Rooks of Burgundy

Rooks of Burgundy
Rooks of Burgundy is historical fiction set 1016/1017 in the Duchy of Burgundy. Raban is a young serf farmer in a small fief. Spring is freshly come and the world beginning again, and so the story opens.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

A Whiny Rant



I'm desperately trying the think of something clever to write about, pertaining to my book somehow. It really is too early to amp up my book stuff, but it would be fun to do something. Character sketches? Nah. Excerpts? Maybe, but I'm not sure what the purpose would be. I just want something to help people get to know my book without advertising or "teasing". I don't know.

I somewhat object to the idea of blogging about myself, although I've heard that is what authors should do. I read something that said "Your book is not the brand, you are." Meaning I should advertise myself rather than my book. I find that slightly vomit inducing, but such is the way of the market. I know I am the odd one here, but I have almost no author loyalty. I like books that I like. I know that if you like a book by a certain author, say, Corin McKenney, then you will be likely to enjoy his other books as well. But I really don't have authors I feel a particular fondness for. I have little to less then none interest in them as people. I loved The Book Thief, however I have no desire to know anything about Markus Zusak's personal life (Although apparently I'll give him free advertising). If an author places more importance on themselves than their characters something is wrong. Yet that is what the market wants, so authors acquiesce. Some even love it, get carried away, trick themselves into thinking they're famous. Privacy is for sale, the article said. Why do people care about the artist merely because they appreciate the art. It never shocks me when I find out that an author, actor, or sports figure is a scumbag, because it doesn't change anything (Of course, it might be because I assume they're all scumbags anyway, until shown differently.)

I really do know I am an exception when I say these things. I and I daresay I would compromise my stance if it meant getting published. If it really makes a difference to the reader to know that haven't robbed any seven elevens recently and that I like dogs, enjoy snow sports that involve gravity doing the work, my private vice is sweettarts, and that I broke my arm on a four-wheeler once, then they should be allowed to know. I'll put, what, a thousand hours into my book? More? So people can pry and pretend they know me after checking it out from the library. So what do I get out of it? Oh yeah, artists aren't supposed to be concerned with such low matters as that. My satisfaction comes from knowing that my art was appreciate. I thank you, Dear readers, for appreciating my feeble efforts. One smile from you is worth it all. Feel free to intrude in my life. After all, where would I be without you?

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Now that this little blog has accidentally died, I have been trying to remember how to do this with the design. So far I have failed miserably. I can't even find the color changing thing, and for some reason, this new format won't let me give titles to individual posts. Basically, I hate blogs. I want to turn Ilyarynburg in a new direction, mainly more about my writing. But I cannot do anything I want to do. It's very frustrating. Oh well, I'll keep trying.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Uh-oh. My blog died. I'll see if i can renovate it, but my interest in blogging has waned of late anyway, so the effort will be small.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Seven Comments

On my last post I received seven comments (or rejoinders) of varying helpfulness and coherence. For your future reference (okay fine, I admit it just sounded fun) I have decided to score each comment on a scale of 1-10. And the judgement commences.


Blogger the snyders said...

I enjoyed it! It drew me in and made me wanting to read more. I think the descriptions were well thought out, and it gave me a good idea of the time period. Looking forward to the final product!

While there is nothing specific in this comment, it does give me impressions, which is nice. And it made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, which is always a worthy endeavor. 7 Points


Blogger MLS said...

Look Fhgwhgads, I'm sorry to say I don't like it. Mainly because it's a long freaking opening. I mean in the time it took me to read it I could have done all kinds of stuff. Like paint a picture of a guy, with a big knife...whoa, in fact I'm gonna get started on that right away


Um...right. This one scores very low on coherence and helpfulness, but high on me recognizing the quote. As far as I know, most first pages are about a page long. However, you spelled fhqwgads wrong, so get -3 points and 7 points. Some may question the logic of this, to those I say...Trogdor the Burninator.


Blogger the snyders said...

p.s. Mason love your music on here. He keeps dancing around and laughing at himself.


Irrelevant, but awesome. 11 points.


Blogger Courtney said...

I ALMOST like it...a couple of things I would polish, which I will talk to you about when I'm not at work....I do like both of the "speech" pieces.


This one gets two scores as well. 5 points for the comment. So low for the vaguery and so high for the compliment of my dialogue. And 9 points for the actual helpfulness after work, which included finding whether or not they had steel in 1016 and pointing out specific problems with paragraph 2.


Blogger's interjection: You do not add points, they are simply two different scores.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

The first paragraph is confusing. I didnt know if Raban was the strange knight riding on or if it was someone else. Need to establish that Raban is NOT the knight somehow.

Maybe put Raban on his old moldy horse in the first para and use it to juxtapose against the knight's hores. Use their differences as the basis for his unwarranted hatred of the knight.

"Haughty" and "lofty" are trite descriptions. Are there any warhorses that arent "lofty"? How do we know he is haughty if he hasnt done anything?

Raban's attitude is effecting what he sees. Somehow make it come from his perspective. -- Uncle David


Very helpful and specific. I could have sworn I already edited out "lofty". Man, man. I've actually put a lot of thought into how to make the reader understand the angle of narration, the narrator does say things that are Raban's 'opinions' or biased views, and I don't know how to establish that early on. I won't examine everything said in this comment, and it gets 10 points for helpfulness.


Blogger MLS said...

I see what he means about the first paragraph not making it clear that Raban is not the knight. Also, it needs to be clear whether Raban thinks the knight is haughty and lofty or whether the narrator is calling him that. I think that is what Uncle David means by making it come from Raban's perspective, because right now it is merely the narrator saying it. The same applies to the word "strange" in the first paragraph I think.
I do think it gave a good introduction to the time period and to Raban's position in society. I agree with Courtney that the dialogue is good.


More on the narrator, which is, as I said, difficult. I'm hoping that a ways into the book it will be clearer that when the narrator says things it comes from Raban, but maybe I can't sell it and will have to change that style a bit. Another dialogue compliment, which is funny because there is so little on the page. 10 points for clarity and helpfulness.

Blogger MLS said...

p.s. I left the comment above. Not that you would actually think that was Matt, but I meant to sign it. I have something to add anyway. I really like the third paragraph, and the whole rest of the passage actually. In my opinion, your only major problems are in the first two paragraphs. Of course that is no surprise. If openings are hard the openings of openings are the hardest. Carrie


Yeah, no. I could tell it wasn't Matt somehow. I give this one 10 points, but really that is the score of the last two together.




And there we have it. The seven comments judged and commented upon. And now it is time to announce the winner.

And the winner is...

Me, because I wrote the book.


If anyone has any complaints of the judging methods used in this competition, please contact the blog administrator. The easiest way to do that, is to leave a comment (Rejoinder).

Monday, September 20, 2010

First Page

I have now commenced the revision process, and I have begun to discover just how bad my first draft is. I've spent ages fiddling with the first page and have come up with a semblance of a good opener. First pages are exceedingly difficult, especially in historical fiction, because I need to establish so much setting as well as character, and I must get the plot going and not linger around. I write in a fairly sparse style anyway, so the first pages must establish a template of the world, as it were, for the reader to draw on later. So I will post the first page here and I would love it if you could give me some thoughts on it, pertaining to what I said above. Anywhere that leaves you feeling confused, unsure, rushed, bored, etc. Really I'd like to here any thoughts on it at all.



Chapter One

“May the devil gnaw your bones,” Raban said under his breath. “And dredge out the marrow with his tongue.” The strange knight rode on, unaware of the disgust that he provoked.

Raban watched the haughty figure high upon its lofty warhorse. He did not know the man and yet he loathed him and all those like him. The armor and great helm glinted in the sun, giving a pompous warlike appearance. The shield was emblazoned with a passant bear, sable of color, with a dark green cross splayed on the polished steel. Two Squires rode behind, groomed perfectly as another piece of the man’s affectation.

Raban’s old workhorse strained at the harness, and Raban put all his strength into the plough. The earth crumbled free and they moved again. Raban cast a smoldering glance at the horsed figures. There was no respect in the look, as no doubt the knight assumed, but pure contempt. The three horses bore their riders out of sight and Raban fought the earth alone.

Another figure approached, on foot and whistling.

“What kept you, Orry?” called Raban, stopping his horse and smiling. “A pretty maid catch your eye and draw you off your course?”


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