Utterances of an overcrowded mind

Supporting Authors One Read At A Time - June 2012

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Fri, 01 Jun 2012 14:24:00 +0000

Please Click graphic below to open magazine!

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FREE Ebook - Act Immediately!

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Wed, 30 May 2012 16:46:00 +0000

Would you like one of my books completely free? Of course you would. All you have to do is to sign up for my newsletter (opposite or below) and when you receive this month's copy (June 2012) you will receive an exclusive coupon to download one of my books for FREE!

Every month in my newsletter there are exclusive articles and offers, so what are you waiting for? Now is your chance. Don't delay, the newsletter goes out on June 1st and if you're not on the distribution list then you'll be too late. Also in this month's newsletter is the final part of my online novella, Ryann, another newsletter exclusive.

Please complete your email address below. Thanks!

Being An Indie Author Makes Me Want To Scream

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Fri, 25 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

How about you? Do you want to scream sometimes?

So why do I say I want to scream? Well it's just that sometimes there aren't enough hours in the day to do everything. Actually it's not sometimes, it's every day. And I'm weary. Very weary. This last year has been a non-stop roller-coaster of emotions, and hard work. I've released countless books, written more, reviewed several, blogged to excess, twittered myself to death, and I wish I could do something about my marketing.

It's still not good enough. I'm still not good enough. I want to outsource it, and I've even tried, but so many people out there who say they can market are merely reprobates and con-artists. Am I being harsh and unfair? I don't think so. I'm not a young and gullible person. I am a mature and well-seasoned business executive. I have worked hard to get to where I am today. And yet...

Wow, that was a nice little rant and I should feel a little better for it. I just wish it actually changed something. But it doesn't. My marketing techniques and efforts have still been found wanting. I need to take a new direction, but I don't know exactly what. Maybe if I have a complete break this Memorial Weekend, I'll look at things differently on Tuesday. I hope so. Because next week I've got another new book to plan and so the non-stop Indie Author process continues...

Infographic: Apple By The Numbers

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Wed, 23 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This makes fairly staggering reading:

Original Infographic by Mashable

Scrivener #7 - My First Manuscript Using Scrivener

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Tue, 22 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is the seventh in a series of blog posts based on my experience with Scrivener - A Swiss Army Knife of a tool for writers. The complete series can be found HERE.

If you've been following along on my blog recently you may have been reading my day-by-day experiences writing a novel from scratch using Scrivener. The novella experience is focused on my writing output but not the actual use of Scrivener. This post talks a little about that experience.

First of all I want to say right out of the gate that I REALLY LOVE SCRIVENER! Just so we're all clear about that. I will also add I have no connection to their company, I paid for my own version of the software, and I have received nothing from them for endorsing their product.

Ryann is the first novel (technically a novella as it's only about 30,000 words) I have written exclusively using Scrivener rather than Word. In previous posts I wrote how I used Scrivener to create all my scenes and character notes. I also used Scrivener to organize the scenes into chapters, etc. This post is about the actual manuscript writing experience.

One of the big differences I discovered between writing in Word and writing in Scrivener is that it is so much easier to find pieces of the novel I want to refer back to while I am writing. Do you know what I mean? Did I say the door opened inward or outward? Did the bed have a headboard? Having two panes open on my screen and quickly looking through the scene descriptions to find the place where I wrote about the thing previously, I can bring up two scenes together and check my facts as I write. In Word I would have had to scroll up and down my document and generally lose my place and many valuable minutes of writing. I can also pull up character or place descriptions in a second pane as I type. I can make notes about future ideas as I type. I can... You get the picture.

But what about the actual writing; is that any easier? Simply put, yes! And the reason is that all my notes for a scene are automatically available to me as I write. I don't have to go anywhere to look them up. I know I'm writing 300 words about a particular thing and I also know what the sub-elements are in those 300 words. It's like joining the dots. Then, as often happens, if my 300 words turn into 500 words (or even only 200 words), I can make a decision. Do I keep what I have, do I move something else to be a little later, do I skip something I was thinking about writing? There are all sorts of possibilities. The point is that my 900 words per day target (3 scenes / plot points) somehow just happened. Effortlessly. It's never been that way before. I also learned something else about my writing as I used Scrivener. During previous novels I have been using a guide of 500-600 words as my target for each scene / plot point. I have discovered that 300-350 works better for me. Who'd have known that! It's a very interesting discovery seeing as I've already written over 500,000 words during previous novels. My next novel is going to have more scenes and use the 350 word guideline.

I'm also writing my words quicker using Scrivener. Having everything available to me and knowing exactly what I am supposed to be writing about has helped me improve my words per hour speed. We all live very busy lives and being able to knock off 10 or 20 minutes from our writing time and still produce the same quantity (but better quality) is a great bonus.

And finally the biggest difference has been in the level of detail in my plotting. Because each scene / plot point is an index card and not just a one line sentence (as I have been using in Word), I find it really easy to expand on my notes for a scene and even cut and paste things from one scene into another. As I write, ideas hit me and I never have to lose more than a few seconds in capturing the idea and putting it somewhere for later use. That's not so easy 20,000 words into a Word document. And talking of Word documents, have you ever tried to scroll up and down an 80,000 word manuscript? I have and it's not pleasant. But because Scrivener allows me to split everything up into scenes, I never have to scroll through anything more than the index card list. This is a very quick process.

Okay, so I've rambled on for a while in this post, but I wanted to get the main points down while they were still fresh in my head. Next time I'll write a little more about specific hints and tips, but until then if you haven't already tried it, download a copy of Scrivener. You can use it free for thirty days. It will be a decision you will not regret!

Writing Experiment #31 - Ryann Manuscript Part 28

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Sat, 19 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number thirty-one in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written and edited.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - COMPLETE
First Manuscript Edits - June 19 to June 23
Reader Proofs - June 24 to July 14
Final Manuscript Edits - July 15 to July 19

STATUS

Today's Date: May 19th
Progress: Day 28 complete. Following is the day's writing...

THE FINAL PART OF THE MANUSCRIPT IS WRITTEN!!

Alas, I have not pasted the final part of the manuscript to my blog. What? How dare I ruin everyone's fun?

But - you can still get a hold of it. All you need do is to sign up for my monthly newsletter (see below or opposite). In the next edition I will be sending the link to the final part of the manuscript. Can't wait? Then please just send an email to john@pauldorset.com and I will add you to my newsletter distribution AND send you the link IMMEDIATELY. How about that?

Stay tuned for the manuscript edits that are due in a month's time. And finally, THANK YOU all so much for indulging me!

Writing Experiment #30 - Ryann Manuscript Part 27

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Fri, 18 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number thirty in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written and edited.

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - June 19 to June 23
Reader Proofs - June 24 to July 14
Final Manuscript Edits - July 15 to July 19

STATUS

Today's Date: May 18th
Progress: Day 27 complete. Following is the day's writing...

TOMORROW IS THE LAST DAY!!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Remember, take your time and plan your attacks. Let him come to you. Let him tire himself out first.” The old man shouted instruction to Ryann as they exchanged lunges in the crisp morning air.

“I will,” said Ryann. She pushed a little of her long hair back from her eyes and turned to face the old man again. “And you think I will beat him?”

The old man smiled. “Trust to destiny, Ryann. That is all you can do. But one thing is for certain, you are fitter than he and you must use that to your advantage. Let him tire. Take your time.”

Ryann easily parried the old man’s attack and she turned to face another. She stopped when she saw he was walking away from her. “We are finished?” she asked.

The old man lifted a hand and beckoned to her. “Come.” Ryann followed the old man through the courtyard and into an area she had never been to before. “Captain?” the old man called out.

Ryann looked across to where the old man was shouting and watched as a middle-aged man appeared; one of the Lord’s guards. Ryann stopped and stood watching him.

“Come, come,” the old man repeated.

Ryann crossed over to the man and waited while the captain of the guard walked toward them. As he approached her he drew his sword. Ryann took a step back.

The captain turned the sword in his hand and offered it to her. “Try this, little one.”

Ryann hesitantly took the sword, nearly dropping it as she bore the full weight in her hands. “It’s so heavy.”

The old man smiled. “Yes, I wanted you to know just what a real sword feels like. I don’t want you to make the same mistake that Kieran made.”

Ryann took a few steps to one side and swung the sword through the air. Kieran. Yes, she had to beat Bramwel for Kieran’s sake. She had to take her revenge for him. “But it has balance,” she said, smiling at the captain. “Great balance.”

The old man extended his hands to Ryann. “Remember all I have taught you, Ryann. You will only ever get this one chance.”

Ryann laid the sword across the old man’s palms. “I will,” she whispered.

* * *

“Is that all you have to say?” Lord Cala asked, standing in front of the man.

“It was an honest mistake, sire. I meant no harm in it.”

“Indeed? You want me to believe that you told my son stories of his mother, thinking that he would say nothing about it? I cannot believe that of you, Grubb.”

Grubb turned away from Lord Cala and muttered something under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, sire. It was he that sought me out. He came to see if I could help him with potions and the like. I was only trying to raise his spirits about his mother.”

Lord Cala reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial. “And this?”

“Just something for the boy to use.”

“What is it, Grubb?”

“Nothing of importance, sire. I promise. I just wanted to gain favor with the boy.”

Lord Cala walked across the room and poured some water into a cup. Then he emptied half of the vial into the water and stirred it with a stick. He picked up the cup and offered it to the old man. “Drink this.”

Grubb took a step back. “Thank you Lord Cala, but I am not in need of a drink.”

“Drink it,” Lord Cala repeated, taking a step closer to Grubb.

“It is a poison, a sleeping potion, sire” Grubb stammered.

Lord Cala smiled. “Drink it.” He placed the cup into Grubb’s hand and watched as the old man lifted it to his mouth. “Swallow.” Grubb swallowed the water down and dropped the cup to the floor. Lord Cala didn’t move his eyes from Grubb as the cup smashed into several pieces at his feet. “No one crosses me in my own castle, Grubb.”

Grubb’s hands went to his throat and he made a gurgling sound just before he dropped, lifeless, to the ground.

“No one,” Lord Cala repeated, walking toward the door, leaving the man where he had fallen.

* * *

“Let’s get started,” Bramwel said, pacing up and down the courtyard. “What are we waiting for, anyway?” He looked across at Ryann, who was standing about ten paces from him. She was dressed in a dark red tunic and wore black pants underneath. Her hair was tied back behind her neck and a black belt hung at her waist. He had never seen her looking like this before. Still it didn’t matter; at least she would look pretty when she died. He smiled.

“I’ll let you win,” Ryann whispered to him as she crossed near. “If you tell me about my brother.”

Bramwel spat on the ground next to Ryann’s feet. “You? Let me win? Don’t be so stupid, girl. You will never beat me.”

“I’m giving you a chance,” she whispered again.

Bramwel leaned in close to her face. “Your brother can burn in hell for all I care, Ryann. And that’s exactly where you’re going too.” He took a step back and turned to walk back to the table where the swords were laid out. “Father, can we begin yet?”

Lord Cala looked around the courtyard at the gathered crowd and nodded to his son. “Take your weapons.” He waited while Bramwel and Ryann picked up their swords and had moved away from each other. “And remember, no stabbing to the body.” He turned toward Bramwel. “I want a clean fight.” He waited for a nod of assent from his son before turning back to face the crowd. “Let the duel begin.”

Bramwel raised his sword and turned to face Ryann. He let a smile wash over his face. This was going to be so easy. Just one cut. That was all he needed. One cut and the girl would lose all sense. Then one wrong move and she would be another dead sclava. “Prepare to fight!” he shouted, running full-speed at Ryann, with his outstretched sword in front of him.

Writing Experiment #29 - Ryann Manuscript Part 26

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Thu, 17 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number twenty-nine in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written and edited.

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - June 19 to June 23
Reader Proofs - June 24 to July 14
Final Manuscript Edits - July 15 to July 19

STATUS

Today's Date: May 17th
Progress: Day 26 complete. Following is the day's writing (Chapter Thirteen continued)...

ONLY ONE CHAPTER TO GO!!

Bramwel ran toward his bedroom door with his whip in his hand. By the time he reached it, Ryann had gone. He half-considered chasing after her, but in the end he just returned to his room. He put the whip down on the table and walked over to the bed to examine his toy horse more closely. A tear ran down his face. There was no doubt it was completely broken.

He pieced the largest of the parts together and laid them down on his bed. This was the last memory he had of his mother. The last thing of her he had clung on to. Now what was he going to do? He wiped his face and walked over to the window. Damn that girl. When she returned, whenever she returned, he was going to beat her close to death. He didn’t even care what his father said. Yes, it was probably best not to mention the horse to him. He would only guess Bramwel’s intent. A sly smile crept onto his face. Yes, a good beating would be appropriate in this case.

Bramwel turned away from the window and stared back at his bed. But maybe there was another way. After all, she had wanted to fight him in a duel. A silly girl, wanting to fight in a duel. Perhaps this was a better opportunity. Of course it was. He walked to the bed, picked up the pieces of the toy horse and hurried out of his room.

“Father,” Bramwel half-shouted, rushing into the large sitting room.

Lord Cala looked up from his book. “Bram?”

“It’s my horse, father. She’s broken it.” He laid the pieces down on his father’s lap and let a tear drop from his eye.

Lord Cala picked up a piece of the horse and examined it. “She?”

“Ryann. She did it. She threw it against the bedroom wall. I saw her.”

“And why did she do that, Bram? What did you do to her?”

“Nothing. She just hates me, that’s all.” He picked up a piece of the horse and held it up. “This is the only memory I had of mother. And now even that is broken. Can it be fixed?”

Lord Cala shook his head. “I don’t think so, Bram. But I can get another made for you if you would like.”

“I don’t want another one. I wanted the one mother gave me. I miss her.” Bramwel took a step backward. “What happened to her, father?”

“You know what happened, Bram. She died. Suddenly.” He looked away from his son.

“Grubb says she just disappeared and she’s not dead.”

Lord Cala turned his head back toward Bramwel. “He said what?”

Bramwel swallowed. “He said she’s not dead. He said she just disappeared one day, but she certainly isn’t dead. What happened to her, father?”

Lord Cala sat in silence for a minute, with Bramwel waiting for him to speak. “It’s true, Bram. She isn’t dead. She ran away. I didn’t want you to know that. It has already broken my heart and I thought it would be easier to tell you she had died.”

“Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. She ran off in the middle of the night with Kenrik.”

“The freed sclava that you fought?” Bramwel’s mind was suddenly working overtime.

“Yes. How do you know about him?”

“One of guards mentioned him to me when I asked about the tapestries.”

Lord Cala’s face reddened. “You have been sneaking around in places that are hidden away? What else haven’t you been telling me, Bramwel?”

Bramwel took another step back in case his father decided to hit him. “Nothing, father. I was only trying to find out about your battles. I found a tapestry that had a picture of you on a white horse. It was just like my toy one. That was all. The guard told me the story of the battle and mentioned Kenrik.”

“Kenrik was my most trusted sclava. I didn’t find out until just before he left that your mother had, had, had affections for him. She had that damn toy horse made for me, but when I found out about the two of them I made her give it to you. I never even realized he would come back for her and take her away from me.” Lord Cala threw the piece of the toy horse down on the ground. “Now it’s all gone. Everything. Now it’s just you and me, Bram.”

Bramwel stared at the piece of wood on the floor. “So can I fight her, father?”

“What?”

“Ryann. Can I fight her in a duel? She challenged me.”

Lord Cala slowly nodded his head. “I suppose so, Bram. Just one more sclava who needs to be taught a lesson.”

Bramwel bent down to pick up the piece of his horse and then retrieved the other one from his father’s lap. He smiled at his father and hurried from the room before his father could change his mind.

At last he was going to get to beat Ryann in a fair fight. Well, fair by name anyway. He still had some of the potion-maker’s poison in his room and that would certainly help tip the scales. He probably didn’t really need it. After all, Ryann was just a skinny little girl. “Skinny?” He stopped dead in his tracks. Didn’t she used to be fat? Well, at least a little dumpy. He shook his head. It was probably the sclava rations. They all look a little skinny. Except cook, but she had always been huge. Either way, a little poison would help.

Bramwel continued walking toward his room. Of course he would try not to kill the girl. He laughed out loud to himself. But for some reason or other he just seemed to keep accidentally killing the sclavas.

Writing Experiment #28 - Ryann Manuscript Part 25

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Wed, 16 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number twenty-eight in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written and edited.

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - June 19 to June 23
Reader Proofs - June 24 to July 14
Final Manuscript Edits - July 15 to July 19

STATUS

Today's Date: May 16th
Progress: Day 25 complete. Following is the day's writing...

ONLY ONE AND A HALF CHAPTERS TO GO!!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ryann sat on her bed and idly picked a few pieces of straw from her clothes. What was she going to do? Bramwel wasn’t going to fight her. All he did was laugh at her. It wasn’t fair. She looked up at the wall and counted the marks. “Sixty-one,” she said out loud. Just three silver coins. It would take forever to buy her freedom. No, the only way was to fight him. But how? He would never take her seriously. Like he said, she was just a girl. Just a girl. “But this girl can fight,” she said under her breath. “Just give me the chance.”

She got to her feet and made her way along the corridor and out through the kitchen, into the gardens. Once outside she headed off in a trot along the path until she came to the gap in the hedges. She stopped, but the old man was nowhere to be seen today. She hadn’t really seen him since her last lesson. So she set off running, content to be exercising. She needed a plan. She needed to convince Bramwel to fight her. She stopped and leaned against the castle wall. Maybe she could speak to Lord Cala; he seemed nice enough toward her. She smiled. Yes, perhaps that was what she would do. If she just explained how mean Bramwel was then he would understand.

With a new sense of determination Ryann set off running once more, trying to complete another complete lap of the castle walls. When she was done she collapsed against the kitchen door and breathed deeply. She was soaked through to the skin from sweat, but she felt good. Very good. She pushed the door to the kitchen open and stepped inside.

“My, you look worn out,” said cook, looking across at Ryann from beside the stove. “Come sit yourself down.” She wiped her hands on her apron and took a few steps toward Ryann.

“I’m fine, cook. I’ve just been running, that’s all. I needed to clear my head. Running helps me think straight.” Ryann took a seat at the kitchen table and poured herself a glass of water from a pitcher.

“Just look at you. And we’ve just bought you new clothes. You’re going to need new ones all over again.” Cook reached out a hand and pulled Ryann to her feet. “All skin and bones. There’s nothing of you. We need to feed you up a little.” She pulled at Ryann’s dress and made a tutting sound. “Just hangs off you. No good at all.”

Ryann smiled and pulled away from cook. “I’m fine, cook. I’m fine. I’ve been eating more than enough food. It’s all the running and exercising I’ve been doing. That’s what’s made me skinny.” She gulped down her water and put the empty glass down on the table. “See?” Ryann pulled the rope tighter around her dress and smiled again. “It’ll fit a little longer. I don’t want to have to buy any more clothes.”

Cook shook her head. “Maybe you’re right there, little one. Perhaps someone can just alter it a little for you. I’ll ask the housekeeper.” She turned back toward the stove once more. “And you had better get to the master’s room and tidy it up before dinner.”

“Yes, cook,” Ryann replied, already dreading the rest of the evening.

Ryann breathed a sigh of relief as she entered Bramwel’s room. It was empty; although it wasn’t exactly tidy. How he could make such a mess of the room every single day was beyond her. She bent down and picked up two books that were lying on the floor. As she stood up she noticed his horse. The white toy horse that had been hidden out of view, under Bramwel’s table. She put the books down and reached out to pick it up. She brought the horse up toward her face to examine it and turned it over in her hands.

It was certainly a well made piece. Hours had been spent carving the details into it. It looked quite old, as though from constant use. Of course, that was all Bramwel ever thought about; his damn toy horse. She turned around and threw it as hard as she could toward the far wall. It hit the wall with force and splintered, sending pieces to the ground. She smiled.

“What are you doing?” Bramwel shouted, stepping into the room and following Ryann’s gaze across the room. “What has happened?”

Ryann stood speechless as Bramwel ran across the room and gathered up the three main pieces of what had been his beautiful white toy horse.

Bramwel turned to face Ryann again, holding out the broken horse in his hands. “What have you done?”

He looked almost ready to cry. Ryann could see a tear welling up in his eye and she wanted to smile. She wanted to laugh. But instead she looked down toward the floor, trying to control herself. “It was an accident, master.”

Bramwel walked over to his bed and dropped the pieces onto it. “This was no accident. You have gone too far this time, Ryann.”

Ryann looked up again and saw the redness in Bramwel’s face and the look of anger that covered it. She knew he would grab his whip. There wasn’t much time. What should she do? There was only one thing; to get out. She turned and ran from Bramwel’s room as fast as she could. She ran through the corridors. She ran through the kitchen. She pulled open the door to the gardens and she ran down the path. Bramwel was not going to use his whip on her. Never again. At last she stopped running and bent down to catch her breath. She allowed herself a smile. “And he will never play with his toy horse again either,” she said.

Writing Experiment #27 - Ryann Manuscript Part 24

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Tue, 15 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number twenty-seven in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written and edited.

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - June 19 to June 23
Reader Proofs - June 24 to July 14
Final Manuscript Edits - July 15 to July 19

STATUS

Today's Date: May 15th
Progress: Day 24 complete. Following is the day's writing (Chapter Twelve continued)...

ONLY TWO CHAPTERS TO GO!!

The past couple of weeks had flown by without Ryann really noticing. She had spent every free moment practicing her sword-fighting with the old man. Now she could easily beat him. She knew exactly how he would twist or turn. She knew what moves he would make. She also knew he was going to have to try something different very soon. She smiled as she put on the tunic she now wore when she was fighting, and she made her way out to meet him again.

“Are you ready for your next lesson?” the old man asked, stepping out to greet her.

Ryann smiled. “I am ready.”

The old man pulled a black cloth from his belt and put it around Ryann’s head, covering her eyes. She felt it tighten around the back of her head. “Can you see?” he asked.

Ryann shook her head. “No.” She heard the old man laugh.

“Then we are ready.” Ryann felt the hilt of the wooden sword pressed into her hand and she grabbed it and took her guard. “You have to fight me without your sight today,” he continued. “Use your ears and your instinct.” Ryann screamed out in pain as she felt a painful jab to her right arm. “Concentrate!”

Ryann took her guard once more and tilted her head slightly to try and hear where the old man was standing. She could hear his breathing to her left and she adjusted her stance and listened again. She herd the swish of the blade in the air but it was too late and again she screamed in pain as the sword banged the side of her head. She turned and followed its movement, thrusting at what she hoped was the old man. She heard him laugh once more and she pivoted on her feet. She shut her eyes tight and concentrated on the air around her. She heard the slightest of movements and lunged forward, meeting the old man’s sword with hers. Then her training kicked in. She instinctively knew what he would do and so she bent down and rolled to her left. Then she was back on her feet and moving toward her unseen target. She slashed her sword to her left and then to her right, catching the old man in the stomach. She heard him cry out and adjusted her next lunge slightly so that the sword caught him squarely in the side of his neck.

“Well done,” the old man said. “You can rest now.”

Ryann heard the loud breaths come close to her once more and blinked as her blindfold was removed. “Are you alright?” she asked, noticing the old man holding a bloodied cloth to his neck.

“I’m fine. You attacked me with abandon. It caught me quite by surprise.”

“I just followed my instincts. Like you told me.”

“Yes you did. And when the time comes for you to fight, you must do the same. Do not hesitate, but instead follow your instincts.” The old man held out his hand.

“What do you want?”

“Your sword, Ryann. We are finished. There is nothing more I can teach you.”

Reluctantly she handed over her sword to the old man and watched as he turned to go, still pressing the cloth to his neck. “What do I do now?” she shouted after him.

He turned briefly before continuing. “You know what you need to do, Ryann. You know.”

Ryann returned to her bedroom and sat down on her bed. She knew what to do? That was what the old man had told her. But she didn’t know. She didn’t know at all. She pulled out the band that was tying her hair back and gently tugged at her hair so that it flowed freely once more. And why had the old man made her fight blindfolded today? Trust your instincts, he had said. She smiled. Well that hadn’t been too difficult; she knew exactly what the old man would do.

She stood up and changed out of her tunic and into her cleaning dress. It hung off her and she tied a piece of rope around her stomach to make it more respectable. She smiled and hummed a little tune to herself. At last she was thin again and stronger too. She could easily lift the tables and chairs in Bramwel’s room. And in the sitting room too. Maybe she was even strong enough to fight Bramwel if he tried to hit her. But she daren’t. No, but she would like to. Just once.

“Hurry up,” cook shouted to Ryann, as she walked past her bedroom. “Master Bramwel is waiting for his dinner.”

Ryann looked up and stopped her humming. “Yes cook.”

“And he wants it in his room tonight. So hurry up.” She held out the tray she was carrying for Ryann to take. “And come straight back. There’s some extra kitchen chores this evening.”

Ryann took the tray of food and hurried off toward Bramwel’s room. She pushed open the door and went inside. Bramwel was sitting at his table, reading a book, with his toy horse propped up by the side of it. “Your dinner, master.”

“Over here,” Bramwel replied, clearing a space next to him and shutting his book. “And why are you so late? I asked for dinner at least an hour ago.”

Ryann put the tray down on the table. “I came as quick as I could, master.”

Bramwel reached out a hand and grabbed Ryann’s arm. “Look at me, girl.” He pulled her roughly toward him until her face was almost pressed up against his. “You are never on time for anything. Don’t you get that? You are always late and always rude to me. Don’t you even respect me?” He shook Ryann’s arm and waited for an answer. “Well?”

Ryann pulled her arm back sharply, twisting it, and forcing Bramwel to let go. She could see the look of shock in his eyes and before she could stop herself she slapped him hard across the face. “You are always rude to me. It has to stop. Your father says you are not to beat me too.” Words were gushing out of her. What was she saying? She could see Bramwel’s face getting redder and redder. He looked almost ready to explode.

“How dare you speak to me like that,” he said, getting to his feet and trying to reach out and grab her again.

Ryann took another couple of quick steps backward. This had to end. She couldn’t keep on working for this nasty brat of a boy. She watched as Bramwel’s hand reached out for his whip. She knew she only had a matter of seconds before he would use it on her again. “I’ll fight you,” she said. “I’ll fight you in a duel. Like Kieran. I want to fight you.”

Ryann watched as Bramwel’s hand loosened on the whip and he dropped it back to the table. “Fight me?” He threw his head back in laughter. “You are a girl. You cannot hope to fight me. Now get out before I whip you. Be thankful I am feeling generous this evening.”

“I want to fight you,” Ryann repeated.

“Get out!” Bramwel shrieked. “Get out before I whip you to death right here and now.”

Ryann turned, fighting back a tear from her eyes, and ran as fast as she could away from his room.

Writing Experiment #26 - Ryann Manuscript Part 23

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Mon, 14 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number twenty-six in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 14th
Progress: Day 23 complete. Following is the day's writing...

CHAPTER TWELVE

Bramwel climbed the stairs that led to Grubb’s room. The last few days had been tougher than he had expected and he needed to talk to the potion-maker and see how else he could help him. He wiped his brow as he reached the door and then he pushed it open and went inside.

“Young Master Bramwel,” Grubb said, putting a large glass jar down on the table. “And what brings you back again so soon?”

Bramwel walked across the room and stood next to the old man. “I wanted to know what other potions you could provide for me?”

Grubb smiled. “I heard about the young sclava. I didn’t realize you were trying to kill off your servants nowadays.”

“I just wanted to try the poison out and see how it worked. That was all.”

“Yes. I see.” Grubb turned his attention back to the large glass jar and dropped a few herbs into it.

“Will you help me then?” Bramwel asked.

“Why? What is in it for me?”

Bramwel watched as a few wisps of smoke rose up from the jar. “For you? I don’t understand.”

Grubb laughed. “Do you think I do this for your pleasure, Master Bramwel? No, there has to be something in it for me. A reward of some kind? Maybe a coin or two? The poison I gave you was a sample.”

Bramwel took a step back from the smoking jar, coughing a little as he went. “I am sure I could offer you a few copper coins for the right magic.”

Grubb breathed in the smoke and smiled again. “I was hoping for a little more.” He looked across at Bramwel. “Shall we say two silver coins?”

“Are you crazy, old man?” Bramwel said, laughing.

Grubb waited for Bramwel to go quiet again. “I will make it worth your while. A special potion for you and a special piece of information. Information that will help you achieve what is on your mind.”

“You know nothing of what is on my mind, Grubb.”

“You would be surprised.” Grubb closed his eyes and breathed in a little more of the smoke. “You want to have this castle for yourself. I can help you with that.” He held out his hand toward Bramwel.

Bramwel reached into his pocket and slid two silver coins into Grubb’s hand. “This had better be worth it.”

Grubb smiled and beckoned Bramwel closer to him. “Of course, Master Bramwel. Of course.” He waited until Bramwel was standing next to him before he continued. “Your mother. She is not dead, Bramwel.”

Bramwel reached out and tried to take the coins back from Grubb, but the old man closed his hand and secreted them away. “Don’t play me for the fool, Grubb. I know she is dead.”

“No, she is not dead. Perhaps you should ask your father. She just disappeared one day. Gone from the castle. Not dead.” He put up a hand as Bramwel started to speak. “Not dead, Bramwel. Go ask your father.” He smiled. “That was worth two silver coins, was it not? And tomorrow, in your room, you will find a gift from me. Something a little extra. A potion that will aid in sleep. Very long sleep.” He laughed out loud. “Now go. Leave me.”

* * *

“Fifty-five,” Ryann counted. Already the total of copper coins was decreasing. Ever since she had started her fighting lessons with the old man, her savings were getting less and less. Still, it wasn’t all bad. She already felt fitter. She had lost some more weight around her stomach and her arms and legs ached from all the exercise. And today she had even beaten the old man one time in a duel with the wooden swords. Yes, perhaps this would be a good investment after all. She smiled and lay back on her bed, imagining beating Bramwel and gaining her freedom.

“No time for sitting around,” cook said, peeking into Ryann’s room. “You need to take the rest of Bramwel’s clothes back to him.” She crossed over to Ryann’s bed and dropped a small pile of clothes on it. “Hurry now.”

Ryann opened her eyes and sat up. “Yes, cook. I’ll go straight away.” She got to her feet and moaned slightly at the pain in her legs.

“Are you alright?” asked cook.

Ryann smiled. “Just a little tired, that’s all.” She bent down and picked up Bramwel’s clothes and hurried off toward his room.

“About time,” Bramwel said as Ryann appeared. “Have you got my tunic there?”

Ryann put the clothes down on Bramwel’s bed and looked through the pile. She pulled out a dark blue tunic. “This one?”

Bramwel snatched it form her. “Yes this one.” He held it back up to her. “Now help me on with it, will you?”

Ryann tried to avert her eyes as Bramwel stripped off his robe and stood there in his undergarments. Why did he always try and humiliate her? She slipped the tunic over his outstretched arms and over his head, and then took a step back to turn away. Maybe she could back to her room now and get a little more rest.

“What have you done?” Bramwel screamed. Ryann snapped her head around and saw Bramwel rubbing at a mark on the right-hand side. “You have ruined it,” he continued. “How did this happen?”

Ryann stepped closer to take a look and shook her head. “I do not know, master. I just collected it from the wash-room. Perhaps somebody did not take care enough.”

Bramwel slapped Ryann hard across the face, causing her to take a step back. “Someone? You are responsible for everything I do. Not someone else.” He turned around, walked over to the table next to his bed and took up his whip. He cracked it once, toward the door and away from Ryann. “How did this happen?”

Ryann’s eyes darted back and forth between the whip and Bramwel’s tunic. “I am sorry, master. I can have someone mend it for you. She held out her hands. Please give it to me.” She screamed out loud as the whip cracked and left a bright red marks across her two palms. She quickly dropped her hands to her side before he could strike them again, and she ran from the room.

“Come back, Ryann. Come back here,” Bramwel shouted.

Ryann ignored the shouts and continued on toward her room.

“Ryann!”

Writing Experiment #25 - Ryann Manuscript Part 22

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Sun, 13 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number twenty-five in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 13th
Progress: Day 22 complete. Following is the day's writing (Chapter Eleven continued)...

Ryann hurried back to the kitchen and told cook of Lord Cala’s request. “Goodness me, what are we going to do?” asked cook, as she ladled some stew into a bowl. She handed it off to another of the girls and sent her on her way.

“What about me?” Ryann asked, unsure as to why she didn’t take the food back to Lord Cala.

“I need you to attend to Master Bramwel. He is asking for his room to be completely cleaned and a large meal to be served.” She ladled some more stew into a bowl and handed it to Ryann. “With Kieran gone and little chance of a replacement, we’re going to be short-handed for a while. It’s going to mean extra work for us all. And you’re going to have to attend to Bramwel more often.”

Ryann took the stew and sighed. She was never going to escape from him. “Yes, cook.” She turned and headed back toward Bramwel’s room, making sure she didn’t spill any of the stew. When she entered his room she put it down on the table and crossed over toward the far side of the room, next to the window.

“Are my clothes ready?” Bramwel asked, sitting down and ladling some stew into his mouth.

“Not yet, master. But as soon as they are ready I will bring them to you.” She hoped they weren’t ready yet. She’d forgotten about them with everything else she was trying to do.

“Just make sure you do.” He stuck out a finger and pointed to the windows. “And you need to clean these. I can hardly see out of them.”

Ryann reached out a finger to the window and ran it along the edges. Her finger was covered in dirt. It had probably been a very long time since they had been washed. She walked across the room and headed back to the wash-room for a cloth and some water.

“And don’t be long,” Bramwel called out behind her.

A few minutes later she returned to Bramwel’s room with a cloth and a bucket of water. She also had a few of his clean clothes with her. She dropped the clothes onto the bed, walked back over to the window, and started cleaning.

“Did you know you have a brother?” Bramwel asked, walking up alongside Ryann.

She stopped washing the window and turned her head toward Bramwel. “I am an orphan, sir.”

Bramwel laughed. “No, that is what they told you. Your papers say you have a brother.”

Ryann put the bucket down and turned fully toward Bramwel. “I do?”

“So you had better start doing exactly what I say if you want to know more about him.” Bramwel walked back toward the door. “Exactly what I say.” He laughed as he walked out of the room, leaving Ryann all alone with a wet cloth in her hand.

The next hour passed without Ryann noticing as she absentmindedly cleaned the windows, all the time thinking about what Bramwel had said. Now she had to get free. She had to earn her freedom so that she could find her brother, wherever he was. Wherever he was. She didn’t know anything at all. Maybe Bramwel was making it up. But he couldn’t be, could he? Perhaps she should ask Lord Cala. She dropped the cloth into the dirty water and picked up the bucket to take it back to the wash-room.

“Ryann, isn’t it?” the old man in the wash-room asked.

Ryann nodded. “Hello.” Ryann recognized the old man from before. “You’re the man who was teaching Kieran to fight, aren’t you?”

The old man nodded. “I am.” He walked up to her, ran a finger through her hair and then took a step back to examine her body. “I think you would make a good pupil.”

Ryann laughed. “Me? Learning to fight? I am a girl.”

“And girls don’t fight?”

“No. I mean, I don’t think so,” Ryann replied, looking the old man up and down.

“Well, you should think about it. You never know when you might need to know how to protect yourself.” He took another step closer to Ryann and lowered his voice. “Especially with the likes of the master about.” He winked at Ryann.

“And you would teach me?” Ryann asked.

The old man nodded. “Of course,” he replied. “For a small fee.” He smiled. “We all have to make our living here.”

“How much?”

“Two copper coins a lesson. That’s what I charged young Kieran. God rest his soul.” He turned to leave the wash-room. “Just have a think about it. Let me know. You can usually find me outside. Near the stables.”

Ryann watched the old man as he walked away. Fighting lessons? Maybe it would be a good idea. Maybe she would be able to stand up to Bramwel. But two copper coins a lesson. That would eat into her savings. The savings that were already accumulating slower than she would have liked.

* * *

“I need you to be a little easier on the sclavas, Bram,” Lord Cala said as he and Bramwel sat in the sitting room. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to afford any more for a while, and there are few enough as it is. So you’re just going to have to show a little restraint going forward.”

“Father?”

“No more whipping. Do you understand?”

“But…”

“And no more hitting. Instead, refer all problems to me. I will deal with them personally. I need to keep all the sclavas as healthy as possible.” Lord Cala took a sip from his cup. “Do I make myself clear, Bram?”

“Yes, father,” Bramwel replied. “I’ll do my best. But sometimes they need to be taught a lesson.” Especially that Ryann girl, he thought to himself. She was the worst. Always answering back. She had a real attitude. Still, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Now that he had told her about her brother, she would be a lot easier to handle. He smiled. “But, of course, father. For the smooth-running of the household, I’ll be a little more considerate.” He turned his head away from his father. “And some marks don’t show anyway,” he mumbled to himself.

Writing Experiment #24 - Ryann Manuscript Part 21

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Sat, 12 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number twenty-four in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 12th
Progress: Day 21 complete. Following is the day's writing...

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sixty-two copper coins. Ryann counted the marks once more and sat back down on her bed. Three silver coins. It was very slow progress. Still, maybe today she would find out just how much money Kieran had left her. She picked up her new hair-brush from beside the bed and ran it through her hair. Hopefully now everyone would stop saying she looked untidy all the time.

Ryann put the brush down and got up. She crossed her room and headed along the corridor toward Bramwel’s room. It had been five days since they had burned Kieran’s body and during that time she had tried to keep out of Bramwel’s way as much as possible.

She knocked on his door and entered. He was stood staring out of the window. Without a word, Ryann crossed over to Bramwel’s bed and started to tidy it.

“Showing your face at last then?” he asked, not turning to face her.

“Yes master,” she replied, biting down on her lip to stop herself from saying anything she would regret.

“Well don’t forget, today you need to take my clothes to wash as well.”

Ryann finished tidying the bed and started to pick up the assortment of discarded clothes that were scattered around the room.

“Nothing to say this morning then?” Bramwel asked, finally turning to face her.

Ryann shook her head and continued to make a pile of the clothes. She tried not to make eye contact with Bramwel who was smiling at her as she worked.

“Nothing at all?” Bramwel took a few steps toward Ryann. “That is most unlike you. Usually you are giving me unsolicited advice.” He laughed.

Ryann stopped and looked at Bramwel. She waited for him to stop laughing before she spoke. “Well actually there is one thing, master.” She raised her eyes up toward him. “There’s the matter of the oath money, sir.”

Bramwel laughed. “Oath money? What oath money?”

“From Kieran, sir. He promised it to me as he was dying. You were there.”

Bramwel took a step closer to Ryann and lowered his voice. “You are getting none of that money, girl. I have used it for myself. No one heard him except for me and I can’t seem to remember it at all.” He poked a finger into her face. “Do I make myself clear?”

“But it’s mine…”

Bramwel slapped Ryann across the face. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” Ryann replied, trying not to allow herself a tear.

Bramwel took a step back and turned to cross toward his bed. “Good, then that is settled. Now hurry up and take these clothes to be washed. I don’t want to have to punish you further today.”

Ryann picked up the pile of clothes and hurried off to the wash-house. As soon as she had dropped them off, she turned and walked back toward the large sitting room. Today she had extra duties now that Kieran was no longer there.

Ryann collected the broom from near to the sitting room and entered by the main door. She immediately set about sweeping the dust from the floor back toward the door.

“Ryann,” said Lord Cala, looking up from his chair on the far side of the room. “How are you today?”

Ryann curtsied. “Very well, sir.” She continued to sweep away the dust.

“Come over here,” Lord Cala continued. He beckoned with his fingers.

Ryann laid the broom against the wall and walked across the room. “Yes sir?”

“Take a seat.” He pointed toward the empty large chair that was next to his.

Ryann looked at it twice. “Sir?” She had never dared to sit in such a comfortable chair as this before. Sclavas never sat in these chairs. Lord Cala tapped the chair and waited for her to sit.

“How does my son treat you?”

“Well, sir,” Ryann replied. She dare not tell him otherwise, even though she was regularly beaten.

“And your face? Is that the result of running then?”

Ryann blushed and touched a hand to her red face. “Probably sir.”

Lord Cala smiled. “It’s alright, Ryann. I know it was most likely Bram that did that to you. I will have words with him. He forgets his manners sometimes.” Ryann watched as Lord Cala took a sip from a large cup he was holding. “You remind me a lot of my wife you know. Just when the light catches you sometimes. It could be the way you wear your hair.” He turned his head slightly at an angle. “I see you have brushed it today.”

Ryann touched a hand to it. “Yes, sir.”

“I had quite gotten used to it being messy.” Lord Cala laughed. “I actually thought it suited you that way.”

“Yes sir,” Ryann said, starting to feel a little embarrassed.

Lord Cala got to his feet. “I know you are probably wondering just exactly what you are doing here, and hoping to be excused as quickly as possible. But don’t worry. I’m not upset with you. Not at all. In fact I want to make sure you are treated fairly. By Bramwel. I want you to tell me if he does anything else that is upsetting to you.” He smiled. “Especially if he beats you again. Will you tell me, Ryann?”

What was she supposed to say? Should she tell him about the oath money? Would the Lord get Kieran’s money for her? “Yes sir,” she replied. He probably wouldn’t even believe her. He was probably just trying to make her feel better because of Kieran. No she couldn’t say anything, she decided. “I will, I promise.”

“Good.” He extended a hand to Ryann and pulled her to her feet. “Now run along and see if there’s any food prepared for me will you? I’m getting hungry already.”

Writing Experiment #23 - Ryann Manuscript Part 20

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Fri, 11 May 2012 14:19:00 +0000

This is number twenty-three in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 11th
Progress: Day 20 complete. Following is the day's writing (Chapter Ten continued)...

Back inside the kitchen, Ryann broke free of cook and rushed toward her bedroom. How could this have happened? This was only supposed to be a duel. No one was supposed to be killed. She flung herself onto her straw bed and pressed her face against her pillow. No, this wasn’t fair at all. Now what was she going to do? Kieran was everything she lived for; her best friend. In the space of a few short days, she had lost so much. First Megan, and now Kieran. Life as a sclava was the most unbearable thing ever.

Ryann rolled over and sat up. She rubbed her eyes and got to her feet. She had to do something, but what? Crossing over to the doorway, she stepped out into the corridor and hurried along it. Within a couple of minutes she was standing outside his room. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

“You did it,” she screamed, walking across the room and standing in front of Bramwel’s table. She watched him as he sat up on his bed. “You deliberately killed Kieran.”

“He deserved to die,” Bramwel said, laughing as he spoke. “That little brat made me look foolish in front of my father. Now he will never do that again.”

“He didn’t deserve to die,” Ryann said, trying her best not to rush over to Bramwel and take out her emotions on him.

“Either way, he’s dead now. He’s not coming back. And he’s only a sclava after all. We can get another.”

Ryann screamed and rushed toward Bramwel causing him to jump down from the bed. He laughed again.

“And you’re going to do what now?” he asked.

Ryann took a deep breath and stopped short of Bramwel. She dropped her clenched fists to her side and looked up into his face. “I don’t care what you say, I know you deliberately killed my friend. And I will never forgive you for that, Bramwel. I don’t care what punishments you take out on me. One day I will get my revenge and I will make you pay for what you have done. You cannot take life so cheaply. Sclavas are people, just like you. You will never be clever enough to run this castle. It is like your father said, you are just a boy, Bramwel. Just a boy.”

Bramwel took a step toward Ryann and slapped her hard across her face. “And you are my sclava and you will do whatever I say.” He punched her in the stomach causing her to double up in pain. “And how dare you speak to me like this? I am your master and you had better not forget it.” He pushed Ryann roughly to the ground and stormed out from his room. “And clean up the mess in here.”

Ryann held a hand to her stomach and tried to regain her breathing. Bramwel had knocked the wind out of her and she felt like throwing up right where she was. The only thing stopping her was the knowledge she would be the one who would clear it all up. But he almost deserved it.

She breathed in deeply and got back onto her feet. Damn his room. It could stay like it was for a while. How dare he think so little of people? Bramwel was lower than the pigs they kept in the pens outside; he wasn’t even human.

She made her way back to the kitchen and sat at the big table where several other people had gathered.

Cook ruffled Ryann’s hair. “How are you, little one?”

Ryann smiled. “Okay.”

“We were just saying a few words to each other about Kieran before we went outside to burn the body.”

Ryann got to her feet. “No, you can’t burn his body. It’s not right. That’s not what we do to our friends.”

“It’s what we always do here, Ryann. You know that.”

“But this is Kieran. It’s not fair. We should bury him somewhere in the castle grounds.”

Cook took a hold of Ryann and pulled her to herself. “We cannot, little one. You know the Lord’s thoughts. We have to burn the body. And very soon.”

Ryann pounded her fists into cook’s side and cried. “But he was my friend. My best friend. I was going to leave here with him one day. Now he is dead. How can they let this happen?” She buried her head in cook’s chest.

Cook put an arm around Ryann and squeezed her tightly. “Now, now. Just you let it all out. Remember Kieran for his smile and his happy nature. He was a fine lad and would have grown up to be a fine man too.” She kissed the top of Ryann’s head. “And yes, he would have made a great husband for you if you had both gained your freedom.” Cook looked across the kitchen and nodded to a couple of the others and watched as they left to go outside. “Would you like to come watch?” she whispered.

Ryann sniffled once more and then pulled her head free of cook. She looked up at cook’s face and nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.

Cook let Ryann free and got up from the table. She turned around and followed the others from the kitchen. Ryann trailed behind them as they walked through the garden, past where the vegetables grew, around another corner, and toward a place where a bonfire was being built. She swallowed hard as she saw the body of Kieran laid out on the ground beside it, covered with a white sheet. She breathed deeply again as she controlled the urge within her to rush over to it and hold him tightly to her. Kieran was dead now. There was nothing she could do about that. But there was one thing she could do. Of that she was certain. She would make Bramwel pay for what he had done. Somehow. No matter what it cost her.

Writing Experiment #22 - Ryann Manuscript Part 19

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Thu, 10 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number twenty-two in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 10th
Progress: Day 19 complete. Following is the day's writing...

CHAPTER TEN

Kieran raised his sword in defense as Bramwel rushed in toward him, swinging his sword madly about him. He turned to offer only his profile, just as the old man had taught him and then he stepped to one side as Bramwel rushed past his left side. He allowed himself a smile and prepared for the next attack.

Bramwel stopped about six paces past Kieran and turned to face him again. The element of surprise was not with him now, Kieran thought. Now he will have to attack carefully. He tilted his sword toward Bramwel a little more and took a couple of steps forward. Bramwel did the same. As soon as he was close enough to reach Bramwel, he swung and connected with the metal of Bramwel’s sword. They stood, swords interlocked, for a few seconds before Kieran broke free and took another step toward Bramwel. He slashed his sword through the air, catching Bramwel’s right arm. Then he quickly took a step back and smiled as he saw the tell-tale sign of blood appear. Maybe he would have a chance after all. Bramwel didn’t appear to really know what he was doing.

Kieran stepped forward again and took aim at Bramwel’s left arm. Swords connected but Kieran found his mark and drew blood once more. As he turned to face Kieran again, he felt the heat of pain as Bramwel slashed wildly across his back. The coward. He altered his stance and faced Bramwel, about four paces from him. “Is that the best you’ve got?” he asked. “You have to attack my back?”

Bramwel lunged once more at Kieran but he easily sidestepped him and caught him a glancing blow to the side as he passed. Now Bramwel was cut in three places. Or was it four? Or five? Kieran was having a little difficulty focusing on his opponent. He shook his head to try and gain his composure and he raised his sword a little higher. Why was Bramwel out of focus? Did he have something in his eye? He blinked to try and clear them and stepped forward once more. The sound of metal on metal rang out and Kieran tried to concentrate as best he could but it was getting very difficult. Suddenly his sword felt heavier and his legs didn’t seem to be working as well as they should be. He pivoted on his legs and briefly lowered his sword to stop himself from falling over. He looked down at his stomach and blinked another few times. Why was there blood coming from his stomach? Why was the ground rising up so fast before him? Why were the birds singing in the trees? Why…”

“Kieran!” Ryann shouted out, running toward her falling friend. “Kieran!” She reached his lifeless body in moments and stood over him.

“Get back,” shouted Bramwel, pulling Ryann away. “I haven’t finished yet.”

Ryann pushed back at Bramwel, and grasped his arm. “You’re not supposed to kill him. That’s not in the rules.”

Bramwel took a step back and lowered his sword. “I didn’t mean to. He just turned straight into me. Like he wanted me to do it.”

“You killed him,” Ryann said again. She let go of Bramwel and dropped to the ground. “Kieran? Open your eyes. Say something.” She roughly pushed at him and wiped off the blood that was all over her fingers. “Kieran.”

Kieran’s eyes flickered and opened briefly. He stared up into Ryann’s face. “Ree? What happened? I couldn’t see.”

“See, he’s not dead,” said Bramwel, kneeling down beside them both.

“Shutup,” said Ryann. She turned to face Kieran again. “Will you be alright?”

“I don’t think so,” said Kieran. “And if I die I want to oath witness everything I have to you, Ree. Okay?”

“Okay,” whispered Ryann, letting a tear drop to the ground. She turned once more to face Bramwel. “And you heard that. He oath witnessed.”

“Don’t leave me, Ree,” continued Kieran, closing his eyes once more.

“I’m here,” she replied, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tight.

“What have you done?” Lord Cala asked, pulling Bramwel out of his way as he knelt down beside Kieran. He touched a hand to Kieran’s chest and felt his brow. “He’s not long for this world,” he added, shaking his head at Ryann.

Ryann felt Kieran’s grip loosen as she held him and gradually his breath slowed to a stop. She let his hand go, placed it on his chest and leaned over him to weep.

“Come on, little one,” cook said, pulling Ryann free of Kieran. “There’s nothing we can do now.”

Lord Cala turned toward his son and pulled him roughly to the ground. “Well? What have you got to say for yourself?”

“You saw what happened? I tried to cut his arm but he turned and my sword went into his stomach. I didn’t try to kill him.”

Lord Cala leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Bramwel’s ear. “I will talk with you about this later, Bram. Now get out of my sight before I do something I regret.” He let his son go and watched as he scampered out of the arena and back toward the castle. He carefully got to his feet and turned to face cook. “I am sorry, cook. It appears my son was a little over zealous. Please make all the necessary arrangements for the boy.” He turned his head toward Ryann. “And make sure someone stays with her tonight.”

“Cook nodded and, still clutching Ryann close to her, led Ryann back toward the kitchens.

Writing Experiment #21 - Ryann Manuscript Part 18

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Wed, 09 May 2012 14:28:00 +0000

This is number twenty-one in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 9th
Progress: Day 18 complete. Following is the day's writing (Chapter Nine continued)...

“Where’s Kieran?” she shouted. “Where is he?”

One of the young cooks pointed a finger toward the door. “Outside.”

Ryann rushed through the kitchen and pulled open the door to the outside. She raced through the garden and turned between the hedges. There he was, his wooden sword raised in training with the old man. “Kieran!” she screamed.

Kieran dropped his guard and turned to face her. His face dropped and at once Ryann knew it was true. She ran over to him and flung her arms around him. “What are you doing? Why are you challenging Bramwel?” She hung on to him, afraid to let him go.

Kieran pulled her arms away from him and took a step back. “I had no choice, Ree. Bramwel made it very clear I had to fight him.” He smiled. “But don’t worry, I am strong. I will beat him and then I will win my freedom. Then I will earn enough money to buy your freedom too. You’ll see.” He took another step back. “And now Ree, you must excuse me. I have to finish practicing. There are a few more moves and tricks I need to master and I only have a couple of hours left before the duel.”

Ryann raised her hands up and reached out to Kieran.

“No,” he said, taking another step back. “Please, Ree. Please understand.” Kieran turned away and walked back the few steps toward the old man. “Shall we continue?”

Ryann’s head dropped and a tear ran down her face. What was she going to do? She couldn’t let Kieran fight Bramwel. Bramwel would surely win and then Kieran would be stuck in the castle forever. No. She had to do something. Maybe she could plead with Lord Cala. Perhaps he could stop this duel. She turned away from Kieran and hurriedly made her way back toward the kitchen once more.

* * *

Kieran sat on his bed and pulled on his tunic. He had prepared all he could and now it was time to face Bramwel. He smiled to himself. The old man had said he was good enough. He had told him to stay to Bramwel’s left and not to get too close. Kieran had a longer reach than Bramwel and he was a little lighter too. The old man had said these were both things that would play in his favor. He just had to relax and take his time. There was no hurry. The duel would last until one of them won. Time was his friend, the old man had said.

Kieran pulled on his boots and laced them up as tight as he could. He got to his feet and walked over to the window. There wasn’t much of a view from his room but at least he could see that the sun was shining. Good. “It’s time,” he said to himself. He bent down on one knee, closed his eyes, and put a hand to his chest. “Dear God, please look after me as I do battle with Bramwel. Please guide me in your ways.” He opened his eyes again and got to his feet. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Kieran stepped through the gap between the hedges and smiled to the old man. The old man held out his hand and Kieran took it, following him as he was led toward another part of the castle gardens. As they rounded a corner Kieran could see a small crowd gathered. Ropes had been put up to enclose a large grassy area and Kieran could see Bramwel was jumping up and down, getting himself warmed up.

“Stray calm,” the old man said to Kieran as they reached the site of the duel. “And just remember what I told you. Good luck.” He patted Kieran on the back and pushed him forward through the crowd.

“Welcome,” said Lord Cala, looking about him to make sure the last of the stragglers had arrived. “As it has been a while since the last sclava freedom duel, I just want to go over the rules.” The crowd went silent. “This is not a fight to the death, I want to make that very clear. Grazing cuts are permitted but thrusts to the body or head are not. The first person who is either too weak to continue, is too bloody to continue, or yields, will be the loser.” He turned to face Bramwel and Kieran in turn. “Do you both understand?”

Kieran nodded as he looked across at the smiling Bramwel. “Yes, sir.”

With a look of satisfaction, Lord Cala took a step back and pointed to the two swords that were laid out on a table. “Take your weapons.”

Kieran stepped forward and picked up the sword. It was not what he had expected. It was much heavier than the wooden one he had been practicing with. Why hadn’t the old man said something about that? He swung it loosely in his hands and smiled. But it was balanced. Very balanced. He just had to keep it moving, that was all.

“Take your positions,” Lord Cala shouted out.

The crowd took an intake of breath as Kieran turned to face Bramwel, only five paces away from him. “Here we go,” he muttered to himself as he heard Lord Cala shout for them to begin.

Writing Experiment #20 - Ryann Manuscript Part 17

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Tue, 08 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number twenty in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 8th
Progress: Day 17 complete. Following is the day's writing...

CHAPTER NINE

“I just thought I’d come and check on you, Bram,” Lord Cala said, standing in the doorway to Bramwel’s bedroom with a lit torch in his hand.

Bramwel looked up from his bed. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“No change of heart?”

“No,” Bramwel smiled. “I’m committed.” He rolled over to face his father and put his toy horse down.

“You still have your horse then I see.”

“It’s the one memory I have of mother. You know that.”

Lord Cala took a step inside Bramwel’s room and lowered his torch slightly. “Your mother gave you that just two days before she died.”

Bramwel sat up in his bed. “So soon before? I never realized.”

Lord Cala nodded and took another couple of steps toward Bramwel. “Yes, it’s almost three years to the day now. She loved you very much.”

“How did she die, father?”

Lord Cala dropped his head. “It’s too painful, Bram. One day. One day I’ll tell you. For now just be happy with the memories you have.” He stopped beside his son and leaned over to ruffle his hair. “Last chance. I won’t think any the less of you if you decide not to fight this boy. It’s a big responsibility, and he may not be as easy to beat as you think.”

Bramwel laughed. “I have seen him practicing, father. I don’t think I will have too much trouble beating him.”

Lord Cala stepped back from the bed and turned to leave. “If you are sure, I will let it be known that the duel will take place tomorrow afternoon. I will have the courtyard prepared. Sleep well, Bram. Get some rest.”

“Goodnight father,” Bramwel replied. He watched his father leave and he sank back onto the bed to think some more. He pulled his toy horse to his chest and held it tightly. “Tomorrow is our day, Stampede. We do this for our honor and in memory of mother.”

Bramwel closed his eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Bramwel was still in his clothes from the night before when he awoke the following morning. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at the light that was streaming through his window. “Where is that girl?” he said to himself, sitting up and surveying his room. “She should be here by now.”

He got up from the bed and cursed as his toy horse fell to the floor. He picked it up and placed it back under the table on the far side of his room. His hand wandered to the small vial that was also sitting there and he cupped it in his hands.

“Yes,” he said under his breath. Hopefully Grubb had spoken the truth and this potion would help dispatch Kieran quickly and efficiently. He slipped the vial into his pocket and tapped it unconsciously. Yes, later on he would apply it to his sword; before the duel commenced. Then he would see just how powerful Grubb’s magic was.

“Where is that girl?” he shouted out again, crossing over to his doorway. He looked outside into the corridor but she was nowhere to be seen. Didn’t she know he needed to get ready early this morning? He smiled. No, of course she didn’t. She probably didn’t even know about the duel. A smile crossed his face. He would take pleasure in telling her that; that was for sure. He stepped fully into the corridor and shouted out again. “Ryann!”

“Yes, Master Bramwel. I’m coming, sir,” came a girl’s voice from somewhere down the corridor.

Bramwel waited until Ryann appeared in the distance. “Hurry up, girl. I haven’t got all day. Where is my breakfast? Are you abandoning your duties again?”

Ryann stumbled along the corridor, trying to balance a tray in her hands that contained Bramwel’s breakfast. “Here I am, master.” She arrived all out of breath, stepped around Bramwel, and entered his room. She crossed to the table and put the tray down, nearly dropping it onto the floor in the process. “Sorry I’m late master, but cook was all behind this morning. Still, she put on an extra piece of your favorite cheese for you.” She pointed at the plate containing the cheese.

“Cheese. Is that all you care about? Why weren’t you here to tidy my room already?”

“I am here now. Please, come and eat and I will tidy your room. Please.” Ryann stood to one side of the tray and waited for Bramwel to cross over. She stepped away, making sure she remained out of reach of his long arms.

“It’s a lovely day today, Ryann. Do you know why that is?”

Ryann shook her head. “A feast day?”

“No. Today is a special day for me. My father is allowing me to partake in a duel. I am going to show my father that I am a man and worthy of fighting in his army.” Bramwel watched the puzzled reaction on Ryann’s face. “It doesn’t mean anything to you?”

“No sir.”

“Of course not. You’re new here.” He put a piece of bread into his mouth and chewed on it. “Here, come over here so I can explain,” he said, spitting crumbs as he spoke.

Ryann cautiously took a couple of steps toward Bramwel. “Yes master?”

“There is a custom that allows sclavas to challenge their master for their freedom by way of a duel, one on one. If they win, they get their freedom, but if they lose, their debt is doubled.”

“Oh,” said Ryann.

Bramwel laughed. “You still don’t understand, do you?” Ryann shook her head. “Kieran,” said Bramwel. “Kieran has challenged me to a duel. Later this afternoon he and I will duel with swords. And when I beat him, he will be in my debt forever. What say you to that, Ryann?”

Ryann stared Bramwel in the face, unable to utter a single word.

Writing Experiment #19 - Ryann Manuscript Part 16

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Mon, 07 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number nineteen in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 7th
Progress: Day 16 complete. Following is the day's writing (Chapter Eight continued)...

Bramwel wandered back toward his room, kicking up some dirt in the courtyard as he walked. It had been a most productive day and now it was time to move forward with a newly-hatched plan. He opened the side-door of the west wing and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. Probably the sitting room, he thought to himself. With an absentminded nod of his head he set out toward it.

“Are you nearly done?” Bramwel asked, walking into the sitting room and crossing over toward the window.

“Almost, master,” Kieran replied. He bowed slightly and carried on sweeping the floor.

“Tell me Kieran, how did you come to be here in the castle?”

Kieran stopped sweeping and looked up at Bramwel. “You know that already, master.”

“Well I know when you came here and that we bought you at the marketplace, but what about your family? I don’t know about them.”

Kieran looked down at the floor. “I’m sure you don’t want to know about that, sir.”

“Tell me.”

Kieran carried on sweeping and didn’t look up at Bramwel as he spoke. “I was an orphan, sir. Always was. My aunt raised me until I was twelve, but then they needed the money that a sclava sale could bring. That’s when they sold me, master.”

Bramwel smiled. “So no family, eh? That must have been tough. So really, you have no need to leave my service, do you?”

“Sir?”

“Buying off your debt. I mean, you’re not like that girl, Ryann, are you? She has a brother out there somewhere so I’ve heard, but you have no one.”

“Ryann is an orphan too, sir.”

“Ryann has a brother she has not ever seen. When she was bought in the market, her papers told us so.” He crossed over to stand next to Kieran. “But that does not matter. It is you I am more concerned about.” He reached out and took Kieran’s broom from him. “So, tell me Kieran, do you still dream of paying off your debt and leaving?”

“No sir,” Kieran replied, still trying not to look at Bramwel.

“Not at all? You would rather stay here and try to make me look foolish in front of my father would you?”

“No sir.”

Bramwel placed a hand under Kieran’s chin and lifted his head so that they were looking at each other, eye to eye. “Did you enjoy making me look foolish?”

“No sir.”

“But?”

Kieran swallowed hard, waiting for the slap or punch that would inevitably come from Bramwel.

“You have nothing else to say?”

Kieran shook his head and waited.

Bramwel smiled and let his hand drop back to his side. He took a couple of steps backward and threw Kieran’s broom to the floor. “I am disappointed in you, Kieran. When you first arrived here I thought you would be a good addition to the castle staff. But now I see you for what you are; another lazy, undermining, good for nothing sclava.”

“Yes sir,” Kieran muttered.

“Well, I have a proposition for you, Kieran,” Bramwel said, allowing a smile to creep onto his face. “I hear that you practice swordplay daily with one of the old sclavas?”

“Yes sir,” Kieran replied, trying not to look surprised at what he had just heard.

“And how are your skills?”

“Adequate, master.”

“Adequate? I heard you were well above adequate. I heard you had quite a natural gift for it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kieran mumbled.

“So I was thinking.” Bramwel turned around and walked over to a large chair and sat down in it. “I was thinking that maybe I would give you an opportunity to win your freedom. What do you say to that?”

“Sir?”

Bramwel laughed. “Of course, you do not know. It is a custom from many years past. A sclava may challenge his master to a duel, by sword, to win his freedom. If he beats his master he goes free.”

“And if he loses?”

“Then his debt is doubled.” Bramwel smiled. “So what do you have to say to that?”

“I don’t know if I am good enough, sir.”

Bramwel got to his feet once more and crossed over to Kieran. He took a hold of his right arm and squeezed it tightly. “This is not a choice I am giving you, Kieran,” he hissed. “I advise you to make that challenge to me. Do I make myself clear?”

Kieran nodded.

Bramwel dropped his grip on Kieran’s arm. “Good. Then we are agreed. I will go and tell my father of your challenge.” He turned to go. “And you have another two or three days to practice, boy. Try and make it a challenge for me.” He laughed out loud and left Kieran to his sweeping.

“Father,” said Bramwel, a little later that day, as he entered the large living room where his father was sat with his head over a book. “I am glad to have found you.”

Lord Cala looked up and smiled. “And what do I owe this pleasure to, Bram?”

“I needed to ask your advice, father.” Bramwel crossed over to his father and took a seat next to him. “I was walking in the sitting room today and came across the sclava Kieran there. He still appeared smug about the incident the other day and spoke up to me, quite out of turn.”

“And you want me to do something to punish him?”

“No father. I do believe he will get punishment enough. He challenged me to a duel for his freedom, as is his right as a sclava.”

Lord Cala laughed. “Surely that cannot be true. No one even remembers this sclava’s right.”

“Apparently he is quite learned, father. And I cannot refuse him. I told him that I agreed and he had two or three days to get himself ready.”

“I cannot agree to this, Bram. I cannot have you fighting sclavas for their freedom. No, I will tell him it cannot be so.”

Bramwel put an arm on his father’s. “But father, do you not think it would be good for our household? Firstly it would show the sclavas how strong we are. Like you said before, if you need to lower their pay then my defeating this boy will lower any objections some may have. No one would dare disagree. And secondly, this would show you that I am now a man, all grown up. That is important to me, father. I want you to accept me into your army one day. Please?”

Lord Cala put his other hand on Bramwel’s and nodded his head. “Well my son, it looks like you have got yourself your first duel. You had better go and prepare yourself.”

Writing Experiment #18 - Ryann Manuscript Part 15

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Sun, 06 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number eighteen in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 6th
Progress: Day 15 complete. Following is the day's writing...

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bramwel walked across the courtyard that led from the east to the west wing of the castle. There was a drizzle of rain in the air and the wind swirled it around him as he walked. The last few days that Bramwel had spent with his father had been almost enjoyable. At last he had learned a lot about the history and why Walthern castle was in so much disrepair. He brushed a few drops of rain from his face and hurried to the doorway that led inside the west wing. He had decided it was time to arm himself with a few more weapons to control the sclavas that would one day be in his employ.

As he climbed the long winding staircase that led to the mostly forgotten rooms atop the west wing, Bramwel thought more of what he needed to do. Control. That was the one constant that had eluded his father for all these years. If he was to be successful, he needed to have control over all his dominion.

Bramwel pushed open a large oak door and stepped inside the sickly sweet-smelling room. “Grubb?” he called out. “Are you here?”

A small door opened up in the far wall and a short wizened old man stepped into the room. “Master Bramwel, my you have grown some. What brings you up here to see me?”

Bramwel crossed over toward the old man and invited him to sit down at a table. “I have come to ask your advice, Grubb.”

The old man chuckled. “Indeed. Indeed. Perhaps you will be the salvation of this household after all.” He cleared a space in front of him at the table and pulled a large book from inside his robe. He placed the book next to him on the table. “Come, join me. Is this what you were looking for?”

Bramwel smiled and took a seat next to the old man. “I remember when I was younger the magics you performed at some of our celebration feasts, but lately I have seen so little of you. My father has been in a doleful mood of late and yesterday I suddenly thought to come see you. I was wondering how you might be able to help us to become a strong family once again.”

Grubb turned to face Bramwel and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. “I knew this day would come, young master. What specifically did you have in mind for me?”

“My father told me that from time to time you provided potions for him; for when he went to battle.”

Grubb chuckled. “Many times. I am sure they each did their job.”

“What sort of potions did you make, Grubb?”

Grubb opened the book that was in front of him and flicked through it. “Sleeping sickness; boils and welts; scurvy; black spot; and dippermouth. Those were the most popular.” He smiled and turned once more to face Bramwel. “And what use would you be having for these?”

“I am not sure. But I thought it was important to know what I had in my armory. I am sure the need for something will catch me unprepared.”

“Indeed,” Grubb chuckled once more. “I can see I had better pay you more attention.” He got to his feet, crossed over to the far side of the room and started digging through several drawers attached to a large cupboard. “Ah, here we are,” he said after a little while.” He held up a small vial to the light, as if to examine it, and then nodded his head. “This will do.” Walking back over to Bramwel, he held out the vial.

“What is it for?” asked Bramwel, taking it from him.

“There will come a time very soon when you will need this. Do not drink of it, nor smell it close, but instead pour a drop or two on your sword. It will aid in the dispatch of an enemy.”

“But I have no enemies and am not in my father’s army, Grubb.”

Grubb put his arms around Bramwel’s shoulders and ushered him to the door of his room. “Shhh. No more. Take this and go. I will see you again when it is done.”

Bramwel stood alone in the empty corridor with the small vial in his hand after Grubb had shut the door. He put the vial into a pocket and started walking back downstairs. What had the old man meant? It was certainly a mystery to him. A vial of poison that he should use on his sword. What use would he have for that?

At the bottom of the staircase he pushed open the door that led back into the courtyard and braced himself against the strong cold wind. Instead of heading back to the east wing of the castle, he walked southward toward the guards’ quarters.

“Captain,” Bramwel greeted the captain, who was standing outside the guard-house, smoking some kind of leaf in a clay pipe. Bramwel breathed in the musty scent and coughed. “Captain. Do you have time for a question?”

The captain breathed out a tendril of smoke and watched as the wind took it and pulled it apart in front of him. “Young Master Bramwel. What brings you here?”

Bramwel waved away the smoke that was threatening to engulf his face. “I was speaking to my father these past few days and we were discussing some of the battles that he fought. There was one that he did not tell me about; one that he lost. I found a tapestry of it hidden away in the castle and was wondering if you could tell me more about it?”

The captain removed the pipe from his mouth and let it rest in his hand. “Yes, I remember that battle. It was the first time he had fought without Kenrik at his side.”

“Who was Kenrik?”

“Kenrik was the Lord’s most trusted sclava. He was a brilliant tactician and the reason for your father’s, and his father’s, success. The first time he fought a battle without him, he lost. He hasn’t fought another battle since.”

So what happened to Kenrik? Did he die?”

The captain laughed. “No. He won his freedom. By all accounts he had saved nearly enough money to pay his sclava debt and he approached your father to inquire as to his freedom. Your father was annoyed with Kenrik and challenged him to a duel. In the old days, this was another way a sclava could gain their freedom. They could challenge their master to a duel. Win and they would be free; lose and their debt would be doubled. Of course, very few ever won their freedom that way, their swordsmanship skills were always too poor.”

“And Kenrik won?”

The captain nodded. “Yes. It broke your father’s heart. He has never fought since.” He put his pipe back into his mouth and sucked on it until a little smoke escaped from it.

“Thank you, captain,” Bramwel said, turning away. “I think I need to go and find someone now.”

Writing Experiment #17 - Ryann Manuscript Part 14

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Sat, 05 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number seventeen in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 5th
Progress: Day 14 complete. Following is the day's writing (Chapter Seven continued)...

“Do I have to?” asked Ryann as cook pulled her out of bed.

“Come on, you’re almost fully recovered now and trying these on will surely put a smile on your face.”

“But I just want to sleep a little longer. Just a little.”

“You’ve slept enough for a small army, little one, these past few days.” Cook laughed and hugged Ryann to her. “Now slip off that nightdress and try this new dress on.”

Ryann stepped back from cook, pulled her tight fitting nightdress over her head, and picked up the new brown dress that was laying on a chair next to her bed. “It’s a little big,” she said, letting it drop over her shoulders.

“Nonsense. You’ll be grown into that in no time. Good. Now try on these other clothes.”

Ryann grunted and groaned as she pulled on and off various garments that cook had delivered to her room. Finally she was done and she picked up her nightdress once more.

“Hold it there,” said cook, pulling the nightdress away from Ryann. “That’s going too. It’s a miracle it hasn’t already pulled itself apart. There’s a new one on the end of your bed.”

Ryann leaned forward and grasped the new nightdress. She held it to her face and breathed in its aroma. “Roses. It smells of roses.”

Cook chuckled. “One of the girls rubbed a few petals into it. She thought it would help you grow attached to it.”

“It’s beautiful.” Ryann slipped it over her head and did a quick twirl. “Now can I go back to bed?”

“I suppose you can, Ryann. But just make sure you’re up bright and early in the morning. No more rest for you. It’s back to Master Bramwel’s duties tomorrow.”

Ryann hugged cook one more time before lying down on her bed. “Bright and early,” she repeated as she watched cook leave the room.

Ryann turned to face the wall and counted the marks she had made there. “Forty-two.” The punishment from Bramwel and the cost of new clothes had reduced her savings quite considerably. It was going to take forever to save the twenty silver coins to buy her freedom. She tried to do a little math in her head. Forty copper coins was equal to two silver coins, and that meant she still had to earn another eighteen silver coins. Surely that couldn’t be correct. But it was. She knew it was true. She dropped her head to the bed and closed her eyes. It was no wonder that everyone stayed at the castle forever. Perhaps the only way out was like Megan. A tear welled up in her eye. She hoped not. There had to be another way. She had to earn the money somehow.

Tomorrow she would ask cook how many people had bought their freedom. Cook would know. Maybe cook could even help her to earn a little more money. She smiled and closed her eyes even tighter before suddenly sitting up with a shock. “Where’s my hairbrush? Cook said she would get me a hairbrush.” She frantically looked around the bed and on the chair beyond, but she couldn’t find one. Maybe cook had forgotten. Or maybe cook planned to cut her hair after all. A thousand thoughts went through her head as she dropped off to sleep.

“Good morning,” cook said the following morning as Ryann walked into the kitchen. “That dress suits you so well, but look at your hair. Didn’t you even wash it this morning?”

“I couldn’t find my new brush,” said Ryann, sitting down at the kitchen table.

“It hasn’t arrived yet,” laughed cook. “They said it would take a couple of days to get one for you from the town. As soon as you’ve had some breakfast you’d better go and do something about that mop of yours. Master Bramwel will have you beaten if you’re not looking your best.”

Ryann smiled, glad that she was going to keep her tangled locks after all. “Yes cook.”

“Hey, you’re up again?” Kieran asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Hi,” smiled Ryann.

Kieran sat down next to Ryann and picked up some bread from the table. He leaned in close to Ryann. “I got Bramwel into trouble the other day with Lord Cala.”

“What happened?” Ryann listened as Kieran told her the story of Bramwel in the sitting room. “Has he punished you yet?” she asked after he had finished.

“I don’t think he dares. After all, Lord Cala thought it was funny. But I need to be extra careful in future. He’s bound to be on the lookout for me from now on.” Kieran swallowed some bread before continuing. “Actually I’m glad you’re well again. It’s been a lot of extra work doing your duties as well as mine.”

“I know. I’m really grateful, Kieran. Truly.” She leaned across and kissed him on the cheek.

“None of that you two,” cook interrupted from the far side of the kitchen. “And you, little Miss Ryann, you need to get straight to Master Bramwel’s room. I’m sure he’ll be waiting for you by now.”

Ryann blushed and got to her feet. “Yes cook. I’m just leaving.” She smiled at Kieran. “See you later,” she whispered.

Writing Experiment #16 - Ryann Manuscript Part 13

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Fri, 04 May 2012 15:10:00 +0000

This is number sixteen in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 4th
Progress: Day 13 complete. Following is the day's writing...

CHAPTER SEVEN

Bramwel lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. It had been a bad day. He had been humiliated by his father in front of the sclava, Kieran, and now he was going to have to study extra hard as well. He took his toy wooden horse from under the covers next to him and pulled it close to his chest. “What secrets have you got to tell me, Stampede?” he asked. “What battles have you fought?”

“Still playing with that horse then?” Lord Cala said, entering Bramwel’s room.

Bramwel sat up on his bed and hurriedly put the horse down. “I was just thinking, father.”

Lord Cala made a noise like he was clearing his throat and crossed over to Bramwel. “I have come to a decision, Bram. I have decided to do some of your teaching myself. I should have realized how difficult it would be to concentrate on your own. I had forgotten just how many things your mother used to do around here.” He sighed. “I do miss her and I know you do too.”

Bramwel nodded. “I do miss her, father. It’s very lonely sometimes.”

Lord Cala ruffled Bramwel’s hair. “So, up you get and bring yourself and your books to my study. I will be waiting for you there in a few minutes.”

“Really father? Today?”

“Yes, today,” Lord Cala laughed. “I have important business to attend to very soon and so we should get started on this straight away.” He turned to leave Bramwel’s room. “Five minutes.”

Bramwel forced himself to his feet and walked over to his side table. He slid the toy horse underneath and picked up the books that were sitting on top. “Oh well, at least this will spare Kieran for another day. And where is that girl, Ryann? She’s never here when she’s needed.”

“Sit down,” Lord Cala said as Bramwel entered the study. “Over there by the big table. And open that big history book. Yes the one with the drawings inside.”

Bramwel took a seat at the table and opened up the largest of his books. “Where do you want me to look?”

“It doesn’t matter right now. First I want to tell you a little story.” Lord Cala waled over to the table a took a seat opposite Bramwel. “Tell me what you know about our history; the Walthern history.”

Bramwel sat back in his chair and thought for a few moments before replying. “Walthern Castle was built over a hundred years ago after a big battle was fought against the heathens. Your great-great-grandfather was given the land in return for his services to the king, and also the money to build the castle. Your great-great-grandfather settled into the castle and soon a small town sprang up. The town was named Walthern, in honor of the king’s brother, and life pretty much went on as usual after that. The number of battles fought slowly went down and peace ensued in the country.”

Lord Cala smiled. “At least you know some of our history, Bram. And did you learn any of this from our history books?”

“Not really, father. There is only the smallest mention of Walthern in my books. What I know I have learned from mother and from others in your army.”

“Well, you’re fourteen years of age now and soon to become a man. It is time I told you a little more of our real history.” Lord Cala made himself more comfortable in his chair and leaned in toward Bramwel. “When my great-great-grandfather moved into this castle he had an army of nearly three thousand men. That is why the town grew up so quickly. All those men needed lodging and supplies. Men and women came from all over the country to help build the town. At one time I believe there were nearly ten thousand people living in Walthern.”

“So why is the town so small today, father?”

“It is like you said, Bram. Most of the battles went away. The old king died, and so too did his son. Then we entered into several treaties after my father, and others like him, lost key battles. After your grandfather was killed in battle, I took his place. But times were not kind to me. By that time our army had dwindled to just over a thousand men and many townsfolk had become disenchanted with life here and moved elsewhere. I lost a couple more battles, fighting alongside the remaining loyalists, and then I returned home. This all happened before you were born. Then once the final treaty was signed, there was no more need for war. Today I have less than five hundred men remaining, and the town numbers at most four thousand people.”

“So will we never fight another battle, father?”

Lord Cala smiled and wiped his eye. “I don’t believe so, Bram. The heart is no longer there to fight for our country.”

“So why do we keep the army?”

“For the sake of the people. If I were to let the army go then maybe the whole town would be abandoned.”

“But what about the sclavas and the other people? What would they do without the castle?”

“Bram, I haven’t told you everything yet. There were once several hundred sclavas who lived in the castle, preparing everything and keeping it the way it should be. Today we have about sixty. Haven’t you noticed that some rooms have been abandoned and that corridors are free of people? Even at dinner we are only attended to by a handful of sclavas.”

“I didn’t know that was unusual, father.”

“Even my father would throw lavish feasts at least once a week, and music-makers would come in from town to play. Today we can only afford to do this one time a year.” Lord Cala leaned forward again and lowered his voice. “In truth, I am worried that very soon we may have to abandon the castle altogether. At the very least we will have to let many more of our sclavas go, or cut their wages.”

“We cannot let them go, father. What will they do and what example will it set to the others? No, it is better we just pay them less and tax the people more.”

“At least you have a good head on your shoulders, Bram,” Lord Cala said, getting up from the table. “And we will discuss more of this over the coming weeks. But now we need to get down to some real studying. If you are to inherit this castle from me one day, you should at least know who and what you are going to be dealing with.” He walked around to stand behind Bramwel. “So let’s start with the story of King Brokk, the one true enemy of my father and his father before him.”

Writing Experiment #15 - Ryann Manuscript Part 12

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Thu, 03 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number fifteen in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 3rd
Progress: Day 12 complete. Following is the day's writing (Chapter Six continued)...

“Just look at the state of you,” cook said, pulling a shivering Ryann into the kitchen. “Just what have you been doing?”

Ryann sat down on a chair and allowed cook to drape a towel over her shoulders. “It started raining and then the barrow tipped over and I lost the vegetables. By the time I had collected them all up again I was wet through to my skin.”

“Dear, oh dear,” cook continued, rubbing Ryann’s back with the towel. “You should have just left them. They would have waited until the rain stopped.” She took a step back from Ryann and pulled off the towel. “And now your dress is going to be no good to anyone. You’re definitely going to need those new clothes in a hurry.” She pulled Ryann to her feet. “Now get off to your room and change out of those clothes. I’ll send one of the girls to warm up a tub of water for you. We don’t need you catching a chill, do we?”

Ryann hurriedly made her way back to her room and pulled off her clothes. Then she pulled on a nightdress and wrapped a robe around her, before sitting down on her bed to wait.

“What’s happening?” Ryann asked, a little later in the afternoon.

“Shhh. Quiet little one. Don’t say anything.” Cook mopped Ryann’s brow with a damp cloth and pushed her back onto the bed. “You’ve caught yourself a fever. You’re going to have to rest here for a day or two.”

Ryann tried to sit up again, but cook held her fast. “But I’ve got things to do. Master Bramwel will beat me if I’m late.”

“Shhh. Don’t you worry about anything. We’ll take care of it. Just get some rest.”

Ryann closed her eyes once more and quickly fell into sleep.

“Well what are we going to do?” cook asked the sclavas gathered around the kitchen table, a little later that day. “Ryann’s right about one thing, Master Bramwel still needs attending to. Who’s got any ideas?”

“I can do it,” said Kieran. “I’ll make the time up someway.”

“You’re never going to get enough free time to attend to Master Bramwel as well as the Lord, Kieran. No, someone else will have to help.”

“It’s okay, I can do it. And I know how Bramwel likes things. I’m the best person suited for the job. You know that. And especially at the moment while we’re waiting for another sclava to replace little Megan, it’s the best solution.” Kieran looked around the table and smiled as a few of the others nodded their agreement.

“Well, if you’re sure, Kieran. But make sure you come to me if you can’t manage it. You know what a temper that boy has and we don’t want you or Ryann taking a beating because of it.”

Kieran nodded. “Of course, cook. But I think I can handle myself. Who knows, maybe Ryann will even have it a little easier when she is recovered.”

Cook laughed. “I wouldn’t go counting on that. I just hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.”

“Pardon, Lord Cala,” Kieran said as he walked into the large sitting room.

Lord Cala looked up from his seat and beckoned Kieran in. “It’s okay, lad. Bramwel and myself were just having a chat. You can carry on tidying up.”

Kieran briefly bowed and made his way toward the window where there was a pile of papers lying on the floor. He bent down and started to tidy them.

“Now tell me about your studying?” Lord Cala asked Bramwel.

“I have been busy, father. I have been studying some of the battles you were involved in.”

“Really? And what have you been reading?”

“I read that you led a great army across the moors and attacked the heathens of Kariwick.” Bramwel paused and looked around the room.

“And?” Lord Cala leaned forward in his seat.

“I read that the battle was lost and a great many soldiers were killed, sire.”

“And what did you learn?”

“Learn? I just told you what I learned, father.”

“You told me what you had read, but studying is about learning. So what did you learn?”

Bramwel opened his mouth and closed it again before replying. “I learned the history of the battle.”

“And what about tactics, strategy, terrain, and consequences?” Lord Cala shouted, getting to his feet. “What did you learn about them?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that.”

Lord Cala started to pace the room, impatient for Bramwel’s reply. “Well?”

“Having a horse is important,” Bramwel stuttered. “I’d like a big white horse, just like you had.”

Lord Cala strode over to Bramwel and slapped him across the face. “A horse? What has that to do with battle?”

Across the room, Kieran laughed.

Lord Cala quickly turned to face Kieran and stared at the boy. “Perhaps you have an answer for that, do you?”

Kieran picked up the tidied stack of papers and put them on a side table. “Sorry your lordship. I was just thinking about Master Bramwel.”

“What about him?”

“Sorry. It’s nothing. Nothing at all.”

Lord Cala took a couple of steps toward Kieran. “Spit it out, boy. You interrupted our conversation with a laugh. I want to know what you were thinking.”

“It’s just that Master Bramwel only ever thinks of his horse, sire. His white toy horse. He plays with it all the time and imagines himself riding it into battle.”

Lord Cala roared with laughter and turned toward his son. “Is that so?”

Bramwel’s face turned a bright red and it puffed up like it was going to explode.

“You and your toys, Bramwel. I have told you before, you are too old to be playing with toys. I am going to start supervising your study time in future.” He turned back toward Kieran. “And you. In future you are to keep silent unless you are spoken to. This time I will forgive you. I haven’t had such a good laugh for a very long time. The thought of my son playing toy battles and reading about them just for the history will excuse you this once. Now before I change my mind, get out and go do something else.”

“Yes sire,” Kieran said, hurriedly walking out of the room.

May Edition - One Read At A Time

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Thu, 03 May 2012 10:00:00 +0000

Enclosed is the May edition of One Read At A Time, - The Indie Authors magazine. Please click to view. Enjoy!

Writing Experiment #14 - Ryann Manuscript Part 11

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Wed, 02 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number fourteen in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 2nd
Progress: Day 11 complete. Following is the day's writing...

CHAPTER SIX

“It’s no good Ryann, we’re going to have to do something about your clothes.” Cook ran a hand down Ryann’s dress and made a tutting sound as she did so.

“I just seem to be growing so fast, cook.”

Cook laughed. “Only a few weeks here and you’ve already lost that puppy fat of yours and you’re shooting up like a little sapling. Let’s take a good look at you.” She spun Ryann around and examined her back. “Just about ready to tear at the seams.”

Ryann looked up at cook. “Is it going to cost much?”

“We’ll have to ask the housekeeper, but I would guess probably five copper coins for a couple of new dresses and some other bits and pieces.”

“Five coins? Everything is so expensive.”

Cook ran a hand through Ryann’s hair. “I know, little one. That’s what it is. And maybe we should do something about your hair too.”

“You mean to cut it?” asked Ryann.

“Maybe that’s for the best. Look at it. I’m surprised you haven’t had birds nesting in it by now.”

“But I don’t want my hair cut, cook. I like it long.”

“Then we’re going to have to get you a brush too. That will be another copper coin no doubt. But it’s your choice. Either way you’re going to have to keep it tidier than this.”

Ryann tugged at a few knots in her hair and made a face. “Then I guess I’ll have to. When will we see the housekeeper?”

Cook laughed. “You won’t be, little one. But I’ll see to it later today. I’ll try and keep the total cost of everything to five coins.” She turned back toward the stove. “Now I need to get started with the meals for the day. Run off now and get me some vegetables from the garden. The gardener should have left out some potatoes and carrots. Maybe even a cabbage or two. Run along and go see, will you? And make sure you get the best ones. None of those maggot-filled carrots like last week.”

Ryann got to her feet and trudged out of the kitchen and along a corridor that led to the back garden. Five more copper coins. When was it all going to end? Every time she earned a few coins, she lost more. It was going to take forever to save up twenty silver coins unless she could find a way to earn more. She would have to ask cook later if there was something she could do to earn extra money.

She pulled open the door that led to the back yard and stepped out into the cold morning air. A shiver ran down her spine. She should have pulled on a robe before coming outside. Oh well, as long as she was quick it would all be fine. As she was walking along the path that led to the garden she heard a noise coming from nearby. She could hear shouting and what sounded like the banging of wood.

“No. Higher… Keep your guard higher… Yes. That’s right…”

Ryann crossed between two hedges and came out into an open space. She laughed. In front of her, stripped down to his undershirt and pants, Kieran was practicing, with a wooden sword, against a very old man. The man was obviously a lot better than Kieran as he was already very red in the face and panting for breath.

“Higher, boy… Concentrate.” The man shouted at Kieran again.

Ryann stopped, took a step backward, and leaned against the hedge, semi-hidden, to watch. When Kieran had said he was going out to practice she hadn’t realized what he had meant. Now it was obvious. He was learning the sword in his spare time. Perhaps he wanted to fight; to be strong. She ran a finger through her hair and pulled out a few knots. He wasn’t so bad after all, this Kieran. He was going to turn into a real man. She blushed as she caught herself staring at his bare arms. He was definitely showing a few muscles already.

“Vegetables,” Ryann said under her breath.

Reluctantly Ryann turned away from Kieran, crossed back between the hedges and re-found the path that led to the gardens. She soon found the gardener and he loaded up a barrow for her with potatoes, carrots, cabbages and a few leeks.

“You alright with that, lassie?” he asked, smiling from ear to ear.

“I’ll be fine,” Ryann replied, struggling to lift the barrow and push it back along the path.

“Just you take care now.”

Ryann continued to carefully push the barrow, ignoring the laughs of the gardener behind her. If Kieran could make himself strong then maybe she could do the same too. Maybe she needed to do more physical work to build up her strength. She would have to ask cook about that as well when she got back.

As the path ended and turned to grass for a little distance, Ryann stopped to regain her breath. She looked toward the sky as a few drops of rain landed on her head. She hastily picked up the handles of the barrow and pushed it forward again, but it caught in a little rut in the grass and tipped to one side before Ryann could steady it. The barrow fell to the ground and the vegetables rolled in every direction. Just then the rain started to fall in anger.

Ryann righted the barrow as quickly as she could and ran to and fro gathering all the vegetables together. As soon as they were all safely back inside, she lifted the barrow up again and managed to push it forward across what was fast becoming very marshy grass. She stopped for a moment and wiped her brow with one hand before continuing. She was already soaked through to the skin from the rain and she was starting to get very cold too. Still, only a few more yards until she reached the path again. With a final push she managed to get the barrow up onto the path and she steered it toward the back door that led inside.

With a final sneeze and a sniff of her nose, she reached the door, set the barrow down and pushed the door open.

Writing Experiment #13 - Ryann Manuscript Part 10

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Dorset) — Tue, 01 May 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This is number thirteen in a series of posts where I document the complete process of writing a novella - Day By Day!

INTRODUCTION

I am documenting (via my blog) the complete start to finish experience of writing a novella that I will be releasing for FREE once it is written.

Ryann is the story of a thirteen year-old girl who works as a servant for a tyrant of a master, and longs for the day when she can buy her freedom. The novella will serve as the introduction to a new fantasy series that I will start writing in 2013.

I will be writing approximately 900 words per day and I will post each day's writing the following morning, unedited, on my blog. This means you get to see my draft with all its original spelling mistakes, bad grammar, and clumsy sentences

The timeline for the experiment is as follows:

Plotting, Characters and Scene Outlines - April 1to April 20 - COMPLETE
First Draft Manuscript - April 21 to May 18 - IN PROGRESS
First Manuscript Edits - July 1to July 5
Reader Proofs - July 6 to July 25
Final Manuscript Edits - July 26to July 31

STATUS

Today's Date: May 1st
Progress: Day 10 complete. Following is the day's writing (Chapter Five continued)...

It was the first time in a long while that Bramwel had actually studied his books. He had been trying to find out more about the tapestry he had brought to his room the day before. He had thought about asking his father but had decided against it in case there was a bad reason the tapestry had been put in that room, hidden away. More likely than not there was a reason, and Bramwel didn’t want to be on the wrong end of his father’s temper.

He picked up his toy white horse and compared it to the one in the tapestry that was laid out on the floor in front of him. The toy horse looked very similar to the one in the tapestry. Almost identical. Maybe it had been copied from there. Bramwel tried to remember when he had first received the toy horse. It had been a gift from his mother, he remembered that much. Probably about three years ago. After all, his mother had been dead for more than two years now. Yes, probably about three years ago.

Bramwel put the toy horse down, rolled up the tapestry, and pushed it back under his bed. He would take another look at it later in the day. He picked up his white horse again and crossed to the window and stared outside. One day he was going to get a real white horse of his own. One that he could ride. “I will ride it into battle,” he said out loud. “I will ride you to victory, white horse.” He pushed the toy horse up against the window and made a few galloping sounds. “One day, little white horse.”

Hearing a noise, Bramwel turned around. Ryann was tidying his bed and moving a few things. “When did you get here?”

“Just now, master,” Ryann replied, curtsying and carrying on with her chores.

Bramwel hurriedly pulled the white horse close to his chest and walked across the room to put it back into its storage place. “Just make sure you do a proper job today,” he muttered, quickly leaving the room.

As soon as Bramwel had gone, Ryann stopped what she was doing and walked over to where she had seen Bramwel put the horse. She picked it up and smiled. She turned it over in her hands a few times before replacing it under the table. Who’d have thought that Bramwel had a toy horse? Surely he was a little too old to be playing with something like that? She returned to the bed and straightened the pillows. But there was something else. She couldn’t quite work out what it was, but something was tugging at the back of her mind. Oh well, maybe it would come to her later.

Ryann picked up some of Bramwel’s dirty clothes and tucked them under her arm. She took a final look around the room and then she walked back toward the kitchen, stopping at the laundry area to drop off the clothes.

“Hi there, Kieran,” she said, seeing him sitting at a table in the kitchen. “Have you finished all your chores already?”

Kieran looked up from his bowl of soup. “No, I was just having a quick snack. I’m really hungry today and cook has made one of her tasty soups.” He pointed to the stove-top. “Why don’t you get a bowl too?”

Ryann shook her head. “I’m fine.” Ryann crossed over and sat down next to Kieran. “Do you remember that tapestry we saw yesterday?”

“The one I showed you?”

Ryann nodded. “It’s in Bramwel’s bedroom now. He had it laid out on the floor yesterday. He must have taken it from that room you showed me.”

“Yeah, he nearly caught me yesterday. I guess he must have gone through that door and found it. I’ll have to be more careful in future.”

“And he has a toy horse that is just like it,” continued Ryann.

“What?”

“Bramwel. He has a white wooden toy horse that is just like the one from the tapestry. I saw him playing with it today when I went there to do my chores.”

“And what do you think that means?” asked Kieran, finishing off his soup and getting up to take the empty bowl to another table.

“I don’t know. But don’t you think it’s a big coincidence not to mean anything?”

Kieran laughed and cross over toward Ryann. He ruffled her hair as he passed, and continued walking until he was out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you later, Ree. I have some practicing to do.”

Ryann watched Kieran as he disappeared up the corridor. He really was quite handsome. He was a little taller than she was and he had nice short-cropped ginger hair. And he always seemed to almost float as he walked along the corridors. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Of course she had, it was just that he never used to pay any attention to her. Not until Megan had died. Poor Megan.

Ryann wished she didn’t have to live in the castle. If only she had enough money to buy her freedom, she could leave and marry Kieran. She blushed. What was she thinking? She couldn’t marry. No sclava was ever allowed to marry. She put a hand to her face in the hope that the heat had gone from it and then she got to her feet. “Oh well,” she said. “I guess I had better get back to the master’s room and clean out that chest.” At least that would take her mind away from thinking about Kieran.