How do your fictional mothers fare?

Oh, it’s been a gorgeous Mother’s Day here, bountiful with flowers, chocolates, hugs, playful kiddies, goofy dogs, bunny cuddles, relaxed lunching, soft sunny weather and early morning serenading by a quail (too complicated to go into why I was sleeping overnight in a chair eight feet from our newest ‘rescue’, Aquila-the-Quail).

At this end of the day, I am left reflecting not only on my own familial relations, but on that of my numerous ‘fictional mums’, especially Riana, heroine of The Siaris Quartet.

Riana comes into her own in Reunion, second book of the quartet, with a complex and evolving connection to her lifelong love. At the start of this book he is bound by a dark spell and far from friendly, but spells can wane, and Riana’s intuition is awake to the tiniest glimmer of change. The last thing she expects is for motherhood to find her again. Her two daughters perished twenty thousand years ago, and the circumstances she finds herself in now would not be considered ‘ideal’ for another conception, in any world. But life can take strange turns, and the makers of Siaris take a very big view of their creation and its players.

Riana has a mighty strong will, but how will she face the ultimate test: to do whatever it takes to protect her child, even if it means putting herself at risk, without betraying her responsibilities as a Guardian of Siaris?  Part of the ‘epic’ in the second book of this fantasy is the primal force of motherhood, which will dare all to safeguard its young, in real life as in myth and legend. As in real life, Riana’s mothering does not happen in a vacuum, nor in ‘Paradise regained’ (yet), but in a world of contrasting pulls and demands. In this excerpt from Reunion, Riana surfaces from a tangle of reflections to follow the dictate of her heart:

***

“Mi’ama?”

The sourness lifted from Riana’s mind. “Sorry, darling.” She pulled Daimen closer, until his head was resting on her breast. One of his wings stretched down, its tip brushing her knee. His pinions were starting to lengthen, and she’d hardly noticed. She blinked back a sudden rush of tears. Daimen nestled in tightly, as if he couldn’t get close enough to her.

“Mi’ama, are you leaving?”

Riana took in a breath. Daimen’s eyes were raised to her, layer on layer of shadows wheeling in their depths. She stroked his arm, following its longer, less childish contour. Watching where her hand passed, her stomach knotted. Daimen was growing, yes – but his spellsheen was riddled with weaknesses, unable to form properly under the constant violence. At his age, it should have at least three separate constructs – silken comforters, radiant healers, sharp-edged protectors. Instead, she was looking at patches of broken patterns that floated on a fragile web of spell-threads, so destructible.

She’d been putting off a final decision, caught by the thought of what her family had risked to get her out of Mortaidh, dreading Aeron’s reaction. Now, looking at her son, she knew what she had to do, that she couldn’t hesitate any longer.

“Can I come too?”

Daimen’s words broke into her crystallizing train of thought. She kissed his forehead. His scent filled her, reminding her of Deep Corewane, that day at the end of every summer when veils shrouded the Core’s brilliance, leaving the sky heavy and rich. Daimen’s moods, his passions, his sensitivities, would become as intense as the dying summer with age – she already saw the man he would be. But his extremes would be threaded with sweetness, if only he was allowed a space to grow as he should.

If only.

She folded a hand around his wing-crest. “No, that you mustn’t do. It wouldn’t be safe for you.”

Daimen’s mouth turned down at the corners. “I’m not safe here.”

Riana pressed her face into his hair. “You will be, sweetheart. I promise.”

Daimen’s lids drooped. He snuggled down further, and fell into a sleep deeper than he’d been permitted for weeks. Riana let her own eyes close, savoring this moment of tranquility. Of release. She didn’t let her mind focus for even a second on Mortaidh, and what the lull meant – no thought on her part must darken Daimen’s dreaming.

The outline of Aeron’s face sharpened in front of her. His thought was turning this way, and Riana could guess why. It was time to speak with him of what she intended to do. He was struggling, and she needed him to stay steady – to look after Daimen in her absence.

However long that will be.

She had to inform someone else first. Goosebumps ran across her skin. She pulled her focus in tight and threaded it south on a line of flickering gold.

***

Riana, I wish you the best of fortune. And to all the mothers out there in this world, may happiness and peace shine on all your pathways. Happy Mother’s Day!

To my truest friend

Reunion:The Siaris Quartet Book Two can be found at Musa Publishing, Amazon and Barnes&Noble.

Interview at Indie Reviews

Writer and reviewer, Angella Graff has posted a lovely interview over at Indie Reviews, in which she asks me about writing, and about my current release, Reunion: The Siaris Quartet Book Twohttp://reviewerteamwinz.wordpress.com/2013/04/04/interview-with-joanna-fay/

Thanks Angella!

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Of Walls, Lightships and Telepathy

This is a post I would never have dreamed of writing, until a few weeks ago – the night of February 18th, to be exact – and the fact that I was given time to run indoors for my camera. It isn’t easy to talk about clairvoyance, telepathy or contact with extra-terrestrial ‘friends and family’ (to put it mildly) in a world that privileges the mentality of ‘seeing is believing’. Some brave souls do; my eldest great-aunt was interviewed on radio about reincarnation in the 1950s, much to the consternation of the family.

For the purposes of this post I will focus on telepathy, personal experience, and inter-generational patterns, as I discovered a few years ago in a memorable conversation with my grandmother. Quite ‘out of the blue’, she spoke to me of her childhood experiences of telepathy – or in her case, involuntary, overwhelming mental bombardment with other people’s thoughts. She related that by the age of eight, and especially at school, being immersed in a continuous wash of other children’s thoughts (not all of them pleasant) became so distressing that she deliberately constructed a psychic ‘wall’ around her mind to screen out the mental chatter. No one taught her how to do this, but she succeeded, and effectively blocked the cross-currents of her classmates’ thoughts and emotions. It astounded me to hear this story; it was sad to feel what we had not shared all those years, yet also wonderful. Why? Because I had done exactly the same thing, at the same age, and by some strange fortune, at the same school! When I turned eight, my family moved from Perth (Western Australia) to Hobart (Tasmania). We stayed until the end of that first year in the house where my grandmother had grown up. I went to her old school for a term…and reached a level of mental ‘in-flow’ from others that I couldn’t handle, so built walls to create a ‘safe space’.

Nan at 90

Nan at 90

I will never know now what my grandmother did with her enclosed sensitivity, but for me, it was the beginning of creating an internal yet distant world that would become peopled with a race of symbiotes who ‘walked in each other’s thoughts’ and communicated telepathically as naturally as breathing. This world became the basis of Siaris, and the quartet of novels currently underway. The novels’ characters grew into people with their own stories and complexities, but their form and nature changed very little from those early imaginings.

Perhaps bringing Siaris out of its private ‘sanctuary’ into the public arena as a set of fantasy novels gave me a personal ‘push’ as well…to dismantle the mental wall built in childhood and allow/encourage my ‘inner antennae’ to function again. To detail that dismantling (still in progress) would take a book, so I’ll just say here that it has been – and is – a profound, ongoing act of love, with rewards that are incalculable. Rewards which took me out to the front driveway of my house on February 18th, night of Jupiter conjuncting the Moon. Three days earlier, I had asked those I am in contact with (ETs, space brothers, light beings, star family, call them what you will) for a piece of ’3D evidence’ of their presence/reality to share with others. As I stood looking at Jupiter ‘touching’ the Moon, my vision altered and Jupiter appeared a golden colour. I had a strong sense of a presence there and, on receiving a confirmation, headed inside for my camera. By the time I returned (about 30 seconds) a beautiful lightship had appeared above the Moon, with a central blue disc shape rimmed in silver, pink and violet. Here are the photos:

Moon, with Jupiter conjuncting the Moon's lower right hand side

18-02-13 Moon, with Jupiter conjuncting the Moon’s lower right hand side

Moon lower right of frame, lightship entering upper right

Moon lower right of frame, lightship entering upper right

Lightship close-up

Lightship close-up

Lightship close-up; blue disc, pink, violet and silver rim

Lightship close-up; blue disc, pink, violet and silver rim

 

Lastly, I’ll leave you with a little excerpt from Reunion, second novel in The Siaris Quartet, where the human viewpoint character, Ravin, has a breakthrough moment:

Ravin?

Ravin stepped out of the water-stream and picked up a towel. The whisper ran through his head but he didn’t respond. How many times had he invented Lenea’s voice, played with its subtle timbre and wrapped it around the lonely space inside his chest?

Ravin?

He paused in the motion of towel-drying his legs and leaned against the cubicle wall in sudden shock. A thread, almost invisible, stretched in front of his mind’s eye, strung with tiny particles of light that hung like golden pearls before him.

The breath burst from his lungs. Lenea?

Oh, well done, my love. Lenea’s mental voice brushed into him, raising gooseflesh on his damp skin.

Ravin couldn’t help laughing. I didn’t do anything!

Exactly. You relaxed and let your subtle mind do its work. I knew you could.

Oh gods, Lenea! The reality sank into Ravin’s whirling mind. I – we’re talking. You’re with me.

Always with you, ciria.

The pearls quivered on the thread, as if blown by a brisk wind. Their sharp movement soaked into Ravin’s brain – and he understood they signaled turmoil in his Hiniran lover. Lenea love, what are you thinking?

Ravin, we need to meet. Can you leave the city?

Ravin hesitated. Lenea hadn’t answered his question, but he let it go. He did a quick mental assessment of the various shafts leading out of Dominas into the hills of the Vale. The least-used passages were those closest to the summits, especially in the quiet hours before dawn.

He tried sending a picture along the thread. So fine, but it held steady and absorbed the image he imprinted. A white platform sunken into the blue heights of a hill facing northwest, a slim-line door decorated in a pattern of silver, dim in the bronze light.

All right, my love. I’ll be there.

The thread dissolved. Ravin shivered. The heat of Lenea’s presence ran through his limbs as if they’d just made love, as if her spellsheen had loosed silken arousers around his flesh. Looking down, he snorted. He needed another shower – a cold one.

***

Well, it always pays to keep a sense of humour! I’ll leave you to make up your own minds…though I have taken poetic license here: for me, it seems not so much like a string of pearls as a line of warm diamond light….

Meet the Villain!

The lead villain of The Siaris Quartet novels gives his first ever public interview over at Nyki Blatchley’s blog today. Meet Xereth…in a good mood (well, sort of):   http://nyki-blatchley.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/guest-post-joanna-fay-interviews-xereth.html

Xereth_

‘Daughter of Hope’ nominated for the SSFWA’s Annual Awards

It’s lovely to see Daughter of Hope, first novel in The Siaris Quartet, on the nominations list for the Science Fiction and Fantasy Association of Western Australia’s annual ‘Tin Duck’ Awards, in the Best Professional WA Long Written Work section.  ’Daughter’ is in good company, with two novels by Juliet Marillier, along with novels by Adrian Bedford and Dane Richter. All of us are, or have been, members of the Katharine Susannah Prichard Writers’ Centre Speculative Fiction Group. It truly is a power-house, with many published authors to its credit, and always more up and coming. Yay West Aussies!

My short story Pearl Red: The Hunt of the Unicorn is a candidate in the Best Professional WA Short Written Work section of this year’s awards. Two of my writing buddies from Egoboo WA, Satima Flavell and Sarah Lee Parker, also have short stories in this section, along with stories by Martin Livings and Stephanie Gunn.

The awards will be announced at the end of March at SwanCon 2013. Good luck to all the nominated authors!

More information about this year’s SwanCon and the nominations lists can be found here:

https://2013.swancon.com.au/content/article/38

DoH2c

An Elvish Moment: Reflecting on Tolkien

Seeing Peter Jacksons’ new movie version of The Hobbit recently has led me to ponder afresh the devotion still inspired by Tolkien’s opus, The Lord of the Rings, its ‘prequel’ children’s book The Hobbit, and the deep mythos behind them, collected as The Silmarillion and later on, in the twelve volume set The History of Middle Earth. As you may have guessed from the above, I’ve been a Tolkien fan for years (decades). Reading The Lord of the Rings back to back seventeen times as a teenager was largely responsible for my taste for epic fantasy and invented languages. Tolkien always maintained – to the disbelief of many – that the basis for his writing was primarily linguistic ie; he invented his languages, and the world of Middle Earth and its histories unfolded to house them. The ‘realism’ and internal intergrity of his languages has certainly captivated many; his Quenya (High Elvish) is considered the second-most widely spoken invented language in the world after Esperanto…and considering that Quenya evolved as a purely private individual passion, unlike Esperanto, which was developed with a collective purpose, this is all the more astounding.

Middle Earth diehards were thrilled to see how much loving attention to detail was lavished on The Lord of the Rings movie trilogy. In a way, The Hobbit is even more of a delight, because Jackson has melded into it a great deal of backstory that never appeared in the book, but which belongs to the vast ‘hidden’ story surrounding it. It’s easy to see the passion propelling this enterprise, one I know well from mid-teens when my best friend and I taught ourselves Quenya and wrote letters to each other in Elvish script. A passion that sparked ‘big vision’ in my early writings, layered world-building and a love of word-inventing. In the fantasy sequence I am currently working on, The Siaris Quartet, a taste of other languages remains in spell-casting, but the original material contained whole dialogues written in the languages of the different races – great fun for me, but not so user-friendly when it came to unleashing Siaris on other readers!

After Tolkien’s death, some three thousand pages of language notes were discovered (well, he did term inventing languages his ‘private vice’) and the degree to which he lived and breathed his created world became clear. Nowhere is this more obvious – and poignant – than in what I regard as one of the all-time greatest romances, the tale of Beren and Luthien. Their story appears as a chapter in The Silmarillion, but was initially written in verse (incomplete at 10 000 lines), not only in Elvish language, but in Tengwar (Elvish script). Apart from being a window into the fact that Tolkien imagined the story in Elvish, it is a stunning epic romance tale that could easily fill a novel, and in part a beautiful echo of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, with a gender reversal. Beren and Luthien’s tale really sits at the heart of Tolkien’s mythic world; Aragorn, Elrond, his daughter Arwen and two sons all have blood-links to Beren and Luthien, for instance. They were also at the heart of Tolkien himself. The names Beren and Luthien are carved on the gravestone of Tolkien and his wife. I would love to see the story of Beren and Luthien turned into a film, with the same dedication given to it as to The Hobbit and LOTR.

In the throes of finishing edits on the third book in The Siaris Quartet and starting on the fourth, it feels fitting to pause for an ‘Elvish moment’ and give humble thanks to Tolkien for showing me (and many others) the meaning of a lifelong sub-creative passion, and for the inspiration to build worlds, from love. It does seem appropriate that my second published short story,  ’Feather Fall’ (set in Siaris) appeared in an anthology titled Elf Love (Pink Narcissus Press). Now I have Musa to thank for publishing Daughter of Hope and Reunion, the first two books in The Siaris Quartet .

I shall leave you, gentle readers, with a bit of Elvish:

Elen sila lumen omentielvo ~ A star shines on the hour of our meeting.

The headstone of JRR Tolkien's wife, Oxfordshire, England.

The headstone of JRR Tolkien and his wife, Oxfordshire, England.

‘Reunion’ Release Day!

Reunion, second novel in my fantasy sequence The Siaris Quartet, has been released today! A big thank you to the team at Musa Publishing, with special thanks to my editor, Jessica Robinson, cover artist Kelly Shorten and book designer Cera Smith, for transforming the manuscript of Reunion into a polished, beautiful book.

Immortal love was never meant to be broken, but the road to restoring it is beyond imagining.

The world of Siaris has been thrown into chaos.  Xereth, still reeling from the loss of his children, has bided his time and waited years for the perfect time to exact revenge.  That time is drawing near.  Little does Xereth know, he’ll have unsolicited help along the way.

Long-dormant prejudices have surfaced among the humans and elden of Siaris, and they are turning their hate toward their Guardian protectors. Neither visions nor spell-craft can predict the mutiny being prepared in their protectorate, and when a human and Guardian fall in love the rule banning their marriage only ignites the drive to retaliate.

In the world Riana and her Guardian family protect, war has broken out, led by the man who once loved her, now Lord of the Shadow Realm. The old rules are crumbling, the spells engraved in the Guardians’ bones are breaking down.  Will Siaris and its Guardians survive the changes?

Excerpt

Strength coursed through Riana’s body as if a river had been unleashed, driving her into a sprint. She hurtled down the dark hallway, swiveling an image of the fortress around in her mind’s vision. Locking onto her position, she took an ascending passage.

She ran hard. Mottled folds of cloth whipped around her ankles. The fortress’s black walls pressed in close, dank and smothering. Her footsteps were muffled, all sounds eaten in the gloom. Her bare feet stung where they met the fierce cold of the floor. She veered around a twist in the corridor and rocked back on her heels. Eyes gleamed in front of her, colder than the stone beneath her feet.

“Riana.”

The voice slid like ice through her head. No mercy lit Maegren’s features, no hint of the knowledge she’d seen. Torchlight licked at the hem of his cloak, sent a chill line down his black feathers.

Riana forced down panic. “Maegren, let me go.”

She held herself still, but a betraying tremor touched her words. He laughed. Backing away, Riana spun about and slipped into a narrow opening to her left. She fled down a pitted slope into deeper blackness lit only by her fractured halo.

She ran until the breath caught in her lungs, until her feet began to slow. The strength she’d built was sapping from her limbs, draining from fractures in her spellsheen.

I can’t escape.

Every turn and kink in the line of the path was drawing her further into the fortress. The dark communal will at its centre closed in fast, tightening the noose. The soft mutters of the gods gnawed at the edges of her mind. Ancient decay cloyed in her nostrils. She lurched to a halt.

Impossibly, Maegren stood before her again. A vindictive smile curled his lips as he swept a low bow. The black hair framing his face swung in glittering sheets. Catching a faint blue glow at the periphery of her vision, terror knifed through Riana and sent pinpricks though her limbs. She glanced back over her shoulder, searching the darkness. In the corner of her eye, an indigo form closed in on her with predator stealth.

“Xereth,” she whispered.

Her cousin’s blue eyes narrowed, transfixing her.

Trapped.

Run to ground like a wild thing.

Sensing something else, unbelieving, she looked down. Low in her belly a point of light welled. New cells sparkled where an egg snuggled in the wall of her womb. She gasped and put a trembling hand to her body. Maegren’s suppressed sound of shock caught her ear. Reacting to Xereth’s presence, she shielded her sudden awareness with all the power she could muster. The white glow in Maegren’s eyes dulled. Weakness crept up Riana’s legs as a picture formed in front of her. She sank to her knees, oblivious to the icy bite of the floor beneath her hand. Before her stood a little boy, quite calm, his eyes shining. He held a hand out to her, one cheek dimpling.

“Mother, it will be all right.”

 

Reunion: The Siaris Quartet Book Two is available now from Musa Publishing.

galley cover

What a gorgeous cover!

Musa Publishing’s artist Kelly Shorten has designed this beautiful image for the cover of Reunion, second novel in my epic fantasy sequence The Siaris Quartet. Big thanks to Kelly!

Reunion will be available as an e-book from February 8. Watch this space…..

Immortal love was never meant to be broken, but the road to restoring it is beyond imagining.

 

galley cover

Tuesday Quote

“Revam is my home. Alen is my home. And you are my bedrock. I haven’t once thought of leaving, not even in the time you’ve considered cutting my mindlink, and not even all these years in the firing line of Vaen’s jealousy.”

Isereina speaking to Sier, Daughter of Hope

‘Daughter of Hope’ and her origins…

Editor and publisher, Dario Ciriello, has interviewed me about Daughter of Hope, the origins of this novel and how it is situated as part of The Siaris Quartet. Thanks for the awesome rave, Dario…and for all your advice and encouragement during Revetia’s journey to publication…no one could ask for better!

You can read the interview at Dario’s blog.

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