The Elysian Fields

I have a lot of things I *should* be working on... so what happens?

Yep, that's right, as I should be getting up and getting in the shower and going, I catch sight of a friend liking a picture someone posted, and I look at a few other pictures posted on that page, and I catch a glimpse of a picture as I scroll by that might involve a certain watery tart and a sword (but it may not, I didn't look at it closely, so it might just have been a knight-lady in a sunny woodland glade or something entirely different) and suddenly I'm scrambling to open a new window in Open Office, and I'm typing... and this is (completely unedited) what I get:

Lady in the Lake

By Everett A Warren

That's not how the story goes.

Her voice is raspy, cold, weighted down by the years. There's wisps of grey visible from under the cloak, but not much else you can read from her. Maybe the hunching over, that curve like a sapling that reaches fast for the light and then, over time, bends closer to the ground... maybe that arc is from the weight of that cloak. A thick, heavy, unforgiving material like a warrior might wear. Why scratch the armour when that dense, uncomfortable fabric will turn the sharpest blade and dampen the mightiest hammer. The kind of weight that is not for old women to bear, but is invaluable to the young warrior.

So she tells me that's not how the story goes, and I'm caught. Story is my stock and trade, and I had been telling all about Arturo and Kam and the Table Round and The Sword and I know the tale, know it through and through, the words tripping off my tongue beautifully, and each word lovingly crafted into the whole.

I should know better, because I do know better. And who could know better than I? After all, it was not some poor, bent beggarlady who had watched The Sword from its Sheath leap out into Arturo's hand, glimmering with glamours and preternatural light. It was not some scraggly withered wench who listened attentively to the Wise Woman Myrlynne as she prophesied and advised and taught the Boy Who Would Be King.

And it was not, most certainly and empathetically not, no way, no how, some vile peasant wretch of a hag, a grandmother of shit and dirt and nothing of any worth whatsoever, who slid the blade betwixt Arturo's plate and into that soft, yielding under layer of his flesh, letting his blessed royal lifeblood flow on to the battlefield on that, his last day, and...

Pardon. A moment please.

There.

You see, I was there.

It was I.

I am Mordred.

Oh, some say I was Arturo's younger brother, some say I was his son. We called each other brothers, and although we spilt much blood side by side through the years, the blood that ran within us was wholly our own.

But that is of little matter, it merely clarifies some of the tales you may have heard. Which brings me back to this tale, and the tale I had been telling when this mere woman claims I am wrong and that my story is not what I know it to be, and that the tale I am telling takes a different path entirely.

My anger rises, and the years fall from me, the curse revived, and still... I listen to her, ensnared, myself and my audience now hers. I hear her words wind and twist and echo and resolve, and I wonder briefly if this is Myrlynne, freed from her entrapment -- which I was quite sure involved her death as well, or as close as I could manufacture to it -- and come to seek revenge, because so magickal are her speakings that I can not help but believe.

Copyright 2013 Everett Ambrose Warren

The Skeleton in Armour

By Everett A Warren

an excerpt, slightly but not nearly completely edited

My client was dead to begin with.

I'd say that you needed to understand this, or nothing after would seem wondrous strange, but this isn't Dickens and it's not even London. There, I would expect the cobblestones to be lousy with big lugs like this, crawling out of their mounds or wading ashore, as leaky as their tubs they sank to the bottom in, but this is Longfellow's town. It doesn't matter what manner of mischief came over with the Pilgrims, nor what slipped to our shores since from the Old Country or Older Countries, if you catch my angle, but the last thing I thought I'd see standing there dripping all over my fine Persian, one meat hook holding the damask canopy around my bed aside, filling my room and then some, was a massive Viking warrior in full battle array, just several centuries past his prime.

He set the axe down and I took a breath, thinking this just might not be the last thing I see, which took a load off, I can tell you. He almost crushed the little folding number I leave out for my dressing gown, and him not even skin with those bones, because whatever flesh he had fed the fishes long ago. I didn't quite hear his sigh -- no lungs, no air, you know how it is -- but it was there nonetheless as he settled into the chair.

I took a moment to compose myself, then quickly reached behind me and gave out my own little sigh of relief, with real live breath included, no less. My sweet butler sleeps deeply, but not that deeply, and I didn't want to have to replace the furniture if he woke up to find Snorri Skeletonson here in his squeeze's boudoir. Although an ogre's handy to have around for all kinds of reasons, I was more than happy to remember he was working down the docks to make some folding green while seeking his return to a more upscale vocation. As strong as he is, and no matter how I like him by my side, I don't think I would have been able to prevent him from being destroyed. See, I have an eye for power, and the bones before me were old, worn... and if their power were liquid, it wouldn't just drip like the saltwater onto my rug and robe. No, it would put the Molasses Flood of '19 to shame, and I'd have to find a new city to live in.

If I survived.

I shifted to the edge of the bed, leaving the silks behind, and walked across the room. His head turned to watch, flares of light within empty eye sockets following my progress, and me with all the flesh he doesn't have. I am not a modest dame by any measure, and to tell the truth if he had been hale and hearty, I might have done the same. Well, perhaps not, as I would have no need to gather a few things just to chin with my new friend, and I might even just ask him for the robe he's sitting on. Or I might give him lead poisoning, but you can't exactly let daylight into something that's been dead so long there's not a scrap of meat left behind to catch lead.

I grab some salts, some sands, and a little bit of that glitter I picked up at Filene's the other day. I say the words as I walk back towards him, casting a trail of colour with each hand, leaving the marks on the floor in just the right pattern. The glitter? Cut a doll some slack, I was losing out on my beauty sleep and needed something to add a little pretty to my night.

"So... tall, bone-white, and handsome wasn't in my cards. That gypsy girl hyped me, didn't she?"

I sit down in front of him and wait for him to speak. Sometimes it can take a while, but that is all up to them, and there's nothing for me to do but crack light to pass the time. I don't even have to try to think of a good joke, because he jaws almost before I'm even settled in. I listen to what he's got to say, and then I agree to take the case. From somewhere up in there under his deepest blue-green byrnie, where organs used to be, Beowulf's uncle pulls out a bar of gold that looks nearly as time-worn as he does. He sets it down almost gently on the floor at my feet, tops it off with a string of amber, gathers up his weaponry, nods once, and he walks out of the room.

I take it back. Maybe it is wondrous strange. Even with what all I've come across, it certainly plays out something surreal.

I stand, twirl and sweep an arm low, and all the signs and sigils are cleared, carried by little swirls of wind and tidied up in little piles under the armoire and, well, other corners of the room. Out of the way, and harmless enough until some morning when I need something to do. A whisper over the gold and it's off to safe keeping, only a slight haze that fades quickly, and a shimmer of glitter of the genuine variety left behind as I wrap the unfinished raw amber around my neck, glancing in the full length and finding them fair fetching with my fiery red locks. The weight of the gold -- and the even greater value of the amber to the warrior -- is a reminder this little romp won't be duck soup.

To reflect proper gravitas and give Leif Deadguy his due, I smile sweetly at myself in the mirror before a yawn rolls in and swallows me whole. I stretch and collapse into bed, asleep almost before I'm down and covered, visions of runes dancing in my head.

Copyright 2013 Everett Ambrose Warren

If you enjoyed this little teaser, stay tuned for news of what happens next ~ all I have to do is write it! Simple as that! And, of course, get it edited and published. And all those other little niggling kind of things. You can, however, read an earlier fantasy noir tale featuring this same private investigator, The Hollow Man, which can be found in the pages of Fae Fatales: A Fantasy Noir Anthology.

Put about 1,800 words on l'Abattoir, breaking the 20k barrier by a little more than 500 when you add it all together. There is now, officially, an Act Three, as the outline (five or so words of it eaten up so far) gives way to "finished" story. Our tiny (150' long, if I recall) ship is tossed as a storm approaches... then we get all kinds of actiony things going on, full of piratey goodness and Lady MacBathory bloodthirstiness and manipulations, before we get to the grand finale...

And from the other day:

Almost 1,000 words on l'Abattoir ~ all the more surprising because:

1. it was at the dealership while they took care of a recall
2. it was all in outline form... 1k words in outline form... and theres still a whole lot of the 3rd act that is not fleshed out, and none of the act is what I'd call "fully" outlined! Meaning the 3 acts of this piratey steampunkity (pre-punk, really) story may not be a novella, but might actually end up as a full-sized (but probably not ginormous) novel.

Whodathunkit?

Which was further updated with:

And 1.5k words more... and the outline phrase "land excursion" now has some bones to it... some of them broken, some eaten... Lady MacBathory is having fun now!

Time to switch gears, turn on some sea shanties (non traditional, as they really came from the period of clipper ships, but they help set the mood!) and PotC soundtracks, and write some of this thing!

You can keep up with updates on Facebook by liking my Author's Page.

"You don't talk aelfen royalty and hobgoblin kingpin tangled together without attracting some untoward attentions from every Tam, Dick, and Houri from Brú na Bóinne to Hy-Brasil." And yet, that's exactly the kind of tale a certain hard-boiled PI is going to tell you all about in The Hollow Man, Everett A. Warren's contribution to the anthology.

~ ~ ~

Which anthology? This fantasy noir anthology by Solarwyrm Press!

Your support will make it happen and help support the ten writers whose work graces the pages! There are options to get an e-book or a print copy, and there are other perks for those who can afford to provide more support. If you can't afford a copy at this time, then you can still help us out by liking the campaign, the Facebook page, the pages of the authors, and posting links to any or all of those kinds of things!

Thanks for reading!

My first collection of poetry is available on Amazon.com (which means it should be able to be ordered through your local bookstore!) Go and check out Poetry from the Porch Period, buy early, buy often, like it, read it, and review it!

All the poems in this collection are nature-based, things I've observed from the porch of my former residence, in the woods of northeast PA. Weather, plants and trees, birds, insects, processions of elves, children, and other sorts of wild critters are featured on these pages.

"Empress Awakened" went out to a market and received its second rejection slip. It's now on its way to market #3. "The Sky Galleons of Mediolanum" was rejected from the anthology I wrote it for. It's now on its way to another market. They'll get through someday!

I created an author's page on Facebook... check it out here: Everett A Warren. I still want LJ to post stuff to my regular account, so I'll have to duplicate the writing related posts that originate here, but there will be some original content there as well. The Facebook page is very likely to get the updates first!

I reached out to a bunch of newspapers and a library to help build contacts for future book signings and press releases and so forth. Still have a number of libraries and bookstores on my list, some of which I'll go on personal visits to over the next few weeks.

There's been a lot going on, and it's been very hectic around here, so there hasn't been any writing this past week. I should be getting some more words written down soon.

Finished Works:

• Full Moon Poetry, urban fantasy, 14,100 words ~ in editing ~ needs formatted ~ two markets in mind
• Trouble and Captain Jack, steampunk, 8,600 words, edited, formatted, queried, and submitted 8/27/2012
• Ghost Dance, urban fantasy, 5,500 words, edited, formatted, waiting for market's reading period to open in October
• The Hollow Man, fantasy noir, 4,600 words, submitted 6/14/2012
• The Sky Galleons of Mediolanum, Renaissance-Era Macedonian Empire steampunk, 4,400 words, submitted 9/2/2012
• Of the Leaves and of the Waves, urban fantasy, 4,100 words, edited, formatted, waiting for market's reading period to open in October
• A Rose for Princess, fairy talish fantasy, 3,800 words, submitted 8/1/2012
• Gathering, urban fantasy, 3,100 words, in editing, for an anthology
• Never Ever After, myth/fantasy, 3,100 words, in editing, have market in mind
• Empress Awakened, classic fantasy, 1,400 words, submitted 9/2/2012

In Progress:

• Kryptos, Renaissance-Era Macedonian Empire steampunk novel, 53,700 words out of maybe 120,000 (mostly notes)
• L'Abattoir, pirate steampunk novella, 15,900 words out of maybe 60,000
• The Ellyssian Tarot, tarot deck and book, 13,000 words out of maybe 120,000 (mostly notes)
• The Gauntlet, fantasy novel, 5,500 words out of maybe 120,000
• Mad Max, steampunk, 3,100 words out of ?
• Changeling, werewolf, 1,300 words out of ?
• The Last Great Battle, classic fantasy, 1,200 words out of ?
• green tracks, urban fantasy, 100 words out of ?

Finished off the editing for Trouble and Captain Jack, formatted it for submission. Now... just need to hear back on the query for that anthology. I'm a little concerned, as it's been a little while...

If the story doesn't get into that anthology, I will take it to other markets.

Spent some time critiquing the works of others in the writing group, and a bit of time working on l'Abattoir, the piece I brought to the group. I should have spent some time working on the green man piece, as that's going to be a bigger and bigger challenge the longer I wait.

Speaking of green men, Green Man Envy has been slowing down as of late. I'd really like to get more nature-based art, poetry, and writing on there by other people... got anything suitable? Get in touch with me, and we can discuss it!

Great sale on Lulu.com, visit the main page to get the applicable code, then go to my Author Spotlight to buy copies of Poetry from the Porch Period and Cautionary Fables (the latter is available in paperback or ebook formats). Your purchase will help feed my kids and help pay our bills! Cautionary Fables is also available via your local bookstore. I'm in the process of wrapping up the distribution on Poetry and hope to have an announcement about its availability soon!

Finished Works:

• Full Moon Poetry, urban fantasy, 14,100 words ~ in editing ~ needs formatted ~ two markets in mind
• Trouble and Captain Jack, steampunk, 8,600 words, edited, formatted, for an anthology
• Ghost Dance, urban fantasy, 5,500 words, edited, needs to be prepared for submission, have market in mind
• The Hollow Man, fantasy noir, 4,600 words, submitted 6/14/2012
• The Sky Galleons of Mediolanum, Renaissance-Era Macedonian Empire steampunk, 4,400 words, submitted 7/27/2012
• Of the Leaves and of the Waves, urban fantasy, 4,100 words, edited, needs to be prepared for submission, have market in mind
• A Rose for Princess, fairy talish fantasy, 3,800 words, submitted 8/1/2012
• Never Ever After, myth/fantasy, 3,100 words, in editing, have market in mind
• Empress Awakened, classic fantasy, 1,400 words, need to resubmit

In Progress:

• Kryptos, Renaissance-Era Macedonian Empire steampunk novel, 53,700 words out of maybe 120,000 (mostly notes)
• L'Abattoir, pirate steampunk novella, 15,900 words out of maybe 60,000
• The Ellyssian Tarot, tarot deck and book, 13,000 words out of maybe 120,000 (mostly notes)
• The Gauntlet, fantasy novel, 5,500 words out of maybe 120,000
• Mad Max, steampunk, 3,100 words out of ?
• Changeling, werewolf, 1,300 words out of ?
• The Last Great Battle, classic fantasy, 1,200 words out of ?
• green man, urban fantasy, 900 words out of 5000 max, for an anthology
• green tracks, urban fantasy, 100 words out of ?

Wow. Completely remiss, I think.

I do believe I've forgotten to announce Poetry from the Porch Period here.

At the moment, the only place you can get it is online at the publisher, Lulu. As soon as possible, I will get the distribution in order, and at that time you'll be able to get it from any bookseller, including Amazon.com.

Empress Awakened was rejected from its first market, and now I need to get it on to the next. Getting Ghost Dance, Of the Leaves and of the Waves, and Never Ever After ready to go to a nice market ~ and I have a few in mind if that doesn't pan out (I would not expect the market to take more than one of the three at most, so at least two are almost guaranteed to go elsewhere). Wrote six hundred words on The Sky Galleons of Mediolanum, got it through two editors, and it's off to win a place in its anthology. A Rose for Princess was chopped down in size after some great editing, and is now much improved and submitted to a market. Three hundred words were written on Mad Max, and I really need to get some more on that story.

There's been a lot of work on Green Man Envy ~ I've made some adjustments to the old articles on the blog to stop offering services, and I added a new article. There's also another poem of mine and some art by Edward Foster. Go check it out, follow the blog, like GME on Facebook, all that sort of stuff that will help grow GME into a healthy, functioning community! =)

Finished Works:

• Full Moon Poetry, urban fantasy, 14,100 words ~ in editing ~ needs formatted ~ two markets in mind
• Ghost Dance, urban fantasy, 5,500 words, in editing, need 1 editor, have market in mind
• The Hollow Man, fantasy noir, 4,600 words, submitted 6/14/2012
• The Sky Galleons of Mediolanum, Renaissance-Era Macedonian Empire steampunk, 4,400 words, submitted 7/27/2012
• Of the Leaves and of the Waves, urban fantasy, 4,100 words, in editing, need 1 editor, have market in mind
• A Rose for Princess, fairy talish fantasy, 3,800 words, submitted 8/1/2012
• Never Ever After, myth/fantasy, 3,100 words, in editing, have market in mind
• Empress Awakened, classic fantasy, 1,400 words, submitted on 7/6/2012; rejected 7/29/2012
• fey, fantasy poem, 51 lines, submitted 7/12/2012; rejected 7/20/2012

In Progress:

• Kryptos, Renaissance-Era Macedonian Empire steampunk novel, 53,700 words out of maybe 120,000 (mostly notes)
• L'Abattoir, pirate steampunk novella, 15,900 words out of maybe 60,000
• The Ellyssian Tarot, tarot deck and book, 13,000 words out of maybe 120,000 (mostly notes)
• The Gauntlet, fantasy novel, 5,500 words out of maybe 120,000
• Mad Max, post apocalypse steampunk, 2,800 words out of 3,000 to 10,000, possibly for an anthology
• Changeling, werewolf, 1,300 words out of ?
• The Last Great Battle, classic fantasy, 1,200 words out of ?
• green man, urban fantasy, 900 words out of 5000 max, for an anthology
• green tracks, urban fantasy, 100 words out of ?

That's right, I'm using the Green Man icon again!

I'm back, and better than ever and...

Anywho.

Green Man Enviroscaping LLC is still shut down, but the web domain that bore it's (abbreviated) name, greenmanenvy.com, and the associated blog on Blogger and page on Facebook have now been repurposed as "Green Man Envy: Natural News and Mythical Meanderings".

I've got a few posts on the blog (which really drives the site and the page at this time, if not in perpetuity) that reflect the new direction. The old company related content is going to remain there ~ some of it, like the articles and PSAs, are going to continue being featured. The site will mix that sort of home landscape and nature articles with some fiction, poetry, and art.

Although it might take me awhile to get it up and running, I'd like to offer content from others on the site... maybe someday to even make it a viable market (i.e. where writers get paid). But right now, it's just a blog...

Anywho, an RSS feed is available for those so inclined (that's how the content gets from the blog to the site), and I'd like to encourage everyone (on Facebook) to like the page, and those who use Blogger to follow it there, and so on and so forth.