Tag Archives: YA
The Stories. The Stories. The Stories. We have all heard about The Stories. Enough.
When can I read it?
This sounds so amazing, I can’t wait to read it?
Wow! Can’t wait! they say.
The blessing is that these are real comments…from real people! :}. Since I’m going traditional and querying-another fact I’m releasing-it will be a while longer before everyone can read it, but I guarantee you-aside from my confidence and all the tremendous, most humbling comments and remarks from the few that have read the intro and chapter-you will be surprised.
The stories you read as a child? Only rumors of what really happened
“We are in the midst of a revolt.
But what are we fighting for?
Whatever is left of them, that is.
There is no vast army. No strongholds. No one is coming to help us.
There are no, ‘teams’.
Just us…and them.
Logos, I hate them…
We may seem familiar to you.
But you’ll notice things aren’t quite as you remember.
You grew up.
So did we.
You forgot about us.
Things have changed.
We have changed.
Who are we?
We are…The Stories.
In this epic fantasy…legends will be reborn.
As I sit here, listening to Demon Hunter’s “I Play Dead” I remember a very powerful scene I wrote in The Stories. My M/C is alone. She is small. Frail. She should not be able to contend with the beast-twice her size. Should she be vanquished…so be it. But right now…she will come face to face with the monster. She will choose to prove, if only to herself, that she can fight back. FULL EXCERPT of this scene soon.
For now we are the stories, huh? Who are the “stories”? What of them? Fairy tales? If only.
“Let the blood speak, child…”
L’orrah was just like any other child her age. She had no thoughts of the future or anything else beyond her beloved Grandmother Sarah and her close circle of friends she called family. She lived day to day, enjoying her quiet life with Sarah and always had the biggest smile on her face. Then..the unthinkable. Oh…the evil. She was barely ten years old when her life ceased when everything she knew and loved was taken from her. An evil wolf, the master, fought against her Grandmother, ferociously. Her Grandmother knew him. She said his name-Labadon. Sarah fought this beast valiantly but was no match. As her Grandmother lay, broken, bloodied and dead, L’orrah, having been left for dead herself, crawls through the mud and rain to be at her Grandmother’s side. L’orrah’s life fades quickly with each passing moment.
She awakens under a blue sky, drifting in and out of consciousness barely able to hear the two voices of the ones who came out of nowhere to help her stay alive. A month later, they, too,were gone and L’orrah, able to finally grasp the scope of all that has happened, slips into a black cloud of depression and stays near her Grandmothers grave site of smooth, gray stones. Unable even to open her eyes in the sunlight she chooses death once again, this time by her own hand. She can no longer function. She has no real reason to live. This child, this little girl of barely ten years of age, simply cannot cope.
That is until she unwittingly finds a great set of swords, hidden. They belonged to her Grandmother. They held no magic or special power. The power was in the steel. Greatly enamored by the smaller blade-the kopis-and deeply inspired, at least to find out why her Grandmother used these, why the white beast Labadon called her Lady Sarai and spoke of a great war-she sets out to simply-stay alive. When she first encounters a lone wolf from Labadon’s army, there is no prophecy to fulfill and all is left to choice.
Her life, wrought with pain. With loss and trauma. But she survived. No one, ever again will simply just do what they wish to her. She makes her new home in a hole in the earth…and emerges only at night to fight against herself and her loss. She decides she will be a force to be reckoned with and carries in her heart a mantra, her strength…the last words she heard her Grandmother say: Do. Your. Worst.
Four years pass and L’orrah is ready to walk into the greater reaches of the land in search of anyone. An old Friend, Sunder. A once mighty warrior. His two brothers. Maybe to find the bearers of the two voices that helped her so many years ago. To find the reason her Grandmother was murdered. Sure of her herself and her training, she begins her quest. Along the way, however, L’orrah finds that Labadon’s evil has devastated the entire known world…and a stirring within her, perhaps the voice of her beloved Sarah-calls her to arms against him. It calls from within her soul. A darkness. Her speed is unusual. Her abilities are nigh super-human…and the strange power inside her is growing…with every move she makes.
–“You always did love to stare up at the night sky, L’orrah,” Sarah said softly in her dreams.–
–“She knew she would be dead soon. So she closed her eyes and began to pray as Labadon continued his taunts. Her words were unintelligible, but she knew in her heart they would be received. Labadon continued to speak over her prayers, louder and more forcefully…mocking her shallow voice.”–
In The Stories, many legends of old are represented in an entire new light. My light. Carefully chosen. So that it wouldn’t be a case of adding anyone for the sake of having them. Each must have a reason. Each must have genuine change that reflects the emotion, the feel, the voice of The Stories. It is called The Stories. They are the stories. They have voices. Wants. Desires. They bleed. They scream. They are real. They are alive. They have been transformed. You’ve never seen them like this before. L’orrah, the girl in the red hood, leads these beings in an epic fantasy like no other. In this land, bittersweet endings will come when and only when this evil has been destroyed. But…can one small child hope to defeat a power such as Labadon?
“I am Labadon! Belial! I am flux. This land and all who claim it are mine. I will be their end. No one will remember.”
This is only the beginning…this is only…the Genesis.
The Stories. Legends Will Be Reborn. Witness the rebirth.
…and coming next: The Stories: “Histories”
Four races of beings once lived peacefully in the lands of Thiend and Folowil. Indeed it was a time of peace and harmony. Then jealousy and envy raged and grew in their hearts.
Man, the apple of the eye of Logos. The Brutaal, the beasts, the animals. The Obscuriot, the Nychtos-the night. The Deluz, The Ascendants…the day.
The River Amblem was where these races once joined in the great war.
They each had many names…but they are The Stories:Prequel “Histories“
Common scars brought us together.
Then the subway crashed and darkness took over.
At that moment, I felt again.
After a fatal subway crash, Madison Ray and four girls are the only survivors. They are given the chance to be something and gifted with elements. Strange events begin to occur and people start appearing; some offering assistance, such as the handsome Caleb – others offering annihilation. The Five must choose where they stand.
Madison cannot tell the difference between the darkness and the light though, and as the girls’ dive deeper into chaos, she will have to decide who she will become. She will have to decide to fall again, or stand as Maddie.
A nothing or a something?
The Five or her locket?
“The more people you love, the more you lose.”
Read an excerpt from The Five!
Mystery, Paranormal, Romance, Science Fiction/Fantasy
What do you get when you mix rainbow hair and snarky attitude? Deirdra’s not your typical teenager; she sees things.
Abandoned on the streets of London, Deirdra’s constantly been in and out of orphanages. At age fifteen, she finds herself in the last place she expects—an exclusive boarding school in Ireland. And if that wasn’t enough, the headmaster’s daughter shows her a possible lead to the answer about her abilities.
Things aren’t always as they seem, and the mystery regarding her powers goes deeper into history—and into the future—than she thought. Abilities that haven’t been seen on Earth for centuries emerge in the least likely people to obtain them.
Clues start to unearth themselves and all signs point to India, where strange happenings have been going on in the shadows of night. Could the incidents in India somehow be linked to Deirdra and her Wandering abilities?
The game’s afoot and she is destined to meet some rather unlikely allies as she uncovers the truth about her powers. But does she really want to know the truth, or will curiosity kill this cat?
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To read Chapter One please continue:
Rowling and Meyer: Writing in Secret
By D.L. King http://dlkingwriter.blogspot.com/
Closet writing. It happens more than you think. Just like an undercover FBI agent hiding their veiled career, many writers cloak their work as if they were planning a covert operation instead of writing a novel. It sounds humorous, yet many writers write in secret and this phenomenon is worth some investigation and discussion.
So why keep your writing to yourself? Why not share your excitement from the start and proclaim your envied position as an artist? The answers are fairly straightforward:
1) Creativity is very personal and often artists are shy and delicate creatures.
2) The artist’s life is easily misunderstood by the general population.
3) Many artists wade against an opposing societal current that treats with derision not only the content they’ve chosen but also the very nature of their profession. Writing fiction isn’t your typical 9-5, and by many, isn’t even seen as work.
Furthermore, creativity can be a fragile beast, a beast that needs nurturing. That nurturing can be provided either internally or externally, depending on the individual’s needs, but the beast is demanding and must be fed. And coming to terms with the ramifications of art is something every writer must face if they are to succeed. For some it is a fast process of self-acceptance, but for others it can be a slow and agonizing evolution.
One of the initial hurdles of this progression is overcoming self-doubts. Or the: ‘Am I good enough?’ ‘This business is tough.’ ‘What will so and so think,’ phase. Then comes facing outside obstacles: “Writer? Is that why we sent you to college?” “Good idea, but I think I read that story before,” etc. But with an internal battle already waging in the mind and because there can be many more forces that hamper creativity than foster it, many beginning artists shy away from exposing themselves to outside judgment for fear their sensitive vision may crushed.
Take for example two of the bigs: Stephenie Meyer and J.K. Rowling.
When Meyer was writing Twilight she didn’t tell anyone, not even her husband. She would simply sneak off to the computer and go into deep cover mode.
“I was really protective and shy about it because it’s a vampire romance. It’s still embarrassing to say those words — it sounds so cheesy,” she confessed. “It’s not like I was going to tell him (her husband) that I was writing this story about vampires, because he was just going to be even more perturbed.” (http://www.phoenixnewtimes.com/2007-07-12/news/charmed/2/)
The person who finally broke Meyer’s silence was her older sister, Emily Rasmussen, and Meyer ended up sending her sister the manuscript piece by piece. Rasmussen fell in love with Twilight and encouraged her to find a publisher.
And then there’s J.K. Rowling. For years Rowling was also a closet writer and not many people knew of her literary endeavors. Not even her parents. When one of her pupils discovered she was writing a book, Rowling felt embarrassed and tried to trivialize her writing. “I think I said, ‘No it’s just a hobby.'” http://www.accio-quote.org/articles/2000/0700-guardian-hattenstone.htm
She also once told a friend she was writing a novel, and the friend’s eyes glazed over. “I think she thought I was deluding myself, that I was in a nasty situation, and had sat down one day and thought, ‘I know, I’ll write a novel.’ She probably thought it was a get-rich-quick scheme.” http://www.accio-quote.org/articles/2000/0700-guardian-hattenstone.htm
But as the story goes, she told her sister Dianne about the concept of Harry Potter. And Dianne is said to have instantly loved it and became a huge supporter and finally encouraged J.K. to send the manuscript to publishers. “It’s possible if she had not laughed, I would have set the whole thing to one side,” admitted Rowling, “but Di did laugh.” (http://www.famous-women-and-beauty.com/j-k-rowling-biography.html)
So…confession: Personally, in the beginning, I didn’t want to tell people that I was writing either. I was on the cusp of quitting before I even started, thinking that I’d never accomplish anything, and that most everyone I knew would assume I was on some silly venture.
If anyone needed some external nurturing, it was me. So, like Meyer and Rowling, I only told a few people whom I knew would respond with nothing but support. And that was key. Knowing that someone is cheering you on, whether it’s yourself or someone else, kindles that flame of self-confidence. So that eventually you can step out your door and say: “Hello, world! I’m a writer!”
Later, in addition to telling those first few wonderful people, this gave me enough assurance to join a critique group. And having that extra anchor was fantastic, as the group, too, knew the writer’s plight. There were some bumps on the way as some people gave me the evil-critical-eye. But it wasn’t long before I was known as “a writer.”
As Thomas Dreier once said: “The world is a great mirror. It reflects back to you what you are.” To see this principle in action, one of the greatest ways to find out what you’re projecting is by examining the gifts you receive. As I started to tell more people about writing, going to classes and conferences, and meeting with editors, etc., I noticed that for Christmases and birthdays I started getting more bookstore gift cards and books on writing/grammar.
But finally the ultimate present I received was a pair of earrings in the shape of matching books. I was shocked and closed the box. The giver wondered if I didn’t like the gift, and I told them: “No, I do, but why did you think to give these to me?” (Silly, I know.) They furrowed their brow and said, “Uh, because you’re a writer, duh.” I scratched my head and smiled. “Oh, I guess I am.”
From that day on I was able to put my secret-agent-writer-FBI-badge away and like Rowling and Meyer, acknowledge those first few supportive people who nurtured my artistic endeavourers and built my confidence sky-high.
As an avid writer by day and werewolf by night, D.L. King is a YA and picture book writer currently querying literary agencies for representation.
Keep an eye out for D.L. Her ideas are fresh and I think we will be seeing much more of her in the near future!
Brianne is a brilliantly talented young writer.
Silence is Deadly
ShortStory: General Fiction, Memoir/Autobiography
Silence is deadly.
She couldn’t find the words; she never could until it was much too late. Written a year ago, ‘Silence is Deadly’ explores the idea of the importance of speaking out when help is required; seeking assistance when things are beyond your control.
Silence is, in fact, deadly.