Showing posts with label R.B. Wood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label R.B. Wood. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Interview with R. B. Wood

I had the good fortune of being invited by fellow writer and now publushed author R. B. Wood to participate in his Magical Mystery Blog tour promoting his new book, The Prodigal's Foole. It's a fantastic read, and is being released on October 31st! Below is my interview with him, followed by the book trailer and some links for you to pick up the book. And do so, because it's worth it.






I see that the Prodigal’s Foole is written in 1st person. What made you decide to write in that perspective? 


When I developed the Character of Symon Bryson, I realized pretty quickly that TPF and the entire series needed to be seen from his perspective. 

I’m always curious what other author’s writing process looks like. Care to share yours with my readers and I?

Oh dear.  There is a phrase in US politics I like to use…”You never want to see the sausage being made.” J I build a large arc, the top of which is the ‘climax scene’ and fill in scenes leading to it that tell the story I want.  There is research and a lot of thinking and throwing away of ideas.  I have a general map of where I want to go, but a full outline I find too restricting as sometimes the stories take my in interesting directions and I like to explore those paths.

What was it like working on Prodigal’s Foole with a professional editor, as opposed to working with friends and relatives?

Well, I’m a little lucky in this, as my brother is a phenomenal editor.  He has a wicked red pen, and I’m sure was even more facetious and vicious because it was ‘his little brother.’  That being said, we had GREAT discussions, and collaborations.  A good editor who will work with an author is critical, in my opinion.

Were any suggestions made to you by either your editor or publisher that you were reluctant to incorporate?

 Yep.  Some battles I lost, others I won. 

What criteria did you look for when deciding which agents or publishers to query? 

I looked at agents and publishers (big and small) who represent and publish works similar to mine.  Research is key—and social media helped me to find my way as well.

What made you decide to go with a small publisher like PfoxChase? 

I adore Diane nelson.  She’s funny, harsh, supportive and walks with a big stick if she needs to.  I went indie, specifically because the industry is changing SO quickly, I firmly believe that a cadre of good authors with a small press can really take advantage of the uncertainty in the marketplace.

Are you working on something new now?

Yes…a few things.  Book Two of the Arcana Chronicles.  A SciFi Trillogy and a Comic book series in collaboration with a dear friend and auther from Australia.

Have you ever done NaNoWriMo? How many times? What was it like for you?

Once.  Insane.  I wrote a humongous piece of garbage that had one, maybe two good scenes.  I’ll use them elsewhere in some form.

In addition to writing novels and stories, you also run a fantastic podcast that features other artists, called the Word Count. How do you balance time between writing and the podcast? (The Word Count Podcast can be found here: http://itunes.apple.com/podcast/the-word-count/id392550989 )

Ask my partner..I really don’t do it well.  She keeps me on track.

Do you have stories stuffed in the back of the virtual drawer that will never see the light of day?

Oh GOD yes.  That reminds me…I need to burn those.

Like myself, you’re a regular in #5MinuteFiction. What do you like about it that keeps you coming back? 

Well, I haven’t done it in a while….life has been getting in the way.  BUT I’ll be a judge in an upcoming #5MF, so looking forward to that.  Leah is a dear friend, my crit partner and my sounding board on stories, so not only is it a GREAT way to play with short fiction, but it’s run by someone who is extraordinarily talented herself.  Total win in my book.

Have you always considered yourself to be a writer, or was there a time in your life when you decided that is what you were? 

I’ve always loved stories.  I don’t consider myself a writer…more of a storyteller with a word processor.

Do you have a blog? How do you use it?

www.rbwood.com  I use it it to promote other writers, the podcast, for random musings I want to jot down and eventually to hawk my swag! ;-)

What social media do you use? Do you combine your personal and professional or keep them separate? 

I’m a technology consultant by day, so I  keep that very separate from my writer life…or as separate as possible.  I do have a fan page on Facebook and will eventually transfer all the ‘writer folk’ over to that page and leave my personal page for family and close friends.
Eventually.

What is your favorite electronic or digital writing tool?

My Macbook Pro.  I use Word, Write Skrivner and other tools on the system to help me write.

What is your favorite non-electronic writing tool?

Honestly?  My brain.  There is nothing like taking time away from the keyboard to think. 

What is the most persistent distraction from writing?

My day job.  There is nothing like a ‘9 to 5’ gig in the IT world.

What is your ideal writing environment? Have you ever been able to create it?

GREAT question…I write when and where I can.  I never thought about an ideal environment before.  I’ll get back to you on that one.

Do you think that having a book published now will make you more confident in sending out queries in the future?

I don’t think it will have much of an impact.  If you don’t grow a thick skin quickly, this industry will eat you up.  After the 12th rejection, you really just move on to the next query.

What advice would you offer to new writers out there? 

Read as much as you can.  LISTEN as much as you can.  Get involved with social media because there are millions of authors out there willing and able to give you advice.

Here's the book trailer.


The book can be purchased on October 31st at the following locations:
Smashwords



Amazon Kindle US


Amazon Kindle UK




OmniLit


ManicReader





Amazon PAPERBACK



Friday, April 1, 2011

Flash Fiction Friday: A Horse with No Name

Welcome back once again to Flash Fiction Friday!

This week's entry comes from the prompt for R. B. Wood's podcast, The Word Count. Go check it out, if you haven't yet. Richard is a good guy, a good author, and has a fantastic podcast featuring all kinds of other good authors.

Anyway, this prompt was "take a line from your favorite song and write a story around it."

It's not my all time favorite song, but I do like it, and this story almost wrote it self once I said the line out loud. Keep in mind that this is the first draft of this story, and it's going to get edited before I record it and submit it to the podcast.

In the mean time, please enjoy!

****

A Horse with No Name

“I rode through the desert on a horse with no name,” the stranger said in response to Ahmed’s question.

“Bah!” Ahmed said, his lip curled in a snarl. “No one rides through that desert, not and lives. There is a reason we call it the Land of Death.”

The stranger’s eyes, strangely blank and focused at the same time, turned their attention on Ahmed, burning into his skull, as if the man were looking at Ahmed’s very soul. Ahmed took an involuntary step backward.

“But I did,” he said. “And I found it there. The legends are true.”

“Legends?” Ahmed said, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Then, the man’s words sank in, and his eyebrows lowered, his eyes squinting in understanding. “You don’t mean…?”

“I do,” the stranger said, and then reached into his robes to pull out a long, straight bundle of blankets, as long as a man is tall, and thin, like a pole. Or a spear, Ahmed realized.

“That is it?” Ahmed said. “Are you sure?”

The stranger pulled back the blankets enough for Ahmed to see the spear point. Pure platinum, he could tell even just by looking at it, with a single ruby at the point where the blade met the shaft. And runes, ancient runes of a long dead language, were carved into the metal. He gasped, turned to make sure no one else was looking, then quickly wrapped it back up!

“It is…” he said in a whisper. “It’s he Spear of Time, the one prophesied to be used by the Great Defender in the final battle that will either save or destroy the world."

“Indeed,” the stranger said. “I found it… out there.”

His eyes went glassy. Well, more glassy than before, like instead of looking through Ahmed, he wasn’t even aware that Ahmed was there. The stranger was clearly looking at the past, his recent past.

“I… I can’t remember much,” he said. “The heat. I can’t even remember my own name.”

“The desert does that to people,” Ahmed said. “Go on and tell me what you do remember.”

“I…” The stranger paused. Then, he sat down suddenly, on the dusty ground by the building that held Ahmed’s shop. He leaned his head back against the wall, and for the first time, Ahmed say just how tired the other man looked. The bags under the man’s eyes were swollen and purple, and the hair on his chin was clearly at few days worth of growth. And where before he saw a smelly mess, he now saw a man who had torn clothing and a dirty countenance that came from hardship. Ahmed frowned. Sympathy was not an emotion he was used to, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Suddenly, the stranger’s head snapped back up.

“A city,” he said. “I remember a city… made of… jewels?”

“Ala-mashad,” Ahmed said automatically, thinking of the old stories and prophecies about the so-called City of God, said to be hidden deep in the desert. He stopped before he said anything else. Ala-mashad? The Spear of Time? Legends. These things were not real. This stranger was just… what? A crazy man? A wily merchant, trying to pass off items as legendary artifacts? No. Ahmed didn’t believe that. There was more to this stranger than either of those options. He just wasn’t yet ready to believe that this man before him was the Great Guardian spoken of in the sacred texts.

“I remember… a man… another man… I…” The stranger continued. “I followed him… into the desert… he had committed a crime, I think… I can’t remember his name, either. I followed him, to that strange city where… something happened. Something rose up… a giant snake? and… ate us?”

Ahmed almost opened his mouth again. Dal-Hashad, the world snake, that was said to devour the light and the dark at the beginning of time, and would spit out the Great Guardian and the Dark Agent before at the end of time, when the Final Battle would happen. This man had to be pulling his leg.

“I don’t think…” the stranger said, still looking into that strange past he saw. “I don’t think I’m the same man as the one that went into the desert, the one that was chasing after a criminal. But at the same time, I am he. I have his… memories. Or some of them, at least. And the man I was chasing, he is different, too. After the snake spit us out, we landed on a pile of treasure.”

Ahmed noted that the man’s words were coming faster now. He was obviously remembering more.

“I remember looking at him, this other man, this dark man, and wanting to kill him, as if that were my purpose in life. I reached out to the treasure around me, and grabbed that spear. I struck at him with it, but he too had reached into the pile, and grabbed a shield. A black shield, that appeared to be made from darkness itself. He laughed, then touched the shield and vanished. I left the city, found this house, and rode… here.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back against the building. He looked tired once more. A bone deep wariness, as if he had been walking for a hundred years. Which he could have, from the look of him, Ahmed thought.

“I also found…” the stranger said, fishing around inside his shirt. “This. It was around my neck when I awoke on that pile of treasure.”

He pulled out a small, round pendant and showed it to Ahmed. Ahmed gasped, and took a step backward again. He had to stop himself from taking more. It was impossible. But there it was, the symbol, the chain, everything. Proof that this man was telling the truth. For the pendant was made out of a green materal known as Jade, something that didn’t exist anywhere but in legends. But it had to be Jade? What else was that green color? Touching it, it was no stone that Ahmed had ever seen. Jade. Te Rock of God, they called it. This man before him really WAS the Great Guardian. He had to tell someone.

“I…” Ahmed started, looking from the pendant to the stranger. “I need to… tell someone. The priest, maybe. He’ll know what to do. You, you stay here, inside my shop. You’ll be safe.”

The stranger nodded, and stood up to go inside.

“Take my horse,” he said to Ahmed, who nodded. Without thinking, he got on the horse and rode, fast, toward the temple in the middle of town. The priest, he had to know what to do next. He looked down at the horse. The Horse with No Name, the stranger had called it. When that thought went through his head, Ahmed almost fell off.

The Horse was part of the prophecy too. The horse with no name would bring the Guradian out of the Land of the Dead, and it would also carry the Guardian’s herald, who would bring news of the guardian. It was said in the prophecy that the horse would carry the herald to a great leader, where he would share his news. It was also said that the horse would carry the herald in the final battle, where he would die, sacrificing himself to protect the Guardian.

It occurred to Ahmed that he was that herald. He was right now heading to a great leader, the high priest of the temple, to bring news of the guardian. And e was doing it, riding on a horse with no name. It was almost enough to make Ahmed cry.

A bloody horse with no name.

The End