How Often Should One Post On Their Blog?

I've been making a point of being more active on the interwebs once I became a "professional" writer. I make sure to post a special "Wisdom of Ophelia" once a week on Twitter (and then Facebook and Tumblr) and share post that I like with my audience and audience in potentia.

While doing all this, I realized that I haven't actually posted anything here on my blog in a couple of months!

I didn't mean to ignore the blog.  I guess I just haven't had anything to say that wasn't around the size of a tweet or a picture that I have drawn.  I know that you can post pictures here but it doesn't seem, well, appropriate to just have pictures here.

I always thought of a blog as a place that you share ideas in a more detailed way.  Now, I'm before I get into this next portion of my tirade, let me preface it by saying that I'm not saying that other blogs do what I am about to describe en masse.  I'm not one for whining or reading a long rant about problems that aren't really problems but are because they make the writer annoyed and/or upset.  Nor am I one who thinks that I have all the answers in regards to the problems in and of this world.

With all that being said.  I wonder what a blog should talk about.  I think the most opinionated post I have here is my defense of the video game Metroid: Other M.  While I enjoy playing video games, I don't think most anyone would really care about my current game of the month.

Or maybe you do.  Perhaps you take the opinion of other gamers over that of critics who seem to be bought a paid for by those they are supposed to be reviewing in an unbiased manner.  But then, video games aren't something I devote 100% of my time to, either.  I mean, I do have to take time to eat and write my books, short stories and draw some pictures, right?

So this blog can go all over the place when it comes to subject matter.  That still begs the question of how often should one post before a blog becomes derelict?

Story Excerpt (Star Wars Edition)

Are you a Star Wars fan? So am I! 

I am such a big fan, in fact, that I write a serial for another Facebook page called The Star Wars Bash. (Feel free to check it out here:https://www.facebook.com/starwarsbash/)

In a belated celebration of George Lucas’ birthday, I wanted to share part of the first story that I’m proud of in that galaxy far, far away that he created. 

So here is an excerpt from the first episode of the first serial.

Anyway… Enjoy!

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Excerpt from Ryotan is Only the Beginning, Episode One:

“Why do you keep such a neurotic droid around?” The woman asked out of genuine curiosity rather than any malevolence toward T-23. “He doesn’t seem to match your personality at all.”

The pilot laughed outright at that. “You know how many short circuits or malfunctions my ship has had since I got him? None. T-23 cares about the Icarus and doesn’t stop checking up on her.”

“Almost like he has a little crush?” Terra grinned.

“Oh, no.” Aryl leaned back in his seat again. “I think it’s outright infatuation.”

Neither spoke for a short while, each enjoying the silence together before Terra finally sighed. “I can’t wait to get back to Coruscant.”

The pilot arched an eyebrow over at the Jedi Knight. “T-23 is annoying you that much?”

“No.” The twi’lek straightened in her seat. “When I get back, I’m getting my first Padawan apprentice. He’s the same species as Master Yoda.”

“Understandable.” Aryl turned for a moment to press a few buttons. “I’m anxious to get back myself.”

“Why’s that?”

“Queen Amidala is getting sworn in as a Senator soon. What Noobian would want to miss that?” Aryl smiled.

Terra smiled back, relaxing into her chair. While the pilot had been living on Coruscant for years, at least according to his records, he still had a sense of pride in his place of birth, the planet Naboo.

Terra herself was born on Coruscant but, once she became a Padawan as a child, only returned rarely to the planet. Even then she spent most of her time in the Jedi Temple until it was time for her Master and herself to leave for their next assignment. She didn’t feel that same pride Aryl did, and wondered about that feeling of… connection.

The twi’lek watched the stars stream by in silence, stealing occasional looks over at Aryl, who busied himself with piloting the ship. Neither spoke, they didn’t feel the need.

Once, when she looked over at Aryl yet again, she caught him stealing a glance at her, just as she had been doing. She blushed, her cheeks turning a dark green, when the sheepish look on his face reminded the woman of what Aryl said to Gingi the engineer about twi’leks when she first hired their ship…

“Hey, Aryl! Can you hear me up there?” Gingi’s baritone voice popped over the comm.

With a flick of the switch, Aryl responded. “Yeah, I hear you Calamari-boy. What’s up?”

“Could one of you come back here and collect T-23?” Both Aryl and Terra had to stifle chuckles. “He’s messing with my engines again.”

Suddenly the ship lurched as if it had hit a wall! The human clamped his hands around the edge of the console to keep from being thrown into the cockpit’s viewing port. The Force kept the Jedi from reeling out of her seat, but only just. The momentum threw her head tails forward and back, giving her a slap on the cheek on their return.

“What happened back there, Gingi?” Aryl’s brow furrowed as looked over the instrument panel.

“I don’t know!” The Mon Calamari’s voice betrayed how uneasy he felt.

Terra glanced out at the stars as she rose from her seat… and they weren’t there. Outside the ship was only blackness, no points of light or any hint that they had even been there.

“I’m going back to see what I can do.” Terra hopped to her feet.
-

Want to find out what happens next? And, perhaps check out all three story arcs, you can find them here :
https://starwarsbash.wordpress.com/page/3/

#star wars#jedi#twi'lek#lightsaber#droid#scifi#action adventure

 

Postcards from Honua #3 (short excerpt from Ophelia and Lyan are Dead Meat)

Continuing my feature that shares bits and bobbins from my stories, I decided to showcase another part from my first novel (and currently only but the second is on its way!), Ophelia and Lyan are Dead Meat:

Skeletons weren't exactly known to have supernatural strength. Hopefully having nothing but sinew holding them together would make them more brittle and they could get through before the air power and behemoths could reach. Ophelia slashed for the neck of the nearest skeleton holding a torch and a longsword.

The undead creature's head flew from its shoulders and she started for the next. The first didn't fall, though, and chopped for the woman's neck much like she had to it.

Ophelia ducked under the strike. When she looked back up at the skeleton warrior, she saw the undead being place the flame from the torch in its hand at the base of its neck, as if it was going to light it like another torch.

It worked. The monster tossed the now extinguished length of wood to the ground and its skull was now replaced by what looked like a demon's head sculpted in fire! It reared back and shrieked its displeasure at Ophelia.

“Okay... panicking is looking like a better idea now.” She said before bringing Havarti down on the creature again.

---

Want to see what happens next? (Or what happened to lead up to that?) You can pick up Ophelia and Lyan are Dead Meat in paperback or ebook formats here:

http://bit.ly/1HYjNSH

‪#‎swordandsorcery‬ ‪#‎fantasy‬ ‪#‎mythicalcreatures‬ ‪#‎undead‬‪#‎strongfemalecharacters‬ ‪#‎writing‬ ‪#‎books‬ ‪#‎novels‬

Postcards from Honua #2: Girl Talk

I thought it would be fun to post another excerpt from one of my stories.  This one again stars Ophelia and Lyan Yo Bunpy (who are also the main characters of my novel Ophelia and Lyan are Dead Meat which is available here.) but is a completely different story.

If you came here via the link from my website, www.authorspencerstoner.com, you may have already read this short story, entitled Girl Talk (riiight?).  But for those of you who haven't (shame on you!  It's just a simple click on the previous sentence.  You can do it!), here's a little taste of the story that is exclusive to my site.  Please enjoy!

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Lyan looked as if she'd been asked some kind of riddle. Her brown eyes locked onto Ophelia as if she was trying to find some clue.

Then the Bunny Barbarian sighed and, sure that the answer she was about to give was wrong, she said, “You are an attractive woman.”

Ophelia nodded. “Thanks, the guys whose eyes make it to my face seem to think so, too. What about the ones who don't look at my face?”

“Don't look at your face?” Lyan muttered then came to a realization. “They keep looking at your chest. There is rarely much covering it.”

The barbarian pointed just where she mentioned. She looked proud of herself that she had figured out the answer to which the mercenary was trying to guide her.

Ophelia pointed right back at Lyan's chest. “Your top is covering even less and those are even bigger than mine.”

The Bunny Barbarian's face slowly turned insulted. Not at Ophelia, at least not directly, but at the memory of all the men who failed to make eye contact with her. She had taken it as a compliment previously, assuming they were simply in awe of a warrior of her reputation (word of the battle prowess of her tribe had spread wide, thanks in no small measure to her efforts over the years). Now, realizing that they only saw her as a piece of meat...

-

Not long but what postcard is?  You can find the rest on my new website and find other fun freebies there, too!

Why are you still here?  The post's over.

Go (check out some other posts while your here. :) )...

An Interview to Celebrate the Launch of my New Site!

Hi there! My name is Spencer Stoner. I'm the author of Ophelia and Lyan are Dead Meat. In celebration of the launch of my website, www.authorspencerstoner.com, I thought I would try something a little different. You know how, in interviews, the one asking the questions asks the writer things like “where do you find your inspiration?” or “do you have a system for picking names for characters?” (I do. Two, in fact, but that is another article).

Instead of that, I am going to interview the main characters of Dead Meat. That's right! We are going to get answers straight from the mouths of the actual participants of the story! Let's begin, shall we?

To set the stage, I'm in a simple room with the two ladies. The walls are mortared stone, there are several plants in each corner to make it a little more, well, cheery, I guess. Outside the window, the sky is gray but it doesn't look like its about to rain or anything.

As for Ophelia, she's sitting (or more like slouching) in her seat, resting her chin in her hand as she waits for me to speak. Lyan is sitting with nigh-impeccable posture, although she looks less eager to be there than her compatriot.

Spencer: “First, I really appreciate you taking the time to speak to me today, Ophelia and Lyan.”

Ophelia: “Of course. I just wish that you had provided some beer or something.”

Spencer: “Yeah, sorry about that but I don't drink. It didn't even occur to me to bring anything like that.”

Ophelia:  Sighs.

Lyan: “Do not be disgruntled, Ophelia. We will not linger here too long. We do have more important matters that require our attention.”

S: “Why are you in such a rush? I thought you had, you know, taken care of the problem already.”

O: “You really think that we only have one major problem at a time? That's a pretty simplistic way of thinking. What kind of writer are you?”

S: “Err... I guess you're right. Sorry again.”

Lyan: “So many apologies are a sign of weakness.”

S: “Sor- I'll try to remember that. Are we ready to start the interview proper?”

O: “Sure.”

L: “Very well.”

S: “The first question is for both of you. It's a pretty simple one. Who are you?”

O: “My name is Ophelia.”

L: “I am Lyan Yo Bunpy of the Yo Bunpy Tribe of Bunny Barbarians fairing from the Land of the Long Toothed Rabbit.”

(Note: Lyan's name is pronounced Lee-an, not like lion, as the spelling would imply. I know, it's weird but proper names seem to not have to follow the standard rules of pronunciation and spelling in the English language. Of course, we can always blame the one who translated it from the Honuan languages but that would be... rude.)

S: “No, that's not what I mean. I already know your names. What I want to know is who you are.”

O: “I thought you said this was a simple question.”

S: “It isn't?”

O: “Would you find it easy to answer a question like that?”

L: “Perhaps you do not realize that simple is not synonymous with easy.”

S: Sighs. “You're right. I'm so- sure you can give us a little, I don't know, a little overview of how you see yourself?”

O: “Yeah, sure. I'm a mercenary, a sword-for-hire. A pretty good one, too.”

S: “And you like fighting for the highest bidder rather than something you believe in?”

O: “I didn't say that. I don't just fight for the highest bidder. That's more of a prostitution frame of mind and I know you're not calling me a prostitute, are you?”

S: “No, no. Of course not.”

L: “Ophelia is a noble warrior who often fights alongside myself and my people. When it is just she and I, it is often not for money.”

S: “So what about you, Lyan? You've told us your lineage but not about you.”

L: “What more do you want to know?”

S: “More about you, not your people.”

L: “Very well.” Long pause. “I am one of very few female warriors among my tribe.”

O: “More like the only female warrior in your tribe.”

L: “You forget that my mother is a warrior.”

O: “She had to leave the tribe to do that.”

L: “But she is returned now.”

O: “I wouldn't call overnight visits with Corthek every fortnight returned, Lyan.”

L: “...Right.”

S: “Um... Corthek is your father, right?”

L: “Yes. But I thought that you wanted to know about me.”

S: “True. I just wanted to clarify for people reading this later. Let's move on and see if we can get back to answering a few questions. Ophelia, you're a mercenary who fights for who you want rather than who has the most money. But what is your ultimate goal in life?”

O: “Boy, you do ask all the easy questions, don't you?”

S: “To be honest, I'm using a guide to questions I should ask from another article I read.”

O: “Oookaaay... I can't say that I have an ultimate goal. I mostly just want to have a soft bed, a healthy dose of booze and maybe a warm body to go in the bed with at night.”

S: “Pretty simple if... morally ambivalent goals, I guess.”

O: “What do you mean by that?”

S: “I guess I'm kind of old fashioned. I'm kind of a type that's more into having a committed relationship. I'm not big on having a different partner every night.”

L: “Do you not feel that is rather judgmental?”

S: “I'm not saying it's bad. I'm just saying that it's not my philosophy when it comes to relationships.”

O: “It's not mine, either.”

Both Lyan and I look at Ophelia with surprised looks on our faces.

O: “I didn't say that I wanted a relationship with whatever warm body was in the bed with me. I'm not saying that I'm not open to having a relationship. I just haven't had one outside of the one I have with Lyan and a handful of other people.”

S: “You mean that you and Lyan have...”

O: “I didn't say that. I said that I have a relationship with her. Get your mind out of the gutter!”

L: “By that standard, I have not had a relationship in some while, myself.”

S: “Listen, I didn't mean to make this conversation devolve into a discussion of your sex lives. I'm just trying to give the readers a feel for who you both are as people.”

O: “Well, sex is part of being a person but I get your point.”

L: “As do I. As for my goals, my people believe that I am destined to destroy the Great Evil. Unfortunately, we have yet to uncover where it is hiding.”

O: “Scouting around for information is one of the contracts I take with regularity.”

S: “You take money from your friend's family to wander around and get information about something as ambiguous as a Great Evil?”

O: “A girl's gotta eat.”

L: “And we are willing to aid her as she had aided us in the past.”

S: “Point taken. Maybe now would be a good time to change the subject. If people were to read your life stories or, for instance, the story of the events of your recent encounter with the Lytyl Tribe and Perrett, what would you want them to know?”

L: “That was a fine battle. It had powerful ramifications throughout the countryside. It even created a new political force that will undoubtedly change the face of the continent in years to come. A warrior can usually only dream that their struggles could lead to such events occurring in their lifetime.”

O: “I don't mean to disagree with Lyan here but she does like to gloss over the things we lost thanks to that (I apologize to those who prefer to have every word written out but, Ophelia's description of Perrett was a little more, um, colorful than I was comfortable printing here.) ...and I hope it falls off.”

S: “So it's fair to say that you have strong feelings about what happened.”

O: “You could say that. While we're on the topic, I feel that the Lytyl can (Sorry again. I'll just give you this brief synopsis of her... passionate opinion of the svartalfar*: Ophelia feels that those she dealt with within the Lytyl Tribe were duplicitous, underhanded and generally dishonest in their dealings with her and Lyan.) ...after they spank the horse.”

(Note: *The svartalfar are elves that, long ago, moved into tunnels and caverns deep underground. As the centuries passed, their skin has absorbed a lot of the carbon in the fertile soil around them to make their skin colors range from gray to obsidian black.)

S: “Thank you, Ophelia for that... honest assessment of your feelings. I think I've held you two ladies up long enough. Be safe in your future adventures and I hope that we can do this again sometime.”

O: “You want to get yourself alone with two attractive women again? And I'm the morally ambiguous one?”

S: “I didn't mean it in the warm bodies in a bed way!”

O: “Of course not. But I do expect to have one in my bed tonight and I have a feeling that you are the one that can make that happen.”

S: “I'll... see what I can do. No guarantees, mind you.”

L: “Does that mean that you may provide me with a better sharpening stone?”

S: “That would be... easier.”

I hope you enjoyed reading my conversation with Ophelia and Lyan. I have to admit that it so didn't go the way I thought it would. Anyway, my novel, Ophelia and Lyan are Dead Meat is available in paperback and e-book formats here: bit.ly/1HYjNSH

Fun Facts About Honua:

The world on which Ophelia and Lyan live, called Honua, isn't earth in the ancient past or extreme future. It is an entirely separate world.

Case in point, Honua doesn't have a "leap year". The closest equivalent that they do have is called the "Longest Day". Every four or five years, there is one day where, just as the sun starts to set, another starts to rise. So the entire world has a full day and a half of sun before darkness actually falls again.

It's difficult to predict just when it will happen precisely, but it does consistently occur in that four to five year window. Both those factors make it a popular but elusive astrological phenomena to try and tie to rituals or energy manipulation required for the most powerful spells.

This is, of course, only one of many of the differences of Honua and this world.  While it does have a lot of elements that fans of fantasy will recognize but there are so many more that are completely new.  I'll be mentioning or showcasing various elements here and, of course, in my novels and other works.  Please keep an eye out!

Postcards from Honua #1

I thought it might be fun to create a segment to put up little quotes and excerpts from some of my stories that I think are funny or otherwise notable.  I'm calling this feature "Postcards from Honua" (as I'm sure this post's title hinted you toward) and here comes the first!  The following is a short excerpt from my novel, Ophelia and Lyan are Dead Meat:

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“This is him?” Lyan asked, not acknowledging Ophelia’s greeting.

“This is the coward who attacked you without raising any declaration of battle?”

Ophelia nodded, a clicking noise coming from the corner of her mouth. “That’s him in all his glory.” She chuckled.

As Lyan’s eyes scanned down the man, her face went from stern to a mask of confusion. “Why is he naked?”

Caleb looked down at himself for the first time. Loop after loop of rope was wrapped around his rib cage and arms. Oddly, his chest was completely exposed, the bottom half of the glyph tattooed onto the middle of his torso, that looked like a life sized crimson hand reaching out from his abdomen, peeked out from under the rope.

He could feel his wrists tied together behind the back of the chair he was sitting on and his shins, from ankle to calf, tied tightly to the legs of the wooden chair. He expected to be out of his armor but this?

“We didn’t want him to escape did we?” Ophelia smirked up at the taller woman. “Besides, he’s hot. Why not get a look at the goods?”

She laughed even as the barbarian woman looked somewhere between confused and disturbed. 

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My novel, Ophelia and Lyan are Dead Meat is available here:  bit.ly/1HYjNSH