October 23, 2010
The Potential Redemption of Villains…

From the forthcoming Revelations of Darkened Souls

Lightning struck the ground, crackle-walking between trees, briefly illuminating a hunched, hooded shape on a nearby path. The path was steep, and the person moved slowly but steadily through the torrential downpour, approaching the unlit castle. Once inside the barbican, the figure stopped, leaning its back against the wall under an overhang, breathing heavily, a hand gently caressing its rounded abdomen. She looked back at the valley below, and wondered where her pursuers were. She hadn’t seen them, but she knew they were there. He would never let her escape…

“Who is it?” came a deep, melodic voice. “Show yourself!”

The figure moved into the courtyard. The rolling clouds above thundered and flashed; For an instant, she saw water cascading over blue scales, great white wings stretched up, a head with long teeth and silver horns.

“My name is Danelle,” the figure said, pulling back its hood. She bowed, letting her long, wet blond tresses fall over her face. She brushed them aside. “I beg your indulgence.”

“My mother has told me about you,” said Hassakkor with disgust. “You are not one of our friends.”

“That may be so,” Danelle said. “I’ve made… mistakes.” She paused, wincing. “It’s very important that I go to Caerelon. I must speak to Kaylen Thyr.”

“No,” said the dragon. “I am tasked with protecting this place.”

“I’m familiar with your mother’s teachings,” the woman stated. “I believe mercy was among them.” Exhausted, she dropped to her knees in the mud. “I am in great danger. Please.”

Hassakkor looked at her carefully, considering.

“You are with child,” he said.

“Yes,” she whispered. Even above the roar of the storm, Hassakkor heard her.

He reached one of his great paws toward her…

September 26, 2010
On Kehklik: A Dragon’s Perspective

From A Journey of Dragons, here is the dragon Sytherek’s consideration of the kehklik, a unique species in the lands of Syraqua…

Sytherek lay atop a mesa, head held high, motionless except for his searching eyes. His perch offered an exceptional view of two neighboring kehklik hives, one young, one old. Recent events had rekindled his interest in the creatures. He observed, contemplated, and formed hypotheses; later would come elegant experiments, in which humans might play an involuntary role. His goal, befitting his species, was nothing less than liberating the hidden potential of the kehklik. Brother Symurall could play with the silly humans who’d washed up on the beach; Sytherek’s grand plans involved the evolution of something new.

The hives lay at the edge of kehklik territory; they were entirely separate, each with its own queen and distinct population. The older hive was the healthier and larger of the two. A lone proto-queen had established the younger hive, only twenty years earlier, without apparent assistance, extending her species’ domain. Across thousands of square leagues, hundreds of hives lay scattered. The distance between colonies was almost a constant: an hour, as measured by the relaxed flight of a dragon. It was as if no kehklik would travel more than a dozen leagues from its queen. When circumstances forced a kehklik outside its home territory, the likely result was confusion or even insanity. Behavior was universal; any kehklik colony could replace another, and the change would hardly be noticeable.

That is, except for a remarkable exception: The hive at Jozin’s Peak.

Sytherek once again rebuked himself for failing to monitor the kehklik hives along the coast. He’d never had faith in Symurall’s plan to isolate the humans of Tramora; however, rather than oppose his brother, Sytherek had implemented a private backup plan. Taking proto-queens and placing them along Syraqua’s northern shores, he’d created a defense against human incursion. As many years passed, his attention was drawn away by other concerns, and the hives had been left to their own devices. Only one guardian hive survived, near Jozin’s Peak. In a strange turn of fate, that lone colony had grown to unusual magnificence in isolation; it had even attempted to fulfill its intended destiny, thwarted only by Symurall’s intercession on behalf of Kaylen’s people. Yet in their defeat, the kehklik had demonstrated unexpected, original, strategic thought – proof that a key existed to unlock the sentience of the kehklik. Sytherek treasured that discovery, grudgingly admitting gratitude – rather than annoyance – for his brother’s actions. He would find a way to recreate that key, and apply it to other hives.

Other mysteries lacked answers as well. The finale of The Reckoning, the unprecedented and unique kehklik assault on humanity – that, too, required an explanation, in case he had need of such power…

Read more at A Journey of Dragons.

September 17, 2010
Of Love, Bathrooms, and Laser Pistols

I’ve been very busy recently, with programming and life and writing and… well, stuff. This passage is from the the third act of Revelations of Darkened Souls, the forthcoming sequel to A Journey of Dragons. I’ll be posting more int he coming weeks… as always, this is preliminary text, from before major editorial passes and final polishing. :)

Norgrim is the leader of the Loreseeker dwarves, a sect devoted to the acquisition of knowledge; Kalinda is his daughter. Alanora is the leader of Caerelon, the only remaining major human city in the world, and Zarah is a young woman who’s their friend. And now for the story segment…

“Where is Gyre?” Alanora asked.

“Fifty leagues northwest,” Kalinda told her. “They’ll take Zarah there by underground steamrail, but the terminus on this end is under the Theorist compound. There has to be some other way to get there quickly.”

“Are you insane?” Norgrim yelled. Alanora shot the dwarf a look he’d only seen once before, and his blood froze.

“Norgrim, take the viricide to Caerelon,” Alanora ordered. Norgrim started to object; her eyes told him it would be unwise. “Make it look like I’ve gone with you.”

“No!” Norgrim burst forth. “We’re lucky to have gotten out of this as well as we have. Zarah accepted the sacrifice.”

“Then she made a bad choice,” said Alanora. “There is no Caerelon if we abandon our principles. I will not leave Zarah behind to be picked apart and murdered.”

“Where do you keep your toys, father?” Kalinda asked.

“What toys…”

“Where?” she demanded.

“What are you talking about?” Alanora asked.

“My father collects interesting things,” Kalinda replied. “Odd devices, forgotten technology, whatever comes his way in dusty old ruins and hidden vaults. He must have some of it here, in case of emergency. Hidden.”

“I don’t even know how most of it works!” her father insisted.

“We’re bright girls,” said Kalinda. “We’ll take what we can figure out.”

“You’re not going!” Norgrim said, realizing what her “we” implied.

“Yes I am.”

“No you’re not!” Norgrim declared. “I like Zarah, but to throw your life away –”

“It’s my life and my choice,” Kalinda said, firmly and calmly. “Zarah is more than my friend. I love her, father.

Norgrim looked very confused for a moment.

“That’s part of what upset those Theorists, isn’t it?” Alanora asked. “Under the drugs, she told them how she feels about you, didn’t she?”

“Maybe. Probably,” said Kalinda. “The two of us keep dancing around our feelings, not quite sure what to do. It didn’t happen overnight, and it certainly wasn’t planned. It just happened. And I’ll be damned if those zekts are going to take her away from me.”

“It makes no sense!” exclaimed Norgrim. “You’re both –”

“Yes, we’re both women. I’ve noticed. And we aren’t even the same species. But we make each other happy… as Tohkay once said, does anything else really matter?”

“You discussed this with Tohkay?” His eyes went wide.

“He’s a wise little lizard. I think he’s been talking to both of us, and I should have listened to him sooner. If she dies before I can… well, that’s not going to happen.”

Norgrim shook his head. “You aren’t serious about this.”

“More serious than you imagine,” said Kalinda. “You’d fight a pack of dragons for mother. Alanora risked her life to rescue Kaylen. Don’t deny me the right to protect the person I love. Now – where are your toys?”

Norgrim was silent.

Alanora kicked him.

“Fine, fine,” Norgrim growled. “This way.”

He lead them through the house, to the bathroom.

“You keep toys in the toilet?” Alanora asked.

“Would you look here for a cache of deadly antiques?” Norgrim asked. “What did you expect me to have? A secret door behind a bookshelf?”

“Actually, yes.”

He mumbled under his breath about people who lacked imagination. Taking the top off the toilet’s cistern, he reaching inside; two loud clicks later, the bathtub slid sideways into a compartment in the wall, revealing a stairway down.

They descended quickly. Light came on automatically, revealing a large room, lined with shelves, cabinets, and crates. Devices strange, wondrous, and incomprehensible surrounded them.

“Most of these are dwarven make,” Norgrim said.  “A few come from human ruins or Roqat. I’ve never had time to study them all.” He walked to one set of shelves, and picked up a folded piece of shimmering cloth. With a quick motion, he wrapped it around himself – and disappeared.

“An invisibility cloak?” Alanora asked. “What is this, your collection of clichés?”

His head appeared, disembodied, smiling. “It’s not perfect,” he said. “People will see distortions from certain angles, or when you’re moving.”

Kalinda’s attention was drawn to a complex device. The central component was a long, wide cylinder made from orange-red metal, its surface inscribed with dull blue runes.

“This has a power port,” she said. “Do you have a charged anpheric crystal at two thousand peranils?”

“Careful!” he father exclaimed, tossing the cloak aside and moving quickly to her side. “That thing’s dangerous.”

“Only if I aim it the wrong way,” she said. She pointed to the blue symbols. “This is an ancient form of Dwarven – here’s Istona’s signature mark. She built this! You found this in Roqat, didn’t you?” For the first time in hours, she smiled, but it was a dark smirk Norgrim had never seen on his daughter’s face. “This says something about quantum displacement,” she continued. “That’s one of the principles underlying the harmonic gateways – what’s that whining noise?”

Instinctively, she and Norgrim dropped to the floor. A burst of intense purple light filled the room, accompanied by crackling sounds and acrid odors. They looked to see Alanora rubbing her eyes amid settling dust, holding an object with pulsing red and blue crystals on top.

“That was fun,” Alanora said. “I made your storage room bigger.” In the wall across from her, a smoking hole extended into darkness.

“Gah!” Norgrim said. “What did you do?”

“This looked interesting,” she said, examining the weapon closely. “It had two color-coded sockets, so I plugged in a pair of these glowing crystals from this cabinet. I didn’t know what this button did, so I pushed it. It seems to be working.”

“Be careful!” Norgrim said. “You can’t rescue anyone as a corpse!”

“Why in hell do you hide all this stuff?” she asked. “Why are you afraid of anything? Just this one weapon could –”

“I could conquer all of Syraqua in a day,” Norgrim said. “And so could anyone else who got their hands on my collection. I’ve spent decades keeping Theorist hands off tools like these.” He pointed to a table against one wall. “Those were made by your species, Alanora. You might want to see if any of them make sense to you. Just don’t blow us all up, please. I want to live long enough to see if we survive.”

(more to come)

September 1, 2010
 
Revelations of Darkened Souls is the sequel to A Journey of Dragons. What follows is the opening scene…
Lightning struck the ground, crackle-walking between trees, briefly illuminating a hunched, hooded figure on a nearby path. The path was steep, and the person moved slowly but steadily through the torrential downpour, approaching the unlit castle. Once inside the barbican, the figure stopped, leaning against the wall under an overhang, breathing heavily, a hand gently caressing its rounded abdomen. She looked back at the valley below, and wondered where her pursuers were. She had not seen them, but she knew they were there. He would never let her escape…
“Who is it?” came a deep, melodic voice. “Show yourself!”
The figure moved into the courtyard. The rolling clouds above thundered and flashed; For an instant, she saw water cascading over blue scales, great white wings stretched up, a head with long teeth and silver horns.
“My name is Danelle,” the figure said, pulling back its hood. She bowed, letting her long, wet blond tresses fall over her face. She brushed them aside. “I beg your indulgence.”
“My mother has told me about you,” said Hassakkor with disgust. “You are not one of our friends.”
“That may be so,” Danelle said. “I’ve made… mistakes.” She paused, wincing. “It’s very important that I go to Caerelon. I must speak to Kaylen Thyr.”
“No,” said the dragon. “I am tasked with protecting this place.”
“I am familiar with your mother’s teachings,” the woman stated. “I believe mercy was among them.” Exhausted, she dropped to her knees in the mud. “I am in great danger. Please.”
Hassakkor looked at her carefully, considering.
“You are with child,” he said.
“Yes,” she whispered. Even above the roar of the storm, Hassakkor heard her.
He reached one of his great paws toward her…

Revelations of Darkened Souls is the sequel to A Journey of Dragons. What follows is the opening scene…

Lightning struck the ground, crackle-walking between trees, briefly illuminating a hunched, hooded figure on a nearby path. The path was steep, and the person moved slowly but steadily through the torrential downpour, approaching the unlit castle. Once inside the barbican, the figure stopped, leaning against the wall under an overhang, breathing heavily, a hand gently caressing its rounded abdomen. She looked back at the valley below, and wondered where her pursuers were. She had not seen them, but she knew they were there. He would never let her escape…

“Who is it?” came a deep, melodic voice. “Show yourself!”

The figure moved into the courtyard. The rolling clouds above thundered and flashed; For an instant, she saw water cascading over blue scales, great white wings stretched up, a head with long teeth and silver horns.

“My name is Danelle,” the figure said, pulling back its hood. She bowed, letting her long, wet blond tresses fall over her face. She brushed them aside. “I beg your indulgence.”

“My mother has told me about you,” said Hassakkor with disgust. “You are not one of our friends.”

“That may be so,” Danelle said. “I’ve made… mistakes.” She paused, wincing. “It’s very important that I go to Caerelon. I must speak to Kaylen Thyr.”

“No,” said the dragon. “I am tasked with protecting this place.”

“I am familiar with your mother’s teachings,” the woman stated. “I believe mercy was among them.” Exhausted, she dropped to her knees in the mud. “I am in great danger. Please.”

Hassakkor looked at her carefully, considering.

“You are with child,” he said.

“Yes,” she whispered. Even above the roar of the storm, Hassakkor heard her.

He reached one of his great paws toward her…

August 8, 2010
A Rationality for Self-Publishing

The stigma of self-publishing is typical of most prejudices — it’s based on a small body of facts. As a bona-fide published author of over a dozen dead-tree, bookstore titles, I’ll try to shed some light on why I went the self-publishing route.

I have no trouble with editorial changes; I’m a strong defender of the NEED for editors as a critical eye. I even have a successful real-world editor who looks over my stuff before I self-publish. Editors are not, in general, the problem with traditional publishing.

So what why did I go with self-publishing?

Economics, for one. Let’s say I sell a book to a publisher today. I’ll get an advance against royalties in a few weeks. Then I won’t see another penny for at least 12 months, and probably closer to 2 years. Biggest advance I ever got was US$12k for a technical book — for a fiction novel, we’re looking at half that in the current market. Now, if it takes me, say, six months to write a 100,000-word novel — I’m making
, per month, 2k for non-fiction and 1k for fiction, which is below poverty level.

The majority of books don’t pay out their advance, simply because the advance is based on an educated guess about sales. Royalties run anywhere from 5% to 15% of wholesale price, and half that if the book is sold to a store for less than 50% of cover price. If I sell a novel with a cover price of $20, and I get a $6000 advance. Mom-and-pop bookstores will buy it for $12, while Amazon.com pays slightly less, often below the 50% bulk-discount threshold that halves my royalties. At a 10% royalty, I’m getting $1.20 per book sold; we need to sell 5000 books before I make back my advance and see new money again.

I’m using very optimistic numbers based on my real world experience as a full-time author. Economically, traditional publishing stinks. The Rowlings and Kings of the world are a microscopic and distracting minority.

Ignore economics for a moment, and consider the difficulty of making a sale. My fiction books tend to cross genres; my most recent novel, A Journey of Dragons, is a fantasy romance with elements of steampunk, set in a unique world without elves and with bespectacled lizards. I ran the manuscript through the agent/publisher gauntlet for a while — I have a box full of “great story, great characters, don’t know how to position it in the market” letters. I was told by one publisher that 90,000 words is too long, and by another that it was too short. not one REJECTION said anything bad about my writing or story structure. The book just doesn’t fit anyone.

So to crowd funded self-publishing I go. I have no idea if it will work, but I do know that it’s a whole lots of work and fun.

My current crowd funded book projects are:

A Journey of Dragons - A science fantasy romance

Doctrina Physicum - Math and Physics for a Steampunk World

Evolutionary Algorithms - Natural Selection in Software Engineering

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