Well, the journey to Calgary, Alberta is over and done, and I’m back home on Vancouver Island. My book signings at Indigo and Chapters were very successful, and I’m grateful for the assistance I received from good friends and the amazing staff at both locations.
You may be wondering…what now? Will it be a quiet year or two until the sequel is ready?
Currently I’m working on some consignment options here on the island, as well as expanding online interest in Crystal Promise. The Funferblog will still be active as I plug away at the sequel, and I’m still mulling over what to do with Chasing Lucifer.
It’s a long road, working on becoming a career author.
I was going to write a long-winded essay about the importance of characters & motivation with regards to plot, but it kept coming out sounding like a rant, so instead I’m just going to give you a fun preview of what I’ve been working on: an excerpt from The Shattered Crystal, Book II: Crystal Empire (working title)
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It was no bigger than his hand, but at that moment it was Boy’s entire world. Its legs were proud and straight, knees together. Its body was smooth and well-worn, but it held a resolute grip on the tiny black longwand in its hands, brought to shoulder level and ready to dispatch any threat. The paint had worn off most of its face, leaving a pair of black eyes that spoke of grim determination, of old battles hard-won.
Its uniform was an old one – not the blood-red of the imperial soldiers or the dull grey of the new republican army, but a sun-faded New Kingdom blue. Boy didn’t know anything about uniforms or Noven politics, but he spotted a tiny painted medal on the tin soldier’s left breast, and he knew that he was holding a man of exceptional courage.
The tin soldier marched across the warped wooden floor, to a drum beat that nobody else could hear. He was drilling, preparing for battle. Boy decided that the soldier’s name was Leo. Leo meant lion, Bruno had told him once, and lions were brave.
He could feel the eyes of the other children watching him as he played with Leo. They were talking about him in a gaggle of voices, but he kept his eyes on the tin soldier marching across the floor. He didn’t want to look at them, because then they might come over. Boy wanted to play by himself.
Leo was shooting at imaginary soldiers coming up over the crest of the bump in the floor. In Boy’s mind they had green-and-mustard uniforms and funny metal helmets, and they yelled threats in a strange gibberish language. Leo remained undaunted. He stood his ground and aimed carefully, shooting them down as they came.
“Oh no, there’s more of them.” Boy had to speak for Leo because Leo didn’t have a mouth. “Better use my crystal grenade. Boom!”
“Hi, soldier,” a girl said. Boy froze. Standing beside Leo was a cloth doll covered in dirt smudges, wearing a red summer dress. Most of her hair had fallen out, and the stitching was loose on one foot, letting a bit of puffy cotton stuffing poke through.
Leo didn’t speak, so he had nothing to say to the doll. He continued shooting at the oncoming soldiers.
“Quick, let’s escape to my house,” the girl said as she made the doll prod Leo with a filthy, fingerless hand. “You can protect me with your gun.”
Leo backed up. He didn’t talk to girls. He didn’t talk to anybody. Boy shied away and pressed his back to the wall. Bad things happened when he spoke to girls.
“Are you going to live here?” the girl asked. Boy bit his lip and chanced a glance at her.
Her round, rosy-cheeked face was dirty and she wore a ratty old patchwork dress. She looked remarkably like her doll, except that she had hair – lots of it. The dark curls were almost down to her waist. Boy stared at her wordlessly. Leo took a bold step forward on the floor and bowed to the doll.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Leo,” he said. He didn’t want to admit that everybody just called him ‘Boy’.
The girl’s eyes widened suddenly. “Drop the toy,” she said.
Boy frowned and tightened his grip on Leo. She wasn’t interested in him; she just wanted to steal Leo away.
“Drop it now,” she urged. “Bernardo is coming.” A shadow passed over Boy and he turned his head to see a taller, older boy staring down at him.
“That’s my toy soldier,” the other boy said as he pointed with a fleshy finger. Boy clutched Leo to his chest protectively. He’d never owned a real toy before. He looked to the girl for support but she was staring at her shoes.
“Give it back,” the taller boy insisted. He clutched at Boy’s wrist and tugged. Although Boy was not as big as the other child, he kept a firm grip on Leo. Boy shut his eyes tightly and an angry moan escaped from his lips as fat fingers dug deep into his wrist. With his other hand, Bernardo tried to pry open Boy’s fingers.
“No, it’s mine!” Boy screamed. The tug-of-war continued.
“Stop it, Bernardo!” The girl had to shout to be heard over Boy’s screaming. “If Matilda hears, we’ll all get a beating.”
Bernardo wasn’t convinced. Instead he turned his attention to the girl and sent the back of his fist across her face. She fell to the floor and wailed.
Leo had to protect her. Instead of pulling away, he suddenly lurched forward. Bernardo was caught off-balance and lost his grip as he fell. Boy landed on top of him. Clutching the tin soldier like a weapon, he bludgeoned Bernardo in the face. Bernardo punched Boy in the mouth, but he barely even felt it. All around him, children were screaming, crying or staring – in his peripheral vision he could see them all, an audience to Leo’s righteousness. A good soldier protected the weak.
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