A wild tempest

After a lovely weekend away with my partner and Bentley (who saw the beach for the first time 🙂 ), I sat down to work on chapter six.  And what a scary night!

So, Bentley is off exploring and meeting new friends and, you know, doing what all heroic Jack Russell’s do.  Meanwhile, his town of Appleby has been lashed by a fierce storm the likes of which no one remembers.  Houses have been picked up and shifted to new addresses, trees uprooted, the beach reshaped, the whole nine yards.  Bentley is going to have quite a shock when he comes home.

I think that the storm is a good metaphor for coming together and being there for one another, at least in this story, because the townspeople, as well as the four-legged, winged and eight-legged inhabitants, will band together and rebuild the town with stoic resolve.

After all, isn’t that what communities do?

Back in the saddle

I’m back after over a month of inactivity.

Well, not inactivity, just haven’t been working on the writing.  I’ve been working on new music for my musical project, plus taking care of some things over the Christmas break.

Now I’m back to work, pumped out over a thousand words tonight 🙂 at this rate I’m hoping to be done before the end of April.

So the story so far…Bentley and Cora have been out exploring the Western Forests while a nasty storm gathers to the south of Appleby, which promises to be a storm to remember.

I love writing.  I think sometimes I love writing more than music.  Music is a wonderful thing, but writing is a wonderful means of creating worlds, creatures, people.  Who doesn’t love that?

In other news, I’m sketching ideas for another story series which I will put together over the next few years.  I’m tentatively referring to it as “Industrial Fantasy”.  Should be interesting…

Chapter two first draft

Here’s Chapter Two of my first novel, in which we meet Cora, Bentley’s very best mate in the whole wide world.  As always, leave comments, suggestions etc. :-0

CHAPTER TWO

Appleby is a small town, largely forgotten by the great cities of the land, and in some ways is better off as a result – the fishing remains undisturbed by the great trawling companies, and the sky remains undarkend by the smog of factories.  The town instead gleamed with pride, the streets clean and uncluttered, the water glistening like a tranquil lake of diamonds, and the grass always green.  Summers were moderate and casual, the winters short and cool.  And Oh! Autumn in Appleby is a sight to behold, with apple trees in full bloom and the winterflowers beginning to bloom across the fields.

Bentley trotted into town with his head high, enjoying the sunlight that beamed down over the town.  The spirit of adventure was gripping, and the smile on his face turned out to be infectious, for everyone who walked past him found themselves smiling as they went, and continued to smile all the way home.  Bentley ambled past the blacksmith’s shop, the tailor, and he slowed his pace as he walked past the roof fixer’s house, from which a most wonderful smell of good cooking came floating over him, exciting his nose and tail.

“Bentley!” sang out a voice from behind him.

Bentley turned at the sound to see his very best mate racing from the front door of the furniture maker’s shop, racing down the street to catch up with him.  “Hello there, Cora.” he greeted her with a smile as she approached.

Cora, a white-coated Maltese with ocean-blue eyes, slid to a stop in front of him.  “And what has you in such a mood?  You look like you’ve eaten your fill for a week!”  Cora was an excitable young dog, sometimes a little too much.  But she was wise beyond her years, and always had a way of pulling Bentley out of the clutches of trouble.

Bentley’s smile turned into a ear-to-ear grin, his fine teeth showing in the sunlight.  “I am in a fine mood, my friend.”  he declared, stretching his head high.  “The sun is shining, the breeze is refreshing, and I have the spirit of adventure in my heart.”

Cora giggled, shaking her head at Bentley’s enthusiasm.  “It is a fine day indeed, Bentley, but what’s all this talk of adventure?”  She looked at him intently.

“I’m going on a journey, my dear Cora” Bentley replied, his grin growing wider.  “through miles of the greenest grass you can lay eyes on, and mountains higher than the clouds, oceans as infinite as time.”  He paused and looked northwards.  “The Silver Mountains are the boundary between our lands and the unknown, and I want to see all that I can.  A dog’s life is far too short to see the same stretch of beach and patch of ocean every day for the rest of time.”

“That sounds like a dream” Cora mused, her eyes somewhat downcast.

“Is something wrong?”  Bentley asked, noticing his friends sudden change of mood.

Cora gazed at the mountains far in the distance for a long moment, then looked Bentley in the eye.  “I’m just going to miss you, is all.”  she said finally.  “You’re my very best friend in the whole wide world, and I’ve hardly gone a day without seeing you in my whole life.”  Her eyes gazed downwards, not wanting him to see her despair.

Bentley frowned, realizing he hadn’t thought to ponder what Cora’s reaction to this decision would be.  He was a noble and considerate young dog, but sometimes his spirit got the better of him, especially when the unknown was calling.

He thought some more about what Cora had said.  She had known him since they were pups, and knew his spirit and wondrous nature, and quite often had joined him in exploring the lands around Appleby in search of new adventures.  Between the two of them, they knew every inch of the town and the surrounding lands like the backs of their paws.

But this was different.  Bentley was talking of an adventure of the ages, a quest for wonder so big it could be weeks, even months, before they saw each other again.  And all the dangers in the world could potentially stand in his way.

Then he had it.  “Cora, come with me!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up like a beacon in the blackest ocean.

Cora looked at Bentley in surprise.  “Come with you?” she said, eyes growing bigger, if that were possible.  “Really?!”

“Of course.” Bentley replied, that widest of grins returning to his face.  “I should have thought of this sooner.  Of course I want you to come with me.”  he said, then suddenly grew serious.  “That is, of course, if you want to.”

“Do I want to?  Are the Winterflowers white?” Cora exclaimed excitedly, her tail taking off to an impossible speed.  “Yes, I’m coming with you!”.  And with that, she charged her very best mate in the whole of the world, tackling him to the hard path and playfully wrestling him into a submissive pose.  “As if you could stop me anyway, my dear Bentley.” she added with a mock serious tone in her voice.

“I’ll take that to mean you’re keen on the idea.”  Bentley said dryly as he threw Cora off him and took off down the path towards his master’s home, barking happily and full of purpose, Cora not very far behind him.  They raced each other through the streets of Appleby, laughing with joy.

Adventure!

Some significant progress

Tonight I managed to double the usual word count I write every time I sit down to work- 2,200 words!  Not a bad effort for about two hours work if I do say so myself.

So Bentley has a new friend – all I will say at this point is his name is Arti, and he is a large creature reminiscent of someone who enjoys hunny.  And I will reveal nothing more 🙂

Looking back at my work for the night, I know there will be some significant re-writing when the time comes to edit, but I’m happy with progress tonight.  Still, no hurry, I like to take my time and let things gestate properly.

Thanks to everyone who has followed this blog since I started posting.  Please feel free to share this blog with your friends/co workers/colleagues etc., I would appreciate it very  much.

Prologue and chapter one drafts

Here is the prologue and Chapter One of my first Novel.  This is my first real attempt at serious storytelling, so if it’s rough or doesn’t make sense, hopefully that will come with time 🙂

Enjoy!  Feel free to comment, suggest changes, tell me to give up because I’m no good etc. 😛

PROLUGUE

 

There are many legends in this world.  Tales of old and older still, of dragons that breathe plumes of fire, of enormous underwater creatures, of giants with scruffy beards from far away lands.  Stories, fables, legends all of them.  Some wonderous, some monsterous, some downright unbelievable.  And all are fascinating, sometimes frightening, always compelling to a true listener.

This story is about none of these things.  This is a story of a hero whose height meausres barely the height of a man’s knee, on a good day.  Whose size makes him suitable only for hiding between the toes (and claws) of even the smaller of dragons.

But his stature and featherweight presence are but a keen disguise.   For this hero is the bravest of all mighty heroes, and posesses a heart of the purest gold.  This hero is a Jack Russell with some of the trimmings of a march hare’s ears (though none have been brave enough to point out this particular feature).

His name is Bentley.  Known throughout the land as Bentley The Brave.  And this is his story…

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

The sea breeze in this part of the county is always fresh this time of year, what with the first rains of spring and the cool ocean waters that hide tales of seafarers and adventure.  And above the sand dunes, fields of green grass dotted with red and blue flowers stretch for over a mile, broken only by the occasional path to the ocean’s edge – and, some say, to the edge of the world.

Bentley The Brave, however, was not concerned with the edge of the world today.  That idea was simply to big to consider on such a bright and magical early morning in the spring.  He was more concerned with the seagulls that sat stately and proud on the edge of the small fishing pier in front of him.  Bentley was interested because seagulls are friendly and generous with their food, at least in these parts, and he had an appetite to compete with that of a very hungry dragon.

He stood up slowly, then stretched his long black-with-patches-of-white body just as far as he could, then trotted over to the pier where the seagulls perched, swinging his head this way and that to catch as much of the sea breeze as he could.

“Ho there, birds!” he declared as he stepped onto the pier and approached the birds.  “How is the fishing on this fine day?”

One of the seagulls, older and wiser than his friends, turned his head and peered at the newcomer.  “Slow on this day, young Bentley, and seem in no hurry to change their ways.”  The old bird rustled his feathers in the breeze.  “So what brings you to the edge of the world today, young Bentley?”  The other seagulls chuckled when he said this.

Bentley smiled at the seagull’s joke.  Seagulls and most other birds made jokes all the time to land dwellers who couldn’t fly or live underwater, thus had never been to the edge of the world.  Only the chosen creatures who had wings or gills or a combination of both had broken the bonds of the land for a life in the skies or the sea.

“I crave an adventure, my friends.” Bentley replied, stretching his head high.  “And those paths over the fields only lead so far.”  He sat and contemplated the ocean.  “I am a free dog, born to wander the lands of mountains and fields and trees.”

The seagull nodded sagely.  “Well, my four-legged land dweller, adventure is for both the brave and the foolish.  And I hope for your sake that the first is the best fit for you.”

Bentley regarded the bird with his chocolate-brown eyes.  “That it is, Ares of the Western Skies, that it is.”  He paused, then added with a slight smile “but foolish might just be another name for brave, you know.”  Ares had known Bentley since he was a pup, and looked upon him with great fondness.  Bentley knew he could come to the old bird anytime for advice or a stern lecture, and had done so on many occasions.

Ares chuckled knowingly, the sound emanating from deep within it’s throat.  “It may be, my boy.  So where shall your adventures take you?”

Bentley turned his head and pointed his nose northwards.  “That way, I think.”  he replied.  “North, towards the Silver Mountains.  I’ve never seen beyond the borders of the township and the plains, only pictures in my mind when I listen to the tales of seafarers and the trade caravans.”  He stared longingly at the mountains in the distance, shrouded by mist, the peaks glistening like diamonds in the sky.  “It all sounds like a true adventure for a brave dog like me.”

“Well, my young adventurer,” Ares said, stretching his wings, “I pray that those tales of the Silver Mountains have a happy ending for you, for I have heard of less fortuitous stories from traders and merchants.”

“What tales, Ares?” Bentley wanted to know.

“Tales of strange and horrible creatures, and winds that speed as fast as the rays of the sun.  Coldness that would chill you to your very soul.”  Ares paused.  “But I have heard other stories too.  Of giant bears that have a giant roar but a kind and gentle heart.  And the road to the mountains is said to be as safe as the towns.”  The old seagull gave Bentley a knowing look.  “But if I know you, and I do, you’ll listen to this advice and promptly tuck it behind your ears for later.”

Bentley laughed.  “I may do that, my old friend, but as always I thank you for your council and your advice.”  With that, Bentley stood and stretched his head high once again.  “I may be back to see you again before I leave.”

“I should hope so, young Bentley.”  Ares replied with mock sternness.  “I would be very disappointed if you didn’t.”

Bentley turned back towards town.  “We shall talk again very soon, Ares of the Western Skies.”.  Then he stood, turned and trotted off the pier towards town, swaying his head this way and that to catch as much of the sea breeze as he could.

Ares watched Bentley as he left the pier and trotted over the fields of green grass that separated the ocean and beach from the town.  “Hmm.”  he said to himself, then turned to his friends.  “The Silver Mountains, ey?”

The other seagulls chuckled.  One of them said “It is a brave creature to set foot in those mountains, especially by himself.  I know I don’t possess that type of bravery.”

Ares nodded sagely.  “Yes, by himself.”  He turned his head towards the ocean.  “We shall see what happens.”  Then, with a sharp beat of his wings, the wise old seagull took off from the pier and soared over the ocean, closely followed by his friends.  There was fishing to be done.

The dream begins

I’ve finished the planning stages of my first novel, which is entitled Bentley The Brave.  Bentley, both in real life and in the story, is a brave, adventurous and all-round awesome Jack Russell whom has a dream and a big heart, and will not stand idly by and watch the world pass him in the night.

This is my first novel, so I have little experience with writing (I’m a composer of Trans-Dimensional Impulse Music – check that out at www.nathancarlsonmusic.com.au)  but it’s been a dream of mine to write a novel since I was old enough to read.

Watch this space 🙂