The surprisingly true tale of how my picture almost wound up in a castle in Wales. Yep. You heard that right. I’m famous. Or almost was. While I was in the hospital, I received quite an interesting email. Came all the way from Wales. Apparently, a certain picture I took a while back of one of my characters made quite the circuit of the web, until the man who contacted me stumbled upon it while scouting for images to represent a princess of Wales from the twelfth century, Gwenllian ferch Gruffydd. So, he contacted me to verify that the image was mine and request my permission to use it in an introductory panel in a castle in Wales. 
(The photo in question) My first thought: The costume isn’t historically accurate! How could they use it? My second thought: If they don’t care, I don’t! Sadly, being woefully ignorant of Welsh history, I had never before heard of Gwenllian ferch Gruffydd. So I decided to do a little bit of research and was completely fascinated by what I discovered—hooray for Wikipedia! Gwenllian lived from 1097-1136, during one of the many conflicts between the Welsh and the Normans. She married Gruffydd ap Rhys, a prince of Wales, and joined him in leading daring raids against the Normans. Matters came to a head while Gruffydd was away on an alliance forming mission, so Gwenllian mustered the army and marched into battle herself. Only to be defeated near Kidwelly Castle and beheaded by her enemies. A tragic end to the tale. But her example was an inspiration to the Welsh in their struggle against the Normans, and her name became a common battle cry throughout the conflict. Fascinating, isn’t it? Check out Wikipedia’s article on Gwenllian ferch Gruffydd to find out more! Research completed, I weight the pros and cons. I was amazed at the similarities between Gwenllian and the character in my novel that I had been depicting. Not only that, but her name is practically the same as mine! And who could say no to having their picture in a castle in Wales? Pros won. Cons lost. So I said yes. And immediately began planning ways to scrimp and save so I could eventually take a trip to Wales to visit the castle and research Gwenllian and walk the battlefield where she fought and died. Only to get another email a few days later that regretfully informed me that they had run the image past a historian who rejected the photograph on the basis that the costume wasn’t historically accurate. Ah well. Should have listened to my first thought. So there you have it. The fascinating tale of how my picture almost wound up inside a castle in Wales … and the even more fascinating tale of a princess of Wales who fought alongside her husband for the defense of her people. I still intend to find out more about Gwenllian. Amazing character inspiration right there!
Fantasy Advertisements
I really wanted to come up with some sort of a witty title for this post, but in that regard wit unfortunately proved elusive. Still, there is something to be said for being straight to the point. Something of a rarity for me … but I digress. Writing that post about dragons—Fire Inside the Mountain—a few weeks back set me to thinking, especially once I discovered that Craigslist listing for a dragon slayer. Brilliant, wasn’t it? I couldn’t help imagining some of the crazy things you would see listed if internet ads existed in any of the fantasy realms. So I thought I would explore some of the options … 
Just smells of intrigue doesn’t it? I rather suspect a situation similar to that in The Ordinary Princess, where the King and Queen were so desperate to marry off their daughter, they actually discussed hiring a dragon to take her captive in the hopes that some dashing young prince would come rushing to the rescue and be forced to marry her! How about this one? 
Pretty sure I would have answered that advertisement. Not sure what that says about me though … 
Any educated guesses as to which fairy tale character might have placed this services advertisement? I guarantee you won’t want to hire this fellow. Turns out a “guarantee of future trade” is generally not such a good deal. We’re barely scraping the tip of the iceberg here! What are some fun fantasy/fairy tale advertisements you can think of?
Novel Withdrawal
The verdict is in. For the past month, I’ve been suffering from an acute case of novel withdrawal. It’s a nasty business. Trust me. 
When I reached the last sentence on the last page, shut the book, and set it on my shelf, I knew it was going to be rough. I’d just spent the last week immersing myself in the lives of some very beloved characters in some very trying circumstances. Twelve hundred pages of it. And it was over. With a cliffhanger ending too. Sometimes I really wish I could read just a tad slower and really savor the story, instead of simply devouring it. But this novel was just so good. I couldn’t help myself. And so I’ve spent the past month dutifully trying to start other novels … only to scarce get past the first page before setting them back on my to-read shelf, sadly disappointed. Oh, there’s nothing wrong with them. It’s not because they’re bad novels with hole-ridden plot lines, poorly written prose, or cartoon characters. They’re just not the story I want to read right now. Yep. Novel withdrawal. Reckon I’ve got it pretty bad. And the worst of it is … the next book in the series won’t be available for quite a while. *sigh* Reader problems. Have you ever suffered through a bad case of novel withdrawal? (Please tell me I’m not the only one who goes through this …) What book were you reading and how long was it before you felt like picking up another book?
Fire Inside the Mountain—Dragon Awareness Day
A Special Bulletin from the Warriors-in-Hero-Training School of the Round Table, issued via carrier tern from the desk of renowned Headmaster Sir Galgadin.
It has come to my knowledge that many among the so-called “learned” in the modern world have a dangerous tendency to scoff at “legends” of fire-breathing beasts. To this, I have but one thing to say: “Never laugh at live dragons.”
J.R.R Tolkien To which of course they would reply, “But there is no such thing as live dragons.” After which, they would burst into another fit of mocking laughter … right before perishing in a fiery blast. I do not intend to attempt changing mainstream views on dragons in general. Short of shoving a few dozen world-acclaimed so-called scholars into the dragon’s den, I cannot think of any way to convince them that dragons do in fact exist and have a sweet tooth for barbeque. (I hear slow smoked scholar is considered quite the delicacy in dragondom.) Instead, I shall let the wise speak for me. Brilliant scholars have been writing about dragons for quite a bit longer than my pen has been scratching a page. Perhaps their words—and not mine—shall help awaken this sleeping world to the knowledge of the peril it lives in. After all … “ … it is one thing to read about dragons and another to meet them.”
Ursula K. Le Guin, A Wizard of Earthsea Among the many scoffers, there are also many who think dragons are the easily-befuddled, easily-slain creatures of bedtime lore. Nothing could be further from the truth. They are cunning, powerful, devious, masters of deceit and treachery, and for all the fire burning within their chests, they are utterly cold hearted. “A dragon should never be engaged in conversation as they are inveterate liars and tricksters, though if you’re actually talking to a dragon, you’re pretty much toast anyway.”
John Stephens, The Fire Chronicle Toast? Not sure that’s quite a strong enough a word for it. Think barbeque. Seared steak. Shishkabob. And dragons unfortunately aren’t the sort of things you can ignore either. If one moves in nearby, you can expect death and destruction to follow in its wake, as notable dragon-scholar J.R.R Tolkien noted in The Hobbit. “It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him.”
J.R.R. Tolkien So just what should one do if a dragon moves in nearby? There are many varying suggestions: Double check your life insurance policy … Head for a top secret bunker in the hills … Offer your livestock as sacrifices to appease the fiery beast … Or if all else fails, you can always send for a dragon slayer. This ad was discovered posted on craigslist. 
Any takers? In general, it is wise to remember that dragons are fearsome beasts … proud … arrogant … and with good reason. “My armor is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death!”
“Smaug” J.R.R Tolkien, The Hobbit And yet even the fiercest dragons have a weak spot. “I have always understood,” said Bilbo in a frightened squeak, “that dragons were softer underneath, especially in the region of the—er—chest; but doubtless one so fortified has thought of that.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit Find the dragon’s weak spot and strike hard, my friend, lest you and your family be counted among the growing number of deaths attributed to dragon-related accidents every year. I should like to leave you with one final piece of dragonish wisdom. If at all possible … “Meddle not in the affairs of dragons for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.”
Anonymous Sir Galgadin
Signing off Do you have a favorite dragon-ish quote? Share it in the comments!
Brothers, Side by Side
Born on the plains, a farmer’s sons
and brothers the same, raised on promises…
we’d stay that way.
As boys we believed, summers at the sea
we were free to become men of good will…
side by side. “By Your Side” House of Heroes Sunset falls over the battlefield, blood red streaking the sky in mimicry of the bloodstained, flame-ridden plain below. And as the shades of night descend, two armored figures meet amidst the dead and the dying, cast battered swords from weary hands, and grip one another’s shoulders. It is done. The battle is won. And they are both still alive. The halls of unforgettable story telling are filled with epic battles, hard won fights, and brother tales. Whether the main players are actually brothers, or simply brothers-at-heart, there’s just something about a good brother story that grips us by the heart and won’t let us go. Just off the top of my head, I can list a good half dozen tremendous brother pairs from novels, films, history:
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Merlin and Arthur, BBC’s Merlin TV series
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David and Jonathan, the Bible
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Dean and Sam Winchester, Supernatural TV series
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Sherlock and Watson, many awesome interpretations over the years
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Thor and Loki, Marvel-verse
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Legolas and Gimli, The Lord of the Rings
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Steve Rogers and Bucky, Captain America
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Fred and George Weasley, the Harry Potter series
I could keep going for at least another ten minutes. Daresay I could pull another half dozen out of The Lord of the Rings alone. One of my favorite books, Enemy Brothers, is a tremendous brother tale set in Great Britain during WWII. (Actually, what makes it even more spectacular is the author penned the novel before the end of WWII was anywhere in sight! Knowing that just makes every awesome heart-wrenching scene in the book that much more incredible. If you haven’t read it … you should.) I rediscovered my love for brother tales recently while writing a short story, Shattered Ice. Despite its shortness—clocks in right around 1,000 words (an earth-shattering feat for me)—I fell in love with Ren and Tal and would be thrilled to explore their story more at some point in the future. I suppose I just love sibling tales in general. The bond between siblings, the complexities of their relationships, and the protectiveness they feel for one another are near and dear to my heart. So I find brother tales, brother-sister tales, and even sister tales especially enjoyable. Somehow though, sister tales rarely possess the same power that brother tales do. I won’t say a sister tale can’t be done well—I’ll admit to enjoying Disney’s Frozen as much as the next person—but somehow there never seems to be the same raw depth, heart, and strength to the story. So what is it about a good brother story that strikes so deep? I pondered this question over the past few days, racking my brain for the answer. To be honest, I don’t know. But I can speculate. I wonder if it in part has to do with the fact that if there’s one person you know—or think you know—better than yourself growing up, it’s your sibling. The little quirks and idiosyncrasies you’d let slide in others, somehow seem so much bigger in the person you’ve known since you—or they—were born. You know their faults … and they know yours too. And sometimes, they tell you the painful truth. You can pretend to all the world … but a sibling? Well, they’ll see right through your thickest mask. But despite the conflict that occasionally sparks when y’all rub crossways, you still manage to love one another. Even if you show it in strange ways at times. Somehow, I think good brother tales seem to capture this bond in a deep, heartfelt, “I’d die for you” kind of way, without coming across as cheesy or contrived. Even when the brothers are not brothers by blood. Sure, it’s a bit of a tall order. But I can think of dozens of tales and brother pairs that fit the bill. And I can’t wait to discover some more. What do you think? What are your favorite brother tales and sibling pairs? Do you have a favorite brothers’ moment?
I am an artist
Wordcrafting has always been my chosen course of study. From a young age, I would stay up late into the night carving fantasy worlds from the bedrock of imagination and transforming them with each stroke of the keypad into words on a computer screen. There are few things more satisfying that untangling the knotted mass of plot threads in your head and slowly unraveling them on the page in just the right order . . . so when you look back, you can see the many colored strands drawing you to the glorious resolution on the final page. I love the written word. And yet, although nothing could ever make me wish myself free of the call of the pen, there are times when I’m heartily—woefully—jealous of a completely different talent. I wish I was an artist. There are so many incredibly talented people out there who can take the images in their heads and faithfully reproduce them in magnificent explosions of color and ink. Beautiful. Orderly. Breathtaking. My own attempts frequently resemble explosions of a far less pleasing sort.
I am in awe of the artist’s ability. It’s a talent all its own. Oh I can get by with a sketch pad and pencil … and a horde of erasers at my beck and call. Whenever the mood takes me, I’ll pluck out my old sketchpad and work to keep my hand and eye in “practice.” Mainly characters or scenes that I’m working on. This past week, in a fit of mad courage, I started experimenting with watercolors. And amidst the wild mass of colors and scattered brushes and splattered paint, I realized at last … That I am an artist. Oh I may not possess the skill with a paint and brush that some do … nor the ability to capture life on a pad with a few strokes of a pen. Nor can I compose melodies or lyrics that will set your heart on fire and your soul yearning for what is to come. I am an artist of a different sort. Words are my paint and my song. As a writer, I etch a little piece of my heart into every page. I strive to capture both beauty and truth, reality and hope in print. 
Books are so much more than rigid lines of black and white ink marching endlessly across the pages. They are things of wondrous color and beauty. The wildest dreams of a wild imagination … grounded in reality.
Whenever I think of the writing process, I cannot help recalling this scene from William Goldman’s The Princess Bride about artistry at work:
Domingo slept only when he dropped from exhaustion. He ate only when Inigo forced him to. He studied, fretted, complained. He never should have taken the job; it was impossible.
The next day he would be flying; he never should have taken the job; it was to simple to be worth his labors.
Joy to despair, joy to despair, day to day, hour to hour …
One night Inigo woke to find his father seated. Staring. Calm. Inigo followed the stare. The six fingered sword was done. Even in the hut’s darkness, it glistened.
“At last,” Domingo whispered. He could not take his eyes from the glory of the sword. “After a liftetime. Inigo. Inigo. I am an artist.”
I may not have reached the level of artistry Domingo reached when he created the six fingered sword. But if nothing else, I am an artist in the making, and I can be content with that. How about you? Do consider yourself an artist, whether you paint with words or a brush, or create music with lyrics or instrument?
