Well, I don’t have much to blog about this week. We’re at the very end of Godblood, although we haven’t written much lately. I think that we can be done with the first draft of Godblood by the end of Summer, and we can release it as a eBook by the end of January next year. It won’t be available until a long time after that, though, because I’m using a website called smashwords.com. This website lets me release it onto the iPad, iPhone, Kindle, Nook, Blackberry, and almost every other eReading device, but before it releases my book, it checks the spelling, formatting, and grammar. Because of this, it will take a long time for this website to read my book, and it will be released later. If you want to read it right when it’s released, go to Smashwords and download it there. I don’t really have much else to say, so I’ll (hopefully) post in two weeks. I’m going away next week, and I won’t have an internet connection, so I’ll post again the week after.
-Andrew
Friday, July 22, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Chapter 1
I thought I’d share chapter one with you. I know I said I’d do this weekly, but I just started blogging, so I might as well write some more. The prologue's here: [LINK]. Here’s Chapter one:
“Ellise! Clean out the pigpen!” my mother called, without the slightest hint of gratitude for my willingness to act like a slave for her own nefarious-seeming purposes. She always had me doing something for her pigs.
“I’m on it!” I yelled back to my mother. I mumbled to myself about how my mother was always obsessed with the cleanliness and well-being of her precious porcine pets. I was almost beginning to think that my mother liked her pigs more than she liked me.
Before I set upon my task, I looked into my bedside mirror, admiring my some-what good looks that barely resembled my mother’s (mule-like) face. I had a thin face and body, probably due to small food rations, and straight, brown hair that ran down to my shoulders. I looked quite mature for a sixteen-winter old girl. For some strange reason, now and then I saw my blue eyes flicker to a neon purple shade, perhaps a side effect of working in the sun all day. I didn’t think about it much.
I always believed in the Gods, and felt as if my life had some greater purpose, waiting for me to become something great. My chance was waiting for me just as my pigpen duties were. But all this labor and boredom was a buildup. I believed that with all my heart.
I’m curious and mischievous, not the smartest girl, but not stuck up like the other girls in my kingdom, blinded with lust and men. But for me, I had never had a relationship. In fact, I only ever got of this wretched hut for trips to the marketplace.
Despite the endless rain of insults spewing from my mother, I think I’m a pretty nice young lady. But in this kingdom, you won’t go anywhere by being “kind” or “down-to-earth.” The only women with a reasonable income were the maidens and princesses, two things that I despise.
Again I distracted myself from the task at hand by gazing into the foggy hillside that lay in front of me. I was always stunned by those distant structures crafted by men before my time, with no detail missed, no effort spared. I figured magic was used, although my mother always taught that magic was a myth. But I knew better.
The fortress of the spirit sages loomed in the background along with the other imaginative buildings. It was the home of the greatest wizards in the world who had been around longer than anyone can remember. They were sworn to protect ancient wizard scrolls and artifacts and spells known only by the oldest members. I hoped to someday join them. But now, as much as I wished to be casting spells with the Great Spirit sages, I should be cleaning the pigpen.
I was currently training myself in magic, and I had snuck a spellbook from the house of an amateur sorcerer. I knew that, since I had no trainer, I had to take small steps. I smiled deviously, and decided to spare myself the torturous grease and grime of washing, feeding, and pampering the pigs and cleaning their pen. I knew that if anything happened to those pigs, than my mother would probably make my life even worse than it already was somehow.
I leafed through my (sort of) book of spells and found one that caught my attention. It seemed simple enough. But, of course, it would be hard to execute, as with all spells. The pronunciation of a spell was the key, since all spells are written in a language long lost to the ages. I figured not even the spirit sages knew how to speak it.
The spell called for me to recite these words- “Incantum enchantum, eefle schmeigner dornaws zacrunos, beyt ze prew hao pwex dar!”
I almost stumbled over the words but after some practice I thought I had it figured out. I conjured up a grey raincloud to clean the pigpen and the pigs, figuring the rain would quench the pig’s thirst and bathe them. This cloud was small enough that it covered only the area the pigs were in, and slowly it worked. The mud and grime and unspeakable substances on the pigs washed away, leaving me to watch without a care in the world.
I stood admiring my work, listening to the steady pitter-patter of the rain. But my ears detected something wrong: the beat of the rain became harder and faster. The pigs were clean by now, but the rain cloud did not fade and vanish as planned.
The water began to pool around my feet, and I could tell something was wrong. While I stood there helplessly, the rain continued to accelerate. The walls of the pigpen were filling with water gradually. The pigs moaned and grunted. When the water got high enough, the pigs flailed their legs in an attempt to swim. I heard one last groan before they sunk under, unable to support their body weight. It was a terrible thing to see. I fled the scene. If I didn’t get out of there fast, I would drown too.
I ran to my room and dried myself with a piece of torn cloth. My mother didn’t know that I could control (term used very loosely) magic, and had been using it on many occasions to help with my chores. But worse than her finding out about my magic was her finding out about the pigs. She made sure to give them more than she gave me, and always kissed them goodnight. I knew she would rather sacrifice me than her beloved pigs.
“Ellise!” my mother called. “What happened here?” I figured that she had noticed the trail of water leading up to my room. “Uh, nothing!” I replied. “And how are my piggy dears doing?”
I hesitated. “Why? Are you going to check on them?” I said in my best non-suspicious voice. “Well,” my mother replied, “now I am! I’m onto you Ellise!”
I ran down to the pigpen to find my mother soaking wet and crying, with a pig’s lifeless body at her feet. The pigpen walls had burst with water, flooding our backyard. Luckily, the cloud had disappeared. But the cloud was the least of my worries.
“ELLISE! YOU KILLED MY PIGS!” she screamed, her eyes bulging and face turning red. “I can’t even BEGIN to think of a punishment fitting of such a horrible deed! And to think all this time you had been toying with magic like it was a child’s rattle!”
I looked down, small droplets of water moistening my eyes. I drowned out my mother’s words and almost considered removing my spellbook from my pocket, but thought better of it.
Later that week, I sat in my cot, weeping, looking at my bald head in the mirror and the branding mark on my cheek. Were pigs really worth this much?
*** ONE YEAR LATER***
I almost smiled the first time in months in spite of myself. My mom had invited two guests over for dinner, and she had drunk enough wine to be reasonably nice to me.
“Ellise, be a dear and go fetch us a turkey dinner,” said my mother in a sweet voice as she enjoyed another glass of wine. “Alright mother.” I walked into the kitchen, and after thinking about it and the time I killed the pigs, I took out my spellbook. I sighed and muttered “Ignayo alrech gorvilious desando,” and a purple fire lit from under the turkey on a spit. “This better work,” I thought to myself. I walked away to the dining room, hid my spellbook, and sat down in an oaken chair.
I chatted with my intoxicated mother about all sorts of topics she would have never discussed in front of me. Suddenly, after I had finally relaxed, I heard a crackling behind me. “What’s that?” cried one of my mother’s guests.
“I’ll be right back,” I said hurriedly and ran to the kitchen. The fire had brutally burnt the turkey and was spreading to the rest of the kitchen.
The fire engulfed the drawer I had hid my spellbook in and with a small bang, it exploded in a puff of smoke. By now the fire was spreading throughout the house faster than any natural flame, and much too fast for me to stop it. I fled the house as part of the roof collapsed, nearly crushing me. There was nothing I could do about it. I tried to recall the rain spell, but I couldn’t remember. I watched from a hill as the house slowly burned, my mother and her friends perishing with it.
I sobbed as I heard the shrieks of the three women inside the house. The house crumbled until only its core structure and ashes remained. I sobbed and cursed the day I decided to steal the spellbook from that sorcerer. I called my feeble attempts at magic every name under the sun.
Then, in front of me, the air began to shimmer, and a djinn appeared. I had only heard of djinns in a book my father had read to me before he was killed fighting King Mlezzis’ men. The djinn was a green, wispy, muscular man with only a torso, arms, and a head. He floated towards me as I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. He spoke only four words. “Find the last sage.” Then, he disappeared.
-Andrew
ps. Maybe I should blog more often. I'll thing about trying to blog daily instead of weekly.
Chapter I
Ellise’s Dilemma
“Ellise! Clean out the pigpen!” my mother called, without the slightest hint of gratitude for my willingness to act like a slave for her own nefarious-seeming purposes. She always had me doing something for her pigs.
“I’m on it!” I yelled back to my mother. I mumbled to myself about how my mother was always obsessed with the cleanliness and well-being of her precious porcine pets. I was almost beginning to think that my mother liked her pigs more than she liked me.
Before I set upon my task, I looked into my bedside mirror, admiring my some-what good looks that barely resembled my mother’s (mule-like) face. I had a thin face and body, probably due to small food rations, and straight, brown hair that ran down to my shoulders. I looked quite mature for a sixteen-winter old girl. For some strange reason, now and then I saw my blue eyes flicker to a neon purple shade, perhaps a side effect of working in the sun all day. I didn’t think about it much.
I always believed in the Gods, and felt as if my life had some greater purpose, waiting for me to become something great. My chance was waiting for me just as my pigpen duties were. But all this labor and boredom was a buildup. I believed that with all my heart.
I’m curious and mischievous, not the smartest girl, but not stuck up like the other girls in my kingdom, blinded with lust and men. But for me, I had never had a relationship. In fact, I only ever got of this wretched hut for trips to the marketplace.
Despite the endless rain of insults spewing from my mother, I think I’m a pretty nice young lady. But in this kingdom, you won’t go anywhere by being “kind” or “down-to-earth.” The only women with a reasonable income were the maidens and princesses, two things that I despise.
Again I distracted myself from the task at hand by gazing into the foggy hillside that lay in front of me. I was always stunned by those distant structures crafted by men before my time, with no detail missed, no effort spared. I figured magic was used, although my mother always taught that magic was a myth. But I knew better.
The fortress of the spirit sages loomed in the background along with the other imaginative buildings. It was the home of the greatest wizards in the world who had been around longer than anyone can remember. They were sworn to protect ancient wizard scrolls and artifacts and spells known only by the oldest members. I hoped to someday join them. But now, as much as I wished to be casting spells with the Great Spirit sages, I should be cleaning the pigpen.
I was currently training myself in magic, and I had snuck a spellbook from the house of an amateur sorcerer. I knew that, since I had no trainer, I had to take small steps. I smiled deviously, and decided to spare myself the torturous grease and grime of washing, feeding, and pampering the pigs and cleaning their pen. I knew that if anything happened to those pigs, than my mother would probably make my life even worse than it already was somehow.
I leafed through my (sort of) book of spells and found one that caught my attention. It seemed simple enough. But, of course, it would be hard to execute, as with all spells. The pronunciation of a spell was the key, since all spells are written in a language long lost to the ages. I figured not even the spirit sages knew how to speak it.
The spell called for me to recite these words- “Incantum enchantum, eefle schmeigner dornaws zacrunos, beyt ze prew hao pwex dar!”
I almost stumbled over the words but after some practice I thought I had it figured out. I conjured up a grey raincloud to clean the pigpen and the pigs, figuring the rain would quench the pig’s thirst and bathe them. This cloud was small enough that it covered only the area the pigs were in, and slowly it worked. The mud and grime and unspeakable substances on the pigs washed away, leaving me to watch without a care in the world.
I stood admiring my work, listening to the steady pitter-patter of the rain. But my ears detected something wrong: the beat of the rain became harder and faster. The pigs were clean by now, but the rain cloud did not fade and vanish as planned.
The water began to pool around my feet, and I could tell something was wrong. While I stood there helplessly, the rain continued to accelerate. The walls of the pigpen were filling with water gradually. The pigs moaned and grunted. When the water got high enough, the pigs flailed their legs in an attempt to swim. I heard one last groan before they sunk under, unable to support their body weight. It was a terrible thing to see. I fled the scene. If I didn’t get out of there fast, I would drown too.
I ran to my room and dried myself with a piece of torn cloth. My mother didn’t know that I could control (term used very loosely) magic, and had been using it on many occasions to help with my chores. But worse than her finding out about my magic was her finding out about the pigs. She made sure to give them more than she gave me, and always kissed them goodnight. I knew she would rather sacrifice me than her beloved pigs.
“Ellise!” my mother called. “What happened here?” I figured that she had noticed the trail of water leading up to my room. “Uh, nothing!” I replied. “And how are my piggy dears doing?”
I hesitated. “Why? Are you going to check on them?” I said in my best non-suspicious voice. “Well,” my mother replied, “now I am! I’m onto you Ellise!”
I ran down to the pigpen to find my mother soaking wet and crying, with a pig’s lifeless body at her feet. The pigpen walls had burst with water, flooding our backyard. Luckily, the cloud had disappeared. But the cloud was the least of my worries.
“ELLISE! YOU KILLED MY PIGS!” she screamed, her eyes bulging and face turning red. “I can’t even BEGIN to think of a punishment fitting of such a horrible deed! And to think all this time you had been toying with magic like it was a child’s rattle!”
I looked down, small droplets of water moistening my eyes. I drowned out my mother’s words and almost considered removing my spellbook from my pocket, but thought better of it.
Later that week, I sat in my cot, weeping, looking at my bald head in the mirror and the branding mark on my cheek. Were pigs really worth this much?
*** ONE YEAR LATER***
I almost smiled the first time in months in spite of myself. My mom had invited two guests over for dinner, and she had drunk enough wine to be reasonably nice to me.
“Ellise, be a dear and go fetch us a turkey dinner,” said my mother in a sweet voice as she enjoyed another glass of wine. “Alright mother.” I walked into the kitchen, and after thinking about it and the time I killed the pigs, I took out my spellbook. I sighed and muttered “Ignayo alrech gorvilious desando,” and a purple fire lit from under the turkey on a spit. “This better work,” I thought to myself. I walked away to the dining room, hid my spellbook, and sat down in an oaken chair.
I chatted with my intoxicated mother about all sorts of topics she would have never discussed in front of me. Suddenly, after I had finally relaxed, I heard a crackling behind me. “What’s that?” cried one of my mother’s guests.
“I’ll be right back,” I said hurriedly and ran to the kitchen. The fire had brutally burnt the turkey and was spreading to the rest of the kitchen.
The fire engulfed the drawer I had hid my spellbook in and with a small bang, it exploded in a puff of smoke. By now the fire was spreading throughout the house faster than any natural flame, and much too fast for me to stop it. I fled the house as part of the roof collapsed, nearly crushing me. There was nothing I could do about it. I tried to recall the rain spell, but I couldn’t remember. I watched from a hill as the house slowly burned, my mother and her friends perishing with it.
I sobbed as I heard the shrieks of the three women inside the house. The house crumbled until only its core structure and ashes remained. I sobbed and cursed the day I decided to steal the spellbook from that sorcerer. I called my feeble attempts at magic every name under the sun.
Then, in front of me, the air began to shimmer, and a djinn appeared. I had only heard of djinns in a book my father had read to me before he was killed fighting King Mlezzis’ men. The djinn was a green, wispy, muscular man with only a torso, arms, and a head. He floated towards me as I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. He spoke only four words. “Find the last sage.” Then, he disappeared.
Where are we?
My coauthor and I are currently writing chapter thirty-three, and we’re on page 141. We’re almost done with the first draft, and expect the book to be out by Christmas. I’ve never needed to predict finishing dates, so do not expect me to be right. It could be out long before then, and it could be out in the middle of next year. I’m aiming for Christmas.-Andrew
ps. Maybe I should blog more often. I'll thing about trying to blog daily instead of weekly.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Godblood
I just realized that I created this blog to promote the book I’m coauthoring, and I’ve never posted in it. I thought- Why don’t I change that? So, now that the book’s almost complete, I might as well start posting weekly. So. What is Godblood? It’s not us preaching Satanic messages. It’s a fantasy novel.
When a God is killed, the others must choose a mortal to take his or her place. The Gods choose a girl named Ellise, and choose Death as her mentor. Death is using her to gain dominance, though. Ellise must stop him from turning the Gods against each other and gaining absolute power.
But, although the humans had been decided on, Destruction would have none of it. He stood up and began yelling about how they should control humans for fun and to amuse themselves. It seemed that most of the Negative Gods had sided with Destruction, and vice versa with Creation.
Against the Council’s will, Destruction struck a quick blow at Creation, who stumbled back, stunned. Creation prepared to shoot a magic beam at Destruction, but was caught off guard by an attack from Fear. Before the battle got too serious, the minor God Magic tried to interrupt the intense battle, with which War had just entered. Peace also tried to settle this brawl, but was ignored by the others. Peace saw the fight, and knew it needed to be stopped before it got too serious. Peace attempted to calm the fighters, but was assaulted by Famine, who struck Peace to the ground with his scythe. After a failed attempt at using his powers to freeze time, Magic tried pulling War away from the others, only to be stabbed fatally by War’s sword. The other Gods showed obvious distress when they saw the tip of War’s sword emerging from Magic’s chest.
In moments, Magic fell to his knees and died. The Gods knew this was a horrible situation. But not horrible in the way you mortals would think it, but horrible mostly because the blood of a God had spilled. Now, before you think badly on the Gods for not caring about a God dying, and only caring about their blood, the importance of a God’s blood must be stressed. If a mortal managed to enter Paradise and get a hold of the blood of a dead God, then they could bring a deceased mortal back to life. Therefore, whenever a God’s blood spilled, cleanup was practically instantaneous.
Quickly, the minor God Cleanliness cleaned up the mess and contained the situation. It also soon became obvious that they would need to choose a mortal to become the new God of Magic, which would be a very difficult task. This was another dreadful thing that followed the death of a God- finding their replacement. This was an especially horrible task that came with a God’s slaughter. This was a principally difficult ordeal in battles, for Gods were dying right and left, and thus needed corresponding mortals to fill their places.
The Positives were furious at War and Destruction, while the Negatives egged them on, craving violence and chaos. It was this anger fueled a battle between the Gods themselves, a civil war. This war broke out between the two types of major Gods-Negative and Positive. These sides could also be assisted by any Elementals who choose to help, so Fire and Earth joined the Negatives and Water and Wind joined the Positives.
Tensions between Positives and Negatives were always high, but there was a mutual understanding that both sides needed the other for a functional world. They all knew that a war would throw off the balance of the universe. But in only moments, the thin line between balance and chaos was crossed. No one could even attempt to be reasonable, lest they be considered vulnerable, weak. Peace was unspoken of. If one wished to do anything about stopping the war, they had to do it in secret.
Both the Positives and Negatives were caught in a moment of weakness, a moment of blind fury, and they lashed out at each other. This is how the most brutal battle in history began.
You can find chapter 1 here: [LINK].
-- Andrew
What’s it about?
The Gods disagree on how much they should influence the mortals, and that argument quickly turns into a heated battle. Eventually, War stabs the God of Magic and kills him, which causes a war.When a God is killed, the others must choose a mortal to take his or her place. The Gods choose a girl named Ellise, and choose Death as her mentor. Death is using her to gain dominance, though. Ellise must stop him from turning the Gods against each other and gaining absolute power.
Sample Chapters
I’m going to share the prologue and the first chapter with you:Prologue
The Council of the Gods had gathered to discuss matters of war in the meeting chamber. All Gods, major and minor were in attendance. Destruction had wanted to directly control human life and manipulate the way their civilization evolved, but that only sparked Creation’s anger towards him. After a long argument, it was decided that the humans would choose their own fate, only to be helped occasionally by the Gods. Perhaps, looking back, Creation would regret this.But, although the humans had been decided on, Destruction would have none of it. He stood up and began yelling about how they should control humans for fun and to amuse themselves. It seemed that most of the Negative Gods had sided with Destruction, and vice versa with Creation.
Against the Council’s will, Destruction struck a quick blow at Creation, who stumbled back, stunned. Creation prepared to shoot a magic beam at Destruction, but was caught off guard by an attack from Fear. Before the battle got too serious, the minor God Magic tried to interrupt the intense battle, with which War had just entered. Peace also tried to settle this brawl, but was ignored by the others. Peace saw the fight, and knew it needed to be stopped before it got too serious. Peace attempted to calm the fighters, but was assaulted by Famine, who struck Peace to the ground with his scythe. After a failed attempt at using his powers to freeze time, Magic tried pulling War away from the others, only to be stabbed fatally by War’s sword. The other Gods showed obvious distress when they saw the tip of War’s sword emerging from Magic’s chest.
In moments, Magic fell to his knees and died. The Gods knew this was a horrible situation. But not horrible in the way you mortals would think it, but horrible mostly because the blood of a God had spilled. Now, before you think badly on the Gods for not caring about a God dying, and only caring about their blood, the importance of a God’s blood must be stressed. If a mortal managed to enter Paradise and get a hold of the blood of a dead God, then they could bring a deceased mortal back to life. Therefore, whenever a God’s blood spilled, cleanup was practically instantaneous.
Quickly, the minor God Cleanliness cleaned up the mess and contained the situation. It also soon became obvious that they would need to choose a mortal to become the new God of Magic, which would be a very difficult task. This was another dreadful thing that followed the death of a God- finding their replacement. This was an especially horrible task that came with a God’s slaughter. This was a principally difficult ordeal in battles, for Gods were dying right and left, and thus needed corresponding mortals to fill their places.
The Positives were furious at War and Destruction, while the Negatives egged them on, craving violence and chaos. It was this anger fueled a battle between the Gods themselves, a civil war. This war broke out between the two types of major Gods-Negative and Positive. These sides could also be assisted by any Elementals who choose to help, so Fire and Earth joined the Negatives and Water and Wind joined the Positives.
Tensions between Positives and Negatives were always high, but there was a mutual understanding that both sides needed the other for a functional world. They all knew that a war would throw off the balance of the universe. But in only moments, the thin line between balance and chaos was crossed. No one could even attempt to be reasonable, lest they be considered vulnerable, weak. Peace was unspoken of. If one wished to do anything about stopping the war, they had to do it in secret.
Both the Positives and Negatives were caught in a moment of weakness, a moment of blind fury, and they lashed out at each other. This is how the most brutal battle in history began.
You can find chapter 1 here: [LINK].
-- Andrew
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