LipsterLeo

Rain is pelting down Rivers rise above their banks In pastures, Cows flee Rivers are engorged Roads closed, there is no escape No more time to run

“Daddy, we’re hungry.” “Yes, Father. We’re all hungry. Where have all the game animals gone?” “I don’t know, pups. I don’t know.” Two-hundred years after the Great Wizard War and the Time of Changing, drought and famine came to stalk the Midlands like a ravenous, fiery dragon. The wolf clan was especially hard hit. Wolves were a hunter-gatherer people. The game animals they relied on for food had either starved, migrated north across the Copper River and into the lands beyond, or into the Stormy Mountains where grazing was more available. Out of desperation, one wolf father called out to his creator, the great wizard, Thurin. “O great wizard. It’s me, your humble servant, Ashtail. Help us, O Thurin. Our young ones are starving. We need your help. We call upon you, lest your people die.” Ashtail, my beloved. When called, you must go. I have prepared the way for you. In the alpha’s village of Wapasha, an emergency meeting was called. All the elders and members of the clan, both

* To the tune of Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow! O the weather outside is yucky Not fit for a rubber ducky The weather ‘round here’s a pain Let it rain! Let it rain! Let it rain! It doesn’t show signs of stopping But through the puddles I’m slopping To the store for more beer I go Oh, no! Now it’s snow! Now it’s snow! When I finally get back home My recliner feels oh so good The fireplace keeps me warm My ex left her Norwegian wood. Well the weather outside’s disgusting And the wind has started gusting But I’m done waterproofing my door So Let it pour! Let it pour! Let it pour!

Epilogue It was around the time of the midsummer festival, a year after the Battle of the Bear. High summer in Willow Valley was that brief time between the hard work of planting and harvest. An opportunity for farm families to relax and reconnect with each other. At this time of year especially, Percy Possum’s inn, The Horn and Flagon, was a very popular place among the citizens of the Valley. Particularly the males. The inn sat across the dirt road from Farmer Ferguson’s market. The market, the inn, and the blacksmith’s shop and stables, anchored the tiny village of Hare Hall, which sat a mile up the main road from the mouth of the valley and the Red River. All species of higher creatures crowded the inn. For some, it was for company and fellowship. Others popped in for a quick mug while their mates did the shopping in the market. Farmers came in while they waited for their ponies to be shod by the blacksmith next door. Occasionally, travelers through the valley would stop for a

“Where does milk come from?” The farmer asked our first grade class on a field trip. Mostly suburban kids, I was the only farm kid. Shy and unassertive, I hid behind the group. "From a factory?" One asked. The cow stood munching hay. The farmer, with his bucket, began to milk her. Snickers from the crowd. "Ick!" “Does anyone want to try?” My buddy pointed at me. “He knows how–” The farmer handed me the bucket. At six, my hands were small. So was the cow. God’s perfect factory. After three squirts, the class went wild. The loser had become the hero.

Rain is pelting down Rivers rise above their banks In pastures, Cows flee Rivers are engorged Roads closed, there is no escape No more time to run

“Daddy, we’re hungry.” “Yes, Father. We’re all hungry. Where have all the game animals gone?” “I don’t know, pups. I don’t know.” Two-hundred years after the Great Wizard War and the Time of Changing, drought and famine came to stalk the Midlands like a ravenous, fiery dragon. The wolf clan was especially hard hit. Wolves were a hunter-gatherer people. The game animals they relied on for food had either starved, migrated north across the Copper River and into the lands beyond, or into the Stormy Mountains where grazing was more available. Out of desperation, one wolf father called out to his creator, the great wizard, Thurin. “O great wizard. It’s me, your humble servant, Ashtail. Help us, O Thurin. Our young ones are starving. We need your help. We call upon you, lest your people die.” Ashtail, my beloved. When called, you must go. I have prepared the way for you. In the alpha’s village of Wapasha, an emergency meeting was called. All the elders and members of the clan, both

Crash! The vase of flowers fell off the table to the floor. I watched in horror as glass, water, and flowers spread across the sparkling clean kitchen linoleum. “Tammy!” I shouted. “Why did you do that? You know Mom will blame me. Why did you?” “I want her to see me. I need her to see me.” Just then, Mom came into the kitchen and saw the mess. “Tommy! What have you done?” “Mom, I didn’t do it. It was Tammy–“ “You’re ten-years-old. You know better. Don’t make it worse by lying. Go to your room while I clean up your mess.” We were twins, Tammy and I. Sister and brother. We did everything together. I loved her very much. Two months ago she was crossing the street at the corner crosswalk and was hit by a speeding car. I miss her. A lot. Tammy was sitting next to me on the edge of my bed when Mom came into my room. Mom was crying. It broke my heart. “Tell her I’m here, Tommy. Tell her I’m back. Tell her I need her to see me.” “She can’t see you, Tammy,” I said. “She doesn’t

Writers, are you using animals of any kind in your fantasy stories? Are they anthropomorphic– animals with human characteristics? Or are they humans that have animal characteristics, such as werewolves or enchanted humans? If so, these animal characteristics need to be believable. You must bring them to life. Animal life, fauna, fall into three basic types. There are herbivores, animals that eat plants, carnivores that eat meat, and omnivores that eat both meat and plants. Not only are their eating habits different, but their character, life style and personalities are different. In order to make an animal character real, you need to get under its skin and into its head. Think as it would think, feel and react as it would under different situations. For example, canines (carnivores) live by their noses. That is why a canine socializes by “sniffing.” Does your wolf character smell an enemy, or does he see that enemy? Canines are predators; the position of their eyes gives them good

Critique - Under Heaven - written by Lonewolf-Sparrowhawk In some areas of this critique, you may think I’m rather blunt. Please don’t take offense. I like this story, and want to see it the best it can be. This is the same sort of critiquing I would receive on my work from my bi-weekly critique group. 1. I would like to answer your first question with a couple of comments. You start the story with a large info dump. This is important world-building information, but it could be spread out throughout the story. Info dumps without action can turn your readers off really quickly. There is no hook, nothing to grab the attention of your reader. Something to say to your reader, in the best Transylvanian accent, “You vant to know vhat happens next, don’t you!” I like to recommend a set of books by Mary Buckham entitled “Writing Active Hooks.” I have found them invaluable. You can get them as e-books on Amazon for around four bucks or less for both. (No, I don’t get paid for this