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The Kaladin Kickstarter Miracle

D975B160-EFE9-49CA-8167-54A99EAAAB6EFor those of you who do not know, I am a HUGE fan of fantasy author Brandon Sanderson. I own majority of his books, most of them autographed.

I discovered Brandon Sanderson while reading The Wheel of Time series by the late Robert Jordan. Brandon was hand picked by the authors wife (and editor) Harriet McDougal to finish the last book in the series (that ended up being 3 books: The Gathering Storm, The Towers of Midnight, and A Memory of Light).

The Stormlight Archive is one of his main fantasy series. The first book, The Way of Kings, is just amazing and is one of my favorite books. (By the way, my top three currently are: Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card, The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson, and Still Life with Crows – the fourth book in the Pendergast series – by Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child).

I felt like I deeply connected to one of the main characters: Kaladin. I identify with his feelings of failure and loss, and of inability to save those he cares about. His character at the same time continues to ‘protect those who can’t protect themselves’ with surprising results.

Last Month The Black Piper, with approval from Brandon Sanderson’s company Dragonsteel Entertainment, began a Kickstarter campaign for Kaladin: a Stormlight Archive Album + Art Book. They literally created motion picture quality soundtrack for the book The Way of Kings. The group had already spent three years making the first half the tracks for the album and where looking for $110,000 to create a 2 Disc soundtrack, and a companion Art Book by talented artists. The money would allow them to finish the album and record at the Abby Road studios in London and get someone to mix the album.

I talked to my wife about it. It took a couple weeks before I made my pledge for the $45 “the Lopen”. (a pledge level with a physical copy of the Soundtrack). After seeing the pledges slow down, it seemed to stagnate at around $60,000, I asked my wife if I could change my pledge. As my birthday present I was able to up my pledge to $120 “the Shallan” (a pledge level with a physical copy of the soundtrack AND the Art Book, plus $5 for an autographed copy). I posted all over Facebook about upping my pledge and asked for others to do the same.

I was excited but worried about pledge levels, I really wanted the album. I attended the first livestream, forgoing some sleep for work. It was wonderful and informative, despite the technical difficulties that plagued Sae Sae Norris one of the core of three creators of the project. I managed to win a digital version of the artwork by attending the livestream (sweet!) but the Kickstarter was still well short of it’s goal, hanging around $78,000 at the time I finally crashed and took a nap.

That night they announced a second live stream that coincided with the end of the Kickstarter. I wanted to watch but was so tired and needed to sleep before work. I didn’t sleep well because I was worrying about the Kickstarter not making enough for the project to be funded.

I went to work saddened thinking that the Project had fallen short of the $110,000 goal. Another thing I had hoped for was now gone. Just like Kaladin.

On my first break (at around midnight Pacific time) I looked at Facebook on my iPhone and there it was. Sae Sae had posted that they were FUNDED! They had made a huge push at the end and had made 102% of their goal! Wow! The amount of support from Sanderson Fans everywhere was truly amazing! It brought tears to my eyes and I got a little emotional (so what?, it was awesome!). It was like your basketball team coming from behind and hitting the three pointer, with nothing but net, to win the game. What could be more sweet? I just call it The Kaladin Kickstarter Miracle.

For more information about the end of the Kickstarter check out the following link: update #17 for Kaladin Kickstarter.

 

 

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Writing

Daily Writing – September 2017

I tried this last month and people seemed to like it so I’m back with more selections from my Daily Writing Journal. These are meant to be short 50 word or more blurbs to get myself in the writing mood. There is no form or continuity to the blurbs, they are just random thoughts from my brain to the keyboard. Enjoy!

9-1-2017

Blood pooled on the floor of the observation deck, collecting the droplets that fell from above. The body hung from the scaffling wrapped in a canvas tarp like a butterfly in a cocoon. The bottom of the tarp, where the body had shifted, was stained crimson.

One of the workmen had found the body after he had returned from lunch. Now the authorities were on their way, sirens blaring. More time for the murderer to escape. More time for the murderer revel in his victory.

9-2-2017

Alan was pressed against the ship’s hull. Several of the ropes securing the cargo had become loose, sending wooden crates tumbling across the room. One of those crates had pinned Alan’s leg between one of the crates and the hull.

He felt a warm rush flood up his leg, a fire burning, spreading slowly though his body. His foot tingled and it felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds.

9-3-2017

If this was the best tavern in town, he should just give up now. There were over half a dozen nudgers prowling around the bar, some leaning against the stair’s railings, and others sat at tables trying to lure in the next mark. All he wanted was a drink.

One of then walked up to him and gave him wink and smile. This particular nudger, a woman in her thirties, though it was sometimes hard to tell. That line of work seemed to unnaturally age women, stealing their youth as well as their innocence. He always felt sorry for them, praying to the Almighty that he would protect them from the harm.

9-4-2017

Olan jerked away from the guards grasp and stumbled down the hall. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was that brat. That stupid little street urchin who rummaged through the garbage. What had he done now?

“Stop!” Called the Guard.

“I didn’t do anything! Go away!” Alan spouted as he loped down the old alleyway.

“We just want to talk to you!”

Talk! Ha! When did a copper ever just want to talk? They just wanted to blame him for something that urchin had done.

The guard stopped. He would come back eventually. Besides, he had the man’s coin purse that he’d dropped coming out of the pub. That little street urchin had found it and turned it in to him.

9-5-2017

There was nothing grander than a view from atop the Dock-tower as the sun was rising. Corim watched as the sun stretched itself over the horizon, the sunlight causing the distant storm clouds reflecting it’s orange glow.

Far below him few noticed the sunrise. The Docks were full and there were plenty of airships waiting to take their turn unloading. Dockworkers, unloaded ships at an astounding rate. Corim Smiled. This was how life was supposed to be. Tradesmen and merchants buying and shipping their wares, and Corim collected the docking fees.

9-6-2-2017

Light reflected off the cold grey of the gun barrel giving the snipers position away. A moment later a body fell from the roof of the warehouse, the corpse just missing a street vendor selling meat pies. There were screams as people noticed the body. Typical of these city folk.

He had found one assassin, but there were two more stalking. That could be just rumor but he didn’t think so…

9-7-2017

Maro Lonewolf watched the crowd gather at the base of the oak tree, the one that the locals called The Hanging Tree. As one would expect, this tree had been a favorite of local lynch mobs since before Maro could remember. Today would be no different.

One of the homesteaders had caught a burglar whom had broken into his home and attacked his wife. The husband had found the man, pulled the him off of his wife, and had beaten him until he’d quit moving.

Steampunk Costume

Steampunk Costume Design

I recently did a sketch of my idea for my Steampunk Costume. I used my first generation 12.9 inch iPad Pro, Apple Pencil, and Procreate app.

The gun on my back is the rifle I made earlier this year. You can see the Elite Aetheric Wave Disruptor Rifle Mark – 1 by visiting the menu link above.

Thanks for stopping by.

Uncategorized

Skin Trade Cover , Facebook, and Other Thoughts

Well another weekend has come and gone. Tonight I head back to grindstone, but before I do, I thought I would catch you all up on a few points of interest.

I have been working on a new angle for my novel and an very pleased by it. I’ll talk more about this in a future post. Here is a small teaser, the temporary cover art for “Skin Trade” my current fantasy/mystery writing project.

ST_COVER_2.png

I have made a Facebook Page for Arcane Gearsmith and you can check it out for yourself by clicking the link here or in the sidebar. (This is still in flux so please be patient).

Also check out my previous post “Daily Writing – August 2017”, there are more than a few good ideas there. They are meant to be short 50 word or more blurbs. There is no context, no reference, just the random thoughts put on a page.

That’s it for now.

– Michael

Uncategorized

Daily Writing – August 2017

One of the things we authors often forget to write about in our Blogs are the things the readers want. We tend to talk an awful lot about the art of writing and how we cope with different issues that commonly plague wordsmiths.

Well today I’m going to try something different. This Blog should satisfy both writers and readers. I started a Daily Writing Log a week or so ago and I am posting my results for all to read.

These are meant to be short 50 word or more blurbs. There is no context, no reference, just the random thoughts put on a page.

8-21-2017

If the boredom didn’t get Alfred the frostbite would. It was sparking freezing. He had been assigned to this guard post nearly a month ago and in that time the weather had gone from damp and cold to freezing and miserable.

Alfred laughed. The regiment had given him summer supplies. Summer! The quartermaster was probably either drunk or cleaning out his stock and had just given him the most easily accessible supply packs. Summer his ass! It was sparking freezing!

8-22-2017

Flames raced through the small window opening. The fire danced and moved to the currents of air, the flow of the wind, the trail of fuel for the fire. Greedily the flames leapt at the fresh source of life. Old dusty curtains, long dry and brittle, caught the sparks and within moments exploded into flame.

The old house was nothing but decaying wood and clay bricks, it would be enveloped by the fire, dined on by the hungry heat of the flames.

8-23-2017

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Darren scoffed. “You. You’re the problem! From the minute you got here all you’ve done is order us around. And we’re tired of it!”

Retu smiled. “Listen here dirtbag, I didn’t come down here, into this filth to be yelled at. I came to warn you of an attack. If you don’t want my help, fine.
You and your tunnel rats can die without me. I’ve got better things to do, like clipping my nose hair. Excuse me.” Retu turned walking back up the tunnel with out saying another word.

8-24-2017

Gwen’s head felt like it was going to break open. She was unable to move, tied to the damp stone altar with thick leather cords that cut into her wrists and ankles. Her head was immobile as well, fastened to the altar by a braided leather mesh. It was similar to a horses bridal, but much more rigid. There was even a wooden bit jammed into her mouth to prevent her hurting herself.

The water dripped again, smacking her in the middle of the forehead. Gwen counted to herself: One. Two. Three. She reached a count of thirteen and was struck by another drop of water. Again the counting. Again the drop. Over and over. How long had it been. She had counted the dripping water thousands upon thousands of times. Her lips were cracked and bleeding. Her mouth dry as a desert.

Gwen was weak. She could feel it in her bones. She wouldn’t last much longer. Then, a peace came over her, like a wave of comfort and warmth. Her body relaxed, the tense muscles resting after the strain. She knew had done it. She had passed the test. She knew she had saved her people.

8-25-2017

Enoch stood at the edge of the precipice, his life-force quickly fading away. His bare feet cold against the damp stone of the cliff. Streams of water rushed past his feet spraying jets of mist out into the abyss below.

They had told him not to look down. Trust the Elders. Jump. You will be safe.
Despite their assurances Enoch was terrified. Jump over the edge of the cliff? Where they mad? Why had he agreed to do this?

He looked over the edge. Blackness. The mist tumbled into the chasm and disappeared. If he fell that same darkness would consume him too. Panic rose in him, his body shaking in fear.

Then without provocation he remembered why he was here. With in moments he stopped shaking. His fear vanishing. Enoch closed his eyes and leapt into the abyss. He was at peace, floating through the air, knowing his mother would live with his sacrifice.

8-26-2017

Hokar crouched on a high limb of a runewood tree watching the pack of Jakk Wolves far below him. He had spotted the creatures while he was hunting along the deep forest game trail that he had found a few days ago. The trail lead to a series of small ponds fed from an underground stream. The wolves were slowly coming in behind the other animals, the pack spreading out like fan to prevent escaping prey.
Hokar knew that this is how The Wilds were. There were predators and prey. And he knew that he should not interfere with the Circle, no matter how much he wanted to. He was a Protector of The Wilds, not it’s nursemaid.

8-27-2017

Nefa sat on the mud brick roof, legs dangling care free over the side of her dwelling. This had been her family home for as long as she could remember. The narrow canyon walls were only a stones throw away. But the canyon was deceptive, like the coa snake, like her clan.

Lioc, the elder spirit had made this hidden valley for them. He had molded it from the land, shaping it with his will, and was given the blessing of the Mother Spirit. A gift to the Children of the Plains.

Nefa’s father, the clan elder had found this place. A place for his people to hide from the invaders, the thieves who plundered this land for their unseen King.

8-28-2017

Jero watched as the Elder traced the ancient symbols onto the sand covered ground. The first was Loic, Spirit of Safety. Next came Niku, the Mother Spirit, Spirit of Healing. Finally the Elder drew the symbol of Korak, the Spirit of Justice, and of Revenge.

Jero looked up to meet the eyes of the Elder. There was a twinkle of amusement in them. How had he known?

The elder smiled back at Jero. The Elder pulled a small leather pouch of crystal dust and a slowly covered the symbols. The Elder nodded to Jero.

Jero closed his eyes and began singing the song of Renewal. The Elder waited for the song to begin again then joined his raspy voice to the song.

8-29-2017

There was never enough time. The old man cursed looking over his shoulder. The crowd was coming closer. He had to escape.

The old man turned, stumbling down the dark alley and away from the angry masses. He moved with astonishing speed. The speed with which fear powered a man forward.

8-30-2017

Sara reached out toward her sister, desperately flailing her arms to break her restraint. “No!”

“Hold her, damn you! Keep her back!”

A scream tore through the air like thunder. Her sister’s scream full of anguish and pain.

“What are you doing to her? Animals!” Sara began to sob, still helplessly trying to pull away from her tormentor.

Murmurs rippled through the small crowd of people that were around her sister. Another scream. The crowd suddenly quieted.

A cry pierced the night. A sweet high pitched thing, that meant only one thing.
Sara Smiled. Her baby niece had finally arrived.

8-31-2017

Jena had to get away from this place. The stone walls, the stone floors, even the stone doors, disturbed her. She couldn’t stand it any longer.

There were dazzling tapestries to cover the damp walls, thick rich carpets to cover the cold floor, and and warm fires in stone hearths. None of these made her feel any better because she knew she could never leave.