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What’s Book 3 about?

20 Oct

The Hall of the ProphetessThis evening I finished my final read-through of Book 3, The Hall of the Prophetess.

What’s this mean? Well, only a few steps remain to publish the book, so everything is on track for the book to be released Nov. 18. But what’s the book about? Well, here’s what the book’s back cover says:

By now, Karia should be used to finding out that everything she thought she knew was wrong.

Girls can’t do magic? Wrong. Faeries aren’t real? Wrong. No such thing as redbears? Wrong again.

So it shouldn’t surprise her – but it does – when her enemies treat her as if she is an honored guest. And she ought to have realized her quest to destroy magic would be nowhere near as straightforward as she thought.

Maybe she should even have expected a bloody confrontation, and new friends who are willing to die for her because of her forgiving, gentle spirit.

But nothing could have prepared her for what is being withheld from her.

Of course, before you get The Hall of the Prophetess, you’ll need to buy and read If you haven’t yet) The House in the Old Wood (Book 1) and Karia’s Path (Book 2)

Preview of Book 3

18 Oct

Karia’s Path includes the first chapter of The Hall of the Prophetess, so people can get a feel for what comes next. And so here it is, so you can get a feel for it too:

CHAPTER ONE

The high-strung mare whinnied and pranced, her hooves clattering, as she slipped on the snow-covered ice of the frozen river. She tugged on the line Karia was using to lead her. Karia’s hands were so numb she almost lost her grip on it.

“Shh, Tsilinki,” she said. “Easy girl.” Her heart raced. She slipped a bit too as she stepped back to put a hand on the horse’s shoulder to calm her.

She heard a sharp crack behind them and looked nervously down the line from Tsilinki to Nebok. The big draft horse was usually rock-solid and calm, but even he looked skittish now. Or maybe he just looks that way to me because I’m shaking.

Karia took a deep breath. “Steady, Nebok. Almost there, big boy,” she called to him. Oh, great, I’m squeaking. That’s not going to help calm him.

She turned back and stepped forward, placing her feet carefully to keep from slipping. She was just beyond the center of the river, with perhaps forty feet to go to the safety of the shore. She felt the line to Tsilinki tighten and then go slack again as the horse began walking with her.

She thought, Nebok should be stepping forward now. That’s when she heard another sharp crack, then a crash and deep snort from behind her. She spun in time to see Nebok falling through the ice. Spinning threw her off balance, but she had almost caught herself as she saw Nebok trying to leap back up onto the ice; it just broke in front of him.

But Nebok’s leap tugged on the line from him to Tsilinki, pulling the mare from behind. And Karia, trying to steady herself, tugged on the line she was using to lead the mare from the front. Pulled from both sides, Tsilinki whinnied and reared, pulling the line away from Karia, but not before disrupting her precarious balance.

Karia’s feet and hands flew toward Tsilinki, and her behind landed hard on the ice, knocking the wind out of her. She gasped as she tried to take a breath in that tiny pause between when she hit the ice and the time it cracked, then shattered, and she smashed through. The current under the ice went up her cloak and it billowed into the icy water like a sail.

She grabbed in vain at the edge of the ice, but could not even slow herself as she was sucked through the hole into the frigid river below. She gasped for breath again, but got only water as the current swept her under the snow-covered icy surface of the river.

Want to read more? Soon. In the meantime, make sure you have The House in the Old Wood and Karia’s Path

The language of magic, part 4 of lots

17 Oct

Inamali is the language of magic – the language of the Inamali people and their writings, including their spell books. It is the language Karia must master if she is to understand how to destroy magic.

And I thought you may enjoy the books a lot more if you understand a few things about the Inamali language.

Spoiler alert: If you have not read The House in the Old Wood, you will not want to read the rest of this post.

Real languages have variations and irregularities.

You don’t have to look past English to see that. Look at how many different ways we spell words. The one I love? Phonetic – spelled with a ph. Really?

So to make Inamali more realistic, I inserted a few things don’t seem to make much sense, two of which the astute reader will have noticed in The House in the Old Wood.

One has to do with the way the syllable na is pronounced. Karia notes that sometimes it can be pronounced as “nar.” Why? There’s not a solid reason, but I based the variation on something my daughter Meghan encountered in China. She learned some Mandarin in Beijing, and as soon as she tried to use in Inner Mongolia (which is also part of China and where Mandarin is also the most common language), people would say, “Oh, you’re from Beijing.” They knew that because some words pronounced with “ah” sounds elsewhere were pronounced as “ar” in Beijing.

So in Inamali, in some words at least, na is prounounced nar.

Wait a minute, however, you say. You remember that I said Inamali syllables are all open – that is, they all end in vowels. So how can nar be a legitimate syllable in Inamali if there are no closed syllables in the language – no syllables that end in consonants?

That’s easy. R isn’t a consonant.

Huh?

Phonetically speaking, a vowel is a sound formed when the breath is modified to make a sound, and a consonant is the sound formed when the breath is partially or completely blocked to make a sound.

But where do you draw the line between modifying the breath and partially obstructing it?

It’s somewhere around W, Y and R. This is why these are sometimes referred to as semi-vowels. (That would be the American English R, by the way. Not the flapped or trilled R of other languages, nor the softer R of British English.)

So nar is not a closed syllable; it does not end with a consonant, but with a semi-vowel.

Now that all that is clear as mud, let’s look at the other thing Karia notices in The House in the Old Wood: the word tsilinki. Karia notes that this is the only place she’s come across where li is pronounced “lin.” Actually, she’s wrong. There are no closed syllables in Inamali – no syllables that end in consonants. Li is pronounced “li” in that word; the variation comes in ki. In this word, it’s pronounced “ngki.”

Oh, that clears everything up, right?

Try saying it with me. Most people, when they see, “linki,” would not pronounce it “lin-ki,” but “ling-ki.” But in a language with only open syllables, it would be written – and thought of – as “li-ngki.”

But why?

Who knows? That’s what remainders in linguistics are all about: stuff that doesn’t seem to make sense.

By the way, “ng” is one of those fascinating consonants – and phonetically, it is one consonant – that we use all the time in English but struggle with when we see it in other languages. We just never use it at the beginning of a word, like other languages sometimes do. (Others are flapped Rs and glottal stops, both of which are actually quite common in English.)

Next time, we’ll look at something supremely confusing …

The language of magic, part 3 of lots

7 Oct

Inamali is the language of magic – the language of the Inamali people and their writings, including their spell books. It is the language Karia must master if she is to understand how to destroy magic.

And I thought you may enjoy the books a lot more if you understand a few things about the Inamali language.

Spoiler alert: If you have not read The House in the Old Wood, you will not want to read the rest of this post.

OK, English speaker, whose language is written with an alphabet. What’s the relationship between the following syllables: a, ka, ma, sa, va?

They all have the same vowel, right?

Well done.

But what’s the relationship between the following symbols?

a, ka, ma, sa, va

Those are a, ka, ma, sa and va in Inamali. And someone who spoke Inamali would see no more relationship between them than you see in the symbols.

An Inamali speaker is not thinking in terms of the sounds individual letters make, because their language has no individual letters. They’re not thinking, “Oh, those all end in ‘a,’” because a is a distinct and different syllable from ka.

But knowing that, if you were to peruse an Inamali syllabary, you would see something strange. Some of the symbols for syllables with the same vowel are similar.

For instance, here are a, la, ra and sha:

a, la, ra, sha

Why the similarities?

Inamali arose among people who spoke and wrote the language commonly known as Teneka – the language of all people, based on the language of Nymph, written with an alphabet. Inamali is based on the language of Sylph.

It bears similarities to Analiki, which was the previous language of magic, and also arose among people who spoke and read Teneka and also is based on the language of Sylph.

So the influence of an alphabet shows up in both Analiki and Inamali.

Next we’ll look at the stuff that really doesn’t make sense.

Good reviews needed

5 Oct

Now that Book 2, Karia’s Path, is out, it’s in need of good reviews.

Whoops, let me clarify. I don’t mean I’m asking for five-star raving reviews. Those are nice, but even a critical one-star review can be a good review.

A good review is useful, pertinent and honest.

A useful review gives potential buyers information that helps them evaluate whether this is or is not a good purchase for them.

So you might compare and contrast the book with similar books in the genre, or with the first book, The House in the Old Wood. You could tell them what you liked or didn’t like (without spoilers, please). You may wish to mention whether you found it engrossing or captivating; whether you learned anything; how it made you feel; and if you plan to keep reading the series.

A pertinent review pertains to the book in question. A review of Karia’s Path shouldn’t dwell on The House in the Old Wood, though you might mention it since they’re in the same series. It shouldn’t be a personal statement about the author, such as “He’s a really nice guy” or “Never trust an author with a beard.”

But it could be about the packaging. If your paperback had problems, or you thought the formatting for the Kindle was awesome, say so.

An honest review means just that. Tell the truth. No one is served by an overly glowing review. And a deliberately and dishonestly nasty review is just, well, nasty. Say what you mean. You don’t need to sugarcoat it.

Feel free to post a mixed review. I often find mixed reviews are the most helpful kind, because they give me the opportunity to decide based on how important the factors cited are to me.

And thank you. Thank you for reading the books, and an extra thanks to those who post reviews.

Don’t have Karia’s Path yet? Get it!