Tag Archives: drunkard

“The Drunkard” Begins at Patreon!

For years, the Oster merchant Neb has been nagging at me to finish his story. For years, I’ve been trying to do so. But now–thanks to the whisper of another character who said simply, “It’s me, ma’am. Don’t worry about them.”–the story is rumbling along apace. And truly, not a moment too soon. I needed a break from the heaviness that can be SheyKhala.

The Drunkard is set in the same lands as my novels, and readers will recognize reference to the land of Osterloh as the enemy not yet fully seen in the current storylines. We have threats and fights and battles and blood-hungry beings… but your narrator Neb is a sharp-tongued man with a knack for odd phrasings and secrets that are both softer and harder then he’s really comfortable talking about. And no matter what you might hear, he’ll have you know he is held in the highest esteem by those merchants who share his penchant for almost-licit dealings, and can count on any of them to nudge the border guards at the proper moment and with the appropriate coin (supplied, of course, by Neb himself).

The dear folks currently supporting me on Patreon will have exclusive, patron-only access to the novella as it unfolds. The first part is up at Patreon now. For a dollar a month, you can join up! I’ll also be revamping my Patreon page and offerings in the coming month, so if you’ve some patron-input you’d like to share, please do!

So here’s a taste of The Drunkard.

Um… wait, I didn’t mean it quite that way…

Ahem.

The Drunkard

Here’s how those storytelling dimwits begin the tale:

He rode into town at sunset, just as prophecy had foretold. The folk feared to meet his cold stare as he reckoned the worth of their lives against the risking of his own, for he alone could deliver them from the ancient evil that had descended upon Entibar.

Pah.

Blah, blah, PAH.

First of all, there was no prophecy. Just some babble from old Plegar, who forgot more often than not to pull up his trousers before tottering into the hostel for breakfast. There was no impressive arrival, either. Near as I could figure, the drunkard staggered out of some tavern in Jendayi, passed out amongst sacks of goatswool in the back of my wagon, went overlooked at the border crossing from Calligar to Osterloh, and slept all the way to Entibar. That’s where I found him—just as I’d pulled the wagon alongside my humble mudbrick home—when I tossed a half-empty jug of cheap Calligari wine over the back of the wagon bench.

Continue reading “The Drunkard” Begins at Patreon!

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Missing Omni

The deeper I sink into Sand of Bone revisions, the more trouble I’m having maintaining voice.  It’s fairly easy in large sections where revisions require a simple rework and rearrangement of what’s there.  But the places that require a bridge of new material–or an entire new chapter–I am struggling against the omni voice of Chant.

Writing in omni isn’t something I expected to so fall in love with.  Chant was an experiment, my chance to try out what author Sherwood Smith uses and speaks of with such excitement.  (And if you haven’t checked out her novels, you owe it to yourself to try them.)  But as I settled into the flow–developed a better feel for narrative shifts, grew comfortable with choosing whose eyes and ears and mind would be shared with the reader–I indeed fell in love with its dual nature.  Omni is at once direct and removed, simple and complicated, rich and streamlined.  It’s the broad focus of a panorama lens combined with the encompassing intimacy of a gentle kiss.

Now, with Sand, I feel as if I’m learning third all over again, which in some ways I am.  There is such a temptation to slip into omni, to re-write the entire thing in omni.  But shifting from third to omni isn’t a simple thing.  The switch would require a complete overhaul of its structure, timing, character revelations, important plot notes…  And I don’t have a storyteller–the behind-the-prose character telling the story.  Based on my experience with Chant, that lack is enough to kill the chances of omni working well.

So, no, Sand will remain third–at least until I reach the end of the rewrite, I suppose.  Then I’ll beg some beta feedback to see if it works.  If not, I shall shelve it, work it on Chant’s sequel, and Drunkard, and any other thing I can until I figure out what the heck I want to do with it.  Why not do that now?  Because I want beyond all wants to have the rewrite finished rather than aborted.

Either way, I am very glad I can choose to push it or not push it.  At this point, were I under a deadline, Sand would never be what I want it to be.

But the no-omni is indeed bugging the crap out of me.  I never dreamed third-person would feel so constricting and clunky.