Liara's defense of the Wizard Nagarath has rendered Anisthe incantate--bereft of magick--but even this cannot guarantee her safety. Because the death of her father-in-magick would seal the girl's fate, necessity demands she and her wizard maintain a watchful eye on the war mage, while protecting her from his dark designs.
Anisthe has embarked on a journey across Europe, aided by his half-fey manservant with an agenda all his own. They search for a legendary mirror that contains the world's most powerful magick. Although the stuff of fairytales, the possibility of its existence compels Nagarath and Liara to seek the artifact themselves. Both know that should Anisthe lay claim to that power, Liara would be at his mercy and not even Nagarath could save her.
Thus, the pair find themselves at Versailles, surrounded by agents who ferret out magick users and destroy them. Uncertain who is friend and who is foe, with their rival on their heels, they must discover the mirror before Anisthe releases its evil, or worse, it lays claim to Liara's magick and brings doom upon them all.
Today I featuring an M . K. Wiseman guest post:
Ripples in a Pond: on Penning the Second Book of a Series
The first two books in the Bookminder series bear little resemblance to one another, quite frankly. They’re sisters blessed with different build, coloring, and temperament. Where The Bookminder would rather stay home cozy by the fire, The Kithseeker is borderline swashbuckling. And Fatewreaker*? She downright scares me with her darkness.
A quick note: the series itself is fully arced out. There are few surprises for me at this point (though I have found, even now, that my characters do like to have a bit of lead at times.) The only task left for me is the telling of the tale.
You’d think that after writing a good 100+k word novel, I’d have a handle on how to go about it. It’s make sense to think I can sit at the keyboard or grab pen and paper and just knock out a few thousand words if I’m having a good day and the Muse is feeling generous. In some ways, that is definitely the case. But the story itself? Utterly learned from scratch. Even with an outline and the necessary bounds that I have defined. For, as I said above, books 1 and 2 are different from each other as night and day.
The Good: I get to play again! Hemmed in as I am by the demands and limits of the outline and overall arc, I’ve been delighted to discover how much room I have to work. It’s been positively freeing. Honestly, working on book 2 reminded me anew of how much I love these characters and this story and, well, books in general.
The Bad: There’s a lot a lot to do when penning a book 2. There are new faces to introduce, new places and new stakes. But it all has to go seamlessly with all that came before. While also enriching what was already established. Which cannot, itself, stay static. Plus the research that comes from writing historical fantasy. And thinking ahead to book 3+ and making sure that the hooks are all there for later use. Did I say I had freeing? Well...
The Ugly, ahem, Process: In spite of the hand-wringing and heavy-sighing and woe-is-me-ing that I indulged in as I tried to take what I had already built and make it seem small by comparison to the Shiny New Thing I was creating, I enjoyed every bit of it. Agonized over it, sure. But reveled in it. For just as there is joy in creation, there is joy in growth. Progress forward, expansion upward and outward employs its own brand of creativity. Even if my own, personal tastes tend towards a cozy night by the fire and the as-yet-unfinished manuscript for book 3 still gives me the shivers. I suppose that I, like my characters, need to be pushed into discomfort every now and again. Through it, we grow.
*working title for book 3
Author Bio –
M. K. Wiseman has degrees in animation/video and library science – both from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Today, her office is a clutter of storyboards and half-catalogued collections of too, too many books. (But, really, is there such a thing as too many books?) When she’s not mucking about with stories, she’s off playing brač or lying in a hammock in the backyard of her Cedarburg home that she shares with her endlessly patient husband.
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