Who would you rather play in a games of Fool’s Dice, Amos or Brog?
And Trivia Question: Any guesses as to where the donkey Balaam gets his name?

Want to find out more about Amos, Brog, and Balaam? Check out the links below to purchase the books:

Amazon: Orphan’s Song, Songkeeper

Barnes and Nobles: Orphan’s Song, Songkeeper

A Beautiful Harmony: Daring to Hope by Katie Davis Majors

I think there are moments in our lives where the threads begin to come together and we get just a glimpse of the tapestry that is being woven behind the scenes. A sense of cohesion. Of harmony. Hutchmoot served as one such moment for me this year. (If you’re not familiar with Hutchmoot, it’s an annual retreat(?) where lovers of the creative arts come together to basically feast upon fellowship, session, music, and creating in community together. I’ve been dreaming of going for the past four years, and this year, I was finally able to attend!) For me, the discussions, conversations, and sweet fellowship all served as variations, as it were, on a theme that the Lord has been planting in my heart for the past several years.

I have also experienced this as I write. It is always somehow awe-inspiring to realize in hindsight that many of the threads of theme and concept that I have pulled upon while writing were linked to passages of Scripture that I found myself reading at the time, songs that I soon found myself listening to, and now, in the case of Daring to Hope, books that I found myself reflecting upon.

Often this revelation is a journey in and of itself, and the realization is slow in the coming. But it is a beautiful thing.

It Started With A Book

Most of the books that I share with you here are, of course, fantasy. Speculative fiction, as you all know, is my first love! But I do a fair amount of non-fiction reading as well and could not keep from sharing this latest read with you.

In March, I picked up Kisses from Katie by Katie Davis Majors (then just Katie Davis), and devoured the book in a single night. In case you aren’t familiar with her story, Katie traveled to Uganda after high school to spend a year teaching. She didn’t know it then, but that year’s commitment would become a life commitment. She founded the Amazima ministry and became mom to thirteen daughters. Hers is an incredible story of obedience and faithfulness and the amazing work that the Lord’s love can accomplish.

That night, I stayed up long after most sane people head to bed, underlining passage after passage as I read, because it felt like the oft complicated workings of my heart had somehow been captured by the pen of another writer. Laid out in clear lines of black and white ink to help me understand. I realized then that the life that Katie had been called to lead was the sort of life that I wanted for myself, a life of love and presence and service.

“When I invite Him into my tiny and ordinary, even mundane moments become extraordinary. Small acts of love become whispers of His glory in the midst of our everydayness.”

– Daring to Hope

So when I had the chance to read an early copy of Katie’s new book Daring to Hope, I eagerly jumped at it. Kisses from Katie had encouraged me in such a profound way. I hoped that Daring to Hope would do the same.

And it did.

Daring to Hope does not shrink away from the hard questions or promise trite (and therefore unhelpful) answers. The stories within are inspiring and encouraging, even when they end in what our human perspective would label tragedy. In these pages, Katie reveals her heart, her wrestling, her doubts, her sorrows, and the incomparable grace of knowing that whatever valleys we walk through, He walks there with us. Before us, behind us, and beside. We are ringed about by His love.

As I read Daring to Hope, those threads that I mentioned earlier blended together. Harmony formed, and a melody began to emerge.

The Melody

Some of you may know that I was in a car accident several years ago where significant portions of the bones in my face and jaw were broken, and some were even shattered. While it could have been far worse than it was, in many ways, it felt like it brought my life to a screeching halt. On the exterior, once the initial round of surgeries were completed, few people could tell that anything was wrong. It is easy to forget that healing is rarely a quick process. And when bones are shattered beneath the skin and the scars are within, it can seem that all is well.

But this event struck deeper than bone, left scars beyond the physical. During the next few years of recovery, I experienced a period where I felt I wandered through a wasteland. Though I knew the Lord’s goodness, though I could speak of His kindness and graciousness toward me, though I had moments of indescribable closeness when my relationship with Him had never seemed deeper, overall, it seemed I stood in a desert.

My throat was parched. My limbs were weak. The wilderness stretched before me, a scorched and dreary place. I was weary, oh so weary of the struggle. Of plodding along through the dust and the heat.

In the desert, I battled guilt. I battled pride, fear, and doubt. I battled a sense of utter worthlessness.

Yet I—a writer—was incapable of putting it in to words.

Or so I thought. Later I realized that I battled in my writing too. Art is often more expressive than we realize. Though my characters have unique personalities and are separate from me, some of the themes and struggles that work their way into the novels are rooted in my own heart. My first novel, Orphan’s Song, was released a few months after my car accident, and so I began to write the second book in the series, Songkeeper, as I pressed on through the uphill struggle of recovery. And if Songkeeper was my soul crying into the darkness for my Father to speak to me as I journeyed through the desert, the third book in the series (releasing for you all to read next spring!) became the answer that was whispered back to me through Scripture, through music, through faithful friends, and those glorious mirrors of truth—books.

Peace. Be still.

Hope gradually filled the quiet moments as I learned to simply be still. To rest in the knowledge that He is God, He is my Father, and I am beloved.

Harmony

In Daring to Hope, Katie shares her own dry and barren season. She speaks honestly of walking through terrible grief and loss and doubt. She compares herself to Jacob wrestling with the Lord, and I cannot help but laugh ruefully and whisper, “Me too.”

“The air feels hot and dry, and so does my spirit. But I feel God’s love so strongly for me here, and I know with all certainty that the long dry season has drawn me to Him in a way that I never could have known apart from it. In the stillness and the quiet, in the suffering, I had fallen in love with Jesus all over again.”

– Daring to Hope

Last spring, I came upon this passage from Isaiah, and it quickly became one of my favorite verses:

“See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. The wild animals honor me, the jackals and the owls, because I provide water in the desert and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my people, my chosen, the people I formed for myself that they may proclaim my praise.”

– Isaiah 43:19-21

As I read this passage, I realized that I did not feel like I had left the desert behind, but somehow He was creating a beautiful place out of what had been barren wilderness. Causing streams to rise. Creating new growth. Renewing. Bringing water from the rock, beauty from the ash heap, and joy out of suffering. And there was a wild and wonderful comfort to be found in that realization, for in order to truly know this truth, I think that it must be experienced.

This truth resounded across the pages of Daring to Hope. It echoed through the life stories and songs and hearts of the fellow sons and daughters that I met at Hutchmoot. And as I continue to watch this beautiful, inescapable harmony of Scripture, writings, songs, and readings forming, I am once again left in awe at the many layers of the stories that the Master Storyteller spins in our lives.

As always, I could type on for hours more, but I will simply leave you with one final beautiful quote and then encourage you all to read the book for yourself! It is well worth the time.

“All our stories and the intricate way they have been woven together whisper of His glory, His wild pursuit of each of us, His unending grace and love and kindness reach to us, saving us, drawing us to Himself. We can only be mended if we have been broken, and so often, it is in the mending that we feel most clearly His tender heart toward us.”

– Daring to Hope

Your turn to share!

Have you seen this “beautiful harmony” of promptings in the way the Lord works on your heart?
Have you read Kisses from Katie or Daring to Hope ? Any favorite quotes to share?
Have you ever wandered through a dry and barren season in your life? Were you able to see the Lord at work through it?

A Beautiful Harmony – Daring to Hope by Katie Davis Majors

I think there are moments in our lives where the threads begin to come together and we get just a glimpse of the tapestry that is being woven behind the scenes. A sense of cohesion. Of harmony. Hutchmoot served as one such moment for me this year. (If you’re not familiar with Hutchmoot, it’s an annual retreat(?) where lovers of the creative arts come together to basically feast upon fellowship, session, music, and creating in community together. I’ve been dreaming of going for the past four years, and this year, I was finally able to attend!) For me, the discussions, conversations, and sweet fellowship all served as variations, as it were, on a theme that the Lord has been planting in my heart for the past several years.

I have also experienced this as I write. It is always somehow awe-inspiring to realize in hindsight that many of the threads of theme and concept that I have pulled upon while writing were linked to passages of Scripture that I found myself reading at the time, songs that I soon found myself listening to, and now, in the case of Daring to Hope, books that I found myself reflecting upon.

Often this revelation is a journey in and of itself, and the realization is slow in the coming. But it is a beautiful thing.

It Started With A Book

Most of the books that I share with you here are, of course, fantasy. Speculative fiction, as you all know, is my first love! But I do a fair amount of non-fiction reading as well and could not keep from sharing this latest read with you.

In March, I picked up Kisses from Katie by Katie Davis Majors (then just Katie Davis), and devoured the book in a single night. In case you aren’t familiar with her story, Katie traveled to Uganda after high school to spend a year teaching. She didn’t know it then, but that year’s commitment would become a life commitment. She founded the Amazima ministry and became mom to thirteen daughters. Hers is an incredible story of obedience and faithfulness and the amazing work that the Lord’s love can accomplish.

That night, I stayed up long after most sane people head to bed, underlining passage after passage as I read, because it felt like the oft complicated workings of my heart had somehow been captured by the pen of another writer. Laid out in clear lines of black and white ink to help me understand. I realized then that the life that Katie had been called to lead was the sort of life that I wanted for myself, a life of love and presence and service.

“When I invite Him into my tiny and ordinary, even mundane moments become extraordinary. Small acts of love become whispers of His glory in the midst of our everydayness.”

– Daring to Hope

So when I had the chance to read an early copy of Katie’s new book Daring to Hope, I eagerly jumped at it. Kisses from Katie had encouraged me in such a profound way. I hoped that Daring to Hope would do the same.

And it did.

Daring to Hope does not shrink away from the hard questions or promise trite (and therefore unhelpful) answers. The stories within are inspiring and encouraging, even when they end in what our human perspective would label tragedy. In these pages, Katie reveals her heart, her wrestling, her doubts, her sorrows, and the incomparable grace of knowing that whatever valleys we walk through, He walks there with us. Before us, behind us, and beside. We are ringed about by His love.

As I read Daring to Hope, those threads that I mentioned earlier blended together. Harmony formed, and a melody began to emerge.

The Melody

Some of you may know that I was in a car accident several years ago where significant portions of the bones in my face and jaw were broken, and some were even shattered. While it could have been far worse than it was, in many ways, it felt like it brought my life to a screeching halt. On the exterior, once the initial round of surgeries were completed, few people could tell that anything was wrong. It is easy to forget that healing is rarely a quick process. And when bones are shattered beneath the skin and the scars are within, it can seem that all is well.

But this event struck deeper than bone, left scars beyond the physical. During the next few years of recovery, I experienced a period where I felt I wandered through a wasteland. Though I knew the Lord’s goodness, though I could speak of His kindness and graciousness toward me, though I had moments of indescribable closeness when my relationship with Him had never seemed deeper, overall, it seemed I stood in a desert.

My throat was parched. My limbs were weak. The wilderness stretched before me, a scorched and dreary place. I was weary, oh so weary of the struggle. Of plodding along through the dust and the heat.

In the desert, I battled guilt. I battled pride, fear, and doubt. I battled a sense of utter worthlessness.

Yet I—a writer—was incapable of putting it in to words.

Or so I thought. Later I realized that I battled in my writing too. Art is often more expressive than we realize. Though my characters have unique personalities and are separate from me, some of the themes and struggles that work their way into the novels are rooted in my own heart. My first novel, Orphan’s Song, was released a few months after my car accident, and so I began to write the second book in the series, Songkeeper, as I pressed on through the uphill struggle of recovery. And if Songkeeper was my soul crying into the darkness for my Father to speak to me as I journeyed through the desert, the third book in the series (releasing for you all to read next spring!) became the answer that was whispered back to me through Scripture, through music, through faithful friends, and those glorious mirrors of truth—books.

Peace. Be still.

Hope gradually filled the quiet moments as I learned to simply be still. To rest in the knowledge that He is God, He is my Father, and I am beloved.

Harmony

In Daring to Hope, Katie shares her own dry and barren season. She speaks honestly of walking through terrible grief and loss and doubt. She compares herself to Jacob wrestling with the Lord, and I cannot help but laugh ruefully and whisper, “Me too.”

“The air feels hot and dry, and so does my spirit. But I feel God’s love so strongly for me here, and I know with all certainty that the long dry season has drawn me to Him in a way that I never could have known apart from it. In the stillness and the quiet, in the suffering, I had fallen in love with Jesus all over again.”

– Daring to Hope

Last spring, I came upon this passage from Isaiah, and it quickly became one of my favorite verses:

“See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. The wild animals honor me, the jackals and the owls, because I provide water in the desert and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my people, my chosen, the people I formed for myself that they may proclaim my praise.”

– Isaiah 43:19-21

As I read this passage, I realized that I did not feel like I had left the desert behind, but somehow He was creating a beautiful place out of what had been barren wilderness. Causing streams to rise. Creating new growth. Renewing. Bringing water from the rock, beauty from the ash heap, and joy out of suffering. And there was a wild and wonderful comfort to be found in that realization, for in order to truly know this truth, I think that it must be experienced.

This truth resounded across the pages of Daring to Hope. It echoed through the life stories and songs and hearts of the fellow sons and daughters that I met at Hutchmoot. And as I continue to watch this beautiful harmony of Scripture, writings, songs, and readings forming, I am once again left in awe at the many layers of the stories that the Master Storyteller spins in our lives.

As always, I could type on for hours more, but I will simply leave you with one final beautiful quote and then encourage you all to read the book for yourself! It is well worth the time.

“All our stories and the intricate way they have been woven together whisper of His glory, His wild pursuit of each of us, His unending grace and love and kindness reach to us, saving us, drawing us to Himself. We can only be mended if we have been broken, and so often, it is in the mending that we feel most clearly His tender heart toward us.”

– Daring to Hope

Your turn to share!

Have you seen this “beautiful harmony” of promptings in the way the Lord works on your heart?
Have you read Kisses from Katie or Daring to Hope ? Any favorite quotes to share?
Have you ever wandered through a dry and barren season in your life? Were you able to see the Lord at work through it?

Tormented and Conflicted Characters – Guest Post from Hope Ann

Anyone here a fan of tormented characters? *sheepishly raises hand* Yep. I am. While I cannot stand drama and angst for drama and angst’s sake, I do love a character who wrestles with deep moral questions, with their calling, with their past, with choices they’ve made, and with their gifts. Because as a deeply introspective person, I can really relate to that character. I can see myself wrestling with the same thing if I were in their shoes, and man, don’t those characters and their stories just tear your heart out?

Today’s post is a peek behind the scenes at one such tormented character, Haydn (from Shadows of the Hersweald), and we have the author herself coming to spill all of poor Haydn’s deepest, darkest secrets.

Excited yet?

Okay, first though, let’s address the elephant in the room. (Greetings, oh thou of long trunk and baggy trousers.) I know there have been a lot of guest posts lately (awesome guest posts!) because I’ve had a lot of exciting authors to share with you guys! Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to balance out all those awesome guest posts with original content because it’s been a bit of a hectic season. Good hectic. But hectic. Deets later, I promise!

In the mean time, make sure you tune in because one is a really fun post from a fellow fantasy fan and author, Hope Ann!

Burning Rose is a compilation of fairy-tale retellings in novella form.

A forbidden rose and deadly sacrifice.

A glittering sword and living melody.

A stolen stormestone and detestable pardon.

The war in Aslaria, founded in ancient legends, changes the lives of those it touches forever.

Sound fascinating? Shadows of the Hersweald is one of those novellas and the one we’re focusing on today!

A battered soldier from a defeated army, Haydn knows the only end to the arrival of the Prince’s governor is chains, followed by punishment and possible execution. Except he hasn’t counted on the Prince himself. Or the pardon which his recent foe has declared to acquit all those who fought against him. A pardon Haydn detests. A pardon that refuses to punish the rebels now threatening his own village. And his sister. 

Guilt-ridden from his own actions during the war, Haydn knows there are others who have no conscience at all. Others who are using the freedom of the pardon to forward their own desperate schemes. With enemies closing in on all sides, a pardon that refuses punishment, and nightmares of murder and fire haunting his every thought, will Haydn recognize the truth or will his fear condemn everything he loves to destruction?

FIND A COPY OF BURNING ROSE ON AMAZON

MEET THE AUTHOR: HOPE ANN

Hope Ann is a speculative fiction writer who lives on a small farm in northern Indiana. She has self-published three Legends of Light novellas and writes regular articles for Kingdom Pen as the Writing Team Captain. Reading since the age of five, and introducing herself to writing at age eight, she never had a question that the author’s life was the life for her. Her goal is to write thrilling Christian fantasy and futuristic fiction — stories she longed for while growing up. After graduating from homeschool, Hope now teaches writing to several of her eight younger siblings. She loves climbing trees, archery, photography, Lord of the Rings, chocolate, and collecting shiny things she claims are useful for story inspiration.

Find out more at: authorhopeann.com

Welcome, Hope!
Meet Haydn: brother, rebel, outlaw

Haydn was the first really tormented character I wrote, and I probably enjoyed writing him too much. He almost didn’t happen. In the first draft of Shadows of the Hersweald, Haydn was a nice, gentle, faithful (and somewhat boring) side character in a story about his sister. But after writing the whole novella once, I knew I was missing something. Turns out I was missing the real Haydn. The story wasn’t about his sister at all; rather it was about a young, battle-scarred soldier struggling to come to terms with his own actions during the war that tore Aslaria apart for two years.

Source: Pinterest (character from the 100 show)

He was wrong; it’s easy for him to see that now. But the fact he fought alongside the rebels against the king, or even the fact that he lost, is hardly the worst of it.

The worst part is the pardon.

He knows what he did to the helpless. He knows that others are worse than him. And he knows none of them deserve forgiveness.

Haydn stilled the trembling of his hand as he took the parchment, but fury reverberated through his voice. “What do you know of security? Of how the Prince protects his own? You understand nothing, for all your time in the Prince’s army.” His voice was hoarse. “There are some who don’t deserve a pardon.” With a quick flick of his wrist, he tore the parchment in two, ignoring Gorawen’s soft gasp. “If the Prince wants peace to follow his victory, this is not the way to go about it.”

It doesn’t help that the son of the returning governor of the Prince was once a close friend. Nearly the same age, Haydn and Traveon used to sneak their way into all sorts of scrapes. They were rarely caught … until the last time. Haydn still bears the scars that even his friend’s tears were unable to stop.

Traveon sighed. “That is all I get? Two years at war on opposite sides, and you won’t give me more than two words?”

Haydn dragged his gaze upward.

Traveon raised one eyebrow. “Come now. I don’t look that bad.”

Haydn snorted, but his lips curved into a faint smile. “You look like you spent the last year scrounging for food in the Hersweald. Didn’t the Prince’s army feed you?”

“More than they fed you, apparently.” Traveon took a step forward, holding out a hand. “As for sleep, however…”

Haydn clasped his comrade ’s sinewy forearm. “We kept you busy?” He smirked.

“Oh, no. It was trying to figure out how to deal with blockheads like you once the war was over that kept us around the fires.” Traveon shook his head, but his smile faded. “What were you thinking? I mean, I’ve seen you do foolish things—”

“Most of which you helped me with,” Haydn reminded him.

“So you liked to claim.” Traveon scowled. “But the Prince’s pardon? Really? Do you know how hard it will be to keep my father from arresting you just for that?”

With Haydn’s step-sister, Gorawen, betrothed to Traveon from before the war, it doesn’t take long for conflicting emotions to spiral out in all directions. The Prince’s sacrifice and pardon is nothing but foolishness. Haydn deserves chains. He deserves death. And he’s quite ready to surrender to them so long as he knows the world will be swept clean of all who served the enemy. Except Haydn was there when the Prince died. The Prince’s gaze still pierces his dreams. The man had been no fool.

Struggling against rogue rebels roaming the mountains, a governor who is only there because it is his duty, and a murderer disguised as a legendary protector, Haydn only has one goal: keep those he loves safe even if it means his own destruction.

FIND A COPY OF BURNING ROSE ON AMAZON

Thanks, Hope! Haydn sounds like a fascinating conflicted character! I’m looking forward to reading about him.

Now, I’d love to hear from you guys! (And this time, I’m going to answer too in the comments below!)

Do you enjoy reading about tormented or conflicted characters?
Do you have a favorite example of a conflicted character?
And, if you’re a writer, have you ever had a similar experience with a side character who demanded a deeper look and a larger part of the story?

Ripples in an Unfolding Story – Guest Post from Joan Campbell

The past few weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind – conferences, moving, packing, editing Book Three of the Songkeeper Chronicles, writing my new #topsecretproject (now, don’t you just love that as a hashtag?), Hutchmoot, etc. Life is often chaotic. But in diving into the chaos, sometimes, we find the beauty beneath the surface. I hope to have more stories and posts to share with you soon, but today, I am emerging from the chaos to celebrate the release of The Heirs of Tirragyl, the second book in The Poison Tree Path Chronicles by fellow Enclave author Joan Campbell!

As part of the fun, you are invited to a special Facebook Book Release party on October 14th! If you’ve never attended one before, it’s a total blast, and in addition to Joan, you’ll get to hang out with other fantastic authors, like Jill Williamson and Morgan L. Busse. Sound like fun? Sign up and/or find out more info here.

And now, a glimpse at the book and its blurb:

Long live the queen . . . ?

Since birth, Nyla has shared everything with her twin brother–royal tutors, the right to the throne of Tirragyl… even their soul. Many believe it wholly belongs to Alexor and should be returned to him regardless of the sacrifice–Nyla’s death. However, her future isn’t the only one in question.

A threat looms over the kingdom. The influential Lord Lucian intends to seize the Grotto, an underworld settlement known for harboring fugitives. And if legend is to be believed, it is also the hiding place of the most powerful of objects, the Guardian Rock. As Nyla fights for her life, she realizes she’s not only a soul heir but also the sole hope for the kingdom’s survival.

PURCHASE A COPY: Amazon // Barnes & Noble // Kobo // iBooks

ADD IT ON GOODREADS: Heirs of Tirragyl

Doesn’t that sound fascinating? Have you read the first book, Chains of Gwyndorr, yet? If not, you may want to check it out here also!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Joan Campbell is notoriously bad at finishing things but, ever since she found the key to the portal, she’s been escaping into worlds far more intriguing than her own. In her word-spun worlds, magic can be harnessed, kings and queens rule supreme and ancient books contain coveted secrets. Her characters face division, danger, their own fallible natures and—ultimately—grace. While her husband and two daughters have learned to fend for themselves, a hungry whine or meow inevitably breaks the spell and brings Joan back to her everyday life in Johannesburg, South Africa. Here Joan wields a tennis racket instead of a longbow and trains writers instead of warriors, knowing full well that the pen is mightier than the sword. Chains of Gwyndorr was a gold medalist in the 2017 Illumination Book Awards.

Follow Joan online: Website // Facebook // Twitter // Amazon Author Page // Goodreads

Let’s welcome, Joan!

To listen to a wise man’s warning or be swept away by the power of an alluring magical object.

To remain true to an oath or choose the path to personal happiness.

To save one’s own reputation or the life of an innocent woman.

These are some of the choices my characters face in Heirs of Tirragyl. What they decide will change their lives and the lives of those around them.

Now I can see your eyes narrowing sceptically, can almost hear the question on your lips: “You’re the author, aren’t you? Don’t you orchestrate their choices and write the story?”

I confess that my characters are a rather headstrong bunch. I’m a little embarrassed even saying that. It’s like admitting you’re the parent of a particularly unruly horde of children. My characters make their own decisions and my role is just to record those as faithfully as I can. Often I hold my breath, watching—with trepidation—the ripples of their choices flowing through the story.

And ripples there are bound to be.

In this, stories mirror real life.

Elder Nelson says, “Each day is a day of decision and our decisions determine our destiny.”

It’s not easy to see the effect of today’s decisions on our destiny, just as Eve could not foresee what one bite from that alluring fruit would bring. From that single moment in the Garden of Eden, death rippled its pain and sorrow through time, touching every life that followed hers. In beautiful contrast, Christ’s choice to die on the cross, rippled life-giving hope and peace through time and into the lives of those who believe.

Decisions matter.

Over and over again, my headstrong characters teach me that choices made from selfish motives bring death. Not always physical death, like Eve’s choice did. Death comes in far more subtle forms than that. A stunting of personal growth. Coldness creeping into relationships. Never stepping into a significant role in a greater, unseen destiny.

In contrast, unselfish choices bring life, even when the personal cost is great. This is what the true heroes in Heirs of Tirragyl teach me. These characters are far from perfect but, despite their flaws, choosing to do what is right brings life. They grow in nobility and impact the lives of others, stepping into their part of the story’s great, unfolding destiny.

God is the author of our lives and  we are the headstrong characters making choices every day. I imagine He too watches with trepidation as the ripples of our choices flow into the world.

So let us choose wisely and unselfishly, bringing life, not death. Let us—despite our flaws—thrive and grow and make an impact.

One of my characters teaches us that it’s never too late to make a good decision. When it seems that all her bad choices have brought destruction, she makes one final unselfish choice…and it brings life.

It’s not too late to be a hero in God’s unfolding story.

Thanks so much for sharing, Joan! I love the concept of watching the ripples of choices unfolding in stories and in our lives too. Now, friends, it’s your turn!

Have you read either Chains of Gwyndorr or Heirs of Tirragyl?
Have you seen the ripples of choices unfolding in your life, a character’s life in a favorite book, or (if you’re a writer) in your storyworld?
What are some ways you think your choices can bring life and not death today?

Giving My Heroine a Face – Guest Post from Kristen Stieffel

Any Pinterest storyboard aficionados here? I must confess, it’s slightly addicting. I usually manage to tear myself away before Pinterest consumes hours of my time, so my Pinterest boards are hardly on the jaw-dropping, drool-worthy side, but they inspire me, and I suppose that’s the point. I have certainly had fun building Pinterest boards for some of my stories: Orphan’s Song, Songkeeper, Out of Darkness Rising, and other top secret upcoming projects *hint hint*.

Long story short, Pinterest boards can be great ways to visualize the worlds if our stories and the characters that inhabit them. So I am excited to host a guest from author (and editor) Kristen Stieffel to the blog today, sharing some of the images she found while prepping the cover for her upcoming fantasy novel, Alara’s Call.

Let’s Welcome Kristen!

I’ve always envied writers whose Pinterest boards were loaded up with pictures of their characters. I have a terrible time finding the right people. In Alara’s Call, her mentor General Rariden has always been Harrison Ford. But with all the other characters, especially Alara herself, I’ve struggled to put a real-life person into the role.

Alara has a high forehead, pointed chin, and green eyes. Apparently this is a really unusual combination. I spent hours combing through Pinterest and stock photo sites but kept coming up short. One girl might have the right shape of face, but she’d be blonde. Another would have a perfect costume, but her bun was all frowzy and tousled. Alara is not a messy bun kind of girl. And when the hair was perfect, the makeup looked like something from a production of Cats. Alara doesn’t wear makeup.

I once came across a photo on Pinterest that struck me with how much she looks like Alara. Except Alara would never dress this way.

Photo: Classic Portrait by Dmitry Ragin

The model reminds me of Jenna Coleman from Doctor Who, so I pretty much decided that Jenna Coleman could pull off the role of Alara. But let’s face it, getting her on the cover of my book was about as likely as getting Harrison Ford to star in the film.

So I kept looking. At one point I found a model on Shutterstock who almost had the right look. But the expression on her face wasn’t compelling.

What I really wanted was a picture of Alara in her battle gear. She braids her hair, wears a black brigandine, and carries a rapier.

Do you know what happens when you search stock photo sites for pictures of women in armor? You probably don’t want to know.

At one point I thought I had it. That black-haired warrior woman on the second row…but…oops that’s a broadsword. Alara doesn’t wear gauntlets. And there’s snow in the background…Alara’s Call takes place during summer. Dang.

Another writer pointed me to Period Images, a stock photo site that specializes in historical fiction. There I found my girl.

Okay, Alara carries a sword often and a parasol never, but this model had the right look, and the dress is the same color and style as one I describe in the book. But Michele Israel Harper, my editor at Love2ReadLove2Write Publishing, found this picture on the cover of another book. That’s the major problem with using stock photo sites.

But now at least I had a model. We found another shot of the same model in a different gown, and we had a winner. Since we were still editing the book, I even added a bit of description to one of the scenes so Alara’s dress matches the one on the cover.

Alara’s Call by Kristen Steiffel

Available for order now!

I have a Pinterest board for Alara’s Call if you want to see more of the photos that almost but don’t quite match my characters.

Thanks for sharing the model hunting process, Kristen! I’m excited to find out more about your book too. :)

Now, it’s your turn! Any writers out there who create Pinterest storyboards? Any readers who create Pinterest boards for their favorite books or fandoms? Share your favorites in the comments.

Ultimate Training Guide to Prepare YOU to Enter Your Favorite Fantasy StoryWorld

After reading this soul-crushing eye-opening post from Katie Grace that dashed all my heroic delusions and left me in a self-pitying puddle on the floor, I have decided that it is time to take action.

Although I have not received my Hogwarts letter, been whisked away to Camp Half Blood by a flying horse, heard my name called in the Reaping (although, honestly, I’m a bit relieved about that one), stumbled into a magical wood by walking through a wardrobe (though not from lack of trying!), or had a party of thirteen dwarves show up unexpectedly at my door …

I have not given up hope.

The Road goes ever on and on, ‘tis said, and who knows what rare fantasy adventure might await around the next corner?

So … no better time than the present to start training! #WeWillRiseUp That’s right. So, after minutes months of research, I have pooled all the collective wisdom I could gather and am now pleased to offer you this ultimate training guide to prepare you to enter your favorite fantasy storyworld.

Let’s start with the basics, shall we?

Transportation

I don’t know about you, but most of my favorite storyworlds lack one key element: modern transportation. Looks like you and I are going to have to rely on our own two feet to carry us places, which means, now is the time to invest in some good footwear.

(On a side note, portal fantasy is just too fun because it allows fantasy characters to interact with gear from our world. I feel like the introduction of tennis shoes into a fantasy world would be earth-shattering. Can’t you just picture a medieval knight—in full plate armor—inspecting a pair of tennis shoes?

“What are these things that thou wearest upon thy feet? They are so light and durable. Methinks thou couldst outrun a horse!” … Hmm, maybe I should take up writing commercials for Addias. What do you think?)

Walking

This is the bread and meat of travel in most fantasy worlds. As I started to write up a plan of action for mastering this skill set—

Start now with a hike or two a week. Before you know it, you’ll be a walking machine! Move on to longer hikes. Practice carrying your gear on your back

—I realized that the perfect training ground already exists! College campuses. Think about it! Long distances. Little time. Every textbook ever written stuffed into your backpack. Kudos to those of you already in college because you are well on your way to honing your heroic walking skills.

Running

In case you haven’t noticed, heroes do a LOT of running. More than they’d like us to think, because running isn’t always very heroic, especially if you’re running away instead of toward something. (As a side note, did anyone count the number of times Gandalf shouted “run” in the Hobbit movies? Pretty sure it ranked in the dozens.)

Mastering this skill is a little trickier for those who prefer running only when running from the Uruk-hai. Unfortunately, it’s a sad—but little acknowledged fact—that if one wants to be able to outrun the Uruk-hai, one has to be able to run. There are always ways to trick yourself into running. My favorite: try sprinting past a handful of preschoolers with cookies. I guarantee they’ll chase you, and I guarantee that you’ll want to run!

Eagle-riding

Honestly … I’m not sure how to help with this one. It is one of those truly essential skills, if you wind up in a place like Middle Earth. But I am afraid it is generally frowned upon in modern circles. And by frowned upon, I do mean highly illegal and certain to get you incarcerated.

Whatever the mode of transportation, always remember, “Shortcuts make long delays!”

Victuals

It’s always best to make a clean break, so let’s go ahead and say farewell to the ease of fast food restaurants, insta-meals, and grocery shopping. Food is often a scarcity in our favorite spec fic novels. Particularly if you’re questing. Dried meat, hard bread, and oddly enough stew seem to be favorites. I’d suggest changing your diet now so you can adjust, and get used to cooking stew while on the march. (It takes major skills, people. Major skills.)

You also probably want to perfect your hunting abilities. It’s considered normal for characters to make camp in the evening, go hunting, kill a rabbit or three, skin, gut, and dice the creatures, and have time to whip up an excellent stew before hitting the sack. Bit of a tall order for anyone, let alone those of us who generally rely on the grocery shelves rather than the woods to supply our meat.

But let’s face it, folks, the worst hardship of all … is the lack of coffee.

How does anyone survive?

Seriously.

As much as I like the idea of diving into my favorite spec fic storyworld, the lack of coffee is almost enough to convince me to stay put. We writer-types do love our coffee!

Lodging

Say goodbye to your comfy bed and feather pillow. In fact, if you hope to get any sleep while in-world, it’s best to prepare yourself now for sleeping on the cold, hard ground beneath the stars. If you’re lucky. If not, then beneath the rain. (Don’t worry. I’m sure your neighbors won’t think twice about you sprawling out on the lawn to sleep.) When you do have the chance to get out of the elements, chances are you will have to resort to cramped inn quarters or piles of straw in the stable. (Hope you’re not allergic.)

But that’s okay, because chances are you’re not going to have much opportunity to sleep in any case. Apparently characters in novels never need to sleep … or don’t need to sleep nearly as much as we enjoy sleeping. Maybe that’s why they so often make rash decisions, or why those dramatic romantic subplots that could be solved by a simple conversation often take a whole book to resolve—the main characters are simply exhausted and grumpy.

(See why “no coffee” is such a big thing! For REAL, people, for REAL!)

Wrap-Up

There are about a million other things we could cover, but I think that’s a decent start for now. What say you? Will you join me in training to enter our favorite spec fic novels? What are some other things that you think we should add to our lists so we’ll be ready? Share your legendary wisdom in the comments!

Giveaway, anyone?

In other news,  I’m currently running a giveaway for Songkeeper over on Goodreads! You should go enter and tell your friends about it too! (Because who doesn’t want a chance to win a free book.) Also, if we’re not friends yet on Goodreads, we should be. And thirdly – because the OCD grammatical warrior inside of me apparently has no issue with starting the final point of a non-numerical list with “thirdly” – why not add Orphan’s Song and Songkeeper to your bookshelves on Goodreads?

I’m told they look rather nice on bookshelves, virtual or otherwise …

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Goodreads Book Giveaway


Songkeeper
by Gillian Bronte Adams

Giveaway ends September 26, 2017.

See the giveaway details

at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

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How Are You Celebrating National Buy a Book Day?

Do you know what today is? It’s National Buy a Book Day!

I’m always curious who exactly decides to make these pseudo-holidays a thing. National Buy a Book Day is a great thing, don’t get me wrong, but I would be so down for a National Stay at Home and Read Day instead. Now wouldn’t that just be great?

But in all seriousness, (tongue-in-cheekness?), I am really so happy that this day exists, because as my Amazon account can testify, I clearly need more excuses to buy books!

Or maybe, I just need more legitimate excuses to make me feel less guilty about buying all the books that I do … This wandering writer is all for living light, except when it comes to collecting books. As much as I love the idea of space efficiency and light travel that owning a kindle provides, I simply cannot get over the feel of a book in my hands, the creak of the spine when I crack it open for the first time, the smell of the pages, and the weightiness of a lengthy tale. Such beautiful things!

But I digress. It’s National Buy a Book Day, so what better day to talk about our latest book finds?

Currently Reading:

I’m currently reading these two exciting stories …

Valiant by Lesley Livingston

A female Cantii warrior turned Gladiator? Why, yes, please! Just started this one recently so I’m only a few chapters in and loving it so far. I have many favorite books and movies in this era, including Gladiator (movie) and The Eagle of the Ninth (book), so I’m always game for something new! And I’m a huge fan of tales about female warriors … in case you hadn’t picked up on that yet.

Dare by Tricia Mingerink

This one has been out for several years now, and I’m sad it’s taken me this long to pick it up. Still only a few chapters into this one as well, but I’m enjoying the reluctant assassin feel, and I do think I could quite come to like Leith Torren. Yes, indeed, I think I could. (Who am I kidding? I’m always a sucker for the guy stuck in the no-win situation!)

To-Read Pile:

Next up, I have these three beauties …

Crown of Souls by Ronie Kendig

*sigh* This one came in the mail today, and I made the terrible mistake of reading the first sentence. The first sentence, y’all! And then I had to close the book and hide it away, because I’m already reading two books, writing, attempting to live life … and you get the picture.

But because misery loves company, I’m going to share the first sentence with you too!

It took one ten thousandth of a second—exactly 0.000169 seconds—for the bullet to rip through his shoulder.”

– Crown of Souls

There. Now I dare you to not go out and buy this book and devour it in one sitting, because Ronie Kendig is the mastermind of this type of “must-devour-now” fiction.

Roar by Cora Carmack

I rarely buy a book without reading the first chapter. The first two pages of this one convinced me to buy it. (That and the premise and this fascinating cover!) But really, I picked it up because I love a complex fantasy storyworld with unique, elaborate details and a well-written, well-developed tale, and this book promises to have just that. It’s been sitting on my shelf just begging me to read it, and I can’t wait to dive in!

Daring to Hope by Katie Davis Majors

This one is a completely different change of pace from the others, but I’m putting it up here because I am just too excited to read it. I recently read Katie’s story of how she moved to Uganda, wound up adopting thirteen daughters, and starting the Amazima ministry, in her book Kisses from Katie, and I wound up staying up until all hours of the night to finish and underlining and highlighting nearly 1/3 of the book. So when I learned that her publishing company was putting together a launch team for her next book Daring to Hope, I couldn’t wait to get a copy and help spread the word.

It is always awesome to hear how God is at work, and I appreciate the reminder that true ministry is so often accomplished in the little day to day sacrifices and moments spent loving on people and meeting their needs.

So there you have it, folks! That’s what I have coming up next. How about you?

Your turn!

What are you currently reading?
What do you have coming up next?
Will you be buying a new book on National Buy a Book Day?