I’ve been working hard on my 5th book as of late.  I’m at a point where everything is detailed and I have to be sure I write them in the correct order.  It is time consuming but more of a stress on the brain. As a result, I can only write in short bursts or else the story meanders.  It’s very taxing on me but that’s the way I planned it.  Funny how books seem so simple when you think them up and are so much more difficult when you write them out.  This is a nice retreat to talk to you fine folks.  Thank you for reading.  I’m still waiting on the edits from the republish of book 3.  I always take them so personally.  It’s hard to not take the edits that way.  You say, “she is just rejecting the way you write.  She’s not rejecting you as a person.”  It is logical.  I have told myself that many times.  So far it hasn’t worked yet.  It’s like a dog having its teeth dug into your leg.  Meanwhile the owner is saying, “He’s just doing it because he doesn’t know you.”  That is all true and again, logical.  Nevertheless, my leg feels like a chew toy.  But the edits aren’t here yet, so as Scarlet O’hara would say, “I’ll think about that tomorrow.”  Now it is time to get back to the detailed work on book 5.  Until next time, watch out for unfriendly dogs.

What makes for the best characters in books?  That’s a secret formula which some authors have mastered and others only wish to.  So, let’s take a closer look at this.  A first you might say that you have to like them.  That is true but some of the best characters are hated.  Look no further than Darth Vader in the Star Wars movies.  Vader was hated and feared by most people but I for one loved him as a character.  He was cool!  Even members of the Empire feared him.  Maybe detail is the secret to a good character.  No; while it helps, you can describe a person for pages and they’re still not liked.  So, it must be identifying with the character; right?  People certainly like someone they can relate to in a good book.  This is a tricky one because most of the time your character will only relate to a small sliver of the reading public.  To combat this some writers, use the shotgun approach.  They bombard you with characters and figure one of them will relate to the reader.  It does work quite often but it makes for a confusing read.  Actually, the secret formula is a combination of things; including the subjects above.  As much as I hated him, I liked having Darth Vader in the Star Wars films.  How boring would it have been without him there?  A good description never hurts; especially if they change throughout the story.   Identifying with a character in the book is a sure-fire way to keep someone reading.  Sometimes the reader is intrigued by characters they could never relate to in life.  The best characters in books are chosen by the reader and the formula is a blend of these topics and more.

Rander pulled a second arrow from his quiver and fired again at the fleeing game.  The arrow struck a deer in the hind leg and knocked it to the ground.  Bleeding badly, the animal tried to get to its feet and resume running.
Not wanting to lose the precious meat, Rander dropped his bow, drew a knife and slid down the tree to finish his task.  As he neared the fallen game, he noticed that it was not looking at him as it tried to escape.  It was looking back at the woods it had just left.
Rander stopped next to the deer and turned curiously to look at the woods as well.  All he saw was a charcoal-colored blur as he was knocked to the ground.  An immense pain came from his leg moments later.  He looked down to see his entire calf lodged in a Trogo’s mouth.  It shook its head back and forth so hard that the motion lifted Rander off the ground.  With one last swing of the head, it threw Rander several paces in the air before he landed and rolled to a stop.
The wounded elf was in shock and looked about for the beast.  To his horror, more creatures than he could count had entered the clearing and were surrounding him.  They growled and snarled as they moved closer.  Time seemed to creep as Rander awaited the attack.  He screamed for help, but his voice was overcome by the sounds of the Trogos. Having sized up their prey, the one with Rander’s blood in his mouth attacked first.
Having lost his knife during the attack, there was little Rander could do except put his arm in front of his face and close his eyes. The sound of the barking suddenly stopped as a low-pitched whine came and went in an instant.  Immediately following it was a loud yelp from the Trogo near him.
Uncovering his eyes, Rander saw the Trogo spinning in a circle, trying to remove an arrow from its side.  It had hit near the ribs, but did not dig deeply into his thick hide.  Another Trogo came close and snapped the arrow’s shaft.
It was about that time that another arrow struck the same wolf.  It struck in the hindquarter, but again, did little damage.  A third arrow totally missed the target and lodged in the ground.
The pack spread out and did not take long to locate Bander in his tree.  They left Rander and the deer behind as they surrounded the tree and began barking at its host.  The beasts demonstrated remarkable agility as they leapt nearly to the branch where he stood.
As the terrified elf drew back his bow, one of the trogos caught hold of his boot at the apex of its jump and tore it from his foot as it fell.  The incident knocked Bander on his belly.  He struck his head on the wide branch but had the sense to hold on to it.  In order to grab the branch, however, he was forced to let go of his bow.  It fell to the ground, where it instantly became a chew-toy for the trogos.
Realizing he was within reach of his adversary, Bander tried to return to his feet.  The action was too late however, as a wolf jumped for his dangling arm.  Bander could see the jaws coming near as if it was happening slowly.
Just as the teeth were about to strike, a high-pitched whine preceded an arrow slicing through the great animal’s neck.  The arrowhead stopped only after exiting the far side of the skin.  With a horrible yelp, the beast fell to the ground and moved no more.
The other members of the pack and Bander looked down the clearing.  Linvin stood in front of Rander, panting, as he fired another arrow.  It struck a Trogo in the chest and embedded itself deep into the innards of the wolf.
With a great howl, the one who had bitten Rander led the others on a charge.  They spread into a bird-like formation with two wolves to each of the leader’s sides.  Linvin gazed upon the wall of teeth bearing down on him and stood his ground.  With lightning speed he fired shaft after shaft at the attackers.  Two struck the leader.  One wedged in his shoulder while the other hit dead center in his left eye.  Its head immediately hit the ground while its body catapulted over the head before landing lifeless.  With their leader dead and two others wounded or dying, the remaining Trogos decided to save themselves and scattered to the nearest thicket of trees.
Linvin stood ready to fire even after the wolves were gone.  As the howls grew fainter, he could finally turn his attention to his cousins.

I once was told the best song writers are poets.  I was a drummer and tried my best to write songs.  An important thing became clear to me…I’m no poet.  Reflection on that time long ago leads me to wonder…what makes a great writer?  I have given the matter some deep thought.  I drank an entire soda while contemplating the issue.  How many times have you started a book and found yourself part way in before asking yourself, “Why am I reading this?  This is boring.”  Sadly, I have felt this way many times.  Then I harkened back to something my late father told me.  He was a writer and editor.  It was his opinion that the best writers were storytellers.  I came from a large family where family gatherings were crowded. (I think I would still sit at the kid’s table if I were to go.)  During and after the meal stories would be exchanged on everything from politics to religion.  It was always quite clear who knew how to tell a good story and who did not.  My father always captured the attention of the entire table when he spoke.  I called it, “Running the Table” I never appreciated his skill while I was young but in my later years learned it and was a hit at parties and get-togethers for me.  Fortunately, I managed to express my appreciation of his skill before his death.  But the memories proved his point.  The best writers are good storytellers.  They know how to captivate an audience, when to pause, and when to lead you along.  Those are books you don’t want to put down.  They’re the ones you recommend to friends.  Thank goodness Dad spoke loud enough for me to hear him at the kid’s table.   

In my post yesterday, I gave you an excerpt of Linvin arguing with the noblemen in the country of Valia.  I was particularly proud of the scene.  Linvin starts out as a pure military man.  When he returns to Sartan to run the family merchant empire he realizes that he must change in order to be successful.  He must deal with merchants, bankers, accountants, lawyers, and even a king who thinks a war is a dispute between rival companies.  Linvin successfully puts his violent past behind him and concentrates on business.  He picks it up quickly and soon has the company running better than ever.  At last the point of the story appears and he must seek the Red Sapphire.  The genius of his military background and the patience learned in business will be put to the test on the quest.  He’s a multidimensional character.  Linvin makes his mistakes and has errors in judgement but overall learns from them.  By the first book’s conclusion he has conqurred his inner demons and has his party firmly under his command.  He grows a long way throughout the book and leaves you wanting more.

As the men made a tight circle around the general, one brought his face right before Linvin’s and said, “We are the ones who took this nation from a bunch of farmers and fishermen to the foremost trading nation in the world.  We are the envy of the world.  So don’t think a victory such as yours gives you the right to come in here and insult us, General.  Heroes come and go, but noblemen always remain.”
Linvin’s first thought was to thrash the fat bureaucrat to near death, but he showed restraint in his muscles that did not carry over to his lips.
“You are skilled businessmen, to be sure.  However, your ears are so accustomed to listening for the sound of dropping coins that they do not recognize common sense.  For years I have told you that the army was too small.  For years I have warned that a serious invasion was on the horizon, yet my warnings and petitions to raise a larger army were ignored.  We had a tremendous amount of time to prepare over the years, yet the army actually shrank.”
“No one wanted to join the army!” yelled one of the men.  “Why take time from the monetary pursuits to become a soldier?  There’s little profit in it.”
“And who would join the army?” asked another.  “Between the merchant ships, navy, and farms, we hardly have enough people to do the work.  We cannot afford to waste manpower in the army.”
“Waste!” Linvin yelled.  “What waste would have befallen this country if I had failed?  Every man, woman and child would have been slaughtered.  Homes and fields would be burned.  Any survivors would have become slaves.  Now you call preventing such a thing a waste of manpower?”
“You argue against yourself,” a nobleman said.  “You proved us right.  All this time you have asked for more men and yet you had ample forces to complete your task.  You are an anomaly, my good general.”
“And how many men fell, who would have lived, if there had been reinforcements?” Linvin asked.  “How many more would have lived if they had not had to fight 3 days without rest?  How many would have lived if we could have permitted the enemy to withdraw, rather than risking everything to destroy them utterly.  The number is not known.  What is known is that there would still be an army protecting this country instead of the few who still breathe.”
“Quiet your tongue!” snapped a nobleman.  “You say too much!  You see everything as black and white when there is an obvious gray area.  Even if reinforcements were available, you have no idea of the cost associated with their hire and training.   Those are costs, boy, that you do not see but we must live with.  Think about that the next time you forget your place!”
The king hung his head and covered his eyes.  A line had been crossed and the other side would be ugly.
Linvin was pushed too far.  His eyes caught fire when hearing his new title.  In one quick movement, he grabbed the man by the throat with a single hand and lifted him off his feet.  Linvin drew him close with ease.
“Now listen to me, you pompous, arrogant sack of flesh,” Linvin said in a firm monotone.  “Your life exists under the freedom I provide.  Your words dictate that I remove that freedom.”  Linvin’s hand began to squeeze.
“That is enough!” the king ordered.  “Linvin, release him at once.”

The cursor blinks on the white screen.  It’s waiting; no, taunting me to type.  And so, I begin.  Not long ago someone told me that I put too much detail in my books.  At first the comment stung.  I take great pride in providing detail for my readers.  One of the things I hate in a novel is too little detail.  I’ll read books where you have no idea what the room looks like or how the character is feeling.  As a writer, I like to set the stage for my readers.  I want them to be able to imagine a room to its smallest detail and know exactly what’s going on with the character.  The details bring the story to life.  I’m not holding back your imagination.  I’m giving it more fodder to create an image.  I looked through my reviews and could find no examples of readers disenchanted by my attention to detail.  It’s kind of like saying there’s too much cheese on your pizza.  Unless you’re lactose intolerant you can’t have too much cheese on your pizza.  Likewise, unless you lack the patience to read the details they only add to the story.  Perhaps there are different points of view out there.  If you feel differently then let me know.  I love to hear from my fans.  Until next time, love what you read and read what you love.