Take Your Opportunities Where You Can.

Recently, I attended the British Fantasy Society convention in Brighton, UK. I had never been to one before and I have to say that these things are not normally my cup of tea. I’m quite shy among lots of people I don’t know and I’m not good at starting up random conversations with strangers. Even when those strangers share a common interest, i.e fantasy novels. However, because King’s Envoy had so recently been launched, and because I’d had the excitement and acclaim of having a short story accepted for the Society’s 40^th Anniversary Anthology, ‘Full Fathom Forty’, it was too good an opportunity to miss. So, along with my husband, I went.

The convention was held over three days, Friday through to Sunday. Due to work and other commitments, we couldn’t go until the Saturday morning. This meant I missed being in the signing line up for Full Fathom Forty on the Friday afternoon, which was a shame. It would have given me the chance to meet my co-anthology-authors, and also the opportunity to speak to buyers of the anthology about King’s Envoy. Still, it couldn’t be helped.

Once we registered on the Saturday and collected our goodie bags full of free books and other yummy stuff, we planned our day. Christopher Paolini, author of the Inheritance Cycle, was being interviewed that morning and I thought it would be interesting to hear what sort of questions he was asked and how he handled them (just in case someone ever wanted to interview me like that!). The interview lasted around 45 minutes and it was quite interesting. I was slightly surprised to see how few people turned up to listen though – he was one of the major convention guests yet only about a third of the available seats were taken. The best bit for me was when he was asked a question concerning what he thought about the fantasy genre in general. His answer was that in his opinion, there was a lack of strong, credible female main characters in fantasy novels. My husband nudged me at this point and whispered that if Christopher Paolini wanted to see a really credible and strong female fantasy character, he ought to read MY books. I smiled and nodded – like THAT was ever going to happen. Imagine my surprise when, after audience questions and the interview broke up, my husband went up to Christopher and gave him a copy of King’s Envoy! To the guy’s credit, he actually looked interested and said he’d read the book when he could. I would never have had the guts to do that, but my husband is very used to conventions in his own business life and he’s very good at connecting with people.

That was the first good thing to happen at the convention. The second occurred when I was waiting to try and catch the eye of an agent who I knew would be attending the convention. This agent is known for representing fantasy authors and years ago, when I first began submitting King’s Envoy, she was very helpful to me. She was the first real publishing industry professional to give me any feedback on my work. She was very encouraging, and looked at my work on three separate occasions. Although she didn’t take me on, she did give me much helpful advice. As she was going to be at the convention, I thought it might be nice to introduce myself and thank her for all her help.

While I was waiting for her to come out of another meeting, I was approached by a guy who said, “I saw you in Christopher Paolini’s interview. Would you mind giving me your thoughts on how it went?” It turned out that he was working for Random House, Christopher’s publishers, and he was doing video interviews with people. I agreed to be interviewed and managed to get in a few good plugs for my book, including the one about strong female characters. That was a bonus I didn’t expect!

I then managed to catch the agent as she came out of her meeting and found that she was as nice as she had seemed from her emails. I think she was genuinely pleased that I’d taken the time to connect with her and thank her, and then she asked for a copy of my book! I hadn’t tried to plug it at all and I hadn’t shown it to her, so there was no pressure on her to ask for one. Her favorable reaction to the cover picture really pleased me and she seemed genuinely interested in reading the book. Who knows what could come of this? I’m not even sure I’m looking for an agent, but when opportunities present themselves like this, I believe in taking them. I also believe in thanking people who go out of their way to help me.

These three things all came about quite unexpectedly, and stemmed from me pushing myself to do something out of my comfort zone. The lesson here is that you should never think something isn’t worth doing, and you should take these opportunities where you can. Who knows where they might lead?

Why I Love Books So Much.

In times of stress or worry, or if I need some comfort, I often find myself thinking back to one of my earliest childhood memories. I have lots of very early memories – I can remember being in my baby carriage (long before those neat three-wheeled baby buggies were invented!) and crying because my mother had lowered the clear plastic cover to keep me dry in the rain. Even then, I hated being closed in! I can also clearly remember the red plaid rug that she used to sit me on out in the garden, when the weather was good. But neither of those are the one I’m talking about here.

Our family was, and is, a close one and when me and my older brother (how I always wished I was the oldest, not him!) were growing up, Mom was at home looking after us. She didn’t get a job until we were old enough to go to school. Finding things to keep us occupied never seemed hard work for her, we didn’t have much spare money but there were always plenty of toys around.

There were also books. Both parents read to us children and my brother, at a very young age, too young to read, knew the story “Dabbity Duck” off by heart and could recite it as if reading from the book my father held at bedtime. I have no particular memories of being read to at bedtime but I do remember coming round from an emergency peritonitis operation when I was eleven, and asking my mother to read to me. I doubt I was awake more than ten minutes that first time, the sound of her voice reading to me soothed me back to healing sleep.

But my most comforting memory, the one that always returns if I feel I need time to myself, to de-stress, is of a dark, cold and rainy English winter’s day. My mother and I had just returned from a walk to the local library and I had borrowed a New Book. I was so excited! There was a warm and cheery fire in the hearth, I had a small bag of chocolate buttons, and I curled up in a soft armchair with these and my New Book, and read the winter day away.

Now, maybe forty-seven years later, my best way to relax is still to do exactly the same thing. Ok, the chocolate buttons play a big part in this, but even they wouldn’t taste so good without an exciting book to read. I am very grateful to my parents for ensuring that reading and books played an important role in my life. I’m pleased when I see my grown-up stepchildren reading to their kids, and the way the kids also love books. Maybe one day, they will enjoy curling up in a big old soft armchair with a bag of chocolate buttons and one of their Nanny Cas’s fantasy books. That would surely bring a huge big smile to my face!

Review of Legends Reborn: Light of Epertase Book One, by Douglas Brown.

By virtue of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, skilled warrior Rasi finds himself accused of crimes he didn’t commit. It soon becomes clear that he can remain neither in Thasula, nor in the service of its King, Elijah. Personal tragedy overwhelms him and as his life is now forfeit, he is forced to retreat high into the mountains with only his loyal steed, Salient, for company. Yet even when faced with seemingly insurmountable foes, even when hunted by his former comrades, Rasi remains committed to the country of his birth. Against all the odds he finds companionship where he least expected it, and even a fledgling love, yet such things must remain unresolved while enemies threaten Epertasian lives. Suddenly, the people need his skills once again and so, aided by mercenaries and with the backing of Epertase’s new Queen, Alina, Rasi finds himself at the head of an army, once more pitted against a terrible foe.

Legends Reborn is an action-driven novel, full of gritty conflict and hard-fought battles. The characters are varied and well-drawn; their relationships complex. The setting is an unconventional mix of fantasy and reality, magical powers and technology, while the dialogue is forthright. The author pulls no punches – this novel grabs you by the arm. And while there is closure of a kind at the end, there is plenty of potential for the next two novels in the series. I await Book Two with great interest.

Review of An Empire Lost by Kori Valley.

In An Empire Lost, author Kori Valley sets the scene for an epic struggle between the races of the Seven Lands and the hordes from Mishrak Cu Ra. The Golden Age has ended and it is time for the legendary Shelter Lord to reappear. He must travel the lands searching for the mysterious Eminanti – the Son of the Gods – while raising the races of Druids, Elves and Men to stand united against the Destiant Lord and his forces, called the Black Company.

To help him, the Shelter Lord takes Abasa Snerich, once King of the Druids; a man looking to validate the futility of his former life and find meaning for his future. Also Visara, the Witch Queen of Itsmalle, childhood sweetheart of Abasa. There’s also Bobolli, a once powerful wizard who is now a little too addicted to drink, and Brodderick, Seeker of Tast, the man who brings confirmed news that the Black Company are indeed on the move. Once the City of the Tyrene begins to fail – guided now by a King who does not have her interests at heart – the company leave. Along the way they gather other companions and thus form a company of their own. But before they can begin their appointed task, they must rid the city of South Oprem of the goblins that threaten to overwhelm it. This terrifying battle cements their shared goal and strengthens the ties that bind them.

The book gathers momentum as it progresses. This is understandable, given the scope of the author’s intentions. It also contains many errors, which is a shame, and would have benefitted from a thorough editing, but it is to the author’s credit that he informed me of this before I began reading. My 3-star rating would have been higher but I felt it had to reflect the book as a whole. The errors aside, An Empire Lost shows promise. The characters have the potential for further development and the Seven Lands themselves are a fitting backdrop for the scale of the premise. Given the almost visceral descriptions of the battle for South Oprem, the inevitable final battle ought to be well worth a read.

The Day I Became A... Business!

I’ve read quite a few blog posts recently on similar subjects, such as when do you think of yourself as a writer, things authors don’t hear about what it’s really like to get their book published, and how to protect yourself against the demands, disappointments and uncertainties of the publishing world. They have all been fascinating and enlightening, and I’ve learned many interesting things. Some of the posts were more relevant to my own experience than others, and some were eye-opening – mainly those concerning the personal feelings of the post’s author. I do admire people who wear their hearts on their sleeves and who can lay their deepest emotions so open to the scrutiny of anyone who happened to read their post. I don’t think it’s something I could ever do.

All these different yet similar posts naturally got me thinking about how I feel on the subject of finally being published after nine or so years of trying. Excited, elated, vindicated; nervous, unsure, apprehensive. All of these things. Yet I never doubted right from the start that I was a writer. Today, however, I realized something else. Today, I realized just how real this all is. Why? Because today I opened a business bank account. Today, I am a sole-trader, a self-employed person. Today the business that is “Cas Peace” became official.

I actually registered as self-employed a few weeks ago. It was necessary for tax reasons, and British National Insurance payments. But the fact that I’d done so didn’t really mean very much at the time. It was all mixed up with other legal stuff, such as visiting a tax consultant and applying to the IRS for a Temporary Tax Number. Don’t get me started on this ITIN thing though – it’s a minefield! Still, I’ve got one now, so that’s ok.

My husband has been self-employed for years and owns three consulting companies. I help him with each company’s VAT returns, which is extremely funny when you learn that I’m someone who can’t do math. So I’m very used to seeing business accounts with the name “Peace” on them. But I never imagined I’d see one with “Cas” in front of it! Just that simple act of opening a new account (all right, it wasn’t simple and it took far longer than it should!) suddenly brought the whole thing home to me. My name is now a brand – albeit an unknown one yet – and I own my own business! I came home from that meeting with a big cheesy grin on my face. My meeting with the Small Business Advisor also ended on a good note when I offered him a signed copy of King’s Envoy. His face lit up and he said I’d made his day. Well, he’d made mine, so it was smiles all round!

All I need now are some royalties to offset the start-up costs I’ve had to pay out. Anyone like to help a starving author?

Good Friends... (originally posted at Rhemalda in May 2011)

Everyone knows what a rare treasure a really good friend is. You know the kind – the ones who tell you, with love, the painful truths you REALLY don’t want to hear. The ones who love you no matter your failings. The ones who help you improve by showing you the faults you can’t see for yourself. The ones who seem to know what you need before you ask. Such friends are difficult enough to find in person, but when one arrives via the Internet, someone you never actually meet or even see via Skype, yet who still manages to connect instantly with your soul, that person is the rarest and most valuable of finds.

Well sadly, this weekend I lost such a friend. Gerry Dailey, who lived with her husband and family in Chicago, was the most loving, trusted and loyal friend despite the fact I never met her in person. We shared many loves, amongst which was a love of books and writing, and although she didn’t write herself (at least, not as far as I know) yet she has had a hand in the writing success of many authors; among them, I believe, Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind.

I first came into contact with Gerry two years ago via Authonomy, the HarperCollins peer-critique website. Her Authonomy profile-name was Ancient Reader. She read King’s Envoy when it was still being edited and despite loving it, gave me many insights, pointers and suggestions. When she learned that there were eight other books in the series, she was overjoyed, and enthusiastically read every single one. I made some important changes due to Gerry’s loving criticisms, and one of my major characters, Rienne, even owes her lovely name to Gerry. She also gave me permission to use an endorsement of hers on the book’s cover, for which I am very grateful.

I know there will be many, many people right now grieving for the loss of a true friend they never met. This post of mine is partly in tribute to Gerry and partly to say, if you have a friend like her, not only are you extremely privileged, but always make sure you tell them how deeply they are valued. Friendship is a precious thing and not to be taken lightly. The gift of someone else’s heart is the strongest, and yet the most fragile gift you could ever receive. If I can touch just one other person’s spirit with my writing as deeply as I touched Gerry’s, I will feel very special indeed.

God bless you, Gerry Dailey, rest peacefully in His arms.

What is an Artesan? (originally posted at Rhemalda in April 2011)

When I first began writing my fantasy series Artesans of Albia, it had a very different title. The premise is that a section of my world’s populace, drawn from five separate races, would be born with a certain talent. One manifestation of this talent is the ability to learn how to control one’s inner life force; an energy I call ‘metaforce’. Once this was decided, I found I needed a vehicle through which this metaforce would be channelled; something possessed by every living thing but which was unique in each case. I experimented with various terms until I hit on the word ‘matrix’. The matrix would be akin to the psyche, and it would be a thing of ephemeral, mystical beauty. It can only be seen by another practitioner of the craft and is an intricate, four-dimensional ‘pattern’, consisting of whorls, spirals, helixes, colors and emotions. The more skilled the practitioner, the more complex their matrix would be.

Having decided these things, the series’ title became obvious. It just had to be ‘Masters of the Matrix’. Brilliant title, I thought – I love it! (Can you see where this is going?)

I wrote happily on, oblivious to the slap in the face that was coming my way. Sometimes I just hate the film industry… Ok, of course you know, it was the release of the Matrix films. I spat feathers when the first one came out – how dare they ruin all my careful planning – not to mention a perfectly good series title? Not fair! For a while I toyed with the idea of keeping my masterpiece – maybe I could capitalize on the connection? Thankfully I thought better of it; can you imagine how mad someone would be if they bought one of my books by mistake, thinking it was related to the films? And I could just imagine what agents or publishers would say…

Anyway, now I had a problem. The people who exhibit this talent are not magicians or wizards in any sense of the word. Their ‘powers’ owe more to Druidical beliefs, or that of Wicca, than to such creations as Gandalf or Merlin. I had to find a unique name for them, a term that reflected their knowledge; their artistry.

One of the best-loved books in my writer’s arsenal is my Roget’s Thesaurus. It was a 21st birthday present from two great-aunts. (Actually my parents bought it, but the money came from my great-aunts.) They are both gone now – my 21st birthday was a long, LONG, time ago – but I still frequent my Thesaurus. When I’d exhausted all the obvious and immediate terms I could think of for my talented people, I dug through its many permutations and suggestions until I whittled all the possibilities down to two words. Artist and artisan.

Both these words carried elements (pun intended) of the skills my people possess, but both were too ordinary. I rejected them, but it wasn’t long until I realized there was nothing else. I’d already decided against coining a brand new word; I wanted potential readers to at least have an inkling of what the term might mean. Eventually, in desperation, I tried altering the word ‘artisan’ by exchanging the ‘i’ for an ‘e’. Bingo! The rest, as the old cliché goes, is history.