Writing prompts coming January 1, 2014

Starting on January 1, 2014, visitors to Doc Says Rawr! will be able to avail themselves of daily writing prompts.  These will be in various forms, sometimes pictures, sometimes music, sometimes prose, and sometimes just genre, character, setting, and a plot seed to fuel your writing.

Sometimes, you might even get a bit of prose out of me based on the writing prompts I post!

Visitors are welcome to share these prompts as long as they link back to me.  If the prompt provided sparks something wonderful, run with it!  The writing process can be awesome like that, and best of luck to you with whatever you come up with.  I claim no ownership of whatever you come up with based on the prompts I provide.

See everyone on January 1 for prompt #1!

Current projects and ramblings

Well, November’s over and we’re now well into December and I’ve been busy the past few months, as I’m sure folks have noticed.  My updates for Ashes to Ashes and Awakenings have been shorter than usual for the past few months, for which I whole-heartedly apologize!  I’ve been spending some time recharging my batteries the past few weeks and prior to that was knee-deep in some plotting with a few friends for some potential collaborations (in a new fantasy universe, the science fiction universe of The General’s Lady, and in the UNSETIC/Lost Angels universe), but now I’m getting back on track with my own work and I’m loving every minute of it.

I spent my November getting deeply reacquainted with my Epsilon universe and of my NaNoWriMo work, folks may be seeing some short works about General Jackson “Longshot” Hunter, JJ Collins, and perhaps a few others that have been mentioned in Broken Stars and Falling Stars only briefly. Stay tuned for updates on that front.

More recently, I have begun to work on edits and reviews for the special edition of War Drums and the (somewhat belated) release of Awakenings book three, Omens and Echoes.  As a result, Phelan O’Credne has decided to take up residence in a warm corner of my brain and is rocking back and forth, hoping I don’t do some of the awful things I’m pondering for the universe going forward (I’m currently writing and posting book four at awakenings.embklitzke.com).  More updates on that coming soon.

It’s shaping up to be a fun end of year for me, both as a writer and as a crafter (I got a new sewing machine and have been using it to make wonderful things lately).  The new year promises to bring new goals and a niece for me to spoil rotten.

There will be some changes and new weekly features coming in the next few weeks, so check back often!

On writing the Lost Angel Chronicles

I’ve been asked here and there where I came up with the idea for the Lost Angel Chronicles–for the Institute, for the characters fighting against it and the characters who are involved with it.  One of my cousins, after reading What Angels Fear, couldn’t sleep for a few nights, wondering where I had come up with such a “twisted” idea (Allie was more than a little disturbed, from what I gather, after reading What Angels Fear).

The Lost Angels came from a few different places.  The first and earliest of them was a chain novel project I worked on with some fellow ops from the #Authors channel on the Undernet (from what I understand, it still exists, though I haven’t been around to check it out in a very, very long time).  What started with a girl arriving at a mysterious institution became something much darker very quickly when I had the opportunity to introduce Hadrian Bridger, Allyson Conner, and Ky Monroe–much to the dismay of at least one of my fellow writers, who was going for more of an X-Men kind of thing (this was in the days before Harry Potter, mind you).  I had the idea for Hadrian in listening to Sarah McLachlan’s “Building a Mystery”–a quiet, mysterious and powerful boy with a candle and a Tarot deck secreted away in a safe place.

When I embarked on my first foray into NaNoWriMo, I obtained the blessing of my fellow chain writers to take some of the characters and concepts created as part of our short-lived project and develop them into something new and broader, more full than what we’d embarked on before.  I adjusted the timeline forward and began on a November afternoon with a college-aged Ky Monroe thinking that the people she’d loved when she was young were now all dead at the Institute’s hands.  I was a college junior at the time, a liberal living in a conservative area of Michigan, feeling constricted and disturbed by the amount of evangelizing going on at my public university and knowing I wasn’t alone in the feeling.  I was majoring in history and anthropology with a minor in political science and started to think about what could happen if a militant evangelical cult got its hands on children and teenagers with special gifts.

It was pretty much all downhill from there.  By the end of November, I’d written more than the requisite 50,000 words and was still going.  I hit 80,000 words and change in December and called it a day, then tucked the manuscript away, knowing that there were pacing issues and other conceptual issues that I would need to address someday.  I would write a sequel to When All’s Said and Done the following year for NaNoWriMo, an unfinished project I titled When the Gods Cry, dealing with the now-married Ky Monroe and Hadrian Bridger and their circle of friends (including an also-married Reece and Matthew) and the unexpected kidnapping of Ky and Hadrian’s young children by a remnant of the Institute.  This, too, was placed on a digital shelf and left for a time when I had more time and brainpower to devote to it, and there both projects languished for a long while, overshadowed by works like Epsilon and the nascent Awakenings, among other projects.

One bachelor’s degree and a Master’s degree later, a fateful road trip with my best friend many years later sowed the seeds of my return to the universe I’d created with When All’s Said and Done.  I had seen signs for Starr Commonwealth before on other trips along I-96 and I-94, but something on that particular trip (I think we were on our way to the Silver Leaf Renaissance Festival) tripped a synapse in my brain.  A few days later, I sat down at my desk with iTunes, a sheaf of college-ruled notebook paper, and a green felt-tipped pen and started to write.

A half dozen and more pages later, I realized that I was writing about Ridley Thys, one of the Lost Angels, mentioned only in passing in When All’s Said and Done and When the Gods Cry, a character that had featured briefly in the project initially developed as the chain novel way back when I was still in high school myself.

What Angels Fear and the whole of the Lost Angel Chronicles are in part about what rampant extremism can lead to when left unchecked (or, as the UNSETIC Files and later Lost Angels works will show, when extremism is left largely unchecked).  It is also about characters and people–what binds us together and keeps us apart, what makes us tick.  What brings Julia and Ridley together is a belief that no one should ever suffer as he’s suffered, a trust born of desperation that blossoms into more.  It’s about people learning to care, learning to love–and learning that the price of loving someone can be very high indeed.

While I’m sorry to have disturbed some people who’ve read it, I’m glad that What Angels Fear made them feel something.  I’m glad it makes people think.  I don’t write literary fiction, I write genre fiction, but sometimes, that’s the best way to put forth an idea and start a conversation.

If What Angels Fear and the rest of the Lost Angel Chronicles starts a conversation, I’ll be happy.  If they don’t but they entertained and left people wanting more…well.  I’ll just have to feed that demand for more.

Have you read What Angels Fear yet?  Leave a note with your thoughts and gut reactions.  I’d love to hear them as I continue to craft the continuing stories of Julia, Ridley, Ky, Hadrian, and al the rest.

Snippet Sunday: Untitled fantasy piece

This week’s snippet is short, just a little taste of a little fantasy world (okay, a sweeping, epic fantasy world) that I’ve been tooling around with for several years.

No break here, just the snip.

            Kaelen took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, glancing toward Talasin as he did.  “I don’t know that I can do this, Master Talasin.”

The elder elf offered him a wry smile; the boy looked about as unsure as he felt.  “I don’t know that I can, either, Kael, but we don’t have any choices left, do we?  They’re waiting for us, and there’s no turning back now.  None at all.”

The chamber that held the spellblades lay beyond a heavy door of dark oak, carved in the old elvish style, with sinuous vines twisting and curling around sigils, in knots that no mortal being could hope to unravel.  It seemed ominous, only heightening their trepidation.

Talasin reminded himself of his own words.  There’s no turning back now.  He clapped Kaelen on the shoulder and nodded.  “I think it’s time.”

The younger man drew a deep breath and exhaled it, then nodded back.  “All right.  Let’s go.”

The elder mage took a few steps forward and stood before the doors, murmuring the words to a spell he’d known for a long while but never dared to utter.  The vines carved into them started to unwind from their knots; the doors parted, granting the two elves entry into the rotunda that housed the istyanda.  Blue witchlights sprang to life as the pair entered, casting eerie light and long shadows throughout the room.  Ten statues stood at intervals around the room, six of them bearing sheathed blades in their upturned palms.  Talasin’s heart leapt.  He’d been here before, and all but forgotten.

Ten steps forward.  Silvered steel, dark pommel, polished blue dragonite as big as my thumb for the pommel cap.  He could see the blade already, knew what it would feel like in his hand.

And then he saw it, hovering above the statue’s hands, glowing faintly.  It drifted toward him, and he lifted his hands to accept the gift, the blade that had chosen him and no other.  It settled there and he could feel the weight of the blade; he could breathe again, more freely than he could recall before.  Phantom pains faded, noticed only for their sudden absence.  It was if the blade had completed the work his wife had started thirty years ago, making him whole once more.

It had chosen him the first time he had lain eyes on it and he had never known.

Snippet Sunday: Epsilon Broken Stars

This week’s snip is from Epsilon: Broken Stars–a bit of prose in which Aaron Taylor thinks of his beloved mother, Madeline, dead for several years by the time the story begins.Broken Stars cover - take two

In a universe where the fate of free worlds hangs in the balance, can one man make a difference?

The Resistance is a thin line of defense for the free planets of the Borderworlds.  The strip of former colonies forms a shrinking boundary between the Earth-controlled Drilin Imperium and the Epsilon Alliance, superpowers locked in a cold war a hundred years old.  It’s a no-man’s land home to billions living under the constant threat of Imperium invasion, a place where the Alliance dares not intercede for fear of sparking all-out war.

Aaron Taylor knows what’s at stake when he volunteers to join the Resistance.  The son of an Imperium general, the Alliance-trained military spy’s existence can be officially disavowed at a moment’s notice.  It’s work that’s already cost him everything he holds dear–including his beloved partner of seven years.

He joins the Resistance as a man with nothing left to lose at a time when the Resistance needs men like him the most.  It’s far from the disorganized rabble both the Alliance and the Imperium think it is, but without more able hands, the Borderworlds are doomed.  Soon, he begins to believe as they do–that there’s no hope for humanity without the men and women willing to fight and die for their homes on the border.

Torn between duty to both, when the chips are down, which will Taylor choose: the Alliance that made him, or the Resistance that made him its own?

Snippet below the break.


Continue reading “Snippet Sunday: Epsilon Broken Stars”