tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44347076767753211032024-02-29T21:39:42.182-08:00The Guy Who Wrote That ThingThe Blog of Alva J. RobertsAlva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.comBlogger219125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-56759407543613154022014-12-03T22:12:00.002-08:002014-12-03T22:12:36.790-08:00Alive!
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It has been a long time since I posted. Which makes me a
horrible blogger. The problem with blogging is that you have to be in the mood
to write but not in the mood to write fiction. For a while I just have not had
the urge. I finally decided to sit down and write a blog, just to say
"Hey, I am alive!"</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I feel a little rusty at blogging so please forgive this post's
clunky-ness. I am going to try to get back into the swing of posting once a
week or so.</span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyway, I blame my lack of blogging on getting a new degree.
Getting a degree online required so much writing that I just did not want to
write anything other than stories in my free time. But the degree is done and I
already have a job. </span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am now an IT Technician at our local college. The hours
are nice the benefits are great and the pay is much better than the library's.
By my math (which can be iffy) if I work at the college two years I will make
enough extra money to pay for my degree. Not bad. </span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On the writing front, since my last post I have been slow
but steady. I have been working on a couple of different novels. I got 50,000
word into one project before realizing that I needed another view point
character. A major rewrite. Sigh. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have a good idea of a couple of possible view point
characters but I need to decide if I want to stop and do the rewrite now or
just finish the thing and go back though and do a rewrite. I decided it was
best just to take a break; so I <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>started
a new project last week and I am about 5000 words in. It is going well. I have
plotted this one out quite a bit more than my last few novels. Hopefully this
means no major rewrites.</span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I also took a look at the Truth of Iron between projects. It
is a novel I finished right before starting school. It needs a new ending, the
whole thing goes way off track for the last 20,000 words or so. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I finally figured out how it should
end. </span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">All these partially completed projects and notebooks of idea
make me wish I had more free time. Maybe I will find some time on Christmas
break to get something done on a few of them.</span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There is an update. I am going to try to go back to normal
posts next week but my mother-in-law will be in town so I may not be able to.</span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-32380187736331170512014-01-17T22:59:00.002-08:002014-01-17T22:59:49.577-08:00Pill Hill Press Rights<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am sorry for not posting very often, going back to school is taking up a lot more of my time these last few semesters. But here pretty soon I should have a little more free time and will start posting more often. This semester I am earning a Comptia A+ certification and I will be taking the first test on the 28th and then the other a few weeks later.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anyway this post is for the former PHP authors who stumble onto this site. If you still need an email or a letter releasing your rights back to you please send me a message via the contact form. Final royalties will be going out over the next month or so as we get our tax documents prepared.</div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-89580290166560755082013-09-16T01:05:00.000-07:002013-09-16T01:05:36.131-07:00Free Fiction: The WellI have been so busy it is hard to get to the blog, so here is some free fiction to tide you over until I can post more often. This story was the last one written during the PHP shoot outs, it was one of my favorites. I probably should have done another edit or two but I never got around to it.<br />
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The Well<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">By Alva J.
Roberts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The Carcel was
an ancient structure. The thick gray granite of the walls spoke of enduring
strength, while the light killing shadows in the corners and on the ceilings
spoke of something altogether more sinister. There was a weight to the darkness
a palpable feel to it as if one could reach out and grab a piece of it and hold
it in their hands. The structure was buried thirty feet below the surface of a
mountain; the few stray beams of light that made it into the depths died there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
Garron, the High Sentinel, walked the smooth paths worn into the stone floors
by a hundred generations of Sentinels, he felt fear tearing at his gut. It was
a familiar fear, one he had dealt with many times before. He fought it off with
the sword of duty and the shield of determination. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
stopped in a doorway before proceeding. He was no longer what anyone would call
a young man, and he was finding the preparations for using magic were taking
him longer and longer. This was a part of the great balance; as his power grew,
it became increasingly harder to use.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
he felt his power fill him, he drew in a breath and walked forward. Even after
holding his position as High Sentinel for fifteen years, he still shivered when
he entered the Chamber. The huge cavern stretched out in every direction,
making it feel as if he was standing on a small island of light in a sea of
inky blackness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Huge,
rough cut crystal pillars were spaced at irregular intervals around the cavern.
Five of the pillars glowed with a faint green light, while hundreds more lay
dormant. There so few left, so little magic remained. Once wells of magical
power like the Carcel were every everywhere; those that had the skill could
draw magic from them the way villagers drew water from a well. Those days were
barely a memory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Sometimes Garron
wondered if his duties were still necessary. The Carcel could practically run
itself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Something inside
one of the huge crystals moved and the light became noticeably brighter. This
was what reminded him that a Sentinel was needed. This is why he had spent over
a hundred years in the depths of the Carcel, the magic extending his life long
past what it should have been. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron’s
hand swept through the forms of magic and his mouth formed words in the
language of the ancient Tholan Empire, the world conquerors. He felt the magic
well up inside of him in the same manner as laughter bubbling to the surface.
The magic wrapped around the creature inside the pillar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron's
hand reached to the stand in front of him to grip the Staff of Sentinels. The
length of wood was one of the few magical artifacts that were allowed in the
Carcel, but unlike the baubles that were created for the wealthy, the Staff
created magic rather than using it. Over twenty past Sentinels had given their
lifeforce to the staff. It was well of power, one Garron was loath to use if he
did not need to. Once used, the magic would be lost.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
was a struggle then, a battle, a war. An observer would have seen nothing, just
Garron standing in a circle of light staring intently at the crystal monolith. Had
that same observer been able to see a physical manifestation of the battle of
wills that raged before them, they would have seen two Titans that dwarfed the
mountains laboring against each other. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Garron had the
upper hand, by the very nature of the conflict. He drew his power from the demons
imprisoned in the crystals, using them as a well to draw magic from. The vile
beings captured in the crystals were fighting against themselves when they
attempted to escape.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The war of wills
raged on for the better part of two days. The creatures imprisoned within the
pillars had only escaped three times since the founding of the Carcel nine
centuries before. Each time it was by pushing the Sentinel beyond endurance. But
there were many times that the creatures touched the world with their dark
powers. That was the reason why the Carcel was never completely dark. Vile
things could be born from the dark. But Garron did not allow this demon’s power
to touch the world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Finally the
creature gave up its attempt and grew silent. Garron reached a hand out to
another of the pillars to steady himself. Sweat rolled down his cheeks to drip
off his chin. He was tired; his body ached and throbbed as if the battle had
been a physical one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“High Sentinel?
Is it done? May I enter?” one of Garron’s apprentices asked from the doorway.
Garron peered across the chamber. His apprentice was a young man, with thick
brown hair and a slender build. Garron stared at the man; this was the
apprentice's fourth year in the Carcel. Garron spoke with him every day, but
right now he could not remember his name. He was just one in a seemingly
endless stream of young men and women who worked with him in the Carcel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">He currently had
six such men and women and at the moment he could not remember any of their
names. Such things happened when you entered a mental battle with a demon, but
it was still disturbing. The boy was a friend as well as a student. Garron
should remember his name.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">"Yes, it is
over," Garron said. Was the boy's name Harold? Hemald? Harrin? Harold?
Yes. Harold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">"Sentinel
Marcus sent word. There are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hunters</i>,"
Harold said in an awed whisper, stressing the final word, giving it special
meaning, “they have a thousand men outside, but only twenty came inside.” Garron
forgave him his excitement. No member of the Order of the Chase had come to
Carcel in nearly seventy years. Harold had good reason to be excited and a
little scared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">"Send word
to the other Sentinels. There shall be an Algather. And send word to Marcus. Have
him welcome the guests and let them rest from the rigors of the road. Food and
other such things," Garron replied. A meeting of every Sentinel in the
Carcel was nearly as rare as a visit from the Hunters. The apprentice quarters
would be abuzz with gossip. "Now help me to my rooms. I need to prepare
myself," Garron said. His left hand shot out to grab the boy's shoulder. Even
with the messengers running, it would take some time for word to spread through
the rambling vastness of the Carcel, then even more time for the Sentinels to come.
Garron had at least four hours, perhaps more, to regain his facilities and
preside over a meeting that could change his very way of life. Garron limped
from the Chamber on unsteady feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
old man staggered from the room with his hand on a boy's shoulder. Nahl-thenor watched,
a sneer of disgust crossing his ancient, ruined face. The human was getting
old, just as hundreds of his predecessors had before. Nahl-thenor had tested
the old man's will and found it as strong as ever, but this High Sentinel had
never needed help to leave the Chamber before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
had felt his plan coming to fruition and needed to test his opposition. The
timing was perfect. There was no way the current High Sentinel could know of
his plans; they had begun when he was a boy, a mere apprentice. Soon Nahl-thenor
and his brethren that still lived would be free. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The Empire of
Pain would be reborn. Even the mighty Tholan Empire had bowed down to them. The
shattered remnant of the kingdoms that came after would provide little in the
way of a challenge. The magic of this world was dead. Once he and his brothers
were free, even the power the Sentinels siphoned off of them would no longer be
theirs. It took Nahl-thenor a few moments to realize the death bone rattle of a
sound he was hearing was his own laughter, which made him laugh all the harder…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
great hall gleamed with pure white magical light. The polished granite
reflected the light, as if the hard stone from the Earth’s heart was trying to
eject it from the cavern. Garron shaded his eyes against the glare with his
hands. It had been years since the Hall had been used for anything. The immense
size of the cavern only served to remind him of just how small the Order of the
Protector had grown. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
huge room had been built to house the twenty thousand Sentinels and
apprentices. Fewer than a hundred men and women were now standing in the
enormous space. Garron felt a small sliver of uncertainty worm its way up his
spine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>According
to Nolan's Great Bureaucracy, the High Sentinel and the Grand Huntsmaster were
equals, to be given the same honors and treatment. But Nolan's kingdom had
succumbed to the ravages of time nearly two hundred years ago. There was
nothing to hold the Hunter's to the rules laid forth in the seventy-nine
volumes of the Bureaucracy other than tradition. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
could not even blame the Order of the Chase if they chose to conquer the Carcel
and take it as their own. Of the twelve remaining Orders, the Order of the
Protector was by far the weakest. If Garron had been the Huntsmaster, he was
not sure if he would have allowed the Sentinels to continue in their duty of
guarding the Carcel. Every Order’s wizards used the Carcel as a magical well of
power. It was a valuable resource to all of them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
jerked his hand away from his eyes as a group of men entered the room. The men
towered head and shoulders above Garron, and they were three times as wide as
he was in the shoulders. Thick black hair covered most of their visible skin,
but a circle of weathered skin surrounded their eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
tried to stand a little taller and forced down the slight tremor that ran
through his arms. The Carcel still gave him power, power enough to destroy
these men where they stood. Despite their size and their numbers, if they came
to make war with the Order of the Protector they were in for an awful surprise.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I
am Garron, High Sentinel of the Order of the Protector, Lord Ruler of the
Carcel. I give greetings and welcome to those <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that come in peace</i>," Garron's voice echoed eerily through the
chamber. The words, those that come in peace, seemed somehow amplified as
Garron attempted to make the men wonder what would happen to those that did not
come in peace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Well
met, Garron. I am Gunthar, Huntsmaster of the Order of the Chase, Crown Prince
of Lowfort, second born son of Grand Huntmaster Alric, King of Lowfort,"
one of the men said as he stepped forward. The man was younger than the others,
but had an air of command about him that Garron could have only dreamed of at
his age. Despite his growing respect Garron, closed his eyes and prepared to
use his magic. If the Huntsmasters were claiming to be Kings and Princes, much
had changed and Garron needed to be ready. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Perhaps the
Huntsmaster could sense the power Garron called upon. His hands slipped down to
rest on his Kalhi, the magical dagger-like weapons were sharper than steel and
could launch beams of solid light far more accurately than any bow could shoot
an arrow. The wizards among the Order of the Chase had always had a different
outlook on the use of magic. Even in Nolan’s time, they had been famous the
world over for the artifacts they created. Still, it was a surprise to see an
entire group of men wearing the Kalhi. The weapons were becoming rare.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Why
have you come to the Carcel?" Garron asked. The power of his magic colored
his voice making it sound strange and hollow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"In
accordance with the ancient laws, the Huntsmasters deliver this creature onto
you. We have given chase deep in the night, and the hunters have captured their
prey. Let the darkness fear the Hunt," Gunthar said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Let
the darkness remain here, and no longer trouble the world," Garron replied
formally. He had never thought he would have to say the words. The icy touch of
fear grabbed ahold of Garron; it froze his chest and made it hard to speak or
breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Low,
incredulous whispers filled the hall. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
then a few breaths later, the Hunters stepped aside to reveal the being that
hid in their midst the entire time. Garron sucked in a breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
thing was silmy green and appeared to be made of mucus. The green liquid seemed
to flow from every part of its body, only to be drawn in again. It was a
Plas-man, a minor demon, a relatively weak specimen compared the giant Daemon
they had locked in the crystals. But Garron's magic hurtled forward forming a
blue glowing rope made of pure energy that wrapped around the creature. It could
escape any other bindings and, unless bound, brought disease and plague.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"How-,"Garron
stopped. "No. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Where </i>did this
thing come from? There hasn't been a free demon captured in over five hundred
years."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"We
found the creature in the forest. Three tribes were killed by this…thing. The
men, the women, the children…the children I have never seen such-,"
Gunthor stopped and took a deep breath. "Fifty Hunters died to capture it
and bring it here. As was agreed in the days of old, the Order of the Chase has
brought the darkness to you. Now it is your problem." Gunthor turned and
led his party from the hall as he spoke. Garron made no move to stop him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Instead,
he spoke a few simple words, “Huntsmaster, I invite you and your party to share
our fires and food. You have traveled far; do not begin your journey anew without
rest. You are welcome here. Please allow my apprentice, Harold, to show you to
your rooms.” The offer of food and a place to sleep for the night could not be honorably
refused. The Hunters would be staying. In the morning, after the Shackling,
Garron would get the full story about how the creature was discovered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Sentinels,
take over the binding. I have already overpowered a Daemon today. I am not at
my full strength," Garron said to the chamber as soon as the Hunters left.
There was no way they could let the Order of the Chase find out how weak he
was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
dozen bindings leapt from the crowd and a murmur ran through them. Most of them
needed to rest for days after Reshackling a Daemon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Take
this creature to the Heart and keep it bound. I will consult the wind and stars
to see if I can find where this creature came from and see if any of its
kindred are awake. The spirits of the wind cannot see through the crystal
pillars. We will Shackle it in the morning." Garron could not help but
smile to himself despite everything that was happening. The wind and stars
could only be spoken to in dreams. He would be getting some sleep after all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
leapt from his bed. “Lights,” he shouted. Orbs of light sprang to life at his
command. They were one of the few enchanted artifacts in the entire Carcel. The
Order of the Protector held that such things were too dangerous. Magic did not
belong in the hands of those that could not cast a spell themselves. His tiny
room was sparsely furnished. A bed, a table, a chair; there was nothing to mark
his rank in the room. The only thing that distinguished it from a farmer’s home
was the orbs, the lack of windows, and the shelf full of books.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Some
of the volumes were old and rare; many of them were the last remaining copies
of their respective text. They came from all over the world and had been
gathered slowly over the past nine centuries. But the text he was looking for
had not been written anywhere exotic. In fact it had been written right here in
the Carcel, by the last High Sentinel. Garron sprinted across the room and
jerked one of the larger more ornate volumes off the shelf. An odd looking
fanged creature dominated the cover in shimmering gold etchings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
literally threw open the book, flipping through pages as fast as he could turn
them. He would have punished an apprentice who treated a book in such a manner,
but there was no time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
had entered the dream world and consulted with the wind and stars, and what the
cosmic entities told him frightened him to the core of his being.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Nahl-thenor,”
he whispered out loud when he found the page he was looking for. The page was
an account of Nahl-thenor’s last attempt at escape. The Daemon he had struggled
against before had nearly escaped under the last High Sentinel’s watch. The
creature had released dark magic in the forest near Lowfort. A party sent to
investigate had found almost nothing, just a small patch of forest were the
balance of nature had been corrupted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Everything
became clear to Garron. The powerful Daemon could touch the world but could not
force his way past the High Sentinel. So instead of trying, he released his
power into the world, knowing it would corrupt the balance of the world. And
when nature reset the balance and thrust off the darkness a minor demon was
created. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">This new
creature was nothing more than an extension of Nahl-thenor, and once they were
in the same room… A tremor ran through Garron’s entire body as he reached out
for his magic. Power flowed into him but it was just a tiny trickle where once
there was a raging river.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
threw his robes of office on over his dressing gown and hurried to the hallway
and opened the aged oaken door. The thick shadows of the Carcel filled the
corridor with an almost tangible darkness. The Carcel was silent as a tomb. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
grimaced. The passageways of the Carcel were never completely dark. He
whispered a word of magic and a small orb of light appeared over his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just hours ago, the same spell would have lit
the entire hall. If there had been any doubt before, there was none now.
Nahl-thenor was free, and Garron could no longer use him as a well to draw
magical power from.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
ran through the halls, his footfalls the only sound. The High Sentinel could
not see anything around him, but he could feel eyes staring... Hate filled eyes
that watched his every move. There was no time. The creatures’ fear of the High
Sentinel would soon be overcome by their hatred. If they tried to test him, he
was not sure he would win.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
finally came to the door he was seeking and threw it open. “Harold, Elaina,
Michael, David, Cara, Sara, to arms!” Garron shouted the names of each
apprentice. There was no way to defeat the Daemon on his own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
huge pool of blood cooling on the floor stilled his call to action. Blood was
spattered over everything. Even the ceiling was painted with the crimson
droplets. A pile of mangled flesh lay in the center of the room, the lone hand
thrusting from the center of the pile the only indication that the mass was
anything more than a mound of raw bloody meat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
bent over double and emptied his stomach. He stumbled from the room, wishing he
could burn the sight from his memory. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Something
slammed into Garron’s back knocking him to the ground. A huge heavy body was on
top of Garron. He couldn’t move, couldn’t draw enough breath to use his magic
the massive creature had him at its will.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Douse
the light, quickly you fool,” a harsh voice whispered. Garron let out a gasp of
relief when he recognized the voice of Huntsmaster Gunthar. He flicked his hand
through a mystical motion and they were plunged into darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"The
monster and his minions hunt the halls for the living. Stay quiet and I will guide
you from this tomb," Gunthar ordered. Garron pulled away from the big man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I
am not leaving. This is no Plas-man able to kill fifty hunters. A true Daemon
is loose upon the world. He will free his brothers if he is able. The wells of
magic that remain in this world are few and far between. There would be no
force that could stand against them. We must stop him now, before the other Daemon
are free," Garron said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I
watched the monster kill my entire party and two of your Sentinels as easily as
I could kill a child. He left me alive, toying with me. He did it to another as
well. The one you call Harold is still alive, at least he was. He has probably
fled. I saw the demon's eyes. It longs for the hunt, to give chase. I am
leaving before it can find me," Gunthar replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
turned his back to the Hunter. "Do as you see fit,<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> I</i> will do my duty."<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Ahhcckkk.
You know our ways. I cannot return home and tell my father that a bent back,
soft robe, remembered his honor when I did not. Is there truly a way to defeat
this thing and his minions?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"If
we can make it to the Binding Chamber there is a chance. The Staff of Sentinels
is a well of magic. I may be able to defeat the creature with it,” Garron
replied. He could not help but be pleased his manipulation of the Hunter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Then
let us hurry to this Binding Chamber. Take these." Something was thrust
into Garron's hands. It felt like a pair of spectacles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What
are these?" Garron asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"As
per our agreement of centuries past, the enchanters of the Huntmasters still
use the Carcel as a well to create items of magic. These are growing rare and
are desired by all."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
put the spectacles on and the room sprang into vision. Everything was tinted
crimson but he could see. Garron spun around the taking in the caverns around
him. The spectacles were not perfect — patches of darkness remained on the
ceiling and in the corners of the room — but it was far better than his globe
of light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Thank
you," Garron said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Enough.
We must move. The hunt has begun, the Shadows seek us as their prey. Let us
become the hunters."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Follow
me," Garron replied and rushed down the hall. Garron had barely made it
half the distance to the binding chamber when his lungs started to burn and his
legs ached. Something darted down from the darkness near the ceiling. It
swooped down slicing into the back of Garron's legs. Garron let out a scream,
as razor sharp ice cold darkness sliced into his hamstring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gunthar
leapt forward and a small beam of light shot from his Kalhi to smash into the
piece of living night. The Huntmaster began an odd kind of dance as more and
more of the creatures swept in from the ceiling. But the Hunter continued to
dance and soon Garron felt the magic growing in the Hunter. His turned to stare
at the man in surprise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"They
are drawn to my magic. Hurry, these little birds of prey are not our quarry. I
will lead them away." Garron nodded and rushed forward, forcing himself to
continue running despite his aching lungs and bloody leg. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His
footfalls echoed through the Carcel, the noise mixing with the sound of
Gunthar's battle and his own labored breathing. The sound followed Garron as he
ran through the door into the Heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Four glowing
pillars illuminated the room. Nahl-thenor had not been able to free the other
demons yet. There was still a chance. He stumbled forward and grabbed a hold of
the Staff of Sentinels. He stopped and stared upward. There was a man held to
one of the pillars with magic. The man's body hung half in the shadows half
out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">"Harold-"Garron
began.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Before
he knew what was happening, Garron was hurtled across the room to slam into a
wall. His Spectacles flew across the room, disorienting him further as he
bounced across the room. Somehow he held onto the Staff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hello,"
a dark raspy voice spoke from the darkness. There was something unsettling
about the voice, something that sent a shiver up his spine. Garron lifted his
head to see a huge silhouette outlined by the green glow of the pillars. Even
though he could barely see the creature, he felt fear filling his entire being.
He set himself to fight the emotion; terror was just one of the hundred weapons
in a Daemon's arsenal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Nahl-thenor.
I know you. You will be bound once more!" Garron shouted surging to his
feet. Magical energy slammed into Garron's chest, taking his breath and
throwing him back to the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You
live at pleasure. My servants have killed most of the other inhabitants of this
structure, but I had them save you for me. The Masters of this prison have held
me for over a millennium. Most are beyond my reach. You will suffer for them.
And after many years, when you finally reached the afterlife, you will tell
them tales of such pain that their spirits will be driven mad!"
Nahl-thenor screamed, spittle spraying across the room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
words to the binding spell left Garron's mouth and snaked their way around the
demon. The monster's will pounded into Garron. He had never even imagined such
strength could exist. He dropped to his knees, groaning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Did
you really think you were powerful enough to do anything to me? Do you think I
would have allowed you to live if you had the slightest chance of defeating
me?" The demon laughed again; Garron wondered if his imprisonment had
driven the creature mad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron's
mind reached into the staff to draw forth the power locked within. There was no
way they creature could know about the other Sentinels’ sacrifice. The power of
the staff gave him strength enough to stand and it was Nahl-thenor that was
brought to his knees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron's
will slammed into Nahl-thenor's. They sparred, mental blades slashing against
mental blades, unseen shields stopping invisible attacks. If their battle the
day before had been two Titans warring this was two armies of Titans.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Nahl-thenor
howled in pain as he was thrust backwards towards the crystal pillars. The
green light illuminated the monster's face for just a second. Garron howled in
unison with the monster as the sight burned his eyes. Smoke rose from Garron's
face as his eyes liquefied and ran down his cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
entire world became a thing of darkness, and vile things were born in the
darkness. They slashed and hacked at Garron, claws sliced into his shoulders
and into his back. He screamed, the blood rolling down his body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
could feel the demon rise to his feet even as he fell to his knees. The Daemon
was to powerful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Master,
do not give up. You are winning!" Harold' voice cut through the pain and
the darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Garron
reached into the staff, drawing the last of its power, then he hurled all of it
at the demon. There was a slamming noise, as if someone was shutting a door.
The power within Garron surged; the demon was locked away once more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Master,"
Harold said. Garron's head was resting in the boy's lap. How had he gotten
there? The pain seemed to be fading. He needed the staff. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Accckk.
Sentinel, what have you gone and done to yourself?" Gunthar seemed to be
speaking from far away. His words were labored, as if he was injured, but
Garron could not see how badly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"He
saved us, he saved us all," Harold murmured. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Staff…need
staff…" Garron croaked. He felt the staff thrust into his hands. He
gripped it tightly with both hands, concentrating as best he could. He felt his
power, what remained of it, flow into the staff. He would do his duty in the
next world, just as he had in this one</span>Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-179521810216244712013-08-14T22:47:00.000-07:002013-08-14T22:47:02.400-07:00An Acceptance<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I just got an acceptance letter from Bards & Sages
Quarterly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">WHOOP! WHOOP!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Is it still cool to whoop, whoop? I don't know anymore, at
34 I am starting to find I am past the age of knowing what is cool. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hmmm…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Better question. Was it ever cool to whoop, whoop? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I'll have to look into that…anyway, its time for a short story
update.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">First, I will have a story in the January 2014 issue of
Bards & Sages. The last couple of years it would have been kind of
depressing to get my first story accepted in August. But this year I did not
write my first short story until July so an acceptance letter a month later is
actually pretty good. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With my limited writing time this year with the babies and
school I have been working on novels whenever I get a chance to write. But we
were on vacation for the 4<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> of July and the urge struck me one
night in the hotel room and by the time we got home I had two short stories in
need of editing (which took me another few weeks). The story still in
submission was over 8,000 words long, by far my longest short story. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I tried to approach the idea for that one like I would a
novel, which was something new for me. The last year or so I have been using a
loose outline for novels and discovery writing short stories. We'll see how
this works. For me, short stories are always more about experimenting with
different styles and techniques than the actually story. It was nice to play
around a little with a couple of different styles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Finally, for those of you wondering, yes; I still have a
story I wrote for the last PHP shoot out in submissions somewhere too. I just received
a 249 day rejection, did an edit and found a new place. I have to admit I was
getting a little antsy for a reply on that one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I started this blog to give updates on my writing, both
shorts and novels, and it is nice to actually have something to report other
than "I wrote another chapter this week" or "I am still working
on my novel". Maybe I should write more short stories.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-16285799112083938982013-07-23T00:42:00.000-07:002013-07-23T00:43:16.431-07:00Update PHP and more...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Hey all, thought it might be time for an update. Sorry its
so long between blog posts, with these online classes I write so much for class
that I don't really feel like writing other things most of the time (though I
did find time this summer for two short stories and a few chapters in my latest
novel). I am going to do this bullet point style so I can cover more topics
without wasting time on transitions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Pill Hill Press: If you want Pill Hill Press books you better buy them soon, they will be out of print shortly. The process has begun. Sorry to have dragged our feet for so long. We tried to take them out of print one at a time and had a few distractions. So we just decided to send an email asking that all our books be taken out print. Thanks for being so patient novelists.</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Superman movie: A good action film about a boy from Krypton but it is not Superman, at least not my Superman. Superman doesn't kill. He also tries to save people instead of just talking about saving people. I mean the whole town was burning and...I better stop there, don't want to include spoilers.</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Krypton from the above movie: Awesome! THEY HAVE DRAGONS!</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Having Children: The best.</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">1<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup> Father's Day: Really cool.</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Midterms for the first time in ten years: Not nearly as cool. </span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Babies Learning to walk: AHHHHHHH!</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Babies still not sleeping: Whimper</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Game of Thrones: Whoa</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">$30,000 firework shows: Not bad. I still like lighting them myself though.</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Summer Heat: Humph</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Six page papers on firewalls: More interesting than you would think</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Ipod Touch: More useful than I thought</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The Great and Powerful OZ: Pretty cool, and the only movie our babies have actually stopped playing to watch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Okay that should do it for a little bit. I just noticed I
have neglected to post "lots a pictures" of the kids. What a
neglectful father. Here is one a couple of months old.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sorry for any typos
etc. Its my turn on night time baby watch and I don't think I have enough time
to go back through this post.</span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-roYdH7VvIHvRJFy-tORnDVJmBc0ARpqTlTvbcznqFXZ27aEKbTPxOA-DQfcG1oMRmkozt4hy28oPJq4e4e62N8hP1zNtgz3f-O3trwOO_Y6aSt5BESVMo0MW8vhAFc87y_fupJvag5A/s1600/376925_531870503540305_1010104917_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-roYdH7VvIHvRJFy-tORnDVJmBc0ARpqTlTvbcznqFXZ27aEKbTPxOA-DQfcG1oMRmkozt4hy28oPJq4e4e62N8hP1zNtgz3f-O3trwOO_Y6aSt5BESVMo0MW8vhAFc87y_fupJvag5A/s320/376925_531870503540305_1010104917_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<br />
</div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-89644726113206814382013-06-08T00:56:00.002-07:002013-06-08T00:56:13.348-07:00A Memory of Light Review<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuupdkODsB_yaSpf4aXKc60ZBzIou97N22JqvIsPQ_Kbd9l-fWIfVgxKjOAyJv9Vd4CXHfcyRDYT4L9zsh_PMUszj2dwJqUXg7XkSbGayvxNT823CsZvy0dbht9Wj7WE-Sbmiof5J6xNY/s1600/A_Memory_of_Light_cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuupdkODsB_yaSpf4aXKc60ZBzIou97N22JqvIsPQ_Kbd9l-fWIfVgxKjOAyJv9Vd4CXHfcyRDYT4L9zsh_PMUszj2dwJqUXg7XkSbGayvxNT823CsZvy0dbht9Wj7WE-Sbmiof5J6xNY/s200/A_Memory_of_Light_cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Let me start this post by saying I don't plan
on censoring myself as I talk about the book, so in other words SPOILER ALERT.
Stop reading now if you don't want to find out details of A Memory of Light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">First let me say that I am having a lot of
trouble writing this post. I have been reading The Wheel of Time for twenty
years and having the series end has been an odd mixture of sadness and elation.
One thing I was not counting on when I picked up the book was how much reading
it would remind me of the reading the other books in the series. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">It took me about a week or so to read the book
and every time I sat it down I was forcefully reminded of reading the other
books. I am sure remembering reading TEOTW at my grandma's house, or reading
TGH sitting next to my dad (both of whom have passed away) contributed to the
sadness I was feeling at the end of the series. Not to mention that the
characters in these books have been an active part of my imagination for twenty
fricking years. I knew I was losing something as I finished the story but I was
very excited to do so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Anyway, this book was epic in
its…um…epic-ness. Most of the book was fight scenes, but when you read a book
that is about the last battle between good and evil at the end of the world,
what else do you expect. This was a great example of the kinds of books they
wrote when I was a teenager, that just don't get published any more. Overall I
enjoyed the book.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Everything happened as I thought it would. The
bad ass character showed their badassery and killed like a billion trollocs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Too bad there was five billion trollocs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Eventually the heroes get worn down by sheer
numbers and then characters both big and small start dying by the boat load. Oh,
and to those of you that I had this discussion with before: Rand <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">DID</i> use the Dark One's own power against
it, ah ha! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Okay, okay Rand did not kill the Dark One,
letting Fain take his place…I'll give you that one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">The end was not what I expected but looking
back at the series as a whole I think it was very fitting. My one gripe being
that Rand sneaks off in his new body without letting his friends or his father
know he is alive. I get not advertising the fact that you lived but come on,
Tam deserves to know his boy is still (kind of) alive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">The novel wasn't perfect. There were a few
plot threads that never got tied up. There were a few meetings between
characters I wanted to see that never happened. And why did you have to kill
Bela? That poor horse got dragged all over the world, you could have let the
sad thing have a rest at the end of the series, but no you have to go and kill
it. I mean damn that horse didn't do anything to deserve that I-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">…okay…I'm okay. But Bela? That's messed up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Anyway, it was the Last Battle I was hoping
for though Rand's role was totally not what I was expecting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Brandon Sanderson did a great job bringing
Robert Jordan's series to its conclusion. The writing reminded me a lot of Mr.
Jordan. I am curious how Jordan would have handled the descriptions and the
characters, in my opinion he had a great way of making characters jump off the
page, but after reading this book I think Sanderson might be better at writing
action scenes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I have some thoughts on series as a whole, but
I think I will save that for another post, but until then<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">…it was not the ending. There are no endings,
and never will be endings, to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">an</i> ending.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-91376329762490574612013-06-06T00:46:00.002-07:002013-06-06T00:46:46.673-07:00Update<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It has been awhile since my last post so I thought I'd write
an update for you all. First I want to apologize to the PHP authors still
waiting for letters, they are coming. Life has been pretty hectic the last few
months and it keeps getting pushed back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Without being too specific since I didn't ask my family
members if it was okay to talk about them: we had an older family member
diagnosed with cancer, and spent a few weeks in hospitals. The surgery worked
and it is removed. Then we helped another family member move across country to
live in our little town. He decided to open a restaurant and we have been
helping him. I have finished my first three classes for my new degree, and I
have been spending lots of time with the kids. There were also some car and
house issues that had to be taken care of. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The one thing I didn't realize about online school was how
much writing was involved. Term papers, essays, and discussion board replies
have been pretty much all I have written. I think I wrote two chapters in my
current novel since my last post. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can also blame part of my lack of production on my Wheel of
Time reread. What free time I had the last few months has been spent immersing
myself in Robert Jordan's world. I have already started writing a few thoughts
about A Memory of Light that I will post in the next few days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I plan on starting up my writing again this week sometime.</span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-18859146649695855792013-03-11T08:23:00.000-07:002013-03-11T08:23:16.000-07:00Changes & A Writing Update
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am finally feeling better, and just in time. It’s my first
day of school. I have decided to go back to college and get another bachelors
degree. There are a lot more jobs in my area for someone with an IT degree than
there are for someone with an Applied History degree. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I am taking online classes full time through <a href="http://www.bellevue.edu/">Bellevue University</a>,
with the college credits I already have it will take me about a year to get a
new degree, with two babies at home I thought this was the perfect time to
spend a little more time at home. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last semester I took a prerequisite class while I was trying
to decide if I wanted to go back to school. Online classes were a little
different than I remembered. Anyway I thought I would tell everybody why my
blog posts and writing have slowed down a bit, and will probably slow down a
bit more. I will keep writing, but homework will come first.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My writing has been going pretty well. The novel I am
working on is coming along nicely. <a href="http://alvajroberts.blogspot.com/2013/02/intriguing.html">Dynasties and Demagogues actually did help</a>.
It put into words some concepts I had been mulling over. I am not sure it would
be all that helpful to most people but it really did help me.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The one thing I am a little worried about in my novel now is
that my character is too…proficient for lack of a better word. I can see a
rewrite in my future, but for now I finished three chapters in the last three
weeks, though I am not sure I want to count last week, I was so sick I did not
write at all. </span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-88139434049265312622013-03-06T07:23:00.001-08:002013-03-06T07:24:09.707-08:00Hey allI decided to write a blog today because it has been nearly a month since I wrote one. I have just been kind of busy. Right now I am fighting off a potent flu virus so instead of writing something interesting I will leave with this youtube video of Disney's Adentures of the Gummi Bears, it was a childhood stapple of mine and I just found it on youtube. I always feel a little nostolgic when I am sick and I actually sat down and watched four episodes before I realized that I was a grown man sitting on my couch watching over twenty year old cartoons. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/OoC1DaBMkW4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-36635707704415210742013-02-07T18:39:00.000-08:002013-02-07T18:41:47.756-08:00Intriguing<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Today I am feeling a little more optimistic about my
writing than I have in a while. In the last week I have gotten two requests for
partials from editors, one for Kingdom of the Dead, and one for The Lion of
Solkara. Now this doesn’t mean that either book is going to be published, it
just means that someone read the synopsis, and in one case a few chapters, and they
wanted to read more.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It is a nice feeling. Progress on my latest novel
has been pretty slow, and this kind of makes up for it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Why has progress been so slow?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Without getting into too many details, I have
decided to push myself a little and try something I haven’t done before. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My latest novel is set in a world full of political
intrigue. Twice now I have tied the story into such a knot I couldn’t unravel
it, and had to start over.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">After that, I
had the idea of basing some of the intrigue in the story on actual events which
happened in the Roman Empire, only to be told by an alpha reader that those
parts where “unbelievable” and “could never happen in real life”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I searched the internet for some writing tips and
found a few, but I am still trying to figure out exactly how to do this a)
without putting in an overload of extraneous information into the story b) in a believable
manner c) with enough twists and turns to make it interesting. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I just order <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Dynasties-Demagogues-Penumbra-Chris-Aylott/dp/1589780337/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1360289914&sr=8-1&keywords=dynasties+and+demagogues\">Dynasties and Demagogues</a>, a role
playing manual. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcxCvl510iWeOw8ahAZjHZ-v2W3yGII2CGc4vRosqeSlOpggGcVuT1sbUu0LLZ5ICzUbTJH6LscGjF9Zbs0Qdz8AVib0RdLlvG8C1NT6sI21ObfNKRFCaK2F2DCfKT2gIAmSxiat6Avk/s1600/517DDNA5F3L__BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcxCvl510iWeOw8ahAZjHZ-v2W3yGII2CGc4vRosqeSlOpggGcVuT1sbUu0LLZ5ICzUbTJH6LscGjF9Zbs0Qdz8AVib0RdLlvG8C1NT6sI21ObfNKRFCaK2F2DCfKT2gIAmSxiat6Avk/s1600/517DDNA5F3L__BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" height="200" width="148" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>Item Description</strong>: <span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>Rulers
make history -- Dynasties and Demagogues helps you make some history of
your own with an in-depth look at the hidden rules of political intrigue and
power brokering. Players are challenged to unravel the schemes of duplicitous
enemies and allies alike as part of their characters' own rise to power. And
for GMs, Dynasties and Demagogues affords a close look at the
nitty-gritty of political campaigns fraught with plots and counter-plots,
assassinations, duels, and changing allegiances, all tied together in an
intricate web of power relations.</em></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ll let you know if it helps. I haven’t played
D&D since college but I remember being the DM was pretty much just writing
a story, which is why I liked doing it so much. Hopefully it is the secret ingredient
that helps me “get it”.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The one saving grace that will make the novel a
little easier is that most of the intrigue is going to be taking place in the
background. And my main character’s arc has him moving away from his life embroiled
in political intrigue. We’ll see how it goes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">If anyone has any tips, please leave them in the
comments.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-42852279388284691952013-01-24T09:04:00.002-08:002013-01-24T15:31:30.083-08:00Starting/Running A Small Press<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I promised a post about starting/running a small
press, but I couldn’t figure out how I wanted to format it, as bulleted tips,
as a story, in essay format, epic poem, and so on. I have finally decided to
throw it out there as jumbled mess, question-and-answer-stream-of-consciousness
pile and let you sort it out, but I did add a bunch of pictures so that it looks pretty.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg698iI2_Z7L_2b8KJ1p2Kkkiq-344QL56sDjTjsz-A-5JHqfawP-xMZpJ7rNvD_GZpdzKjJyo3jcgYSjlU9A6eDF3ACDRwAJqKmnEQqnMSd0DQDV3TdY0olXiWDn0mRo6ln8-JlR7yQs/s1600/Publication1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg698iI2_Z7L_2b8KJ1p2Kkkiq-344QL56sDjTjsz-A-5JHqfawP-xMZpJ7rNvD_GZpdzKjJyo3jcgYSjlU9A6eDF3ACDRwAJqKmnEQqnMSd0DQDV3TdY0olXiWDn0mRo6ln8-JlR7yQs/s1600/Publication1.jpg" height="80" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p>
</o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>Who
to use as printer?</strong></span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> There are really only two choices.
<a href="https://www.createspace.com/pub/l/books_free5.do?rewrite=true&ref=1159204&utm_id=6029">Create Space</a> and <a href="http://www1.lightningsource.com/">Lightning Source</a>. We went with lighting source, the books are
higher quality and they have more distribution channels. You do need adobe
illustrator or another graphic design program for the covers. Note: Things might have changed. It was a few years ago when we weighed the pros and cons of the two. You might want to do the same.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>Adobe
Illustrator? Whew, that’s expensive:</strong></span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yes, a new version is.
And it takes a while to learn. Fortunately, I had taken some graphic design classes
in school and we found a copy of illustrator 9 on ebay for $60. Then we used
the profits from the first books to buy CS5 including illustrator, photoshop
and adobe indesign. Indesign makes formatting books soooooo much easier once
you get the hang of the program. Heck, it’s what most of the big publishing
houses use. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Illustrator eventually paid for itself. I did a lot
of work for other small presses: formatting covers for lightning source,
creating ads, making bookmarks, etc. $10-$50 a project really added up after
awhile. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEl8QtAa_zye_kvfOW9eF6shBfMmxzkduUu-GZdS0Ab5SOBZR_qxvUZblbXRLYeezUhmoD7VWUX7VBvwsbIDXf6j4ROIGyuaj5cS1r7vGJmly2a3ldiiLenZqgouNIHVxUAga9Bw5Qkow/s1600/Publication1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEl8QtAa_zye_kvfOW9eF6shBfMmxzkduUu-GZdS0Ab5SOBZR_qxvUZblbXRLYeezUhmoD7VWUX7VBvwsbIDXf6j4ROIGyuaj5cS1r7vGJmly2a3ldiiLenZqgouNIHVxUAga9Bw5Qkow/s1600/Publication1.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>Where
did you get cover art?</strong> </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://forum.deviantart.com/jobs/services/">Lurk here</a> until you find an artist you like, that is in your price range. Also you could
always try <a href="http://www.bigstockphoto.com/?gclid=CJrhv6u7gbUCFawWMgodaGwALQ">big stock photo</a> or <a href="http://www.dreamstime.com/">dreamstime</a>. We used stock art on our first few
books since we didn’t know where to find an artist. You can get some nice
covers with stock art, check out the mock up I did for the first issue of Dark
Things: Horror Magazine, that sadly never got published. I think it came out pretty well. And no those articles
and author names are not real, I was just seeing how the text would look.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7u43wL9SiBNVFYdh-VOGjqBzfnERlAl-Kg2Hnl2CXDhPavr5elwnrES7QGb236zxZAAODK-tcE-BbztRh2xeti0iejgoZ7gdp8wo-cg7lB5xF4p1iCTY0trDZL1zeQ0joBitGBDXgeNE/s1600/dark-things-quarterly-template.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7u43wL9SiBNVFYdh-VOGjqBzfnERlAl-Kg2Hnl2CXDhPavr5elwnrES7QGb236zxZAAODK-tcE-BbztRh2xeti0iejgoZ7gdp8wo-cg7lB5xF4p1iCTY0trDZL1zeQ0joBitGBDXgeNE/s1600/dark-things-quarterly-template.jpg" height="320" width="226" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>Personal
rejection letters?</strong> </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Just say no to them. We tried it and got
some very angry people. Some people can’t take criticism. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>Website?</strong>
</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We
used <a href="http://www.weebly.com/">weebly</a>, it’s a pretty easy way to create a website and then you can
purchase your own domain name.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>Advertising?</strong>
</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">This
is a hard one. We tried a lot of things, and it seemed like what worked for one
book did not work for another. What makes a book sell over 1000 copies when
another book (that I personally liked better) sold less than 50. It’s weird. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">For anthologies it is totally based on the authors.
If you get 16-30 people all telling their friends what great a book it is, going
to cons, talking it up on the internet then you will have pretty good sales. If
you fill the book with authors who are like “that’s awesome” and throw the book
on their stack of contributors’ copies and never think of the book again, then
sales are not good. On the other hand having a book filled with first timers
would probably be bad too. I think the best formula for an anthology (when you
can’t spend tons of money getting famous authors) is to get one or two
recognizable names, one or two newbies and then the rest somewhere in between.
Of course we never tried following any formulas, we just picked the stories we
liked best, but I think that this formula would work. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Book reviews
are nice, but they don’t create a buzz. People have to start the buzz, and then the
reviews will make the chatter louder.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Novels were a bit different. Reviews did help, sometimes.
Authors promoting their own work helped, sometimes. Advertising in magazines
did not work. We contacted local television, radio, and newspapers near all of
the novelist’s homes and only received a positive response once, from a public
television show. The author balked at the idea and wouldn’t do it, despite the
fact that we checked with the author <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>first, so I am not sure if they work. Some
Podcasts helped, sometimes. We did notice a difference when some authors went
to cons, sometimes. Postcards worked…sometimes. Hmmm…I guess the same thing
never worked twice. Don’t know what to tell you here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ6QKBA8FUm8xEWefLXkW-otyk213J9jV51P_MhlZ-aUQdXNeheuCLuwBNPqLs8-gC7OZeJAQEo5jg8xwQsfoibaExf8LiihANQMCEQKIIeIAeYj4P-6DxmxqurCF4I77e2ON5fwfu7MU/s1600/KindleLogo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ6QKBA8FUm8xEWefLXkW-otyk213J9jV51P_MhlZ-aUQdXNeheuCLuwBNPqLs8-gC7OZeJAQEo5jg8xwQsfoibaExf8LiihANQMCEQKIIeIAeYj4P-6DxmxqurCF4I77e2ON5fwfu7MU/s1600/KindleLogo.png" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>To
Kindle or Not To Kindle?</strong> </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We had a few months when kindle
sales beat out print sales, but for the most part print sales were better. But
kindle and nook sales can certainly give you a boost. It did seem like sci-fi
sold better on kindle than in print. Fantasy sold better in print. Horror was
split down the middle. Anyway, ebooks are definitely worth doing. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>Help?</strong>
</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Our
business was a family run operation. But we did talk to our local college and
could have gotten an intern at some point. We would have had to pay
$3/hour, not bad for a little help. </span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>Forum?</strong>
</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I
loved the forum. I wish I could have been a little better about keeping up with
it. It was nice to have a community of writers to throw ideas off of, or
discuss writing topics. Other writing forums I have tried come with an
overabundance of snark, which we tried to keep to a minimum. We got a lot of
emails thanking us for the forum. Getting members wasn't too hard, we just gave away some free stuff and bam, instant community.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>How
to deal with detractors?</strong></span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> No matter what you do, someone won’t
like it. If you start a small press you will eventually get some hate mail. On the internet people say whatever they want, things they really wouldn't say in person. We have gotten hate mail about pay
rates, rejection letters, our covers, our website, our logo, and even the
wording in our calls for submission. For the most part we ignored it.
Occasionally, if somebody was waaay out of line we would send out an email to
other small presses telling them that the person was hard to work with. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But
usually, it was best just to look at the submission cue and see all the familiar
names. Then it was easy to see that we also had a lot of supporters. In the end it was really easy to see, with the dozens of emails thanking us and wishing us well. Thanks to everyone for that.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">That’s everything I can think of. If you have
any questions feel free to use the contact form or post in the comments. </span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-11571712785556819142013-01-21T16:20:00.001-08:002013-01-21T18:37:25.379-08:00Pill Hill Press Closes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://hauntjaunts.net/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/Pill-Hill-Logo-JPEG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://hauntjaunts.net/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/Pill-Hill-Logo-JPEG.jpg" height="175" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I just had to do something pretty hard. Last night, my wife
came to a tear soaked decision to close her small press, Pill Hill Press. Being
the person she is, she tried to immediately post on her website and ended up deleting
it (which has happened before, it has always been easy enough to recreate with
weebly, she just didn’t see the point this time) and then she tried to find out
how to delete her forum and ended up deleting her account.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">So as the last administrator of the forum it fell to me to
send out the mass email telling everyone the PHP was closing. Jessy just did
not feel she could give the PHP the time it deserved. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Here is what I wrote:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I’m
afraid I have some unpleasant news. Jessy was going to write this, but she has
accidentally deleted her account. We have decided to close PHP. Jessy has been
trying to go back to work for the past few weeks and, with the babies she
cannot give Pill Hill or the authors’ creations the time, attention, and love
they deserve. All short stories currently in submissions are returned to the
authors. All rights on unpublished books revert back to the author. Authors who
are currently getting royalty statements will be getting a snail mail letter
about rights, etc. </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The
website is down, and we are contacting lefora about closing the forum.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">This
decision did not come without a few tears. We have truly enjoyed working with
all of you, and have met some wonderful people, some of whom I consider to be
friends. Thank you for sharing your creations with us, the glimpses into your
imaginations have been entertaining, thought provoking, wondrous, and at times
a little scary. It has been a privilege to work with all of you.</span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">All
our best,</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Alva J
Roberts</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Pill Hill
Press</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></i> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I
feel a little sad about it, but I understand. She could not work and take care of the kids, she has been trying and it is driving her crazy.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"></span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Pill Hill was making money, but it wasn't <em>MAKING MONEY. </em>To continue with PHP Jessy would have had to hire a babysitter or day care. She would be working to pay for childcare and a little spending money (some months). It just didn't make sense. But still I am feeling kind of sad about the whole thing. Who knows, maybe when the kids start school Jessy will reopen. We still have quite a few ISBNs and all the knowledge and equipment to do it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"></span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Over the next week or so I will probably post a few blogs about
starting and running a small press before I start forgetting a lot of details.</span> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-3218667129968935242013-01-07T08:39:00.001-08:002013-01-07T08:39:32.108-08:00Writing Tips: Let's Talk About Sex<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Happy belated new year everyone!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Sorry to take so long between posts, I had a ton of posts I
was going to write, one about preparing for Christmas, one about new years, one
about my current writing project, one about fantasy football (I won two of my
leagues!), I had other ones about football, about the Huskers, the Minnesota
Vikings, but it all ended up being put to the side because of the holidays and familial
obligations. I will say my current novel is going really well when I find time
to write. But let’s get onto the main topic: SEX</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">In particular I am talking about sex scenes. Scenes where
your characters get intimate can be really hard to write, but sometimes they
need to be written. I decided to do some research to figure out the best way to
write them, and I am pretty happy with my results. Here are six rules I have
garnered in my research into the subject.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Know your audience/know your genre. Treat it
like you do other aspects of writing for your audience. This goes back to being
well read in your genre. What are other bestselling authors doing? For example
I have yet to read an epic fantasy that talks about “throbbing members”. When
you finally get published your editor will probably weigh in on the matter.
Remember they are the expert in what sells in your genre, and give their suggestions
a try.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Write what you are comfortable with. If writing
this kind of stuff makes you totally uncomfortable then it will show in your
writing, and do your best to avoid it.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Avoid crude terms whenever possible. Try to use
metaphors, flowery terms, etc. to describe what is going on. Consider these two
lines “he stuck his dong in her va-jay-jay” or “he entered her womanhood”. Neither
is a great example but which is going to be less distracting?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Use the same rules you would for a fight scene.
This one may sound weird but I have a few rules that I use when I am writing a
fight scene that transition to love scenes pretty well. First do not give a
play by play. This will get boring and tedious to read after awhile, plus with
a love scene it will start to sound a little silly. “He felt his passion
building…” can replace an entire paragraph of the love scene play by play. The
second fight scene rule I have is that the fight should be more than just a
fight. It should develop the characters and/or advance the plot and/or resolve
a conflict and/or add a whole new conflict to the story. This is important for
love scenes too. Don’t just have sex in the book to have it in the book. Make
sure it advances the story. Your readers are pretty smart people and they will
be able to tell if you just add a love scene in to spice things up.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Make sure the scene reflects your character. The
Joker from Batman is not going to have the same love scene as Romeo from Romeo
and Juliet. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">6.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heterosexual<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>characters who have anal sex are villains.
This one kind of surprised me but apparently it is pretty standard. Like the
good guys wearing white hats in westerns. I have heard this from a number of
romance novel readers. Which makes me thinks those romance novels might be more
interesting than I ever gave them credit for. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The way this works out, at least for me (and remember I am
writing epic fantasy intended for an adult audience) is that I write the begining
of the scene, a little kissing, touching, etc. and then break away. I do this
for a few reasons: Fantasy, at least what I read, tends to avoid explicit love
scenes, in fact most of the books I read break away a little earlier than
I do. I stick with it a little longer than other authors because I want to make
sure the readers get a feel for what is happening, is it angry, is it loving,
is it exciting, is it funny, sex can be all of those things in real life and I feel
that a reader should know the mood of the scene, but getting really explicit
will not advance the story in better than what I am writing. If you have any tips for love scenes leave them in the comments below. Please try to keep it PG-13 or cleaner.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-76706512666656426602012-12-06T14:14:00.002-08:002012-12-06T14:14:46.145-08:00Free Fiction - Broken Coven<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Today I have some free fiction for you. The story has been languishing
in publication purgatory for awhile now. I wrote it back in 2009 and it has
been accepted for publication twice and twice the magazines or anthologies went
belly up before publication. It was kind of fun to read through it again, I can
see that I know a lot more about story telling than I did then. This one relies
heavily on action scenes to carry the story, I think I am a little creating a plot now, but it is a fun story. Anyway I’ll let you guys decide. Happy Reading!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><strong>Broken Coven</strong></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">By Alva J.
Roberts</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The world was a wasted, burning Hell. The asphalt streets were cracked
and pitted, the buildings burnt out husks that stretched like skeletal fingers
toward the blackened sky. Ash formed thick grey clouds that blotted out the sun
and fell like snow to cover the wasted landscape. Bodies lay strewn about the
street, barely visible beneath the ash. Death had come quickly, most still lay
where they had been standing, dying unaware of their impending doom. The fires
flared brighter and brighter until they engulfed everything within sight.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan sat up with a start, cold sweat pouring down her face,
plastering her long shimmering black hair to her forehead. Sometimes being a
witch was not all it was cracked up to be. Dreams of the future were all well
and good, until you dreamed of the end of the world.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Her hand reached over to the nightstand, flicking on the table lamp.
Her fingers dialed a number on her cell phone, seemingly of their own accord.
No answer. She dialed again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“This better be important! God! It’s three in the morning.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Madelyn, it’s time. Meet me at the house,” Morgan said, hanging up the
phone. Maddy would know what it meant. They had not spoken for almost a
century. There was only one reason she would call.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan dressed in faded blue jeans and a black t-shirt. She went to the
closet and pulled out a small duffle bag. She dumped its contents, her gym
clothes, onto the floor and filled the bag with items from the large chest that
sat at the foot of her bed. Potions and items of magic quickly filled the bag.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">She wished the bag could carry more but her days of altering the fabric
of reality were nearly over. Her power was barely strong enough to keep her
youthful appearance. She had little to spare for other things. A shiver ran
down her spine. Her power had to be sufficient. She was the only one who could
stop the coming cataclysm. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">She took a long, deep breath to steady her nerves before leaving her
small apartment. After more than a thousand years of life, she should have been
ready for death, but fear churned in her belly and brought bile to her throat.
But if you didn’t let fear overwhelm you, you could use it; bend it to your
will. Fear could enhance your senses and keep you alive when nothing else
would.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan hurried down the hall of her apartment building. The elevator
seemed to take forever to reach her floor and the ride down to the lobby even
longer. The bottom floor of the apartment complex was thankfully empty, she
needed no prying eyes. There was no doubt that an onlooker would have seen her
for what she was, a woman preparing for war.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan hurried down the street. There was no parking in front of her
apartment complex. She had to park her car over a block away, near where a
group of disheveled looking men lounged on the corner. The raw pungent smell of
whiskey and unwashed flesh hung thick in the air near the men.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Hey lady, you got any change?” A rough voice called out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“No,” Morgan replied, without looking at the man. She didn’t have time
for this. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Maybe you got something else for me then?” The man focused a leering
smile on Morgan. “You’re the prettiest lady I seen in a long, long time. If I
can’t get no bread, maybe I can get a little sugar.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The large man moved toward her. He wore stained dirty blue jeans and a
thick brown coat that looked as if it had been salvaged from a garbage can. To
most women he would have been an imposing sight on a dark street at three in
the morning.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan sighed. She had been dealing with bandits and outlaws for a very
long time. Humanity had not changed a bit in all her centuries of life. Oh,
they had advanced technologically, but at their core they were still animals,
barely more than the viscously cruel apes that had evolved into an apex
predator in the jungles of Africa. There advancement had only brought all new
levels of barbarism. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“I do not have time for your impertinence. You will sleep now! May
nightmares haunt your dreams,” she hissed. An eerie green light illuminated the
corner for just a second, a by-product of using her power. Magic bent the light
around it causing colored light, every witches magic bent light into a
different spectrum of color.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“I will sleep now,” the man repeated in a stunned monotone. He dropped
to the ground, asleep before he hit the pavement. The other men stared at her
in wary fear, like wolves who suddenly found the deer they were hunting was a
lion.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan pulled out her keys as she stepped over the man’s prone form,
clicking the remote start on her keychain. It was a chilly fall night. It would
be nice to let the car warm up for a bit before she climbed in. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">An explosion thundered through the parking lot, echoing off the nearby
buildings. A ball of fire blossomed upward, appearing where her car had once
been. The force of the blast knocked her off her feet. The men sprinted away;
they wanted no part of what was to come.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan rose slowly, watching as her car burned in the crisp air. She
had expected an attack, but not a car bomb. It was unlike Maeve to use such
mundane tactics. She was going to have to take a cab.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">She pulled her cell phone from her purse and called a Taxi Service. The
man on the other end of the line spoke in accented broken English, but she
thought he seemed where to pick her up. Hopefully he really did what a bitter
irony it would be if the world ended due to a language barrier.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">A sharp pain tore through her shoulder. Her cell phone fell from
nerveless fingers as her hand darted to the ache. The fingers came away covered
in warm, sticky blood. Wispy tendrils of steam rose off the crimson fluid in
the cold air.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Hey, Morgan. That was a warning shot, for all the good times we
shared. Go home! Just leave it alone,” a strange, vibrating voice urged.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">She turned to look at the speaker. He was a short figure in a long
trench coat. He held a ball of what looked like needles. Morgan knew that he
was holding the end of his tail, and that he could fire those needles just like
a gun. What little of his skin she could see was red and covered in scales.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Maeve sent one of her experiments to deal with me,” Morgan said. She
was offended. Did Maeve really think she was that weak?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“You know I don’t like to be called an experiment. I got a name.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“I know, Bobby. I helped make you. She didn’t even tell you why she
sent you out, did she? It doesn’t matter. You should have left when I did.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Flickering green light flooded the area as fire erupted from the
street.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Bobby screamed as the fire crawled up his long trench coat, he let go
of his tail trying to beat out the flames. The smell of burnt flesh filled the
air. Morgan felt some the tension drain from her shoulders. With his hands off
his tail he would not be able to fire the deadly projectiles. He fell to the
ground, smoke rising from his still form.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“I’m sorry, Bobby,” Morgan said. A wave of guilt assaulted her. Bobby
was little more than a slave and in a way Morgan was his mother. She and Maeve
had created the little man for protection during the Inquisition. It did not
seem right; Bobby’s reward for centuries of service was painful agonizing death.
She shook her head, trying to shake away the feeling. There was no time for
guilt or sadness.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">She needed to get to the house. If Maeve sent Bobby there would be
others coming and not all could be so easily dealt with. She reached into her
duffle bag and pulled out a bottle of thick, red liquid.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">She swallowed the foul tasting concoction in a single gulp. The pain in
her shoulder vanished. There was on odd tingle as her flesh knit itself back
together.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was her last healing potion,
she should have brewed more. But she hadn’t known the world was ending.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Hey! What happened to that guy? I’ll call 911 you check for a pulse,”
the cab driver yelled from an open window. She had not seen the car pull up.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Stop! You have seen nothing. You will drive me,” Morgan called out,
using her magic. Green light engulfed the cab driver as her enchantment flowed
over him. A crippling wave of dizziness slammed into her, she stumbled and
leaned against the nearby light pole. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">She was using too much of her power. It had been years since she used
so much magic.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“I have seen nothing. I will drive you,” the driver said in a cold,
hollow voice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan climbed into the backseat of the black sedan, grateful to be
sitting down. She felt weaker than she had in centuries. She had to keep going,
but her body protested, demanding a large meal, a warm bath, and soft bed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Where we headed?” the man asked cheerfully, unaware of the smoking
remains a few feet from his car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Almost an hour later the Taxi turned onto a rural road, the lights of
the city far behind. Trees cloaked the landscape in thick foliage and menacing
shadows. They had made sure that the House was far from prying eyes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“How much farther?” the driver asked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Not far.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“You better be able to pay for this.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“You will be more than adequately compensated. Just drive.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The driver grunted a noncommittal reply. Morgan was feeling a little
better. The car ride had provided her with a short rest. Morgan would need all
the power she could muster. Confronting Maeve would not be an easy task; she
had always been the strong one.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">A loud thunking noise reverberated through the car as something struck
the roof. There was another noise against the passenger side door, then the
fender.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“What the Hell is that?” the driver asked, slowing the vehicle.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Do not stop. If you value your life do not stop.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“You threaten me? I been driving for twenty years! You think a hundred
pounds of nothing, like you, is going to scare me? I got to see what that was.
We better be close to where you’re going, cause you’re getting out real soon.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Don’t-”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Shut up,” the driver, said. “You don’t like it you can call my boss
and tell him I told you so. This car gets hurt and it comes out of my check.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The car pulled to the side of the road. The emergency lights flashed,
filling the night with a harsh red glow. Morgan watched him, knowing what was
going to happen, but unable to tear her eyes away.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The driver made it two steps before his blood sprayed through the night
air to splatter against the windshield of the car. His head rolled slowly down
the rural highway, bouncing along like some kind of strange ball.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan threw herself over the seat and jerked the car into gear. She
steered awkwardly as he pulled her body into the driver’s seat. The engine
roared as she mashed the gas pedal to the floor. A cloud of dirt flew high into
the air, flung upward by the spinning tires.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">A small shape smashed into the window next to Morgan. A spider web of
cracks spread from the impact.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Damn it!” Morgan yelled. She had hoped Maeve’s creatures would not
find her. It was too much to ask.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Rocks pelted the car, a hailstorm of granite and limestone. Long,
slender blades thrust their way through the roof of the car. Morgan saw long
furry tails and black feathered wings flash through the beam of the headlights
as she sped forward. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Flying monkeys. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">With swords. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan shook her head wanting to laugh out loud, but she was worried
that her laughter might have a hysterical edge. Maeve had never had an original
thought in all her long years of life, but that did not make the creatures in
less deadly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The car shimmed from side to side as it sped faster. The airborne
simians had not been breed for swiftness. They fell behind, becoming small dots
of brown in her rearview mirror.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">A giant man-shaped figure stood in the middle of the road. Morgan could
not stop the black sedan before it barreled into the shape, spinning out of
control. Morgan’s head smashed into the cracked driver’s side window. Shards of
broken glass showered outward. Blood ran down her temple and the world went
black.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">***</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan’s eyes fluttered back
open to the loud sound of crushing metal. A massive ten-foot tall man with the
head of a bull smashed his fist into the hood of the car, denting the metal
like a sledgehammer.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The monster smashed its fist into the hood again. Morgan gathered her
thoughts, concentrating. She needed to act fast before the dumb beast realized
it was her and not the car that hurt it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Green light enveloped the beast. Frost formed along its arms and legs,
growing thicker and thicker until the creature was encased in a solid block of
ice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan stepped from the car and glanced around. The small stream and
surrounding hills looked familiar. The last time she was here, over a century
ago, there had been a small village. She was not far from the House. It was not
by happenstance that the city had grown miles away. They couldn’t have that
many people so close.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Memories of her life here came back to Morgan. She always tried to
forget the places she lived, and the people she once knew. Remembering made it
hard to move on. She had friends in the village, and even for a brief while, a
husband. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan fought off the urge to sink into memory. She glanced around
noticing the faint red light that could barely be seen. Maeve was growing more
subtle in her golden years, in years past she would have never set the magical
trap. She had always preferred sheet blunt force to the more delicate forms of
attack. Morgan would have to be careful.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">She reached into her duffle bag and pulled out a long belt wrapping it
around her midsection. The artifact would protect her from certain spells. A
small revolver went into the waistband of her jeans. The final item was a long
cane made of oak. Runes of power were carved deep into the aged wood.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">She crept through the forest all her senses aware of the world around
her. If Maeve cast a spell of memory then the next attack could be almost
anything. But no attack came, instead Morgan spotted the tell tale glow of fire
light.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The orange-red light of a gigantic bonfire loomed before her as she left
the woods. Morgan could see the House silhouetted by the fire. Her former home
had been ravaged by time. The roof had collapsed. The walls leaned inward,
ready to follow the roof. Jagged, splintered wood stuck out from the ruins like
teeth. Morgan slithered up next to the house, hiding in the shadows.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Morgan, you might as well come out. Madelyn is already here,” Maeve
said, her voice sounding like crackling leaves.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan stepped from the shadows. Madelyn was hanging from her wrists in
a nearby tree. Her head rested limp against her chest, her face drawn and
haggard. Her chest still rose and fell, but the amount of blood that ran from
her gaping wounds told Morgan she did not have long left to live.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“How sweet to have my dear sisters return to bask in my greatest glory.
Have you two finally made up your differences?” Maeve asked. Her hair was
white, her form hunched and fragile. Deep wrinkles marred her face.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Time has not been kind to you, sister,” Morgan said. It was a petty
insult, but anything Morgan could do to throw Maeve off would be a help.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“I’m not as vain as you and had better uses for my power.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Like ending the world? I know opening the rift will grant you eternal
life, but at what cost? Your mad plans are why we left! Do you really want to
spend eternity on an empty dead planet?” Morgan knew the answer but she needed
to hear her sister say it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Yes!” Maeve screamed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Bright red light flooded the clearing as Maeve used her magic. Fire
surged forward, racing toward Morgan. Morgan held her staff in front of her.
The fire struck Morgan’s thick green shield of protective magic, knocking her
back a few feet.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“You were always the weakest of us. If Madelyn could not withstand my
power, what chance do you think you have?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan fell to her knees; her only reply was a muffled grunt. Maeve was
right. There was no way she could overpower her elder sister with magic. She
struggled forward and nearly fell on her face. Maeve’s magic hammered at her
shield.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“We knew you would do it, that someday you would be able to open the
rift. We waited and planned how to stop you. But it has been for nothing...please
sister…do not kill me,” Morgan said, forcing her voice to sound broken and
defeated.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Perhaps, I will let you live, just long enough to see me triumphant.
It might be nice to have a serving wench to bring me wine as I watch the world
burn.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan crawled closer. She dropped her cane, pulled out the revolver,
and jumped to her feet. Six shots echoed through the night air. With each shot
Morgan took a step forward.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Maeve laughed. “Did you think your insignificant weapon would actually
harm me?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“No,” Morgan yelled, sprinting the last few feet to her sister. Her
shoulder slammed into Maeve’s midsection, a loud gasp escaping the ancient
woman’s mouth as Morgan knocked the wind out of her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Morgan crawled up Maeve’s unmoving body, her hands latched onto her
sister’s throat. She squeezed as hard as she could and slammed Maeve’s
gray-haired head into the ground.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Maeve’s fingers clawed at her arms. Morgan could see the light of
desperation in her eyes. Magic required concentration. The panic that filled
Maeve’s eyes spelled her doom.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Dark bruises formed on the flesh beneath Morgan’s fingers as Maeve’s
struggles weakened. Morgan whimpered as she watched the light fade from her
sister’s eyes. She didn’t let go until long after Maeve stopped moving.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Sobs wracked her body as she stumbled to Madelyn’s hanging form. A
small magical green flamed flared, burning through the ropes that held her
sister.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“Morgan?” Madelyn called out in a weak voice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px 0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">“It’ll be okay, Maddy. Everything’s going to be okay.”</span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-3086000456555230942012-11-29T07:31:00.003-08:002012-11-29T07:32:13.256-08:00Done<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I finished up a major rewrite of Blood Plague last night. It
has a totally different ending, one that fits the story better. It was about a
40,000 word rewrite so it was quite a process. I had to reread what I had a
couple of times to make sure I tied up all the loose ends of subplots, but it’s
done.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Time to put it on a shelf again, and let it sit while I
write something else, and then I will go back and start editing it. I finally
came up with a title and can scrap the working title of Blood Plague, now it
reads The Truth of Iron at the top of the manuscript. In this particular world,
those who are around iron for extended periods of time gain some special
abilities. I am considering a subtitle that does mention plague.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now that I have a 92,000 word monkey off of my back its time
to pick a new project. From my post a few week ago you can see that there are
quite a few partially finished items on my to-do shelf, and I am not sure which
one I will pick to yet. I did read some <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>advice from published authors via the internet
that I am going to consider as I try to pick what I want to do next.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is pretty straight forward and something I should have
thought of before. Authors get pigeon holed depending on what they get
published first. When you are first starting out, write want you want to known
for (in my case fantasy), and then later once you have a few things published,
write a YA novel or a vampire novel. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Setting aside the projects that are not fantasy and the ones
that are more idea than anything concrete narrows my choices to Empire’s End,
The Rising Dark, or Godswar. I am going to have to reread what I have done and then
decide.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I love getting stuff off my to do list.</span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-38097689949980236802012-11-18T00:38:00.003-08:002012-11-18T00:42:05.825-08:00Wheel of Time REREAD<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I got an email today telling me that the last book in the
Wheel of Time series is coming out in January. I can't tell you how excited I
am by this. I have been on the incredible journey through Robert Jordan's world
for my entire adult life. I read the first book in the series back in 1992 when
I was twelve. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This amazing story is told through fourteen books and nearly
four million words. The scope and detail of the series is truly breath taking.
It is one of the major influences on my own writing. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have decided to do a
reread of the entire series (excluding the prequel) before reading the final
book. As I read I plan on posting my thoughts about the series here. Expect to
see them over the next few months, these posts will be filled with spoilers,
just to give you fair warning. So here is the first post on book one <em>The Eye of
the World</em>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3NzxjAnnx20_G06iVdWq74A3L8weIHCptCrKL2hdXjWFHapBMHWeK9bA_9ERIlZ_F9m8j9Jr01-GziXAFXhrq8c9kY8gYopdC9-SEZgDk7bWZflEBjigjW2LHNnHtLPp92-8bPXvV9fw/s1600/eye-of-the-world.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3NzxjAnnx20_G06iVdWq74A3L8weIHCptCrKL2hdXjWFHapBMHWeK9bA_9ERIlZ_F9m8j9Jr01-GziXAFXhrq8c9kY8gYopdC9-SEZgDk7bWZflEBjigjW2LHNnHtLPp92-8bPXvV9fw/s200/eye-of-the-world.jpg" width="130" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am ten chapters into the <em>Eye of the World</em>. I have to say I
still love the way Jordan introduces the characters. It has been twenty years
since my first reading of the books and my tastes have changed quite a bit, but
now I can really appreciate the introductory chapters in a way I didn't before.
Jordan does a great job of showing the character's "normal world"
before tearing it apart around them. I still felt the nervous tension with the
Trolloc attack and the injury to Rand's father. I knew that his father would be
okay, but it still really struck home with me in a way it hadn’t in my original reading.
I am guessing it might have something to do with losing my own father since my
first reading. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is interesting how different scenes are resonating with
me. My own life experience has changed why I like the book, but I am still
enjoying it just as much. One thing I like just as much now as I did back then
is the story of Manetheren. The first time I read the book, I read that little
scene about a dozen times in a row. I usually don't go for characters in a
story telling a story but it really works here. It adds a sense of wonder to
the story, something I think is lacking in my own writing. In my works in the planning stages I am really trying to figure out how to imbue them with a sense of wonder, because it is one of the reasons I love to read fantasy.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lastly I found myself annoyed with Mat and Perrin for
leaving home to travel half-way across the world and saying goodbye to their
parents with a note. Their parents are going to be worried sick, it didn't
bother me when I was twelve, but now I think it makes Mat and Perrin look a
little inconsiderate. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So there's the first 148 pages of the 11,000 page story.
These posts will not always be regular and I think most are going to cover more
chapters, I just wanted to get a good start on my reread project. Until next time: <em>May you always find water and shade...<o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-20549739174981645742012-11-11T22:34:00.000-08:002012-11-11T22:34:31.826-08:00Changes To The "Man Rules"<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Okay, so here is a post to distract you from the super
boring one I just posted so that I could refer back to it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hurt myself yesterday. And it made realize just how much
has changed in my life since I was younger. Injuries use to be something you
could be kind of proud of in a weird way. They gave you a few man points and
you got extra if you pretended like they didn't really hurt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here's a quick list of a few of these so that you see what I
am talking about: Tweaked my back roofing the house, twisted my knee playing
basketball, cut my hand putting in the car stereo, sprained my ankle diving for
a touchdown, sprained my wrist seeing who could put the biggest dent in broken
refrigerator, twisted my neck "car surfing", broke my…well you get
the picture. These are all real injuries I have had in my life. And some of
them were admittedly stupid injuries, that you only get when you’re a drunk 20
year old but you could tell people what happened and you looked like a man – a
stupid man, but a man just the same. You could practically smell the testosterone
just hearing the stories about how they happened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yesterday, I was on the floor playing with the babies and
the phone rang, I stood up weird and sprained my big toe. Sprained my toe
carrying a baby. Hmmm…not a great one to put on my man resume. At least I
pretended like it didn't hurt. Not sure if I still get points for that.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am starting to wonder if the "Man Rules" change as you get older. When I am 100 years old will walking down the hall without breaking a hip get me a couple of points? Hmmm...I need to get an updated rule book.</span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-88260119352433772282012-11-11T21:57:00.000-08:002012-11-11T21:57:18.128-08:00A long boring post about writing projects and goals<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This blog post is a game plan for writing. I am posting it
online because if I just kept it on my computer I would call it something
stupid and generic like List or just hit some random keys like adafd and then I
would delete in a month or so when I couldn't remember what it was anymore. So
you might find this boring but I am going to refer back to it frequently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">See, the problem is that whenever I finish something, I just
start a new project and ignore the huge pile of half-finished novels sitting in
a folder on my desktop, on flash drives, and on my wife's computer. So I am
going to go around find all of my partially finished novels and set up a game
plan and some achievable goals for getting everything done. So I'll be back in
just a sec…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Okay, so I'm done. I have to say I am surprised at just how
much stuff I found. Anyway here are the projects, the current word count, and a
one sentence description. The stuff I found that I can't give a one sentence
description of is going in the recycle bin right now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Blood Plague War- Set in a fantasy land this is
the story of a group of plague survivors who have to learn how to survive once
civilization collapses. I didn't shelve this one, I actually finished it, but
going back through on my first reread I decided that I needed to rewrite the
last 30,000 or so words. The story does not end the way it should. Word count:
About 50,000<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">YA Superhero novel- The story of earth's last
superheroes dealing with an alien occupation of the planet. Originally a YA
nanowrimo novel I lost the flash drive with this one on it. Like BPW above I
have about 30,000 words or so left, and a very clear outline. Word Count:
36,437<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">History of Blood- The first person diary of a
vampire, following his life from prehistoric times to the present. This one
took so much time to research, I kept feeling bogged down. And I was starting
to think it might actually work better as a series of short stories each set in
a different time period.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Current Word
Count: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>23,590<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Godswar- As the gods war in heaven a god his
struck down and falls to earth, forgetting who he is, his power, and the secret
that will stop the war in the heavens. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
got stuck on this one, there is no other way to put it. It was really hard to
find a conflict worthy of the protagonist. I mean what could really pose a
danger to a god except another god? And who many times can you play out that scenario
before it gets stale? About 40,000 words left to write. Current Word Count:
45,694<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">5.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Rising Dark: The story of living darkness
swallowing a fantasy land, and the people trying to stop it. I stopped writing
this one when I watched a movie and read a novel with same plot, within two
weeks of starting it. Sigh, I thought it was such an original idea too. Current
Word Count: 12,489<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">6.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Veil of Embers: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Set in a fantasy world, the story of a volcano
threatening to erupt and the people trying to stop it, who soon discover that
the eruption might not be altogether natural.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I started writing this because I had created a fantasy world for a short
story that I loved and watched a documentary on Pompei in the same week. It
didn't take long to realize that the characters were too weak and one dimensional
to carry the story. Current Word Count: 8,490<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">7.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Well: Set in a fantasy world the story of a
necromancer who must keep a magical artifact from the hands of the invading
barbarians, he soon discovers that the uncivilized tribesmen are not the only
threat to the kingdom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another attempt
at setting a story in that fantasy world I loved. This one got so confusing
that after just three chapters I couldn't keep track of everything, a reader would
just throw it away in frustration. Current Word Count: 9,890<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">8.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Empire's End: The story of various people
effected by a warlord's desire to create an empire. I just kept going down the
wrong path with this one and then gave up. I have a folder of material I cut,
and altogether there is about 30,000 words of stuff I think I will just have to
throw away. Current Word Count: 15,890<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">9.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Everdawn Chronicles: My newest project, just
started last week. It is a little too new to summarize in a sentence. Okay, I
lied it isn’t going in the trash. But two other ones did. Current Word Count:
7698<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Okay there they are nine different
novels that are partially done. Didn't think there would be so many when I
started writing this. I had totally forgotten about a couple of those. Also,
though it is barely started (less than 1000 words in) I want to write an adult
choose your own adventure zombie novel, just for the heck of it. By adult I
mean written for an adult audience not sexy time with zombies (gross).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">TO DO LIST<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Finish Blood Plague: I plotted out
how it should end, just never got around to writing it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Finish the YA superhero novel: It
is a really fun story, and I got to use some of the characters I made for my
Marvel Super Heroes role playing game back in the day. It will be a nice change
of pace, plus again I know what needs to be written. I can probably do some of
the plot stuff below while I am writing it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Reread History of Blood decide if
it should be short stories or a novel. If it is short stories write a few as I
go through the stuff below.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Reread Godswar: Try to figure out
where to go next, I wrote this almost three years ago and the details are a
little hazy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Take the characters from The Well
and put them in Veil of Embers. It should be an almost seamless switch over. Delete
what I have written for both of them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Look over Rising Dark and see if
there is a way I can make it more unique. If I can't it needs to go in the
recycle bin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Write Empire's End<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Write a CYOA zombie novel<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Write Everdawn Chronicles<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wow. That should to keep me busy
for a few years, plus I know I am going to get at least a few new ideas here
and there that I will have to fit in there somewhere. I am going to set my new
writing goal at…hmmm…how about 5000 words a week? That should not be too hard
to keep up and will give me something novel length in about 16 weeks. If I
don't keep up with my goals and my to do list you have full permission to mock
me horribly. After all, ridicule is a great motivator.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-50252518697704793552012-10-28T23:52:00.001-07:002012-10-28T23:52:48.975-07:00Rumble In The Crib<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjivWvu_MYW-CCNYr_9xXQZqCm5S7mf-XhfQDe0p4RQzJkHkrspcmfjVwRoIpExsa_v55gMjv1ETvYzIl9wx4a9KnxiJ2XFS-vYpNUMW1AM2xEeXsBBfEVqmeRw6krliE-aRNfd_CSI3MY/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjivWvu_MYW-CCNYr_9xXQZqCm5S7mf-XhfQDe0p4RQzJkHkrspcmfjVwRoIpExsa_v55gMjv1ETvYzIl9wx4a9KnxiJ2XFS-vYpNUMW1AM2xEeXsBBfEVqmeRw6krliE-aRNfd_CSI3MY/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg" height="207" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Emily "The
Pacifier" Roberts ends the rumble in the crib early in the second round,
when she introduces James "Da Monkey" Roberts to her trademark Binky Buster
left hook.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thought I would just show everyone how I spend my free time,
and how I am using my mediocre photo shop skills. No wonder I don't get as much
writing done as I should.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I posted this
on facebook a few weeks ago, but I did some more touch ups tonight. No babies
were harmed in the making of this photo.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What is actually happening is that both babies are laying on the floor, and my daughter is resting her arm on her brother's chest while he squirms around. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-25871605141809282282012-10-25T11:14:00.001-07:002012-10-27T15:42:09.590-07:00Recharging Your Battery<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was trying to come up with some writing tip to share with you all, this being a blog about writing I thought it would be nice if I did more than give you constant updates on my own projects(just finished chapter 1 of my new project last night). Anyway I was trying come up with something and, as usual when I can’t figure out what to write, I started surfing the net. There are a lot of blogs I need to catch up on so I have plenty of stuff to help me procrastinate. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anyway, I was reading through the blogs and read <a href="http://adarkandstormyblog.blogspot.com/2012/10/down-time.html">this post on D Nathan Hilliard’s Dark and Stormy Blog</a>. In it he talks about how he just finished a project, and how his productivity level seems to have dropped this month. The blog reminded me of something I was talking with some other authors a few months ago, namely recharging your battery. <span style="font-size: x-small;">NOTE: I am not saying this is what is happening with Nate, his post just reminded me of it</span><br />
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Every author I know has had this problem at one point or another. They fly through a novel, some short stories, heck maybe even more than one novel. Then they sit down to write and…nothing. There isn’t anything there. They are drained creatively. </div>
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They need to recharge their battery. It is different for every writer, but they need to stop their “must write everyday” mentality and take a few days, a few weeks, or even a month off. They need to read a book or two (because sadly writing usually cuts into reading time) they need to watch a movie, or see a play. There might be a few people who don’t need to do this, but all of my friends and I find it impossible to be creative in a vacuum. You have to let the creations of others plant seeds in your mind that will grow into new and wonderful things in and of themselves. </div>
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Personally I am trying to work out a schedule where I write and recharge my battery at the same time. Which will pretty much amount to less writing and more time spent enjoying the world around me and the imaginative creations of others, though with two three month olds I am not sure how much of either is going to get done. I mean last night I had an idea for a story about a baby who is a hard nosed detective in a baby land, “sometimes you suck the binky, and sometimes the binky sucks you”. Hmmm…maybe not the best idea I have ever had.</div>
<br />Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-39072679658470666212012-10-23T15:55:00.000-07:002012-10-25T11:15:21.390-07:00Back to Work<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, I am back at work, and back to writing. My first week back I had to go to a Library convention in Omaha. I was hoping to get some writing done at night while I was there, but I was exhausted both nights and just watched TV. It wasn’t a total loss I did see what happens when you give 900 librarians free beer and wine for 2 hours. It was actually a little scary. </div>
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I did write a little when I got back. I wrote the first chapter of a new novel. It was great. It was like stretching a muscle I hadn’t used in awhile. My writing time is drastically reduced right now, I spend about half of my old writing time taking care of the twins, but I have started a novel and will keep on writing, though at this pace it will take me over a year to finish the book.</div>
Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-29244988932807267932012-08-17T13:07:00.000-07:002012-08-17T13:07:12.044-07:00Babies<div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well it has been pretty busy around my house. We have two brand new bundles of joy. I took time off of work to stay home and help with the kids, I am still getting some writing done but I am really busy. I am planning on setting the blog aside for a few weeks until we get some kind of routine going but I thought I would share a couple of pictures. Since taking a break I have had three really good ideas for novels, so good that I might set aside the one I am working on to do one of the new ones. For me plotting takes less BIC (Butt In Chair) time so it is perfect for right now. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But for right now I am mostly just enjoying the kids. Below is the pic we put in the paper with the birth announcement.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowIv5xgXZg-w81ta_FmIyusw-DYMsB1NicpGCBLAVYyHPTy6_7RBiVlR1pLTd5mqEBqrWRSQaYXeVY9c4YFyWpB78tyijbTx82WSIIr1elHe-QU9B8u-5n9ICrfdBaYh0b83_OBp_oB0/s1600/Two+Babies+-+Cropped+from+Orig+for+Newspaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowIv5xgXZg-w81ta_FmIyusw-DYMsB1NicpGCBLAVYyHPTy6_7RBiVlR1pLTd5mqEBqrWRSQaYXeVY9c4YFyWpB78tyijbTx82WSIIr1elHe-QU9B8u-5n9ICrfdBaYh0b83_OBp_oB0/s320/Two+Babies+-+Cropped+from+Orig+for+Newspaper.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And here is my favorite pic, this is my wife when she saw the babies for the first time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNym0uxLnqGmN_x9ZbL0xJJxNC3Qb_Pv2syLvNalcUgfR9GGSuCFQCqxdGmmUcvlg592FhVQDpoVm4frO-biswxi7VGUXigloGXJucbewAoqtrVw-GiTnw1MLw6OHYt92RXa6cIo1Zhsw/s1600/jessyemilyjames.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNym0uxLnqGmN_x9ZbL0xJJxNC3Qb_Pv2syLvNalcUgfR9GGSuCFQCqxdGmmUcvlg592FhVQDpoVm4frO-biswxi7VGUXigloGXJucbewAoqtrVw-GiTnw1MLw6OHYt92RXa6cIo1Zhsw/s320/jessyemilyjames.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-72644208662310076092012-07-26T10:50:00.001-07:002012-07-26T13:15:28.304-07:00Upadate<div style="text-align: justify;">So I wanted to do a blog post, but I did not get enough sleep last night. I find myself unable to be witty, or funny so here is just a quick update, bullet point style. I also don’t feel like rereading this, so there is probably at least one typo, sorry about that:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">• I sent out my witch story Broken Coven to the last publisher on my list. If this one is a rejection I am just going to post the story on the blog. The story has been accepted twice and sent back to me. It has gotten a lot of good feed back in my rejections so maybe some of you will enjoy it, if I end up posting it here. I am still crossing my fingers that it will get published.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">• My writing production dropped drastically during the summer reading program, one of the draw backs of being a children’s librarian. I was so busy during the day that at night I kind of just vegged and watched tv with the wife and played video games after she fell asleep. I am going to try to write more but I am not sure how much time I am going to have considering the item on the next bullet.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">• Finally and most importantly, we had yet another ultra sound and more doctor’s appointments this week. James is measuring 5lbs 15oz and Emily is measuring 5lbs 9oz plus or minus 13oz. This is supposed to be very good size for twins. The doctor set and inducement date if my wife doesn’t go into labor. So by August 7th I will be a father. I am super excited to finally meet my kids. It feels kind of weird considering I am essentially a thirty-three year old child. But that means I should get along pretty well with them. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So there it is. There is a very good chance that the blogs are going to slow down for awhile. I will try to post some pics of the twins after they are born, but I think we are going to be pretty busy trying to figure out how to be parents. I might squeeze in another post or so before August 2nd, if I am feeling particularly writer-ey. </div>Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-40879839169510584502012-07-10T14:23:00.002-07:002012-07-12T08:07:40.501-07:00Rogue Blades Closes & Free Fiction<div style="text-align: justify;">I recently received an email that Rogue Blades Entertainment, a small press publisher, was closing its doors. It is always a sad thing when you see a reputable small press close down. Before I go on with the post, I would like to say best of luck in future endeavors to the owner of the press, Jason Waltz. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, I have the rights back to a story I wrote for his Roar of the Crowd anthology. Roar of the Crowd was an anthology of short stories about deadly games in the ancient world, being a fan of history I had to try my hand when I heard the call for submissions. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The story is called Naumachia Magic, a title which I still don’t like very much. This story has such a specific theme that I don’t really know where to send it for publication, so I have decided publish it on the blog as some free fiction for your reading pleasure. If you don’t know what a Naumchia is don’t worry, we were required to write a nonfiction article explaining our chosen games which I have included at the beginning of the story.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">If you are interested in other stories from the anthology, <a href="http://david-j-west.blogspot.com/2012/06/roar-of-crowd-rip.html">David J West</a> will be releasing his story onto kindle soon. I highly recommend checking it out, I have been impressed with all of David’s writing that I have been lucky enough to read. Slight Warning: The story is a bit over 5000 words, slightly too long for comfortable online reading, but it was written for a print anthology. Without further ado here is Naumachia Magic. Feel free to post ideas for a better title in the comments. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozXvRXs5RkBEFlWOt6NwZOUM0hx4AM1fYlNiXvv9XLs-U_ikZNa-xlK59VDi5bH4jKBITHSEt_mYUJlW29XtdfdsCwHi2K4W-Kdw47oyUKbD5QTAkwXfXduT5ruBokKb1ju3cx_dwxPI/s1600/RotC-public.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img $ca="true" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozXvRXs5RkBEFlWOt6NwZOUM0hx4AM1fYlNiXvv9XLs-U_ikZNa-xlK59VDi5bH4jKBITHSEt_mYUJlW29XtdfdsCwHi2K4W-Kdw47oyUKbD5QTAkwXfXduT5ruBokKb1ju3cx_dwxPI/s320/RotC-public.jpg" width="220" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><h3 style="text-align: center;">Roman Naumachia</h3><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Naumachia is the ancient Greek word meaning “naval combat,” but in ancient Rome the word referred to reenactments of naval combat. These games were rare and costly events, in which thousands would die, and it was considered one of the bloodiest Roman games. Emperors would hold the Naumchia in elaborate displays of their power and their wealth.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The first recorded Naumachia was hosted by Julius Caesar in the year 46 BC. Like most of these events, this one was held in a giant outdoor basin, where nearly 2000 combatants faced off. There are less than a dozen recorded Naumchias, but the presence of Naumchia basins and the bleachers around those basins indicate that they were held more often. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Of the recorded incidents, six took place in amphitheaters. These events were smaller and less costly; thus they were staged at more regular intervals. One of these smaller scale battles was held at the inauguration of the Colosseum in 80 AD. The Naumchia events held in the Colosseum were grand spectacles, despite their smaller size. Stage props were even used to simulate shipwrecks.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Other gladiatorial games would follow the Naumachia inside the Colosseum. Historians and archeologists are still puzzled as to how this was possible. The act of draining and filling the arena so quickly is a mystery. This mystery cannot be solved by looking at the architecture of the Colosseum because it was remodeled in the later days of the empire.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Naumachia did not die with the fall of the Roman Empire. Throughout the history of western Europe, these events were staged by emperors and kings to demonstrate their power. The last recorded Naumachia was held in 1807 by Napoleon. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><h4 style="text-align: center;">Naumachia Magic</h4><h4 style="text-align: center;">By Alva J. Roberts</h4><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The wooden deck beneath Gallus Loreius Fabianus’ feet creaked alarmingly, making Gallus wonder if the ship was going to fall apart. The flat-bottomed trireme was not made for the crystal blue waters of the Mediterranean. It had been built to float for just one single day, and its builders had not been meticulous in its construction.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A noise like thunder shook the boat he was in and echoed through the Colosseum. He glanced up to the tiers of waiting spectators where fifty-thousand men and women stomped their feet, impatient for the spectacle to begin. The Naumachia was a rare event—a man might only see one in a single lifetime—and the crowd howled their excitement. When Gallus killed Quentious Silenus in a tavern brawl, he knew a death penalty awaited him. At the time, he had not realized his death would be nothing more than amusement to the mob. Now he snarled his ineffectual rage at the teaming mass of unwashed bodies. It felt demeaning to have his life reduced to nothing more than an afternoon’s entertainment.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">His angry gaze swept across the burning sands of the Colosseum. Fourteen triremes sat side by side on the arena floor, each ship holding one hundred rowers and one hundred and thirty combatants. Gallus thought the whole thing foolish and a waste of money and wished they had just hanged him and got it over with. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Naumachia was supposed to be a reenactment of naval warfare. How do we reenact a naval battle without any water? Even if they filled the arena with water, the ships were packed so close together that a man could jump from ship to ship. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Massive hunting horns sounded, the loud call echoing through the open air. Emperor Titus Flavius Vespasianus Caesar strode forward onto his upraised balcony. His opulent clothing was in sharp contrast to the strange woman walking beside him. She was head and shoulders taller than the emperor, and from her pale skin and blonde hair, Gallus knew she was from the North, the far North. But he could discern little else, her body buried beneath enough loose fabric to cover three women. A headdress of feathers and bone hid most of her head and face.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Emperor raised his hand for silence and a death-like hush filled the air. A single man, slender and effeminate, walked forward to stand next to the emperor. The man wore a garish mix of the most expensive attire Gallus had ever seen, and as he walked, he unrolled a slim golden scroll. He paused, seeming to enjoy the power he held over the crowd.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Giant gates on the side of the arena opened, and black stagnant water poured across the sands. Gallus felt his vessel rise on the water and took a step to steady himself. Cheers rose, filling the air with a steady roar. The Naumchia was about to begin. But the tanks could only hold so much water, and after a few moments, the steady flow thinned to a trickle.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Today, the Emperor Titus Flavius Vespasianus Caesar welcomes you to the inaugural games dedicated to this new wonder among men that shall henceforth be called the Colosseum! For your amusement, men will be tested with steel and claw. They shall face fires of Hell and the dark emptiness of the ocean's depths!” the slender man shouted.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus nearly laughed out loud. The dark emptiness? The water covering the arena floor was barely three feet deep.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“To open the games, the Emperor Titus is happy to present the Naumachia. Today we shall cut through the veil of time, to the Battle of Mylae! Where our hollowed ancestors defeated the blood-thirsty Carthaginians!” As the man spoke, the woman next to the emperor raised her hands over her head. A glowing halo of power appeared above the heads of the spectators. Small tendrils of light began to drift toward the woman’s open and reaching hands, where they gathered into brightly colored balls of light between her claw-like, twirling fingers. Gallus’ heart skipped a beat as he watched.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Magic!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus looked at the men on the other triremes. They all looked as confused as he felt. He had heard of the Naumachia from his father. The gladiators were always dressed in the arms and armor of the nations they represented and fought until all the men on one side were dead. But all of the warriors Gallus could see were wearing thick leather armor made to resemble the legionnaire lorica segmenta armor of over-lapping steel plates. They all carried the same large shield and a gladius, the renowned short-bladed sword of the Roman army. Gallus recognized the weapon easily after his seven years serving in the 8th Augusta, just as he recognized the cool demeanor and stance of the men next to him. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He would bet money most, if not all, of his fellow gladiators had served in the Legions. But where is the enemy? Who is our enemy? None of the men wore the linothorax armor of an ancient Carthaginian, none carried the iron swords of Carthage.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“We who are about to die salute you!” the men on the other ships yelled. Gallus ignored them, distracted by something strange happening. A thick wall of mist was rising from the stagnant waters of the Colosseum and weaving about the ships. The rows of crowded seats seemed to pull away from the spectacle in the center of the giant theater. It was as if the stone of the arena moved outward until the only thing Gallus saw in any direction was water and mist. He could still hear the catcalls and the applause of the zealous audience, but they were no longer in sight. The last thing to fade was the witch herself. For a moment, it looked as if she flew high above the ocean, orbs of power pulsating in her hands, until she seemingly disappeared as well.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“What in the name of Jupiter is going on?” a man on Gallus’ ship shouted.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus had no answer for either of them other than the biting fear worming its way up his spine. After just a few moments, the fog lifted. His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his head as he took in his surroundings. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">They were on the open sea. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Far to the south, the barest hint of land could be seen, and to east they could see ships. They were approaching fast, the oars rising and falling with a steady rhythm. Gallus counted twenty sails.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“The barbarian fleet approaches!” the slender man’s voice echoed across the empty ocean.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Damn, we need to spread out, get the oars in the water!” Gallus yelled, trying to take command of the ship full of murderers and thieves.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The oars of the Roman trireme flailed through the air, the criminals manning them having had no training or direction. The Roman fleet slowly drifted apart, the current separating them more than the oars that were doing next to nothing. The Carthaginian fleet grew closer and closer, gaining speed. Gallus could see the light glinting off the heavy iron rams at the prows of their ships.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Move! Damn you, move!” he shouted.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A Carthaginian ship slammed into one of the smaller Roman vessels with a horrendous crash. The iron ram shattered the wooden hull, sending shards of broken timber flying through the air. Arrows fell from the sky, burying their iron heads into the decks of the ships and the men who stood upon them. Deafening applause from the invisible spectators filled the air.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Backward! Row backward, toward them. They are stuck together. We can use the corvus!” Gallus commanded, amazed when his orders were actually obeyed. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">With two great strokes of their oars, the Roman's were within the weapon’s range. Gallus ran to the system of pulleys and yanked hard on the release. The corvus was another thing Gallus had thought foolish when the day began. In the tight confines of the arena, it had seemed useless, but now it might be the only thing capable of saving them. The thick iron hinges of the device screeched as the “boarding bridge” dropped down onto the deck of the enemy ship, the iron hooks at the end of the bridge smashing through the deck of the Carthaginian vessel, securing the Romans' entry onto it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Form a line! We must cross to the other ship! We fight for our lives!” Gallus shouted as an arrow whisked by him to sink into the soft wood of the rail.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus drew his gladius as the men rushed to do as he commanded. The bridge was wide enough for five men to walk side by side, and the parapets on either side kept them from falling into the sea. Gallus ran to join one of the lines. He risked a glance at the other Roman vessels and saw three of the triremes already sinking. One of the Carthaginian vessels was in flames, but the rest seemed seaworthy. Gallus hoped the other gladiators knew how the corvus was used. They stood a chance in hand-to-hand combat, but in the open water they would die.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The corvus was one of the most deadly weapons ever created for oceanic warfare. Not because it could kill a foe from a distance, like a bow, or because it could sink a ship, like a heavy iron ram on the prow. The corvus was deadly because it let the Roman Legions onto their enemies’ ship, introducing the unstoppable juggernaut that was the Roman infantry to naval warfare.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Romans fought in neat, orderly lines. Looking at the gladiators' tight formation, Gallus was sure the men were veterans. They fought like the well-oiled machine he remembered from Germania—methodic in their movements, moving inexorably forward, like an unstoppable tidal wave of steel and flesh. When the men in the front line grew tired, the men behind them would take their place. The Carthaginians howled their fury and slashed madly at the Romans, but the Romans fought with a cold, determined light in their eyes that seemed to unman their enemies.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The man in front of Gallus raised his arm, signaling Gallus to move forward. Then he stepped to the side in one swift deft movement. Gallus took a deep, steady breath and marched into the front ranks. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">His shield locked into place in the wall; his short-bladed sword flashed out. The Linothorax armor of pressed linen did nothing to stop the sharpened steel blade from slicing deep into the man facing him. Hot, sticky blood rushed over Gallus’ hand as he wrenched the blade free. He thrust his left arm forward, using his shield to knock another Carthaginian to the ground. His sword darted down to slice through the man’s neck, more Carthaginian blood spraying upward like a fountain.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was just as Gallus remembered; the heat of bodies pressed together, the horrible stench of blood and voided bowels. The sound of steel meeting iron and the screams of the dying formed the terrible music of war. He had spent long hours praying to Jupiter never to hear that ungentle symphony again. Once more he danced to the music of war and left death in his wake. But this was different, for added to the noise of combat he could still hear the roar of the crowd, the man-made thunder of the Coloseum ear-splittingly loud. The spectators shouted encouragement and bellowed their bloodlust, each casualty of the sickening battle increasing their fervor. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus felt sick.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Roman line moved relentlessly forward. The only breaks in their well-ordered ranks were caused by the bodies of the men they had killed. Gallus nearly took a blade through the heart when he tripped over a dead Carthaginian, the only thing saving him a lightning fast movement to the side and an upward thrust of his own sword. The man behind Gallus stepped forward, taking his spot, giving him time to regain his feet.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus jogged to the back of the ranks, his breath coming in heaving gasps. Sweat rolled down his face and neck and his arms felt heavy, like they had lead weights attached to them. He was not the man he had been ten years ago, when he served in the 8th. Years of soft living had taken their toll. He was lucky to have survived his clumsiness. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">For the Carthaginians, luck was running out. The Romans had almost cleared the deck of the enemy soldiers and they had slammed shut and barred the door to the galley, trapping the rowers below. Once they finished dealing with the warriors, they would fire the ship and let the rowers burn. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Across the water, Gallus could see that some of the other ships had followed their lead. Seven of the Roman triremes were fastened to Carthaginian ships by their corvus. Another of the Roman ships was trying to ram a Carthaginian vessel. The other five Roman vessels were sinking below the waves to visit Neptune’s halls. Ten of the enemy ships circled the Roman fleet, arrows and spears filling the air whenever they passed near. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A huge iron-tipped arrow slammed into the deck a few feet from Gallus. He snarled a curse, shouting a warning to the other Roman gladiators. “Ballista!”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">No Carthaginian ship had ever carried the heavy crossbow-like artillery. Whoever they fought were not shades conjured from the past. Gallus was confused, unsure if their foes were real or imagined. The Romans were holding their own, despite their lack of naval combat experience. Hundreds of Carthaginians had fallen to the swords the corvus had allowed the gladiators to bring to bear. But the corvus served another purpose as well, as it stopped the Carthaginians from using their greatest weapon—the huge battering rams on the front of their ships. If the Carthaginians rammed a Roman vessel while it was attached to one of their ships by the corvus, both would sink. The Romans’ needed every advantage they could get.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Fire the ship! Back to our trireme!” Gallus commanded as the last of the enemy soldiers fell.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The men rushed back across the boarding bridge to their own ship. A few of them grabbed torches and lit fires all along the deck of the ship. Gallus turned a deaf ear to the screams of the rowers as they realized their fate. The amphitheater's crowd roared their approval. Gallus tried to ignore them as well.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He was the last one back on board. As they raised the corvus, a fine mist filled the air, and for a moment, Gallus saw the Colosseum. The tiers of seats were a vague outline overlaying the harsh reality of the sea. The Emperor’s witch stood with raised hands, her fingers making strange gestures in the air. Gallus could see the shimmering lines of power flowing to the witch once more, the lines growing thicker as the crowd howled for more blood. The cheering, stomping, rabid horde seemed to fuel the witch’s power. The mist faded and the ocean returned. A Carthaginian vessel was headed straight at them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Prepare for impact!” Gallus shouted, dropping to the deck.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The ship slammed into them, hurtling their own ship backward. Pieces of the hull flew through the air, the shards raining down on Gallus’ head. Three men fell off of the trireme into the vast ocean, their screams drowned by the cheers of the watching mob. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“We’re taking on water!” someone shouted.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus looked at the enemy ship. Carthaginian men with long poles were desperately trying to pry it loose of the Roman vessel. The iron ram had penetrated all the way through the poorly constructed hull of the gladiator ship and had gotten caught.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“If our ship is sinking, then we’ll take theirs!” Gallus yelled, dropping his shield and swinging his sword over his head for effect. He ran to the place where the ships were struck together. The Romans shrieked their approval and chased after him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus reached the edge of the deck and leapt forward, his body landing flat on top of the ram. He pulled himself to a crouching position, nearly losing his gladius, and growled a challenge at the Carthaginians.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hundreds of blood-crazed warriors rushed at him. He stumbled across the slick metal of the ram to land on the deck of the enemy ship…then howled like a beast and rushed forward, meeting their fury with his own.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of the men with the poles tried to hit him with it. Gallus blocked the clumsy blow and spun around, slicing his sword through the man’s neck.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">More of the Romans made their way aboard. Most were cut down in seconds, but some began to form a line near the starboard rail. Gallus charged through the Carthaginians, his sword drinking in their blood like a starved child suddenly confronted with a feast. He thrust the blade deep into one man’s stomach, and then dived to the deck to avoid a deadly strike. He rolled to his feet, snatching up another gladius from a fallen gladiator as he rose.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Now Gallus thrust both blades forward, feeling the pressure as they sank into the meaty flesh of his enemies. Gallus yanked the blades free and swung them from each side, chopping the head off of another Carthaginian. Applause rumbled through the air as the crowd shouted its enthusiastic support. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Something slammed into Gallus’ side and pain raced through his body. He stumbled backward, nearly dropping his swords as he looked down. An arrow jutted from his side, blood already rolling down his leg. The feathered shaft seemed to look up at him, mocking his mortality. Gallus stared at the river of his blood, too stunned to move.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Another arrow slammed into the man next to Gallus, spurring him into motion. He could see the archers only a few dozen paces away. Gallus screamed an unintelligible battle cry and rushed forward. Gone was the cool detachment he had spent so many years training to attain. It was replaced with a bestial rage that threatened to overwhelm him and leave him as nothing more than a snarling half-mad animal. A Carthaginian sword left a deep bloody gash in his arm, but he did not feel it as he closed upon the bowmen.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">At the sight of his angry visage, the archers dropped their bows and pulled free long daggers. Gallus ignored the weapons and sent his swords hacking through tender flesh. One by one, the bowmen fell before his unimaginable rage. He stabbed both of his blades through the heart of the last man, then glanced around, returning to his senses.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The remaining Roman’s were fighting a desperate defensive battle. A few men were fighting as he, in mad one-man crusades. A group of twenty had made it across the unsteady bridge provided by the ram and had formed a shield wall, only to be pinned down against the starboard railing. More soldiers were trying to come across, but they were being cut down before they could gain their feet. They needed to take the prow of the ship and hold a line across the deck. Then they could protect their comrades as they made the crossing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus hacked his way through the Carthaginians, the hilts of his swords growing slick with the blood of his enemies. The swarthy men moved out of his way, lifting their hands to the sky, making gestures to ward off evil, as if Gallus were a demon rather than a man. The thought brought a wicked smile to Gallus lips, though the expression never reached his eyes. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He made the most of his perceived transformation and continued to howl and snap his teeth, beating his chest with his fists, the swords still clenched tight within them. Fear cleared Gallus’ path, making it easier to move across the ship until he stood at the prow, his back to the ram and the Romans trying to cross the unsteady bridge. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Face me and die! I’ll tear your souls from your bodies and send them to Pluto’s dark domain! Come if you wish to see your blood stain the deck! Come if you want to die!” Gallus shouted.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Carthaginians grouped themselves around him. They held their swords far away from their bodies, as if they did not want their skin to touch his. Gallus slapped the tips of their swords with his own blade. He did not know how much longer they would believe his act. Are they truly stupid enough to believe I am some kind of demon? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A group of Romans were forming another line behind him to protect the makeshift bridge. The faction trapped near the starboard rail was cutting a path through the Carthaginians to their position. Soon the two groups would be one, and Gallus and his men just needed to hold on for a few moments longer.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The deck beneath Gallus' feet began to creak and moan. He felt the ship tip slightly as the prow of the vessel sank a little lower in the water. The Roman trireme was sinking and it was taking the Carthaginian ship with it. The Romans redoubled their efforts, leaping across the gap between the ships with fervor.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Carthaginians chose that moment to stop doubting his mortality. “Hold your ground! Show these barbarian dogs what a Roman is made of!” Gallus shouted as he swung both of his swords toward the oncoming Carthaginians.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">His blades danced through the air, lighter than a feather. One of the stubby swords slashed through the neck of an attacker, the other thrust deep into the stomach of another. He twisted the second blade free, watching as the man’s intestines spilled to the deck already stained red with blood.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Romans behind him gave two sharp whistles, the signal to advance. Gallus darted to the side, slipping between them. The line moved at a slow and steady pace; the Roman machine of war had begun its unrelenting forward motion. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus leaned against the rail of the ship, staring at the backs of the men. He thrust his swords into the wood of the deck, both of the blades standing upright and firm. The lines of the Roman infantry were in perfect order, the men spaced evenly apart. It was a sight Gallus had seen many times before but it was still awe inspiring. It was as if they had become a single deadly creature, one that would not suffer its enemies to live.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The deck in front of them rose higher into the air, the stern of the ship rising out of the water completely as the prow sank closer and closer to the lapping waves. Gallus reached down for one of the discarded long poles and began prying at the ram wedged firmly into their former ship. If they could not break the Carthaginian ship loose, they would be swimming rather than sailing. Gallus grunted with effort and felt the stream of blood flowing from his side turn into a gushing river, but the ship would not break loose.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The number of men fleeing the doomed ship had lessened, the few jumping over now rowers from below deck. When they made it across, they joined Gallus in his attempt to lever the ships apart. The Carthaginian vessel continued to tip, the waves splashing over its prow. Anything not fastened down began to slide toward Gallus’ tenuous position, the added weight of the barrels and crates pushing the prow of the vessel down even faster. The ship's ballista broke free of its moorings and slid across the deck to smash into the railing just a few feet from Gallus. Barrels of the ballista’s long, heavy bolts spilled across his feet.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">With a crash, the sinking Roman ship broke loose. Gallus nearly fell as the Carthaginian vessel slapped down into the water and leveled out. He dropped his pole and let the ship’s railing support his weight. He heard the mob of the Colosseum shriek with raucous enthusiasm, the yells sounding sexual and primal in their excitement.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus felt weak and exhausted, too tired to care about the screeching multitudes or their perverse ways. The desire to sprawl across the deck welled up inside of him, and his eyes grew so heavy he wanted to close them. He could not say if it was sleep calling or death, and he did not care.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Commander!” someone shouted, lifting his weight across their shoulders to lay him down on the deck. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Commander? Who are they talking about?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Be calm, commander! The ship is nearly ours. This is going to hurt.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Blistering, all-consuming pain burst from his side through his entire body as the man yanked the arrow free. It took Gallus a moment to realize the pain-filled shriek echoing through the air was coming from his own mouth. The man who yanked the shaft free pressed a white cloth to his side, and Gallus’ eyes flickered shut, his mind stealing consciousness from him to avoid the pain.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A rough hand slapped him across the face. “Commander, you've lost too much blood! I can’t let you sleep!”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus shook the stars from his eyes and reached down to his side, taking the cloth from the man’s hands and pressing down hard. He could feel the blood pulsing from his body in time to his heart beat. As a legionnaire, he had seen a lot of men die, and he knew this injury might be his death wound. But he would not die on his back. He could hear the shouts of victory as his men took the ship, and he would see it as well.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He staggered to his feet, just in time to see the fog rising off of the water. The mist rose up around the six remaining Roman vessels and the eight Carthaginian ships with equal speed, showing no favor to either side. For just a moment, the thunderous noise of the crowd grew silent, their frenzied cheers muffled. Are they growing bored? Are the deaths of so many men that meaningless? Once again, he saw the phantom of the arena overlaying his vision. It flickered in and out of reality, the near-silent onlookers not providing enough energy to power the magic. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">As if sensing the apathy of the spectators, the gaudily dressed man strode forward and spoke. “People of Rome, in ages past, the Carthaginians were not the only dangers of the sea. The great god Neptune had many servants that roamed the seas. Creatures of unimaginable power that would attack our fleets and leave nothing behind. Would you like to see Neptune’s servants in battle?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">At those words, the crowd broke into cheers with a renewed vehemence, howling like maddened animals. The sound dwarfed any other they had made before. Energy visibly flowed from the crowd in a river of power that surrounded the witch. Her hands moved through the air with a panicked frenzy. What foul magic did she cast now? What creature did she summon?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus received his answer a moment later when something rose from the nearby ocean waters. The waves from the rising entity pushed the ship aside. As the water sluiced off of it, dark, slimy flesh appeared.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The creature was massive, larger than the triremes. It had long tentacles that touched the heavens above, and a huge gaping mouth big enough to swallow a man whole. The crowd roared its approval as the monstrous thing surfaced. It was a nightmare made flesh, the mob's fevered bloodlust manifesting in physical form. Gallus felt the ungentle hands of terror taking a hold of him, threatening to unman him as he stood with his mouth hanging open, staring as the sea monster began to move.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The swipe of a single huge tentacle thrust one of the Carthaginian ships below the waves. Another of its long snake-like appendages wrapped itself around a Roman ship and lifted it into the air. The oak of the hull shattered like it was made of glass. Gallus watched men leaping off the ruined vessels, plunging into the cold, dark ocean.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Arrows filled the sky, but the projectiles only bounced off the creature’s slick hide. Men all around Gallus shouted in fear as they rushed about the deck of the ship, their instincts telling them to flee while their minds told them it was impossible. He did not run; his feet rooted him to the deck in terror. He saw every moment, every man the monster plucked from the sea and swallowed whole.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus shook his head. I must do something. Men stumbled past him…and his eyes snapped to the ballista bolts rolling beneath their feet. He stooped and dragged one to the device. His bandage fell and fresh blood began to flow from his side. He ignored it as he cranked the huge spring tight and hoisted one of the three foot long arrows into the bow.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He took aim at the creature’s eye and pulled the trigger. The weapon fired with a loud thumping noise, but he did not watch the shaft’s flight. Instead, he began to crank the mechanism tight again. The unearthly howl reverberating through the air and the waves bouncing the ship from side to side told him his aim had been true. He ignored the monster’s thrashing and cranked the machine without looking up. The men around him shouted and the monster wailed; louder than all of it was the roar of the watching crowd.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gallus stumbled as he bent to pick up another of the huge arrows. He caught himself on the ballista and finally looked up. The sea monster was flailing its tentacles aimlessly. Thick black blood poured from its now milky eye, but its movements were slowing. Did I do it? Have I killed the beast with a single shot? It seemed impossible, but there could be no other explanation as the creature sank below the waves.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The mists lifted from the water once more. This time the Colosseum seemed more substantial, as if in killing the beast Gallus had somehow weakened the magic that held them all in thrall. The Emperor was on his feet, pointing and shouting. Next to him, the witch clutched her head in both hands. Gallus had injured her by killing the beast.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He spun around as fast as he could, slamming the ballista shaft into the firing mechanism. He threw himself behind the machine and took aim as quickly as he dared. He squeezed the trigger and felt the thump of its firing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">This time, he watched the huge arrow’s flight. It flew straight and true, to pierce the witch’s heart. The woman was lifted into the air from the force of the strike, and she slamned into the wall beside the emperor.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Colosseum sprang into reality, the ocean disappearing in an instant. The round-bottomed Carthaginian ship rolled to the side as it was deposited on the sands of the arena floor. Gallus jumped off, landing with a loud squelching noise in the muddy sand. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A stunned silence filled the arena. The only sound in Gallus' head was the hammering of his own heart.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Victory!” the slender man shouted, breaking the silence. “Victory for Rome! Once more the might of the Empire has proven itself stronger than any beast or army!”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A flurry of screams and yells filled the air, a tumultuous racket louder than anything Gallus had ever heard before. Yet somehow the sound of his quivering heartbeat still dwarfed the cacophony of the exuberant throng. Gallus glanced across the arena to see four Roman triremes alongside their stolen Carthaginian ship. Over two-thousand men had died for the mob’s fickle amusement. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">“Victory,” he whispered as the world around him grew dark.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The word tasted like ashes and dust.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div>Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434707676775321103.post-51062221918558550552012-06-25T13:30:00.003-07:002012-06-25T15:18:32.168-07:00Minnesota Vikings 2012 - A Prediction<div style="text-align: justify;">This is a writing blog, but by now I am guessing all my loyal readers know that I can’t really keep on topic. Following the footsteps of a writer much better than myself (<a href="http://grrm.livejournal.com/tag/nfl">George RR Martin</a>) I am going to share a little article about my favorite NFL team, the Minnesota Vikings (hey now, no teasing. I am a Vikings fan, haven’t I suffered enough?) </div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway I was reading the <a href="http://www.dailynorseman.com/">Daily Norseman</a>, a Vikings related news website. To be honest this time of year there isn’t all that much to talk about and what there is sounds like a group of elderly people gossiping at Wal-mart...<em> </em><br />
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<em><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Did you hear that <u>insert name here</u> is unhappy? Oh, really I didn’t hear that, but <u>Mr. So and So</u> might retire. No he won't but I think he might be dateing <u>What's Her Face</u>. She's too good for him if you ask me, back in 42 we knew how to treat a lady like that. When I first took my wife out we..., etc.</span></em><br />
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And another off topic side note: what is it about the Wal-mart food court that is so attractive to the 75+ crowd? Weird.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway this article caught my eye for some reason. At first it just seemed like one of those lame predictions of the season to come, but after a few sentences, it became <em>veeerrrry</em> interesting. It is a fun read for football fans but I think others might get a kick out of the inter-dimensional travel, the alligators with lasers in fire retardant suits, and the secrets of the <a href="http://www.nfl.com/player/jaredallen/2505940/profile">Jared Allen</a> blood ritual. <a href="http://www.dailynorseman.com/2012/6/23/3113076/vikings-2012-season-results#storyjump">Check it out.</a></div>Alva J. Robertshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11772698567782554453noreply@blogger.com0