The Finder

Love the cover, love the story, so exciting. Read the beginning in previous posts and then wait...

part 5 of the finder

But I used to dream of having a friend, someone I could trust and talk to. I pinned my hopes on the academy, there I would be normal. Others would understand, I would have lots of friends.

 

Mind you, I was not lonely, not in the physical sense, because although the children did not like me I still got lots of invitations to people’s house and parties and sleep overs. Inevitably I ended up with the adults asking me to find something for them, ‘as you are here.’ I started to walk out when this happened and find my way home, which was considered rude and unthoughtful and the children thought it was a bit weird. They would have been scared to walk through the streets at night. But I am a finder, I could find a safe way home. But they didn’t know. Nor did my parents. I upset them, they were happy when I was a popular girl. So I stayed at the other children’s homes and found lost objects, and my parents were happy. The children would pretend to play with me so that their parents were happy.

We did a lot of that, as children, keeping our parents happy. Should have been the other way round to my mind.

 

 I think the whole town sighed with relief when my tenth birthday arrived and my academy days were about to begin. The adults could tell people that they knew me, a finder, and that I had stayed in their home and helped them find something to say than you as they had been kind to me. The children could say that they were friends with a finder, it would give them some rubbed off status in life, as long as I was not there to prove them wrong.

 

It is the only birthday party I remember having. And what a party it was. The music was loud enough to be heard all over town. The entertainer was funny, I don’t remember what he did but he must have been funny because people around me were laughing, I think he entertained the adults more than the children.

There were balloons fixed all over the roof of the house, just in case someone passing by wanted to wish me luck. There was so much food piled onto the tables, cakes of all shapes and colours to gorge on, and a huge pile of presents. I didn’t eat anything and I don’t remember what the present were. Probably clothes for the academy.

Everyone I knew in the neighbourhood, and many I didn’t, came to wish me a good experience at the academy. I had so many good luck hand slaps that I could not bend my fingers they were so swollen and red. No-one noticed. They were all so happy for me.

To make sure that I would remember them, when I was a qualified finder, business cards and telephone numbers were pressed furtively into my raw, sticky hands. I don’t remember what I did with them, they were probably thrown in the burner with the rest of the party debris.

I remember feeling very lonely in this sea of well-wishers. I could not wait to leave.

 

Please understand, I loved my home, and I would miss the familiarity. My parents had inherited it or I guess we would have been living in a down under apartment as we never had much money. We had a double sloped roof on the surface, one side was made from windows and light gatherers, and the other side was covered in solar tiles. They were such fun to slide down, as long as you didn’t get caught! The space around our roof and others in the street was filled with plants, trees – although not close enough to create shade on the roofs – grass and flowers. It was cared for by the town and everyone treated it with care and respect. If you damaged the land you would be in big trouble and you could lose your home. But as people were always so busy it was mostly the children who used the space. Sometimes in the summer there would be parties and once we even had people sitting on our roof and singing to the stars. You should have seen my parents, they did not know what to do, in the end they did nothing, there was no harm done. At school we had learnt that in the past people had their own private piece of land that they had to take care of, I believe they did not do this very well. How could anyone have thought they owned land? This concept was beyond me. There was a special solar gathering roofed area at the end of the street for hover cars. They were recharged overnight, we did not own one, as they were too expensive for factory workers.

We had two levels in our home, the top one was a kitchen, a small table to eat at, and a comfy sofa for watching the screen wall and playing games – if you could pay. This space had natural light and I loved it. The next level had two bedrooms, a washroom, a toilet, and store room. Each room had solar tubes that brought in light from the sun in the daytime and stored light when it was dark. My room was very small, there was space for my high up bed, under which was a cupboard for my clothes, that was it. The store room did not have much in it and was also my punishment room, my parents knew how much I loved being outside and in the natural light. I knew the storage room and all the creatures that dwelt it its damp and dingy confines quite well. That was one part of my home I would not miss. I said goodbye to each room in turn, I was not sure when I would be back to stay.

It was going to be strange and incredibly wonderful to live somewhere with natural light in every room.

 

My parents could not afford to send me to the academy on the air-train so they left me and my small case at the town travel-share office, said goodbye and hurried to their work. It was quite some time before someone said they were going in the direction of the city and had space for me. They did not go all the way, but dropped me at anther town’s travel share. It was a long, tiring and at times scary three day journey. I was a little dishevelled by the time I got to the city as I had slept in my clothes on travel-share office benches in strange towns. I was also very hungry, I had eaten most of the packed food on the first day. I did not know it would take so long to get to the city. The air-train had been so fast.

I no longer had any fat reserves on my body so I was feeling a little lightheaded and slightly disorientated as I walked slowly up the hill towards the academy. I thought I was prepared for the sight of the old building, but it stopped me moving, it was awe inspiring, set high up in the city, with its huge rooms and spacious balconies overlooking the ordinary people. I always felt that the building was a little smug with its placing and chosen occupants. It was terribly grand and slightly overpowering for a mere ten year old. I had to force my feet to move and concentrate on taking one step at a time.

This tall, blue stone, tower adorned, gargoyle infested building was going to be my home for the next six years. I never believed how quickly it would become normal to look out of a window, to walk through the elaborately carved arched gateways and wander through around inner courtyards littered with fantastic sculptures.

part 4 The Finder- comments please

This is the 4th snippet from The finder
there will be another- then you will have to wait as I will be writing like crazy and not taking time to edit.

As soon as we got home I ran to the washroom and stood in front of the mirror. I wanted to check out this ‘normal’ girl. I studied the girl staring back at me. Her hands were clenched into fists, I relaxed them and then had to shake out the pins and needles from my long fingers with their short, smoothed nails. My parents had insisted that I stopped biting them before we went to the academy, they had dipped my hands in something that tasted disgusting. They thought a finder needed nice looking hands. Strange really as it’s not my hands that do the finding. Did I want to bite them again? I held them up by my face and wiggled them. No, they looked so nice now, they were normal hands. I grinned and looked into the eyes of my reflection.

My eyes. Everybody knows that a finder had bright blue eyes, mine were anything but bright blue. But at the academy they had explained to my parents that the colour change would happen after I was ten. The magical number 10. My eyes were the exact same colour as my parents, I checked them every day and adjusted the colour if I needed to. I must have only been three, I think, when my eyes changed. I looked in the mirror one night before bedtime and saw a whirling tunnel of colours, quite mesmerising. I didn’t understand why they had changed, but I quite liked them. I experimented with finding one shade of colour and bringing it forward, then another. I chose a deep purple shade, it matched the teddies on my nightgown. When my parents came to say goodnight I opened my eyes wide so they would see my beautiful eyes. There was a look of horror reflected back at me, so I blinked and quickly found my old colour. They looked anxious and peered deeply into my eyes before smiling and kissing my head goodnight. I heard them muttering about a problem with the solar filters and reflected colour. From then on I only played with my eye colour when I was alone.

Back to the ‘normal’ girl in the mirror. She had pretty hands and ordinary eyes, what next? I studied my hair. Curly and dark, I pulled some curls closer to examine them in detail. There was a mixture of brown and a darker red-tinged brown hairs, nothing unusual. My curls were always kept short, nothing below my chin as they were hard to brush, knots were always a problem for my parents, especially since I liked to experience the natural world up close. I just loved to roll in the crispy colourful leaves of autumn and then lie on my back and stare into the vast expanse of sky, but my parents were not so keen on my nature festooned head! But today it was clean and tidy as we had been on our special trip.

The rest of me was a bit on the chubby side, well I did get paid in cakes, biscuits and sugars, but as I liked to run, dance and jump whenever I could my body had not suffered too much. In fact when I lifted up my dress to look at my legs I was surprised to see that they were not chubby at all, they looked strong and normal, from all angles. They looked quite slim when I stood on my toes. Nothing remarkable about them, I had five toes in the right place, my feet were not too long or too short. They were not too wide or thin. They were just right for me. They looked normal.

I looked back at the girl in the mirror and gave her a thumbs up. She would do. She could go to school with the other children and not look any different.

 

I started school with all the local children my age, including my no-longer best friend from next door. I looked normal, but the children at school treated me with an edge of uncertainty. Looks were not everything. I think they believed I could find out all their secrets, that I could read their deepest desires and fears. I could have if I had wanted to, but I didn’t. I had decided to only find lost objects, and so I convinced the world and almost convinced myself that I was a simple, one speciality, lost object finder.

But I had more problems than this, I had a very curious mind and was a quick learner. Still have and still am, except for when it comes to the affairs of the heart, apparently. I thrive on new knowledge and get top grades seemingly without any effort. You would think this was a good thing right? But the teachers told my parents that I was disruptive and disrespectful. I asked questions and was rarely satisfied with the answers I was given, a little argumentative I suppose. When I was tired sometimes a wall would crumble and I would know something I hadn’t yet been told. I did not always see the warning looks of puzzlement coupled with a little fear pass between the adults. I would be sent out of the room to think or told to visit the top teacher. Just because I was tired and my knowledge was greater than theirs. I am not sure the other children would have noticed this peculiar trait of mine if the adults had not reacted.

All of this, and the fact that I was a finder, meant that the other children didn’t like me. I didn’t care, I found everything they said and did a little silly and simple.

There was one girl, Farah or Clara, I don’t remember her name. She was the prettiest girl in the class, she wore the best clothes and never had a speck of dirt on her. She pretended to be my friend for a while. I could have liked her, she smiled and chatted and was always happy, on the outside, but her smiles never quite reached her eyes. I guess I felt a little sorry for her and I held back my frustration at her silly talk and play and tried to understand. In the end she invited me to her home. She lived with her mother in an apartment, but she was lucky it was the top apartment so she had natural light and could see the sky. Those below had piped solar reflectors, they were very good, but not the same as real light. Her daddy lived somewhere else and every time he broke a promise of a visit or a holiday he would send her something pretty, her mother wouldn’t let her wear the jewellery he sent and made her keep it in a locked casket. Farah, or Clara, showed me her treasures, and then burst into tears and begged me to help her find the ones that were missing. She didn’t know how she could have lost them as she never took them out of her room. I sat for a while and asked her to describe the pieces that were missing, I didn’t need her words, just the pictures in her mind. Immediately I found a trail and she followed me out of the apartment and into the town. She couldn’t understand why I stopped outside the jewellery shop, but when she looked in the window she went very pale and began to shake with the effort of not crying. She pushed me away and ran home. I followed to make sure she got back ok. She never spoke or even looked at me again. I didn’t quite understand what I had done wrong.

The Finder - third snippet of this story - please comment

My parents sometimes asked for money when I ‘found’ something and by doing this they saved up the air-train fare to take me into the big city to the finder academy. Here they could get me tested, to prove to everyone that they were not playing some sort of elaborate trick.

By the time they had enough money saved I was a canny five. I had learnt that if it took you longer to find something people paid more, which seemed a bit daft to me, but by now I had worked out that adults were a little strange.

 I was aware that being able to find things one day and not the next upset my parents. They frowned when someone told them that I’d not found their lost keys but had found a cousin that they did not know about, who actually lived in the same town! The next day I might find a missing pet or talk to the ghost of someone who had not yet found their way to the afterlife. You would not believe how many of them have messages to give to loved, or unloved, ones before they could find their way, so I’d pass the message on, as best I could. You would have thought that my parents would have been pleased that I could find so many different things, but they muttered and murmured in the kitchen about me. When I found out their secret worries - that I was not normal, that it was impossible to have more than three specialities, that I would be locked away and remembered as ‘that crazy girl’, I was scared.

I chose the easiest finding of them all – finding lost objects – and concentrated all my efforts on this. When I found other stuff with my mind I built walls to keep them out and ignored the pull. An object finder was way better than being a dead finder. I had a sore heart and had cried myself to sleep for many a night after finding my friend’s soggy, slightly bloated kitten. The image of his fish nibbled ear has never left me.

I didn’t know if other finders choose their speciality, I didn’t know any other finders at that time.

 

 

The trip to the academy on the air train was very exciting, although I had to pretend to get lost when I needed the toilet so that my parents wouldn’t worry. I loved the smooth whoosh as we flew over the animals in the fields, they continued to eat, glancing at us out of the corner of their eyes. Pretending not to be interested in the silver shimmer passing overhead. But I knew that they were wondering, I could find their curiosity as it sprayed out from them like water droplets from a sprinkler.

I wondered what it must have been like in the past, when trains ran through tunnels rather than just going over or around a hill, I think I would have liked the darkness and the amplified sound. I loved the speed, but part of me wanted to slow everything down so that I could take in all the sights. I could imagine living in that little totally alone house on the hill, or what I would see from the top of the info poles that stretched up into the atmosphere. I loved the look of the triangular roofs cut low into the soil with their shiny solar panels glistening in the sunlight. The circular solar tubes next to each house made an interesting geometric pattern in the green, tree covered land. I had read in stories that before house were built high above the ground. I tried to imagine the air-train twisting between tall buildings, towering over us and blocking gout the light. I shivered.

The journey was over too soon and my dreams were cut short. I promised myself, before I stepped out of our section, that I would travel all over the world on as many air trains as I could when I was a certificated finder. I am working on that promise.  

Imagine my shock when we walked through the cities trees and gardens and I looked up the hill and saw the academy. It was bigger than I had imagined an old building would be, it was huge and towered over my small body, high into the sky. The shadow it created swallowed me up and I had to half close my eyes and look down to make my feet move forward. Even my parents were impressed, and yet they must have known. Why had no one told me?

My head was spinning, there was so much finding in the air it clouded the building like a mist. I think my mouth opened wide enough to swallow it all as I followed my parents up the stairs and through the doors.

Inside there were doors and stairs everywhere, leading to answers and the knowledge I thirsted for, but I was not given the chance to explore. My parent’s hands guided my shoulders in the direction of a sunlit room and they left me there, with strangers.

They were nice people though, they told me they were finders and teachers, they smiled a lot and there were toys and games for me to play with. I was careful to only find objects, although it was a strain to keep up my walls. It felt like a thousand fingers were tapping at my head, trying to find a way in. They were clever people and very observant. A few lifted eyebrows was enough to focus my mind, but it meant that my finding ability was erratic.

I don’t know how long I was there, being tested. I had some lunch sitting at a round table by the window, but I was too little to see out. I could see the sky, it was blue with a few wisps of cloud. No rain coming. I wanted to stand on my chair and press my nose to the view, but I don’t think they would have liked that.

Sometime later I heard the finder teachers assuring my parents that my erratic ability was normal, I was still very young, that my mind was adjusting to the new experiences. I was relieved and thought that was great. I latched onto the word - normal. I was five and I understood that I was normal, that everything I experienced was the same for every other finder. I did not know what normal meant, but it made my parents happy, so it must have been ok.

The finder teachers told me, in that slow, simple language way adults do when they are talking to a child, that I was an object finder and would be welcome in the academy when I was 10, when my finding ability would be fully developed. I would be enrolled into the elite society of finders to learn about finding.

 I wanted to question this logic as I found it lacking somehow, but somehow I knew this would be frowned upon so I sealed my lips into a lopsided smile.

One of the finder teachers noticed my slight confusion, looked at me closely and asked, ‘Are you happy with being a lost object finder?’

‘Oh yes, it’s just that sometimes I find too many things, and people are not happy,’ I replied.

She smiled at me and said, ‘People lose many things, it is important to find only what they have asked you to find. It will become easier to do this.’

I breathed a huge sigh of relief, it seemed that this confusion and choosing was normal for a finder. I wondered, just for a moment, if I should have chosen something else. It was hard to choose so young. I wanted to ask if I could choose something different when I was ten. But the words stuck in my throat.

 The finder teacher looked at my parents and added with a frown, ‘She is not a finder yet, she is a child and as such she should not be working. If people ask for her help, tell them to go to the local finder bureau.’

My parents were astonished that she could think that they would do such a thing as let their child work, at such a young age, and they assured her that they would watch me more carefully. But I don’t think the teacher finder was convinced.

She winked at me as my parents turned to leave. I hesitated, then I ran down the steps after them, stopping to look back at my future only once.

 

The Finder continues . . .

The Finder continues . . .

The people who asked for me to help them were not being cruel, oh no, it is just that finders are not cheap to hire. Every town has a finders bureau where you take your problem, it is assessed and graded, when the fee has been paid a finder will be chosen and the job will be done. Not always a quick fix to a problem but it sorts out the time wasters and lazy people from the genuine cases. Most people however know about the ‘back door’ where small requests could be handled without the bureau knowing – ‘under the nose’ it is called.  If you have access to a four year old finder who is happy with a small gift of fruit or a packet of sugars, then I guess that’s what you do.

Don’t get me wrong, though, when I was four I loved visiting other people’s homes, seeing what their houses looked like from the inside- I was very curious- or nosy- so it suited me, this popularity. I enjoyed the cakes, drinks, sugars and fruit, I felt important and special. There were some requests that scared or puzzled me, but generally I was happy to help, when I could. It was very tiring though, and I never had trouble sleeping, not when I was four.

But after a few months the whispers began, it seemed that my talent was not consistent and my speciality was hard to determine. There was anger when I failed to find something for one person but managed to help their next door neighbour. Favouritism was spouted and my parents were often confronted with red faces and spluttered insults when they arrived home from a long, tiring day at the factory where they worked.

My best friend lost his toy hover car in the shared garden, it was his favourite red one. He cried when I could not find it and refused to speak or play with me for a week. We were friends again, briefly, until I found his kitten drowned in the stream that ran behind our houses. For some reason, his parents said, it was my fault that the kitten was dead, I should have found it sooner.

The Finder - the start of something new - comments please

A new story began in my head the other night, I'd love some comments.

Gracie -The Finder

 

I am a finder, and as the name suggests we finders find things.

Finding is a natural ability that emerges between the age of two years and six years. By the time I was four my parents were proudly telling everyone in our street that I was a finder. This ability of mine was a surprise because normally it was passed down through generations, but there was no one else in the family, or in our extensive family stories who was a finder.

The majority of finders have one speciality, some two and the very rare finder has three. We are very much in demand in this world of ‘do everything at top speed’, and ‘use whatever short cuts you can to achieve a better life’, better in what way I still haven’t discovered. The general attitude is - why spend some time looking for something or someone when you can pay a finder? And even better why pay a finder if you can coerce or persuade, through whatever means at your disposal, a finder to work for you free gratis?

My parents proud bragging meant, of course, that many in the neighbourhood were jealous and wanted to prove my parents wrong. I was suddenly a very popular little girl, invited into everyone’s home. Finding a babysitter was no longer a problem for my parents, in fact they had a queue of eager people who suddenly had the time, time that they never had before, to look after me.

My dear parents blinded by their pride, excitement and keenness to find out what speciality I had, encouraged me to say ‘yes’ to any requests, without always checking what the people wanted me to find. I remember being asked to find a ‘huge pile of money’, well the town only had three banks at the time so it was quite easy for me to direct my neighbour’s zoomer to the nearest one. I did ask him why he hadn’t thought of it before asking me, it did seem fairly obvious, and I was only four. He wasn’t very happy, he pushed me out of his expensive, fast car saying something about being made a fool of or not and he left me there, in town, in the dark, on my own.

Of course I had no problems finding my way home, although I had never walked the shortest route before. It took me through the, shall I say, interesting part of town, my innocent eyes absorbed many a not so innocent sight. I didn’t understand what I was seeing, but my father turned red in the face when I asked him why some people liked to roll in the streets with not many clothes on, or rub themselves together up against a wall. They didn’t seem very comfortable as most of them were groaning. For a while my parents were more careful who I helped. But they had short memories.

6 ways to promote your book

6 ways to Promote your book

Don’t be as naive as I was - I snuck DragonZ Eye into the world in December 2013 with no fanfare, no build up and expected it to be noticed.

I have been on a huge learning curve. This is what I have gleaned from many different sites and blogs.

Time of year for launching. -December is not the best time of the year to self-publish a book – People are spending money on presents, some buy books but there are usually popular, well-known authors rather than first timers. Summer can be problematic with people paying for holidays. Spring is a good time- February or March. There is a positive mental state in Spring, a time for change and new choices.

Tell people before launching - use social network sites twitter , facebook, goodreads, and local media. Write a press release in third person with local interest and send in some photos with it. If possible do a coming soon poster for local book stores, libraries (and schools if your audience is children.)

Get some endorsements from more established authors to quote- find them via social media sites. Not so easy to do, but worth the effort.

Use visual methods to promote the book – photos, videos, - book cover launch, leak some illustrations if you have them.

Find people to read and review your book from your social sites, have them primed to put the reviews on amazon as soon as the book is available.

Create competitions to win a signed book or other promotional items such as pens or t-shirts.

Where would you like to write?

Sorry, I have neglected this blog.
I have began a free online writing course, here is a sample of an exercise.

Writing spaces

 

I would like to write in -

A light and airy round or hexagonal place set within the grounds of a private garden. A large table at perfect laptop typing height and a cushion comfortable chair. Wall space for inspirational pictures but lots of windows too. Sounds of nature only, maybe a quiet wooden wind chime in the distance.

 

A beam of sunlight filtered through the slightly dusty windows, creating a patch of gold on the honey coloured floorboards. A slight breeze entered the open door carrying birdsong, a lazy buzz of a fat bumblebee and the faint clack of a wooden wind chime. Her fingers clicked over the laptop keyboard, an unconscious huff of upward breath removed the falling fringe that threatened to disturb her concentration. Her nose twitched and she sneezed. She straightened her back slightly in the soft cushioned chair as her eyes focussed on the inspiration board placed between two large windows. A soft sigh and a wry smile. Her thoughts and fingers returned to her story.

 

I would not like to write in –

A crowded café. Small table and a hard chair. Table and chair getting knocked, coat being brushed from the back of the chair as people squeeze by. Chat. Laughter and the swish of newspapers being opened. The noise of the coffee machine and cash machine. The door opening to let in bursts of cold air and new disturbances.

 

She put her pen down and supressed her frustration as another full shopping bag pushed past the small round table. She lifted her bottom slightly from the hard seat to relive the numbness that was spreading down her legs.

            ‘Sorry,’ said a loud voice above her head. She picked her coat up from the floor and draped it awkwardly across her knees. Taking a deep breath of coffee and rain infused air she looked around. A man was juggling a hot coffee and a slightly damp newspaper that refused to open or fold in the way he wanted it to. She glanced away quickly as he looked at her with a frown. Her eyes were drawn to a group of young girls, crowded around a table, giggling at something on a phone. The gurgle and swish of the coffee machine and cash till created a musical background as she picked up her pen and sketched the scene in words, briefly.

The door opened, bringing in a fresh gust of damp air and new inspiration.

Sky / weather Dragons
 

Others became almost translucent as they guided the winds that swirled around the world, ensuring that clouds were moved to where they were needed before dropping their load of water, ice or snow.

 


Do you watch the clouds, scudding across the skies above your head? Do you lie on your back on a summer day and see all manner of creatures and shapes in the blue expanse?
If so then no doubt you will have glimpsed air or weather dragons.








Discover more about dragon sightings on the page opposite-
Dragons in the real world

Atmosphere Dragons

Others flew high in the atmosphere cleaning and repairing it when it was buffeted by solar flares, they became as brightly coloured as the aurora borealis, rarely coming to land on solid ground.

 

The Aurora Borealis - I have not had the pleasure of seeing this yet, but many photos have been taken.

This one shows the trail left by a dragon's tail while it flew high protecting our earth. They absorb the harmful rays and stir the natural colours with their passing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are even more compelling pictures on the page - Dragons in the real world- check it out if you have any doubts.

Evidence of Tree Dragons

Some planted great forests to keep the air fresh and full of oxygen, they dwelt within the leafy boughs. Their skins becoming bark-like, their wings veined like leaves.

How observant are you? How many times have you scuffed through the autumn leaves and not see the baby dragons fly into the air and flutter back to the ground ? They look very delicate, but they are tough little creatures, they hide in the leaves for fun. Listen carefully next autumn and you may hear their crackling squeals of delight as you propel them high with your feet.

Read more on the page -  Dragons in the real world

Dragons in the real world

Did Ray and Jem succeed in freeing the dragons?
Would you know?
Only the truly observer may catch a glimpse of the truth.

In DragonZ Eye there is a description of the different dragon types that developed on earth -

    'The dragons had different specialities, and over many thousands of years they adapted to the elements they worked with. Those who tamed the lava flows loved the life in the fiery depths beneath the land. They grew thick red and orange scales that protected them as they swam through the lava tunnels, ensuring that the heat from the heart of the planet was released in a controlled and steady manner. Those who swam through the seas developed gills and their wings resembled fronds of seaweed, they could remain beneath the surface, controlling the currants of cold and warm water. Others flew high in the atmosphere cleaning and repairing it when it was buffeted by solar flares, they became as brightly coloured as the aurora borealis, rarely coming to land on solid ground. Some planted great forests to keep the air fresh and full of oxygen, they dwelt within the leafy boughs. Their skins becoming bark-like, their wings veined like leaves. Others became almost translucent as they guided the winds that swirled around the world, ensuring that clouds were moved to where they were needed before dropping their load of water, ice or snow. Some dragons grew thick, almost fur like, coverings as they tended the ice crystals growth in the great vast white landscapes on either side of the planet.'

 

I plan to show you how to look for signs of these dragons

See more on the page 'Dragons in the real world'

 

 

Extracts from DragonZ Soul - book 2 of DragonZ Freedom to be published June 2014

Chapter One

The thunder continued to compete with the sound of the crashing waves as they painfully climbed up the rock. Lightening flashed creating long shadows and dark holes, making it more difficult for Ray and Jem to find handholds. The adrenalin rush was fading and their bodies felt heavy. Jem groaned as he reached up above his head, fingers searching for purchase.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

Ray pulled on Jem's bag. 'Stop, you are going to walk right past it.' Jem turned startled at Ray voice.

            'Uh? Sorry, I was miles away.' He rubbed his face and yelped. 'Ahh, I've just rubbed dust into my eyes. Ow.' Ray stifled a laugh as Jem jumped around, blinking furiously. Tears made streaks down his dusty face. 'What you smiling at?' He growled at Ray.

            'You look a rare breed of red and grey tiger.' Ray said as his laughter got the better of him. He sat down and held his stomach. Jem looked down in disgust as his brother rolled in the dirt. But he was unable to resist the joyful sound and soon he joined in.  They gulped down water to wash away the last giggles. 'That was fun,' said Ray.

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

For a moment they let their imaginations take them soaring across the city, over the forest and the cracked plain, across the rock and lava river. The dragons swooped up the vertical cliff and flew them safely through the door. They opened their eyes and grinned at each other.

            ‘If only it was that easy,’ sighed Jem as he climbed down.

 

Shouting in the virtual world

How to be heard amongst so many other voices?

I am not a social person, shyness is something I have overcome (sort of) as an adult, but it still lingers in my background. I am more comfortable with fewer people than many.

Shouting out to people to say I exist and I tell a great story is not a strong point of mine. So marketing my own books is not a strong point. But unless I do it my stories will sit unread and that is sad.

So - what to do?
I have read other peoples blogs and advice and I scratch the surface with the following-

TWITTER -@JenniClarke2
I do twitter, but often get lost with so many tweets arriving as I try to make sense of the short messages filled with # and links. I never know quite what to write, and when I have something to say I run out of space!

FACEBOOK -https://www.facebook.com/DragonZFreedom?ref=hl
I have a facebook page for my book series DragonZ Freedom. Few follow this page, I don't know how to make it more exciting or how to attract more people. No comments or replies makes it very dry and not at all interactive.

BLOG-
This blog exists, but no-one reads it ! I thought the name my husband came up with was cool and interesting -the 57th page-  thought it would attract attention to see what it is. I am losing faith that it is a good use of time. I wanted to attract others for read for review swaps and for chat and ideas of how to overcome the obstacle course of indie publishing. Perhaps I just need to be patient.

PINTEREST -http://www.pinterest.com/jenniclarke56/
This is fun and useful as a storyboard and visual ideas collection. Ray, one of the main characters from my story has his dream board on my page. There are ideas for another series too.

It is hard to target the audience for my story as it is the 8 - 12 year group and they do not tend to be on the social networks that I use.

So I try my best and hope that someone will comment and maybe suggest what I can do to improve my shouting !!

Ahhh Writers Block - what to do ?

                        Writer's Block

Writer's Block sneaks up in different guises -

·      Your story comes to a full stop.

·      You have the time to write but make excuses not too.

·      The paragraph just won't flow.

·      You can't decide what the main character would do in this situation.

·      You have written the first two books in the trilogy- no idea what to write for the third.

·      ...and I'm sure there are more...share them?

 

Sadly a bulldozer or drain cleaner will not solve the problem.
So what can you do?
People have different techniques - here are some -

·      Tuck the storyline problem into a corner of your brain and go and do some exercise.

·      Sit and wait.

·      Meditate.

·      Sleep on it.

·      Talk to your character, ask them what's going on, what would they like to do?

·      Re read the last chapter.

·      Highlight the problem paragraph for a later look and continue.

·      Write an silly version of the chapter, forcing your character to make the wrong choices.

·      Find an inspirational piece of art or music, let your mind wander.

 

Any more solutions would be great.

Reviews - the good, the bad and the ugly!

Reviews – the good, the bad and the ugly!

 

 

Before setting out on the Indie publishing road I read, loads. But I did not review.

 After getting a kindle I began to review books that I could download for free- payment of a sort I thought.

I did not realise then that it was payment, even if it was not a 5 star.

I had no idea just how important reviews were to a newly published author.

 

Getting close to my self-imposed date of publication, my husband asked me I was fiddling with the cover.  I explained to him how I found a book to buy as a reader and as I did so I became aware of how many reviews I read before reading the sample pages.

Reading the reviews helped me decide if the story was in a style I'd like to read, more so than the blurb. The reviews were from people who had read the book, not an author trying to suck me in by hinting at great things.

 

Reviews, I realised, were golden.

 

 

My book was published in Dec 2013 and I offered it for free over the Christmas week, knowing that people with a kindle under the Christmas tree would be searching and downloading free books. 250 downloads – I was so pleased and expected the reviews to start flooding in.......0 new reviews

 

I was still not learning from my own experience as a reader. I have free books on my kindle from 6 months ago – still unread.

 

BUT

 

They will arrive at some time, the good and the bad.

 

And I will be prepared for the good and the bad, for as Oscar Wilde so aptly wrote -

 

 

 

'There is only one thing worse in the world than being talked about

and that is

not being talked about'

 

 

 

Ok, here goes -

 

 

5 star reviews

 

1. From family and friends -They are probably slightly biased so I will take them with a well meaning pinch of salt But there is that bubble of hope that they did really enjoy the story and not just because they are proud of me and want me to do well. It's not that they are not being honest, but they had such a desire to enjoy the story. They know me, and possibly some of the characters and places. So they have a different understanding of the book.
2. From other authors- read for review -I will smile and feel an up welling of happiness and pride. They are probably honest, but the cynic in me says they want a 5 star review in exchange...hummm. So I will celebrate, be pleased and note some of the things they liked so that I can ensure this good practise continues in the next book.
3. From unknown readers – I will smile :) eat chocolate and be proud. But I won't let it go to my head (well I might a little) they like everyone else are just expressing their opinion. I know I have bought books and then looked back at reviews afterwards and wondered if I'd read the same book as those gushing 5 stars reviewers. I will some of the comments to brighten a bad hair day.

 

 

 

4 star reviews
 

1. From family and friends  - I have asked some of them to read a book out of their normal reading genre. I am happy, this is a great rating, and hopefully the words reflect why it was the perfect story for them. I will think – are they my target audience?
2. From other authors- read for review -again it may not be their preferred genre. They are being honest. I will welcome these and read carefully what they write.
3. From unknown readers – I will read what they write carefully, if they are my target audience I will be very pleased with 4 stars, but also think about what can I learn.

 

3 star reviews
 

1. From family and friends – make sure I don't ask them again ! No seriously, they may be very helpful; maybe there are major editing problems. Be grateful, but I will ask them to let me know in an email!
2. From other authors – read for review –I will look at what they say carefully, they will probably recommend sites or books to read to improve my writing style. I will write down their main points, wait a few days and then decide whether I will act upon their views. After all it may be a case of not liking my style of writing or the style that fits the genre I have written.
3. From unknown readers – I will be sad for a little while, then I will give my ego time to recover and then look at what they have written. What can I learn for the next book?

 

2 star reviews
 

1. From friends and family-I will disown them and remove them from my Christmas list !
2. From other authors – read for review – I will probably cry, a little, feel sorry for myself and indignant. Then I will read it again and see what I can learn. I will remember that different people like different things – reviews are a matter of opinion.
3. From unknown readers – the tears will flow, but I won't remove the book from sale. They may have some very valid points, they may just have genuinely not liked the book, they may have downloaded it for free and hate the genre. I won't give up. Do you dismiss a book because it has one 2 star review?

 

1 star reviews
 

1. From family and friends – not possible, they would talk to me.
2. From other authors – read for review- they will have probably sent me a private message saying why they could not read or review. We are all professionals- aren't we?
3. From unknown readers –I will laugh, because all famous and well-known authors have had bad reviews, it keeps the balance. Even JK Rowling has been slated. But then I will look at the comments, dismiss those that do not feel useful and note others as a pause for thought when writing the next book.

 

 

I will also remember that I as a reader and I do not take on board everything that other reviews say.

A book with a range of reviews is normal.

                         What will you do with your reviews?

why did it take me so long?

Why did it take me so long?

 

I loved making up stories in my head as a child. I used to have an imaginary lion that went to school with me; he was my protector so I could cope with the world.

I was so painfully shy, but learnt to act and escape into books as much as I could.

 

 

 

 

 

I loved reading, the experiences, the worlds, the emotions and the sheer imagination of the writers blew me away. I still love reading :)

 

I applied to universities to read English and remember a wonderful interview when I chatted with the professor about why I'd written on my application that I loved reading anything from Dickens to Vonnegut. Time flew and he didn't have time to ask me any questions! I was offered a place.

Sadly I didn't get the grades.

 

 I decided to teach, as I had always loved being with children. I could identify with their imagination and creativity.

I had great fun teaching 4 and 5 year olds. We would read, make up and act out stories. I encouraged them to create their own stories and we had out own story book, where their stories were scribed by any adult that happened to be around when their story struck them.

 

 

I wrote and drew books for them and older children in the school.

 

With my own two boys on weekends and school holidays we often went walking. Into an adventure. Some walks lasted all day, we would go through portals to other worlds, cross angry rivers ( village lanes) and hide from the enemy (other walkers). We would hunt and cook our lunch – amazing how a sandwich can turn into a spit roasted rabbit or deer steak !

 

 

 

I sent ideas to publishers and received only rejections. I stopped trying, I told myself I was too busy to do more.

 

My job changed to being an advisory teacher and I was asked to write books and articles for early years publications. I was so proud when my first book was published- it wasn't quite my dream, but it felt good.

We left England for a different life, more time with our children rather than all hours jobs. I started to think more about book ideas.

I sent ideas to agents and received only rejections. I was too busy to persevere, my self esteem said it was a waste of time.

 

 

Then I received a kindle for Christmas and became aware that it was possible to publish my own book without costing anything but time and knowledge.

 

 

 

 

The story began evolving , especially on long walks and talks with my eldest son.

I began writing, but the story was missing something- actually it turned out to be someone - Ortie. So I began again.

 

I then gave myself a deadline and decided that I would publish a book before I was 50 and did it with a year to spare !!

Ok it still needs some editing, but it is out there.

 

So why did it take me so long?

I could say I didn't have time, but that's not true. There is always some time in every day.

The truth was - I was scared that I'd fail. I didn't believe I could do it. Didn't think it would be good enough. Wasn't sure I could deal with the criticism. This sound familiar to anyone?

But it is ok to be scared, and it is ok to make mistakes, after all we are human and we learn by making mistakes. And other people's opinions are important, how will I deal with reviews?

That's another blog!

And now I have unleashed the words upon the pages, there is so much more I wish to write. I will find the time to write, edit, create covers and illustrations because it is now part of my life..

Review of Spirit Rider

 

Review of spirit rider

 

 http://www.amazon.com/Spirit-Rider-

5 star

I was not sure when I began reading that this was the story for me. I am not a horse person as I have a severe horse allergy and because I read so fast time frames got muddled in my head. So I slowed down and relaxed into the tale.

Not only  did I enjoy this, but I learnt something too.

There are two elements to this book

Firstly it is a sweet, gentle, well written story, a spiritual journey for a horse and rider. The main characters are wonderfully created. No one is in severe crisis, except maybe La Reine. The descriptions are vivid and yet it is easy to read.

Secondly it is a spiritual guide, a reminder of what is important in this life, of appreciating the raw materials that make up our world. I have read and listened to the messages within the story. Just what I needed as I have emotional turmoil at the moment while my body undergoes great change.

I recommend this to people who love horses, are interested in natural healing and for women with some emotional issues they would like resolving.

Review of Brains Bay

4 Star

 

What a fun imaginative story for young readers.

 

An exciting adventure ensues when four friends discover the sinister truth behind a school activities week. A missing student, picking locks and breaking and entering teacher's homes is only the beginning.

 

It is fast paced, easy to read and a bit tongue in cheek. The names of adults and places in the story are chosen with young humour in mind and a groan from adults!

 

There are clear descriptions so it is easy to visualise characters, places and situations.

 

The main characters are well created and the reader is rooting for them from the start. They make wrong decisions as children of their age would, but you will have to read the story to find out if they succeed. The baddies are rotten to the core and ugly. The mastermind behind it all is clever but greedy.

 I could not give 5 stars because I found it a little clichéd in places and often the background to a child's skill is mentioned after they have demonstrated it, almost like an explanation for their actions. There are a couple of loose ends too, but this does not detract from the story or pace, it's just a personal dislike.

 I would recommend this to young readers and parents who like to read to their children.

 

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Brains-Bay-