Final Edits Are Done…Redemption of Erâth Is Go!

Apologies – I’ve been busy. I’ve gone through the entire book, chopped 6,000 words (painfully), tidied and grammar/spell checked, smartened straight quotes and converted triple-periods into ellipses, and I think…I think…we’re almost ready!

So The Redemption of Erâth: Consolation now stands at 25 chapters, 104,560 words (±500), 31 major characters and a whole lot of sweat, blood and tears. It’s scary – this is my baby, my precious, and like all first-time authors (I’m sure), it’s both exhilarating and terrifying to contemplate sending it out into the wide world and waiting for the inevitable acceptance – or rejection.

If all goes well, I’ll be able to sell enough copies to cover the publishing costs; any extra will be bonus! If I can show there’s demand for it, I might even be able to approach a traditional publishing agent and see if I can convince them to run with it. Wouldn’t it be awesome to see The Redemption of Erâth: Consolation on some sci-fi and fantasy bestsellers list?

Wow, this is getting to my head. As if that’ll ever happen.

Anyway, I apologize for being away for so long, and I apologize for the completely incoherent ramble here – I just thought I’d let you all know where things stand. Hopefully this also means I’ll be able to return my attention to book 2 (Exile), and we’ll be seeing what events are to befall Brandyé as he ventures into the northern lands of Thaeìn and Erâth. I can tell you this: it’s going to be exciting, and dark.

I’m so excited!

The Devil’s Details: Don’t Insult Me Through Spam Comments!

No-Spam-CanI don’t usually check the Spam section of the comments here, because the filter is generally pretty accurate. However, every once in a while the number builds up, and I go and check it out for a laugh. The thing that really amuses me is the atrocious English and the utterly generic content that is intended to be applicable to any post of any kind – except they’re not. Time after time I’m praised for the “information” on my site; I rarely post information of any kind.

“This is the right blog for anyone who wants to learn about this topic. You realize so much its pretty much difficult to argue with you (not that I truly would want?-HaHa). You absolutely put a new spin on a topic thats been written about for years. Fantastic stuff, just great!”

Some of it, on the other hand, is nearly unintelligible:

“Continue to maintain up the pretty very good operate. I just extra up your RSS feed to my MSN News Reader.”

Or:

“However never the actual significantly less it turned out stimulating.”

The point is, they’re always praising me, sucking up and hoping I’ll click the link to their website. Sometimes I do for fun, so I suppose their goal was achieved.

But then the other day, I got this one:

“The next time I read a weblog, I hope that it doesnt disappoint me as a lot as this 1. I mean, I know it was my selection to read, but I basically thought youd have something intriguing to say. All I hear is often a bunch of whining about some thing that you simply could fix if you happen to werent too busy seeking for attention.”

I mean hey, come on – if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all! Apparently I could fix all my problems if I didn’t spend all my time seeking attention.

Hm. I think the whole point of my blog is to get people to read it, so yes – I do want attention. But next time, don’t insult me!

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The Redemption of Erâth: Book 2, Chapter 9

Chapter 9: A Journey Begins

Come the morning, Brandyé was anxious to return to Ermèn, for Sonora had returned empty-clawed. After a small breakfast he set out through the woods, and Elven accompanied him.

“I very much want to meet a man who lives under a tree,” said Elven.

“He will likely tell you that you will die of ill fortune, or that you will make one from the mushrooms that grow in his den,” replied Brandyé, and the two laughed – it was a merry sound, ringing out among the needles and leaves, and it seemed to somehow brighten the morning.

It happened that it was not as far from the Dotterys home to Ermèn’s as it had seemed the night before, for they had arrived within half an hour. It is also possible that neither of them made much of the time, for they spent the walk deep in conversation, each feeling that there was much time to make up for.

Ermèn was not in when they arrived, and so they sat upon a log and continued to talk. They talked of adventures, of the past, of the present and of the future, and before he knew it Brandyé had hope in his heart, for against all odds he had been reunited with loved ones, and deep in the back of his mind he wondered if Elỳn’s prophecy might be true.

There was one subject they did not speak of, of course, and Brandyé was relieved at this. So many times had he revisited Sonora’s death alone that he had no wish to revisit it in Elven’s company.

So it was that they were in a most pleasant mood when from the woods came, “Ah! You have a friend!”

Both looked up to find Ermèn leaning upon his staff, a peculiar grin upon his face, and a peculiar thing in his pocket. “Who is this?” he asked.

“My name is Elven,” he said, “and I am glad to meet you.”

“I am glad to meet you too,” said Ermèn. “I trust your family is well?”

Elven started at this, and said, “How do you know of my family?”

“How indeed?” said Ermèn, and Brandyé knew they would get no answer from him on the matter.

From his pocket Ermèn drew forth a small furred animal, and Brandyé saw with curiosity that it was a kind of small rodent, similar to a mouse. “I have brought a present,” Ermèn said, and Brandyé thought it was a most peculiar present until with a flutter Sonora the falcon descended upon them, and settled on the ground only a few paces from them. Ermèn lightly tossed the vole to her, and with a squeal and a squawk the bird dove into her breakfast.

Elven was shocked and Brandyé appalled, but Ermèn only said, “A falcon needs her food, as do we. Shall we have tea?” He then pushed upon the hidden door in the tree, and stepped downward and into his home.

“What strange person is this?” Elven whispered. “He knows of things he cannot know of!”

But Brandyé merely shrugged and said, “That is his manner, and nothing will change it. I doubt very much you will get a straight answer from him today, yet somehow you will learn something also.”

They then followed Ermèn into the tree, and at the foot of the stairs Ermèn’s home was as well-lit, warm and comfortable as always, and it was a welcome relief from the chill morning air. Ermèn already had a pot boiling over the stove and mugs on the table, and so Brandyé and Elven sat. A fresh loaf sat on a board and Brandyé offered his friend a slice, though he did not tell him what it was made of. “What an odd taste,” said Elven. “But pleasant. What is it?”

“One of Ermèn’s peculiarities,” Brandyé said, and made no further discussion of it.

“Have you and your kin been here long in the forest?” asked Ermèn.

“Since last winter,” replied Elven. “We thought ourselves alone – we did not even see a footprint from you. Brandyé tells me you have lived here long, though – why did you not approach us?”

Ermèn raised his eyebrows. “Did you need me to?”

Elven of course frowned at the question, but said, “I suppose not. Still – it seems rude.”

“Oh!” said Ermèn, and Brandyé smiled for it was a departure from his usual “Ah!”. “I did not mean to be rude. But – how could you think it rude if you did not know I was here?” […]

Read the complete chapter here.

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