TOTEH Characters: Sygillis of Blanchefort
January 15, 2011
Her origins are unknown, having been abducted at a young age and raised to be a Black Hat in the Shade Church. She was given the name “Sygillis” personally by the Black Abbess. As a Black Hat Hammer, Sygillis of Metatron was infamous for slaughtering a whole squadron of League Marines single-handed. Tiny, barely five feet tall, red-haired and green-eyed, she sat in her Temple in Metatron, a diminutive yet utterly evil and terrifying figure atop her throne. She was often brought prisoners condemned to death, and there, like a bug on a spider’s web, they would stumble through the pitch darkness of her temple, eventually being killed by her. A particularly ruthless Black Hat, she was one of the Black Abbess’ favorites.
Select Black Hats have the occasional ability to see the future—Sygillis being one of them. She would later recall, sitting on her throne, having a vision of a tall man with glowing eyes searching for her in the dark. Lost in a Shadow tech nightmare and her soul being stunted and evil, she didn’t understand what she was seeing. In later reflection, she understood she was dreaming of Captain Davage, her future savior, looking for her in the night.She was captured by the League in 03189ax. There, instead of being executed by the Sisterhood, she was “saved” by the ship’s captain, Lord Davage of Blanchefort. She, for reasons unknown, did not attempt to kill Davage, and eventually was “turned” by him. Eventually, she worked her way into Davage’s heart and they were married in the Telmus Grove, Sygillis becoming the 1,463rd Countess of Blanchefort. Breaking the usual tradition of Countesses staying at home in the ancestral castle, Sygillis went everywhere Captain Davage did, sharing in his adventures. Her Silver tech familiar is a tiny replica of Captain Davage’s former Fleet ship, the Seeker. Through it she can unleash a torrent of firepower when needed and destroy StT’s at a high rate.
Their first child was a son, whom they named Kabyl, after an ancient Blanchefort lord.
“Syg” has many interests. She loves old Castle Blanchefort and spends much of her free time exploring the lost passages and covered up runs. She also developed a love of bowling–a “hidden” pastime played in secret. Syg took over the Blanchefort family business of creating fabrics and garments–a trade Lord Blanchefort himself had no interest in. When the designers and artesans at the factories tried to push aside her ideas and brush her off, she sacked the lot of them and took up their responsibilities herself, being known for a time with scorn as “Madame Thimble”.Being an ex-Black Hat, Syg is fearless and unabashed. She often publically goes against the Sisterhood of Light and is candid in her opinions. She is notoriously without shame and impossible to humiliate. Her ongoing issues and public confrontations with the Duchess of Oyln (she also an ex-Black Hat) are a constant source of A-List gossip.
copyright 2011, Ren Garcia
Don’t Forget about Paris …
January 13, 2011
Is it 2 … 3 … 7 … ?
I could not remember my mother’s phone number. My mom’s had the same phone number for thirty years. Land-line, old school. I know that number backwards and sideways. I’ve known it since I was a kid, when Mom used to write it down on a scrap of paper for me to take. “Now, call home if you need anything,” she said. I didn’t need the paper–I knew it cold.
I knew it cold …
And now I’m standing there with the phone in my hand and I can’t remember mother’s number. I could, of course, grab my Smartphone and speed dial it out of the Contacts list, but what would that prove, that my mom’s nothing more than a blip on a screen.
I stood there completely blank.
Why? What happened? I’ve spent so much time locked in the basement like a family secret, writing my stories in millions of words and reveling in things that never were. I am a god in the basement where I create all things. I step out and what am I? A creature who’s quickly forgetting many of the things that matter most.
You cannot spend so much time in the make-believe that you forget to exist in the real world. I promised my wife I’d take her to Paris–and I have not taken her to Paris. I’ve made lots of promises, how many have I broken?
My Honeydo list is intolerable.
I stood there with the phone, the dial tone converting to an accusing howl. I clicked the switch and started over and forced the unreal from my head. I forced myself to remember my mother’s number, seeing the digits in my head, tracing it out on the dial pad with my finger. One digit at a time, then: “Hello?”
“Hi, mom …” I couldn’t even recall what I was calling about . It didn’t matter. I’d remembered my mother’s number.
So, to my wife–I will take you to Paris. I’m sorry, my love, please forgive me.
To my mom–I will never forget your number again. Oh look, your birthday is coming up. I won’t forget.
I swear it.
UPDATE: 2014
So, here it is just a little over three years since I posted this cathartic little item when I became distant from the people I love. I’m happy to say I kept my promises to myself. I still remember my mother’s phone number and I took my wife to Europe last year(just not Paris–that’s next trip!). This post was a harsh wake up to myself reminding me not to allow the unreal to dominate my time and thoughts, at least not to the point of madness and obsession. I have since changed my writing process. I migrated from the basement to upstairs in the bright lights of the loft where my wife watches television. I stand at a podium with my latest WIP while the giant TV blares. I talk to my wife. I ask her about her day. We laugh. I peck away at the WIP.
I still create a host of strange things, just not as quickly as before. I keep things in perspective.
You cannot allow yourself to become like I did, a wraith in the basement possessed with an imaginary world. No matter what your personal situation is, it’s simply not a healthy way to carry on. Ask yourself some tough questions: Have you broken any promises? Have you forgotten important things? Have you neglected yourself and your health?
Be honest in your answers. Change things up, alter your process, adjust the mood. Take a day off every so often. Set yourself a limit, I usually don’t go much past 2000 words a day. 2000 words is good. Very good.
While creating the lives of imaginary people, don’t forget to live a little yourself.
Bowl Naked
RG
LoE Books 1 and 2 to be Re-Published by Loconeal
January 12, 2011
As The Dead Held Hands, the first book in the Temple of the Exploding Head trilogy nears publication, Loconeal Publishing is also planning on re-releasing Books 1 and 2 in the League of Elder series at the same time.
Book 1, The League of Elder: Sygillis of Metatron will be re-released as a deluxe printing featuring additional interior artwork by Carol Phillips, Bea Matarrendona-Garcia, and Eve Ventrue. Remember your old favorites: Captain Davage, Lt. Kilos, Ennez the Hospitaler and the vile Sygillis of Metatron? They’re all back once again in this revised format from Loconeal. Can Captain Davage, a heart-broken man, discover love at long last despite himself, and, in the process, will he survive the deadly attention of Sygillis of Metatron? Sygillis craves his death and will kill any who might wish to get in her way. It will be available as trade paperback and as ebook. March, 2011
Book 2 in the series: The Hazards of the Old Ones, will also be re-released by Loconeal. All the action and suspense you remember is back with a vengeance, as Carahil, the little god who could, seeks to save a distant world from destruction. Interior art by Carol Phillips, Justine Marie Hedman and Chantal Boudreau. Trade paperback and ebook. March 2011
copyright 2011 Ren Garcia
TOTEH Characters: The House of Monama
January 10, 2011
As Monamas are clearly indigenous to Kana, they are a different species than the late-coming Elder peoples who arrived on Kana in 000000EX. In fact, the name Kana comes from the old Systerel word Ka-Na, which means “Jade/Sapphire”.
A standard Monama stands anywhere from 5’3 to 5’6 and usually weigh less than a hundred pounds. Monamas of old were much larger and much denser then they generally are now. They are known for their massive shocks of thick black hair which they wear down to their ankles, however, except for their heads, Monamas are hairless. Their skin is chalk-white and their eyes are faded black which see best in dim lighting. Their fingernails are known to be extremely hard and quite sharp. Wearing their fingernails long and black is a usual habit among them.
Monamas are remarkable physical specimens. Despite their smallish size, they are incredibly strong, being many times stronger than a standard, un-Gifted Elder. They are also extremely fast and agile, sure-footed and long-winded with great endurance.Their fecundity is well-known, as all Monama tribes breed with great speed. A typical Monama birthing takes no more than three months in the womb and numbers anywhere from eight to twenty young. Many Monamas do not survive to full adulthood.
They are generally very susceptible to cold temperature. Any temperature below 60 degrees F is said to be quickly fatal. They also have little or no tolerance for alcohol, with a sip or two of the thinnest of wines being enough to inebriate them.
Monamas have a number of Gifts/Talents which make then notable/infamous depending on how it’s viewed. Monamas can change their shape and often sell their services as prostitutes, able and willing to become anything their clients wish. They can also see the future with great accuracy and often make their living as fortune-tellers. They often draw the scorn and mistrust of the Sisterhood of Light for their promiscuous ways, their Bronta-style of decorating clothing, pottery and masonry (branded obscene by the Sisters). They also make use of a strange device known as the NIGHTMARE which they are said to influence Elder-men’s minds.
The end of many Monama’s lives is as a Berserkacide. How or why a Monama becomes a Berserkacide is not well understood. The condition can happen to any Monama, man or woman, young or old. Many Monamas who have too many dealings with the Elders beyond their lake tend to become Berserkacides. Why this is the case is not known.Berserkacides have four fully functioning arms. They are full of rage and loathing, seeking to harm themselves as much as any victims they might come across. They are no longer subject to the effects of cold temperatures as a Berserkacide, though they seem to lack all of the other Gifts/talents Monamas have. They generally do not live long; caged Berserkacides usually don’t last longer than a month or two. Once a Monama is transformed into a Berserkacide, there is no helping or reverting them.
copyright 2011, Ren Garcia
Sam’s Chain
January 8, 2011
Such is the case with the incredibly talented German artist, Fantasio. Fantasio painted me a great pic of Sam some time back. I gave Fantasio a detailed outline of what I wanted and he came up with a very gothic, stately looking Sam.
One odd thing. He added a chain to the skirt of her gown trailing off into the fog and hung it with bird skulls and keys. A pretty cool artistic detail, but nothing more. I didn’t describe Sam in the book as having a chain attached to her skirt.
When Fantasio began giving me series of dreamy sketches called “Sam’s Visions”, he again sketched a chain hanging on her skirt. The chain is also heavily featured in the cool frame he designed for the Sam’s Visions sketches.Hmmm. I thought it over and added it to the cannon of the story:
“She was wearing a crinkled black gown covered with intricate black-on-black designs, low cut, showing off arms and shoulders and a fair amount of her cleavage, pulled tight into an hour-glass shape. The final strange touch was a chain wrapping around the skirt portion of her gown and dragging on the ground.”
So, I stuck the chain in and meant to leave it at that, just a weird detail, nothing more. But then, my little pea-brain began wondering: what’s the chain for? It had to be there for something. I added the exchange:
“What happened to your clothes?” Kay asked.
“My clothes? I lost them,” she said, her whispered voice trembling.
“Lost them? What’s with the chain?”
“Oh, it’s a tradition. Don’t pay it any mind.”
I thought to leave it at that. But then, I was at the tail end of a thirty-hour editing binge and my addled head went off in a strange direction. Quite without my consent, the purpose of the chain came into clarity:
She snorted. “We’ve played this game before. You can’t hide from me. Hide anywhere you want and I can find you like that!” She snapped her fingers. “And …” she took a deep whiff, “I can smell you, Kay.” She licked her lips.
“I think this time you’ll be a bit more challenged.”
She got off and huddled up on the dusty ground. “All right. Go hide, Kay. Hide anywhere in the castle you want. You have an hour. Oh, and Kay?”
“Yes?”
She seized a piece of old mortar and shattered it in her hand. “You best get that chain and don’t be afraid to use it when I find you.”
So, that’s what the chain’s for. Still a little fuzzy. How about this:
She pulled the chain off her skirt. “You’re going to need this …” She threw the chain over her shoulder. Kay made to get past her and grab it and she tackled him.
Ah, love …
Bowl Naked
RG
copyright 2011 Ren Garcia and Fantasio
A Gift to the Reader: Illustrations and The Undressed
January 6, 2011
Illustrations are a gift from the author to the reader. As a boy, I loved my Narnia books. They were rife with little illustrations that drew me into the story and made me want to turn the page and get to the next one. As an author, I want to give that same gift to the reader.
I always have several ready-made illustrations for each book. I never dictate to my cover artist, Carol Phillips, what the cover for each book is going to be. It’s a collaborative effort and I try to include Carol as much as possible. I usually give her four or five ideas, detailing them out to her as necessary. She then draws up a little thumbnail of each one and we toss them around and pick. “I really like this one,” Carol will usually say and I go with her judgment. Like I said–it’s my book, but it’s not my book; it’s a collaboration.The above illustration was one of those cover ideas that didn’t make it to the cover. It was #2 of 4–with #4 eventually being selected for the cover. So, once it’s all said and done, I have these wonderful sketch concepts with no place to go. The next logical place to put them is in the interior, where they can light up the pages. Everything Carol draws is a masterpiece, and it’s a shame to see any of it go to waste.
Another consideration for picking the cover-interior illustrations is content. As with many of my ideas, they often skirt the boundaries of good taste, where the difference between being dressed and undressed is a whole lot of clothes, and, you can get away with a bit more nudity in the interior of the book then you can on the cover. My big guiding influence has always been Michael Moorcock, who, unlike C.S. Lewis or J.R.R. Tolkien, was always rather unabashed with the dress (or undress) of his characters, and I happily follow that model. I recall being astonished reading Moorcock’s work, where you could have long conversations or fight scenes between completely undressed people. Quite an eye-opener and Carol, being a fairy artist, is always up for drawing “The Undressed”. Take a good hard look at the illustration–what do you see?? A couple of naked people here and there, a little S&M going on–yep. One variation from the book is Kay being fully dressed, as, in the book, he’s not dressed at all–everybody’s naked.
This illustration, along with twenty more shall be featured in TOTEH, The Dead Held Hands.
Bowl Naked
RG
Copyright 2011, Carol Phillips
On Immortality
January 5, 2011
I write for entirely selfish reasons.
I want to live forever–simple as that.
I got a call from a good friend of mine yesterday.”Hey, did you hear about Dave?”
“No,” I said.
“He’s dead,” my friend replied.
Wow. Forty-three years old. Dead. It makes you wonder. It doesn’t really matter how you prop yourself up. You could hedge your bet by living a righteous life, denying yourself every pleasure, swallowing vitamins and sucking down soy milk, and it just doesn’t matter. Your number’s up, it’s up, and there’s no getting another one unless you choose to downgrade and head over to the Butterfly Line.
So, that’s why I write. That’s why I spend five hours every evening in the freezing cold basement dreaming up things that exist nowhere except in my head. It’s a pretty selfish thing, to want to be immortal, to want to reach out and be heard beyond the fair allotment of life I was given.
Through my words, the concrete vault that will be poured over my coffin one day means nothing.
My grandfather was gone before I was born. Heart attack. Happens in my family–in fact, I’m probably several million beats overdue. Who was my grandfather, I ask my dad every so often. And he sits down and shows me pictures and tries to recall his father as best he can, but the memory fades and the anecdotes don’t seem real. All I had for a long time were faded black and whites of a strange man in a strange suit from a time long gone. And then, my mom found an old suitcase in the attic full of musty old things. Mixed into the sundries was a crinkly old note written in my grandfather’s hand to my older sister.
“You need to quit acting up in school, and stop giving the nuns such a hard time. A sharp paddling is for your own good, and don’t you forget it. I want you to stand there and take it like a Garcia and don’t cry.”
So there he was–the long gone man had a voice fresh and new, leaping out from the past demanding strength and virtue under fire. Apparently he wants my sister to quit acting up. He didn’t get his wish, much, but, his words keep his wants alive. “Stand there and take it.” Maybe they should have put that on his tombstone.
So, I write. When my suitcase comes down some day in the future, it’ll be full of a whole trove of my words and my voice waiting to be heard again.
Cast a spell, write a verse, and let your voice be heard from the vault of death. Be immortal.
Bowl Naked
RG
TOTEH CHARACTERS: Torrijayne and Sygillis
January 4, 2011
COUNTESS SYGILLIS OF BLANCHEFORT AND DUCHESS TORRIJAYNE OF OYLNare characters that appear in the Temple of the Exploding Head trilogy. Both of them are ex-Black Hats, Syg having been turned in the original LoE book, and Torri in book 2. Syg and Torri have a bad history together, and were mortal enemies as Black Hats, often ignoring the Sisters on the battlefield so that they could fight each other instead.
As civilized, tamed ladies of the League, Syg and Torri no longer try to kill each other, however, they are still enemies, just on a social level. When invited to the same parties, they try to humiliate each other. Syg attacked Torri with StT’s that ate through her clothes at a recent ball, leaving her quite naked. Torri snuck a potion into Syg’s tea that turned her teeth black and flooded Blanchefort village with funny Syg-tee-shirts. They destroyed the buffet table at a party with wind and smoke as they attempted to Out-Waft one another. And on and on.
Despite their hatred of each other, Syg and Torri are good friends with their respective husbands. Torri often has Captain Davage in stitches with her off-color “Syg Jokes”. Torri also adores Syg’s children, Kay being her favorite. They often write each other, Kay referring to her with the code name: Dimples.
copyright 2011, Ren Garcia
News, Notes & Billygoats
January 1, 2011
Just a few quick things to start the new year.
THE DEAD HELD HANDS: Just as I’m ready to get back the edited copy of The Dead Held Hands, I’ve got a whole slew of changes, additions, and deletions. Of course an author is never truly finished massaging a piece of work, and I’m no exception. I wanted to “Activate” the first few chapters and streamline it a little bit. The changes make for a better read, but the MS will need to be edited again. Eh, yeah, sorry about that …
A couple of the changes in a nutshell:
Addition: Chapter 2: The Pale Ghost: Thirteen year old Lord Kabyl is troubled to learn that a “Pale Ghost” has been shadowing him for quite some time. His little sister, Lady Kilos, has inherited her great grandmother’s books of witchcraft and tries to perform an exorcism, getting rid of the pesky ghost once and for all.
Addition: Chapter 3: The Last Day of His Life: Lacking the Gift of Sight, unable to lift his father’s CARG and feeling himself a general failure, Kay plans to kill himself by jumping off a high balcony. A responsible kid, Kay tries to make certain the recovery and clean-up of his body will be as easy and mess-free as possible. That’s important to him. He’s certain he won’t be missed too much.
Appearances: If there’s a bake sale, craft show, flea market or parking lot gathering in the central Ohio area, you can bet I’ll be there and I’ll have my books with me. My next Big Showing will be at Millenicon in Cincinnati, Ohio March 18-20 with Loconeal Publishing. I’m also thinking about heading to Capricon 31 in Chicago, Feb 10-13. Here’s Capricon 31’s info: http://www.capricon.org/capricon31/index.php
Notes:
CHANTAL BOUDREAU: Congrats to the prolific and incredibly talented Chantal Boudreau as she kicks off her publishing career with Elements of Genocide. I only wish I could do what Chantal does, and I’m certain her first book will be a huge success. See Chantal’s blog at: http://chantellyb.wordpress.com/author/chantellyb/ I hope I get to be Chantal’s first customer.
JUSTINE MARIE HEDMAN: A huge talent with both word and ink, Justine’s finally ready to start shopping her fantasy epic: The Trials of Ephira: Beginning of the End. Good luck, Justine. I hope your busy schedule will allow you to draw me a few more great pics this year (fingers crossed).
Billygoats: A Clear Murder Threat
<–This posting could be a critical piece of evidence at my murder trial. I am eagerly awaiting the completion of the oft mentioned but seldom seen League of Elder Graphic Novel by MFK Comics. I’ve seen the script, so I know it exists. The talented writer, Daniel Morris, has overcome a few adaptation issues (“I hate your book, Ren, and, by extension, I hate you as well!”) and artist Jon Harvey has gotten the sordid details of his life worked out, so I’m certain 2011 will be a big year for the Graphic Novel. The health and safety of MFK comics depends on it.
So, I’m looking at you, boys … and I’ve got my gun.
Bowl Naked
RG
copyright 2010 Ren Garcia
Hiei
December 29, 2010
The Sisters use Hiei as a vast repository for arcane books they keep in their collection. The books are stored in a gigantic vault under the castle. The upper levels are uses as dormitories for Sisters on sabbatical. The books kept at Hiei are considered to be of medium-level security, meaning nothing there is thought to be overly sensitive or dangerous.
The Grand Abbess of Hiei is, for a Sister, rather open and progressive. She allows non-Sisters to visit the castle and study some of the books in their collection. Of course there are a number of rigid conditions that must be met:
1)–You must be favored of the Sisters and have a Programmable designation of no less than: Canistronmi
2)–Any wishing to visit Hiei must ask for permission in writing a year in advance.
3)–Any approaching Hiei must come on foot. No civilian vehicles may pass within a hundred miles of the castle.
4)–The Sisterhood must pre-approve any and all content for viewing. Any books considered RESTRICTED shall not be viewable.
5)–No photographic, visual or scanning equipment is permitted inside the castle. Hand-written notes are permitted as long as they are first reviewed and approved by the Sisters.
6)–Any visiting Hiei shall have a Sister observe them at all times.
7)–Any attempting to steal property belonging to the Sisterhood of Light shall be considered “encastate” and their lives shall be deemed forfeit.
copyright 2011, Ren Garcia












