Wednesday 17 December 2014

Sidelined

Hey fantasy fans!

As you might remember from my last blog post, I'm a little behind schedule. Well, that looks set to continue. After a few software issues and a bad cold, I've decided to start my Christmas break early! I'll be starting writing again in the New Year, but I'll need to do the next edits on the play before I can get back to Lay Me Restless, so the Beta Reader stage looks quite far away now. 

Strangely, I'm not frustrated. I think I need a break and it's well earned. This has been a really busy year and I've worked really hard to get to this stage, it's understandable that I'm a little run down. With these two weeks to rest I can bounce back in the New Year and make 2015 just as productive as this year!

Have a fantastic festive season and I'll speak to you all next year!

Sam

Saturday 13 December 2014

Setbacks

So, again, sorry for not updating in a while. As so often happens, editing has taken over my life. Unfortunately, it's a slower process than I was expecting. I was hoping to get the sixth draft to the Beta Readers by Christmas, but that's now looking impossible. Obviously I will get this done as soon as I can, but it's now looking more like February. 

That said, I'm really enjoying the process! Sitting at a computer for eight hours is a little gruelling, but I'm seeing the manuscript shape into the book I always wanted it to be, which is a very gratifying experience. I'm excited to see it completed and hope the Beta Readers enjoy it as much as I'm expecting. 

In other news, Christmas is almost here! I'm very excited; it's my favourite time of year. Good company, good food and a little relaxation. Throw a new book in under the tree and what could be better?

Thanks for reading,
Sam

Monday 17 November 2014

A Quick Update

Sorry about the radio silence recently. In short, now that I've hit the editing process, I figured it was better to just get on with it all than giving constant updates. I'm about to start the fourth draft, so 'Lay Me Restless' is really coming together! I'm hoping to have it to the Beta-Readers by Christmas (who wants a manuscript in their stocking?). So, if anyone does want to put themselves forward as a Beta-Reader, now is the time to let me know!

So that's about it really. Once I've got the final draft done (I tend to do about six), I'm thinking of writing blogs about issues surrounding writing, if that's something people would be interested in? I do a similar thing about video-games in the magazine I write for which you can find here: http://www.altmaguk.net/?m=1

Thanks for reading!

Monday 22 September 2014

Success!

Last Saturday was my book signing in East Grinstead and I'm very pleased with how it went. I reached loads of new readers who otherwise wouldn't have been introduced to the series, and I walked away with a tidy profit which is always handy! The owner of the shop said he'd love to have me back at some point too, which is fantastic news. 

I learned a lot too. I've worked out that some readers are very sceptical of genres that are unfamiliar to them. It's a lot easier to sell fantasy to fantasy fans. That said, after explaining a little about the books, how they're really about the relationships between the characters set against a fantasy backdrop, I even managed to sell some copies to some fantasy sceptics, which was very gratifying indeed. 

This week I hear back about the revisions needed for the play, but so at the producers seem very happy! And only three and a half chapters left to go on the first draft of Lay Me Restless! Want to be a beta reader? Let me know :)

Sam

Thursday 11 September 2014

A Continuation of Good Things

So, what's new? In short, not much but also a lot. No, I'm not being philosophical or mysterious, just truthful. 

But what exactly do I mean? Well, in terms of 'Lay Me Restless' I haven't done much work at all. I've only got about six chapters of the first draft to write, so I'm hoping that when I get back to writing it the process should be pretty quick. Then it's just a matter of a few edits (I say this like it's a small job! Any author will tell you this is every bit as difficult as the first draft) before I send it to the Beta Readers. While I've got you, if anybody would like to be a Beta Reader (in other words get an advanced copy to give feedback on) then let me know! Message me on Facebook or Twitter or simply comment on this post. The more I have the better!

I suppose the obvious question is; 'Sam, if you're so close to the end of the book why don't you just write it?' And, for anyone who follows my blog posts regularly, the answer's probably quite obvious too. I've been focusing on the play I've been commissioned to write. I'm almost finished! I think I really just need one more full day to finish the story and then a little time to polish it up a little before I send it to the producers and director. With any luck, that should be next week. It's been a fun process, but a taxing one. With the play being an adaptation there's a lot to think about; making it your own, whilst also staying true enough to the original story for it to be recognisable. Still, it's soon to see the light of day and I can't wait :)

The independent bookshop at the cafe is going really well! I'm the best seller and the customers are all really interested. Even the ones who don't buy anything look at the novels (especially 'In the Footsteps of the Behemoth') and every time they do that the covers, titles, and my name become more recognisable. 

My book signing is next Saturday (20th) at East Grinstead bookshop. It's looking like it should be a really fantastic day. It's a beautiful bookshop in an old Tudor house. Surrounded by books, talking about books all day! What could be better?

In other news, I've just finished the Inheritance Trilogy by N.K Jemisin which is a must-read for Fantasy fans looking for something a little different. There will be reviews on Goodreads soon, but, for the moment, I'm back to working my way through 'In Search of Lost Time' by Proust. Yes, I am a literature nerd and I am okay with that.  

Until next week!
Sam

Wednesday 27 August 2014

Onwards!

So, what's new?

Well, as you might recall, last week I was commissioned to write a play. The good news is, I've already finished the first act. I've still got a way to go with it, but an act in three days isn't bad going at all. For some reason script writing has always been a quick process for me. Maybe it's because it's mainly dialogue and the emotion of dialogue is, usually, a purely logical thing. Maybe it just suits my writing style well. It might just be that since secondary school I've had to write an awful lot of scripts (I was a drama student and carried that on at college), so I'm just used to doing it. Whatever the reason, it's a good thing because I should hit my deadline with time to spare. Hopefully the producers will like it... 

Progress on the novel has continued well too. I'm very near the end of the first draft now, with this final plot point proving to be even more engrossing than I'd planned. I'm very excited! I can't wait to read it back while editing before sending it to the beta readers. I really think this is my best work. 

Last weekend was the opening of Daisy White's Booktique at which both of my books were being sold. There was a lot of interest and I actually sold quite a few on the first day alone. People especially seem interested in 'In the Footsteps of the Behemotn'. It's very gratifying; a hell of a lot of work went into both of my books, so to see them generate so much excitement is fantastic. 

So, all in all, a very successful week. Let's hope it continues :)

Thursday 21 August 2014

The Week Things Got Interesting

Okay, I know I've already done a blog post this week but events have transpired in a rather interesting way since then. I would love to tell you that I've finished 'Lay Me Restless', but that would be a lie. I am, however closer than ever. I do think you'll be pleasantly surprised with this new development though.

It all started on Tuesday. I was at my other job, making milk hot and pouring it on top of espresso, making rude customers a product they couldn't possibly create for themselves, when my old friend Jack Lane enters in his typically theatrical style. He's with his director friend Sheryl who I'd met briefly before and we all say our hellos. I innocently think that they've just popped in for a cup of tea. They then ask me to write a script for them.

Obviously I said yes; it's too big an opportunity to pass up and I get to work with some fantastically talented and motivated people. Also, if it all goes to plan, I could make a tidy sum of money out of the venture.

I won't say too much about the project just yet, because we're still working out some of the finer detail, but I've already made a start on the script. Is it a lot of work? Considering I'm finishing 'Lay Me Restless', recording music, writing for Alt:Mag, promoting my other books and working in the cafe, then yes it is. But it's worth it. I write because I enjoy writing and it's another way to help further my career. In short, I'm very excited.

I'll tell you all more when I know more!

Exit, pursued by a bear!
Sam

Tuesday 19 August 2014

Busy busy busy

My cover shifts are almost over! I have one more today and then tomorrow it's back to writing. Unfortunately, due to the book signing next month, part of this week is going to have to be sacrificed to admin, pushing the first draft back a little further. Still, it's definitely worth it. Me surrounded by books in an old Tudor house; what could be better?

This weekend something exciting happens at my other job too! On Saturday Daisy White is opening her Booktique where customers will be able to buy my books! She's very business savvy, far more than me (my mind's a little too far over on the creative side to be a great business person) so this could be a great step for my career.

And the Fawcett Society have sent some members my way for the local group! It's early days yet, but progress.

Oh, and I'm recording loads of music at the moment.

As usual, busy busy busy, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Sam

P.S The new season of The Walking Dead is finally on Freeview! Hold me!

Tuesday 12 August 2014

Just a Few More Hurdles

Sorry for the slight amount of radio silence on the blog over the past couple of weeks, but it is for a good reason. Rather than deciding to post just to say "The book's almost done! The book's almost done!" I thought I might as well just get on with it. 

Life, however, had other ideas. 

As any author will tell you, as conducive to inspiration as life can often be, it also has an annoying habit of getting in the way of a writer's schedule. Such a thing has happened to me. Yet, ask me exactly what these things are and I'm not sure I could say. Not because they're very embarrassing secrets (although some of them could be, possibly? If I could remember?), but because they were all just stuff and things. Everyday things like going to work and living my life. It's difficult to pin down just what the hold up was, but there was one. And, unfortunately, due to the fact that life tends to swoop in to steal me from writing, this looks set to continue. So, a slight delay on 'Lay Me Restless', but I'm still closer than ever. 

In other news, Battle of the Bands went fantastically well. No, I didn't win, nor did I expect to. However the audience reaction was fantastically positive and I had a great time performing, as usual. 

There's still time to win free signed copies of 'Endless Tides' and 'In the Footsteps of the Behemoth'! Find the details on my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sam-Leeves/273167406173009

I'll post again soon. Hopefully with some exciting progress!

Sam

Friday 1 August 2014

Almost There!

I turned on the news this morning and everything was about the Commonwealth Games. Nice to know that world peace broke out overnight.

In other actual news, I'm very near the end of the first draft of 'Lay Me Restless'! I've finally moved into the final subplot of the book and I hope to have the first draft finished this month. It's a very exciting time! It's been really fun process, probably even more so than the first two. Personally, I think this is my best work and I can't wait for the beta readers to have a look at it.

All of the organisation for my book signing is moving along. In case anyone missed any of the details, it's on the 20th September at East Grinstead Bookshop, starting at 11am and closing up around 4pm. Come on by! It's promising to be a fun, book-filled day.

There's also a chance to win free signed copies of both of my books! All you need to do is like my Facebook page, then like and share the top post. Here's a link to make it easier for you: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sam-Leeves/273167406173009?ref=hl&focus_composer=true&ref_type=bookmark#

Good luck and get clicking!

Sam


Tuesday 15 July 2014

A Return to the Norm

"Hey everybody!"
"Hey, Norm!"

So, after a few weeks of galavanting around the country I'm now unmistakably back home with everything pretty much back to normal. Following a holiday to Dorset and watching two of my favourite bands in the midlands and the north I'm now back in Sussex, where it's all very quiet. It's been a fantastic few weeks, and these were some of the best concerts I've ever been to, but, I have to say, I'm a little excited to get back to writing.

Today was my first day that was really my own since I've been back. I had to work at my other job on Sunday and Monday so today when I woke I was ready to sit down and start a new chapter. I grabbed my pen, paper and my imagination (my imagination often wonders far and yet it's never a great distance away... weird, huh?) and I quite happily started writing. I did a good one thousand words and was happy with my progress. Then life happened. I realised all the errands I had to run. I had housework to do, things to do in town, and a host of other pieces of admin that couldn't really wait. I set to them immediately and emerged smiling at about seven pm. So, all in all, not the best writing day I've ever had, but that all looks set to change tomorrow.

I'm really close to the end of Lay Me Restless now! I can't let the pace slip.

This is a thing. I work in a cafe part-time to subsidise my writing (I'm not J.K Rowling yet) and I always call my cafe-job my other-job. My regular customers who know I'm an author (which is all of them, because, you know, it's a conversation starter...) call my writing-job my proper-job. I'd agree with this, but every so often one of my friends will call my other-job my proper-job. But I spend a lot more time at my writing-job than I do my other-job, so my writing-job seems more proper to me. Not only this, but I've been writing a lot long than I've been working in cafes and approach writing with a lot more passion and dedication than I do my cafe-job (sorry, boss; as much as I love coffee, you need something to read while you're drinking it). So, while some people might argue that my other-job is a lot more proper than my proper-job, they don't understand me properly, otherwise my other more otherworldly job about thing other than things you'd find in a cafe or other food establishment would probably seem as proper to them as it does to me with it being my proper-job and seeming properly proper. If you follow me...

In other news, my band is hard at work practicing for Battle of the Bands next month. I'm really looking forward to it. It's always a great event and this year, with it's new summer date and changed venue to the local park, it looks to be better than ever.

Also, go and see Pearl Jam live. You'll thank me.

Friday 4 July 2014

Another Holiday!

So, I had a really great time in Dorset. I did so much reading, what more can you ask for? The weather was great and it was fantastic to have so much time to relax. But the holiday isn't quite over yet! Next week I'm travelling pretty much the entire length of country and back again to see two of my favourite bands. I'm seeing Pearl Jam in Leeds, Pixies in Manchester and then Pearl Jam again in Milton Keynes. They both put on fantastic live shows so I can't wait!

Aside from that I'm typically busy. Still writing, chipping away at it as and when I can and making a fair amount of progress with it. My band's practicing for the upcoming Battle of the Bands tournament and I'm practicing my acoustic stuff for the solo competition too. I'm getting everything ready for my book signing in September (stay tuned for more info on that). I'm also setting up a local group in my county for the Fawcett Society. Not to mention a few articles to write for the online magazine I've been writing for. What can I say? I like to keep busy.

Well, I should get on with the above list. I'll post again as soon as I can.

Sam

Thursday 19 June 2014

Holiday! (Celebrate! (It would be so nice...))

Sorry for the late post! Between admin and writing etc, I've only just had time to sit down and write this out.

So, what's new? Well, 'Lay Me Restless' is progressing smoothly; I'm hoping to have the first draft done by the start of August, but, knowing what I'm like with the deadlines I set myself, I'm not holding my breath. Still, even this first draft is reading very well, so hopefully that will cut down on some editing time.

I'm still ironing out the final details for my book signing, but it looks like it should be in August. More details as soon as I have them!

But the main thing is that I'm going on holiday tomorrow with my favourite person in the world! We're going to a small town in Dorset and I'm going to RELAX. I think I've earned it. Between work, admin, promotion, writing, music etc I haven't really stopped this side of New Year, so it'll be nice to just have a little time to let everything settle. Don't misunderstand, I enjoy all of that stuff (enjoy isn't strong enough word for the more artistic sides), but it can be tiring at times. So, for a week I'm going to sit in the sun and read while having a well deserved glass of wine. I'm taking my guitar because music is always necessary and I'll probably end up doing a little writing too, but it will be in the relaxed surroundings of the country.

I'll update any progress upon my return,
Sam

Tuesday 10 June 2014

Success!

So, after a couple of weeks off from writing I've had plenty of time to develop ideas and I've pretty much worked out the entirety of the final third of Lay Me Restless. All that's really a mystery to me at the moment is the length of the final sub-plot, which I'm sure I'll work out pretty soon.

I got back to writing today and it's going pretty solidly. I have a really good feeling. No, I'm not going to finish this by my original target date, but I'm going to finish it pretty soon and it's my best work so far. Also, my promotion seems to have worked and I've really raised the profile of both of my previous books, especially 'In the Footsteps of the Behemoth'.

So, in all, a successful few weeks and a few more successful ones ahead.

Sam

The Behemoth

A creature born from the Planet itself, the Behemoth has stunted mankind's progression for a millennium. Its gargantuan size and skin of rock has made it impossible for the human race to overcome by force. Quite why it came into being is much debated. Is it a demon? The wrath of a vengeful god? Or was it born from the Planet as a way to defend itself from the destructive humans? Many have their theories, but, only now that this uneasy alliance hunts the creature, will the truth come to light.

Sunday 8 June 2014

General Grimoire Groan (In the Footsteps of the Behemoth)

Imbued with the gentle but stern wisdom of age, General Groan is a dutiful retainer to Lord Thean and a valuable asset to the Thean House. Though despite his experience, he can often be headstrong and stubborn, sometimes so blinded by his belief in his cause he cannot see the virtues of those who do not further the progress of the Thean House.
                Owing to this, Grimoire can often come across as abrasive, offending those around him with his staunch views. He is a strong believer in justice, doubting any who may have engaged in any activities deemed ‘dishonourable’. But, with so many differing motives in those around him, this may be a characteristic it would be best to be without.

Saturday 7 June 2014

General Distance Valentine (In the Footsteps of the Behemoth)

Approaching thirty, it would be fair to say that General Valentine has risen through the ranks of the Thean House quicker than most would expect, though with his tactical knowledge and skill with a sword, this is understandable. Yet, the pressures of his position seem not to faze him as he takes all obstacles within his stride and maintains a calm demeanour.

                Though this calmness should not lead to any underestimation. Distance believes in this ethics of the Thean House with ferocious veracity, ready to defend his Lord and cause against any attacker. Held in equal loyalty is his friendship with General Groan with whom he displays deep affection, respect and understanding.

Friday 6 June 2014

Darkla (In the Footsteps of the Behemoth)

Orphaned by an attack by the Riit Clan, Darkla has been raised mainly by Mirr, her life often affected by the warlord clans’ frequent appearances. Her life has been brightened by her relationships with those around her, especially Arvan with whom her friendship is seemingly indestructible. It is this trait, this ability to find love wherever it might lie, that allows her to maintain her cheery disposition and optimistic world view.

                Although prone to pensiveness, Darkla displays extreme strength and bravery in all walks of life, most probably enforced by her difficult life so far. It is this determination and her unwavering loyalty to her friend that spur her newfound sense of adventure.

Great King Eremmerus (In the Footsteps of the Behemoth)

The young and pressured ruler of the Final Resting Place of the Empire, many of Eremmerus’ policies and goals might paint him as something of an antagonist. It’s easy to see why; he is suspicious of all outsiders and aims to unite the continent by bringing the land under his control, by force if necessary.
                That said, he is a ruler who truly does want the best for his people, but the best way to go about that is not always clear. His quick temper could be construed in a number of ways. At such a young age, it is possible that the pressures of ruling a nation are too much for his limited experience; maybe he realises the seeming impossibility of his objectives; perhaps he was driven mad by the violence of the wars of that led to his ascension.

                One thing is clear. If Eremmerus has his way, there will be more war to come.

Thursday 5 June 2014

Exciting News

So, what's new?

After pushing myself into the final third of book three, 'Lay Me Restless', I haven't done any writing. This is an important, and deliberate, step to let the next few chapters form fully in my head. The next chapter's going to need to be very tender; not the sort of one I want to rush into.

But the big news is that I have a book signing! I've been saying for a few weeks that I've got something lined up in the future and the good news is that I basically have free rein with it! So, as soon as I've chosen a date I'll let you all know. I'm very excited. It's going to be a celebration of my books as much as a promotion thing, so it's all going to be great fun.

The next few weeks are looking very exciting.

Sam

Captain Lind Starling (In the Footsteps of the Behemoth)

Commander of the Great King’s Cavalry as well as the personal bodyguard of his ruler, Captain Starling approaches his duties with a wry humour; however all is not well around him.
                Once close friends with Great King Eremmerus (and perhaps more), their relationship has become strained owing to the Blood Lust Eremmerus has been suffering since the end of the War of the Wastes. A peaceful man despite the world of violence he has been thrust into, Starling battles with his Great King’s bloodthirsty policies at every turn, whilst also protecting himself under the guise of agreement. It is nothing more than his cunning intelligence and brief flickers of past affection from Eremmerus that have saved him so far.
                Insubordinate to the extreme, often only appearing to follow orders, Captain Starling could be viewed as a traitor. Conversely, he could also be seen as saving a great many lives by opposing his Great King’s destructive plans, making him one of the Final Resting Place of the Empire’s most loyal subjects.
                But as the politics surrounding him intensify, for how long can he keep both of his allegiances safe?


Wednesday 4 June 2014

Kyagorusu Kagaron (In the Footsteps of the Behemoth)

Ageless in both his trusting nativity and vast life experience, Kyagorusu thinks himself as something of a philosopher. He is, at times, worldly wise, displaying a sagaciousness that comes only from deep thought and intense study.
                However, this is second to his kindness which he gives freely to friends and strangers alike. His openness constantly sparks the same from those he comes across, until he meets those with something to hide. Though, with his trusting nature, Kyagorusu merely accepts the secrets for what they are.

                Yet, as he is pushed further into deciding the fates of so many, will these traits prove wise?

Tuesday 3 June 2014

Arvan Deit (In the Footsteps of the Behemoth)

An orphaned boy approaching manhood, Arvan has grown tired of his uneventful life in the small town of Farras. He here was raised, with best friend Darkla, by surrogate mother Mirr, his time enlivened by the frequent appearances of his teacher Lawliet Snow, the greatest swordsman in the world. But, when Master Snow goes missing, the boy who has craved adventures of his own for so long takes it upon himself to find him, plunging himself into a world of danger; of warlords, warriors, tyrannical kings and, most perilous of all, the Behemoth.
                Through these obstacles we are witness to Arvan’s staggering courage, but also the fragile confidence of youth. We see Arvan’s need for a teacher as his quest to find Master Snow leads him from mentor to mentor, each shaping his burgeoning adult personality and not all for the better.

                Arvan is compassionate and caring in a world that proves to increasingly cruel. As his adventure leads to ever darker paths, are these qualities he can hold on to?

Monday 2 June 2014

Vaiske Parlet (In the Footsteps of the Behemoth)

An infamous warrior shrouded by lacquered armour and a horrific, stylised mask, though its vibrant vermillion and bull horns rising from the helmet suggest anything but a wish to go unnoticed. He shows no small amount of skill in combat, using his spear in voracious and accurate attacks to render the numbers and talents of his foes obsolete.
                Furthermore, Vaiske displays incredible intelligence and cunning, manipulating those around him into siding with him in a variety of matters. His unflappable belief in his cause leaves him morally imbued with righteous determination, going to any length to ensure his success. And his cause is no small matter; the slaying of the Behemoth.
                He appears to be driven by a certain type of humanity, the desire to protect the populace from a creature that has thwarted the human race’s progression for a millennium. Vaiske claims he wants to bring peace to the land, ridding the Northern Continent of the warlords and uniting the land. But can a man who progresses his motives at the expense of so many others and whose methods are so extremely violent truly bring peace to the land?
               There are those who would doubt him.

Sunday 1 June 2014

Lament Strife (In the Footsteps of the Behemoth)

Coldly polite and taciturn by turns, Lament Strife can be a hard man for those he comes across to take to. The prevalent xenophobia on the Northern Continent and the fact that he is a shadus certainly does not help matters and add to this the gargantuan sword he carries on his back, we begin to see a man who perhaps does not wish to curb this feeling against him.
                On his way to a rendezvous he refuses to say anything about, other than that he must hurry, he often evokes suspicion from acquaintances and longer term companions alike. He says nothing of his past, often avoiding questions on it when asked, creating an air of mystery about himself. The fact that he may have something to hide deepens the distrust against him.
                Conversely, many of his actions suggest that he is, at heart, a good man, defending those he meets in situations he may not be expected to. Coupled with his tendency towards pensive sorrow, he draws fleeting sympathy from his companions, adding to their burgeoning, if uneasy, friendship.

                Lament Strife is either a man who values privacy or a man with something to hide. The safety of the group depends on it being the former.

Saturday 31 May 2014

Lieutenant Alrous DeFlare (Endless Tides)

As the long suffering subordinate of Captain Skyheart, it would be fair to say that Alrous DeFlare often comes across as world-weary. With the Captain’s aversion to work leaving DeFlare running Division Four practically single-handedly, his poor mood is, perhaps, understandable; doing the work of two people will leave even the most ardent workaholic discontented.
                Still, DeFlare is a dutiful subordinate to both the Thieronian government and Captain Skyheart; his loyalty to his Captain is unflappable, defending the flamboyant drunk from his many detractors despite the immense pressure placed on him by his immediate superior. That said, in the privacy of their strained friendship, DeFlare has no qualms making scathing comments at Skyheart’s expense.
                At his core, Lieutenant DeFlare is a man who wants to do what is right for everyone, often losing himself in the process. DeFlare is dutiful to all causes, but nothing comes above his loyalty to his position defending his nation.

                And woe betide any who would cross that.

Friday 30 May 2014

Paccon (Endless Tides)

A thoughtful and shy child, Paccon is ruled by his emotions, ranging from blissfully happy to deep, if fleeting, depression. Still, he is determined and brave, often resulting in a longing for an adventure he chases in a typically contemplatively way.
                Paccon finds the majority of his company in his pet baby turtle, Franklin, in whom Paccon displays staggering empathy and love. After being torn away from his mother, this relationship deepens, but Paccon also forms genuine bonds with those he meets on his enforced adventure, forming a strange group akin to a surrogate family.

                Through all this, Paccon’s determination to return home to his mother never falters. But, with so many new people to care for in his life, will saying goodbye be so easy?

Thursday 29 May 2014

Myri Harmoire (Endless Tides)

Orphaned by war at such an age that she cannot remember his parents, the now adult Myri has had a life in which she was forced to make a family of whoever was around. Though, following the death of her fiancé at the hands of a sea-serpent, ravaging their already impoverished fishing town, Myri falls into a deep depression, enforced by her searing loneliness.
                She finds solace in distraction, filling her time in efforts to help the town, until she finds the missing child, Paccon. Myri vows to take care of Paccon and help him find his way home back to his mother, only to find herself gradually taking her place, in her own heart if not the boy’s.

                But with the alleviation of her loneliness comes the fear of its return, tearing her between her love for Paccon and her promise to take him home.

Wednesday 28 May 2014

Captain Laike Skyheart (Endless Tides)

At first glance an arrogant and foppish man, it is something of a mystery as to how Laike Skyheart ever rose so high in the ranks of Thieron’s armed forces. His blatant self-interest, coupled with his complete lack of leadership qualities and obvious disdain for authority (not to mention hard work) should have been factors enough against his promotion, yet, in the highly class-driven nation of Thieron, it seems nepotism runs supreme; the mere fact the blood of his father, Commander Zenedin Skyheart, runs in his veins proving enough for his superiors to overlook his many faults.
                These many imperfections and the contempt shown to Captain Skyheart be his superiors and subordinates alike, may be factors towards his alcohol dependency. This could be construed as an outlet for low self-esteem at the hands of the poor opinion surrounding him, his arrogance nothing more than a shield against the destructive eyes of his professional world. Then again, it could just be hedonism.
                Captain Skyheart is notorious worldwide as the greatest swordsman of his time, a hero to adventurous children and a shining light to those trapped in the banality of everyday adult life. Yet, with the discovery of an ancient jewel, central to the mythology of Thieron, combined with the threat of impending war, can Captain Skyheart maintain his flamboyant personality whilst living up to society’s pressures?

                Endless Tides is, at heart, a character study of Captain Skyheart, a meditation on the cult of celebrity and a tale of the most difficult adventure of all; the quest for peace. 

Monday 26 May 2014

The Quest Continues

So, after gross amounts of overtime and intense writing sessions, I've finally pushed myself into the final third of 'Lay Me Restless'. It's an exciting prospect, but I'm reticent to put an end date on the draft. In my first and second books, this was the fastest part to write, yet, at the same time, I have a busy few weeks ahead of me so it's a little difficult to guess. Still, I feel very enthused.

My promotion has stepped up yet again also. I've managed to make a little noise on a few new book recommendation sites and I'm just being a little more organised about everything, which gives me more time to do everything and, more importantly, do it right. This has led to me, while not selling an awful number of copies on Amazon, sell my entire stockpile of copies locally. This is no small amount, adding up to thirty or so in the last two months. If all of those readers leave a review somewhere, that's a fairly significant amount of noise. I've also landed a book signing in an independent bookshop a few towns away which could prove lucrative. The exact details haven't been ironed out just yet, but they look to be next week! Updates to follow soon.

So, everything is going as well as expected. All that's left to do is to push ahead.

Sam

Tuesday 13 May 2014

Progress

So, what's new? Well, I'm making constant progress with book three of the Nameless Planet series. I'm really pleased with how all of the characters have come together and dynamic of the group is really interesting. These relationships are what really enthuse me about fiction and to be able to do them in a way that is nuanced as I'd planned is highly gratifying. What's more is that the end is in sight. It's still in the distance, maybe two months away from a complete draft and another few for the final draft, but I'm making very steady progress and I'm excited.

I'm in  talks with a few local bookshops about the possibility of some book signings. There's nothing concrete just yet, but I have a good feeling about it. Independent bookshops are so much easier to work with and are a lot more reasonable than the big names (who shall remain nameless, if only at the request of my lawyer, Jameson). But my point is that when you're dealing with people as opposed to faceless corporations, then it's a lot easier to achieve something.

I'm re-reading Cormac McCarthy's entire bibliography at the moment. It's really great for me because he's one of the reasons that I wanted to get into writing. His stark, yet vivid, descriptions and his work with language I find really interesting. I love any author with a really distinct style and this is something that McCarthy definitely has. Although he's inspired me, it's strange to think that my prose style is quite different to him. Every so often I like to use his bluntness as an effect, almost poetically, but when writing I'm always more drawn to the gossamer yet in depth prose of authors like Mervyn Peake. I suppose, without really trying to do so, my prose has kind of merged these two schools of thought with something completely of its own too, which is the whole reason I got into writing really. I have stories that I want to tell, but I want to tell them my way in my style.

I play video games too, which I'm not sure if I've mentioned on here before. In terms of storytelling and character I've always felt like these can be every bit as intense and gripping as a book and have definitely shaped my writing. Unfortunately, some public opinion seems to have a lot of backlash against video games and I'm hoping to be able to write a few articles soon to be able to confront this. Everyone's entitled to their opinion, of course, but it seems wrong, to me, to dismiss a entire medium of which there are millions of worlds to explore. Anyway, I'll save the entire thing for another day and when / if the articles appear I'll post links to them. There's a lot to be said.

So, as usual, I'm quite busy, but to be honest I wouldn't have it any other way. Now I must away to update my author biographies before writing 9000 words this week!

Remember kids, being an author is glamorous...

Sam

Friday 2 May 2014

I'm Back!

So, after a couple of weeks off from writing (my pen had some time off, my mind kept creating) this week I got back into it.It's fair to say this wasn't quite as productive a week as I had hoped for; between sorting out a few errands and coming back into the book with some quite difficult chapters to write, I only got about 4000 words done. This isn't the worst week ever, but I've done that in a day before, so I have mixed feelings. The good news, however, is that next week I have nothing to distract me and have chapters that are easier to write.

I've had this issue a couple of times with my previous books. Some chapters are just difficult to write. I do make a small mistake when I'm writing. My first draft is more like most author's second or third, in the sense that I add in a lot of detail in the first draft and edit as I go. A lot of writers say this is a bad habit to get into, but I disagree. Although every so often I hit a stumbling block with it, I'd argue it makes me more productive. Before starting writing for the day I like to read what I wrote the day before; if that's good quality (which it usually is) it really enthuses me to write that day and I end up getting a lot more done, brimming with inspiration. A lot of authors would say I'm wasting time, but I'm going to edit it all anyway, so I don't really see it as a huge problem if I change the time at which I edit it. If I do it earlier on, I could well save time down the line.

In other news, I was supposed to be giving a creative writing workshop at my old college this week. I had my lesson plan all sorted out (we were going to have a discussion about the creation of character) and I was really looking forward to it, but they had to pull out at the last minute. Most of the class had a History revision session that they couldn't miss. Apparently they have these things called 'exams' coming up? Who knew? Anyway, they said they'd like me to come in sometime after their exams are over, so I should be able to give the same talk in June or July. They a great, enthusiastic group and it's always really inspiring to talk to them.

So, I think that's all the news I have. I'll probably be posting some character biographies in the next few days, so keep checking back.

Sam

Friday 4 April 2014

O Snail, Climb Mount Fuji

So, in terms of writing this has not been my most productive week. I've had an onslaught of migraines and other related things which has made writing practically impossible. On the upside, I've got a lot of admin done, so, when next week rolls around, there should be nothing in my way.

My writing space is now completely free from clutter which should make writing a lot less full of distractions and I won't have other things like housework over my head. Also, I've been running a few plot points over in my head over the past week and they're starting to form. This includes a new character who's going to be introduced a lot later on and has, so far, only been hinted at. But, I think everyone's going to like Duke Blood Knightsea a lot.

In other news, I played a gig last Sunday that was very well received and I've managed to get a slot at a local music festival in the summer, so that promises to be very exciting.

So, while this hasn't been the most writing-full week (ah, to be eloquent...) it has been a fairly productive one, just not necessarily where I'd like it to be.

Wednesday 26 March 2014

A Stunning Return!

So, after a less-than-productive week last week, I seem to have come back shining this week. My energy's renewed, my enthusiasm's returned and I'm throwing out words like something that throws out lots of words (similes are not my forte).

I'm averaging about 3000 words a day so far, which is fantastic. I'm hoping to do 9200 words this week and it's very likely I'll hit my target. It's an ambitious one, no doubt, but I'm quietly confident this week. It's just a matter of getting on with it.

Other than that, there's not really very much to report.

I would just like to add a side-note. The immensely talented Jeff Jones has had some short stories accepted into a new anthology which has been released. It's worth buying just for his stories, I assure you, and you can find it here:
http://www.lulu.com/shop/thirteen-press/alien/paperback/product-21491658.html

Friday 21 March 2014

A Slight Stumble

Okay, so this has not been my most productive writing week in my life as an author. By virtue of my feeling pretty awful this week, I've written about one thousand words, which, in all honesty, is pretty terrible by all accounts. Still, every writer has the odd stumbling block.

Still, I'm an optimist, so, what this has given me the time to do is recharge a little. It hasn't been a complete waste of time because I've formed ideas in my head, thought about where the story for Lay Me Restless is going, and it's given me a chance to inspire myself; to take a look at books, films and video games I might not have without this little set back. So, in all, it hasn't been the fatal stumble I first thought.

Hopefully I'll be back to full productivity next week!

Tuesday 4 March 2014

The Man of Many Projects!

So, book three 'Lay Me Restless' is progressing steadily. I'd argue that you can never write a book quite as quickly as you would like to, but every time I sit down to write at the moment I make progress and it's always between 2000 and 3000 words, so I have nothing to complain about in that respect.

What is very exciting for me though, as a side project I suppose, is that I've finally managed to edit the musical a friend put in my hands a few months ago. I added a few bits of dialogue, pitched a few jokes (which, if he has even a modicum of a sense of humour will dismiss immediately) and rounded off the characters, just gave them a little more life and added a dimension or two to them. Anyway, they were absolutely thrilled with the result. Apparently, and this is the most exciting part of all, they have a producer who's interested in reading the script. Any author will tell you that it's not the easiest thing in the world to get an agent / publisher etc to read your manuscript, so being able to get a theatre and film producer to read the script immediately is pretty good going on the part of my friend. It's an exciting prospect and it'll be interesting to see what happens.

But, enough from me. It's pancake day and batter doesn't make itself!

Tuesday 25 February 2014

Inspiration

So, since everything's going well and there isn't really much to report, I thought I'd just do a few musings on the subject of inspiration this week.

Inspiration can be elusive, abundant or even inherent.Some people manage to find inspiration in places other people might not even think to look. One of my favourite pieces of writing ever is a chapter in Gormenghast by Mervyn Peake about the ticking of a clock. Clearly, Peake had heard a clock and the time it senoted as passing and felt inspired to write the passage. We all encounter clocks in our everyday life and time is a very interesting subject, though I wouldn't call a clock a particularly inspiring object. Of course, all it takes to find it inspiring is a slight change of perspective and we're left with a fantastic piece of writing.

Elusive inspiration can be frustrating for any creative person. To be yearning to create something but to not find that spark anywhere is a bane some know all too well, but can inspiration be manufactured? Is manufactured inspiration even inspiration at all? I would argue that art breeds art, whatever medium one is using. An author might re-read their favourite book to make them write. A musician might listen to their favourite album. A film maker might watch their favourite film. It's by no means a sure fire way to make yourself want to go and create something, or even give you an idea, but it might just re-ignite the passion for the medium.

We all have the things that inspire us, but maybe we should all be looking a little further afield. I've always found music, films, books, and even video games equally inspiring. Obviously every medium has its limits, I can't accurately recreate a song just by writing it down, you might be able to read the notes, but the emotion wouldn't seep through. However, all can tell a story and show characters and we can all learn about the different developments these show.

So, next time you're feeling uninspired, look at a different medium. Be the director who reads books or the musician who plays video games. And me? I might just start writing about clocks.

Monday 17 February 2014

In The Footsteps of the Behemoth Teaser

The moon lit the path languidly, piercing through the darkness with apathetic impulse. The breeze whispered by, calling names nobody heard.
            His heavy footsteps swept up clouds of dust around him; a metronome beat in the night. His thoughts hung burdensomely on his mind, intensifying the already vehement fear that he was too late. He tried to push such ideas away into some fathomless reach of his being, yet he had always been one to brood; a fault in himself he knew all too well.
            He paused, finding a tree beside him. Yes, he was perhaps late, though he was only a man and one who had been walking for days at that – he needed rest. Yet, just as he moved to sit beneath the ancient, dying tree, something caused him to halt. In the corner of his eye he saw but a wisp of vermillion, though it was enough to garner his attention and distract him from even his most tempestuous thoughts.
            He turned to where he had seen the curious effigy and looked further up the path. Of course, he was correct in what he thought he had seen; his were not the kind of eyes the light plays tricks upon. Indeed, the light venerated him, spurned him, would cast him away at each opportunity it was given to do so; he had known this for some time.
            He inspected the apparition, far away though it was. It stood like a man, with a shape that vaguely matched, though the colossal horns atop its head caused some confusion. Yet, upon noticing the substantial spear in the right hand, it all fit together. The horns were a feature of an arrogant helmet, worn by a man in vermillion lacquered armour. He stepped forwards, tearing himself from the shade into the light of the moon and revealing an iron mask, contorted into an expression of profound, anguished fury. The mouth; slung open into a violent roar. The eyes; bulging and wide, threatening disaster to all who believed themselves to hold the fortitude to gaze into them directly.
            The man in the vermillion armour seemed to regard the weary traveller. He tilted his head slightly, the angle gifting the expression on the mask an even more potent ferocity. Upon completing his examination, he took a step back as if to steady himself.
            “Who goes there?” he called, his gravelly voice echoing off the mask giving it a metallic tone. “Who goes there in such malevolent apparel?”
            The traveller took a moment to consider himself. He supposed that his black clothing was somewhat mysterious and his tattered, faded, crimson cape even more so. Yet, neither could match the suspicions that the gargantuan sword strapped upon his back wrought.
            The breeze swam by, catching his matted black hair, blinding him for a moment. When it ceased, his hair fell back into place, shrouding the left half of his pallid face and trailing over his shoulders.
            “A mere traveller,” he said. His voice was no more than an effortless whisper, yet it inexplicably reached the armoured man – distant though he was. He watched with his glowing amber irises as the armoured man regarded him with the same tilt of his head.
            “Of course,” he said in that metallic voice. “Pale skin, dark hair, amber eyes; you’re a shadus!”
            The shadus said nothing.
            “No doubt you’ve heard of me, shadus,” the man in the vermillion armour said. “I am none other than the infamous Vaiske Parlet.”
            The shadus ran his eyes over Vaiske Parlet.
            “I do not know the name,” he said.
            “I assure you,” Vaiske said in an angered tone that struggled past his mask, “it is a name that holds some weight.”
            The shadus said nothing.
            “Tell me, shadus: what is your name?”
            The shadus slowly raised his right arm and ran his hand through his thick hair, though his eyes never left Vaiske Parlet. He only answered once his arm had fallen back down to his side.
            “My name is Lament Strife,” he said.
            “Lament Strife,” Vaiske said, as if he was tasting the name. “Then tell me, Lament Strife, what brings a shadus to the Northern Continent?”
            “Personal business,” came the reply. “And business I must be getting back to at that. Excuse me.”
            He walked towards Vaiske with slow, dragging steps, his heavy black boots whipping up flocks of dust with each pace he made. His cape swam lazily behind him, beneath which the wooden hilt of his gargantuan sword poked out. As he passed Vaiske, the spear shot before him, blocking the path. Lament suspiciously rolled his eyes towards the warrior.
            “I’m afraid that answer doesn’t suffice,” Vaiske said, leisurely slanting the horrific mask in the direction of the shadus.
            “It is as much of an answer as I have,” Lament replied.
            He was now close enough to notice Vaiske’s mouth curl into a sly smile, though the warrior’s eyes still eluded him behind the iron mask. Lament peered into the apocalyptic face; what was disaster to him?
            Vaiske perpetually met his look, causing Lament to frown slightly. Gradually, the warrior’s smile faded.
            “Well then,” he said, “I’m afraid you go no further!”
            With this roar, Vaiske drove his spear at Lament, the shadus only avoiding the strike as he turned his back on the warrior, causing the tip of the spear to meet the gargantuan blade on his back. Lament drew the sword, pushing Vaiske away, only for the warrior to drive the tip at the shadus once more. Lament easily parried the strike, wielding the cumbersome sword as if it was a slight dagger.
            The wooden hilt should not have supported the blade as easily as it did, thin as the cylinder of wood was. The guard was a mere rectangular slither of oak attached to the top of the hilt, more for some kind of angular decoration than any practical purpose. The blade was sharp on only one side like a katana, though it held not even a hint of a curve. All in all, the sword matched the height of the shadus comfortably (the hilt alone was the length of his forearm) and, when on his back, the blade was almost as wide as him. But, despite all of this; despite the size, the weight, the impracticality of the sword; he swung it in one arm with ease.
            As the duel raged on and each strike was parried, blocked or dodged, the men became more desperate; the moon glinting off their weapons and singing death to the night. It was then, when his mortality seemed most upon him, that Vaiske drove his spear at Lament only to catch his cape, though the warrior struck with enough force to pin the shadus to the tree.
            Vaiske leapt backwards as Lament tried a wild swipe with his sword only to find the trap too constricting for such an attack. Vaiske laughed mechanically and knelt, taunting the shadus.
            Lament tore himself from the tree, ripping his cape in the process and found a haze in his eyes as Vaiske released dust from his hand. Blinded, Lament clawed frantically at his eyes, audaciously trying to regain his sight.
He turned, his eyes correcting themselves, and saw Vaiske kneeling upon the shadus’s moonlit shadow. The warrior drew a platinum dagger from his belt and plunged it into the ground on which his shadow was cast.
Lament fell, agony ravaging his entire body, trying to make sense of the sensation but finding nothing. Moments later, Vaiske was stood above him, the dagger in his hand; now obsidian black.
“Forgive me, shadus,” Vaiske said. “No doubt, although a stranger in these lands, you are a good man. More important still, you were a worthy opponent; I only overcame you through the use of my less reputable tactics, but please know this was nothing less than necessary.
“I know you can feel the life draining from you, so I shall be as brief as I can. Know that your death was not in vain. Indeed, here today, you have been a part of history, for this is the moment that that future generations shall look to as heralding the age of peace. Your death shall save many lives.”
Lament watched, amber irises still glowing in the world of black, as Vaiske Parlet, silhouetted by the crying moon, thrust the dagger into his own chest.
Darkness.

*

He left Farras, the town of his birth and childhood, as his mission dictated; under cover of night. There were moments that he feared the moon would exonerate him and whisper to his kin of his leaving. But the moon, and all light with it, was soon hidden behind a thick blanket of cloud. On he walked, passing the outskirts of his beloved hometown and into unknown fields.
Spring was slow in coming. The late winter air froze his lungs and restricted his blood as each breath drew yet more sharpness into him. His black robe did little to warm him, though he was thankful for the camouflage in the night.
But, as easily distracted as he could have been by the cold, only one thing was on his mind: where was Master Snow? His teacher had promised to return by the first sign of winter and yet now, with winter waning, he gave no indication of re-appearing.
Thusly, Arvan Deit, young apprentice to the greatest swordsman in the world, ventured into the impenetrable darkness of that night on his first adventure.

*

Rain, so complete to fall almost as a sheet, crashed down upon him as he watched the immense frame wander gracelessly away. The Behemoth, malevolent monster to most, harbinger of death to others, ignored the rain as only something of its size could. It towered above all, only mountains competing to succeed it in height. Fitting, for its skin was as hard as rock, save for the few places that its tangled fur grew from.
He chased after it, though he never managed to convince himself that he had even a shade of a hope of not losing it. One stride for the creature was one hundred paces for him and the lumbering beast was deceptively fast. Even if he’d had a horse he could never have kept up with it. How many times had he lost it now only to mistakenly happen upon it a few days later? Enough for him to have lost count some time ago, yet that was all he knew. He often considered submitting, but told himself that it was not an option; his research was far from complete.
It was then that he witnessed the most peculiar behaviour the Behemoth had exhibited yet. It stopped and turned, as if aware of his minute presence, fixing its listless white eyes upon him. They seemed not to comprehend him, but to encase him.
He should have been excited – such behaviour was unknown to him, even after the time he had studied the beast and there was nothing in the millennium worth of research he had read that suggested similar conduct. No, this was a new discovery. Though all he could think of was the oblivion that surely awaited him. The oblivion that awaited all who garnered the attention of the Behemoth.
The creature ruptured its mouth open and screamed viscerally.
His hand wrapped uselessly around the hilt of his katana. His usually calm heart sped to a beat he had never known before. Remembering every duel he had ever fought, he tried to ease himself in some meaningless effort of control, and inhaled slowly.
The listless white eyes left him and the creature turned away.
His heart fluttered as he realised he was still alive and supposed that, after the way of life he had been engaged in so far, he should have grown used to the threat of death. He sighed in a thankful breath as the breeze whispered past. He would not be joining it that night.
He held his white robe closer to him against the cold and continued to track the Behemoth. Though he smiled subtly, knowing he would lose it once more, soon enough.


Endless Tides Teaser


The benevolent, almost smiling, moon of that night spun a pool of light in the desert. Far beneath the sky the wind swept up flocks of sand making them waltz as if to a lament.
            Three men stood in the pool of lustre, locked in their struggle.
            The thief’s hands moved slowly to the pocket of his brown garbs, checking his loot was still there. It was, although he knew not for how long it would stay.
            The man in the crimson coat rested the blade of his katana on his shoulder; the blade, black, even in such magnificent, haunting light, seemed as stoic as the smiling man holding it. The hilt, as crimson as the man’s coat, gave an air of arrogance to the weapon. Two red ribbons swam from the hilt in the breeze.
            The third man, wearing a blue coat, was stood next to the man in crimson. His sword remained sheathed, yet something in his face whispered to the thief that he would use it more readily than his companion.
            The men were silent. Their thoughts were muted, mere images running in the reflection of a flowing mind.
            A lone black cloud crept across the sky obscuring, at first, only the stars, then, as it seemed to swell with night air, the moon. The pool of light disappeared leaving the men in darkness – a veritable nothing in the nothingness of the desert.
            The man in the crimson coat moved his shoulders wearily before tilting his head to the man in blue.
            “You want to kill him, don’t you, DeFlare?” he said. His voice was frivolous, yet a deep and soothing baritone. It shattered the silence instantly.
            DeFlare nodded.
“We have our orders.” He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
The man in crimson tilted his head back to the thief. The thief observed as the breeze blew his enemy’s chin length blonde hair, causing it to shroud his face. In the already thick darkness he thought it must have impaired the man’s vision at least slightly, though the thief knew not how to take advantage of this. The man in crimson ran his fingers through his hair, clearing his face of obstruction.
‘So much for that advantage...’ thought the thief.
“Do you know who we are?” the man in crimson said.
“You’re Captain Laike Skyheart of the Fourth Division, although, I don’t know your associate.”
Skyheart smiled.
“Actually, it’s Division Four,” he said. “But I’ll allow the mistake to go unpunished just this once. At this point the identity of my associate is unimportant.” His smile faded. “I assume you know why we’re here?”
The thief nodded.
“Give it to us,” Skyheart said, “and you’re free to leave.”
“We’re wasting time,” DeFlare said.
Skyheart held his free left hand out to the thief. The black cloud continued on its journey, washing the men in light once more.
The thief didn’t move.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” Skyheart sighed.
Lieutenant DeFlare began a slow, heavy walk over to the thief, his footsteps singing out, serenading the silence. The imposing figure constantly growing with shrinking distance caused the thief to shiver, though he told himself it was the cold. Unknowingly, he placed his hand in his pocket, grasped the jewel and, in a smooth sweeping motion, threw it to the Captain. Skyheart caught it in his free left hand, his sword in his right still resting on his shoulder.
“Thank you,” the Captain said.
DeFlare continued his advance. A glint of steel shone out in the desert and the sword being drawn from its wooden scabbard screamed. The blade cut through air, then man, then air once more.
The thief fell.

“We had our orders,” DeFlare said, sheathing his sword and neatening his short brown hair.
“Indeed we did,” Skyheart replied, “although, I never was one for following them.”
DeFlare turned and looked back towards to younger, yet higher ranking, man.
“We’ve a long walk home,” he said. “We’d best start now if we’re to be back by morning.”
“And so ends another adventure,” Skyheart said, placing the jewel in his pocket and sheathing his sword. “How long must we wait until the next?”
The two began the long walk back to Thieron, paying no mind to the dead thief, his blood colouring the sand a familiar shade of red as the viscous fluid seeped into the grained ground, as if at the request of the leaving men; their silhouettes shrinking in the distance, their long leather coats swimming in the breeze.

*

The sun reigned down on the island; their island. The only inhabitants were a mother, her young son and his pet baby turtle. They sat on the beach looking out at the calm sea doing nothing other than being.
The boy named Paccon stood.
“I’m ready now, Mama.”
She looked up at him smiling. He was wearing the tall pointed straw hat she had made him and his grey rags. His face was practically non-existent under the shadow of the hat’s rim, yet still she knew he was smiling.
He clambered into the fishing boat and she passed him the fishing-rod.
“My first time fishing alone,” he said, beaming. “What an adventure.”
“You be back by dark.”
“I will, Mama.”
“And if the waves get too strong you come back straight away.”
“I will, Mama.”
She kissed him and pushed the boat out, sending him on his self-deemed “adventure”. She waved as he rowed further out. He waved back and set the rod out, waiting for his catch.
The woman saw he was consumed with his fishing and returned to the hut. The adventure could begin.
He felt a tickling in the pocket of his rags and reached in. The baby turtle was revealed as he pulled his hand out.
“Franklin!” Paccon said, elated by his pet’s presence. He laughed, leaned back and lay in the boat.
He lazed the hours away doing nothing. He exhaled gently and the warm air from his body met the cool air of the sea, creating perfection. He sat up and checked the line. Nothing had bitten. He sighed and lay back down, looking to the sky. It was perfectly clear. Franklin clambered over Paccon’s chest eliciting yet more laughter from the boy. After a few minutes the combination of the peacefully buoyant sea and perfect temperature led Paccon into a deep darkness. A deep nothingness. A deep sleep.

Back on land, the woman stepped outside of the hut onto the rocky beach – a collage of grey against the blue of the sea. She looked to see him, but instead saw the sky’s new blackness. Heavy clouds had drifted in from the north. She ran to the shoreline but still she couldn’t see him. She screamed out for her son to return but her voice fell silent on the air. She screamed again but was masked under a symphony of thunder. Rain crashed free of the clouds. She ran back to the hut, praying to any deity that might be listening to bring him home safely.

He woke to the sound of thunder; an antagonistic, violent roar from the heavens ripping through his ears. The seas, before so pleasantly buoyant, now attacked the fishing boat with visceral impact. The whining wind, winning in a contest against the terrified boy, caused the boat to spin in the apocalyptic waters.
“Mama!” Paccon screamed.
He reached for the oars only to find they had long been blown or swept away. Franklin clambered back into Paccon’s pocket finding what little sanctuary there was. The boy screamed again.
“Mama!”
The wind made its final assault, lifting the boat, boy as well, from the sea and carried them further into the night.

*

The flowers had long been blooming in the garden. Blossoms of pink and white sprouted from the soil beds and high bushes, obscuring her garden from prying eyes.
The young woman placed a bouquet of red blossoms onto the first of three graves.
‘Here lies Lawce Harmoire,
Beloved husband and father taken in The Mineral Wars.
He is dearly missed.’
She moved onto the next, placing blue blossoms.
‘Here lies Farr Harmoire,
Beloved mother who took her own life in The Mineral Wars.
She is dearly missed.’
She moved onto the next grave, removing a previous wilted bouquet of ambiguous origin and replacing them with black blossoms.
‘Here lies Kote Venar,
Beloved fiancé of Myri Harmoire.
May we finally be wed in time, my dearest?
When next we meet, perhaps fate will be less cruel.’
            She stood facing the ground for a few minutes experiencing a familiar itching behind her eyes. A feeling she had felt so often as a child and on days like that one. A tear made its way to the outside. More followed.
            Myri fell to her knees and clutched at her heart, with every will and intention to tear it out. Alas, she could not. She knelt there shrieking lightning in the graveyard garden. A garden in full bloom of life yet containing an equal amount of death. And that death was growing.
            “How long?” she asked her fiancĂ©’s headstone. “How long until we are reunited? Have the Gods not toyed with me enough?”
            Tears turned to a river, birthing from her eyes.

            She heard thunder approaching her town of Port Fair. Consumed in her sorrow she continued to cry, mourning the long dead and new dead for as long as she could bear or as long as she could before she was stopped. Stopped before it was her time to be mourned.