Living Musically: Prepare Ye

D: What, pray tell, are we preparing for?

A: . . . um, May Day? Beltane?

D: Really? Because I’m pretty certain that Prepare Ye the way of the Lord has nothing to do with Beltane.

A: Not even if we’re going to Sing About Love?

D: . . . Still not going with it. In theory, perhaps. But in function? No.

A: Killjoy. Okay, then we are preparing to edit the now-completed first draft of the Changelings sequel, The Coming Storm.

D: Preparing to edit? Preparing?! What have you been doing all week, then?

A: Well, I put the two narratives together, but after that, I decided I really ought to play candy crush. And clean out my email folders. And then I did a fair bit of staring off into space lamenting the death of my iPod.

D: Overlooking your gross negligence, allow me to extend my deepest sympathy. Would you like a moment of silence?

A: Nice, D. Silence is the problem. There’s been altogether too much silence. And stop mocking me.

D (Hides grin) But you’re not music-less. You’ve been playing the same bloody dirge—

A: It’s not a dirge, it’s a drumming song.

D: . . .

A: Okay, so when it and it’s fellows are on repeat it may sound a bit dirge-ish.  I can’t help it. Florence and her machines, The Hobbit and Godspell are the only decent things on my backup Nano. Well, that and Christmas music. While I do love me a good Adeste Fidelis

D: Oh boy, do you ever – how many copies of that song do you have?

A: 10. What’s your point?

D: You only need 1, A.

A: In that, you are gravely mistaken.

D: So, is doing something about this musical wasteland one of the things for which you must ‘prepare?’

A: Yup. I’m taking steps (Yes, we are participating in Building Rome over at Green Embers. Check it out). The first of which is to quit my whining and take the Christmas music off the Nano. It’s cold enough out there without me singing Jingle Bells.

D: Can you stop linking people to the Christmas music?!

A: What? It’s what came on this week – which was really rather a kick to the head.

D: Oh boy. Is that your only goal for the week?

A: No – you can stop tapping your foot at me, Druid. I’m going to see if I can’t hit the half-way mark on editing The Coming Storm.

D: And . . .?

A: You just can’t let it be, can you?

D: Nope.

A: Fine – there’s also some research I need to do – mostly radio control room protocol in WW2, and herbal remedies used in the Highlands of Scotland in the mid 1700s. If anyone knows anything about either of those, and would be pleased as punch to let me pick their brain, drop me a line in comments!

D: You make that sound so appealing. . . you are essentially offering to turn into a zombie in exchange for information.

A: Well, that is how editing makes me feel, so however picturesque my cliché there was, it works.

D: . . .

A: Okay, so I have another goal, and that’s to write a review of About Time for Green Embers Recommends, and catch up on my favorite Bayou chronicle over at Helena’s.

D: Lovely. Now, may I suggest a little less conversation and some more action on your part?

A: I don’t think that means what you want it to mean, D.

D: I let you use “Let it Be.”

A: Point taken.

D: And so?

A: And so, we shall bid the blog a fond adieu for the evening – thank you so much for reading & have a great night!

It Lives!

D: Picture it, if you will – a bent figure emerges from a nest of blankets and coffee cups. It stumbles. Its legs are weak and it is nearly overcome by the debris that surrounds it.

It is A.

She went into the weekend an uncertain warrior, and has emerged. . .

Victorious!

5 signs you’ve taken writerly hibernation too far:

Exhibit A: Coffee Cups and Cat Toys

Exhibit A: Coffee Cups and Cat Toys

1. You’ve been sitting at your desk so long, the cats start to think of it as sacred space, and start sacrificing their mouse-toys to your benevolence.

2. The furnace dies, lights start winking out throughout the house and you’re pretty sure it may be the end of days in glacier form outside your door, but damn, this is a good bit and you just can’t stop now.

3. You shun email and any other form of communication for so long that you’re thinking a ‘scorched earth’ policy might not be so bad – that can work in cyberspace, right? Right?!

4. You realize it’s a good thing you made a casserole or two before you closed the door on human interaction, otherwise your child might have been SOL when it came to dinner.

D: True story. TC came wandering by at some hour past dark declaring himself hungry. His mother’s reaction (which, remarkably was not to tell him to invade turkey)? Mumbling something resembling: Yeah, food. Just a sec. Five hours later he’s had dinner, desert and whatever else he could rustle up in the fridge, and A is still buried beneath her blankets clacking away at the laptop.

A: I was at a good part.

D: The beauty of this list is that the entire weekend was a ‘good part.’

A: I know. I’m excited.

D: Aside from the fact that I think you killed me –

A: Oi! Spoilers, Druid. And I did not. I’m still editing that bit.

5. A song that is not harmonious with the predominantly soundtrack-like playlist you’ve developed for your writing somehow pops up. Under normal circumstances, you love this song. However, during witerly hibernation, your reaction is to break into tears because you were so close, and jab at the iPod until something far more pleasing appears.

D:This may be accompanied by muttering and swearing, and it may cause your child to raise his eyebrows and back slowly out of the room.

A: He did not – only when he started singing along with one of the songs, which may or may not have induced me to snarl at him, was there any attempt to tiptoe around the writer.

D: And then someone accused you of listening to a dirge.

A: Well, it was a bit intense.

D: A bit?

A: Okay, so OD-ing on The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug soundtrack, and Florence + The Machines for three days straight may have been overkill (if you aren’t me and you don’t have a penchant for dirge-like music to begin with).

D: And then you went and added the Henry V soundtrack to the mix.

A: At least I left Braveheart out.

D: Thank the gods for small mercies – I’m not sure smearing yourself with woad and shouting “Freedom” would be all that conducive to your efforts.

A: Actually…

D: That’s an experiment for a different list, A.

A: Killjoy.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to listen to Thorin wax deeply lyrical about misty mountains cold and figure out just which Irish ‘otherworld’ D has managed to lose himself in! Good night, folks and thank you so much for reading!

Writing with myself

D: A? A, where are you? A, we have a post to write.

A: (muffled) I’m over here.

D: What are you doing over there? How did you manage to get in there, anyway? Is that a – wait, I don’t want to know what that is.

A: I’m hiding.

D: Did they finally finger you in the cookie caper?

A: Huh? Have you been reading crime noir again?

D: Maybe.

A: Okay, well you can go back to that. I’m good here.

D: No, you’re not. That looks awfully cramped, and I’m not sure your neck is supposed to bend at that angle. What are you hiding from, anyway?

A: Myself.

D: . . . You never cease to amaze me, A—

A: Why, thank you D.

D: I wasn’t done. You never cease to amaze me with the depths of your madness.

A: Why, thank you D.

D: (eye roll). Why are you hiding from yourself?

A: It’s either hide or reach through the mists of time and wring my neck. I’m thinking hiding is better.

D: . . .

A: It’s not right, D! It’s not right what I do during hand edits. Why don’t you stop me?!

D: Because it’s really funny.

Writing notes to myself should not be allowed.

Writing notes to myself should not be allowed.

A: . . . Letting me write notes to myself is funny? Not editing a few pages and then leaving me a pithy note saying “You’ll know what to do…” is amusing?

D: Well, when you say it in that tone of voice, no. But at the time, it was hilarious.

A: It’s not fair, that’s what it is – I don’t remember what I write during hand edits D. It’s like Christmas every time I turn a page to see what I did with it. When I see a blank page, I start to wonder if maybe I was just being lazy. When I see a blank page with a ‘love note’ from myself, I start to wonder if maybe I was really a sadomasochist with a death wish.

D: So that’s why you were yelling at the draft yesterday.

A: Yep.

D: Did you fix the scene?

A: (deep breath) Yep.

D: Well then there you go. You knew you could do it.

A: Don’t push it.

D: I would also like to point out that I have as much control over editing you as I do over writing you.

A: I suppose.

D: I mean, you whip out that red pen and all hell breaks loose on the page. I run when that happens A. It’s safer.

A: Coward.

D: Yep. Now what are you waiting for? Haven’t you read the part where you told yourself to re-write the first six chapters of the next section? Time to get writing, woman.

A: I did what?

D: You haven’t gotten to that note?

A: No.

D: So, I think I hear the kettle boiling. Or the doorbell – yeah, that’s it. Will you excuse–

A: D, where do you think you’re goi–

D: Sorry, have to run – it’s been swell! See you, A!

Seriously, I should not leave notes to myself in my edits, even if it is my own personal form of time travel. It’s just not nice, plus it’s a bad writing habit and more than a little lazy. Luckily, it’s fairly harmless (unless I do figure out how to reach back and wring my neck. Then I’m in trouble). What is your worst, funny and harmless, bad habit?

One simply did

Yup, this whole post was just another excuse to put up Captain Jack.

Yup, this whole post was just another excuse to put up Captain Jack.

D: One simply did what, A? Gods above, woman, your titles are all over the place – could you at least have a complete thought?

A: Would you like to take over the blog?

D: I thought you’d never ask. I was thinking, the color scheme–

A: D, that was rhetorical. No.

D: Well, it isn’t as though you have any grand ideas – or any ideas at the moment.

A: True, but we’ll get to that in a bit. The title refers to that delightful meme-inducing statement: One does not simply walk into Mordor.

D: Wait, I remember – Mordor refers to editing in the morass of your mind.

A: Precisely. Nice exposition, D.

D: Someone has to make sense of your thoughts.

A: As it is, I read all 421 pages of the first draft. Personally, D, I think you should take notes for me all the time.

D: I took notes for you?

A: It must have been you.

D: . . .

editsA: This. This could not have come from me:

“We’ve mentioned that it’s damp, cold and dark several times now. We get it. It’s Ireland.”

D: Oh. That. No, that was all you. You had a snark fest with yourself. The “we” has no relation to me. Don’t you remember?

A: Um, no. Really – all me?

D: Well, I’m not taking credit for it. I’m your muse, not your editor.

A: You’re my muse? God help me.

D: They already did. Remember? They gave you me. Boy, this editing thing really has blasted your brain. Now, about putting me in charge of the blog . . .

A: I am going to regret this . . . so you know how you have jack-all to do with Book 2?

D: What do you mean, “jack-all?” I thought we discussed a cameo, A!

A: Be nice and we’ll discuss it some more. And you aren’t in charge of the blog – I still hold the keys. You are a wonderful troubadour for our community, but I was wondering if you wanted to interact a bit more?

D: Interact? You mean, you’ll let me talk to people??

A: Reluctantly.

D: Well, of course I would love to! This is just what I need. Obviously, I know I’m fantastic, but it isn’t all about me, or even you, A—wait. Wait wait wait. Why?

A: . . . Um, variety?

D: No. No, there is something more sinister, more nefarious at work here.

A: I need a bit more structure?

D: Who are you and what have you done to A?

A: D, summer is over. Fall and winter are my busy seasons, and TC did indicate that I ought to be spending more time with him. Unless you’d like me to sideline the books—

D: Let’s not get carried away, A. I appreciate structure and your attempt to include me in it.

A: That’s better. You interviewed Mike, from The Eye Dancers the other day (post is live here) and it was fun. Perhaps we could develop a weekly segment, The Druid Asks the Questions, which would go live on Wednesdays. And it wouldn’t just be for writers – there are poets, photographers, people, dogs, and even a few mythical figures who I’m sure would enjoy a bit of banter with a centuries-old Druid.

D: Dogs?

A: You’re the one who likes to highlight the dogs on your tale-telling. Perhaps you could interview one.

D: I’m not sure if you’re setting the bar incredibly low, or you have a misguided idea of my ability to interact with living creatures.

A: You’re the Druid, D. I’m just the writer.

D wants to get inside your head

d as imaged by Green Embers

By Green Embers

Say, you – yes, you – don’t you want a centuries old druid rummaging around in your head? Once he’s there he’ll trumpet his troubadour horn at your accomplishments and perhaps snark at your failures (It’s not my fault if you tell him and he has his way with it!).

That’s right, D and I want to interview you! We have questions – the whole WordPress community has questions – and you alone can answer them.

I will be reaching out in the coming weeks to people I know who have things to say. That said, if I’ve missed you, or I don’t know you at all, but you think D is pretty hilarious and would like the chance to let him fire 10 questions your way in an effort to shed light on whatever it is your dear heart desires, let me know: ksully1111@gmail.com.

It’s all part of my grand restructuring to help balance mom/work/writing/life/blogging. Because TC really did say that we need more quality time. When your pre-teen says that, you know it’s time to turn off the computer! Regular posting at the D/A Dialogues will be as follows: Tuesdays for updates, Wednesday is the Druid’s day and Thursdays are the day for all sorts of creative license.

D: What does that mean, creative license?

A: It means whatever I want it to mean.

D: . . .

A: Like what I did there?

D: Since we’re still negotiating my cameo, yes A. I think it’s splendid.

A: Whoever said you can’t teach an old Druid new tricks?

D: Since A is verging on 1000 words with this wordiest of wordy posts, my tale-telling is going to be regrettably terse.

Prompted prompts at the Community Story Board

The Goblin Door

Friday the 13th 

More Community Storyboard, because it’s wonderful and so are its contributors

Helena Hann-Basquait + Community Storyboard = fantabulous

Helen Midgley’s poem Where Did All Those Summers Go? is the Featured Post at the Community Storyboard.

Congratulations

Kirsten at Finding Kirsten has a new book, Bittersweet Goodbye.

Helena Hann-Basquait and Jessica Bell will be featured in the Off the KUF Anthology!

Laugh, because you can

25 Steps to Being a Traditionally Published Author, the Lazy Bastard Edition at Terrible Minds.

A: Actually this is good for those looking to be traditionally published and those who went independent because frankly, I read that and thought, what the hell have I done – maybe I can do a Kickstarter campaign to get the cash to self-publish, after all!!

Contests

D: Or, Because Tolkien is God.

A: I thought you were a pagan, D.

D: Fine. He’s a god. Happy now?

A: Supremely (and no, we don’t encourage fan-fiction, but we thought we’d pass it along because it’s interesting). The One Ring.Net is calling for submissions.

Adventure calls

This summer’s catch phrase was “I’m going on an Adventure.” I’d like to thank Bilbo and Company, and particularly Mr. Freeman and Mr. Shore, for making the line so charming. Freeman’s delivery, coupled with Shore’s score, was perfect. I have listened to it so many times this summer that they are intrinsically linked in my head and in my heart.

This summer was an adventure.

My son went on vacation with my sister’s family, and had a wonderful time. I cannot thank my sister enough. Then he went to band camp. Within the structure of daily classes and rehearsals, he had a liberating sense of freedom. Again, he had a wonderful time and discovered musical things about himself that he may never have known without it.

As I delivered him to each adventure, we listened to The Hobbit soundtrack, specifically “The Adventure Begins” track. We’d both crow, “I’m going on an adventure” at the appropriate moment and giggle at our nerd-ery.

We even used it to lighten the ill humor of getting lost and driving in a great big circle after my niece’s wedding. There is a lot of big empty nowhere in Wisconsin and I – being one who is easily lost crossing the street – managed to drive us through most of it. But we were on an adventure.

I’ve also spent the last six months on the incredible adventure of writing (or re-writing depending on one’s perspective) a book. I’ve walked the path of this book before, but never with such emotional depth. This adventure has been hair-raising, gut wrenching but most of all, satisfying. Camp NaNoWriMo was another incredible and daunting adventure – one from which I am still recovering.

As we head into the autumn, I will be on another adventure called editing and begging for beta readers. Watch this space for much grousing between D and I. Hopefully I will remember that it’s an adventure, and keep it lighthearted. No one wants to see Druidicide in cyberspace.

D: Least of all, me.

A: Don’t tempt me D. What are you doing here? This is my space!

D: I thought Sundays were your space. It’s Tuesday.

A: Congratulations. You’ve mastered the modern calendar, D.

D: . . .

A: Right. I meant to post this on Sunday. However, I’ve had some busy weekends lately (my real-life adventure) which included a tussle with a swarm of wasps.

D: You mean they had the temerity to bite you? At least I only nibble at your sanity.

A: Nibble at my sanity? If by nibble you mean take giant, slobbering bites. . . Yes, the wasps bit me. And bit me again. The third one that tried it got a great big backhander, but I think that was pure luck on my part.

D: Wait, do I understand you correctly? You’re a warrior, you engage in timey-wimey antics and make mysterious allusions to real-life adventures. . .

A: Yes, D. It’s true. . . . I’ve been around you waaaaaaay too long.

D: (Eye roll) I try being nice . . . Fine. I will leave you to your “personal space” on the blog. Let me know when you’re done, will you, A? You did promise the good people editing, begging and grousing, after all.

A: You almost sound like you’re looking forward to it, D.

D: Anything beats the empty cavern of your mind, A. The echo is creepy.

A: Cheers, D. Here’s to the adventure!

What is your idea of an adventure?

 

Phoning it in

D: I can’t believe you’re typing this on your phone.

A: I know – watch out for autocorrect fails.

D: Auto-what? A it’s bad enough you didn’t listen to your intuition and do this at lunch. Must you add insult to injury?

A: Yes?

Anyway, this is supposed to be my first-of-the-month, Rome Construction Crew Update. I think, in light of the fact that I’m posting this in 3G, those updates and goals for the month shall be brief.

D: Can you actually manage brief?

A: With you? Not bloody likely! If you could refrain–

D: From being me?

A: I’d consider it a favor.

D: I suppose, under the circumstances–

A: Cheers, D. So, progress:

  • Part 2, first draft, is complete, as is the first read-through. I have some structural edits to make, but it’s decent.
  • Also have an outline for part 3 and wrote the first 500 words… The outline is on my google drive, and thus unavailable to me, but im pretty sure I haven’t trashed it.

D: Yet.

A: D!!

D: Sorry.

A: No you’re not.

D: Who’s wasting 3G bandwidth now??

A: You don’t even know what that is – but good point.

  • On a personal note, I’m doing better at the whole low-sugar, grain-free thing (paleo/primal), and resurrected my exercise regime. Weight is, for now, steady – higher, but steady.
  • Garden is in and flourishing. Late spring / early summer sucked weather-wise, but the potatoes are practically gleeful.

D: Can potatoes even be–

A: (Glare)

D: Right – oh look, a blue box.

A: Madman.

  • Finally, I’m waiting for the Part 1 beta readers’ feedback, but I think each “Book” in the Out of Time (working title) series, will a self-contained series. It feels more appropriate to Book 1 anyway, and means interesting things for Books 2 & 3.

Goals for July

  • Signed up for the July Camp (insert abbreviation jumble that means I’m writing 50k words in a month here). That will take care of Parts 2 and 3. 2013-Participant-Lantern-Circle-Badge
  • Develop and prep food/recipe cleanup project, which I hope to debut by month-end. D will not feature.
  • Start researching potential agents/markets. After much research, I know I haven’t the personal resources to self-publish in a way that would please my hidden perfectionist soul. Or impress enough people to at least make it pay for itself.
  • Complete my beta reading assignment – it has a deadline, so it’s a given (gotta have a few of those, right?!).
  • Set up all the delightful guest posts for my two-week child-free writing hermitage. All of you are fantastic. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!
  • Read a book – preferably a frivolous, delightful book. I’m open to suggestions.
  • Also, I’m thinking of adding something along the lines of “The Story So Far” to this blog. It would be a road-map/synopsis of where I am in the Out of Time/Sean & Maureen journey and would introduce the players and the events a little better to give D and I a bit more context.

D:Make people feel a bit more welcome, perhaps? Help them understand the crazy universe that you reference willy-nilly as though we all had access to your head?

A: Says the character in my head.

D: Precisely. Are you done yet?

A: One more! I want to outline one longer piece of fiction and write two other short pieces that aren’t related to the Out of Time universe, and submit a piece I’ve been working on for the RCC.

D: Always have to have the last word, hm?

A: I learned from the Master, D.

Final last word (I promise): The time may be nigh (ok, in a year or so) for an adventure. If you could go anywhere, if things like Visas and Passports weren’t an issue, where would you go? How long would you stay? What would you do?

One does not simply

D: A? A, are you ok?

A: Grumph!

D: I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that.

A: Harumph garumph!

D: Are you attempting to learn a new language? I know it may or may not be a Pre- Indo-European language, but Pict doesn’t sound like that.

A: Gah!

D: Uh. . . A?

A: Sorry – too much peanut butter.

D: (Starting already?)

A: (Cooking failed today. Cooking failed miserably.)

D: (I see.)

This has no reason to be here, except that Captain Jack is my third favorite immortal, after 10 and River. Oh, wait, I know… walking into Mordor is how I felt about reading my own stuff wholesale. Yeah. That’s it.

This has no reason to be here, except that Captain Jack is my third favorite immortal, after 10 and River. Oh, wait, I know… walking into Mordor is how I felt about reading my own stuff wholesale. Yeah. That’s it.

A: Do you have any idea how difficult it is to read 100 pages (Times New Roman 12pt, double spaced) of your own writing . . . without touching a single word?!?!?!

D: Um, I’m a Pict, remember? We didn’t write down our epic greatness.

A: I’m beginning to see why. I read a great post over at Creative Writing with the Crimson League, and it struck me that I had never read any first, second or even third draft of my work without attacking it with my pen or cursor, or whatever was handy to make edits.

D: Never?

A: Never ever.

D: I’m afraid to ask, but how did you do?

A: okay, ish.

D: Ish? It’s late, A. Could you please spare me from . . . you?

A: Cheers, D. It was tolerable. I didn’t hate what I read, and while there are about ten million pages of edits to attempt, it was worth it. It was excruciating, but it was worth it.

D: What doesn’t kill you, A–

A: Might end up killing you, D.

D: Right, no platitudes. Well then, shall we get to it?

A: Be my guest!

The Druid Tells the Tale

Charles of that fantastic world of Windemere has a cover art update – check out the Prodigy of Rainbow Tower. It looks stunning – my kind of story, as well.

A: You only wish you could shoot flames out of your hands, D.

D: And what makes you think I cannot?

A: You only shoot fire out of your hands if rainbow sparkles also come out your–

D: Moving right along! A, don’t you have a tale to tell?

A: Well, isn’t that tempting. . . I mean, yes!! I do. Head over to Ionia’s Readful Things Blog to catch the last (boo) installment Harry Steinman’s series on Marketing and Publishing. This post covered cracking Amazon’s Top 100 Paid in Kindle store. The entire series has been excellent; I can’t say enough about how helpful it’s been to me as a newbie.

D: (no comment.)

A: (shut up, D.)

A Invites the Audience’s Participation

What is the hardest part about editing for you (aside from the editing itself)? Do you have to sit on your hands and banish pens from your sight in order to read what you’ve written without making any edits the first time around?

Double, double, toil and trouble

. . . Sean stood in the doorway, watching them, hating them. He didn’t want to care – their fight, their belief – he wanted it to mean nothing to him.

“You would hate them for their love of country?”

“Pardon?” Sean tried to turn around, but something in that deep voice forbade it.

“Your face, it speaks volumes. You don’t like them. You don’t even respect their fight. They are prepared to die and you despise them. Is there nothing in your life worth that sacrifice? You don’t have to help them, you don’t have to share their belief, but save your contempt for yourself.”

The voice faded and Sean spun, angry words on his lips. The voice and its owner were gone however, and there was no evidence that anyone had been in the hall. Sean swallowed, his words stuck in his throat. He thought back to Maureen, facing Mrs. Mallory and the leaders of the Irish Volunteers by herself.

She was probably having the time of her life, even if she was terrified.

The voice and its message slid from his memory. With one last glance at the men who would soon make history, Sean made his way back to the drawing room. . .

D: What was that, A? Who is chatting up Sean’s mind?

A: I’m not sure. It just sort of happened.

D: A, you may be taking this ‘inspired’ thing a little too far.

A: Perhaps. Are you sure that’s not you?

D: Uh, no. Now, I’m not usually the one to tell you this, but I think what we have is an attack of the darlings.

A: I know.

D: You know what you have to do, don’t you?

A: Find out who that is and thread it better through the story?

D: . . . You could . . .

A: Or I could beat my head against a wall and hope it doesn’t leave a mark.

D: Also an option.

A: I suppose I could just delete it, too.

D: Save it in that overstuffed outtakes file you have. At least until you figure out who it is. And in the meantime, A?

A: Yes?

D: Please figure out where all the home-staging points were for the leaders of the rebellion. If I see the (SOMEWHERE) tag one more time because you have no idea where they might have been, I’m going to take over your hands and start typing for you, too. Take a tip from TerribleMinds and Google Street View the location. There’s no shame in admitting that you’ve forgotten what the city looks like.

A: I have not! I just didn’t have time to put in the descriptions.

D: Right . . .

A: Fine, it’s a good point. Oh, and D?

D: Yes?

A: Who are you and what have you done with my Druid? You’re so . . . so . . . helpful!

D: It’s early yet, A. By the time you get to the breakdown of the rebellion tonight you’re going to be wishing for your fortress of solitude all over again.

A: Gee, can’t wait, D.

The Druid Tells the Tale

D: This is wild, and fantastic and good ol’ Liz would probably have had a fit. A and I love Michael Bradley – Time Traveler’s blog, and between the Conspiracy Theory that Queen Elizabeth I was really a man in drag and the pictures of an abandoned Wizard of Oz theme park, we’re both hooked.

A: And Charles over at the Legends of Windemere has some excellent advice on how not to force the reader to suspend belief about your characters’ ability to take a hit: Don’t ‘Black Knight’ Your Characters (Yeah, A: take notes. Bugger off, D.).

D: She’s just so charming. I don’t know how I survived all 1300 years before being cast into the pit that is her mind. For those out there with manuscripts ready for submission (hint, hint, A . . . . ignoring you, D . . . ) Fight for your Write has found some publishers seeking manuscripts. Since not all of you can be wandering Druid/Bards with every hearth eager to hear the tale you tell, it’s a resource worth checking out!

A: I think he’s up to something – he’s being too nice. Anyway, check out The MisAdventures of Vanilla – there’s a new character in town and he gives me the willies: Stan: The Man Comes to Town.