Okay, here we go. This past Monday, I posted a song that is like a hype video for my November, but I'm just vibrating at this point. Sorry, I know it's Halloween and all but there won't really be any trick or treaters, will there? No fancy dress at the Renn Faire to prepare. Just all nano all the time and y'all, I am here for it.
I am especially here for it after this past week of stress and awful that culminated in a 36 hour power outage and a new-to-me car. Whew!
I said in my last post that one of the things I do is work up a playlist for the month, and even though I add to it as I go along and get inspired I have it pretty much ready to go. You can check it out here if you like (and you use Spotify). I'm doing better about being a plantser, which is a combination of a plotter and a pantser. I have an idea of the plot, I have been sketching on Twitter using the #vss365 prompts, and I know my MC's first name: Scarlet.
I also have a series title: Wraiths of Appalachia. That is, as is everything right now, a placeholder. It may become the title, who knows. But it gives me a label for my Google drive folder. Now if I can just get off Tiktok long enough to string some words together...LET'S DO THIS THING!!
We are coming up on Halloween and, oddly enough, the end of October. I'm sure it was just March a few days ago, wasn't it? I'm planning my nano this time, and what that means is that I am telling everyone that it is a ghost story and plotting the Spotify playlist. You plan your way, I plan mine.
Today's musical selection is more a general nod to the entire Nanowrimo process. I always look forward to Nano months because I just love writing so much. I love telling stories. I love seeing things come out in the process that I had no idea about in October. I love it when my characters run amok and keep me honest in telling THEIR stories. This song, to me, is like a hype video before a football game, and y'all, I am READY.
Eye Of The Storm Watt White
I am the eye of the storm Inside I am silent and strong Just waitin' for the right (right) moment to strike Coiled like a cobra
I (Ooh oh oh oh oh) I (Ooh oh oh oh oh) I (Ooh oh oh oh oh)
I am the eye of the storm
Wind (wind) howling in my face Tearing up the asphalt I'ma getting up in the place Run, run no where left to hide I must take a stand now Find the strength inside! Welcome to the vortex Absolute ground zero of my heart Pinicle of the apex Nothin's gonna tear my soul apart
I am the eye of the storm Inside I am silent and strong
Just waitin' for the right right moment to strike Coiled like a cobra coming to life
I am the eye of the storm Inside I am silent and strong Just waitin' for the moment Never see me comin'
I (Ooh oh oh oh oh) I (Ooh oh oh oh oh) I (Ooh oh oh oh oh) I am the eye of the storm
I (Ooh oh oh oh oh) I (Ooh oh oh oh oh) I (Ooh oh oh oh oh) I am the eye of the storm
Pain, pain trying to make me break But, I'm like a fortress Nothing can penetrate When it gets hard I don't even flinch Fear is not a factor I would give 'em an inch Welcome to the vortex Absolute ground zero of my heart Pinicle the apex Nothin's gonna tear my soul apart
I am the eye of the storm Inside I am silent and strong Just waitin' for the right, right moment to strike Coiled like a cobra Coming to life
I am the eye of the storm Inside I am silent and strong Just waiting for the moment Never see me comin'
I (Ooh oh oh oh oh) I (Ooh oh oh oh oh) I (Ooh oh oh oh oh)
I am the eye of the storm Storm clouds storming This is your (final warning) Uuooh oh ah aah!
I am the eye of the storm Inside I am silent and strong Just waiting for the right right moment to strike Coiled like a cobra Coming to life
I am the eye of the storm Inside I am silent and strong Just waiting for the moment Never see me comin'
Ooh oh oh oh oh Ooh oh oh oh oh I am waiting for the moment Ooh oh oh oh oh Never see me comin'
Ooh oh oh oh oh Ooh oh oh oh oh I'm just waiting for the moment Ooh oh oh oh oh Never see me comin'
Right, so this past weekend I attended the Broadleaf Writers Association's 5th Writers Conference and, as usual, came away exhausted but full of new ideas and energy and a love for the craft of writing.
I also came away with a new appreciation for planning out a novel before just diving in willy-nilly. I can't promise I'm going to keep this up, but for now, I'm declaring my pantser days are...comin' to a middle, to badly paraphrase Firefly.
I attended the Planning/Pantsing Workshop on Sunday, and one of the panelists, Abbot Kahler (a nonfiction writer) mentioned marking important things that will affect characters in outlines. Like if you plan that Event A will happen and know that Character B will have Reaction C to that event, mark it in your outline/prep work so that you will remember it.
Bells and whistles went off in my head as I thought about my new organizational scheme that involves the longest spreadsheets you've ever seen - one of which is in the photo above. I was sorting through my Google Drive one day, looking for something, and it occurred to me that all my story bible work was done in various google docs, some of them overlapping in material, and I needed to rearrange that biz so that I could use it.
I would like to say that it didn't matter so much at first because all my dog books were basically stand-alones and there were only three Orana books to worry about, but then Orana took over my life and now there are five that are published with another four in various stages of draft just waiting in my Drive to see the light of day. Five books and so far about 80+ characters to keep up with is well more than can be handled in a simple Google doc.
Now there are loads and loads of templates for creating story bibles out there, and even specific software that will help like Scrivener. I wish that had worked for me. I wanted it to work. I neeeeeeded the corkboard page on my screen with the index cards. But it did not.
Before I continue, I must be honest and tell you that I HATE Excel. I have to use it for the DayJob™, and it brings me nothing but heartache and frustration. My poor office mate who is an Excel Guru must have some sort of pre-emptive warning that I've just opened Excel because my questions are greeted with a hearty, "but what were you TRYING to do this time?" So the mere fact that I am using it to catalog languages and homeworlds and eye color is amazing and horrifying in equal measure, I promise.
So here's what I have done: I have a tab in the spreadsheet for each novel set in the Orana story universe. So far there are three in the Nature Walker Trilogy, two in the Tales of the Forest War, a standalone, and three in the upcoming Guardians of Orana series. Then I just start listing what I think is important to remember for each character: Full name, title, nickname, hair color, skin color/tone, eye color, etc. all the way through to how the character died and who was involved.
This has already helped as I am working on editing one of the Guardians novels, and I've found inconsistencies - if Nel has blue eyes in the NWT she should not have green eyes in the one I'm editing. But there is another level: the plot outline. I decided to take some time and go through each novel that I've written and put the plot into a separate spreadsheet. Busy work? Maybe, but this way I can chart the important developments that may affect later scenes, just like Ms. Kahler was talking about in the panel on Sunday. I've even marked things like 'IMPORTANT: First time Character A calls Character B by important plot point nickname.' That sort of thing will, so my Excel gurus tell me, enable me to sort by important plot points, thus making it easier for me to plan future novels in advance.
Yep, you heard that right, I'm actually working now on planning my Nanowrimo 2020 project IN ADVANCE. WITH SPREADSHEETS. AND RESEARCH. WHO AM I?
I hope this is helpful, and if not, it is at least amusing. I would also love to know if you have ways to use tools such as Excel for noveling purposes. For now, though, I'm going to go figure out the sort function. What could possibly go wrong? :)
[Their story is coming, for those who have laughed along with and fallen in love with the most unlikely duo in all of Orana.]
So, I was first introduced to this song by a Rennie friend of mine when he mentioned how perfect it was for a workout. Y'all, I am so far away from a workout if it involves leaving my house...but it ended up in my Music from Orana rotation and I had never associated it with any one character or place until recently.
I've been doing some drafting for the Guardians of Orana series where I want to be able to tell the backstories and current exploits of the cast of characters from the Nature Walker Trilogy, and this song is just Elys and Hack. Their unlikely friendship hit like the thunder before the lightning. Readers of the trilogy know Elys's backstory and how she never takes anything for granted. She is the line in the first verse that is dreaming of bigger things. Hack is the lightning strike that either illuminates her way or blasts it clear for her - sometimes/often both. Conversely, Hack is the thunder that warns the enemy - Elys does love to burn things, just like a lightning bolt.
Also, Imagine Dragons. Y'all. Perfection. Have a listen.
I posted last week about finally feeling like a part of the Supernatural Family when this song came on the radio in the car and I subjected my partner to a diatribe explaining how the lyrics just perfectly fit with the events in the tv show. I have been binge watching this show all summer with the goal to have 14.5 seasons under my belt before the last half of season 15 starts in October.
The new season started last Saturday, and I'm still on season 6. But I carry on because this show is JUST SO GOOD. The first few episodes seemed slow, but like any book or series, the slow burn has been worth it. SO worth it! I'm just sorry that I was a total idjit and let this show pass me by for the past 14 years.
Now, if you'll excuse me, blogger picks the music, reader shuts their cakehole.
Carry On Wayward Son
Kansas
Carry on my wayward son For there'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more
Once I rose above the noise and confusion Just to get a glimpse beyond the illusion I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man Though my mind could think I still was a mad man I hear the voices when I'm dreamin', I can hear them say
Carry on my wayward son For there'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more
Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, it surely means that I don't know
On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune, but I hear the voices say
Carry on my wayward son For there'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more
Carry on, you will always remember Carry on, nothing equals the splendor Now your life's no longer empty Surely heaven waits for you
Carry on my wayward son For there'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more
[For everyone that is currently thinking that Nelenie didn't have a surname, she does. I just haven't gotten that book published yet. So, as per usual, SPOILERS and YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, etc.]
There has been a topic floating in a fantasy writer's group I belong to for a while now. It ebbs and flows and resurfaces. "Do you feel inspired by music/Do you have music on while you write?" The five or six of you that are regular readers of the Lettuce know the answer for me, but it has been interesting to see how much my experience is not the norm, at least because I listen to music with words. Many of my colleagues in that group listen to ambient music/sounds or instrumentals only. Does that mean I'm cheating because I'm listening to music with lyrics that speak to me about my characters?
Nope. At least, I don't think so. Everyone is inspired by something, and this inspires me to create them. I think that's fair.
So, this week, a minor character turned major character as the story moved along. Nel and Gin grew up as friends until the differences between the Alynatalans and the Aynamaedeans pulled them apart. Their friendship influenced Nel's relationship with Elys and Tairn's reverence for Gin as a mother figure. Gin's feelings of inadequacy took root when Ben chose Nel over her. Not so minor, eh?
I have been thinking about her because she resurfaces in Guardians of Darkness, the beginning of the Guardians of Orana series and because the woman that inspired her is a good friend of mine who is accomplishing amazing things against incredible odds. So as I always do, I sat with a few songs before I found one that really is Nel's song to me.
Nel experienced so much upheaval during the events of the Nature Walker Trilogy. Her life changed when she came of age and realized that she and Gin were different. Her life changed when she followed the path of a warrior rather than a magic-user and took on all the difficulty that choice entailed. Her life changed drastically when she bucked the system of her people and trained Elys, an Aynamaedean, to fight in the way that Nel was taught. Her life certainly changed when that relationship was discovered and reported - by someone she had loved and trusted for her entire life - and she was exiled, forced to live as a mercenary.
But with each trial, Nel held her head high and just got on with things. It's what drew her to Elys, I think because they are very similar in personality and threshold for surrender. But there comes a point where you have to just stop, reassess, and take the steps to get back on your path. The song "From Now On" from the musical/movie "The Greatest Showman" really spoke to me when I thought about Nel, and how she comes to that point - and I'll stop there before Nancy Spoilers spiral out of control.
From Now On
Zac Brown Band/Hugh Jackman
I saw the sun begin to dim And felt that winter wind blow cold A man learns who is there for him When the glitter fades and the walls won't hold
'Cause from then, rubble What remains can only be what's true If all was lost, it's more I've gained 'Cause it led me back to you
And from now on, these eyes will not be blinded by the lights From now on, what's waited 'til tomorrow starts tonight Tonight, and let this promise in me start like an anthem in my heart From now on, from now on
I drank champagne with kings and queens The politicians praised my name But those are someone else's dreams The pitfalls of the man I became
For years and years, I chased their cheers At the crazy speed of always needing more But when I stop and see you here I remember who all this was for
And from now on, these eyes will not be blinded by the lights And from now on, what's waited 'til tomorrow starts tonight Starts tonight, let this promise in me start like an anthem in my heart From now on, from now on, from now on
And we will come back home And we will come back home, home again And we will come back home And we will come back home, home again And we will come back home And we will come back home, home again
From now on, these eyes will not be blinded by the lights And from now on, what's waited 'til tomorrow starts tonight Starts tonight, and let this promise in me start like an anthem in my heart From now on, from now on, from now on
And we will come back home And we will come back home, home again And we will come back home And we will come back home, home again From now on, from now on, home again
It felt like October around here for a while last week, but now we are firmly back in August/September. October means faire season, under normal circumstances. It means leaving the house at O'Dark-Thirty to drive two hours and then work all day outdoors with one of my hounds at my side. I may be an accidental Rennie, but a Rennie I am all the same, and I miss it.
Even though my participation there has been tremendously scaled back, my mind has been drifting to a created village in Huntersville, NC, and all the performers and 'fairemly' that I see there every year. I have wished I could have a steaming mug of chai in my hand, trying to keep the excited wolfhound at my side walking calmly so I can drink it rather than wear it. I've missed the shouts of Good Morning from the vendor stalls, seeing my breath (and Bryn's) in the air, and the quiet beauty of the faire before the gates are opened and the tens of thousands of patrons stream through.
I have always loved that part of faire - the part where it's just us there, the way it would be if the grounds were a real, functioning village. The writer (and well-buried actor, if I'm honest) in me loves walking along, imagining that I'm my character: an Irish lass sent with an Irish Wolfhound as a gift for Her Majesty. I love the sway of my hoopskirt as I walk. I love the street performers and vendors already in character, addressing me as 'My Lady' and asking to pet the magnificent beastie at the end of my leash.
She loves it too - though, in recent years, Bryn has been less apt to stay on a bed in the building we lovingly refer to as the Dog Barn, preferring instead to pull me out to the front to see the people. Ciaragh is the exact opposite - she is unnerved by large crowds and would happily stay glued to a dog bed all day if only the raised beds weren't the proper size for a greyhound and she finds herself slipping off of them onto the floor.
But neither of the big faires where I work with my dogs happened this year, and the smallish local faire made the decision to close permanently. I keep forgetting how long it has been since one of my girls has surveyed her people from the joust platform in the Southern Kingdom (the Georgia Renaissance Festival) or taken that leisurely walk pre-cannon in the lanes of the Northern Kingdom (the Carolina Renaissance Festival). I forget until one of them noses her way into the guest room-turned-pandemic supply storage and happens upon my straw hat or a stray glove. They press their nose against it, wringing out the last smells of FAIRE, and then look up at me and wag.
We're holding onto those last smells, the images like the ones above, and the lifelong friendships formed in the early morning fog, over mugs of chai and corset lacing, until we can do all of it again in person. Huzzah, well met, and on to the rest of October!
New month, back to Orana and specifically to Taeben and Gin in Tempest. I know, the first thing a lot of my readers think when they see Taeben's name is that hashtag #benisadick that goes around. I mean, he's the bad guy, so he is supposed to be, right? Today, though, I want to present you with another view of him. This is a view that I got called out for pushing by one of my beta readers. I have a tendency to see the best in people, even when they don't deserve it, and the feedback was that I was giving Taeben so much grace that he wasn't even a bad guy anymore.
Some writers can create two dimensional bad guys who are like the little girl with the little curl, but I am not capable of that. I wanted people to know all sides of him because to me, that makes the reaction to him when he is bad more visceral, more shocking. This was the idea behind Tempest, to show the relationship between Taeben and Gin, so that his later behavior is even more awful and hard to believe. But I went too far, I think, at least for that beta reader - and, in truth, for me I suppose. Y'all, if I had kept on the way I was headed Taeben would have been completely unbelievable as a villain.
So, to the point of this being a Music Monday post - I heard today's song, Silent Lucidity, in a TV show I was watching recently (ok, I will admit it was Supernatural and I'm trying to binge watch 14.5 seasons before October because I am late to that bandwagon) and I remembered that I loved that song back during the time that I was heavy into my MMORPG that inspired the Orana Chronicles. That was the time that I knew the person that inspired Taeben. It all fell into place as I was driving yesterday and heard the song again. That is what I was trying to convey in the relationship between Taeben and Gin. Maybe he was always bad. Maybe he had malicious plans for Gin well before the events of the end of Wanderer when he pulled Sath and Gin apart.
Maybe this is Taeben and Gin in an alternate reality. Maybe this is Taeben's plan that went awry. Either way, I sat with the lyrics of this song for awhile after I got out of the car, and I couldn't get away from Taeben and Gin.
I'm calling this a Notes from Exile and not a Music Anything, because technically it isn't Monday, and this post just came to me as I sit here listening to the amazing Alicia Keys. This song, "Good Job" is just a balm for the soul and it is what I needed to hear this week, this day, this very moment. We spend a lot of our time these days just getting by, but we have a very human need not just for connection but to be appreciated. We need to know, from an external source, that we are doing a good job. We aren't just surviving, we are thriving as best we can under the current circumstances. Here we are on the cusp of yet another month, and times are really becoming scary and overwhelming, but we aren't giving up, at least not yet.
I can just hear my dear friend Robby's voice doing his best Casey Kasem impression here, but I'd like to send this long-distance dedication out to all of you that are struggling, all of you that are unsure or those that are sure you don't want to do this anymore, whatever THIS is. I hear you. I see you. And to quote one of my new favorite Instagram/TikTok creators, Thaddeuss Shafer, "you are precious, loved, and worthy," and you're doing a really good job. Stay strong.
Good Job Alicia Keys
You're the engine that makes all things go And you're always in disguise, my hero I see your light in the dark Smile in my face when we all know it's hard There's no way to ever pay you back Bless your heart, know I love you for that Honest and selfless I don't know if this helps it but Good Job You're doing a good job, a good job You're doing a good job Don't get too down The world needs you now Know that you matter Matter, matter yeah You're doing a good job, a good job You're doing a good job Don't get too down The world needs you now Know that you matter Matter, matter yeah Six in the morning As soon as you walk through that door Everyone needs you again The world's out of order It's not as sound When you're not around All day on your feet, hard to Keep that energy, I know When it feels like the end of the road You don't let go You just press forward You're the engine that makes all things go Always in disguise, my hero I see a light in the dark Smile in my face When we all know it's hard There's no way to ever pay you back Bless your heart Know I love you for that Honest and selfless I don't know if this helps it but Good Job You're doing a good job, a good job Good job You're doing a good job Don't get too down The world needs you now Know that you matter Matter, matter yeah It's a good job You're doing a good job, a good job Good job You're doing a good job Don't get too down The world needs you now Know that you matter Matter, matter yeah The mothers, the fathers The teachers that reach us Strangers to friends That show up in the end From the bottom to the top The listeners that hear us This is for you You make me fearless You're doing a good job, a good job You're doing a good job Don't get too down The world needs you now Know that you matter Matter, matter yeah
[Again, spoilers ahead for Rift, read at your own risk.]
Oh, what a tangled web. You have Madelyne, who thinks that she knows Alex. She hears his voice through her headphones every night. They share inside jokes and memories of times spent in a virtual world. He listens. He understands. He is everything she has been looking for - and suddenly she has a way to be Em to his Lex.
This song makes me think of several scenes - Em, upon arriving in Tyrael and seeing it for the first time, then Em outside the cabin, looking up at the sky. Em receiving her tattoo. Em trying to separate Lex from Alex. "I'm gonna get you out of here/if I could catapult my heart to where you are."
I know, Imagine Dragons again. Is it my fault that their music is PERFECT for the movie adaptations in my mind? Hardly.
I had all but forgotten that I had this song on my playlist while writing Rift. I mean, any time you are writing any kind of fantasy novel, a song titled Demons is bound to be in the mix somewhere. But I took a second and really listened to the words today - this is Lex, all day long. Is he a monster? Is he Alex? Is he real?
[Really spoilery bit:] Lex struggles not with a lack of memories but with memories that he can't trust. He is anyone that has a past that has been purposely (or not) forgotten, who suddenly has to deal with the recurrence of who/what he used to be. But for him, it's worse - are any of those memories, good or bad, real? Or is he just an algorithm that has become self-aware? And through all of that, he feels so bound to Em - regardless of why he feels that way - that all he can do is try to protect her.
Anyway, this song is for Lex...please enjoy this version with another contender for my fantasy movie score, Halsey.
Yesterday I learned of the death of an author that had a profound effect on me as a wanna-be fantasy author, Terry Goodkind. While I did not read everything he wrote, I did read the entirety of the Sword of Truth series. A review of this series never made it to my book blog, Well Read, but I wanted to do an overview here, and tell you why I believe this to be an important series to read.
I am one of a few, I'm learning, who write fantasy but aren't really fans of the "classics" in the genre, such as - steady yourself - Tolkein. I loved the Hobbit when I read it in 4th grade (age 8/9) but I moved on immediately to try to read The Fellowship of the Ring. While I'm sure both of my parents thought me to be a reading prodigy and sort of a genius, that book fell flat with young Nancy and I will admit that I never picked it up to try again. To this day I have read bits here and there and seen the movies, but I just couldn't.
If you look at my list of life changing books, the genres are all over the place: Wuthering Heights (with a modern understanding of the problematic parts), The Historian, The Percy Jackson novels. It was probably not until I discovered The Sword of Truth series, at the recommendation of a good friend and fellow gamer, that I had the idea that I might like to write novels. I had written other books in niche genres, but you know that feeling when you are reading something and you think that either you wish you could live in that universe or "I wish I had written this?" Both of those applied to Wizard's First Rule.
As I said in my Facebook post about Goodkind's passing, "the Mother Confessor, the Seeker, the Mord Sith, even Darken Rahl were such well rounded characters, dancing right up to the edge of being a Mary Sue (Richard) but not faling into that trope."We all want to write the character that saves the world. Goodkind reminded me that you can do that as well as show all the trials and tribulations leading to that win, and still have the story of the everyman at the end of the novel - or series.
In addition to my life as a writer, Goodkind has also influenced how I think about my life as an interpreter. I have blogged before about how much I identified with the character of the Mother Confessor, Kahlan, in respect to my DayJob™ and interpreter decorum here:
Terry Goodkind has quickly become one of my favorite authors, and he describes in his Sword of Truth series a character who serves as a judge of sorts...she is called a Confessor, and he talks about her wearing her Confessor's face. I do that. I wear my Interpreter's Face. Impartial. Objective. A mask. The line "sometimes I wish someone out there would find me" rang out to me, causing me to recall those times that I stood outside the huddle of support, wishing for someone to hand me a tissue or take my hand in comfort...but remaining quietly in the background, Interpreter's Face on.
I've compared this before to the 'Confessor's face' that author Terry Goodkind created for his character, Kahlan Amnell, in the Sword of Truth fantasy series. Confessors are women that are born into a magical sisterhood and have the ability to discern truth from lies (by basically taking over the mind of the person and leaving them a slave to the Confessor, but that's beside the point here). From Temple of the Winds:
Kahlan was wearing her Confessor's face: the blank expression that showed none of her feelings.
We are taught as interpreters to do this - to an extent. We are conveying communication and by necessity that involves emotion, so I am never that 'blank,' but it is not MY emotion you are seeing. It should never be my emotion.
So I am properly mourning a life that never, ever, intersected with my own save through a recommendation heeded, a book series read/consumed, and inspiration sought and given. Thank you, Mr. Goodkind, for sharing your work with us and inspiring us to go forward, better understanding ourselves and our world.
In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. -part of the D'Haran devotion to Lord Rahl, Sword of Truth series.
Looks like I've worked at Waterstone's before, eh?
I recently took part in an online vendor showcase for Beach Bound Hounds, an event that I used to attend every year when I had greyhounds. As a result, I now find myself swimming in extra book stock, so I'm trying to find ways to make it pretty.
The yellow tote in that photo (and the one beneath it) is filled with BOOK SIGNING BITS AND BOBS and copies of The Nature Walker Trilogy and the Tales of the Forest War. I've stacked the rest of the stock waiting to be autographed and mailed out on top, and I think it creates an interesting visual representation of my career (hee hee!) as a writer.
The closest book to the camera is Proud Racer: An American Greyhound in Yorkshire, written in 2011 about my two years in Keighley but told through the perspective of my greyhound, Daisy. I JUST got that delivered TODAY because indie publishing cares not for deadlines nor my own sudden realization that I had no copies of it on hand. That's my beautiful Daisy's eye, there on the cover- which if you will indulge me a bit of self-promotion, is one of the best covers I have ever designed. Or maybe that's just me. Anyway... To me now, that book reads like it is telling someone else's story.
Just behind it are copies of Bryn's book, Clobberpaws, and Ciaragh's book, Clobberpaws, Too! and there are only a few of them (that I found, y'all, what are the odds?). The Irish Wolfhound Association of the Mid South blew me away last week ordering all the stock I thought I had and enabling me to make a donation of over $200 to the Heather Burns Memorial Fund for Veteran Hounds. I blogged about my friend Heather's death last week, and IWAMS set up this fund to help adopters and foster homes take in the hounds most dear to her heart, the seniors and those with medical issues. I'm just glad I could do something to help - though it doesn't come close to repaying all the help that Heather and IWAMS have given us since we brought our big girls into our family. Wolfhound STRONG.
Along the back, there are copies of Rift, Scorch (Tales of the Forest War), and Guardian (the last in the Nature Walker Trilogy) and I am looking at them like the Waterstone's Bookseller I was when I lived in the UK. I used to love days when I could just hang out in the stacks and look at all the books on the shelves. Now, that isn't a shelf, but it motivates me to do more/write more/be better so that one day that will be the shelf in a bookstore where the Nancy E. Dunne books are.
I'm still home, I'm still working remotely, and the pandemic rages on as people take unnecessary chances and chose not to wear masks. But this week I am happy and overwhelmed with the little writer life that I've created, and that makes a difference.
PS-no word back yet on the pages request I got as a result of #PitMad back at the beginning of September, but if nothing comes of it that won't end me. I feel that, for the first time in a long time, I'm doing what I'm meant to be doing, and that is enough for now.
Oh, this one is hard not to make spoilery. So hard. There are several interesting relationships in Rift, and this song - to me - speaks to all of them. I have long been a fan of Florence + the Machine, but I heard the original version of this song for the first time while writing Rift. It grabbed me around the heart and wouldn't let go - one of those times you hit repeat on Spotify, you know? Florence's voice is magical and ethereal, and this particular version reminds me of everything from how Em is in love with the night sky in Arcstone, to Valentin's terribly complicated heart. Enjoy, and make sure you look up the original and add it to your playlist. You will not be disappointed.
All This and Heaven Too
Florence + the Machine
And the heart is hard to translate
It has a language of it's own
It talks in tongues and quiet sighs
And prayers and proclamations in the grand days
Of great men and the smallest of gestures
In short shallow gasps
But with all my education
I can't seem to command it
And the words are all escaping me
And coming back all damaged
And I would put them back in poetry
If I only knew how, I can't seem to understand it
And I would give all this and heaven too
I would give it all if only for a moment
That I could just understand
The meaning of the word you see
'Cause I've been scrawling it forever
But it never makes sense to me at all
And it talks to me in tiptoes
And sings to me inside
It cries out in the darkest night
And breaks in the morning light
But with all my education
I can't seem to command it
And the words are all escaping
And coming back all damaged
And I would put them back in poetry
If I only knew how I can't seem to understand it
And I would give all this and heaven too
I would give it all if only for a moment
That I could just understand
The meaning of the word you see
'Cause I've been scrawling it forever
But it never makes sense to me at all
And I would give all this and heaven too
I would give it all if only for a moment
That I could just understand
The meaning of the word you see
'Cause I've been scrawling it forever
But it never makes sense to me at all
No, words are a language
It doesn't deserve such treatment
And all my stumbling phrases
Never amounted to anything worth this feeling
All this heaven never could describe
Such a feeling as I'm healing, words were never so useful
IWAMS members in the St. Patrick's Day Parade, Charlotte, NC. March 2018.
The Irish Wolfhound community lost one of its fiercest warriors, defenders, and supporters yesterday with the death of Heather Burns, a member of the Irish Wolfhound Association of the Mid South. Heather worked tirelessly to find placements for IWs that needed rescue/rehoming. She possessed a wealth of knowledge of the breed: history, temperament, health concerns, etc. I've put this picture up even though you can't see Heather and Mark in this shot, it is representative of who she was and why those of us lucky enough to have known her are grieving today.
This was the day before she drove our Ciaragh all the way from her home in NC (almost VA) down to us here in Greenville. Hubs came with me to the parade this time to watch from the sidelines and brought Willow-Pickle along for the ride so she wouldn't have to stay home alone. If you look right in the middle of the picture you will see her, straining to get out in front of all those long-legged wolfhounds because she was the security for the IW contingent. Simon happened to run into Heather along the parade route (I had already taken Bryn to the line-up point) and, being the force of nature she was, she managed to convince my 6'4" Yorkshireman and our snappy little terrier mix to come with her and join the parade. "Willow can be a Wolfhound today," she told him - which is exactly what Willow believed in her heart already.
You see, that was Heather. In a world of kennel clubs and rare breeds that could foster a sense of elitism and snobbery, Heather was there to make sure that everyone felt welcome at the table - at HER table, the Irish Wolfhound table. I was already familiar with her because she not only saved my bacon and my sanity plenty of times as we were raising Bryn, but she found members of Bryn's extended family that we didn't know about, like her litter brother, Barley, and his family, Tamara and Marc. Or Bryn's older sister Keira and her mom Stacie. Heather knew everyone and everything, and if she didn't know something you'd better believe she would find out for you.
What I knew from the time that I met her was that she had cancer and that it was terminal. She told me with a smile on her face and in her heart that her plan was to outlive the IWs she had (at the time I think there were three) so that when she passed, her husband wouldn't have that to deal with on top of everything else. Heather NEVER thought of herself first. So I knew that as I was saying hello to her, I was also getting ready to say goodbye. She was one of those warrior women that you just thought would live forever.
Go raibh cead míle maith agat, one hundred thousand thank yous, to Heather, for taking me under her massive wing and teaching me how to be a good mom to Bryn and Ciaragh - and for your example of strength, compassion, and love. I hope that your first stop was at a clear pond where your hounds were waiting.
Please visit my album in the Beach Bound Hounds Vendor Virtual Showcase, currently happening through 14th September 2020, to purchase your copies of the Clobberpaws books - 100% of the total sales of Clobberpaws and Clobberpaws, Too! paperbacks will go to the Irish Wolfhound Rescue of the MidSouth's Heather Burns Memorial Fund for Veteran Hounds, created to support foster homes and adopters of hounds that due to age/illness are difficult to place.
