From Our Troth:

The mightiest night of Yule is the solstice itself, the longest night of the year when all the wights who wander in darkness are freest and the human hold on this earth is weakest. The word “Yule” itself is ur-old, its meaning clouded; it could have sprung from roots meaning “wheel”; “time of joy”; “year-turning”, “time of sacrifice”, or perhaps “blind (dark) time” (de Vries, Wörterbuch, p. 292; Ásgeirr Blondal Magnússon, Órðsifjabók, p. 433). This is the night on which the Yule-log should be burned and the watch kept; this is the night on which the holiest oaths are sworn. It is not good to be alone on this night, for then the only folk about one are trolls and the dead – chancy companions at best!

Traditionally, this is also the night of feasting. Unfortunately the Christianization of Yule has the celebration set for the 25th instead of Solstice. Since our friends can’t properly revel on a Tyr’s Day, we settled for an impromptu party. Had a good number of folks wander through, and everyone left with a gift or a stiff drink to ward against the cold weather. It was during this time that sunset occurred. We lit the Yule Candle and began our vigil.

We continued the party alone, taking this time to exchange gifts. White Russians, Southern Comfort, ahi burritos, and nacho grandes were our feast. (The Yule spirits ended up with the monster portion of the nachos.)

As for gifting . . . I got the full season of Firefly on DVD! Woot!! I gave my wife a ton of books (and vice versa,) and we both ended up with iPods.

Since I’m the night owl, I stayed up through the night on vigil. The candle’s light was steady and strong. I listened to tunes on my iPod and reread the first Harry Potter book. At four am, I woke the wife to continue on while I took a nap. (Dr’s appt this morning, urgh.) She rousted me just before sunrise and together we put out the flame, welcoming the sun’s return for another year.

The next big push is the generally accepted feast day on the 25th. We’ve got RSVPs from lots of friends in the area who’ll drop in, share food and drink, and celebrate the coming new year. I’m looking forward to it!

. . . was on Monday. It’s the first of the thirteen nights of Yule, which is what my family celebrates. To quote Our Troth, a tome of articles written by Asatruar,

Of all the high feasts of our forebears, Yule is by far the highest, the holiest, and the most fraught with might. During the thirteen nights of Yule, all the worlds meet in the Middle-Garth: the god/esses and the dead walk freely, trolls and alfs come into the homes of humans, and those folk who are closest to the Otherworld may leave their human selves altogether to become the riders of the Wild Hunt or oskorei (Ásgarð-Ride), werewolves, or the embodiments of various of the wights that wander the earth at Yule-tide. But Yule is also the time of the greatest feasting and joy, because it is at Yule that the whole clan, living and dead, gathers as one, sure in the knowledge that even as the Sun rises every year from her greatest darkness, so there will ever be rebirth for us as well. It is not by chance that Yule has preserved the most Heathen customs of any feast: the promise of the Yule log and the ever-green tree also stood as the promise that our folk-ways should live through the long dark winter and rise bright again.

Mother’s Night focuses on home and hearth, a time to spend with not only your family but the spirits of your ancestors and the wights who abide in the home and care for the people there. (My wife refuses to call the wights or idises anything but ‘critters.’ LOL!)

Aside from errands earlier in the day, we puttered about the apartment. Did some cleaning, whipped up a wonderful dinner, and ate by candle light. We usually don’t have ‘sit down’ meals at our house, so it was very special. We talked about absent family, alive and not, and dished two small plates as offerings to our critters and ancestors.

Afterward, we roamed the building we call home to look at door decorations. Our management company holds a contest every year. First prize is $300 off next month’s rent. Some of the apartments go all out. Last year, there was Christmas at Bag End, the entire door (and surrounding walls) decorated to look like a hobbit dwelling. This year, the same folks turned out a castle theme, complete with a drawbridge over a small moat, two turrets, and a sword sticking out of a stone. (Immediately across from them, and just as expansive, is the Nightmare Before Christmas.)

The wife and I brainstormed a theme. It’s top secret, though. With proper forethought and planning, we might catch ourselves a rent break in 2006!

We then returned home to spend time together until bed. It was a nice, mellow night. Holiday or not, we’re thinking aboout repeating it soon.

Recently returned from the orthopedic surgeon. Everything looks spectacular, healing well! Woot!

I go back in ten days to remove the surgical bandaging and receive a real cast. He says the pins will be removed in about six weeks. From now. Not from the surgery or the initial break.

sigh

So maybe at the beginning of February I’ll have my hand back.

Nonexistant, as a matter of fact. First off, work’s been a bear. Lots of holiday parties and late night shifts.

However, something else has thrown a monkey wrench into things . . .

I broke my thumb last Wednesday.

sigh

I’m typing one-handed as we speak (as you read?) I have a splint from the tip of my thumb to my elbow. I go to an orthopedic surgeon tomorrow to see about a cast.

Needless to say, the writing (which in all honesty, has sucked this year) is on hold. I’ll probably be winged for a month. Hopefully no longer. In the meantime, I guess I’ll go over the Sanguire series in preparation for the full edit.

I know how Azrael feels regarding the ‘incident’ with the farm boy. I know how Ursula feels about it, as well. I’ve been at a loss, however, about how Azrael would physically respond to Ursula when next they’re together.

Hence, I’ve avoided writing for about a week.

The scene is from Ursula’s POV as she wakes the following morning. She discovers that Azrael has come to bed in the wee hours, and there she is upon waking. Had this scene been from Azrael’s POV, I don’t think there would have been as much of an issue. I could wax eloquent on her inner voice with little consequence. But she’s quite taciturn when she’s upset. How would that look to another?

I think I’ve finally broken through this. Now to semi-resolve the issue so I can move on to the next scene . . .

Been awhile since I posted, either here or at my LiveJournal. It’s been quite busy at work, which has the unfortunate consequence of exhausting me. Ah, well. It’ll slow down immensely after Yuletide . . . money will be pretty scarce then. I’m counting my blessings.

On Forward Motion, there’s a discussion regarding small press. Someone asked the following:

How about the rest of you? Do you have any favorite small press companies where you either go to find books or where you are either published or would like to be published?

My response is:

I’m a small press kinda gal, partially because of the genre I write – lesbian romance. (Not a lot of major publishing houses are willing to focus on that.) As Wen Spencer stated, it does have the benefit of lots of warm fuzzies and a sense of fun and friendship that can’t be had at the bigger presses.


Regardless, I don’t plan on remaining a small press author. (Which is not to say I won’t continue writing lesbian romance! That’ll never change!) Someday I’d like to break into the major markets, to be able to see my books on the shelf at Powell’s and Borders, to reach a larger audience.


I figure if I get a decent contract with a large company, I’ll still pen lesbian romances on the side as a hobby. It’s not much money, but if I were in it to get rich, I’d be writing thrillers and watching the market reports a whole lot more.


As for favorites, my publishing company used to be. Unfortunately, Fortitude Press has closed its doors, and my books are no longer available. I’ve been looking at the available small presses and haven’t come to a decision of where to go. That’s the downside of the warm fuzzies. I feel like I’ve lost a friend. Seems rather callus to rush out and find a replacement, and comparisons with other companies only serve to highlight what I perceive they do differently than Fortitude did.


sigh


I’m sitting it out through the holidays. At the beginning of the year, I’ll give it another scrutiny.

Weird dream, didn’t get to the finish line, so I don’t know how it ends.

There’s a compound in a large forest, modern day age. It’s a school for magic (ala Hogwarts, though much smaller.) Magic keeps it from being seen. But there are chain link fences surrounding the school to ‘keep undesirables out.’

Our hero discovers some fishy things going on with the instructors. (Not too sure exactly what they’re doing, but it’s definitely NOT in the best interest of the kids.) He convinces a handful of his friends to attempt escape. The heat is on, the teachers are onto the revolutionary cell, but this small group does get over the fence.

They set up house in the forest, this group of friends. From their treehouse vantage, they keep an eye on the comings and goings at the school. Our hero begins missions, infiltrating the school and bringing the truth to the students there.

Unfortunately, his work is noticed. On one visit, the instructors trap him and raise the fence level so he cannot go over it again. (Not too odd a point, but the ‘workers’ doing the construction are ogres.)

He’s under house arrest. His friends are on the other side of the fence, wallowing about in their inability to ban together without him. Either he’ll be killed or experimented on to get him to turn to the dark side of the Force. What will happen to our intrepid hero now?

I have no idea. Dammit. I woke up.

In any case, this reads like a Harry Potter / The Faculty / political thriller. Don’t know that it’ll ever get written, but I figured I’d better get it down somewhere for later perusal.

Polished off another 1100 words today. The new chapter thirteen is complete.

In this one, Ursula spends the afternoon alternating between being in fear of her life and worried for her mistress. Though the army left the farmstead with no bloodshed, she knows it was a mighty close thing. Night falls and the army is finally called to a halt, hasty arrangements are made for sleeping, but Azrael does not come to her body slaves. That furthers Ursula’s angst.

In the second half, Azrael approaches in the wee hours of the morn. She’s still wracking her brain in an effort to understand where the sudden urge to mutilate the innocent farm boy came from. She knows that Midia holds strong influence over her by the sheer number of years they’ve been together. But what is it about Ursula? She’s only been there about three weeks and she already holds quite a bit of sway. More angst for our stoic and aloof leader.

I should write a book. Character Torturing for Fun and Profit!

1400 words of Ursula’s response toward Azrael’s fury. Last chapter, a farm boy flirted with Ursula and Azrael did not take it well. Fortunately, she has a great amount of emotional control or there’d be one dead man to add to her long list of atrocities. Ursula now has to worry about what that means for her and the other slaves. Midia may get some of the spill over should Azrael be unable to keep her head.

And what will happen to Ursula? She accepted the flirting. She’s still new enough in her position that a capricious owner wouldn’t lose anything by tossing her to the wolves (or in this case, the army.) Or will she be whipped? Physically beaten? To top off these concerns, she knows that the worst would be to have Azrael set her aside, put her in the realm of all the ‘others’, those not welcome in Azrael’s circle of influence. As Midia has said, either you’re with Azrael or you’re not – you are nothing, not even worth the time to acknowledge.

Ursula is coming to believe she’d rather be tortured to death for her complicity than to see utter apathy in Azrael’s eyes.

In other news, graveyard tonight, which is why I got the writing done. Took me about 3.5 hours to get this far. I’ve shown some major restraint! The wife put on Shrek 2 and I didn’t even pause! HAH!

I have the next two nights off. I’ve got to do a follow up scene for this chapter from Azrael’s POV. Then I go to the next trumped up scene to see what further kind of trouble I can brew for these two.

2322 words! First time I’ve written this much in forever, man! The new chapter twelve of On Azrael’s Wings is complete!

Someone asked for help on one of the boards, citing difficulty with writing love scenes. This is my response:

I write erotica as well as romantic love scenes. The first time I wrote a scene like this, it took me four days. FOUR DAYS. And it was only four pages long! LOL!


These days, I can whip out a love scene of ten pages in two days.


A lot of the discomfort is, of course, your upbringing. Nice people don’t write this stuff! You know about the porn industry and probably have a good imagination about what really goes on in those adult bookstores. Your readers aren’t like that! YOU aren’t like that.


But to be honest, once you write a few of these scenes, they do get easier. You no longer sit at your computer with one eye cast over your shoulder to make certain your spouse/romantic interest/parent/child/little sibling waltzes in and catches you with your MC’s pants around his ankles.


As suggested above, do go about it like it’s a battle scene. The complications for both are the same – you have to choreograph each slight detail of the action or you lose the reader. (And the writer? LOL!) I’ve always thought that the only way to write this type of scene is to micromanage it.


And language is an issue, too. Use the words the characters would use. If the POV is a sweet young thing, she’ll shy away from certain terms, and you not using them will strengthen her POV. If it’s a person who’s had a lot of experience, then stronger words would be used.


And DO steer away from ‘love tunnels,’ ‘throbbing manhood’ and the like! Otherwise you’ll end up sounding like a Penthouse letter entry! (Or one of those novels at the adult bookstore!)

Good luck and take heart. It will get easier!

Forced distance from the internet, I believe.

I’m changing ISPs which also means I’m switching companies for my DSL phone line. I think I’ve got the new phone connection, but I still don’t have the new modem. Since the ISP I currently have has made it difficult in the extreme to configure the modem I have, I’ll be on dial up until I get a delivery from the US Snail.

Wish me luck.

It is my unfortunate duty to announce that Fortitude Press has closed. I’ve been told that pending orders will be taken care of, but there will be no more new sales.

All of my titles are now officially out of print.

At this time, I don’t know whether or not I’ll be able to afford picking up the remainders of my titles. Chances are good that I won’t. Them’s the breaks. As things occur, I’ll post here to keep you notified.

Regardless of there being no takers. I’ve brainstormed eleven new scenes to take place immediately after chapter eleven. I’m betting on a minimum of three new chapters, maybe four if I can stretch it long enough. That’ll give our heroines a bit more emotional angst as they fall for each other.

I got a hellacious compliment from an Indian about Tiopa Ki Lakota. My command of the Lakota language was decent enough for the person to email me and remark upon it. High praise indeed!

Chapter eleven is finished. Yay, team!

Looking over my notes for chapter twelve shows some major additions. The only way to portray the pair of them falling in love is to stretch out the travel between Provey and Azrael’s villa in Wrendon. They have to be firmly entrenched in love by that point.

So let me open this to everybody who’s reading this and is familiar with the original story. Contact me with suggestions of what scenes you’d like to see as they make their way home.

I’m not looking for erotica or anything. I need everyday scenes of life on the road with an army. Give me something you’d like to see, two characters you’d like to see interact, a question you have about one of the characters that I can try to explain.

(A friend of mine, J, will remember helping me with Castle Walls when my editor said it was lacking. I ended up with fourteen new scenes, four chapters of new material. She got a free book out of it . . . and her name in the acknowledgments . . .)

Whaddya say?