Sneak Peek: Chapter One of Prelude to a Hero
Only days from the release of the first book and the launch of this series. I am beside myself with excitement and Kathi is sitting net to me, putting final polishing on the chapters, giddy as well.
This has been a long road of incredible challenges, with our family welfare hanging on the hope that I won’t suck as a writer! Woot! And to think: it’s only the beginning. So here we are, about to release and I still don’t have a clue how we are going to tell people about the book.
Well, here’s a gift–CHAPTER ONE of Prelude to a Hero. Hopefully it will motivate someone out there to tell a friend and if you happen to be a book blogger, I will have eBook copies available in every format for the asking, just shoot me an email.
Remember, stop by www.wantedhero.com on May 6th and buy yourself a copy of the novel for only $.99. It will also be available through Amazon.com.
Who are you?
I am the storyteller.
I’m the friend, the neighbor, the stranger on the street.
I’m the one who watches, contemplates and shares.
But, who are you?
***
Soon, he remembered. Soon we will see the face of the Hero! His stomach leaped. How many times had Shea heard his father speak those words? Hundreds? Thousands?
He had walked this scorched stone path with his arms tied over his chest, enduring the parched winds, while staring at the back of his father’s robe since he was nine. That is when his father had discovered his gift for discerning truth. Then Shea’s father, as the High Elder, began instructing, requiring him to follow and observe.
Having grown, his eyes were now fixed upon his father’s hooded head. Just as the High Elder predicted, the people and Council had spoken and his only son took the life pledge of service in the Iskari High Council. Being only sixteen, Shea was honored to be the youngest elder in their history. Days later, Shea privately exulted as he received the crucial calling as the one who would confirm the royal bloodline. The Ithari would then be bestowed upon its rightful heir. The Hero. How many generations of High Elders had walked this path of sagging steps, each hoping they might be the one to see Him face to face?
Habitually ignoring the growing din, Shea allowed himself to be lulled by the rhythmic scratching of his father as he scuffled along, the childhood memories he enjoyed of Dark Lord Mahan and the Hero tumbled from one to another. “Naughty children are sent to Unrest and given to Mahan,” the gentle threatenings tugged at the corner of his lips. All mothers had warned their children of such things. But his mind eagerly dwelt on his father. He cherished the long evenings spent wrapped in thick arms, on his father’s lap, in front of a popping fire, while the scratchy fibers of his father’s robe made his cheek itch. Shea brought his hand to his face while the encompassing adoration filled his chest again and he embraced echoes of whispered tales about the heroes past and the one hero yet to come. He knew now, as he always had. This time Mahan will fall.
The childhood traditions had created an unfaltering bond between father and son. But Shea and his father spent much time in silence these days, the inexplicable desire to find acceptance burdened Shea’s every thought. It was time for the Hero to be retrieved and his father dared suggest they should act against tradition and reason! Often Council meetings were adjourned following raised voices, conflicting views, without resolution.
After all these years and the stories of his purpose, Shea felt cheated. Indignation threatened to suffocate him, he clenched his teeth. He thinks I’m still a child. He was being robbed of his greatest privilege and purpose by his own father. He doesn’t trust me.
The uncaring wind whipped around him wailing in vain as it snapped the hood from Shea’s naked skull. Blinking his watering eyes, he lowered his chaffed head and pushed on up the long callous path to the edge of the Pinnacle.
Mimicking his father, Shea stood erect on the ridge that thirstily lunged out over the boundless chasm. Just beyond his outstretched fingertips the chittering grains of sand whizzed and whirled and echoed from every direction, like swarms of angry hornets, yet only the scathing wind assaulted him. The violent ballet beckoned as he peered over the ridge to watch where millions of worlds dwelt together within the raging storm. It was here that, those who had the eyes to see could look upon the inhabitants of distant lands.
Shea stood back as the High Elder drew in a deep breath through wide nostrils, closing his wrinkled eyes. The sand before them pulsed, gathering in trails, as if magnets attracting sand were dancing in the chaos. Pouring in from the storm, the sand quickly organized itself into many conversing figures.
Once, he had questioned his father about why they came. He answered, “There is one in the sand with a rosy aura. This is the life and movements of a young man who has been placed upon a strange world, Earth, to hide him. He is the one I observe. It is my calling to protect him.” Years of bedtime tales and dreams suddenly took root and sprang to life in his young soul. Shea leaned forward squinting in vain to peer deeper into the magic, hoping to see the boy’s face–to look in his eyes.
Generations of High Elders had been watching over the young hero since he was a helpless baby, placed in the arms of adoring parents who would never know where he really came from; waiting for the day when the Hero would awaken Ithari, the Gem of the Gods. It was time. The young man was needed now, to come home, reclaim his birthright and save his people.
Even now, for the hundredth time, Shea’s shoulders sagged, disappointed. He did not have this gift and could not even see the coloring his father spoke of.
Soon, Shea sighed.
While the High Elder was engrossed, something peculiar caught Shea’s eye. Stray grains of sand were tumbling up the path across his feet, unaffected by the wind. A piercing apprehension seized Shea’s gut. An evil spirit? Here? How…..?
Perplexed, he watched the slithering strands accumulate into a churning mound behind his father. Should I…? His mind went blank. It was seeping into a dark, blood-red mud, then molding itself into the form of an asp with a flickering tongue to taste the wind.
Only when it slithered around his father, rising to meet the sands of Earth did Shea find his voice. “Father!” he warned, screaming above the din.
Startled, the High Elder’s narrowed eyes darted to his son and back to the sand. Calmly, he stretched out a hand, quickly waving through the scene to sever the link to Earth. The figures collapsed into swirling streams, launching themselves back into the chasm once more.
Except for the asp. Unaffected, it twisted and turned, encircling the old man’s chest. Shea gagged at the metallic odor of blood and steaming sand smothering the air while the snake probed around his father’s face and brow. Shea waited, holding his breath as the High Elder concentrated with a lifetime of practiced skill to clear all thoughts from his consciousness. It lingered, waiting for some weakness to snatch that would betray the hero’s location to its dark master. The moments stretched past. And then minutes.
Exploding with repressed uncertainty, Shea impatiently commanded, “Ish-Krothi Umballa!” and briskly thrust his hands through the sleeves of his robe. His fingers gripped an invisible sphere that he stretched and forcefully hurled at his father.
The asp sparked, bursting into flames and fell tinkling to the unyielding stone.
“No!” cried the High Elder, eyes narrowing and face flushing red. “Now the Dark Lord will know we hide something from him!” He looked at the small shards of glass around his feet, the red residue slowly fading from the shiny surfaces. The creases in his forehead deepened, his lips pressed together in a tight line.
Instantly Shea realized, too late, the consequences of his actions. As a boy he had waited long hours for his father to return from council meetings specifically designated to protecting the hero. As a member of the Council he learned the challenges of weaving intricate deceptions of ignorance or complacency to keep prying eyes of shadow at bay. Now in one hasty breath the methodically orchestrated plans had been compromised.
A deep frown on his face, the High Elder turned sharply, yanking the hood over his head he attacked the steep winding path. Knowing they could not converse on the matter until they were far from the sand and wind, Shea anxiously kept pace with the High Elder’s lengthy stride until they were just outside Sanctuary’s walls.
“Father, I …”
Raising a hand, he neither slowed nor turned. “Control and unity, young man,” he cut in a cool tone. “This is always about unity and self control. That is how we will defeat the enemy. Not with a careless display of personal power and parlor tricks!”
“I’m sorry, Father,” Shea justified.
The High Elder slowed, the edgy tone causing his rigid pace to falter. He stopped to study Shea’s face with a piercing gaze. Moments passed, but he said nothing.
“Truly,” Shea insisted softly. “I sought only to keep the boy safe.”
The small wrinkles in the corner of his eyes offered a faint a smile as the High Elder slowly exhaled. Shea was young. Sixteen was too young, in his opinion, to carry such a burden. The High Elder’s role as a father was now secondary to the calling of an Elder. However, youth and inexperience were no excuse for irrational behavior and stepping outside one’s calling.
“Young Elder, you have forgotten your place, doubted my calling, and challenged my stewardship.”
At the formal address, Shea squared his shoulders, pain flickering in his eyes. “High Elder, I do not doubt your position NOR would I dare to challenge your stewardship,” he emphasized in lowered tones. “I have only opposed the decisions on retrieving the boy. There is too much risk involved. Thus, I believe this important task should only be entrusted to the Council as a whole. The bloodline will need protection. Our protection.”
It was the same argument.
“We are too arrogant in our own abilities, because we have knowledge and powers,” fortifying his point with volume. “Insanity!” Shea watched his father turn his head from side to side then raising his hands to the sky, anguishing, “Mahan has already enslaved half…HALF!…of this world!”
Pleading, eye to eye, “Elder, ….” sighing patiently, “Son. Do you not remember he lives because the last hero had compassion for his friend? Mahan is cunning and his influence grows in ways we can only measure by destruction and death.
“Have you and the others truly convinced yourselves that we are beyond destruction? Or even worse… corruption?”
Chin raised to the challenge, “And what of your plan, Father?” Spitting venomous condemnation into his words. “Will you really send a selfish, free-willed outcast to retrieve our last hope for all creation? One who shirks his responsibilities, subsisting in pubs to return so intoxicated that he often mistakes the pig pen for his cottage? He can’t even find the bathroom in the dark!”
The High Elder couldn’t help chuckling at his son’s accurate perception of one of Sanctuary’s longest residents. “No. Dax can find the bathroom in the dark…he simply finds it inconvenient when intoxicated and therefore, chooses not to.”
“That’s just…sick,” grimaced Shea.
“Nevertheless, it does not disqualify him for the task at hand. We all have a purpose. Remember how he suffers and what has been taken from him. It should soften your heart, if nothing else. He knows what’s expected and understands the gravity.”
Shea was unconvinced. “You misplace your trust in a fool, father.”
“No, son.” The High Elder smiled, placing a confident had on his son’s chest, “I trust a friend.”
Resigned, the young elder lowered his head and closed his eyes.
Patting his son’s shoulder, the High Elder grinned wide. “Have confidence. The Dark Lord will never suspect what is about to happen…..and we will do what has never been done before.”
Shea sighed, muttering under his breath, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Read MoreThe Walk of Faith
A great deal has happened since my last entry and I hope to catch you all up on the events in the immediate future. Unfortunately, you’ll have to settle for a bridged version for now (you’ll understand why in a moment). This entry is more for loosening up my typing fingers this morning to get ready to write another book for publication which will accompany “Prelude to a Hero”.
We are still in our home by the grace of God and the compassion of a great man, our landlord, Shawn Morely. I hope he doesn’t regret meeting me at this point. I haven’t had work since November 2010 and we are down 3 months in rent. I borrowed some funds and also turned over our tax return to offset the delay’s in rent, but we were always down by at least a month. Actually, it’s only a matter of time before the lights and water and internet, etc. are turned off as well–but Shawn has been making sure we don’t end up under a freeway somewhere. It’s taxing him horribly, which drives me even harder.
Now I know someone out there is going to be shouting ‘go get a job you git’! Oh how I wish I could at times, but let me assure you for right or wrong…I have tried with every breath to get work (even prostitute my skills for pennies) and nothing comes of it. The forces that be have determined that I write these books and focus on them and nothing else. Crazy as it seems and as PAINFUL as it has been, feeling the failure as a father and husband, it’s a circumstance I have been unable to change. The blessing has come as a completely supportive and encouraging wife and family who cheer me on day after day towards the finish line…whatever that may be.
So the stress level is higher than I have ever experienced and the greater challenge has been writing regardless of the circumstances. The results, so long as this doesn’t kill me, has been the best work I’ve ever produced and a stronger relationship with my sweetheart who is now writing side by side with me.
The goal is to create the first book and a couple extra’s and get them self-published immediately upon completion. I have studied and brushed up on my development skills and found multiple avenues to sell Wanted Hero, including a powerful affiliate program for those who like the story. Not only can they buy the books, if they like them they can also sell them and make far more money than they could with Amazon.com or other outlet. We will sell them from every traditional source, but mainly from our own site–the difference being paid in 3 months or 3 days. Being desperate for money to keep this family a float and to get Shawn money ASAP, I’ll be focusing on the later.
The trend in publishing has changed overnight and though people are chittering away about Amanda Hocking, we have always had our own plan and knew what would work back in 2004 with the publication of the eComics. That was before there were eReaders int he first place and we made a living from kids who didn’t even have credit cards! So this s a very exciting prospect.
I met with David Farland. Great man. Very kind and enjoyable to talk with. He took my story and read it. Yeah, the whole thing. He liked it and a couple days later took Kathi and I out to lunch. He said without changing a single thing we were publishable. Just like that. We had the skill at that moment and we both cried. All this hard effort wasn’t in vain. Then he suggested that if we take our skills up a notch, we could have NY Times best Seller quality work. He said his advanced course (which takes years to do) would help us. We didn’t have years. In fact, we don’t have months–the timer is ticking without mercy.
He said he felt we could do the course in a month.
So we went home and loved the children for a day and the following Monday Dave put us to work on the book with a lesson every few days. It has made us stretch and struggle and redefine our working relationship as well as our communication level as a married couple. The results have been encouraging. Here are a couple snippets from Dave’s emails:
…this looked good. Didn’t have any passive voice jump out at me. The action kept me reading. Good job!
—
I went through WANTED HERO for the first few chapters, looking for patterns of weakness, and didn’t really find much. It reads well.
—
I think it is very readable and enjoyable.
So his teaching, accompanied by his responses have been encouraging and if we do well, he’s said he would write our cover quote as well. Being HUGE Dave Farland fans (Runelords and Of Mice and Magic) this means a great deal to us.
Since we started this adventure, Kathi and I work from the moment we get up until 1-2am the next morning, writing and editing and preparing for the launch of this series. It’s what I have always wanted to do. I just didn’t know I would be trying to beat the clock and build a successful business while the world decay’s around me.
-Jaime Buckley
Read More
ISBNs by the Thousands
So the purchase has been made and I have to say it was the best investment of the year. Signed into Bowker and purchased 1000 ISBN#’s for On The Fly Publications.
Read all the contracts and fine print ($1000 is a lot of money to goof up) and then clicked the purchase order. Enough to carry Wanted Hero to it’s final resting place of completion.
If you’re looking to self-publish or even start your own publishing business like my family did, I recommend you buy your own block of ISBN#’s and do it in the large quantities.
- They’re cheaper by bulk.
- You’ll need more #’s than you might think if you’re producing even a single book in various forms (print, eBook, audio, programming).
- The established systems/companies are fast changing the rules to their services…so that only authors who own the ISBN can utilize their full array of benefits.
- Bowker provides a huge gambit of benefit services to the ISBN holders, which include increasing the ability to find your book and even increasing the search-ability on engines like Google and Yahoo.
So take a moment to consider the ramifications of owning your own numbers and read up on ISBN’s. It’s your book, after all.
-Jaime Buckley
Read MoreFrom Preview to Novella: changing times, changing options.
It’s been a while since I made my last post, not because I slipped up, but rather I found my priorities. Nice to be able to say that for a change. It’s been very long work days, sitting across the kitchen table from Kathi, working on the prelude book and also filming interviews, getting the new website rebuilt and the list goes on.
Stress is up, only because I still don’t have a job and if it wasn’t for Shawn Morely and his kindness, I’d be out in the street with my wife and 10 kids. So each day is a miracle and I’m working from the moment I wake up until 2am the next day or I pass out from exhaustion. The focus has been on Wanted Hero. I’m planning on making history with this and when you want to do the impossible, you have to put the equivalent effort behind it.
I had hoped to have the preview out by now, but each time I made that a goal, something sinister got in the way. I gave it all I had and the goal could not be reached, so I paced myself. Then a new picture formed. So much has been included into this book and following series, the preview turned into a Novella.
Originally the preview was to be the first 10 chapters of the book while Kathi and I finished the last 13 chapters. But the whole PURPOSE of Prelude to a Hero was to set up the novel series anyway. The first 10 chapters do just that. So my question was, why wait any longer? Let’s do the Novella and move on to the meat and potatoes!
There’s also so much news in the media about self-publishing, to which I’m not a stranger. I was selling .pdf’s for $.97 a pop before there ever WAS a reader available and we did well. Not rich, but we made a living and people were willing to buy a $.97 comic book because it was under a buck, they could print it out…and they loved the story. That’s why I believed it would work and behold….it did!
Now we have the Kindle, the Nook, the iBook and more will rise–all selling lower priced digital versions of stories and the industry is growing. I’ve watched the whole ride with Amanda Hocking and I couldn’t be happier for her, regardless of if she stayed in self-publishing or this new traditional book deal. She’s writing, which is her passion and she’s been rewarded for her efforts and dedication to her fans. That’s exactly what I have desired to do for nearly 20 years.
Now it’s time.
BTW, if you want to get a great grip on what’s truly happening in the industry, I would suggest you read this recent article. It’s a talk between two brilliant men: Joe Konrath (a thriller author) and one of my favorite authors Barry Eisler. The two speak openly about the transition going on right now and their own experiences, which are priceless for those of use wishing to go that route. Here’s a taste:
Joe: You’re on track to make $30,000 this year on a self-published short story. I’m not aware of any short story markets that pay that well.
Barry: Well, it’s early yet, but yes, The Lost Coast has done amazingly well in its first few weeks, netting me about $1000 after the initial fixed cost of $600 for having the cover designed and having the manuscript formatted. I plan to continue to publish short stories and I’ll be getting the new John Rain novel, The Detachment, up in time for Father’s Day, and I have a feeling that each of the various products will reinforce sales of the others.
Joe: That’s a really smart plan. My own sales, and the sales of other indie authors doing well, pretty much confirm that a rising tide lifts all boats. Virtual shelf space functions a lot like physical shelf space. The more books you have on the shelf, the likelier you are to be discovered by someone browsing. And when a browser reads you and likes you, she buys more of your work, and often tells others about it.
In other words; the more stories and novels you have available, the more you’ll sell.
Barry: Gotta just jump in here to point out the significance of this. It means that a writer’s best promoting tool is once again her writing. Advertising costs money. New stories make money.
Joe: I told you so…
Read the whole article here: http://jakonrath.blogspot.com/2011/03/ebooks-and-self-publishing-dialog.html
In short, the more I write, the more the path seems to be creating itself and it becomes clearer every day. I started this journey self-publishing when I was told it wouldn’t work. It did. I was told not to self-publish my graphic novels because it wouldn’t work. It did. So now I want to step it up and do the entire series in digital form, through our family publishing house. The funny thing is…people no longer tell me it won’t work.
Read MoreMemo to self: Don’t forget to Destroy the Universe.
There’s an exciting aspect of writing novels that I have become addicted to: research. I love learning about new things, places, people, events, science and the list goes on. But there’s a side effect to this grand adventure in expanding your brain: awareness.
Wanted Hero has been on my mind and on my lips as stories for children and adults alike for years, but it never occured to me, being a story with a great deal of humor, obnoxiousness, puns, danger and magic, that aspects of it truly didn’t make sense. It’s still a great story in my own opinion, but I want you to lose yourself in the adventures. Show you the wonderful cities and ancient glyphs, ride the wild beasts of forgotten realms…and believe in the end that it just might exist after all.
That takes more than just smiling when a clever reader asks you ‘why?‘ or ‘how is that possible?‘ The answer can’t always be “it’s magic“. Not only does that become anticlimactic, it’s flat out lame IMO.
Enter “the wife”. The brilliant woman who says I’m the creator, but she’s the ‘organizer‘. When I got out the years of notes to do the novel series, we agreed that no matter how long it took to release the first book, it would be the foundation to set the stage for the rest of the adventure. A sure and solid foundation that worked, made sense and instilled a “WOW!” factor when it came to the Universe. It also meant, however, that I had to realize that many of the creations I had developed and even used in the comic version of the story, simply didn’t work.
So where a simple revision might take days, weeks or even months, this has become a daily adventure as a writer. So far I have written the equivalent of nearly four times the size of the novel itself (which is roughly 120,000 words), just in NOTES. And we’re not done yet.
Today was the biggest discovery so far, though I’m SO grateful it’s getting worked out. The Universe. Studying how stars work, their classifications, light, distance, habitable planets, etc….ALL tell me that my desire to have a single system with the multiple planets doesn’t work. At least not in the fashion this story is meant to be told. Ouch.
The answer? I now have to rewrite the entire structure and foundation history the story was based on and what The Great Sundering means, the events, people, cultures, conflicts and the end results of where the colonies end up. Do I create a universe for all 13 worlds now? Do I create a special planet with unique dynamics? Double and TRIPLE Ouch.
Best part is, the deadline is Monday!!
It’s been a loooong week and I know I had the intention to release the preview today, but the foundation has to be right or I would never forgive myself…and neither would you. “Jaime Buckley is a moron! He didn’t even get the functions of a solar system right!!” Yeah, I don’t want to have that experience.
So hang tight my friends, this just gets better and better and I assure you, you’re going to be impressed. The good news is, this is the foundation–the other novels will go much faster once all this has been worked out!
Memo to Self: Don’t forget to buy milk, eggs, wash van, then destroy the Universe.
Read MoreMy Latest Book
