on writing...

First of all, I have to confess to borrowing that title. If you want some real words of wisdom, check out Stephen King's book by the same title--if you have any interest in writing, I highly recommend it. Quite a few quotes from that book have made their way into my quote notebook that's never far from me!

***
So, a couple of weeks ago I did something crazy amazing (well, to me anyways). I sat out on a bench in the park in the rain and wrote for 3 hours.

Yes, you read that right. Granted, it wasn't a downpour. I was under the cover of the trees and the rain was light enough that I only felt a drop every once in a while. I was able to have my notebook out on my lap without the paper getting wet.

It was unbelievably quiet.
So quiet, in fact, that I actually heard the hop of the rabbit that was surprised to see me in the rain before I ever saw him.

Right after he left, I got to see a mink run across the trail a little ways from where I was sitting. It's pretty amazing what you get to see in nature when there aren't any other people around, sitting like a crazy person writing in the rain.

3 hours in the rain, and I walked away from it feeling more relaxed and refreshed than I can describe. I would have stayed longer but I had to go to class...you know, get back to the real world.

Even after that, though, there's something I hesitate to do--
   it's still hard to call myself a writer.

I have a book out (it's only 99 cents this month (shameless plug right there)) and I don't feel like the same person when I don't take the time to write
   and I'm willing to sit in the rain for 3 hours to write
and it's truly what I would love to spend the rest of my life doing.

But for some reason, I still can't call myself a writer.

People ask me about my writing, and I clam up. I usually mutter something along the lines of, "Oh, it's fantasy--you know, kings and wizards and magic and stuff," and then I change the subject.

Not really the best idea for someone whose only marketing comes from word of mouth, huh?

It makes me crazy, yet it's not something I know how to fix. I read amazing articles about how the first step to becoming a professional writer is to refer to yourself as a writer, to claim the title, but for some reason I just can't make myself do it.

I am a writer.

Guh. Even typing those words leaves a bad taste in my mouth and makes me desperate to change the subject. I feel like a fraud, to tell you the truth.

I write. I like to write. I'm not myself when I don't write.

But to claim the title of Writer? That magical word that brings to mind people like Dean Koontz, Stephen King, Andre Norton, and Max Lucado (a rather eclectic group, I know)?

I still don't feel like I have the right to claim it.
And to tell you the truth, I'm not sure I ever will.

sneak peek!

So, it's been almost 2 months since I wrote anything on here. I have all the usual excuses--life has been crazy, never any time, too busy--but none of them really matter. So, I'll beg your forgiveness and give you something I mentioned the other day on my facebook page: a sneak preview of what's coming next!

THE PROPHECY has done better than I ever would have imagined. Not that its sales have been off the chart or anything, but to be honest I'm just honored that people are choosing to spend their hard-earned money on something I wrote! Some would think that I would be content now, glad I got that whole "writing bug" thing taken care of, but I'm actually the exact opposite. All I want to do is write more, partly because writing keeps me sane but also because I want to put something better out there.

Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of what I've written. At the same time, though, I look back at it and have to cringe a little bit every once in a while. Like, I imagine, all first novels, it's a bit rough in places. I'm anxious to write and put something else out there because I know I can do better. Please don't take that the wrong way, because I really don't mean to sound as conceited as that last sentence came out. Like everything, though, good writing takes practice. Now that I've gotten a little more practiced, I'm excited to try again!

So, now that all that stuff's out of the way, here's a peak into Roedel's world and the story I'm working on right now...

***
"Long ago, a new presence came to Paideia. No one knew where it came from or why it came, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was that this new presence was bent on nothing but destruction, and it came in a form no one could stop.

They were called the Feron, a name which quickly had the ability to drive even the bravest to tears and desperation. The Feron were ruthless, cutting down anyting in their path. There was no common decency to be found among any in their ranks, no honor in their actions. When they razed a town, no one was spared. Their arrows flew true, and it is said that if you were unlucky enough to escape the pierce of their arrows, a worse fate awaited you should you fall into their hands.

A single touch brought agony so intense it left the victims begging for the mercy of death. That was a request always granted, though never for mercy's sake. Those who died at the hands of the Feron died quickly, but their deaths were far from simple. From the look of fear frozen permanently on their faces, the pure agony in which they died evident in the expression frozen there at the moment of death, all those who saw the victims of the Feron could do nothing more than pray their own death would come from the merciful hail of arrows.

There would be no warning of an attack before it occurred. The number of scouts sent out or sentries posted was inconsequential, for the Feron appeared out of thin air, seemingly formed from nothing more than the dust in the breeze. They were ghostly beings, tall and transparent. They carried weapons which appeared as ghostly as themselves, yet they became anything but ghostly as they passed through flesh.

Though many fought valiantly against them, the battle was futile. No weapon raised against the Feron could prosper. Arrows soared through their incorporeal forms to fall harmlessly to the ground. Knives and swords passed through them as easily as if they were passing through smoke, and the Feron never reacted to a single blow. Entire towns were burned to the ground without even a scrap of food left behind, for the Feron needed no sustenance to maintain their army.

They moved south across Paideia, a horde of pure evil swarming across the land. All the peoples of the land fled in terror, unable to do anything else.

Then one day, they vanished.

There one moment and gone the next, the Feron vanished as if they had never been anything more than a nightmare. Their ghostly weapons and ghostly forms melted back into the wind. The only evidence of their existence was found in the razed towns and the stories of the dead, those whose agony haunted the dreams and tales of every people of Paideia.

But the peoples of our land are strong. They picked up, carried on, and moved forward, knowing that one day the Feron would once again form out of the mists.

Now," Roedel said, his voice low and his hand turning the smooth stone in his pocket, "the Feron have returned. Once again they swarm across the land, appearing without warning. Their weapons wound grievously, but they themselves feel no strike and fear no archer."

"And all that stands between this unnatural army and the total destruction of Paideia and her children," Beryl spoke up, "is a group of misfits..."

a big thank you!

I was looking at the stats for THE PROPHECY today (yes, I'm still a bit obsessive about it--this thing has been a long time in coming and sometimes I still find it hard to believe that people are buying my story and actually reading my words), and I came to an odd realization:

my writing has actually made enough to pay a month's rent.

That's definitely not a fortune or anything, and there are a lot of bills that go above and beyond the rent payment, but it was still a bit of a shocker for me.

I mean, who would have ever thought that putting a book out there would pay for my family to have a place to live for an entire month? That's pretty crazy to me!

The thing is, I owe all of you all a huge THANKS! for that. If it wasn't for you reading my words here, no matter how disjointed my thoughts may be from one sporadic post to the next, and then telling somebody else to give this crazy new writer a shot, none of this would ever have happened. If it wasn't for the encouragement I get from you guys, writing stories would have slipped into the category of "hobby" a long time ago.

Now, I'm getting to experience something a lot of people never get the chance to experience. I'm actually seeing a dream come true right before my eyes, and let me tell you--
    --it's crazy-amazing!

For those of you who know me and may start worrying for my babies' well-being at the thought that I've suddenly decided to live off my writing, don't worry. I'm still a scientist and something of a realist by nature (though the dreamer inside is finally getting to spread her wings a bit more lately). I'm well aware that the 3-week success of a first (and so far only finished) book in no way means it's time for a career change!

That said, though, thank you again to all of you who have read my words and offered support and encouragement and told other people to take a risk on a new writer in a genre that lots of people still shy away from for the most part.
You guys are the best :)

have you gotten your copy?

First off, let me say thank you to all of you who have been reading my writing here so faithfully. Your support means more to me than you can imagine, and it has kept me writing even when the words didn't come easily.

So, I want to make sure everyone knows that THE PROPHECY is available free for the Kindle on Amazon! The promotion will last through Monday, so if you are an ebook person stop over and pick it up...then let me know what you think about it :0)

Second, I thought I would tell you all a little bit about the story that's coming next. It's definitely quite a ways from being finished, but I'm having a lot of fun writing it!

It's not part 2 for the Sons of Tundyel (that one is still in the planning stages). I've delved into a different type of world for this one. My hero Roedel is of the Ula Ros--think elf-like for that one--and he has found out that somehow he is the only hope for the defeat of an army that threatens the whole land. Roedel is traveling with 3 others from 3 different races. His companions are responsible for getting him safely to the Vale in search of a teacher who can help him understand his powers. The problem with that is, the Ula Ros have been forbidden from ever returning to the Vale.

Like I said, I'm having fun writing this story. Roedel is a bit young and clumsy, and I'm finding myself amused and befuddled by some of the things he does (that sounds weird; I'm writing about him and yet still being surprised by him). His companions have kind of mixed feelings towards him as well, so their journey is a bit... interesting.

Again, thank you for taking an interest in the crazy ramblings of someone addicted to writing! If you haven't gotten it yet, head here to pick up your free Kindle copy of THE PROPHECY (and sorry, but the Kindle version is the only ebook available right now due to a 90 day exclusivity agreement with Amazon).

I hope you enjoy it, and I hope it won't take me nearly as long to get this second story finished :0)

the big reveal...

I'm incredibly excited (and a bit terrified) to say...

IT'S HERE!

 This little thing (I say that, but it actually came to a whopping 496 pages...never would have imagined that!) has been a long time coming, but it is finally available in its entirety. You can get to it by clicking on the picture above for right now, because createspace is the only place you'll find it for a few days. Before long both the print edition and the Kindle ebook will be available through Amazon. I'll be sure to let you know when that happens--the ebook should be available by the end of the day today :0)

If you are an Amazon Prime member with a Kindle (or the Kindle for PC/MAC, or whatever other Kindle readers there are out there...I'm not very well versed in it myself!), you'll be able to borrow the book for free!

Can I ask a huge favor? If you get the chance to read it, would you take a minute to review it on Amazon for me when the book shows up? Good or bad, I would love to know what you think!

the big event!

I've been writing and editing furiously lately, in the hour or so I have between dropping my daughter off at school and teaching my physics lab each morning. And it has paid off--all the editing and rewriting is DONE!

I am beyond excited to say that this means the whole (first) story of Paodin and Syndria is ready to share with all of you, and it will be available on Amazon starting tomorrow, 31 May 2013.

I want to say thank you to all of you who stuck it out all this time, who have stopped by on occasion to see how this crazy writing journey of mine is going. It's been a bit of a bumpy road at times, but it's been fun so far...and I'm definitely not done yet!

The next part of Tundyel's story is outlined, not to mention Roedel's story that I carry around in my bag so I can write any time I have a spare minute (though I have to admit, Roedel's been abandoned lately while I've finished working on my first brain-child!). Writing is a part of me, and there's no way I'll be stopping any time soon.

*map made by my husband

SONS OF TUNDYEL: THE PROPHECY will be available both as an ebook and as a really truly paperback,so if you're like me and haven't given in to the idea of trading the smell of paper and ink for an electronic reader, I've got you covered ;0) Stop back by tomorrow and I'll have the links to where you can find both versions.

Again, thank you to everybody who has followed this path with me. Your comments and encouragement has meant the world, and I hope that in exchange you've gotten to escape the real world for a little while!

something's missing...

I've been doing some editing lately, trying to get SoT:The Prophecy ready to sell on Amazon (that still seems strange for me to say...). I actually printed the whole story out, after shrinking everything down and then printing two pages of the story to each printed page (what can I say--I really didn't want to go through that much paper and ink!).

A funny thing happened when I was getting everything ready.

I realized that I'm missing a chapter.

Yup, an entire chapter. And this is after I had "finished" and completely walked away from the story I'm thinking that maybe "oops" doesn't really cover it, huh?

I remember not writing it now. I was stuck and didn't really know how to get the story from point A to point B, so my mom suggested I just skip forward and then go back to it later. That's what I did, just with that one minor difference of not going back to it later.

So now, I'm finishing the editing and reading the story start to finish for the first time, believe it or not. I haven't quite gotten to that missing chapter yet, but it won't be too much longer before I get there. Then the story will truly be finished and I'll be ready--or at least as ready as I'll ever be--to put it out there for people to read in its entirety.

Roedel and his journey have been pushed to the back burner for a little while since I'm still planning on having SoT available by the end of the month, but I can tell you that I'm anxious and excited to get back to him. As a bit of a glimpse into his story, when I left him Roedel and his companions were approaching the Vale and trying to disguise Roedel's unruly red curls so the Ula Eos wouldn't recognize him as a halfbreed...

comfort in chaos

Lately, Nathan has been sending me to the coffee shop for an hour or two every couple of days so I can write.

I've been going to a Biggby's just down the street from us, getting a regular coffee with mint flavor and half and half, and setting upstairs at a little table with my back against the wall. I plop my pink notebook down on the table in front of me, pull my pen out, and write.

It took me a while to find a spot to write. I kept searching out someplace quiet, a place where I could set in peace with nothing to interrupt my thoughts. I would get there, get settled in, and then--
--get incredibly distracted.

Everything would be quiet, 
then somebody would cough 
or answer a phone 
or drop something 
or slurp their coffee
and I would totally lose my train of thought.

The first time I sat down in what is now my favorite writing place, I almost didn't. It was loud! People meet there for everything from business to studying to friends just getting together to Bible study...so it is anything but a quiet place. There's even a radio playing all the time, often with songs I know. I'm a huge music person (I was always a choir nerd in school), so I just knew I would be way too distracted by all the chaos to get anything written.

Then, I wrote 2 pages without even really noticing it.

Huh. That's interesting.

I went back a couple of times that week, and the same thing happened: people talked and laughed and slurped coffee and dropped things and made lots of noise, and I wrote 2 or 3 pages in my hour long lunch break.

Life has always been busy for me.There's always been noise and chaos and just plain stuff all the time. I had this idea that I needed to lock myself away somewhere to write, to find a quiet place with no distractions.

Apparently, I was wrong. I'm a person who has always done multiple things at once. I listened to the radio while I did my homework, I always had 2 or 3 books on my nightstand because I couldn't read just one thing at a time (unless it's a Dean Koontz novel), and then when I was teaching I sat in the living room with the t.v. on while I graded papers. We even had the radio on in my classroom quite often.

Maybe I'm odd. Maybe most people need quiet and peace and solitude to write. I've always dreamed of spending a week by myself in a cabin somewhere, just me and the quiet and my writing. Maybe I need to change that dream to a week spent in the middle of Times Square or something!

Until then, I'll be at the coffee shop. I'll be that girl setting in the corner, a cup of coffee in one hand and a pen in the other, somehow comforted and spurred on by the chaos and noise around me.

something brand new...

First of all, thank you for even reading this--it has been forever since I posted anything, but apparently some of you are still hanging in there with me!

I'm thinking it's time for an update, followed by a pretty big announcement. 

First, the update:
So far, I haven't had any luck with the query letters I've sent out. To be honest, all the responses I've gotten have been form letter rejections (which has definitely hurt a bit). The biggest thing that has happened, though, was the form letter rejection I got from my submission to DAW. I was guardedly hopeful about that one, because they were actually going to have my manuscript in their hands instead of just a query letter. Apparently that didn't matter too much, though, because I got the standard letter on Saturday: "Thanks for submitting...the economy...not a commercial success...everybody gets rejections...keep writing."

I'm not going to go into too many details about my exact reaction because I've already written all that stuff out of my system over here and really don't want to revisit that place. However, something has come out of that raw post I wrote on Sunday.

I have some amazing friends and family, and a few of them took the time to comment on my facebook posting for that other post I linked to above. Those friends don't know just how amazing it was to read their words, and how much they helped pull me out of a pretty dark spot. One of those friends mentioned something, and it made me think. There is a whole world of ebooks out there, and some people have actually gotten to see their stories read by huge groups of people they would never have reached otherwise.

So, now for the announcement:
SONS OF TUNDYEL: THE PROPHECY will be hitting the virtual shelves before long, and by before long I mean hopefully within a month or less!

I have a bit of work to do (some final editing and figuring out how to get a good cover design), but I've decided to take the step and just go ahead and put the whole story out there. It will be available through Amazon, definitely as an ebook. Right now we are trying to decide if we should set it up for people to be able to purchase a physical copy, but that part is still being debated.

I'm in the middle of a second story right now, though it isn't in the world of Tundyel, Syndria, and Paodin. It is a fantasy, though, and I have to admit my writing has matured since I started writing SoT about 8 years ago (wow, that was a lifetime ago!) which makes me more excited about this second story.

Here's a brief glimpse into the world I'm diving into these days...
 *****
Paideia: home to the Darkur, Men, Ula Ros, and Ula Eos

The Feron: a dead army created by the Forgotten One, wraiths sweeping the land and killing everything they encounter

Sharrukin: the Voros who showed up with a tale of a half Voros, half Ula Eos who would be Paideia's only chance against the Forgotten One who shared that strange bloodline

Roedel: a clumsy, young Ula Ros who has been told he is actually the half-blood hero

Caedfel & Beryl: a Darkur male and a female from the Men, companions for Roedel and Sharrukin as they travel to the Vale to find a Ula Eos who will train Roedel

The Stone: a smooth blue stone given to Roedel by his older brother, with only the warning that he must keep it safe because it in Roedel's hand is somehow the hope of Paideia in their fight against the Feron
*****

So, I'll keep you posted on how the ebook is coming along. I've got an outline for the next SoT story, THE DARKNESS, so once Roedel's story is finished I'll be moving on to the next installment of Paodin and Syndria.

Thank you to everyone for the encouragement you've given me. Hopefully you'll be able to have the whole story in your hands by this time next month (and here's hoping the next couple of stories don't take me quite as long to write)!
 :0)

a quick update...

I know I said I was taking a break from this blog, but since apparently there are still a few people stopping by I just wanted to let you know what's going on in my writing world...

First, I had started writing SoT:The Darkness.
There has been a bit of a snag, though--I gave in to the world of technology and I was typing it on my new notebook computer I got for school. Well, the computer died (completely) and I have now lost everything I just wrote. Granted it wasn't all that much, and it probably needed to be rewritten anyway, but it still hurt! I am definitely going to go back to the old fashioned method of putting everything down in ink on notebook paper. It may take me quite a while to type it up at the end if I do that, but that's okay. It will just be editing time that way!

Second, I've started sending out query letters for SoT:The Prophecy. I sent one a long time ago that I never got a response from, but looking back now that was probably a good thing since my story was nowhere near ready to be sent out. This time, though, I've got a list of agents to pester....I've also gotten my first rejection note. That part isn't so much fun, but I guess it welcomes me to the ranks of those who are trying to get published! I'm just going to stick to the idea that I'm in the company of writers like Stephen King and Dr. Seuss and Dean Koontz and probably just about every other author in the history of publishing. And I'm going to keep sending out query letters until I catch somebody's attention!
 

an apology...

So, I haven't written anything here since April...meaning I owe anybody who is interested in my crazy writing life an apology.

I am so so sorry!

Things are crazy in my life right now and have been for a few months. I wrapped up my short but very informative (to me, not necessarily my students) teaching career in May, then I spent the next couple of months getting ready for my sister's wedding and a move from Arkansas to Ohio for grad school. I've just finished (well, sort of--I still have a couple of classes this afternoon) my first week of grad school, so life definitely hasn't slowed down any lately.

My writing life is going to, sadly, be on hold for a little while. I may get a few words in here and there, but I don't expect to be making any real progress on my story until I get a break from school...which won't really happen until the end of the semester in December.

So, with that in mind, I'm taking a bit of a hiatus from this blog. I know, I know--I just came off of one since I haven't posted anything here since April. This one will be different, though, because it will actually be planned.

I can't get away from writing, though, as anybody who knows me or who understands this crazy drive to write can attest to, so I will still be updating my other blog and you are more than welcome to stop by over there. That blog is a bit different from this one (okay, maybe a lot different), but it's still me, so maybe you'll find something you would like to read there, too!

Mostly, this decision comes because I want to spend any spare minute I get to write actually writing...I want to dive into my story any chance I get, giving myself a minute or two here and there to escape this crazy world of physics I'm fighting my way through mathematically right now in grad school.

To those of you who have kept up with my writing here, thank you. Your comments on my story are greatly appreciated.

Hopefully I can come back here in a few months with the announcement that either 1) I've submitted SoT:The Prophecy or 2) SoT:The Darkness is well underway!

oops!

So, I just realized that I haven't written a post on here since February 28th...wow.

I've gotten really wrapped up in my new blog, so all of my writing lately has been aimed at that. And when I say all, that's really what I mean--I couldn't tell you the last time I did any "novel-ing."

In all honesty, that makes me a little sad. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy with the writing I've been doing. I'm overwhelmed with the response I've been getting from those posts. What I'm sad about is the fact that I've let my story fade away again. It has once again made its way to a back burner, and I'm afraid that it's going to stay back there too long and become just a pipe dream again.

I'm not guaranteeing anything, but I am definitely going to try and get back into the habit of my creative, fiction writing. I'll try and keep this blog a bit more up to date...

Thanks for hanging in there with me!

big decisions

So, I'm in the middle of trying to make a couple of big decisions about SoT.

First, do I try and submit it as a fantasy for adults or do I change the ages of my main characters and submit it as Young Adult? You would think that I would have already made this decision, seeing as how I submitted to the Amazon contest in the general fiction category instead of YA. I've gotten some recent feedback, though, that has me wondering again.

The second decision is one that kind of depends on the result of the first--who do I submit it to?

I've decided that I'm only going to try for an agent. I don't want to submit to any publishers right now for a couple of reasons: if I do manage to get an agent, I don't want to have made things hard for him/her because certain publishers already saw my pitch and turned it down. More importantly, though, I really think I need some fresh eyes to look at my writing before I even attempt to get it published--I don't think it's polished up enough to be published right now.

In the meanwhile, I'm doing some editing and reworking now that it's been a while since I worked on the story. I'm also working on the new story, but that's a long way from being put into the public eye! ;0)

ABNA results are in...

So, my pitch didn't make the cut this year for the Amazon contest. Really, though, I'm not all that disappointed. When I looked back at my pitch (probably for the 20th time), I noticed a couple of glaring mistakes I had somehow let slip by me in what I submitted. There were also a few places that I saw needed to be cleaned up (the meanings were pretty muddy). In all honesty, that pitch, as is, shouldn't have made it through to the next round.


I would have really liked to move on to the next round so I could get some feedback on the actual story, but that didn't work out this time. I can't say that I'm upset, though. The way I'm looking at it is like this: at this stage, people weren't judging my story. They were judging my ability to summarize that story and put it into 300 words or less, something I know I'm not very good at anyways.


Now, it's time to work on my query letter and figure out how to write a good pitch. Hopefully I've learned from this and I'll be able to fix the mistakes. The good thing about queries? Most agents want a section of your writing along with the summary. Maybe I'll catch somebody's attention!


So, even though I'm not all that disappointed, maybe I can convince Nathan that I need a consolation dinner tonight...

just some random thoughts!

So, this has nothing to do with anything today, but I haven't posted here in a while and just thought I would check in and let everybody in on what's going on in my writing life right now.

First, for the random finding that inspired this post, I am super excited to find out that Odd Thomas is being made into a movie! I am a huge Dean Koontz fan--I would read anything he writes, even if it were just on the back of the cereal box. Well, maybe that's not quite the compliment I was hoping for it to be since I quite often find myself reading the back of cereal boxes, anyways... Seriously, though, I have read around 30 books by him (which sounds like a crazy amount until you realize that he has written over 100 books!) and I would happily recommend any of those books to anyone willing to listen. So, back to the topic at hand, I am super excited to see one of my favorite series of his getting made into a movie!

So, what's going on in my writing life right now? Well, I'm waiting to find out if my pitch made it past the first round of the ABNA. I'll find out on the 23rd. Right now, to be honest, it doesn't seem like a big deal. I would be thrilled to find my name on that list of the 1,000 in the general fiction category who made it to the second round, but I'm not counting on it.

That's not to say that I won't be getting on the website first thing Thursday morning to search for my name--I definitely will. It's just that, right now, I don't think I will be crushed if my name isn't on the list. That will just mean it's time for me to polish my pitch and get it sent out to the agents on my list (well, there's only one there at the moment, but it will be plural before too long).

On the other side of my writing, I finished, for the most part, the background and outline for the new story I'm going to be working on next. I'm actually really excited about this next story. I think it is going to be fun to write, which should make it more fun to read. I'm just hoping I can make myself write it in a much shorter amount of time (read that as: less than 5 years like the first one was) so that I can remember everything that happens instead of having to remind myself all the time.

So, I guess the biggest thing going on in my writing life right now is this. Procrastination.

I'm thinking I need to lock myself in a room with no internet access for a while so I don't get distracted. Or procrastinate. Or make excuses.

uncovering the razed cities

This section takes place right after Syndria leaves Simon and Ina's home in the woods outside of Caron.

*****

Syndria walked on all day, the mountains her guide once Simon turned back at the edge of the forest. It was quickly growing dark, and though the Healer was afraid of what magical terrors would be able to find her in the open grasslands she was traveling through, the girl didn’t think she could make it to the mountains before night covered the land. Simon had told her there were many small caves in the mountain base--she was certain to find shelter in one. To Syndria, though, despite walking for hours, the peaks never seemed any closer.

            

In the pale moonlight, Syndria saw something begin to take shape in the distance. As she drew closer, the Healer could see what at first appeared to be a hill standing alone in the grassland. Thinking perhaps she could find some sort of shelter there, at least enough to feel more secure, she hurried her pace and quickly reached the strange hill. Once she stood at the base of the hill, Syndria wondered how she had not seen it earlier. Perhaps in the twilight it had blended in to the mountains in the distance.

            

 “Whatever the case,” Syndria said aloud, “I am here now and I should look for a place to sleep.” Dropping the heavy pack from her back, the young Healer decided to sit and rest a moment. When she put her hand against the hill to steady herself, Syndria jumped back in pain. She felt a tremendous jolt of some kind, a feeling she had felt only once before, and it took the girl a moment to place from where that first feeling had come.

            

 When Syndria had been with Nedra for eight years, the Ancient had explained what the presence of magic in others meant to a Healer. She sliced her palm and asked the girl to heal it, but not without a warning first.

            

 “Before you touch my wound, prepare yourself. You will feel what will seem to be an explosion in your own hand, a feeling unlike anything else. While you touch me it will be as if your palm is burning. Hold the connection only long enough to begin the mending and I then will let the cut heal on its own.” When she had touched the Healer, Syndria had felt a pain unrivaled by anything she had felt since, even the excruciating pain of the prisoners on the edge of death. It took every ounce of strength the fifteen year old had to keep contact for the few seconds it took to begin healing the Ancient’s hand. After the young Healer had composed herself, Nedra spoke again. “If you are ever required to heal someone who has been injured by a Wizard, you will feel the same feeling. And while it is possible, to do so may drain far too much of a Healer’s own gift. Choose carefully how much you do for someone with such an injury.”

            

 Kneeling at the base of the hill, Syndria knew there was no question as to the origin of the pain. Though it seemed impossible, this hill had been touched with some kind of magic. But why? What reason would the Wizards have for touching a single hill standing in the midst of a grassland with magic? Though she searched her mind, Syndria could come up with nothing. That was when an idea crept slowly in, the Healer’s rational mind trying all the while to push it away. She could take the pain from those she healed. Would it be possible to take the magic from the hill? Perhaps then she would see the reason for a spell’s presence.

             

“You really are a fool, Syndria!” she told herself. The pain of merely beginning the healing process on Nedra had been more than excruciating. What would happen if she tried to take the magic into herself? Besides the immediate consequences, it was possible that the Wizards had contained something within this hill, something that should not be released. But while her rational mind was arguing all the reasons Syndria should just go on her way and leave things alone, one thing changed her mind. It seemed a simple argument had ridden in on the back of the idea to try and take the magic into herself. The Wizards who had cast some kind of spell on the hill she was looking at were undoubtedly the same who tortured and killed good men as traitors. Syndria could not imagine them doing anything for the good of Tundyel. Everything they did was an order from King Simann.

            

 Her mind made up, Syndria took a deep breath as she tried to prepare herself for anything. Still kneeling, the Healer braced herself and touched the hill, her eyes closed. Immediately, Syndria felt the same excruciating pain she had experienced healing the Ancient. It was as if she were feeling the pain of hundreds all at once. An explosion started in her fingertips and shot up her arm, quickly spreading throughout her body. She felt as if she were kneeling in the center of the potter’s furnace instead of the cool meadow. Struggling against common sense telling her to simply pull away, Syndria willed her left hand to join her right against the hill. Her entire body trembling from the pain, Syndria pushed the feeling from her mind and focused all her energy on trying to take the magic as she took the pain from people. She held it as long as possible, but after only a few seconds the pain was too much for her to bear. She started to drop her hands and realized in horror that she couldn’t move, couldn’t stop the pain. Opening her eyes wide with terror, Syndria began to pull back wildly. No matter how hard she tried, the Healer’s hands would not move. When she happened to glance up at the top of the hill, Syndria stopped struggling. The hill seemed to be disappearing, revealing stone underneath. Though the pain was no less intense, Syndria again focused on taking the magic into herself, closing her eyes once again as unimaginable pain racked her small body. Suddenly she fell back, no longer unable to take her hands off the hill. Every inch of her body shaking from the pain, Syndria curled into a ball as her mind faded and everything went black.

Paodin meets Red

So, here's another little snippet of my story. Please feel free to tell me what you think--I really want to know!

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Chapter 8

Paodin walked into the Amber Stream Inn and Tavern just as the sun began to set. The tavern was dark, lit by only a few candles placed sporadically around the room, and the place was empty except for two grizzled old men seated at opposite ends of the mahogany bar and the bartender.

The man tending the bar seemed out of place in the dusty tavern. He wore rich fabrics most often seen on members of the Royal Court and even in the dim light Paodin could see they were spotless. His long coat hung open, which Paodin imagined was a result of his ample stomach outgrowing the buttons. Unlike most of the common men in Meinsley, the man behind the bar wore his thick red hair cut short. As Paodin sat down on one of the rickety bar stools the man turned toward him.

  

“What do you want?” he asked, bored.

            

 “Are you Red?”

            

 “That’s what people call me,” was his reply.

             

Ignoring the man’s seeming indifference, Paodin continued, “Jamis told me to ask for you once I got to town. He said you may be able to help me.” At Jamis’ name Red’s interest grew, and when Paodin placed the leather coin purse on the bar his demeanor changed altogether.

            

 “Ah! Welcome to the Amber. Any friend of Jamis is a welcome distraction.” Stepping out from behind the bar, Red motioned for Paodin to follow. “Come. Let’s see what I can do for you.” He scooped the sachet off the bar and led Paodin through a small door hidden in the shadows.

            

 The room the two men walked into was a complete opposite to the dark and dirty tavern. A large desk sat in the center of the room, polished until it shone. The chair behind the desk was massive and covered with rich burgundy fabric, looking fit to be one of the king’s thrones. Red sat down behind the ornately carved desk and motioned for Paodin to sit down across from him. Leaning back in his personal throne, Red laced his fingers together across his prominent belly.

            

 “Tell me, what can I do for you?”

            

 Paodin got straight to the point. “I have a horse, but I need provisions, enough for a three day journey. I also need a heavy cloak, warm enough for nights in the mountains. I am traveling to---”

            

 “Your business,” Red cut in, “is your own. My business is to provide a service, and to do so I have no need of knowing your destination. By the looks of you, you could use a scabbard and some boots. Yours appear to be well worn.”

            

 Glancing down at his feet, Paodin realized the man was right. His boots were all he had still been able to wear when the old hermit had given him clothes, but they were by no means in good condition. Looking back up at the big redhead, he said, “There are many things I could use, but all I have to give you are the coins in the purse--and even those have been given to me. I have nothing more to offer.”

             

Red dumped the coins onto his desk, talking to himself as he counted them. “This will buy enough food and perhaps a cloak, but it will never spread thin enough for boots or a scabbard. If I get a cloak from the old woman it will be warm enough and cheaper, though it will not last as long. Then there would be enough for a scabbard as well. I still couldn’t procure the boots for any less than two days’ worth of food, though.”

            

 “My boots will serve me well enough,” Paodin interjected.

            

 Looking up from the coins, Red ignored Paodin’s statement. “How are you with a bow? Are you a decent hunter?”

            

 “It has been a while since I hunted, but I was once fair,” was his answer.

            

 “Good. I’ll give you a room for the night and I won’t even charge you, and then you’ll have your supplies at first light,” Red said, grinning with pride in himself. “Follow me,” he said as he stood. “I’ll even give you one of my clean rooms. They’re usually reserved for my, um, ladies’ guests, but visitors have been few lately!”

            

 Paodin stood, reluctantly following Red from the room back into the dingy bar room and up a rickety staircase. “You are certain my provisions will all be ready at first light? I will need to leave in quite a hurry.”

            

 “Yes, yes,” the man said casually, pulling at his long coat as the two walked down a grimy hall. “Your horse will be loaded up, watered, and waiting for you to drag yourself from bed, and your supplies will be waiting in my records room, which you saw earlier. Don’t you worry--Red is working even now.” He opened a heavy door that squeaked on its hinges then stepped in ahead of Paodin. “Lottie, move on down the hall. This guest doesn’t require your services tonight.”

             

As Paodin stepped into the room, a blonde woman in only a skimpy dressing gown brushed past on her way out the door. Paodin averted his eyes, not wanting to make the girl nervous. “She can dress first. I don’t wish to inconvenience her.”

            

 Lottie giggled and patted Paodin’s cheek. “Too bad, Reddie. He’s a real gem!” With that she blew the two men a kiss and swayed down the hall.

            

 Red laughed, a big hearty laugh that shook his belly. “You must be exhausted, son! Good night.” He shut the door as he stepped out of the room, his laughter echoing down the hall.