Pre-Modern Ironsmithing (Again)

This is the second post of the Ironsmithing set from the Unmitigated Pedantry blog: it's a week late because the original blogger split Pt. 4 into two sections. So without further ado, here are parts III, IVa, and IVb. https://acoup.blog/2020/10/02/collections-iron-how-did-they-make-it-part-iii-hammer-time/ https://acoup.blog/2020/10/09/collections-iron-how-did-they-make-it-part-iva-steel-yourself/ https://acoup.blog/2020/10/16/collections-iron-how-did-they-make-it-part-ivb-work-hardening-or-hardly-working/

Pre-Modern Ironsmithing.

I've been following A Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry recently, and the blogger's running a four-week series on pre-modern blacksmithing: this is gold for my current WIP, as the VC is part of a "primitive" or what we'd think of as a "stone-age" tribe threatened by an "early iron-age" empire (pseudo-Roman, with more bronze and a… Continue reading Pre-Modern Ironsmithing.

The Planetary Books

Those who've followed this blog will remember that I got a couple of stories picked up by an outfit called Superversive Press in their "Planetary" anthology set. Unfortunately, Superversive Press folded before they could publish more than the first five of the set (and only one of my stories). The good news is, the anthologies… Continue reading The Planetary Books

Tracing the Arkenstone

Whence came the Heart of the Lonely Mountain, the Arkenstone of Thrain? What do we know about the Heart of the Mountain? It was found by the children of Durin beneath the Lonely Mountain, and it shown with its own inner light, as even the hobbits attest in the Red Book of Westmarch.

On “The Night my Father Shot the Werewolf”

http://www.declanfinn.com/2020/01/the-night-my-father-shot-werewolf-by.html?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=facebook When a boy is nine, his Dad is the most important person in his life, and he should be able to look to Dad to defeat the monsters that hunt in the dark.  Sean Grady always knew his Dad would do whatever it took to keep the family safe:  this is Sean’s story. Thanks… Continue reading On “The Night my Father Shot the Werewolf”

The Wolf’s Cry: Author’s Notes on an Unfinished Tale

One of the seminal reasons I opened this sporadic blog in the first place was for a venue to air my writing-- some of it going back to high school, twenty years ago-- that was mouldering on my hard drive without a chance to be read by readers. The story The Wolf's Cry was one… Continue reading The Wolf’s Cry: Author’s Notes on an Unfinished Tale

Donald MacGillavry, The Genius Hoax

Donald's gane up the hill hard and hungry
Donald comes down the hill wild and angry;
Donald will clear the gouk's nest cleverly
Here's to the king and Donald Macgillavry!

Sourcing Villainy for your Villains (The Problem of Evil)

"One of the most important things that an author should know in order to write good and even great stories, readers and future writers, is that evil in fact exists."

Yer Storybook-Folks Git Religion, and how to Do It Right.

G. Scott Huggins on writing "real" religion in imaginary worlds.

Night-Time is Always the Worst: Ch. 4

Kriever didn’t like public trans, and insisted on driving his old Sting Ray everywhere. He glanced over to the passenger seat, where she sat with his coat still over her shoulders.
“Which way, doll?” he asked. The rain had eased up, for now...

The White Cobra: The Lair of the Cobra

We pushed our way through the shattered city. All around us were the signs of a race without hope, an entire nation devoid of both love and life. "Is this what they saw at Pompeii?" I wondered. Men and women both, dead before they died.

The Wolf’s Cry: Chapter Four

"My friends, guests, neighbors, jokebrunts, et cetera, et cetera, I have asked you to come because Things are Happening," said the satyr. 

The Wolf’s Cry: Chapter Three

"Now, here are my maps, all very incomplete, of course—a little hobby of mine.  Folks from all over come in here, mostly gnomes, of course, but a few dwarves not too proud to duck a bit sometimes.  The Father has blessed all his children, and I feel my blessing is to share in hospitality."

The Wolf’s Cry: Chapter Two

Were those footsteps?  He hid himself behind a massive oak—greater than any he had seen in Europe.  The trunk was more than five feet in diameter, and smelled musty—very musty.  He could almost smell the centuries of age in the bark. But there were the footsteps again!  This time he was sure of it.  He peered out around the trunk...

The White Cobra: The City of Cobras

Then a roar like the fall of a second Atlantis tore the jungle behind us.  The great pillar stood shuddering, and then it fell, smashing branches and saplings on its way.  It shook the ground when it fell, and the treetops parted ...