I know, I should be posting more often again, especially since the summer is over. Strangely enough, time seems to have accelerated and, after an initial lag I’m whizzing along (like in those newer Star Trek movies where the light of the power-units expands while the Enterprise seems to be stuck in one place for a second before it zooms away with warp-speed). Not that I like it, mind, but there are so many things I didn’t get done in the summer (due to the heatwave and a couple of personal catastrophes), that the mountain of work barely shrinks.
Still, I just discovered that I completely and utterly forgot to let you know about my upcoming release of “Juma’s Rain” (you might remember the posts I did about the NOK-culture and Stone Age tools and weapons). I’m currently in the process of coding the eBook and print book and will hopefully be able to post the link to the pre-order page some time soon. For now, I’ll share with you the gorgeous cover, Hendry Iwanaga made for me (well, he drew the picture, I did the fonts etc.):
And this will be the full cover, front and back, for the print version:
wrap around print cover
Oh, and I’m currently releasing another 99ct short-story too. It’s about a gen-designed newt-human who has to escape two hunters. Here’s the cover and the blurb for “Newtling“:
I love my webbed fingers and my ability to stay under water for a long time…
I don’t mind that my backside is blue with brownish dots and my belly bright orange…
Neither do I care that me and my family are much smaller than our creator though we share his genes…
But what I do hate is being hunted … especially since I’m unarmed and running through the local swamp. Can a newtling like me outsmart two hunters and their state-of-the-art hunting gear?
This short story takes you into the mind of a genetically engineered newt-human-crossover and lets you witness his struggle to survive.
15 page short story with an XXL reading sample of “Paralan’s Children”, a YA scifi murder mystery.
I asked my friend Thea van Diepen from Canada to tell me about a weird place she read in. This is her reply. Have fun.
Why You Should Read at Hockey Games by Thea van Diepen
Canadians are supposed to love hockey. When we attend hockey games, we’re supposed to cheer on a team or an individual with vim and vigour, especially when we’re in another country. They must know we are not American Canadian, after all. What we’re not supposed to do during a hockey game is read a book.
When I was about eleven, in the middle of my family’s three years in Alabama, we found out about a hockey game happening in town. So my parents bought tickets.
At the time, I was busy working my way through all of the science fiction and fantasy books our local library had in its MG/YA section. I’d take out as many as I was allowed at a time (aka, a lot) and read them all in a couple days. The book I was in the middle of when the hockey game even occurred was Colors in the Dreamweaver’s Loom by Beth Hilgartner, which had me fascinated. So fascinated that, book lover as I am, I brought it with me to the game despite lingering guilt.
It’s hard to explain to someone who isn’t Canadian exactly how… Canadian hockey is. Tim Horton’s, the coffee and doughnuts chain that has also been a Canadian Thing, was started by a hockey player and its ads and commercials would feature kids playing hockey. It’s our official winter sport. It’s all over TV and social media when the season hits, during draft picks, whenever anyone might have the slightest excuse to mention it. And, yes, it was invented in Canada, no matter what anyone else might say.
Still, I am not a hockey person. Shocking, I know.
I would have not gone to the game at all, if possible, but my parents cajoled me.
“There are a bunch of Canadian players on both teams,” they said.
Which, as far as cajoling goes, worked. Moving to another country had been hard for me, and I was determined not to lose my Canadianness while there. Maybe it’d be interesting enough that I wouldn’t have to read to relieve boredom.
We went in, found our seats, and commented about how we never thought we’d find a real ice rink in Alabama. I’m not sure how much of this I joined in, as I opened my book as soon as I possibly could. And, swoosh, I was sucked right into the story. Hockey didn’t even stand a chance.
Outside of the world of the book and Zan’s adventures in an alternate world, hockey players made goals. Half-time happened. Canadians did cool things on the ice. Other vague events occurred.
Inside the book, I travelled with Zan as she both dealt with grief after her father’s death and tried to find a way to help the Orathi keep their land from being taken. There were shapeshifters, spirit-gifts, gods, and the Dreamweaver doing her best to help using a loom that can affect the actions and choices of others. With the last being the coolest world detail ever. There were characters that I loved and connected with. I wanted them to succeed. I wanted them to find happiness.
(And then there was the ending, but I won’t spoil that one for you. Just, if you do decide to read it, keep in mind that there’s a sequel… the author doesn’t hate you, promise.)
Even in the action and excitement around me, it all paled next to the book that had me riveted.
It’s easy to read a book and enjoy it when life is calm and you sit in a pleasant garden by yourself on a warm day.
But, from time to time, you may want to try reading a book during a hockey game. That’s when you know you have magic in your hands.
When have you been sucked into a story this way? What book was it?
Welcome to our little Bloghop. Here, you’ll find 15 participating blogs (find the links under this story) who posted one story today. The stories will be available for one week only. So make sure you’ll read them fast! Enjoy.
I’ll leave this post online until the 9th of September. After that, I’ll be cutting it down to the beginning. I’ll leave the links though.
“You will not eat my son!” When Mother roared at Elder, I knew the tribe didn’t want me. I was too small. I mean, Mother wasn’t very big either. The tips of her wings barely reached the shoulder blades of a red-deer, but at least she wasn’t disabled. She hovered in the air in front of Elder and spat tiny flames at him.
“He wouldn’t make a good sized snack even if I top him off with a wild boar,” Elder roared back.
“He’s a true dragon.” Mother’s voice shook with anger, and I feared she’d attack him in her rage. She wouldn’t stand a chance. After all, he was at least three times her age and thus three times her size as well. I lowered my head and crawled toward the cave’s exit avoiding the rest of the tribe as best I could.
“What do you expect,” a matron said. “His father’s a wyrm.” She swiped her tail out of my way as if I were contagious. With a sigh, I returned to the nest waiting for the tribe’s verdict. I no longer thought Mother would be successful, and everybody knew what happened to those fledglings who didn’t get accepted. It was either the cookfires or the lizards. I really, really hoped for the cookfires. At least death would be quick then.
… this story will be published in December in time fro Christmas with a second story about a dragon. If you want to be notified about the release, join my reader team.
If you’ve got a German Amazon account, I need your help. With my newest release (in German, the English version will follow in September) I’m participating in Amazon’s German Storyteller Award. To get through the first round, I’ll need as many downloads as I can get. So I set the introductory price at 99ct (Euro). If you’ve got a German Amazon account, please buy the book. Here are the details:
Ein Fantasy Liebesroman aus dem steinzeitlichen Afrika
Die Sonne brennt auf Juma hernieder, als sie ihre Familie zum größten Dorf des Stammes führt. Nichts und niemand soll sie daran hindern, Schülerin der Stammesführerin zu werden. Also ignoriert sie die Hitze. Am See wird alles besser sein. Doch die Felder, die jetzt eigentlich grünen sollten, liegen trocken vor ihr; die Erde ist rissig und spröde. Sogar der See, dessen Quellen endlos schienen, schwindet langsam.
Juma entdeckt, dass der Feuergott Mubuntu daran Schuld hat und dass die Regengöttin immer noch schläft. Doch nur Netinu, der Sohn der Stammesführerin glaubt ihr und scheint mehr Interesse daran zu haben, sie zu umwerben, als dem Stamm zu helfen. Dazu kommt, dass ihr magisches Talent sie dazu verdammt, Schülerin der Dorfzauberin zu werden. Es ist schwer, die Schadenfreude ihrer Rivalin zu verdrängen. Noch schwerer ist es, Netinu’s Werbung abzuweisen, denn Jumas Herz hat sich längst entschieden. Um den Stamm und Netinu zu retten, versucht sie alles, um der Dorfzauberin zu helfen, die Regengöttin zu wecken. Vergeblich.
Während ihre Träume in Flammen aufgehen, bereitet sich Juma darauf vor, gegen den Feuergott zu kämpfen und die Göttin zu wecken – und vielleicht, um zu beweisen, dass sie die richtige Wahl für eine Nachfolgerin der Stammesführerin wäre.
Thank you for your support!
P.S.: If you can read German and post a review in the 4 weeks after buying this book, send me your receipt and I’ll refund your money.
I woke up with the crazy idea that it should be possible to tell my life’s story in song titles. Since it’s my birthday today, I’m going to do just that. And because I’m bilingual, I’m going to use German and English songs. 😀
The world gremlins decided to have a go at me. Everything I did aside from writing seems doomed. My motorbike, in urgent need of an MOT, won’t start any more after I took the back wheel out and put it back in. There’s no reasonable explanation why it’d stop working because of that action. My youngest daughter will have to go to the hospital for a few days for an MRI because her feet are turned inward, and I’m worried sick that it might be something serious. And then, there’s the trouble with my middle daughter’s flight to the US in a few weeks:
Anger boiled in her chest hotter than the heatwave outside. A thousand dollars? Where should she take them without stealing? When she booked the flight for her daughter in January, she had thought that the special service required for an under-age child had been booked too, but somehow there had been a hickup. Now, changing the flight would mean buying a new ticket – three weeks before the trip. A nightmare!
How was she going to face her daughter’s disappointment? Bile rose in her chest and her heart hammered like a steam engine. At the same time, her throat constricted and her vision blurred.
She’d tried contacting the travel agency but they’d been playing muzak on the phone for close to 15min so far without anyone feeling the necessity to pick up the receiver and help her. Her annoyance grew. It’d be an effort not to scream at whoever would finally be at the other end – if at all. Grinding her teeth, she tried to ignore the perversely happy song blaring from the phone’s speaker.
Finally, a voice … a young man who let her anger roll off him like water off a duck’s back.
“Yes, Mam, you did send an eMail regarding the special service. Let me see what happened … please hold the line.”
Slightly calmer, she searched her Outbox. There was the eMail in question. How could she have forgotten all about it? Did that mean everything was fine now? The eMail she had answered said something about a fee that needed to be paid. A quick scan of her pass sheets revealed no payment. Had the travel agency answered her eMail in January? She couldn’t remember. She’d have to ask the friendly clerk when he picked up the phone again … toot toot toot – the line went dead.
NO! NOT NOW!
Shaking with anger, she dialed the travel agency’s number again. After maneuvering through the voice guided menu, the artificial announcer said, “Your waiting time is ten minutes.”
By now, she’d been on the phone for close to an hour already and her patience was wearing very, very thin. She closed her eyes and breathed while the muzak kept squawking “summer feelings”.
She needed to DO something or she’d go crazy. Another ten minutes of forced repose would drive her up the walls.
So she opened a document and began to write.
The anger subsided … little by little.
The song became bearable.
Fifteen minutes and counting.
Breathing deeply, not thinking about all the things she still needed to do today seemed to help – a little.
Twenty minutes …
Drat, she had left the eReader on the attic. Did she dare run upstairs? No, better not. It must be any minute now.
Thirty-five minutes – at least her husband had been so kind to fetch her eReader. Waiting was boring but reading calmed her nerves.
Forty-three minutes – another clerk.
She sighed and repeated her problem, this time making sure they got her phone number to call her back just in case the line broke down again. More waiting while the clerk inquired about her problem, then the reassurance that she’d done everything right. Still, the problem wasn’t solved yet. Someone higher up in the hierarchy had to get back with her to find out why she had neither gotten confirmation for the special service nor the bill that needed to be paid. But for now, it looked as if everything would be sorted out in time for the flight. They promised to call her back tomorrow.
FYI – they haven’t called back yet. Neither have they sent an eMail. Right at this moment, I’m in the waiting line again. No time estimate this time.
FYI-Update – Everything is sorted. The fault lies with American Airlines – they didn’t tell us, that the combination we booked wasn#t possible in their system. At least they waived the horrendous fees they first requested for re-booking the flight, and the travel agency will issue a complaint as well. Still, the fee we’ll have to pay now is ca. 200 € higher than what it would have been in January, but my daughter can fly as planned. So, we’ll have to tighten our belts a little over the next few weeks – or you could buy more books 😀
Two blogs did Interviews with me, one in German and the other one in English. On DJ Mills’ blog, I return to my starting days and discuss the twisted path I took. The German blog focuses more on my books and how I write them (naturally that interview is in German).
In August, I’ll be participating in a blog hop where several fantasy authors will post a short story on their blogs on the same day. The stories will stay up for one week, and then be pulled. So if you want to read them all, and there are some crazily talented authors participating, mark August the 26th on your calendars.
Writing (and reading) Fantasy is supped to be fun. But lately, I find myself not finishing books because imho the author ignored the most important rules. The fist one is the most important one. If it works, I can skip blunders of the other two rules.
Rule 1: Thu shalt not bore the reader
Obviously, this rule applies to all genres not just Fantasy. Unfortunately there are plenty of authors who don’t adhere to this rule. This is an instant “Won’t Buy” sign for me.
Rule 2: If you create something unusual (flying donkeys, two moons or three suns), it must have consequences in your Fantasyworld
Like many people’s, my education was scientifically biased. I always enjoyed the logic behind it. Therefore, nothing annoys me quite as much as a Fantasy-novel where basic rules of nature are ignored without giving a proper reason and without consequences for the world. Consider how many religions surround our single moon. What do your think would happen if you’ve got two moos (regardless the strange effects on ebb and flow)?
Rule 3: Magic complicates matters and doesn’t solve problems
Most Fantasy-novels contain a magical element. Of course, that’s cool and surely one reason why people read Fantasy. Still, an author shouldn’t make the mistake to use Magic to clear away obstacles for the hero (or heroine). On the contrary. To achieve rule one, it is essential that magic complicates the main character’s problems. That can happen for example through “costs” of magic (bodily exhaustion, increased ageing) or through mistakes when used (see Disney’s Sorcerer’s Apprentice, originally written by Göthe).
Of course, these rules (aside from rule one) aren’t similarly important to all readers. So, tell me, how do you feel about rules? Which ones are important to you when you read (or write) stories?
As you might have noticed from the number of covers (see here), my first Indie release (Urchin King) is a sort of tryout book for me. I keep fiddling with the cover, the formatting, the blurb… anything, to see what works best so I can apply it to the other books as well.
This time, I decided that the last cover I did, as beautiful as I think it is, doesn’t reach the intended audience (Young Adult). I came up with a completely new cover. Do you think it’s better suited to reach the intended audience? Can you tell how many pictures I used to create it? Do you like it? Do you think the KBR-seal should be bigger (and maybe in a different place)?
Here’s the new cover (I’ll still need to change the German words for their English cousins, don’t worry about that for now). We’ll get to the new blurb soon.
There were plenty more wonderful costumes (I even met Mononoke Hime from Miazaki’s Princess Mononoke film, and it was my favorite costume), but my camera fell down and didn’t work properly any more after that. I was quite sorry about that, but enjoyed the costumes nonetheless.