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Caoimhe McCabe

~ Fantasy/Romance writer with an Irish twist

Caoimhe McCabe

Tag Archives: writing

Full length novel completed yesterday!

30 Sunday Apr 2017

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novel, wattpad, writing

Finally.

I’ve completed a full length novel (approx 78k words in length) as of yesterday.

I knew I wasn’t far off getting it finished, but I was gob-smacked to find that yesterday was actually IT!

I have two other novellas dealing with minor characters in the main work to finish and then I’ll release them all into the wild and see how they do.

It’s up on Wattpad:

http://my.w.tt/UiNb/nrUkoucOLC

Wander over and let me know what you think…

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Extract from Faerie Apocalypse – Aidan’s Tale

23 Sunday Nov 2014

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Newgrange, Co. Meath, Ireland

Close to midnight, December 21st 2012

The white stones of Newgrange glowed in the light of campfires and lanterns. In the starlit darkness, the great Neolithic passage tomb seemed monstrously huge, dwarfing the people that milled about on its surrounding fields. Enya and Clannad were the artists of choice tonight, one swirling mystical track following after another as the party went on.

Aidan O’Neill stood by one of the bigger fires enjoying the surging buzz of the magic mushrooms he’d choked down earlier. Harvested at the autumn equinox and dried by a man who knew what he was doing, they’d been billed as powerful little bombs of feel good fun. Admittedly, they tasted disgusting, but once he was past the initial nausea, they were certainly living up to their sales pitch. A deep sense of togetherness and euphoria was putting a huge grin on his face. Everyone he saw had the same happy golden aura surrounding them, their movements trailing gold sparkles in the air.

The Daoine Sídhe, over a thousand strong, were in a jubilant mood, having eaten and drunk well in celebration of the night that was in it. Many like Aidan had taken a hit of something mood altering. Those who couldn’t take the mushrooms, the authentic choice of their ancient Celtic forebears, had popped a few E’s instead. And everyone had smoked a massive amount of weed, the sweetish herbal smell thickened the air. There was a mood of happy disbelief about them, like they themselves couldn’t quite accept that their time had finally come. No one had overdone anything, nobody wanted to miss what was coming, the big event centuries in the making. Most were congregating in small fluid groups that broke up and reformed as people drifted in and out of conversation. A close knit group, everyone knew each other and all were quietly seething with excitement as the witching hour drew closer. Aidan felt like his insides would burst with joy and a deep sense of pride; to be at Newgrange on this solstice night as part of the Daoine Sídhe.

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Catherine Ryan Howard answers my self publishing questions #selfprintedsplash

24 Friday Oct 2014

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#selfprintedsplash, Catherine Ryan Howard, SANE PERSON'S GUIDE, self publishing, writing

First a bit about the awesome Catherine Ryan Howard:

Catherine Ryan Howard is a writer, self-publisher and caffeine enthusiast from Cork, Ireland. SELF-PRINTED: THE SANE PERSON’S GUIDE TO SELF-PUBLISHING (3rd edition) is out now in paperback and e-book and available from Amazon. Follow the #selfprintedsplash on Twitter today (Friday 24th) and/or visit http://www.catherineryanhoward.com for chance to win an amazing prize that will get your self-publishing adventure started!

And now a bit about the third edition of SELF-PRINTED: THE SANE PERSON’S GUIDE TO SELF-PUBLISHING:
“SELF-PRINTED is my self-publishing bible. It taught me how to format, create and upload my e-books and print-on-demand paperbacks. It showed me practical things such as how to build a website/blog and how to promote my books. More importantly, it taught me how to compete with the professionals. Just look at the results – The Estate Series has sold nearly 100,000 copies and following that I got a traditional book deal with Thomas & Mercer too, so I’m now a hybrid author. Jam-packed full of hints and tips all in one place, I’m always referring back to it. In a word, it’s priceless.” – Mel Sherratt, author of The Estate Series and DS Allie Shenton Series

Catherine very generously threw her blog open to self publishing questions, so I asked one:

Q:If you wrote a trilogy, would you release all three on the same day or space their release out to one every month (or other interval)?

And Catherine’s answer:

A: I would space them out at intervals of 6-12 weeks. Releasing them all at the same time wastes opportunities. Whenever you release a new book, you get to feature in ‘New and Future Releases’ on Amazon, and then there’s the KDP Select programme. Although it’s benefits have decreased, it’s still worthwhile if you’ve multiple titles. For instance, I’d release Book 1 and enroll it in KDP Select. Now it has to be exclusive to Amazon for at least 90 days. I might do my five free days to get the ball rolling. At the end of those 90 days (or 12 weeks ish), I’d release Book 2 and have my next set of five free days on Book 1, which I can do now that a new 90 days has started. Release book 3 in 90 days’ time and do the same thing – so for Books 2 and 3, Book 1 is free for five days at release, encouraging people to download and read Book 1 for free and pay for Books 1 and 2. Once you’ve built up a bit of momentum, un-enroll from KDP Select and go for wider distribution with Smashwords, etc.

I blogged about some other reasons why you shouldn’t release multiple titles simultaneously here:

http://catherineryanhoward.com/2012/05/07/how-to-sell-self-published-books-one-at-a-time/

Thanks so much Catherine, for taking the time to answer my question. Best of luck with the third edition of SELF-PRINTED: THE SANE PERSON’S GUIDE TO SELF-PUBLISHING.

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Good news for Irish artists in Budget 2015

16 Thursday Oct 2014

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artist's exemption, Budget 2015, Ireland, tax, writing

Just a quick update to say that the amount you can earn tax free as an artist in Ireland has risen from €40k to €50k in Budget 2015.

(This tax break is also open to non-resident-in-the-Republic artists.)

The Snowflake Method

10 Sunday Aug 2014

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snowflake method, writing

I have come to the conclusion that my natural writing style is the snowflake method.

I posted the first two chapters of my Roman story on the blog over the last month or so, but they now have changed (not beyond recognition!!) since I went back over them, adding characters and changing the dynamics somewhat.

It seems I’m perpetually working on the first few chapters as they increase in size due to added layers and plot expansions. It makes the story better, of that there is no doubt, but sometimes I despair of ever finishing as my endless tweaking and tinkering keeps me in thrall.

I think I’ll have to just accept that this is how I write my best stuff. Be patient with myself and let the story expand and breathe and I will eventually get to the end and have a far better work of fiction than if I had ignored my natural bent and ploughed ahead just to get finished.

Oh well, back I go to first century Hibernia as Sadbh and Marcus battle it out!

 

 

 

Excerpt from short fiction – Heart of the Banshee

03 Sunday Aug 2014

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banshee, celtic, fiction, mythology, short, WIP, writing

Here’s a short piece of fiction I’ve been working on, the premise of which is: What if a banshee is unintentionally seen by someone destined to live a long life? Tradition says that if you see one, it means you’ll die soon, so what if you see one by accident and assume the worst? Maybe you’ll make different choices once you know your days are numbered….

 

Fintan moved quickly through the forest, habit keeping his footfalls light and silent despite his boiling frustration. A noisy hunter seldom returned with a kill and Fintan was the best hunter in the clan. He wasn’t surprised when his feet delivered him to the shady glade deep in the forest’s interior. Here, all was peace and beauty, where a man could ease his mind and find sanctuary from the world’s demands. And Fintan was in sore need of a quiet place to think.

A narrow stream trickled in a steady flow near the edge of the glade and Fintan knelt to drink from it. The cold water sprang from deep within the earth and was easily the most refreshing water in the kingdom. Priests came to collect it to use in church as holy water, some said the stream was likewise favoured by those who held to the old faith. But today Fintan was blessedly alone, free to drink his fill in peace.

His mother’s words still burned in his brain.

‘You will marry the daughter of Bran Ui Choilean,’ she had said, ‘the match is agreed whether ye like it or not.’

Fintan had met his intended bride the previous summer. She was a slip of a girl, of an age with him but appearing much younger than her years. God knows, he’d tried to like her but it was hard, even for a character as affable as his. Nothing pleased her. Nothing displeased her. Nothing seemed to make any impression on her whatsoever.

Continue reading →

I used to write fan fiction

27 Sunday Jul 2014

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fan fiction, LOTR, writing

Over ten years ago, back when I was still at university I wrote a 20-something chapter fan-fiction based on Lord of the Rings.

I created an original character and placed her in that world, giving another view of the events in the books. Actually, come to think of it, I created two original characters and had a lot of fun with them as I re-lived the story through their eyes.

To this day, I still get mails from Fanfiction.net with reviews, favourites or story alerts from readers. Funnily enough, these always seem to come in at times when I’m doubting my ability as a writer. They really pick me up when I see them and I go back to the site, using my ancient login and marvel at the number of people who have bothered their collective arses to follow those 20-something chapters through to the histrionic end.

I loved writing it and to this day it might just be the most fun I’ve ever had at a keyboard.

I want to have that same fun when writing now. Having examined my conscience, I think what I loved back then was writing a story that was already well known. There was no need for tedious exposition and descriptions, everyone already knew the world and the characters. All I had to do was give it a fresh take through new eyes. What security! To be writing in a world familiar to and loved by so many.

And now, I create my own and I fear my imagination and descriptive powers are simply not up to the job. Oh well, that’s every writer’s worry, isn’t it? That one’s words will not live up to the worlds in your head.

Ah those magnificent palaces of the mind, how marvellous they seem as you stroll through them in your day dreams. But try to describe them in the waking world and your descriptions fall far short of the magnificence you know is there. And worse, as you age, you get more cynical with yourself, you look back at earlier work and wonder how you could ever have come up with those ideas. You would never think of them now. Settings and plots that would’ve filled me with enthusiasm and excitement then seem trite and childish to me now.

And yet, look at Middle Earth and its enduring appeal. It’s basically rural England with a few dragons thrown in. LOTR is a tale of good versus evil, the basic plot of countless books and films. But decades after publication there are writers all over the world inspired to write fan-fiction just like I did. And the original books still sell in their droves.

Maybe the earlier plots and settings I devised in my youth were not so silly after all, maybe there is something to be said for simplicity and telling a familiar story well.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on myself when I look back on earlier efforts.

Excerpt from WIP – Chap 2 of Roman and the Goddess

13 Sunday Jul 2014

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fiction, goddess, roman, sample, WIP, writing

Chapter Two

Sadbh knelt on the hut’s earthen floor to examine the bodies more closely.

Pity engulfed her when she saw how young the boys were, not even old enough to grow warrior’s beards. The mournful keening of the mothers filled her ears. Their jagged solo wails and shrieks cut the autumn air with grief, audible through the clamour of an outraged clan outside. Sadbh heard the mothers’ agony as though they keened for her ears alone. It was overwhelming, the tearing pain of loss as a future was ripped from the woman who’d given it birth. Sadbh blew out a long breath and drew another in an effort to slow her heart’s racing.

The cruel wounds inflicted in a style she knew all too well stirred memories of an old loss to the surface. Her vision blurred and then darkened as a wave of panic crashed over her. Not here, not in the land of Eire, dear goddess, let it not be so.

The Morrigan’s divine presence threatened to come to the fore as it always did in times of great distress. Black wings beat at the edges of her mind, a rage that no mortal could ever hope to bear began its corrosive journey through her veins. Sweat ran down her back as Sadbh exerted every drop of mortal strength she possessed to keep the goddess from taking control. Over the years she’d learned how to stop the Morrigan from using her as she saw fit and sometimes, if Sadbh caught the onslaught in time, she could force the divine presence back into its customary place deep inside her heart.

There must be vengeance!

There will be, my goddess, with you by my side, the guilty cannot hope to avoid it.

After a few moments of intense effort, the tide of the Morrigan’s great strength receded within her and Sadbh set about her duty.

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Excerpt from WIP – The Roman and the Goddess

29 Sunday Jun 2014

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roman, sample chapter, work in progress, writing

Hi All,

haven’t updated in a while and just wanted to share a draft of the first chapter of my other series – The Roman and the Goddess, which I hope to have available in a few months time.

It opens in Hibernia in 81AD, a small force of Romans have landed to reconnoitre, prior to launching an invasion from Brittania.

Chapter One

‘Kill them all.’

For Marcus, it was the first order he’d balked at in twenty years of loyal service to Rome. Had it come from a seasoned commander who’d earned the rank, Marcus would have thought twice about refusing. But Gnaeus was a jumped-up legion reject hopelessly under qualified for command. Added to which, he was the easiest man in the Empire to offend and had a streak of cruelty that would put a Persian to shame. Marcus eyed him with distaste, his hands itching to unsheathe the gladius slung at his side and put an end to the man.

Only Gnaeus was stupid enough to order the needless killing of three captive boys. With a leaden heart Marcus studied them, huddled against each other, bound and unable to run. Their eyes held unmistakable fear but also anger. Despite their perilous situation, Marcus discerned an air of entitlement about them that set all his instincts tingling.

He turned his glare on Gnaeus but the man was oblivious, peering into the misty drizzle for imaginary foes. Marcus snorted, they had seen precious little in the way of native population since they’d arrived. Gnaeus whipped around at the sound, scowling at the three boys.

‘Why are they still drawing breath?’ he said, his face screwing itself up into a parody of distaste, ‘did I not just order their deaths?’

The order could have been for any of the five legionaries in their compact little unit, but it was upon Marcus that Gnaeus’ vicious gaze alighted. Such was his luck of late, always catching the wrong eye at the wrong time. But then again, Gnaeus always had the wrong eye out for him. The autumn wind that whipped around the exposed hillside was less frigid than the atmosphere between Marcus and his commander.

The sea voyage and the last three days floundering on foreign ground, had whittled away the traditional deference due a superior officer from a subordinate. Anyone who spent more than five minutes in their company would divine who the real leader of the expedition should be. Marcus’ natural ability and past experience as a senior officer with the legions made him a man the others instinctively looked to for guidance. Gnaeus was just bright enough to realise that, while also painfully aware of his own shortcomings as a leader. And so he duly perceived Marcus as a threat to his command. Shunning the common sense of using Marcus’ talents for his own gain, the petty little bastard had instead chosen to put upon Marcus at every opportunity.

Ah, Gnaeus, what an utter and complete shit for whom the skills of leadership would be a perpetual mystery.

‘Are you deaf? Cut their throats!’

With a jolt, Marcus realised he’d been openly glaring at the commander whose countenance was growing darker by the second. By the amused looks on his comrades’ faces, his thoughts had been plain to read. To add the general air of tense misery, the drizzle that had been their constant companion all day now turned to rain.

‘What’s to be gained by killing these striplings?’ Marcus asked, playing for time.

Maybe Gnaeus could be persuaded that not all foreigners should be executed for the crime of not being born Roman. Maybe something could be rescued from this disaster of an expedition, a pax formed with the boys’ tribe even. Would the man be made to see the practical sense in that?

‘We don’t even know who they are,’ Marcus continued, ‘what if they’re princes of their tribe? What then? We’ll open ourselves to reprisals and we don’t have the men to repel an attack…’

A quickly stifled laugh from one of the boys made Marcus’ heart sink. Gnaeus’ eyes narrowed dangerously as he swung about to face the three captives.

‘They understand us,’ he spat, ‘and thanks to you they now know our strength. You fool!’

Marcus sighed as the leaden weight in his chest seemed to grow even heavier, the boys had all but signed their own death warrants. They’d played innocent when captured earlier that day, betraying no trace of comprehension when he’d caught them spying on the Romans’ scouting the area. He’d got nothing from them but shrugged shoulders and smiles. Expressive, but hardly illuminating.

The other soldiers exchanged nervous looks, plainly the idea of revenge attacks had not occurred to them. Marcus was a veteran of many foreign campaigns and as a general rule, he tended not to immediately murder the first natives he encountered. It unfailingly engendered ill will with the local populace. But Gnaeus was well past listening, his face had turned a dangerous shade of puce and he’d worked himself up into an almighty froth of rage at the turn of events.

‘Cut their vile throats and be done with it!’ he screamed, spit flying from his mean little mouth.

Marcus nodded wearily, it’s what he’d expected to hear. He’d known from the moment they’d caught the three lads what their fate would be, but he’d be damned if he’d play the executioner and do Gnaeus’ dirty work.

‘Fuck you for a lazy bastard, Gnaeus,’ he said, ‘Kill them yourself, I’ll have no part in it.’

The boys’ eyes darted nervously between Marcus and Gnaeus, waiting for the next riposte.

Gnaeus remained perfectly still for a moment, an idiot’s grin stuck on his face. The colour faded so quickly from his cheeks that Marcus had a cheery moment thinking the Fates had intervened to cut the thread of Gnaeus’ life with apoplexy. His cheer died quickly however, as a dangerous glint sparked into being in Gnaeus’ beady eyes. It was a look Marcus had seen but once before and that had led to a great deal of pain.

‘Fuck you then, Marcus, l will,’ said Gnaeus, his voice almost too low to hear.

Marcus swore quietly, berating himself for pushing his luck so boldly.

Terror dawned on their young faces and three pairs of eyes turned to Marcus, wide with pleading.

Marcus sighed, his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. They were fourteen at most, they’d done nothing to deserve a painful death at the hands of an alley dog like Gnaeus. A recent memory surfaced of the fate of a young Silurian slave, unlucky enough to displease Gnaeus by spilling wine on his tunic. The poor boy had been made to suffer most agonisingly at the commander’s hands, his flesh sheared from his slight body piece by piece by a thin cruel blade wielded with relish by its owner. Marcus’s stomach roiled at the memory. Gnaeus licked his lips and withdrew a long thin blade from the depths of his cloak, a feral glint in his eye. Continue reading →

Interesting times

04 Sunday May 2014

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confidence, editing, writing

I may have mentioned in my first blog post that I had entered a competition back in 2011 for a story with an apocalyptic theme run by Samhain Publishing. I had come to the competition late and dashed off 24k words in 6 weeks. Even when submitting it, I knew I wasn’t quite ready but I had run out of time at that point and had to let the work succeed or fail on its (then) current merits. It was ultimately rejected and so it languished unread on my hard drive for the last three years.

Until I found this website: http://www.editingforauthors.com

They offer a free sample edit, so I took them up on it. I got in touch and got a friendly note back looking for the first ten pages of my apocalyptic work for review. I duly acceded to this request and then awaited their feedback.

It took one week, during which time I bit my nails to the quick, worrying that my work was so appalling that the editors were racking their brains trying to think of nice ways to tell me that I suck.

What I got back, however, was a really professional edit on my prologue accompanied by a note with a few salient suggestions on what might improve the work. Basically I received some realistic and very helpful comments. Certainly nothing I disagreed with anyway!

It was a revelatory moment for me, truth be told. I had some doubts about my writing, wondering if it was just pure rubbish with no merit whatsoever. But getting this sample edit done has given me the confidence to go on. I was told I had ‘clean’ writing, which I assume means that my work is not littered with spelling and grammar errors. Plus they really liked my apocalyptic idea, so I was quite chuffed with that!

I’ll work on their suggestions and then send them the full manuscript for an overhaul, the charge is a very reasonable $0.017 a word (paid in instalments) and I think they’re well worth it going by the sample.

So, the moral of the story is that sometimes it’s worth getting an objective outside opinion on your work. It can give you the courage to keep going when you’re plagued by self doubt.

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