Into the New Year

I hope everyone reading this is having a good 2017 so far. For my first post of the year, I thought I'd put out a rambler of a post.

When I was a boy I found myself drawn to stories. I could never figure out why. As I grew older I began listening to less music, playing less videogames, and dropped out of most every fandom. But one thing that remained the same, and grew, was my love of story. The big change happened when I realized that what I was most concerned with in the stories I read was the fate of the characters' souls. This only really happened about five years ago.

Not to say I don't care if people die in stories, but that is not what fascinates me in them. What draws me into their tales is the struggle with a deeper evil or ill, and how they conquer them. It's not just about one man versus another. This is about conquering an evil that doesn't just wish to destroy, but eat souls for breakfast. It's about more than it seems at first.

If you want to know why I have enjoyed Brian Niemeier's Soul Cycle saga, Declan Finn's Love At First Bite series, David Gemmell's hero tales, shonen manga, old superhero comics, or the stories in Cirsova magazine, it is because there is often much more at stake than mere life or death. This is also why I really got into writing material like Knights of the End, and what I'm going to put out next year. Whether it is facing down Eternity, sin, alienation, extinction of one's kin or species, or the loss of Paradise, it is the struggle between despair and hope that drives the best stories. This is why I'm still a reader.

That is why every good story needs a good guy. Readers need someone to connect with in the grand battle between two opposing forces. This is why even in stories without them, readers will focus their attention on the brightest burnt bulb in the basement they can find. Rorschach in Watchmen is popular for this reason alone. Anti-heroes are subversive enough to draw in the smirking, nose-holding crowd, and the character might even be interesting on some level, but they ultimately fall flat in the long run. If you stain the white with too much black it eventually all blurs into a drab, murky mess of grey. This is all well and good for teenagers of a certain type and age, but for those of us escaping the despair of college deconstructionism, it offers very little beyond that first course sampler. My second reading of Watchmen left me freezing cold.

Heroes and villains work because opposing sharply contrasted ideals are dynamic. Competing visions and characters are exciting. This creates a conflict bigger than the protagonist that he might not even see at all. But the reader will see it on some level. Even in a story with no physical enemy, it is entirely reliant on the protagonist not succumbing to something intangible. There are still enemies.

Life is a battle for the souls. This is what pulses through every single great story, and why I still read them.

There are so many stories out there that I'll never get to them all, but this year opened my eyes to a lot of stories I might have otherwise never touched. As someone who avoided much modern fiction, it was one where I was introduced not only to much pulp, but newer authors more interested in telling a good story than lecturing their audience, as well as other authors I missed entirely that were also crafting their own tales. I learned a lot in 2016.

But 2017 is going to be a bit of a different year for me. I'll still be writing, and hopefully getting closer to my goal to write the sort of story people would want to read, but I'll be cutting my online time way down. What I said earlier about life being a battle for souls is very true, and I'm still going to fight it, however it is also a battle i need tor regain my focus on. This means prioritizing on a certain things at the expense of others. Therefore, this blog will probably only be updated twice a month next year, and there will be less posts overall.

Now, I still have reviews to post, in fact I'll have one this month, and I'll still do posts like this, but they will be less common. I apologize to any frequent readers, but it needs to be done.

As we enter 2017 I want every reader here to have a very blessed new year. I hope this will be a year of growth and improvement for you.

So I'll say it here: Happy New Year!

Signal Boost ~ Brian Niemeier's "The Secret Kings"

Purchase Here

The third book in Brian Niemeier's Soul Cycle saga is out today!

The description is as follows:

"The god of the Void is free. Aided by a Night Gen fleet, Shaiel’s fanatical Lawbringers spread his Will throughout the Middle Stratum and beyond.

Teg Cross, whose mercenary career took him to hell and back, finds the old world replaced by a new order on the brink of total war. A fateful meeting with a friend from his past sets him on a crusade to defy Shaiel’s rule. 

Meanwhile, Nakvin strives to muster a last-ditch resistance in Avalon. But can worldly kings and queens stand against divine wrath?"

For those of us who have read the first two books . . . well, let's just say this sounds very appetizing!

If you're interested in this series then please read my reviews of Book I and Book II to see if they are up your alley. Long story short, think Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror, if they were all one interchangeable genre, with anime, JRPG, and classic genre fiction influences. If any of that sounds like your bag then the Soul Cycle series might just be for you.

2016 has been one strange ride for anyone paying attention, and it still isn't quite over yet. Something tells me this book should be quite the way to end it.

Also, if you haven't checked it out, my first book was recently released. Its a story about a boy who discovers a hidden power from another world, and fights to save his hometown from encroaching darkness.

You can check out Knights of the End here.

Here's hoping 2017 will bring just as many pleasant surprises as this year has.

Where did it come from?

Available Here!

So you might be wondering where exactly this whole thing came from? It certainly just didn't drop out of thin air. A strange concept like this has its roots in the particularly over-watered plant that is my brain.

It started when I decided to take part in NaNoWriMo 2014. I'd been writing for a few years but couldn't make much progress in what I wanted to do. In October as I thought about what to do next I suddenly thought about the stories I liked growing up. The climate is much different now when it comes to not only YA books, but for comics, manga, and television.

Knights of the End started as a throwback. I just wanted to write the type of story that 13 year old me would have swallowed up-- a story of action, adventure, and magic, with a heavy dose of fun. I wrote the entire story in less than a month without an outline by the seat of my pants. It was probably the most difficult and yet easy thing I've written so far.

When I was a kid I watched a lot of cartoons and read a lot of comics. I read books too, but those only really fueled my imagination when I was older.

Fantasy has always been my wheelhouse. It's always been the most fascinating genre to me, but I've never been enthused by the Tolkien aping that went on while I was growing up. Much as The Hobbit was my favorite book as a boy, I never felt compelled to rewrite it. I enjoyed the wonder of new places and situations, the magic hidden just out of sight in the corners of our world, and the fierce loyalty and courage of warriors who stood against the darkness. That was where my inspiration lies.

Knights came together from all my inspirations to make the sort of story I'd always imagined should have existed somewhere. But of course that doesn't mean it would be simple. The first draft came easy, but ironing it out took significantly longer.

I spent 2015 ironing out the story and writing backstory, even planning out sequels (still no outlines), while simultaneously writing other stories (I'm pretty sure those have all been scrapped) before 2016 came around. That was when I learned to edit properly, and began to click in my head how to write with focus.

And now it's out.

Knights is important to me not just as a book, but because it helped me understand so much about writing. You see, there is no library where I live. There are no writing groups or courses I can take. It was basically about learning from books and the good advice I got from others that I managed to finish this at all. I'd written stories before but Knights is the one that got me on track.

While finishing up Knights of the End I've also begun several other projects building on what I've learned here. So if you liked it and want more, rest assured that what comes next will be even better!

And leave a review! That's the best way I can know where I succeeded and how to build on it in the future.

Check it out here!

It's out!

Finally, after much waiting on my end, I'm proud to announce that Knights of the End is finally out.

You can purchase it on Kindle here. Paperback version should hopefully not be far behind.

I plan on doing a more in depth post next week on where much of the story and ideas come from. For now, just check out the book!

Buy Knights of the End here!

Knights of the End Preview + Thanks

Being that tomorrow is the release of my first ever novel, I decided to make this post in celebration.

The Prologue:

Teddy MacIsaac stood atop the junkpile, victorious. In his hands shone a golden coin with a perfect circumference flashing against the afternoon sun. This was his treasure; this was what he would use to save the world.

The coin twinkled as he inspected both sides. No markings had been embedded on the flawless treasure. It fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. It spoke to him.

He was only a fourteen-year-old eighth grader, but Teddy knew greatness when he saw it. This was more than greatness. This was a gift from the heavens.

He climbed down the mountain of trash. His left arm shielded him from the light of the sun as he descended. His boots crunched into old Styrofoam and rotten food. He brushed himself off as he reached the trash strewn road at the bottom of the hill. Despite the shower he would undoubtedly need, his trek through the junkyard was still worth it. His nose would hate him forever, though.

It was almost unbelievable. The dreams had told him that unimaginable riches awaited him in the trash. He had searched that junkyard for over a year because of those dreams, and, in every moment he spent there, he knew he would find it. He never lost the faith.

Wind blew his strawberry blonde hair back. He brushed it clean.

He patted down his old green jacket to make sure no trash clung to him, and slid the coin into his pocket. Walking through the trash was worth it, even if he stunk like rotten milk and the taste of copper filled his mouth.

He removed his boots and put them into his backpack just like he did every day. There was nothing important in there, anyway. Just school books.

As he changed back into his red sneakers, a heat traveled through him and up his spine. Gooseflesh sprung up all over.

He stood up.

“Theodore MacIsaac,” a voice spoke into his mind. “Press your hands together, and heed the call.”

Skepticism overtook him but momentarily. He knew the words. He didn’t know how he knew them, but they echoed through his mind like a Prayer of Devotion that old warriors chanted before they charged into battle. Visions of lonely nights he’d spent over the last year flashed through him, and the familiar voice soothed his fears. This was his chance. He wouldn’t waver now.

Teddy clasped the coin between his pressed together palms like a prayer or a stance in a martial arts movie. Heat shot into his hands and through his body.

“I beg you,” he said, “bestow on me the glory!”

A flash of light overtook existence. Nothing remained but dabs of black against a white canvas. He was gone and then he was back again within a second, standing alone in the junkyard.

He blinked. “What did I just do?”

Teddy checked himself over. His old blue jeans and black shirt were still there, as was the rest of him.

But the coin was gone.

“No. No, no, no, no!”

He patted his pockets. He searched the garbage covered road around him. The coin had vanished.

He debated putting on his boots again and going back out into the trash. It was getting late, but this was a treasure worth more than being grounded. He wouldn’t go home empty-handed. Not after finally learning the dreams were real.

“I think MacIsaac came out here,” Stieg Johns said.

“I thought I heard someone yelling over there.”

Teddy froze. They’d found him. He cocked his ears and listened for the voices again.

“What would he be doing in the junkyard, anyway? Do all you eighth grade losers have brain damage or something?”

Teddy followed the sounds of the voices south down the narrow path between junk piles. He circled around as they drew near, making sure to keep their view obscured of his presence. Sure enough, his first inclination was right. They rounded the bend, joking away with each other. Teddy recognized the group of five teenagers. They were led by Stieg Johns and Corey Hoffman.

“You just don’t know MacIsaac, Corey,” Stieg said, in his best suck-up voice. “I’ve known the loser for years. Never throws a punch, runs from everything, still plays make believe in the woods. Hanging out at a junkyard is the exact sort of thing he would do. Besides, the garbage guy in the truck outside said he spotted a short kid with blonde hair hanging out here almost all summer. Who else would it be?”

Stieg Johns wore a non-threatening bowl-cut hairdo, a thick jacket two sizes too big for his average size, and had the face of a horse. If he didn’t latch on to Hoffman’s gang, he would have been even lower on the food chain than Teddy was.

There was a time that Stieg Johns was Teddy’s friend. That was before seventh grade started. Things changed. Teddy didn’t put much stock in friends anymore. They all ended up like Stieg.

“He is a freak,” Hoffman said, gazing around the piles of waste. “Man, it reeks here. Can’t stand it. Let’s just get him tomorrow. I know a guy that can make this much easier.”

Hoffman was burly, most of which was fat. He wore a thick black jacket and perfectly stylized spiky hair to complete his appearance as a thug. He’d been held back a year, which was fairly obvious to anyone who spoke with him for more than three seconds. It didn’t change the fact that he was the second most feared kid at school. Corey Hoffman was no wuss.

Stieg shrugged. “If you say so.”

“I do, Johns. Just because freaks hang out here, doesn’t mean I’m gonna. I’ve got places to be. Now, shut up and let’s get out of here.”

Teddy didn’t stick around to watch them leave. He sprinted over to the fence by the exit while they were still talking. He knew this place too well by now.

Without pause, he scurried over the fence. As he landed on the other side, a pang of regret knocked into him.

He didn’t want to be like Stieg. He didn’t want to fall in line and hand over his life to the first fat thug that sneered at him. He wanted real friends, and he wanted to be needed.

Teddy wanted to be a hero. He wanted to save the world. He wanted to be the monster-slaying hero from all those games they played as kids. Evil rises, Good slays it. No matter where the monsters struck, and no matter who the innocent was, there would always be a hero to make things right. That is how the world works. That is how it is supposed to be.

Teddy was going to be that hero.

Someday.

He leaned against the fence. His palms itched when he glared at them. He still stunk of sour milk. The whole situation was pathetic.

Teddy was no hero. He was still playing pretend.

And that wasn’t good enough anymore.

Finally, after wasting enough time, he decided to head home. His mom would kill him if he wasted anymore time.

The world was not what it had been when he was a kid. Was this the way things were supposed to be? Would it continue like this forever? A voice in the back of his head answered with one definitive statement.

“No.”

Heat built up inside Teddy MacIsaac’s body. If he didn’t know better, it was like he was ready to explode.


If that is not enough of a taste, here is another excerpt:

From Chapter 1:

Teddy excused himself from the table. He ducked out into the hall and up the stairs before anyone said anything. Drums rolled in his head.
His legs were lead. Each step to his room grew heavier. He shouldered open his door.
The pillow on his bed was much too perfect. He was out in seconds.
Then he was awake.
“What is all this?” he asked into the endless wind.
He stood atop a dune of ash in the middle of endless night. Blackened wind blew under the sunless sky. The land before him was dead.
Only rolling dunes of black slag remained in this scorched world. No scent of maples, pines, or the sights of the tall redwoods remained. McLeod was gone.
He took several steps forward. The pain had vanished, but his weariness had not. He tasted the dust in the back of his throat. A sense of magnetism tugged him onward.
“Up ahead, Theodore MacIsaac.”
There was a history here. Long dead voices whispered their forgotten tales in the ashen breeze. Something like magic had once filled these lands. But now, only death remained.
A thread of inevitability ran through him. Was he seeing the past, or the future?
But, then, he spotted it. A narrow object peeked out at the top of a hill of ash thirty feet away. It glinted like metal. A pipe? No. It was something far cooler than that.
“A sword!” Teddy shouted.
He sprinted through the whistling wind of the dead world. Up ahead was the last light shining through it. A chorus of endless voices ran through his mind. They guided him onward. He reached the top of the ashen mound, excitement replacing weariness.
The sword stared back at him, plunged into the darkness of the cinders. The hilt was shining white, unlike the flame-licked blade. Its presence pierced the void with white heat. He knew what it was. The Red Sword, a blade of stained crimson red, was calling him forward.
“Theodore MacIsaac, are you ready to heed the call?”

Want to read the rest? Check back tomorrow!

I had a lot of help to get through this one. L. Jagi Lamplighter, my editor, was the most important in shaping this story up. Being that I wrote this in a NaNoWriMo, I edited it quite a bit, but somehow never took a scalpel to the prose.

That was a mistake.

Due to the insistence of my editor, I ended up rewriting from scratch, and using the help of several others (including my parents and my friend, Randy) to help me improve. I learned a lot from them and will be making sure my next work is better tempered before I send it to my editor. Thanks to all of you.

And thanks, Jagi. You really helped me shape this story up! I apologize for making it difficult on you.

Tovio Rogers did my cover. I quite liked his art and how it matched the visual design I had in mind when writing. Check out his art when you get the time. He's got quite a unique style to his work. Thanks, Tovio.

Dawn Witzke helped lay out the design for the text and print book cover. She did a great job. The speed in which she received my request and finished was remarkable. Thanks, Dawn.

Also, thanks to advice from Brian Niemeier, I enlisted the help of Polgarus Studio to format my story for print and e-book.

I would also like to offer additional thanks to both the aforementioned Mr. Niemeier and Declan Finn for both helping with my blurb, and for their general inspiration as independent writers. Thank you for showing me that there is only one rule in writing: please the readers. I hope I have followed through on that.

There are many other people I would like to thank, but that list is way too long. If you have ever chatted with me, linked to my blog, or just posted about your own love of stories, then I will also give you my gratitude.

And thanks to Jesus Christ, our Lord and Redeemer. I would certainly not be able to write this without Him.

Please be sure to check out Knights of the End when it releases tomorrow. December 1st is when we light the world on fire.

Announcing "Knights of the End"

Cover art by Tovio Rogers
Cover design by Dawn Witzke

I'm finally ready to unleash my first novel into the wilds, after many false starts and just as many edits. I have a lot of people to thank for this, and will in my next post. This book has been a long time coming.

Knights of the End is a young adult novel that was written after I thought about how drab most YA was these days. Being that S.E. Hinton was the author that first got me into reading, I felt called to write something of my own in the style. Why not just write the book I wanted to read when I was thirteen? No one had written that yet. And that was how this story began.

The premise of Knights is that an evil force from a different world has landed in ours. Over the years it has hidden in the shadows, slowly building its forces for the day it can take over. They are the Order of the Ash, and they are out to reshape the world. That is where this book starts.

The titular Knights of the End are a group of warriors from the old world tasked with bringing the Order of the Ash to an end. Fourteen year old Teddy MacIsaac soon finds himself as the new Pyre Knight, the Knight of Flames, and the first line of defense as his town comes under siege. Can he finally be the hero he always wanted to be, or are heroes really just fairy tales?

The #1 goal with this story was to make so many different parts work together. You'll see elements of shonen manga, magical girl, Gargoyles, Ronin Warriors, superheroes, 80s action and fantasy movies, S.E. Hinton, pulp action, and a battle between good and evil that transcends worlds, all blended into one story. I tried to make this a love letter to all the things that inspired me.

Needless to say, it took a long time to put this together.

This all came about after years of disappointment from the modern entertainment industry. The type of stories I liked growing up in the late 80s and 90s has all but vanished from the landscape. Books had ceased being fun, especially in the fantasy, horror, and science fiction arena, and YA books, meant to stir the imagination of kids and teenagers, had also begun to revel in despair and "important ideas" instead of adventure and fun. I wanted to write something different than all that.

I wrote Knights of the End to see if I could capture that feeling of excitement I got from the stories of my youth. Whether I succeeded or not depends on the readers, so please let me know what you think by leaving reviews.

It will be out December 1st, God willing, so please keep an eye out! I'll be making a post for its launch.

Thanks to all the blog readers, and those who have linked here. You have given me the impression that maybe the stories that have inspired me are still wanted nowadays. This one is for you.