Sunday, May 17, 2015

Finished! The Rise of Lord Sinon

Well...sort of. The manuscript for The Rise of Lord Sinon is complete at a little over 94,000 words. The 'sort of' comes in because now I must edit.

When I write, I edit as I go, so this job is not as difficult as it is for some. I know that there is one chapter in particular that I want to write from a different character's POV, other than that, minor stuff.

I have an awesome online critique group. I have been submitting two chapters at a time to them already and many of us submit the whole ms. when it's ready so I will do that.

I am a little behind on my critiques for this group so I'll catch up before I start my own editing. Once I have edited, submitted to critique and fixed anything I need to then I'll hire an editor and look for an illustrator. I want to re-do the book cover on The Treasures of Carmelidrium too by the same artist, just so there is a flow between both books visually.

I hope to release by the end of November. Look for future announcements.

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Insecure Writer's Support Group: Mom

Greetings. Another first Wednesday of the month and thanks to Alex J. Cavanaugh another IWSG post.

For the last five years or more I have thought come January 1st, that things couldn't possibly get worse, and yet they do. I have faced one adversity after another, sometimes thinking I wouldn't make it through. But in every situation from nearly dying to being homeless and many more I haven't posted about, I give my heavy heart and the desperation to Jesus. What can I say? Without God I surely would have perished by now.

At this writing I am faced with yet another heavy loss and have cried more than once. Yesterday, I saw my mother for the last time in her lifetime. Today, by the request of her husband, his son is flying them to Seattle, Washington where they will live out their lives. My mother has congestive heart failure along with a host of medical conditions related to that as well as other problems. She is 92 and will be 93 in June. In addition, she has dimenshsia. In the last two weeks, she's been in and out of the hospital twice. She's on oxygen and a special diet. Her husband is in complete denial over her condition and wants to control the situation which includes eliminating her diet needs and oxygen and has told her she won't need them in Washington. If she survives the plane trip it will be a miracle. Not so much from the high altitude, but from exhaustion.

So there you have it, a source of diblitating anxiety and worry. Yesterday, I told her that I loved her and nothing could separate us from our love. She did likewise. That is my comfort. Last night I couldn't write.

So how did I fill the three hours of our last visit? By keeping things positive. I told her how tulips bloom in Washington in February. I told her about a TV special I saw about bird island and described different birds to her. She is a published author too, so I told her about my current WIP and showed her my published work on my kindle. We talked about my childhood experiences. My husband was with me so my mom talked to him too. Her memory is such that sometimes she mixes up current events she's seen on TV with things she did as a child. That can be a challenge. She told me she needed to get back to writing. I agreed with her, after all, writers are writing even in their heads all the time.

Today, I will continue to write, I'm almost done. I will read the submissions from my critique partners. But my heart and thoughts are flying to Washington.


To read other inscure post go here

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Insecure Writers Support Group; Housing

Greetings. In the last five years I've been through a lot. We lost our home but rescued it in a short sale so we didn't suffer a foreclosure. That procedure took 4 years alone. I published my books, see side bar. I lived in a roach and black mold infested apartment and nearly died. My doctor said break the lease or die. We did. The apartment evicted us and came after their money. We won the court case and they were told to remove the eviction from our credit report. Now we were turned down for an apartment because of the eviction and that we owe too much money since Bank of America hasn't removed their lien on us, illegal on their part. Fortunately we have all the legal documents. Unfortunately, our current landlord gave us two weeks to move. We aren't the only ones. The parking lot is full of rental trucks. The landlord is turning these units into section 8 housing. For non Americans, that means the apartments will be rented to poor people who need government assistance to live. The landlord will then charge the government $1,300.00 a month. He currently gets $850.00 a month. Do you smell a skunk yet?

We were turned down for an apartment due to the above mentioned foreclosure and lien. No apartments are available until May. Those fly by night motels want $70.00 per night or $350.00 per week. We don't have enough unless we don't pay our bills and give up eating.

Are you out of breath yet? I am.

A year ago I was admitted to the hospital and spent ten days in ICU (Intensive Care Unit.) I almost died. Then I was transferred to a rehabilitation center for 5 weeks. People loved me because I was so positive.

All this, the struggle to live, only to be homeless. It sucks!

I've finished chapter  25 of my sequel to The Treasures of Carmelidrium.

Not sure if I'll have the internet to visit anyone. I'm writing this on February 28.

There where two things in life that I valued above all others. To be loved and have security. For me, security is a home. I married a man who was so abused as a child that he doesn't know how to love. He knows how to criticize. And I have no home. Panic is an emotion I'm submerging in boiling water to release myself from it's hold.

Sorry this is a downer.

To visit others who will be ore positive, go here.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Insecure Writers Support Group, What's Up?

Greetings all, it's the first Wednesday in February and that means it's time for IWSG, created by the thoughtful Alex J. Cavanaugh who is practicing his ninja skills even as you read this. But instead of flashing swords, he brandishes a guitar. If you'd like to read more IWSG post go here.

My name is Nancy and I publish under my initials, N. R. Williams. I'm too old but, I won't tell you just how old I am. Sorry.

I'm about 3 quarters of the way done with the sequel to my epic fantasy, The Treasures of Carmelidrium. Which is available as an e-book on Amazon. See the side bar. I could use some more reviews.

I bet I can guess what you're going to say. "I don't read fantasy." No problem, my book is easy to read for anyone. There's mystery and suspense, music, a villain and romance. Oh yeah baby. It has it all.

The sequel is long over do but I have a good excuse. I almost died. My recovery has taken some time. But now I'm whipping through the chapters at about five a week. Of course, once it's done I have to edit, rewrite, edit and then send it off to my editor.

The title is, The Rise of Lord Sinon and I hope to release it this fall.

That's my news, same as last time. What's up with you?


Here's a tease.

Warning: Includes a spoiler to the ending of the first book.

Lord Sinon Awiergan stood in the center of the Library at Château de Talaith. Coal from hell burned his stomach. High King Healden sat at an intricately carved desk in the middle of the room and had yet to look up from the study of a stack of papers. A grandfather clock on Sinon’s right ticked away at his nerves.
The oval room had a spectacular view of the west gardens and the stable. The late summer sun shone through multiple windows and splashed against the rich deep blue carpet. A circular wrought iron staircase connected the main floor to the upper interior balcony which supported grand bookcases. The rosewood dome ceiling finished the magnificent room.

            It was rumored that the windows had been imported from L'Amérique, the queen’s home world. Another time Sinon might have enjoyed the vast display of the grounds and gardens of the château, but at this moment his nerves cut him like razors. 

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Freesia's Dance, a flash fiction story.

Freesia’s Dance
Freesia lived in the gardens of Olympia square along with her faerie den. Her lovely pink droplets caught the early morning dew and the evening moonshine. Many colors of the freesia plant, which she was named for, grew in the garden along with magnolia and poppies. Part of the terrace walkway traveled around a rose garden while cherry trees flanked the water fountain.   
            During the day Freesia fled from the human caretakers of the garden through the portal. At night, when a concert played in the open shell shaped building nearby the faeries hid from the humans who passed through the garden on their way to listen to the orchestra. Once the humans had settled in with their backs to the garden Freesia ventured out. She was so adept at the human music she could name the instruments.
            “Violin, flute, piano,” Freesia said, naming the familiar tones. Lifting her chiffon dress in shades of green and pink she twirled rapidly into the air. Her butterfly wings fluttered so quickly their shades blended into a rainbow behind her back.
            With toes pointed, Freesia danced just above the plants that bore her name. She skipped to the beat of drums and summersaulted in mid-air along with the sweet notes of a flute.
            Many faeries traveled from neighboring gardens to watch Freesia dance. Her delicate moves inspired faerie artist and even the local faerie council adjourned their meetings early to attend Freesia’s performance. But…Freesia’s smiled belied her lonely heart. If only she could find a faerie male who loved to dance as she did.
Far away in the river bend lived a male faerie who was named for the moss that covered the rocks near the water’s edge. His hair curled all around his head I shades of green. When rain fell, his hair grew unruly and a visit to the faerie barber was in order. Other faeries in his den tended the tall grasses of the plains or grew mushrooms from the decaying roots of trees. Wild flowers were abundant and all the female faeries were named after them. However, Moss wasn’t content with his faerie lot. He didn’t want to tend the green plant that spread from rock to tree trunk. He wanted to dance.
In the summer when the cricket’s chirped and the meadow lark sang his song, Moss would dance above the river. He skipped over the rocks and dove beneath the water to ride a rainbow trout as it leap into the air after a fly.
Many of his male counterparts laughed at Moss. But the faerie females would often clap and cheer for joy at his achievements.
Once a human pulled their car up alongside the river and it was then that Moss heard human music for the first time. He longed to travel to a city where he might hear more music.
On a full moon Mosses den had a visiting faerie who spoke of a beautiful faerie girl who loved to dance. When Moss learned of her he packed a change of clothes and caught a ride with a dragonfly. They traveled over plowed fields of corn and wheat. Cottonwood trees lined the riverbanks. Large boulders sprang up and a weeping willow swayed in the breeze dipping her skirts in a pond.
Moss arrived late one evening, drawn by the most beautiful music he’d ever heard. He settled beneath a magnolia and watched with rapture as Freesia danced, He couldn’t help himself, he had to join her.

His wings were gossamer white, his clothing as green as his curly hair. He skipped on a magnolia petal and twirled in mid-air joining Freesia as she threw her arms wide and pointed one foot.  
Freesia stopped dancing when the stranger flew to her side. She backed up holding herself airborne and covered her mouth with her hand.
            “I am Moss.” He bowed. “I love to dance and when I heard of you and this place filled with music I had to come.” Moss began to dance to the swell of the orchestra. His face lit with pleasure as he twirled. Freesia smiled. A moment later she joined him. Delight sprinkled their faerie dust on all the flowers beneath them.
            As the evening grew long and the music became silent, Moss took Freesia’s hand and they flew to a private place near the water fountain.
            “I was born for this,” Moss said.
            “You dance beautifully,” Freesia said.
            They spent the remaining hours before dawn sharing their life story. Every night they danced. Their laughter filled the garden. The rocks near the fountain grew moss on one side. Fireflies joined dragonflies to light the plants and walkways.
            When autumn came and the music grew silent Moss remained. Winter soon covered the plants with a white dress. Spring brought the renewal of life and the flowers stretched their green leaves. Summer brought warmth and music once more to the garden and Moss led Freesia in her dance.
            On mid-summers night eve, Moss married Freesia beneath the cherry trees. “Now our dance will never end,” he said and sealed his love with a kiss.

Word count: 857

For those of you who are new to flash fiction, it is traditionally 1,000 words or less. This amount of words forces the author to tighten the story and often doesn't allow a long plot or in depth character building. I do hope you enjoyed my faerie tale. I’ll be posting new stories on the 20th of each month.