Tag #writinglife

Why I Write: What Writing Is and Has Been to Me

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

This essay was written from a prompt during my local weekly writing group. It coincides with the QOTD for author Sacha Black’s Author Life #WritersofInstagram July challenge. I think it’s beneficial to examine motivations every once in a while, this was an opportunity for me to do so. I hope you enjoy it, and leave any comments below, I’d love to hear them.

Writing has been present in my life at different times and under different circumstances. I discovered an affinity for it somewhat in sixth grade when I was assigned my first research paper. My topic was Irving Berlin; a topic I had no real interest in, though I still learned much about the man and his accomplishments.

But I learned more about the process of writing.

That was when the process of research-outline-write according to outline-revise-submit was the accepted method. And being someone with high Strategic strength according to the Gallup Strengths Test, it worked very well for me. In fact, I kept the same process throughout high school and into college.

That was forced writing- done because I had to. My English professor in college told me that I wrote very well, and that it seemed to come easy for me, that he found a fluency and confidence in my work. At the time, I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant, but the comment stayed with me as a bolster when I needed it.

Once I graduated, I didn’t need to write any longer. My hands were tied up in soil, plants, and garden tools.

I journaled off and on, here and there, but never for any length of time. The exception to that being when I was in Ireland. I did keep an almost daily journal of that nine months for the express purpose of recording all of what I did, felt, and experienced there. It is one of my most cherished possessions, even today.

It was only three years ago that I decided I wanted to write my own novel after a book- A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness- had a real impact on me. I fell in love with everything about it, and have done so again since then with the Shades of Magic series by V. E. Schwab. Both of these ‘book hangovers’ have only reinforced my main motivation for writing- to give someone else the same feeling those influential books have given me.

There is a quote out there in the internet world that says something like “Don’t give up writing, maybe someday YOU will be someone’s favorite author.” That whole idea drives me. Very little apart from grand architecture and works of art truly survive through time like the written word. In some way, I think we all want to leave an impression, and this is how I’d like to. So I guess I’m writing to make a mark.

[Isaac] Azimov said he ‘thinks through his fingers.’ I can understand that, but my fingers have no hope of keeping up with my mind. One of my biggest challenges of writing is getting what I’m thinking down on the screen before it’s gone. By the time the sentence is finished printing, my mind is three thoughts ahead. I’ve even wondered if my fingers have some sort of memory of their own, honestly.

But that’s not to say that I know every line that makes it to the page ahead of time, or even that I know what my characters will actually do. I know their major actions, but not necessarily all the little steps in between.

For example, I started writing a short story a few months ago for an online competition. I had the prompt, and the max word count, so I started in on an outline. That went fine, too. Then I sat down to write. I read the opening scene of this story to my weekly writing group, it involved a dragon chase. When I got to the second scene, two characters jumped up and interjected themselves into the mix, and I had no idea where they came from. My fingers went along with them anyway.

That story is now finished but did not make it to submission. From a starting word count of 5000, it burgeoned to over 9000 words when it was done. Those two characters insinuated themselves into the story and took it into depths I hadn’t planned for, but which I really love. It may still make it to another submission, but I also think it will make a great reader magnet and prequel explanation to the novel series. It was not wasted time or energy.

Many writers say they write to let the stories inside them out, to give them life. This short story has been an example of that for me as well. When I’m in character, the words flow and my mind shows me all of the scenes in crystal clarity as we go, it’s almost like a trance. Then I have to go away and do other things for a while, because it is exhausting, despite the exhilaration I feel for being a vampire (in that story), or my magically-endowed protagonist while writing.

I guess I write to create something lasting, I hope, and to exercise my creativity. To be someone or something else for a while, and to paint the images in my mind in words someone else can interpret their own way. The mind is an amazing tool, so complex and unique. Did you know there are people who think in images and others who think in words? I can’t fathom thinking in words, my inner monologue is too full of images and color. Through writing, however, I can communicate with that other mind in their own language. That to me is reason enough to write, and why writing and human authors will never fade away.~

©Aime Sund and Red Leaf Word Services 2021. All Rights Reserved

 

Insecure Writers Support Group April Post

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener 1 Comment

The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer – aim for a dozen new people each time – and return comments. This group is all about connecting!

Let’s rock the neurotic writing world!

Our Twitter handle is @TheIWSG and hashtag is #IWSG.

April’s question is: Are you a risk-taker when writing? Do you try something radically different in style/POV/etc. or add controversial topics to your work?

*Image by mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

When I first glanced at the prompt I thought “No, I’m not a risk-taker in my writing.”

But then while pondering it further, perhaps I am somewhat. I don’t think of it as risk-taking, more like trying to make myself stand out in the sea of fantasy writers and bloggers. Building an audience is all about standing out and getting noticed, as is all the marketing I do for my freelance editing business. And is standing out risky?

It sure can be.

Well, it is to me, as I’m sure it is to many followers of this group (the word ‘insecure’ is what draws us together, right?). But it is also something I MUST do if I want to be a successful business owner and author.

Like many fantasy authors and game players, I have created a fantasy world where my stories will take place.

I say ‘will’ because they aren’t written yet. There. I said it. I’m going to write stories.

Even saying this feels risky to me. I’ve just put it in writing that I’m going to write novels. What if I never get to?

Honestly though, I have enough of the story on paper that there is no way I can’t write the books now. I’m dying to.

On to risk number 2. The blog series is written in the first person, from the perspective of the narrator who is doing the traveling, but she is telling the story to an audience (the readers) actively. Throughout the narration she ‘breaks the fourth wall’ and talks to the audience, giving them candid info about the scene or episode or answering questions they pose to her (the questions are implied in the answers).

It’s not a typical construction, but I need it to be more than boring blog posts talking about a fantasy land. It needs a purpose, a reason, and to be more conversational. What’s more conversational than someone discussing their travels to a foreign land and answering questions about it? It works well enough for me writing it, I can only hope it works for the reader.

Risk number 3. I suppose some of the idiosyncrasies within my fantasy world could be considered risky. For example, it is a matriarchal society. Heredity is through the female line for rulers, family lineages, and names, and the offspring remain with the mother’s family until they are at least 9. Marriage exists, but it rarely happens. There is no reason for two people to be only together.

There is no worship system, no houses of worship, no gods. Only what the people interact with on a daily basis- sky, earth, sun, moon.

I have a difficult time terming these points as ‘risky’ because it is fiction, and fantasy at that. There is the real risk that some readers won’t identify with it enough to read it, which is ok. That’s what target audiences are for.

Risk inherently implies that there is a reward. I am rewarded when I write the story and see it come to life on the page, and I can be rewarded if readers consume it and enjoy it also. Growth and change come about through risk. Without it, it can be difficult to move forward in life, business, career, in many things. Maybe my risks aren’t earthshattering, but for me, they still seem large. And I’ll keep taking them.

Reblog — Thinking Fiction: The Book as an Object — An American Editor

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

This topic caught my eye while I was scrolling. I enjoyed the discussion about the phases a manuscript goes through as it passes to different people on the publishing journey. We all believe our writing to be a part of us, but isn’t the idea that it becomes “real” only once someone else has read it a bit ironic? The section about the author-editor relationship and how an editor views a book is informative—something to be kept in mind when you send your work out. Well worth reading for writers and editors, enjoy!~

Carolyn Haley Writing a novel has often been likened to having a baby. The analogy is apt, in terms of gestation, obsession, pain, thrill, frustration, and all that goes with the long-term development of a new life. Less often discussed is what happens later in the process, when it’s time to push the fledgling out […]

Thinking Fiction: The Book as an Object — An American Editor

Nyssa’s Nuggets

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

“Start the day with something you love.”

Nyssa has two favorite times of the day—walk times and feeding times, both of which occur twice daily. Isn’t she lucky?

Since she was old enough, I have taken her for a walk first thing in the morning. Many people say it helps a dog merge into the day easier if they go out to “patrol” their surroundings first. It seems to work fairly well in the 25 years I have been doing it with seven different dogs.

We speed-walk three-quarters of a mile down the street because she can’t wait to get to the furthest point away from the house that I will go. Then we amble back, or rather I tow her back. She truly loves her walks, no matter when they happen.

When we return, she has her food and then settles in to perhaps play a little, but certainly nap the morning away. All is good.

I find the early morning walks energizing as well. It helps to set the tone of the day, or bring to my attention what my tone is so I can correct it, if need be. It gets my muscles moving and my brain working. I rarely have any sleep fog lingering after the first couple of minutes down the road.

It also gives me the opportunity to witness some truly amazing celestial moments and gorgeous sunrises. Because the traffic gets busy very early around here, we are always walking in the hour or so just before dawn.

The quiet is perfect for a morning mind-sort.

So though at times I rail against morning walks in my mind, (think winter and rain), I do enjoy them.

The open promise of what the day can become is so tangible in those hours before dawn. Starting the day this way has been part of half my life now, so it must be something good.

It gives you more of an opportunity to enter the editing day with a sunny outlook.

Or if you write, getting your own words down first can make the difference between finishing your book and not. You are, after all, your number one customer, right?

Put yourself first and do something that makes you feel good before sitting down to better someone else’s work. Mindset is everything.

Do you start the day with something that makes you feel good, feel strong, feel positive? Try a walk one warm morning, and I guarantee you will feel uplifted the moment the birds start singing while the sky changes color in burgeoning silence. Or get that next paragraph written, or master that yoga stretch. A few little endorphins patrolling around your brain and you will be ready to take on that block of text you gave up on last night.

Shake off the sleep, wake the muscles, drop off the dregs of yesterday, and walk home with a spring in your step and your tail curled high on your back. Like Nyssa does. Akitas do know best.

Have a great week! Woof woof roooooo!~ 🐕‍🦺

What is your morning routine, does it start with something that makes you feel good? If not, would you like it to? Let me know in the comments below 👇🏼, maybe we can help each other better our mornings.😊

If you’d like to get more editing tips for your own editing endeavors, subscribe to the Red Leaf Word Services newsletter and get your copy of my 15 Tips for Self-Editing checklist.

You can find the checklist popup at www.redleafwords.com, or use this link here to sign up and get your copy! You may even get more of Nyssa in the newsletter too 😉.

©2021 Red Leaf Word Services. All Rights Reserved.

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #23

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! Daylight savings time has ended in my corner of the world, and that means evenings are useful once again! Ostara is around the corner, too, marking equal day and night length. The energy of the season is rather frenzied, my animals are ecstatic to be spending more time outside without ice.

In other news, I’ve been working on a couple of short stories for contests and an anthology. They are both set in Ereth, I’ll keep you updated on how they do and where you may be able to find them in the future.😉

The next issue of Collata⚡ comes out this weekend, so if you want to see what being a Nightingale is all about, join us with the link that follows the episode. Hope to see you there!~

Elahna and Ivy had just made their way upstairs to their rooms at the end of the last episode. That is, after a healing soak in the hot pool and an unexpected proposition. Elahna was surprised and sheepish, Ivy rather unimpressed. What will the morning bring? Let’s find out!~

*Image by LoggaWiggler from Pixabay

I woke the next morning to the sounds of creaking and then a splash, which made me sit bolt upright. My head outpaced my body some in the movement and I clasped it to slow the bobbing images, then fell back against the pillow. I hadn’t had cider in some time, apparently Lissa’s batch had more of an effect than I had thought it would. But at least the splash hadn’t been directed at me. I sat up, slower this time, and peered out the open window.

Below, Scosy was drawing water from the stone well, transferring it into a large wooden cask that sat on a low cart.

*Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

The air was heavier than the evening before with the distinct earthy tang of evergreen forest. Tendrils of ground fog threaded through the tree trunks beyond the inn’s grounds. I fumbled in my discarded clothes for Aymur’s timepiece. It showed being in the fifth erdur. Well, at least I hadn’t overslept.

I watched as Scosy finished his task, hung the well bucket on a hook next to the winch handle and set off toward the stables with his bounty. It was good to know the horses would be well-tended before we left. Time then to see about myself.

After a meager breakfast of two glorious slices of toasted homemade bread with butter and some dark fruity jelly, I made a visit to the stables to check on the horses. Scosy hurried in when he saw me enter, a stricken look on his face.

“I wasn’t sure when ye would be settin’ out, miss, ‘pologies for not havin’ ‘em ready.” He grabbed for Revel’s stall door, but I held up my hand to stay him.

“Morning Scosy, no need to scramble. Ivy has to look at the center tree, we will be a bit yet. I trust he’s been good for you? No trouble?” I nodded at Revel, who munched contentedly on some extremely fragrant hay.

“Oh no, miss, he’s been a peach. No trouble at all.” His words trailed off as he shifted to look around me at something outside.

*Image by こうこう きちでん from Pixabay 

I turned to see Ivy striding across the yard toward the road and the center tree, I assumed. Scosy didn’t even seem aware of my presence any longer, so I stepped back out of his way. I recalled Lissa’s comment last night about the boy’s infatuation and felt a pang of sadness for him.

I trailed after Scosy, who lagged well behind Ivy as she strode toward the center tree. It was a magnificent specimen of a planetree. The camouflage colors of olive, gray, cream, white, and sage green cloaked the massive trunk in ribbons of brightness amid the morning shadows. Lissa hurried out the front of the tavern, joining Ivy, who gazed up at the canopy.

*Image by JamesDeMers from Pixabay 

A stoutish man in a busy red, black, and green plaid shirt and caramel-colored trousers approached at a determined pace from the upper right of the Shoe. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows and the open buttons of his shirt allowed a forest of dark hair sprinkled with wood shavings to precede him by two inches at least. I had to stifle a giggle behind my hand. The man must be furred like a bear under the shirt, I thought to myself, but then quashed the idea, because what if there were bear-men here? Bigger curls of wood and more shavings clung to the canvas panels tacked onto his trousers above the knees. He must be a finish carver or something, definitely one who works wood with tools, not saw blades.

He nodded a brusque greeting at Lissa and the few other townsfolk who had gathered, setting the unruly nest of wavy hair on his head bobbing. “Elements be, Miss Ivy, well met. Lissa said you’d be out to have a look at our tree afore you set out. I’m much obliged.” He brushed wood dust off his hand after raising it in greeting.

“Elements be, Porter. Has there been something ailing the tree recently? It definitely appears less vigorous than I would expect.”

“We dealt with a bout of anthracnose last anid, but by autumn, it was looking well again.”

“This tree has a dryad, am I correct?” Heads nodded.

“But no one’s seen her for a while. The lads have been out in the forest blocks, I just haven’t had a chance to ask them to speak with her.”

Ivy nodded once in understanding. “I’ll try to get her to come out so I can ask her what she knows.”

I stepped closer to the gathering, but still on the outside edge, and watched Ivy place her palm against the trunk. After a moment, she stepped back, her gaze following something I couldn’t see. Then she gasped and held both her hands out as if to catch a baby bird.

I glanced around at the others in the group, whose faces all had tightened with concern. But they looked at Ivy and not her hands, so I surmised they couldn’t see the dryad either.

Ivy cocked her head slightly and said softly, more for her audience’s benefit than the dryad’s I wagered, “Show me, what ails you and your tree?” Her lips firmed into a line as she studied her hands, then she looked upwards into the canopy. “Is there an air weaver in town that can float me up?” She fixed Porter with eyes that brimmed with urgency. “She is very weak, but she shows me tunnels and chewing. There must be borers somewhere. I need to go up and look.”

“Ah, yes,” Porter pivoted to face Scosy. “Lad, run and find the Verticx chap. They may not have left for the blocks yet. Hurry!” Scosy jolted into movement, his gangly limbs propelling him down a side lane into the forest. “Is she in any danger?” Porter continued, “Can we do anything?”

“Do you have an Orderly? Some ginseng would help her vitality. We may need to make poultices to draw the borers out as well.”

*Image by whaltns17 from Pixabay 

A woman in a sky blue and pale yellow plaid scurried off up the left leg of the Shoe. Ivy remained focused on her cupped hands, her brow creased with worry.

I admit, it was strange watching Ivy attend to something I couldn’t see. And honestly, it made me feel a bit better knowing the others couldn’t see the dryad either. I knew that Lissa had some wood magic though, and I assumed Porter did as well, so there must be a threshold of ability that allowed someone to see the dryads. I did wish to see what one looked like.

No, at that point I wasn’t sure what the nature of the dryad-tree bond was, but I did ask Ivy later when we were underway. Dryads live in and on their trees, and they take on some aspects of them as their appearance. She said this dryad had skin that mirrored the tree’s, but that it was brittle and flaky and had become a slate gray instead of multi-colored. The creature’s hair was dry and crumbly and she felt slack like a wilted stem. I could tell she was very concerned for the dryad, but honestly felt that the ginseng root the woman returned with would help her immensely.

Scosy returned in half an hour or so with a silver-haired man who had very long pointed ears, the most elf-like ears I had seen yet. He was fairly tall, and very slight, but somehow managed to take up space within the gathered crowd. Ivy greeted him and told him what she needed. He smiled, nodding in agreement, and made a circular motion with his hand, the palm facing downward. A sharp breeze sprang up and the loose dirt and pebbles in front of him began to spiral around. Next thing I saw was Ivy step up into air, but obviously onto something. The elf joined her, and they rose straight up toward the branches, some sixty feet above. I bit my tongue to keep from drawing attention to myself.

They spent about ten minutes aloft, circling the trunk and examining three areas closely. Ivy confirmed the presence of borers and a secondary infestation of lacebug when she landed. She said the trunk was weeping in the three places she and Leverett had lingered at and prescribed poultices of tobacco leaves to be applied every few days, making sure the mash filled the tunnels.

“Leave a piece of ginseng root out for the dryad every tertia or quarta anar* for the next anos too. Whoever goes up with Leverett can also spray the lacebug with a soap solution. Just to lessen the pressure on the tree so it can heal. Send word to Aymur for him to visit in seisla aneks and check progress. I’ll recheck it on my return from Irillo as well. Hopefully I can perform some bark healing on the wound sites then.”

“Many thanks, Ivy. We will see it all gets done. Safe travels to Irillo, and give Sawyerset’s regards to the Regna. Elements be.” Porter ambled away back up the road, wood shavings littering his wake.

We returned to the tavern with Lissa to gather our belongings and say our farewells. She stood, shaking her head with a wry grin on her face, watching her son bustle about our mounts in the stable yard when we alighted from the back stairway. “Ah Ivy, you’ve saddled me with a mournful puppy for the rest of th’ anar. Look at him, his feet ‘ave barely touched the ground since you told him to make ready. You sure you don’t want ‘im to tag along, you’d only have to say the word.” I heard the mirth, but also the concern in her remark.

Ivy started to reply but Lissa cut her off with a waved hand, “I do jest with ye. He’ll be ‘imself again on the morrow. I do wish he had more of my wood skills, but evidently not so. Sawyerset isn’t the place for ‘im. The horses is what he gravitates toward, I’ll have to put out a word for him. Maybe some bigger inn could use a stable hand and he could work his way up. Quindecca isn’t too young to be settin’ himself up for later on.”

“I could ask when I’m in Irillo. Perhaps even inquire in Forelore’s stables. I can vouch for him, so that is more than a blind query.”

“Would ye do that? I’d be much obliged to you. And I won’t breathe a word to Scosy unless there’s something for him.”

“Of course, I’ll report back on my return, or send a message if there is something before. Do you think he’d be willing to go at any point?”

‘Oh, I’m sure he would. If he could work in a busy stable, my boy would be right at home. Almost as happy as seein’ you.” We all shared a laugh and a smile, said our thanks, and parted ways at the kitchen door.

Let’s leave off here for today. In case you are wondering, Ivy did indeed find a place for Scosy, in Forelore’s stables no less. They were happy to have another hand with horse ability on staff. I saw him at one point out in Irillo as part of a foal training unit. He seemed very content and at home. Lucky boy, but I’m sure Lissa missed him. And it was good to know Ivy was true to her word.

*anek = week, anar = day, anos = month, anid = year

I’m sure there are many arborists out there who would love to have levitating abilities to diagnose tree canopy issues. I was impressed with that, for sure. It was also interesting that we have the same problems with planetrees and sycamores here that the Center Tree suffered from. But no dryads. Poor Scosy, though, I thought about saying something, but I didn’t want to get involved. Would you have said anything? Have you been in a similar situation and not done anything? Drop a comment below about your experience or let me know how your spring is going 😀. See you next time!~

Wanna be a part of Huphaea? Subscribe to Collata⚡, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter! Then you will be part of Eleanorah’s troupe of Nightingales, privy to extras and fun facts from this fantastical land of magic and elven kind once a month. You can join here:

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©2021 Eleanorah Starr and Red Leaf Word Services. All Rights Reserved.

Reblog — 11 Techniques for Transforming Clichéd Phrasings — WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

One of the editing tips I recently posted on my social media channels for Red Leaf Words Services had to do with rephrasing clichés in your own unique way when you want to use the basic idea. This post from the informative ladies at Writers Helping Writers shows you how to do just that. Your readers will thank you!~

One of the things that pumps me up the most when I’m reading a book is when the author phrases things in a way I’ve never seen before. It could be a familiar concept or image—red hair, an urban street, fear—but when it’s written differently, I’m able to visualize that thing in a new way,…

11 Techniques for Transforming Clichéd Phrasings — WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #22

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! Are the signs of season change cropping up around you? We are in a bouncy weather pattern of random days below freezing in between seasonable days in the 40’s. It’s annoying for wardrobe choices, I’ll admit, but it is keeping mud season somewhat at bay. For now. March is certainly my least favorite month of the year.

The signs of spring are burgeoning, though, birds are singing, maple sap is running, and my turkeys are getting restless 🦃. And we change the clocks soon! That is certainly a highlight of spring! Let’s head back to Huphaea now, where it is already warm and sunny, shall we?

When we last left Ivy and Elahna, they had just finished having a pitcher of cider with Lissa, the tavern-keeper, and were heading off to the bathhouse. Sounds perfect, doesn’t it?~

*Image by MeHe from Pixabay 

During the bustle of the evening downstairs a few other boarders had claimed rooms upstairs. Partially open doors allowed the sounds of luggage being wrangled and tired travelers to accompany us down the hallway. Ivy un-barked our doors and I shucked off my sandals, happy to be out of their dusty, gritty soles. I fished around in my sack for a few clean items to don after the soak and we headed back out to the bathhouse.

The water was crisp and clean and blissfully warm. I sunk into it, knowing it would be difficult staying awake with the gentle sounds and rhythms of the bubbling water.

“Do you know many people here in Sawyerset?” I asked.

“Some, but certainly not all. It’s difficult not to know some, what with our towns being joined by the Saywer’s Run, the mills, and that we all manage the forest together. Many of us at Rosewood have talents that are particularly beneficial to forestry, so we monitor the health of Venrood Forest and help as needed.”

“Makes sense. So how many actually live at Rosewood? I saw maybe twent- er, quinduary people while I was there, are there more?”

“Oh yes. I’m not even sure how many are part of the Scion, really. Many of us are scattered throughout the land using our talents where they are needed. So, for example, there are several other forest tracts in Huphaea which all need managing for production and in general. Those Arboreans that are drawn to those locales may only venture to Rosewood every few years, but they still belong to it and the Scion. They are still part of us.”

“I see. What is your talent, Ivy, if I may ask? I don’t mean to be rude, if it is rude to ask about that. I am a horticulturist at home, so plants and trees are my thing. And you did grow that bark out of the door…”

“I have bark-related abilities. I can enhance bark growth on the southern side of trees for winter protection, sense insect infestations, heal bark wounds, actions like that. I can work with deciduous and evergreen trees, but I have more success with the deciduous.”

*Image by Lars_Nissen from Pixabay 

“Hence why Lissa mentioned the planetree to you?”

“You know the center tree is a planetree?” Ivy smiled at me, and I sensed that I just scored a point or two with her.

“Yes, absolutely. I’ve recognized most of the species we’ve seen. And if not directly, then they fit into an oak family, or a willow family, or something I know. It’s pretty cool, actually.”

“It must be because our worlds are so closely tied that they can support the same forms of life. That would be something to ask the Scholars about.”

“I have to say, though, that everything I see and know here is so much more vigorous than on Earth. That has to be due to the vitae and your magics. Are all individual magics that specific?”

“Many are, yes. It’s what makes each of us unique. I also have the ability to work with color some, as my patris is an Arister. An illustrator, to be exact. So I can match the hue of something to another thing. It is very helpful with wound healing. I can make it look like the tree wasn’t ever injured.” She sat up a bit straighter as she said this, and I surmised that she was quite proud of this bit. To illustrate the point, she gazed at the sky blue bath sheet on the table and taking a lock of her hair in two fingers, turned it the same bright color. That explained the matching braids and leggings I noticed earlier.

“That is amazing!” I said. “I’m sure the sawyers appreciate that ability, as well as the trees.”

“Yes. They do. Both of them. And some of the wood Aristers as well. It makes me feel useful.”

I began to notice some of the riding muscles in my legs heating, almost like I had applied linament to them, and then they tingled almost like they were going to sleep. I fidgeted with the new sensation and noticed Ivy doing the same. “Is there something in the water? My legs are all tingly.” I asked.

*Image by T Caesar from Pixabay 

“Healing stones.” She replied. “After contact with them for some time, they correct imbalances in energy.”

“Seriously? Well, isn’t that handy. Which ones are they?” I started hunting for something that would mark the healing stones as different, but couldn’t see anything.

“No idea. Only those with healing abilities can tell. You could be standing on a mountain of healing rocks and be none the wiser.”

“Wow, that could be good or bad, right? Either way, its pretty excellent right now.”

With sore muscles eased, we climbed out of the pool, dried off, and dressed again for the short walk back upstairs. Outside, leaning against the back wall of the tavern, three of the fellows we met through Lissa were sipping pints and trading jokes, by the sound of their laughter. Ivy shot me a quizzical look, one brow raised, and smiled in recognition. One of them stepped over to open the door, it appeared, but he delayed the motion enough that we had to pause ourselves.

“It was lovely to make your acquaintances earlier, ladies, will you be returning to the tavern for a nightcap now? Allow us to accompany you, the taproom is a fair bit more crowded than before.”

I instantly got a bit uncomfortable, a surge of butterflies rising in my stomach. The buzz of noise from the taproom spilled out the partially open door, and the sharp clink of glasses as the barboy washed them in the giant tub inside indicated the state of the evening. The speaker was still holding the door, smiling.

“I appreciate the offer, but it has been a long travel day. I’m set to retire for the night, with another day on horseback ahead. Glad to have made your acquaintance earlier, as well, and enjoy your evening.” I noticed there was no hint of speaking for both of us in Ivy’s words and her pointed look conveyed that I was expected to answer for myself.

“Oh, no, thank you. I couldn’t hold another drink. I’m ready for some sleep, morning will be here soon. It was nice to meet you.”

“Surely there is still time left to be enjoyed before the sun rises.” The speaker, (I couldn’t remember his name), said, a mischievous wink added to his smile.

“I, um, I’m sorry. I really am tired. Thank you for the offer, though.” I straightened and looked over his shoulder at the door, ready to brush past him if he stood firm.

He didn’t, and gave way for us to pass. “If you find sleep eludes you, the offer stands, and my friend here has room dua down the hall from you. Safe travels, Elements be.” The last was uttered at the bottom of a low, sweeping bow that could have been mocking were I at home, but here it felt genuine and even hopeful?

“Elements be. G’dag,” we replied and stepped through the door, pulling it closed once again. The barboy gave us a slight grin as we headed up the stairs. He had heard the whole exchange, I was sure.

“You could have accepted their offer, if you wished,” Ivy whispered. “If I weren’t truly exhausted, I probably would have. I’m sure it would be a lovely night.”

“Ah, what? Seriously? No, I’m good. Was that what it sounded like? Did they want me, or us, to visit that room?”

“Oh certainly. Did you not consider it? Why would you not, if you were of a mind?” She honestly looked puzzled that I was surprised at such a bold proposition.

“Well, I guess I just wasn’t expecting that, being a stranger here.”

“What does that matter? Don’t you express desires and wish them to be fulfilled?” We were outside my door now, my hand on the knob.

“Sure, but what would be said afterwards? I mean, wouldn’t there be social consequences of acting on those desires? There would be where I come from, if word got out to people I knew.”

Ivy stared at me blankly, the silence stretching into awkwardness. Heavy footsteps fell on the stairs at the other end of the hall and she broke the stare.

*Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay

“You will have to explain the ‘social consequences’ of sharing the pleasure of another’s company and bed to me tomorrow. I am afraid my mind is too tired to make sense of it now. Shall we meet at siesla downstairs?”

“Yes, sounds good. G’dag.” I turned away feeling scolded, hearing her muttered “G’dag” in return.

The bed was soft, and the breeze wafting in the open window stirred the air in the room pleasantly. I was asleep moments after hitting the pillow, despite the crowd noise from below. My last thoughts were of how socially inept I must be for this land. And the dressing down I was likely to get in the morning.

Ivy did end up giving me a good talking to as we rode, and I learned some of the principles of Huphaean society in general. Namely that there was nothing wrong with enjoying the company of anyone you wished to, were they willing. That was the main tenet, however, willingness. Refusal was an absolute and never questioned. She honestly did not understand the concept of judging someone for what they did or who they shared themselves with. Huphaeans believed in enjoying all life had to offer, as much as possible. I had a lot of adapting to do…

In case you are wondering, yes, I did manage to make a bollox of almost every social situation for quite a while… But what’s new, right? Would you have accepted the offer? One thing I was reminded of multiple times is how long it can take to shed prior beliefs and adopt those of the culture you are in. Have you ever experienced that firsthand? Share your cultural adjustments in the comments below, I’d love to hear them.

Wanna be a part of Huphaea? Subscribe to Collata⚡, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter! Then you will be part of Eleanorah’s troupe of Nightingales, privy to extras and fun facts from this fantastical land of magic and elven kind once a month. You can join here:

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©2021 Eleanorah Starr and Red Leaf Word Services. All Rights Reserved.

Nyssa’s Nuggets

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

“I’m suggesting you take a different approach, Cedar.”

Cedar and Nyssa playing

Nyssa rules the roost here. Yes, she is the biggest, but size doesn’t seem to matter very much to Dash, nor to Cedar. Both of them love her to bits and bask in her attention when she gives it to them. She instructed Dash to play the way she wanted him to from day one, even though he is fifty pounds lighter than her. He happily complied and they play beautifully together to this day.

Cedar, on the other hand, is a cheeky, fresh young lad. Nyssa is thrilled she finally has an Aussie that loves her and plays with her (my previous boy, Tristan, tolerated her presence) but she is always suggesting he take a different approach.

Sometimes Cedar takes that advice, sometimes he doesn’t. But they still end up playing and happy nonetheless.

The key takeaway from this exchange is the suggesting.

As editors, we are asked to look at someone else’s work with the idea of helping them improve it. In that light, our feedback takes the form of suggestions.

We don’t have the final say over what is left in, how it is phrased, or even punctuated sometimes.

Which is OK and we have to BE OK with that.

Suggestions leave room for acceptance, further thought, or rejection. (This may not apply as much to copyediting, which does adhere often to style guides and other rules for the finer elements of writing.)

The point is that our outside view to the work gives us the ability to see other layers that could be explored or a different direction to approach an issue from. To encourage more thought on the matter that could benefit the reader down the line.

Suggestions don’t demand a certain outcome. It’s not in their nature.

Even when Nyssa is “suggesting” to Cedar not to do as he is, he still has the option to continue and most times he does. Then when he does accept her offer of an alternate way, they end up playing together far longer than if he’d ignored her suggestion.

We want to feel that our efforts have been worthwhile over the course of a developmental or line edit—it’s a lot of work! And often that is only judged by how many edits are accepted. Does that mean we have failed?

No. In the end, the final decision is not ours. Authors can be attached to a particular phraseology that sets an editor’s teeth on edge, it’s their prerogative. It’s their creation. And all of us writer-editors will certainly reserve that right in our own stead!

It can be very difficult to separate the emotion of the hard work from the feeling of not being heeded. Good communication between the editor and author can ease this disparity, as can remembering that we are using our expertise to suggest.

Editors still have all of those accepted suggestions that were acknowledged and appreciated to fall back on. The old saying is that you can’t please one hundred percent of the people one hundred percent of the time. Authors know this too, or they will find it out in reviews for certain. It’s not all or nothing.

At the end of an editing project, I remind myself that these are my suggestions for where I can see some extra thought or reworking is needed. Through my comments and our converstaions, the author can choose to do with those ideas as they will. The more important part is reaching the goal of the editor-author partnership—publishing the best work possible.

Which probably means we may play together again. Like Nyssa and Cedar.

She isn’t daunted when he carries on, because she knows she has done her work in communicating her suggestions. It’s then up to him to take them or not. She advises, he asserts and they meet in the middle to carry on and live together well (thankfully for me). It makes their relationship stronger, and it can with authors and editors, too.

By keeping our minds open, our discussions thought-provoking and considerate, and our common goal in mind, we can measure success in more than ‘accepted vs. rejected.’ It seems to work well for dogs, why shouldn’t we consider it? If it means I can eat, sleep, and play, I’m in. So make your suggestions, try not to be daunted by rejected ones, and keep playing!

Have a great week! Woof woof roooooo! 🐕‍🦺

Fantasy Authors! Have you heard about ProWritingAid’s upcoming Fantasy Week? No?

Do you love writing fantasy? 

Our friends at ProWritingAid have you covered!

ProWritingAid’s first ever Fantasy Writer’s Week will be jam-packed with free events for fantasy authors.

With live sessions from bestselling fantasy writers TJ Klune, Angela J. Ford, David Farland and Stephanie BwaBwa, a world-building workshop, and a complete World Anvil software walkthrough, you don’t want to miss this event!

Register for this free event here: https://prowritingaid.com/art/1571/fantasy-writer-s-week-at-prowritingaid.aspx?afid=8897

*Please note this is an afffiliate link, so I may receive some compensation if you click through here 😉.

Interested in more information about Red Leaf Word Services editing? Please visit my website www.redleafwords.com. It has undergone some reorganization, come on by and check it out!

There is a new service—The First 100 Pages edit. It’s great for getting an idea of how your story works from the beginning so you can continue with a blueprint in mind, or for giving self-editing a start. Even for trying out a new level of editing. You can find more information about it on the For Fiction Authors page at Red Leaf Word Services.

While you are there, you can sign up for the newsletter, where you can get more of Nyssa. ‘Cause she always has more to say, she’s an Akita! Or you can sign up below 👇🏼 and still get the same editing news, offers, and tips.

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©2021 Red Leaf Word Services. All Rights Reserved.

Reblog— What to Expect from an Editor — Writer Unboxed

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

I see this topic come up in conversation in online writing groups constantly. This Writer Unboxed episode provides a solid idea of what to expect from an editor and why we aren’t to be feared. Editors have a genuine desire to help authors improve their craft and see their creativity shine. Many of us are writers too, we understand the discomfort involved, and trust me, we don’t want to perpetuate it in someone else! ~

Letting other people—even those close to you—read your novel for the first time can be stressful. You’ll wonder if they’re going to judge you, if they’ll recognize themselves in there, or if you really want your mother to know that you know about these things. But after the first few times, you get used to…

What to Expect from an Editor — Writer Unboxed

One difference I would note is that where Mr. Dempsey talks about the notations and comments made in “…copy editing and proof reading” stages, at Quill & Orb Press those notations would be part of my line editing and copy editing services.

If you would like to learn more about Quill & Orb Press editing, please visit me here. Enjoy your day!~

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #16

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! Does it seem to you that the months go faster as we approach the end of the year? October has vanished, which means I’ve been too busy to notice it. We have had some odd weather for New England, but also some perfect fall days, which I am thankful for. The foliage colors have been vibrant and long-lasting, as long as there is no wind. But here we are on the week leading up to a full moon on a Halloween Saturday!

*Photo by form PxHere

I wonder how many people still have that candy that appeared in the stores in July…

This is another audio only episode, a continuation of the last and lots of dialogue with not much to illustrate, so audio is the better format. I enjoy making the audio episodes, I hope you find them fun too. Enjoy your week, and Happy Halloween and Samhain. Trick or treat!~

The last audio episode had Elahna returning from a day in Cragbend to meet a Sentient horse, Arlen and become embroiled in a horse-horsemaster disagreement. Arlen won; no surprise, really, she knows her business. Elahna had returned to her room afterward to freshen up for dinner, so we will pick it up there….~

Click the orange arrow to play episode 16…

That was quite a dinner, right? The food in Huphaea was always incredible, it is one of the things I miss most. Do you think Elahna and Ivy will gel on the ride to Irillo, or will it be awkward? At least the horses seem to have things sorted out, thanks to Arlen. I never did find out how young Thorn made out, but I would wager his days got a whole lot more regimented. I have to say part of me wanted to stick around to see his mother, Larix, just because of how Daphne made her sound. But I had bigger things to tackle. It will be on toward Irillo next time!~

Quill & Orb Press, (the fiction part of my word services business), is open to do developmental edits, copyediting, and proofreading for YOU! Fantasy, paranormal, YA, historical fiction, steampunk, and other genres welcome.

“Collaboration cultivates drafts into bookish gold.” 🔮✨✏📚

-Quill & Orb Press

Are you an indie author? I’d love to work with you!

Line editing is on the way! Intermediate level classes start this week and I will be working on refining the special editing eye and ear line editing requires. This level of editing focuses on how an author’s sentences and words create their unique voice and the lyrical flow of the story. It is an intimate exploration that can take a manuscript to the next level. If you’d like more information about line editing or other editing services I offer, click here:

Quill & Orb Press editing

Or you can contact me directly here:

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Remember to subscribe to Collata⚡, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter to get more from this land of amazing food and magic treehouses! This monthly newsletter has extras from Elahna’s story, stuff not seen in the episodes. Click the button and become a Nightingale today!

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©2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press. All Rights Reserved.