A TASTE FROM “THROUGH KESTREL’S EYES”

 

 

 

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PROLOGUE:

 

Eleven year old Liannis sat on the sod roof of her parents’ cottage in her night-shift, stroking No-tail’s soft fur, and gazing into the night sky. She loved to sit here to think, but chose to do so only after she was sure her parents slept soundly below. They did not approve, fearing she might fall off and be injured. Liannis knew better. At times like this, No-tail, their small cat, usually followed her and took advantage of the warm nest made by the hammock of her skirt as she sat cross-legged.

As a small child, Liannis had spent many happy days at court playing with Lionn, Lord Gaelen’s son, Sennia, his sister, and Borless, the son of Lady Marja’s maid. But as she grew older, the press of her growing inner gifts made it harder to be among so many people. The impressions of their emotions pressed on her spirit and threatened to overwhelm her. Like Liethis, seer to the court of Bargia, she preferred the isolation of her home outside the city.

At first Lord Gaelen and Lady Marja had been reluctant to have their son and heir come to the cottage to visit with her here, fearing for his safety away from the guards. But Liannis knew he would come to no harm. She told them, with full confidence that nothing would happen to him as long as he was with her. Earth had told her so.

Gaelen had relented only upon assurance from Liethis, official seer of Bargia, that Liannis’ sight was true.  From that time on, under the watchful eyes of Liannis’ parents, the three children had visited with her often,. They had occasionally accompanied her in her night vigils on the roof.

Liannis had not returned to court again after her eighth summer. The press of impressions there caused her too much pain.

Tonight, Liannis kept her vigil alone. She considered what her future would hold. When she reached her twelfth birthday, she understood she would start spending the winter months with Liethis as her apprentice.

Liethis had already explained to Lord Gaelen and her parents that Liannis would grow into a much more powerful seer than she was. Liannis’ gifts of truth-reading and her ability to mind-speak birds and animals already outshone her own and had not yet grown into their full strength. But the girl needed other skills that would help her use her gifts to their full potential; how to dampen the press that would drive her mad otherwise, how to deal with persons of influence diplomatically and how to handle unwelcome questions from those whose problems were too small for Earth to be concerned with.

Liannis did not look forward to leaving her peaceful home but she understood its necessity. Already, she found it hard to control the barrage that assaulted her senses, and this would only increase. But at least the summers would still be spent here at home.

Liannis smiled, as she sensed her father reach for her mother and lay his sleeping arm across her waist. Earth had given her special parents. She knew they would never have another child. Seers were always only daughters. Earth never burdened a seer with siblings, as they matured too quickly and felt the emotions of those around them too keenly, to thrive in larger families. They needed a serene environment in which their gifts could grow without constraint.

She dreamily pulled a blade of grass from the sod to chew. Then, stroking No-tail one last time, she smiled to herself, content, climbed down and went to her bed in the loft.

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HO HO HOLIDAY E BOOK DISCOUNTS

Start your holiday shopping season with a click. Black Friday and Cyber Monday with great discounts. Happy Holidays!

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00814YWME The Rising (The Lost Children of Managrail) Book 1

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CHVJI0S Vanished (The Lost Children of Managrail) Book 2

Both books available for the Holidays at 99 cents

 

Honest reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.

Indie Authors-Where We Stand Today

I give credit to Amanda Hocking for being the spark that ignited the indie movement. Some of you may disagree, which is fine. If anyone has read her blog you know her beginning was simply work, luck, some business smarts, and not afraid to take a risk. In a manner of speaking she opened the door for the rest of us, and we have followed.

Along the way many changes happened in traditional publishing and the indie movement. Some have been good, and some well… you know the answer to that one. Amazon is growing in leaps and bounds, spreading its fingers and dipping them into many pots. Indies and self-published authors have gained respect. However, the astigmatism that we aren’t equal to traditionally published authors still remains upfront and personal in the eyes of many. We have gained a foothold and it is up to the serious to continue to deliver their best works possible. No one is sure where it will all end. I, for one, will keep trying to gain the respect of my readers and entertaining the idea of success.

And just what is success? To some it is fame, the big bucks, and to others it is the recognition that they have arrived by means of publication in any format. I am saddened when I see so much time being wasted on the finger-pointing scale. In any business there is upheaval and at times a step back to see where one can make things better. Writing is no different. After all it is a business and the writer is the brand, the end product. 2014 is likely to bring about changes that no one saw coming, and we’ll roll with the punches(sorry for the cliché). It is time to just sit down and continue to write and not worry about free books, the $.99 deal, the giveaways and the gimmicks. Yes, we need marketing tools at our disposal, but it is time we came up with a plan that brings us to the next level.

Three years ago there were 4 million writers in the USA alone looking for a publishing deal. I’m sure that number has probably doubled by now. Don’t go looking for the next big thing, no one knows what it is anyway until it smacks you in the face. Think Harry Potter, and Twilight. There was absolute no way of predicting either of these success stories. Write what you love, love what you write and I really believe success will follow. My mother used to tell me,” You can do anything , or be anything in this world that you want, I just can’t tell you how long it will take.”

 

Guest Author Ken La Salle

Each week I hope to share a guest post with you from an author. This will not be a Q & A, so the writer will have carte blanche.

I’d like to thank Ken La Salle for stopping by today. Ken, as each author, will have a standing page on my blog. This designated page will offer links to his sales pages, podcasts, upcoming signings and any other related matters. Check back often for updates and I anticipate my readers may find some wonderful work to add to their collections. So without further adieu…

ken-la-salle-website-icon2As a writer, I find myself doing these more than I thought I would, introducing myself to a new audience. Everyone wants it to be fresh; no one wants other people’s leftovers.

So, I thought I would introduce myself today by talking about what brought me to writing in the first place. You see, before I committed to being a writer I was, I had been, I had craved to become an actor.

And when I use the word “crave,” I ain’t kidding. I took every crappy part I could get at first and when some of that crappy part got cut I would fight for everything I could convince the director to leave in. Like every young actor, I counted my lines. I dreamed of the day when I would run a show, by which I mean when I would be on the stage at all times.

Now, here’s a secret. Ready? I can share this secret with you now because I’m no longer an actor. I couldn’t remain an actor because, and here’s the secret, I wasn’t that good. I say it’s a secret because I know plenty of actors who thought I was fairly good. A few people thought I had real talent and wondered why I left the stage. Not a lot. But a few.

You see the key to acting, what few people really acknowledge, is that real acting isn’t. The best acting is never acted. It’s real. And the best actors can make their moments on stage real or they can experience them as real, somehow. I wasn’t ever too good at that, really. Oh sure, I had my moments. For the most part, though, I never really surrendered to the moment.

I remained aloof to the moment, floating just above the moment, observing it, gauging it – and I would try to make all of my expectations about a scene fit just the way I wanted. The problem with this approach, of course, is that I never had control over the other actors on stage. Sure, I could persuade them now and again but, mostly, I would finish my shows feeling a twinge of disappointment. And sometimes that twinge was enough to snap my neck.

But that’s the wonderful thing about writing, isn’t it? Writers can take each moment apart and dissect it like an unfortunate frog. They can put things together in any order they wish until their frog is a transforming-meka-frog… or something.

Mind you, there’s a problem with that as well. And I bring this up because I’m beginning to understand that I am leaving that point in my career, the point where striving for control is revealed to be just as inauthentic as my mistakes on the stage.

True, writers can take apart every moment, dissect it, clean it, expunge it, chop, seal, and press it… but should they? It’s a question that has been haunting me of late.

Mind you, I don’t consider myself to be a slouch. Not at all. I have some work I know I can take a great deal of pride in. My trilogy of memoirs, for instance: A Grand CanyonClimbing Maya, and The Day We Said Goodbye. My novels, from Daughter of a One-Armed Man to Vampire Society to those books I am actively marketing today and even up into the books I am just finishing. I know I’ve represented myself well.

In addition to those books, there are also my books on following your dreams, collecting my essays from Recovering the Self. There’s my podcast,So Dream SomethingMy YouTube series: My Side, Radio de’Olde, and 5 Brief Minutes. I’ve seen my work released in ebook, audiobook, and paperback. I’ve seen my plays on stages around the country. And I see no end in sight.

And yet, I begin to feel as though I’ve been stopping myself from surrendering to the moment, from relishing in it, burying myself in it waist high. Because there are some similarities between acting and writing and one truth persists: There’s a magic in the moment. Dissecting is great but there is a magic in the moment.

And so, as I move forward, my goal has become to find outlets that put me in the moment, so that I might experience that magic with my readers. I have a few experiments lined up in the coming future that I hope will throw me into the moment and help me grow as an artist.

There are things I can do as a writer that I could never do as an actor. That’s why I walked away from acting and into writing, where I’ve committed myself. Some of these things are probably obvious to anyone who has heard a writer speak, things like making that connection with the reader, finding meaning, etc. etc. etc. But I’m talking about something very different.

One of the things I can do as a writer is to experience that moment, to reach out from this side of the page and maybe touch that side of the page, maybe touch the air above the page. That, you see, is the goal of being a writer. (This is aside from having a best-seller and making a million dollars, of course. Everyone knows that is the real goal of being a writer: Not starving and having a roof over our heads!) Our goal is not to fill a page, it is to leap from it.

And that, I suppose, is my introduction. I hope you take some time to look into my work and, if you do, I will consider myself a very lucky guy. You know, writers come about an actor a dozen – and if you do the conversion:

Actors = $.10/dozen

Writers = Actors/dozen

The numbers ain’t good. This is why I feel so very fortunate to have the chance to share my stories, my moments, with you.

All the best,

Ken La Salle

Visit Ken’s page on my blog for works, signings, updates and media.

My Fellow Authors Promo Page

Book Release— Union The Lost Children of Managrail

First, I’d like to thank everyone,and anyone who has read “The Rising ” and ” Vanished” from The Lost Children of Managrail series. Your support means everything to me. I had hoped to have “Union”  Book 3 released for the Holidays, but that isn’t to be. 
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