Tales of the Dragon Islands: Prologue v. 2

 Hi all. Happy Super Sunday! Yes, the Super Bowl is today. It doesn't mean too much to me as my Dolphins are once again nowhere near being in the game. Still, it's fun to get together with friends, or family, or both, and have some food, watch the game and the commercials, and do other things during the halftime show.

This weekend, I have been doing some refurbishment of Tales of the Dragon Islands. I had rewritten a large bit of chapter 4 and deleted a chapter and a half of material once I realized I was headed in the wrong direction. That caused me to turn a critical eye to another part of the book that I was a little dissatisfied with--the prologue. So, I've rewritten it. I had posted the original here. You can check that out if you like before reading the updated version below. Let me know your thoughts in the comments section.

Prologue

Autumn, 785 Year of the Dragon (YOD)
Jongchin, northern coast
 
    Eleven year old Benchu and his father, Jenchu left their small sod farmhouse early in the morning. They were going out to seed their freeholding. His father had tilled their two fields yesterday, and today Benchu had been asked to help with the planting. His father had never asked him to help with such an important task. He looked out on the bleak windswept landscape. An early spring breeze sent a chill through him.
    This would be the first year his father would trust him to distribute the precious seeds. He felt the weight of them in the leather bag at his side. The strap holding it dug slightly into his shoulder.
Something to the north caught his attention. A black plume was rising from the direction of the nearby coast.
    “Smoke!” he yelled, pointing.
    “Raiders!” his father exclaimed. “Benchu, find your mother and get her to the caves!”
    “What about you?” Benchu asked.
    “I must join with our neighbors to fend them off.”
    Jenchu went into the house and came out with his hunting bow. “Find your mother. She was down by the creek washing clothes with the other women. Get them all to the caves!”

    As he spoke, men from the village and neighboring farms appeared, heading toward the coast. They carried a ragtag collection of weapons and tools--bows, scythes, some swords. When they saw Jenchu, they all converged on the farm. He was a village councilor. It was up to him to plan a defense.
    “The coast is under attack,” he said. “It’s a good bet it’s raiders from the Northland. We have to go and meet them before they push further inland. Are you with me?”
    The gathered crowd nodded. A few cheered.
    “All right, then let’s go. Benchu, you go and alert the women like I told you.”
    Benchu nodded, and headed up the ridge toward the valley and the creek. He had almost reached the crest when he heard shouts.
    Turning back, he saw a horde of men coming up from the coast. They were dressed in leather and fur. They wore steel banded helmets with a large metal spike at the top. All carried two-handed axes.
He stood there watching, unable to tear himself away. As the villagers charged to meet the raiders, he saw his father shooting arrows, felling several northmen. He felt a momentary flush of pride.
    Then, a shadow rose from the smoke on the horizon. It moved swiftly toward them. The rising sun glinted on silver.
    Benchu gasped. “The Silver Dragon,” he whispered.
    It was the Silver Dragon of the North. Flying swiftly from the coast, it circled the battle once. Even from this distance Benchu was awestruck by the size of the great beast. The sun glinted off its silver scales. Great silver wings cast a shadow on the ground. Its sapphire eyes held a terrible hatred. The mouth was huge. It held large, curved yellow fangs and a ruby red forked tongue.

A Writer's Week #137: Winter Freeze

 Hi all! This month has been a frigid one in my neck of the woods. Temperatures have dipped down into the single digits in January. Once week, there were a couple subzero mornings. Brrrrrr. Not only that, but there was also very little snow. I always feel that if you're going to be frozen, you should have snow to enjoy. Oh well. That might just be me.

My book sales reflected the weather--frozen. There has not been much happening on the sales front in January. That is not entirely unusual, but it would be nice to get a few sales to--break the ice so to speak.

That does not mean that I have been idle. I am still in the process of identifying a social media marketing partner. After some thinking and conversations with some of the marketers I've been interviewing, I think that it would be more feasible to focus on the middle grade market. In other words, I'm going to "stay in my lane". At least for now.

With that in mind, I'll be focusing most of my attention on this blog and my Deliverers Series Facebook page rather than my GSSlombaAuthor blog. As the Owl Flies is more of a one-off work. It has a different niche market that those that are interested can check out. It's not my bread and butter, however. I have also suspended work (for now) on Quirk, my first-person YA fantasy novel. I'll probably continue it someday, but right now the plot is still a little nebulous. It needs to marinate a bit.

Once I made that determination, I began to focus on middle grade fantasy again. First up is Tales of the Dragon Islands. The book is based on the world featured in book three of the Deliverers Series, The Golden Dragon of Ang. as it stands now, I'm not sure if it will be a standalone novel or the first in a series. For now, I'm going to focus on getting the first one written.

This week, I wrote almost 1,000 words of it. That means that right now, it's about 25 pages and 4,250 words long--far from finished, but humming along. I hope to get more written this weekend. as usual, I'll keep you up to date on things as they develop.

Peace

Tales of the Dragon Islands:

Here's the first chapter of my WIP, Tales of the Dragon Islands. Let me know what you think. 

Chapter 1

    Moonlight glinted off the slate tiles of the rooftops of the city. A lone figure, shrouded in black crouched low on one of them, surveying the array of buildings that stretched downhill toward the water. A slight breeze wafted up from the harbor, carrying with it the scent
of the sea.

     The figure sniffed the air and gestured slightly. From out of the shadow of a chimney, another shrouded figure joined the first on the ridgeline of the roof. It also sniffed the air, then pulled the mask down from its face.

    Giving a slight smile, it whispered, “Something’s afoot down by the harbor. What is it, Ben?”

    The other figure shook its head and held a finger to its masked face.

     “Oh come on, who’s going to hear us up here? There’s no one here but us.”

     “You there!” a voice cried out. “What are you doing up here?”

      Four figures in polished leather jerkins and gleaming spiked helmets clambered over the rooftops toward them.

    “The Night Watch,” the one called Ben hissed. “Move!”

    Together the two black figures glided away. Smaller and more agile than their pursuers, they moved with cat-like quickness, leaping from roof to roof. In seconds, they had left them far behind.  Moving to the edge of a roof, they slid down the drainpipe to an alley off a little used side street.

      Before they could congratulate themselves on their escape, strong hands grabbed them and locked them in a strong embrace.

      A bearded guard looked them over with a smirk. “Gotcha. What was ya doin’ up on the rooftops. Don’t seem like a fit place fer kids t’ be in the middle of the night.” With a swift tug, he removed one mask, then the other, revealing the faces of a girl and boy.

      “Aha, thought so. What might two orphans be doin’ leapin’ about on the rooftops?”

     “Why don’t you get stuffed, Sharfo?” the boy replied. “Don’t you have more important things to do than go chasing after a couple of kids?”

     The big man laughed. “I might, Benchu. However, Madame Fru sent me to find you. You are not supposed to be out so late. She is afraid for you and Mailynn. She says there is something in the air.”

    Benchu waived his hand dismissively. “Aw, what does she know? She’s always getting ‘feelings’. It’s nothing.”

    Sharfo pursed his lips. “Hmmm. That may be, but I have learned to pay more credence to those feelings than you. Youth is ever quick to scoff at the old, but in the end, they learn. Experience is a stern teacher.”

    He and two members of the Watch escorted the two children through the darkened streets. All the while, Benchu chafed, wanting to head the way they had come, back toward the harbor. Instead, they were marched uphill, deeper into the heart of Dragon Home.

    Turning down a side street they arrived in front of a large building. Its façade was somewhat worn and rundown, but not as much as the buildings closer to the harbor. The biting ocean breezes did not reach so far inland. A wide stone staircase led up to a covered portico that spanned the entire front of the building. It must have been grand once, but now it looked shabby and worn down.

   Standing at the top of the stairs was a stern looking old woman. Her black hair was streaked with gray and drawn back in a bun. She wore a scarlet silk robe, embroidered with gold thread. Piercing black eyes bored into Ben and Mailynn as they walked up the stairs. She stood straight and stiff, displaying no need for the polished bamboo cane she held in her left hand. As the children approached, heads bowed, her wrinkled face showed no emotion.

       “Thank you, for bringing my little birds home, Captain Sharfu,” her voice creaked, “Again.”

    The captain bowed low. “It is my honor, Madame, although I must admit that it is becoming a bit tedious.”

   “I understand, Captain, and I am sorry. When birds fly, sometimes their wings must be clipped.” The old woman sighed and turned to the children. “But I have been hesitating to do so with these two. I had hoped they would learn some restraint.”

                Captain Sharfu snorted. “Perhaps, you should move them to a stronger cage.”

                Madame Fru sighed and shook her head. “Ah well, children are not birds after all. They will follow their own path. These two will ever strive to fly, even though logic says they cannot.

“I have taken you and your men away from your duties enough for one night. Thank you again, Captain.”

Captain Sharfo bowed again. “Safeguarding children is part of our duty, Madame Fru. Once the sun sets, all citizens of Dragon Home are the responsibility of the Night Watch--even two young fledglings such as these. I am only thankful that the rest of your orphans are not as determined to fly the coop.”

He and his men bowed once more and headed back down the street. Ben watched as they were swallowed by the darkness.

                He turned. Madame Fru studied them with an icy stare. “Come, youngsters. We must talk.”

Tales of the Dragon Islands: Prologue

So, I am currently working on two works in progress (WIP) at the moment. This is a first for me, and I have no idea which I will complete first, or even if I will get any completed. This one is tentatively titled Tales of the Dragon Islands. It will cover events in the world Eric and the Deliverers visit in Book 3 of the Deliverers Series.

This story takes place about 3,000 years before the Deliverers arrive on the Islands. I have a basic idea of what the tale will be about and what will happen, but I think I will be discovering a lot of information as I write.

Prologue

Autumn, 785 Year of the Dragon (YOD)

Jongchin, northern coast

 

                It is a time of fear and some unrest on the Dragon Islands. The northern parts of Jongchin have fallen victim to raids from fierce warriors that come over the sea from the northeast. They are vicious and ruthless. They are supported by a silver dragon that breathes snow and ice. As I said, they attack the northern coast of Jongchin as well as the northwestern portion of Ang.

                The raiders are looting and pillaging, setting fire to villages and crops. Some have even stolen children between the ages of 12 and 15. When the silver dragon comes, it is met by our own dragon, the Golden Dragon of Ang, who guides and guards our people from the holy seat of Dragon Home on the island of Ang. Ang is the Head of the islands. The others are Jongchin, the Heart; Shua and Shuay, the Claws; and Hindra, the Tail.

                It is hard to defend against these attacks as our coastline is long and our enemies vary the location of their attacks. Their ships are stout and strong, built to travel long distances. Because of this, our generals estimate the north men come from hundreds, perhaps thousands of miles away. The mindset of the Golden Dragon is not to attack, but to defend. So, to our knowledge, she has never ventured out in search of their homeland.

                I for one, wish the Dragon would lead us against the north men, as the silver dragon does against us. However, that is not her way. She is as a mother to us—guarding and protecting us. Our ships are less sturdy than those of our attackers. They are built for trade and for battles close to shore, not long journeys upon the open sea.

                Now perhaps, the tide is turning. We were able to salvage one of their warships almost intact. The Dragon met theirs in the sky as they were conducting one of their raids. The ship was making off with a dozen or so of our children, captured after their parents were butchered and their farms burned. The two dragons battled in the sky, and the silver dragon was driven off. The Golden Dragon snatched the ship from the water and laid it down upon the sand.

                We killed all aboard save for our children. Alas, not one of their parents survived. Most were taken in by relatives, but there were a few who had no remaining kin. These the Dragon took with her back to Ang. It is my understanding that they shall be cared for in an orphanage. They will grow to serve the Dragon on Ang and shall want for nothing.

                Meanwhile, we are examining the ship. While we on Jongchin are farmers, not seafaring folk, some of the finest shipwrights and sailors are coming from across the Islands to study all aspects of the captured vessel. It is my hope that we shall soon be able to build ships every bit as sturdy as those of our enemies. Then, perhaps, we can take the fight to them.

A Writer's Week #130: Spring Fever

Well, spring has definitely sprung here in Candlewood Corners, Connecticut. Grass is growing, flowers are blooming, trees are budding. Activity has also been rising on the writing front---from scheduling new appearances to working on production of my recently completed manuscript to the launch of a new Deliverers Series video trailer to the writing of yet another new book, things are rising to a fever pitch around here. Good stuff indeed. Here are some tidbits about each project:

Appearances

I've booked several already beginning in May, and I have more in the planning stages. I'll be posting updates on the Deliverers Series Facebook page as well as my Appearances page on this site.

Deliverers Series

I recently completed a video trailer for the overall series. Here it is if you haven't seen it:

You can view all of my Deliverers-related videos on a new video page on this site. There you will find a book trailer for each book, a couple interviews I conducted with myself long ago, samples from the audio book version of Sharky and the Jewel, and some other tidbits.

Book 4, Sparkling Mist of Time, has been receiving some great reviews, particularly from Fairday's Blog, as well as a 5-Star review from Readers' Favorite.

As the Owl Flies

The entire manuscript has been formatted, and Emily Hurst Pritchett is working on the cover and illustrations for each story. This is a really exciting project, as it will bring together short stories and poems I wrote pre-Deliverers. While geared for middle grade and teen readers, it is a departure from the fantasy adventure genre that I'm know for. I'm kind of taking a leap of faith with this little book, so to speak. In any event, I hope you all give it a shot and check it out.

When determining what formats to present the book in, I decided to publish it as an e-book and a paperback right away. After giving it more thought, I also decided to release it as an audio book. SO, once it's all put together, I will be posting it on ACX for auditions. I've already had one narrator indicate that they would be interested in auditioning, so I'm hoping I'll have some interest.

Here is the back cover blurb to give you an idea of what the book will be like:

As the Owl Flies is a collection of stories that warm the heart, and make you smile.

Originally written to be read aloud to friends gathered comfortably together, these stories convey simple, universal truths in a lighthearted, fun way. The whimsical illustrations help bring the characters to life, capturing their foibles and quirks. In between are sprinkled four poems of hope, optimism, and thankfulness that will make you (perhaps) think. Some of the friends you’ll meet within these pages include:

• A squirrel who must decide how to use the gift that is given to him'
• An old man forced to reevaluate his life.
• A disappointing Christmas present, that becomes the greatest gift of all.
• A beaver who yearns to soar.
• A girl whose dreams signal disaster.

A fun, thought-provoking read for all ages, these stories are a breath of fresh air that will revive your spirit and restore your faith in human nature.

Tales From the Dragon Islands

I'll be getting back to middle grade fantasy adventure with my latest work in progress, Tales From the Dragon Islands. I'm not sure if that will be the title of the book, or the name of a series--we'll have to wait and see. I've been working slowly on this and so far, I'm up to about 2,300 words, so just getting started, really. It's about an event that happens on the Dragon Islands about 3,000 years before the Deliverers pay a visit. 

I've been a little nervous about where this manuscript is headed, because I have an idea of the protagonists and where they will end up, but almost no idea of how they are going to get there. This will be very much a case of letting the characters show me what will happen. When this happens to me, it's always very exciting, but also terrifying. Thankfully, after really wondering where this was headed for the first 1,300 words or so, the last 1,000 have given me hope that my characters might know what they're doing. I'll let you know if that continues as things move along.

Peace

Somebody Else's Interview

For a long time now, I've been planning to interview illustrator Emily Hurst Pritchett. However, being the procrastinator I am, I haven't quite got around to it. Now, I suppose the point is kind of moot as Annie's Book Stop of Worcester conducted a great video interview with her.

It's up on YouTube, but I've posted it below. The interview is really great. In it, Emily gives great insight into her creative process, her own personal taste in books and pastimes, as well as what it's like illustrating for independent authors, publishers, and what she's up to with her personal art. As you watch, you might even see a couple familiar books being flashed. 

Emily is working on illustrations and the cover for As the Owl Flies and I have started the Tales of the Dragon Islands book. I'll share more of that shortly.

Peace