Welcome once again to Tales of the Pale. This is Tarrant Smith and this week I’m giving you a glimpse at book 2, The Fate of Wolves. I mean, who doesn’t enjoy a good werewolf romance?
This week’s news.
I managed to finalize the layout and cover of my poetry book. I also ordered the proof. Not only did I receive the proof quickly from Amazon, but it looks absolutely amazing. So now, I can relax a little knowing that I’ll have something I can be proud to share with readers come January 2021.
My editor worked hard to get the final chapters of The Souls of Witches to me last weekend. I’ve gone through the suggested changes and I’m in the final proofreading phase. By Saturday night, I should be able to order the proof. This, of course, means I’ll make my deadlines and the book will be released to readers on time. Please look for it on November 21st in all online bookstores.
Not only did I pick up posters for my November 14th book signing at Madison’s Artist Guild MAGallery today, but I began laying the groundwork for a follow up signing the latter part of January 2021 to celebrate book four’s release. (I know, everything about this year is delayed. It used to be that you had a signing the same weekend of your book’s release. Well, better late than not at all.)
Now let’s move on to updates on the Pale Characters.
Let me first say that I am not crazy, but the characters I create live on in my imagination, as I hope they will do in a reader’s mind long after they’ve finished reading the book. The following is a glimpse of what is still happening inside the universe I created. (I will try to keep this as spoiler-free as I can for anyone who hasn’t read the books. I should also mention that not all the information I share here will find its way into a book.)
It’s actually been rather quiet this week among the Pale. I guess it has to do with the stress of the elections and the slow results as they trickle in. Rhiannon has had a few choice words to say to me about it all, but I think her comments are best kept to myself. Lugh, of course, has an endless supply of optimism where the human race is concerned.
Larkin (from The Love of Gods) has managed, thus far, to avoid his fate at the hands of Talon. Unfortunately, Larkin has resurfaced a few times this week to stoke discord among the already angry factions posting on various social media platforms. He has to be careful not to get caught though. Readers know that Lugh is also gunning for him. (I don’t think the puppet master is long for this world.)
On a happier note, Gabriela is pregnant!
The little bit extra in this week’s letter.
Back in July of 2019, I wrote the following piece. With the election this week, I found myself once again turning away from the television and the constant noise of them versus us, of absolutes and angry speculation, and of the crazy conspiracies that can be found on social media. Sometimes I need to retreat into silence until I can hear the Earth again. I’m sure I am not alone in this feeling.
A Plea For Silence
The world has grown too noisy and I long for the silence of the wood and the tickle of grass under my bare feet. I can no longer hear my own thoughts over the constant yelling of angry men too old to change and too power-hungry to leave the table.
I yearn for the quiet spaces of the heart and for the company of books in whose pages I can escape. But the television is droning on with commentary instead of news, opinion instead of facts.
I thirst for the simplicity and clarity of logic but everything around me is colored with the hatred of thems. Of mobs shouting slogans meant to catch fire, sound bites easily gobbled down by the masses for they have no time to listen to full explanations.
I crave the companionship of the creative soul through whose eyes I can glimpse a different world, a better world where silence is cherished, thoughts elevated, and spirits shared. But it has grown dangerous outside. Digital condemnation and shaming await any who are courageous enough to show their imperfections.
I seek truth in this madness, though it may be complicated and the line between hero and villain can no longer be drawn. But I am lost in this forest of half-truths and lies bent on distracting me from my goal. I cannot breathe nor think properly with all your emotional noise.
So I beg you for silence — that I may find the path, the beginning point, the sacred spot where my bare feet can listen to the Earth’s heartbeat and I can once again recognize the light inside my fellow travelers.
Until then all is darkness within this cacophony of shouting, and I cannot breathe.
Thank you for listening and spending time with Tales of the Pale. Please leave comments and share Tarrant.substack.com with your friends.