Keith Edward English, Wordsmith

Gax and Darlis’eit traveled down the snow-clad streets of Durthlem warily. The particular avenue they traversed sloped downward ever so slightly, making the going that more treacherous. Once already Gax’s feet had slid out from under him and he’d crashed down onto his back to slide a dozen feet down the icy street.

“Ya know, you didn’t need to bite a chunk out ofBeshyn’s ear,” Dar said, picking at her long fingernails with a knife. “He would’ve talked with a few mugs of ale in him.”

Gax looked sidelong at his elf companion. “And a run with you in his bedroll! He said as much!”

“He hinted as much, you dumb idiot. Now we’ll have to keep our eyes out for him and his friends trying to get even.” Continue reading “Hold my Battleaxe 2 – Gax runs into a horse, and earns some ale” →

As I come to the end of Revival of Fire (Ruination 3) I’m getting super amped to sit down and finish the damn thing. Life, however, keeps telling me to hold on. Can’t I just not work for like a week to devote ALL of my free time to writing!?

Still, this past week made for some good writing, some of which is below.

Things that might go well together but probably won’t:

The Punisher working as a high school conflict mediation counselor Continue reading “The Punisher and High School, Characters of The Source, One-Liners, Keebler, Vesik’s Daughter, Hold my Battle Axe” →

So, I started a brand new chapter of life this week. My work schedule (and the rest of life) changed quite a bit. I got out of the martial arts business to spend more time with my family, and good thing too seeing as how I’m going to a daddy next July! With all the changes, I built in time to focus on spreading the word about my words. So, here’s this week’s recap from various social media things.

Continue reading “MTG in Real Life; Arm and Hammer; The Boys Drink; The Evil Within; The Source” →

“No, we certainly cannot! If we do, what the hell will our readers read?”

     Conflict drives so many elements of your story, and this is why it’s important to be exceptional at developing it in your characters and plot. Conflict takes your characters, those beloved people you’ve taken so much time to get to know, then molds them into something new. You, meanwhile, are along for the ride as they are shaped. So make sure you have a good handle on how to create dynamic and interesting conflict in your novels. Continue reading “An Article on Developing Conflict in Fiction, for Writers” →

The oddity of this world continued to baffle Phalax, enough so that he forgot to keep his blood boiling. Had he forgotten his purpose for life? Without revenge, what else did he have? If this didn’t drive him then what did, if anything did at all?

For the third time, Phalax nearly walked into the broad side of a building while watching a dead person stroll down the street in the same direction as he was moving.

Daeson slapped his shoulder and said, “Losing your focus just a little bit?”  Continue reading “A Snippet of Game of Gods: Everyone Dies, then Follows the Road of Corpses” →

     Phalax Aberis dropped into a low crouch as the snap of a bowstring resounded from the curved stone walls of the dried ravine he traveled through. Dead roots ran across the ground in random disarray, pebbles and larger rocks nestling within their loose grip, small sprouts of green plants pushing up between it all every once in a while. Small trees infrequently burst up from the rocky ground, seeming dilapidated in the heat of the day. Continue reading “A Snippet of Game of Gods: Phalax Kills a Guy” →

     Gods convened as a final dark figure emerged from the anomaly of light. The spectacle was nauseating, glimpses of limbs and torsos tangling together then being spat out and taking form with each arrival. The portal was a mass of dim, white light that folded in on itself incessantly as if it were smoke billowing from a forest fire.

Despite the several black flames smoldering in the corners, darkness blanketed the room. The odd light dancing around the room from the supernatural flame was scant at best and did nothing more than suggest the corners of the hooded robes covering the figures and the furniture set in the middle of the room.

Black and white ruled this place and the figures inhabiting it would have it no other way. The latest one to arrive sat down with the others and all six chairs around the table were now full. Continue reading “Game of Gods Prologue” →

Deth Uk and the enemy fell quickly. Soon the avenues became choked by corpses and the living began tripping over limbs and swords. All the streets were occupied by men fighting ’til their final breath.

Ukebrelek’s old body began to move in the steady rhythm of a man anticipating death and murder. The dam that kept his bloodlust in check shattered and he hobbled into the fray. One arm held a staff that kept him up while his other fist gripped a scavenged axe that he swung without grace, but with savage fury.

The old man shouted as he fought, in both anger and pain as his bones and muscles protested each quick step and hard twist. Suddenly, fire erupted across his face as a blade sliced through his left eye, destroying it and opening a large gash from his brow to his jaw. The pain was horrific, paralyzing, and Ukebrelek was only allowed a few seconds to comprehend his ruined vision. His other eye reflexively shut and he groped his face, losing his grip on the staff that kept his feet beneath him. Continue reading “A Snippet from Game of Gods: Ukebrelek Joins the Fight” →

Micale stirred in his cot to Phalax’s left, squinting his eyes as shafts of light spearing from the cracked shutters struck his face. Phalax placed the pad of paper and charcoal pencils he’d been drawing with for the past thirty minutes on the floor next to his chair. A single rose was etched onto the page, one he had replicated many times. “Morning, Micale.”

“Is it now?” Micale grumbled in response. “Already?”

“Eh, it is a little early. But you slept all night long.”

“Can’t I sleep for a week?”

“Some people call that death. I don’t think that would fit you well.”

“Obviously not. At least not with these wizards. My back is sore as all hell thanks to them.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t blame them.”

“No. But it feels better to be a little angry at someone rather than just in pain. Well, now I’m really up thanks to your blathering.” Micale grinned as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. His smile turned into a frown as pain seared his back though.  Continue reading “A snippet from Game of Gods: Talking of Home” →