A collection of creativity
Here’s to hope like the sunrise.
Here’s to serenity like the moon.
Here’s to boldness like a lioness.
Here’s to community like a church.
Here’s to being clothed like the flowers
And fed like the sparrows.
Here’s to vigilance like a knight
To loyalty like a furry friend.
Here’s to gentleness like a hummingbird.
Here’s to peace like the lapping shore.
Here’s to a life of fullness and faith. To finding purpose and making a difference.
Here’s to life together.
Shadows flicker on stone walls as the candles reach their limits. A grand hall is quiet. The shuffling footsteps that usually fill it were somewhere tucked away in slumber. I sit on the edge of one of the many tables in the hall. I can’t keep my legs still and let them swing in and out from under the table. My hands stay braced on its rough wooden edges as I stare at the floor. It feels like the elevated seat at the end of the hall is casting judgmental eyes on me.
Quiet footsteps approach and I finally look up. A young man, my main character. Through the dim light, I can make out a small smile on his face. “It’s been a while,” he says. “I should ask how you’ve been?”
I shrug and nod, then shake my head and nod again. A terrible response, but I don’t know what to say. “What about you?”
His answer is very similar to mine, but with more shrugging. He motions to the table and I scoot over so he can sit beside me. “This new edit you’re doing.” He gives me a side-long glance. “I’m not so sure about it.”
I huff. “Yeah, me neither. What are your thoughts?”
His shoulders shrug again and he picks at dirt on his trousers. “It’s not very flattering. Do you think people would actually like it? Or relate to it?”
I shrug. “It’s different. I don’t read much, but I don’t know of any books with characters that do it. As for relating…” I trail off and do another awkward shrugging, head bobbing, shaking head bit. I catch a frown on his face and sigh. “Look.” I lift one arm and press it against his. White lines and dark patches scale up and down our arms. I take my other hand and match a dark patch on my skin up against a matching one on his wrist. It was something he did to himself several months back when he was trying not to cry. “I don’t know if anyone can relate to this–I certainly don’t know anyone–but I relate to this. I’m sorry. You got this because of me.”
It’s hard to read his expression in the dim light. I hold my arms up as long as he wants to look at them. When he pulls his arm away, I go back to bracing the table. I cross my ankles and stiffly wait for him to say something. It feels like forever before he finally speaks.
“I guess it isn’t so bad.” He scratches at one of the scars on his arm. “Does it ever go away?”
I blow air out my lips. Scars can fade, but that wasn’t what he was asking. “Yes and no, I guess. Some seasons are better than others. Depends on stress level?” I look at him and give a crooked smile. “And boredom too, I suppose.” He seemed to accept my answer as he bobbed his head and folded his hands in his lap.
“Do you think the beginning is good?”
His question doesn’t surprise me, but I dread it all the same. I know exactly what he means. “I don’t know,” I admit quietly. “It’s different. It’s easily questioned, but things shouldn’t go to plan.” I glance at him. I don’t need to defend myself to him, but I spout it into the universe anyway. “People become more of themselves when they realize where they’re supposed to be, but not everyone knows where they belong. You didn’t.”
He doesn’t say anything, so I keep going.
“Then, there’s times you think you know what you’re supposed to be in life. Only to find out you were wrong.” I look down at my hand, picking at the yellow fluid on a scrape near my thumb. “I thought I was supposed to be an animal doctor, but that didn’t happen and I like what I do now a lot better.” I pinch the scrape and watch as more fluid oozes into it. “I thought I was supposed to be an author too.”
We trail into silence. I can’t look at him. Can’t look up at the beautiful hall cast in night’s shadows. He nudges me and his tone falls quiet. “You’re still an author.”
I try to give him a grateful smile. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He laughs and the hall echoes with it. “And you think I do?” A turn of his head and I know he’s looking at the elevated seat at the end of the hall. “We all make choices.” He looks back at me. “That’s the heart of it, isn’t it? The choices we make. Choose to act. Choose to be idle. Choose to say something. Choose to stay quiet.”
I speak up before he can say more. “Choose Light.” When I look him dead in the eye, he falters and looks away. “Choose Dark.”
A deep breath lifts his chest and he bobs his head. “Yeah,” he says stiffly and I know he’s dreading a moment towards the end of the book. I know he’s afraid of how I’ll edit it this time.
I nudge him. “You’re right.” I wipe the scratch by my thumb then rest my hands in my lap. When I lean my shoulder against his, I feel him lean back. “So…how about…I keep on choosing to believe–even on the hard days, and you keep on holding out.” I try to catch his eye and he only offers a side-long look. “I do think the beginning is good.” His eyebrow twitches and I know I caught his interest. I start smiling and I can’t stop.” I’m starting to think the rest of the book doesn’t measure up with it though.”
The biggest groan I’ve ever heard from him escapes his lips. He pulls away from me with a big roll of his eyes. “Well,” he says smartly. “That’s just great.”
“Exactly.” I give him a shoulder shove then take a deep breath and lie back against the top of the table. Through one of the hall’s stained glass windows, I can see the full moon shining through. “It’s gonna be great, because that’s what we’ll choose.”
It’s wild to me to think that two weeks from now I’ll be at the Realm Makers Writing Conference and Expo. Just two weeks. I should feel excited, but nerves are getting in the way.
In exactly two weeks from today, I’ll be pitching my novel again to editors and publishers. I’m still in the editing phases of my latest draft, but most publishers are willing to wait as long as it takes if they like an idea. I try to take deep breaths.
I remember last year when I went to Realm Makers, I got my first two full manuscript requests out of the four publishers I pitched to. I remember praying “Lord, I won’t be able to take anymore rejections if these don’t pan out.” I’ve been avoiding the topic, but they didn’t pan out. All four publishers rejected me. I guess I lied, because I took all four rejections and I’m setting myself up for more by going back to pitch again.
Hopefully, this time will be better. I do feel I’m making improvements on my novel with this latest draft. If anything, I’m trying to focus on the classes and the expo that Realm Makers will offer. How can I learn more about the industry? How can I become a better writer?
One thing I really hope for is the connections. Meeting with other writers and hopefully building friendships. Realm Makers is a collection of Christian creatives who love fantasy, sci-fi, D&D, games, and more. I remember feeling like I found my people last year.
So, in a sense, with all these geeks together, anything can happen. I’m looking forward to the adventure.
I recently finished my audiobook of Bear Knight by James R. Hannibal. It’s the second book in the Lightraider series. I really enjoyed the first novel Wolf Soldier, and like a true sequel, Bear Knight sets up the trilogy. I’ve already started the third book, Lion Warrior.
When I sit down and think about Bear Knight, I realize I didn’t like it as much as the first novel in the series. It was still good. There was a lot of action, there were lessons in place, and scenes that got your mind pondering. The author introduces a different side of the setting and brings in the ingenuity of steampunk with the tinkerers in the story. The world is expanded upon and in my opinion, its a beautiful one. There’s also several talking bears and that’s a plus in my book.
One of the themes in the story is how the characters are trying to find their place in their order. Are they Navigators? Tinkerers? Members of the Vanguard or Rangers? You get to see what some of the characters are hoping for and then find out if they’re disappointed come the end of the book. One of the characters struggles to find her place. She knows where she wants to be, but to get there, she has to surpass the other trials as well and it’s a struggle. I feel a lot of us can relate to the pressure she feels to not fall behind the rest of her class. I found myself rooting for her.
I would recommend reading Bear Knight after Wolf Soldier. The only times I can recall that I didn’t care for the story were the times that romance was hinted, but I’ve never been one for romance in a story. Especially a story where war in the rise and the characters can’t afford to be distracted by crushes and infatuations.
If I get my hands on a physical copy of the Lightraider series, I will probably review how James R. Hannibal writes his fight scenes. There are a lot and yet, they’re easy to follow. Fight scenes are something I struggle with in writing, so I feel it would be good to study how James R. Hannibal fits them together.
If you liked reading Wolf Soldier, it’s worth it to continue on to Bear Knight.
I mean, who doesn’t like talking bears?
I’m not good at dealing with people
I don’t always say the right thing
My intentions easily get misread
And I wind up feeling a sting
It’s exhausting, dealing with people
Especially if you’re a people pleaser
You try to make everyone happy
And you just feel even weaker
You lend an ear or a helping hand
Try to help all strife disappear
You do your best to understand
How to make everyone’s life easier
The problem with people pleasers
Is they often forget themselves
They’re so busy fretting over others
They can bring harm upon their self
There’s many reasons for the pleasers
They want to be liked.
They want to be loved.
Maybe they’re a type of believer
That thinks they’ll please enough to be hugged?
So be kind to these poor pleasers
And just be pleasant to be around
We all need life to be easier
For together we stand our ground
Sunlight
Starlight
I’m waiting for twilight
The sun sets
And night’s on a whim
I’m waiting for you
To know where you’ve been
A hint on the breeze
A note on the wind
I have to believe
We’ll have a chance to begin
A royal display
As the sky burns away
A violet hue with hints of gray
When twilight is around
The sun is fully down
A beautiful view
But it’s still lacking you
Sunlight
To starlight
I was waiting for twilight
But I’m still alone tonight
Rejections can be hard. Maybe you’re going for a dream job, looking for love, or trying to get approval for your work. You work hard. You think you have a shot and when rejection comes, it can blindside you and dark thoughts start to creep in.
“You’re not good enough. You’ll never amount to anything.”
“Your hard work is for naught. You’ve been wasting your time.”
“No one is ever going to like your work, love you, or accept you.”
But when that fire is there. It’s there for a reason. The future is dark–no one knows what will happen–today is where the light shines. So, what can you do for your dream today?
This morning, I heard something on the radio that drew a tears from my eyes: “Rejection is Redirection.” Basically saying: your dream may have gotten rejected, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something better down the road. There’s a plan, you just can’t see it.
I’m going to try to hold on to this phrase. Someday, I want to publish my book. I hope to write an awesome fantasy series and share it with the world.
And, so far, I’ve been rejected over 100 times.
Granted, when I started querying I didn’t know what I was doing. I was shooting in the dark without proper knowledge on how to query. When the rejections started pouring in, I learned that my novel wasn’t at the place I thought it was. I learned it again and again and again. So, in a way, a lot of these rejections turned me in the right direction for improvements for my novel. The publishers and agents I’ve been querying likely aren’t the ones in the plan for me. I just haven’t found the right one yet and it’s likely I need these rejections to help me improve my novel before I find that right publisher.
So, when you get rejected, take your time to grieve, but then try to look for the reason. Look for the redirection that will lead you to greater things down the road.
I should work on my writing
–I’m going to play with the cat.
I should finish that chapter
–I need to put those dishes away.
I should devise a new description for that forest city
–I started scrolling social after looking something up.
Maybe, at least, write a webpost
–I don’t think I put the laundry away.
I should write. That’s all there is to it.
–Oh, that new movie is out on stream.
Finally, a moment at the computer
–And yet, I’m still playing with the cat.
Where would I go if I could go across seas? I’d be in search of castle on a wide open plain. I’d walk the halls of kings and queens and climb the towers of royalty. I’d wonder what it’d be like to sit on their thrones. But then, I’d survey the ramparts and marvel at the drawbridge. I’d place my steps in the strides of soldiers and knights that defended with their lives. I’d let my mind tell it’s stories. A stable boy with a dream. A maiden with a warrior’s heart. I’d look to the bright sky and imagine the siege of a dragon. Finally, I’d stand atop the castle walls and look out across the plains. When I close my eyes, I’d imagine my kingdom, my country, where my feet can never tread. If only for that moment, high on castle walls, it would be real.
Back in the real world, if I could cross the seas, I’d go to Namibia. The zookeeper in me dreams to see the efforts of the Cheetah Conservation Fund (CCF). See how they save a species by saving a people. Education and programs that benefit all. The world needs the cheetah and the CCF are they champions. Raising dogs to guard livestock, creating jobs to whack down thorny overgrowth encroaching the land, and creating bushblock for fuel. Then, reaching out to stop the illegal wildlife trade. Saving cubs stolen from their mothers. If I could cross the seas, I’d go to Namibia and learn how to do my part to help save the real world.
The day this was written is not the day it was posted, but when I read this prompt, a specific thing came to my mind. Notable, by Oxford definition, is “worthy of attention or notice; remarkable.” I even pulled out my physical, thick thesaurus just to see what notable compares to. You’ll find outstanding, special, memorable, significant, momentous, and meaningful all next to that word.
So, I would say notable is a pretty big deal.
One would think a birth, a death, a special event, a catastrophe–all those things would be notable. Something that couldn’t be left out if you were telling a story. All those plot points are notable. Reading this definition makes my notable thing seem unworthy, and yet, it was the first thing I thought of.
I was working on my manuscript, going through a chapter at a time and hopefully getting this draft done by my conference next month. It’s been tough going through this latest revision. That haunt shows up in the back of the mind that I’m wasting my time. This revision isn’t going to make it any better. Why do I even bother? All those dark whispering questions that interrupt my writing. And yet, the chapter I was going through today (the day I’m actually writing this and not the day I’m posting it). I barely made a change. I was reading through it and when I got to the end, I actually smiled. I like this chapter. I feel its well written and intense. The pace stays up and you have a lot of action. I actually enjoyed it.
That’s the notable thing that happened. Going through my story and finding a moment where I enjoyed it again and I wasn’t weighed down by the doubts or the “it has to be perfect” anxiety.
That’s something I hope for all writers. Enjoy your story. Don’t stress about it being perfect, enjoy that it’s you.
nikki diekemper