Tag Archives: writers

The Clairvoyant and the Exiled Prince.

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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.

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The Hidden Depths of Writers.

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The non-writers around you do not understand the process – to them a writer is someone who sits at a desk every day, producing reams of wonderful prose that turn into a book within weeks or months, to then be quickly embraced by a publisher.

What they don’t understand is the creative process, the time and effort and dedication needed to grow your skillsets – there’s more to being a writer than writing.

Not only do you have to know how to put words together, you have to know how to put ideas together, as well. You have to have solutions, connections, the Why, the How, the What. You have to get character development, plots and backdrops all worked out. You have to have done your research on a multitude of thing, events, professions, and gain some understanding of the psychology and drives of the individuals you are writing about.

So years go by. Your friends and family show support to varying degrees, but they’re not seeing what you are seeing, and they’re not seeing what’s going on beneath the surface. They understand that you have a passion to write, they even see you occasionally scribbling away, but they also see not much actually accumulating.

Instead, they see you staring the skyline, seemingly distracted or noncommittal, which doesn’t look much like dedication. Dedication, of course, is exactly what they are seeing, they just don’t recognize it.

So words sneak into the conversation about how perhaps you should turn your attention to a ‘proper’ career or maybe give up this foolishness. Most writers have jobs, they have ‘proper’ careers, it’s just not where their heart is – and foolishness? These people read books, right? They watch movies, yeah? Why is it ‘foolish’ to think you can produce in this line? It isn’t foolish, and while it might not sound like it, most of your friends and family actually would like you to succeed.

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An Experience at an Autopsy.

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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!

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DEADLY KHEKARIAN SOLDIER – From The Khekarian Threat, out now on Amazon.

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“She’s Khekarian,” Aleisha stated. Charlie didn’t see the problem.

“Yes, there are two of them,” he answered easily.

Soldiers?” Aleisha queried, swinging her head to look at him. She was invaded by deeper anxiety. “Didn’t you think I should know? Didn’t you think it was relevant?”

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She Bled to Death on a Wilderness World.

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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.

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Writing – A Method of Survival.

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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.

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AGGRESSIVE INTENT – From The Khekarian Threat, out now on Amazon.

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Khekarians were a warring civilization. They had a long history of raids and assaults against the Chiddran. In the last hundred years, their aggression had intensified and the gloves were off for real.

Not only were the Khekarians the instigators of a full-blown galactic war against the Chiddran Empire, they also claimed galactic dominance.

They already had most of it, now they wanted it all.

Terrans were the new kids on the block, their whole Sector a poor cousin to the affluent Chiddran Reach. The fear they felt was simple. When the Khekarian Empire finished with the Chiddran one, how long would it be before their attention turned to the young and still pitifully weak Terran expansion?

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A Killer in the Team and a Child of Mars.

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Aleisha was born on Mars. She was eleven when she moved to Earth and fell in love with the wondrous sights there – The cities were not domed, they were open and free – The sky was blue by day, not red, and the sunsets were opposite to what she was used to.

Best of all there was Earth’s natural wilderness. The sheer scope of it awed her, the diversity of flora and fauna excited her. It was all so alien to a child of Mars.

She knew from that moment on that she wanted to live and work in a wilderness setting. She wanted to become a pioneer. She wanted to explore new worlds. As soon as Aleisha was of age (16), she joined Space Exploration And Settlement (SEAS), then waited more than a year to be placed out along the distant edge of Terran space colonization.

Within days of her arrival, though, she realizes that her dream has turned into a nightmare, but there’s no going back now and no way out.

There’s a killer in the team, a murderer with no remorse, no care.

He’s Khekarian.

He wants to own her.

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Hidden Histories and Character Secrets.

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Characters have history, but I don’t always tell it – Some histories are hinted at, some are referred to, some never get a mention even though, when they develop in my mind, I intend there to be a place for them in the story.

Then the story expands and goes its own way and there just isn’t room anymore for that tale to be told. So, it’s discarded from the pages, but not from my mind. Was it wasted? No. That history still guides that character, it still makes that character who he or she is.

Some of those histories will find their way into these postings. I can show you then why some characters are as they are. You can see how I came to choose such a character and how each grew from their untold experiences.

While those histories might indeed be there in my books, although not plainly and not told in words but in deeds and feelings, outside my stories, I can give you a glimpse behind the scenes or, at least, into my mind. I can share some of these character secrets.

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DEADLY SERIOUS – From the Khekarian Threat, out now on Amazon.

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One of the women broke away from the activity around the semitrailers and headed in. She was tall and well-toned, dressed like a soldier, wearing the baggy khaki trousers and matching singlet top associated with the military pretty much everywhere. While the outfit and corresponding boots might point to someone playing the part, the belt loaded with equipment denoted something altogether more serious. Aleisha felt her first moment of apprehension.

Her hair was regulation short, almost shaved, but what was there was dark and sleek. It suited her, she had the bone structure and striking facial features to carry it well. Deadly good looks, Aleisha thought, the emphasis perhaps on deadly. The woman looked severe.

Aleisha tuned in to sense what she could, letting her energy expand outwards to gently connect with the stranger. She still hoped the outer image was some kind of display, a pseudo-persona, a toughness to show the world, but it wasn’t softness within that she met, it was a solid wall of vibrant, ruthless energy that blasted outwards with unexpected force.

The presentation was accurate.

No. The presentation was a hint.

Take the soldier, the training, the severity, and multiply that a hundredfold, that’s what was walking towards the office. This woman was all about combat.

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