“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
John Ronald Reuel Tolkien was born on January 3, 1892. I won’t write some kind of biography here. I won’t write about how his work influenced modern fantasy and the writing world. There are articles, online communities, films, and books upon books dedicated to those topics.
I will, however, share a few images of his original artwork. He was a brilliant artist, and these are a few of my favorite pieces that I’ve seen.
Starting when I was very little, my dad, a huge Tolkien fan, read me The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings trilogy from start to finish several times. I don’t remember the times he read them to me as a baby when I wouldn’t sleep. I do remember him reading me a chapter at a time before bed when I was a little older, and him explaining everything from what the long words meant to why people do evil things and why others must stand against them even when it seems futile.
I do remember the magic of feeling like there was a whole, fully realized universe that I could catch glimpses of, or even visit, through the pages.
Centuries after the eradication of vampires and the death of their Queen in the Great Fire of London in 1666, the vampire population now numbers in only the hundreds. A few of the remaining survivors have regrouped and formed a High Council to unite their numbers. Now a new threat has arrived: modern day military is not only tracking members of the council, they are attempting to create their own vampire soldiers. Enter Olivia Irons. Ex Black Ops, doing her best to live a normal civilian life, but it never feels right. No family, no friends, trouble always close. When the Sanguinarian Council offers her the chance of a lifetime, the biggest risk of all seems like the only path left to choose. How will…
I love the way men and women dressed in the forties, fifties, and the early sixties. Everyone was gorgeous back then. Look at a picture of your mother or your grandmother from those days and try to find a flaw. Her hair will be perfectly curled and shaped. Her makeup and jewelry will be just so. Her dresses will be perfectly tailored to fit her body, because the whole concept of buying mass-produced clothing off a discount store rack was still pretty much unheard of back then, and she probably made that dress herself because it was cheaper. And the men, so crisp in their suits, their features and closely cropped haircuts set off just so by their fedoras. Read more…via Trench Coats, Pretty Dames, and Video Games.
One year ago, Patrick C. Greene released Progeny, a shivery, nail biting tale that keeps readers on the edge of their seats with their doors locked and their blinds shut.
As many of you know I live in Colorado. Which means I’ve heard plenty of tales about Bigfoot. Or Sasquatch, or Harry, or whatever you’d like to call the towering half-man, half ape creature. Yet, before reading Progeny, I was never truly scared of the mythical being.
Now, I am.
“Another wild scream assailed them, urging them on even faster till muscles and lungs burned, fueled only by terror.”
“Owen Sterling is a reclusive author living in a secluded house deep in the woods. When he welcomes his son Chuck for a summer visit, the eleven-year-old suspects something is not right at his father’s home. His worries mount when he witnesses a confrontation between his…
I came across a helpful link on Twitter this morning from Writer’s Digest and wanted to share it with you. I’m always, always, always looking for tips and advice from insiders of the industry to improve my manuscript and better its chances of getting published in the future.
…while it may not be possible to pinpoint what exactly makes for a great manuscript or submission, it’s pretty easy to identify some of the avoidable mistakes that can virtually guarantee your project will get relegated to the circular file…
I’m always looking for great opportunities to stretch my creative wings, and today a fellow writer sent me a link for the Flash Fiction Challenge 2013. This “is a competition that challenges writers around the world to create short stories (1,000 words max.) based on genre, location, and object assignments.”
I’m thinking about entering. How about you? Click here for details!
Bill Travers looked with bitter eyes at his reflection. Since puberty, that time when humans learn to care about such things, Bill had been painfully aware that he was ugly.
His oft-inspected reflection offered no differing opinion, ever. Even in the soft light of the lamp on the bathroom counter, there was little reason for hope.
His face, like his physique, was pear shaped, with jowls that drooped around his neck. His brow was thick and pronounced, hooding his beady, unremarkable eyes and forming a trifurcated, bulgy wrinkle over the bridge of his flat nose. His short, thick neck dropped straight to narrow shoulders. His thick-jointed legs appeared too short for his oval torso. Now that he was hitting his mid-thirties, a potbelly was starting to take shape, and his dark brown and oily…