Posts Tagged ‘new author’

It almost died…

Sunday, August 29th, 2010

The saga that is.

As a Christian many people with think that I write so pretty weird stuff, nay even demonic. I write about worlds filled with magic and wonderful creatures, impossible worlds and walking nightmares. Why? I have no idea other than that is what I like. I could write romance, historical stuff, horror, sci-fi etc etc In fact I have written some of those but at the moment the dominating genre in my thinking is fantasy.

I love the world that I have created, I see it in my mind, I can taste it, touch it smell, hear the sounds of battle and sense the life in the world in which it all takes place. If that ever stops then I will have stop too. When those close to me object, sometimes angrilly, it is upsetting as I have no explanation for why I do it other than the fact that I do.

Since my last entry here, I have a serious downer. Spent too much time listening to the condemnatory voices that rattle around in my mind like a scavenger feeding on the tiniest scraps of life. It took me sometime to get over it, when those nearest to you are the ones ‘attacking’ you it hurts bad. Emotional pain is worse than physical, emotions gnaw at you for years without mercy and even when you think that you have conquered one it can still come back and bite you again and again.

I have of course written something, a few thousand words, which will of course grow and grow as the story lines twist and weave themselves in and out of each other and I just have to know where its going. Don’t you?

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Tough one…

Thursday, August 12th, 2010

This is something that I don’t like to do. I am not who likes to talk about how I really am and what me what I am and how I think. I.E. a real blog about the writer and not just a sales tool, I’m no salesman.

Most times I swing between being happy and depressed, usually over trivial things that just gnaw away at the psyche. This being so determines what I about and how much I write. Often a good run is only a 1000 words which I like to do most days, however this being the summer holidays I am at home with my three children so time for writing is hard to come by. I don’t like to be disturbed as I wander through the worlds about which I write.

Often there can be whole weeks, or more, when I write nothing at all. This can be mood but normally it’s because I only write what I see. I have to be able to see the detail, see where the characters are and believe in what is happening so that I can convey it, hopefully clearly, to the reader, if indeed there are any. I see from the statistics that there are visitors to the sight and downloads taken but never any comments left other than porn links and sex drugs – what a sad world we live in. Surely the whole world has not become pimps or drug pushers?

Perhaps we all need fantasies to escape in, characters to identify with to live out our alter egos through. This being so, who or what would you be? How would you live? I’m sure its not peddling prostitution or drugs. Everyone has dreams, ambitions etc so why not make them happen?

Effort is required in order to succeed. I have spent over 20 years writing novels. I used to try and find publishers with great effort but one skill I lack is the covering letter, the synopsis too. I just can’t sell myself. It has taken a long time to believe in me, to actually think that what I do write is worth reading, as for selling – well there we go again. The sad pathway to self loathing is the easiest to tread as it requires nothing of you but to think about yourself. What could be easier than that? Me me me, the voice of the word cries out whilst it looks around at all the suffering and blames God for it when the truth is ‘self’ did it and will keep on doing it so long as it can satisfy its own justification for doing nothing.

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Vampire

Monday, August 2nd, 2010

Tonight’s finish

“Who’s there,” Stallo stomped his front feet trying as best he could to put on a brave display. There was a dull thud as his female companion slumped to the floor before she could even reach for her spear.
“Now it is just the two of us,” Bernie phased from the shadows.
“It’s you,” Stallo sighed, “I thought that it might be something dangerous to worry about,” he tried to chuckle but only succeeded in making himself cough.
“I’ve come to call in your debt,” Bernie knelt gently beside the stricken mamasaur keeping a watchful eye on Stallo as she carefully withdrew the spear from its neck and placed her mouth over the wound. She closed her eyes as she drank deeply from its life until the animal breathed no more.
“That’s disgusting,” Stallo said, turning his face away, “I don’t know how you could do that,” he said with an air of aloofness. Stallo let out a small shriek as he felt Bernie’s hand upon his throat.
“How shall I collect the debt,” Bernie looked at Stallo quizzically, “shall I slit you from throat to loin?” she drew a line with a blade as she spoke drawing a trace of blood. “Shall I spear you to the ground and twist until your screams can be heard back at your camp?” She swung her legs up and over Stallo’s back mounting him like a horse while keeping one of her blades pressed firmly to his throat. With a twist of her hips Stallo lay on the ground with the blade still at his throat and one stuck between his ribs draining the air from his lungs. “Now that I have your full attention I will take all that is due to me.”
“Wait,” Stallo gasped, “the female carries my child, you can have it when it is born. I know how much Darklings like newborns.”
Bernie looked toward the female closing her eyes, she could feel the rhythmic beat of the female’s synchronised hearts, “not even a good lie. When she wakes you will be dead and your tribe will not become the slaves of the Cherrup.
“No!” Stallo cried out all too briefly as he felt the fangs in his neck.
There was a huff of air as Bernie slid the blade along Stallo’s ribs releasing his final breath. Though Stallo was a large creature his life was drained from him in few generous heartbeats. Bernie stood up and looked down at the dead centaur, “Another time do not make deals in blood with Darklings as we always collect in full.” Bernie kicked the dried out husk breaking open its once muscular chest. The female centaur groaned softly as she attempted to lift her head from the ground but thought better of it.
Bernie sauntered over to the female, “stay away from Stallo’s people, they belong to us,” she stepped over the female and was gone.

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Another chapter done

Friday, July 16th, 2010

Well that’s another chapter of The Cord in the bag, just need to check it over. Also finished the first chapter of my other book Rain.

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The Darklings approach

Tuesday, July 13th, 2010

Well, they’ve been hinted at since near the start of the saga and now they draw ever nearer. This a test of how I want to portray the Darklings (vampires and other creatures of the night) within the saga.

This text will not appear as is it is merely to show how they think and act.

With my eyes closed I can feel all of the living things that surround you. The cockroach with its quivering antennae and hooked feet that tug at the fibres of your discarded clothes. There’s a moth fluttering around the night-light that dimly glows by the skirting board. And the mouse, scurrying beneath your bedside table dining on those crumbs that you dropped in your hurry to switch off the light. Then there is you with your face turned toward the pallid moon that colours your skin a pale gray through the open curtains rippling in the breath of the night.

The moon may be cool but your skin is warm I can feel the passion within your soul: your desires are not unknown to me. I open my eyes to look upon your partially covered flesh the silken wraps in which you sleep reveal everything that you would wish to conceal. I move in close; you purr softly as you sense me draw nigh your flesh. My breath is intoxicating. As you turn toward me your wrappings slip from your porcelain-like skin revealing the fullness of your glory. I close my eyes once more so that I may feel your rhythm rise in the anticipation of our embrace. I can smell your perfumed neck infused with the rich aroma of your musk. Your blood is close now I can feel it swirling through your heart as it beats to the rhythm of my own. Already we are one even before my lips are upon your neck and then with a soft sigh you are mine. Our blood is one.

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