Here’s a little sample for you.

One more log on the bonfire.
As I looked through the flames I could almost conjure his face. Almost. Something was always a little off, though, I never could decide what it was. Maybe if I wasn’t such a failure at conjuring, I could make him appear.

I could hear the waves crashing more than a mile away; the starless night amplified every sound. My nightly vigil ahead of me, I cleared a space of moss and weeds with a large wedge-shaped stone. I measured the small clearing with my staff to make sure it was perfectly square. When I was content with the shape, I placed a round stone at each of the corners, three blue and one green.

I placed my staff along the fireside edge of the clearing and knelt in the center. The firelight glanced off of a worm and a couple pillbugs as they squirmed and scurried to the cover of the damp moss. The grit of earth dug into my bare knees. My arms spread wide, welcoming the warmth of the fire. Tatters of sleeves hung from my arms.

I took a breath in, counting the drumbeats in my head to twelve. Twelve beats in and twelve beats out. I bowed my head to the dirt, stretching my arms out behind me, pointing to the cornerstones, one blue and one green. My heart slowed, I counted the beats, twelve. Then it stopped.

Care to guess where this is going? Fun! Fun!

So we had a fun Christmas, a sewing Christmas, and I’d love to share with you all the fun things we did!

Every year we try to come up with a theme for my Mom’s gifts. This year I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to afford to do any special theme because of last minute car problems (kaput alternator right before a big concert!). Then I had the idea to make all of Mom’s presents (not a new or original idea, by any standards, but I’m stubborn and sometimes lazy [fine, often lazy]). So my wittle baby brother and I went to Joann’s Fabrics (my favorite place) and went a little crazy!

Pom pom pajama pants!

Fun w/ pink fuzzy fabric!

Everyone got pajama pants but Mom’s were the most fun. That pink facric sheds like crazy when you cut it; by the end of the day Shayne and I were covered in pink fluff!

I love the Skull and crossbones patch!

My first quilt block made into a pillow.

24 hour lap quilt.

Mom and her gifts.

We made a scarf, a standard pillowcase, Danny (hubby) made the stuffed rabbit, and Grandma Wulf sent an afghan that my Great Grandma Lane made, and it matches! We had such a great Christmas! I hope yours was great as well!

Order quick!

And have a very merry Christmas!

~Charly

I got the book anyway, and I’m glad I did. Like I said, it is written in Elizabethan English, but don’t let that scare you, it is not over done.  She starts every chapter with a quote from the original story, even when her story differs from the original, which I love! Just a good book, nice story, I only wish she would have given the characters a little more time to breathe after the resolution so you could revel in the happy ending just a little longer before it’s over. I liked feeling like I was reading an older book, I love classics and Dickens/Austen type language and that is what it felt like, just a little more easily readable.

I give it 5 out of 5 stars =-) Check it out here.

Lawhead is a Christian writer and I am always amazed at how simply and profoundly he tells a message, without preaching or seeming to make the story all about the message. I don’t read Lawhead for his Christian message, I read it for the story, but he sneaks up on you and before you realize what happened you’re almost in tears because of the wonderful message.

This book happens to be about a bunch of monks who set off to deliver the book of Kells to the Emperor at Byzantium, so the Christian theme is obviously a bit stronger (if it wasn’t it wouldn’t be very believable). Of course everything goes horribly wrong and Aedan (our monk) ends up a slave of Vikings, then a spy, and many other things. One of my favorite parts in the book is when Aedan is trying to tell the story of the crucifixion of Christ to the Vikings in a way they would understand.

Another 5 out of 5 stars for Lawhead! Check it out here.

S’pose that’s enough of an update on grumpy ‘ol me! Here’s the promised excerpt of Tully and Rourke my current project:

The Growl
Tully opened his eyes, blinking away the blood, “What did I hit my head on this time, Rourke?” But Rourke didn’t answer. Tully picked at the blood that had started to dry in his eyelashes, then he heard it. That growl. Tully knew the pitch exactly. It didn’t take him long to locate his friend, standing his ground in the midst of at least a dozen angry men, as usual.

What had happened? Tully checked to be sure he hadn’t wet himself, it had been known to happen on occasion. Most of the time he would just hit his head, though once or twice it had been worse and he was ever thankful that the faithful Rourke stubbornly refused to leave his side, it had saved his life many times.

The worst had probably been the ferry crossing over a swollen river. Rourke had dove in after him nearly freezing to death in the process. The last thing Tully had remembered before finding himself laying on the bank was watching chunks of ice gliding downstream.

That time the ferry man and his wife had taken them in for the night, but most of the times they hadn’t been that lucky.

People just didn’t understand. The two had been chased out of so many towns he was beginning to lose count. When people saw his eyes roll back in his head and his body shake violently the first thing they thought was that he was demon possessed. That was, everyone but Rourke.

Rourke didn’t talk much. Tully really didn’t know much about him, in fact, when he was asked to describe him not much would come to mind except the growl. And people were afraid of Tully! But Tully knew better.

The growl continued only a few yards away. The townsmen were telling Rourke to leave and take his possessed friend with him. “Telling,” of course, was putting it very mildly.

Tully got up and carefully approached his friend, “Rourke, let’s go, it’s not worth it,” but Rourke only growled in return. Tully tugged at his arm, “Come on, I’m fine, let’s just go.”

There were jeers and threats flying a steady stream at the odd pair but Tully ignored them. He could never really get used to the hostility his problem excited in people, but he had started to become just a little deaf to it.

Rourke was not so lucky, though. Every burning arrow shot at his friend first had to pass through him. Each shot seared his heart and blistered inside him till all that was left was the growl, the wild animal protecting his own.

“We. Have. To. Go.” A few more pounds and an extra inch or two in height would really help about now. Tully tried to pull him away, but Rourke stood firm.

A shot was fired in the air, it pealed like thunder echoing off the cliffs that surrounded the tiny settlement. That did it. Rourke snapped out of his madness just long enough to comprehend his friend. He grabbed his own muddied sack and tore down the road, dragging Tully behind him.

But I’m not gonna sit here crying over spilled milk, lesson learned, moving on.

I wouldn’t trade this summer for anything. I got to spend a lot of time with my Beth before she moved to Charleston and had a birthday/book party I will always remember. For pictures look here. We kind of forgot to take pictures during the party, but we had a lot of fun with pictures after it.

So now I’m stuck trying to get back into the writing groove. I’ve got my favorite tea and my favorite writing music on hoping it’s not gonna take an all-nighter to get the words flowing (all-nighters really mess up my sleep schedule, I get grumpy). I’ve almost hit the 500 word mark (my usual daily goal) twice this week, I’ve done a lot of outlining, and I’m really excited about the new turn the story has taken. So pray for me or wish me luck and soon I’ll be reporting how great the writing is going!

To completely change the subject, my Europeana rose just completely exploded with blooms this last week (right before the rain hit and I had to bring most of them inside, oh darn). Check out some of the pictures I took, unfortunately pictures barely convey the spectacular beauty of these roses. If you like roses and happen to find a Europeana rose, by all means buy it! I’ve had a little problem with mildew, but it is worth it for these blooms!

Europeana

More Europeana

Even more Europeana!

God bless!

So much fun! It was also my birthday (28!), my Mom’s divorce (I am anti-divorce, but not in this case, getting away from “him” was a matter of life and death, literally), and a going away party for my best friend Beth =(. It was a multi-purpose party.

We had a lot of fun with pictures after the party for more go here.

Thank you everyone who helped (especially Mom!) and everyone who came!

Danny's favorite picture

One of the things I do when searching for a good book is to read the first couple paragraphs (or pages) to get a feel for the writing style and see if it grabs my attention. Though it is not essential to my decision, I absolutely love a good first line. So I thought I’d list a few of my favorites here.

“So now. One day they hang me for a rouge. Fair enough. I have earned it a hundred times over, I reckon, and that’s leaving a lot of acreage unexplored. The jest of it is, the crime for which I swing is the one offense I never did do.” –Stephen R. Lawhead, Scarlet

This is a particularly good one since it really sets the tone for the whole book. Without being corny or feeling like a thinly disguised literary devise. Lawhead keeps you wondering about that first statement for almost the entire book. A real page turner, and a great beginning to boot!

“I saw Byzantium in a dream, and I knew I would die there.” –Stephen R. Lawhead, Byzantium

I’ve already got a theme here, two actually: Stephen R. Lawhead and death.

“Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that.” –Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Love this one, so irreverent. Makes me laugh every time a read it. Hmm, more death though . . .

Now for my ultimate favorite:

“He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad.” –Rafael Sabatini, Scaramouche

I knew there was one that wasn’t about death. I love this line because I can instantly relate with the character. The world is mad!

Sadly the first line of my own book is a little lacking when compared to these four:

“Fayre would often sit among the berries of a certain rowan tree, where she could watch, without being seen, the young Faery children playing and flying about, for her hair was near the color of the berries.” –Me, Fayre Tales: The Rose Born

I’m working on it =-)

What are your favorite first lines? What do you think makes a first line great (other than death)?