Category: Archive

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

I’m working on the first draft of Road with a goal of hitting “The End” by the end of May. Since this is the second in a trilogy, I’m not going to be able to share a lot without giving away huge spoilers. So I will edit these for content to hide certain facts that I don’t want you to know until you read Rose. I know, I’m wicked.

Dharman and Sal are two young men (Dharman’s the oldest at age 15) and they’re making a bit of a nuisance of themselves. Shannari doesn’t quite know how to handle them, but right now, they’re the least of her worries.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a Blood and Shadows world snippet without some Gregar action…

Dharman and Sal had been joined by a third boy with golden hair that glinted in the sun. Grazing nearby, Wind nickered softly, pressing her soft muzzle into Shannari

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

Continuing the discussion from yesterday, yes, I’m still reading the problem book and I’m getting madder. According to a very reliable source, I’m going to be even more pissed once I read the ending, and it has NOTHING to do with whether or not there’s a HEA. I could care less. Seriously. I was all set for this book to NOT be a romance. Whether or not HEA happens has nothing at all to do with my overall enjoyment–or more likely dissatisfaction–with this book.

Let me just get one more thing off my chest.

Riddick is an anti-hero for a reason. Yes, he was going to leave the settlers behind in Pitch Black. He had that power. He didn’t have any moral obligation to them–all he cared about was himself. He chose to go back, not because he felt like it was the right thing to do, far from it. He went back because he could. Because he was the only one who could. That’s why he’s an ANTI-hero. (Yeah, he’s also a murderer, but I still think he’s an incredible character.)

One cannot have a HERO make that same kind of decision and have me believe they’re heroic. A hero cannot leave people behind. I don’t care how scared they are. I don’t care how many times they think “I’m not heroic. I’m not.” YOU, the author, TOLD ME this person was heroic by setting the character up as the protagonist of the story. I don’t care if the hero then has a change of heart and does save said people. I don’t care!! IT’S TOO FRICKING LATE.

Said hero is done for me.

What’s even more alarming? The one left behind was the LOVE INTEREST. I’m supposed to believe they care about each other? Instead, I’m staring at this book like Imhotep at the end of The Mummy Returns as his beloved turns and runs, leaving him to die. Yeah. Real heroic, hun.

Now such a set up might work as backstory — and then the book is about how the hero overcomes this past and grows beyond it. But when such a thing happens live action in the book and then I’m supposed to believe the character grows in the last 100 pages or so? It’s not happening. Sorry.

I’m going to finish the book because I want to see how badly it all ends.

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

There’s a certain kiss of death for me as a reader when I hit a point in the book that makes me STOP.

I’m not talking historical inaccuracies (not sure I’d pick one up unless it was blatant) or poor writing (although definitely that’s a show stopper for me, I typically figure out the author’s style isn’t for me very early). It’s something much more insiduous.

Choices.

I’m reading a book right now that I started on the plane home. I was enjoying it, although it wasn’t as emotional as The Duke of Shadows (which is totally okay–I don’t want every story to be a tear-jerker). The book is different and exciting. It had quite a lot of buzz. I enjoyed the new-to-me author’s style.

Until a certain choice the protagonist made.

I was surprised. I had this expectation built up within me that this book was different. It wouldn’t fall into the same old genre traps. And so when it DID, I was stunned. My expectation was utterly dashed, and now I’m finding it difficult to get back into the story. I still like the characters, the world, the style, but it’s just not the same.

I guess I lost my rose-colored glasses. Or…maybe I was forced to put them back on.

I hate rose-colored glasses. I really do.

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

In which I embarrass myself with a revolting coffee story…

As you know, I was in St. Paul all last week for the Evil Day Job. Since I left Sunday morning at 4:30 a.m., I didn’t have time to wash my pot out before leaving. That Man doesn’t drink coffee unless I make it, so my pot sat empty until Saturday when I eagerly rushed to the kitchen to make my home-brewed Caribou.

I washed the pot parts out well and started the brew. I had two kinds of half and half in the fridge: regular and fat-free. I’ve been drinking the fat free and sniffed it carefully before using it, since the container was nearly empty and dated 4/22. It smelled fine. The regular half and half hadn’t been opened yet, so I cracked it open to extend my fat-free stuff (what I’ve coined “half-half-half”). I sat down with my favorite cup, and…

It was nasty. Ugh. It tasted rotten. We had errands to run (like picking out the monsters’ Build-A-Bear toys) so I didn’t make any more until that night. Even after washing the pot again, it still tasted revolting. I was really starting to panic. I hadn’t even been able to drink a full cup yet! (Considering how much I typically drink, I was nearly ready to declare a national emergency.)

Sunday morning, I took the pot apart again, filled the sink with scalding hot water, and let it sit in soapy water while I examined the pot carefully. Jokingly, I told That Man to look for a dead mouse or something in my pot. It tasted that bad. Princess Monster offered to bring me a cup when it was done, which I gratefully accepted. She came rushing in with half and half dripping down her chin, her face faintly green. “Mom, this stuff tastes horrible.”

(Ah, the truth comes out. She only offered to get me a cup so she could sneak a drink of my cream directly out of the carton!)

I took a whiff and UGH. It was so totally rotten. I never thought to check the real half and half because I hadn’t even OPENED it yet. It was dated May. Somewhere, somehow, that carton got too warm.

Gag.

It’s almost enough to turn me off half and half completely.

Almost.

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

I was hoping to get 10K last week while in St. Paul for work, but that didn’t quite happen. I did get up around 4:00 a.m. most days, and worked hard to write and not goof off on the internet or e-mail. Combined with the weekend’s count, I made almost 7K words last week.

For the month (including today), I’m at 19,930 words. I really wanted to hit 30K this month, so I’m setting a firm goal for myself. 1K a day for the rest of the month. I’ve got tons of story to get through in Road, and another round of Beautiful Death edits are likely by the end of the month. We’ll see how much I can get done. I promised Deena she’d have Road by July, so I must get this first draft done by the end of May to give myself time for edits in June. If anyone wants to beta read Road once I finish it, let me know.

(Sis, I’ve already got you on the short list, as always!)

Looking forward to reading about everyone’s experiences at RT this past week!

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

Back in 2006, Lynn Viehl challenged her blog readers to write and give away a free e-book (complete list of participants here). The Horse Master was my contribution.

I wrote it for a rather selfish reason: I wanted to explore how two separate lines of the Green Land monarchy had originated, one “Shadowed” and one legitimate, generations before Shannari’s story in The Rose of Shanhasson. I hadn’t written a single Keldar story yet (I knew Keldar involved deserts and dragons, and that’s truly it), but Jake insisted that’s where he was from. I didn’t know what tellan meant when I made that his tribe name. I didn’t know about Chanda’s curse or Agni’s Coming.

The Horse Master started it all.

I’ve had so many people tell me that they read and enjoyed that story and then went on to pick up the other Keldari novellas at Drollerie Press. When Jayne reviewed The Fire Within, several people mentioned that free story, including Patricia Briggs! *squees* How amazing is that?

So here’s another huge thank you to PBW for starting that challenge, and here’s a big hooray for free reads!

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

No issues getting home from my jam-packed trip to St. Paul for work. I think we fell into bed around midnight last night, which makes for a long day. I’ve got a load of laundry going, the monsters picked out their Build-A-Bear animals (so I didn’t have to bring home goodies on the plane), picked up the dog from the kennel (That Man refuses to keep him home if I’m not here), and I even made a trip to Bath and Body Works at the mall.

What a great trip. I miss Minnesota already. I definitely miss Wanda and all my friends and co-workers. Sigh. Sis, I think I could use a hug!!

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

Week 1
Week 2
Week 3

This is it, gang. I thought I might get one more section of this little story, but Gregar is tired of remembering the past and he dreads the future even more. He much prefers where…and what he’s doing…in Road. So this is the final snippet of The Shadowed Blood.

I would have her live at any cost.

How arrogant and grand a promise when he did not yet know the cost. Sitting on the sandy shore, Gregar stared out over the silvered waters and fought. He fought his pride, his honor, his gift of Death, even his love.

If his control slipped a single moment, he would kill her. Yet he could not bear to let her go. Rocking slightly, he rolled the rahke back and forth across his palm, watching the moonlight gleam on the ivory.

Such a terrible cost. He had thought seeing her alive and well would be enough, but he had not expected her to go to another warrior, let alone his friend, while he was forced to watch from afar, silent and unapproachable.

She may never know your love.

The waters rippled but no breeze stirred his hair. Crystal water clouded to a shadowy murk, sinking within itself to reveal a window. One glimpse of the woman

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

Jayne at Dear Author gave The Fire Within a great review here. About Keldar, she says:

There

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

This was fun. I used to type 120 wpm back in high school. I might have done better without the laptop keyboard. I’ve taught myself to be a little more careful because my finger tips catch under the key and pop it off. (I broke “k” off entirely on the old laptop.) How fast do you type?

105 wordsSpeed test

Link courtsey of Michelle.