Sunday, June 10, 2018

Starsea Horizons

Hello, friends. It’s been a good long while since I posted anything on any of my blogs. Not even the Surface of the Sun one where I rant about stuff all the time. Twitter has become my new outlet. 😉

Yes, I am that author.

But actually, Twitter has a really good community of authors, editors, and artists. I love that about it.

But I do need to get back to posting about writing. Tumblr flash fiction doesn’t quite cover that. So here I am. Back. From outer space.

(10 points for everyone who laughed at my song reference.)

To get my re-emergence started, here’s a thing I wrote recently that ended up pretty cool. It’s a bit of fluff for a game world my friend and I designed.

The starsea is a sort of flat-world system with islands that float in a sea of stardust. It has two moons, a whole pantheon of gods and goddesses, and a strong seafaring culture between all the worlds. There are exotic lands, flying islands, and stardust monsters the likes of which few see, and still return to tell the tale.


“If anything’s to be said about the starsea, it should be that nothing else in all the worlds is so good at turning a simple man into a poet. At making a pauper feel royal, or filling a child’s mind with dreams of glorious possibilities.
The way it looks serene, but teems with perilous beasts. How it carries the living, but consumes the dead. Just like the queen of the gods, the Starsea is full of dualities. It’s a reflection of divinity.
I wasn’t a poet. I guess I still ain’t, cept when I’m up in the crows nest, and the stardust sparkles in the light of the moons. When all around me is quiet and crystalline and goes on forever.  
I can’t help feeling that my words won’t do justice to the vastness and majesty of that space between spaces. I don’t know as anyone’s could. But that’s the thing about the starsea: it makes you try anyway.
It fills you with a longing for far off places, and unseen sights. It makes you want to write all the words that ain’t never been written, and sing all the songs that ain’t never been sung. It takes you right up to the end of reality itself, and then, once you’ve seen the edge of all things, its currents carry you safely back home again.”

—Midshipman Freddie Stoneward, A.C.N. Valiant, 1867 BICR

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Good News

Excellent news, really. It turns out that not all of the introductory history was all that hard to fix. All I had to do was cross it out and write "Then, several hundred pages of irrelevant tangent happened."

It was so easy. Less sarcasm involved, of course, but there are worse things in life.

Here is my favorite of those pages:

Roran married Katrina, who was pregnant. For the first time in a long while, Eragon was happy.

Then Murtagh, Thorn, and a group of Galbatorix'smen attacked the Varden. Again. With the help of the elves, Eragon and Saphira were able to hold them off, but neither Eragon nor Murtagh could defeat the other. It was a difficult battle, for Galbatorix had enchanted the soldiers so that they felt no pain. The Varden suffered many casualties.

Afterward, several hundred pages of irrelevant tangent happened.

Roran served alongside the Varden, and he rose through their ranks, for he proved himself a skilled warrior and a leader of men.

Then, more irrelevant tangent happened, and Orik was chosen to succeed his uncle as king.

Eragon and Saphira returned to Du Weldenvarden, because they really liked flying back and forth from one end of an enormous, enemy-occupied country to the other.

I also rather liked this bit:

Because, I mean really, Murtagh had them beaten. Why the heck did all the bad guy armies just up and leave? Maybe I remember something wrong, but whatever. It still seems arbitrary.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Great Googly Moogly

I'm not sure if anyone got through the "In the beginning" section of this book. I had to try, because I was unwilling to re-read the first three books before I delved into this one. But I just couldn't do it. About halfway through, my eyes started to bleed. As bad as the rest is, this intro is THE WORST.

It may or may not surprise you to learn that I can not save this intro. Not if my life depended on it. (Well, at least not without the manipulation that a digital copy would allow.) Since I'm stuck with a printed version, where the sentences will remain in the order they were put in, I can only do so much.

Thus, I would like to introduce you to "The Sarcastic Re-telling of the History of Alagaesia".

Page 1:

In the beginning, there were dragons: proud, fierce, and independent. All who gazed upon them despaired, for their beauty was great and terrible. 
"All" meaning "themselves", as no one else lived in Alagaesia yet. 
They lived alone in the land of Alagaesia for ages uncounted, until the god, Helzvog, got bored and made the stout and sturdy dwarves from the stone of the Hadarac Desert. 
Then the elves sailed to Alagaesia from across the silver sea. Not, of course, to be confused with Tolkien's elves, who sailed away across the sea. 
They warred with the dragons. They would have destroyed the dragons, even as the dragons would have destroyed the elves, but they didn't quite manage it. Instead, a truce was struck, and a pact sealed between the dragons and the elves. By this joining, they created the Dragon Riders, who kept peace throughout the land of Alagaesia for thousands of years. 
A tough job, that. There were so many bad guys around... wait. Scratch that. 
Then the humans sailed to Alagaesia, from nowhere in particular. Around the same time came the horned Urgals, and the Ra'zac, who are the hunters and eaters of men's flesh. Now there are bad guys around. This is where the Riders keep the peace. 
The humans also joined the pact with the dragons. 
(This is where the history becomes relevant to the story.) 
Quite a long time later, a young Dragon Rider, Galbatorix, rose up against his own kind. He enslaved the black dragon, Shruikan, and convinced thirteen other riders to follow him.

I'm having fun with the sarcastic bits, but I can't decide if I'll do that for the real book part, or actually try to make it halfway decent. I may not be able to resist the temptation toward sarcasm. But we'll see.

I also don't know if I'll post too many full pages on here, or just give examples every once in a while. Also yet to be seen.

Till next time, peace out.

What Not to Do in a Series Finale: Lesson 1

The time has come at last! Finally, after much searching, I located a cheaply priced available copy. The red pens are warm. The bad prose is aggravating. The night is young. And off we go!

And just in case you didn't believe I was really gonna do it, think again. There is no turning back now. 

But what about that "lesson 1" bit in the title? Here it goes. 

Lesson 1: When writing the history of your world, do NOT start every other sentence with the word "and". 

Just don't. I mean seriously. Do you see the sheer number of blue arrows on this page? (Not to mention that run on sentence at the bottom.) And it's only the first of many! (Hehe. Did you see what I did there?) 

Needless to say, they will be the first things to go.

In summary: write like you're not a three-year-old doing show and tell.

Also, can we talk about how the dragons were in the beginning, and all who gazed on them despaired because of their beauty, but they lived alone for long ages before the dwarves were created... Yeah, so that happened.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

The Paolini Project

Never, in my entire reading career, have I been so disappointed with the ending of a series as I was with Inheritance. Granted, after Brisingr, my expectations were fairly low. But even then... *shakes head*

In order to rectify this grave dissatisfaction, I have developed "The Paolini Project". It will involve:

(1) Used copy of Inheritance
(1) Red Pen (unless more are needed)

Yes, my friends. I intend to do the unthinkable. I will desecrate a book. I will destroy someone else's artistic work in order to satisfy my own, personal agenda.

Why would I do such a thing? How could a book lover and library employee stoop to such drastic vandalism?

Well, like I said, worst series ending EVER.

But in case that isn't convincing enough, here are a few more reasons:

  • I own the first three in the series, and I like complete sets. But I just can not bring myself to own such a disappointing tome of uselessness.
  • Though I waited for YEARS to get some closure on this story, I still am not satisfied. I need some good resolution.
  • They forgot to run it by an editor before heading to the presses. The poor book is missing out on the good scrub down that most manuscripts get. We owe it to him. 
  • I work for free anyway. 
  • I'm seriously doing him a favor. 
  • Paolini deserves it. (See my diatribe below.)
  • Normally, the last book of any series is my favorite, because I love watching everything come together. All the clues and story lines and drama finally merge into one epic explosion of awesomeness. Or at least they're supposed to.
Mainly it's the closure thing, though. I just can't let it go. 

The Diatribe (Or, "things to address when I take my red pen to the book")

Have I mentioned all of the reasons why Christopher Paolini is on my black list forever? Well, actually I think I have. Several times. But I'm going to do it again. And if, by the end of this post, you are not convinced that my project is a most worthy and admirable cause, I shall here warn you not to read the next several posts. It may damage your soul to see what I am doing to this book.

1) Worst writing ever.

Here's the thing. Sure, Eragon and Eldest weren't the most amazing books ever. There were a lot of amateur mistakes and dreadful prose. And sure, it only got famous because mommy and daddy published it for him. But come on. The kid was 15 when he started writing a book that was good enough to make him rich and famous. And only 19 when it got published by knopf and became a NYT bestseller. That's cool!

And even more cool was the fact that there was a pretty decent story going on in there. I mean, no one's first-ever book is all that good. (Except for Rowling. And even then, HP book 1 is really not the best of the bunch.) But there was so much potential, and so much cool stuff. And it was pretty amazing for a 15 year old.

But books are supposed to get better, as authors write more. The ends are always better than the beginnings. The critiques, and the hard work, and all the publishing experience are supposed to mold a mediocre author into a decent one, and a good author into a great one.

At 15, it was awesome that Eragon was as good as it was. But at age 25 (after a ten year writing career), Brisingr failed to impress. In fact, the writing had already gotten slightly worse, because NYT bestselling authors don't have to make excuses for bad stuff or succumb to harsh editors.

And by age 28, when Inheritance came out, the writing which should have been an epic culmination of 13 years professional writing experience... well, it flopped. Bad. Inheritance is 800 pages long, and at least 300 of those pages are completely irrelevant.

I expect more from people who claim to be professional. I expect prose to be less painful than using "the sun slowly rose over the terminating line of the earth." What, you're too good for "horizon"?

One should always improve. One should not grow self-important and pretend like everything one does is perfection incarnate.

2) And yet... AND YET the first two were good enough that I needed to know what happened next. I needed closure. I needed to see how things resolved. Despite all of the imperfections, I NEEDED TO READ ON.

But did I get that closure? Nope. Was I satisfied? Nope. 13 barking years of writing, and several of me waiting for that writing, and I'm still sitting here dissatisfied.

3) Also, I never did figure out what "inheritance" has to do with anything. It's called the Inheritance Cycle, which would lead you to believe that Eragon would, at some point, inherit something. Mostly likely something important. If you know what it is, do tell me.

4) Timing. 3 years in between each book is not an appropriate time period for a hot item. 3 years is long enough that no one can remember what happened in the last book. It's long enough to feel like the next one must have gotten cancelled, and we'll never know what happens.

Yes, I know it's hard to write an entire book in less than 3 years (allowing time for editing and proofing.) Trust me, I really do know. But if I can write a semi-legible story in 30 days during nano, and if Rowling can write and publish six sequels and 2 supplemental books between 1997 (When book 1 came out) and 2007 (when #7 came out), and if the majority of authors in the world can keep their sequels to every 2 years or less, then Paolini could have too.

5) I have a theory that the timing was partly about work ethic. Rowling knew what it was like to have to scrape by. I know what it's like to have to scrape by (though not as a single parent on social security, like she was. I've got it way good compared to that.) But Paolini's never had a real job in his life. He finished high school at 15 and just bummed around his parents' house doing whatever he wanted and writing whenever he wanted and not having to care.

He never had to get a job to pay for food or rent or college tuition. By the time he was old enough to move out on his own, he was rich and famous. I watched an interview with him, once, where he admitted to playing video games way too much and not spending enough time on writing.

When you're publishing for an audience, writing is a career, not a hobby, and should be treated as such. It's unprofessional to take 3 years to write the next book just because you can, and anyway that video game was so awesome.

6) And then there are the numerous problems with the ending itself. The worst of which was the relationship thing.

Nothing in this wide world will anger readers more than watching a crush turn into a legitimate romantic possibility over the course of 4 very long books, and then in the last couple chapters "Oh, by the way, they can't be together because of this arbitrary reason I just cooked up last minute. Neener neener."

You just can not do that.

Ok, you can. It is your art, and you do make the choices. But if you want people to not hate you, you can not do that. There are only two viable choices in this type of situation. They get together OR some problem that has been cropping up over and over again since the beginning of the story has finally made them decide that it wasn't meant to be, and all ends bittersweetly. Arbitrary veering away at the last moment is contrived, implausible, and REALLY annoying.

Especially when it happens with all of the couples in the whole story. No one gets together except for Roran and his wifey, which really doesn't count because they were practically engaged when the first book opened. Besides, Roran is lame anyway.

But the point is, good story telling doesn't lead you on in one direction for a few thousand pages, and then suddenly jump into an entirely different game plan. Even the most wicked plot twists don't do that. When all is said and done, things should make sense, even if we don't like it. Inheritance's ending did not make sense.

7) Speaking of arbitrary conveniences, Inheritance is chock full of them. There are several times when interesting things almost happened. Really bad drama almost ensued. But at the last moment, some stupid little convenience cropped up that totally eliminated all the peril from the situation.

The most annoying of which is the part where Eragon and Arya get drunk on some special elven wine stuff. They're totally plastered and out for the count, when suddenly the camp gets attacked!

This could have been a very dramatic part. The two highest defenders of the camp get caught with their trousers down, and they have to not only try to fight while dead to the world, but live with the consequences when they fail. Every bad thing that happens will weigh on their consciences.

Oh, no! How will they fight like that? What will happen to the camp? Drama! Tragedy! Guilt!

Or, Arya could just snap her fingers and conveniently have a way to magically get rid of their drunkeness, thus completely eliminating any possible purpose of having that drinking scene at all. And thus causing the ensuing battle to become exactly like every other battle that ever happens in the past 3 books. Well done. Not.

I could go on for a long time about this, but I've gone on too long already. I think you've got the point.

Well, see you next time, with red pen in hand, on "What Not to Do in a Series Finale: Lesson 1".

Update: That is, if I can find an old copy. It's turned out to be harder than expected. Every store has all three of the others, but none of Inheritance. I can't decide whether it's because people actually want it, or because they wised up by the end, and no one actually bought it to begin with. 

Saturday, November 17, 2012


I've done Nanowrimo every November for the past several years.

For those who don't know what that is, it's the time of year where everyone who's ever even pretended to write a story for any reason disappears off the face of the planet.

Reason: Insanity. Complete, total, utter insanity. They're all hunkering down at their computers and tablets and notebooks, trying to force their poor, aching fingers to bang out fifty thousand words of a novel in only thirty days.

Do you know how much 50k is? Well, the average Young adult novel is between 60-90k. That's a lot of words in only 4 weeks. And if you don't think so, you've obviously never tried it.

The Nano people send out a lot of motivational messages, and most of them are really great messages. Words of hope and light in a time of gloom and despair.

But here's the thing. Whether we like it or not, at least 70% of the Nano participants will never be published novelists. (Maybe more.)

Sure, grouch at me for being a naysayer, but it's true. Most people write that novel during nano while still keeping a real life job or raising a family. And most of those people aren't going to change all that just because of 30 days of literary insanity.

So what's the point? Why bother?

Well, the interesting thing about Nano is that it holds a learning opportunity for someone in any field. I'd venture to say that the crazy days and late nights are always worth it, even if that novel never sees the light of day. Even if it's terrible. Even if it's the worst literary creation since 50 Shades of Grey  the beginning of time.

Here's why:

This year's Nano has been my awesomest ever. I am kicking everyone's butts, and it's making me feel like I rule the world. (Literally, I am crushing all of you!!) Even if you never publish your novel, you accomplished something crazy. Like literally, bats in the belfry crazy. And you rocked it.

Everyone who's ever finished Nano is a tougher, more competitive person because of it. And it's not because it was easy. It's because it was ridiculously freaking hard.The only side-effects are increased self-confidence, richer imagination, and fuller lives. (And maybe a caffeine hangover.)

Thus it is in the non-literary world.

One of the craziest, and awesomest, things about humankind is that we have this built in competitive gene that makes us rise above disaster, overcome trials, and never give up.

We all have that ability. But sometimes we feel like it's pointless.

Guess what. It isn't.

If there's one thing I've learned from Nano, it's that you absolutely, no questions about it, always have to keep fighting harder. No matter what.

You'll never be anyone if the competition cows you. No dreams come true. No goals get reached. Nada. Zilch. ничего. Niente. Nichts. Rien. Naught.

Make the competition build you up. Force it to make you fight harder. Let those hard things make you stronger.

Do Not let the hard stuff squash you.

When something comes at you, don't be the person that they peel off the floor. Make them drag you out kicking and screaming.

We can't always control whether we win or lose. We can't even control what said trials are, most of the time. But we can control what it turns us into.

"Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. There are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winningest-winner of all.
FAME! You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV. 
"Except when they don't.
Because sometimes they won't.  
"I'm afraid that sometimes you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you." 

So what's the point? Why bother?

Well, the only side-effects are increased self-confidence, richer imagination, and fuller lives.

You're a tougher, more competitive person. You're stronger and better and more confident.

Keep in mind what the point of it all is, and you'll never be a failure.

Go out and accomplish something nuts. Something totally, absurdly, completely, insanely impossible. And even if you never get published, or never make CEO, or never star in a blockbuster movie, you'll never regret it.

"And will you succeed?
Yes! You will indeed!
(98 3/4 percent guaranteed.) 

Go write a 50k novel in 30 days. I dare you.

I double dare you.


Ready... Set... GO

be your name Bubaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'shea
you're off to great places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting
So... get on your way!"

Sunday, July 22, 2012

The Ultimate #1 Reason Why Scared-of-chick-flick Guys Are Idiots

What you get when you watch sports and stupid guy movies:

What you get when you watch something cute:

Or at least get her opinion on the matter:

Think about it.

** Addendum: Yes, yes, I know. There are girls who truly enjoy watching sports.


If you want this:

Then tread carefully. When taken to inconsiderate extremes, sports, exactly like video games, will annoy the living daylights out of your wife, no matter how much she enjoys football. Therefore, my point still stands. 

Watch them WITH her, not INSTEAD of her.