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Posts Tagged ‘Lucy D. Ford’

When you read this, it will be Christmas Day. So here is my gift to you: a short story! I shared it on this very blog back in 2017. (If you’ve been following me that long, I hope you don’t mind the repeat.) The Winter Wish is one of my favorites, written for the byline Lucy D. Ford.

Here is Part 1 and here is Part 2.

Happy Holidays!


Have you read one of my books? Then it would be great for you to leave a review! Meanwhile, if you’d like to learn more about me and my work, check out my web siteFacebook, Instagram and/or Twitter.

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I’ve been sharing my process as I go through revisions on my children’s short story, “The Lonely Dragon.” Here is the second draft, and probably the last I’ll be showing you. It’s time to finish this thing up and let my lonely dragon fly to some publishers.


The Lonely Dragon, by Lucy D. Ford

A very long time ago, there was a dragon who lived high in the Skyclaw Mountains. Her silver scales barely shimmered, her lush mane was ragged, and her sharp horns had become blunt. Yes, the dragon was very old. She was also very lonely.

Sometimes people from the valleys down below would climb the rugged peaks and creep into her lair. They wanted to steal from her hoard. The dragon didn’t really mind. If she heard the sly crish-crish of footsteps, she would quickly set a trap.

Once the thieves were caught, they would tremble and cry. They thought the dragon was going to punish them. But as she grew older, the dragon had also grown wise. All she did was bring a pot of tea and ask about the goings-on in the valleys. Sometimes the people told her their problems, and she gave them good advice. When the tea pot was empty, the dragon would let them go back to their homes.

After a while, people stopped sneaking up the mountain to steal from the dragon. They just came to talk to her. She told them tales from long ago, and if they spoke about their problems, she still gave them good advice. Even mighty rulers came to seek the dragon’s wisdom.

Once, the dragon learned that two kings were about to send their armies to war. She invited them both to have tea with her. Instead of fighting, they signed a treaty. The dragon was glad that all the soldiers got to stay home with their families.

She was still very old, but she wasn’t lonely any more.


Have you read one of my books? Then it would be great for you to leave a review! Meanwhile, if you’d like to learn more about me and my work, check out my web siteFacebook, Instagram and/or Twitter.

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Last time, I shared a cold write from a group at my school. Today I’ll show you the true first draft, as I begin to expand and develop the themes. Here it is.


The Lonely Dragon, by Lucy D. Ford

A very long time ago, there was a dragon who lived near the top of a high mountain. Her silver scales barely shimmered, her lush mane was ragged, and her sharp horns had become blunt. Yes, the dragon was very old. She was also very lonely.

Sometimes people from the valley below would creep into her lair, hoping to steal from her hoard. The dragon didn’t really mind. As she grew older, she had also grown wise. When she heard the sly slip of footsteps, she would set a trap for them.

Once the thieves were caught, they would tremble and cry. They thought the dragon was going to punish them. But all she did was bring them tea and ask about the goings-on in those valleys down below. Sometimes the people told her their problems and she would give them good advice. When the tea pot was empty, the dragon would let them go back to their homes.

After a while, people stopped sneaking up the mountain to steal from the dragon. They just came to talk to her. She told them tales from long ago, and if they told her their problems, she still gave them good advice. Even mighty kings and wizards might come to seek the dragon’s wisdom.

The dragon was still very old, but she was no longer very lonely.

There’s still work to do here, but I like the way it’s coming together.


Have you read one of my books? Then it would be great for you to leave a review! Meanwhile, if you’d like to learn more about me and my work, check out my web siteFacebook, Instagram and/or Twitter.

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I’m up to 3,400 words on The Renegade Count. I managed 1,000 words at one go on MLK Day. Yamaya and Berisan are headed in the direction I wanted. It’s left me feeling a bit tapped out, though. So I’m taking a breather today.

However, I did receive the happy news of a sale. Aunt Ursula’s Atlas, one of my first self-published books. It’s a collection of my short work under the pen name Lucy D. Ford. So, what the heck — here’s a link! Maybe you’re looking for a new read, after all.


Have you read one of my books? Then it would be great for you to leave a review! Meanwhile, if you’d like to learn more about me and my work, check out my web siteFacebook, Instagram and/or Twitter.

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Yesterday was Christmas, so here’s a slightly late gift from my pen name, Lucy D. Ford.


Call Me King, by Lucy D. Ford

The farmhouse door slammed open, and little feet pounded down the rickety steps. A young voice yelled out, “Call me king!”

The farm wife glanced up sharply from weeding her cabbages. Nap time was always over too soon. She watched the boy run through the farm yard. A ragged blanket flapped behind him.

“Call me king!”

Chickens scattered, squawking, as the simple-minded boy slashed at them with a large tin spoon. The farm wife sighed to herself. She’d been so careful to pick up every stick from the yard. Naturally, the brat got into her kitchen drawer instead.

“Call me king!”

A spotted dog galloped after the boy, barking madly. It nimbly dodged a swipe from the spoon. The farm wife shook her head. The boy was lucky to have such a friend, but did he care?

“Call me king!”

She knelt to dig out a particularly stubborn dandelion root. The boy spotted her. He raced up, flailing the spoon at the air. Dirt flew as he skidded to a halt.

“Call me king!” He swirled his blanket, wild-eyed, wrapped in the game. When he grinned, a gap showed where one tooth was missing.

“Stop that. You’re getting dust in my eyes.”

He ignored her protest. “I am the king! Call me king!”

Slowly, firmly, she answered, “No.”

“Call me king!” he demanded yet again.

“No.” The farm wife reached out in a half-hearted attempt to reclaim her spoon. The boy pulled away, and she ended up rubbing his curly head, instead.

“I’m tired of this game,” she said. “There’s work to be done.”

The boy grabbed her wrist, his little fist sticky and tight. “You have to call me king!”

“Let go, please. What I have to do is finish the weeding.”

The boy held on tighter. A fierce, mad spark lit in his eyes. “Go to the dungeon,” he babbled. “I’ll chop your head off. I am the king!”

The farm wife lost patience. She stood up tall and stern. “Then you must call me witch!”

A cloud passed over them. The dog cowered and whined. The boy blinked, then jumped away. After a moment’s confusion, he jabbed the spoon at her.

“Aaah! There’s a witch here!”

He darted around the yard, seemingly with no aim in mind. For several minutes, the chant of “call me king” was replaced by “there’s a witch.” Barking dog and squawking chickens added to the cacophony.

The witch fumed as she turned to weeding the carrots with extra vengeance. It was a good thing none of the neighbors lived close enough to hear. They all understood that the boy was simple-minded, but you never knew when a label like witch might stick in the wrong ear.

After some time, the boy’s racing became more of a trot. He shook the tin spoon at the cow in its shed. “Go to the dungeon! I am the king!”

By then, the witch’s fury had given way to sorrow. Five years ago, she had abandoned her oath and committed a terrible crime. She had reduced an unhinged monarch to a squalling infant and stolen away with it. The sentence for her deed was this endless watch over her victim. A simple-minded child in a quiet farmyard could do little harm, even if he managed to hit you with a spoon. But a mad king was a peril to all the world.

“Call me king,” the tiny tyrant ranted. “I’ll chop your head off!”

Softly, she murmured, “And that is why I had to lay the curse upon you, King Liam.”


Have you read one of my books? Then it would be great for you to leave a review! Meanwhile, if you’d like to learn more about me and my work, check out my web siteFacebook, Instagram and/or Twitter.

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Many of us writers have a personal mantra, something we repeat to ourselves as a means of inspiration or a way to keep focused on work. You know, “butt in chair,” stuff like that. So today I’m sharing my mantra with you. Ready?

“Nobody Cares.”

This might seem pretty needy, a play for attention and reassurance. To me, it’s more like a declaration of independence.

Who are some of the people who might care about my writing? Editors, agents, random people on the Internet… You know them. The folks who are so ready to tell you you’re doing it all wrong. They swear that if you change your story and do it their way, you’ll find success on whatever terms they define.

The implication is that I should care about their opinions more than, say, my own goals and desires. I should ignore my writer’s instinct and the expertise that’s already helped me to finish a bunch of books and short stories.

But when nobody cares, I am free to write what I want. I don’t have to listen to people telling me it’s too long or too short, or that I have to to sex it up, or the bad guys have to die, or that I should follow a specific formula. I don’t have to include some annoying trope when actually I’m more about questioning those tropes.

So that’s my mantra: Nobody Cares. Except maybe some of you guys. 🙂


Have you read one of my books? Then it would be great for you to leave a review! Meanwhile, if you’d like to learn more about me and my work, check out my web siteFacebook, Instagram and/or Twitter.

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With most of the text revisions complete on The Ice Witch of Fang Marsh, I now turn to the book’s cover. First, I had to look through dozens of Shutterstock illustrations by my favorite artist, Tithi Luadthong. I want to have all the cover images for this series by the same hand. They just look like they belong together, that way.

After flagging 19 possible covers, I have it winnowed down to 6 finalists. While giving my brain a break from that, I’m also writing the cover copy. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

Meven is a renegade, hated and hunted by the cruel regime of master mage Dar-Gothull. Her desperate desire is to lose herself in the treacherous Fang Marsh. Only there can she live the life she wants, in freedom and safety. To reach her goal, Meven must sneak through the town of Eshur, where her old enemy, the wicked Countess Ar-Torix, commands dozens of spies and guards. It should be no problem!

What Meven doesn’t know is that she’s already being tracked. Ozlin was thrown out because of his emerging magic. Now he’s starving on the streets of Eshur. Caught stealing, he’s about to be imprisoned in a brutal temple school.

Until Meven recognizes his power and intervenes. Suddenly she has a new, desperate desire — to save this mageling boy, and maybe save herself, as well.

What do you think? Is it too short, too long, too detailed, too vague? I’d love to hear your suggestions!


Have you read one of my books? Then it would be great for you to leave a review! Meanwhile, if you’d like to learn more about me and my work, check out my web siteFacebook, Instagram and/or Twitter.

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Coming up in June, this humble blog will host Queen Titania’s Court, a celebration of fantasy books. The setup is that Titania, Queen of all Faeries, summons magical people and beasts from every corner of the fantastic world to join her for a grand ball on Midsummer Night.

I won’t compare myself to the Queen of all Faeries, but I do extend this invitation to any and all fantasy writers, especially to independent authors. Pick ONE character from ONE of your books. Each day in the month of June, I’ll feature one author’s book. We’ll all have fun sharing our stories.

Credit where credit is due — this event is inspired by the great indy horror writer, Teri Polen, whose Bad Moon Rising book event runs through the month of October. I sincerely thank Teri for her generosity and support when I asked if I could emulate her event.


This is where I try to anticipate your questions.

First, who can participate? If you write fantasy, YOU can join in! Children’s fantasy, urban fantasy, high, low, traditional, contemporary, dark, light, grand or grim — if you can make a case that your book is fantasy, you are welcome to take part. (You do have to have a book in print, however, or else what will I be helping you to publicize?)

Next, how does this actually work? You just e-mail me (CAT09tales -at- hotmail.com) and tell me you want to take part. Don’t contact me by replying to this post. You have to e-mail me! I have the routing all set up and everything.

I’ll send you questions, some for your character and some for you. You pick a couple of them to answer, and we’ll work together to script your character’s grand entrance to the ball. I’ll also need your book’s cover image, description, biography, author photo, purchase links, and so on. (If you don’t provide these things, then, again, how am I helping you publicize your book?)

Once I get a look at what’s being submitted, I’ll put together a schedule that keeps things interesting. I’ll let you know when your big day is scheduled, so you can tell all your friends.

Speaking of friends — My hope is to feature a different book every day in June, so please feel free to share this invitation with the other fantasy authors you know. There are 30 opportunities in all. I’ll post a new announcement here when the 30 spaces have been claimed.

If you want to sign up, or you have other questions, please do e-mail me, CAT09tales -at- hotmail.com. Again, you have to e-mail me. Don’t contact me by replying to this post. Her Majesty is eagerly awaiting your response.

So that’s it! Queen Titania’s Court is coming, and it will be even more fabulous if YOU attend the Midsummer Night Ball.


Have you read one of my books? Then it would be great for you to leave a review! Meanwhile, if you’d like to learn more about me and my work, check out my web siteFacebook, Instagram and/or Twitter.

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Well, are you ready for something more fun than worrying about a virus? Or trying to figure out how to connect to remote meetings and webinars? I sure am!

Luckily, I have a big event to share. Starting next Wednesday, April 1st, I’m opening the eldritch gates for Queen Titania’s Court! Titania, as you may know, is one of the traditional names for the Queen of all Faeries. Her Majesty desires that magical people and beasts from every corner of the fantastic world should join her for a grand ball on Midsummer Night.

For all you fantasy authors, that means you’re invited, too. Choose ONE character from ONE of your books. This character will appear before Queen Titania sometime during the month of June, 2020. This gives you a chance to talk about your book in a fun way, and maybe learn about some other stories you’d like to read. If you know of any fantasy writers who are looking for a bit of publicity — which will be all of us — please pass the word around. More participation = more fun!

I’ll be sharing all the details next Wednesday, April 1st. See you then!


Have you read one of my books? Then it would be great for you to leave a review! Meanwhile, if you’d like to learn more about me and my work, check out my web siteFacebook, Instagram and/or Twitter.

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A few blogs back, I mentioned how many writers will be observing the human interaction as the coronavirus situation unfolds. So here are a couple of my observations.

1. Wow, the hoarding! That started much faster than I expected. I guess some people deal with the unexpected by grabbing a bunch of something (eggs?) and hugging it to their chest like Daffy Duck. “It’s mine! All mine!”

2. So much venting! I literally see messages from people that are, “if you don’t hear from me in two days, come look for my body!” That person has severe anxiety and depression, and I was really worried about them until the next note said, “Sorry about that, I’m better now.” Others keep up a constant stream of “this will be bad, so bad,” followed by “look, this is bad!”

What can you say? Most often, I let it go by. They’re reacting according to their nature. Sometimes I tell them to calm down. One person on Twitter keeps telling me I’m not an “expert.”

So what? How much of an expert do you need to be, to reach out to people who seem like they’re in distress?

3. People get really judgmental, really fast. It’s been disheartening to see the venom unleashed upon random strangers when some image gets shown around of people going to the beach, or a bar, or buying more bread than someone else thinks they deserve.

Friends, we don’t know those people. We don’t know if they intended to be greedy, or defiant, or anything else. (Except for the guy who bought up all the hand sanitizer in his city. What a creep!) Maybe the kids in the bar were supporting a friend who works there. Maybe the person with the bread has that many people to feed at home.

We don’t know why they’re making the choices they do. In fact, it’s none of our business. Yet the human drive to meddle rages on.

What about you? Are there any surprising reactions that you’ve observed?


Have you read one of my books? Then it would be great for you to leave a review! Meanwhile, if you’d like to learn more about me and my work, check out my web siteFacebook, Instagram and/or Twitter.

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