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Showing posts with label The Blue of Antyllus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Blue of Antyllus. Show all posts

Sunday, June 2, 2019

"See your memories." by Michael E. Gonzales


I received one of those “See your memories” notices from facebook this morning.
“Three years ago…” and it displayed one of my early “art” works I used to advertise my first published book, Dark Moon Rising.
Three years and a few months ago I was just a guy writing in his spare time. A suggestion was offered that I might find writing cathartic. I had tried my hand at writing while still on active duty in the Army. As you might imagine an Army officer has very little spare time for any pursuit outside of his normal required duties.

Additionally, I wrote by hand, on paper, with a pen. Imagine.
Needless to say, that poor attempt was worthless, but I did enjoy it.
When I started writing again, I tried writing a fictional story set in WWII, drawing heavily on my own experience which, it turned out, was not a good idea.
That partially completed eight-thousand-word manuscript still exists, but it’s on a floppy disk and so lost to the world…thank heavens.
Sometime later I took my then young son to a science-fiction movie he wanted to see. The story concept was a good one but the movie was terrible. I thought to myself as we left the theatre, I could write that story better than that!
So, I put my computer where my big mouth is and sat down and did just that. I showed the completed work to friends who are sci-fi fans, and one fellow who’s a hard core “Trekkie.”

Every one of them said they really liked it, but I had a lot of punctuation errors and more than a few spelling mistakes.
Well, I started to generate stories and commit them to digital paper.
After I’d written over twenty stories a friend suggested I submit one to a publisher. I blew that Idea off. But, it sat, fermenting in my mind.
So, I started reading up on how to get published. I read all I could about query letters. I found gobs of Sci-Fi publishers who accepted these letters from unproven writers and started sending them out to all I could identify.
A couple actually asked to see the first three chapters. However, all ended up send me nice, boilerplate, rejection letters (I’ve kept them all).

Then by a happy circumstance I met Cheryl. I was only told that she used to be an editor and perhaps she could give me some advice.
We met one lovely afternoon for lunch. And we chatted for over two hours. She did indeed have great advice for me! I wrote it all down (still have the notes).
She asked that I send her my first chapter and she’d look it over.
After a few days she sent an email suggesting I get the manuscript professionally edited then send her the complete document.
After I learned what the editing was going to cost, I almost decided to let the entire matter drop.
        It was my wife who encouraged me and pushed me over the edge.
Once the editing was done, I sent the manuscript to Cheryl, all the while hoping I’d get it back loaded with advice and suggestions on how to improve my writing.
Some two or three weeks later I received an email from Cheryl explaining that she was with Prairie Rose Publications and offered me a contract.
I can’t begin to describe the since of surrealism that engulfed me at that moment.
I had to read the email and the contract twice more, then, I ran screaming out of the den looking for my wife to show the message to her.
“Are we reading the same thing?” I asked her.
Well…three years later and I have five books on the market, and a sixth awaiting publication.

With each published book I still get the same feeling, the same butterflies, as I did with the first.
And when I pick up any of them off my bookshelf and see my name on the cover it’s still surrealistic.
Was it fate, synchronicity, luck? I don’t know, may never know. But I do know that I owe a debt to Cheryl and the lovely people at Firestar Press who rolled the dice on me.
Thank you.










Fire Star Press Blogspot -http://firestarpress.blogspot.com/



Monday, May 6, 2019

Waxing poetic by Michael E. Gonzales


        Allow me to “wax poetic.”

Which of course means to use flowery or expressive language to describe a relatively mundane topic, or use heightened, formal language to communicate a simple thought.

I’m in the middle of writing a story that, when the idea first popped into my head, sounded great!
The outline looked good as well. But as I began to tell the story and to ensure my twists twisted and plotholes weren’t bottomless that “thing” happened; I call it … mission drift.
Somewhere between my brain and my fingertips the story branched off.
The blank page became a swirling haze as the story loomed up out of the abyss and was illuminated by the light of foreboding imagination. Visible before me was a labyrinth of paths so vast as to befuddle the mind of the most indefatigable sage.
Within the mists the events of the outline conflicted with the ever-active imagination. In that instant, as if from a flash of lightning,
was shown the dark tunnel down which the story was hurtling toward a future of pain, misery, confusion, and the slow tedious process of rewriting.
This cloudy road quickly forked, then forked again, and yet again — for neither imagination nor storyline now follow a straight line.
There is always hope for any manuscript.
But hope, in perpetuum, is opposed by evil, and so it is in the mind of this writer. The ruby flames and blood red demons of ubiquitous malevolence threatened even now to consign the manuscript to the dark,
irretrievable depths of the rubbish bin.


The time spent in research, the hours pounding at the keys till my fingertips bleed, the gallons of coffee and the sleepless nights, all for naught.

By the glow of my monitor I gaze out into a darkened room, the only sound the pitiless ticking of the clock. I am loathed to surrender to the demons, so I turn to the better angels of my mind and plead for help.
The answer I knew before I asked. It came to the forefront of my mind as a hard and painful slap with a mailed fist…
“Work harder, ya fool, and quit whining!”
I am reminded of the famous quote:


 Please follow me, I know where I'm going!







Fire Star Press Blogspot - http://firestarpress.blogspot.com/


Monday, April 1, 2019

Fantasy by Michael E. Gonzales



I recently finished a fantasy novel, my second actually, and I have been thinking about the distinctions between fantasy and fiction, specifically Science-Fiction.

In SyFy the writer must adhere to the basic tenets of science as much as possible. In HARD Sci-Fi the only thing an author can get a pass on is time travel and FTL (Faster Than Light) travel. All else must have a firm scientific foundation.

In so called “soft” SyFy the Author is allowed considerably more latitude, but the hard-Sci-Fi fans will not look sideways at your stories. Nevertheless, in all SyFy there are certain rules that must be followed. I have not found these rules restrictive of my imagination, however. They just insure you remain in the genre.

Not that these rules can’t or haven’t been bent. In my novel, Across a Sea of Stars, I have blended SyFy and fantasy in a rather seamless manner, if I do say so myself, and I’m far from the first to do so.

Fantasy, on the other hand, presents the author a limitless canvas upon which to allow his imagination to explode, to explore its own vast depths.

Having said that, there are a few rubrics an author should operate within. In the world of fantasy, as in every genre, there are canon one should, generally adhere to, i.e.:  should you bring a dragon into your story the reader will expect you to present that dragon as he exists in popular thought. 

Oh, don’t get me wrong, you can take considerable license, but should you describe a mouse with bat wings who is able to spit ice cold rainbows he’s not going to be generally accepted as a dragon, accept in children’s book, of course.

I have discovered  there is a very large segment of the fantasy readership out there who are dragon devotees.  They will seldom accept anything short of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Smaug as a dragon. Unless of course you are very, very good with your winged mouse.

And there is also sacred canon to be observed. If you should invoke any part of the Arthur myth into your story be prepared to plunge in to vast amounts of research long before you even open Word, or prepare to burned on the spit of public rejection.

In fantasy there are certain “must haves” such as magic, wizards and witches (in some form or another) and creatures from legend, or from the legends you create.

So, it would appear that the limitless canvas has its signposts, its roads and paths, some seldom trod. Regardless, fantasy writing, for me, has been a great deal of fun. I will linger in this genre a while, I think.

I do hope those who have read my SyFy stories will follow me...down the yellow brick road.


Please visit my Web Site:  http://www.mikegonzalesauthor.com/home.html



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Dark Moon Rising, Battle of Broken Moon, Across a Sea of Star, The Vampires of Antyllus, The Blue of Antyllus, ActionAction AdventureAlien worldsAliensbattleDark Moon RisingFireStarPressMichael E. Gonzalesmikegonzalesauthor.comNewReleaseRomance,science fictionsyfy






Tuesday, January 8, 2019

New Release -- The Blue of Antyllus (The Unborn Galaxy Book 5) by Michael E. Gonzales

The alien world of Antyllus is moving forward under new rule now that the war has been fought and won. With the native E’meset tribe joining with the emerging rebel Earth forces against Wilmington, the nefarious commander of the corrupt IIEA army of mercenaries, a tenuous peace has been patched together—but the solution for that peace is not workable for some, and whispers of a deadly uprising are in the wind...

Captain Nash Rastaban tries to rebuild his life after being duped into fighting with Wilmington’s iniquitous forces. He is recruited by Dave Mitchell to help quell the mercenaries who plan to take over Antyllus—a battle he wants no part of. But when he stands to lose all he holds dear, he realizes that peace is something he is going to have to fight for—this time, on the right side.

Will Antyllus ever be settled? Can the E’meset trust the humans and SUBs to fight alongside them against those corrupt officials who would take over Antyllus for their own gain? Power is a formidable motivator, but Antyllus—and all it stands for—is worth this fight…worth dying for. Nash and the ragtag band of soldiers he leads are determined to protect their homes, their loves, and their lives—even if it means making a last, defiant stand here in THE BLUE OF ANTYLLUS…

EXCERPT:


     Not long after the celebration had started, a call went out to all personnel with any form of medical training to report to any one of the medical facilities within New Roanoke.
     After eating, Tanny donned her mask and wandered about through the throngs, she eventually found herself at the eastern gate, a huge set of concrete doors surmounted with a wall of reinforced razor wire. Beyond that was what the humans called “The Wild Blue Yonder,” or just “The Blue,” ― the vast, untamed and deadly forest covering the planet. The trees grew taller than on Earth in the lower gravity. The forest’s colors were various shades of cyan, blues, purples, and even black. Here and there were other colors such as orange, red, and green, but all dark shades. This was a result of the pale light from the planet’s red dwarf star.
     The low light required vegetation on Antyllus to possess more photosynthetic pigments to capture radiation in a wider range of wavelengths. These plants reflected little of the light that struck them; thus, they had adapted these colors as best for photosynthesis.
     Just outside the east gate and beyond the three-hundred-meter kill zone, the cyan wall of this alien forest stood witness over the site of the heaviest fighting. Bodies littered the ground. The bloody scene told the tale of the great violence that had washed over the area. The sight of the carnage horrified Tanny.