Flights of Fantasy: Grounded in Reality

At a book event in the summer, I was asked who I would most like to meet. I think my audience expected me to say J. R, R. Tolkien, Terry Brooks, or any one of a dozen fantasy authors that I look up to in awe. I admitted I would like to meet them all, but if I only have one choice, I would not choose an epic fantasy author.

If I could meet only one person from my Heroes/Heroines list, it would be Malala Yousafzai. I wrote a blog post a while back about her – She is Malala and I am Crying – so I will not write here why she is such an amazing woman. I have the honor of serving and meeting incredibly brave people who risk everything for a better world. There are also people in positions of privilege who leverage their resources to create a better world – I would love to meet Melinda and Bill Gates or Warren Buffet, for example.

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We as fantasy readers and authors have the privilege to live in two worlds, the real and the world created by the author we are reading, or the world we have built as authors. As fun as the latter is, we have an obligation not to ignore the former.

A reader told me last month how much she enjoyed my social justice themed novels: The Accidental Activist and Unwanted Heroes. She said that perhaps in this political environment, I should be focusing on that genre rather than my elves and dwarves.

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I know this person and am sure she did not intend to rebuke me, but it did strike a cord. I work in the human rights environment and writing fantasy has offered a balance to the intensity of the day job that consumes so much of my waking hours. Even if the six-figure book deal and movie rights landed in my lap tomorrow, I do not think I would want to turn my back on the inspirational grantee-partners I advocate for every day.

It is a tough balance to maintain, but I think we all need to find it or we risk getting burnt out. I hope we all find a way to make this a better world for ourselves, our children and all people in the world. But to maintain momentum, we each need our escape: family, walking the dog, a good book, TV, the gym.

Many  find it in the company of elves and dwarves, It was intentional that I included issues of power, gender and racial discrimination, addiction, violence and other issues, that are sprinkled throughout the Wycaan Master series. I was writing these books for my sons as they grew into young men and always wanted them aware of a society’s flaws.

Summer 2015 Reading Book 6

Reading Book 6 in the summer of 2015. End of an era.

I do not feel I need to explain why I write fantasy in this troubled world, though this blog post is evidence that apparently I do. I feel comfortable with a foot in each world, balancing myself to deal with the challenges and uncertainties of two precarious worlds.

I wish you good balance too.

Alon / elfwriter

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Alon Shalev is the author of the 2013 Eric Hoffer YA Book Award winner, At The Walls of Galbrieth, and five other Wycaan Master books all released by Tourmaline Books. The link above takes you to the Kindle versions. For all other eReaders, please click here.

More at http://www.alonshalev.com and on Twitter (@elfwriter).

Download a FREE copy of Alon’s latest novel, Kingfisher: Slave to Honor, as publisher gauges interest – http://bit.ly/2sq72DG. Help secure a book contract by reading and leaving a review. 

 

 

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A Painful Letter to Those Who Download Pirated Novels

Dear Fans,

Yes, it seems strange to open such a letter with this salutation, but I can only conclude that if you are tempted to illegally download one of my books for free from any of an alarming number of websites now offering such a dishonorable service, then you must enjoy my novels.

I’m going to divide you into one of two groups. Please bear with me.

  • If you truly cannot afford the $2.99 for most of my novels, then please go ahead. While volunteering at (I think) Project Homeless Connect, I talked with a boy (I think he was 11 or 12 years old) who said he loved that the service offered books to take, but he wished there was more about elves and dwarves. I went and gave him a copy of At The Walls Of Galbrieth and would have given him the whole series if I had brought copies in my backpack. My then 8-year-old once begged me to give a homeless man (a poet we discovered) a copy of The Accidental Activist, after they had a wonderful conversation and the man had told him how much he enjoyed reading and writing.

 

  • If you can afford to buy my books, and I believe most of you can, I am not going to lecture you. I just want you to know that I poured years into each book, that I drove myself to write the highest quality possible, relentlessly edited and nurtured each book into existence. Just because someone is offering you something for free, doesn’t mean you should take it. That goes for music, movies and novels. Like so many artists, I am not wealthy. I am Mr. Average-American who works hard to put food on his family’s table and wonder if he will ever be able to retire. I am probably no different from you.

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So next time you see the advert for a free copy of someone’s novel, please take a moment to consider before you click and download. Go to Amazon or Barnes and Noble, Apple (ibooks), Smashwords, or wherever you purchase a novel and consider the 99c – $2.99 that will show respect for those who toiled to produce that work, those who keep producing the stories you enjoy.

And if you have already illegally downloaded a copy of one of my books and feel bad – I FORGIVE YOU. Perhaps consider buying a copy and gifting it to someone, whether it is one of my political novels to a disillusioned non-Trump supporter, or a young adult who loves a coming-of-age novel and would benefit from seeing the strength of true friendship.

Please reblog or send this post on to others to raise awareness of this issue. It is not as important as helping those who have suffered from earthquakes, fire, or ethnic cleansing, but it is another wrong that we can right.

Thank you,

Alon / elfwriter

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Alon Shalev is the author of the 2013 Eric Hoffer YA Book Award winner, At The Walls of Galbrieth and five other novels in the Wycaan Master series, all released by Tourmaline Books. More information about Alon and his novels can be found here.

Download a free copy (offered with author’s consent!) of Alon’s new medieval fantasy novel as a publisher gauges interest and reader feedback.

 

 

 

Kingfisher – Chapter 1

Below is the opening chapter to Kingfisher: Slave to Honor. If it grabs you, please download a FREE copy from Inkitt Publishers and read. Then do me a favor and leave an honest review. You are helping Inkitt decide if they want to invest in my novel and I thank you for helping.

Please note there is profanity in this chapter. It is meant for adult consumption. 

Alon

Kingfisher Cover

 

Chapter 1

I have unleashed thousands of arrows on the battlefield and in training, but never shot from the swaying deck of a ship. My heavy ash bow creaks in anticipation as I draw back the bowstring. Peering along the arrow’s shaft, the feathered fletching grazing my cheek, I wait to see the whites of the pirates’ eyes. My target is a huge brute of a man waving a curved cutlass and braying for his ship to get close enough to our small stout Argosy trading vessel. I steady my feet. He must never board this ship.

 

“Blessed Lir. They be twice our crew in number,” a man wheezes next to me.

 

There are few fighters among this crew. Most are simple, warm-hearted sailors, and I have become attached to them as we cross the sea to the land of Cassia.

 

“Hold steady,” I say. “They won’t be as many when we cross blades.”

 

“Archers!” cries the captain, her speckled snowy-grey hair similar in color to the sails billowing above us, and her sun-dried skin a testimony to a life spent at sea. “Let the Easterner shoot first. Wait for my order.” Leaning close to my ear, she whispers. “A true aim will buoy my crew’s fragile morale.”

 

I nod. I have selected a dozen targets. “Let them hold their fire until I empty my quiver.”

 

“You won’t have long, my friend.”

 

“I don’t need…”

 

My bowstring sings as I release my first arrow. I do not wait to see the man collapse. Already a second arrow is nocked and released, and my mind enters a realm of detached clarity.

 

The pirate captain barks as he sees me. “The black bastard! Take him do–oooow!”

 

His voice ends in an abrupt squeal as my arrow pierces his throat and our crew cheers. My quiver is empty and the enemy pared down by twelve. I am irritated. I had fourteen arrows.

 

“Now,” I say.

 

“Fire!” the captain roars and a volley of black arrows arches up towards the sleek pirate ship.

 

After several volleys, there is a pregnant lull as the distance between the ships closes. Then the captain unsheathes a stout sword. “Prepare to be boarded. Follow The Six.”

 

The Six are huge men who serve as her loyal, permanent crew. They are all strong and bawdy, and completely devoted to her. I suspected at first that they were the reason why no drafted sailor questioned a woman being captain. But I was being disingenuous. She exudes respect, walking the deck with ease, commanding her crew with a stern, but fair hand. I hold her in high regard.

 

The cabin boy hovers near me and I smell piss. His eyes are wide and his face drips with beady sweat. “It’ll be okay,” I say, the father in me rising, and I pass him my bow and quiver. “Stay below. You have no place in this fight.”

 

He glances at the captain. She nods, but the tilt of her head suggests she does not appreciate someone else giving orders on her ship. I apologize. Taking charge is a deeply ingrained habit for I have led armies and ruled a country under my emperor, my Sun-Above-The-Mountains. But that life is long behind me and I must focus on the fight at hand.

 

There won’t be room to swing a broadsword on this small, and soon to be, chaotic deck. I draw my curved dirk, Throatslitter, embracing the cold ivory hilt. I carry many weapons but this is my favorite and most used. In my other hand is my battle sickle, sharp and hissing with anticipation as I flick it.

 

I see The Six spread across the starboard side of the ship. They appear calm while the men around them drip sweat. I study the pirate ship now looming before us, and plant my feet directly opposite where their crew is extending a gangplank. Our sailors move aside, most relieved to let me through.

 

The boats thud together and there is a cry from the other side. Someone has taken command, as half a dozen men throw grappling irons with ropes and swing across. A pirate scrambles along the gangplank, screaming an indistinguishable war cry. It stops abruptly as he blinks and stares up at me blocking his path to glory and plunder.

 

“Long way from home, yeh black devil,” he shouts, trying to sound defiant, but I detect a quiver in his voice. “Come all this way fer one final swim?”

 

I stare back, trying for impassive, and he blinks several times. Everyone watches as he swings his sword in a skewed arc, and I brush it aside with Throatslitter before detaching his neck with my sickle. His head rolls down and I hear it plop into the ocean. Blood fountains from his severed neck but, curiously, his body remains erect. I raise my right leg in a side swing kick and send it crashing down. As my foot returns to the narrow plank, I step forward … and the battle mist descends.

 

It is always this way. Once the fighting commences, my mind detaches. My movements are deeply ingrained from decades of relentless training and I need only focus on the techniques of my adversary.

 

I plow my way through a morass of fighting men, barely distinguishing friend from foe. But most of the pirates have boarded our ship and I return to fight aboard the Argosy. Then two members of The Six flank me and we become an organized wedge swelled by a grateful crew. The remaining pirates retreat to their ship and our men swarm across. I follow, but my battle fury has subsided and my interest is only to minimalize casualties on our side. Blood congeals on my clothes and skin. Not mine, I think, but cannot be sure.

 

I have seen the revenge meted upon the vanquished aggressors in countless battles. Men once cowering lash out at their routed attackers with extreme violence. Bones are broken, limbs slashed, and I turn from the carnage. Bodies are thrown overboard. Only the cook is spared and roughly dragged back to our ship. He had better not burn any food.

 

I lean against the railing near the pirate ship’s bow hearing the occasional clash of steel mingle with curses and pleas that gradually subside. The sun is high in the sky and, as I wipe my face on my sleeve, I sense danger. Turning, I see the contorted face of the first man I had shot, the one who had brayed for blood. His huge figure looms over me. The broken shaft of my arrow still protrudes from his shoulder and there is blood around his lips. He holds the other half of the arrow, waving the splintered edge in my face.

 

“Want your fucking arrow back? So sorry I broke it.” When I do not reply, he continues. “Thought one little needle would prick Big Rufus? Snapped it. Now I’m gonna snap your neck, you black devil.”

 

He begins to lunge, but stops when I do not raise my weapons.

 

“It’s over. You lost,” I say, keeping my voice flat. “There’s no one left fighting. Why die needlessly?”

 

He freezes. I suspect few are equal to him in physical stature and even fewer address him without fear.

 

“I’m not worried about dying. Pirating doesn’t offer itself as a long-term profession.”

 

I frown at his use of vocabulary. “You’re an educated man. I can hear it. Why are you doing this?”

 

He stares at me and one eye twitches. “There comes a point, black man, when you kill enough men, take enough women, that–”

 

“Who were you before this? What happened to you?”

The twitching increases and his chest heaves. He is losing control. “I was once an ambitious officer in a huge fucking army, following orders that haunt me every night. I–”

 

“We’ve walked the same path,” I say, now standing to face him. “It doesn’t need to end like this. We–”

 

“It ends this way! It always does.” Spittle foams at the corners of his mouth. “You can’t escape what ­–” He is staring at my eyes, through them, like he has a window into my head. “You’re haunted too. How do you keep…going?”

 

I glance around noting our crew standing and staring. This is absurd as no one moves to intervene. “I have people to live for. I still have a mission.”

 

“A woman?” He wipes spittle from his mouth with his torn sleeve. “She’s probably fucking some other bastard by now.”

 

“She’s dead. But we have sons and they are slaves. I must find and free them.”

 

He nods. “Yeah, makes sense.” Then there is a wave of relentless twitching and his shaggy head shudders. “Fuck ’em though. Fuck ’em all. You die now.”

 

“You don’t sound like you mean it. You want me to kill you.”

 

“I don’t fucking care either way. Look what I’ve become. It’s all that’s left.”

 

He raises a short-shafted axe and the sun catches it. I spin away and my battle sickle rises to block him. I would like to draw my sword to fight such a strong man, but it is long and I know that Throatslitter and the sickle are more effective in close quarters.

 

He advances and shows considerable agility for his size and the fact he is wounded, wielding the axe from hand to hand. When he sees I can repel him, he draws a second axe. I realize we have moved to the center of the ship and men from our crew make way, watching. It is surreal. No one grabs him or shoots him with an arrow. It feels like a final rite.

 

“Last chance,” I say. “It doesn’t have to end like­–”

 

“FUCK YOU!” he screams. “Fuck you for not being devoured, for not giving in, for surviving.”

 

His next swing, with his right hand, is erratic and instead of blocking him with my left, I shift inside and duck, letting the battle sickle in my right hand grab the axe allowing his own momentum to unbalance him. He staggers and I swing a round kick that sends him flying into the ropes that surround the edge of the ship. He doubles over and grunts. Then the tension from his weight on the ropes springs him back toward me. I crouch, the tip of my knife on the wooden deck, and then, with a cry, jump into the air. Throatslitter slashes up under his chin. Bright red blood spurts up to ignite in the harsh sunlight. He twists round and collapses back onto the rope.

 

I step forward and grab his matted hair, wrenching his head up to look at me. His nose is bloody and broken, and his eyes bulge.

 

“Fuck you,” he says, his voice a whisper, and I nod, accepting it as a sign of respect.

 

“Find peace,” I say as I crouch and link my left foot around both his legs. As I rise, I flick him over the side of the boat and watch his body hit the water and disappear.

 

The men cheer, but I have no enthusiasm for the victory. That man could one day be me. One day very soon.

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Alon Shalev is the author of the 2013 Eric Hoffer YA Book Award winner, At The Walls Of Galbrieth, and five other Wycaan Master books all released by Tourmaline Books. The link above takes you to the Kindle versions. For all other eReaders, please click here.

Download a #FREE copy of Alon’s latest novel, Kingfisher: Slave to Honor, as publisher gauges interest – http://bit.ly/2sq72DG

 Kingfisher Cover

Summer Reading Binge – August Only!

It’s that time of year again: Tourmaline Books has reduced the entire Wycaan Master series to just $0.99 for each book throughout August.

This a great time to introduce a young person to Seanchai and his friends. I wrote these books for my sons who were 11 and 8 when the first came out. They were 16 and 13 when the final book was published.

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This is how it all began – deep in a redwood forest in 2011.

Summer 2015 Reading Book 6

Reading Book 6 in the summer of 2015. End of an era.

While At The Walls Of Galbrieth won the Young Adult category of the Eric Hoffer Book Award, I am not sure what proportion of readers are in the 11-18 age range. Perhaps they are less likely to interact with an author on social media. Still, I am delighted every time I hear of a teen who has enjoyed the series.

Please click on the book cover to buy your 99c copy of each book and, if I might request, please leave a review on Amazon when you finish. It’s a huge help for me.

Thank you for your support. Enjoy the summer.
Alon

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The New Publishing Model

Last week, I requested that you download a FREE copy  of my latest novel. First, a big Thank You to those who did and, if you have not yet, please consider doing so. 

Kingfisher: Slave To Honor – Free Novel by Alon Shalev

Given that many of my audience read Young Adult material, I should have pointed out that this was definitely written for adults. I apologize to those who were offended and thank you for reaching out and sharing in such a constructive way.

I have also received questions about why this company and how they work. Inkitt, the publishing house, does not work like a traditional publishing house. The staff are young tech people, who are not looking for a story that resonates with a particular staff member, rather they judge a book’s potential using a complex set of algorithms.

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They are interested in how long it takes to download a book, how quickly you start to read it, how far you get, and what review you give. They ask questions about what price you would be willing to pay and other analytics that I am unaware of.  

As the author, I have my own analytics page, where they show me  much of what I mention above. I can see how many chapters have being read, how many copies are downloaded, and the reviews are public. I have a bar which shows the progress in terms of data they have collected that will enable them to make a decision. I am about one-third of the way there (so please feel free to help – download, read, review).

I find the process fascinating. In the 15 years that I have been writing, I have reached out to agents, imagined the groaning “slush pile” table in a New York office (I know it is mainly electronic now and hear the trees sigh with relief). I imagine agents and publishers dining in Manhattan over power lunches, and so much more.

'Oh yes we're very proud of him. He's in publishing you know!'

While this might be the romance of the industry that agents and publishers want to perpetuate, I suspect the reality is closer to what Inkitt is doing. There are sharp business people poring over industry projections and statistics, who truly make the decision, and it is not because they fell in love with the novel’s protagonist.  

The publishing industry has been forced by the change in market to hunker down and avoid risk. Their behaviors, I suspect, are more akin to other profit-driven companies, and they use the emerging technologies to help them make strong decisions.

In a sense, this is what new companies like Inkitt are doing, the difference being that as part of the generation who grew up in the technology age, they see no shame in embracing it publicly. 

It will be interesting to see how it plays out. Thank you, as always for your support, Please help me stay in the game – download, read, and review.

Thank you,

Alon

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ALON SHALEV
At The Walls Of Galbrieth, Wycaan Master Book 1, 2013 Eric Hoffer Book Award Winner – YA Category.

Learn more about the Wycaan Master series at http://www.alonshalev.com/

A Birthday Wish

Dear Friends,

Today is my birthday. I guess we still celebrate in our 50’s, right? My birthday didn’t stop me firing up the computer and Keurig at 7.30am and getting in some writing at the quietest part of my day. Guess it’s in my DNA. 

I’m a lucky man. Blessed with a wonderful family, an inspiring job and (healing knee aside) good health. But, if you have a few minutes to to give me a gift, and it’s your time not money I want, here is how you can help me get the publishing contract I am chasing. 

As you know, Inkitt, a publisher, has taken an interest in my latest manuscript – an edgy magical realism novel. They are offering free downloadable copies and I request that you take a minute to click into the website and download a copy today.

Kingfisher: Slave To Honor – Free Novel by Alon Shalev

They have a complex set of algorithms that will help them decide whether to sign me which includes how it takes you to read the novel and they measure what pages you are on. If you get through the book, then a review is critical. Please be honest – I never want someone to write something they don’t believe.

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Thank you for your support. This is a very exciting opportunity for me and a publishing contract would make a mighty fine birthday gift!

The idea of helping struggling artists resonate more these days, so if you still have a bit of time, please help another author realize his/her dreams:

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Thank you, as always for your support,

Alon

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ALON SHALEV
At The Walls Of Galbrieth, Wycaan Master Book 1, 2013 Eric Hoffer Book Award Winner – YA Category.

Learn more about the Wycaan Master series at http://www.alonshalev.com/

100 Free Copies of Elfwriter’s New Novel

Dear Friends,

Inkitt, a publisher, has taken an interest in my latest manuscript an edgy magical realism novel. They are offering 100 free downloadable copies and I request that you take a minute to click into the website and download a copy today.

They have a complex set of algorithms that will help them decide whether to sign me which includes how long it takes to move the 100 copies. In order to make this happen quickly, please share with friends and colleagues, especially people who enjoy magical realism.

Kingfisher: Slave To Honor – Free Novel by Alon Shalev

Thank you for your support. This is a very exciting opportunity for me.

Alon

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ALON SHALEV
At The Walls Of Galbrieth, Wycaan Master Book 1, 2013 Eric Hoffer Book Award Winner – YA Category.

Learn more about the Wycaan Master series at http://www.alonshalev.com/