The interesting thing about my writing, was it was never intentional, until it was.

I started out with a small simple descriptive piece that was a single scene described in mythic proportions, I added to this over the span of a week or so, and then it occurred to me...

This scene would have had a history, a reason for being. I contemplated and then set our protagonists feet to the cart rutted path, and into an almost two year journey to find his legacy. Though the journey was not his, it was mine.

During this period of literary discovery, I realized that I was a horrid writer, but at this point the story was begging to be written, and once my mother and my brother started reading it... even as rough as it was, they encouraged me. For a project that may have floundered and died, much as an extraordinarily large percentage of all stories do, that slight encouragement garnered enough momentum until we reached the point of perpetual motion. I am now so invested in the story, that I will most likely continue to write of the universe of Alaeon until I finally meet the Dance myself.

With every word, every sentence, every paragraph and chapter, I polished my work... feed back on see don't say, add more sensory descriptions gnawed at me, and I at my novel.

And with each tap on my keyboard or hastily jotted note, my writing got better.

I consulted various sources and found that everything I was doing was wrong... no adverbs they say... adhere to Chekhov's gun they demanded, shorten, remove...

"Write someone else's story," is what I heard. And when I refused, and gave it over to a bona fide editor, my nuances were ripped from it and the intent was diluted and watered to an extent that it was no longer mine.

I felt as if the cavernous world I had created, intentionally shadowed and subtly nuanced was being explored with a candle as a blind man studies an elephant.

Only I seemed to see the entire cave in its wondrous glory, and with The Dragon on one side and The Phoenix lighting our way, I started the process of learning to edit.

Then, because I do not care if it makes money, I wanted to publish, so my mother, siblings, and friends could have a physical copy, I opted to self-publish.

Armed with the manuscript and images created by Monika Zagrobelna, I laid out my own cover, because let us face the truth... the amazon supplied layouts leave much to be desired.

And now, I realize, after publishing the ebook, I will correct, and change, and subtly enhance these works for the rest of my life, because my intent is not to just bring a story...it is to bring a world to life, to provide a cosmic backdrop.

As you read, leave a review, tell me I need an editor..., tell me Chekhov was right..., tell me that King is the master of writing without adverbs. And then...

Then... tell me what your heart says.

And... if things align... others will take up my mantle.

My intent is to write—not just a series… not merely a saga… but a framework. A foundation from which other writers might feel the urge to add to the mythos and history of Alaeon.

Leslie R Waggoner III

While I live, the canon will reside in me.
And when I pass, the canon will pass to my kin—
So long as interest in it remains.

And with that, I will post... lest this post become an installment in my series...

May the Dance be by your side. In Balance, Brilliance.