The Demons’ Cry (Chapter 6) – Fantasy Series

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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She was there with him in the hazing flames. He watched her through blurred eyes, twirling in the smoke and colour, smiling through the glare. They reminded him of her. Not in the poetic fashion so alien to his heart, but in the heavy tug of sense memory. How often had they looked into fires together? They had faced down destruction and ruin. They had felt the heat and smelt the char, carried the burden of their own proficiency in death. It had hurt, it had weighed heavy, but they had borne it without fear because each had carried the weight of the other.

“It turns out, I’m really not that strong when I’m not standing on your shoulders.”

He drank again. He shook the ale down his shirt and coughed it in a mist on to the flames. He wondered how it would come for him this time. What would be first? The gavel of the favoured? The spitting torches of the mob? The tossing of what little he had from the only small corner of the world that was left to him? Yes, that seemed most likely. Homelessness would do for him first and the rest would come later, when he was forced to do what he must to survive. If you were here, it wouldn’t matter. We would laugh as we left and build again elsewhere, where we thought they couldn’t reach us. But they can reach us everywhere, sweetheart. And I’m tired of building.

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How to Use Apostrophes

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Ah apostrophes. The bane of sign-makers and internet pedants everywhere. It seems so simple; they’re just commas in the sky, but dig a little further and they will trip you up with their many howevers and buts. So let’s dive right in and answer: How do you use apostrophes?

We’ll start this writing guide with the basics. Apostrophes have two functions; they indicate possession and the omission of letters. Let’s start with possession.

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The Augustine Bells – Fantasy Poem

Today on Sentient Ink, something a little different. Following on from D.C. Ward’s Tale of Armless Tom, here is a poem of my own from my fantasy universe. A well-known ditty, it tells the story of the Augustine Bells, which act as a call to arms for all who are loyal to the Aurelians and Aurelia, the militarised realm they rule, charged with defending the empire.

 The Augustine Bells:

By Ancus Novian

 Sound the bells, the Augustine bells,

That stir the heavens and stun the hells,

‘tis the musical backdrop to empires felled,
To pirates defeated, to uprisings quelled,

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Wartorn: The Brink – Action Prose

By Chris Wright

Following on from Andy Wright’s The Walk of Shadows – Footsteps, today I am bringing you an excerpt from my own novel. More specifically, here is the first chapter of my wartime epic Wartorn. I’d love any feedback comments and reviews.

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He was lost again, drifting in the ether. It was becoming ever easier, he noted dully, to escape into the unfeeling bliss of nothingness and ever harder to return to the harsh realities of life and war. In a way it was good, he thought, a coping mechanism to release him from the torment and pain, from the endless exhaustion. But it disturbed him too, the thought that he was losing his grip on reality. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was irrevocably broken.

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The Demons’ Cry (Chapter 5) – Fantasy Series

By Chris Wright

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Ryda had seen healthier looking mares dragged from the Dalsta River after the drunken celebrations of Horseman’s Day. They had the look of two butcher’s sacks – all bones with only the merest missed bits of meat and gristle. Patchwork fur of brown and grey stuck like weeds from the discoloured skin of the nearest, while its mate seemed to have been shaved entirely, or else grown bald through age or lack of effort. Ryda expressed these views frankly to the sheriff, who responded with a look and a thrown saddle to the gut.

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The Slow Regard of Silent Things, by Patrick Rothfuss – Review

Sentient Ink Logo-01We delve into the curious depths of Auri’s mind in Patrick Rothfuss’ intriguing novella The Slow Regard of Silent Things. Taking us back into the stunningly well-realised world of the Kingkiller Chronicle, Rothfuss delivers an unusual story from the point of view of Auri – one of the most compelling and mysterious minor characters in the epic fantasy franchise. The Slow Regard is a risk, something Rothfuss happily acknowledges, but does it pay off?

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The Demons’ Cry (Chapter 4) – Fantasy Series

By Chris Wright

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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The painted red sign inside the sheriff’s office helpfully informed Ryda that he was in Kelsa Tur. The name was familiar and he pondered upon it as he scratched at the irritated skin of his manacled wrist. He wasn’t manacled to anything, which was always nice when he found himself in these situations, but his wrists and ankles were chained together, forcing him to sit uncomfortably upright in the stiff wooden chair. The seat opposite, across the stark and creaking table, was vacant as the sheriff stood fiddling with files across the room. Kelsa Tur. No, it was no good. He’d barely been listening when the captain had told his crew of the colonies and he couldn’t be bothered to think deeper on it. Still, it was nice to know.

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The Demons’ Cry (Chapter 3) – Fantasy Series

By Chris Wright

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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She was there. She had waited for him; he should have known she would. Gods, she was beautiful. Her hair shimmered in the blinding light, casting long-fingered shadows upon the ground. Her cheeks were flushed and lightly-freckled and her hazelnut eyes captured his and held on. The air around them seemed to dance and whisper. It whipped her hair and carried her sweet scent, jasmine and derotess flower. He took her in, every single inch of her, every sight and smell, the tinkle of her laugh as he stared for too long. She grinned her wicked grin and he felt himself respond in kind.

He tried to move, to stride forward and take her in his arms, but he couldn’t. His feet were stuck, as if bolted to the ground, and he struggled in vain. The wicked smile grew wider, but he was starting to become desperate, tugging at his legs, begging them to move. And then there were voices, odd and uninvited. She was fading. No. They were taking her from him. He pulled and pulled, reaching for her, shouting her name. Please. No. But the voices were growing louder and she was almost gone and soon it had all faded to black. Continue reading

How to Physically Write a Novel – Writing Guide

Sentient Ink Logo-01By Chris Wright

So you have your idea. It’s brilliant, genre redefining. You can see your characters as fully fleshed beings in your mind and the plot stretches out before you in glorious Technicolor, its intricate twists and devious turns ready to be unleashed into the world. So, now what?

Publishers, agents and the public at large really prefer if you somehow translate your abstract masterpiece into a series of symbols that can be visibly observed and decoded as language. Preferably, if you speak English (or many other languages) the 26 letters of the Latin alphabet. OK, I’m sorry, I’m going to stop being facetious and get to the crux of the matter. You have your idea, you need to get it down. Do you type? Do you write? Laptop? Pen? Typewriter? Pencil? Phone? Felt tip? What is the best way to physically write a book?

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