Free on Amazon starting at midnight tonight!
JERICHO SOLUS!
Just wanted to give you the heads up!
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Prologue – The Story before the Story
I didn’t plan to write a prologue for
this story, but that changed as I neared the end of the book. I felt
some back story was needed. The entire book is written from a single
POV—Jeremy. For the prologue, I wrote through Johinda’s POV.
Enjoy:
Johinda met the scrawny young man, Jeremy, a few days ago, although she noticed many people simply called him Jer. The practice of shortening people’s names struck her as odd and something people didn’t do at home—Dyra, the fourth world of the Designer. She didn’t actively seek Jeremy and his band of misfits, most of who were hardly more than boys, including Jeremy. They had found her and brought her to this hidden shelter.
She’d heard stories of Jeremy, which most people attributed to folklore. He fought against the Supremacy, the oppressive power that ruled New Paradise City, as did she, although for different reasons. Jeremy fought for liberty and justice, equality and freedom; Johinda fought for revenge. Jeremy fought strategically, waging a covert war, spreading truth and propaganda; Johinda fought impulsively, brutally killing members of the Supremacy, sending a message to the other members that hurt her. She muttered “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” a line Jeremy said to her when they first met. She believed he said such things to win people’s trust, as if trusting any of these wretched people of Earth were possible. If she could, she would burn them all.
The people had degenerated to little more than intelligent animals, unwilling or unable to control themselves. Many people slothed around in a drugged state, able to function, but suppressed of strong emotions. The one desire they all had in common was to stay in their state of feel good oblivion, a state meticulously planned and systematically executed on the citizens of New Paradise City. The Supremacy, on the other hand, differed. They ruled and appeared slaves to their wants and desires; to their hunger for control; to their unchecked, salacious lifestyles. She had been on Earth for five years and had witnessed nothing remotely comparable to the peaceful society she had left. Dyra was far from utopia, but it was nirvana compared to this cesspool.
Johinda believed she was sent to Earth as punishment. Why else would the Designer send her to this Hell?
“Have some, lady,” Jeremy handed her the sandwich, made from real bread. “It’s not from the city. We grow and make the food ourselves.”
This was only the second time Johinda had met with Jeremy. She nodded and accepted the sandwich, peanut butter and jelly. “Why s’ould ‘ha ma’yer?” Johinda spoke with an impediment, a result from the soldiers cutting off half her tongue. It was a form of humiliation and it worked. Johinda spoke very little. Slicing tongues was something New Paradise City soldiers did to whores that refused to work or worked poorly. She wasn’t one of their whores that exclusively serviced the Supremacy, as they had believed, but it seemed the physical body her energy slipped into was. She had damned the Designer for playing such a cruel joke.
“The city food and water is processed with the dope that keeps the citizens in a numbed state—malleable and controllable.” Jeremy eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t know this?”
“Wha oo you wan from me?” Johinda spoke slowly, struggling to make the more complex sounds.
“Will you walk with me?”
Something about the young man drew her in, something in his deep blue eyes that brightened whenever he looked at her. He didn’t fear her as his band of boys did. As they strolled across a field, Jeremy explained, “The doping began fifty years ago. Our government approved medicine for the good of the nation.” Jeremy glanced at Johinda, waiting for sign that she listened.
“I unhershand,” Johinda whispered. For the first time since the soldiers held her down and brutally sliced her tongue, she felt ashamed of the way she sounded. This tall, gangly boy made her feel more self-conscious of her speech, looks, and mannerisms than anytime she could remember. The soldiers had not stopped their brutality at her tongue. She quickly repressed the images of that event, not wanting to lose control of her emotions in front of Jeremy.
Jeremy eyed her as if recognizing Johinda’s internal struggle. He continued with a softer tone. “They worked to suppress the aggressive nature of a growing percentage of the population. The dope targeted the most aggressive emotions and suppressed them. It was hailed as one of mankind’s greatest achievements and for a short time achieved a sense of harmony within our society as well as societies around the world.”
“All gone now,” Johinda said.
“Yes. It took five years for the problems to start. People gradually developed immunity to the dope. Even those people who would never had acted upon their aggressive thoughts, began to lash out. They dope had been distributed in the water supply and affected most of the people. Not just here, but around the world. It seemed once people developed the immunity, they had no control over their aggressive nature. The government response to this was to develop stronger strains of dope to quell the rising violence. Of course, this worked for a short time, but the cycle repeated until the government could no longer manage. They knew they were only putting gauze on a gushing chest wound. The people of power hid while the rest of us exploded with unrestrained aggression. It took a generation for the effects of the dope to wear away. We devastated ourselves. That was thirty years ago. It seems that while in hiding, they perfected the dope, found the problems with it and fixed it. Now we have this Supremacy that tracks the millions of citizens and programs that control individual lives. They determine who will marry, who will have children and how many, who will work where, and who will die. They think themselves Gods.”
“A’ents of ‘he ‘ark,” Johinda whispered.
“Agents of the Dark? You know something that the rest of us don’t…I can feel it and I never doubt my feelings. I can’t put my finger on it, but you’re not from here and yet there’s nowhere else to come from.” Jeremy spoke in a steady tone that belied his youth. His eyes stayed focused on the distance as if contemplating life’s mysteries.
Johinda found him strange and intriguing. She opened her mouth to ask about his feelings when a sharp sound cut through the air like a sword swoosh, sending them both to their bellies on the field. Explosions roiled the earth and rang her ears. She looked at Jeremy who lay unmoving. She rolled him over. His chest rose and fell. She called to him. Jeremy fluttered open his eyes and smiled. He spoke to her and it took a moment to realize he spoke her native language. As he told her a fantastic story, she scanned the surroundings, knowing the soldiers would come soon. She felt incredibly vulnerable in the open. Then the things he said drew her attention. When she looked up again, a man approached, aiming a pistol at her. She stood, facing the man. She had become too complacent. She should have never come out in the open with Jeremy. A bullet slammed into her head before she heard the shot. She was dead before hitting the ground.
Enjoy:
Johinda met the scrawny young man, Jeremy, a few days ago, although she noticed many people simply called him Jer. The practice of shortening people’s names struck her as odd and something people didn’t do at home—Dyra, the fourth world of the Designer. She didn’t actively seek Jeremy and his band of misfits, most of who were hardly more than boys, including Jeremy. They had found her and brought her to this hidden shelter.
She’d heard stories of Jeremy, which most people attributed to folklore. He fought against the Supremacy, the oppressive power that ruled New Paradise City, as did she, although for different reasons. Jeremy fought for liberty and justice, equality and freedom; Johinda fought for revenge. Jeremy fought strategically, waging a covert war, spreading truth and propaganda; Johinda fought impulsively, brutally killing members of the Supremacy, sending a message to the other members that hurt her. She muttered “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” a line Jeremy said to her when they first met. She believed he said such things to win people’s trust, as if trusting any of these wretched people of Earth were possible. If she could, she would burn them all.
The people had degenerated to little more than intelligent animals, unwilling or unable to control themselves. Many people slothed around in a drugged state, able to function, but suppressed of strong emotions. The one desire they all had in common was to stay in their state of feel good oblivion, a state meticulously planned and systematically executed on the citizens of New Paradise City. The Supremacy, on the other hand, differed. They ruled and appeared slaves to their wants and desires; to their hunger for control; to their unchecked, salacious lifestyles. She had been on Earth for five years and had witnessed nothing remotely comparable to the peaceful society she had left. Dyra was far from utopia, but it was nirvana compared to this cesspool.
Johinda believed she was sent to Earth as punishment. Why else would the Designer send her to this Hell?
“Have some, lady,” Jeremy handed her the sandwich, made from real bread. “It’s not from the city. We grow and make the food ourselves.”
This was only the second time Johinda had met with Jeremy. She nodded and accepted the sandwich, peanut butter and jelly. “Why s’ould ‘ha ma’yer?” Johinda spoke with an impediment, a result from the soldiers cutting off half her tongue. It was a form of humiliation and it worked. Johinda spoke very little. Slicing tongues was something New Paradise City soldiers did to whores that refused to work or worked poorly. She wasn’t one of their whores that exclusively serviced the Supremacy, as they had believed, but it seemed the physical body her energy slipped into was. She had damned the Designer for playing such a cruel joke.
“The city food and water is processed with the dope that keeps the citizens in a numbed state—malleable and controllable.” Jeremy eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t know this?”
“Wha oo you wan from me?” Johinda spoke slowly, struggling to make the more complex sounds.
“Will you walk with me?”
Something about the young man drew her in, something in his deep blue eyes that brightened whenever he looked at her. He didn’t fear her as his band of boys did. As they strolled across a field, Jeremy explained, “The doping began fifty years ago. Our government approved medicine for the good of the nation.” Jeremy glanced at Johinda, waiting for sign that she listened.
“I unhershand,” Johinda whispered. For the first time since the soldiers held her down and brutally sliced her tongue, she felt ashamed of the way she sounded. This tall, gangly boy made her feel more self-conscious of her speech, looks, and mannerisms than anytime she could remember. The soldiers had not stopped their brutality at her tongue. She quickly repressed the images of that event, not wanting to lose control of her emotions in front of Jeremy.
Jeremy eyed her as if recognizing Johinda’s internal struggle. He continued with a softer tone. “They worked to suppress the aggressive nature of a growing percentage of the population. The dope targeted the most aggressive emotions and suppressed them. It was hailed as one of mankind’s greatest achievements and for a short time achieved a sense of harmony within our society as well as societies around the world.”
“All gone now,” Johinda said.
“Yes. It took five years for the problems to start. People gradually developed immunity to the dope. Even those people who would never had acted upon their aggressive thoughts, began to lash out. They dope had been distributed in the water supply and affected most of the people. Not just here, but around the world. It seemed once people developed the immunity, they had no control over their aggressive nature. The government response to this was to develop stronger strains of dope to quell the rising violence. Of course, this worked for a short time, but the cycle repeated until the government could no longer manage. They knew they were only putting gauze on a gushing chest wound. The people of power hid while the rest of us exploded with unrestrained aggression. It took a generation for the effects of the dope to wear away. We devastated ourselves. That was thirty years ago. It seems that while in hiding, they perfected the dope, found the problems with it and fixed it. Now we have this Supremacy that tracks the millions of citizens and programs that control individual lives. They determine who will marry, who will have children and how many, who will work where, and who will die. They think themselves Gods.”
“A’ents of ‘he ‘ark,” Johinda whispered.
“Agents of the Dark? You know something that the rest of us don’t…I can feel it and I never doubt my feelings. I can’t put my finger on it, but you’re not from here and yet there’s nowhere else to come from.” Jeremy spoke in a steady tone that belied his youth. His eyes stayed focused on the distance as if contemplating life’s mysteries.
Johinda found him strange and intriguing. She opened her mouth to ask about his feelings when a sharp sound cut through the air like a sword swoosh, sending them both to their bellies on the field. Explosions roiled the earth and rang her ears. She looked at Jeremy who lay unmoving. She rolled him over. His chest rose and fell. She called to him. Jeremy fluttered open his eyes and smiled. He spoke to her and it took a moment to realize he spoke her native language. As he told her a fantastic story, she scanned the surroundings, knowing the soldiers would come soon. She felt incredibly vulnerable in the open. Then the things he said drew her attention. When she looked up again, a man approached, aiming a pistol at her. She stood, facing the man. She had become too complacent. She should have never come out in the open with Jeremy. A bullet slammed into her head before she heard the shot. She was dead before hitting the ground.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Editing - Rinse, Spit, and Repeat
I’m in that ‘fun’ stage of editing where I open a chapter I wrote weeks ago and read the scene with fairly fresh eyes. Wait, what’s this? How did he get in this scene and what happened to Beth, my trusty sidekick? Where did she go? Crap (smack hand to forehead). Now it’s time to add and takeaway…it’s time to think of more witty lines for Beth’s dialog. Reread for flow. Recheck for overuse of passive verbs. Wait, who’s this talking? Double check my tags. Why is Jeremy smiling here? For Christ’s sake, somebody just got sucked dead by a nilas…there’s nothing funny about that—expression adjustment. Come on, Jeff, get rid of the ‘I saw’, ‘I heard’, ‘I smelled’, ‘I felt’, the reader already knows who the POV character is—let’s tighten it up! Is it passed or past? Further or farther? Lay or laid? Hell, I can never remember, let me look it up. Rinse, spit, and repeat. Yup, this is the ‘fun’ stage of editing…another chapter down.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Reaching the End
Okay, it’s been a will since my last post and I have an excuse. I’ve been spending my rationed writing time, well, writing my book. It’s an awesome feeling writing the final chapter. For me, the most fun is writing the first two chapter and the last two chapters. I think this is because when I have a story in my head I always know where I’m going to start along with the details involved and where I’m going to finish. The rest of the story or “gap”, if I take an analysis approach, is unknown with murky details. This part of the story is where the characters are discovering themselves and the environment. This is where strange things happen, which change direction and twist the plot. In my current work, I had to do significant rewrites to the middle chapters and blow away some chapters because my hero, Jeremy, simply strayed too far away from the objectives or just had my characters doing trivial stuff that didn’t support the story.
Now that I’m at the final chapter, here is a tidbit about the story that I call low fantasy.
Jeremy Pour crashes to the planet, intentionally, following an inner drive that’s haunted him since childhood. He comes from the space city, Eden, governed by a corrupt class of people determined to perpetuate a culture of haves and have-nots. A strange and exotic woman, Johinda, finds Jeremy shortly after the crash in the harsh environment of the planet. She brutally murders one of the survivors, giving no reason for her action. Jeremy quickly realizes Johinda, his savior, is not quite human. As Johinda escorts Jeremy across the planet, he discovers something much bigger than simply escaping Eden and surviving is at play. He comes to understand he’s an anomaly in the balance of the universe and the only things that can right the imbalance is his death or reaching Earth, where, despite the odds and obstacles, Johinda will deliver him or die trying.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Roundup
My two week blog tour ended yesterday. I must admit, it had
its highs and lows, but mostly highs. One reviewer did not read the book and
gave me a poor review because of it…oh well; it was just not her type of story.
Another stop on the tour went MIA. Dave Brendon gave it mixed reviews (I quoted
one of his good comments). The rest of the reviews and reviewers were fantastic
and I couldn’t be more pleased.
Here I’ve pulled a few of the notable comments from the
tour.
Alana (aka Whiplash)
“My hat is off to Jeffery Moore on the level of detail in
the historical descriptions of this book.”
“Overall it was quite enjoyable… Once you've taken the
plunge, the current will sweep you along until you reached the still waters at
the end.”
Dave Brendon
“These beings are not human, nor do they have any human
attributes or characteristics – one of the novel’s strengths, and also
something that shows how Jeffery is able to create beings, characters, that are
anthropomorphic but not human, something which many authors who try to do the
same thing fail at.”
Cindy Bennett
“Jericho Solus grabbed me from the first page.”
“I can't reiterate enough how much I genuinely love this
book.”
Sherry Gammon
“Just when you think you have it all figured out. . .
bam! He hits you with a new twist.”
“There was never a dull moment, never a bunch of filler to
pad the novel up.”
Kristin
“Jericho Solus is part historical fiction, part legend, part
sci-fi, part fantasy, part romance, and part conspiracy—all with an undercurrent
of existentialism.”
“The three central characters in the story are Jericho, the
Solus who embodies action and leadership; Gebal, the Insid who personifies
wisdom; and Dimash, the Sensum who represents morality. The author does a great
job of developing each character around their special trait.”
Rayven
“I wasn’t sure what to expect when I started to read Jericho
Solus by Jeffery Moore, and I have to say it was much more that I could have
hoped for.”
“The book is extremely well written and well-timed with
strategically placed flashbacks that added so much depth and back ground to the
current happenings within the story.”
Cami
“Jeff’s ability to take the reader
into alien worlds is an art, an innate talent that comes to him so effortless.”
“Prepare to root for a hero so out
of the ordinary, he will jump out at you from the first page until the last.”
Ruty
“This is a great book, an excellent science fiction one to
be more specific.”
“But the characters and the surrounding are so well
described that you feel you are actually seeing them. This proves the great
ability of the author to translate to words, all the things that were in his
imagination.”
Friday, May 4, 2012
Blog Tour: Cami
My dear friend Cami plays clean-up on the Jericho Solus blog tour. What a great finish with her 5 star review. Many of you are romance readers and her books are sure to appeal to you. I noticed her site has over 400 followers...WOW. Check it out at:
http://cameliamironskiba.wordpress.com/
http://cameliamironskiba.wordpress.com/
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Blog Tour: Rudy
Coming to the end of my 2 week tour. Today's review and interview is at Rudy's site:
http://booksaremywayofliving.blogspot.com/
Rudy is from Uruguay and here studying to be a teacher. She has a fair amount of book reviews under her belt. Check out her site.
http://booksaremywayofliving.blogspot.com/
Rudy is from Uruguay and here studying to be a teacher. She has a fair amount of book reviews under her belt. Check out her site.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Blog Tour: Darkiss
I'm really on a roll. I really like this site, showcasing reviews of books the delve into the paranormal, fantasy, and sci-fi genres. Check out the site and the review:
http://www.darkissreads.com/
http://www.darkissreads.com/
Monday, April 30, 2012
Blog Tour: Shewhirler's Book Blog
Next stop is a Kristin's site. She has a great book blog site and has
provided an interview and a nice book review. Check it out:
http://www.shewhirler.com/
http://www.shewhirler.com/
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Blog Tour: Sherry Gammon
Next stop is a Sherry's site. She's a great friend and writing buddy. Looks like her book may be make into a movie...nice! Check it out:
http://wordpaintingsunlimited.blogspot.com/
http://wordpaintingsunlimited.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Blog Tour: Cindy Bennett
Another great stop on the Blog Tour. My good friend and great writer Cindy Bennett reviews Jericho Solus. Stop by and say hi:
http://cindybennett.blogspot.com/2012/04/jericho-solus-great-book.html?showComment=1335367486269#c578752098560190038
http://cindybennett.blogspot.com/2012/04/jericho-solus-great-book.html?showComment=1335367486269#c578752098560190038
Monday, April 23, 2012
Blog Tour: Dark Obsession Chronicles
My Blog tour started today. Alana from Dark Obsession Chronicles kicks off the tour with an awesome review and interview.
http://darkobsessionchronicles.blogspot.com/2012/04/i-am-solus-my-name-is-jericho-and.html#more
If you’re ever in the mood for Paranormal, stop by and check out her reviews.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Believability
I think writers of speculative fiction do a tremendously good job at bringing their characters, settings, society, and laws governing nature, to life. Readers of speculative fiction, especially science fiction and fantasy, allow a fair amount of leniency in the believability area…I think that is simply the nature of the reader. For example, let’s take the movie Highlander. Here we have these quasi immortal men dueling with swords until there is only one remaining to win some prize. Believable? not hardly, but it’s speculative fiction and therefore we know it’s not real. Now, as fiction readers, we can say: “Okay, what if there were these quasi immortal guys hacking off each other's heads?” If we accept that as a given, then we can sit back and enjoy the story. This is what the readers of speculative fiction do. If you can’t get past the premise of the story, you’re not going to enjoy speculative fiction.
But, believability has layers within the story. Using my example of Highlander, there is a scene where the police are investigating the decapitated man in the underground garage. For whatever reason, a cop is using a metal detector and finds a piece of the sword lodged in the support column. Um…believable? no, not really. We know the story is fiction and therefore allow some leeway, but you can’t get away with using a metal detector in a building on a column that has most certainly steel rebar for support. As readers, we say “no way”, and the story begins losing credibility.
I personally like to spend a fair amount of time on believability factor of the little things. Where the reader says: “Oh yeah, that makes sense.” When I’m writing a scene, I always try to ask myself if the actions or objects make sense. Why does Jericho, in Jericho Solus, allow blood tests after he’s pulled from the ocean? Oh yeah, we find out later that he believed it would keep the government from watching him, as he knew there was nothing in his blood to cause suspicion that he wasn’t human. I think it’s defending and describing these little details that bolster the overall believability of a story.
But, believability has layers within the story. Using my example of Highlander, there is a scene where the police are investigating the decapitated man in the underground garage. For whatever reason, a cop is using a metal detector and finds a piece of the sword lodged in the support column. Um…believable? no, not really. We know the story is fiction and therefore allow some leeway, but you can’t get away with using a metal detector in a building on a column that has most certainly steel rebar for support. As readers, we say “no way”, and the story begins losing credibility.
I personally like to spend a fair amount of time on believability factor of the little things. Where the reader says: “Oh yeah, that makes sense.” When I’m writing a scene, I always try to ask myself if the actions or objects make sense. Why does Jericho, in Jericho Solus, allow blood tests after he’s pulled from the ocean? Oh yeah, we find out later that he believed it would keep the government from watching him, as he knew there was nothing in his blood to cause suspicion that he wasn’t human. I think it’s defending and describing these little details that bolster the overall believability of a story.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Fantasy Animals
Fantasy is about transporting readers to a different world. This world is everything from the planet’s orbital path to worship methods to fauna. Animals are a subset of the ‘setting’ in my three-legged-stool for Fantasy (i.e. setting, characters, magic). One thing that you will not see in my stories is animals that are indigenous to Earth. To me, this makes no sense. Sure, it’s easy to just give my band of hero’s horses and let them be on their merry way. Oh, and I can switch it up by giving the horses the ability to speak or having great speed and endurance. We really should be a bit more imaginative than that. I think Fantasy readers want to be transported into a different world and that includes strange creatures. I do use comparisons when I describe my creatures. Because I write Low Fantasy, my hero/heroine is most likely from Earth and can compare the animal he/she is observing to something known.
In ‘Jericho Solus’, I have a creature called d’niten. I spent a fair amount of time describing the d’niten. It is a thick creature, setting low to the ground with a shell-like coat extending from the creatures back up its arm-length neck and across the top of its head. I go into more detail in the book. The d’nitens are pack animals, but can also carry as many as four people. Why spend a lot of words describing the d’niten? Generally, I wouldn’t if the animal was say some type of rodent they trapped and ate for dinner, but in the story, the d’niten have a key role towards the end. When my hero, Jericho, sacrifices the d’niten to save the party from the ravenous falcuta, we are saddened by the loss.
How many fantasy stories just throw in a horse that the bumbling kitchen-boy-gonna-be-wizard instinctively knows how to ride? A lot. Hmm.
In ‘Jericho Solus’, I have a creature called d’niten. I spent a fair amount of time describing the d’niten. It is a thick creature, setting low to the ground with a shell-like coat extending from the creatures back up its arm-length neck and across the top of its head. I go into more detail in the book. The d’nitens are pack animals, but can also carry as many as four people. Why spend a lot of words describing the d’niten? Generally, I wouldn’t if the animal was say some type of rodent they trapped and ate for dinner, but in the story, the d’niten have a key role towards the end. When my hero, Jericho, sacrifices the d’niten to save the party from the ravenous falcuta, we are saddened by the loss.
How many fantasy stories just throw in a horse that the bumbling kitchen-boy-gonna-be-wizard instinctively knows how to ride? A lot. Hmm.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Searching for a Cool Name
In the story I’m currently working on, there exists a race of beings I call wraiths, which is just a placeholder for something else I make up. Wraith just isn’t right and really doesn’t fit what I intend these creatures to be. I don’t think I’m alone in my struggle to create a name for these entities that is memorable—I think this is a challenge many Fantasy writers face. In ‘Jericho Solus’, I never felt the need to dwell on the name of the Kurrin. The motivations of the subterranean creatures are simple and played only a small role in the overall story.
My wraiths are different in that they are my antagonist in the story. They yearn for warm blooded creatures…it gives them strength and substance. Like people, there are wraiths that can control their desire for power and those that madly seek it. As the wraiths consume (through various methods depending on the state the wraith is in) they become more substantial and begin to take on an amalgamated form of those consumed. Of course those wraiths that consume only people appear like people. Wraiths that are indiscriminate can appear grotesque and are easily identifiable and killed. But typically the wraiths are smart and cunning and blend quite well among people…maybe even infiltrate the hierarchy of the Dyran Dominions? Okay, enough of the teaser and back to the creature name. As a byproduct to a wraith consuming (called clutting), the victim is coated with a layer of frost. So I’m leaning toward a name something like Rimesect (Rime being a kind of ice) or Rimeman or Rimebeast or Rimefiend. I like rime over frost because I think ‘frost-this’ and ‘frost-that’ are done enough. My goal is to come up with a creature name that reflects or alludes to what the creature is. How about Cruelrime? Feel free to jump in and offer a suggestion.
My wraiths are different in that they are my antagonist in the story. They yearn for warm blooded creatures…it gives them strength and substance. Like people, there are wraiths that can control their desire for power and those that madly seek it. As the wraiths consume (through various methods depending on the state the wraith is in) they become more substantial and begin to take on an amalgamated form of those consumed. Of course those wraiths that consume only people appear like people. Wraiths that are indiscriminate can appear grotesque and are easily identifiable and killed. But typically the wraiths are smart and cunning and blend quite well among people…maybe even infiltrate the hierarchy of the Dyran Dominions? Okay, enough of the teaser and back to the creature name. As a byproduct to a wraith consuming (called clutting), the victim is coated with a layer of frost. So I’m leaning toward a name something like Rimesect (Rime being a kind of ice) or Rimeman or Rimebeast or Rimefiend. I like rime over frost because I think ‘frost-this’ and ‘frost-that’ are done enough. My goal is to come up with a creature name that reflects or alludes to what the creature is. How about Cruelrime? Feel free to jump in and offer a suggestion.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Avoiding Clichés
I think as a reader, many of us are turned off by the clichés we come across in Fantasy stories. Generally (generalizations are generally true), Fantasy themes fall into the category of good versus evil in some way, shape, or form. Generally, Fantasy plots are our heroes killing the evil ones to save the world/princess/etc…, overcoming all the obstacles before facing the bad guy.
First theme: good versus evil is a cliché, and it’s prevalent in most genres whether in the form of vengeance, retribution, or otherwise. The key for the writer (I think) is to muddy the lines a bit. Maybe the hero/heroine isn’t all that good and maybe the bad guy isn’t all that bad. For example, in ‘The Bounds’, my heroine, Robyn, derives a type of sexual pleasure when killing. Because of her experience, she understands the motivations of the bad guys and (hopefully) the readers root for her to fight the repulsive urges. On the other side, my bad guys, Keepers, actually strive to maintain an orderly and peaceful society—not a bad thing, although their reason for doing this is warped. I like the stories that mix it up a bit. If you read Donalson’s ‘White Gold Wielder’, the hero, Thomas Covenant, enters the alter-world thinking he’s dreaming, gets an erection, and rapes a girl. Not a proud start for Thomas, but we come to love the terribly flawed and reluctant hero.
Next plot: Kill the bad guy save the girl…right? Star Wars—rescue the princess and kill the bad guy or save the galaxy by killing the bad guy. It’s a cliché that sells every Superman story ever written or filmed. As a writer, I think to myself, how much do I deviate from such a simple plot? My hero has to have a goal, right? The story has to go somewhere and what is better than killing the guy who murdered your family, right? I think the most memorable stories are the ones that don’t fall into this cliché. In Fantasy (more speculative fiction), I can think of Auel’s ‘Earth’s Children’ series where she chronicles Ayla’s adventures…no bad guy (except in the first book). Taking a look at ‘Jericho Solus’, the plot was Jericho’s journey to discover who he was and why he existed. The book I’m currently working on is along the same lines in that I stay away from the clichés of “good versus evil” and “kill the bad guy, save the world”.
First theme: good versus evil is a cliché, and it’s prevalent in most genres whether in the form of vengeance, retribution, or otherwise. The key for the writer (I think) is to muddy the lines a bit. Maybe the hero/heroine isn’t all that good and maybe the bad guy isn’t all that bad. For example, in ‘The Bounds’, my heroine, Robyn, derives a type of sexual pleasure when killing. Because of her experience, she understands the motivations of the bad guys and (hopefully) the readers root for her to fight the repulsive urges. On the other side, my bad guys, Keepers, actually strive to maintain an orderly and peaceful society—not a bad thing, although their reason for doing this is warped. I like the stories that mix it up a bit. If you read Donalson’s ‘White Gold Wielder’, the hero, Thomas Covenant, enters the alter-world thinking he’s dreaming, gets an erection, and rapes a girl. Not a proud start for Thomas, but we come to love the terribly flawed and reluctant hero.
Next plot: Kill the bad guy save the girl…right? Star Wars—rescue the princess and kill the bad guy or save the galaxy by killing the bad guy. It’s a cliché that sells every Superman story ever written or filmed. As a writer, I think to myself, how much do I deviate from such a simple plot? My hero has to have a goal, right? The story has to go somewhere and what is better than killing the guy who murdered your family, right? I think the most memorable stories are the ones that don’t fall into this cliché. In Fantasy (more speculative fiction), I can think of Auel’s ‘Earth’s Children’ series where she chronicles Ayla’s adventures…no bad guy (except in the first book). Taking a look at ‘Jericho Solus’, the plot was Jericho’s journey to discover who he was and why he existed. The book I’m currently working on is along the same lines in that I stay away from the clichés of “good versus evil” and “kill the bad guy, save the world”.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Winner!
The winner of the Lucky Leprechaun Blog Hop Giveaway is: Tiff Pull! Congrats, Tiff, on winning your own copy of Jericho Solus. We'll be contacting you by email.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
I’m half finished writing the draft of my next novel. Much like my previous work, it's my twist on Low Fantasy. By twist, I mean my hero, Jeremy Pour, is thrust into a world with different rules and different entities, without magic wielders running around trying to get him. Can I even call my story Fantasy without magic? Regardless, it’s still Speculative Fiction. I’m at the point in the story where my hero finally begins to make sense of why he’s in trouble and begins to understand his relationship to the world around him. My heroine is the mysterious Johinda with a connection to Earth in past centuries. Maybe Johinda is not as human as she appears?
When I write my stories, I don’t build out my outline with magic in mind. I don’t sit down and say “here are the cornerstones of what makes Fantasy, Fantasy. Magic—check; strange entities—check; different world—check”. As with my current story, I focus on the characters first, situation second, objectives third, then obstacles. It seems in my thought process, magic never really enters into the equation. Don’t get me wrong, I love stories with magic weaved in, and when done well, are fantastic.
My trilogy, ‘The Bounds,’ has magic, although I never call it magic. In the story, I describe magic as a person’s ability to manipulate energy. As I said in an earlier post, there must be rules and consequences to make magic believable and I detail the boundaries and repercussions in my story.
I think my next story will be magic laden and I'll approach it with magic being an integral element in the story. I already have the concept of what I want to do and if I can pull it off, it’s going to be awesome.
When I write my stories, I don’t build out my outline with magic in mind. I don’t sit down and say “here are the cornerstones of what makes Fantasy, Fantasy. Magic—check; strange entities—check; different world—check”. As with my current story, I focus on the characters first, situation second, objectives third, then obstacles. It seems in my thought process, magic never really enters into the equation. Don’t get me wrong, I love stories with magic weaved in, and when done well, are fantastic.
My trilogy, ‘The Bounds,’ has magic, although I never call it magic. In the story, I describe magic as a person’s ability to manipulate energy. As I said in an earlier post, there must be rules and consequences to make magic believable and I detail the boundaries and repercussions in my story.
I think my next story will be magic laden and I'll approach it with magic being an integral element in the story. I already have the concept of what I want to do and if I can pull it off, it’s going to be awesome.
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