Steampunk fiction, reviews and interviews

Posts tagged “fantasy

Light In The Lantern: With K.S. Trenten

Greetings! Welcome to Steampunk’d Lancaster! My name is K.S. Trenten, keeper of the Cauldron of Eternal Inspiration (inspirationcauldron.wordpress.com ) and a humble talespinner
whose stories can be found at https://www.amazon.com/author/kstrenten as well as Nine Star Press, Mischief Corner Books, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Apple.

I craft flights of fantasy of an ambient nature, focusing more on the emotional than the action driven elements of
many a magical world.

Strange times have struck the Isles of Ire…Flesh eating Liver Birds plague the skies and Sugar-zombies roam the streets spreading the curse like a plague…and I can see the shadows of nightmare and imagination pooling together at the edges between worlds, ready to birth even more monsters in response to many a shivering, fearful soul, locked down within their homes,
hoping their humble shelters will be protection enough, and trying to stave off the madness which threatens in their isolation.

So some of us have decided to re-kindle the old beacon in the city watchtower and keep its flame burning every night as a way of giving hope to those being hunted down by terrifying monsters or evil scarecrow landlords…I can see one shuffling outside the tower walls. It calls
mockingly, desiring money, votes, or souls in many voices. I’ve come up with a cry of my own to keep it at bay, although I’m not sure for how long my strange chant will confuse it.

Never fear, gentle readers. I am well-armed with a fierce House Tigress at my side. She may be tiny (along with wide of girth), but she is heavy, armed with sharp claws, and has a piercing yowl which sends the scarecrow landlords staggering away. If she is not enough, her brother is within
the tower, paws full and nose nudging a doomsday weapon he’s cobbling together which he swears will save us all (don’t pin too much hope on that promise, Sage tends to exaggerate).

Nevertheless, both of my furry companions should discourage the invaders from outside. While we keep watch, I thought I’d share some of my work with you.

I’m currently busy working on Of Cuckoo Clocks and Crystal Coffins, the story between the story of Fairest, straight from the seventh dwarf’s mouth. Yes, it’s Quartz, the character who takes over my blog once a month. He’s demanded his own story. He’s seriously distracted me from the series dearest to my heart, Tales of the Navel: The Shadow Forest which I hope to self-publish.

Christopher, narrator of Conversations with Christopher at the Cauldron of Eternal Inspiration is from the Shadow Forest, although he found a home at the Navel, center of all things bizarre. The Shadow Forest and the Navel both at times appear in tales at the Formerly Forbidden Cauldron, which is slowly cooling to a simmer, due to the updates at Blogger. All samples of story are slowly trickling their way to the Original Cauldron. I do still have stories for sale, two are ripe for the holidays.

About those two. Here’s a little from Seven Tricks, straight from the muzzle of its scampering anti-hero of a mouse prince…


Some say a mouse king has seven heads. Hah, trust a human to get our legends wrong. A mouse prince must perform seven tricks before the twelve days of Christmas are up. It’s how he wins his crown, but I’ve got my whiskers set on something else. A stiff beauty with a magnificent
jaw, waiting for me under the holiday shrub. I caught his scent in a dream, which I’ve been sniffing after ever since. Scamper with me through my adventures and misadventures, dodging traps, cats, and giants, while I win a steadfast nutcracker’s heart.

Buy Links:
Nine Star Press: https://ninestarpress.com/product/seven-tricks/
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/seven-tricks-ks-
trenten/1127424849?ean=2940158598838
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-
keywords=Seven+Tricks%2C+by+K.S.+Trenten
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/seven-tricks
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/758279

And here’s a little about my other holiday tale; Wind Me Up, One More Time…


Grace Morisot gets Theodora, a toy bear for the holidays. A bear only she can hear. A bear she can go on special adventures with.
Once she and Theodora get together, life seems to be going quite well. She meet Heather and Heidi, whom become good friends and potential future wives. Heidi finds Carrot Monster, a rabbit companion of her own while Heather decides to save some nisse in a window from their depressing hats. 
Even though Grace’s mother is no longer around, she still has Nathalie, her adopted sister and surrogate mother, who tells wonderful stories. Nat has Maia, whom acts like a mother to Grace, even if she has a tendency to turn into Iama the Terrible when she’s been working too hard. 
Things come to an end when tragedy takes Nathalie away. The gears of industry, which
Grace has come to fear, threaten to take Maia away, too.
It’s up to Theodora Bear, Grace’s companion to somehow safe the day. Yet how can she do anything when her child is ceasing to believe in her? 

Mischief Corner Books/Shenanigans Press: https://www.mischiefcornerbooks.com/wind-me-up-
one-more-time.html#/
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081LPX2WH
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wind-me-up-one-more-time
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wind-me-up-one-more-time-ks-trenten/1134959345

https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1488235515?fbclid=IwAR1_ox2T5jIHibPFBHUqTck0SNaP3p
cZIgNM4DS3VAjU47mn3o5iu260bMA


May my humble words help keep away the winter chill and my characters distract you from your gloom. Please come and visit me at the Cauldron as well…every week something is brewing in its waters. And watch out for those scarecrow landlords! They may give you an impression
weakness, flailing about, but there’s cunning in that stuffing, mark my words. And please don’t give Sage any more funding for his doomsday weapon! It’s not going to work, no matter how much he mews that he’s gotten all the glitches figured out…


Silk and Steel

Happy Friday! Well our forray into Icewind Dale last weekend nearly wiped our entire high-level party just from the cold and scary as that was it really set the scene for the horror-feel and made everything super intense and sand-boxy which we haven’t had for a looooong time – it felt more like playing something like Blades in The Dark. Brilliant 😀

But enough Dnd – here is the next bit of Silk and Steel – if you happened to miss the chapter waaaaayyyy back where the Doctor met Pan Twardowski in the park in the form of The Crow Man you want to know that Pan gave the Doctor a mysterious vial that looked similar to demonsong and told him to find a way to make Spyro drink it…. just sayin… XD XD XD 😉

“And now that they are out of the way,” the doctor said, as he placed a glass in front of Spyro and took one for himself, “if you expect me to be involved in this scheme, then I expect absolute candour from you, as always.”
Spyro ingnored the drink and leaned in close.

“All I require for this one is your advice and your discretion.” he said, his voice low and intense.


The Doctor stared hard at him. “The more information I have, the better the advice I can give.” He spread his palms, “As for discretion, you know it is not a concept I have ever had much time for, but… it would not suit me at present to see you in any form of difficulty.”

Perhaps the only reason I am still alive. – Spyro couldn’t help reflecting and he supressed a shudder at how close he thout he had come to pushing the powerful Ghani too far.


He nodded, intimating that the sentiment was both accepted and reciprocated, for now. “Very well then. An old aquaintance has returned to the city – an unimaginably powerful one who, for reasons I won’t bore you with, wishes to put an end to our lucrative corporation.”

“You mean he wants you dead.”

Spyro spun his glass again,still ignoring the full one the doctor had givenhim. “I did not say that,” he said, smiling up through his fringe of dark curls.


The Doctor held his gaze. “You did not have to.”

Spyro licked his dry lips and for a long while they sat there, locked in yet another of their many stand-offs.


At length, the antiques dealer leaned back, threw his arm over the back of the bench and let his gaze wander around the room before finally deigning to re-join the conversation. “This person commands an uncommon power,” he said, keeping his voice low, “something akin to that wielded by the church and the vesperai…”

“Then perhaps Blondell is your better choice of confident…”

“Damn it!” He struck the table with his fist in frustration and instantly regretted it as he saw the ghani’s colour begin to rise.

“Look, I can’t trust Blondell,” he said earnestly, “you are my business associate and one of my oldest and closest companions, I am trusting the matter to you and to no one else.”


The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. “Fine. Then speak.”
“I need a way of combatting that power myself. I have seenthis man bested by demons once before andI am curious – what would be the effect on someone who is not demon-bound if they drank demonsong? Would it give them a similar power?”


The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “I am a man of science…”


“You are an alchemist is this not your area of expertise?”


“Demonsong remains at present a theological conundrum. However,” he added as he saw Spyro was about to make a retort, “I have been regularly subjected to the pompous rhetoric of my fellows enough to convey that the most widely accepted theory on the subject maintains that demonsong works the way it does because it calls to the divine spark present in all things – god calling to god, if you will.”


Spyro shrugged as if it mattered little and the The Doctor pressed on.
“When a demon-bound person drinks demonsong it is generally supposed that it awakens that divine spark within the demon and grants it, for a short while, a burst of god-like power. If there were no demon, then…”

“Oh my goodness! I am SO so sorry!!” The barmaid who had bustled over to clear their empty glasses suddenly slipped, sending the four untouched drinks spilling all over the table.


“Don’t trouble yourself, it was merely an accident,” The Doctor said, “I have not a splash upon my person.”


Spyro, who was quite drenched from the waist down and now sported claret stains upon his white shirt smiled reassuringly as he pulled a handkerchief and began mopping at his trousers. “The Doctor is right, it matters not at all, “ he said pleasantly.


The barmaid shook her head, “I will get you another round out of my tips, my loves,” she said, patting his arm and collecting the glasses onto her tray.

“I wouldn’t hear of it,” Spyro said, “have one for yourself instead.” And he gave her a handful of fleshcoins and a winning smile.


They waited until she had gone before resuming the conversation.

“So you think it would have no effect because there is no demon?” Spyro deduced.

The Doctor shook his head. “Quite the opposite, I think the results would be very interesting. I will bring you a vial of the stuff tonight if you wish.”


Spyro frowned. He had been certain that the Doctor had been heading down the opposite track and now he wondered how he could have misinterpreted his tone and expression so badly. I am letting this Twardowski business affect my judgement. He chided himself. The sooner it is dealt with the better. “So, theoretically, drinking demonsong would give a person a burst of power similar to that of a demon? For a short time.”

“For a short time, it would seem so.”

“Then I am for it. Thankyou,” he said earnestly, as Fey returned to the table, steering an unsteady looking Xander gently but firmly by the shoulders.


“Don’t mention it.” The Doctor replied, moving over so that the pair could take their seats again.

“Ready to play?” Spyro asked.

“All set.” Fey grinned confidently.

Xander nodded but didn’t say a word.


Frost Fair: Collin’s memoirs part 2…

Thankyou, friends, for joining me this morning on board the Harlequin Ladybird, do pull up a cat.. er, sorry, I mean a cushion… and make yourselves comfortable as I, Collin The Octopus, read to you all from my marvellous journal of extremely exciting adventures… a-hem…

February, 1823…

Good morning ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Max and Collin’s splendiferously sparkling and frostabulously frozen parlour located in the splendidly scenic city of Lancaster!

True, some have called it a frigid place of cold hearts and frosty welcomes but we consider that uch people are merely embittered that they have not yet received an invitation.

You find us this morning, warming our tentacles beside an imaginary fire after an enterprising and entertaining morning at the fabulous frost fair which is being held on our beloved river Lune.

Our psychotic scarecrow landlord, Montmorency, woke us before dawn with the business end of his walking cane and demanded that we head out into the frozen darkness and not return until we had enough money to pay for this month’s rent. The fact that we only just paid for the last month seems to have escaped the rogue and so I perched upon Max’s shoulder and we set off towards the river.

There were already traders setting up stalls on the ice but none of them took favourably to our offers  of  assistance (it seems that Queen Vic’s recent  amendments to equality in employment law do not extend to an Octopus and a Tea Fiend) So we settled ourselves on the bank instead and watched the sun rise over the frosted spires of the sail barges which had collapsed crazily into the ice sheets and lay mired liked the skeletons of stranded beasts from some fantastical caffeine-fuelled nightmare.

Things picked up once the punters arrived. After some initial competition from a woman hawking root beer (For a Very Quite Gentleman, Max can be terribly clumsy when glass bottles are around) we managed to sell twenty bottles of lemonade (and drink many more) without being lynched by the barge folk for selling without paying the trading fees.

We decided that that was quite enough hard shirking for one morning and spent the rest of the time mooching around the stalls, watching the jugglers and fire eaters and, most impressively to me, the ice skaters. Having lived under the sea all my life, I never imagined this curious form entertainment and I am determined, soon, to beg, borrow or steal enough pairs of ice skates to attempt the thing myself.

Now here we are back in the parlour, our landlord briefly appeased, our cats greedily devouring the last of the skimmed milk ration, and all desperately in need of a reviving spot of elevenses and some soothing music to tap our tentacles to. Unfortunately our absconding butler has not seen fit to deliver the goods this morning (perhaps she thinks it’s a holiday? ‘Though what a werewolf would find to do at a frost fair we have no idea…) but not to worry because we managed to run into our lovely Mrs Baker on the way back and she has set us up with a packet of genuine Frost Fair Souvenir Gingerbread which, knowing Mrs B, will be crammed full of illegal sugar…mmm…

And, by happy chance, Max’s constant pocket companion ‘The Whole Duty Of A Woman (or an infalliable guide to the fair sex) – 1737’ (A birthday gift from a devoted family member I think) has an excellent recipe for … OWCH! …Well, really! You know, for a Very Quiet Gentleman, Max, you  can be excessively violent devoid of a sense of humour… do learn to take a joke, please!

I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted by a flying teapot, that this is a recipe for ginger bread biscuits, rather than the cake which we are enjoying now but it is nonetheless share-worthy, I think…

“To Make Gingerbread…

Take a pound and a half of London Treacle, two eggs beaten, half a pound of sugar, one ounce of ginger, beaten and sifted, of cloves, mace and nutmeg, all together, half an ounce beaten very fine, coriander seeds and caraway seeds of each half an ounce, Two punds of butter melted; mix all these together, with as much flour a will knead it into a pretty stiff paste, then roll it out and cut it into what Form you please; bake it in a Quick Oven on Tin-plates; A little time will bake it.”

 

 

Oh I do miss our dear Mrs Baker very much indeed! And yes, I’m sorry to say that Max is no less violent and humourless when it comes to ‘taking a joke’ these days as he was then… fortunately he has decided not to join us for these little readings, although I can’t think why he would deny himself such a pleasure, hedonism notoriously being his chief virtue…

If you are out on the ice today, do tread with care won’t you? Unless you have ice skates in which case throw yourself gracelessly with wild abandon! And until we meet again please, remain always

Utterly Yourself


Representing Rromani People in Fiction

Happy Sunday folks! I don’t usually do a Sunday post but I was fortunate enough to be invited to do a guest post on Stephen Palmer’s blog on the subject of Rromani representation in fiction so I thought I’d share it at the weekend so that it doesn’t get trampled by Collin and his Frost Fair shenanigans! XD

Here’s the link to the guest post: http://www.stephenpalmer.co.uk/

Stephen Palmer writes a variety of diverse fiction including Sci fi and Steampunk. You can find his authour page on amazon here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Stephen-Palmer/e/B0062Z5R78?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1581086881&sr=8-1

 


Frost Fair: With Characters from ‘Wind Me Up, One More Time’ by K.S. Trenten

 

A golden shimmer hangs in the air over the billowing tent folds of the stall where Theodora Bear sits on display. She cannot move, not with all the crowds of strangers moving around, watching her still, stuffed form. None of these people are her child, after all. She can speak, however, in the silent, non-voice of stuffed animals which other toys and her child can hear. 

 

*It’s a good thing Iama put a spell on this tent. I think we’re warmer here than a lot of the vendors are in their booths.*

 

A little girl wearing a red hood pulled over her head nods.

 

*It’s also a good thing we came and not the other Grace and Theodora. They have Maia, who’s a good seamstress, but we have Iama, who’s an actual enchantress. We’re more prepared for the cold than any of the characters in Verity, for all the perpetual fog in that town.*

 

*You think this is cold?* The scornful not-voice of a little man with a long, gray beard, a cap pulled down over his eyes, and dangling legs covered with red and white striped stockings was inaudible to Grace, but not to Theodora. *It’s far colder in the land my brother nisse and I come from.*

 

*Where are your brothers?* Theodora let her furry head list a little to the side in a movement too small to be noticed. *I’d think they’d love this frost fair.*

 

*They don’t want to go out until their new caps are ready.* Leif tugs his own cap in a self-conscious fashion, or tries to, but his own child isn’t even present. He can do a lot less than Theodora. *Can’t say I blame them.*

 

*Well, look sharp, Grace, it appears we have visitors.* Theodora regards the approaching readers with shiny button eyes. 

 

“Hello!” Grace smiles, speaking out loud for the first time. “Welcome to the Wind Me Up, One More Time booth! We’re all characters from that story, or from Grace and Theodora: Magic and Mishaps, the story within that story. It’s all fairy tales, toys, girls falling in love, learning to grow up without growing away, not allowing ourselves to be turned into gold by misguided enchantresses, or ground up by the gears of industry.” She stops a moment, looking unsure of herself, only to turn the crank in the back of the stuffed bear. 

 

“Growwr,” Theodora says, opening the seams in her chest to reveal what should be stuffing within. 

 

Grace lets out a frightened gasp, but there’s something glowing with Theodora’s chest. A golden apple, with the following information inscribed upon it…

 

Good Morning! Welcome to the Annual Lancastrian Frost Fair on the frozen River Lune!

 My name is K.S. Trenten and I write ambient fantasy. The characters you are meeting are from Wind Me Up, One More Time, my first published novel. Here are some links to that particular holiday fairy tale…

Mischief Corner Books/Shenanigans Press: https://www.mischiefcornerbooks.com/wind-me-up-one-more-time.html#/

 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081LPX2WH

 

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wind-me-up-one-more-time

 

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wind-me-up-one-more-time-ks-trenten/1134959345

 

https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1488235515?fbclid=IwAR1_ox2T5jIHibPFBHUqTck0SNaP3pcZIgNM4DS3VAjU47mn3o5iu260bMA

 

If you’d like to discover more about me, you can find at…

 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rhodrymavelyne/?ref=bookmarks#

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/rhodrymavelyne

 

tumblr: https://rhodrymavelyne.tumblr.com/

 

Archive of Our Own: http://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodrymavelyne

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14876500.K_S_Trenten?from_search=true

 

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/kstrenten

 

Nine Star Press Author Page: https://ninestarpress.com/authors/k-s-trenten/

 

I’ve got other published stories available; such as Seven Tricks, A Symposium in Space, Fairest (Once Upon a Rainbow), At Her Service (Once Upon a Rainbow 2), and The Closet (Impact). I write a monthly column, Sources of Inspiration for Queer Sci Fi and also update monthly at cauldronkeeper.livejournal.com and rhodrymavelyne.dreamwidth.org

Free samples of my work are available weekly at the Cauldron of Eternal Inspiration (inspirationcauldron.wordpress.com) and the Formerly Forbidden Cauldron (inspirationcauldron.blogspot.com), so feel free to stop by! I hope you enjoy your time on the ice today, thank you for stopping by!


#WritingWednesday: In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers

Happy Wednesday! I’m using Wednesdays to share some short bursts of the stories I’m working on… because that way, I figure, I’ll be motivated to keep working on them

Right now (besides the Smith and Skarry adventures, which get quite enough attention in my other posts) I’m working on an LGBTQIA+ Mythpunk standalone novel called In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers whose central themes are identity, voice and power.

It’s based in a world where Time grows like grass and is harvested, where people of the four cities – Gnarl, Ash, Slain and Caligari – wear their whole lives on their backs in the form of patchwork story Cloaks. Those who don’t have a Cloak, have no clue as to who they are. Those who have Cloaks guard them jealously for fear of the desperate Daggers who would steal them for themselves.

The novel is divided into four books – The Book Of Bujo (which btw is a complicated word whose closest meaning would be heist/ joke/ prank/ trick), The Book Of Scales, The Book of Feathers and The Book Of End – but in the opening the reader finds themselves in a burned down library where the pages of all these books have been scattered, charred and disarrayed across the floor so the narrative has to be pieced together in fragments and the time line dawns slowly rather than being obvious from the start.

It’s ambitious, I’m scared about failing at the vision I’m aiming for, but I love pushing the boundaries of what I can do and I’ve done similar things with short stories so I really hope I can make it work, let’s see… This is the next extract, you can find the previous part here:#WritingWednesday: In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers

Victorian Steampunk Plague Doctor Assassin

 

 

The Duchess felt the wooden boards behind her bow beneath The Magon’s measured gait, felt the cautious weight of their rough, scaled hand on her shoulder and the glass vial they pressed into her mechanical fingers.
She nodded and slipped it into her pouch, where it knocked gently against five or six others nestled there, and then she reached back, unfastened the buckle of her mask and let it slide away, revealing her warm olive skin and the black silk bandages which veiled her empty eye sockets from the elements.
The Kite stuttered over the rolling waves of compacted sea glass, now dry as sand-licked bone, and The Duchess felt the resonance of each frosted bead like a rosary drumming through her frame.
The Magon stayed, leaning idly against the mast, and let the wind blow back their long crest of silver hair and feathers from their dusk dark skin.
A comfortable silence slipped and settled down between them as The She Wolf slept and The Dragpie sulked and the Navigator steered and The Kesili strained and The Grass Temple begged and the twisted arches of Gnarl rose up ahead of them like a crouching spider on the edge of everything.

 

There you go, I hope you enjoyed reading the next little extract and thankyou so so much for taking the time to read along and for all your kind ‘likes’ and words of support and encouragement- they keep me going! 🙂 What are you writing at the moment? Feel free to share links to your own works in progress or Writing Wednesday posts in the comments 🙂

Blessings on all your writing endeavours!


Guest Post by Stephen Palmer: A Diverse Dilemma?

A Diverse Dilemma? – A Guest Post By Stephen Palmer

 

A few years ago, the well known scientist Tim Hunt caused a media storm by suggesting that women scientists in laboratories were distractingly sexy and prone to fits of tears. He was rightly lambasted and mocked for having such an old-fashioned attitude. This incident caused a particularly interesting tea break conversation in the staff room of the college where I used to work, between myself, two sociology teachers (for whom racism and much else is on the curriculum), a biology teacher and a psychology teacher. We covered sexism, racism, the youth of today – ie our students – and a few other related topics, and the conversation really made me think afterwards, not least about the use of offensive words in literature.

 

In 2014, Keith Brooke at Infinity Plus Books published my surreal, alternate-history fantasy Hairy London, a novel not to be taken seriously, but which has a couple of really serious themes – the nature of love, and the treatment afforded by white men of what used to be called the Establishment to non-British people, the “lower” classes and women. As somebody who is appalled by racism and sexism, and who has happily used a full human range of characters in his novels, I wanted to make use of some of the excesses of times gone past in order to allow two of my main characters – both of them men from wealthy English families – to learn from their experiences. To do this, I used the term darkie. I used it for no other reason than to make the point that the racism of the time was shameful and inhumane. I felt my use was appropriate.

This use of the word was noted in one of the novel’s reviews: … there is a boldness echoing the New Wave experimentalism of British SF in the 1960s. Bold to the extent that elements of the depiction of racism may prove controversial, not least some historically accurate language…

So, I asked myself: is it ever acceptable to use this term? And if so, what about the N-word?

 

In 2016, the first volume of my ‘Factory Girl’ trilogy, The Girl With Two Souls, whose main character Kora is a fourteen year old of mixed racial descent, was published. Technically, Kora is a mulatto. This word has its origin somewhere in the sixteenth century and comes from the Spanish mulato, meaning mule (the offspring of a donkey and a horse, ie mixed heritage). Interestingly, the N-word is not much younger – a few decades perhaps.

You will note I haven’t actually spelled out the N-word here. But I did use it in full in The Girl With Two Souls to enhance the sensation received by the reader that my main character was being treated with crude inhumanity. I felt that, because the word was used in an appropriate social context, not to mention an obvious historical context, it was right to use it.

Some people today think the word shouldn’t be used in any context; they say it is always wrong and always inappropriate. I think this is misguided, and often unhelpful. To censor the attitudes of people in the past by not using their dialect is to ignore or conceal their deeds.

 

Recently I finished reading Discoveries, Nicholas Thomas’ excellent survey of Captain Cook’s three voyages of discovery in the late 1700s. What was particularly interesting was the attitude of the British sailors to various Polynesian races. In fact, at this very early stage, Cook at least was comparatively enlightened, though in a particular way; he had a concept of peaceful interaction with “natives,” though only for the purpose of trade. And he used his own metaphor to describe them, not the Polynesians’ metaphors. He and other officers also used the difference in status of women to judge Polynesian societies, assuming that polygamy was primitive and monogamy the norm, ie the Christian norm. And of course Cook and others distinguished between the “European” straighter hair of the Australian Aborigines and the “woolly” hair of what they called Negroes, presuming that “woolly” hair was like animal hair. In this manner, and in others, they were able to present themselves with justifications for slavery.

 

I suppose we’re all guilty of making unthinking mistakes though, mistakes based in the norms of our own culture. The tea break conversation mentioned above turned to the use of the word ethnic, which I’ve regularly used as an umbrella word – for example to describe my collection of musical instruments – to mean non-British. The sociology teacher pointed out to me that the word was meaningless, since everybody has an ethnicity, a point which had escaped me, even though I’m of Welsh extraction and have received anti-Welsh mockery (from an Indian – oh, the irony). Ethnic… it shows how we accidentally slip into unhelpful terminology sometimes when describing the wider world.

The sociology teacher went on to explain that the acronym BME is used by British police and other organisations to cover black and minority ethnicities, thereby collecting everyone under one label. But it is a meaningless label, and hardly helpful, not least when for example non-British refugees (eg from Somalia) are all housed together when they are from groups who in Somalia are at one another’s throats.

One other issue we have is of making blanket identities, for example that of “African.” In my novel Muezzinland I wanted to write about the intricate and sophisticated cultures of Western and Northern Africa, which I did via folklore. It was a novel with racism as a theme – eg that of people from Northern Africa upon Western Africans – which did not mention race.

 

As an interesting addendum, none other than President Obama used the N-word during a podcast on 21 June 2015, showing that, in some circumstances, and from some people, there is a place for it.

And in a thought-provoking piece in today’s Independent, Ben Elton describes what he learned, much later, from his use of the epithet “spasmo” in 1982 in ‘The Young Ones,’ which went on to become a playground taunt. He regrets it deeply now, and has greatly contributed to disabled charities such as Scope, but the fact remains: the word was of its time. We can see that it’s wrong, but we have to use that word now in order to examine the sociological context of 37 years ago.

It turns out we are all human, with individual circumstances of gender, race, culture, background etc. I think it would be good if our society reflected that fact.

 

Many thanks for this thought provoking guest post Stephen. You can find Stephen’s blog here:

https://stephenpalmersf.wordpress.com/

And the first book in his Factory Girl series here:


#WritingWednesday: In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers

Happy Wednesday! I’m using Wednesdays to share some short bursts of the stories I’m working on… because that way, I figure, I’ll be motivated to keep working on them

Right now (besides the Smith and Skarry adventures, which get quite enough attention in my other posts) I’m working on an LGBTQIA+ Mythpunk standalone novel called In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers whose central themes are identity, voice and power.

It’s based in a world where Time grows like grass and is harvested, where people of the four cities – Gnarl, Ash, Slain and Caligari – wear their whole lives on their backs in the form of patchwork story Cloaks. Those who don’t have a Cloak, have no clue as to who they are. Those who have Cloaks guard them jealously for fear of the desperate Daggers who would steal them for themselves.

The novel is divided into four books – The Book Of Bujo (which btw is a complicated word whose closest meaning would be heist/ joke/ prank/ trick), The Book Of Scales, The Book of Feathers and The Book Of End – but in the opening the reader finds themselves in a burned down library where the pages of all these books have been scattered, charred and disarrayed across the floor so the narrative has to be pieced together in fragments and the time line dawns slowly rather than being obvious from the start.

It’s ambitious, I’m scared about failing at the vision I’m aiming for, but I love pushing the boundaries of what I can do and I’ve done similar things with short stories so I really hope I can make it work, let’s see… This is the next extract, you can find the previous part here: #WritingWednesday: In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers 

Victorian Steampunk Plague Doctor Assassin

 

The Grass Temple had to take care ; the winds that swept across The Sea Glass Isle were perfect for high speed Kiting but when you were made of grass, wind was never going to be your ally. 

‘Weave me,’ The Grass Temple thought with all her strength, “weave me stronger my little ones, my wee, wee priests and priestesses who scuttle through my hollows and who build and mould and create and destroy and create me new again, weave me firm against this gale.” 

The Grass Temple had no idea whether the creatures who dwelt inside her heard her thoughts. Sometimes it seemed they did her bidding; seemingly miraculous coincidences once or twice had almost convinced her to adopt an unshakable faith in that fact… but more often they wove and snipped and clipped and trimmed and embellished and refurbished and went on about their days seemingly oblivious to her attempts at communication. 

The Grass Temple was certain that they were oblivious right now to her – and their own – impending doom at the hands of the violent gusts  which tugged and teased and threw the long multicoloured tendrils of her form every way they pleased. 

‘Weave!’ The Grass Temple pleaded, looking desperately around the Kite for shelter. She had not been with the others long, they had rescued her from a group of Daggers who, not content with cutting off her Cloak, had begun to pull her apart just for the fun of it. 

She treasured that day in her memory; The swift blades of The Duchess, the bellow of The Magon’s rage as they chased the last of her assailants off into the knotted city walkways, the dashing Kesili as they lifted her in strong arms to safety and the mocking wit of The Dragpie whose scathing curses followed The Daggers’ heels off into the gloom. 

She had known who she was before that… at least, she had known what Her Cloak said about her, and she had believed it. The Grass Temple was one of the lucky few who had grown a Cloak from her shoulder blades when the sky had shattered and the voices had all been sealed away by The Alchemists, for the protection of The People.

No one with a cloak doubted that the embroidered patches of words and pictures told the story of who they were, what they had done and what they would do in the future. They immediately began adding to them, recording their daily escapades and  achievements and each patch they added became an intrinsic part of their own, true self. 

The Grass Temple remembered all this, she remembered the thrill of adding each new segment of fabric to her frame … but nothing else; whatever those pictures and words had said about her was now gone, all except a few tattered fragments that still clung to her back… a black and white bird … a dragon… a windmill… a seed… a tree… and one beautiful golden eye…  

That was what Daggers did – having no Cloaks of their own and no clue to their own identity or purpose the people of The Four Cities were left with several choices ; Daggers chose to cut the Cloaks of others and steal a history for themselves. Of course the Cloaks didn’t graft onto their flesh and truly become their own, but no one would know the difference unless they looked closely. The Dragpie had said that there were even Daggers who cut Cloaks into fragments and traded them on, and that some Daggers actually had Cloaks themselves but coveted and stole more illustrious or exciting parts of the stories of others. 

The Grass Temple didn’t have a mouth to smile with just now, but she felt the smile rise inside her all the same ; she was safe, the crew of The Land Kite had welcomed her like a sister and, they had promised, they would help her recover her lost Cloak – piece by piece if necessary – from the Daggers’ who’d stolen it.

 

There you go, I hope you enjoyed reading the next little extract and thankyou so so much for taking the time to read along and for all your kind ‘likes’ and words of support and encouragement- they keep me going!  🙂 What are you writing at the moment? Feel free to share links to your own works in progress or Writing Wednesday posts in the comments 🙂

Blessings on all your writing endeavours!


#WritingWednesday: In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers

Happy Wednesday! I’m using Wednesdays to share some short bursts of the stories I’m working on… because that way, I figure, I’ll be motivated to keep working on them

Right now (besides the Smith and Skarry adventures, which get quite enough attention in my other posts) I’m working on an LGBTQIA+ Mythpunk standalone novel called In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers whose central themes are identity, voice and power.

It’s based in a world where Time grows like grass and is harvested, where people of the four cities – Gnarl, Ash, Slain and Caligari – wear their whole lives on their backs in the form of patchwork story Cloaks. Those who don’t have a Cloak, have no clue as to who they are. Those who have Cloaks guard them jealously for fear of the desperate Daggers who would steal them for themselves.

The novel is divided into four books – The Book Of Bujo (which btw is a complicated word whose closest meaning would be heist/ joke/ prank/ trick), The Book Of Scales, The Book of Feathers and The Book Of End – but in the opening the reader finds themselves in a burned down library where the pages of all these books have been scattered, charred and disarrayed across the floor so the narrative has to be pieced together in fragments and the time line dawns slowly rather than being obvious from the start.

It’s ambitious, I’m scared about failing at the vision I’m aiming for, but I love pushing the boundaries of what I can do and I’ve done similar things with short stories so I really hope I can make it work, let’s see… This is the fifth extract, you can find the fourth part here: #WritingWednesday: In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers

 

Victorian Steampunk Plague Doctor Assassin

 

The Duchess listened to the wind screaming protest against the canvas of the Land Kite sail. There was no other obstacle to its passage across the Seaglass Isle for another six or so kilometers ; then it would shatter into gusts against the buttresses of Gnarl and howl, fragmented and broken as the citizens, through the twisted streets, biting flesh in ire at the city’s presence here in its domain.

She frowned beneath her black leather beaked mask ; Nav had indicated that this would be their last foray into Gnarl and while the others had all made at least some progress here, The Duchess would be heading to Caligari with no further clue as to who, or what, she was, or might once have been. It was a vexing situation and beneath her black lace gloves her mechanical hands bawled unconsciously into fists, betraying her frustration.

 She could sway them to stay a little longer ; even The Magon, with all their great strength, was no match for her bladecraft… but that wasn’t the way this worked. The Navigator could see things hidden in The Shattered Sky ; patterns and signs encrypted in the miasma of scales and feathers which rolled above the land in prismatic clouds – a denundated landscape of shifting grains. 

The Navigator knew exactly where they should go next and what they should do when they got there and they’d all learnt the hard way that following her guidance was always the sensible option ; The Grass Temple had been a mistake but it wasn’t ever going to be repeated, if The Navigator said it was time to move on, then that was what they would do.

 

There you go, I hope you enjoyed reading the next little extract 🙂 What are you writing at the moment? Feel free to share links to your own works in progress or Writing Wednesday posts in the comments 🙂

Blessings on all your writing endeavours!


#WritingWednesday: In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers

Happy Wednesday! I’m using Wednesdays to share some short bursts of the stories I’m working on… because that way, I figure, I’ll be motivated to keep working on them 🙂

Right now (besides the Smith and Skarry adventures, which get quite enough attention in my other posts) I’m working on an LGBTQIA+  Mythpunk standalone novel called In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers whose central themes are identity, voice and power.

It’s based in a world where Time grows like grass and is harvested, where people of the four cities – Gnarl, Ash, Slain and Caligari – wear their whole lives on their backs in the form of patchwork story Cloaks. Those who don’t have a Cloak, have no clue as to who they are. Those who have Cloaks guard them jealously for fear of the desperate Daggers who would steal them for themselves.

The novel is divided into four books – The Book Of Bujo (which btw is a complicated word whose closest meaning would be heist/ joke/ prank/ trick), The Book Of Scales, The Book of Feathers and The Book Of End – but in the opening the reader finds themselves in a burned down library where the pages of all these books have been scattered, charred and disarrayed across the floor so the narrative has to be pieced together in fragments and the time line dawns slowly rather than being obvious from the start.

It’s ambitious, I’m scared about failing at the vision I’m aiming for, but I love pushing the boundaries of what I can do and I’ve done similar things with short stories so I really hope I can make it work, let’s see… This is the third extract, you can find the second part here: #WritingWednesday: In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers

 

The Dragpie smiled, preened their beautiful head of mingled short dark hair and purple-green feathers and drew a corked vial from a concealed leather pouch within their waistcoat. They shook it and scrutinised its contents with anthracite eyes in the dagger wounds of light and shadow that scarred the swaying boards of the rolling Land Kite. “Hm, and who will speak for me today? Or who will I speak for? Who is really controlling who in this game I wonder? Who…”

“Who ever said it was your turn to talk, dick?” The Magon’s own voice was little more than a whisper but their mountain of scale-covered flesh invited no protest as they snatched the vial from their stunned and indignant companion. 

“But, but, but… I haven’t finished! And my voice is running out…I can feel it…listen!”

“You stole the last two turns, dip-shit, you speak more than the rest of us put..pu…” the last word was lost in silent breath and the Magon glowered and tried again ; the strain visible in beads of sweat on their flushed temples.

 

There you go, I hope you enjoyed reading the next little extract 🙂 What are you writing at the moment? Feel free to share links to your own works in progress or Writing Wednesday posts in the comments 🙂

Blessings on all your writing endeavours!


Lovely Library: A Wizard’s Quandary

Good evening and welcome to my awe inspiring athenaeum of praiseworthy pamphlets – or as that ridiculous octopus calls it, my ‘lovely library.’

old-library-1571043

I am the ghost of Perilous Wight and here in the bowels of the city of Lancaster, in the disused tunnels of an underground train system that never was, I have made it my mission to collect, catalogue and review every book that our self-proclaimed ‘supreme ruler of the universe’ and his mincing minions have banned from the bookshelves of the new world.

 

But I have not always been a bad tempered ghost in charge of an underground library. Once upon a time I was a bad tempered gentleman who had devoted his life to the collection of evidence which might perhaps one day bring about the downfall of our oppressive overlord, Wiz.

 

Not to be put off by death, I have struggled to find a way to continue my work and I have indeed found a method by which I can sporadically leave this library, to which I am otherwise bound, and travel abroad.

 

This method is known as The Opprobrious Pith Helmet.

 

By securing the services of a less than reputable Wizard I have had my soul partially bound to an ancient piece of explorational headwear and am therefore able to possess the wearer for short periods of time, with their consent…hm? Did I have to drug them first? Well how very rude of you of course I did not have to drug them…I mean the very idea!

 

So, this evening I am most honoured to be occupying the form of  authour Guy Donovan and I… no those are NOT blood stains on his shirt. It is red paint. I may have had a very minor altercation with a disgruntled barge woman who mistook my innocent enquiries about leather bound tomes for something else entirely, but I managed to set her straight in the end… after I’d clambered out of the canal and removed most of the pond weed.

 

Anyway I do not have time for an interrogation on the moral use of other people’s bodies, can you not see that I have just returned from a most important business trip? I have new books everywhere and I must review and catalogue them  and… what’s that? What are you wittering about? Help? You’d like to help me transcribe? You’ve brought along some single malt to keep out the chills as we work?

Oh.

Well, I suppose that puts a very different slant on things doesn’t it? Very well then, I will dictate a short extract of each story and a review, and you can pour…I mean type… a-hem…

A WIZARD’S QUANDARY BY JAQ D HAWKINS

The story concerns the wizard Lesana, who is employed by her local king to keep him in potions that preserve his youth. She lives alone in her tower far from the capitol, unless of course you count the small, green dragon in her keeping that she found as a hatchling and named Khadri. No one but Lesana knows about Khadri, and they both intend to keep it that way. If the king found out about him…well, you can guess what would happen, right?
Then one day, a soldier comes from the capitol with orders to take Lesana to the king and teach him how to make her magic potions for himself. Naturally enough, Lesana isn’t very interested in doing anything of the sort, so she and Khadri abscond, with the soldier pursuing them into the mountains—the same mountains in which Lesana found Khadri. The mountains where the dragons live.
What I liked most about the story is the relationship between Lesana and Khadri. It’s very playful and touches on maternal without ever getting cloying. The below sample shows that very well, I think.
*****
Lesana peered carefully into the crucible, closely observing the swirling, black mass within.
“If that pops, you could lose an eye.” Khadri, Lesana’s miniature green dragon companion, hopped onto Lesana’s shoulder, causing her to brace herself against the weight of an animal the size of a full-grown wolverine. He glanced at the churning elixir.
Lesana pulled her head back a little, but continued frowning at the crucible.
“Your eyes see more colours than mine,” she stated aloud. “Can you see any hint of vermilion?”
Khadri danced around on his shoulder perch, pretending not to notice when Lesana steeled herself against the new claw punctures in her partially healed, damaged skin.
“I see the red glowing crystals forming rapidly, as always. You’ve never failed in your efforts to make the Philosopher’s Stone to my knowledge.”
Lesana smirked.
“You should have seen my early efforts, when you were just a hatchling,” she replied. “It’s more by luck than judgement that I never blew up the entire tower.”
“It’s a dangerous business,” Khadri acknowledged. “I don’t see why the king doesn’t just send you to Egypt to retrieve the cinnabar from mummy wrappings.”
Lesana guffawed, pushing herself away from the table where the crucible continued to send sulphuric vapour into the close space of the uppermost tower room where she kept her laboratory, just in case. Fire and explosions tended to travel upwards.
“I can just see the Egyptian Department of Antiquities allowing a foreign wizard to help herself to the preservatives in their precious national tourist industry. Last I heard they didn’t even know the nature of the red ochre. I’d rather not be the one to explain that they’ve had the key to immortality within their relics all this time.”
She wandered to the arched window that looked out over the dead forest to the north. The elevation provided by the fifth level tower room allowed Lesana to see the Crystal Mountains in the distance. A wistful note entered her voice.
“Besides, if I ever leave the king’s employ and travel somewhere, I’d like to go back to the Crystal Mountains.”
“Where you found me?” Khadri gasped. “The dragons would eat you!”
“Perhaps,” Lesana admitted. “But they didn’t before. I felt something while I was there. Something…magical.”
*****
Being a writer of dragon tales myself, (I grew up reading Anne McCaffrey’s fantastic Pern series and the influence shows) I think it’s very important that they be treated as characters in their own right, rather than simply bestial antagonists. Now that’s not to say that dragons can’t be the bad guy! I just think that they’re better storywise when they are presented as more than mere powerful animals. Besides, being that us humans are so good at being bad, I prefer stories where the dragons are more noble. Jaq D. Hawkins did that very well.

 

And I think we had better leave it there for this evening don’t you? The bottle is dry and I must be getting this body back to its rightful owner… hm? What’s that you say? You don’t think I should give it back in this state? Well we’ve only had a few haven’t we? It is hardly my fault if Guy can’t hold his liquor… hic…

 

MANY THANKS TO AUTHOUR GUY DONOVAN FOR BEING A FABULOUS SPORT AND SHARING HIS REVIEW IN PERIL’S LOVELY LIBRARY! YOU CAN FIND GUY HERE

AMAZON AUTHOUR PAGE

FACEBOOK PAGE

AND YOU CAN READ THE REST OF A WIZARD’S QUANDARY IN THE DREAMTIME DAMSELS ANTHOLOGY HERE:

 

library image courtesy of http://www.freeimages.com


#WritingWednesday: In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers

Happy Wednesday! I’m using Wednesdays to share some short bursts of the stories I’m working on… because that way, I figure, I’ll be motivated to keep working on them 🙂

Right now (besides the Smith and Skarry adventures, which get quite enough attention in my other posts) I’m working on an LGBTQIA+  Mythpunk standalone novel called In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers whose central themes are identity, voice and power.

It’s based in a world where Time grows like grass and is harvested, where people of the four cities – Gnarl, Ash, Slain and Caligari – wear their whole lives on their backs in the form of patchwork story Cloaks. Those who don’t have a Cloak, have no clue as to who they are. Those who have Cloaks guard them jealously for fear of the desperate Daggers who would steal them for themselves.

The novel is divided into four books – The Book Of Bujo (which btw is a complicated word whose closest meaning would be heist/ joke/ prank/ trick), The Book Of Scales, The Book of Feathers and The Book Of End – but in the opening the reader finds themselves in a burned down library where the pages of all these books have been scattered, charred and disarrayed across the floor so the narrative has to be pieced together in fragments and the time line dawns slowly rather than being obvious from the start.

It’s ambitious, I’m scared about failing at the vision I’m aiming for, but I love pushing the boundaries of what I can do and I’ve done similar things with short stories so I really hope I can make it work, let’s see… This is the second extract, you can find the first part here: #WritingWednesday: In The Cities Of Cloaks And Daggers

Victorian Steampunk Plague Doctor Assassin

 

THE BOOK OF SCALES

 

Across The Sea Glass Isle

The Dragpie held the purple-black beetle between their slender, smokey, claw-like fingers and studied its jewelish iridescence in the deep, bleeding light. 

Somewhere a sun must be setting to cast such refracted shadows across the Marrow Roads, but that meant nothing ; the Dragpie’s mouth twisted upwards in a bitter smile – as if time were a thing that could be measured by the fickle motions of celestials from beyond The Shattered Sky.

‘So pretty,” The Dragpie sighed, contemplating the bug once more, “Soooooo, soooo pretty,” and then they squeezed; spilling black insectine blood in a thick ooze over their fingertips. 

“But,” The Dragpie cocked their head on one side as they smeared the khol-dark liquid under their eyeline and swept it up to their temples in what they considered a ferociously artistic motion, “this is war, and if you are going to persist in biting my arse all night, little bastards, then I am going to have to make your moral education my highest priority,” they wiped their fingers on dark leather trousers that were several decades past their prime, “consider this exercise less ‘corporal punishment’ and more ‘ascending to a higher realm of utility..” they mused, examining the effect in the distorted glass of a broken blue bottle. 

 

There you go, I hope you enjoyed reading the opening 🙂 What are you writing at the moment? Feel free to share links to your own works in progress or Writing Wednesday posts in the comments 🙂

Blessings on all your writing endeavours!


Lovely Library: Muliebral The Bald… oops, I mean Bold, sorry!

Good evening and welcome to my awe inspiring athenaeum of praiseworthy pamphlets – or as that ridiculous octopus calls it, my ‘lovely library.’ 

old-library-1571043.jpg

I am the ghost of Perilous Wight and here in the bowels of the city of Lancaster, in the disused tunnels of an underground train system that never was, I have made it my mission to collect, catalogue and review every book that our self-proclaimed ‘supreme ruler of the universe’ and his mincing minions have banned from the bookshelves of the new world.

 

But I have not always been a bad tempered ghost in charge of an underground library. Once upon a time I was a bad tempered gentleman who had devoted his life to the collection of evidence which might perhaps one day bring about the downfall of our oppressive overlord, Wiz.

 

Not to be put off by death, I have struggled to find a way to continue my work and I have indeed found a method by which I can sporadically leave this library, to which I am otherwise bound, and travel abroad.

 

This method is known as The Opprobrious Pith Helmet.

 

By securing the services of a less than reputable Wizard I have had my soul partially bound to an ancient piece of explorational headwear and am therefore able to possess the wearer for short periods of time, with their consent…hm? Did I have to drug them first? Well how very rude of you of course I did not have to drug them…I mean the very idea! 

 

So this evening, I most honoured to be occupying the form of  authour Jaq D Hawkins and I… yes her hair is supposed to look like that. I think. Well, alright there may have been a very minor altercation with a disgruntled Bar Keep who mistook my innocent enquiries about leather bound tomes for something else entirely, but I managed to set him straight in the end… no, no those are not bruises on her knuckles, I didn’t hit him that hard. 

 

Anyway I do not have time for an interrogation on the moral use of other people’s bodies, can you not see that I have just returned from a most important business trip? I have new books everywhere and I must review and catalogue them  and… what’s that? What are you wittering about? Help? You’d like to help me transcribe? You’ve brought along some cherry brandy to keep out the chills as we work?

Oh.

Well, I suppose that puts a very different slant on things doesn’t it? Very well then, I will dictate a short extract of each story and a review, and you can pour…I mean type… a-hem… 

 

Nav Logan has an undeniable talent for comedy. I first came across this author when we were both invited to submit stories for the Dreamtime Dragons Anthology. I was well impressed that he was able to make getting eaten by a dragon funny!

 

Muliebral the Bald (or Bold) has compounded my opinion that Logan could give Terry Pratchett some serious competition in the area of human observation comedy, while setting the story within a believable historical fiction context. He can even do the accents while keeping them understandable, no small feat!

 

The story is about a king who has two daughters whom he feels he must marry off to generate heirs in the old Medieval patriarchal system. However, the girls are good fighters, being descendants of Boudicca and all, and Muliebral, more than her sister Chastity, sees no reason why they need a man to protect them or fill the role of heir to the kingdom.

 

Her basic attitude is summed up in a quote from her maternal grandmother, who clearly never approved of her daughter’s choice of husband, king or not:

 

Todhmhii’s (Tommy) one regret was that he had no sons to pass his kingdom on to. His wife, Hayleigh, had given him two daughters: Chastity and Muliebral, and they were as different as chalk and cheese. His mother-in-law, Lannau, regularly and publicly scorned him for his inability to produce any male heirs. 

“If I  told our Hayleigh once, I must have told her a hundred times,” the old hag would mutter to anyone who was daft enough to heed her, “You need to marry a strong virile Iceni man and you’ll be blessed with godlike children, not go gallivanting off with a worthless bog-trotting Briganti brigand who can’t tell the difference between a ewe in heat and a tavern wench! My grandmother, Queen Boudicca, would turn in her grave at the shame of it. Her last surviving kinswoman marrying a foul-mouthed, crotch-dribbling, goat fondler!”

How Mulibral goes about getting around her father’s insistence on following tradition not too subtly reflects a trope popular in Classical stories about strong women, but it is delivered with Logan’s characteristic ribald humour and is entertaining from start to finish. The quality of writing is superb and the characters come to life from the page with seemingly no effort.

 

This is definitely one of my own favourite stories from the collection!

 

And I think we had better leave it there for this evening don’t you? The bottle is dry and I must be getting this body back to its rightful owner… hm? What’s that you say? You don’t think I should give it back in this state? Well we’ve only had a few haven’t we? It is hardly my fault if Jaq is a light weight… hic… 

 

MANY THANKS TO AUTHOUR JAQ D HAWKINS FOR BEING A FABULOUS SPORT AND SHARING HER REVIEW IN PERIL’S LOVELY LIBRARY! YOU CAN FIND JAQ HERE

:https://www.amazon.co.uk/Jaq-D-Hawkins/e/B0034P4BFI?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1570617386&sr=8-1

 

AND YOU CAN FIND MULIEBRAL THE BALD / BOLD IN THE DREAMTIME DAMSELS ANTHOLOGY HERE…

 

library image courtesy of http://www.freeimages.com by Johnathan Adrianzen


#DreamtimeDamselsAnthology: Elevenses with Marc Vun Kannon

Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Max and Collin’s rambunctiously
raucous and chi-chi to the core parlour located high above it all on board our beautiful
rainbow-sailed ship, The Harlequin Ladybird.
Our tentacles are all of a quiver this morning and our china cups are chattering because
joining us for elevenses this morning we are taking part in the Dreamtime Damsels blog
tour/ internet blitz and we are honoured to have Marc Vun Kannon.
Do please have a seat, (Max, get off the chaise and let them sit down … hm? … no floor cushions are not ‘all the rage’ Max, and that is not a floor cushion it is a cat, just move aside.)

I do apologise, Marc, would you like some tea? Earl Grey? Lapsang? Assam? Darjeeling? Oolong? (Max you have definitely exhausted that comedic avenue)
Earl Grey, please. I love the smell of bergamot in the morning. Well, anytime,
actually.
Marvellous, there you go. Now then , do tell us more about your contribution to this Dreamtime Damsels anthology which are excited to be able to supply the pre-order links for here:

Mine is the story of Sarah Mack, who may turn out to be a fatal femme, but is most
definitely a dangerous damsel. Taken as a baby from her parents shortly after the
Night of Echoes, when magic returned to the world, her parent, mentor, and boss –
known only as Mr. Tom – has trained her in the gentle arts of magic and thievery,
usually in combination. One of the few who possess psychic talents as well as
magical ones, she is sent to Glastonbury Tor in search of a certain, special
something, but what seems a graduation exercise of sorts is really the first step on
a slippery slope of love, revenge, and redemption. I’m just not sure for whom, yet.
Oh did you hear that Max? Doesn’t it sound exciting. What inspired you to write it?

This story is set in the world of my novel Ghostkiller. This story will be the first
chapter of the sequel, when I get around to writing it. The Night of Echoes changed
the world in just so many ways.

I see, how marvellous. And what would you say most influences your writing in general?
No one thing, in particular. While I am willing to take inspiration from any source, I
prefer to blaze my own trail when it comes to the actual telling of the story. My only
rule of writing is, I’ve seen it done once, don’t do it again. I have a huge stash
of material from books, films, TV, and even music in the back of my head, but when
the story brings it forward, I take that as a sign to do something a little different.
Splendid idea! Any authors who have particularly inspired you?
A few, negatively. I’ll do them a favor and not mention them by name. On the
positive side I suppose I could mention L. Frank Baum and Ruth Plumly Thompson,
creators of the Oz books. I grew up with those.
Hm. Excellent. (No he does not want to hear your poetry Max, we had quite enough of that yesterday) Battenburg?
Certainly. Never tried that before.
Well, it doesn’t usually have as many hairs in it as this slice but the galley cats are incorrigible gluttons. You know, writing is something I’ve always fancied turning my talents to – having so many tentacles I imagine I could be quite productive as an author. Tell me, what was your own road into fiction writing like?
Unplanned. It started with some dreams. I don’t normally remember those. When I
mentioned them to my wife she said, that sounds like it make a good book. A few days later I had a sentence in my head. I wrote it down and said now what? With no
writing classes or experience to speak of, I developed my whole technique based on
the books I’d read, and what I did and did not like about them. Basically, the story
came up to me and said ‘you will write me!’ Ever since, it’s been one story after
another.

Excellent! It sounds like fate! And do you have any plans for new projects in the near future?
Oo, well, ‘plans’ is a hard word. I’m a total pantser, I have no plans for anything, not
even the book I’m in the middle of writing. Inspiration can come from anywhere,
though, all you have to do is pay attention to your life. My stories are always growing, too. ‘Sleeping Dragon’ is an example of that.
So, where can we find your work?
All of my work is available on Amazon. I’ve recently taken to self-publishing, and I’ve also had my stories appear in a number of magazines lately as well. I’ve got a link around here somewhere…
https://www.amazon.com/Vun-Kannon-Marc/e/B0076OUKWQ
Oh thankyou… Wooooah! Dear me I do apologise, the airship must have slipped and I seem to have landed in your lap I hope I haven’t covered you in octopus slime?
Not at all, not all. (brush, wipe) What’s a little octopus slime between friends?
Are you sure you’re alright? Hm, what’s that? Time you were going? Are you sure I can’t
tempt you with another cup?
Sorry, but there’s octopus slime in my bergamot. Maybe another time…
Oh dear, Max I do believe the rumours of your awful poetry and your clumsy antics at the tea table  have scared off yet another of our guests. You really must learn to behave yourself In Company.
Thank you, friends for joining us this morning on board our beautiful rainbow sailed ship,The Harlequin Ladybird, you will find all the blog posts so far on the Dreamtime Damsels blog tour listed below and until we see you again,

please remain always,

Utterly Yourself

Mary Woldering hosts the first round of character interviews 

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Red, The Wolf

Mary Woldering hosts the second round of character interviews

Our own kitchen witch interviews Nav Logan

Nav Logan joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Dangerous by Morgan Smith

Mary Woldering hosts the next round of character interviews

A.M Young joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Benjamin Towe joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Cover reveal from The Benthic Times

Cover reveal from Collin on The Harlequin Ladybird

Mary Woldering hosts the next round of Character interviews

Jaq D Hawkins helps Mrs Baker to dish up some tasty soup

Paul Michael joins us for elevenses

#Twitterinterview with the authours

Guy Donovan joins us for elevenses

Nimue Brown causes havoc with her tentacles


#DreamtimeDamselsAnthology blog tour: Elevenses with Nimue Brown

Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Max and Collin’s rambunctiously raucous and chi-chi to the core parlour located high above it all on board our beautiful rainbow-sailed ship, The Harlequin Ladybird.

Our tentacles are all of a quiver this morning and our china cups are chattering because we are still taking part in the Dreamtime Damsels blog tour and we are honoured (and not even slightly alarmed) to have our very dear friend the infamous lunatic and cheese fiend Nimue Brown joining us for elevenses this morning.

Do please put down that lethal looking collection of cutlery, My Dear, and have a seat, (Max, get off the chaise and let her sit down before she takes off a tentacle with that spoon… hm? … no she can’t sit on your lap, just move aside.)

Would you like tea? Earl Grey? Lapsang? Assam? Darjeeling? Oolong? (Max that joke is wearing decidedly thin now)

Earl Grey is my tea of preference, very strong and with no milk in it. Thank you!

I have never understood this human penchant for putting dairy products into hot beverages, there you go my dear, one Naked Earl. (Max get up off the floor I don’t know what you are finding so amusing)

Now then , do tell us more about your contribution to this Dreamtime Damsels anthology which we are now happily able to provide the pre-order links for here…

 

Well, it is a Hopeless Maine tale, in essence the aftermath of a tragic love story between a giant tentacled sky beast and a hot air balloon. We probably don’t have enough stories about the sort of mopping up other people have to do when love gets out of hand.

Ah, alas, those of us with tentacles have perhaps the most tragic tales to tell… was this story semi-autobiographical?

I was colouring on the Hopeless Maine graphic novel series, and a conversation between Sal and Owen popped into my head in which she was complaining bitterly about his wet hair slapping her in the face, and as I pulled back from this scene, I could see what they were dealing with and it was large, and messy and there were tentacles and bits of rope everywhere….

Max don’t be so rude it does NOT sound like my bedroom on a Sunday morning! Let us just ignore his idiotic remarks – what would you say most influences your writing in general?

Coffee. Tom Brown. Not being able to afford therapy. Being allowed to kill people with absolutely no consequences… I should probably stop there.

I see… Nimue I’m so sorry, I have just noticed that these cake knives seem to be tarnished, I will just put them away out of reach… er, I mean, sight… a-hem… Any authours who have particularly inspired you? (Max put your battered old notebook away, you are not an authour.)

A the moment I am particularly in love with the work of Penny Blake, Carol Lovekin, Alan Garner, Meredith Debonnaire, Margaret Attwood, Robin Treefellow Collins, Adam Horovitz, Nils Nis Visser, Mark Lawrence, Ursula Le Guinn, I could go on listing for pages, I read widely and a lot and am fairly omnivorous…

Hm. Excellent. (No she does not want to hear your dreadful poetry, Max, even if it is about cheese, stop interrupting) Battenburg?

Splendid! Would it be a terrible time to mention how much I like poetry? And also very bad poetry. The worse the better, in fact.

Oh gods above and below, woman, what have you done?

[HISTORIC MOMENT AS MAX SPEAKS OUT LOUD FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER TO ANYONE BUT COLLIN, LEAPS ON THE TABLE, KICKS OVER A TEAPOT AND BEGINS TO READ A TERRIBLE POEM ABOUT CHEESE]

En Route To The Fromagian Ball”

(A Political Poem Of The Mor Irate Revolution by Eightcups Max)

As I waited for the Tyburn Tree

To spread its limbs and welcome me

To its embrace eternally

I dreamed I journeyed long, to thee

(To dance The Masque at Caerphilly)

I met Morbier on the way

He wore a masque of silver grey

Very smooth he looked, yet grim

And seven rats did follow him

Fat they were, and no surprise

For, despite his mournful sighs,

And as I feasted with my eyes

Yet they with sharp teeth took their prize.

Next came Roqufort and he had on,

All speckled with viridian,

A gown so tattered, holed and frayed

I wondered not he looked dismayed….

MAX THAT IS ENOUGH!! STOP, DESIST, HALT, MY DELICATE SENSIBILITIES CANNOT TAKE ANOTHER CHEESY SYLLABLE!

Good grief, I had forgotten what a terrible influence you are on him, I am certain the world needs no more dirges on the evils of cheese and more sonnets to folk with slime and tentacles, it quite makes me think of taking up the quill myself. Tell me, what was your own road into fiction writing like?

I started out with some notions about being a serious novelist – I was young, and foolish back in those days. By the age of 23 I had been rejected by every major publishnig house in the UK. Then I discovered both the internet, and smut – they both got moving at the same time in an entirely connected way… and I wrote weird, gothic filth for a while, and weird fantasy ebooks, and then I met Tom online and he persuaded me that a weird, gothic graphic novel series was something I should write. Since then I’ve ambled into steampunk, and non-fiction. In essence, I will do almost anything for money, and absolutely anything that strikes me as amusing at the time!

Yeeeees, I shall never quite recover from that street corner encounter a year or so back… and do you have any plans for new projects in the near future? Writng-wise I mean and not in anyway involving cheese or street corners…

There’s more Hopeless Maine graphic novels on the ways and an illustrated prose book in the setting – New England Gothic. I want to get into light novels and I want to write about darkness in a way that deconstructs that racist light/white/good stuff.  I’m working on content for the Hopeless Maine role play game, I want to write a murder mystery evening event script, and I’m working on poetry that explores the wildness and naturalness of human bodies… 

Well, if you’re looking for something wild and natural to do a project on, I would be happy to offer my services as a subject for study… no? Oh well, no pleasing some folk I suppose. So, where can we get our tentacles on your own work?

Much of it can be bought from anywhere selling books – I work well in search engines, you can find me with relatively little pain!

 

And can we find you online?

www.druidlife.wordpress.com

www.hopelessvendetta.wordpress.com

https://twitter.com/Nimue_B

https://www.facebook.com/nimue.brown

https://www.instagram.com/nimuebrown/

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC2iAnLZ1JJzOfltGrnS0P8Q

And again, for the dedicated stalker, there’s always a search engine…
Wooooah! Dear me I do apologise, the airship must have slipped and I seem to have landed in your lap I hope I haven’t covered you in octopus slime?

Being a filthy urchin, it would be hard to tell fresh slime from anything else that has happened to my clothing at this stage. 

Are you sure you’re alright? Hm, what’s that? Time you were going? Are you sure I can’t tempt you with another cup?

Well, I have an… assignation with a …. poet…. it’s a full diary here most of the time and I have to spread myself about rather carefully. Which probably sounds at least as bad as it actually is…

Well the best of luck with your Poet Assassination, goodbye! Oh dear, next time she comes I shall lock the cheese in the pantry… and perhaps Max too…

Thank you, friends for bravely enduring the madness this morning on board our beautiful rainbow sailed ship The Harlequin Ladybird, you will find all the blog posts so far on the Dreamtime Damsels blog tour listed below and until we see you again, please remain always

Utterly Yourself

 

Mary Woldering hosts the first round of character interviews 

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Red, The Wolf

Mary Woldering hosts the second round of character interviews

Our own kitchen witch interviews Nav Logan

Nav Logan joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Dangerous by Morgan Smith

Mary Woldering hosts the next round of character interviews

A.M Young joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Benjamin Towe joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Cover reveal from The Benthic Times

Cover reveal from Collin on The Harlequin Ladybird

Mary Woldering hosts the next round of Character interviews

Jaq D Hawkins helps Mrs Baker to dish up some tasty soup

Paul Michael joins us for elevenses

#Twitterinterview with the authours

Guy Donovan joins us for elevenses


#DreamtimeDamselsAnthology: Elevenses with Guy Donovan

Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Max and Collin’s rambunctiously raucous and chi-chi to the core parlour located high above it all on board our beautiful rainbow-sailed ship, The Harlequin Ladybird.

Our tentacles are all of a quiver this morning and our china cups are chattering because we are still taking part in the #DreamtimeDamselsAnthology blog tour and, as you already know if you have been keeping up to speed, we are in the happy position of being able to furnish you with links to the kindle pre-order page right here

Not only that, but joining us for elevenses this morning we are honoured to have Guy Donovan, contributor and cover artist for the anthology!  Do please have a seat, (Max, get off the chaise and let him sit down … hm? … well I’m sorry but the Damsel Of Your Dreams will have to move aside as well, we have a real guest this morning who must take precedence over figments of your unhealthy imagination)
I’m so sorry Guy, would you like some tea? Earl Grey? Lapsang? Assam? Darjeeling? Oolong? (Max don’t be so rude)

Hmm…you wouldn’t happen to have any Chamomile, would you? If not, perhaps a
horn of mead, thanks.

We are not OVERLY fond of herbal concoctions but we do have a little chamomile we use for sedating…ah, that is for soothing  some of our more excitable guests – we have had several try to throw themselves from the deck for some reason.

Now then, do tell us more about your contribution to the Dreamtime Damsels anthology, which we have pre-ordered and simply cannot wait to get our tentacles into!

My story is “Better the Thorn,” and its main character is named Lash. Lash is a
female goblin who was born to the ruling class of fae in her dimension, but was
kidnapped by goblins as a child and eventually accepted a goblin life, even taking
on their form through her own inherent ability to wield magic. The story basically involves her quest to seek revenge against the fae, who she blames for never
having tried to rescue her.

Unfortunately for her, the goblins are a barbaric collective of tribes that war with each other as much as they do the fae, who dominate the world of Faerie as benevolent (though equally fierce when necessary) overlords. Being an adept (a term both fae and goblins use for wizards), Lash has the ability to travel interdimensionally. She uses that ability to travel to Earth, where it is currently the mid 1980-s. There, she infiltrates military bases all around the world to steal human weaponry she can take back to Faerie and use against the more powerful fae.

As the story begins, she has just returned with her latest cache of stolen weapons
when a fae patrol attacks her. She has no choice but to run for the safety of her
fortress in a mountain pass, magically constructed by her over the years using
massive thorn vines and bits of Earth military hardware, including the rusted
superstructure of the battleship Arizona sunk in the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941.
Lash leads the fae on a merry and murderous chase through a variety of booby-
traps laid throughout the forest. In the process, she and the fae both discover
something that seems too fantastic to believe, but might very well bring their years-
long conflict to a head in a way neither of them ever expected.

Oh did you hear that Max? Doesn’t it sound exciting. What inspired you to write it?

I love writing stories that have a grounding in different periods of actual history.
This one originally started out set in the late 1960’s. It was supposed to be about a
little girl running away from her mother on the day they are supposed to go to her
father’s funeral, who died in Vietnam. In her mind, she imagined herself as a vicious and magical goblin being pursued by her fae persecutors. As she tries to evade her mother chasing after her in a wood behind their house, she pretends to lay waste to her enemies using the tools of her dead father’s trade.
Ultimately, I was having a hard time figuring out a way to finish that story without it devolving into a syrupy mess. With the submission deadline approaching, I decided to ditch the little girl concept and write it as a straight fantasy/adventure tale set in the mid-80s, during which time I served in the U.S. Marine Corps myself. I’m happy with it.

I see, so it sounds as though the anthology was the strainer of the ointment, as they say! And what would you say most influences your writing in general?

I’m a military brat, so the many places I’ve lived have a big impact on my work. The
music I’m listening to (almost entirely instrumental) also has a tendency to color my current scene. Otherwise, I take a lot of inspiration from what I see around me while I’m writing. A field full of tiny white butterflies flitting about in pairs, a flock of grouse trying to reach the lowest leaves of a tree in the wintertime (and failing
comically)…these are the sort of incidental things that lend themselves to being
included in what I’m writing as I write it. I also love taking outrageous bits of
dialogue I catch in real life and work it into a story.

Ah yes, we are military coves ourselves (albeit in the republican tea army) and travel extensively as a result, it really is wonderful to have such varied experiences to work into your fiction! And are there any authours who have particularly inspired you?

Lots! Notably, Ray Bradbury, Arthur C. Clarke, Stephen King, Victor Hugo, the list
goes on. On the indie side, authors like W.C. Quick and my co-conspirators in
Dream Time Damsels and Fatal Femmes continue to inspire me, not only to keep
going against the odds, but also to keep trying new things and acquiring new skills.

Ah! An excellent selection! (No he doesn’t want to hear your poetry Max, that doesn’t inspire anyone to do anything except throw themselves from the deck, will you stop interrupting)
Battenburg?

Didn’t he die on a boat? Oh, no…that was Mountbatten. You mean the cake, right?
No thanks, I’m trying to cut back.

That is, as the poet says, “An unfortunate political decision reflecting these times” as we fight for the freedom of every man, woman and child to have their cake and eat it, every man woman and child seems to be on some sort of health fad.

Ah well, back to the subject of writing, you know, writing is something I’ve always fancied turning my talents to – having so many tentacles I imagine I could be quite productive as an author.

Tell me, what was your own road into fiction writing like?

I’ve always been creative, both art and writing, so as a kid in the late 70s, I started
writing (really bad) Star Wars fan fiction. Of course that was pre-Internet, so luckily none of it saw the light of day.

Many years later, I worked in Hollywood as an animator and designer for most of the big studios (Yes, including Disney, but mostly Warner Brothers). Then, right around 9/11, the bottom had fallen out of the animation industry, with most work being sent overseas in order to maximize studio profits. That left a lot of talented artists out of work. Rather than try to make a living as a freelance greeting card designer or decorating cakes for a local baker, I went into a more (mind-numbingly uncreative) direction in order to get a little job and financial security for me and my family.

After a few years of that, having no creative outlet was driving me absolutely
bonkers. Enter my wife, who had been a film editor in Hollywood but had become a
struggling screenwriter after we both left the business. She had recently written a
spec script for a direct-to-video Barbie movie she called “Barbie and the Dragon’s
Treasure.” It hadn’t sold, and she was in the dumps too, looking to maybe get into
indie publishing. I suggested to her that she take her Dragon’s Treasure concept,
mature it up a good bit, and turn that into a novel. It took her all of ten seconds to
say, “Naah. Why don’t you do it though?”
I thought about it for a few days and eventually decided to give it a try. Ten years
later, I’ve just finished the fourth and final of my own series I call “The Dragon’s
Treasure.”
Sales are…elusive, but I feel much better!

Goodness, it sounds like quite a roller coaster ride! And do you have any plans for new projects in the near future?

Oh yes. Having basically immersed myself in 5 th century Wales and Scotland for the last ten years, I’m thinking of doing something drastically different. I’ve got an idea for a Southwest border (USA) werewolf story, and a semi-hard sci-fi story about a 21 st century space truck driver hauling an illegal cargo of…something…to Jupiter. I’ve also got a head full of short story ideas all screaming to get out.

Oh marvellous, we LOVE werewolves, having had one as a butler for a couple of terrifying years!  But perhaps you’d better keep your voice down about the illegal cargo… being as we are on board a pirate ship!

Tell me, where can we find your fiction?

My Amazon author page is at: https://www.amazon.com/Guy-
Donovan/e/B00EO3VRD8?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1565292793&sr=1-1

 

And I’m also on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/The-Dragons-Treasure-
Series-172879129537712/

Oh marvellous, we will certainly check those out… Wooooah! Dear me I do apologise, the airship must have slipped and I seem to have landed in your lap. I hope I haven’t covered you in octopus slime?

Not at all. And I must say that it must be fun being basically a living Slip ‘n’ Slide.

What’s that? You say it’s time you were going? I was going to offer you another cup, but if you insist on leaving, I won’t stop you.

Well, actually I wouldn’t mind another…

Oh really? Max be a dear and pass the chamomile would you (shhh, perhaps add a hefty dose of Valerian to it this time as well!) 

Thank you, friends for joining us this morning on board our beautiful rainbow sailed ship The Harlequin Ladybird, you will find all the blog posts so far on the Dreamtime Damsels blog tour listed below and until we see you again, please remain always

Utterly Yourself

 

Mary Woldering hosts the first round of character interviews 

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Red, The Wolf

Mary Woldering hosts the second round of character interviews

Our own kitchen witch interviews Nav Logan

Nav Logan joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Dangerous by Morgan Smith

Mary Woldering hosts the next round of character interviews

A.M Young joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Benjamin Towe joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Cover reveal from The Benthic Times

Cover reveal from Collin on The Harlequin Ladybird

Mary Woldering hosts the next round of Character interviews

Jaq D Hawkins helps Mrs Baker to dish up some tasty soup

Paul Michael joins us for elevenses


#DreamtimeDamselsAnthology blog tour: Elevenses with Paul Michael

Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Max and Collin’s rambunctiously raucous and chi-chi to the core parlour located high above it all on board our beautiful rainbow-sailed ship, The Harlequin Ladybird.

Our tentacles are all of a quiver this morning and our china cups are chattering because we are still taking part in the #DreamtimeDamselsAnthology blog tour and, as already know if you have been keeping up to speed, we are in the happy position of being able to furnish you with links to the kindle pre-order page right here

 

 

 

Not only that, but we are over the moon to have our good friend Paul Michael joining us for elevenses this morning!

Do please have a seat, Paul,  (Max, get off the chaise and let him sit down … hm? … no he has not brought Miss Henderson with him, and even if he had, Miss Henderson is not a chair, just move aside.)

I’m so sorry about that, would you like tea? Earl Grey? Lapsang? Assam? Darjeeling? Oolong? (Max don’t be rude)

If you have Lady Grey that would be marvellous. I find Earl Grey a bit overstimulating at this time and indeed at this altitude.

Of course, I completely understand, it has taken me, as an octopus, quite a while to get used to the heights myself! There you go. Now then , do tell us more about your contribution to this Dreamtime Damsels anthology– the aether is alive with the gossip!

It’s a strange and terrible story about an innocent young lady who becomes a maid at the strange house of the mysterious Count Vlasko, recently arrived from afar and with an unusual condition that makes him afeared of daylight.

Oh did you hear that Max? Doesn’t it sound exciting. (Hm? Yes your quite right, he does sound a little like our old landlord) What inspired you to write it, Paul?

I wanted to create a short story where the character – a Miss Felicity Henderson – would be in the spotlight. The young maid in question is a recurring character in my Jennings and Jennings story cycle, which is my Magnum Opus.

Indeed! As one magnificent octopus to another, we are very well acquainted with your marvellous mystery series, and with the good lady Miss Henderson (Max will you stop making ridiculously opprobrious remarks) Let us just ignore him, what would you say most influences your writing in general?

 I would say I am driven by the obsessive need to write ridiculous and comical stories in a Gothic style. I have seen several alienists on this topic and they are unable to help, although I did get some punctuation tips from one.

Oh, marvellous! Any authours who have particularly inspired you?

The gravitas of Saki, the feather light touch of Lovecraft, the humour of Poe… all of these have affected me deeply.

Ah yes, you certainly have some of my favourites in that list too… (Hm? Max the only comparison that can be made between your poetry and the writings of such masters of gothic horror is that they all fill One with dread! Now do please stop interrupting). Battenburg?

I haven’t been myself but I hear the statuary is quite something.

Probably very wise, last time I checked it was full of cat hair. But back to the lark of writing, you know, writing is something I’ve always fancied turning my talents to – having so many tentacles I imagine I could be quite productive as an authour. Tell me, what was your own road into fiction writing like?

It was many years ago, as the rain lashed the windows and I stared morosely into the middle distance that I first entertained the idea of writing fiction. Suddenly my mind was filled with feverish visions of a man and a woman determined to fight ancient evil and terrible creatures from beyond. I fell onto the task of writing at once, my hand scratching out words as fast as the thoughts were conjured. As daylight broke, I slumped exhausted onto my writing desk, a thousand page epic created and ready to publish. Alas! In my exhausted state I knocked over the inkwell, turning all the pages black and completely unreadable.

After that I bought a computer and started again at a rather more sedate pace.

My goodness! Well, if it makes you feel any better I too have had many catastrophes caused by uncontrollable outbursts of ink; I’m sure I shall never live down Lady Harrington’s charity ball! And where can we find your published work?

I have absolutely no idea. No wait (rummages in pockets)… it is available from this place in South America… 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Jennings-Paranormal-Investigators-Casebook-One-ebook/dp/B071V9PP6F/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1566288338&sr=8-3

 

And do you have any plans for new projects in the near future?

I am currently writing and serially publishing a novel length story called the Paris Awakening. That is to say, it is a story that is approximately the length of a novel, rather than an usual length. It is part of the aforementioned story cycle, of which the first four novellettes are already collected and published. My collected writings are available at this academic journal of which I am the lead and indeed only writer.

https://thebenthictimes.com/

Oh yes, marvellous, we are avid readers of that marvellous publication and… Wooooah! Dear me I do apologise, the airship must have slipped and I seem to have landed in your lap I hope I haven’t covered you in octopus slime?

In my line of work it is an occupational hazard. I maintain a supply of these eight sided “octochiefs” for exactly these kind of situations.

What a marvellous invention, perhaps we should keep a little store of them here on board for these situations! Now, can I tempt you with another cup of Lady Grey?

Delicious though it was I fear another cup will lead to a dangerous imbalance in my delicate constitution, leading to an outbreak of bilious convunction or possibly a bout of floxy.

But I should like to take this opportunity to thank you for inviting me to your vessel. It has been a great pleasure with only occasional moments of terror.

Oh dear, Max I do believe your threats of imminent and horrific poetry have scared off yet another of our guests. You really must learn to behave yourself ‘In Company.’

Thankyou, friends for joining us this morning on board our beautiful rainbow sailed ship The Harlequin Ladybird, you will find all the blog posts so far on the Dreamtime Damsels blog tour listed below and until we see you again, please remain always

Utterly Yourself

Mary Woldering hosts the first round of character interviews 

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Red, The Wolf

Mary Woldering hosts the second round of character interviews

Our own kitchen witch interviews Nav Logan

Nav Logan joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Dangerous by Morgan Smith

Mary Woldering hosts the next round of character interviews

A.M Young joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Benjamin Towe joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Cover reveal from The Benthic Times

Cover reveal from Collin on The Harlequin Ladybird

Mary Woldering hosts the next round of Character interviews

Jaq D Hawkins helps Mrs Baker to dish up some tasty soup


#DreamtimeDamselsAnthology blog tour: Soup of the day with Jaq D Hawkins

dreamtime damsels anthology

Hello! Mrs Albert Baker here, otherwise known as The Last Witch Of Pendle. Obviously there is no Pendle any more, since The Chronic Agronauts utterly destroyed it with treacle and sprats, but I’ve set myself up quite nicely here in Lancaster, running this little soup kitchen for the street urchins. There certainly are a lot of them and I’m always looking for helping hands to cook up and serve something delicious!

Helping me this morning is another contributor to the Dreamtime Damsels Anthology, Jaq D Hawkins. Thankyou so much for coming to help me in my soup kitchen today, My Dear! May I take your hat and miscellaneous weaponry?

Oh, don’t let the knives frighten you! I’ve got Mars in Pisces, you see. No temper at all. I’ve never injured an interviewer, promise!

Well thank goodness for that! How was your trip from your own dimension? I hope you did not run into any hostile sugar-zombies or sky pirates on your way?

As it happens, I’m an old hitchhiker and I’ve got history with airship pirates, so I hitched a lift on the Persephone. Best rum I ever tasted!

Marvellous! And have you brought along some soup to share with us?

How could I visit a soup kitchen without bringing something to share! This is something a little special from a now extinct restaurant I used to frequent in my youth.

Potage St. Germain (Pea Soup)

Ingredients

1 (1 pound) ham bone

4 1/2 cups water

1 (13 ounce) can chicken broth

2 cups split peas

2/3 cup finely chopped leeks or green onions

1/3 cup finely chopped carrots

1/3 cup finely chopped celery

1 teaspoon granulated sugar

1/2 tsp garlic powder

1 tsp salt

1/4 tsp thyme

Bay leaf

1/2 tsp pepper

2 1/2 cups milk

1 cup whipping cream

1 cup chopped ham, cooked

1/2 cup chopped chicken (cooked) (optional)

Instructions

Place ham bone in large pot. Add water, chicken stock and peas and bring to boil over medium heat.

Reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally for 30 minutes

Saute the onions, carrots and celery just until limp. Add them to the soup pot along with all of the seasoning and continue to simmer until peas are very soft and mixture is thick – about 45 minutes. Remove ham bone. Gradually stir in the milk and cream. Add ham and chicken. Simmer, stirring occasionally, about 10 to 15 minutes. Serve with a dollop of sour cream and a splash of dry sherry, to taste.

Mmm, it smells delicious! I’m sure the little urchins will enjoy it immensely.

You might want to give it an extra splash of sherry to keep them quiet. 😉

Marvellous tip! Now while that is simmering away nicely, why don’t you have a seat by the fire here and tell me a little about the types of fiction that you prefer to write?

In the realm of fiction, I’m basically a Traditional Fantasy writer, though I often lean towards darker themes. Goblins for example, or pirates. My new series will deal heavily with dragons. I’ve also been contributing to a lot of short story anthologies recently and some of those are even Horror.

And I hear you’ve recently made a contribution to the Dreamtime Damsels anthology I’ve heard so much about – would you like to tell us all a little about that?

I was invited to contribute and couldn’t resist, having dealt with the editor on the Dreamtime Dragons anthology and being favourably impressed with his attention to quality and detail. The idea of writing about strong women is a natural for me as I’m pretty resilient myself, but most of my stories so far have featured male protagonists. I decided this would be good practice to develop my female characters more.

Splendid and now I know the book hasn’t actually been released yet but Max and Collin were bragging this morning that they had managed to get their tentacles on a pre-order link for the kindle version?

 

Oh thankyou very much, I will order my own copy post haste! As an adventuress myself, I certainly think it is wonderful to see a fantasy collection where women take the centre stage isn’t it?

It makes a nice change. The Wizard’s Quandary was meant to be a stand alone story, but now it’s inspired me to write a follow-up series, with dragons of course. I think some of them are going to have to be female as well.

Oh dragons are always splendid company… Ah now that’s the kettle boiling, what is your ‘poison’ Dear, and how do you take it?

Usually red wine, not that yuppie Shiraz stuff but a good Malbec. However, as you’ve boiled the kettle, a simple coffee will do. A spoonful of honey please, and a little heavy on the milk.

You are lucky I have just visited The Harlequin and have a plentiful supply of contraband milk! Now, why don’t you tell us all a little more about your own path into fiction writing?

Well that started in childhood. By the time I was in high school I was churning out short stories furiously. It was only natural that I would move on to novels eventually. My goblin world took me there.

Oh my! I have never encountered any goblins personally but they sound terribly exciting and is there anything that particularly inspires you when you write?

Anything. Everything. I hear a phrase and a conversation forms around it. I see a colour and start visualising a scene. Stories go through my head faster than I can write down the notes for them!

That sounds wonderful! Of course we love supporting independent writers, artists and small presses here in Ire; do you have any favourite indie authours who have inspired you or whose work you can recommend?

A large percentage of my reading for enjoyment these days is written by indie authors. The Big 5 have become cautious and keep putting out clones of whatever sold best last week, usually lightweight stuff that doesn’t appeal to me.

Some indie authors I’ve really enjoyed besides the ones contributing to the Dreamtime anthologies include Graeme Reynolds, Shanna Lauffey, Charlton Daines, Jeff Brackett, Lin Senchaid, Lita Burke, Austin Crawley, Frank Tayell and C.M. Gray. I’m sure there are many more on my book shelves but those come to mind.

Splendid, I will be sure to hunt those out – I am always on the look out for a good fireside read to keep me company while I knit or bake. And where can we find more of your own work?

My Amazon page is at

https://www.amazon.com/Jaq-D-Hawkins/e/B0034P4BFI

and my Smashwords page is

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/jaqdhawkins

Then of course there is my website where you can read about anything upcoming at http://jaqdhawkins.com

Ah now that soup smells like it is about ready, would you be so kind as to help me serve it up to the orphans?

Certainly. Don’t forget a dollop of sour cream in each bowl! Dibs on licking the cauldron.

Absoloutely!

Thankyou all for joining us in the soup kitchen this morning. You will find all the blog posts so far on the Dreamtime Damsels blog tour listed below and until we see you again, Blessings On Your Brew My Dears!

 

Mary Woldering hosts the first round of character interviews 

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Red, The Wolf

Mary Woldering hosts the second round of character interviews

Our own kitchen witch interviews Nav Logan

Nav Logan joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Dangerous by Morgan Smith

Mary Woldering hosts the next round of character interviews

A.M Young joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Benjamin Towe joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Cover reveal from The Benthic Times

Cover reveal from Collin on The Harlequin Ladybird


#DreamtimeDamselsAnthology kindle cover reveal and pre-order links!

dreamtime damsels anthology.jpg

Ahoy there sky-ship mates! You must forgive the general hubub, chaos and rampant swooning here on board our beautiful skyship this morning ; we have at last managed to beg, borrow, steal, sway and wrangle our wicked way into procuring a picture of the kindle cover for the new Dreamtime Fantasy Tales anthology which we have all been hearing so much about!

Not only that, but, having promised you last week that we would be docking soon in the treacherous waters of the Amazon and would return with directions to the fabled location of this much sought after tome, we can now proudly furnish you with this as well…

 

Neil Gaiman once said: “I like stories where women save themselves.”

Asked to work with this as guideline, sixteen authors from Canada, the UK, the USA, Ireland, and The Netherlands contributed sixteen stories about strong women, dangerous women, witty women, resourceful women, and most of all realistic women. The stories range from general fantasy to high fantasy to sci-fi to steampunk to horror.

No swooning, no male saviors, and only one token chain mail bikini (and that one is a riot!). Dreamtime Fantasy Tales authors are proud of our final result and sincerely hope you’ll enjoy each and every page.

All proceeds of this anthology have been pledged to an animal rescue shelter which we chose knowing that each and every penny raised will benefit the animals, and not a highly-paid CEO.

Contributors:
Content Editors: Hilary Anderson, Jaq D. Hawkins, Morgan Smith, Guy Donovan, Nils Visser
Cover Art: Guy Donovan
Marketing & PR: Leslie Conzatti, Mary R. Woldering, Penny Blake
Authors: A.M. Young, Guy Donovan, Nimue Brown, Penny Blake, Jaq D. Hawkins, Paul Michael, Leslie Conzatti, Mary R. Woldering, Thomas Woldering, Benjamin Towe, Nils Visser, Greg Alldredge, Johan Klein Haneveld, Marc vun Kannon, Morgan Smith, and Nav Logan.

 

So, there you have it! But the fun is by no means over! We will still be terrorising more of the contributors on board our flying pirate ship for the next two weeks and Mrs Baker will be soothing their souls with the ‘song of the hearth’ (which is soup, by the way, if you are not a fan of Louis Pullig De Gouy)

Thankyou, friends, for joining us this morning on board our beautiful  rainbow sailed sky ship The Harlequin Ladybird, you will find all the blog posts so far on the Dreamtime Damsels blog tour listed below and until we see you again, please remain always

Utterly Yourself

Mary Woldering hosts the first round of character interviews 

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Red, The Wolf

Mary Woldering hosts the second round of character interviews

Our own kitchen witch interviews Nav Logan

Nav Logan joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Dangerous by Morgan Smith

Mary Woldering hosts the next round of character interviews

A.M Young joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Benjamin Towe joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

 


#DreamtimeDamselsAnthology blog tour: Elevenses with A.M. Young

rainbow keeper, put the fairy rainbow on the sky, magic ship in the dreamland, scene from wonderland,

image copyright Nadiaforkosh

Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Max and Collin’s rambunctiously raucous and chi-chi to the core parlour located high above it all on board our beautiful rainbow-sailed ship, The Harlequin Ladybird. Yes that’s right we have escaped our dank cellar and our evil landlord (if you want to know how you will have to read our #RainbowSnippets posts on Saturdays and all will be revealed). So we are now heading the revolution in Ire from the skies – which turns out to be much safer and more fun than heading it from the ground! But never fear, we still have time to stop for elevenses! 
Our tentacles are all of a quiver this morning and our china cups are chattering because we are still taking part in the #DreamtimeDamselsAnthology blog tour and are honoured to have A. M. Young joining us for elevenses today!
Do please have a seat, (Max, get off the chaise and let her sit down … hm? … no she can’t sit on the cats, cats are not cushions, Max, just move aside.)

Sorry about that, would you like tea? Earl Grey? Lapsang? Assam? Darjeeling? Oolong? (Max don’t be rude)

I’m really more of a coffee person myself, but anything dark and strong will do.

Coffee? I’m afraid we have had enough fiasco here with that wretched stuff to last a lifetime, I simply will not have it on board anymore! But if it’s something dark and strong you’re after, well, us octopuses are well known for our muscular physiques, as you can see, and my complexion is certainly  on the shadier side of… oh, I see Max has poured you a strong, black cup of tea already… well…  do tell us more about your contribution to this Dreamtime Damsels anthology we keep hearing about – the aether is alive with the gossip and although we have tried to coax more information out of several of our captives… er… VISITORS…. we still haven’t managed to get our tentacles on a black market copy…

So, my story is called “What They Do Not Tell You” and it’s a retelling of the Pygmalion myth from the statue’s perspective. Arguably, it’s a bit unconventional as it’s written in a kind of monologue from the main character, recounting her creation and the aftermath of becoming a living woman.

Oh did you hear that Max? Doesn’t it sound exciting – we simply adore a bit of mythpunk here on The Harlequin! What inspired you to write it?

I’ve always loved Roman and Greek mythology, and the Pygmalion myth has long been one of my favorites. What author hasn’t wished they could meet one of their characters, right?

Well, of course, or else I suppose I wouldn’t be here talking to you today!

One day a while back I was talking about the myth and I was trying to remember the name of the statue/woman. Resorting to the help of the internet when I failed to recall it, I found that she was known as Galatea. However, that name was actually provided by a scholar centuries after Rome fell; it had no factual basis in the myth at all. And that got me to thinking about how she was represented in the story, how she was so integral and key to Pygmalion’s myth but she never even had a name. The story just spiraled out from there.

Oh my goodness! I feel tears in my eyes! How moving, I can’t wait to read it! And what would you say most influences your writing in general?

I’m still pretty early into my writing career, but one theme that has emerged thus far is that I love examining people making ‘bad’ choices. What I mean by that is the question of “why would someone do that? how could they not see how stupid/pointless/unkind/short-sighted what they’re doing is?” is often key to my stories. I like to examine the emotions and circumstances that drive us to make decisions we often come to regret but also would make again in a heartbeat.

It sounds very interesting, are there any authours who have particularly inspired you?

I think my biggest influences are Stephen King, Tamora Pierce, and Neil Gaiman.

Oh we’re huge Neil Gaiman fans here as well, that is marvellous. Battenburg? Max stop feeding Battenburg to the cats you are getting it all hairy!

No, thank you. Not much of a sweets person.

Suit yourself, ‘all the more for me’ as Professor Elemental would say 😉 You know, writing is something I’ve always fancied turning my talents to – having so many tentacles I imagine I could be quite productive as an authour. Tell me, what was your own road
into fiction writing like?

A bit like a twisting path through a forest. You start down one branch, sure that you know where you’re going (which was writing poetry, in my case), you get lost for a while, decide to just give up and live by the quaint little pond you’ve found, and then one day while climbing a tree you realize you can see a path again just past that copse of spruce trees. When I went back to school to finish my undergrad degree, I decided to commit to fiction writing even though I had very little practice or experience in it because all of my ideas had just gotten far too large and detailed for poetry. I’ve been a storyteller ever since.

It sounds like quite an adventurous life indeed! And do you have any plans for new projects in the near future?

I have a novella draft that’s waiting for the revision process to begin. I also have an idea for a novel in my back pocket, but I’m not quite ready to start that one yet. And I have plenty of little ideas that may or may not unfurl into full-on short stories one day. We’ll just have to see what happens.

So, where can we get our tentacles on a copy of this delightful collection?

Image may contain: 1 person, text that says 'Dreamtime Fantasy Tales authors are proud to DREAMTIME present their anthology & FATAL FEMMES With stories by: Greg Alldredge Penny Blake Nimue Brown Leslie Conzatti Guy Donovan Johan Klein Haneveld Jaq D Hawkins Marc vun Kannon Nav Logan Paul Michael Morgan Smith Benjamin Towe Expected Nils Visser Mary R. Woldering SEPTEMBER 2019 Thomas Woldering A.M. Young'

I believe Amazon as well as Barnes & Noble will be the most familiar to the general
reader. There may be other, better sources that I am unaware of currently.

Ah yes, many is the time we have trekked into the Amazon on a search for treasure filled tomes. Never fear, friends, as soon as this book is published we will don our pith helmets post haste and return swiftly with a map (or perhaps even a link) to its whereabouts! 😉 And in the meantime, what about your own work, where can we find more of that?

I actually don’t post my own writings much. However, I did have a flash fiction story
published last year by Underground Art and Literary Journal of Georgia State University.
You can read that online at their website: undergroundjournal.org

Mavellous, we’ll be sure to have a look at…. Wooooah! Dear me I do apologise, the airship must have slipped and I seem to have landed in your lap I hope I haven’t covered you in octopus slime?

That’s quite all right! I’m sure it will wash out just fine.

Are you sure you’re alright? I’m sure Max can lend you a dress if you want to soak out the stain? Hm, what’s that? Time you were going? Are you sure I can’t tempt you with another cup?

Thank you, but I really must get back to ground. I think I see storm clouds rolling in, and I get terrible motion sickness when there’s turbulence. Thank you so much for the
interview!

Oh dear, Max I do believe your awful tea-making skills and ill-concealed cat obsession has scared off yet another of our guests. You really must learn to behave yourself ‘In Company.’

Thankyou, friends for joining us this morning on board our beautiful rainbow sailed sky ship The Harlequin Ladybird, you will find all the blog posts so far on the Dreamtime Damsels blog tour listed below and until we meet again,

Please remain always,

Utterly Yourself

 

Mary Woldering hosts the first round of character interviews 

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Red, The Wolf

Mary Woldering hosts the second round of character interviews

Our own kitchen witch interviews Nav Logan

Nav Logan joins us for elevenses on The Harlequin

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Dangerous by Morgan Smith


#DreamtimeDamselsAnthology blog tour: Elevenses with Nav Logan

rainbow keeper, put the fairy rainbow on the sky, magic ship in the dreamland, scene from wonderland,

Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Max and Collin’s rambunctiously raucous and chi-chi to the core parlour located high above it all on board our beautiful rainbow-sailed ship, The Harlequin Ladybird. Yes that’s right we have escaped our dank cellar and our evil landlord (if you want to know how you will have to read our #RainbowSnippets posts on Saturdays and all will be revealed). So we are now heading the revolution in Ire from the skies – which turns out to be much safer and more fun than heading it from the ground! But never fear, we still have time to stop for elevenses! 

Our tentacles are all of a quiver this morning and our china cups are chattering because this morning we are taking part in the Dreamtime Damsels blog tour and we are honoured to have one of the contributors, Nav Logan, as our guest for elevenses!

Image may contain: 1 person, text that says 'Dreamtime Fantasy Tales authors are proud to DREAMTIME present their anthology & FATAL FEMMES With stories by: Greg Alldredge Penny Blake Nimue Brown Leslie Conzatti Guy Donovan Johan Klein Haneveld Jaq D Hawkins Marc vun Kannon Nav Logan Paul Michael Morgan Smith Benjamin Towe Expected Nils Visser Mary R. Woldering SEPTEMBER 2019 Thomas Woldering A.M. Young'

Do please have a seat, Nav, (Max, get off the chaise and let him sit down … hm? … no he can’t sit on your lap, just move aside.)

Would you like tea? Earl Grey? Lapsang? Assam? Darjeeling? Oolong? (Max don’t be rude)

I don’t drink tea.

What? I… I’m sorry I please forgive me I just slipped off my chair… I’m so sorry, I must have had sea water in my ears, I thought you said you don’t drink tea? No, I’m sure I must have misheard you, here have a nice soothing cup of Earl Grey with a dash of Absinthe.There you go. Now then , do tell us more about your contribution to this Dreamtime Damsels anthology we keep hearing about – the aether is alive with the gossip!

Gossip is the Devil’s telephone they say, but having spent my fair share of time kneeling in front of the loo, groaning “Oh God!” I guess it’s only fair to confirm that the compilation is near completion and almost ready for print, and yes, I did my small part in the whole thing by supporting the rights of women to wear chainmail bikinis, should they so wish, or not, as the case may be. We live in a diverse universe, and I say live and let live, or to paraphrase Rodney King, “Can’t we all just get along?”

Oh we octopuses always think everyone should get along and … (Hm? Oh don’t be ridiculous Max I do NOT own a chainmail bikini and I’m CERTAIN my tentacles would get pinched in the links.) Although I have to say, Nav, it does does sound exciting. What inspired you to write it?

Nils Visser gave me a challenge to write this particular story. I had contributed another one too, but only this one made it through the rigorous editing process… And then only after I bribed and coerced some of the judges… but we won’t go into that.

Ah yes, bribery, coercion, cake laced with epic doses of the Green Fairy… we are certainly on the same page. We believe that is the only reason Penny’s story was included too. More cake? I see you haven’t touched your tea… (Max be quiet, everyone loves tea)

Now then, what would you say most influences your writing in general?

Heavy doses of M&Ms and a heady cocktail of Chinese food and Red Bulls, although I’m currently in rehab and detoxing … I’m sixteen days clean now!

Ah yes, Max went cold turkey once from caffeine and sugar. It wasn’t pretty. You have our deepest sympathies. Cherry Bakewell? No? Oh yes, sorry, you’re detoxing… um… and are there any authors who have particularly inspired you? (No he doesn’t want to hear your poetry Max, stop interrupting)

Thomas Jefferson. Man, that dude could write. That whole Independence thing… wow… mind blowing!

Oh yes we are all about independence – we are heading the revolution from the skies in fact (it being far safer than leading a revolution from the ground, we have discovered) but back to writing, you know, writing is something I’ve always fancied turning my talents to – having so many tentacles I imagine I could be quite productive as an author. Tell me, what was your own road into fiction writing like?

Some would say poetry was my road to fiction… Others would refer to my previous illicit horticultural endeavours and the particular strain of plant I developed… That was some pretty mind-expanding stuff, right there. I put some in the tea to give it a kick. Hope you don’t mind.

I see, oh dear, is that why the room has turned purple and your head has exploded in a burst of golden stars? You must leave some behind with us when you go. And do you have any plans for new projects in the near future?

World domination, but I’ll start with becoming the King of Ramsbottom.

World domination… er…. you’re not a wizard are you? So, where can we get our tentacles on a copy of this delightful Dreamtime Damsels collection? I mean, I know it’s not OFFICIALLY on sale yet but we thought, you know, as we’ve been so kind and plied you with cake and suspicious hot beverages….

The Black Market… The Deep web… I’m not authorised to reveal that. It’s beyond your security clearance to even think about it, let alone utter such a request out loud.

Damn. Our hearts are broken! Oh well, it was worth a try I suppose. And what about your own work, where can we find more of that?

There are ears everywhere… Mum’s a word… <wink>

Oh! Oh I see… um…. Wooooah! Dear me I do apologise, the airship must have slipped… or perhaps that was the effect of this blasted tea… I am so very sorry I seem to have landed in your lap I hope I haven’t covered you in octopus slime?

I’m good thanks.

Are you sure you’re alright? Hm, what’s that? Time you were going? Are you sure I can’t tempt you with another cup of tea? Yo haven’t even touched your first!

I can’t feel my toes! Is that normal?

Would you like some help crawling to the door?

Oh dear, Max I do believe your awful poetry and ill-concealed amorous advances have scared off yet another of our guests. You really must learn to behave yourself ‘In Company.’ What do you mean it was my fault for pushing tea on him? Everybody loves tea!

Thankyou, long-suffering friends, for joining us this morning on board our beautiful new rainbow sailed ship The Harlequin Ladybird, you will find all the blog posts so far on the Dreamtime Damsels blog tour listed below and until we see you again, please remain always

Utterly Yourself

Mary Woldering hosts the first round of character interviews 

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Red, The Wolf

Mary Woldering hosts the second round of character interviews

Our own kitchen witch interviews Nav Logan


Dreamtime Damsels Blog Tour: Soup Of The Day: With Nav Logan

Hello! Mrs Albert Baker here, otherwise known as The Last Witch Of Pendle. Obviously there is no Pendle any more, since The Chronic Agronauts utterly destroyed it with treacle and sprats, but I’ve set myself up quite nicely here in Lancaster, running this little soup kitchen for the street urchins. There certainly are a lot of them and I’m always looking for helping hands to cook up and serve something delicious!

 

This morning I’m very excited to be taking part in the blog tour for the upcoming anthology ‘Dreamtime Damsels and Fatal Femmes’ and helping me this morning is one of the contributors to that anthology, Nav Logan. Thank you so much for coming to help me in my soup kitchen today, My Dear! May I take your hat and miscellaneous weaponry?

 Just my hat today, and my trusty pen. They say the pen is mightier than the sword, especially if you are up close. A Bic in the eyeball usually does the trick in close combat.

 Oh I most wholeheartedly concur! How was your trip from your own dimension? I hope you did not run into any hostile sugar-zombies or sky pirates on your way?

There were a lot of hostile Traffic Cones clustered menacingly on one section of the motorway, but I kept my throttle on max and didn’t look back.

 Marvellous, I do the same thing on my steam powered hover-broom. And have you brought along some soup to share with us? 

I’ve brought some of my speciality dish: Boxty, Random Road-kill Vittles, and freshly-plucked Stinging Nettle soup. (Always pick the top most leaves… they are the freshest, and the dogs can’t wee that high!)

 Mmm, it smells …. er…. most interesting…. and of course delicious! I’m sure the little urchins will enjoy it immensely. Now while that is simmering away nicely, why don’t I open a window and you have a seat by the fire here and tell me a little about the types of fiction that you prefer to write?

 My novels are all fantasy fiction, but when writing smaller works, I dip into a range of different fiction genres. It’s good for the brain to challenge yourself as a writer.

 Indeed! And I hear you’ve recently made a contribution to the Dreamtime Damsels anthology I’ve heard so much about – would you like to tell us all a little about that?

 My contribution to the Dreamtime Damsels compilation is Mulie the Bald. It’s about a young lass who refuses to be pegged, and pushes the boundaries of convention, refusing to accept her designated lot in life. She has her own plans, and may the Gods help anyone who gets in her way.

She sounds like just my sort of lass! And now I know that the release details are all very hush hush at the moment but could you perhaps give us a little teaser that we can get excited about? 

Image may contain: 1 person, text that says 'Dreamtime Fantasy Tales authors are proud to DREAMTIME present their anthology & FATAL FEMMES With stories by: Greg Alldredge Penny Blake Nimue Brown Leslie Conzatti Guy Donovan Johan Klein Haneveld Jaq D Hawkins Marc vun Kannon Nav Logan Paul Michael Morgan Smith Benjamin Towe Expected Nils Visser Mary R. Woldering SEPTEMBER 2019 Thomas Woldering A.M. Young'

 

 Wonderful, I will keep my eye out for its release and be posting links on here when it is available! As an adventuress myself, I certainly think it is wonderful to see a fantasy collection where women take the centre stage isn’t it?

 I totally agree, My own book of novels: The StormBringer Saga, centres around the life of one such young girl: Maerlin Stormbringer, and also has some other strong female characters too. Celtic Mythology depicts many such characters within the three figureheads of The Maiden, The Mother and The Crone. We have the likes of Queen Medb, a strong queen who demanded equality with her husband King Ailill as joint rulers of Connacht.

 

Oh your series sounds most intriguing I will have to have a look at those, I’m a great fan of Celtic Mythology myself and…. oh! now that’s the kettle boiling, what is your ‘poison’ Dear, and how do you take it?

 

I’ll take a Black coffee please, made from freshly ground mountain arabica beans, and seeped overnight in the tears of my defeated enemies, or a small dash of stevia… if you have it.

 

You are in luck! Being a witch, such things are merely a swirl of a magical spoon away – there you are. Now, why don’t you tell us all a little more about your own path into fiction writing?

 

I started writing as a child, mainly poems back then, but the odd short story. I got into writing novels quite by accident. Maerlin’s story started off as a poem, then grew into a short story which grew into a novel… and then a bunch of novels and is still unfinished as yet. Due to my health issues, the fourth book might never get finished, but was three quarters way through its first draught before I was diagnosed.

However, I never thought I’d finish book two, and I did in the end.

It sounds like you have a tenacious spirit, My Dear, and I very much hope you able to finish the fourth. Tell me, is there anything that particularly inspires you when you write?

 Dreams. My dreams force me to get up and write down an idea, a concept, or a few chapters of my next book.

Ah, how marvellous, dreams have a magic all of their own don’t they? Now then, of course we love supporting independent writers, artists and small presses here in Ire; do you have any favourite indie authours who have inspired you or whose work you can recommend?

Having Parkinson’s Disease makes reading challenging … and finding the energy to write or focus on editing also, but there are many great independent writers I’ve worked with over the years. The authors involved in Dreamtime Damsels and Dreamtime Dragons would include some of them, and there are some others that deserve a mention: David Wailing, my editor, is a great writer. His books are worthy of a mention. I’ve worked on a few things with Rick Haynes also, and always enjoy reading his stories.

 Splendid, I will be sure to hunt those out – I am always on the look out for a good fireside read to keep me company while I knit or bake. And where can we find more of your own work?

 The Stormbringer Saga and my books of short stories are all out of print officially now, although I’m sure there are copies available. I’ve had a number of stories published in compilations, plus worked on some stories with other writers which are also still in print, and which help out various charities with their sales.

That’s a shame about the Strombringer Saga but we’ll be sure to look out your short stories in other compilations. Ah now that soup smells like it is about ready, would you be so kind as to help me serve it up to the orphans?

 No problem… Having spent years living on the road myself, I’m always happy to pitch in and lend a helping hand when I can.

 Splendid, thankyou Nav it has a been a pleasure having you help in the kitchen today!

 Thank you all for joining us in the soup kitchen this morning.  You will find all the blog posts so far on the Dreamtime Damsels blog tour listed below

Myself, and Max and Collin, will be interviewing more contributors to the anthology throughout August and we hope you will join us for those posts and share them around!

So,  until we see you again, Blessings On Your Brew My Dears!

 

Mary Woldering hosts the first round of character interviews 

Leslie Conzatti presents an excerpt from one of the stories in the anthology: Red, The Wolf

Mary Woldering hosts the second round of character interviews


Rromani Steampunk: Sources Of Information for writers

Greetings! Today has happily brought yet another request for sources of information  / research for writing authentic Rromani characters particularly in the sci fi / fantasy genre – this is great! I’m so happy that people are starting to get on board with this issue!

So I thought it would be a good idea to create a stripped down post that’s easy to point people at and quick to get info from on this topic. Here, then, are some quick tips for writing authentic Rromani characters in your fiction…

  1. Read Rromani Autobiography and Fiction.

We have a mantra “Nothing about us without us” and it’s a healthy one to keep in mind. The best way to learn about Rromani  people is to read what our people have written about ourselves – not someone else’s interpretation of us, which (however well meant) is never going to be as authentic and accurate.

So, here’s a list of fabulous Rromani writers across many genres to get you started:

Maggie Smith-Bendell

Rajko Ðjurić

Jessica Reidy

Ian Hancock

Caren Gussof-Sumption

Glenda Bailley-Mershon

Rosie Mckinley

Mikey Walsh

Jess Smith

Violet Cannon

Nan Joyce and Anna Farmer

Diane Tong

Jasper Lee

Nina Dudarova

Olga Pankova

Bronislawa Wajs

Philomena Franz

Elena Lackova

Hedina Tahirović Sijerčić

Cecilia Woloch

Louise Daughty

Mariella Mehr

Luminiţa Mihai Cioabă

Oksana Marafioti

Paola Schopf

Margita Reiznerová

Sterna Weltz-Zigler

Diana NormaSzokolyai

Nadia Hava-Robbins

Tera Fabianova

Katarina Taikon Langhammer

Irena Eliášová

Writers who’ve done an especially cringey / bad / offensive job of writing Rromani characters include…

Phillip Pulman

Tim Powers

Emily Bronte

Stephen King

Robert Jordan

Jane Austin

It’s worth reading them to learn what not to do! lol.

 

2. Ask why you want your character to be Rromani – if it’s just for exotic flavour or as a plot device then forget it, sorry but no one wants to be a tool! If the character is an authentic character in their own right with a personality, back story, potential for growth, development and future who just happens to Rromani, that’s the sort of representation we’re looking for 🙂

3. Avoid ‘research’ or ‘biography’ written by non-Rroma. Even if they have traveled or lived with Rromani people. Ask ‘why would someone want to study another group of people and why would they particularly choose Rromani people?’ Often the reason is that they find Rromani people exotic and so have paid a clan to let them ‘see the magic from the inside.’ You are an intelligent person, you can see the problems inherent in a mutually-exploitative situation like that! Other times a person who has adopted a new-age traveling lifestyle and spent time with Rromani travelling folk … the problem with authenticity here is that the writer may see the picture without the background  – they tend to write about the current situation of the small, poverty stricken, desperate group of displaced Roma they encountered, without any understanding of how this situation came to be, how it affects the people they are writing about, how it compares to other groups of Roma around the world and, importantly, how compares to other groups of different cultures in the same conditions – because only then can we begin to separate socio-economic issues from cultural ones!

Some writers to avoid in this area include…

Isabel Fonseca

Dominic Reeve

Raymond Buckland

Charles Leland

 

So, there you go – hopefully those are all quick, useful points to take away 🙂 Got any questions or other topics you’d like me write about on this issue? Leave me a note in the comments or drop me an email 🙂

Big blessings, Penny


Aether Egg Hunt: With Ichabod Temperance

egg-1421882-639x852.jpg

 

An Egg of Temperance

“Yoo hoo, Mr. Temperance, are you about the gardens, eh hem?”
~boingy, boingy, boingy~
“Happy Easter Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am!”
“Eep! Great Leaping Lepus! What on Earth, Mr. Temperance?!?!”
“Don’t be skeert, Ma’am, I’m just dressed up for an Easter egg hunt. We got a special invitation from our pal Penny!”
“Mr. Temperance, One cannot be seen in public with you if you choose to wear that ridiculous garb.”
“But I thought some big floppy bunny ears and a fluffy tail would be festive.”
“Perhaps.”
“I got some for you, too! Take off your hat and put on some bunny ears. They’re fun!”
“I most certainly will not!”
“Will you at least stick a fluffy bunny tail on your bustle?”
~sigh~ “Very well, if it will make you happy.”
“Yay! Thanks!”
“One is compelled to correct you on a misunderstanding. Mrs. Blake has invited us on an ‘Aether’ egg hunt, not ‘Easter.’ The hunt in question is to find some clever positioning of specialized information that only One with ‘insider’ intelligence will glean, thus revealing a hidden message in an otherwise innocent scene, eh hem?”
“Uhhhbb…”
“Oh dear, well, perhaps I can demonstrate the meaning this way: Do you remember the episode in which our Earth was invaded by Martians, bent on colonizing our fair home?”
“Yes, Ma’am! That adventure came to be known as ‘For the Love of Temperance’”
“Quite so. In it, you and a compatriot commandeer a Martian War Machine. Once within, it is realized that there are no windows. An artificial portal is duly discovered. Readers that are of an age to remember tubed, black and white televisions might recall a similar warm up period before the grainy, pixelated image, scrolling endlessly up the screen becomes fixed.”
“Oh, okay, I getcha. Sort of like that time you got kidnapped by a band of Native American, Pirate Ninja, Middle Eastern, Samurai and I had to make chase in a borrowed Handsome cab.”
“Hansom.”
“Thank you. Anyway, that stand behind buggy had a mechanical horsie. Readers that are familiar with mid-twentieth century American muscle cars might recognize what they would know as a ‘Four on the Floor’ manual transmission.”
“Just so, Mr. Temperance, however, were we to share an instance with our good friend Mrs. Blake and her wonderful following, then I should choose a selection from the novel, ‘A Journey of Temperance’”
“Oh my Goodness! That there adventure is a Fantasy Saga of Epic Proportions!”
“Yes, rather. In it, there is a chapter in which our intrepid band is assailed by monsters and devices during a perilous trek that reads not unlike a vibrant game of ‘Dungeons and Dragons’. It is the final scene of this outrageous section that shall be our parting, ‘Aether Egg’ excerpt to share.”
“Okey dokey Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am. Happy Reading and Happy Easter, everybody!”

 

Excerpt:

“Mr. Temperance, I see a structure up ahead stretching out across this interminable gulf. It is an arched bridge, my friends. This must be the way out of this calamitous cavern.”
“Harumph. That long, slender bridge doesn’t look safe to me. Send the Temperance boy across first, to make sure it’s safe.”

“I say, there is no time for that, Mr. Morganstern. Let us all fly across this stony segue to sanctuary, eh hem?”

“Golly, we are all running and running, but it is still a long way across. Hunh? Do y’all notice an updraft? Do y’all detect an unidentifiable smell that is accompanying it? If I didn’t know better, I’d say that something inconceivably large were coming up out of this bottomless crevasse that we are desperately running across, what do you think? I’m gonna take me a quick peek over the edge, just to satisfy my curiosity. Well, what do you know, I was right! Way down deep, I can just barely make out a faint, pale glow in the distant depths. Hunh, I think it is getting brighter and bigger. No, it just appears
that way because it is getting closer. Oh my Goodness, maybe we should keep running, y’all.”

“Verily, we are caught out. Running will avail us not. The Great White Wyrm of Impossible Revulsion has us and there is no escape.”

“I’ll give it a lick with my magic pick!”

“This would be a noble last gesture, halflet, but this fabled monster is of an enormity that will engulf this entire cavern. Your best attack would be negligible at best.”

“Gee whiz, Mr. Legolamb is right! This big old worm is gonna gobble us up all gone! I sure am sorry that I allowed you to become grub for a giant grub, Ma’am.”

“Come now, Legolamb my dear, is there no spell you can cast that will stay this beast?”

“No Persephone, there is nothing I can do to stop it.”

“Dang, y’all, he is here! We are about to get gobbled up!”

“Could you stop time, perhaps, eh hem?”

“No, I’m afraid not. Wait, I may have an alternative! Great stores of raw magic, as is loose in these mines, will sometimes develop an id, if you will. I have a spell that will force the collective consciousness of these mad mines to manifest itself!”

Mines of Madness and Deceit.
Lord of Labyrinth Despair.
These adventurers demand a receipt.
For tolls taken in your lair.
Traps and armies and devilish schemes,
we have answered all.
We have a token we would redeem,
You cannot refuse our call.
By Elven right and Elven might,
manifest for me, spell caster.
Your game is paused, in position tight,
we would parley with Dunjeon Maester!

“Burbity. The stalagmites have ceased to fall.”
“Stalactites, sir.”
“Blast it, Temperance, I’ll call them anything I want!”
“I say, how extraordinary! Our surroundings hang in suspension. Oh, dear, so do we, apparently. We enjoy very little range of motion, eh hem?”
“Ach, the freakish white glow of the colossal wurm sends strange beams of light up from below, illuminating us all in staerk contrasts.”

“Verily, the spell is working! Behold, a swirl of light inside our five person party reveals our other worldly host.”
“My word, a humanoid head is manifesting in strange turquoise hues. I say, are you our host and Dunjeon Maester perhaps, eh hem?”

“Silence! This is not thy turn to speak. Who would be so insolent as to dare this maneuver? Who hast the gall to summon me?”
“I do, Dunjeon Maester! I, Legolamb of Upper Austeria. Legolamb of the Elven High Council. Legolamb of the High Arts!”
“Ha, ha, ha, foolish elf! This mighty wurm is moments from snatching you into its bottomless gullet! You are caught out and you have failed in your quest to pass through my domain!”
“Verily, I challenge thee by the Rites of Probability!”
“Dost thou carry the Artifacts of Probability, elf?”
“I do. Behold, Dunjeon Maester, they are here!”
“By my Omnipotent Mind, I didn’t see those coming! I haven’t seen a set of those in Ages! Where did you get them?”
“In my time, they were quite common. Any Enthusiasts’ Emporium was likely to have them. These, though, may be the last in existence.”
“I will use thine occult artifacts to cast your fate.”
“I say, small objects of varying polyhedral design float from Legolamb’s hand. Apparently, they are in control by our host’s telekinesis. The multi-sided pieces spin in a furious whirlwind before being hurled to the bridge’s deck. Our disincorporated Dunjeon Maester’s head does a quick calculation in his blue-green mind.”
“Inconceivable! I have never heard of such luck. You will be allowed to cast for your fate.”
“Verily, this is not fair, Dunjeon Maester! We have successfully passed the Rite of Probability! You must let us pass!”
“Quiet, elf! I am the Dunjeon Maester and I make the rules. It is my decision that you must all cast for your passage! First, you, wizard. My reading of you suggests a robust constitution, but low charisma. You possess moderate strength and wisdom but an extraordinarily high intelligence quotient. You will throw three, ten-sided Artifacts. Thou requires a sum of fifteen or greater to survive this confrontation.”
“Verily, my sweet Artifacts, Big Daddy Wizard needs a shiny new staff. Come on, Artifacts, don’t let me down. Go do thy magics, now! Yeah baby, yeah! Verily, seven, four and eight! I succeedest!”
“Next, the dwarf will cast. Strongenfight, I read that thou art of hearty constitution and amazing strength. Moderate wisdom, intelligence and charisma follow. Thou shalt have two, twenty sided dice to cast.”
“What! That’s absurd, that dwarf having more die points to cast than I!”
“Silence, elf, it’s not thy turn! Strongenfight, thou must cast a sum of twenty five or greater.”
“Ye don’t mind if I spit on them for luck, do you?”
“Verily, yes, I do!”
“Too bad, elfie me lad. ~huh-whock a patooey!~ Now then, pull me beard out of the fire, lassies, poppa dwarf needs to buy some baby boots. Aye! A fifteen and a seventeen! I’ve doone it!”
“Next, I choose the strange little creature in the odd black hat. I do not recognize thee as a creature of Middle o’ Earthhe. Tell me, what art thou?”
“Verily, it’s a halflet.”
“Ach, nae, it, I mean, he’s a dwarf! You are a dwarf, are you not, Ichs of the Bod?”
“Eep! Um, yessir, I reckon I’m a dwarf, all right.”
“Thou art a pathetic excuse for a dwarf, Ichs of the Bod. I read thee as possessing low levels in all the major characteristics, with the exception of unusual dexterity. Tell, me, pseudo-dwarf, how didst thou survive this long?”
“I have lots of enthusiasm, sir!”
“You are entitled a cast of two, four-sided Artifacts. Thee must achieve a sum of eight or greater.”
“How do I get greater than eight with two four-sided Artifacts?”
“Thou canst. I merely said that to amuse myself.”

“Oh, okay, well, I’m gonna let Miss Plumtartt blow on them for luck. Thanks, Ma’am. Now come on, Artifacts, don’t fail me now, Icky needs a new pair of gaiters! I done it! Double quads, Mr. Dunjeon Maester, how do you like them apples?”
“Silence, fool, thy turn has passed. Female, you are next. What is your name?”
“I say, I am delighted to introduce myself. My name is Plumtartt, Persephone Plumtartt.”
“Plumtartt, Persephone Plumtartt, thou art a beautiful creature, yet thou art not an elf. Of what race are you?”
“I say, I am proud to say that I am of the human race, good sir.”
“And a better example of humanity one could not hope to meet. Incredible, your aura radiates with the astounding levels of your delightful characteristics. In every category, you are as a beacon of perfection, my dear. You will be asked to cast four, eight-sided Artifacts for a sum of twelve or greater to survive.”
“Normally, I do not approve of gambling, outside of church charitable events, though I suppose one must if our entire party is risking larval digestion in the balance. Yes, hear, hear, come along, Artifacts, mumsy wishes to avoid aforementioned appetizer status. Hoiy-yaw! Brava! I have achieved the requisite amount! Jolly good, hear, hear, I say!”
“You are a human also, J. P. Morganstern. Your aura is unlike that of the Plumtartt girl. Yours is a dun-coloured morass. Your major characteristics are abysmal. You will cast a single, six-sided Artifact. Thou needs a sum of four or better.”
“Harumph. I am well versed in removing monies from my companions by way of gambling sport. Whether by cards, dice, or betting on racing and boxing, I have amassed massive fortunes in just this sort of play. Give me that blasted Artifact. Come on, sweet dollar signs, daddy wants to return to my riches! Burbity! A snake eye! That won’t do. I demand to throw again!”
“The Artifact cast has failed! You shall all perish! I suspend, this suspended animation! You are returned to your gruesome deaths, still in progress!”