The short story that morphed in to a novel.

Tomorrow NaNoWriMo begins. As does my task of taking Deveron on his journey to retrieve the Draco Stone and return it to the Opinouwi. For now I would like to share with you the short story that started it all.

Actually it is not soooooooo short…2,967 words to be exact.

I hope you will get settled with a coffee, or a cup of tea, curl your feet under you, let the cat out, turn off the phone and read.

I really would love to hear your thoughts on this. Of all that I have done so far…this story is a defining moment for me. For it set me on a previously unimagined path. The one of trying to become a published author. If you hate it…don’t worry. It was written long ago…and I know it needs improving in many areas. I thought though that I should put it up as it was. Also, I am Australian born. We have thick skins. I have also lived in New Zealand for nearly 20 years. Kiwis don’t say much…they are very…hmmmm…stoic. It’s rubbing off on me. So feel free to let me have it either way. Just don’t stay silent. I NEED your thoughts to improve as a writer.

The Draco Stone…by Jo Bryant

Behind their green-eyed leader the troop rode in formation, rows two wide, as they entered the Elusive City. Streamers of flowers waved them along the path, floating down to lay entangled in their hair, as they made their way to the Citadel. Underneath the hooves of the unicorns the road crunched as they landed on the bones of their ancient enemy, the Sadistiens. Though worn and compacted, the outlines of their bleached skulls from a century of warfare were still visible.

Leading the march was Deveron. His hair brushed his shoulders as he rode, the streamers so thick they hung about him like a rainbow cape. Sitting tall and straight, his eyes focussed ahead, ignoring the wall of sound that surrounded them. As he passed, he noticed how the children were all pointing in his direction. This did not surprise him, he knew for many it was their first sighting of a unicorn. Wraith was enjoying the attention. The sound of Wraith’s voice inside his head startled Deveron out of his own thoughts.

‘They scream your name Deveron.’

‘Only because they do not realise…’

‘It does you no good to blame yourself.’

‘I know that your intention is good Wraith.’

‘You would rather I kept my thoughts to myself.’

‘I do not need you in my head. I must…’

‘Prepare.’

At that, the unicorn closed the connection between their minds.

Wraith’s stark white coat was broken up with great slashes of black and silver, running from his backbone vertically down to his feet. His markings were unique. He had been a gift from his father. Deveron wondered if there was a meaning behind the gift, Wraith was often the most complex of the creatures, but he trusted him as he did his own limbs.

As they approached the Citadel, he urged him into a gallop and left the deafening mass behind. Waiting on the stairs outside stood a group of Officials. Deveron grabbed a bag from his saddle, before kneeling on the stairs bowing his head. A young groom stepped forward to take Wraith’s halter.

Wraith’s ebony eyes looked over the groom with amusement.

Do not bedevil the lad Wraith,’ Deveron warned, glaring at him. The groom’s hand trembled as he took Wraith’s halter from Deveron.

“Be careful lad,” he advised. “He is likely to draw on trickery to get his way. Make sure he is settled and bedded before leaving. I should hate to have to scold you on my first day home.” The groom’s eyes widened and he quivered, Deveron smiled at him. “It’s all right lad. I’m much too weary to be stern today.” He stood up and turned his attention back to the Officials before him.

“Deveron,” the tallest one spoke holding out his hand. “It is wonderful to see you, but you look weighted, my son.”

“Thank you, Father. It is a great honour that you would welcome me publicly. I had not expected it,” he looked away from his father’s face as it searched his. Pain flitted briefly across Runolf’s eyes.

“Come,” Runolf’s voice wavered as he turned and led the way into the Citadel. “We have much to discuss.” Inside the entrance, under massive carved crevasses running vertically from floor to ceiling, stood large stone vases. Deveron and his father stared into the dim recesses, before looking to each other.

“We’ll leave you Runolf,” said one of the Officials. Bowing slightly to both men, they mounted a large stairwell. Deveron and his father waited until they were no longer visible before turning into an open doorway.

“Wait,” his father urged, closing the door. “For old men, some still have unaccountably good hearing.”

The room they entered had a window from floor to ceiling, as wide as four men – their arms stretched wide between them. The walls were white and grey marble, long slender rectangles bordered by light green. In between each panel, slits – the width of a man’s hand – ran vertically. Steam rose continuously in the panels, warming the room and refreshing the air.

“Come, sit with me,” his father sat on a divan near the large window. He waved for Deveron to sit opposite. Reaching out he took a decanter from the table between them. “A toast,” he said pouring the dark red liquid into two glasses. “To your return…and to those who did not.”  Deveron placed the saddle bag on the ground. Taking a glass he downed the liquid, sat, laid his head back, and closed his eyes. His father watched, and remained silent.

“You would like me to speak of it?” Deveron asked.

“I, yes,” Runolf paused. “I need you to speak of it.”

Keeping his eyes closed Deveron ran a hand through his thick russet hair. His chest rose as he sighed deeply.

“Then there is much to tell.” Opening his eyes he sat up. For many breaths he was silent, looking past his father, through the glass to the city spread out before him. The only sound came from the steam bubbling up through the crevasses. His father waited, and watched his son’s green eyes flicker with emotions. Deveron held out his glass and Runolf filled it. Emptying it in one movement, he set it aside and looked directly at his father.

“We journeyed for weeks after we left, with no sign of them. It seemed as if they were just an imagined thing, a delusion in the Elder’s minds. We crossed the Symian Desert and saw no tracks before us, not one grain of sand turned over and pressed down under their feet, though there was a flavour to the air that spoke of their passing.” He paused to pour more liquid into his glass then raised it to his lips. Runolf remained motionless, waiting for Deveron to resume his tale.

“We were at the Abyss Lakes before we found evidence of their passage, a patch of compacted grass, a footprint by the shore, a branch fractured or bent, slivers of hair caught between thorns. Small things; so small I wondered if I was looking too hard. We pushed forward, stopping only when night forced us to.” He paused, his eyes closing again, as if he could no longer bear to look at Runolf.

“It was on the fourth night at the lakes that we knew. The men were tired, so we stopped early. We let the unicorns loose, and as we ate the night settled around us. It was during the second watch.” He paused, and dropped his head into his hands.

“Zak was drawn away from the camp. I can only guess that some disturbance made him curious, but that it seemed minor. He roused no-one. I found him as dawn broke. He lay on his back as if asleep.” Deveron lifted his head and stared at his father.

“His sword was sheathed, and I made to rouse him. My intention was to…when I saw a thin line of red on his neck. There was so little blood, I still believed, but he was no longer a part of this world.” Both men had tears forming as he continued.

“I could not bring myself to leave him. I held his head on my lap and told him to be valiant. I spoke to him; telling him that I would make sure his crossing would be easy. I prayed for his spirit, and spoke the words of the departed for him. I was almost finished when Jareth found us. The men were fortunate that Zak’s murderers had left the area – perhaps they thought him a lone seeker – for I had spoken not one word of warning.” Deveron bowed his head.

“Forgive me Father. I have dishonoured us, and cost the life of a beloved son. My arrogance, my belief that we were indomitable, is the reason Zak is gone.”

“You are not to blame,” Runolf held up a hand to stop his son from speaking. “I should not have allowed Zak to go. My pride…is at fault. I sought glory for both my sons, selfishly. I demanded our legacy to be one of courage and honour.” He stopped, swallowing hard. “Living should have been enough.” Nodding at his son, he signalled that Deveron should continue.

“Zak’s interment delayed us. I am sorry we could not bring him home, but I did all that I could to make his journey a swift one. I swear to you Father, that I performed the proper rites. After we lay Zak to rest we began to search in earnest. Evijan found traces of their camp some two hundred luerons from the lakes.”

“Many cycles passed but finally we knew that we were closing the distance. They no longer took as much care trying to obliterate traces of their whereabouts.”

Outside, the light began to fade. As darkness crept into the room Runolf held up his palm and stood. Deveron observed that his father seemed to have shrunk in the time he had been seated.

“I shall arrange for something to eat. I feel the need for a respite.” He walked over to a large desk and pressed a button. “We shall continue with your chronicle, after,” he said, looking away from his son. “Age,” he pursed his lips outward. “It demands you take more mind of what you do.”

Within minutes a young woman glided into the room, pushing a trolley laden with food and a full decanter. She bowed deeply before leaving. Deveron made no move towards it.

“Come, eat something. I had them prepare some things you like.”

“I have little appetite these days Father,” he replied. Runolf approached his son and sat on the small table.

“Son, I share your grief, but Zak was eager to go with you. We have…lost a part of us forever.” Leaning forward he placed his palms on each side of Deveron’s face. “And yet we go on. Do not waste what you still have by letting this overwhelm you. He would not want that for you.” Taking his son’s hand he pulled him upright.

They ate in silence. When finished, the first of the three moons had risen and the city was dotted with tiny orbs of light from the dwellings of the populace. A small circle of light cocooned around them in the otherwise dark room. Deveron leant forward and began the rest of his tale.

“Evijan was convinced that they had entered the Devil’s Den. We approached the opening from the right side of Malodorous Bay,” his frame shuddered slightly.

“I’ve never seen such a place of despair. Evil emanates from every surface. Even the unicorns were affected; in the end we dismounted to guide them. Not until we were through did we find any more signs. For twenty eight cycles we kept moving. None of us wanted to rest until we were out.

The Cross Mountains are the first thing you see when you leave that foul place. They are a balm to your soul after the Devil’s Den. Evijan found traces of them and although none of us had slept, we spurred the unicorns on. As we closed the distance we could feel them, the stench from their tainted bodies left a trail as clear as a signpost. Every trace of fatigue was gone.

Far off, a spiral of smoke drew our attention. We dismounted some five luerons from it and let the unicorns loose. I sent five men to circle around the right of them, and five to the left. Jareth and Evijan came with me, as we followed their tracks.

Each group got as close as we dared, and then we waited until the second moon was high. Their sentries were disposed of quietly, one by one. I counted fifteen asleep; they were spread out around the fire. We worked as silently as possible, slowly dispatching them by slicing their throats, as they had done to Zak.” Both Deveron and his father drew a deep breath at the mention of Zak. Runolf nodded for his son to continue.

“Their leader was easy to discern, and my group approached him while the others continued sending the rest of them to hell. Jareth tapped him with his sword. It was laughable, the surprise on his fetid features when he realised what we were about. Beside the fire lay a satchel. It seemed impossible to me, that they would be so cavalier with the stone. Yet the way the leader looked, I knew that it lay inside.

As I bent to retrieve it he went mad, foul sounds poured out of his mouth, and he rushed to stop me. Jareth and Evijan held him at the point of their swords, and he began screaming. Once I had the satchel, I opened it. The stone fell out into my hand. The beast knew that it was over. I nodded to Jareth, and he drove his sword through its neck.”

“May I see it now?” Runolf asked. Deveron lifted the bag and handed it over. Gently Runolf laid the bag on his lap and reached inside. As he withdrew his hand he smiled the first real smile in hours.

“It is more beautiful than I remember.” In his hands the stone threw off a modest luminous glow. Etched into it was the figure of a dragon with a woman’s upper body. The deep lines seemed to move so that the creature swayed and her long tresses wafted around her.

“I’ve never seen the stone out of its place. Intriguing isn’t it? I did not know there was a carving of Draco on it.”

“I too was surprised by it at first,” Deveron replied. “But it seems logical, that she would not leave us… completely. That the stone would bear something, to mark it forever, as her gift to us.”

“We must return her to the chapel. It is a great thing you have done my son. You and your men have bought home the heart that beats inside our people’s essence.” Runolf stood, reverently clasping the stone. “I should like for you to be there for this,” he said. He made to leave, stopped, and turned to walk back towards Deveron. “Hold out your hands,” he commanded. As the younger man did, he placed the stone in them.

“You have risked much and have paid a high price to bring this back. To you must go the honour of putting it in its place.”

“Father?” Deveron’s brow furrowed. “Will the Elders permit this?”

“They will do as I say,” Runolf replied. Walking before his son, they made their way into the great hall. They passed through a large door and began to ascend a marble spiral staircase. On each step, a warrior stood clad in blood red armour. As the men passed they beat a single fist to their chest. Reaching the top they were greeted by a party of ten Elders, their faces masked by purple hoods.

“Runolf.” the tallest of the Elders spoke. “Welcome.” When he saw Deveron behind him, he pulled off his hood and walked closer. “Why are you not alone? Deveron is not allowed here. You know that well.” The other Elders formed a guard stopping both men from advancing.

“Adsel,” Runolf raised his body to its full height, dwarfing the other man. ‘If not for my son, we would still be without the stone. Our civilisation would suffer, wither and die wretchedly, without its heart. I should not have to ask that he be granted the status he deserves.”

“Runolf,” the Elder shook his head with displeasure, raising his hands to quiet the others who were speaking among themselves.

“I have given a son for this Adsel. This gives me the right,” Runolf interrupted. Leaning closer he bent his head. Adsel appeared to be swallowed up by his body. The little man shrunk backwards. “If needed…I will bring this matter before the Senate.” Adsel looked up, and his brow creased.

“I do not think that will be necessary,” he replied, and turned to the other Elders. Each man nodded slightly before standing back. Adsel moved to the side. “Perhaps you have a point,” he ceded. Runolf and Deveron bowed their heads at the Elders before moving on.

They made their way through two large archways and continued along the hall. They came to another stairwell, which ended in a darkened room. They crossed the room to an altar that reached three times their height. Level with their heads was a deep hole. Runolf stepped aside and waved his son on.

Deveron raised his arms and placed the stone in the hole, then stepped back. A light began to pulse out from it and the air around vibrated. They could hear a humming sound. A brilliant flash burst out from the stone, and beams of light raced through the air touching markings on each wall. The markings glowed, then bounced into the air and floated free. New markings appeared to replace them; they too quickly rebounded about the room. This process became a continuous occurrence.

“It is good to have our history returned to us,” Runolf spoke softly. “Without it, so much would be lost.” He pointed to a series of markings glowing more vibrantly than the rest.

“Already the chronicle of your deed has been added.” A face with eyes exactly like Deveron’s could be seen in the air near the symbols depicting the Stone’s return. “He shall never be forgotten,” Runolf drew his son toward him. “Into one, shall all men journey,” he said.

“And all journeys shall become one,” Deveron replied. They looked at each other for a time, and before leaving the chapel they stared around, their faces glowing under the light show. Runolf placed his arm around his son’s shoulder and squeezed.

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Author: Jo Bryant

I was born in the land of Banjo Paterson, gum trees, and weather extremes. I am a freelance writer. I live in the Bay of Plenty, New Zealand, but still like to claim my Australian heritage. I graduated with a Bachelor of Communications in 2008. I am writing my first novel. I love to write poetry, short stories, and also write for the web. And there is nothing that is on a par with a sunny summer's day spent at Waihi Beach.

45 thoughts on “The short story that morphed in to a novel.”

  1. This is, as I expected is very well written. I can clearly see that is it meant to be a novel rather than a short story, and you should find it easier to do – writing short is incredible difficult. I think you are dicing just on the line of showing and telling, see if you can get what I mean. I absolutely love the part where he puts the stone in and his story is added to the history. Anyway that’s enough from me, I know nothing and you had better get on with it!!!

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    1. Thanks Gilly. When I look at the story now I find a lot that I would change. But I figured I should put it up as it was back then. Funny how as a writer you can get attached to a story and not see its faults at the time…but in retrospect those faults can make you shudder !!! At some point I might actually rewrite it as a short story and hopefully improve it a lot. I am much happier with The Book in that aspect. I have been putting it in a new writing software [so cool – it has chapters and scenes and notes for plotting and characters, as well as other great tools] and after not reading it for a while I was pleased it didn’t make me shudder too much. I did find much that needs editing and cutting though. But my task for November is just to write and not edit at all until I hit the finish line. That is my biggest fault I think…editing as I go.

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        1. I read a few when I was doing my uni course. But I found that the best info came from others. People who write and talk about it. I was really lucky too – the tutors I had were very giving of their time and their thoughts on so many things. The software is called Write Way. I am trialing it through NaNoWriMo until December. They let writers taking part have it for the month…then you can get it half price if you like it. I already know that I will get it. It is so much better than just using Word. And you can view it in all the stages of a manuscript [draft/ARC/etc]. I am hooked on it. Here is the link….download the trial and try it out.
          http://www.writewaypro.com/

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          1. Okay thanks so much. I’ve downloaded it but I think my tutor would kill me if I used it! I agree talking to others is the est way to learn and even better to just get on with it 🙂 Good luck with nanowrimo it should get the book down – I have a feeling you will reach your 50k!

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          2. Why would your tutor kill you ?? It is just a great tool to help you keep all your notes on the book in one place and refer to them easily. Don’t tell him/her.

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          3. haha! and the other problem is time to learn it as well as blog, write my next assignment, do craft fairs oh and work full time! My novel is taking a break for at least two years while I finish my degree, but it’s festering nicely in my head!

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          4. It takes very little time to master it Gilly. Very simple to use. But I get it…life has a way of getting in the way. Starting tomorrow though mine will take a back seat to The Book. I am getting up at 3 am to start. Did I just say that ??? Oh the stress is getting to me already…hehehe

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          5. I’m hoping to have a try at the weekend 🙂 can never resist software!Hooray for The Book, 1666 isn’t too much it’s the every day for a month that’s the stress.

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          6. Just have a play with it. It is easy to import any notes you already have and they pop up for you when you want to refer to them. I have all my research in it already. All the stuff about unicorns and phoenixes and the like. Going to pop in some plot notes today and the character notes to keep it all in mind as I go. I love that you can also divide the chapters in to scenes easily. Oh heck, I just love this software to bits.

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  2. Really enjoyed that Jo. You know I’m not a writer so I cant criticise either. I had great delight in imagining your favourite actor in the lead with long hair riding a unicorn….wonderful picture! I imagine the greatest fans of your book will be women.

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    1. Thanks Wendy. Yep – Jensen riding around on a unicorn is a vision that keeps me up at night. And when Jynessa takes him flying in her claws…oh dear I am getting all hot and bothered and I am through menopause already !!!!

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  3. I’m not big on reading long posts, (my problem. i follow way too may) but I really couldn’t stop once I started. There were so many parts that drew a picture, lots of fabulous description. Magical, gripping, love it. Good luck with it, Jo. Two thumbs up.

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  4. Jo, I couldn’t stop reading. Great story so far! I’m also not a writer but as a reader I really like how you have introduced one character at a time, it helps me to get to know them and to work out who is who. I found the first paragraph a bit wordy, but that probably says more about me than you – just getting used to your style of writing. I like your descriptions of everything, I’m thinking of George RR Martin’s books when I say they could probably be fleshed out with more detail. And only one thing bothered me – part of the wall decoration was described as ‘light green’, which is not enough information for me. I want to know which shade of green you mean – is it like a new leaf? or cucumber? or celery?

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    1. Oh thank you Georgia. What a compliment you give me with George RR Martin. I know this story needs a lot of work to improve it. It was written hastily. I woke, wrote, took it to the meeting and haven’t done much to it since. I just wanted to start the NaNoWriMo month of with a bit of background. I want to go back one day and work on it and hopefully make it good. When I pulled it out I was a bit “OMG – do I really want to put this up as it is?” but I figured the context [of The Book] was more important than my ego. And as rough as it is it is still special to me because it has me on the wave I am now riding with The Book.

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      1. Keep Manifesting Jo….. the book is already a best seller and you are signing the for the Film rights… 🙂 …. Remember JK Rowling? she started her book in Cafe xxxxx Dont forget to sleep! and EAT! Lol xxx

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  5. Jo, I always knew you were something special, but this proves it! I love this world of yours; you’ve breathed new life into a crowded, sometime stale, realm. You rule, fair maiden!

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    1. Awwwwwww…thank you kind Sir. Now I am off back to killing people and saving others with potions that come out of Griffin’s claws. Oh and imagining Jensen flying about on a unicorn…life is good.

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  6. It’s a compelling story, no doubt about that. And you had me at unicorn. I really like that the unicorn and man can “hear” each other’s thoughts—until the unicorn shuts his off—b/c that unicorn seems like a major character to me. And I like his name, Wraith. It’s good that you can see the need for tightening and editing. One note on that: near the beginning there are a lot of pronouns that should be dealt with for clarity and ease of reading. But you knew that already, didn’t you? This is definitely looking like a publishable book.

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    1. Yes – I know this short story needs work. Maybe when the book is done I will have a relook at it. I just wanted to let people see where the book idea originated. And yes – Wraith is going to be very important in The Book. Or should I say The Books.

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      1. I’m sorry, Jo. From your response, I feel like I should apologize for bringing up the pronoun thing. I was just responding to your request for critique, but I see I shouldn’t have said anything.

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        1. Oh no Jennifer…don’t feel like that please !!!!!!!! I was just trying to explain why I did put it up in the state it is in. I usually wouldn’t put a piece up like that because I KNOW it isn’t finished or the best it can be. But I do want suggestions on how to improve it, as later I want to rewrite it and get it to a place where I am happy with it. I know it needs work. And I want people to tell me what they think would make it better. I am so sorry if I made you feel your critique wasn’t welcomed. I didn’t mean that…because I really like to hear what others think. A tutor once told me that if your readers weren’t happy 100% with what you wrote then you didn’t write it well enough. And I believe he had the right idea. Again if I made you feel that your opinion wasn’t appreciated that isn’t the case and I apologise.

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          1. I really appreciate your reply, Jo. I’m probably a little touchy on the subject b/c I’ve been verbally attacked a few times for editing when it was asked for but apparently not wanted. I worked in a magazine office for several years where we all edited each others’ articles until they were perfect, and red lines were expected. But outside that office, people seem to be more sensitive about what they’ve written. I’ve learned that when someone explains “why” they’ve written something, in response to a critique, it usually means they don’t really want the critique. They just want me to say how great it is.

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          2. I am so glad to get your reply…I felt just awful that I made you feel that way. I think I was feeling funny about posting it. Because it isn’t great. But – I also felt people should see where The Book started. That even though the story I wrote itself was so-so, the idea was there. I was trying to explain that was why I posted something not up to scratch. I am soooo glad you replied and said what you did…because I would hate you to feel the way you did and never know it. With the excerpts from the first chapter I am putting up…it is the same thing. I know they need work. It is a first draft. So I hope when people see things that don’t gel with them they will say what it is and why that is. Thankfully because of this I will be more careful in my responses in future. So thank you for saying something – I would hate you to think I was really like that.

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  7. It doesn’t seem fair to me to critique something that is really more of a prelude than anything else. However, I still liked this very much and feel that you have a great skill in drawing in the reader and keeping his/her attention. Your details are good and help place us in the scene. The only nit-picky part that troubled me was so much dialogue. I wanted more information about the surroundings, about the characters and perhaps some of the motivations behind why they said what they did, how they did, if that makes sense.

    The relationship with Deveron and Wraith reminds me of Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar series with her Chosen and their horse-form Companions, and how they mind-speak. It is a good story tool and you use it to good effect, but other readers may draw the same connection and wonder about your use of it. The good thing is that you do not use the same format that she does to show the mind-speaking, so maybe readers will not even think about it. In any case, I am looking forward to reading the published book (and you better believe I want an autographed copy!!) 😉

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    1. Oh…autographed copy requests already…I like it !!!! You be as nit-picky as you want. I know this story isn’t up to scratch. it was hard to post it. When I pulled it out I was like: “Oh dear…that needs work !!” But lots of people [including you] have given me some good ideas for when I do rewrite it on areas that need addressing. So…as much as I hate putting bad writing out there I am glad I did.

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  8. No baloney, bias opinion out the door, this truly is amazing. You are a writer, for sure. You have the quality of it. Get on it, and don’t let it go
    Question, are you going to stretch the stories? Either way, the “shortness” of it makes up a good read since it sums up everything into one sitting.
    Love that it actually has different segments. That readers can take a moment to breathe, sink things in and then go back to the excitement once again. And you have the knack to keep it interesting, keep your readers continue reading and the pacing is really on point. Damn great writing.

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    1. Thanks Rommel – that is wonderfully kind of you to say !!!
      If you are interested here are links to Scenes I,II, III of the first draft of the novel…would love to hear your opinion on those.
      😉
      12.01 am – Chapter I Scene I off The Draco Stone – first draft
      Day 6 of NaNoWriMo – and Chapter I Scenes II and III – first draft.

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      1. Sure will! I was reading your comments ;). I think the pacing is perfect. Getting into details doesn’t have a room for such a recap of a novel like what you’ve done here. The tad bit you’ve done is enough.

        Will look forward to reading the others when I get the chance. It’s a good thing to read it in installment. I’ll ponder on your prelude for now as it’s still fresh in my mind. Love it, Jo. Great splendid, stupendous job writing this.

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  9. I loved the excerpt and this doesn’t disappoint one bit Jo!
    The imagery and characters are so well etched it keeps you engaged till the very end. If I absolutely have to nit pick, the only part that felt a bit less than the whole – and I am no writer either – was the part immediately after Deveron places the ‘stone in the hole’. But don’t ask me how to improve it or what exactly is wrong! Just felt it was a bit more….prosaic (?) compared to the rest which is absolutely brilliant! Have no doubt the final draft will be perfect.
    Seems to me like this would make a marvelous screenplay……wondering if I should get my autograph in advance? 😀

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    1. You nit pick away Madhu. I am not happy with that completely either. It feels a little false to me when I reread it. I am hoping by the time I get to that part in The Book I have a better way of describing the scene. This has been great though. So many of you have mentioned parts that you feel need work and why these parts don’t work that it has really opened my eyes to where I need to focus on more with my writing.
      A screenplay…hmmmmmm…maybe when The Book is finished. There will ALWAYS be an autograph ready for you Madhu…always.

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