How to be an Author

Posted on November 6, 2013 by R. Richardsson

Excellent advice for anyone thinking of telling their story. I definitely recommend this for any aspiring writer!

When people ask me what I do, I tell them that I write (it’s more interesting than my other job). I tell them that I’ve self-published two novels and one novella, and that I was even quite successful for a while. Inevitably, they ask me, “How do you do that? I’ve always wanted to write a book!” I’m sure they’d like some neat, simple answer, but of course there isn’t one. Perhaps they’d like a list of ingredients, as if making a book followed a simple recipe, which it does not. So, in the interests of achieving the impossible, I’ll attempt to provide such a recipe here, amongst these hallowed posts, so that the next time someone asks, I can simply point them here and say, “Look! That is how it’s done.” *

* The author accepts no responsibility for any loss of free time, hair, or printing ink that…

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Upcoming Interview

Posted on November 5, 2013 by R. Richardsson

In just a few short days, I will find myself with an opportunity that is bigger than I can possibly imagine.

For those of my readers who have yet to read my post regarding my book signing, I invite you to take a few moments to go check it out.

Are we all caught up?

Good! So then you know about the photographer I met while there? Excellent.

I took his advice and contacted the news reporter and with-in a couple hours I had a delighted response and invitation!

Just so we’re all clear here; I will be appearing on a local news station, for an onscreen interview, regarding my vampire hunter trilogy!

This is unheard of for me. When I sent off the email, at best I expected to be politely let down. I figured that a reply would find its way into my inbox, at the end of the week, explaining how they appreciated my candor, but this wasn’t something they weren’t interesting in doing at this time. Imagine my surprise when I was proven wrong a short time later!

There are a million questions running through my mind, but, am I nervous? Years ago, I participated in a trombone trio that went to State, as part of my band class. I had to perform before two thousand of my peers and the judges. I’ve given a few speeches to small crowds of people, mostly family, but also before my peers in Speech class. Of course, and most recently, I spent an evening describing the plot and story of the my first book to several interested readers. In every instance, once I got in front of the mic, everything else fell into place.

The question remains. Am, I, Nervous?

A little, admittedly. But it’s not like I will be speaking before a huge audience. At most, it will be myself, the interviewer and the cameraman. It will be in a comfortable setting that will make it seem like the interviewer and myself are having a friendly discussion, so I’m not to worried about the pressure. Of course, I don’t know what will be in the panoramic that isn’t seen from the viewer’s point of view, but that shouldn’t be too bad.

It feels more like I’m preparing to give exactly what it is; an interview. He will have questions, I will have answers, and before I know it we’ll be shaking hands and parting ways.

Do I have concerns? Of course I do. This is the first time that anyone in my immediate family will appear on TV for a good reason! *laughs* Okay, in all seriousness and joking aside, this is something that has a lot of potential to get my work out there.

Sure, I’ve sold some books. I’ve also donated some to the Little Free Libraries around town! Add in the signing and I have had a fairly good run these last two months. My concern is as to whether or not I am able to be concise, and more importantly, professional about the work I’ve invested so much time in creating. This is, after all, going to be my first author interview!

My plan is to treat it as if the reporter interviewing me is an interested reader. Since I will be speaking to him about the trilogy, I simply need to give my best synopsis, offer the baited hook and hope he takes a bite. If he believes it, the rest should fall into place, right?

Oh, but we shall see, won’t we…?

For now, I try to make sense of the hurricane in my mind, capture my thoughts as they are violent whipped to and fro and start writing some notes. I should prepare my best synopsis, practice reciting it and go from there.

Wish my luck, my friends.

——-

R. Richardsson Interview with Ralph Hipp, WIBW Channel 13, 4:00pm Central Time, November 11, 2013

For those unable to view the program, I will be later capturing the video and uploading it to my YouTube Channel.

The Box (Part XI)

Posted on November 5, 2013 by R. Richardsson

Oramiir walked through the eye of the storm, his robes rippling gently with each carefully placed step. He walked in large strides, with his right hand horizontally clenched before him. From afar, it might appear as if he were looking down the back of his forearm, lining up his path over his knuckles, but what one wouldn’t notice from any distance greater than five feet were the small crimson lines that ran out of either side of his fist.

Small drops of blood fell from his hand, but never reached the stone ground below. The sorcerer’s eyes glared over the back of his knuckles, deep in concentration as he focused on the magical dweomer from a ring on his middle finger. As each crimson drop fell from his hand, he called forth the powerful magic to send the sticky substance far ahead of him, where its scent would drive the creatures into a maddened fervor, snarling with an insatiable lust for the blood that now seemed to be all around them.

The flow began to thicken and he sighed as the ring’s power finally exhausted. For a few moments longer, he watched with a bemused expression as he hand shook wildly, before slowly lowering it to his side. The dark arts of the blood magic were taking its toll on his body much sooner than he expected. Even as he pondered this, the hourglass dipped before him, falling ever so slightly from where it had been hovering.

With a predatory grin, he watched a the last few sands fell from into the bottom of the container. Quickly, he lifted his hand once more, opening it to catch the enchanted item as its magic also exhausted, causing it to fall to the ground. Thankfully, his reflexes didn’t betray him and he caught it with ease.

In the same instant that the item’s power was no more, there came a low rumble of thunder as every item’s sound rushed back to their source. The sounds moved so quickly that for a split second he felt as if it were that fateful moment before the heavens opened and the flood-rains came.

Though he knew he was alone, he was still momentarily startled when he found himself surrounded by the sounds of frenzied battle. Elladuer’s battle cries dominated the sounds of the Destrachan, which were horrifying enough on their own, but he thought he could also hear the weak cries of the hobbit as well.

His lips curled even higher, lifting his cheeks and turning his features into a visage so terrible that to look upon it would send any lesser creatures fleeing at its sight. As the battle began to wane, decidedly in the favor of the Destrachan, he threw his head back and cackled insanely.

From its hidden perch nearby, a large bat opened its eyes and watched distrustfully as the man passed beneath it. It’s first instinct was to attack the creature that dared disturb its slumber, but the evil which radiated from him sent it fluttering down the tunnels in the opposite direction to seek a safer place to rest.