Very few know about the magical properties of troll teeth and those who do, seldom tell. Why I found myself late one night seeking a troll tooth is entirely another story unto itself. Suffice to say, it was required for a certain spell and no other talisman would do.
Trolls are notoriously troubled sleepers, but when they do slumber, they’re like boulders. There’s no moving them. Still, I tiptoed around this troll. No telling what might set him off. When he finally opened his mouth in a snory gasp for air, I saw the treasure I sought – rows of blackened ivory, peg-shaped teeth.
One only had to grasp and yank to extract them, so I’d been told, terribly rotted as they were. I gripped the smallest one I could find and pulled, but nothing happened. Nothing moved. The tooth wouldn’t budge. I cursed myself for needing the blasted thing in the first place. As I tugged, I became vaguely aware of a toady, amber eye, the size of a dinner plate, staring up at me and I froze.
“Claus? Is that you?” asked the troll, its voice unusually soft and kind.
“Yes, it’s me,” I answered, even though I had no idea who Claus was. Perhaps he was still sleeping? Dreaming of a friend?
“Are you asleep?” I asked.
“Yes, between a dream and awake. I must tell you something.” The troll’s fingers grazed my arm.
“What is it?”
“Promise me, you’ll save her.” An idea struck me.
“I’ll do it in exchange for a tooth.” The great eye blinked.
“Take this one.” And just like that, he plucked his own tooth and gave it to me. “Just remember, there’s a penalty for breaking a promise to a troll.”
“Yes?”
“Seven years my servant,” he chuckled, wide awake.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Saturday, December 31, 2011
My $0.02
I must be feeling opinionated today because I went on my Good Reads page and commented on most of my book list! I only meant to go on and review The Giver, which I finished last night. The choice of book seemed very appropos once I finished it, since it seems to me to be an illumination of what it means to be alive. I do recommend it to you.
I hope to read, review and write much more in 2012. It is my only resolution, I think. If you haven't been to Good Reads, it's a great site and I encourage you to friend me there. Oh, and all that crap you've been worrying about in the past year? Fugittaboutit!
Happy New Year!
I hope to read, review and write much more in 2012. It is my only resolution, I think. If you haven't been to Good Reads, it's a great site and I encourage you to friend me there. Oh, and all that crap you've been worrying about in the past year? Fugittaboutit!
Happy New Year!
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
The Tao of Han
My daughter Hannah is a shoulder surfer, constantly breathing down my neck when I’m on the internet doing anything, writing anything. Drives me crazy! But sometimes I realize she’s the angel on my shoulder waiting to help me, if I just listen.
Last summer, I was contemplating self-publishing a little book of mine that had languished long on my shelf at home. I’d been to writers’ conferences and heard agents, and probably some editors, going on and on about how they wouldn’t touch a book that had been self-published with a proverbial ten-foot pole. “Why on earth would you do that?!” they gesticulated violently. The horrors! It was social suicide for authors, to be sure.
So it was with no small amount of trepidation with which I approached self-publishing. In fact, I had convinced myself to try it, but with the caveat that I could use a pseudonym and no one would ever know it was me. I could protect my professional reputation, if I ever had one, by the use of this name. It was a wonderful name, stolen from a random news story – Fletcher Golden. Sounded so writerly, so smart, so golden. It was going to be perfect.
That’s when nine-year-old Han stepped in. She watched me typing this fictitious name on my own work and said, “Who’s that?” And I, thinking I was so smart, explained to her the idea of using a pseudonym to hide my real identity. Then Han, who is actually the smart one here, said “Why?” as in “Why would you hide who you really are and make people think someone else wrote your story?” Try as I might, I didn’t have a decent explanation, simply because there isn’t one. Shame? Fear? Embarrassment? I didn’t want to be any of those things, so I let it go. I gave in, gave up those worries and was true to myself, like Han knew I should. Thank you, sweetie, for helping me remember what's truly important. I love you.
Last summer, I was contemplating self-publishing a little book of mine that had languished long on my shelf at home. I’d been to writers’ conferences and heard agents, and probably some editors, going on and on about how they wouldn’t touch a book that had been self-published with a proverbial ten-foot pole. “Why on earth would you do that?!” they gesticulated violently. The horrors! It was social suicide for authors, to be sure.
So it was with no small amount of trepidation with which I approached self-publishing. In fact, I had convinced myself to try it, but with the caveat that I could use a pseudonym and no one would ever know it was me. I could protect my professional reputation, if I ever had one, by the use of this name. It was a wonderful name, stolen from a random news story – Fletcher Golden. Sounded so writerly, so smart, so golden. It was going to be perfect.
That’s when nine-year-old Han stepped in. She watched me typing this fictitious name on my own work and said, “Who’s that?” And I, thinking I was so smart, explained to her the idea of using a pseudonym to hide my real identity. Then Han, who is actually the smart one here, said “Why?” as in “Why would you hide who you really are and make people think someone else wrote your story?” Try as I might, I didn’t have a decent explanation, simply because there isn’t one. Shame? Fear? Embarrassment? I didn’t want to be any of those things, so I let it go. I gave in, gave up those worries and was true to myself, like Han knew I should. Thank you, sweetie, for helping me remember what's truly important. I love you.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Happy All Hallow's Eve to you!
If you've read Storyteller, then you know tonight is the night Lily makes it to the True World. Since epublishing the book in July, there's been more than 100 books downloaded, but only one review. I hope some of you may have taken a look and could find the time to leave a quick note on Smashwords or a Tweet on Twitter about it.
Exciting new developments, the sequel will be ready to upload soon. Check out the beautiful new cover on this blog. If the cliffhanger ending of Book I annoyed you, I hope to remedy it soon, so hang in there with me! This ride isn't over yet!
Happy Halloween!
Exciting new developments, the sequel will be ready to upload soon. Check out the beautiful new cover on this blog. If the cliffhanger ending of Book I annoyed you, I hope to remedy it soon, so hang in there with me! This ride isn't over yet!
Happy Halloween!
Friday, October 7, 2011
I know this much is true~
I’m a bad blogger. I know this. You may know this too, but you forgive me because you love me, right? I know I let laundry and dance lessons and work get in the way of my writing. These things are good and necessary and they have their place, but I also know my time in this world is limited and I have some things I just need to say. Well, a lot of things actually. They may not be important things, but they’re mine.
Recent events bring these lessons back to me with startling clarity. Sometimes I get lazy and I forget, but I never fail to be reminded in the most jarring ways. Unless you’re very young, I’m sure you have heard the reminders too. The universe is always knocking at the door, telling us, don’t wait. Never wait.
Don’t wait to write or paint or play or whatever it is you love. Don’t set those things aside for a rainy day. Do them now and enjoy every moment. Encourage others to do the same. That is the best way to show your love for this world and everyone in it.
My favorite book about writing is by Brenda Ueland "If you want to Write" written in 1938. What she wrote was true then and it’s still true now:
"The creative power and imagination is in everyone and so is the need to express it, i.e., to share it with others. But what happens to it? It is very tender and sensitive, and it is usually drummed out of people early in life by criticism (so called "helpful criticism" is often the worst kind)...This joyful, imaginative, impassioned energy dies out of us very young. Why? Because we do not see that it is great and important. Because we let dry obligation take its place. Because we don't respect it in ourselves and keep it alive by using it. And because we don't keep it alive in others by listening to them. For when you come to think of it, the only way to love a person is not, as the stereotyped Christian notion is, to coddle them and bring them soup when they are sick, but by listening to them and seeing and believing in the god, in the poet, in them. For by doing this, you keep the god and the poet alive and make it flourish."
So even though I’m a bad blogger, beset by my dry obligations, know that I believe in the god in you…this much is true.
Recent events bring these lessons back to me with startling clarity. Sometimes I get lazy and I forget, but I never fail to be reminded in the most jarring ways. Unless you’re very young, I’m sure you have heard the reminders too. The universe is always knocking at the door, telling us, don’t wait. Never wait.
Don’t wait to write or paint or play or whatever it is you love. Don’t set those things aside for a rainy day. Do them now and enjoy every moment. Encourage others to do the same. That is the best way to show your love for this world and everyone in it.
My favorite book about writing is by Brenda Ueland "If you want to Write" written in 1938. What she wrote was true then and it’s still true now:
"The creative power and imagination is in everyone and so is the need to express it, i.e., to share it with others. But what happens to it? It is very tender and sensitive, and it is usually drummed out of people early in life by criticism (so called "helpful criticism" is often the worst kind)...This joyful, imaginative, impassioned energy dies out of us very young. Why? Because we do not see that it is great and important. Because we let dry obligation take its place. Because we don't respect it in ourselves and keep it alive by using it. And because we don't keep it alive in others by listening to them. For when you come to think of it, the only way to love a person is not, as the stereotyped Christian notion is, to coddle them and bring them soup when they are sick, but by listening to them and seeing and believing in the god, in the poet, in them. For by doing this, you keep the god and the poet alive and make it flourish."
So even though I’m a bad blogger, beset by my dry obligations, know that I believe in the god in you…this much is true.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
9/11
Simple, quiet thoughts today, missing those I've never known.
I remember you.You live in my heart.
Always~
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