Updates on my life… And no, I’m not Dead Yet

It has been a long time since I’ve posted something meaningful on this blog, and I truly am sorry for that.  I honestly can’t say why that would be, either.  It’s not that I don’t have lots of interesting things to talk about, because I do… I suppose.  And it’s not necessarily that I don’t have time for it either, because I suppose I have that as well. 

 

Perhaps it’s just sheer procrastination.  I’m not sure anymore.  I’m busy, as always, but that is really no excuse.  I’ve just plain been avoiding it, I guess.  On a side note, I’m in some pretty desperate need of a solid job, and though I’ve been applying all over and have had several interviews, I’ve yet to be hired.  It’s rather discouraging, to be truthful, but people keep telling me that perhaps it’s because I just haven’t found the right job yet, and that God knows which one I need.  I keep praying about it.  Hopefully something will come up soon.

But speaking of interesting jobs and what not, there’s been no end to creative release for my overly active mind.  Over the holidays I made a TON of new jewelry.  I also lost my camera, which is why there have been no pictures of them, but I found it the other day so hopefully I’ll be able to post new pictures soon.  I honestly don’t know what I find so fascinating and fun about twisting wire and adding beads, but I find it soothing… something for my hands to do without my mind having to process a whole lot of information, guess.  It’s comforting.

On the other hand, I’ve also picked up a few new commission jobs; some exciting ones at that. :)  I know that some of you out there are writing friends and followers of Jake Buller over at his blog “Teenage Writer”.  And if you follow Jake, then you’re probably aware of his novella “The War Horn” which has been in progress for a while now, and has been discussed on his blog several times.  Jake is quite the talented writer, I must say, and I was excited when he let me read through part of his first draft for TWH.  But I was totally honored when he came to me a few weeks ago and asked if I would do his cover art for him.  Jake currently lives in Liberia, having just moved there with his family from Kansas.  He is planning to publish TWH for kindle through Amazon, and the proceedings from the book will help fund his way back to the States for a writing conference that he really wants to attend.  Right now he’s waiting for feedback from his ARC’s, but the book should be available to purchase sometime near the end of February.  Here’s a look at his cover art, in case you are interested.  If what I’ve read and what he described for me was anything to go by, the book should definitely be worth looking into.

But that’s not the only exciting piece I’ve started work on.  I know that many of you are followers of Jill Williamson and her “Blood of King’s” trilogy Published through Marcher Lord Press.  Her newest book “Replication” just hit shelves in January, and I wrote a review for it here on the P&P.  It was quite a page turner, I’ll tell you!  Now, Marcher Lord is preparing to release yet another of her books in the fall, and GUESS WHO’S WORKING ON THE MAP FOR IT!!!  ^_^

 I seriously cannot tell you how excited I am. :D 

Jill Williamson is one of my most favorite, if not THE most favorite Speculative Christian Author on my list today.  Her “Blood of Kings” trilogy is really phenomenal, as is her new book “Replication”, and I’m sure that her latest book will be just as awesome.  On the flip side of the coin, Marcher Lord Press is the premier indie publisher of Christian Speculative fiction in the world.  They’ve published some truly spectacular material, and picked up some big names in the last few years with Sharon Hink’s “Restorer” books, and Kathy Tiers’ “Firebird” trilogy.  And they continue to grow.  It’s just a little mind boggling for me to think that if all goes well, one of my maps might actually be in an MLP book… and not just any MLP book, but the book of my favorite Christian author to date (besides Tolkien and Lewis, of course.)  It’s a little frightening and a whole lot of tingly.

I gotta tell you, God is amazing. ^_^

And speaking of God and books, I finally, FINALLY moved forward with Magpie Eclectic Press.  We are now open to submissions. :D  However, I’ve decided that the company’s official launch date won’t be until we actually release a book for market.  Because, after all, we definitely want people to see what we can offer them.  ^_^

Still, for now, Magpie is up and running and we are on our way.  And at the moment, I’m just trying to get the word out about the open submissions.  I have several online interviews lined up to talk about what the company is about, how we differ from other houses, why we are different from self publishing and vanity presses, etc…  The types of questions that authors want to know the answers to before looking at a publisher, as well as the types of questions all curious authors want to ask about the publishing business itself.

I must be honest, it’s daunting to look at some of the questions being asked.  I believe I’m ready for them – I honestly and truly do – but this is still a big first step for me.  Do I have the answers to all of them, and if I do, are they the right ones?  I won’t lie, I’ve already wondered if I might have opened the company too soon, or if I should have opened it at all.  Can I truly handle this, or was it never meant to be? 

Well, I believe it was certainly meant to be.  I believe that the idea for it was planted and watered by God, and I believe that I have the passion and knowledge to carry it forward.  But I’ve disillusioned myself.  I said from the beginning that I couldn’t do it alone, and I stick by that instinct; I’m hiring out for help.  No way could I complete everything by myself and do it well… God has placed many talented people in this world and in my path, and I’m so grateful for his provision.

But do I actually have the answers to the questions that people are going ask me in these interviews?  Am I really ready for this?  Will the authors see and understand from my answers that I will really WORK for their books… that I truly want to, and will pour my heart into it?  Will they understand that my passion goes beyond these words into the actions and the steps that I will take for them… or will they just see a girl pretending to be something as if this were all just a dream?  Will they read what I have to say and take me and this company seriously? 

I guess that’s what I’m really worried about.

But I’ve done my research and thought long and hard on everything that this huge endeavor is going to take.  I’ve hosted and read interviews on the subjects involved, read articles, watched and listened to news casts, read books, searched blogs, studied publishing companies, their methods, and their markets, written papers and articles on the subject, blogged about it… I’m even studying to be an English Major simply because I know that I’m supposed to be working in the publishing industry, and I might decide to take on a publishing major afterward.  I’m not even going to try to pretend like I know everything now, but I know a lot and I’ve answered questions like these before.  Like I’ve said, this is a large first step for me, but I know I have God on my side, and my passion is for words.  I desperately want to help other writers bring their words and stories into the world so that readers can enjoy them too.  I want Magpie Eclectic to be trusted as a source of good, strong Christian Speculative fiction all over the U.S. and hopefully beyond.  I mean, truly, it’s all about the stories and coming together as a writing/publishing family, based on Christian morals and standards.

So yes… I think I’m ready.  God willing, I’m ready.  Prayers are welcomed, as I work to get Magpie securely anchored on its feet.   But you can’t take a step forward without standing first, and that’s why I’ve opened Magpie for submissions.  That’s why I knew it was time.

(And sorry if this all sounds like a bunch of rambling thrown out to form some sort of pep talk.  If you don’t understand what I’m going on about, no worries.  I simply think best when I’m typing freely, and I do THAT best when I’m blogging. ;D)

If, by any chance, you are interested in submitting to Magpie Eclectic Press, you can visit our temporary Website at www.wix.com/nichole_white/magpie-eclectic-press.  Please ignore any missing apostrophes or the like that you may stumble across… I haven’t figured out exactly WHY the site is refusing to leave them in, even after I go back through and insert them all again.  I know it looks very unprofessional without them, and its driving me insane!  But I am working with someone to prepare a more professional and polished website for the company… one that will have no problem leaving punctuation in its proper place.  Aside from that, however, this site does have our terms laid out for any who wish to submit something to us.  If you are interested, go ahead and take a look. :)

And now… well, I think I’m going to go ahead and end this blog post for now, and I might go ahead and write another one for another time.  Perhaps one that doesn’t feel quite so jointed together.  Maybe even one on the writing process.  It’s been a while since I’ve done one of those, and I’ve started to have more success with SOTD again as well, so perhaps it’s time for me to dig through my notes and actually write something about writing again.  :D  We’ll see.

In the mean time, what are your thoughts on traditional publishing verses self publishing?  What do you think of Indie Presses like Marcher Lord Press, Splashdown Books, and Port Yonder Press?  What are your thoughts on Indie Authors who go it alone?  Are you for them?  Against them?  Why or why not?  Do you prefer E-books or physical books, and what are your thoughts on the way the publishing market of today is turning out? 

Let me know what you’re thinking.  I love to hear all the interesting things everybody has to say. ^_^

Goodbye for now, and happy writing!

 Nichole

It is Finally Finished

At the beginning of the fall semester last year, as I was just finishing Song of the Daystar and getting close to test time, I suddenly discovered the wonders of Adobe Photoshop.  Now, I know that Photoshop is ideal for editing and fixing photographs, but in the art world, it is also a major step towards digital painting.  I have recently been experimenting with digital painting.  It's not nearly as easy as most artists make it look.  But after a while I got the hang of it and started working on a project called "The 100 Theme Challenge".  (No, this was not my original idea.  I found it on Deviantart.)  The challenge is to create 100 pictures in any media that you want, in any order that you want to create them, based on the themes given to you.  Since I had been wanting to explore the world of digital painting, I decided to try and do most of my pictures in the computer.

Unfortunately, about half way through painting the picture, my computer did a nose dive and I had to replace it.  When I went to install Adobe to finish the painting, for some strange reason the software wouldn't install.

But this didn't deter me.  I had been hearing some good things about a freeware art program called "GIMP" that could be downloaded straight off the Internet.  I ran it through my school's security software before installing it on my computer.  To my great and ecstatic surprise, GIMP is actually a decent art program.  The majority of the picture was done in GIMP.

The first theme I decided to do was #92, "All I Have".  I apologize now that the colors seem a bit light.  After I finished the picture, I went to print it off at Wal-Mart and discovered that my new computer's Gamma must not be set correctly.  I'll have to go back in, re-set the gamma, and eventually adjust the color.  But until then, here it is.  If you click the image below, a bigger version will appear, and if you double click that version, an even bigger version will appear.  I strongly suggest looking at the biggest version.  I put a lot of work into this painting, but it's hard to see when the picture is so small.

Tagged! A day in the life of my room and Other Ramblings

Well, I had meant for this post to be a good one so I will try to be as posotive as I can be.  That said, today has turned out to be a real let down... and it's only 12:00 pm!

Why, do you ask, am I feeling so down in the dumps?  The answer is quite simple: I was fired this morning.

Yep, the ever dreaded "F" word of the Work Force woke me up this morning with a phone call, dragged me into work, and dropped that horrible, awful, hateful bomb.

FIRED.

But this was not supposed to be a post filled with melancholy and woe, and I can only hope that loosing this job means that God is opening another door for me... preferably one in a business that deals with publishing, books, and the wonderful world of the written word.

So, to comfort myself (and for your visual amusement) I have decided to post pictures of my bedroom.  Thankfully my room was clean (for once) when Jake tagged his followers to post candid pictures of their rooms.  I guess I was one of the lucky ones. :D

This first one is my bed, and the entrance to my bedroom.  Yes, that is a curtain over the door: my room is actually a converted attic and though the pictures make it look bigger, it is really, very small because the ceiling slants all the way down to the floor.  You might also be interested to know that I seem to have a love for Lions and Dragons.  The big stuffed lion was a gift for my birthday several years back: he was deemed "Aslan" soon after.  The little lion sitting next to him is "Little Aslan".  :)    The pillow on the floor is for my cat: he likes to come up and sleep on it.  I usually put the book I just finished reading on that pillow: this time it was "Auralia's Colors".  Oh, and that paper bag by the head of the bed in the first picture?  Books. :D

There's "Little Aslan" again.  And a Picture.  I have three pictures like this placed randomly throughout my bedroom.  This one says "Love" and the other two say "Peace" and "Faith".  My mom says she has another one that says "Hope" somewhere, but she would have to find it before I could use it in my decor.  And yes, those things around the pictures are just pillows.  I had no where else to put them because my bed is rather small.

This is my doll corner.  My mom collects China Dolls and my love of them stems from hers.  Some of the dolls were hers at one time, but she knew that I loved them so she gave them to me.  Others are dolls I fell in love with but didn't have money to buy and that people later bequeathed me as gifts.  I'm too old to play with them, but I love to display them.

There you are, the first real look at my room as a whole.  Now you can see what I mean when I say it is small.  As you can see, I love books.  Those too random wall piles are actually two book shelves filled to bursting.  There are also three more piles of books under my bed hidden under the comforter.  The big black thing in the front of the picture is my guitar case: my guitar isn't in it at the moment.  The other stringed instrument is an alpine dulcimer.  I can play it a little, but I prefer my guitar.  My desk was a Goodwill Find.  We call it my "Waltons' Desk" because in the old TV series, John boy had a desk like that.  (John boy was an aspiring author looking for publication too! :) ) 

Here's another look at it, only this time from the floor.  You can see yet another random pile of books in the lower right had corner.  You probably can't tell by now, but I LOVE to read!

There's my desk top.  The book in the lower right corner is "No Plot, No Problem".  I found it to be a major help.  Can you see my two daggers?  Maybe not.  They're kind of hard to pick out.  One is laying in front of the picture, the other is just above the leaf mat.  The picture has a saying on it that says "She watched a leaf fall from the sky and slowly felt her life falling into place... at last."  It touched me so I put it above my desk to continue inspiring me.  I think my aunt gave it to me.  She gave me the mug in the corner too: it was a souvenir from a renessance faire.

These two pictures are the tops of my bookshelf.  As you have probably noticed, I like the colors Red and Gold, and I also like leaves.  The picture behind the giant leaf bowl on my Bookshelf says "Reach for the Stars" and it has that saying also written in Chinese.  Leaning up against one of my lamps is a book that shows how to write Chinese words, and a bamboo paintbrush.  I made the runner.  You might not be able to tell, but it is Crazy Patch and it was made out of purple, crimson, black, and gold velvet.  It was no easy task to piece it together straight, let me tell you!

My smaller bookshelf.  As you can see, it's so full that the shelves are starting to bend.  I really need to fix that, but I'm not sure how. 

Another picture of my big bookshelf and my desk.

My bed buddies: a red bear that my mom found at a second hand shop, and my stuffed dragon named Torch.  As you can see, I'm reading Cynder's Midnight by Jeffery Overstreet.  I've read Auralia's colors too and will be posting a review on it soon.  The pillow is a Crazy Patch piece I was working on for my mom.  It's not quite done as I hadn't finished the beaded fringe around the edges, which explains the white string draping across the pillow.  lol*  I didn't see the string when I was taking the picture.  The folded blanket has more leaves on it.  :)

That's the wall hanging that hangs above my bed, yet another Crazy Patch piece that I worked on.  The "N's" stand for Nichole.  My Grandma taught me and my siblings how to make them.  Her own Crazy Patch works are just absolutely amazing!  And, of course, her stitching is much neater than mine.  I love my Grandma so much!!!

Another Lion.  When I saw this plaque, I was reminded of the scene in  "The Voyage on the Dawn Treader" where Caspian is telling Lucy and Edmund how the Lion Plaque above his door came to life and spoke with him.  That's why I hung it above my bed.

 My night stand, with my alarm clock, my reading lamp, and my three guardian angels standing in the background. 

Yet another pile of random books.

There's my Guitar.  I had it out of its case and on my bed because I was working on a song when I decided to drop everything and take these pictures.  :D

And last but not least, a final look at my room.  It's small, but I do love it.

And now I'm glad I decided to post these pictures.  It has made me feel much better about the nasty morning I had.  I hope the rest of the day goes well. 

I'll be posting a review on "Auralia's Colors" soon, so keep checking in.  In the meantime, I'm going to follow Jake's example and Tag all of my followers!  This should be interesting... very interesting indeed!

Why I Write What I Do

It's a really big question when you think about it:

"Why do you write the way you do, in the genre that you do?"

If I were to answer that question off-hand, I'd probably just say, "Because it's a part of who I am."  And it is; oh, it is!  It is so much a part of me that I don't even think about it any more.  But if I were to break it down?  If I were to really take that question apart, think about it, muse over it while savoring every word and wondering what it means to me deep down?  What would I answer then?

Most of you know that I love fantasy.  I do.  I love it.  And I know a lot of writers who also enjoy fantasy (and science fiction, and a load full of other genres).  Because I love this genre so much, my writings tend to be based in this genre, and if I were to ask such a question to a writer who's genre was horror or mystery, the answer would be worlds different.

As a fantasy writer asking myself this question, I don't have to look far to find my answer: it just takes a little time.

I write fantasy because it is the genre that I feel the most free in.  Not only free in writing it, but free in reading it as well.  Fantasy is the singular genre where there are no pre-assumptions attached. 

Right about now the Science Fiction Lovers are going to pop in and start hitting me with their keyboards and paperback books (paperbacks because hopefully they aren't aiming to kill me...  and if you are aiming to kill me, please get it over with quickly and as painlessly as possible.

Anyone grabbing at their bookshelves to chuck their latest find at my head?

No?

Good!  *phew!*)

But I'm totally serious here.

Romance books are expected to have romance in them.

Horror must be scary.

Mystery has to have a secret or an question that just must be answered.

Even in Science Fiction a reader usually assumes it has something to do with space, or at least technology, and there is almost always an explanation for anything supernatural.

But with fantasy there are no such pre-assumptions.  A fantasy book can easily tie together romance, horror, mystery, and technology all in one book and in no particular order... and you never know if the next book you read in the genre will be similar or different by a thousand worlds.

As a writer, I like that.  In fact, I like it a lot.  If I sit down to write fantasy, I don't have to know exactly where the story is set or how it will end.  I don't have to have a certain element in it that makes it the genre that it is (although most people believe that there must be some form of magic in the book to make it fantasy... which isn't necessarily true.)  I don't even have to have done any research, or be any smarter than the average Joe working two part time jobs to make a living... I just have to write.

And my story can take me anywhere!

Now, if you write or read some other genre, know now that I am not trying to convert you!  The most important thing is that you write the genre that fits you best... the genre that you feel "free" in.

That is why I write what I write.  (That, and a complicated childhood back story.  :D)

And in honor of my favorite genre and my love for writing it, here's an excerpt from the novel I started for Nanowrimo last year.  It's from chapter 12 titled "Voices in the Trees".  It's still pretty rough, but it's also one of my favorite scenes
***

Ganeff turned another corner, paused, and glanced around. His fingers moved nervously up and down the haft of his bow as he glanced from tree to tree.



What is going on here? he wondered to himself. This has never happened before.


He glanced behind him, then ahead again, and then from side to side.  It was no use: everything looked the same.


Lost?


The word floated skeptically through his mind. From his first lone romp into the woods to his final mission as an apprentice pickpocket, he’d never gotten lost in Rover’s Wood; never! But then again, he’d swear he’d never even seen this part of the wood before, let alone stepped foot in it.


Perhaps if I turn around, I can track my own footsteps and they will lead me out again. But upon turning, he discovered that his footprints were not there. Dead vegetation covered the dear trail he’d followed, and it looked like it hadn’t been disturbed in ages. The trail itself was gone as though the bushes had picked themselves up and moved to cover his only known way back.

Something shimmered in the corner of his eye and then was gone. He spun quickly, searching for the light. There it was again, but coming from a different direction. And again… only that time it was a different color.


Ganaff fingered the string of his bow, his free hand already slipping to the quiver at his side. What sort of devilry is this? He wondered.


There again! The light flashed and then was gone, green this time. Then again, a purplish hue. But now when he looked around he noticed that it was not just one light; thousands upon thousands of them flashed around the trees, up in the foliage and through the underbrush, blinking different colors into existence before vanishing once more. The forest was alive with them.


Only once before had Ganeff seen such a spectacle, when he and Aura had been sent to Thatcher’s Corner to investigate the rumors of ghost lights spreading throughout the forest’s inhabitants. Weapons had seemed useless against the lights then. He let his finger slowly brush by the lip of his quiver and back to his side.


A soft breeze flitted through the trees like a quiet ripple of laughter.


Come and catch me if you can!


Ganeff started at the voice, spinning around to see the speaker. There was no one there; just the lights and the laughing wind.


Come and play, Ganeff! You’re it! Try to catch me!


A few yards ahead of him, between the gaps of two tall maples, a swirl of golden light transformed itself into a hand. It beckoned towards him with long, elegant fingers before shattering into a thousand pieces and darting away among the shadows.


Ganeff ventured a step forward. A breeze rattled the branches of the trees as the laughter rippled through the air again.


Come and play with me!


“I’m coming,” Ganeff called to the empty air, and pushed his way through some thorny brambles to the place where the hand had been. Perhaps following the lights wasn’t the very best idea he had, but it was better than being totally and completely disoriented among trees that he’d never seen before.


“I’m going to catch you!”

The words seemed silly to him, but he could think of nothing else to say. Another wave of childish laughter ran through the trees. A few yards farther along, the lights converged again and another hand waved towards him before vanishing.


Ganeff chased after them, twisting and turning through the underbrush to follow the elusive lights as they darted every which way through the trees. Every few minutes another hand would appear; the trees’ laughter grew with each step forward until the whisper had become a voice, and the voice had become a song, and the song urged him forward with each step. The words of the song were strange to him, sung by a sweet childish voice. There seemed to be no particular melody to it, but the nonsense lyrics conjured pictures in his mind until he was almost sure he could understand the words.


Shuttle and loom go ‘clickle, clack'
Sting runs through and is pushed back
Patience is a virtue learned
Young fingers spin the wheel a turn
Round it goes, and round again
Each rotation one year’s end
‘Til Hair once dark is silver spun
Upon a wheel where stories run
String that ages, string that binds
String that frees the caged mind
In and out she weaves the years
Silent silver fall her tears
Ancient loom to be her cage
Ties the artist in her age
Bound eternity to spin
Weaving lives she can’t be in
Until one rises to take her place
Before the world should fall to waste


A life of stories, none the same
A work she loves, but cannot claim
A thousand years, or maybe more
Before a girl will come to her
A girl as ignorant as a child
Though fire hides within her, wild
Sit her down; the loom will tame her
Fate has come: the Tale has claimed her
Old one, teach her how to weave
New tapestries before you leave
An oracle whose gift once hidden
Comes to light before it’s bidden
Weave anew the fraying threads
Before dark might brings all to end


Suddenly the music stopped and, as if coming out of a trance, Ganeff looked about him. He was standing at the edge of a clearing. The colorful lights darted back and forth over the grasses, disappearing momentarily, reappearing the next minute.


Have you come then?  The voice was soft as if the very wind had breathed the words. Have you come to play?


“I have.”


The trees rustled with the laughing breeze as the lights dashed into the middle of the clearing, their many colors flushing gold. A woman’s voice trilled a rapid scale of notes, both terrifying and lilting at the same time. Ganeff let his fingers drift towards the hilt of his throwing knife, gulping back the terror he could feel welling up in his chest. He went to take a step back, but found that his feet were frozen in place; he couldn’t move!


The lights converged in the very center, drifting in a long, lazy spiral around the space where the strange voice seemed to come from. The voice grew louder, joined by another: a man’s this time. Their song filled the clearing with a strangely beautiful yet dissonant harmony the likes of which Ganeff had never heard uttered from the throat of any bard before. As the notes of the song escalated, the golden spiral spun faster and faster, swirling in patterns of wild abandoned, growing tighter the faster they spun until there was no space left between one line of gold and the next. Their brilliance became unbearable to look at. Ganeff squinted his eyes to try and shut out some of the light, but found he couldn’t close them completely. He had no control over them; they simply would not obey him!


Suddenly the light burst into a thousand starry pieces and Ganeff felt like the blunt end of a stick had been thrust into his stomach. He doubled over, lifting his head to squint through the haze of drifting light. A tall man and woman stepped out of the air and glanced around. The woman’s mouth was opened in song. Her voice seemed to give life to sapphire swirls of light which floated from her lips and away into the trees. The man held her hand gently, as if it were made of glass and could break in an instant; his lips were closed, but a haunting harmony still drifted from his throat; Ganeff could see it. The lines of harmony were a rich and vibrant purple. Shimmering gold lights flickered in the purple haze like the notes on a music staff.


But as strange as the colorful haze of music seemed drifting from their lips like living beasts, what seemed an even stranger sight were the set of massive wings flowering out from the two being’s backs, towering above their heads like giant and beautiful guardians: the man’s wings were the color of ink and smoke with veins of red as bright as newly spilt blood tracing their way from tip to tip; the woman’s wings were a deep sapphire, gilded with patches of gold and with veins of silver filigree swirling through the blue in intricate patterns. She glanced over her shoulder, fluttered them twice, and smiled. As the music faded away, she turned her smile on her escort.


“You were right, Creon; it does feel good to have my feet planted in the rich soil of this earth again. I had nearly forgotten how the full the air seems of song and life.”


The man called Creon nodded, glancing around the clearing. “Yes, the Tale has favor on the beings of this land. But try to remember, my dear, that we are here for a purpose that must be fulfilled ere we return to your kingdom, and we must not overstay our welcome.” His eyes finally sought out Ganeff standing in the shadows on the edge of the trees. “Ah. There he is. Just as you foretold.” He broke his grip on the woman’s hand and walked towards the boy. As he walked, his feet barely seemed to touch the ground.


“There is who, my love?” asked the woman. It took her a few minutes longer before her eyes finally settled on Ganeff. She looked him up and down, as if uncertain about something. Her pale blue eyes became worried. “Are you sure, dear? He looks so slight, as if he is only half shadow himself: unsubstantial like a Breeze Daughter. I do not doubt a single blow from your lips would knock him to the ground twice his own length from where he stands.”


Creon glanced over his shoulder, something between a smile and a sneer working the corners of his mouth. “He is slight indeed,” he said, “but do not be fooled by him; the Tale has granted the inhabitants of this world the gift of endurance, and of the Tale’s other gifts, frailty is not among them.”


Ganeff opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a single word, Creon waved his speech away. “Be still, Earth Child. We are granted but little time to speak with you, and there is much to be said. But first, answer me this: are you the guardian of Aura, Light Spinner?”


“Who?”


“You see?” said the woman, gliding towards them. “He is dazed; our words do not make sense to him.”


Ganeff drew himself taller. “I understand you,” he said, “but I don’t know who you’re talking about. The Aura I know is a spinner of nothing unless it is a story of questionable origin. I don’t know what a light spinner is.”


The woman chuckled lightly, pale white hands flying to her lips to modestly hide her mirth. “Perhaps you are right my dear,” she said to Creon. “He is not as fragile as he looks: it would seem his substance lies in a sharp tongue rather than in his body.”


Creon frowned. “My dear, you are insulting him.” Then to Ganeff, “Come and join us.”


Ganeff didn’t have much choice. The tall man grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out into the open before he could say a word. With a wave of his hand, thousands of colorful flickers danced around Creon’s palm. He studied them for a few minutes before shoeing them away. Unabashed by the dismissive gesture, the lights converged several feet away into two separate spirals: when they broke apart again, two thrones sat in the middle of the clearing, one silver set with onyx and ruby, the other gold set with sapphire and diamond. The lady made her way over to her throne and sat in it, bouncing slightly in her seat as though she were a child.


Creon stopped Ganeff in front of the thrones. “Stay here,” he ordered before walking over to the silver throne. The lady straightened herself as he approached. At a nod from him, she flicked her wrist and white staff appeared in her hands. Ganeff tried to hide his surprise, though he was sure they could see it reflected in his eyes. The lady waved the staff over a pile of leaves that stood beside her thrown.


Ganeff blinked, then blinked again. Was his mind playing tricks on him? He closed his eyes and shook his head, but when he opened them again, he could not deny the fact. Where, a moment before, nothing had stood, now a golden loom was slowly fading into view. Before it was even complete, the lady picked up the shuttle and began gently sliding it between the warp and weft threads.


Clickle, clack. Clickle, clickle, clack.


Her fingers moved so swiftly through the strings, that they shimmered as they moved. A tapestry was slowly being built, but Ganeff couldn’t quite make out the picture just yet.


Creon nodded to the lady but then turned to Ganeff.


“Young man, do you know why you stand before us today in the presence of both Fae and Faeling?”


Ganeff shook his head, his curly hair tumbling down into his eyes. His knife and bow, long forgotten, hung limp in his fingers. “I became lost,” he answered simply.


“Lost, yes!” sang out the lady. “Lost among tree shadows. Lost while searching for something… while searching for a friend. This is true, is it not?” Her fingers flew over the loom.


Clickle, clack. Clickle, clack.


“I was looking for Aura.”


“Aura.” Creon’s eyes were trained on him. “The girl who is the key to everything. The girl who could change the world forever… or break it on a whim.”


“I’m not sure we’re talking about the same…”


“But we are,” Creon interrupted. “Your friend, the Light Spinner."  At Ganeff's questioning gaze, Creon sighed impatiently.  "You say she has a gift for telling stories. Do you know why she is so gifted?”


This time Ganeff didn’t move, waiting for the answer to come to him instead. He’d made a fool enough of himself to answer right away.


As the lady spun, she began to sing:


Little girl whose gifts are hidden
Child of light, whose flame is cloaked
Stories spill from you unbidden
Mischief by your heart is stoked
You who wander field and water
Hide your talent by a mask
For all know the Rover’s daughter
Mustn’t find her father’s past

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ganeff asked. “The only gift that Aura has is an overactive imagination that keeps getting her into trouble. That’s why I’m out looking for her… and what does Rogue Quince have to hide?”


But the lady just laughed and continued to weave.


Seek the Spinner, seek and find her
Guardian of half-wove dreams
She is with those who would mind her
Teaching her the way of things
Heed my song, ye brave young warrior
Lest thy heart is clove in twain
For Aura’s life is bound by thread now
Never to be freed again.


Life is light, and she the Spinner
Stories roll from off each finger


Wove in chord, in string, in thread
That cannot be undone again


The pen is mightier than the sword
The Tale has penned its lasting word.


Ganeff scowled. “Why do you speak only in riddles?” he demanded. “Are you trying to confuse me with your worthless songs? You have told me nothing.”


“Be still.” Creon commanded. “The Lady’s song is prophetic; you would be wise to heed her words, even if you lack the understanding of them.” He waved a hand and flickers of light immediately darted to it. He held it out for Ganeff to see. “Do you recognize her?”


Ganeff leaned closer to see it better. In the middle of the ball of light, there was a face. He recognized it at once.


“That’s Aura!” he shouted but Creon shook his head.


“It is not,” the Fae Lord said. “Look again.”


Ganeff peered at the picture again. It was Aura; he could recognize her face anywhere, but…


Something was slightly wrong with this picture, though the differences were so subtle that he hardly noticed at first. In this picture, the face looked older, more mature than Aura’s did. On yet a third glance he realized that it wasn’t Aura at all. The person in the picture had lips the perfect color and shape of a rose bud, and her thick hair was almost black rather than just dark brown, falling over her shoulder in curly torrents: Aura’s hair was straight.


And her eyes… the lady’s eyes were the most captivating part of the picture. Aura’s eyes were strange and beautiful, but they almost seemed dull in comparison with these. The eyes in the picture weren’t dark brown like so many other rovers’ eyes; they weren’t the color of emeralds, like the gypsy rovers from the north, nor were they the flashing brilliant blue color that made Aura’s eyes so mysterious. These eyes were Violet, a purple so pure that it was its own primary color. And deep within the purple irises, flecks of gold gilded the rims like fireflies caught in a net.


Ganeff had only seen a picture like this once before, and then, too, he had at first mistaken the girl for Aura. But he’d soon learned the truth.


“Th-that’s Aura’s Mother,” he stammered.

Happiness 101

A couple weeks back “The Pen and Parchment” was awarded the “Happiness 101” award by Brad. Thank you Brad! I’m so glad you like it! Anyway, with this award I’m supposed to list ten things that make me happy and then pass the award along. So here we go.


1) Writing. Yep, you guessed it. After all, why would I name my blog “The Pen and Parchment” if I didn’t enjoy writing? Writing has always been a way for me to express myself, whether it’s in poetry, song lyrics, short stories, or novels. I’ve found both escape and comfort in the words that drift through my head and down to my fingers, and from there onto the page. Writing will always be one of the most significant things in my life that makes me happy.



2) Reading. Well, it makes sense doesn’t it? Reading and writing just sort of walk hand in hand. You almost can’t have one without the other… almost. I’ve always enjoyed reading since I was a little girl. Books have provided a way for me to see into some amazing worlds that have always been there, but that others just don’t want to see (if that makes sense). They have provided me with escapes, with adventure, with mystery, and even with love. I will enjoy reading a good book until the day I die… and maybe after. (you never know! Maybe God has books in heaven too! :D)



3) Drawing. Yes, I am an artist. I love to sketch out pictures of what my characters look like as I see them in my head. The problem is, I have to be inspired to draw something well; if I’m not… well, let’s just say it’s not that pretty. But, when I am inspired, I feel like I can draw anything! Art is a way to make the fantasy I read and write about become visual for others to enjoy as well. And sometimes the picture doesn’t always turn out the way I thought it would in my head (just like when I’m writing a story) so it’s always an interesting process.



4) Music. Kinda makes sense, though, doesn’t it? I mean, writing, reading, music, and art all walk hand in hand after all. But honestly, who doesn’t enjoy listening to music? I find my inspiration is best stirred when I listen to Celtic or Folk music, although I enjoy Country every now and again, and I also like Contemporary Christian. Recently I was introduced to the Filk genre; now that is an interesting genre, let me tell you! It’s a type of music based off of books or movies that inspired the artist. I guess that means you could call “May it Be” written by Enya for LOTR Filk. Who’da’thunk! But I also enjoy playing guitar and writing the lyrics to my own songs.



5) Jesus. I guess He should have been at the very top of my list huh? But I’m just writing these things down as they come to my head, so just know what He’s my #1. Without him I couldn’t do any of the things I do today, be any of the things I am, or become any of the things I will be. He is my #1 inspiration, my #1 joy, and my #1 love. Shoot! He’s my #1 period! In Him do I find solace when the world seems in turmoil. I know that He will never forsake me… never.



6) My family. I love them all so much! However, when you’re the oldest of six children, you’ve got to expect a bit of a love-hate relationship with some of your brothers and sisters. *roguish grin* But even with all the trouble they’ve caused me, and all the times I’ve wished I was an only child, and all the times that I’ve… *clears throat* well, yeah… you get the picture. Even with all that, I still love them so much!



7) Ok, now it’s getting tougher. For the 7th thing that makes me happy, I’ll have to choose… my friends. I have some really amazing ones. I don’t always let them know that I appreciate them as much as I do, but I hope that they know it anyway. Thanks guys!



8) Blogging. I know, this one probably should be under “writing”, but I think I’ll just keep it the way it is. I have discovered since starting “The Pen and Parchment” in April that I really enjoy blogging! Like, seriously! In fact, some people might call me addicted. I’m not sure if I really am, but I do enjoy it a lot.



9) Bookstores. Bookstores make me very happy! Of course, this might fit under “Reading” just as well as blogging fit under “Writing” but I’m just gonna keep them separate. I tell you, I just LOVE stepping into a B&B or a Border’s store. There’s something about a bookstore that just gets me so excited. (It’s probably all those amazing books on the shelves… go figure!)



10) My room. I love it. I really do. You see, I only just got it remodeled before last semester started. It was the first time I’d ever seen my room decorated just the way I wanted it. Granted, it’s a mess again, but still. “Messy” is the constant state of my room but “disorganized”? Never. I still know just where everything is… oh wait. Where did that pencil disappear to? *grin*



So, there they are: the ten things that make me happy. I know there are more, and maybe some of these seem trivial, but they’re not to me.

Here are the people I’m going to give the “Happiness 101” award to.

Nathan Bradsford: For all the amazing advice he gives out about writing and the publishing world. I have found so many helpful tips on his blog, it’s not even funny! Since I started following him, I’ve seen my writing take a turn for the better. (And he’s a literary Agent open for queries! How cool is that, right?)

Dancing-with-dragons-is-hard-on-your-shoes: I just recently started following this blog, but I was caught immediately by the author’s funny yet sincere voice. And she has a book supposed to be published soon. I’ll be sure to check it out.

Lydia Sharp: Some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten (writing wise) was handed out by her on the WD forum. She’s also an amazing writer and her blog is very insightful. Check it out here(link) if you haven’t already. :)

BrandiG: Another amazing writer with an amazing blog! Once again, I met her on the forums at WD. She’s got a very colorful way with words and the pictures she creates with them are just phenomenal!

Squeaks: I follow this blog regularly. The posts are usually thought provoking at the least… out right inspiring at best. Check it out! :)

Brad: Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog and I hope it’s as fun to read as I find yours to be!

I have a whole bunch more, but I think I’m just going to pause for awhile. If you would like this award, just go ahead and take it. I hope it makes you smile like it did for me as I wrote this! :)  I will be posting links to the names I have awarded this to in the near future!  :D

The Artist and the Writer

This is a subject that doesn’t get addressed often enough, I think. I mean, give me a show of hands, how many of you writers out there believe you have some talent in visual arts? Visual being the key word in this instance, not literal.  Maybe some of you do, and that's great!  *thumbs up*

From what I’ve heard tell, though, there are a lot of writers out there who believe they are also amazing artists. Don’t get me wrong! They are artists in the craft of words… but sometimes – sometimes they’re not so great with a pencil and a sketchpad.

On the other hand, there are artists out there who think they are also writers. (Believe me, I know a few). They are so sure they can capture with words what they capture with paint when, more than half of the time, it just isn’t so.

And yet once more, there are those few people who really are talented in both areas. They’re very rare, it would seem… and yet they're not quite as rare as many think. In fact, if anyone reading this has a Deviant Art account, or would just like to browse the site, they might find several talented artists who are also talented writers and vise versa.

I guess it all depends on who you think you really are. If you really believe you are both, then what’s stopping you from being both? So you struggle with the visual aspect of art: take a few art classes, learn some stuff, keep practicing. You’ll get it. So you have trouble fitting words, sentences, and paragraphs together in a smooth flow; take some writing classes, go on line, read, study… it’s not like rocket science. Really anyone can learn to do these things! And when I say anyone, I mean anyone.  It just takes practice, as every action or talant does.

And of course there are those writers/artists who can do miracles with photo editing! (I’m still a baby in that area.)


Me though? I actually fall into the category of both. Yes, I’m a writer and an artist. And also a musician. Those are my three strengths. Some people are like that too (especially if they’ve been playing an instrument since they were young – which I actually haven’t had the pleasure of doing... just since I was 14.)


What? Don’t believe me? Here, I’ll give you a few examples of my artwork:

These are just a few of my favorite pieces (I have more faves, but I thought this post might get too long, so I decided not to post them yet.)
 
So what are your tallants?  Share them with me!  It be awesome to hear about them.  :)