Kickstarter for 5 short stories in the Brymlight world is live and on its way! Reward tiers to fit everyone’s pocketbook and reading style – yes, we have ebook *and* printed versions. Higher tiers add some fun art options. Premium tiers are there for someone interested in more unique experiences, like story dedication and livestreams.
Both Chris from LoreSmyth and I will be monitoring the comments and fielding questions throughout the campaign – come join the fun!
Hello lonely blog follower, Facebook friends, and even Twitter account holders who made the ill advised action of following my never so frequent updates. You can be thankful at least that I am not filling your mailboxes and feeds with endless posts. Focused posting. That’s good enough for me… when I get around to it that is.
Despite numerous heartfelt attempts, I have decided that I am completely incapable of generating any enthusiasm for rewriting “The West Wind ” (at least presently) I am therefore pursuing what I believe to be the only sensible course of action… Start writing a new book! If there is a rule that I need to finish rewriting the previous before starting anew, like some sort of literary lima beans before desert, I am afraid I am guilty of its violation.
“Due West” picks up roughly a year following the conclusion of “The West Wind.” Rachel West returns as a principle POV character, as does my favorite troubled and unstable heir Eli Hardy. For my third POV I am introducing a new character, the inimitable inspector Edward Percival Alford sent by the American Colonial government to investigate the extraordinary events of the previous story. The setting remains the same – the Steampunk Western alternate world of the early 1900s.
Scrivener files created, timeline drawing template opened, let the plotting begin!
After last week’s major milestone (well it was at least for me…) of crossing the 100k word count, this weekend’s milestone is equally exciting (well it is at least for me…).
Roland, one of my main POV characters, storyline is complete!
That leaves me with one more chapter of Rachel and three chapters, maybe only two and a half, of Eli until I am done.
I was hoping to have a re-write done by the end of July in time for Gen-Con Indy. I started my writing there last year by attending several writing track seminars. This year I was planning on taking cards and synopsis to do a little networking.
24 more scenes. About 3,800 words this weekend!
Here’s the blurb for The West Wind:
Rachel West and half brother Clarence emigrate from Post-Victorian London to the American West and are swept up in intrigues fueled by greed, resentment, and the need for revenge in this steam/hydrogen-punk tale dominated by plots and power struggles between rich and powerful industrialists. It is a world of massive floating mansions, horses, stagecoaches, airships, private railroad cars, dusty western towns, flying machines, and marvelous traveling mechanical freak shows.
Final post from my pre-writing before NaNoWiMo. Rachel and Clarence have a nice evening out…
“What is this place Rachel?” asked Clarence looking about at the tents and people.
“It is ‘Dr. Magnifico’s Mechanical Wonders and Traveling Sideshow.’” Rachel read from an ornate hand lettered banner that hung over the entrance to the show.
“Mmmm” replied Clarence around a brightly colored nugget of rock candy on a stick.
Rachel watched men and women milling about or standing on tiptoes craning for a look into the open sided tents that held the mechanical wonders. She squinted through the haze of coal smoke and steam lit to a warm glow by hundreds of kerosene lamps towards a broad opening at the other end of the show where she could hear music playing.
Clarence tugged at her hand and pointed into one of the tents where she caught a glimpse of a wiry haired old man in a long apron and goggles hung at his neck staring lovingly as a pair of mechanical mantids cavorted about on the table before him.
“Step right up! Step right up!” Rachel heard the call of a show barker on a small stage opposite a brightly painted calliope that huffed steam and raucous music into the night air. “Come see the mechanical miracle, the jewel of the Jade Empire that has traveled thousands of miles to astound you with the wonders of the modern technological age.”
Clarence eagerly pulled Rachel into the crowd that had gathered at the foot of the small stage where a young Chinese woman in a red silk robe paraded sensuously.
“May I have two volunteers from the crowd please?” the barker asked. In response, two young men leapt forward and clambered up on the stage.
Plants thought Rachel.
Rachel watched as the barker held a brief conference with the men and then conducted them to positions on the stage where they raised a cloth with a colorful landscape highlighted by a rolling turreted wall. The Chinese woman slipped behind the screen, turned away from the crowd and slid the robe from her shoulders. A blue and green dragon tattoo could be seen in flight on mechanical wings across her back dipping beneath her long black hair that flowed from her head. She turned to face the audience and gave a demure nod to the men holding the screen. At this signal, the men dropped the makeshift curtain.
Rachel heard Clarence gulp as he clapped his hands over his eyes. All around her gasps filled the air, as she stood mesmerized by the Chinese woman standing naked from the waist up. An elaborate brass cage with fanciful etchings and ornate filigree stood where her breasts and stomach should have been. Inside, Rachel could see hundreds of spinning gears, coiled springs, and a slow, almost hypnotic motion, of what appeared to be jewel encrusted bellows. The woman’s flesh was pink and puckered where the mechanics met the rest of her natural body.
“It is ok Clarence,” Rachel said tugging at his arms. “She is part automaton. Look, you can see her breathing. And there,” Rachel pointed, “you can even see her heart beating.”
“Something is wrong Rachel,” said Clarence. On stage, a look of shock registered on the face of the Chinese woman that, only a moment ago, held a look of supreme confidence. Within seconds, the woman had fallen to one knee and put a hand to the stage to steady herself.
“It is all part of the act” Rachel assured Clarence. But it was the frantic actions of the barker, all attempt at showmanship gone, that shocked Rachel into action.
“Rachel, you need to help the pretty clock lady!” Rachel heard Clarence shout as she pushed her way toward the stage amid the cries of alarm raised by the crowd.
D.W. Beyer 