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The Grey Isle Tale - now available!

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

There Is a Me I Know

There is a Me I Know

There is a me I know.
I am Him
and He is me

Whenever in my wanderings
I wonder what to do
I find Him still
inside of me
and suddenly I know
what to do

What could I do
if I were me?
unleashed and unbridled?
Could I travel far and wide?
Could I find my dreams
come true?

Each day there are so many
things that I must do
and mostly they are mundane
whether task, or chore, or bore
Duty says, 'Here you stop
and do'

But the Me who is inside,
He, we stare on past
to far horizons calling
new and fresh and true
our heart knows best
what our mind forgets
We know what We must do.

-RPF '16

Friday, May 20, 2016

Today I Am An Author


I can't believe it. 

In the midst of a brief lull here at work, it's been suddenly hitting me. I can remember back to 4th grade when we had a creative writing assignment... they told me to just make up something and write it down. Whatever I turned in was probably only a few (brief) paragraphs... but the teacher complimented me, out-loud in front of the class. For a boy growing up with a severe stuttering problem - public affirmation like that changed my life. While my old 4th grade teacher, Mrs. McNeese, probably doesn't remember what I'm sure was just another day at work for her, I do.

It's rather tempting to disbelieve with barbed cynicism how 'what you say matters'. It has all the hallmarks of gushy greeting-card platitudes. However, today especially, I realize just how much my life is a living testament to small mercies and others' thoughtless kindness. In the past, I've written about why I write, how what you write matters, and even existential pieces on how Fantasy is not Escapism... I may have learned new 10-Dollar words and been exposed to more complex ideas since that fateful creative writing assignment in the 4th grade, but I have carried the weight of one woman's kindness with me ever since. Her words did more for me than all the other writing workshops, self-help books, and countless hours typing ever could have.

As I've expressed before, what you create will go out into the wide-world... they will find homes in unlikely places, and become keys to hidden kingdoms for those who seek them... but who you love and care for, those people will carry your words and actions far beyond the horizon. Who knows what uncharted worlds you breathe life to when you spread Goodness. We are lights which shine - and our light goes out into dark places - and there catches flame wherever need calls.

Happy writing, everyone.

-Ryan

PS, you can purchase my novella, The Grey Isle Tale, HERE

Thursday, May 19, 2016

The Grey Isle Tale - now available!

The Sea Dragon is Coming!

- Order your copy today -

Enter the Grey Isle - a land full of misty ruins, the cry of the sea, and... conspiracy!
Race through the countryside alongside legends, leaders, and stubborn locals as they confront the greatest threat their way of life has ever faced: their own inner darkness.
...
You can read more about The Grey Isle Tale, as well as all of author Ryan P Freeman's books here.


Monday, May 16, 2016

Awake, Oh Sleeper!

 Awake, Oh Sleeper!



Every small thing is meaningful -
Especially when it comes to writing.

Sometimes, over the long-haul, it's the endurance to keep writing which is the hardest. Be aware of what you're writing and when you have ideas. Jot them down. Don't put them aside until you have! Inspiration can come from the strangest of places. I've come to realize that imagination is the back door to the soul. We humans are creative powder kegs waiting for just the hint of the smallest spark. Be aware of who you are and what excites your passion at a knee-jerk level. Take time to get away, even if its just a walk through a nearby park. Pacing your endurance and tending to your imagination are essential not just for creating great art, but for you as a person.

Too many times, I've heard the term escapism flung at my genre, fantasy. If you're not familiar with the term escapism, it has to generally do with the idea that fantasy is just 'escaping from the supposed real world'. It's an objection which has floated around for quite some time now. Tolkien once asked C.S. Lewis who was opposed to escape.

His answer?
“Jailers.”

Now, I'm not trying to be overtly conspiratorial here or anything; however, who's to say what 'real' is? The two most powerful words in existence are as follows: What If. It's easy to go to school day in day out, or punch the time-card Mon-Fri, 9-5... but is that really the entire circumference of our lives?

One of the reasons I like fantasy is because I feel like the world of long ago has a soul-stirring straightforwardness to it. It's one filled with unlikely peasant heroes, who take up the enchanted sword or the impossible quest against Darkness. It's one where words like heroism and justice mean more than just civil service or legality.

Imagine, for a moment, that the lens of fantasy is not relegated to quasi-medieval Europe. If there was a wicked aunt or an evil king, what would a hero do? Protagonists from legends past would resist and eventually overcome them. Similarly, Niel Gaiman once said, "Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten."
How much have we been pacified and numbed by our modern culture? What modern spells have put us into an enchanted sleep? And what will it take to break the spell?

I don't yet know.

But I do know that imagination is the backdoor to the soul. I know that with the right story, as a key to ancient locks of secret gardens, slumbering heroes can once again be re-awakened.

My favorite part of the entire Chronicles of Narnia is when for a moment, as Lucy wanders through the forest at night, the trees have all half-awakened at the coming of Aslan; in the moonlight, they all dance around the Great Lion.

I do not count myself as one of the waking ones, but one of the half-slumberers still. When I write, I am trying to wake up - rising up through deep waters to waking. What we see meanwhile, in this dreamtime, may indeed be frightening. It is not overt terror of monsters we now flee from - but the Yawn. From the lie of purposelessness, determinism, and timidity. 

I believe that who we are is yet to be seen. Good stories help awaken us with a whisper and a gleam of something far better and higher than we can now imagine or dream. 

Have you felt it, too? 
Will you heed the clarion summons?

When I read from the great masters, those who have seen and have written back for us, I know I am not them. I am not a great hero nor a wise sage. I'm just me. But perhaps we're exactly who we need to be, where we are, for a reason and purpose greater than all our modern culture has presupposed. As someone else once wrote, "Even the smallest person can change the course of the future."

What you do and who you are matters. Never forget that.

Monday, April 18, 2016

"We All Need A little Help From Our Friends"

My back deck last year, along with one of our cats, Baldur. -RPF


A couple of the things I've learned over the course of this whole writing endeavor is to value good friends; and the other is to do what makes you happy (and not what you think ought to make you happy).

Case-in-point, the other day I was coming home from work. My driveway is rather long-ish, so I usually come in the back of my house. It's the first thing I see (besides my bounding dogs) when I come home, and it's the last thing I see before heading out again. So yesterday when I got home, it struck me how bare my back deck was... Then later on that evening, just after sunset I stepped back outside to simply sit outside my backdoor, drink some iced-coffee I accidentally bought, and watch the stars come out. After a some time, I got this gradual image in my head about how sitting out there would be even better if I were surrounded by flowers...

The image stuck with me through till the next day, so after work, I went out to Lowes and loaded up on a smattering of my favorite flowery plants and vines, then swung back home and got to work gardening the place up.

Why do I relate a random story? Well, honestly, because it makes me happy to garden outside. I believe writing is the ultimate self-expression. If you're tired, stressed, harried, and otherwise indisposed, how... how on God's green Earth are you going to be able to create good art?

I've come to learn in order to write at your best, one of the essentials is to cultivate your own life. Look, I know life is what it is sometimes... and I know most of us can't simply generate levitating-zen-inner-peace or anything (most of the time), but we can strive to be self-aware and purposeful about how we live our lives.

Since I expanded my garden, instead of moping about the house, begrudging the inevitable siren-call of work in the morning - I was outside instead. Watering-can in hand, I dallianced amid the columbines, trumpeter vines, and pansies. Now I'm cheerfully pecking out another post, all because I did a simple little thing I like to do.

Another part of this cultivating yourself notion, is to be aware of who lifts you up? Which friends help you? Who is ready to hang out - chat - drive around town with you? Likewise- are you this sort of person for someone else?

DANGER!

As you read that last sentence, did you feel a lighting flash of guilt? STOP IT. To the best of your ability, don't live your life on 'ought to's' and 'should's'. What do you want to do? I mean, seriously. Yeah yeah, we all have responsibilities and work - but don't box yourself in. Don't laden your own creativity and don't fetter your heart. Deliberately and intentionally water your whole self. Break your own tough ground - and be aware of ruts, mental or otherwise.

Who you are, what you do, and who you spend your time with affects you. This might come off sounding like common sense, but you'd be surprised... Sometimes, we're just waiting for someone else to tell us what we've been guessing all along. This idea of balance is not new. Many people over many years have all taken cracks at it - and I'm no master at it, either. But when you write, you are expressing yourself. All of you comes tumbling through the point of your pen or through each stroke of the keys. There are no filters and there is no inner-spell check. You're writing for people who need to hear you. And you're the only one who can write you. Make good art, then. And in writing good art, be at your personal best. Know how you work. Spend time with yourself - then who you truly are can flow with sparkling clarity and power.

Or, I dunno - do what you want. These are just words on a screen, not your conscience. If you'd like to read more on some of what I've been talking about, I highly recommend just about anything by author Brennan Manning - especially his Ragamuffin Gospel.
(I also believe you can youtube him, as well.)

happy writing!

- Ryan 

Monday, April 4, 2016

9 O'Clock

I've probably mentioned this before, but I think it bares repeating (repeating) -

 I think I've done my best writing while personally at my worst. 



As Hemmingway once said, 
"There is nothing to writing. All you have to do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

This resonates with me deeply. This fall, my first completed work, Rienspel, will be releasing via Amazon. Writing this work, especially the end, helped carry me through a time when I felt purposeless and void. Only a few years ago, I was out of work. Frustrated, embarrassed, and powerless - the one thing I had going for me each day, was to get up and write.

To this day, 9 o'clock is 'the magic hour'.

It's the time of morning when my house would be quiet and empty. I would brew what coffee I had, turn music on, and write. There, in that suspended mythos of creativity, there was only the story. There was only the characters and there was only the plot. When I woke up and sat down - and after a few sips of coffee - my day synced with my character's day. In my experience, when a writer is broken and humbled, then there is less of him to get in the way of the story. Like the slow brewing of coffee (french-press style, in my case), the bits and pieces of my life settled down, and what was left was pure and unadulterated ambrosia: Pure Story. I was myself - unleashed before an open page, white before my black-lettered voice.

If my heart ached - there it was that I could feel the power I had inside, raw and unrefined, propelling my tale on and on. It was a heady place. Delve too deeply or inquire too closely and the vision would vanish away... But then, when the sun rose again, when the morning rains came once more, there was 9 o'clock. And it was time for magic, once more.

Writing helped focus my purpose when I felt I had none.

The other day, one of my friends and beta-readers, Jennie, told me I was 'so talented'. I still feel boggled by her compliment. In my mind and heart, once the life-dregs have settled once more, I still feel like the Ryan I was during those magic hours years ago. When I felt like every other pride, dream, and source of definitive power had left me exposed to the world... there was still writing. It wasn't very good, and it wouldn't matter much... but what I created mattered to me. That was what I had and it helped carry me though.

Whatever you have and whatever state you find yourself in, know that you can always create something. Sub-creation is a power we are all given. It is small and it is humble. But it has the power to guide you through the darkest of life's storms. We each have our own 9 o'clock - we each possess our own magic hour.

- Ryan

ps - my novella, The Grey Isle Tale, will be releasing via Amazon mid May! Get ready to face Mororedros, the Sea Dragon!
There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. Ernest Hemingway
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/e/ernesthemi384744.html
There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. Ernest Hemingway
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/e/ernesthemi384744.html

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

A Whole New World on the Horizon...

“Listening is not a reaction, it is a connection,

Listening to a conversation or a story, we don’t so much respond as join in — become part of the action.” 

- Ursula K. Le Guin
 -The Magic of Real Human Conversation

- Here's to seeing you experience the world of Rienspel
starting with The Grey Isle Tale!

Ryan P. Freeman