Challenge Accepted…

I’m going to be unusually prolific with my blog posts this week.

Sorrynotsorry.

One of the reasons for this is the end of NaNoWriMo (my first NaNoWriMo, from which I emerge a glorious winner!) and what feels like an excess of free time. Another reason is my novella sale that’s coming up, and about which I will be posting later in the week.

The final reason is because I was challenged…yea, challenged, and I have taken up the gauntlet!

The challenge came via Musings/Traumereien/Devaneios over on Booklikes (who had it from a friend), and it was as follows: To write something based on the picture below [that is now no longer below; will try to link to its source if i ever find it again!]. It was meant to be something about 1000 words or so, but it was such a lovely pic and it gave me such a good idea that I couldn’t contain it in 1000 words. Currently my challenge project is 3300 words, and is looking like being a 10, 000 word novelette, so…

…with that being said, I’ll only be sharing about 700 words of it with you guys. When it’s done I’ll make it available to my email list as a perk, so if you like it, sign up!

Excerpt from Currently Untitled Novelette

I teetered on the edge of the grassy curb with frantically windmilling arms. Cold panic came to my rescue: I fiercely stabbed at the grass with the point of my parasol and caught myself just in time. My reflection in the shallow water below was open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

I’d almost fallen in. Back into Underland. Back into madness. Back into danger.

And if I wasn’t very careful I could still end up in Underland: the puddle was massive. Icy at the edges, snowy all around, and impinging upon the road to fully half way. I’d jumped bigger, but never in heeled shoes, and never in the snow. There was a good chance I’d break my ankle—or worse, my neck—if I made it across. On the other hand, broken ankle or not, at least I wouldn’t be in Underland. That had its advantages– especially since someone was trying very hard to make sure I did fall through again.

A wild look over my shoulder showed only danger: card sharks behind me; massive, impassable sheets of water to the left; police sprinting up the hill from the right. I had to jump. The puddle in the gutter was big, but it was smaller than the shallow oceans to my left. I threw another look around, my breath misting the air, and leaped.

I saw the pale golden flash of winter sun on slurried water, felt the bite of the wind on my cheeks. My parasol snatched at the air behind me, slowing me, but I saw my right foot splash down safely in snowy slurry. I slipped, and someone caught me tightly around the waist, warm and strong. I grabbed desperately for his waist with my free hand, sequins scratched against red velvet.

Red velvet. A splashing of slurry. A splashing.

Oh no.

“Got you!” said Jack.

“Hope I stood on your toe,” I panted, conscious that my skirt was less than decent and that I was showing at least one row of lace from my lace undershorts.

“You did,” Jack said. “I didn’t think heels were your style, Mab. I must say, I really approve. What a delightful dress!”

“What do you want?”

“Far too nice to wear out for a casual stroll, and those stockings— you’re on a date!”

“What do you want, Jack?”

“I want to know who you’re dating, for starters! You’re engaged to me!”

“I’m not engaged to you,” I said. “I was kidnapped by your mad-as-a-loon mother when I was three and she made us trade drops of blood. I had nothing to do with it.”

“I see you liked the birthday present I sent you,” he said, shrugging off the question for later. And it would come up later. It always did, with Jack. He just liked to make sure that he held all the aces when he brought it back up.

“What birthday—oh.” The parasol. I should have realised. It was far too beautiful for someone to simply leave in the street. And it had matched the dress so perfectly. Suspiciously, I added: “Did you know what I was going to wear today?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why didn’t you come when I sent you the card?”

“I didn’t want to be stuck in Underland again. You sent card sharks after me!”

Jack’s brows snapped together. “Card sharks? No.”

“Then who– oh.”

“Mother dearest, I presume,” said Jack, nodding. He still looked worried. “I was hoping she wouldn’t find out.”

I stared at him even more suspiciously. “Find out what? What have you done?”

Was it my imagination, or did he look guilty? “I may or may not have incited rebellion.”

“You what?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, looking away.

“What do you mean you didn’t mean to?”

“It all happened so suddenly! There were rebels, and people dying, and–”

My mouth must have dropped open at some stage, because he looked at me and away again quickly, and added uncomfortably: “Do shut your mouth, Mab. You’ll catch flies.”

“There are no flies in Underland. Do you mean to say that you’ve done something noble for the first time in your spoiled little life?”

“I wouldn’t call it noble exactly. It was more of an accident.”

These Are A Few Of My Favourite Things: BROOD OF BONES by A.E. Marling

Screenshot (45)

I was wondering what my next entry in the Favourite Things Series would be when I came across a reminder on my Twitter feed, in the form of a ‘check out my book’ tweet. That tweet was by A.E. Marling, and referenced his book DREAM STORM SEA (which, however much I loved it, is not the book I will be sharing today).

The book I’ll be sharing today is one of A.E. Marling’s books, though. It’s the first of his that I read–and still my favourite so far–BROOD OF BONES. In BROOD OF BONES, the women of Morimound have all suddenly become pregnant, and no one knows why- or how. It’s left to a Somnolant (narcoleptic) enchantress, with the help of her trusted maid and her bodyguard–plus one rather wicked Lord Of The Feast–to find out why, and to what end.

Broof of bones

And isn’t the cover so GORGEOUS?!?

“A man can never tell how much a woman cares about him until she threatens his life”.

BROOD OF BONES features female lead Hiresha, who has the distinction not only of being one of my favourite book heroines, but of being one of the most convincing male-written females I’ve had the privilege to read. Her 27 dresses and her fascination with gems that borders on the obsessive-compulsive is delightful to read. Her interactions with her fellow characters are spiky and sharp, as is her personality. And although she grows and learns, Hiresha remains herself throughout the book, flaws, cracks and all.

As for the main male lead, Tethiel – well, you just have to read him. He’s delightful and hilarious and a perfect match for Hiresha. His flaws aren’t white-washed, but they’re things that make him, him. There’s a tendency in modern fiction to have an anti-hero type male lead, but oh! he loves puppies, and oh! he’d never kill anyone, and oh, I suppose he’s just misunderstood. Tethiel isn’t one of those. He’s a true anti-hero, with his own reasons and motives for doing things. His interactions with Hiresha are gloriously, frivolously fun.

The only slight annoyance I had with the book was the amount of times we were told about the outward signs of pregnancy, and how Hiresha could tell how far along the women were. I think I counted five or six times, and by the sixth time I was saying aloud: “All right, I get it!” But it was a VERY slight annoyance, and if I’d been reading in the way I used to read as a child (ie, speed reading) it’s entirely possible that I’d have missed a few of the references.

I’m going to be doing a re-read soon, but I want to make sure I have all of the books in paperback (my favourite format still 🙂 ) first. And I have yet to read the spin-off title, A GOWN OF SHADOW AND FLAME, so yay! goodness to look forward to!

Verdict? Buy it. This is one of the books that I’ve bought both an ebook and physical copy of.

At times gritty, at times endearing, and at all times fabulously entertaining, BROOD OF BONES is a book well worth your time, and a wonderful first book in its series (which is likewise fantastic). Do yourself a favour and check it out. It’s some of the best that self-publishing (or in fact any kind of publishing) has to offer.

Your Assistance Is Requested…

Quite a few of you out there on the internets, from the US to Sri Lanka and beyond, were lovely enough to preorder TWELVE DAYS OF FAERY.

Thank you!

Some of you even bought it after it was released.

You have my undying gratitude!1

Now I’m asking even more of you (yeah, I’m greedy like that). In the lead up to Christmas–in fact, in just over a week–I will be running a promotion on TWELVE DAYS OF FAERY concurrently with a preorder promotion on the 2nd novella in the series, FIRE IN THE BLOOD.

I’d love to have at least a couple reviews for TDOF on the Amazons (.au, .com, and/or .uk) by the time that happens.

2nd Shards_FireInTheBloodYou don’t have to have loved it (though of course I’ll love you better if you did 😀 ) and you don’t have to write The Lord Of The Rings Trilogy. A short, meaningful review is just as valid as the longest, most praise-laden one out there. I’ll appreciate every one of those words.

And as always, there is always a free copy of either novella for those book bloggers who are looking for the next blog post and want to read and review. Just contact me via the comments or my contact form.

Thanks, guys! And to all my American friends, Happy Thanksgiving!!

What A Glorious Feeling!

There’s a really horrible part of writing. It’s that part, about halfway through–or even 3/4 of the way through, or right at the end–when you’re convinced that everything you write is utter drivel and it feels like there’s no saving it. The plot is hopelessly holey, the dialogue is trite and stiff, and the surrounding prose is as uninspired at a piece of toast.

We all get it. Well. get it, and I’d hate to think I’m alone in my funk, misery–as they say–loving company. For me, this time, it hit like a sledgehammer right at the end of FIRE IN THE BLOOD. I didn’t even want to edit it. TWELVE DAYS OF FAERY was so quick and easy to write, and it felt like FITB was one drag after another–problems with characters, problems with plot-holes, etc. Most of ’em I fixed as I went, but it left me feeling raw and uncertain about the whole novella. Especially since I preset a publication date on FITB before it was finished (December 25th, in case you’re wondering).

That was then.

Now?

This is me now:

giphy

What makes the difference, you ask?

Well, mostly I think it’s mental. As in, I’m mental, inclined to worry, and unnecessarily complicate things by obsessing over them. Also, a little while ago I finished first edits of FITB (with two quicker rounds to go). Not only did I fix the remaining, tiny (much tinier than I remembered) plot-holes, but I found that the whole thing was about twenty times better than I remembered it being. The dialogue was everything I wanted it to be, the story progressed so much more smoothly than I remembered, and it was all in all a much better novella than I thought it was. So I polished it some more and then went and watched The Marriage Of Figaro on Youtube.

All that wasted worry! I could have spent that on something else!

These Are A Few Of My Favourite Things: Writing Music!

 

Mostly I talk about books and movies, stuff that inspires, delights, and makes me think. But I’ve hitherto neglected to mention in this series the music that inspires and delights me. So today I’m concentrating on my writing music–aka, music I listen to as I write my books–which is why you guys get a video (or three).

I listen to a few different artists as I write, with the most frequently listened-to being Lindsay Stirling, The Piano Guys, and Evanescence. I also like to listen to Nightwish, Within Temptation, and a range of movie soundtracks with wonderful music. Lately, I’ve also purchased a CD of New Orleans music with a dixie/jazz type of sound to it. Listening to music as I write can improve my productivity by up to 100%: I’m far more likely to write 3-6k on a day that I play music as I write, than on a day where I write in silence or with the TV in the back ground. Mind you, The A-Team is great to write to as well, but I do get distracted by the flamin’ awesomeness of Murdock sometimes…

Well, NaNoWriMo is still going, and I still have words to write, so it’s ciao for now! What are you guys listening to as you read/write?

A Night At The Opera…And Other Things

Photo by Prudence Upton

Photo by Prudence Upton

So I went to Melbourne for the long weekend. I went to see The Marriage Of Figaro, while the Hubby went to see Jeff Martin & The Tea Party. It was an eventful weekend, during which I managed to pull a muscle in my neck, sprain my ankle and wrist slightly at the opera, get uncomfortably sunburned….and then see the news, when stopping for lunch in a nearby Hungry Jacks (that’s Burger King for you Americans) that Paris had been attacked by terrorists. That led to a prolonged discussion through most of Sunday with the Hubby, about terrorism, muslims, Christians, and the state of the world. We disagree on quite a few things, and we both have slight difficulty in expressing our thoughts, so it proceeded in stops and starts as we collected our thoughts, came up with new arguments and insights, and went to church.

Since most of my thoughts regarding the situation are reasonably bleak and not at all fun (there are no winners in this kind of war), I’m instead going to concentrate upon the delightful, fun part of the visit.

That being the opera. It was three and a half hours of fun, zany story told in a delightful blending of voices that were as impressive as they were beautiful. Susanna is to marry Figaro. Figaro made a bad contract with Marcellina, who wants to marry Figaro and has the right to marry him. Count Almaviva is in lust with Susanna (and every other girl in the flamin’ castle). Countess Almaviva is in love with her husband, who needs repeated punching in the face with something hard and heavy. Cherubino is in (puppy) love with Countess Almaviva. Count Almaviva, in spite of chasing every woman in the castle (sensing a theme here?) is jealous of Countess Almaviva’s attention to Cherubino. Oh, and then there’s the little maid Barbarina, who is in love with Cherubino and also seems to be playing footsie with the Count.

Sounds confusing, yeah? Well, it wasn’t. Not really. It translates to the stage VERY well. I wasn’t confused for a moment and I loved every bit of it.

Basically, Susanna (the brains of the outfit) spends the opera trying to:

-Fix the count and the countess
-Avoid the count’s attentions
-Get the count’s permission to marry Figaro
-Marry Figaro before Marcellina can get to him
-Fix Cherubino’s romance/life

She is sometimes helped and sometimes hindered by Figaro, who she declares to have not enough wit, but who proves by the end of the opera to know a trick or two. Their romance left me feeling highly satisfied at the conclusion.

Things I loved:

-The subtitles. SUBTITLES, PEOPLE. THE LIVE OPERA HAD SUBTITLES. I can’t express how much that meant to me. I expected not to understand more than one in ten words (if that). Instead, I was able to enjoy not only the excellent singing and delightful acting, but the puns, insults, snark, and at times gorgeous lyrics. I’m never going to stop being excited over the fact that I could see a live Italian opera and enjoy it with perfect understanding.

Cherubino

Photo by Prudence Upton

-The music. I expected to recognise a few of the themes and leitmotifs. I did not expect to recognise one in every three or so. Apparently I’ve heard a heck of a lot more music from The Marriage of Figaro than I ever realised. Not only did I recognise a lot of it, but it was all gorgeous! I’ve always liked Mozart, but this was especially delightful. The orchestra was talented but understated, never overpowering the singers, and they blended beautifully.

-The acting. It’s hard to say the exact things that were so good, because there were just so many. It was tiny little things like the ‘stuff you!’ kind of curtsey Taryn Fiebig (Susanna) gives Shane Lowrencev (Count Almaviva) as she’s very politely putting him in his place. The cringe-inducing way that Count Almaviva manages to run his hands over every flamin’ female he comes into contact with (hint: he makes sure he ‘comes into contact’ with ALL OF THEM). Small and perfect touches all the way through.

-The plot. Oh heck, the plot! So delightfully mad! So wonderfully insane! I will never be sick of massive, elderly female characters who are intent upon marrying the young, handsome male lead. The ones who trade polite (and sometimes not so polite) insults with the heroine, whom the hero really loves and has chosen to marry. And who, upon learning that the male lead is in fact their son, immediately switch courses half way through and are in raptures at their new-found son.

-The lighting. Oh my. I don’t think I can say enough about how good it was. My program says that the lighting was ‘realised’ by David Parsons, and that the lighting designer was David Finn. These blokes need a medal. The lighting proceeded from early morning through to late morning; from thence to afternoon and then late afternoon; and eventually, through evening and even night. It was done elegantly and entirely believably: I could have sworn they had the windows open to the outside world, and that we were rapidly going through one summer’s day.

-The use of a woman as Cherubino. I don’t know if that’s what always happens with this opera, but I’d have to think it’d be a difficult part for a man to sing–even a really good tenor. Be that as it may, I found it a wonderful choice. It emphasised the boyishness of Cherubino, the slim, raw, youthfulness of the character. And Sian Pendry was wonderful in the part: she managed the boy dressing up as a girl bit amazingly well: you would have sworn it was a young boy swaggering in those skirts.

-I’m still squeeing over the fact that Cherubino sings Lizzy Bennett’s song! (Yeah, yeah, technically it’s Lizzy singing Cherubino’s song, but whatever). I’m delighted. It adds so much more meaning to a part of the BBC’s Pride & Prejudice than it already possessed. It’s a song of longing, of surprising and new love being discovered, of uncertainty and novelty. It’s perfect for that part of the movie and whoever chose it is a genius.

Things I didn’t like so much:

-It wasn’t as loud as I expected. I suppose I’m just used to having the telly turned up ridiculously loud when I’m watching G&S operettas (so I can sing at the top of my lungs), but although the opera was a pleasing loudness, it didn’t quite live up to my expectations of flamboyantly crashing loudness. I was just a smidge disappointed at that.

-Nope, that’s it. It was an awesome opera, and I now need to find a dvd version to show the Sis.

So that’s it. My night at the opera. Hopefully the first of very, very many. I highly recommend it.

Adventures In Real Life: The Opera

Well, it’s still NaNoWriMo, which means that this post will be short and sweet (Oi! I heard you! Yeah, you in the back row. The one who said ‘Aw Yiss!’).

As a kind of prelude to this post, I’d like to say that I’ve always had a kind of love/hate relationship with Opera–and by that I mean sometimes I love it and sometimes I hate it (after all, even an anthropomorphised institute can’t love someone).

Gilbert and Sullivan, I absolutely adore. Not just their sometimes cunning, sometimes laugh-out-loud humour, but their glorious, clever music. Stephen Sondheim, though not perhaps technically opera, I also love. And there are bits and pieces of the popular, well-known operas that I’ve heard and loved, though I’ve never actually seen or attended an opera; a real, overblown, gloriously loud opera.

I’m not so fond of the excessive amounts of vibrato that warble through real operas. I like a clear, clean soprano that has no need to disguise its shortcomings or ornament its beauty. Classic opera singers aren’t, therefore, among my favourite singers–which is also one of the reasons I’ve never sat down to a real opera. Another reason is that traditional operas seem to have an immense amount of maiming, slaughtering, incest, unfaithfulness and other unpleasantness. As Anna Russell says: “In an opera you can do anything you like, so long as you sing it!”

But now, love/hate relationship aside, I’m going to attend my first opera! Opera Australia are performing The Marriage of Figaro in Melbourne, where the Hubby and I are going for a long weekend as of tomorrow. I think the first thing that drew me in was the glorious costuming. I mean, look at ’em! They’re gorgeous! The crew that makes these makes them properly: no hidden zips and quick changes, and tries to buy only what would have been available at the time. This is the article I read about it–it’s fascinating! Apart from the costuming, I’ve heard a snippet or two of this opera on Classic FM and found it quite beautiful. The storyline, too, sounds absolutely hilarious!

So this is me! Going to my first opera! Tomorrow! I’ll have to find a suitably fantastic ensemble….

Shhhhh! Be Vewwy, Vewwy Quiet! It’s NaNoWriMo!

It’s NaNoWriMo (as if you haven’t already figured that out). And this being not only week two, but the first day of my week off from work, I’m at a little over 4000 words for the day of a proposed 6000.

So, no real blog post for you guys this week, except to share the meme me Ma made me. Ain’t she grand?!

I honestly don’t think I can ever love this meme enough. Enjoy. Sucker.

BA Baracus

1 2
%d bloggers like this: