The Writing Fairies Have Come Back! :D

Hello friends! :)

I've been gone a long time.  A lot of things have happened.  A lot still is happening.  Last weekend was probably one of the most eventful and crazy times of my life.  I was supposed to go to the ren-faire here in central Illinois, and I had been working to finish two dresses, one for me and one for a friend.  I stayed up all night the night before to finish, and was so proud of my work!  But then, as I was driving to pick up one of my friends for the fair, I fell asleep behind the wheel, woke up too late to stop in time, ran a stop sign, jumped a curb, and flew into the ditch.  No other cars were involved, thank God!  But I was pretty banged up afterward, and now I'm in need of a car yet again (the one I had apparently can't be fixed... I'm still hoping, but things don't look too wonderful for it).  Also, the EMT's had to cut my ren-dress a bit as I was being taken to the hospital, so now I have to fix that too. lol!  Oh the troubles of life!  I'm just very thankful to be alive!

Also, I'm moving!  That's something exciting at least. Lots of interesting stuff to go through and pack, and at least half of it I forgot that I owned. lol!  I'm moving an hour away to Peoria Illinois, where I will be staying with an older lady and her family.  I've known her for most of my life, and feel really comfortable and safe staying there.  She has an economy apartment on the second floor of her house which I will be renting, and she's pretty much letting me have full reign on decorating.  I can't WAIT to post pictures of how it will look once everything is in it's place!  It will be absolutely FANTASTIC!!!! :D

In other news, MY WRITING FAIRIES HAVE COME BACK!!!  It's been a long time since they've visited me, and my books have shown the strain.  But now, I've written almost 3k extra words in SOTD in the last two weeks alone (which may not seem like a lot to anyone else, but which is a definite improvement from the dead standstill the book was at before), AND I've started brainstorming and outlining for a possible 20k novella to be entered in a contest come the end of December.  I'm thinking the novella will probably be my Nano piece this year.  It's the first year since 2009 that I'll be working on a brand new story during Nanowrimo, and not trying to add words to SOTD.  I think the new writing project will be rather refreshing, and good practice.  My writing has been rusty lately and awkward, and this may be just what I need to get back to where I used to be when it came to working on my novel. :)

I thought maybe it would be nice to post a little bit about this new writing endeavor here on the blog.  It's been absolutely AGES since I've tried to write anything new.  I hope I can remember how to do it. lol!

The requirement for the contest is that the piece be a new take on the Cinderella fairy-tale.  I've always wanted to rewrite a fairy-tale!  I have plans to one day rewrite the story of the six swans, or maybe the story of the Snow Queen, but I haven't gotten that far yet.  However, I saw this contest as an opportunity to flex my skills and see what I could come up with. :)

My entry will be titled, "The Cinder-Beast".  It's going to mix elements of "Cinderella" and "Beauty and the Beast," and there will be a few other twists as well.  Here's a quick summary of what I'm working on so far.

****

Prince Markayle is the very last of the royal line of Aendor, heir to the throne of Tevaun, and a fugitve.  Forced to flee for his life from the evil dragon that has overrun his kingdom, Markayle is now known as the Cinder-Beast because of the Dragon's curse which renders anything he touches to fall away in cinders.  Along with this curse comes another: three long pale scars from dragon claws which completely disfigure the right side of his face and make him look like a monster.  The only reason he survived the encounter was because the fae took pity on him and healed his wounds.  Now, gifted with enchanted gloves that guard objects from his touch and a mask that hides his disfigurements from others, Markayle has set out on a journey to find a way to break his curse, banish the dragon from his kingdom, and reclaim his throne.

Marcella is a servant in the palace of Emroin.  Her job is to serve the princess Anaiya, but when Anaiya is kidnapped by an evil dragon from the north, suspicions are cast on Marcella and she is tried and banished.  Forced to wander the forests of Emroin alone, Marcella comes across a strange man in a mask and gloves.  He calls himself Kayle, and doesn't talk much.  He will not say why he wears his mask, and he will not take off his gloves.  He is searching for someone... a woman whom he was told could cure a mortal ailment he possesses which he gained from a dragon.  In him, Marcella finds her hope, and they set out to rescue Anaiya together.

But Kayle isn't everything Marcella thinks he is...

Niether is Anaiya,

And there's a secret about Marcella that she herself doesn't even know.

Only the Fae have all the answers, and they want their Changeling back.

****

So there you have it!  That's the working blurb for my new project, "The Cinder-Beast".  Please let me know what you think.  I'm having a lot of fun working on figuring out all the little details for it.  One of these days I'll have to find pictures of the characters to post.  I want to start working on a map too at some point.  I almost forgot how much fun new writing projects can be. :D

"Merlin's Blade" by Robert Treskillard -- A Review

Hello my blog friends!  I know I haven't posted in basically forever, and I apologize for that.  Since School got out (and even before that) a lot of stuff has happened and I haven't had a lot of extra time.  No excuse, I know... I wish I could write something every day, or at least once a week, but sometimes life just steps in the way and everything starts coming apart at the seams.  That's kind of how it's been lately.  No worries though!  I will be posting more soon!  I have a plethora of new ideas to blog about, and some pretty exciting happenings that are making my life a bit more than just interesting of late. :)  I'll tell you all about it soon. ^_^

In the meantime, however, I have a couple of Book Reviews to post! :)  They were both supposed to be posted last week, but as some of you undoubtedly know, Illinois has been swamped with bad weather lately, mostly in the form of unstoppable rains for weeks on end.  The fields have pretty much become swamp land, and the poor farmers are probably going to have to replant.  Some of them haven't even started planting yet because everything was too wet and muddy to do so... and the grass is getting overwhelmingly tall as well.  During the storms, there were power surges all over the place, and my internet wasn't working properly... it would come on and then suddenly turn off, and I was terribly worried about it and my computer during the whole thing.  I still got on occasionally, but every time I tried to put of the two reviews, the page would go offline, so I finally gave up and waited until the sun came out again. lol!  This review here was supposed to be a part of the CSFF Blog Tour, so there will be links at the bottom that lead to all the other blogs that decided to participate in the "Merlin's Blade" tour.  You should check them out!  :D

And now to begin.

When a meteorite crashes near a small village in fifth-century Britain, it brings with it a mysterious black stone that bewitches anyone who comes in contact with its glow---a power the druids hope to use to destroy King Uthur's kingdom, as well as the new Christian faith. The only person who seems immune is a young,

shy, half-blind swordsmith's son named Merlin.

As his family, village, and even the young Arthur, are placed in danger, Merlin must face his fears and his blindness to take hold of the role God ordained for him. But when he is surrounded by adversaries, armed only by a sword he helped forge, how will he save the girl he cherishes and rid Britain of this deadly evil ... without losing his life? 



My Thoughts:

This... 

Let me just say, this book was excellent.  And I do not say that lightly.  Robert has a way with words that just make them seem to float off the page and become flesh and blood.  This book read very real to me... not just because of the flow of words, but also because of the detailed research that was put into it.  Every aspect of the story, from the area of Bosventor, to the traditions of the Druids, to the process of forging a sword read and (more importantly) felt real.  

Something else I liked about this book: it's told from Merlin's point of view.  Now, I am a lover of all things Arthurian, and as a rule, I love the character of Merlin.  So little is known about him!  He has so much potential within the story realm that writers tend to love him.  However, until now I've never seen a book done where Merlin was a follower of Christ accept for in D. Barkley Briggs' "The legends of Karac Tor".  Yet Merlin's Blade even goes a step farther than that... because in Mr. Treskillard's book, not only is Merlin a follower of Christ, but he is also a young man around the age of 16 and 17 and has the same troubles that young men have -- like, for instance, impressing the young ladies.  And as if that weren't enough trouble to begin with, this version of Merlin is also half blind.

Things start going crazy in Merlin's home town of Bosventor when some mysterious druids show up toting along an ominous stone.  Merlin can't see the stone, but he can feel that there's something evil about it... and as the story progresses, we learn that Merlin's blindness -- his greatest weakness -- is also the only thing that is keeping him from becoming memorized with the power that the stone possesses.  As the rest of Merlin's town falls under the spell of the strange stone with the blue fire, Merlin starts to realize that the power of the stone corrupts through sight... and as he's half blind, he is the only one in his entire village that can stand strong against it.  And he really is the only one, because even the monks are susceptible to the stone's power.

Merlin alone is immune.

Of course, if those were the only problems Merlin had to face down in this book, the book would be exciting enough!  But oh no... of course there are more!  Merlin finds out that the leader of the druids is actually his step mother's father, and he also discovers that his father is being held under some kind of spell put on him by his step mother to wield control over him.  Then you have Natalenya... the beautiful daughter of the magister.  Merlin can't stop thinking about her, but she's in trouble along with everyone else in the village because she stands between her greedy father and the wealth that the stone promises.

And then there are the wolves.

When Merlin was young, he tried to save his little half sister from a hungry wolf pack.  His reward was the loss of his sight and an eternally scarred face.  That was years ago, but now the wolves are back, and they are more intent than ever to fill their maws with Merlin's blood.

Between all of that, and the visions that Merlin has started to have out of nowhere, he really has his hands full... and that's only before Uther Pendragon and his family show up with baby Arthur in tow.  

I loved this story from beginning to end. :)  And I was lucky, because not only have I just recently read the newly published version of the book, but I was also one of the few privileged readers who were allowed to read through the book while it was still in the revision stage.  I loved it then too, and consider myself extremely fortunate, especially since a few of my more favored scenes scenes have been revamped and edited out.

And then, wouldn't you believe it!  I got the surprise of my life when I got to the end of the published version of the book and saw my name in the acknowledgements!  Robert, if you are reading this, just know that you made my day!  Shoot!  You made my whole week!!! :D  I never expected that, and let me just say, it is such an honor to know you and your family.  God does work in the most amazing and mysterious ways. ^_^

This is a HIGHLY recommended read at the top of my list with five out of five stars. :)

If you would like to purchase a copy for yourself, please go here:http://www.amazon.com/Merlins-Blade-Merlin-Spiral-The/dp/0310735076/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1370507245&sr=8-1&keywords=merlins+blade

The author's blog:
http://www.epictales.org/blog/robertblog.php

Merlin's Blade Tour Participants:

Noah Arsenault
Beckie Burnham
Keanan Brand
Jeff Chapman
Laure Covert
Pauline Creeden
Emma or Audrey Engel
April Erwin
Victor Gentile
Ryan Heart
Timothy Hicks
Jason Joyner
Carol Keen
Krystine Kercher
Shannon McDermott
Meagan @ Blooming with Books
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Joan Nienhuis
Nathan Reimer
Chawna Schroeder
Kathleen Smith
Jojo Sutis
Robert Treskillard
Steve Trower Phyllis Wheeler
Shane Werlinger
Nichole White

Review on "The Looking Glass Wars" by Frank Beddor

Hello friends. :D  I haven't blogged in a good long while, and for that I am sorry.  Quite honestly, I haven't had the time for it, nor have I been inspired enough to do much writing in general.  It's a sad state I'm in, and I'm trying to get through it.  Prayer is always welcome. ^_^  For other things too, not just my writing life.

But anyway, today I actually got up enough gumption to write a book review!  Yay for me!!!  I posted the review on Goodreads, but decided to post it here too, since I think it is a relatively good review and I haven't posted anything in so long. lol!

So here it is!  My review on the book "The Looking Glass Wars" by Frank Beddor.

The Looking Glass Wars

A new twist on Alice in Wonderland... What if the story behind Alice and her Wonderland was actually real?  What if all of that had actually happened, but NOT in the way the original author said it had? 

In this charming/exciting/action-packed book by Frank Beddor, Alyss Heart is the young Princess of Wonderland.  When her parents are killed by her Aunt Redd who wants to rule Wonderland through the use of black imagination, Alyss escapes with her trusted bodyguard and the leader of the Millinery, Hatter Madigan, through the Pool of Tears.  She lands in 1800's London, separated from Hatter Madigan and all alone, and there she is taken in by the Liddels and adopted as their daughter.  But the Liddels do not believe her story of being the heir to the throne in a fantastical world where the strength of a person's imagination grants them power beyond reckoning.  Alyss' only consolation is in a chaplain who takes pity on the young girl and listens to her stories.  But Alyss never counted on him not believing her, and she never thought he would write a book about her story and get all of the facts so very, very WRONG. 

In the meantime, her Aunt Redd is still looking for her, and has sent her best assassin, The Cat, to find and dispose of her.  However, Madigan finds her first and they manage to escape back into the world of Wonderland, only to find that the wonderful place that had once been her parent's kingdom is now falling to ruins and the people are in shambles.  Alyss must learn to master her very powerful gift of Imagination with very little guidance, and she must master it quickly.  For only she can stand up against her Aunt Redd... Only she can take back the throne of Wonderland and restore things to how they used to be... how they were always meant to be.

My thoughts: Pros...

The story in and of itself was very exciting.  I loved the action packed scenes, and Frank Beddor managed to bring the characters to life in a way I had never imagined.  Hatter Madigan is, of course, my favorite character. ^_^  I mean, who DOESN'T like the idea of a Bad-ass Mad Hatter???  Madigan had every type of weapon you could think of (and plenty that you couldn't even imagine... ;D) and he was very good at his job.  Alyss' character started out as being rather annoying in my eyes, but soon became likeable enough that I found myself rooting for her. :) The twist on the Cheshire Cat was at first disconcerting, as I honestly LIKE the Cheshire Cat better as a good guy, but I soon got used to the idea and found myself sitting on the edge of my seat during fighting scenes that involved the strange shape shifting, nine-life granted feline assassin. 

And the imagination!  In this book, rather than using "black magic" and "White Magic", Beddor uses "Black Imagination" and "White Imagination" which I liked a whole lot better.  Beddor plays up the idea that there is no limit to imagination... but it is how imagination is used that makes all the difference.  As a writer myself, this idea connected with me in a way that few other stories have, and it made me rethink several ideas for my own books as well. :D

My Thoughts: Cons...

For me, the writing in this book felt rather stinted, and while the plot and story in and of itself was intriguing and unique, there were quite a few places where I felt like the story was sort of "lagging"... falling behind or not living up to its potential. The story is written in an all Omniscient view that (on a very few occasions) speaks directly to the readers.  This is not necessarily a bad thing as I have seen it done well in the past.  However, it took a while for me to get used to it, and that took away from the story's experience.  Perhaps my biggest problem was the amount of time it took me to warm up to the main character, Alyss Heart.  At first I didn't like her at all... in fact, I found her Aunt Redd to be much more interesting than Alyss herself.  This, for me, was definitely an issue. It's better for me if I end up liking the main character right away rather than having to "warm up" to them.  I should at least be interested in them... but I found that I didn't much care for Alyss Heart at all until later in the book.

I give this book 3 out of five stars because I believe that the pros and the cons pretty much balance themselves out.  While the plot and unique twists of the book definitely make it well worth reading, the stinted writing and my contempt for the spoiled, rich, tantrum throwing young Alyss make me hesitate to add more stars than I already have. 

Well... I did it... I got brave... :D

Well... I got brave today. :D I actually did something I've never done before... something I never even considered doing until about 6 months ago...

I am OFFICIALLY self publishing a book of my poetry through createspace... :D

Part of this project is an experiment in manuscript formatting for print.  Granted, I'm not actually planning to use Createspace's services for Magpie Eclectic Press books -- I have another printer in mind for that, and I'm very excited about it all! (Seriously, these guys are awesome!)  But I figured that Createspace would be a quick and simple way for me to test my formatting skills for a paperback book... I would need to do it sooner or later anyway.  Which leads me in to the second reason I have for going through with this...  I have a sincere desire to have my poems compiled someplace other than bits and scraps of paper strewn all across my room.  Notebooks are nice enough, but not when they are falling apart, and not when you have two or three (or more) poems in each one.  Then it just gets confusing.  And besides, I have family members I would love to give copies too. :D My uncle Jesse and aunt Geinnie for one, and my aunt Phyllis, and aunt Ruth and uncle Robert. They are my mom's mom's (my grandma's) siblings and live in Northern Indiana, so I don't get to see them a lot (though they are all awesome!)  And a lot of my dad's family live up there too.  :D

But here's the deal; truth be told, I never thought I would actually go through with it. The poems in this book were never really meant to be seen.  I mean, I think they are good enough to be seen (well, I did write them, so of course I would think that!) But truly... they were just bits and pieces of creative overflow leaked onto paper and stashed in an old file cabinet... and desk drawer, and book case, and anywhere else I saw fit to stash them. :P  

However, NOW all that's changed.  NOW the compilation will be available on Amazon for kindle and in paperback... just in case anyone else is interested, ya know. ^_^ It's not ready to order yet; I still have to pour over the proof copy and double check for errors. But hopefully it will be ready soon!

And I'm still trying to get used to the thought.  *draws in deep breath*

Now, this project is a bit different than other projects I've taken on and other books I've worked with.  When I self published "Blue Moon", it was only in ebook formats.  With "Blue Moon", anyone could download the story straight to their digital reader in no time flat.  Plus, "Blue Moon" wasn't really long enough to be put into print format...  But with this book, it's actually going to be physical... sitting in my hands.  Working with the books for Magpie is different too; sure I'm excited about them, and yes they are amazing!  But for the most part, they aren't my own writing... this is completely different.  And even though it's poetry and not a novel, or even an anthology of short stories, this thought is intriguing to me... that I will be able to hold it in my hands and read it like I would one of my favorite poet's books...

This book is called "Remembering Innocence". And here is a little bit about it:

(from the back cover):  

I’m writing this to help you understand exactly what it is this collection of poems represents, both to me and of me...  

It wasn’t until I started college in 09 that I began to understand just how blind I was to the darkness that permeates the world. Oh, there are still wonderful and amazing places and people and events all around this great blue sphere that the human race calls home, but there is also sadness and pain, darkness and regret, hurt and lies, etc… Now that I see all of that, I simply can’t unsee it… the images and the realization of what the world truly is has now been ingrained in my personality, and to some degree I feel as if my true, pure innocence has been lost. My naivety has been swept back, like the white veil that hides a bride’s face, and I am forced to view the world for what it really is. 

There is some pain I’ve felt at the realization of this loss. Nothing devastating, of course, but sometimes it feels like there is an empty void in my chest where my innocence once held residence. Now in my early adult years, these poems are reminders of that lost part of me, sweet memories and thoughts transcribed in notebooks years ago when a fit of inspiration took me by surprise and wrought wonders on blank paper. My childhood innocence forged these memories, and now they remind me that the world can still be beautiful..."

And yeah, that pretty much sums it up.  That's what these poems are to me... little pieces of innocence from my past that have been preserved, even though my life has changed so much and become something more.  My naivety -- my childhood -- is poured into this compilation.  It's all there... and I'll soon be able to hold all of it in one place with my own two hands!!! :D  The excitement mounds!!! ^_^      

New Blog Post at "Aspiring Endnotes": Show Vs. Tell -- The Emotional Connection

Just wrote a new blog post on "Show vs. tell". I've written on the subject before (almost two years ago to the day), but this time is slightly different.  ;)  Come check it out, and leave a comment if you feel like it!  I love to hear about what readers think of my posts. ^_^
http://aspiringendnotes.blogspot.com/2013/01/show-vs-tell-emotional-connection.html

Nichole

"The New Recruit" by Jill Williamson -- a review

Hello friends!

Well, it's the first of the year and I thought it would be good to start this year off with a review.  My list of "to-read" books has grown, as has my list of "to-review" books, and I have simply fallen behind!  But I foresee good things for this year.  The 1rst day of 2013... positively anything could happen!  Since school's gotten out (and even though life has been crazy-hectic-weird in the last few weeks) I have read several books and have started work on SOTD again, even though my writing life had previously been stuck for months on end.  I consider that a sign of good things to come. :D

So here is my review! :)

"The New Recruit"
The Mission League
Mission #1: Moscow

Forced to choose between military school and a Christian spy organization, skeptic Spencer Garmond signs on with the Bible geeks.  But before he even boards the plane for Moscow, Spencer realizes this is no mere Bible club.

These guys mean business.

Stumbling onto a case involving a gang of homeless boys, a chilling tattoo, and the always beautiful Anya Vseveloda, Spencer struggles to find the faith needed to save the Mission League from enemy infiltration.


My Thoughts:

Pros:
This book, for me, was intriguing from the get-go.  I wasn't sure at first what I would think of it... I love speculative fiction of ALL kinds, but there is a special place in my heart for anything Fantasy, and sometimes I find myself getting skeptical of other types of fiction.  I should know by now to put that skepticism aside. lol!  And I was reminded that I should do this more often as I read through Jill's book.

"The New Recruit" is a mission report, told mostly through the eyes of Mission League agent-in-training, Spencer Garmond.  Spencer is a non-Christian, basketball-loving, wannabe tough-guy who lives with his Grandma and goes to a Christian school only because he's made to.  He doesn't buy into any of the lovey-dovey faith and prayer stuff that a lot of the other kids at his school believe in.  No, Spencer believes he's one of the few at his school who actually "get's" the real world and what's happening in it.  But when Spencer gets himself into yet another fight after school, his Grandma gives him an ultimatum: join "the Mission League", an organization of Bible-loving churcher missionaries who "pretend" they're all spies ... or go to military school.

The last thing Spencer wants to do is go to Military school... not if he has any chance of upping his basketball game and preparing to play college ball.  Spencer decides to join the League, if only to get his Grandma off his case, but he soon finds out that the kids in the Mission League aren't nearly as soft as he thought they were.  In fact, this organization means business.  And not only does Spencer soon realize this, but he also learns that his long-lost parents were in the League as well... and so was his Grandma.

When Spencer joins the team for a training trip to Moscow Russia, he accidentally stumbles across a case involving the ever stunning Anya Vseveloda, a girl that he's been having strange dreams about for years.  Spencer has never believed in spiritual warfare, or in the prophetic meanings of dreams, but he can't deny the fact that there's something weird going on with Anya.  First of all, how could he possibly dream about someone he's never seen before?  And second, why does Anya sometimes speak perfect English and other times choose to use a broken Russian accent?  And why does he get the cold-creepiest whenever he looks her in the eyes?  Strange too, is the tattoo that Anya wears on her arm - a maze in the shape of a yo-yo with a star in the middle.  Spencer's new Russian friend, Pasha, shares the same tattoo.  It looks cool, but there's some chilling mystery behind the symbol, and as the story progresses, Spencer begins to find it harder and harder to deny that there just might be something behind all this faith and prayer stuff after all... and that demons just might be real too.

I loved the voice of this story.  It's told in first person, but I felt that the character stayed true to his nature.  Knowing that the author herself is a christian, I figure it must have been a bit difficult to write from the POV of a very skeptical non-believing 15 year-old boy... especially using a modern day setting.  Spencer never slipped out of character, but the reader could feel the change of heart and mind as the story progressed... it almost felt as if I was learning and realizing things right along with Spencer, not as if I was watching him learn it all for himself.  Jill was able to hit on a lot of the questions that young teens have these days concerning Christianity, and she also addressed the different approaches that some Christians take in evangelizing.  My two favorite examples have to do with the characters Arianna and Gabe.

Arianna had a tendency to be pushy and preachy, always in Spencer's face about the fact that he was a non-believer.  She was only trying to help, but she didn't know how to go about it properly, and as Spencer said to her at one point: "Arianna, you can't make me your clone.  The more you try to, the more I want to push you off the balcony.  Just be my friend.  If you can't do that without nagging me every second, I don't want to be yours."

The way Spencer explained it to her is probably the best I've heard it put in ages.  Of course she was only trying to help him, but nobody likes to be pushed around and told how wrong they are all the time because they don't believe the same as somebody else.  That's partially why politics get so bad these days. ;)  If Arianna had just tried to be Spencer's friend before she tried to push him into a "religion", he might not have fought so hard against her urging.

Gabe, on the other hand, became Spencer's friend first... best friend, actually; almost like a brother.  In fact, Gabe considered Spencer to be like his brother.  Yes, Gabe made mistakes several times, and some of his actions were misunderstood by Spencer which brought about problems, but ultimately Gabe's goal was first to become a friend, and then to let their friendship do the evangelizing   I don't even know for sure if Gabe realized that this was his approach.  However, as the story progressed, it was Gabe's walk with Christ and the peace and security Gabe found in that walk that Spencer first started to think about.  He considered the other members of the team too, but Gabe's example was more prominent.  And it was Gabe's example that Spencer decided to follow when he went to talk his Russian friend,  Pasha, into leaving his life on the streets and returning to his family.

At the end of the story, Spencer is still a non-Christian who loves basketball, but we can see the change that has been worked in him by joining the Mission League.  Though Spencer is still skeptical, he's starting to understand that there is definitely more to the "religion" of Christianity than he ever thought.  In fact, he's starting to see beyond the tag of "religion" to understand that Christianity is actually a "relationship".  Though he's still unsure of himself and what the whole Christian-thing is really about, he makes the decision to start researching some of the stuff he's been told about in his Bible (the one his Grandma made him keep)... and perhaps church isn't such a terrible idea after all.  There's definitely something behind all the talk about prayer, because without the intercessors at the Mission League, he's pretty sure he would be dead or something worse with all that he's been through in Moscow... and then there's the thought of demons.  He never really believed in them before, but after his dealings with Anya, his perception definitely changes.  With the end of the book comes the promise of more adventures with the Mission League in which readers can hope to watch Spencer's perspective on Christianity evolve and develop while readers also enjoy high-action and suspense. :D

Cons:
I make it a point in most of my reviews not to harp on grammatical errors and typos.  After all, all books have typos and I don't like putting down a good story for something insignificant.  "The New Recruit" is most definately a good story -- even a GREAT one -- but at this moment in time, it is also chock-full of typos.  Not necessarily in the dialogue -- a lot of the dialogue, especially once the Mission League entered Moscow -- was written in such a way that readers would hear a Russian accent as they worked their way through the book.  Most of the typos I found were out of dialogue, in the meat of the story itself.  These included accidentally miss-spelled words, missing words, a name spelled one way here and another way there, and even at one point the use of a character name before we were actually introduced to the character.

The typos, however, are my only real con.  The rest of the book was pretty well done, so I hope that my mention of this doesn't turn anyone away from this read.  It's definitely worth reading.  The story itself is excellent. :D

Other Notes:
I've noted that in other reviews of this book, readers (especially male readers) were slightly perturbed with the idea that Spencer seemed to "hit on" every girl in the story.  This is something I didn't actually understand.  As I was reading the story, I noted that Spencer made a note of each of the girls in his group, and that he had an attraction towards only two of them... Beth and Isabel.  Most of the time he was annoyed with Arianna and tried not to be associated with her as much as possible, why Jensina just sort of lingered in the background.  He found Isabel to be extremely attractive, looks-wise, while he found himself drawn to Beth not only for the fact that she was pretty, but also because she was strong and athletic in ways that he also wished to be.  At one point in the story he noted that a Russian deaf girl, Svetlana, was extremely beautiful, but he admitted to himself that nothing would probably ever come of his attraction to her.

Now, I know that many of the male readers had made notes of these interactions in an unfavorable way when they wrote their reviews, but as an older sister with brothers in Spencer's age-range, I can honestly say that this actually happens more often than even boys may realize.  With Spencer being a non-Christian, he didn't quite have the morals that the other Christian boys had in his group, and so looking at girls like this was less shameful to him than it might have seemed to be to, say, Gabe or one of the other male agents-in-training.  My brother interacts with pretty girls his age in much the same way, even though I know for a fact that he doesn't realize that anyone else notices... especially the pretty girls he's trying to "woe".  (It's actually kind of funny, I think... watching him try like that. ;D)

So all in all, I didn't find anything wrong with the way Spencer acted around the females his own age in the Mission League.  They may not have shared his outlook on things, or even realized that he was thinking of him in a romantic way at all. (I know I have a tendency to be blind to those sort of things, and only realize that "oh hey! That boy seemed interested in me..." after my sister tells me so later.).

Just thought I'd mention it. :D

I received this book for Christmas, and was so glad that I did!  For those of you wondering, yes, that map of Moscow in the middle of the book is one that I did. :)  It was a lot of fun, but difficult too, as I had never tried to create a map based on an actual city before.  I'm used to doing more Fantasy-map type stuff. ;D

I was not required to write a good review for this book, but I definitely give it 4 out of 5 stars.  It's a book worth reading, so if you haven't yet, you should totally look into it! :D

Until next time my friends, God bless, Happy writing, and a HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! :D

Nichole White

Life Threw Down the Gauntlet (Subtitled: I’m going insane!)

Just in case you didn’t get the reference behind the title of this post, to “throw down the gauntlet” isn’t like the saying, to “throw in the towel”.  They sound similar but mean totally different things.

To throw down the gauntlet is actually a way to issue a challenge, and the action (as well as the phrase) originated in medieval times as a choice way for knights and lords (etc…) to challenge each other.

To throw in the towel means to give up.

For me, life threw down the gauntlet, and after picking up the challenge, I sometimes wish I could throw in the towel.  But of course I’m too stubborn and determined to do that. :P

I HAVE BEEN SO BUSY LATELY I FEEL LIKE I COULD FACEPLANT ON CONCRETE AND NOT EVEN FEEL THE PAIN BECAUSE I'M SO TIRED AND GOING MAD!!!! :D

If you thought this blog post was going to be some great informational thing, you were wrong… this is me rambling and typing stream of consciousness as fast as I can in order to maintain my sanity… because if I don’t do this, my sanity will fly out the window.  It will.  It’s already threatening to do just that and I’ve done everything short of physically chaining it to my leg in order to keep it under control. 

That, and I’m currently running on 1 ½ hours of sleep.  :P  My Music Theory 1 composition was due this morning, and of course I would decide to get creative, don’t ya know?  I started work on the composition weeks ago, but it’s really difficult to be creative and stay within a series of rather strict rules.  You can’t break any of them without getting marked down, so you really have to be kept on your toes… Yeah. 

This is what my composition sounds like: 

I would show you pictures of the composition, but I had to hand in the original to my teacher…  luckily for me I still have the rough draft… which is exactly the same as the “nice-n-neat” version, only sloppy.  Unfortunately I don’t have a camera to take a picture of it.  I put the notes of the composition into my computer’s dictation software after theory this morning and saved it as a PDF and a WAVE file… but I’m not at my computer right now so my access to pictures is non-existent. :P  The WAVE file only works because I downloaded it earlier to Soundcloud. ^_^

Let’s see… what else is happening in my life?  Oh… that Nano thing I tried???  EPIC FAIL!  Yeah, I probably wrote about 10 words and then life just decided to run me over with a proverbial bus.  So much for that idea…  I have homework due tomorrow that I am currently avoiding (but will not be able to avoid for much longer if I want to pass my classes this semester).  I also have voice juries next Friday (not this Friday, thank the Lord!) and need to finish memorizing my German piece. 

ONLY TWO WEEKS LEFT!  THE FINISH LINE IS IN SIGHT!  JUST TWO MORE WEEKS… TWO MORE WEEKS…

My “NEED TO READ” list of books has grown, of course… one of my classes this semester is speed reading, so that’s helped a little as far as chipping away into the living and ever growing pile of literature taking over my room…  but it’s barely dented the thing.  I have book reviews that I need to post and I just haven’t had a chance to write them… I mean, sure, taking five minutes out of my time to type up something stupid and rambling like this blog post is nothing, but sitting down to write out a thought provoking and truthful book review is another thing entirely.  If I’m going to write about the book, I should do it justice…

What I’m doing now – this thing, right now, that I am doing at my computer – is not justice.  It’s not even “just nice”… it might be “just”, but even that is pushing it. Lol! :P  Books deserve better than the half-crazed ramblings of a lunatic, and if I were not a lunatic at the moment, I would give them the better… but I don’t have it right now.  I lost it and I can’t seem to find it, so they are just going to have to do without until I remember where I put the darned thing. :P

There are other things going on in my life – big things!  Things I want to shout to the world and let everyone know about because I am so, SO excited about them!!!!  But similar to how books deserve better than my mad murmurings, I’m not going to talk about those things on here just yet… I need to be looking, sounding, and feeling better (and preferably more professional) before that happens.    But the news will come soon!

And let’s see… what else?  Oh, I picked up on the commissions I’ve been behind on… over Thanksgiving break I started working on them again, but school started again Monday and so they’ve once more been put to the side .  :P  JUST TWO MORE WEEKS!  I’m more than ready to finish up these commissions and send them off – I know that the authors who have hired me for them are ready for me to do that as well – but my concentration is split in so many different directions right now, with finals coming up and trying to make sure that I actually pass my classes (which is looking scarily unpredictable right now), and there’s also been the big things that I want to tell you about but won’t… anyway, there has been so much going on (mostly with school, though) that I simply can’t balance it all.  To those of you who commissioned me for art, I know I’ve said this before, but please bear with me: IT WILL GET DONE! 

It will… I swear it will.  But I have to be able to think straight first… :P

And the Hobbit is coming out DEC. 14… The HOBBIT…. THE HOBBIT!  I think the publicists might have planned that simply to see how much more crazy I could handle.  Seriously, they were like “Oh, she’s already almost insane… let’s see what might happen if we prepare something for her that she will absolutely freak out over.  Her stress levels can’t get THAT much higher.”  Lol!  I don’t know, I don’t know… all I know is that I’m totally stoked for the release and I hope to make it to a midnight showing… I really, really want to go to a midnight showing!  It’s going to be epicness, I’m sure!

Is there anything else, now?  Have I vented enough?  I know I’ve said a lot, but is that everything???

Well, there IS more, but I’m actually starting to feel better for having done this.  I think I might even feel better enough for me to stop typing now.  At least my hands aren’t balled up in fists around chunks of my hair anymore, and I think my breathing may have evened out some… this is quite therapeutic!

Anyway, I will stop boring you, my friends, with my crazy talk now.  I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and I hope you will have an amazing Christmas to go with it!  Hopefully things will clear up in my life much sooner than I’m expecting them to (that would be wonderful!) and I’ll be able to join the blogging world, a complete human being once more, and not some half brain-dead zombie from the academic underworld. :P

Farewell!  God bless you all, and happy writing!

Nichole

NanoLand a Week Late

Hello friends!

I haven't blogged since September, and yes, that is probably the longest I have ever gone without posting to this blog  You may wonder WHY I have been gone for so very long, and the answer is... well, mostly school.  It's been crazy.  Free time has been practically non-existent, and when it is existent it's dedicated mostly to homework.  With that in mind, you are now probably thinking that I must be crazy to try and tackle Nanowrimo in the middle of everything else.  You would be right... but that is not stopping me!

Now, technically, I'm not doing Nanowrimo the "right" way this year.  Instead of starting with a brand new novel that I've never worked on before, I'm following Wayne Thomas Batson's lead and working on the re-re-rewrite of Song of the Daystar.  And instead of starting the story at the very beginning, I'm starting at the second chapter... and I'm starting today.

Yeah... *sigh* Nano has officially been going for 8 days now, and I am going to start today... tonight, actually.  Probably at home... if I can find somewhere quiet to work. :P  My starting word count is 9,212.  I've been stuck on Chapter 2 now for MONTHS and it just hasn't been moving forward... so now I'm going to see if I can jump into Nano late and actually get something DONE.  If I actually make it to 50k I'll be lucky, and extremely happy, but I'm personally going to be aiming MUCH lower... I would like to hit 20k or 30k new words by the end of the month. With my writing life going as slow as it has been, I don't think that's too much to ask.

And so, in honor of this crazy but satisfying decision, here's an excerpt from the rewrite of SOTD.  Only one person has seen any of this rewrite before... so here goes nothing. *gulps*  Feel free to tell me what you think of it. ^_^

Prologue

Breaking

36 Súlor, 1394 AB

The wind smelled of death, change, and fear… but mostly fear.

Djar’zla inhaled deep, gazing out from the cliffside past the desolation of the Hoarfrost Mountains to the southern horizon and the lands that lay beyond.  The winds came from that direction, thick, wretched, and filled with the cloying scent of pain.  They swirled about him, tugging at the ancient tatters of his frayed dark robes, snagging the long, thin strands of black hair still left on his balding pate.  High above the bite of the jagged peaks, a cloud of great black Corvus wheeled in droves and cawed out a single, solemn word: “Doom!”

The corners of Djar’zla’s mouth twisted upward in a vicious grin as he drew in another deep breath.  So… the Ealyone were suffering.  Dark satisfaction welled in his chest.  They would pay dearly for their crimes against him, and their blood would slake the earth.  It had been ages since he last felt the wind or saw the real sky turn grey with predawn light; ages since he beheld the mighty peaks of the Hoarfrost or heard the roar of the great waterfall gushing out into the river called Hoara’s Rush.  For centuries he had lain bound in darkness deep under the wastelands of the world, forced into a slumber of nightmares and death by the words and the blood of the Ealyone’s kings.  Their anguish now could hardly count as penance for his misery, but their grief brought with it a penchant both bitter and sweet.  Bitter because it was a sharp reminder of what he had once been and was no longer; and sweet because it meant that they were in torment – they were breaking.

Djar’zla said the word once, tasting every syllable – every letter – as it dripped off his tongue.  Breaking.  Oh, the Ealyone were such fragile things!  Dust and water, mud and rain.  If you dropped them hard enough, they cracked open like a porcelain vase, and once broken inside their minds were malleable as a lump of clay.

They called themselves human now.  It was a new word, a curious word – one Djar’zla had never heard before and he rolled it around on his tongue weighing its merit.  No doubt the word had been invented by one of their learned men… what were they called?  Scholars?  Djar’zla chuckled.  They were such funny little creatures, the Ealyone, calling themselves one thing or another, as if that would make any real difference.  Their minds were just as fragile now as they’d been two thousand years ago.  Soon they’d have no more use for petty words; he would make sure of it.

Looking to the skies, Djar’zla barked a command to the Corvus overhead – “Nrythkai!” – and one of the larger birds wheeled away from the rest to land at its master’s feet.  Once come of a noble race, the creature now before him looked little more than a reanimated carcass, albeit a vicious one.  Large black wings wrapped around its body, rank and oily.  Feathers – matted, frayed, and falling out in clumps – clung to skin that barely covered the bird’s skeletal structure. Dagger-sharp teeth jutted out of its beak at odd angles, and long, scaled legs stretched down to razor talons that clicked ominously against the stone.

But the eyes… the eyes were the most revolting, the most unnerving.  A masterpiece so flawed in its making, even Djar’zla could not stare at them for long.  Irises of deep red, dark as a thick pool of blood, almost black; and pupils – each a narrow slit like those of a snake or a cat – glazed over by clouded, lifeless grey, as if the mists shrouding the serrated peaks of the Hoarfrost had seeped in and couldn’t find their way out again.

The bird shifted uneasily before him, sensing its master’s dark mood.  It feared what might become of it should Djar’zla prove aggressive.  Djar’zla closed his eyes as the bird’s dread washed over him. He always knew the emotions and thoughts of his creations, could sense them like a snake tastes the air.  Fear was always strongest, followed closely by hate.  He cared little for the latter; what did it matter if his creations hated him, so long as they obeyed him?  But fear…  

Such a fitting emotion, Djar’zla thought, allowing the sweet sensation to engulf him.  The bird’s terror was like sugar on his tongue.  He smiled down at it, satisfied.  Fear is a worthy gift to give one who holds the power of life and death in his palms.

When he addressed the bird at last, he made no attempt to hide his loathing.  His own creation or not, the bird was disgusting.  “Gather your strongest flyers,” he said.  “I want to know the truth behind the rumors on the wind.  Find out why the Ealyone suffer – discover their torments – and report the cause back to me.  It may be we can use this to our advantage.”

The Corvus cocked its head and gurgled something in its throat – a long, unintelligible line of syllables locked together in some form of attempted communication.  A question?

Djar’zla sneered.  “I don’t care,” he growled.  “Stealth is of no consequence in this.  Let them see you and cower in fear, but be swift.  The time for action draws near, and you will not make me miss such an opportunity because of indolence!”  He lashed out with his foot, catching the bird in its ribs.  Squawking and scrabbling, the creature scuttled backward, flapping great dark wings until it lifted from the precipice and soared back to its brethren circling above.

Djar’zla watched the skies until a group of the giant black birds separated themselves from the rest of the flock and turned south.  Inwardly, he seethed.  It was a ridiculous paradox that he was forced to rely on them for news of the southern realms; that he, the mighty Djar’zla, had fallen to such depths.  Of course the creatures couldn’t understand what he meant when he spoke to them; they were too dumb for that.  They could make out words – maybe a few syllables – but the true meanings behind those words escaped them.  It was only their bond to him – the bond between creator and created – that allowed him absolute control and access to their mental pathways.  They were pathetic.  Absolutely revolting.  Dark, defiled, and crippled creatures with no true will and with minds twisted beyond any point of return.  They were the imperfect works of his dark genius, purveyors of his misery, and now his only cracked and fogged up window to the outside world.

The irony was not lost on him.

Scowling, he turned away and faced the mountain of his bondage.  In its side gaped the sinister mouth of a cave, a fissure torn from the very fabric of the mountain’s stone and left to bleed its poison on the world.   Jagged pieces of rock hung from the fissure’s top and jutted from its bottom, like the bared fangs of a Baldhoara Beast preparing to attack.  From deep within the darkness of the mountain’s open maw, a sound of groaning – of strong wind – rose up and was spewed out from the giant orifice in a puff of air.

The mountain breathed.

Djar’zla stepped forward as the breeze from the cave brushed the dark strands of hair away from his face.  The corners of his lips twisted up in a grin.  With one last look at the pale morning sky, he squared his shoulders and marched straight into the blackness of the mountain’s waiting jaws.  And the mountain swallowed him.

Djar’zla needed no light to tread the path that wound from the cave’s mouth deep into the bowels of the earth.  He had walked it many times since his waking.  With one hand placed on the cold stone wall as a guide, he plunged deeper and deeper into the void, turning corners and skirting obstacles with ease.  Here he ducked the lintel of a tunnel entrance; there he skirted a fall of rocks that had tumbled down in the dark to seal the mouth of a cavern or passageway.

There were many ancient riddles, many dark and sacred mysteries that lay hidden in the deep places of this mountain – his mountain.  Centuries of knowledge stored up, far beyond the grasp of mortal minds.  Miles and miles underground, the fissure that was the gate into the world’s core stretched out and became giant caverns and catacombs – mausoleums threaded with crystal and precious metals; chambers where wild and strange beasts roamed, where the dark miasmic juices of the world conjoined, and where evil breathed as a living entity.

The Ealyone had forgotten it, were forbidden to enter it; it was a place no living mortal man had ever willingly set eyes upon, and for centuries uncounted, it had been his prison, secluded and abandoned in the range of the Hoarfrost – a fitting crypt in which to bury what once had been known as truth.  While he’d slept, the mountain’s belly had been his bondage, but now that he was awake again, it became his sanctuary, his unbreachable fortress.   It was here, within the bowels of the earth’s dark catacombs that the makings of his retribution took on flesh.

Djar’zla turned one last corner and stepped into the familiar giant cavern – his destination.  Unlike the other chambers of the underground world, this one had torches lit and burning in sconces spaced along the walls.  In the center of the room, a long flat pedestal of glassy black stone rose out of the floor and burned with the reflected light of the torch flames.  Djar’zla knew that pedestal intimately; every minute pock and every invisible mar.  During the years of his bondage it had been his bier, shackles of its living stone binding him to its surface.  Even in the nightmares, the pedestal had been present, a constant reminder of his captivity – a constant reason to hate.

But now there was a new figure on the pedestal.  A weak one – a female.     The silhouettes of bones poked through the milk-white skin of the Ealyone’s bare torso, and a film of fevered sweat covered her body in a glossy sheen that left damp patches on the thin linen coverings around her waist and upper chest.  Clumps of lank dark hair that once had been long, thick, and attached to the creature’s head, now lay around her like a beast’s shed coat.  The shackles of stone that had held Djar’zla captive circled the new occupant’s wrists, ankles, and neck, securing her to the pedestal’s surface.  The creature didn’t fight against them.  Couldn’t.  Her eyes were closed.  When she breathed, a terrible rattling sound rumbled in her chest – the sound of a living being about to die.

A cruel smile lifted the corners of Djar’zla’s lips.  Oh, how ironic for her!  She could never have dreamed the consequences of traveling through the Hoarfrost by herself, could never have known what her mere presence would accomplish.  After all, so many years had passed since his binding that the story of it was now only legend and myth – a fireside tale to frighten children and awaken bravery in young men’s hearts.  It was because of her that he was lifted from the tangle of enchanted nightmares and brought back into the waking world, and he was forever grateful; she had walked into the mountains of her own free will, and in so doing had secured her doom.

Cupping his hands behind his back like a schoolmaster about to give a lecture, Djar’zla stalked forward and addressed the pedestal’s captive.  “It is now begun.  The line of the Old Kings is failing, and soon the curse laid upon me will be broken.  All thanks to you, my queen – my brave little champion.”  He laughed, the echo resounding through the cavern, growing longer as it bounced off the walls.  The woman on the pedestal never opened her eyes, but Djar’zla detected a catch in her breath.  She was awake, however hard she tried to pretend she wasn’t, and he knew that his words cut deep.  “It is now only a matter of time,” he continued, “and we have plenty of that.  The one good mark left upon me from the curse – I have learned patience well.”  

This time she did open her eyes, but their dark brown color had faded from years of ill treatment, the pupils misting over as the whites grew bloodshot from gazing into darkness.  She stared at the ceiling, never even tried to look at him.  It was this stubbornness that annoyed him most, for whenever she spoke, her words were directed at him, but she never once, in all her years underground, acknowledged his existence with her eyes.

“Your words have no substance,” she croaked.  “Whatever daemon you are and however powerful you may be, these mountains still hold you captive.  They are your chains.  Or why else are you still here?”

“To gloat,” he offered.  “To rub your folly in your face.  It does my soul no end of good to watch yours break in pieces.”

She drew in another ragged breath.  Soon the effort of speech would drain her body of strength, but he admired her audacity.  It would be fun to watch her finally fall apart in the end.

“My soul is not broken,” she managed at last, “Only my body.”

“Your body may be all that’s needed to break your soul.  Pain is a powerful persuader, and the mind will often betray the heart.  You will break eventually, my queen.  Your kind always does.”  

The woman’s chest shuddered and spasmed as she drew in her next breath, forcing her words through clenched teeth. “What you seek cannot be found in this cavern, Djar’zla.  Beware.  The blood of the Old Kings is far from ending.  Your reign will fall.”

And there she went again, speaking like a curséd Sibyl!

Djar’zla scowled, the torch lights turning a venomous green with his mood.  “I don’t care for your riddles, witch,” he hissed at her.  “Your tongue is more problems than it’s worth.”

A dry, croaking laugh exploded from her throat. “Riddles?” she gasped. “Riddles!” And her laugh broke into a rattling cough.

Striding up to the pedestal, Djar’zla placed his palms flat onto the black stone and leaned forward until his face was directly over hers.  She closed her eyes again.

“What do you know?” he hissed into her face.  “You are keeping something from me.  I recognize the curse of Sibyl.  I know your type.  Tell me what it is you see, or I will force it from you.”

 Her lips pursed into a tight line.  She did not reply.

“Then so be it.”

Slowly, without emotion, Djar’zla let the power from his core seep into the stone.  A scream ripped from the woman’s throat as her body arced in pain.  Blue electricity sizzled over her arms and thighs, wrapped itself around her torso.  The few clumps of hair left on her head burned to a cinder and fell to the pedestal’s surface in ashes.  It took so little effort to torment her, so little energy, that he felt it a shame to cut the ordeal short, yet he needed her alive.  She was the key to his freedom, after all; he had yet to find the lock, but once it was found, he still needed the key.

Cutting the flow of power, he watched her body sink back to the pedestal’s surface, a charred and blistered, unconscious mess.  She was strong, admittedly, but he could see her breaking.  She was Ealyone, after all – dust and water, nothing more.  They always broke in the end.

At the cavern’s entrance, he turned back to survey the room one last time.  Each torch that fell under his stare sputtered and went out until only one still burned.  Before he extinguished it, he let his gaze linger over the emaciated body of the woman.  “You are wrong,” he whispered to her.  “The old king is dead, and his son is young and reckless.  The winds speak of torment and betrayal in the southern realms.  My reign is only just begun; mountains will fall before it ends.”

And as he turned and left the room, the last torch sputtered out, plunging the woman into darkness.

A few quick updates. :D

Hello my friends! :)

Some of you may remember that a few months ago I posted about a new blog I had started, called "Aspiring Endnotes", in order to talk about publishing - publishing advice, articles, things I've learned along the way - in a way that didn't make me constantly feel like I was blaring self-promotion all over this blog.  Here's an excerpt from that post:

Some of you are probably wondering why I would set up a separate blog for that, when I could just post everything here at the P&P. But the truth is, every time I posted something about Magpie Eclectic here, I felt like I was self-promoting – advertising. That’s not really the purpose of the P&P, so I thought I would set up a separate blog for that sort of stuff… for talking about publishing through the eyes of one who is learning how to become a publisher. This blog here (the P&P) is for my personal journey as a writer… the Aspiring Endnotes blog is for my personal journey as a publisher. I’ve found that I look at the world of writing and publishing through different eyes, depending on which subject I’m working on, and which role I take on as I’m working on it (writer, or publisher). So I feel like it’s just better to have my two views on the subjects separated... to keep them from getting mixed up. :)

Well, today I officially opened my "Aspiring Endnotes" blog with an article about writing query letters.  If you are curious about it, you can find the article here.  In this article, I talk about some things I've learned through research and trial and error while working on my own query letters, and I also talk about several issues I've come across while reading query letters and acquisitions from authors who have submitted to Magpie Eclectic Press.  I hope this article is helpful to you. :)

Please note, however, that this blog is not currently the blog linked to through the Magpie Eclectic Press website.  However, I'm working to get that changed. ^_^

Thank you everyone!  Happy writing, and God bless,

Nichole White

"Sneak" by Evan Angler -- A Book Review

In a future United States under the power of a charismatic leader, everyone gets the Mark at age thirteen. The Mark lets citizen shop, go to school, and even get medical care—but without it, you are on your own. Few refuse to get the Mark. Those who do . . . disappear.

Logan Langly went in to get his Mark, but he backed out at the last minute. Now he’s on the run from government agents who will stop at nothing to capture him. But Logan is on a mission to find and save his sister, Lily, who disappeared five years ago on her thirteenth birthday, the day she was supposed to receive her Mark.

Logan and his friends, a group of dissenters called the Dust, discover a vast network of the Unmarked, who help them travel safely to the capital city where Lily is imprisoned. Along the way, the Dust receives some startling information from the Markless community, opening their eyes to the message of Christianity and warning that humanity is now entering the End of Days.

When the Dust finally arrives in the capital, it seems that all their careful planning is useless against a government that will do anything to bend its citizens to its will. Can the gentle words Logan has found in a tattered, banned Bible really stand against the most powerful military the world has ever known? Can Logan even sacrifice his own freedom, choosing to act through faith alone?

*****

My thoughts:

First of all, before you read my review on "Sneak", you might want to read my review on "Swipe" here.

Quite honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to pick up this book after reading the first one... the first book was intriguing and interesting, but for me it was slow to get into and easy to put down. However, I decided to pick up this book anyway because the first book did show promise. I was happy that I did decide to read "Sneak" because I wasn't disappointed. Personally, I enjoyed "Sneak" more than I enjoyed "Swipe". "Sneak" wasn't like my experience with the first book. Instead, I found "Sneak" to be instantly engaging from the beginning. I was drawn in and held there through the entire story, and ended up finishing the book in a day and a half. :D

Our character, Logan, is slowly growing into his new role as a member of the Dust... but he's not the only one. His friend, Erin, is also learning and growing; she's discovered some things about the Mark and DOME's other experiments having to do with the Global Peace Treaty that have put much of the population in serious danger... and this information is so secretive that no one else knows about it, even though it is slowly killing them.

In the meantime, the Dust are going to the Capitol in order to find Logan's sister, Lily, who disappeared after her Mark ceremony five years earlier. To do that, they've acquired help from The River, which isn't actually a river at all but a group of unmarked people (and a few sympathetic marked people too) working together to help other unmarked people find resources and get around the country. Sort of like the Underground Railroad around the time of the civil war. I really liked this turn of events... while there seemed to be less gadgetry in this book, the unmarked also showed more creativity. For example, in the style of the Underground Railroad, the people in The River used special signs to help travelers and other unmarked find their way. There are signs for leaders, safe-houses, supplies, rides, and even danger, and the signs are not always what or where you expect them to me, which helps to keep The River hidden (even if it is known about) from the marked population and DOME. The unmarked also show their creativity in how they build make-shift radios, have set up their own society under the very nose of the marked population, etc... so, less gadgetry, but just as interesting.

There was also a twist at the end of the story... I'm still not sure how that twist effects the rest of the story yet, but I'm looking forward to reading the next book and finding out. :D There were other things in the story that I found predictable... I'll admit to having anticipated the twist at the end before it happened, but I did not predict how the twist was delivered. And besides, I suspect that this is partially because I read A LOT of books in similar genres, and write in these genres myself.

All in all, I liked this book better than the last one. It was faster paced, and for me, definitely more engaging. So for this book, I'm going to promote it by a star from my last review, and give "Sneak" 4 stars out of five. I definitely look forward to picking up the next book in the series. :D


For those who are interested, here's an intriguing article from the author concerning music:

Evan Angler’s Infinite Playlist:

Music, I think, is an important pillar of the creative mind. And as an author, it’s an equally important part of any book. It doesn’t matter what the writing is about, and it doesn’t matter what the story is; writing is music. Our words have rhythms and cadence, our sentences make melodic lines. There are fast sections, slow sections, loud paragraphs, quiet paragraphs. Good writing, for me, lights up my brain much like good music does.

This relationship, of course, goes both ways. If writing informs music, then it stands to reason that music must also inform writing. Certainly, I’ve found this in my own experience. With my first book, SWIPE, I wrote almost everything either in the dark, or on the run, in the motion of electrobuses and boxcars, with my hood up and my oversized headphones on. For some of that time, indeed, my focus demanded quiet. But for much of my writing and drafting and thinking, I was immersed in a blanket of music. Loud music. And I found that its genre dictated the writing’s tone. With SWIPE, my musical selections often gravitated toward electroclash, a genre I didn’t even know existed until I found myself craving it for the underscore of SWIPE’s scenes. Often, I’d play the music so loud that I needed to stuff my ears with tissue paper, because I liked the feel of the heavy beats hitting my brain, pushing me forward, relentless, unforgiving…. The gritty, electronic timbre of the music just seemed to belong with the tech-filled but flawed world of the American Union, and the energy conveyed by that music–both in the faster and in the more somber selections–captured for me the sense of foreboding, anxiety, excitement and, ultimately, determination that Logan feels over the course of his journey.

SNEAK, on the other hand, called for a very different sort of sound. In trying to capture the setting and mood of the Unmarked River, I often found myself gravitating toward pre-Unity bluegrass and folk music, another genre that had never captured my attention–until I the writing called for it. The acoustic guitars, the banjos, the fiddles, the harmonies…in many ways, SNEAK is about the loneliness and uncertainty of venturing out on one’s own, of a search for simplicity and truth. In a world of high-tech stakes, the Dust’s journey through much of SNEAK is practically of a different era. Horse rides, hiking, camp fires, radios…after the events of SWIPE, Logan is truly an outcast, and there’s just no place for him in the more modern world of the American Union. What better way to capture that then with the oldest traditions of music that American history has to offer? Bluegrass and folk, there’s nothing else like it.

The third book in the Swipe Series has yet another soundtrack altogether. I can’t wait for you to hear it, and to discover all that its soundscape implies. But that is a story for another day, and that is a playlist for another time….
So if you’ll excuse me, I have some headphones I need to find…


Here's the book link to Amazon: "Sneak" by Evan Angler

And for those of you who would like to read more reviews on this book, here are the links to the other blogs posting reviews on this tour:

ADD Librarian • http://addlibrarian.wordpress.com/

Blooming with Books • http://www.bloomingwithbooks.webs.com/

The Book Fae • http://www.thebookfae.wordpress.com/

Book Nook 4 You • http://booknook4you.blogspot.com/

Bookworm Reading • http://bookwormreading.blogspot.com/

Christian Book Review Blog • http://christianbookreviewblog.blogspot.com/

Heavenward Reviews • http://noahsreads.blogspot.com/

Jill Williamson • http://www.jillwilliamson.com/?p=8624

Labor Not in Vain • http://labornotinvain.blogspot.com/

The Maniacal Bookworm • http://themaniacalbookworm.blogspot.com/

Oh, Restless Bird • http://www.ohrestlessbird.com/

The Pen and Parchment • http://theravenquill.blogspot.com

Reviews by Jane • http://www.reviewsbyjane.blogspot.com/

Shadow Writer World • http://shadowwriterworld.blogspot.com/