More on a Work in Progress

Not too long ago I wrote a blog on a villain in one of my novels and on some of the dynamics surrounding villains and how they use lies to create a false narrative. If you didn't catch it, you can read it here.

Roughly twenty-one years prior to the opening of my novel, working title "Draxis," there was a legendary infamous clash that became known as the Battle for Draxis (the working title of  my WIP novella). It was the first time in their over 13,000 year history that this planet had experienced a war between two factions, where citizens died as a result of the conflict, and it shook the civilization to its foundation. 

This terrible clash arose from a lie. Or more accurately, a series of related lies and half-truths. One leader repeatedly accused his challenger of being a would-be usurper and a pariah who would lead the planet to ruin and enslave the populace (when in fact, the one making the claims was actually the one plotting to do all of those things). 

A manipulator can always find clever ways to twist the truth and turn the tables on his enemy, even when the truth should be quite obvious to any reasonably intelligent human being (...or reasonably intelligent alien, in this case). Sometimes people will buy into lies simply because they want to believe them, and because they prefer the status quo over change. Even if it promises to be for the better, many see change as disruptive and unsettling. "Don't upset the apple cart!"

My mission in writing this story is to present the unfolding drama in such a way that the reader can't be sure who is truly the Good Guy and who is the Bad Guy. Only the two opponents' actions and decisions in the course of the events will reveal their true characters.

This story is told from the perspective of Giadius [GEE ah Dee us], who is an important figure in the saga not only for who he is, but for how he later influences two central characters in the following novel. But at this point in time, he's definitely standing firmly in the grey area of doubt. He, like the reader, will have to make his own determination who to align with as events unfold.

I anticipate this story will be novella length, and if all goes according to plan, I'll release it as a companion to the full-length novel. 

Here's a quick peek at the opening, which I'm just beginning to hammer out. It's still very much a work in progress. All comments or questions welcome.

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The Great Palace 

The City of Tahr

Draxis

From the high balcony, Giadius watched a star fall from the infinite blackness of the heavens. A burning star, its light flooding the dark plazas below in an expanding circle of illumination. Sound followed the light, a low rumble that crescendoed into a terrifying roar. Next came the blasts of searing heat. Giadius raised a hand to shield his face from the burn.

In the city below him, those awakened by the calamity rushed into the streets, screaming in terror. He felt no panic. The knowledge and memories of such an event had faded from the conscience of Draxis a generation ago. But he understood. Ultas hadn't prepared his people, so what could this mean to them but the end of their world?

Members of the royal staff flooded onto the balcony beside him, freezing in place to cry and curse and stare. Giadius exploited the confusion to slip through their ranks and back inside the palace before any came to their collective senses. He sidestepped the squad of guards charging up the steps to the second level and made way down to the now unguarded entry to the royal chambers below. Pitting his full weight against the massive door, he pushed it open just enough to angle through. Outside, he found the halls of the palace deserted. 

This was his epiphany--his sign. A chance to slip his invisible bonds and disappear in the chaos. He knew what this meant. He knew who was coming. 

He would be the first to meet the invaders. 

 

To The Stars

Now that I've wrapped up my aquatic science fiction romance novella, The Shell and the Star (which you can now read in its entirety by clicking the link), I'm moving on to my next planned release. Here's a bit of background for the excerpt included below.

We tend to think of those who work in space as "astronauts," but that term (rooted in the Greek words for “star” and “sailor”) generally is only assigned to those from the United States, Europe, Canada, and Japan.

Russia calls its space explorers "cosmonauts" (from the Greek for “universe” and “sailor”). 

But did you know we refer to Chinese astronauts as “taikonaut,” which combines the Chinese word for “space” and the Greek for “sailor.” 

Except that term isn't used in China. They call their spacefarers yuhangyuan, which is derived from words for “space” and “traveler.”

Star Sailor. Universe Sailor. Space Sailor. Space Traveler. They're all pretty poetic terms.

Venturing into my fictional universe, The Inherited Stars Universe, those who travel in spaceships are first called Ta'kaar or Voyagers of the Vortex. The term for a single traveler is Ta'kar. They aren't exactly space explorers, since their path only leads to, through and out of a stabilized wormhole. The Vortex --also known as "a crossrip in time and space" -- was discovered and exploited as a deep space conduit by their ancient and much more advanced forebearers. 

But they don't venture beyond its immediate vicinity for the first 13,000 calendars or so of their civilization's existence. (Calendar is the term they use for a standardized year, since the term "year" is strictly an Earthly term tied directly to our single planet's orbit.) They have no need or desire to explore the great beyond.

Then things...change. And those changes lead to the known galaxy you've read about in Inherit the Stars, StarDog and SpyDog. 

In my novella, Juggernaut, first released in Pets in Space 5 (and about to be published as an individual book in a slightly longer version) is a prequel to Inherit the Stars, taking place about  five calendars before the anchor novel, but nearly 1,500 calendars after the Draxian trilogy I'm working on now. 

In this story, the heroine reveals her controversial beliefs to the hero regarding the planet where they are based to perform their separate missions -- the planet LaGuardia. 

Here's a brief excerpt from Juggernaut:

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Dek studied his face. He maintained steady eye contact. No nonverbal cues that might suggest he was fabricating the story. He seemed…straightforward. But the truth was, she didn’t know what his motives truly were. Or what he was doing here on Site D. He was an enigma in her orderly life, and she’d never encountered a mystery she hadn’t systematically unraveled. Eventually, she’d get to the bottom of what secrets lurked behind those dark, soulful eyes. 

He turned to the door but paused at the exit. “Ask you a question, A-Com?” 

“Quid pro quo?” she countered. 

“No.” He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “I don’t expect any reciprocation for the intel I provided. I’m just curious about something.” 

“That being?” She joined him at the door. 

“When I asked if you were Draxian, you said ‘not necessarily.’” 

“Actually, it was when you said LaGuardians are Draxians that I answered ‘not necessarily.’ The Alliance insists Draxis never existed. That it’s just a myth.” 

His gaze remained locked on her face. “Somehow, I doubt you put much stock in what the Alliance claims.” 

“Not when they’re trying to bury the truth about my planet’s past so they can fabricate a history of their own.” 

“Right.” He rubbed Cassie’s pointed little ears. “For what it’s worth, I also find the Alliance’s attempt to erase twelve thousand calendars of human experience offensive. Maybe we have more in common than you know.” 

Dek opened the seal to her quarters. “I hope you never give me reason to think otherwise.” 

He paused to meet her eyes. “That’s my hope, too.”

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As I mentioned in my previous post on conclusion of The Shell and the Star, Juggernaut holds a clue to why the people in Jinn and Trey's time were abandoned by the known galaxy. I hope to have the expanded Juggernaut published yet in 2022. 

Have a great week. 

Thoughts on the Death of a Queen

 (...and what it has to do with my writing)

Queen Elizabeth II was coronated as the monarch of England years before I was born, and her reign has extended through my entire lifetime--until a few days ago. I've never known any other ruler of England, except through historical readings, movies and television shows and documentaries. 

I'd never met the Queen of England. My husband, having once been a member of U.S. Blue Devils Horse Platoon, had never met her either, though he once rode alongside the Royal Household Cavalry and has visited the royal mews. 

That privilege, however, was afforded to his unit commander who rode in the Queen's Golden Jubilee celebration many years ago. 

He related how prior to the ceremony, one of his fellow riders whispered urgently, "The Queen is right behind you!" 

He turned and, after appropriate introductions were made, she asked, "And what is it you do with the Army?" 

He replied, "I'm a helicopter pilot, Your Majesty." She answered that, yes, she had a few of those, herself. 

Five days later, he had the distinct honor of saluting her on horseback. 

He was later sent a thank you card for participating in the ceremony from the Queen herself, and on a later occasion, a more significant memento arrived when she gifted him a horse--Norman, a magnificent black, part-Shire gelding that stood over 17 hands tall and had once served in a royal capacity. (We often wondered if Norman had been named for General Norman Schwarzkopf -- a.k.a. General Stormin' Norman -- and that's why she saw fit to gift him to a member of the US Army who had ridden in her celebration.) 

Norman is gone now, but he served as the unit commander's mount with the US Blue Devils for many years. And I can claim that, although I had never met the Queen, I did meet one of her horses. :)

Norman is pictured here during a ceremonial funeral parade for a fallen member of our military. He's the big, black horse on the back right and he has the unit commander on his back. I wish I could find a better photo of him!

By the way, the horse pictured front-and-center acting as the mount with the boots turned backward in the stirrups to honor the fallen service member (ala the famous "Blackjack") is none other than our own Irish Sport Horse, Midnight Mission, better known as Velvet. She was David's Blue Devil mount for many years, and she was stabled in Michigan during that time. She knew Norman but had never met the Queen, either. :)

Velvet is retired now, and enjoys her days munching grass in the sunlit pasture with our retired Thoroughbreds and one Pintaloosa pasture ornament. These days, she's over 20 and looks more like an overgrown Shetland Pony than the regal Warmblood she once was. Yes, time does march on. 

Queen Elizabeth II was a lifelong equestrienne and lover of all things equine. In her younger days, she was a skilled rider. She admired and cherished her Thoroughbreds, as do we, and was a fixture at Royal Ascot for many years. She even attended the Kentucky Derby on at least one occasion. So we did share the admiration of horses and I will always sincerely appreciate her support for the sport I love.  

But what I'll remember most fondly about the Queen was her wonderful sense of humor.

On one occasion, during a trip to the United States in 2007, President George W. Bush made a blunder during the welcoming ceremony stating that the Queen had been present for our nation's Bicentennial "in 1776" (he, of course, meant 1976)! The Queen didn't miss a beat when she later gave a speech, playfully beginning, "I wonder whether I should start this toast by saying, 'When I was here in 1776...' That got a great round of laughter and applause. 

When visiting the Chelsea Flower Show in 2016, one of the gardeners informed the Queen that lily-of-the-valley was once used as a poison. The Queen remarked, kiddingly, "I've been given two bunches this week. Perhaps they want me dead."

Queen Elizabeth II was also known for more sobering speeches. Many remember that the Queen received a lot of criticism after the untimely death of the beloved Diana in 1997, once her daughter-in-law, and the mother of her two grandsons. Her stoic silence angered many. When she finally did speak, she mentioned that this was a very private time for the family, and especially for Diana's two young sons, putting her silence in a new perspective for many. 

In her speech about Diana's passing, she said: "She was an exceptional and gifted human being. In good times, and bad, she never lost her capacity to smile and laugh, nor to inspire others with her warmth and kindness. I admired and respected her -- for her energy and commitment to others, and especially for her devotion to her two boys." 

Perhaps one of her most famous lines, now often repeated, she spoke after the terrible events of September 11, 2001. In the closing line of her speech she said, "Grief is the price we pay for love." 

That quote has inspired me profoundly as I work on a scene in my Draxian Trilogy. I mentioned in another blog (When Journeys End, July 3, 2021) that the trilogy is a generational epic, and being generational, I sometimes have to wrangle with the death of a beloved character. In this case, the High Queen of a planet once known as Draxis, and what her death means to the society and to those who loved her. 

Grief is the price we pay for love, indeed. 

I've borrowed bits and pieces of Queen Elizabeth II's qualities for this character -- a sense of humor, an unbending will, a deep faith, a love of animals -- and, in particular, equines and canines -- and the face she must put on hardship, turmoil and tragedy as she leads her civilization into an uncertain future. Like any monarch, she must embrace -- and sometimes struggle with -- ancient tradition. And sometimes she must make a daring and emboldened stand for what she believes is right. 

Not everything she does or says is popular. Sometimes it stirs anger, resentment or outrage, but in the end she does what she believes is best to serve the people of Draxis. Because she understands that being queen is an honor that is all about service to the citizens, and not about personal gain, royal privilege or financial enrichment.

In her Christmas broadcast in 2008, Queen Elizabeth II probably summed up this high queen's feelings quite eloquently:

"When life seems hard, the courageous do not lie down and accept defeat; instead, they are all the more determined to struggle for a better future."

Amen to that.

In my trilogy, there is a reference to the monarch of England -- one I wrote long ago when I was first began penning these stories.  In it, there's a direct quote that makes reference to "His Majesty." That line was meant to remind readers that parts of this story take place in the future, but probably within the lifetime of most readers. That phrase makes homage to the fact that the reign of Queen Elizabeth II would eventually come to an end, but that one of her male descendants would rule after she was gone. Though I had the exact descendant in mind, I never named him. I'll leave that up to the future -- and my readers' imaginations -- to fill in the blank. 

I'd like to close with something that happened in the last week that, in hindsight, seems almost 'meant to be.' 

More than a week ago, I stumbled across an ad for some old British Metal figurines of uniformed British riders on horses. One was definitely a Royal Household Cavalry officer and the other was of a uniformed female rider. They were very reasonably priced -- and I thought they were kind of neat -- so I bought two of them for my husband as mementos of his days riding with the British units. During their transit through the mail system, Queen Elizabeth II passed. When the package arrived a couple of days after, I opened it to find -- to my astonishment -- that the female figure was actually the Queen herself(!), dressed in her royal uniform and riding sidesaddle on a black horse that looks a lot like Norman. 

I believe either there was some sort of divine intervention that I was meant to have this memento or it was a very strange and wonderful coincidence, but whatever inspired me to find the ad and make the purchase, with no knowledge exactly what I was purchasing or what was about to transpire, I am eternally grateful. I'm sure I'll gaze at this figure often as I continue to pen this story about another noble queen...in a different time and a separate place.

If you have any personal thoughts on the passing of Queen Elizabeth II, her life, your memories of her, or the ceremonies and acknowledgements surrounding her passing, please share them in a comment. I do ask that you please be respectful.

Traveling on through history...

 

When Journeys End

As I continue "head-writing" the second and third novels in my generational trilogy, I'm wrangling with one unavoidable aspect -- the death of important characters. It can't be sidestepped in a storyline that covers nearly a century in the transformation of one planet, but that reality doesn't lessen the impact of these terrible losses.

I remember a popular generational series I read as a young adult (anyone remember The Bastard?) As a reader, I ate the series up....until the anti-climatic death of the title character. Then I had difficulty reading on or caring where the story led. 

As an author, it's my responsibility to learn from that experience and ensure the deaths have meaning and/or dignity and the passing leaves the reader with a sense that this character has accomplished their purpose in their time before they "go to the stars," but the day has come when they must hand the reins off to those who will follow them. 

Lately, one of these characters has been asserting her will in my subconscious by showing me scenes from her end days, and "suggestions" for how she'd like it all to unfold. At this point in the story, the focus has shifted to later generations, but she's still very present and still very much a guiding hand and a powerful influence, and her loss is going to be felt very deeply. It's up to me to ensure that her legacy lives on, and the role she played in shaping an empire and preparing it for a bold and uncertain new future casts an indelible mark that will echo down through the centuries.

If you've read any of the books in my Inherited Stars series, you may have a clue who she was. Her actions are still causing ripples fifteen hundred years later, and her legend is either adamantly affirmed or vehemently denied, depending on the particular character's beliefs.

Remember Cleopatra's death scene in the 1963 film? It's a very different death in a very different civilization (and this character most certainly did not commit suicide), but I think it provides some inspiration for how this scene might unfold.

Thanks for stopping by the Lounge today.

The Recruit - An Adventure in the World of Draxis (Part One)

I debated a long while about posting this story, a tale set on the world Draxis, the planet that's central to my upcoming trilogy and frequently referenced in current stories in the Inherited Stars Series. 

You might think of Draxis as a legend comparable to the legend of Troy. For a long time the world wondered about this once-great civilization. Did Helen of Troy's face really launch a thousand ships? Did Achilles and Hector once engage in combat outside its gates? 

Did the great walled city of Troy ever truly exist?  

That question was left unanswered for centuries, until the ruins of Troy were discovered -- a vast, walled, Bronze Age metropolis  -- just as Homer described it and just where he said it would be. 

Now imagine Troy as an entire planet lost to time -- but buried in a very different way.

The Recruit was originally written as bonus material for Draxis--a scene turned inside out and told from a different character's POV. It needs no scene set-up or introduction. I hope you enjoy your first venture into the lands of Draxis, and that you'll come back for more of The Recruit in future blogs. 

The Recruit 

I go by the name Baranar. I will not tell you my real name. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the tale I must tell, because not many know of it. Long ago, a wise man of an ancient tribe on our sister-world, Earth, said that legends are a blending of many voices. This is my voice, and this is my one small thread to weave into the greater tapestry. Here is where it began…

The recruit walked across the wooden floor of Denarri Ranger Station. I listened to the cadence of his steps and studied the set of his head and shoulders. He had a bearing that exuded confidence and competence. My lips twisted into a sneer. More fodder for the farratoras. Another in an endless line of doomed men who came to the Tahila Death Ranger ranks to disappear from society. Or because he had a suicide wish. What crimes had this one committed?

No matter. Here, he’d pay for them all. And soon.

The average lifespan of a Tahila Ranger was three turnings of the moons. If a cadet had the skills to pass initiation—survive the onslaught of a maddened farratora pack or a killdrop by an adult penthis—he might defy the odds.

I defied the odds. For me, eight seasons had passed in the hell of twilight and terror called the Green Death. At twenty-eight suncycles, I’m the “old hand” here. The grizzled veteran. I didn’t survive this long by having new recruits as partners. 

Damn Cannar to the Fifth Hell.

The young man bent his head to speak to Cannar, the Denarri Marshall. The old fool nodded his silver head and raised a hand, pointing my way. The recruit strode in my direction.

Farratora fodder.

“You are Ranger Elite Baranar.” It wasn’t a question. I looked him over. Draxian genes stamped our breed with dark skin pigment, light hair and intense green eyes. What set this one apart was his carriage, the feel to him. Some might call it his aura, but I didn’t believe in mystical hebah.

“That’s my given.” My reply came as a growl. Like most here, my real name and details of my former life are subjects best left unexplored. Here, it’s considered the epitome of rudeness to pry, and social blunders often end in severed limbs…or heads.

“We’re assigned to collect herbs for the farmatechs in Sector Five.”

A take-charge sort, was he? No questions. No seeking of advice. No small talk. Right to the point, and bold enough to venture into the nightmare jaws of the Green Death without a shake to his knees. Overconfidence could be its own brand of suicide.

I glanced at Gallin, who stood at my right elbow. Though ‘friend’ is an alien word here, I respected Gallin as a peer.

“First rush,” I said.

Gallin grunted and shook his head. “Second hit.”

“Four tenkars.”

“Ten.”

The young man tilted his head, his expression telling. He'd guessed we were wagering how long he would last, and it wasn’t fear I saw in his eyes.

“A hundred tenkars and my sword, gentlemen,” he said in a calm voice, “that I survive this tasking.”

Gallin glanced down, then arched a brow. “Done.”

(To be continued in a later post.)

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Thanks for joining me for the beginning of The Recruit. I'll post more of the story soon.