Tag Archives: Books

The Redemption of Erâth: Stalling

As I sit here in my basement, cold and hungry, four empty mugs sitting on the desk beside me, it occurs to me that I’m doing just about everything I can to not write any more of The Redemption of Erâth: Ancients and Death. I tinkered with this website all morning (do you like it?), updated my status on Facebook and Twitter a bit, watched some of Alexandra Corinth’s book videos (well-worth the watch, by the way), and twiddled my thumbs.

It seems I’m stalling.

I feel depressed about the whole thing (outside of my usual depression). I don’t like where I’m going with the book, which is unfortunate because it all started so promising. Elven was on his own, there were some very disturbing deaths, and he came to a new kingdom and became a part of the country there. I enjoyed the writing, and enjoyed the story. Elỳn’s magic came to the front, and was spectacular.

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Thought of the Week: Fame and Humanity

A thing happened last week that did something for me I’ve not been able to achieve myself for a lifetime. It rekindled my faith in my own abilities, in a way; it made me rethink what it means to achieve success, and how one goes about it. It made me think twice about myself and my craft.

I was spoken to by a famous person.

In case you forgot (or didn’t read—shame on you!), last week I posted a review of the book Her: A Memoir by Christa Parravani. In it, I described how I was heartbroken and torn by her story, and that I was likely to worry about her and her family for some time. I wrote these words for you, my readers, and like I often do, I shared my heart.

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The Redemption of Erâth: Book 3, Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Council of Erâth

It was several days before such a meeting could be arranged, and he spent his time wandering the wondrous streets of Viura Râ, or deep in conversation with Ermèn. He learned much of the world of Erâth, and of the great city in particular. Viura Râ, it seemed, was a great hub of the world, a place where all the races of Erâth could meet and speak, without fear or violence.

Yet for all of that, there were folk missing, he now knew. Men were by far the most populous here in Viura Râ, but among them were to be found many tall, thin pale figures: the Illuèn. Every so often Brandyé caught glimpses of black-robed folk, and knew them as the Namirèn. Yet the Mirèn, whose likeness Brandyé knew only from the great statue at the center of the city, were nowhere to be found, and daily Brandyé was reminded that it was the doing of men—his own kind.

He was glad to know that the Duithèn had been banished from Viura Râ, for it lightened his time there. Often he would walk in the shadows of the great buildings, but never did he feel despair, and he found he could ascend to the heights of the spires whenever he desired it. There was much to be seen from those great heights, and he spent hours watching the port, or the folk far below.

As Brandyé waited to meet with the council that Ermèn and Athalya were arranging, he found himself often wondering at the rest of the world, and how it compared to Viura Râ. Even here he could not escape the rumors of unrest and war, and one day he asked Athalya her thoughts on the matter.

“War is always on the horizon,” she said. “It is the doing of men, working under the influence of the Duithèn.”

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