Minstrel into Japanese

 

Just clicked publish for the Japanese version of Minstrel of the Water Willow

For Erin he plays the most beautiful music

 

On the banks of a river, a boy sees and hears a girl laughing, the most glorious music, and falls in love. Time, however, is not the same for them. Erin is human; Kell is something other.

 Kell watches her from the shadows under the willow at the water’s edge, refusing to surrender to their differences. For Erin he plays the most beautiful music, for he may never speak to her and she cannot ever see him. Music becomes their words.

 Love, however, cannot measure time. The minstrel maintains his vigil; his muse listens for his song, and both move through the years alone, until the day something changes …

MINSTREL

Translating Minstrel ...

Many of you know I am originally from the tip of Africa. Grew up bilingual in both English and Afrikaans as first languages, but in recent years (er, decades!) I haven't spent much time with Afrikaans. That's changed a bit because I thought I'd try my hand at translating some of my short stories …

… and here's the first result! Pass the word to any Afrikaans folks you may know!!

Op die oewers van 'n rivier sien en hoor 'n seun 'n meisie lag, die heerlikste musiek, en word verlief. Tyd is egter nie dieselfde vir hulle nie. Erin is menslik; Kell is iets anders.

Kell bewaar haar uit die skaduwees onder die wilgerboom aan die waterkant, en weier om aan hul verskille toe te gee. Vir Erin speel hy die mooiste musiek, want hy mag dalk nooit met haar praat nie en sy kan hom nooit sien nie. Musiek word hulle woorde.

Liefde kan egter nie tyd meet nie. Die minstreel hou sy wag; sy muse luister na sy lied, en albei beweeg alleen deur die jare, totdat die dag aanbreek dat iets verander …

 

fantasie

romanse

sprokie

MINSTREEL

 

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Excerpt: Minstrel of the Water Willow - Marking Time

 

To step from shadows is to know light

  

Storms came and went.

A fire swept through the valley and annihilated great swathes of land. Many of the trees on the fringes of the forests all around succumbed, although the deep regions remained untouched. Drought was supreme for two summer seasons. The coldest winter in all memory followed.

Erin remained despite every tribulation. She had chosen to remove herself from her society. After the death of her daughter she lost all interest. He no longer cared much for his social circle either. The unhappier she became, the more he withdrew from others close to him, including his parents. Most days he hunkered, watching Erin. It was a senseless obsession, but truth was there was no Fay woman who drew him as much as she did.

While he was older than she was in years, he appeared far younger, and thus kept his distance. She would see him as a youth and would not understand the years already in his mind.

How utterly unfair. He wished he was human.

His music suffered. More correctly, his reputation as a minstrel suffered, for he rarely took to the circuit to play for others.

He played for Erin, softly, on the edge of hearing.

Kell watched her gradually regain her physical strength and her purpose for life. He saw how she tended her vegetables in the fields in view to him and noticed fat and healthy chickens roaming freely. She was successful at both growing and rearing and soon had excess with which to trade for other goods. Twice a month she loaded her small cart, and set off to market.

Often he would then head into the smaller villages and make music for his own keep.

When Erin turned forty, with fine lines at her eyes, he noticed how she gazed across the river as if sensing his presence when he merely watched her, when he made no lyrical sound. Was she as aware of him as he was of her? If she was, never did she say a word, although once or twice she did smile secretly.

His heart set up an uneven rhythm when she did so.

Many of the Fay moved into the highlands in those years, for more humans had entered the valley. His parents too chose to relocate, but he was determined to stay and thus took possession of his childhood home as his own. His mother was sad, reading in him the signs of unrequited love, knowing also the choice was his. He was considered adult among his kind.

Humans, however, would regard him as a youth.

On the banks of a river, a boy sees and hears a girl laughing, the most glorious music, and falls in love. Time, however, is not the same for them. Erin is human; Kell is something other.

 Kell watches her from the shadows under the willow at the water’s edge, refusing to surrender to their differences. For Erin he plays the most beautiful music, for he may never speak to her and she cannot ever see him. Music becomes their words.

 Love, however, cannot measure time. The minstrel maintains his vigil; his muse listens for his song, and both move through the years alone, until the day something changes …

MINSTRELMINSTREL

Love under a willow tree

 

MINSTREL

A Romantic Fairy Tale

 

On the banks of a river, a boy sees and hears a girl laughing, the most glorious music, and falls in love. Time, however, is not the same for them. Erin is human; Kell is something other.

 Kell watches her from the shadows under the willow at the water’s edge, refusing to surrender to their differences. For Erin he plays the most beautiful music, for he may never speak to her and she cannot ever see him. Music becomes their words.

 Love, however, cannot measure time. The minstrel maintains his vigil; his muse listens for his song, and both move through the years alone, until the day something changes …

MINSTREL OF THE WATER WILLOW

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Minstrel GIF

 MINSTREL OF THE WATER WILLOW

Chapter 1: Minstrel of the Willow Water

On the banks of a river, a boy sees and hears a girl laughing, the most glorious music, and falls in love. Time, however, is not the same for them. Erin is human; Kell is something other.

Kell watches her from the shadows under the willow at the water’s edge, refusing to surrender to their differences. For Erin he plays the most beautiful music, for he may never speak to her and she cannot ever see him. Music becomes their words.

Love, however, cannot measure time. The minstrel maintains his vigil; his muse listens for his song, and both move through the years alone, until the day something changes …

Chapter 1

 

Laughter is a bridge between strangers

  

Lines formed an intricate map upon her face.

She was old now, but to him she remained ever beautiful. He knew the reasons for her wrinkles, what she had endured in life. He had watched her since she was two years old.

Squatting under the willow where the fronds swept the surface of the placid river, he observed her kneeling with infinite care until she was able to reach the clear pond from where she drew her drinking water.

So slow now, when it felt like yesterday when she came squealing in happy abandon down to the water’s edge, honey ringlets bouncing.

She peered around as if expecting someone, but he knew she was alone here. She was not looking out for someone expected. She had been alone a long time.

He was the only one who watched, although she had never seen him. Sometimes, though, he had the clearest sense she was still aware of him, despite her withdrawal in recent years. She no longer concerned herself with living, only with dying, but in the past, when her step was sprightlier and her eyesight clearer, she would gaze across the expanse of the river directly into the shadows under the willow. Once she even summoned him; she had known he watched. She had not looked at his face, but she told him music meant everything to her.

He realised now she listened intently to the natural silence as if hoping to hear the notes of life itself.

Closing his eyes, he wished he had brought his small lyre to pick out gentle tones, to weave them into the birdsong surrounding them.

 

 

Eighty years ago he was himself a boy, splashing in the shallows in summer’s heat, when he heard the sound of laughter.

Instantly his mother dragged him into the trees beyond where the shadows were dense, abandoning the cones and twigs they had gathered for the hearth back home, but he saw her.

A little girl ran towards the river with her mother trailing after, admonishing her to slow down.

“Kell, be quiet now,” his mother had whispered in his ear, and he had not understood why.

He wanted to go to the girl. He wanted to laugh with her. She was so pretty and so happy, so bright, so new.

She was not as careful as her mother had warned her to be, and fell into the water. A tiny shriek of fear and surprise drifted across to him. His mother was forced to hold him back when he moved to go to her aid.

“Silly, look how wet you are!” Her mother, laughing, pulled her out. “Come on, silly, let’s get you home and dry. Are you hungry?”

They disappeared up the gentle slope towards the old cottage no one had lived in for many years. They held hands and laughed together as they went.

For a long time he thought her name was Silly.

The cottage was not in view of the river, but he had seen it once. In search of wild herbs, his father carried him across the river that day and they passed it by. It was pretty, but needed much care to make it a home again.

Later he realised her name was Erin.

That was the day she went and lost herself and her mother ran along the water’s edge frantically searching for her daughter, calling, “Erin! Erin, where are you?”

That was also the day his father yanked him forcibly into the shadows of the forest and told him never to return to the river, to leave the mother and daughter to their lives. He had already been to the water many times hoping to catch sight of her again, and he was told in firm words that he had proven himself too rash to wander unsupervised.

“She is lost!” he shouted at his father. “She will be scared!”

“Kell, she is human and we do not speak to humans. They may not see us. I will watch over her until she is found, but you will return home now.”

Thus was that also the day he realised he was something other. Not human.

It was the worst day of his life.

MINSTREL

Also in audio:

When change comes ...

 … time to post becomes scarce!

It's been busy for me, with a number of changes in my life, and this has kept me from regular posting. Sorry about that! Hoping to return to a more normal in the latter half of the year :)

On a writing and publishing front, here's the latest:

New translations, including my first Greek one!

Three others are currently in progress.

*

Book 2 of Lore of Sanctum will be available in audio soon.

*

The biggest news, however, is that I am now in the final stages of completing the first drafts to two books! You may recall that Ancient Terra's 4th book (Avaelyn) was in progress, but something happened - the book just grew longer and longer, until it went over 300 000 words. I decided to split it into two books, Avaelyn and Avior, which is in keeping with the rest of the series. They now near completion, and then the edits start! I will release them one after the other (around summertime) because the tale leads directly from one to the other. Here are the two covers (they may still change, though):

Chat again soon :)

Update and apology

Hello, everyone! Let me start with saying I'm sorry it has been quiet here. I have missed posting with regularity, but there have been good reasons :) Those reasons form part of the update as stated in the title. Firstly, four new translations, two of which are now complete and published (still waiting on Amazon, though), two of which are in final stages.

(published)

(in progress)

While that was going on, I prepared my short story - G A B R I E L - from the Christmas anthology published in 2018 as a standalone, including a bonus chapter and epilogue. This has now been uploaded, and I'll post the blurb and link once it's live.

Besides other duties I simply couldn't ignore, AVAELYN; The Enshrouded World has seen some action. My intention was to have a first draft ready by year end and I put my shoulder to the wheel, so to speak. At 100k words, though, it's not near finished! Hopefully the Christmas break will offer more time to add to the story before editing can commence. Seriously, my characters are misbehaving, and I'm already thinking that the WIP cover I have will need to change to reflect that.

All in all, something had to give to keep up with so many tasks, and that meant social media and blog posts. Hopefully normal routines will resume shortly … then again, um, Christmas …

Speaking of Christmas, I do have some intriguing reads available!

Chat again soon :)

Minstrel of the Water Willow updated

 

New covers for shorter stories

These have now been updated as well :)

FINGERNALE TALES

LATTICEWORK

MINSTREL OF THE WATER WILLOW

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Minstrel's Portuguese version now available

 

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Also available from Kobo, Barnes&Noble, Apple and more.

Fresh off the press ...

 ... so to speak!

The Sleeper Sword is now in production, yay!

Minstrel of the Water is now added to translations, and is in progress.

And here's Avaelyn's current book cover. It may still change before we reach publication stage.

On the translations front ...

Behind the scenes, much work has gone into preparing translations.

Now available (Italian):

Amazon

Also available from Google Play, Apple, Kobo and more.

Currently in progress (Portuguese and Italian):