Musings on the Art of Writing

As a child, I discovered fantastic worlds created in books. When I began writing about the worlds of my own imagination, I realized how hard authors work to set their characters free to live for our enjoyment. This blog will explore that weird and wonderful process.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Shelfie selfie

I love photography and in my travel blog and Shutterfly website, you can see my pictures.  I've never posted a picture here until now.  A Facebook friend of mine (also an author) suggested posing with a book you've written with a book case in the background.  I've lots of books and even have a small room designated as a library but felt it was easier to do the 'shoot' while sitting at my office desk.  I'm not a great one for being in photos nor do I do 'selfies' (pictures taken of yourself, by yourself).  What you see is my first attempt.

Taking the photo made me realize I am the worst when it comes to self-promotion, be it my photography or my writing.  Other than a few posts on Twitter and Facebook, I haven't promoted any of my books.  I've never walked into a bookstore and asked for shelf space.  I've never gone to conferences and hocked my books.  Most who meet me don't even know I'm a writer.

I think it is time to change that.  I'll begin with baby steps.  The next few posts will be excerpts from my books.  I'll begin with the first one I self-published, The Quest of Balthasar.  This is a speculative fiction novel for young adults (14 years and over).

Prince Balthasar (Tarr) of Lochnaera, haunted by the grizzly deaths of his parents, searches the galaxy for a legendary ring to bring peace to his planet and fulfill the promise made to his dying father.

Tarr groaned as his battered body smashed the stones.  Blood oozed from his crumpled nose and the pungent smoke of the dungeon cell stung his swollen eyes.

"You no good swine," the jailer cursed.  "Yah deserve to die."  The slobbering Mystragaellan guard slammed his foot onto the small of Tarr's back.  "But there is others who wants yah first.  That there Hunter has his dibs, he does."

The Hunter.  Tarr shuddered.  Always The Hunter nipping at his heels.  Now the Black Pirate had caught up with him.

A steel-capped toe flipped the Lochnaeran like a helpless turtle.  Tarr cooked his arms over his lacerated face.

"Scrofata-swine," the jailer spat.  Tarr huffed as the boot bit into his gut.  "Yah ain't good for nothing. Not stealing.  Not slaving.  Nothing!"

To read the rest of the first chapter, click here.  To purchase the book, click here.

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