Motivations and Distractions

I have a lot of hobbies beyond my writing. My family and friends joke about it. And I sometimes feel as though I might have too many myself. But I have a curious and adventurous spirit. And I can't help myself!

As but a sample of the gear I've acquired for exploring the outdoors I have kayaks for nearly every member of my family, two canoes, a stand-up paddleboard, a full set of SCUBA equipment, snowshoes, and hiking and camping gear sufficient to fit out a small summer camp! (And that is by no means a complete list!) In previous posts I've talked about the fact that my writing is heavily inspired by nature. Even a walk on the trail behind my house refuels my imagination. Watching a goshawk streak after its prey into a stand of pines. Finding a set of tracks that seem too big to have been made by a dog. Was it a bear? A bobcat? Or just admiring what the changes in season reveal. Moss covered streambeds. Mottled bark and hollow trees. Exotic mushrooms sprouting up after a rain. And the anticipation of the first green shoots of spring. So much to inspire!

As far as working with my hands is concerned, I have been a home brewer and mead maker since 1994. I love to cook and to experiment with different foods and spices. I enjoy making bread by hand. And I also like to create things of a more permanent nature. I took a welding course at a local vocational school and built my own coal forge. I have all sorts of woodworking tools and equipment which have served as strong inspiration for Breeden's magical talents! (Along with my father and maternal grandfather having been involved in the businesses of boat and ship building respectively!)

Then there are the ways that nature and crafting come together. I love to create hardscapes on my property that work with nature rather than ignoring it or working against it. My boys and I dug a firepit into a hilltop that evokes a sacred space that might have been made by druids in the iron age. I've placed stone steps in different spots throughout my woods that follow the natural contour of the landscape. And I built a minimalist tree deck that blends into the background and overlooks the wetlands adjacent to my house.

My next investment in the area of crafting is going to be a five-burner gas forge so I can try my hand at some of the more demanding forging that I have thus far avoided attempting with my coal-fired forge. (Can you say hand-crafted swords?) But I've made a promise to myself that I will not buy the forge until book three is published! Because while I do get a great deal of motivation from working with my hands and creating things that only ever existed before in my imagination, I also want to wrap up the trilogy and bring home the tale that started with Breeden hauling in those herring as the sun rose on that spring morning so long ago.

Okay. That's all for now. Until next time . . . Thank you for reading!

The Software Tools I Use to Write

I discovered Scrivener and Vellum (discussed below) through Mark Dawson’s Self Publishing Formula. If you are a writer, or an aspiring writer, and you don’t know about the SPF community . . . I highly encourage you to check it out! But I found my way to these other tools on my own. So I thought I would share the bounty with anyone checking out my blog!

The first piece of software I use is called "Plottr". I only started using it recently, for my forthcoming third (and final) book in the trilogy that began with The Crafter's Son. But I'm already in love with it! It is a very visual program that lets me build out multiple plot lines, assign characters and locations to the scenes I place on those timelines, and then drag and drop the scenes around, as needed. I can filter the view so it only shows me the scenes with a given character present, or scenes in a given location. Etc. In short, it's a highly flexible--if fairly simple--tool for managing a story that has multiple plot lines with an epic scope like The Ranger King! And I very much look forward to using it for future books down the road!

Next up is Scrivener. Scrivener is a word processor that is designed to give an author the multi-chapter support they need to easily "chunk up" their writing in a way that is both self-contained within a single project file, and also separate enough that it lets you visually jump from chapter to chapter and scene to scene as needed. (Contrast with MS Word, for example, which requires you to either split up your work into multiple documents or deal with a single monstrosity of a document that can become unwieldy at novel lengths.) On its own, Scrivener can do it all, and has many of the basic functions that Plottr gives you, albeit in somewhat less elegant and functional ways. And it can even output your document to an ePub or print format, too (like Vellum below)! If you are just getting started with writing novels or other long-form works (e.g., non-fiction), Scrivener is a great place to start.

There are many, many editing tools out there, from Grammarly to ProWritingAid--to the integrated grammar and spellchecking functions of MS Word. I've evaluated a number of them. And my new streamlined process for performing ongoing editing during the drafting process is to use MS Word's built-in checker and ProWritingAid. Ultimately, from my evaluations, the main area where ProWritingAid distinguishes itself from Grammarly is that it caters to authors in a way that Grammarly does not. Grammarly is great for everyday writing and business writing, but it lacks some of the nuance or targeted feedback ProWritingAid provides that is especially helpful to novel writers.

Before we move on to document formatting, I should also mention that my final edit, before I publish, is always performed by a human being! I found my editor (who has, thus far, edited both of my full-length novels as well as my two novellas) on Reedsy--an online author's marketplace--where you could also find someone to produce cover art for you, perform translations, help you with marketing, etc.! But, as for my editor, she is fantastic (send me a note if you want her name/info). And I would never trust myself, or any automated tool or software program, to provide the level of feedback about my writing that an experienced editor like mine can provide!

Finally, there is Vellum. Vellum is a program that specializes in helping you to create beautiful books. It won't help you create the cover art. But it will help you do everything else you need to format your book with beautiful, readable fonts, chapter headings, tables of contents, etc. Again, Scrivener can do most of this too. But Vellum just takes it to the next level--and has some very nice features that Scrivener lacks. One caveat, however: Vellum is only available for Mac--not Windows PCs!

For the active writers among you, I hope you found this list helpful. If you have discovered other tools that you love, or find invaluable, I encourage you to reach out and tell me about them! And, for everyone else, I hope you enjoyed a little visibility into my process!

That’s all for now. Thank you for reading!

My favorite fantasy authors (and why I love them)

Patrick Rothfuss - An extremely talented writer, first and foremost. With refreshing prose that doesn’t resort to shortcuts or dip too deeply in the well of genre stereotype. The Kingkiller Chronicle’s take on fantasy is decidedly non-derivative. I especially love the scenes where Kvothe is playing music! If Rothfuss can close the deal with book three, he may go down as one of the all-time greats. But for now, he is merely GREAT!

Brandon Sanderson - Just enough of the familiar trappings a fantasy reader is looking for, with twists that make his world- and magical system-building unique and special. Mistborn—magic fueled by the consumption of metal! Stormlight Archive—magic powered by the mysterious phenomenon of an energy-storm that regularly passes across the land. And characters that are generally interesting and distinctive enough that you can keep them straight in your head—despite any shifts in point of view.

George R. R. Martin - He writes gritty and grown-up stories. Perhaps he leans a bit dark, thematically. But then, there is a place for that on my nightstand, too. One cannot subsist on dessert alone, right? His prose is clean and enjoyable. And his stories are replete with the Medieval/Renaissance backdrop fantasy readers want. He is not so much revolutionary in his creativity when it comes to magical systems or creatures. But he is a tapestry-weaver of human conflict on a scale that brings to mind writers like Tolstoy.

Terry Brooks - The first three Shannara books are so good. They still rank among my favorites in the genre. A tattered copy of The Sword of Shannara has been handed down and around in my family for years. At one point, it was replaced. And the second copy is now equally tattered. First and foremost it’s the characters. And not just the tier one characters. Even the secondary/supporting characters are wonderful. Panamon Creel. Balinor Buckhannah, Menion Leah, Keltset, Hendel! Next are the settings and descriptions. Brooks includes an abundance of detail about the world around these characters but stops short of being Dickensian. And finally, his plots always start out appearing as straightforward contests between good and evil. But Brooks adds enough internal dialogue, doubt, and depth of characters, that things rarely turn out to be too black and white. Finally . . . ELFSTONES!

Stephen R. Donaldson - His works are not easy. His prose is dense. And his stories require commitment and endurance. Add to that the fact that his anti-hero protagonist, Thomas Covenant, is a horrible person on many levels. So why read them? Because nestled inside his morally challenging, sometimes ponderous storylines are moments of exultation. And some true heroes, to provide even more contrast with the questionably motivated Covenant: Bannor of The Blood Guard. Saltheart Foamfollower. Even Vain! Donaldson’s tales are ultimately not for the faint of heart. But his stories will challenge you if you are willing to expend the emotional energy to work through them.

Piers Anthony - So prolific. So creative. A true visionary who is not afraid to run with his flights of fancy. From the Adept Series to Incarnations of Immortality, to his dabblings in SciFi (like the masterful post-apocalyptic Battle Circle). And, of course, there’s Xanth. I’ve read dozens of Anthony’s books. And they have opened my eyes to what is possible in SciFi and Fantasy tales. Based upon what I see in his writings alone, anything goes!

David Eddings - Pawn of Prophecy’s colorful characters are larger than life. Almost caricatures of archetypes, if you will. The bear. The weasel. The grouchy old man. The enigmatic wise woman. Layered on top of those figures are digestible plot lines. A wholesome underlying morality. And an immersion into a world of medieval trappings where the challenges of modern life are absent, and Garion’s choices feel uncomplicated.

Ursula LeGuin - She wrote clean and powerful stories. In contrast to the others on this list, hers were the most subtle. Her Earthsea books were light enough to be accessible to children. But they were also heavy with meaning. Parables, rather than the lavishly painted eddas and operas of some of these other writers. These were among the first fantasy books I ever read. And their approachability and her light touch served as a perfect entrée to the world of fantasy.

J.R.R. Tolkien - A lover of words and language. A sampler of culture and a builder of new worlds from old mythologies. An academic, but with a creator’s soul. Like so many of the others on this list, much of what he presents to his readers is not truly original. But what he shared in his stories has become an entire genre of writing that did not exist before he came along. Without him, there would have been no one to inspire the other works that have had such an influence on me. The fantasy genre he launched has been an escape and a sanctuary for me for most of my life. And for that, as much as for his own works themselves, I am forever grateful to Professor Tolkien.

Thanks for reading!

Character traits and personalities

I am sometimes asked if my characters are based on real people. For those who know me well, and travel in my circles, they might see someone they know in one of my characters. But the reality is, and this isn’t just a legal disclaimer, these characters come from my head!

Yes, sure, a given character might share some traits with “real” people walking about on our planet. But most similarities people notice are probably narrow rather than multi-dimensional—since I would likely sample only a single personality trait from a given person. Rather than try to base one of my characters on the heterogeneous complexity of a particular human from the real world, the “types” of personalities I’m exploring in my writing are more universal than specific. Archetypes, if you will, rather than attempted copies of real people!

For example, a wizard in Book Two seems incapable of grasping the fact that everyone else doesn’t know everything that he knows. As if the fact that he knows a particular thing should make that knowledge obvious to everyone. You may not have encountered people in your life like that . . . but I certainly have!

And then there are the visual inspirations. There is a man who takes my train—who is probably 6’ tall. But his face, hair, nose, beard, eyebrows and mustache . . . make him look like a classic Tolkienian dwarf! It is a perfect resemblance, in my mind. So much so that I think of him when I write about my dwarf characters!

As the post-pandemic “return to my day job” milestone approaches for me this fall, I will be taking the train into Boston again. I’ve lost touch with my dwarven-featured fellow passenger—and many of my other train acquaintances. But I look forward to seeing them again. And as much as there is some uncertainty around my new commuting routine, I do look forward to people watching, and the inspiration I’ve always taken from it!

Trees

Among the elves, and within the ethos they pass down to their human adherents among the Fardach Sidhe, trees are considered sacred. The egalitarian elves might not wish to admit as much, but trees are elevated even higher than animals and other plants. Trees are nearly the equal, in their most sacred teachings, of the rocks and soil of Erda itself.

The reasons for this worship of, and affinity with trees, need not be captured in words and written down for the elves to understand. Trees are of Erda. Connected deeply to the soil through their roots, they draw from Erda’s sustaining essence. The tallest trees also reach upward to the sky, far above the heads of man and elf. They therefore serve as a bridge between the tangible world of our daily existence and the spiritual world beyond us.

There are uncountable varieties of trees—beyond the ken of most humans. Even as the elves would acknowledge that there are greater and lesser creatures of the wood, from the hart to the vole, there are also trees of differing stature. Some trees have the bearing of owls and project a sense of wisdom. Other, fast-growing, shrub-like trees bring to mind mice. In the darkest depths of the most ancient forests, there are even trees that seem to lie in wait like wolves or weasels.

But it is widely accepted that the noblest of all trees are those that comprise the elven city of Aoilfhionn. Taller than the highest cathedral tower built by man. The spread of each tree's branches as broad as a small city. And they are old. Tales of their green and grey bark exist from the personal retellings of Mirren, as he described his first days on Erda, coming down from the mountains to discover what had lain hidden in the mist.

Before entering the forest surrounding Aoilfhionn, elves leave an offering of herbs for the sentinel trees which mark the edges of their territory. The herbs, which grow and die off in a single season, symbolize the transient. Just as even the long-lived elves exist for but a passing moment in the lifetime of Aoilfhionn's trees. The offering is an acknowledgment of the elves’ insignificance. An act of humbleness and respect. And a sacrifice made to the trees for their forbearance in permitting the elves to live among them.

Book Three of The Crafter Chronicles brings the reader back to Aoilfhionn. To the famed city-among-the-trees. Where we will soon learn the fate of your favorite characters.

That’s all for now. Thank you for reading!

Stoicism

I have a new (old) resource in my bag of tricks. To help me in my life and in my writing. It's Marcus Aurelius' Meditations. It's a fairly meaty little book. And, like another favorite book of mine that I see as its modern counterpart, The Four Agreements, by Don Miguel Ruiz, its material ranges from the pithy to the abstract.

In the case of Aurelius' Meditations, you can follow along as he explores ideas that are important to him. Testing them out in his journal. Trying to find universal truths among what are essentially stoic tenets. For Ruiz, he positions his work as having been derived from ancient Toltec wisdom.

If you are pained by external things, it is not they that disturb you, but your own judgment of them. And it is in your power to wipe out that judgment now.

In short . . . Aurelius reminds us that it's not the rock in your shoe, a late train, or a querulous family member who is causing you grief. It's your reaction to those external events. This is pretty heavy. But it ultimately lays at your feet the ability to choose how to respond to a given situation. Very similar to Ruiz's admonitions "Don't take anything personally" as well as "Don't make assumptions". Like Aurelius before him, Ruiz urges you to accept that the words and actions of others shouldn't affect you. He takes it to the extreme, "Even if someone got a gun and shot you . . . it was nothing personal." The point here is that you aren't responsible for the actions of others. So you shouldn't occupy your thoughts with them. In perhaps a more practical context for your daily life: don't assume you know the intentions of others, or carry someone else's baggage.

Marcus Aurelius believed that there was a universal morality, accessible within all cultures. And he continually stressed the importance of living a life of virtue.

Put an end once and for all to this discussion of what a good man should be, and be one.

Aurelius argues that when you act justly, and live honestly, you will carry no regrets. Similarly, Ruiz would say "Always do your best". He acknowledges that we all have moments of weakness and moments of strength. But he would also argue that making it a habit to do our best in every given moment will lead to a more fulfilling life, where we do not give ourselves, or others, any reason to judge us critically. Over time, our relative best will improve. And through regular practice we will become more consistently virtuous. 

Aurelius would say that pursuit of the truth is essential to living a just life.

If someone is able to show me that what I think or do is not right, I will happily change, for I seek the truth, by which no one was ever truly harmed. It is the person who continues in his self-deception and ignorance who is harmed.

Ruiz would say, "Be impeccable with your word." Only speak the truth. Your words are a manifestation of your intentions. So be sure that they represent your truth, what you stand for. Ruiz felt that this lesson was the most important of the agreements. Because it sets the stage for everything else in your life. If followed with rigor, a person of such integrity can live a life carrying no regrets.

These lessons, from authors writing thousands of years apart, carry many similar themes. That commonality supports Aurelius' notion of the universality of morality, and that they have survived so long demonstrates their inherent value. But these practices also require the work of a lifetime to achieve. When life is especially full of personal and professional responsibilities, many people seek escape in the latest episode of their shows on Netflix. I certainly do the same on many an evening. But I also fall back on reading works like Meditations, The Four Agreements--and others. And I urge you to do the same. Spend some time with a thoughtful and introspective book. Or perhaps write out your own thoughts in a journal. There's something more tangible about words on the written page. There's a reassuring permanence to them. Proof of that is the fact that I'm sharing the journal of a man written nearly 2,000 years ago with you right now. And his musings stand the test of time.

That’s all for now. Thanks for reading!

An Excerpt from the forthcoming novelette, The Lay of Legorel

Sunbeams filtered through the canopy. The air was warm and heavy with the rich smells of loam and vegetation. A fecund day! Legorel had to run at a jog to keep the bugs from biting. But it didn’t stop them from finding their way into his eyes—or his mouth when he forgot to breathe through his nose. He recalled the tale of the human who’d come down with a fever after falling into a swamp. He had lain in bed for a week, so the story went, until green things began to sprout from his nose and ears. He lived a few more days, they said, and then the swamp finally claimed him in his own bed.

But Legorel was too careful to stumble into quick mud. No self-respecting elf could live that down. Elves were born with woodcraft ingrained in their blood, right?

Legorel smiled. He was an able woodsman. But he was no scout. He preferred the bard’s lute to the hunter’s bow, and the poet’s quill to the soldier’s sword.

Despite the smells of damp earth, he was leagues from the the swamps of the Geornlice Delta, east of Shenn Frith. So he was in no danger of becoming fertilizer. He was here to visit one of his sweethearts!

Ysabella had lost her husband a year before to an accident while he was felling a tree. Unlike many of his people, or the Shenn Frith, Legorel was indulgent about humans harvesting trees. Or at least men like Ysabella’s late husband. He’d taken only the trees he needed. And he’d been selective in a way that reminded Legorel of the elven huntsmen culling the weakest harts from the forest to keep their line healthy.

Legorel had known the man before he’d died. And the man’s darling wife. After the woodsman had passed, Legorel had begun his courtship innocently enough. Checking on her to make sure she had everything she needed. Helping her with simple chores. Splitting wood and digging out a dried-up well. She had plied him with bread and sweet pies to thank him. Eventually, many months after her husband’s death, when he had run out of heavy work to do for her, she had asked for his help with her baking. He had never had to cook for himself before. But she was a frail thing. And kneading tired her out quickly. In little time he came to match her skills in the art of achieving a flaky crust! He smiled again. And he slowed his pace. He would reach her clearing soon.

Her late husband had chosen his spot well. Their cottage backed up against a ridge in the woods. He had dug a shallow cellar and built part of the home’s rear into the side of the hill. The earth surrounding half the building would keep it warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer. And it was only a short walk to a small brook nearby. Legorel followed the course of the water and its gentle murmur as he walked the last several yards before entering the clearing where Ysabella was trying to grow some vegetables. In the warmth of late summer, the small garden should have been lush and full. But there weren’t enough hours of sunlight here in the woods for her plants to flourish properly.

He’d put off telling her as much, but he feared she would not be able to manage this small plot in the woods for very long without her husband. Legorel’s efforts, such as they were, had been but a delaying action. He thought once again about suggesting she might move to a city, and find work that could sustain her better than her hopeless efforts here in the forest. She was a fine baker. Surely she could find work in the city.

He frowned. Perhaps better than the city, he thought she might be taken on at a country estate somewhere. That would suit her. He caught himself becoming saddened at the prospect. And he forced himself to smile as he approached her cottage.

Welcome Distractions

It happens fairly often. And I have learned to welcome the moments and just run with them. I'm talking about the disconnected thoughts that rise, unbidden, to my mind, while I am writing. In the early days when I was trying to establish momentum with my writing habits, these distractions would take me out of my groove. I'd be sitting down to work on a chapter involving the enigmatic Huntmaster Aelric and, instead, my musings about his background would spin me off in an unexpected direction. What kind of childhood did he have? What influence did his parents have upon him? What was it like to grow up as a half-elf, never feeling fully a part of either human or elf society?

Sometimes the answers to these questions just pop into my head, because I have a feeling for what the character's role will be in my stories. And what background would best explain their behavior and motivation. But sometimes the answers aren't easy. And they require a deeper dive into the character's background. So I can more completely explore the nuances of their individuality. What made them who they are. What made them act as they do.

Before I even sat down to write A Monk's Tale, I already had a very strong sense of who Cedric was. The adventures he'd had and the life he'd led before he came to Ridderzaal. So much so that the first draft took me maybe five days to write, start to finish. That said, even with Cedric--one of my more fully formed, if fairly complex, characters--the act of getting it all down in A Monk's Tale was immensely helpful in polishing book two and charting his path in book three.

The Lay of Legorel is a bit different. It's a story about Aelric's father, ostensibly. But, at its core, it is also my deepest dive into a back story on a character yet. It begins at a time before Aelric was even born. And it introduces you to his parents. It shows you a glimpse of their nature as they struggle with challenges as both individuals and as a couple. As such, it sets up the world in which Aelric is born and raised.

An added bonus for me (if not for the overly curious among you!) is that by taking this approach with Aelric's back story, it allows his inner voice and his own experiences to remain closed off from the reader. Yes, you will know more about where he came from. But you will still be left wanting more about the man himself. Every story needs a little mystery. Forgive me!

In my next newsletter (scheduled for May 14th!), look for an excerpt from my forthcoming novelette, The Lay of Legorel, to give you a taste of what I mean.

That’s all for now! Thanks for reading!

Food in my writing

Food doesn’t appear very often in The Crafter Chronicles. I put food elements in my stories somewhat sparingly. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love food! (Follow my Instagram account and you’ll see what I mean!)

But when I do include food in my writing, you can be sure it will be something memorable! Here are just a handful of moments in my stories where I’ve included mention of something special in the world of culinary excellence!

There’s a scene in A Monk’s Tale (this is not a spoiler) where Cedric and his companion, Ydenia, are enjoying an impromptu meal of fresh bread and mushrooms all toasted together over an open fire with melted cheese. That meal is an homage to a street vendor’s panini I had while walking alongside the Circus Maximus in Rome (not far from the Colosseum). The original sandwich from which I drew my inspiration was made with fresh sage and local mushrooms, along with a generous helping of fontina cheese. And butter. Butter to spare. It represents one of those foods and moments that together created a memory I will carry with me for the rest of my days!

If you’ve ever been to a really good Thai place and ordered their chicken or beef satay, you know that the art form can be elevated above the typical “catered” satay you may have had at a function—especially when served with a similarly exceptional peanut sauce. That’s not just Kestrel’s favorite food. It’s also one of mine!

In Book Three (ultra-mini-spoiler), there is a scene where a dwarf introduces Cedric to a new spirit the monk has never tried before. It is made from the berries of a local evergreen bush that grows on the side of the Dvargheim Mountains. For those who’ve been on my newsletter for a while, you may recognize Cedric’s “aha” moment when he first tastes the dwarven spirit as a parallel to the first time I tried Stonecutter gin!

All of this musing, of course, makes me wonder if there was a bakery somewhere in Birmingham where they made a godcake so etheric that it inspired Tolkien’s lembas bread!

That’s all for now! Thanks for reading!

The role of magic in my stories

Magic doesn’t dominate my plots.

It’s in there. And it plays a role. But it’s not some deus ex machina crutch in my stories. I’ve tried to create a magical “system” that is a believable extension of a realistic world much like ours.

I’ve heard from some people that they like the way I handle magic—because it makes my stories more accessible. But I’m sure that people who love wizards casting fireballs on every page are not my biggest fans.

So why do I employ magic at all? Why not just write more “mainstream” stories without all the magic?

I believe that magic fulfills something inside fans of fantasy-like me. (And SciFi people have their “future tech” fulfilling a similar role.)

So what is it that magic is fulfilling, exactly?

I think the answer is bound up in our beliefs. In our faith, or our search for enlightenment. In our desire to believe in something beyond our everyday experience. And, in the process, to escape.

Is attempting to escape a bad thing? Does it mean we are avoiding our “real life”? To hide away from our lives in the pages of a book? It certainly doesn’t have to.

Stories have been helping people to learn things about themselves, or how to cope with the real world, through the vicarious adventures we’ve experienced in their pages, for thousands of years. And even in the spoken word stories of pre-literate civilizations. Every bibliophile can relate to that. And anyone with a subscription to Netflix. No matter what their favorite genre or subject matter might be.

So what is it that makes us, we fans of fantasy writing, of Tolkien, Eddings, Sanderson, Rothfuss, and Jordan, love our fantastic tales of worlds where our earthly rules do not apply? Or at least, our rules cannot explain the whole picture?

Some people have posited that the reason we gravitate toward stories like The Lord of the Rings is because they paint a world in which good is clearly good and evil evil. A digestible and straightforward world that feels more comprehensible than our own. But what of Boromir and Gollum? Or, for fans of science fiction, what about Darth Vader? Not one of these characters is entirely good, nor entirely evil. There are innumerable other examples. Want a more current one? Consider many of the characters from Game of Thrones!

No, it’s not a simplified world we seek in reading science fiction and fantasy. I would suggest that a well-crafted fantasy tale includes much of the complexity we feel exists in our own lives. Deceit, shame, internal turmoil. Nobody wants to read about perfect people who live uncomplicated lives. That would be unbearable.

But magic . . . magic is something we don’t get to experience first-hand. We seek out magic because it is so far removed from our daily lives that it requires us to suspend our disbelief. Forces us to have faith in something beyond ourselves. Magic is a tool. That much is true. But, if used properly, it is not a crutch. But rather a vehicle to transport us to another world. A magic carpet, a starship, or a dragon . . . take your pick.

Nature in my writing

If you’ve read my stuff, I think you’ll agree that nature plays an important role in my stories. No matter where I go in my travels, I am regularly in awe of nature’s beauty and variety—and the lessons it has for us all. And if you follow me on Instagram, you’ll already know that nature photos take precedence even over those of food and drink! (Which is saying something!)

Sometimes it’s the landscape itself that grabs me. I’ve talked about the incredible valley in Wyoming that inspired Mikele’s grotto in The Queen & the Soldier. I will never forget the first time I witnessed the stunning rise of the Grand Tetons from the plains. Glacial lakes the color of the Caribbean Sea nestled among the Swiss Alps. The breathtaking heights of the fjords of Norway. The ancient and primitive landscapes of geysers and steam vents in both Yellowstone Park and parts of Iceland.

It’s often that the sky catches my attention. The colors, the presence or absence of clouds, rain, or snow. On the plains of the US, in Idaho, Kansas, or Montana, I can remember being struck by (thankfully brief) moments of an excruciating awareness of my own smallness when standing under a particularly vast-seeming sky. There are sunrises and sunsets I can recall from thirty or more years ago. (I’m now reminded regularly of the extravagant ones they have on Waikiki Beach by a good friend’s regular Instagram posts!) Watching the Northern lights in Iceland while soaking in a natural hot spring. A night sky with such an such incredible magnitude of stars that it dwarfs any I’ve ever seen before or since, two weeks out into the Pacific, when the USS Missouri was operating under darken ship (and the magical glow of the plankton which suffused the bow wave with bioluminescence as the ship cut through the water!).

Sometimes it’s animals. A wolverine in Wyoming that acted as if we weren’t even there (so unafraid and unimpressed by my roommate and me!). A least weasel I encountered while walking alone in Jackman, Maine, near a tiny brook in a hidden dell. The vast spectrum of underwater life I’ve seen while snorkeling or SCUBA diving, from the hideous bottom-dwelling fish of Rockport, Massachusetts, to the frightening moray eels and peaceful green sea turtles of Hawaii. A phantom-like mountain lion in Montana. The great-horned owl I once freed from a chicken coop. A wood duck nesting in my sister-in-law’s chimney. The hummingbird once trapped in my garage. The gray tree-frogs I love so much to hear at night with their unmistakable call. The flying squirrel with its “baby Yoda” eyes that somehow appeared in my living room one morning!

It’s often the weather. I’ll never forget the time we rode out a terrifying storm in my dad’s 34’ trawler along the New England coast. I remember reveling in the fact that I could lean forward (trust fall style) into a steady 50+ mph wind in Leonardville, Kansas and it would hold my body upright! A lightning storm like something out of an Avenger’s movie over Boston Harbor, viewed from the 29th floor of a skyscraper at the water’s edge.

There are more. So many more. Every time I think back on a given memory of nature, another pops into my head. Some may find their way into my writing—if they haven’t already! But when I allow myself to sift through my memories for these moments, they keep springing to mind.

And yet . . . here I sit this morning, at my keyboard. All these many months feeling so trapped inside by the pandemic.

I think I’ll take a walk in the woods today.

A Family Tale

Today, I'd like to tell you a story . . .

Once upon a time, back in 2018 or so, there was a farmer named Chris. Chris and his wife Cynthia ran a farm called Greenheart, in Springfield, Vermont. Chris had two brothers, Keith and Matt. The brothers shared an appreciation for many of the best things in life, from a love of nature and fantasy fiction, to an enjoyment of good food and drink!

One day, when his brothers were visiting the farm, Chris introduced them to a new beverage. It was called Stonecutter Spirits Single Barrel Gin. It too, was from Vermont, and had been aged in bourbon barrels. The gin had a strong note of cardamom to it, and was exceptionally smooth to drink. And the brothers fell in love with it immediately!

Days passed, and weeks turned into months. And the brothers learned that Stonecutter Spirits was closing its doors! They were devastated! The world would be less vibrant without the elixir they had come to love! Was it realistic to think that they might be able to save the gin somehow? It wasn't clear. But one thing was certain: all three brothers agreed that the gin was special, and worth saving. So they decided they should at least reach out to the current owner and see if there was some chance to keep the gin alive . . .

At first the owner said no. He wished to entertain other offers, but he indicated he would send a dove, or raven, or by some other means reach out, if anything should change. As the days passed, a great plague came upon the land. Uncertainty descended upon the world. And still the brothers heard nothing.

And then, one day, a missive arrived by advanced technological means that, to anyone living in the Middle Ages would have seemed magic. It was the owner. He wished to speak again about whether the brothers might be able to save the gin after all.

And so the journey, that had hardly had a chance to start before the shadows fell across the land, began again. The challenges were many, and the road was long, with many a bump and winding turn. Chris was ultimately needed on his farm, to care for his beasts and fields. But Keith and Matt continued the journey. And they completed the quest. They had become keepers of Stonecutter! The gin would survive!

And they all lived happily ever after!

The End

Midsummer

Among other nationalities, my family has Scandinavian origins. Our last name means "mountain". My nana was Norwegian and my grandfather was Swedish. It was always fun watching their good-natured rivalry growing up. His traditions sometimes dominated over hers. But she ruled the kitchen—with such amazing foods as braided cardamom bread or her fish chowder! We even have our own family birthday song (a loose adaptation of Hanskeleva that appears to be half Danish and half Swedish!).

Back in 1991, I was lucky enough to spend Midsummer in a town in southern Sweden called Malmö. I was hosted by a family named Berg—by some coincidence and, to the best we were able to determine, they were no relation of mine! (Their son went to school in the States with one of my oldest friends.)

Midsummer in Sweden was like nothing I'd ever experienced back here in the US. The teenagers were wearing togas, and most were riding their bikes from house to house and throughout the town. Mrs. Berg laid out a true smorgasbord in her kitchen with baked goods, jams, cheeses, seven types of fish, pickled herring, salmon, cod, etc. The alcohol flowed freely. And the whole evening was a fantastical and memorable experience for me!

Fast forward to today, and I am lucky enough that my wife welcomed the fact that I wanted to reproduce that experience here at home. So that's what we now do every year! Last year's menu included Swedish meatballs, lingonberry jam, cloudberry jam, cardamom braided bread, pepparkakor, an extravagant charcuterie board (with boar sausage, truffle salami, goat gouda, gjetost—and more), new potatoes with dill & sour cream, strawberries & whipped cream, two kinds of pickled herring, gravlax, salmon pâté, Wasa crackers, cucumbers with cream cheese and dill. And . . . of course . . . mead!

It's a wonderful tradition. And I love that it is a celebration of the longest day of the year. The height of daylight (so important to those living so far from the Equator!). The bounty of summer's arrival. And a celebration of family, friends, and community. So, to all of my readers, celebrate with me this Midsummer. And raise your glass!

Skål!

(Note: This post first appeared in the June 12 edition of The Crafter’s Guild newsletter. If you want to join the guild, you can click here, and enter your email address!)

Shared experience and human connection

We are living through something unprecedented. The “social distancing” that is being encouraged to reduce the spread of the coronavirus known as COVID-19 is only accelerating the process of us removing ourselves from one another. Even more so than it already has, our online existence will become an elevated representation of who we are in the weeks ahead. Our in person selves will fall out of practice.

None of this is to say that the social distancing won’t work—to slow or even stop the spread of the virus more quickly than it might have if we didn’t alter our behavior. And there are points of light. to be observed, if you look around. People who are out in the world seem somehow friendlier—as if in acknowledgement that we are all sharing this experience together. My local farmer’s market is still being held today. In a spirit of resilience, they are holding it outside in the parking lot instead of inside the garden center where it is normally held. And they won’t do tastings today (which is a shame!). But, good for them, they are still holding the event. To make this exception even more remarkable, you can expect to find locally grown foods there, frequently being offered up by the same hands who brought them in from the field. Fresh vegetables, fish, and baked goods for sale on crude wooden tables—perhaps not much different from Ridderzaal Market! But notably, you will not find the cans of beans and rolls of toilet paper there, which are being cleaned off the stark metal shelves of our grocery stores.

But still . . . I feel as though this scare will shift us further away from personal contact in a measurable way. In my author circles (online, I should add!), people are jokingly suggesting that book sales might rise as we isolate ourselves and turn to entertainment options we can find in our own homes. I’m sure Netflix and Amazon will thrive, as a consequence. But I’m afraid that the impact on the sale of books is likely to be negligible. That said, books have always been something of a solitary affair. Living vicariously within a story you are reading is an escape. It’s a way to meet new friends and even enemies from the safety of your favorite chair. But I have faith that our ever more global culture will ensure that our human connections are restored when this storm passes. And maybe things will be forever different. Maybe we will remember that we shared this crisis together. Shared experience is powerful social glue. It’s why Potterheads and Game of Throne fans can establish an immediate and real connection with one another when they meet for the first time as strangers.

Here’s hoping.

Thank you for reading . . .

Pronunciation Guide (Updated)!

When I imagined the day my book became widely available, I didn’t anticipate that most of the questions I’d get from my readers would revolve around how to pronounce the names! So, I’m publishing this guide to pronouncing the character and place names appearing in The Crafter Chronicles! (As a bonus, I’ve also included some other non-name words that I think might be unfamiliar to many people, and especially words I’ve created, like satje.)

Update (2/6/2020): In addition to providing information about pronunciation, I am now turning this guide into a glossary of sorts. Based upon reader feedback, I will plan to include this information as an addendum in any of my forthcoming works, as well as any future editions of The Crafter’s Son.

Aegir - (Ā-jeer) - A seafaring giant.
Aelric - (ALE-Rick) - A half-elf ranger of some repute.
Andehar - (AN-də-här) - The family/last name of Breeden, and his parents Holt and Marlene.
Aoilfhionn - (Ā-ō-lən) - The city of trees. Capitol city of Fardach Sidhe, homeland of the elves.
Arlon - (ar-LON) - The capitol of Hyrde, and seat of the kingdom.
Ath - (rhymes with bath) - A land comprised of mountains and a fertile river valley. Home of the giants. It occupies the northeast region of Erda.
bailey - (BĀ-lē) - A defensive wall that encloses the land surrounding a castle.
Beltide - (BEL-tide) - A holiday celebrating the arrival of spring.
Bertil - (BURR-til) - A dwarven smith of ancient legend.
Birghid - (burr-ƷĒD) - Goddess of wisdom and beauty.
Chavenay - (shä-və -NĀ) - A large family estate in Laon held by the Robinet family.
Conkle - (CON-kəl) - Last/family name of a Ridderzaal Carpenter and his son.
Culuden - (CƏ-lə-den) - Capitol city of Pretania. Seat of the Pretanian clan chief, Ayres Starkad, father of Kestrel Starkad.
Dura - (DÜ-rə) - Assistant to the Princess's torturer.
Dvargheim - (DVARG-hīm) - Mountainous home of the dwarves, occupying the eastern region of Erda.
Einar - (Ī-nar) - The name of Breeden's father, given to him by Aegir the giant.
Ekszer Hegy - (ECK-Zurr HEH-gee) - An island off the dwarven coast of Dvargheim. Home to a fortress run by wizards and scholars.
Erda - (UR-dä) - The continent of known lands where The Crafter’s Son takes place.
Fardach Sidhe - (far-däk SHĒ) - Forested homeland of the Elves, occupying the western region of Erda.
Fuller - (FƏL-ər) - Last/family name of Janelle, daughter of a cloth merchant of Ridderzaal.
Gaidheal - (GĀ-ell) - The ancient name of the people of the land of Shenn Frith, who are colloquially referred to as Shenn Frith.
gambeson - (GAM-bə-sən) - A padded shirt worn under armor.
Geornlice - (JORN-liss) - Southern land known for its swamps and bayous. Inhabited predominately by gnomes.
Götar - (GÖ-tär) - Dwarf god of war.
Guéret - (GÖ-rā) - The land in Laon held by the Marchant family.
Hewrey - (HYÜ-rē) - Raffe, sergeant at arms at Ridderzaal.
Hyrde - (HĒRD) - Central region of Erda. Homeland of Breeden, Janelle, Oskar, and Lorelei.
Hyrden - (HĒRDen) - The people of Hyrde.
Jenlyns - (JEN-linz) - A Knight-Captain of Hyrde.
Jetningen - (JET-ning-en) - Mountainous land to the east of Erda. Inhabited principally by trolls.
Keir - (KAIR) - Famous Pretanian King who lived 200 years before The Crafter’s Son.
Krigare - (CREE-gar) - The war-like race of people living in the north.
Krigsrike - (KRĒG’s-rike) - Home of the Krigare. The land occupying the northern-most region of Erda.
Laon - (LAY-on) - The breadbasket of Erda. A flat land of rich soil where a majority of the grain consumed in Erda is produced. Occupying the southwest corner of Erda, between the forests of Fardach Sidhe and Shenn Frith, and the swamplands of Geornlice.
Laonese - (LAY-on-ēz) - The people of Laon.
Long Lake - A large lake which forms the eastern border of Hyrde. To the east of the lake lie Jetningen and Dvargheim.
Lorelei - (LORE-ə -lie) - A princess of Hyrde.
Mahjar - (MÄ-ʒar) - A tribal and nomadic race of humans from the Namur region, famed for their horses. All Mahjars are from Namur. But not all people of Namur are of the race of the Mahjar.
Mairwen - (MAIR-wen) - A maid of Ridderzaal castle.
Marchant - (marsh-AUNT) - Laonese family name of Laudan and his father Odilon.
Mikele - (mi-KEL-lay) - A goddess and patron/protector of the Gaidheal.
Miremont - (MIR-ə-mont) - A large trade city in central Laon.
Mirgul - (MEER-gül) - A god. Brother to Mirren.
Mirren - (MIR-en) - A god. Brother to Mirgul.
Mungo - (Mung-go) - Pretani god of luck.
Namur - (NÄ-mur) - A land of rolling hills and wild grassland where the Namur people raise their herds of half-tame horses. It occupies the region between Pretania to the west, Krigsrike to the north, Ath to the east, and Hyrde to the south.
Oskar - (OSS-kar) - An orphan who grew up on the streets of Arlon
Per/Pers - (Pur/Purz) - Short for Persimmon. A young boy who helped Breeden and Sergeant Hewrey with the binding of Tavish Ranald's injury.
Pretania - (pre-TÄN-ya) - A land of high elevation with a challenging terrain composed of bluffs and steep hills, occupying the northwest region of Erda.
Pretani/Pretanian - (pre-TÄN-ē/pre-TÄN-ē-ən) - The people of Pretania.
Ranald - (RA-nəld) - Last/family name of Tavish, a Hyrden noble.
Raulin - (Raw-lin) - The King of Hyrde, Laon, and Pretania.
Rhonwen - (RON-wen) - An elven princess and warrior.
Ridderzaal (RID-ur-zäl) - The name of the castle, and the city which surrounds it, in the south of Hyrde, on Long Lake.
Robinet - (rob-i-NĀ) - Family name of Derek, and his father Hugh. Laonese nobles.
satje - (SÄT-jay) - A spicy treat of smoked or dried fish, beef or poultry served on sticks.
seneschal - (SEN-ə-Shəl) - A steward in charge of a lord’s estate.
Shenn Frith - (shenn FRITH) - A small region of land located in the western forests of Erda, occupied by the Gaidheal. Also, the name commonly used to describe the people of that land.
Starkad - (STAR-kad) - Family name of Kestrel, and his father Ayres, Pretanian nobles.
tabard - (TA-bard) - An outer tunic worn by a knight over his armor.
Usen - (YÜ-sen) - The prophet of the One God.
Wilham - (WILL-em) - A famous conquering king of Hyrde who consolidated the nations of Pretania, Laon, and Hyrde as a single kingdom.
Woodfall - (WOOD-fall) - River and town on Long Lake where Breeden grew up.
Ydenia - (ē-DĒN-yə) - A journeyman mage, and friend of Cedric.

Other:
Knight-Captain - A commanding officer of an army of knights and accompanying foot soldiers.
Knight-General - A commanding officer in charge of a nation’s army in times of war.
1 gold crown = 10 silver swans
1 silver swan = 10 copper commons

I will plan to update this list as the requests come in, or I think of any other potentially challenging words. But these are probably a good place to start!

* Stress/emphasis is shown by word parts in ALL CAPS (non-stressed syllables are in lower case). Where I’ve used symbols or diacritical marks, here is what they mean!

a - “a” as in bad
ä- “ah” as in ma or father
ā - “ay” as in day
ə - “uh” as in duh or what
e - “e” as in bed
ē- “ee” as in feed
i - “ih” as in dip
ī– “ii” as in wide
ʒ - “zh” as in version or usual
ö - “oe” as in voyeur
ō- “oh” as in go
ü- “oo” as in goose or blue

Advanced Readers

I've had some great feedback on my first book. There are some very close readers out there! And I love engaging in conversations about my writing with people who care about what makes a good story, who care about writing, and even folks who care about grammar!

It seems like, even after hundreds of people have now read it, readers are still bringing up new things to talk about. I love it!

I need people like that. Not just writing reviews on Amazon and Goodreads, but I need them on my side! Helping me to make my stories better when they are still in draft form.

Are you one of those people? Does the idea of becoming part of the story interest you? The time commitment would be minimal--and really not much different from the time it would take you to read a book normally. The difference is that a) you would get early access to my stories, and b) if you saw anything that doesn't make sense, sounds wrong, seems out of place, etc., you would tell me, and we would fix it together!

It would even be an opportunity to give me your opinions about plot, share your ideas for where you'd like to see the stories go, etc. Sound interesting to you? Then please consider joining The Crafter's Guild, or sign up for my Advanced Readers Group on Facebook!

Thanks for reading!

Novella preview!

Those who subscribe to The Crafter’s Guild were given a chance to vote on which novella I would make a priority.

My plan, after an initial run on Kindle Select, during which I will sell them for $0.99, is to give away these novellas for free to generate interest in my series. But I wanted to prioritize the order in which I should write them. These are the three novellas I have sketched out and plan to write:

1. Back story of Cedric

2. Back story of Oskar

3. Origin (birth/youth) story of Aelric (really this one is more about Aelric’s dad—but he’s a fun character, too!)

And the winner was . . . #1! The back story of Cedric!

So, without further ado, here is a first look at the novella’s opening . . .

---

Cedric looked around the mostly empty room. Almost everything had been carefully bundled up in crates. He’d let his aide take charge of the majority of the items in his study—predominately books, scrolls and other loose writings. But he’d asked him to leave the packing of his trophy shelf to himself. He couldn’t bear the thought that those items might get damaged or lost. So he would see to them personally.

The shelf was more cluttered than he liked. But the items it contained were ones with which he would have a hard time parting.

A troll’s tooth. A bit gruesome, but there could be no better reminder of what he had undergone.

A smooth grey adder stone on a simple twine lanyard.

A delicate wand of wenge wood. The elf who’d passed it on to Cedric claimed it had been a gift from the tree itself.

A raw chunk of silver ore from the Dwarven king.

A fearsome talon he had found in the mountains of Ath. The Krigares were convinced it was a dragon’s claw—though, strangely, it seemed to be made of stone.

And, of course, there were his journals. He’d started keeping them when he was campaigning with the king so many years ago. And, for the most part, he’d done a fair job of keeping up with the habit.

He grabbed an empty crate and set it at his feet. And then he plucked his oldest journal from the shelf. It was smaller than the others. More weathered and tatty. He brought the journal up to his nose and inhaled. The earthy smells of leather, ink and vellum relaxed him. And he leaned back in his chair and stared idly out the window. Dawn would be breaking soon.

He raised the book to his nose a second time and took an even deeper breath. Still calming and familiar—though not quite as transporting as the first whiff. On a whim, he uncoiled the leather cord that held the pages together from around the button on the journal’s cover. And he flipped to the first entry. . . .

Self-Publishing

The stigma seems to be gone. Of self-publishing, that is. I'll just start with that. For years, I’ll admit that it was an obstacle for me. . . .

My first novel, or a draft very much in the spirit of what has become The Crafter’s Son, was finished years ago. In 2008 I was passing out .pdfs like a salesman passing out business cards at a convention. My family and close friends had all at least checked it out. Some had read it to completion. And the feedback was mostly very supportive and positive. Even "non-Fantasy-types" seemed to like it.

All good, right? Well, yes, but . . . the literary agents and publishers I contacted weren't interested. And then, life happened. I got divorced and my free time, and secondary priorities, became tied up with other focuses and different activities.

But in 2019 my kids had somehow gotten older. They were now all teenagers, and were all achieving the kind of emotional maturity and balance a parent hopes for. So I decided to give it another go. I did my research. I identified the most high-powered literary agent I could find (who represents some of the top talent in the Fantasy genre right now). And I submitted my query per his requirements. I waited the appropriate amount of time. And then, once the window had passed, as he'd said in his query instructions, I was to consider him not interested. This was August of 2019.

While I was waiting for what would prove to be "rejection number seven" I started listening to podcasts about self-publishing. Eventually, I stumbled onto Mark Dawson. And so it was that, when the rejection came, I bit the bullet and shelled out the $500 for Mark's course.

I will qualify my next paragraph quite clearly: this is not a paid endorsement. Nor does Mark have a clue who I am, nor does he have anything to do with what I'm about to say. But . . . if you have a dream of self-publishing, and you can scrape together $500 by clipping coupons or skipping your morning Dunks, you can hardly do better than to pay for Mark's course. It gave me everything I needed to get off the ground and publish my novel. From cover design, to print layouts, to advertising on Facebook, to finding an editor . . . it was all there.

There was even a "tech library" with guided walk-throughs to painstakingly show you precisely what to click on and where to open a Kindle Direct Publishing account, to create a Facebook Ad, and even to write the "blurb" to sell your writing. Truly . . . the best $500 I can recall ever spending. It has invariably paid for itself many times over in the time, energy and effort it has saved me. And it also served as a checklist for everything I did to work through the process of selling my book on Amazon (spoiler: that's the first step!).

So, if you have been wrestling with the idea of self-publishing, I urge you to check out Mark’s podcast and see for yourself what he is all about.

Good luck, and good writing!

Reviews

Everybody says you need to prepare yourself and thicken your skin if you are going to publish a book. The first sign of this, for me, was when my niece rated my book four out of five stars on Goodreads.com. My hackles immediately went up. "What? Only four stars? How could you?"

But then I listened to what she'd said. She didn't want to pollute the integrity of her "cred" on Goodreads.com by doling out inflated reviews. So she gave it the rating she believed in. How can I not respect that?

For that matter, how can I not respect "Big Dee" and "Ellija" for their two-star ratings of my book? Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion. And the things they say in their reviews are not wrong. They are just a matter of a difference in expectations as to what they are looking for in a "good read" and what I am trying to do with my writing.

I think The Wheel of Time was too long and too strung out. And yet I also loved it. In large measure, I loved Jordan's pace and his practice of allowing unresolved threads to hang at the end of every book. Sure, it wasn't immediately satisfying in a complete way—like a sitcom that resolves itself in 22 minutes on screen. But it built up a love of Rand, Matt, Egwene, Nynaeve, and Perrin that I don't think he could have achieved in a series with a faster-burning pace.

Like Jordan, my preferred style of story development involves a careful building up of a base of point of view characters with whom I hope the reader will establish real empathy. Unlike Jordan, I hope to do this in three books (that's right: the old trilogy!). Though I think it's important to establish that I also reserve the right to "expand the universe" of The Crafter Chronicles with subsequent series, accompanying novellas, prequels, etc.

But . . . what should I take away from the negative reviews I've gotten so far? I do think it's fair to say that The Crafter's Son almost reads more like an "Act One" than a complete and tidy book with a resolved global plot at the end. My world- and story-building style is more like that employed by Robert Jordan (rest his soul) or even Ken Follett, with his Pillars of the Earth. I want to build something slowly and carefully that people care about, and that carries them along for a while. Follett wrapped up Pillars in 976 pages. My first book is 286. So if you look at it that way, you can think of The Crafter's Son as the first installment of what will ultimately become a book that, I hope with all of my heart and creative soul, feels something like a fantasy version of The Pillars of the Earth.

In short . . . I want to tell a longer story. I'm not here for the quick hit. I'm here for the long haul. And I look forward to being joined by those of you looking for the same!

Inspiration

People often ask me where my inspiration comes from. The easy answer is that it comes from pretty much everywhere. Some scenes I describe are inspired by places I’ve been, dreams I’ve had, paintings I’ve seen, music I’ve listened to, etc. Some moments in my books are riffs on, or exaggerations of, actual events I experienced or witnessed. And so many of the ruminations of my characters mirror thoughts that have gone through my own head!

Two quick examples . . .

In grad school, back in 1994, my roommate Justin and I visited Yellowstone Park. We were standing at the top of one of a million scenic vistas, and we could see a small waterfall down in this valley below us. But the walls of the valley were so steep they were nearly gorge like, and they were covered in loose scree. Undaunted, we climbed, or more accurately slid our way down to the base of the valley. At the bottom, we discovered a place that looked as though it had never been touched by man. Everything was covered in a thick mat of moss. And there was a double waterfall cascading into a pool of crystal clear water. If dryads and fairies walked the earth, they would surely call this place home. I will never forget it. I have a picture of us down there. And you can tell from the photo that it was an amazing spot. But the picture still doesn’t do justice to the memory I carry of it. That grotto, or a place inspired by it anyway, will make an appearance in book two!

The second inspiration is a song. In fact, that one song is probably the single biggest inspiration for me to write this series! See if you can guess which song it is! Might be tricky until the second book comes out . . .

P.S. - We nearly didn’t make it out of that gorge! Getting up and out was an adventure, and a story, for another time!