Work In Progress

Posted on December 7, 2014 by silaschampion

IMG_0641I was contacted recently by Colleen Halverson and asked to share some information about my current work in progress. Well okay, recently, might be incorrect. She actually contacted me over two weeks ago and I’m finally getting to it. She asked some great questions and I really had to think about the questions.

Okay, you got me. That’s not the actual reason either although her questions are really good. In truth, I was in the middle of trying to write a novel in November. This is an experience I blogged about last year. I promised myself that I wouldn’t work on anything else until I finished.  Now I finally have some time to discuss what I’m working on.

Describe your current WIP.

I just finished the first draft of a road trip story called Starling’s Flight.  In this story a college student reluctantly travels across the country to rejoin her family’s bluegrass band in time for a Fourth of July concert. As she travels, she wrestles with how to tell her father she no longer wants to pursue a career in music. She encounters plenty of colorful and sometimes dangerous characters along the way.
Who is your favorite character in your WIP and why?

I think it is my main character, Starling. She is tough and determined but hasn’t quite figured out how to be completely on her own. One thing I like is that she’s used to traveling and adapting to unusual situations. She’s also good at putting on a front and hiding her emotions. Sometimes a little too good. Not to mention, she plays the mandolin. How cool is that?
What’s the hardest challenge you had to face with your WIP?

One of the biggest challenges is making the travel believable. In the story she gets stranded and must find her way across the country using a variety of means sort of like Planes Trains and Automobiles. The problem is that cellphones and other modern conveniences make it harder to experience these kinds of problems. If your car breaks down you can always just call someone. If you’re lost you can just use Google Maps. That’s great in real life but it causes problems in stories. I had to find plausible ways for her to move from one place to another in the way she did. We’ll see if I pulled it off.
What aspects of your WIP are you most proud of and why?

It’s a little early to tell what exactly I will be proud of in this story. Hopefully it will be creating a strong, realistic main character that readers can relate to and cheer for.
If you write to music, what do you like to listen to as you write? What would be on the soundtrack to your WIP?

For this story the soundtrack would be bluegrass, obviously, which is not that much different than what I usually listen to. Most of the time you will find bluegrass, folk, or old “tear in your beer” country on my iPod. I do add in a healthy dose of celtic music as well. Pretty much anything with a fiddle is okay with me. If somebody is leaving somebody then that’s even better.
What’s your earliest memory of writing and creating stories?

The earliest writing I can remember is in elementary school. I was one of those kids who went over the page limit whenever we had a creative writing assignment. I remember one time our teacher gave us an assignment to write a fantasy story. I think I was the only one who actually wrote a fantasy story and it was too long. I still remember the story though.
What is one thing you think non-writers don’t understand about writing?

How slow publishing moves and how hard it is to get published. It takes a long time to find an agent, then it takes a long time to get books sold to publishers. Everything just moves slowly and sometimes it feels like not at all.
What is your greatest strength in writing? What is your weakness?

I think my greatest strength is my dialogue. I feel like I write witty banter fairly well although the readers will be the ultimate judge. My greatest weakness is probably lack of variety. I have several crutch words
What do you love most about your villain?

In this story there are several villains. She meets multiple people on who journey that get in her way. I suppose her biggest obstacle though, is herself. She must come up with the courage not only to survive unusual situations, but to finally step out on her own. She must make her own future.

What sorts of themes tend to recur within your writing? Why is that do you think?

Image 245One theme is travel. Most of the stories, actually all of them, involve traveling of some kind.  My favorite stories tend to involve journeys. Give me an epic quest or a treasure hunt. I guess I like the “life is a journey” metaphor so it finds its way into my writing. The other common feature seems to be a focus on the Midwest. I grew up there so I that makes sense. I like to find people and places that don’t always make it into stories. I’m all about the middle of nowhere.

This is what I’ve been working on this fall. I’d like to thank Colleen for asking me these questions. You can find her website here if you’d like to know more about her writing.

 

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Captain Elizabeth and the Ghost Ship

Posted on October 31, 2014 by silaschampion

Here’s another short story I wrote for some friends of mine. Hope you enjoy it.

 

Captain Elizabeth and the Ghost Ship

By Silas Champion

IMG_0597Captain Elizabeth stared out over the dark still waters of the ocean. Not a breath of wind stirred. A full moon climbed slowly from the ocean. Only the creaking and groaning of the ship broke the silence.

“Not going anywhere tonight, are we?” Emmey strolled across the deck, her sword clanking.

“Nothing worse than a calm,” Captain Elizabeth said. “We haven’t had wind for two days.” Captain Elizabeth and her crew weren’t afraid of pirates, storms, paper cuts, angry birds, the dark, or even sea monsters. The bravest crew and the best ship can’t sail if there’s no wind, though.

“The crew is restless,” Emmey said. “They don’t like sitting around.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “They don’t like all the cleaning I make them do when we’re sitting still.”

Emmey nodded. “That’s true.” At that moment they could hear Phoebe yelling at Logan for getting one of her precious cannons dirty. Phoebe was in charge of the cannons and took care of them like they were babies.

“It’s the passengers I don’t like,” Emmey said. “That skulking MacBride gives me the willies.”

“You never like anybody.” Elizabeth adjusted her jacket. “But I agree with you. He’s a little odd.”

“Ship ho!” shouted Harrison from the lookout’s post where he spent most of his time.

“A ship?” Elizabeth shouted. “Where?”

“To the starboard side,” came the call. Elizabeth and Emmey walked to the right side of the ship. Sure enough, in the moonlight they could see a ship on the horizon. Unlike their ship, though, it was moving.

“How are they moving?” Elizabeth pulled out her battered, golden spyglass. It wasn’t much use in the dark, so they just watched as the ship drew closer.

“That makes no sense.” Emmey looked up at the unmoving sails. “How can they get wind if we can’t?”

“I don’t know, but you better have Phoebe prepare the cannons.” Elizabeth turned. “Quietly, though. Do it quietly.” Emmey hurried away.

“Is that a ship?” The passenger MacBride came up behind Elizabeth. She turned and put her hand on her sword. Captain Elizabeth did not like anyone standing behind her.

“Yes, it is.”

“How is it moving?” he asked.

Captain Elizabeth shrugged. “We don’t know. Why don’t you go back to your cabin? We’ll figure it out.” That man did not go back to his cabin, which irritated Captain Elizabeth. She liked for everyone on her boat to do what she said.

Instead the man moved the rail and pointed. “It’s a ghost ship. It’s a ghost ship! Look at it!” Indeed, as the ship got closer it seemed to be sailing without a crew. Nobody moved on its deck and the tattered sails hung still.

Yet the ship didn’t move like an abandoned ship rocking carelessly on the waves. No, the ship moved in a straight, silent line. Its path would take it right past Elizabeth’s ship, the Flying Turtle. It moved in utter silence, unlike MacBride, who started moaning.

“It’s a ghost ship, it’s a ghost ship,” he repeated as he ran down the rail. Soon everybody crowded on deck, watching the mysterious ship. Excited murmurs ran through the crews and the passengers. The ship did not turn to the right or left; it just kept moving in absolute silence. Soon everyone on deck fell silent. If they spoke at all it was in whispers. Emmey returned.

“Phoebe is ready with the cannons,” she whispered.

Elizabeth nodded. “We won’t fire unless it turns toward us.”

“How is it moving at all?” Emmey put her hand on her sword. “It doesn’t make sense.” Whispers of “ghost ship” could be heard over the creaking of the ship. “Clear all these people off the deck.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I would rather haul stuff than people any day. Even cows would be less trouble.”

“Probably would smell worse though.” Emmey turned and strode through the crowd, quietly but firmly telling them to leave. Most of them left immediately, and all of them did after she threatened to beat them with her sword. Customer service was not her strong suit. Elizabeth stayed on the deck, watching the strange ship. As it passed in front of her ship she thought she heard the faint sounds of a fiddle.

Jonathon came up on deck and stood beside her. “What do you think it is, Captain?”

“Uh, I think it’s a ship. What’s wrong with your eyes?”

“But how is it … ?”

“I don’t know why it’s moving.” Elizabeth cut him off. “You’re the carpenter, you tell me how that would work.”

“Uh, I don’t know. There’s no wind.”

“I don’t pay you to tell me what I already know,” Captain Elizabeth said. Jonathon didn’t reply. They watched the ship until a thick fog moved in and covered it over.

“Well, that was creepy,” Jonathon said before walking away.

Nobody slept much on the ship that night. The passengers huddled in their cabins and the crew kept a vigilant watch. The strange ship did not return. When the sun came up, it burned away the fog, but the wind did not return. Elizabeth called everyone on deck for a meeting.

“I realize last night was strange, but there is no need for alarm. The sun is up this morning and the ship is gone. The wind will return soon.”

“Strange? Ha! It was more than strange.” MacBride stepped forward. “It was a ghost ship!” Everyone else nodded and murmured in agreement.

Elizabeth held up her hands. “There is no such thing as a ghost ship. Everyone calm down.”

“Ha, shows what you know,” MacBride said. “It’s the Fiddling Maid. Everyone knows that story, right?” He looked at the crowd. “The pirate ship that sailed the seas around here many years ago.” The crowd stopped talking and listened intently.

MacBride went on, “The captain had a daughter who played the fiddle. One day they attacked a ship and took an old woman prisoner. When they took the old woman’s rings she cursed them.” He looked at everyone with wild eyes. “She was a witch.”

“What did she say?” a rapt listener asked.

“She told them that they would all be doomed to sail forever and that his daughter would be forced to play the fiddle forever.”

“What do you mean, forever?” Logan asked. “How could anyone play forever? Wouldn’t the fiddle wear out? I mean, what about the strings?”

MacBride ignored him and raised his voice. “So now they sail the seven seas and anyone who meets them will sink to the depths and die.” Somebody actually screamed.

“We met them and we are still here,” Emmey pointed out.

“We were lucky.” MacBride’s eyes got big. “They will be back again, and we will all die.” More screams and murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“I still don’t see how they could sail forever,” Logan said. “Wouldn’t the ship wear out? What happens if they start leaking?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?” MacBride shouted.

“He does ask a lot of questions,” Elizabeth stepped forward. “But he’s not wrong, and if I hear any more about a ghost ship I’m going to have Phoebe here whack you over the head.” MacBride looked at Phoebe, who was holding a small club. He looked back at Captain Elizabeth.

“I’ll be in my cabin.” He stomped away. Phoebe looked disappointed that no whacking would be required.

Elizabeth turned to the crowd. “Now clear my deck.” The passengers grumbled, but they slowly cleared the deck.

Elizabeth faced her crew. “We have some work to do.”

The rest of the day passed slowly. The sound of hammers and saws filled the air. Some of the passengers tried to see what was happening, but one look at Phoebe and her club sent them scurrying away.

As darkness fell, everyone gathered on deck or at the windows to see what would happen. Everyone but Captain Elizabeth, that is. As the crowd watched for the ship, she slipped into the water. The water was cold, but Elizabeth really didn’t mind. She pushed the tiny raft that they’d built earlier out into the dark water. Jonathan manned the rope that kept her attached to the ship.

♠ ♠ ♠

IMG_0593For three hours, nothing happened. The moon rose, but the sea remained empty. One by one, the watchers drifted away, convinced that their beds would be better than waiting for a ship that wasn’t coming. MacBride, though, paced the deck, grumbling to himself. Captain Elizabeth bobbed on the water, waiting. Just after Emmey rang the midnight bell, the ship appeared on the horizon again. Captain Elizabeth had told Harrison not to call out, but soon MacBride spotted the ship and started yelling.

The whole deck filled, and Elizabeth wished she’d let Phoebe whack him after all. Just like the night before, the ship glided quietly across the sea. Unlike the night before, clouds moved in and covered the moon. Nobody could see the tiny raft floating across the water toward the ghost ship. Elizabeth swam silently right up behind the ship. Even ghosts don’t see well in the dark, apparently, for the ship remained quiet. It creaked and popped, but nothing else stirred. She caught a rope that hung down to the water. After tying it to her raft, she clambered silently aboard and pulled out her sword.

Still nothing moved on the ship. Captain Elizabeth did not believe in ghosts, but she had to admit the silence was creepy. After pausing a moment, she crept slowly across the deck. At that exact moment, a sad fiddle tune came up from below decks. Elizabeth started. I mean, she’s not afraid of anything, but sudden fiddle music on a creepy boat would make anybody start. After a moment or two, she determined that the sound came from what would be the captain’s cabin. Quietly, she moved to a window and peeked inside. A small girl stood in front of a music stand, playing the fiddle. A tiny, flickering candle lit her sad, round face.

“That’s no ghost,” Elizabeth thought. Then she noticed a thick rope running from the girl’s ankle to the wall. The girl was a prisoner. Elizabeth eased around to the door, careful to walk softly on the deck. Slowly, she opened the door, cringing as it creaked on its hinges. The little girl gasped and stopped playing with a squeak. Her eyes got big as cups and she opened her mouth.

“Shhh!” Elizabeth put her finger over her mouth. The girl still looked scared but she didn’t scream. Elizabeth pretended to play the fiddle as she stepped into the room. The girl nodded and started playing again. She watched Elizabeth with her big eyes. Captain Elizabeth walked into the room and sliced the rope with her sword. The girl smiled but didn’t stop playing.

“Are you alone?” she asked. The girl shook her head but didn’t say anything. Elizabeth crept back outside and moved quietly along the deck.

“You better not stop again,” an angry voice shouted up from below the deck. After looking around, Elizabeth realized that everyone was below deck. Slowly and quietly, she closed the hatch, trapping all of them inside. After that she went back to the cabin.

“We are getting you out of here,” she said. The girl nodded again. Faint thumping sounded and soon Phoebe, Jonathon, and Logan appeared on the deck. All of them were armed with all the weapons they could carry.

“What is it?” Phoebe whispered, looking at the girl still playing her fiddle.

“Follow me,” Elizabeth said. Just then, loud pounding and shouting came from the hatch door.

“Good day, gentlemen,” Captain Elizabeth called. “Your hatch seems to be battened down.” The pounding stopped.

“I don’t know who you are, girl, but you’re dead.”

“And here I thought you lads were the ghosts.” Elizabeth laughed. “Now, are you going to play nice, or do we have to set this ship on fire?” The men shouted and raged for a while, but finally they settled down.

“Fine, what do you want?” the grouchy man shouted.

“I want you to come out here one at a time without any weapons.” The men below didn’t respond, so she raised her voice. “Alright, Phoebe, light the fire.” Phoebe lit an oily rag and held it out over the hatch. It made a lot of smoke and smelled terrible.

“Wait! Wait! We’ll come out. We’ll come out,” the man shouted. Jonathon opened the hatch, and one by one they straggled out. They were a hard-looking bunch of rascals and none of them seemed very happy at the moment.

“Can I shoot this one?” Phoebe asked every time a new one came out.

“Not yet, Phoebe,” Captain Elizabeth said. At last all the men stood on the deck. Elizabeth paced in front of them while Jonathon and Logan inspected the ship for any stragglers. Phoebe stood behind Elizabeth with her gun trained on the men.

“What exactly did you men have planned with your little ghost ship trick?” she asked. None of the men said anything so she turned to Phoebe. “Which one would you like to shoot first?”

“We were planning on taking your ship, girl,” the grumpy man said. He looked like he’s just eaten a whole bowl of lemons. “We scare ships so we don’t have to destroy them. That way we can sell the whole ship later.”

“What about the girl?”

“Oh well, you know the legend, we needed a fiddle player.”

“Well, I like your plan,” Elizabeth said, “I believe this ship will be worth a lot of money.” Jonathon popped up from under the deck.

“They’ve got a paddle wheel thing down here,” he said. “That’s how they could move.”

“That should add to the value,” Elizabeth said.

“You can’t just take our ship.” The lemon-faced man stepped forward.

“Why not? You were going to take ours. You’re nothing but pirates.”

“I won’t lose my ship to some girl,” the man snarled. He stepped forward again and Phoebe whacked him on the head. He collapsed in a heap on the deck.

“Anybody else got something to say?” Elizabeth put her hand on her sword. Nobody had anything to say. She looked at Phoebe. “Feel better now?” Phoebe nodded.

Once they determined there was nobody else on board, they put all the men back down under the deck. After a few more threats, they began operating the paddle wheel. It was harder now because Elizabeth’s ship was tied behind, so they were moving two ships. Leaving Phoebe and Jonathon to guard the ship, Elizabeth took the little girl back to the Flying Turtle.

“Who’s this?” Emmey said as she helped them aboard.

“This is Ming.” Elizabeth patted the girl’s head. “She doesn’t say much but she plays the fiddle.”

“Hey, that’s good. We haven’t had a fiddle player in some time.”

“I know.” She turned to Logan. “Get Ming some food. The poor girl is hungry.” Logan took Ming away and MacBride walked up to her.

“What happened?” he asked.

“It turns out your ghosts weren’t as scary as you thought,” Elizabeth said. MacBride didn’t reply. He just walked away grumbling.

“I guess he is not a satisfied customer,” Emmey said.

“Well, he paid in advance, so it doesn’t matter.” Elizabeth walked to the bow of the ship as the ship slowly moved through the calm water. This trip had turned out better than she’d planned.

 

 

 

 

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Autumn Moments

Posted on October 1, 2014 by silaschampion

IMG_0794Now that it’s October, I am ready once again to celebrate the glorious season of Autumn, or fall as we call it in the U.S. In our plugged-in, air-conditioned, climate controlled world, fall still reminds us of both the glory and impermanence of our lives.

Modern life has isolated us from nature to a great degree, but the changing seasons still demand our attention. Fall especially beckons us with it’s brilliant colors and cooler weather. We rush outside with a pumpkin-spiced beverage in hand to enjoy the fall leaves. We feel refreshed by the cooler weather as we walk through an apple festival or some other faint reminder of an agrarian past. Everything is just right. The leaves explode with colors that seem too fantastic for nature. It’s like God got a new version of photoshop and is trying it out on everything. We can be outside without sweating or freezing. Life for a moment is perfect. It’s so awesome in fact we might even forget to take the obligatory fall seflie. Oh, who am I kidding of course we’ll take that selfie.

Fall doesn’t last long though. In a few days the leaves that are so brilliant start to fade. The air gets colder and they tumble to the ground. November brings cold rain and brief hints of the winter to come. Perhaps that’s why fall is so cherished because people know it will be gone soon.

Life is full of seasons as well. We all face times of pain and misery in our lives, but we also have periods of joy and celebration. Like fall, all the seasons in our life fade away. Sometimes that’s a good thing, at other times it brings sadness. The bittersweet truth of life is that things change.

I didn’t write this post to mourn that fact. I wrote it instead to encourage you treat the moments of your life like a beautiful fall day. Get out there and enjoy it. Savor those joyous seasons. Don’t get so caught up in tweeting about them that you forget to enjoy them. Let the world narrow down to just that moment as if nothing else existed. Push your cares and fears to the side for a bit and relish the wonderful season.

ForestMany of life’s best moments can never be repeated. The birth of a child, a wedding, a really good meal with friends. In today’s hyper-connected world we often get so obsessed with documenting these moments that we miss the experience. We are like a person who watches an entire concert on their cellphone instead of just letting the music wash over them. Take those fleeting moments of joy in your life and live them to the fullest. Don’t let tomorrow’s worries or yesterday’s regrets get in the way. The season will fade, enjoy it while you can. So grab a cup of your favorite beverage, put your phone down, and get out there and enjoy this fall. You can tweet about it later.

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Based On a True Story

Posted on August 22, 2014 by silaschampion

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The picture above is a cairn of stones placed at the site of the Appin Murder. It is located in the beautiful Scottish Highlands not far from Glencoe. This is the place where Colin Campbell was murdered in 1752. The man who was hanged for the crime was most likely not guilty. According to legend, members of the Stewart clan know the identity of the murderer but keep it a secret to this day.

The forest from whence the bullet came.

The forest from whence the bullet came.

The murder became part of Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel Kidnapped. In it, the young protagonist is present at the murder and presumed to be an accomplice. This did not happen but it makes for a great story. Of course, Kidnapped is not intended to be historically accurate. Stevenson acknowledges this fact at the beginning of the book and lists several places where he takes liberties with historical events.

Countless authors have based their stories on history. A lot of movies purport to be based, or inspired by, true events. Many, like Stevenson, freely acknowledge their poetic license. Words like “based on” and “inspired by” allow a lot of leeway. Some authors try to stick very close to what happened. The book Killer Angels is a good example. It tells the story of the Battle of Gettysburg and while it is a work of fiction it is told from the point of view historical characters. It also follows the historical events closely.

Other books, like Kidnapped, simply use historical events as a place to start a fictional story. Even those that stick closely to history will sometimes change things in some way to suit the story. They might combine distinct events into one, or have their character do something that somebody else actually did. Movies make even more changes since they have to tell a story in two hours. Of course, adding romantic elements is also standard practice. Some people are quite disappointed when they learn that movies and books have altered what actually happened.

I don’t mind because if we want to know what happened we can read a history book. Most authors of fiction do not claim to be writing history. Fiction gives us something else. If it’s done right, it gives us the “what it was like” experience. We get a small taste of what it was like to experience Gettysburg. It’s a window into the emotions and experiences of people who lived long ago.

Once I went to a civil war reenactment. As I watched the boys in blue march across the field, I got a glimpse into the past. Was it exactly what happened? Probably not, but it was a way to connect with people who lived long ago. In a way good historical fiction is a reenactment of the past. Not the events so much, but the emotions and dreams of people who came before us. It is more than that of course because it is work of imagination, but as we read it we make a connection with the past. Good fiction bridges the generation and helps us see ourselves in another time. Find a good historical fiction. Travel through time without leaving your seat.

Read about the Appin Murder here. 

 

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Better Late Than Never

Posted on August 4, 2014 by silaschampion

I recently participated in a twitter chat called The Road Less Traveled. Every week it brings together travel enthusiasts under the hashtag #TRLT. This last week I shared a bit about some of my travels in China and I thought I would share them here as well. In the process I might also be able to right a wrong.

Back in the late ’90s I spent a year in China. I managed to see several sights during that time, but one of the most memorable was the Three Gorges of the Yangtze River. The Yangtze River flows from the mountains of Western China to the ocean. It is a wide river in the eastern side of China, but it narrows in the west and runs through some spectacular scenery. Now there is a dam across the Yangtze which has widened the river considerably, but when I was there it was narrow and rocky. Sheer cliffs rose up on each side. It was magnificent.

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Although I had been in China for about five months, my knowledge of Chinese could charitably be described as sketchy. I could understand a few words, but most of the time I had no idea what anyone was saying. For example,  when I bought the tickets in Chongqing all I really understood was the price and the city where I would get off the boat. The next morning the boat stopped and everyone got off. One of the men I shared a room with waved me forward. We came to a place where a girl with a megaphone waited. As it turned out, I had bought a package which included guided tours whenever the boat stopped.  These guided tours consisted of me following the group around understanding nothing but, “You may now take pictures.”

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The river cruise lasted five days. It was relaxing and  beautiful even though the ship wasn’t exactly luxurious. I will spare you those details. I was the only foreigner on the boat meant that a lot of people wanted to talk to me. My limited language ability made most of these conversations short and frustrating. Still, by the end of the cruise everyone on the boat accepted me as the resident lao wai (foreigner) and I suppose they enjoyed my company.

Enough about me though. I’ve got a wrong to right. On the last day of the cruise one of the tour guides asked if she could take a picture with me. This was nothing new. People would often ask this question. It was weird when it first happened, but I learned to roll with it. I usually just pretended like they were a long lost friend or something. It gave me a tiny taste of a celebrity’s life, I guess. This girl gave me her address and made me promise to send her a copy of the picture. This was back in the days of film cameras. Some of you younger readers might need to Google that.

I gave her my word that I would mail her a copy. She must have asked me three or four times. Each time I promised I would and I really meant to. I had great intentions, but somewhere between leaving the boat getting the pictures developed I lost her address. That’s right: I lost it and she never got her picture. I felt terrible but there was no way to right my wrong. I can post the picture now, though. So here you are, Chinese girl whose name I never knew. Here is the picture, and I’m sorry I lost your address.

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Maybe it’s for the best. I mean, it’s not like I’m anybody famous. It’s just a guy in a Cabelas shirt and plaid shorts. Still, I wish I could have sent it. It’s funny how this problem would never occur today. We could have just used her cell phone.  At least now I can post it, better late than never.

If you want to know more about The Road Less Traveled, click on the names below. You will get some great stories and meet some interesting people.

Savannah Grace

Shane Dallas

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Subtle Beauty

Posted on July 12, 2014 by silaschampion

IMG_1855 There’s nothing better than a summer road trip. The road may lead to the beach, the mountains, or a loved one’s front door. No matter where it goes, though, it leads to great memories. People travel for many reasons. Some like to shop, some like see historic sites, some visit friends. Many people travel simply for beauty. Travelers flock to national parks, seashores and forests to look upon stunning scenery.

These places hold a majesty that sticks with us long after the vacation is over. I suppose my favorite traveling brings me to places like these.

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There’s a more subtle beauty though, that can be found almost anywhere. It’s found in the ripples on a small pond or the graceful bend of an old tree. Perhaps they don’t have the awe-inspiring grandeur of sea cliffs but there’s a quiet grace to them. The gentle clouds in the vast expanse of a prairie sky don’t shout like a waterfall. They simply wait patiently for us to notice them.

IMG_2013Often we don’t see this subtle beauty unless we look for it. It’s easy to miss as we rush down the freeway. In all the hustle and bustle of the summer take a moment to find the subtle beauty around you. Stop and actually smell the roses. Watch some ducks swim across a pond. Admire the wind rippling through the grass. Happy Summer, everyone. What is your favorite subtle beauty?

 

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On Edinburgh

Posted on June 28, 2014 by silaschampion

I haven’t posted anything for a while but this time I actually have a good excuse. I’ve been traveling through Ireland and the United Kingdom. I enjoyed my holiday, as they say over there, but it’s good to be home as well.

DSC_0484I thought I would write a bit about some of the sights and so today’s post will focus on the city of Edinburgh. Edinburgh is a charming city and I didn’t get to spend nearly enough time there. It has wonderful, narrow streets that wind through the old part of town and a marvelous view from Edinburgh castle. The castle itself is full of history and a great place to spend a few hours.

Edinburgh has a long association with famous authors. Robert Louis Stevenson, Walter Scott, and Robert Burns among them. More recently J.K. Rowling penned “Harry Potter” in one of the local coffee shops. A few of you may have read it.

DSC_0501The people of Edinburgh were warm and friendly. They seemed happy to share their city with travelers from all over the world. If you go, make sure to stop at The Piemaker. The Haggis pie was awesome. Yes, I know what haggis is made from but it was still awesome. Overall, Edinburgh was probably my favorite city of all those I visited on my trip. Do yourself a favor and check it out sometime.

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Captain Elizabeth and the Sea Monster

Posted on May 22, 2014 by silaschampion

Here is a short story I wrote for the children of a friend of mine. Hope you enjoy it as well.

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Captain Elizabeth and the Sea Monster

By Silas Champion

Captain Elizabeth was the bravest captain to sail the seven seas. Of course, there were some who said a girl shouldn’t be a captain, but she just laughed at them and sailed away. Others thought they could take her ship, but after they heard the thunder of her cannons and felt the bite of her sword, they were the ones who sailed away. They didn’t sail away laughing though.

♠♠♠

Captain Elizabeth sat in a pub eating some tasty chicken while her first mate Emmey devoured some fried shrimp.

“We need some money, Captain.” Emmey popped another shrimp into her mouth. “The crew is restless.”

“I know, I know. I’ll find something soon.”

“Well, you better hurry. The crew will start causing trouble if we don’t.”

Captain Elizabeth rubbed her brow. “I don’t need you to tell me things I already know.” Just then, a grubby man in a tattered red uniform stood and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you ladies.” He walked over to the table. Emmey put her hand on her pistol. Elizabeth shifted in her chair so she could reach her sword easily. The man stopped by the table and adjusted his tattered uniform.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I heard you need some money.” He leaned in closer. “I know of a treasure that can be had.” He put his hands on the table. “I need a ship, though. You look like seafaring folk. Do you know of a ship?”

“We might.” Elizabeth put her foot on a chair and pushed it away from the table. “Why don’t you tell us about your treasure.” Emmey kept her hand on her pistol. The man sat down and put his elbows on the table.

He licked his lips again. “There’s an island not far away where there is treasure enough to make us all rich.” He looked over his shoulder. “I just need a ship to get me there. I know right where it is.”

“So you need us to take you there to steal it,” Elizabeth said.

“No, no, not steal it. Dig it up. I’m not a thief.” He looked over his shoulder again.

“So it belongs to you, then.”

“Well if it is buried it belongs to whoever finds it, right?  It was stolen by pirates, but a sea monster forced them to land on this island. They had to bury their treasure.” Now with your ship we can go get it back without any trouble.”

“Let’s go back to the part about the sea monster,” Emmey ate another bite of shrimp. “That seems like something important.”

The man licked his lips again. “Yes, the island is guarded by a nasty sea serpent that destroys all ships that come near.”

“I have no interest in getting my ship destroyed by a sea monster.” Elizabeth stood. “Sorry, my friend. I don’t care for sea serpents.” The man grabbed her arm. Elizabeth looked into his eyes.

“You better let go of my arm if you want to keep your hand.” The man let go and stepped back two steps.

“Sorry, sorry. Don’t go. I know the secret to get past the monster.” He put his hands together. “If you play the flute the monster will not attack you.”

“Do you play the flute, mister?” Elizabeth said.

The man smiled. “No, I do not, but I have a friend that does. All I need is a ship.”

Elizabeth looked him over then looked at Emmey. Emmey shrugged.

“Okay, Mister …“ Elizabeth paused.

“Bill. Just call me Bill.”

“Okay, Bill, we sail with the morning tide. Be there with your flute player. We’ll work out the details onboard.”

“Be where? What’s the name of your ship?” The man grinned widely, revealing his many missing teeth.

“It’s the Fighting Turtle down at the end of the dock. See you tomorrow.” Elizabeth pointed. The man smiled.

“We’ll be there.” He bobbed his head and walked away.

“I think he’s lying.” Emmey watched the man. “He’s hiding something.”

“I agree, but we’ll see how this goes. We don’t have anything else happening at the moment.” Elizabeth put some coins on the table for their meal. “Go down and tell Phoebe and Jon to get in more supplies. I’ll follow this guy and see where he goes.”

“Okay.” Emmey paused. “You know I can play the flute too, right?”

Elizabeth grinned. “I know, but there’s no reason he needs to know that.”

Emmey walked to the ship. Phoebe met her at the dock.

“Are we sailing anytime soon? I’m ready to go.” She fidgeted on the gangplank.

“We are sailing tomorrow. Make sure we have plenty of gunpowder for the cannons.” Phoebe was in charge of all the weapons on the ship.

Phoebe clapped her hands. “About time. We’ve been here too long.” She scurried away to check on her precious cannons.

“Jon! Logan!” Emmey bellowed. In a moment Jon appeared. “Make sure we have enough supplies for everything. We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

“But I don’t have everything fixed yet. We shouldn’t sail if everything is not fixed.” Jon was the ship’s carpenter, and he liked his ship to be perfect.

“Well we don’t have time for that. You’ll just have to do the best you can,” Emmey said. “Where’s Logan?” She didn’t wait for an answer but shouted again, “Logan!”

“I’m right here.” Logan stepped out on deck and nearly tripped over a mop bucket.

“Help Jon get the ship ready,” Emmey said. “I’m going to make sure the Captain is okay.”

“Alright.” He said. Logan was the navigator but helped Jon when he needed to. Emmey walked back into town and found Elizabeth walking down the road. She had an angry look on her face.

“He’s got a ship,” she said. “I saw him go onboard a ship.”

“Why does he want us then?”

“I don’t know, but he’s up to something. Somehow I don’t think he plans on sharing his treasure with us.” They walked back to the ship.

They sailed from the dock in the gray light of dawn. Logan took the helm as they steered out of the harbor. Elizabeth stood behind him as Emmey walked around shouting orders at all the sailors. Everything went smoothly except for a small argument between Phoebe and Jon about where to place a cannon.

Bill and his flute player, a short, chubby man with an enormous beard, paced the deck nervously as they left the harbor.

“So why are we sailing wherever this guy wants us to go? That doesn’t make much sense,” Logan said.

“Well, he says there’s lots of treasure there, and we need treasure, unless you have a better idea.”

“But how do we know we can trust him? What if he leads us astray?” Logan turned the wheel a bit.

“We don’t, but it’s a chance we have to take. Now stop asking so many questions.” Elizabeth took a cup of tea that Harry, the cabin boy, brought out from her cabin.

They sailed for three days without any trouble. Jon thought he spotted a ship following them, but he couldn’t be sure. On the morning of the fourth day, a ship flying a black flag sailed up out of the dawn. Elizabeth looked at the man and his companion, but they seemed as nervous as her crew.

“Ahoy the ship,” shouted a voice from the black-flagged vessel. “Prepare to be boarded.” An ugly roar went up from the pirates.

“You’ll have to catch us first, you filthy scum,” Elizabeth shouted. “Trim the sails.” Her crew sprang to work and the chase was on. All day long the pirates chased them across the vast ocean, but despite its name, the Turtle was a fast ship. The pirates got close, but they could never quite keep up.

“Why don’t you stop to fight them?” Bill watched the ship get closer.

“They’re bigger and they have the wind. If you are that anxious to die, I can throw you overboard,” Elizabeth said. The man didn’t ask any more questions. As evening came on, dark clouds gathered over the horizon.

“Sail into the storm, Logan.” Elizabeth pointed.

“But the ship can’t hold up,” Jon protested. “She’ll be damaged.”

“She can make it. It’s the only way to lose them.” They sailed into the storm. Huge waves crashed around the ship, lighting struck all around them. Several times, waves washed right over the deck. The crew struggled against the storm for hours. Just when they were about to give up hope, the waves grew smaller and the clouds blew away.

“Give me a report, Jon,” ordered Elizabeth. Jon and Logan checked the ship. Phoebe inspected the gunpowder.

“It’s pretty battered, but we can sail,” Jon reported, and sail they did, all through the night. Early the next morning, the lookout spotted a tiny island in the distance. Elizabeth looked at the two passengers.

“We are here. Where’s the monster?”

“I don’t know; hopefully we won’t see him,” Bill looked nervously around. The bearded man just shrugged and played the flute. Everyone kept watch for the monster. Emmey and Logan walked the deck with their rifles while Phoebe made sure all the cannons were ready to fire. They were almost to the island when Harry spotted big fins sticking up out of the water.

“Look, over there!” He pointed. The fins got larger and large. Then a huge, scaly back broke the surface of the water.

“Ready the cannons!” Phoebe shouted.

“Don’t fire until I give the word,” Elizabeth ordered. The monster’s huge head came up out of the water. Everyone licked their dry lips and gripped their weapons tighter.

“Look, it’s asleep.” Logan pointed. Sure enough, the monster’s eyes were closed. Its mouth was open, revealing huge, nasty teeth. A loud snore came out through its huge snout. Everyone on board watched as it swam right past the ship, snoring the whole way.

“Well, I’ve never seen anything like it,” Elizabeth shook her head in wonder.

“We better hurry,” Bill said. “He won’t sleep long.” They sailed the ship close to the shore. Jon and Logan lowered the lifeboat.

“Phoebe, you and I will go ashore with these men.” Elizabeth ushered the two passengers toward the boat. “The rest of you get things fixed up.” She waited until the men got into the boat then she turned to Emmey. “You know the plan.”

“I’ve got it.” Emmey nodded. “You be careful.” Elizabeth and Phoebe climbed in after the two men and they rowed to shore. When they reached land the men jumped out and surged ahead.

“Hold on there, mister.” Elizabeth put her hand on her sword. “I’m coming with you.”

“Of course, of course.” Bill bowed. The bearded man picked up a shovel.

“Stay here with the boat,” Elizabeth ordered Phoebe. Then she followed after the men. The moment they were out of sight, Phoebe left the boat and ran up a worn trail to the top of a hill. Harry crawled out from under the tarp and followed after.

When they reached the top of the hill, Harry climbed a tree. Phoebe stood behind the tree, holding one of Jon’s hammers.

“Elizabeth was right.” Harry shouted. “The ship is on the other side of the island. Here come a bunch of men.” He counted. “There are ten of them.”

“Just hoot like an owl when they get close.” Phoebe lifted her hammer. Harry watched the men struggle up the steep hill. They had to spread out in a single file line to pass between the two trees. Harry hooted. The first man stepped through the trees and Phoebe whacked him on the head with the hammer. He dropped to the ground, unconscious. Harry hooted again, and the second one joined his friend on the ground. It went on like this until all ten men lay stacked up like firewood on the ground.

“Nice work, Phoebe.” Harry climbed down from his tree.

“Like shooting fish in a barrel,” Phoebe patted the hammer. They left the men there and walked back down to the boat. There they met Captain Elizabeth and the two men who were carrying a huge trunk between them. Everyone arrived at the lifeboat at the same time. The two men looked nervously up the trail.

“Oh, are you waiting for your friends?” Phoebe asked. “They all fell and hit their heads. Don’t worry. They’re fine, but they’ll probably have a headache when they wake up. Don’t talk too loud.” She grinned. The men’s eyes widened.

“I think you two should just set the trunk in the boat and go check on your friends.” The two men turned to see Elizabeth pointing a pistol at each of them. Phoebe pointed hers at them as well. They licked their lips then carefully put the trunk in the boat.

“You won’t get away with this.” Bill looked like he’d swallowed a giant lemon. “Our ship will pick us up and we’ll catch you.” They backed away from the lifeboat.

“Maybe, but not if the sea monster gets them first.” Elizabeth kept her pistol pointed at them.

“The monster is asleep,” the bearded man snarled.

“Perhaps, but what if there’s another monster?” Elizabeth grinned.

“There’s only one monster,” Bill shouted.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

♣♣♣

Out in the ocean, the sailors on the other ship started shouting as a huge, ugly lump broke the water and came straight at the ship.

“The monster’s back. The monster is back. Play the flute!” someone shouted. Everyone started shouting and running around.

“Shut up!” another bellowed. The flute music started, but the monster roared and just kept coming.

Inside the monster, Logan pulled at the oars. Sweat trickled down his back. That’s right, it wasn’t a monster at all but a wooden boat built to look like one.

“How much further?” Logan asked. He and three other sailors kept rowing. Jon and Emmey sat in a compartment inside the fake monster’s head.

“Not far.” Jon watched through a tiny hole in the mouth. “Give them a roar, Emmey.” Emmey shouted into a long tube. The sailors heard a loud roar as the sound came through the strange tube. This threw them all into a panic and they milled around frantically.

“Fire the cannons,” someone shouted. Cannons thundered and cannonballs smashed into the fake monster. Every one of them bounced off and skipped across the sea.

“You’re sure this will hold?” Logan winced as another cannonball slammed into the side. It sounded like thunder.

“Of course, it will hold,” Jon said. “Probably, mostly.” Three more cannonballs bounced off the sides then Jon held a candle in front of a long tube. Fire shot out of the tube and out the mouth of his wooden monster. The sailors on the ship shouted in fear as the flame flared out for one whole minute.

“Trim the sails, let’s be gone,” a voice thundered after some more roaring and another blast of fire. In a few minutes, the ship picked up speed and sailed away. They followed for a while to make sure they were really leaving. Then they turned their monster around.

As they rowed back around the island they heard loud splashing behind them. Emmey opened a small door in the top of their monster boat and looked out.

“Uh, row faster guys, the monster is awake. He’s swimming right toward us.” They rowed as hard as they could but the monster swam much faster. After a few moments he slammed into the boat. Emmey scrambled to find her flute.

“He’s trying to kill us,” Jon said.

“No, I think he just wants to play.” Emmey looked for her flute in the dark monster-boat. The creature slammed into it again.

“He’s going to play us to death.” Logan rowed a little faster. Emmey found her flute and started playing. After a few more scary minutes, the creature fell asleep again. As the sun rose, they met the Flying Turtle. All of them were happy to climb out of that cramped, leaky vessel and get back on the ship.

“You got the money?” Emmey asked.

“Yep, we got it.” Elizabeth pointed to the chest sitting on the deck. Phoebe was busy smashing the lock with her hammer.

“What about those two guys?” Logan asked.

“They looked like they could use an island vacation.” Elizabeth smiled. “So you scared off his ship?”

“Just like you said,” Emmey put her hat on. “They sailed away. What I don’t understand is that if he had his own ship why did he need us?”

“I don’t think he was sure that the flute would put the monster to sleep so he wanted it to attack our ship first. Then his other ship could sail in and get the treasure.

“That’s a stupid plan.” Emmey watched Jon and Phoebe argue over the best way to open the treasure chest.

“He seemed like a stupid man,” Elizabeth said. “Come on, let’s sail away. Hoist the sails.” Orders were shouted and the Flying Turtle flew over the waves. Dolphins leapt joyously beside the boat as they sailed into the rising sun.

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Amadine

Posted on May 2, 2014 by silaschampion

Dear Writer’s Voice

Thanks for considering my upper MG Fantasy, Amadine, complete at 45,000 words.

All her life, twelve-year-old Amadine has wondered who she is. When bloodthirsty assassins invade her forest home she learns that she is the rightful heir to the throne of Vandalia. Determined to regain her father’s kingdom, Amadine hides her newfound identity and undertakes a dangerous journey back to what should be her realm. Once there she discovers that regaining a throne is a complicated task. The man who sits in her place is a kind and generous ruler and the people seem to love him. She has no armies to command and no idea how to lead them.

Her only hope lies in getting a powerful, magical creature named Edric to honor his oath to her family, but Edric lives far away and he cannot be trusted. A vicious horde invades from the north throwing the kingdom into turmoil. In the midst of the chaos Amadine journeys to Edric’s cave. Edric only owes her one favor. If she asks him to help her regain her throne, the kingdom will be at he mercy of the horde. If she asks him to stop the horde then she has no way to become queen. Before she can make this decision though, she must survive her encounter with Edric.

Amadine is written for young readers who enjoy books like the Ranger’s Apprentice series. It tells the story of a girl carving out her place, sometimes literally, in a hostile world. Thanks for your time. I look forward to your response.

Silas Champion

silaschampion@gmail.com

Amadine sat at the mouth of her cave, watching sunlight sift down through the leafy branches of her prison. It was a forest, actually, but today it felt like a prison. Sighing, she smashed the small berries in her bowl with a blunt stick.

“Have you finished yet?” Magan shouted from the fire, where she stirred a foul-smelling liquid in a pot. The fire illuminated Magan’s wrinkled face and crazy bird’s-nest hair.

“Almost.” Amadine smashed the berries again.

“Stop daydreaming and hurry up, or you’ll spoil it.” Magan stirred the pot again. “I hope you pay more attention when you are about in the forest. The trolls will eat you for sure if you’re just walking around daydreaming.”

“I’m done, I’m done.” Amadine stood and carried the wooden bowl across the cave. “They haven’t got me yet.”

“That is true, child, but you roam further now. You must keep your wits about you.” Magan inspected the berries. “What is causing you to be so distracted?”

Amadine watched Magan pour the almost black juice into the liquid. “Nothing.” She couldn’t tell Magan she wanted to leave the forest. She had done that before and the old woman had raged and clucked for two days.

“There.” Magan stood back with a satisfied smile. The liquid turned purple and bubbled. Amadine wrinkled her nose at the smell. It wasn’t the worse thing that Magan had cooked today, though. Magan’s philosophy was that the worse it smells the better it is for you.

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Coming soon

Posted on May 2, 2014 by silaschampion

Keep an eye out. Later today I will post an excerpt from a novel I’m working on. This is for a contest, I’ve entered.  I will also be posting a query letter which is a cover letter about my novel. Wish me luck.

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