Since I don’t really have anything interesting to say today, I thought I would start introducing you to some of the people I have linked in the sidebar. These will be random introductions generated by my super secret name picker system.
First up is Lisa Norman.
Please do read the Squawk Sheets and watch Woman Driver and Flight Attendants. The pilots only thing has a glitch and was looping madly. Perhaps it knew I wasn’t a pilot and was chastising me. Also, please read the Attendants posts at the bottom of her site. Funny stuff.
I met Lisa at Books and Writers, as I have many of my writing friends. She has a couple of projects going, but I am partial to Dominion of Darkness. If I can get permission from her, I will post a snippet later.
Ah, permission granted.
Written by Lisa Norman
© 2008 Lisa Norman, all rights reserved.
Nian climbed the mountain in the pre-dawn cold, and cursed the shadows for choosing to bury the girl in such a remote site. He’d come often as a young man, just to look at her and dream of her waking, but now he was old — too old to be chasing after maidens, either bewitched or bewitching. Next year, he would send his apprentice. He’d argued against coming this time, but here he was, climbing some long forgotten trail in the dark, doing his master’s bidding. Maybe he could make a deal with the Shadow Lord to cure his aches; that would make the trip worth it.
He hadn’t needed a lantern for years, having become so accustomed to walking in darkness that it held little mystery. He winced as a faint haze of light crept over the eastern mountains. By the Light, he hated coming here. Picking up his pace, he pushed through the overhanging brambles in time to pull the vines aside and usher the first ray of spring into the cave. Deleyna was still there, of course.
She had not changed since she was laid to rest over eighty years ago. Nian stood next to the slab and gazed at her with discomfort. Frozen in her last moment of purity, she embodied all that he had come to abhor.
The Light skittered along the floor, causing spiders and small rodents to run deeper into the shadows. Nian glanced down at it in annoyance. He’d been through this ceremony over forty times, and knew the light would pass over her in an instant and continue down the mountain to work its magic elsewhere. Today, however, it seemed almost playful, as if it intended to stay.
The cave began to pulse with warmth, and he stepped into the shadows to watch as the ray gathered strength and explored the cave. It wavered over an empty stone slab, highlighting tiny particles of dust dancing to the echoes of music long silenced. For a moment, Nian swore he could almost recognize the song. His pulse quickened as the presence within the light focused on him accusingly.
“I am here as the Shadow Lord’s representative.” My right, my duty, he mused.
Accepting his presence, the Light moved on to the slab where Deleyna lay.
The glow passed through her long white veil and caressed the delicate curves of her body. She was gowned in fine white linen, interwoven with golden filaments that entranced the Light and focused it upon the sleeper. It raced along the flowing gown, pausing only for a moment to penetrate the jewel set into the hilt of a knife hung at her side. The blue of the gem was so deep that the Light disappeared briefly, and then pulled itself away.
Nian watched, transfixed, stunned by the sheer power he sensed within that single beam of light. The Light wove its way up the stitched gown to the pale hands crossed over her silent heart. Here it paused again. On her finger was another vibrant blue stone, this held in a dual setting with a blood red ruby. Nian swallowed as the light shunned the ruby and danced within the sapphire.
The ray flickered on the gilt embroidery of the bodice, and traced a gold ribbon woven into the long, brown braid. The veil did little to obscure Deleyna’s pale beauty as the Light fought against the enshrouding spell, breaking her peace.
The cave was full of light now, shoving aside the shadows that had held Deleyna captive for so long. He listened, as the shadows seemed to whisper. “Now, now she is ours!”
Aside from respecting Lisa as a writer, I also respect her as a friend and a person. In her writing, she demonstrates a dazzling skill as a story teller. It’s hard for me to critique her writing because I get so drawn into the story I just read for pleasure. Even when I go back the second time, I find myself getting lost in the beauty of the writing again. I absolutely adore her writing in case you didn’t notice. There is a grace to is as well as an entrancing story.
She, like many others, had to put her writing on hold for a few years when life bit her in the butt, but she is back at it now. Even with life still dealing some tough hands, she continues to work on Dominion. Perhaps these experiences give a writer depth. That’s what she tells me anyway when I bleed emotion all over the page.
She and her husband devote selflessly to a program that helps train pilots for mercy missions. While I respect well to do people who donate money to worthy causes, I am always most impressed by the people who give of themselves when it is a true sacrifice.
Lisa and Beth Shope have been two of my staunchest supporters through the years and they are a complete blessing.
Lisa recommended Open Office. I am going to give it a try and see how I like it. Being able to use one program on the PC and the laptop would be lovely.
In addition to running an airplane hospital, Lisa is a very talented web designer.
Monday I will take Big Blue to work and see if Joseph, my tech guru can fix the beast one more time before Surrey. I’m going to back everything up and put on flash drives before the conference and then have him rebuild it while I’m gone. But for now, I just need to get as much done on TISD before the conference.
Yes, I will be going. I will have the funds in place next week and I’ll make all my reservations then. Aside from meeting friends I have known for years through the net, my main attraction is the networking and workshops. I’m hoping they will take my work to the next level before submitting to agents. Of course, I will probably learn I am doing everything all wrong and I need to rewrite the whole thing, but that’s all right. You have one chance to make a good first impression.
And speaking of first impressions, I wish I had gotten serious about losing some weight a few months ago. Ah well.
I’m probably sending off two entries to the Surrey Writer’s Contest.
Update on Will. He will be going to Georgia on the 31st. He isn’t sure how long they’ll be there as there are still quite a few who haven’t had emergency medical training yet. He did his last week. As part of the training, they have to learn to give IVs. They do this by practicing on each other. One of them apparently hit an artery and blood was shooting out like a pulsing fountain. Luckily, no one panicked, including the fountain soldier.
In one training exercise they left a soldier behind in a simulated enemy attack. Everyone was supposed to be accounted for, but there were two Gonzalez’ so when the check went out for Gonzalez, someone said he was loaded. A sergeant came along in a Jeep later and found him walking back to base. Of course, if this had been a real attack on the convoy, he would have been dead instead of walking back to base.
Their commander went to Iraq to their base and took a bunch of pictures of the base and the routes they will be providing convoys and security for. They are stationed near a border and will be running 180 truck convoys. That seems like an awful large target to me, but I suppose the smaller ones are more susceptible.
I will be setting back part of these funds to go to Georgia when he deploys. He’s pretty sure he will be here through September. I hope so. The baby is due September 20 and I want him to be there for that. They will give him a leave to be with her for the birth and two weeks after.
I’ve noticed as the elections loom closer, more political comments and rants are being tossed out on different writer’s sites. This saddens me greatly.
I don’t care if people have strong political beliefs, that is their right. I do care that the places I go for writing advice, wisdom, humor are being used as political platforms. The reason I care is if they are freely offering their political opinions on the websites, I imagine I will also be treated to these opinions in a working relationship. I’m not going to debate politics with an agent or publisher, just as I will not debate religion with people.
I’ve made the mistake of responding to posts with political commentary twice this month. This is public notice I will not be doing that again. Not because I got taken down a notch, but because I enjoy the few writing sites I go to too much to feel unwelcome there. I went down that road with Books and Writers eight years ago and walked away for six years. Politics are simply too much of a hot button and they have nothing to do with my writing.