your portal to “The Heir and the Herald” tetralogy
Apparently, it takes a display-table’s worth of material just to pitch my novel at a writer’s conference. Behold my Realm Makers signature collection! Many trees died to bring you this persuasive array.
Clockwise, from top left: an in-world poem, laminated; my magic system, laminated; a map of Arlam, laminated; the first three chapters of A Sea Sought in Song; one-sheets; business cards.
P.S. Lamination is super cheap at Office Depot. Didja know?
… it’s just my business cards, the first batch of which arrived by mail today! In two weeks, I’ll be passing them out at the Realm Makers writer’s conference. Kudos to moo.com for not cutting any corners except the ones I asked them to round. These look and feel like artwork. I figured that as long as I was purchasing little paper rectangles to distribute, I might as well fork over a little extra to ensure they’d stand out from the rest of the pile. Fortunately, as of last month, I had a bunch of art just lying around waiting to get repurposed.
The back of the card features my passable depiction of The Man With The Radiant Hand (a narratively-significant icon from the world of Arlam) along with the opening stanza of the prophecy which lends its name to my entire Seed of Glory Sown in Sorrow series. It’s my hope these elements will intrigue, rather than confuse, the viewer.
The front of the card features my name, relevant occupation, website, and contact info, all integrated, place-name-style, into a portion of my map of Arlam. I’m quite happy with how this turned out. Initially I tried all sorts of approaches for the front design—dragons framing the border, etc.—but it all ended up looking too busy. This solution was cohesive, elegant, and unique.
To delve further into the cartography of Arlam, visit my website’s map-room.
To further explore A Sea Sought in Song, visit its online home. There you can familiarize yourself with the cast, settings, and magic system, and even read the first four chapters.
I just finished an unplanned—and hopefully final—editorial pass on A Sea Sought in Song. The extent to which I can still make revisions even after niggling over every last sentence for the past decade never ceases to amaze me. But at least the process is getting more efficient. In contrast to my last pass, which comprised months’ worth of rewriting, this one progressed swiftly. Perhaps the momentum was due to time’s emotional distancing, perhaps to a rereading speed that facilitated standardization, or perhaps to the deeper perspective bestowed by Book Two’s 44,000 words. Whatever the impetus, the result was that the manuscript’s word count ended up increasing by a thousand. A Sea Sought in Song now clocks in at a majestic 190,000 words, which means it’s still shorter than the first fantasy novels published by Brandon Sanderson, Tad Williams, and Patrick Rothfuss.
Revision, for me, usually entails lengthening the manuscript. My initial drafts tend to be light on interiority. I was trained to write screenplays, which cannot rely on the thoughts of characters. Film is a visual medium, and the narratives it presents to our eye must be depicted visually. “Show don’t tell,” etc. It’s the rare film indeed that can get away with incessant voiceover narration. So my description—at least initially—tends to be heavy on the physical and light on the psychological. I’ll tell you what a character’s eyebrow does, but won’t bother spelling out the thought that’s found expression on his or her face. This works to a certain degree, but it isn’t writing to the strength of the medium. So when I go back through a passage, I usually end up fleshing out the lives of my character’s minds.
I enjoy this process. It’s an incremental sidling-up that draws me ever closer to the core of my characters’ being. In a way, it feels like the development of real-life relationships.
Exactly one year ago today, I began work on Book Two.
Today, Book Two surpassed 40,000 words.
If this trend continues, I should complete Book Two within the next four years. Which will mark a 100% improvement over the decade it took me to complete A Sea Sought in Song.
Of course, the last time around, my progress tracked an exponential curve as my ease with the material snowballed. So theoretically, I should keep getting faster and faster. However, factoring in likely dampeners such as an increasing number of offspring, I figure it’s safe to predict a more linear rate going forward.
My airline tickets are in the bag. Next month will find me hobnobbing in St. Louis at the Realm Makers writer’s conference. I’ve scheduled official pitch meetings with two agents, and aim to pique the interest of as many Industry Insiders as possible. But regardless of whether A Sea Sought in Song impresses, it’ll be fun to make the corporeal acquaintance of fellow writers with whom I’ve only spoken online.
Arlam Online 