This is it the red letter day

Three years ago I started this blog to promote and discuss the writing of a story that became known as Heathen Hearts. In that time my granddaughter was born and my father died. It has been a struggle, many times against the mechanics of writing with a computer. Finding the time has been the biggest struggle because I work for a living  not to mention I live in a suddenly crowded house. No more sitting at the kitchen table with my imaginary friends!

This IS the Red Letter Day though. After all this time I have checked all Kindle's boxes and followed all their cues. Today Heathen Hearts has been published on Amazon.

 http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MIHUK7Q

On the one hand I want to go hide in the trailer and start writing something new. This story still begs my attention though, so I must find ways and follow advice on how to make this book, if not a household name...at least well read.

I can hardly wait for critics to start emailing me to say that there are no ship graves at Gamla Uppsala, or there was no monument to the victorious Soviet army in Budapest or the bus stop in Pincher Creek wasn't in the Black Hat Trading company at that time. My answer will be one word...fantasy! This is a work of contemporary fantasy. None of this ever happened and the characters never existed...sigh!

The same goes for any friends or family who think they see themselves in some of the characters. As I said in one of my early posts, a writer needs references. My wife actually gave me the idea. She was reading a complicated story with many characters. She flipped through catalogs and magazines to make cut outs of various people. These she named after the characters in the story so she could keep track of them. I went to not just on line photos, but my own albums for faces to reference. Not only faces but I used parts of names in order to keep track of the various actors in the story. I always meant to change them completely but the monster grew too big to go back through every chapter and change names. In the end, I couldn't because Alex was...well Alex and Lorne...Lorne etc. At one time I wanted to change Anya's name but found out that her name actually became an important part of the story in later bits. When Deedee is asked why she called her never to be born son, Hawk, she replied, "Because that's his name." And so each character became their name.
In the end these characters and places are works of fiction and bear no resemblance to actual places nor people living or dead.

Read the book for the adventure and the travel. Read it to solve or resolve the mystery. Is there a moral to the story? I don't know...maybe...life is what you make it. You only get the one chance. Go ahead and stick your head out of the window of a speeding car and take life full in the face. Just be ready for bumblebees...  

Troubles

Oh-oh....

It's almost too hard to believe. I had the story all converted into a file to upload onto kindle, I've finally decided on which cover to use, all I was waiting for was to get home from a two week trip to Europe.
Just when I was finally ready to do the long awaited deed...the computer packed in. Somehow the start up files are corrupted and the thing won't start. If it does it won't stay on any one page before it jams. I've taken it in but was told there was nothing wrong...after $125. It's going back today but if it truly is screwed...I will rebuild the file from the flash drive and the cover picture from emails and try to redo it on this laptop.
The only good thing about this delay is that I found that the table of contents for Part Two was missing. My hopes of being a published writer sting hang in the balance...

Ready To Go

As Winston Churchill  said;

“Writing a book is an adventure. To begin with it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public.”

Heathen Hearts is ready to be flung to the public...

I have the file all ready to upload onto Kindle. The only hold up is the cover page...and a trip to see my daughter in Holland.

Here are the top runners for book cover:

Maybe we'll number them one to four from the top to the bottom. If you have a favorite... you could let me know.

I will post when the dirty deed is done and the book is published.

Roman Ghosts

I saw a link to a Ghost story from York in England. https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=536711389758016&set=a.129237473838745.25079.113637412065418&type=1&theater

This reminded me of something I did many years ago in Northumberland.

We lived in a house along the old Roman road known as the Stanegate. This road was built before Hadrian's Wall, I can't remember now...60-80 C.E. Hadrian's wall was more around 122C.E. The Stanegate paralleled the wall or should I say the other way around, only further south. There were forts built every so often along its length.

Anyway, we lived between a village called Fourstones and one called Newbrough...pronounced New-bruff in Northumbian.  Newbrough had a pub which made it much more interesting. http://www.redlionnewbrough.co.uk/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=96&Itemid=178

To the west of town was St. Peter's Church which was built on the site of a Roman fort. The fort must have guarded the crossing of the Newbrough Burn.
http://www.northumberland-cam.com/churches/newbrough.htm

One November day I went down to the church and was sitting in an alcove, out of the wind when this event occurred...

On The Stanegate by Jack Kunst Newbrough, Northumberland 1992

The winter sun shines meekly

above the morning misty hills.

A westerly is blowing

through the valley where it wills.

 

Newbrough Burn, rushing swiftly

on its way to meet the Tyne.

Tumbles through the shadows

of trees, growing in a line.

 

The Sycamore and Beach

stripped of leaves and branches gray.

Reach up as with frozen fingers

on this cold November day.

 

On a flat beyond the rook filled trees

where the bridge spans o’er the burn.

A church squats on a smallish mound

as the Stanegate makes a turn.

 

 

Spread upon its sheltered aprons

‘neath the cedars and the yew.

The gravestones of those who’ve passed

glisten with winter’s dew.

 

Yet on this spot, this gentle slope,

in centuries long ago.

A Roman fort stood on the road

though few today would know.

 

For the Stanegate is an ancient track

built ages long before.

When there were nowt but scattered farms

of Celts along the Moor.

 

So it should not be surprising then

on days when winter calls,

to hear the echo’d cadence

as iron shod hooves approach these walls.

 

There’s a Roman on the Stanegate

his horse lathered, mud spattered and blown.

He looks across expectantly

to where his fort is overthrown.

 

They will not hear his urgent cry

nor the message that he carries.

All is silent in the churchyard

yet he lingers, yet he tarries.

 

Worry and confusion

crease the brow beneath the helm.

For he bears important letters

from the emperor of the realm.

 

Far off borderlands are falling

to tribes who murder, loot and burn.

Hence the call has come from distant Rome

for the Legions to return.

 

Yet, this solid four square church

with grounds of tilting stones,

stands coldly unfamiliar

to anything he’s ever known.

 

Now it’s a spiteful wind that circles low

and tugs along a fold.

And tearing back the mud attained cloak

bathes the soldier with the cold.

 

Flights of arrows his shield might break.

But his corselet of maile

or his sharpened sword are no defense

against the northern gale.

 

So with determined grimness

he pulls his red cloak tight,

as his weary mount cocks an ear

something’s coming, out of sight.

 

Horse and rider turn as one

to the unfamiliar sound.

Rubber tires on metal’d surface hiss,

heavy lorry shifting down.

 

The pony’s ears are twitching,

wind is ruffling his mane,

As he waits upon his rider

he champs his bit and tugs the rein.

 

But the Roman on the Stanegate

is still loathe to leave this place.

Where expected rest and shelter

have now vanished without a trace.

 

At length, the fast approaching din

becomes the final goad.

The rider turns his weary mount

and slowly heads back down the road.

 

The lorry comes and goes with a roar,

a scattered cloud of fumes and leaves.

In haste to make his distant rounds

driver sees not the soldier’s grieves.

 

Across the bridge and through the town

recedes the tortured whine.

Leaving just the winter wind to rattle

the Beaches in the line.

 

Then once again the old churchyard

is as silent as those who wait.

In their quiet tombs they will listen for

hooves upon the Stanegate.

 

 

Still At It!

This is just to let any reader know that I am still at it. I am working with an editor to fix those pesky spelling and punctuation errors that seem to slip by unnoticed. There are also some bits not essential to the story that needed to be shortened or dropped. It has been difficult to dedicate the time for this with a new granddaughter living in the house. I am continuing to work toward a successful conclusion for this project.

Publishing date? Nothing in stone yet but getting closer.

I have failed to keep a very important rule. First stories should always start with KISS. Keep It Simple Stupid! I have so many ideas for a straight forward story, why did I have to get involved with three time periods all intertwined?
It has been a struggle what with work taking up most of my time. I've been going back through the story fixing (hopefully) punctuation and names that were altered etc. I have been disappointed to see errors that I thought I'd corrected, still undone. What the heck? Is the computer not saving them once I've moved on?
I have found a possible publisher on facebook. I was hoping to have more of the product cleaned up before approaching them.

A sad thing and one I will regret is that my father just passed away. He won't get a chance to read the story although I was not sure it would be his cup of tea. I've blabbed for so many years about being a publish author, especially with this story, now he will never know if I did it or not. With the memorial service coming up and looking after resettling Mom, it may be hard to carry on. I know I must after all these years and I know that if I ever want to get to the new material, I'll have to be faithful to these characters and "get 'er done".

Here is a song for my father...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IU1rZa8Ur_Q&feature=player_embedded#!

The Reader's Report

As promised, the Reader from the Alberta Writers Guild has returned my manuscript, or should I say the first third. I must admit to being in a turmoiled state ever since. There were positive things, like; "I enjoyed reading this portion of your longer manuscript." and "Generally speaking, you write well. You have a sense of story, setting, character and pace." also "I hope to someday pull a book from the shelves in some bookstore or library and meet Mac and Loud Macleod in its pages."

This was nice to hear. As Mac would say, "An artist likes to know his work is appreciated." The reader also helped me to find the genre for this story. Contemporary Fantasy or Magic Realism is where "..."magic" intrudes or comes into context of a modern, known world." Although my story is fiction, it is not a made up world, built from scratch. It is our modern world where these events take place.

Of course, along with the complements came the meat of the report. I must say that many of the...problems, I was already aware of and realised changes/improvements were needed. Maybe it was reassuring to have picked these out before the professional. One of the obvious was spelling and punctuation. I was instructed not to trust spell check and I don't entirely. With more words than War and Peace, one is always going to miss something. The Reader was concerned about "rules" as well and recommended the book Prentice Hall Handbook for Writers. I looked it up on Amazon and it is a $100 book!

My main problem is the Reader's concern over perspective or point of view. While most of the writing is limited omniscient, only from the point of view of the main character, I have slipped "into the head" of my other characters from time to time and sometimes for only a line. The Reader feels I would have a "stronger story that relies on more showing and less telling". To be honest, the Reader may be right. It seems to me that it would be easier to go through the story and work out a way to show the other character's feelings than to change the view point to omniscient, and be in everyone's head all the time.

There are a few issues the Reader brought up, some actions by the characters the Reader found incredulous but my other major concern is the pace. The Reader thought scenes should be dropped to tighten up the story, keep the tension, to retain the reader's interest. Yes, there are things that maybe are vital to the telling, but...

In a book like The Hunger Games, at least the first book, it takes place in the time frame of a week or two. Many other stories have a set time limit. On the other hand, LOTR and the new version by George R.R. Martin, spreads months perhaps a year into seven volumes. I guess Heathen Hearts originally was a history. Mac Macleod is missing three years of his life. Anja, Gette, and their children are trying to fill in the missing years for Mac in about three weeks. A lot can happen in that time and while not all of it may seem pertinent to the main story, it shows that up to a point, Mac and others thought they were just ordinary people, with ordinary talents, trying to make a living in the music world. That is why, as the Reader puts it, "...you back off and seem to underplay the supernatural,...Your hints are too subtle to be convincing." My story and Emma Bull's War for the Oaks are two different stories despite any surface similarities. I'm sure she has her reasons for her pace as well.

I'll wrap this up by saying that I have a lot to think about. I appreciate the Reader's input and I am already taking it into consideration which was the whole point of the exercise. the Reader warned I would get emotional and that I should step back and think about the advice and the story before getting back at revisions etc. That is what I am doing now. Even writing this blog has made me think about what I could do to improve the product. I have had so other thoughts about the story and where it came from but I'll leave that for another day.