You guys, I cannot stress enough how important it is for you to read consistently if you want to improve your writing. I’m of the opinion that being part of a critique group is the absolute best way to improve your writing as quickly and as reliably as possible. However, if you are not part of a critique group (and even if you are in one), you should read on a consistent basis to gain knowledge about how to improve your storytelling or prose or character development or anything else that goes into making a good book. If you never improve, you’re likely to start losing your edge, and you may not even realize it until someone edits your new manuscript.
This was a lesson I had been told year after year by writer friends, but I never truly took them seriously. I worried that if I read outside my genre, I would get bored and DNF the book. I also feared if I read too often, other people’s work would influence my stories in a way that would make them feel devoid of my style. However, it was only after I started reading consistently for the first time since high school that I gained a new perspective on why we should read other’s work.
Sometimes, we choose to revisit a book we loved in junior high/high school, and sometimes as we’re reading it, we see things we did not see before, and it’s not looking good. Suddenly, someone you used to praise as your favorite author is someone who’s books you can barely stand, and you learn what not to do when writing your own stories. This happened to me earlier this year. And then it happened again…and again…all with different book series from the same author.
The most disheartening part is this author is self-published, like me, and several of her books did not list an editor of any kind. However, that hardly seemed to make any difference as even books that did have an editor were still riddled with typos and other issues. I have never in my life thought I would read a book with over 200 typos in it (yes, I counted), among storytelling missteps, and inaccuracies in the book’s own worldbuilding. I don’t want to end up publishing something like that, and I doubt any of you want to either. I would be mortified.
I knew when I started to reread this author’s books that I would not find them as engaging as I once did when I was a teen, but I did not expect to find myself constantly being taken out of the story due to the numerous plot holes, out-of-character decisions, unlikeable characters who were meant to be likeable, and typos and formatting errors. It was exhausting to get through, but at the same time I wanted to stick it out because there were still moments I truly loved that I think this author did very well. As of writing this, the author has self-published four series and is working on their fifth. I managed to read through three of her four finished series, but I cannot continue without some kind of palate cleanser. Maybe once I’m feeling more refreshed I will finish what I started.
One thing I will always praise this author for is their imaginative premises, which often outshine the plots that rise from them. They draw heavy inspiration from old fairy tales, like those of the brothers Grimm, stories from other European countries, and various mythologies. I can tell this author has a passion for what they write, but I wish they would have invested more time into polishing their books before putting them out on the market. Every single one of her books reads like a first draft, not a finished story. I learned a very valuable lesson from revisiting these teen favorites. They still hold a special place in my heart, and now I have a new appreciation for them because I can see how much I’ve grown in my own craft thanks to my critique group.
Revisiting these series was a journey in and of itself. As I continue to revisit old favorites and dive into new books on my To-Read List, I hope to nourish my writing with new insights and ideas from talented, beloved authors. Dear reader (and writer!), thank you so much for your stay here! I hope you too will flourish in your writing by reading others’ work. Have a great one, and I’ll see you soon!
Hello dear reader! I wanted to share with you the first chapter for free of my debut novel. Maybe you’ll like what you see. đ
This is epic fantasy, action/adventure with a little twist of mystery.
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Chapter 1: Fendrel
Just keep a steady pace. Donât make eye contact . . . There he is.
A grin tugged at the corner of Fendrelâs mouth. He snaked his way through buyers and sellers as he followed his target, inconspicuous to the bustling crowd. Fendrel thanked his short stature and hooded coat for keeping him hidden from searching eyes as he waded through the populous streets of Sharpdagger. Caribou fur coats were uncommon in this region, but Fendrel would take the discomfort of sweat over being discovered any day. To his delight, the capital of the human kingdom was tightly-packed, each denizen living oblivious to the shady dealings that run rampant around every corner.
Someone slammed into Fendrelâs shoulder as he passed. Out of instinct, he placed a protective hand on his bag. The leather was cracked, scratched, torn, and scorched over years of travel, but it had served Fendrel well.
âBe more careful where you step, boy!â the passerby barked, turning around. His anger turned to shock when he saw who he had knocked into. The man stood in silence until a wave of citizens separated the two from each otherâs view.
Fendrel ducked his head. He had been recognized. It was only a matter of time before every knight in the city knew where he was. Panic pricked through Fendrel when he realized he had lost sight of his target. With a more frantic pace, he pushed onward, only breathing a sigh of relief when the suspicious figure once again caught his eye.
The target, a devil-like man named Sadon, stopped in his tracks. He, too, wore a long coat but cut from the body of a wolf and tailored with finer craftsmanship. Fendrel suspected it hid Sadonâs baldric, armed to the teeth with daggers. Sadonâs gray-streaked, blonde hair had been cropped short. Even from where Fendrel stood, he could tell the older manâs hair was cut professionally.
Has the royal guard become so lax that even Sadon can be preened here without the threat of arrest? Fendrel wondered as a look of disgust crept across his face.
Fendrel hid behind the corner of a building just as Sadon whipped his head around, his stern face scrutinizing everyone behind him. When Sadon grunted and continued on his path, Fendrel followed in his wake. He turned the corner just in time to see the well-dressed man disappear through a long alley. The stretch led to the side door of one of the tallest buildings in the city, second only to the Sharpdagger palace.
This must be some kind of storage house. Is it for weaponry? Or maybe items for trade?
He waited for Sadon to disappear inside, then maneuvered to the same entrance. The weathered door hung from the top hinge. When he pressed his ear against the door, it creaked slightly, but no one came to investigate.
Voices very familiar to Fendrel came from within the building. The first oneâthat of a middle-aged man named Charlesâwas a surprising comfort to hear, although Charlesâ the soft-spoken tone made his words unintelligible.
The second voice was Sadonâs, speaking in awe. âLook at this monster. Those claws of hers will grant us a fortune.â There was a beat of silence, then Sadon spoke again. âCharles, hand me that snapper.â
Something inside the building hissed. It burst into an inhuman screech that chilled Fendrel to his bones and made him grit his teeth as if he were the one being tortured.
They must have used the snapper to break its wing.
Fendrelâs heart sank. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone had heard the noise. He may have to forfeit the mission if his position was compromised. But it seemed as if no one had heardâor perhaps no one cared.
Thereâs a dragon in there, Fendrel thought as he turned his eyes back to the door. I wonder what tribe itâs from.
Two pairs of footsteps retreated deeper into the building. Fendrel listened until he heard a door inside the room slam shut. Perfect. He poked his head around the poor excuse for an entrance door to make sure no one else was there.
Only the dragon remained. Fendrel carefully opened the door a little more and slipped inside the expansive room.
Traps and snappers were stored in open wooden crates. Axes, arrows, spears, and swords lined the cobblestone walls. Amidst it all, in the center of the room, locked in a cramped cage, was one of the daintiest dragons Fendrel had ever seen. While small for a dragon, she was about the size of a horse. Fendrelâs eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat as he noticed the dragonâs tribe.
Silver eyes peered at him cautiously, fearfully. The dragon cowered against the back of her cage. Her dark gray feathers curled at the edges like swirls of mist. Her smooth, shiny horns and claws were dangerously sharp. The dragonâs ears, long and fluffy like those of a donkey, were pinned flat against her long neck. One of the dragonâs wings bent at an unnatural angle, blood trickling from where the shattered bone penetrated her skin.
This was a Vapor dragon, classified by Sadonâs hunters as one of the least-dangerous dragons known to mankind. Fendrel was inclined to believe the rumors about them but kept his mind open. After all, this was the first time he had met one.
How long has she been here? Probably not long. Sadon wouldnât let a dragon keep its claws unless he was busy.
When Fendrel shut the door behind him and stepped toward the cage, the dragon hissed and recoiled. Fendrel winced and waved his hands in front of him, shaking his head. He pointed at a set of double doors on the other side of the room, the only way the dragon hunters could have gone.
The dragon looked at the doors and stopped hissing. She must have presumed the hunters to be a worse enemy than Fendrel. After a moment, she returned her glare to the young man.
âIâm going to get you out of here,â Fendrel said, in the language of dragons, as he gave her a reassuring look.
With a noise of surprise, the dragon shoved herself farther back in her cage. There was a leather muzzle around her snout. Fendrel frowned and looked around at the weapons to see if there was anything he could use to break it. He doubted he would be able to use a snapper, not after the dragon had experienced the toolâs intended purpose. Spying a long metal staff with a hook attached to the end, he grabbed it.
Immediately, the dragon growled, wisps of mist curling from her nostrils and between her restricted jaws.
She wonât let me near her without me proving myself, will she?
Fendrel propped the staff up against the cage bars and reached under his shirt. He fished around for the necklace he showed to every dragon he rescued. Over the years, it had become something most dragons recognized, marking Fendrel as a sort of urban legend. His fingers closed around the smooth leather strap attached to a circular pendant carved from the bones of a caribou. Slowly, he lifted the necklace over his shirt.
Upon seeing the pendant, the dragonâs eyes widened. The mistâs descent ceased, and her noises subsided.
Fendrel tried to hide his smile. It was normal for him to be recognized by any common dragon, but not one as elusive as from the Vapor tribe. There was a reason most humans did not believe they existed.
He hid the necklace beneath his shirt and lifted the hooked staff. The dragon did not protest this time as Fendrel stuck the tool between the bars and hooked its end onto the muzzle. With one hand he held the staff, and with the other he unbuckled the strap that secured the muzzle around the dragonâs head. He began to pull the staff toward himself, and the dragon tugged her head in the opposite direction. Once the muzzle was left hanging around the hook, Fendrel set the staff down. The dragon scratched her snout with her talons, then moved her head to inspect her broken wing.
Fendrel looked at the lock on the cage to see if there was any way to break it. He sighed in annoyance. This metal was too strong to break or melt in any short amount of time. The lock would have to be opened. âDo you know what is past those doors?â Fendrel asked as he pointed to the doors through which the two hunters had left the room.
The dragon looked down at Fendrel with hesitation in her eyes.
âI know you can talk, and I know you can understand me.â Fendrel held his open hands out. âI donât know what rumors the Vapor tribe may have about me, but surely you heard I speak Drake-tongue, right?â
âThere . . . there are at least six other humans in this building. I can hear them moving boxes, but I do not know what is past the doors.â The dragonâs voice was soft and trembled with fright.
Fendrel sighed. He had freed dragons from hunters countless times before but never in this building. And to add to what could go wrong, Sadon was here.
He better not be the one holding the keys, or I may never get this dragon out of here, Fendrel thought.
âIâm sorry to leave you, but I have to find the key for this cage. I will be quick.â Fendrel placed a hand on the lock.
The dragonâs ears lowered in worry. âPlease, be careful.â
With a nod, Fendrel turned to walk toward the set of double doors.
âWhat is your name?â The dragon raised her voice a bit. âMy name is Fog.â
âFendrel.â He gave Fog a polite grin, then continued on. When he reached the doors, he steeled himself with a deep breath.
He pushed one door open a crack and peeked inside. The sight that met him made him wish he had never come to the city.
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If this little snippet interested you, you may want to get the book for yourself (or leave a review if you’ve read it already <3)! You can purchase it through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or directly from me using this hyperlink or by scanning the QR code below.
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