Interview with Halflings’ Author, Heather Burch

  If you haven’t heard about Halflings yet, you will.  This book is already hitting Top Teen Picks on the Barnes and  Noble bookshelves.  Heather is filling up her free time with book signings, interviews, blog tours and television appearances.  That’s why I’m super pleased she agreed to an interview with little ole me.   So, here goes.

Me:  Heather, please tell us a little bit about yourself.  Where are you from and where do you live now?

Heather:  I grew up in the Ozark Mountains of Southern Missouri. Really beautiful part of the country. When my husband and I married, we moved several times with his family. I guess we all have a bit of gypsy blood. I’ve lived in Texas, North Carolina, Alabama, Missouri and my favorite Florida.

Me:  What got you into writing?  What inspires you to write?

Heather:  I’ve always written. When I was a teen, I wrote a lot of poetry and short stories and some things that weren’t really poetry or short stories … but they were my thoughts and I put them on paper. I’m really inspired right now by my two boys. The youngest is fifteen. He’s very much like Mace and my older son is very much like Raven … except they don’t have wings.

Me:  What is your favorite novel of all time?

Heather:  That’s really tough for me to choose because my tastes change. I can’t even decide on a favorite color. It all depends on how I feel that day! But, if I had to pick one book I’d say it’s The Divide by Nicholas Evans. It’s beautiful and tragic and disturbing. And today, it’s my favorite of all time. (My favorite color today is red.)

Me:  Who is your favorite author of all time?

Heather:  Man, you just aren’t giving me a break, are you? Stephen King. Huh, I think it will be him if you ask tomorrow or the next day or the next. What do you know? I’ve learned something about myself. I do have a constant favorite. It’s the King! Honestly, I’m not a horror fan anymore. But I love King’s writing and his ability to crawl inside the skin of his characters. Sometimes, when I’m having trouble with a character I ask myself, “What would Stephen King do right now? How would he get inside this character’s mind and heart?”

Me:  What is your favorite book that came out within the past couple of years?

Heather:  Oh, this one’s easy! Hunger Games. Beautifully done. I’m reading Firelight by Sophie Jordan right now and there’s just something magical about how Sophie puts words together. I met her a couple weeks ago when we were on a panel together. She’s really super and I’m looking forward to more books in her series!

Me:  Tell us a little about Halflings.

Heather:  Hunted by men and demons, Nikki Youngblood entrusts her life to three half-human, half-angel young men. The Halflings are sworn to defend her, but Nikki is more than she seems and it will take all of their power to keep her safe. When both Mace and Raven fall for Nikki, not only are their lives on the line, their eternal fate is jeopardized.

Me:  What inspired you to write this story?

Heather:  I knew some day I wanted to write a story about characters with supernatural abilities. I think love triangles are fabulous to explore because it causes the characters to have to dig deeper into who they are and what they really want. I love action, so I wanted something with a lot of action in it. But I didn’t have any plans to write this kind of story now. It was what Donald Maass calls a “Breakout Novel” and I thought I’d work on it for years. Well, I wrote book one in four months. It just poured out of me. Plus, I knew the multi-book story arc. Honestly, I didn’t know if anyone would like it at all. It was odd and different and certainly not what we were seeing on the shelves at the time I wrote it. Now, there are some similar books. It’s so weird how that happens. Ideas are like rain. They fall from the sky and whoever happens to be looking up can grab them. I happened to be looking up that day.

Me:  Who are your main characters and what makes them special to you?

Heather:  Nikki is our heroine and she’s strong and brave. I’d like to be more like her. J She’s an artist who rides a motorcycle and isn’t a girly-girl.

Mace is the natural born leader. He plays by the rules. Mace is a perfect choice for any girl.

Raven is the bad boy. To him, rules were made to be demolished. But there’s more to Raven than just rebellion. He’s got the heart of an artist—something Nikki finds irresistible.

Both Mace and Raven fall for Nikki. And she falls for both of them.

Me:  If you could give your main characters any advice, what would it be?

Heather:  “Settle in for the ride, this is going to be a long journey!”

Me:  All editors, agents and publishers are looking for that thing that makes a story unique. What is that unique factor with Halflings?

Heather:  To find the “it” factor, you need a high concept idea. Halflings is a high concept. In fact, at one national writing conference they used it as an example of what a high concept was. I’ll try to describe. Think of your story in terms of mass appeal or at least mass understanding for a large audience. A high concept idea will resonate with most people. When you hear, “Terror in the water” what do you think of? Jaws, right? Of course, that concept resonates with all of us. We understand and feel the terror.

Halflings high concept is “X-Men meets Cinderella.” When you hear that, you have a sense of what the story will give. Action of X-Men, romance of Cinderella.

Here’s another. “Fairytale characters trapped in our world.” Know what that’s from? The new TV series Once Upon a Time.

I think the publishing industry is looking for high concept ideas. Find that and you’re probably on your way to a breakout novel!

Me:  In short, can you give a brief timeline how long it took you to write the book, find an agent, then published?

Heather:  Four intense months for book one. I finished it and started querying. It landed on the desk of the agent I have now after it finaled in a contest. But she didn’t feel like she could sell it. She really knew the market and it was the almost polar opposite of what editors were asking for. They wanted dark, dark, dark books. She personally liked the story, but just didn’t feel she could sell it. Then the tide turned. After one year, she called me and said she felt like the market was ready. She’d even ran the idea past a few editors at places like Simon and Shuster and Little Brown. They were both really enthusiastic and said they’d like to see it. So it took her one year to sign me as a client.

It took six weeks for her to sell the three book series.

We signed the contract with Zondervan Harper Collins in January, 2011 and book one released in January 2012.

Me:  What has been the most exciting and rewarding part of this journey?

Heather:  Encouraging others to follow their dreams. My family had to make sacrifices (I left a job making 40,000 a year to stay home and write.) But, their commitment to me was amazing. Even though we became a one car family for a few years, they continued to support me and my desire to be a published author. They made my dream a reality. And sharing that with others who have the same dream is very rewarding. If you have a supportive family around you, nothing is impossible for you.

Me:  Are there sequels in the making?

Heather:  Guardian, book two releases in September. I’m working on book three right now.

Me:  What words of advice would you like to give to aspiring authors?

Heather:  Don’t quit! Don’t give up. Understand that sometimes things aren’t right for the market at a given time, but you’ll know when the time is right. Send out. Collect rejections. I tell people that if they don’t have fifty rejection letters from agents, they aren’t even trying. Understand that for an agent to take you on, it’s a very personal thing. They have to LOVE that book. When you begin hearing, “I just didn’t fall in love with it enough,” from agents, CELEBRATE! Because that means you are really close to selling.

Most importantly, (and this advice comes from Roxanne St. Clair) Write your butt off everyday!

WRITE. You must write. And when that book is done, polished and shining, write another. Then another.

One more thing. Join writing groups like RWA. Great instruction on craft, story and characters.

Hope you guys enjoyed the interview.  Now go out and get your copy of Halflings!

Distractions – can playing games at work increase productivity?

Distractions.  We all have them.  Whether we work at an office or from home, we are distracted from our ‘job’ by ringing phones, meetings, the occasional thunderstorm outside, or someone dropping in to say hi.  Stay at home workers, I believe, are subjected to twice as many distractions, especially if you are a stay-at-home mom or dad.  Kids and pets have an uncanny way of interrupting the ‘work flow’.

But what about self-imposed distractions, like playing games at work.  For the last year and a half I’ve had the intense pleasure (and pain) of not working outside the home.  It’s not that I haven’t looked for a job.  Trust me, I have and still do.  Every day.  But seeing as no doors have opened at this point, I have been following my passion and writing my heart out.  During this time I have finished my novel, sent it out, received a request for a rewrite and finished it again for re-submission.   I’ve written several short stories, won a few awards for my writing, and am currently writing on books two and three in my YA fantasy saga.

But not all my time has been spent on writing.  Outside of my normal distractions  (kids, disabled hubby, animals, etc.), I have one self-inflicted distraction:

It’s not a difficult game but I like it a lot, for many, many reasons.

Wizard101 is a 3D massively multiplayer online role-playing game.   Players take on the role of students of Wizardry to save the Spiral (which is the set of worlds this game takes place in), and battle a variety of creatures by casting spells using a turn-based combat system similar to collectible card . Players advance in the game by accepting quests to learn new spells, gain equipment, and collect gold.  Although designed for pre-teens, the game appeals to all ages.  Players can play alone but it really is a game designed to play with others, and in fact, many of the bosses you can’t beat without collaborative play.  During play, you can ‘chat’ with your teammates.  Many times, I don’t chat much at all.  I ‘listen’ to the conversations between the younger members.  Great fodder for a YA author.  Also, seeing that I write YA fantasy, this game is right up my alley for having fun.

But, how does playing games affect my writing ‘job’?  If I’m playing games, then how can I possibly get any work done?  Well, according to WorldWinner, a provider of online games, playing casual games at work can increase productivity.  The survey from their 2007 press release states (and I quote):

***

The survey, which involved more than 500 players who compete at WorldWinner.com, reveals surprising new reasons workers take time out of their day to play casual games. Among them, more than 80 percent of respondents who play online games during the workday feel better-focused on work as a result of periodic mental breaks associated with game play, 76 percent report improved productivity, and 72 percent rely on game breaks to reduce job-related stress.Recent studies suggest that a growing number of workers are seeking alternate ways to reduce stress while on the job; and a great many of them are turning to casual word, card and puzzle computer games.

In fact, more than 60 percent of gamers who play games during their workday use “brain teasers,” including puzzle/strategy games (such as Bejeweled 2) and card games (such as Solitaire and Free Cell), as a form of therapy during the day. When asked how game play recharges their creative juices, the great majority of respondents answered that online games “take my mind off of work for a few minutes” or “calm me down after something has frustrated me.” An inference easily drawn from these findings is that casual game play may boost productivity by serving as a healthy way to refocus the mind in high-stress situations.

***

I personally find this to be true with me and my writing.  Many times I’ll get to a spot in a chapter or a short I’m writing and my brain freezes. I don’t know where to go with it or what to say.  At that point, I either take 20 -30 minutes to unwind in Wizard101, or I go for a 20 to 30 minute walk.  Sometimes, if time and weather permit, I do both.  It’s amazing what that time away from the ‘job’ can do to revitalize the brain and the body.  After such a break, I am able to go back to several more hours of work.

There’s no doubt that everyone needs a break at work, but whether this calls for gaming stations to be implemented at workplaces across the country is another matter… Does your employer let you sneak in the odd game at work?  If you’re self-employed, do you play a game of Angry Birds or Solitaire every now and then?  If not, maybe you should.  It might just increase your productivity.

Review of the 3rd Installment of Henry Neff’s Tapestry Series – The Fiend and the Forge

From the back cover:

The Tapestry series continues to weave threads of fantasy, mythology, science fiction, and mystery into a wholly original adventure that appeals to fans of everything from Harry Potter to Lord of the Rings to The X-Men. Genre-blending and fully illustrated, The Tapestry novels have caught the attention of middle-grade and young adult readers alike—and the series is only getting bigger.

Book One, The Hound of Rowan, was a boarding-school fantasy that School Library Journal called “a solid and worthwhile beginning . . . [that] should help ease the suffering once Harry Potter withdrawal sets in.” Book Two, The Second Siege, was an epic quest about which Kirkus Reviews said, “After devouring this title, young fans will clamor for more.”

Book Three, The Fiend and the Forge, is an unforgettable dystopian adventure across a landscape overrun with goblins and trolls. The world has changed almost beyond recognition, for with the Book of Origins firmly in his possession, the villainous Astaroth now has the power to reshape history at will. Plucking pivotal discoveries from mankind’s past, he has reduced the world to a preindustrial nightmare.

But while most humans toil as slaves within four demonic kingdoms, Astaroth allows those at Rowan to thrive in peaceful isolation. Theirs is a land where magic and nature flourish . . . so long as none dare oppose the new order.

That proves too steep a price for Max McDaniels. Unsure of his place at Rowan, Max sets out to explore the shifting landscape of the world beyond. In the course of his travels, he will become many things: Prisoner. Gladiator. Assassin. But can he become the hero that mankind so desperately needs?

In the third book of The Tapestry, author–illustrator Henry H. Neff takes the series in an exciting new direction, creating a fascinating dystopia in which myth, history, and monsters collide.

Visit www.rowanacademy.com for original content, exclusive artwork, and more!(less)

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I must say I’m not a HUGE fan of this series, but I have found it to be an entertaining read and I do want to find out what happens next.

The first book in the series, The Hound of Rowan, felt way too much like Harry Potter to me — a young kid, Max McDaniels, discovers he has magical powers when he receives an invitation to attend Rowan Academy, a secret school of magic.  The difference is that Max begins to learn other children with similar talents are disappearing, and that an ancient enemy may be reawakening and searching for him, to fulfill a prophecy, so they can re-enter the living world.  I almost put the book down because of its stark resemblance to Harry Potter, but I stayed with it because I wanted to find out what happened to Max’s mom.  That little nigglet wasn’t discovered until the 2^nd book.  I also enjoyed Neff’s vivid descriptions, especially Max’s room at Rohan.  It was soo cool and I could see how a young boy’s mouth would just fall open in wonder if he had a room like Max’s.

The second book in the series, The Second Siege, kicked up the pace, and I have to say is probably my favorite out of the three books so far.  It is really ‘dark’ and Neff truly shines as an author.  It is an epic tale and the antagonists would definitely give Voldemort something to think about.  By the end of the second book, I was hooked on the series and definitely had to read the third book in the installment.

The Fiend and the Forge is probably Neff’s most ambitious tale yet and really puts this series on a scale that is equal to, if not better in many ways, to the Percy Jackson series.  The book is a virtual history lesson that presents a unique, imaginative view of what history would look like if it could somehow be seized, twisted, rewritten and then retold by a demonic, yet charismatic dictator (the demon, Astaroth).  Imagine a world where all modern conveniences never existed:  no electricity, no cds, no television, and all memories of them were erased.  This is Max’s world in The Fiend and the Forge, and he’s determined to change it back.

In the beginning of this book, we find that Max, the Rowan Academy and the world are inhabited by demons seeking to reassert their control over the world.  His roommate is not acting normal, and his friends are in danger.  Max becomes more determined than ever to protect his home and to seek revenge on the demon who murdered someone he loved very much.  Battling his impetuous instincts for revenge along with the deep forces of the ‘old magic’ within, Max sets off on a journey that takes him far away on a magic toy ship to Astaroth’s kingdom.  In spite of his own magical powers and the help of others, Max’s enemies recognize him and choose to provoke him in painful and personal ways, resulting in some highly poignant moments, life-threatening situations, and absolutely epic battles as he seeks to administer his own brand of justice.

The downside:  I felt some of the scenes should have been explained a bit more, like the child sacrifice scene.  I really wished Neff had explained the ending and the significance of that scene to Max a bit more.  I was left hanging.

I still feel like Max is much younger than he says he is in this book (he makes a comment to another character that he’s 16, 17, he can’t really remember).  His voice and mannerisms strike me that he’s no older than around 14.  This may not be a huge issue to the young readers, but adults might find it a bit annoying.

Neff has a highly visual writing style that pulls the reader alongside Max as he seeks the answers to life’s many questions.  He also doesn’t talk down to his readers, which I find refreshing.  We see Max grow, and we cheer him on and pray his ideas to cure the world’s ills work out.

The Fiend and the Forge is a stand-alone book but I really think you should read the other two books first so you know what is going on.  I am looking forward to the 4^th and final installment in the series as I think it will be the darkest and most epic of them all.

Stars:  4 out of 5

Target age group:  10 and up.

I have a novel to publish, short stories to edit, and a new novel to write in 30 days. I’m swamped.

Remember this fantastic scene from the Princess Bride?

Swap the words for the title of this post and that’s me facing down NaNoWriMo which starts a week from today. Am I nuts?

Unlike Prince Humperdink, I am not a planner. I don’t outline, I don’t figure out my characters or what they’re doing. I just write. Now, I do have a plan in my head. I know where I want to start and how I want to end but that’s it. I guess you could say my writing style reflects my everyday look at life.

I don’t plan. In fact, I hate to plan because nothing ever goes right when I plan. The best vacations I’ve ever had were the ones where no plans were made except to say “We’re going on vacation to [fill in the blank]“. Once we got to wherever we were going, my family and I did whatever caught our interest. We’ve never had an itinerary to uphold.

One of our best vacations was the one we took two years ago to Key West over Labor Day weekend. It was literally a spur of the moment trip, completely unplanned. I told the boys we were going to the Keys the next day (you should have seen their faces! priceless!) and to go to bed early. I got online and made reservations for us and the pooches (they love traveling, too) at a fabulous Sheraton Hotel on Key West beach (at an AWESOME rate that I couldn’t even believe myself] and off we went. I even took 1 extra vacation day from work so we would have 4 fab days in the Florida Keys. I got to live out two of my dreams: to see Hemmingway’s house and stand at the southern most tip of the United States. Kewl!

Hopefully, NaNoWriMo will offer the same opportunity to fulfill one of my dreams: to write and finish the second installment in my 3-part saga. I have butterflies in my tummy, my nerves are starting to twitch, and my brain is gearing up to face the unknown. The trip is going to be a fantastic one and I’m going to learn a lot, especially about myself. Can I stay focused? Can I make and accomplish goals? I believe I can. What I am sure of as a writer, is if I can get through and succeed at NaNo, I can succeed at anything. Today – Little Town, Florida. Tomorrow, New York! Look out world! I’m coming for you!!!

(gotta love the ‘I am awesome’ message!)

Death Scene: Does it work for you?

I need your opinion. I think I have perfected this as well as I can but I need your comments and opinions. I have had 2 beta readers tell me it is really good, one said it was way too short and my son wants me to just whack the guy and move on. (he has an issue with death. In fact, if I’d written it the way he wanted me to, this would be a comedy, not a tragedy!)

Anyway, I will give you a brief set up. The dragon, Einar, has just attacked Gyllen Castle. The king, queen and the king’s protector, friend and most formidable knight, Sir Trogsdill, are missing. Eric is Sir Trogsdill’s squire and his best friend is Sestian, Sir Farnsworth’s squire. They are both held in high regard because of who they serve. All comments are welcome!

***

“Of all that is good in heaven, how could this happen?” Sir Gowran wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. Sticky strands of russet hair clung to his rugged square face and the back of his neck. His clothes hung in shreds from his taut arms and legs. His voice teetered on the fine edge between lucidity and madness.

“Tash the heavens, Gowran,” Sir Crohn said. “God’s eyes were turned from Gyllen this night. Where were our sentries? Why didn’t they sound the call?” His black eyes bulged from behind the curtain of straggly black hair. “So help the wretched soul that fell asleep on watch for if I find him alive he will wish Einar had killed him first!”

“Settle down, Crohn,” Sir Farnsworth said. The eldest knight looked a disheveled mess; his blood soaked tunic adhered to his torso like a second skin. “Look around you. Our men lie amidst this rotten smell of death.” He worked the strands of his ashen hair into a frizzed plait; a leather boot lace secured the braid. “This slaughter is not their fault. Einar caught us with our trousers off. He knew what he was doing.” He adjusted the sword upon his back. “Eric, come here.”

Eric limped forward. “Yes, sir?”

“Do you have your wits about you, son?” Sir Farnsworth examined Eric’s injuries.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He placed his hands on Eric’s shoulders. “I need you to gather a search party, as many men as you can find. We need to start searching the grounds.”

Eric lifted an eyebrow. “For what?”

“Gildore, Mysterie and Trog. They should have returned to Gyllen by now.”

Eric wiped his brow. “Sir, with all due respect, what you ask will be near impossible. Sir Trogsdill has no doubt taken them far from here. To try and locate them would be like trying to find a ghost in a fog.”

“Then I suggest you become proficient at ghost hunting.”

“But, Sir —”

Gowran grasped Eric’s shoulder. “Quit protesting boy and go! Daylight won’t last forever.”

Eric grumbled, found a horse and returned to the castle. The gatehouse was destroyed. The courtyard lay in ruins. Shards of colored glass and tiles jutted from the debris where Festival Hall once stood and muffled cries wafted up from the underground apartments buried beneath the rubble. Everywhere around him women and children wept. Animals lay dead. Men scurried about like army ants, clearing the wreckage from the grounds. Through the chaos and confusion came a muffled cry for help that sent a shiver straight through him.

“Eric! Help me.”

Eric looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide. “Sestian?” The cry came again, this time more desperate. A cold chill slithered up Eric’s spine. He dismounted and ran toward the sound, panic spreading. “Sestian! Sestian! Answer me! Where are you?” He spun around at the sound of his name once again. There, a few feet away, lay his best friend partially exposed beneath the debris. “No!” Eric yelled, diving to the ground. He clawed at the sharp stone fragments, throwing them aside. “Sestian! Can you hear me? Say something!” Sestian gurgled. His face twisted in agony. Eric worked harder. His fingers and knuckles were scraped and bleeding, but he didn’t care. He had to save his friend.

Sestian swallowed. “Eric. Help me.” Blood trickled from his mouth.

“Shh. It’s all right. I’m here. Lay still. I’m going to get you out of here.” Eric shoved more rocks out of the way.

“I-I can’t feel my leg.”

Eric wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm and shoved hard against the massive stone weighted on Sestian’s legs. When it finally moved, Eric gagged at the sight of his friend’s mangled body. One leg was crushed; the other was severed at the thigh. Blood gushed from the wound. Eric watched as the life poured out of his friend’s body. Why did I have to move the stone? I have to stop the bleeding. I can’t let him die! I have to do something! He cut a strip of cloth from his shirt and tied it around the stump and yelled, “Help me! Somebody, help me!” but no one heard over the moans and cries and clap of wagons. He was alone. No one was coming to help him.

He glanced back down at his friend. Sestian’s skin looked chalky and gray, his lips pale. “Come on, Ses,” Eric said, his hands soaked in blood from working another tourniquet. “Don’t you dare die! Who will best me in chess, huh? Who will I spar with?” Eric grasped Sestian’s hand and held it tight. Of all that is good in heaven, please don’t let him die. Eric looked around, frantic. Where is the surgeon? Why isn’t he here?

Sestian whispered, “I’m. . . sorry.”

The words caught Eric by surprise. He leaned over his friend. “Sorry? For what?”

Sestian closed his eyes. “For failing Farnsworth. For failing Hirth.” He sounded so weak, so frail. Not like Sestian.

Eric grasped his friend’s shoulders. “No. You listen to me. You failed no one. Do you hear me? No one!”

Sestian inhaled a sharp breath and moaned with pain. “Y-you’ve g-got to k-kill him for what he’s done. P-promise me.”

Eric nodded and blinked back the tears. “I promise. You and me together, just like we used to do when we were little. We used to play with that old burlap dragon Farnsworth and Trog made, remember? We’d rip it to shreds and Farnsworth and Trog would always put it back together again.” Sestian gurgled and gasped for breath. A tear fell down Eric’s cheek as he held his friend’s hand. “Hold on, Ses. Just a bit longer. The surgeon’s on his way. We’ll get you in a nice warm bed and I’ll bring you some barley soup. I’ll even fetch Olivia for you. Maybe she’ll take pity on you and you’ll get a kiss out of her this time.” Eric hung his head and pressed Sestian’s hand to his forehead. Please don’t let him die. Not here. Not like this.

Gentle hands grasped Eric’s shoulders. He looked up to see the surgeon looking down at him. “Are you all right, Eric?” the man asked. “Are you hurt?”

Eric shook his head. “No. It’s Sestian. You have to help Sestian.” He shuffled out of the way and watched as the man examined his friend. “He’s going to be all right, isn’t he? You can save him, right?”

The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed and placed a firm hand on Eric’s back. “I’m sorry, Eric. There’s nothing I can do. He’s dead.”

Eric shook his head and stood. “No. T-there has to be something you can do. You’re a surgeon!”

“I can’t, son,” the surgeon said. “He’s gone. I’m sorry.”

“No! No! You’re wrong! He’s not dead! We’re going to be knights and conquer the world together! He’s going to marry Olivia Armwood and we’re going to grow old and fat together.”

The surgeon grasped Eric’s shoulders. “Son, I know this is difficult, but you must listen to me. Sestian is gone. He’s dead.”

Tears streamed down Eric’s face. He looked over the surgeon’s shoulders and stared into Sestian’s glazed eyes, fixed and lifeless. His gut rippled and squeezed and then the sobs came in uncontrollable, unstoppable torrents.

The surgeon hugged Eric for a moment and then said, “I’ll give you a moment to say good-bye. I’m sorry.”

Eric knelt and stared into the eyes of his best friend, eyes that once held so much passion, laughter. Why? Why did you have to go, Ses? What am I going to do without you? Who’s going to spy on the knights and feed me the latest gossip? How am I to get through a day without seeing your stupid grin or hearing your laugh or watching you fix up an injured animal until he’s good as new? How am I going to tell Farnsworth you’re gone?

Two men arrived and Eric wiped his eyes and stood back in stunned silence as they loaded his friend onto a wagon stacked with other victims of Einar’s wrath — mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters — and then carted them away. Eric’s gut squeezed with grief. Through his tears, he caught a glint of sunlight flicker off a silver chain around Sestian’s neck. A treasured gift from the father Sestian never knew. “Wait!” Eric said, running after the wagon. “Stop the horses, please.” He climbed onto the wagon, his knees quaking so hard he thought for sure he would crumple on top of the bodies now reeking with decay, and reached Sestian. With great care he slipped the necklace with the dragon pendant and ruby eyes over Sestian’s head and then backed off the cart, apologizing for stepping on the dead.

Eric grasped the pendent tight as the wagon rolled away from the castle grounds. All around him, women and children lugged buckets of water from the Cloverleaf River to the workers gathered around Willow Fountain. Other wagons carried the injured to the infirmary. He glanced over his shoulder at the cathedral and palace that somehow managed to survive Einar’s attack, and the door where he’d left Trog and his king and queen, still remained open. Reality slapped him hard. Farnsworth! Oh no. I have to get men. I have to find Trog and the King and Queen. He squared his shoulders and straightened his spine. He had a task to complete. A job to do. No longer was he a squire-in-training. This chaos was real and the most powerful knights of Hirth were depending on him. He looked down at the chain in his hand, kissed it, and then placed it around his neck. “Until we meet again, my friend.”

A slight breeze toyed with the strands of his hair as Eric washed his hands in Willow Fountain. He stared at his face in the water. So much had changed in his life in such a short period of time. More changes were sure to come, but for now, he needed to focus on one thing and one thing alone. He drew in a deep breath, shook off what sorrow remained and set about the impossible task of ghost hunting.

Just finished writing death scene…

and let me tell you, it was one of the hardest scenes I’ve ever written. However, thanks to three re-writes and coaching from my super duper beta reader, I have written a scene that grips me and my reader to the point of tears, which is what I was going for.

So what held me up on this scene? Basically, I forgot to be the storyteller. I failed to get inside my characters’ heads. The basics were there, the movements were there but it lacked depth, persuasion. It lacked emotion. I mean, it was so close, but you know how sometimes you’re thinking of something and it’s right there on the tip of your tongue but you just can’t blurt it out? That’s how this scene was with me. It was right there. Right on the brink, but I kept missing the mark.

Until I listened to my beta reader, made myself uncomfortable and visited the spot where grief lives. I had to reach down deep inside of me and relive what I felt when people I loved died. What did I feel? What did I say to myself? What sort of bargains did I make? And then I had to transpose them onto a seventeen year old boy without sounding cheesy or overdone.

I can’t believe how many hours this scene took to perfect. Again, a big tip of the hat to my beta reader and her harsh, strong comments that forced me to dig up painful memories so I could make this scene shine.

I wonder if anyone else has written a death scene and if they had as much trouble to get it right? If so, what did you pull from for inspiration?

As a side note: there are three novels that come to mind with great, gut-wrenching death scenes that just turned me into a bawling baby: The Order of the Phoenix when Sirius Black dies, The Hunger Games when Rue dies and an old classic, The Miracle of the Bells when Olga Treskovna dies.

What are some of your favorite death scenes in fiction and what emotion(s) did they stir in you?

Chapter 1 finally posted!

After many, many requests, I’ve decided to post the first chapter of my novel here on my blog.  You’ll find it  under the page, In the Shadow of the Dragon King.  I would love to read your comments and if you have any suggestions, I would love to see what you have to say so don’t hesitate.  If something about it doesn’t work for you, let me know.  If you want to read more, let me know.  I may post more.