I love journeying along a story as I write it, seeing it unfold through the minds and eyes of a range of characters. I enjoy the different angles, the different viewpoints, attitudes, hopes, dreams, different mentalities.
I write deep stories with interwoven threads, a tapestry of diverse perception. Despite the seeming complexity, my books are easy to read.
Most people enjoy my work. Not everyone, but then no writer will ever please everyone. All I can tell you is that more people like it than don’t, and most of those who like my books, love them. You’ll know if it’s your thing before you finish the first chapter – but I have the first four freely available to read on my blog. I want people to know what they’re getting. That’s fair, isn’t it?
He needs her. Sturn brought Aleisha into the team specifically for a reason.
Acceptance of perception beyond the five physical senses has ebbed and flowed throughout history. Societies have embraced it, feared it, rejected it, and embraced it again. Right now, in Sturn’s Empire, psi is accepted and utilized.
Sturn has been exiled, banished from the hub of Khekarian Rule ten years before. Capturing a specimen of alien-native that might help the war effort, will go a long way to getting him accepted back within the Imperial Court. Having a psychic’s insights will help him to know the right moment to advance, the right people to contact and guide a safe path for his return to power.
It doesn’t matter that Aleisha is unwilling. It doesn’t matter how bad she is at it. There are truthseers to keep her in line. Anyway, she’s all he’s got.
This is Sturn’s viewpoint in The Khekarian Threat. He has no interest in respecting the thoughts and desires of anyone else. He’s Khekarian royalty, he doesn’t have to care.
The door opened to the Khekarian’s hand and her awesome presence was within the room. Filling it immediately. Owning it outright. An assertive and predatory gaze homed in on Aleisha, leaving her feeling suddenly caged in with a ferocious animal, no escape and no chance of any.
On the job, Aleisha realized. A shudder rippled through her flesh.
Know your stuff! There are hidden gems inside knowing what you are writing about, snippets of information that bring the whole thing to life. As boring at it might sound, research will lift your work to new heights for professionalism alone.
When I started writing, the very thought of research was depressing. It seemed tedious and boring and a lot of effort, and I just wanted to write exciting bits and adventure.
Then I discovered that reading a soldier’s biography was exciting. Learning the modern process of fixing a broken jaw was deeply interesting. Finding out about police procedures or how an autopsy is done is riveting.
But it is the personal things that brings a story to life.
A policewoman friend told me of her experience while attending an autopsy. As the body had not been recovered until some days had gone by, she soaked a hanky in her favorite perfume and held that over her mouth and nose throughout the procedure. It didn’t help. In fact, it backfired. She was never able to wear that perfume again.
That’s the sort of snippet that puts the reader there. The unexpected consequences bring it to life. But you can’t write it if you don’t know it!
It had to be where laws were few and ineffectual, a place where the population was sparse, and law enforcement only existed inside remote settlements – the plight I gave to Aleisha could not be easy to overcome.
It was one of the reasons The Khekarian Threat is a sci-fi, although my love for science fiction would never have seen it anything else.
Wilderness planet colonization allows for almost any adventure. It also provides an assortment of backdrops with regard to different environments, politics, life, war, situations and delicious problems.
Murder, kidnapping and slavery just add to the fun!
Charlie could do nothing to save her. He watched and wept while his young wife bled out giving birth to a dead baby girl.
As young pioneers and First Wave settlers to the planet, they never saw the danger of true isolation. Now death had taken everything to live for. With his own hands, Charlie buried her, his wife and their unnamed daughter, there at the homestead they had been creating. He would never again appreciate the wilderness. He would never again step into their home.
Charlie never remarried. He grew old in one of the cities on Zumaridi, working as supervisor at the large transport warehouses, overseeing the delivery operations that serviced the towns and settlements across the globe.
Over the years, the road teams became his life. Some of them were like family to him.
That’s why he cares when things go horribly wrong for Aleisha.
Believe it or not, I was a shy kid, I found it easier to express my emotions through my writing and my fiction became my strongest venting place.
If I was angry, I’d write angry scenes. If I was upset, I’d weep through the eyes of my characters. I explored emotions and reactions, searched for solutions, and distracted myself from my life, all through the written word.
I pretty well moved into my early stories and stayed there as long and as often as I could. I fell asleep each night, there in my fictional worlds. I woke and slipped within my story again before even getting out of bed. Then I wondered why I missed so much in school, why I didn’t hear instruction and why my report card always said, “Must try harder.”
Over the years I found my own strengths, founded in solid experience (much of it taken aboard for the sake of my writing), but still the habit remains – I automatically step inside my current story as easily as breathing, frequently throughout the day. It’s such a part of me now, I’d be lost if it ever went away.