Tag: self-published book

What I learned at Pitchfest “book-to-movie” 2015 in New York City

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I had the honor of attending Pitchfest this past weekend in New York City. Pitchfest was a book-to-screen seminar where independent, self-published authors like myself were taught how to turn our novels into a two minute pitch and then pitch that idea to studio/production representatives from movies and television.

The event was hosted by Author Solutions, a company that provides services to self-published authors. They saw a need in Hollywood for the myriad of ideas from independent authors that was virtually unknown to them. That’s why they put together their first Pitchfest. Since then, they’ve done these bi-annually to get authors that two minute chance to sell their book idea to the silver screen.

With the expanding television audiences emerging from small, online production companies associated with Netflix, Hulu and Amazon, the need for new ideas is paramount. The guest speaker, Bob Kosberg, is known as the “King of the Pitch” and he was an honor to learn the business from him.

One of the most influential quotes he told us was by former Disney CEO, Jeffrey Katzenberg. “I the dizzying world of movie making, there is one fundamental concept … The idea is King!” That said, everyone has an idea or concept, but making it into a compelling story is what makes the pitch.

You start off with the set-up, putting your ideas to a particular genre, comparing it to other stories out there, like “this is Alice in Wonderland but set on Mars.” Then you go into the inciting action, what gets the ball rolling in your story, followed by an introduction of your main character. Here is where you being to really sell the idea.

Lastly, you have to lay out what’s at stake and then resolve the plot. All of this I two minutes, and they do mean two minutes.

We were put in what can only be described as “speed dating” as we walked into a room with several tables with one-to-two reps per table. One we sat down, the two minutes began and you started your pitch. At two minutes, the buzzer sounded and you shifted to the next table on the right. You had maybe a couple of seconds to finish your last few words, but then it was on to the next. You got up and shifted to the right, starting your pitch all over again to another pair of reps. This process continued until you end right back where you started from.

By the fourth pitch, my mouth was so dry I could barely speak, but I pushed on until I was done. It took less that 15 minutes but I made all my pitches. I’ll find out in a few weeks whether or not any of the reps want a copy of my book, then it’s really a waiting game from there.

As Keith Ogorek, Author Solutions Senior VP for Marketing, explained that the process was not a quick one. If a production company wants to option a story, they’ll pay an author between $500-$1500 to reserve the rights for a year to 18 months while they start developing the concept. Authors can offer to help by writing the screenplay or just wait until the project fully develops. It can take anywhere from 3-5 years or more for a project to culminate in a finished movie or television show.

A great example he gave was the novel Still Alice by Lisa Genova. It was self-published in 2006 through iUniverse. It was opted for the screen and was finally released in 2014 starring Julianne Moore (Hunger Games movies, Hannibal, Jurassic Park 2: The Lost World) for which she won the Academy Award for Best Actress.

I had a blast learning so much about the movie business, but more importantly, how to condense my novels in the Forever Avalon series into a two minute pitch. Why two minutes? It’s the average time spent in an elevator. So if you walk in an elevator with Steven Spielberg, you have your pitch ready to go. After all, it only takes one idea to make movie magic.

Forever Avalon is available for purchase at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. The Dark Tides is now available for purchase at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iUniverse.

I visited the Bermuda Triangle and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!

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article-2555006-1B574E5800000578-140_634x480Last week, the east coast of the United States was under a tropical storm warning as we awaited Hurricane Joaquin. Fortunately, it stayed way out to sea and barely affected us, but it did give me some inspiration. It gave me a great opportunity to talk about one of the “sci-if” elements of Forever Avalon and The Dark Tides … The Bermuda Triangle.

For those who need a little history lesson, the Bermuda Triangle is an area of the Atlantic Ocean between Miami, Florida, San Juan, Puerto Rico, and the island of Bermuda, more than 1,510,000 square miles of ocean. There are more than 1,000 recorded incidents in the last 500 years in that part of the Atlantic Ocean.

I’ve always been fascinated by the Bermuda Triangle. I remember a movie from the 1975 that I saw as a kid called Beyond the Bermuda Triangle. Of course, who could forget Leonard Nimoy’s TV series In Search Of, where he spent one episode on the mysterious disappearances in the Bermuda Triangle and possible reasons behind them. Next to the search for Noah’s Ark, Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster, the Bermuda Triangle is a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

Rifts_RPG_Ultimate_Edition_2005I even played a role-playing game, in my D&D days, called Rifts. The story was that Ley Lines, lines of magical every that crisis-cross the Earth, intersect in certain places (like the Bermuda Triangle) creating rifts or portals to other worlds in space and time. This post-apocalyptic game took us into the future. It combined sci-if and fantasy, for example, you had Elves that could hack into computer networks through jacks in their heads. Like I said, fun!

There are plenty of logical reasons why all these boats and planes disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle, from hurricanes to rogue waves, that can explain the phenomenon. I like to think that there is some truth behind the disappearances which is why I incorporated them into my novels.

Sure, aliens are the most prevalent theory behind the myth, but I like to stick to the magical. Using the Bermuda Triangle as a portal to Avalon gave the back story to my novel some credence. The people who survived the storms ended up in the shores of Avalon. There they either blended into the medieval society or died, it was that simple.

866683_f520One of my favorite tales from the Bermuda Triangle is the story of Flight 19. Flight 19 was the designation of five U.S. Navy TBM Avenger torpedo bombers that disappeared over the Bermuda Triangle on December 5, 1945 during a overwater navigation training flight from the Naval Air Station in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. All 14 airmen on the flight were lost. Investigators could not determine the cause of the loss of Flight 19 but said the airmen may have become disoriented and ditched in rough seas after running out of fuel.

I came up with a better answer … They arrived on Avalon. The flight leader, Lieutenant Charles Taylor, became an essential part of the Forever Avalon story. He was a mentor and friend to Bryan MoonDrake, the Gil-Gamesh, from the moment he arrived on Avalon. I originally meant for him to be just a small part of the back story, but in The Dark Tides, I was able develop his story as part of the character development of the Gil-Gamesh.

Whether you believe in the supernatural or not, the Bermuda Triangle will always be a place where sci-fi/fantasy authors can twist and turn their stories in any direction possible. Just be sure not to get lost in there. You never know where you’ll end up.

Forever Avalon is available for purchase at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. The Dark Tides is now available for purchase at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iUniverse.

Dreamers are the writers of tomorrow

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703.-More-Than-One-DreamIt’s funny how writing correlates to dreaming. Most people forget what they’re dreaming about when they wake up the next morning. As a writer, I find inspiration in my dreams.

Dreaming is the television of the mind, as I like to call it. It’s where our fantasies become realities. Daydreams are especially poignant. Edgar Allen Poe said, “Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only at night.”

I truly believe that day dreamers are the most creative people alive today. It takes that level of imagination to inspire one in art, writing, and other creative endeavors.

Daydreams are the most prevalent dreams we have. They have been the subject of everything from Saturday Morning Cartoons to an episode of “Happy Days” (the episode that introduced us to “Mork from Ork” played by the incomparable Robin Williams). I remember a “Looney Tunes” cartoon with little Ralph, who daydreamed his way through school, being a deep-sea diver after gazing at the classroom fish tank one moment to being General MacArthur when he leaves school promising “I will return,”

Dreams are the playgrounds of our minds, as the song says. As writers, we use it to cultivate the stories for our next chapter. The hard part for me is that, at times, my mind is racing through thoughts and ideas so fast that I can’t get to sleep. It’s especially difficult if I was writing just before I went to bed.

That’s the difficulty of being and independent author. You have to work at another job so that, at night, you can focus on your passion for writing. Unfortunately, it can lead to a few restless nights.

Dreams is your subconscious talking to you, in one way or another. It’s the creative side of your brain reaching out to tell you something. That’s how I originally came to write Forever Avalon.

When I was on active duty in the Navy, I had this recurring dream whenever I deployed. It was my subconscious trying to help me cope with the long separation from my family. It put me in a place where they relied on me, needed me, on a magical island out of time and space. In my dream, I felt closer to my family than any time before.

This was the dream that inspired me and led me to write the Forever Avalon series. Funny thing is that after I wrote my first story, the dream stopped. Like I said, it was my subconscious talking to me and I got the message, loud and clear.

edgar_allan_poe__by_ohparapraxiaEdgar Allen Poe said, “All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.” These are words to live by when you’re delving into your creativity and inspiration to create a world of fantasy.

Forever Avalon is available for purchase at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. The Dark Tides is now available for purchase at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iUniverse.

Editing your novel can lead to harsh cuts – A deleted excerpt from “The Dark Tides”

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SKU-000941753I hate to admit it but it took me almost six months to edit The Dark Tides. I was hard because, I got a little out-of-hand as I was writing it and it reached almost 228,000 words. I had to get it down to a little more manageable size, and that called for extreme editing. I found some places where I repeated myself and, in other places, I found sections of my novel that really didn’t add to the overall story.

This is one of those parts as I give you a glimpse into part of the story that would’ve been in this deleted excerpt from The Dark Tides. I like to call it “Ambush at Merlin’s Pinnacle” so, here you go!

***

The Avenger glided through the air around Merlin’s Pinnacle. The crew was on their toes during this part of the passage, as the air currents around the peak could be quite treacherous. The Gil-Gamesh watched his crew move like a well-oiled machine during the flight. Even Hunter and Andrew were pitching in, to not only be helpful but to learn more about the operation of the airships of Avalon.

From the bridge, Bryan looked down at the fog covered Arkengarth Vale and reflected back on that epic battle, his torture and recovery afterwards in Alfheimer. It’s moments like this that the Gil-Gamesh couldn’t help but feel his age. Though 60 was considered middle-aged for someone from Avalon, in Bryan’s “Outlander-way” of thinking, it’s near retirement age for most people. And with everything that happened over the past month, he was beginning to wonder how much longer he could keep doing this.

His 20 years on Avalon had been nothing but non-stop since he arrived. It wasn’t like it was unfamiliar territory to him. Working on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier was no different — fast paced, focused attention-to-detail, non-stop action-packed work for days on end. But the question remained, when this is all over, could he finally take a break from the fast-paced life he led as the Gil-Gamesh? Only time would tell.

Suddenly Bryan noticed a shadow falling across the ship’s deck. He turned to look skyward to see what could be casting it. High in the sky behind them, flying right in the sun, another airship closed in on the Avenger. Because of its position, Bryan couldn’t see who it was or why Captain O’Brien hadn’t acknowledged its presence.

“Captain, what’s that ship following us?” the Gil-Gamesh asked.

“It’s the Intrepid milord. Our lookouts spotted her about an hour ago, just before you came on deck. She appears to be following us into Idlehorn.”

“Has Captain Oldman signaled his course and intentions per protocol?”

Edan thought for a moment before answering. “No milord, he hasn’t. I assumed with the beatings our ships have taken over the past few weeks, it might have slipped his mind.”

“Never assumed anything Edan,” Bryan said as he reaches into his cloak and pulled out his spyglass lens. “Video Visum!” he chanted as the lens zoomed in on the airship. The decks were empty, even in the rigging. This was very disturbing to the Gil-Gamesh, especially for running this close to Merlin’s Pinnacle.

“Have the crow’s nest attempt to signal them,” Bryan ordered. Captain O’Brien relayed the command and the sailor manning the crow’s nest pulled out a pair of flags and started to signal the airship through a series of motions and signals. No response ever came from the Intrepid.

Bryan contemplated his next move. “Shall we fly up alongside her Gil-Gamesh?” Edan inquired.

“No, we’d be too exposed to an attack as we maneuvered into position. He’s got the wind in his favor. I have a better idea.” Lord MoonDrake raised his fingers to his mouth and whistled. “Maverick!” he shouted. From below decks, a tiny dragon whizzed past all the sailors until he reached the Gil-Gamesh. Faerie Dragons were quite small, less than two feet in length, but they’re also the fastest creatures on Avalon. Their wings resembled dragonfly wings, beating as fast as a hummingbird.

Bryan held up his hand and the little dragon landed on it like a falconer would. He stroked it under the chin, causing the beast to purr like a kitten. Bryan spoke to Maverick in the ancient tongue of the dragons. The Faerie Dragon growled and took off toward the Intrepid. It didn’t take long for it to come back and land on Bryan’s shoulder. The little creature grunted and growled to the Gil-Gamesh, garbled to everyone else but Bryan understood it perfectly.

“No one is on deck save for a single Brood manning the helm,” Bryan relayed. “He’s got to be planning a kamikaze run on us. He’s probably waiting until we get closer to Idlehorn.”

“A ‘kamikaze’ milord?” Edan asked.

“In the outside world, there was a world war,” Bryan explained. “When the enemy realized they were losing the war, they decided to take out as many of our ships as they could by flying into them, sacrificing themselves to severely damage us. They were called Kamikazes. It means ‘divine wind’ hoping their sacrifice would earn them a place of honor in Heaven.”

“Shall we beat to quarters?” Edan asked.

Bryan thought for a minute then decided against it. “No, if he sees any real change on deck, he may dive at us sooner than expected. He would cut us in half before we could change course or fire any shot off at him. This calls for something with a little more subtlety.”

The Gil-Gamesh got an idea and walked over to the rail. “Hunter, Andrew … Get your Lancers and get up here!” he ordered. The two young men stopped what they’re doing and headed below decks. Within minutes, they returned to the bridge with their Lancers in hand.

“Alright, time for a battle test of your new weapon,” Bryan began. “Behind us is the Intrepid, but its crew is missing and it’s being piloted by a single Brood. From the position they’re in, if we do anything to show aggression, she’ll dive right at us and we won’t be able to respond.”

“You think they’re going to ram us?” Hunter asked.

“More than likely, which is where you and your Lancers come in,” the Gil-Gamesh explained. “I need you to shoot some explosive dragonfire rounds into that ship, preferably up forward where the ammunition is stored. That should be able to blow it right out of the sky.”

“Just out of curiosity sir, why don’t you cast a spell to do the same thing? I mean, your spells seem to be more powerful than these spell shots could ever be.”

“That’s true Andrew, they are, but to cast a spell to travel that distance and be effective, it takes some time in conjuring. If he sees me performing any kind of enchantment, he would more than likely dive right at us. That’s why you built these Lancers, remember … Stealth with precision. To him, it’ll probably look like you’re looking at them through a spyglass. Now, get to it!”

Hunter and Andrew loaded the spell shots into their Lancers. They took position on the aft end of the bridge. “You want to aim about ten feet back from the bow ornament Andy, about halfway down the hull,” Hunter told him.

“Got it …” Andy retorted.

“Remember to adjust your second shot if and when he starts to react,” Bryan reminded them. The two men just nodded their head.

“On three …” Hunter said as he counted down, “One, two, three …” The two men fired simultaneously as the Lancers exploded with a loud “whoosh”, almost like a musket firing, as the dragonfire spat out, launching fireballs that grew incrementally as they travelled through the air. Almost immediately, the two men fired a second volley at the airship. The first two fireballs impacted right on target on the bow, causing a massive explosion as the Intrepid started to dive. Then the second fireballs hit, causing the ammunition to detonate, and the airship was reduced to burning embers.

Bryan steps up and patted his son and son-in-law on the shoulders. “Well done gentlemen, well done. I hate losing another ship but we can’t let them take any advantage over us.”

“The Lancers are more powerful than we ever hoped,” Hunter added. “Great job Andy.”

“Thanks … I just hope it will help in the coming battle,” Andrew said with due humility.

“Well, we may be losing battles like this, but in the end, we’re going to win the war. Morgana won’t know what hit her,” Bryan replied. “In the meantime, I suggest you start planning a training regime to teach our forces how to use them. You won’t have a lot of time to get them up to speed on the Lancers.”

“Don’t worry father. I’m putting together the best shooters from the Knights of the Round Table. These men are already quite skilled with the GunStars, so teaching them how to use the Lancers should be child’s play.”

“You might want to include Captain McLoughlin in your training,” the Gil-Gamesh added. “The Shield Maidens paired with those knights will have to be ready to adjust their tactics.”

“How much time will we have?” Andrew asked.

“Less than a week, a few days at most … I don’t expect Morgana to attack before the new moon, but I need her too. So, I’ll just have to give her a little nudge.”

“Is that a smart thing to do Dad?” Hunter inquired. “We should take all the time we need to get ready for this fight.”

“The problem is that if I give Morgana more time, it brings us closer and closer to the new moon, when the Dark Tides will be at its peak. That’s one advantage I don’t want her to have.”

Before he departed the bridge, Captain O’Brien stopped the Gil-Gamesh. “My apologies Gil-Gamesh, it won’t happen again.”

“Edan, I don’t expect you to be perfect. People make mistakes,” Bryan explained. “Just learn from those mistakes and don’t make the same one again. You get one chance from me, but do it again and you’ll be sacked so fast, I might not land the ship before kicking you overboard.”

Bryan walked right by Edan as he got a lump in his throat from the very ominous threat by the Gil-Gamesh. Hunter tried to reassure the young Captain about his father’s overzealous attack.

“Don’t worry Edan. Jupiter Antilles once told me my father threatened him on more than one occasion to toss him overboard. I’d say you were in good company.”

“I hope so Hunter. It’s just … I’d hate to be the first.”

***

The Dark Tides is now available for purchase at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iUniverse.

The most dangerous place to work in the world — An excerpt from “The Dark Tides”

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originalToday is Labor Day and I was thinking about the hardest jobs to do. One I can say with absolute assurance is the work done by the men and women of our military. As a veteran myself, I know firsthand the great job they do.

The flight deck of an aircraft carrier is known as “the most dangerous place to work” in the world today. Jet engines, propeller blades, jet fuel and explosive ordnance make for a deadly combination. You have men and women under 18 years of age working daily in this hazardous environment.

It takes strong leadership to make it work like the well-oiled machine it is. That’s why I made the protagonist of my novels in the Forever Avalon series an Aviation Boatswain’s Mate (Handler) or ABH. Chief Bryan Drake was such a leader, making sure the job was done safely and efficiently.

This excerpt from The Dark Tides demonstrates his strong leadership that took him from the flight deck of an aircraft carrier to the magical island Avalon to become Lord Bryan MoonDrake, the Gil-Gamesh of Avalon.

***

As Bryan walked down the ship’s ladderwell, he heard a loud commotion coming up toward him. Yellow shirts—flight deck aircraft handlers—were running up the ladderwell, telling people to get out-of-the-way. Bryan recognized one of the handlers from his division, Petty Officer George Rodriguez, but everyone just called him “Georgie.”

“Georgie, what’s going on?” Bryan asked.

“Helo 951 broke loose Chief; it’s sliding around on its rear wheel,” the Hispanic sailor yelled as he stormed past him. Bryan followed behind, heading toward Flight Deck Control to get an update from “the handler,” Lt. Cmdr. Derrick McGregory. “The Mad Scot”—as he is known to his sailors—controlled all aircraft movement on the flight deck.

Inside Flight Deck Control, Bryan rushed into a flurry of activity. McGregory was on the phone with the “Air Boss”—the officer in charge of air operations on Enterprise while others peered out of the small windows to get a peek at what’s happening on deck.

“Clear away from the window,” Bryan shouted to the sailors. “If you don’t have any business in control, get out now!” The sailor’s groaned and filed out as the Handler hung up the phone. His mustache twitched—a sign Bryan came to learn as trouble.

“Chief, the Boss doesn’t want that aircraft damaging any others,” he said to Bryan. “It’s already clipped another helo and a Hawkeye. Think you can secure it?”

Bryan looked at the Handler, tense and nervous. He’s always relied on Bryan for the tough jobs, and he knew it had to be done.

“Yes sir. Just give me Georgie, Bartman and a couple of blue shirts and we’ll lock it down.” The Handler picked up the sound-powered phone while Bryan grabbed a flight deck vest and helmet off a hook on the wall. He’d need the safety gear out on the flight deck, especially in this weather. George, Petty Officer Mike Bartman and two blue shirts—sailors who chain the aircraft down to the deck—arrived in Flight Deck Control.

Bryan finished buckling his helmet as he relayed orders to his crew. “Georgie, you drive the tractor. I want that bird hooked up and holding steady. Bartman, you guide him into the helo. Once that’s done, you two lock it down tight. Ready?”

They all chimed in at the same time. “Yes Chief!” Bryan opened the hatch to the flight deck, the wind and rain blowing them down almost immediately.

Once everyone is outside, Bryan moved his crew toward the swinging helicopter. Its rear wheel remained chained to the flight deck but its front wheels broke free, causing the aircraft to swing like a pendulum. Georgie and Bartman go around the island and start-up a tractor while the two blue shirts stayed close to Bryan.

The ship was listing heavily to right as huge waves crashed over the flight deck. The wind and rain added to the problem, making it hard for them to get good footing. Complicating things even more was the multiple aircraft around them, strained against their chains by the storm.
Georgie backed the tractor on the helo’s rear wheel and, with Bartman’s help, locked the helo down. Once steady, Bartman signaled a thumbs’ up to Bryan to send the two blue shirts in. Heavy chains hung on their shoulders, chocks in their hands, Bryan ordered the two sailors to get to work. He watched as the chocks were placed under the wheels and the chains are hooked on to tie the aircraft down.

Bryan was pleased with his team. He had a great group of sailors working for him. The blue shirts gave the thumbs up and they all started to celebrate, fists pumping and cheering, until without warning, things went from bad to worse.

The ship hit a big swell that caused the carrier to drop fast and list heavy to starboard. Bryan can only watch as Bartman slipped and started to tumble backwards toward the edge of the flight deck. He acted quickly to save his shipmate; without regard for his own life or safety, he dove after Bartman.

The momentum of the listing deck flung him through the air. He reached Batman and knocked him into the catwalk, saving his life, but his life saving gesture propelled him over the side of the ship into the water.

He hit the water hard and momentarily blacked out. His safety gear kicked in, though, and his vest auto-inflated. He rose to the surface and regained consciousness. The waves, wind and rain battered him around.

He saw the ship in the distance. The sound of “Man Overboard” can be heard, even with the storm. The ship started to turn around, but to Bryan it seemed to be getting further and further away from him, as if he was being pulled away from the carrier.

The waves continued to beat him about, practically drowning him in its fury. Bryan became disoriented and fear started to grip him … The fear of dying. He thought about Stephanie and the kids. He remembered birthdays, anniversaries and holidays as images flooded his mind.

Suddenly, he saw a glow in the sky. Bryan thought it was the light from a rescue helicopter, but the ship couldn’t have launched one in this weather. “Is this it? Is this the end?” he thought as the light grew brighter and brighter until it enveloped him. Bryan closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

***

The Dark Tides is now available for purchase at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iUniverse.

I wanted to be Carl Kolchak when I grew up

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Being a writer is something I really didn’t aspire too until later in life, but I look back and can see what inspired me to take it up. As I stated in other blogs, I wanted to be a comic book artist growing up, but when I focused only on art, I missed the writing I did in high school. That’s when I decided to join the Navy and become a Journalist, but the inspiration began earlier than that.

My wife and I were watching The Homecoming TV movie this past weekend. She was in the mood for something “Christmas-ee” so we decided to watch it. For those who may not remember it, The Homecoming was the TV movie that introduced us to The Waltons. I watched John Boy talk about wanting to be a writer, saying that he just wanted to write down what he saw that day because, “until he did, it didn’t really happen to him.”

Then it hit me. I remembered those words and, deep down, realized how much it resonated with me as a boy. Then I got to thinking, what else inspired me to be a writer?

at typewriter

Darren McGavin (1922-2006) as Carl Kolchak

The first thing that immediately came to mind was the classic TV series Kolchak: The Night Stalker. It was a TV series from 1974-1975 starring Darren McGavin (the grumpy Dad from A Christmas Story) as a reporter who investigated unusual, out of the ordinary and the supernatural (i.e. vampires, werewolves and witches) If anything inspired me to be a writer, it was Carl Kolchak. He was passionate about getting the story, even though it probably would never be published or get him killed, and he do whatever it took to stop the creature from doing any harm. He was fighting the supernatural before Supernatural or Grimm.

I idolized him growing up. I even remember writing a rough draft for a sequel where he was the editor of the INS (Independent News Service) and he discovered a son he never knew he had. The son has taken up where his Dad left off, investigating strange and supernatural events. The twist was his son used modern technology to fight the evil creatures his father decided to stop pursuing.

Another inspiration for me was the Lou Grant TV series. Ed Asner went from the comedic role in The Mary Tyler Moore Show and became a newspaper city editor in this drama series from 1977-1982. I remembered Lou Grant for his comedic wit and short temper. Watching him go from a TV station manager to newspaper editor was inspiring as the character evolved in this new role. The drive and determination he instilled into his reporters was exciting.

Today, virtually anyone can be a writer with a blog or self-published book. The technology of today has given inspiration to many to take up writing, either as a second job or even just a hobby. It was nice to look back and remember what made me a writer. It’s even better that I can relive the old days thanks to Netflix.

Writers are some of the worst serial killers (in literature)

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evil-personifiedWhat does evil look like? That’s a question that has dogged people for centuries. When you look back through history, images of Vlad the Impaler, Adolph Hitler, Charles Manson and Osama bin Laden come to mind. Then again, so does Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahlmer and Jim Jones.

I’m in no way saying I’m an expert on evil, but as a writer, you have to be able to dip into the darkness once in a while. How can you create a villain for your story without knowing the evil that lurks inside?

For most of us, evil falls back to the representation of the incarnation of evil … the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, Prince of Darkness, etc. Some writers try to make him sexy, human-like, attractive and appealing. I could never think of the devil that way.

I was raised a Southern Baptist, so I was taught that evil began with Satan; from his rebellion against God, to the temptation in the Garden of Eden and the first murder by Cain.

Evil, to me, is the absence of morals; a complete incapacity to see the difference between right and wrong with a total lack of remorse. When I watch news reports of James Holmes, the man who killed 12 people in the movie theater, I see the face of evil. They’re trying to call him insane, but I believe insanity is just the mind of a killer justifying their actions. It’s evil, pure and simple.

I can admit how uneasy I feel when I’m writing scenes that involve such acts of evil. In the wedding scene of my latest book The Dark Tides (caution, spoilers!) when Morgana Le Fay returns to Avalon, she and her compatriots kill many friends of the Gil-Gamesh. I cried as I wrote this chapter of my book. It was hard to write but a necessary part of the story.

I could never imagine doing something like that and here I was, writing about it as if I caused it to happen. To have that kind of emotional impact on me demonstrates just how writers are capable of tapping into the heart of evil.

Authors can be, at times, the worst serial killers in history. I’m sure Game of Thrones fans feel that way about George R.R. Martin. We must tap into that evil without succumbing to it ourselves.
I always thought the best portrayal of evil was done by Al Pacino in three very different roles. As Michael Corleone in The Godfather, Tony Montana in Scarface and as the Devil himself in The Devil’s Advocate. You looked in his eyes and knew there was a man in there but it terrified you none the less.

We can demonstrate the evil in man, in society, in what we write; but when you do that, there always has to be hope. Hope is the saving grace for the writer. Hope means that evil can be overcome, it can be conquered. Evil may win the battle, but hope means they will lose the war.

The Dark Tides is now available for purchase at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iUniverse.

Game of Thrones began the upward spiral of medieval fantasy today – My 50th blog post!

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Best-Fiction-TV-Series-Game-of-Thrones

This is my 50th blog post since I started writing it over six months ago. I can’t think of a better topic than my favorite subject to write about, medieval fantasy!

You have to admit that since Game of Thrones became so popular on television, there has been a gradual uptick of medieval-styled shows appearing on virtually every cable channel. As a fantasy writer and longtime Dungeons and Dragons geek, I have no problem with this. The more the merrier I say; but what I’m afraid of is it turning into the same old, blasé, run of the mill television.

There have been great diversity in storylines, using fairy tales (Once Upon a Time, Grimm) to historical renditions (Vikings, Tudors, Reign) to all out fantasy from GoT and Merlin to the upcoming Shannara Chronicles .

These shows have made superstars out of great actors and actresses like Peter Dinklage, Emilia Clarke, Colin Morgan and Ginnifer Goodwin to name a few. Almost all of these shows have multiple nominations across the board in acting, writing, best series, etc., in everything from BAFTA, Emmy to Golden Globes.

The trend is even building on Broadway where Wicked and Spamalot have garnered cult-like followings. Movies, YouTube fan films, graphic novels … I could go on and on. As I said, it has been building to this.

This growing trend is beneficial to me and others like me, who are inspired by flights of fancy in the realm of magic. As a writer, this is a blessing that could lead my novels (Forever Avalon, The Dark Tides) to maybe, one day find its way to  the airwaves; but it’s not something that will happen overnight.

As I noted in a previous blog posting, it took over 40 years for someone to finally bring Terry Brooks’ amazing Shannara Chronicles to television, and it looks like it will be worth the wait. The age of CGI and motion-capture, blending actors and actresses into these fantasy worlds so seamlessly, has made virtually anything possible in television and film.

I will be going to a great event coming in October. iUniverse is having self-published authors, like myself, work with producers and writers to develop a two-minute pitch of our novel. The top two selected with be able to pitch their idea to a Hollywood producer and have the chance of thier book being made into a film.

This is really my chance to sell someone on my passion for my story and the characters I have cultivated in my novels. It is a once in a lifetime opportunity so I can’t wait. I want you to see, flying ships, dragons, the Gil-Gamesh and his family up there, like you do when you read my novels. Wish me luck!

51nd6H6sATL._SY344_BO1,204,203,200_ SKU-000941753Forever Avalon is available for purchase at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. The Dark Tides is now available for purchase at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iUniverse.

When part of a story just doesn’t work – A deleted excerpt from “The Dark Tides”

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goblins_by_daroz-d5bww72When your writing a story, sometimes it can just get away from you. That’s what happened to me when I wrote my first draft of The Dark Tides. It really got away from me to the tune of 228,000 words. It was way too long and it took me months to edit it down to the still unimaginable 190,000 words.

As a writer, you sometimes state the obvious and sometimes you take really long stating the obvious. Here is a deleted excerpt from The Dark Tides to shed some light on how hard it is to edit what some writers consider their “baby” and don’t want to make another cut.

***

“Has any human ever been to see the Goblin King?” Bryan asked Eonis.

“No, never; not unless they were dinner,” Dinius quipped. “And I mean the meal, not as guests.”

Bryan gulped and wondered if he’d bitten off more than he can chew. He moved in close behind Ragnar as the other goblins closed ranks around him. They started their march through the dark, dank woods towards Idlehorn Mountain. They walked in silence, not a sound from the goblins or Bryan except for the rustling of the leaves beneath their feet.

After nearly an hour of forced march, they reached the base of Idlehorn Mountain. Bryan looked up at the jagged peak. It was an ominous and imposing sight. No trails or paths could be seen leading up the mountain anywhere. The only thing he could make out was the shape of a castle jutting out of the cliff … Lord Kraven Darkholm’s castle. Eonis said Lord Darkholm lived there to keep the goblins and other dark creatures under foot, or so he told King Gregor as to why he stayed in this God-awful place.

Ragnar walked up to the mountain face. He scratched across the rock with his claws in a strange pattern. Then he banged on the stone wall three times and stepped back. Bryan could feel the earth around him begin to rumble. Suddenly, an opening appeared at the base as the mountain seemed to literally fold in on itself, pulling the rock apart to reveal a cave descending downward.

“This is your last chance to back away … You sure you want to do this?” Ragnar joked.

Bryan nodded his head. “A friend of mine once said, ‘The Chief knows there is a time and place for everything; a time to act and a time to react; a time to speak and a time to be silent; and a time to unite or act alone.’ This is one of those times.”

Ragnar looked confused then decided to ignore it and press on. “As you wish Gil-Gamesh, follow me!”

As the frustrated goblin headed down into the mountain, Bryan’s cockiness faded quickly as he walked in the dark bowels of Idlehorn. Dimly lit by the embers of burnt torches, the cave continued to wind downward. Bryan felt the dank, musty air … The smell of death and decay permeated from the stone. The deeper they went, the worse the smell.

“I’ve smelled septic tanks better than this,” Bryan said, rubbing his gloved hand across his nose, hoping the oiled leather would help mask the awful stench.

The cave began to level off and widen. The stalactites became more prominent in the cave, decorated with the pierced skulls of their enemies. A bright light beckoned them ahead.

“Is it me or is it getting hotter?” Bryan asked himself as he wiped the sweat off his brow.

Bryan thought they must had an enormous fire burning up ahead. As the passage opened into an enormous cavern, the Gil-Gamesh realized that it wasn’t a fire burning … It was something else.

The cavern seemed to encompass the entire center of Idlehorn Mountain. A huge pocket, like a magma dome, underneath the mountain, as lava flowed like water from the walls. It fell and circulated in streams and pools throughout the cave interior. Not only did the lava provide light and warmth for the goblins, it made it easier for them to forge a constant supply of weapons for their massive army. Goblins had nowhere to call home except for the cave itself. They climbed along its walls like spiders in a web, able to move anywhere and everywhere in the cavern. They ate, slept and worked wherever they could find a rock to lean against or a piece of meat to gnaw on.

As Ragnar took them deeper into the voluminous cavern, Bryan got a sense of the social structure of the goblins. It was a society of “survival of the fittest.” The stronger, more powerful goblins bullied the smaller, weaker ones; an inbred form of slave labor. They were forced to carry heavy loads in the belief that it would make them stronger. The intense labor culled out the weaker goblins from the rest. Those that survived either continue their toll as slaves or they volunteered for experiments conducted by goblin warlocks and alchemists as they strived to make a goblin warrior that’s unbeatable. They were a collective, striving for the betterment of the goblins and the defeat of their enemies.

At the heart of the cavern sat a throne of iron and stone. It was a monument to the machine that was the goblin empire. The twisted metal frame and jagged rock reminded all who stood before it of the pain and suffering that is the life of a goblin.

In the throne sits a brute of a beast … The Goblin King P’tah Mnenok. His skin was black and scarred, ripped and torn by battle. His face was long and twisted, yellow eyes pierced out from dark slits. His fangs were so long that they pierced from beneath his lower lip, giving him a constant scowl, even with his mouth closed. On his head sat a crown of braided iron; a cold reminder of his black heart.

Ragnar approached King Mnenok as goblins came down from the around the cavern and surrounded the throne, trapping Bryan. For the first time since he arrived on Avalon, Bryan feared he may not live to see tomorrow.

Ragnar knelt before the King, bowing his head in submission before stepping up to the Goblin King, whispering in his ear. Bryan stepped up as goblins of all shapes and sizes moved in behind the Gil-Gamesh. King Mnenok looked at Bryan, growling under his breath.

“Does the courtesy of Avalon end at Idlehorn Mountain Gil-Gamesh?” he asked, his voice sharp and hollow.

Bryan realized his mistake and acted to rectify it by bowing slightly. “I apologize King Mnenok, but I am unfamiliar with goblin customs, as most humans are,” he explained. “I wager it is a rare sight for a human to be welcome inside Idlehorn Mountain that wasn’t a captive or a meal.”

“It is rare indeed. I must admit, what Ragnar told me of his encounter with you in Blackbriar Forest, I don’t see what all the fuss is about … About you that is, the new Gil-Gamesh.

“I must say, I’m not at all impressed but I do find it rather curious that you even asked to come to Idlehorn Mountain. This is quite a bold move on your part; courageous and yet stupid at the same time.”

The goblins all laughed at the insult the Goblin King levels at the Gil-Gamesh.

“With all due respect King Mnenock, I disagree. Is it stupid to understand your enemy? Knowledge is key to defeating any foe, something that goblins lack or so I’ve been told. Wouldn’t you agree? “

Mnenok snarled as the goblins were quieted. “Give me one good reason why I should not have you flayed alive right where you stand?”

“Gladly,” Bryan said as he reached into his shirt and pulled out the dragon stone Nihala gave him. The stone glowed bright in his hand. Mnenok and the other goblins, repulsed by its glow, cowered in fear.

“This is a dragon stone, given to me by Nihala, Queen of the Dragons. With a single word, I can cause it to explode, killing every goblin in here. A cavern of this size would contain the blast rather nicely. Your entire race would be wiped out in an instant.”

Now fear gripped Mnenok for the first time. He knew how powerful dragon stones were, but he also knew a bluff when he sees it.

“Are you impressed now?” Bryan joked, almost goading Mnenok to attack him.

Mnenok has had enough of his insults. “You would not sacrifice yourself? Avalon needs you to survive.” He raised his hand, ready to give the order to attack, as the goblins howled, raising their weapons to strike.

“You’re right they do need me,” Bryan interjected quickly. “But if I die, taking the entire goblin race with me, Avalon will be a whole lot safer. Surely that is a death worthy of the Gil-Gamesh of Avalon. They will write stories and sing songs of this day for years to come, knowing that the goblins have been wiped off the face of the Avalon forever. The only place people will ever see a goblin again is in story books. You will be remembered only as a thing of myth and legend that never really existed,” Bryan countered, stoic and determined. Mnenok slowly lowered his hand. He knew he wasn’t bluffing now.

Mnenok sat back in his throne and laughed a deep, throaty cackle. The goblins lowered their weapons and retreated away from the Gil-Gamesh. “As I said Gil-Gamesh, bold … Very bold!

***

 The Dark Tides is now available for purchase at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iUniverse.

Texting has ruined the English language for this and future generations

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People on phones with social media icon chalkboardIf you think about it, acronyms were the precursor for the shortened words we use in text messages today. These are, as I like to think of them, the death of the English language.

I doubt millennials could write a complete sentence without shortening a few words in it. You can’t talk about your BFF who’s SOL 2MORO without OMG ROFLMAO, LOL? But if you think about it, acronyms were just the beginning of these often used words and phrases.

The military is very bad at using acronyms for everything and, though military journalists are taught not to use them, they find their way into anything and everything. Speaking as a “DINFOS Trained Killer” I can honestly say acronyms are overused more often than not.

To give you an example:  When I was on active duty, I worked for the PAO at SACLANT, the NATO HQ in NORVA at NSA Hampton Roads, next to FFSC, SUBFOR, MARFORCOM and JFCOM. (If you can decipher every acronym in that sentence, post in the comments below. First correct answer gets a free ebook of my novel, The Dark Tides.)

Of course, writers are taught to spell it out and not use acronyms, but that still hasn’t changed the new acronyms in texting. Now that texting terms have been added to the dictionary, it makes it even worse.

Can you imagine Shakespeare using texting terminology to write his great plays? “2b? Nt2b? ???” “Romeo, Romeo _ wher4 Rt thou Romeo?”

Though many may dismiss texting terminology as cheat notes for an attention-deficit generation, John Sutherland, a University College London English professor, said “they could act as a useful memory aid.”

I understand the methodology behind that, but to me, texting is dumbing down a generation. English is slowly becoming a language where soliloquies and poems are a thing of the past. Short quips, sarcasm and verbal trolling are the new norm.

Mark Zusak, author of The Book Thief, wrote “The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn’t be any of this.” That speaks volumes about the importance of words in our lives, our culture, our very existence.

I remember as a boy, growing up in the 70s/80s, my parents and teachers telling me that slang was the beginning of the end of the English language. Those words were very prophetic as I look at the slang of today in text messages.

We are becoming a culture of 140 characters or less, losing the history of today’s generation to a megabit of data.