Read chapters 1-6 of The Zi'veyn, first of The Devoted trilogy, for free right here!
I'm also on Patreon!


Thursday 14 May 2020

The Girl in the Crystal Tree - 2020 Fresher Prize Short-Listed

   My short story, The Girl in the Crystal Tree, has been short-listed in the Fresher Publishing Prize!

   The Girl in the Crystal Tree is a short story from my upcoming supplementary book, Hlífrún, and I was so pleased with the reception it got from beta-readers that I decided to take a chance and submit it to the competition. I was hoping to get long-listed, with short-listed being a far less likely goal. Winning is rarely on my mind, especially among so many other worthy writers. So, to be short-listed is an amazing feat, and I'm over the moon!

   The short story will be released within Hlífrún on June 20th, but it may also be shared separately, owing to this achievement.





Thursday 7 May 2020

Hlífrún Book Release Schedule

   On June 20th, Hlífrún, a short stand-alone supplementary novel to The Devoted trilogy (between The Sah'niir and book 3), will be released - 150 pages of short stories following the wildlings' plight against the Midsummer disaster. I wrote this over Camp NaNoWriMo in April 2019 and it has been through waves of beta reading to ensure it does stand on its own. I'm immensely excited about it, because it's quite different to how I would usually write.

   Below is the hype schedule. Patrons will see most of this a week or two sooner, as well as more posts over the 'art week'. There will also be a Patreon-exclusive hardback book with additional content. Outside of this, it will be available on Kindle on June 20th, as well as in pocket paperback in my Etsy shop, and on Amazon paperback around June 22nd. There will be a giveaway for a Patreon-exclusive hardback happening 2 weeks before release, too.

   Most of this will take place on Twitter and Instagram, with static posts happening here and Facebook, too.


https://www.instagram.com/p/B_0OLsyjbTR/




Tuesday 5 May 2020

The Hermit

Collaboration with Frenone for a limited-run tarot set

Estimated reading time: 3 minutes
 
 
    All askafroa are protective of their ash tree. Consumed with concern for its health, their spirits and fates intertwined, they are vicious when approached. Few with any sense go near inhabited trees, day or night, for fear of the nymphs' wrath. Treading accidentally upon their roots usually results in the most ruthless ailments, and snapped twigs in curses of entire households.
   But where all other askafroa relished in their devotion to their verdant sanctums, one had grown lonely. Once, she'd adored the isolation; her tree had been enough. But now, she was tired. All thoughts were her own, opinions were her own; there was no argument, no discussion, no sharing or stories. Nothing and no one approached the aggressive little nymph. Even the birds feared her boughs.
   In time, she turned ever further into herself, hiding from her empty life. She dove deeper and deeper into her beloved tree, searching for the comfort that had once filled her so completely. She sank into the bark, slipped into the grain, seeped into the sap, but no matter how deep she receded, she could find no comfort. She found only her own heart, a knot of rotten wood. There was no contentment. There was no love. No joy. She realised she hadn't felt any such thing in a very long time.
   She began to cry tears stolen from the roots, and her voice rasped in sorrow. She hadn't spoken in a very long time, either.
   As her throat ached, she realised at last what she had long refused to face. And she knew, fearfully, how to fix it.
   Humans came on Wednesday. A whole village, each carrying a jug of water in shaking hands. They were pallid as they poured it, one by one, over the roots of her tree. She watched them as she always did from the safety of the branches.
   When the village elder poured the final jug and spoke his hallowed, beseeching words, she held her breath and scurried like a squirrel down the trunk.
   The whole village shrank back. She stared at them closely. They were peculiar, their skin so smooth, free of flaky lichen. But they didn't look scary. They looked frightened.
   She made her decision.
   Bracing herself, gritting her teeth, she reached a twiggy arm up into the branches and pulled one free. It hurt, but it was nothing like she'd been told; snagged hair, not a broken finger.
   Tentatively, she handed it to the elder. It would make a fine and sturdy spear shaft, or a whole quiver of hunting arrows.
   The surprise and gratitude upon their faces warmed her strangely, and she vanished quickly back into the tree, feeling fulfilled despite her loss.
   From then onwards, humans weren't so afraid of the askafroa, and visited often, watering her roots in exchange for strong wood or honeydew for the apiaries, and stories. And she savoured their visits. Despite her kin's disapproving whispers, she had opened her heart.
 
 
 
Words copyright © Kim Wedlock
No part is to be reproduced without my permission. 
Written based on the Hermit tarot card for a collaborative project with Frenone



Wednesday 1 April 2020

The Hierophant

Collaboration with Frenone for a limited-run tarot set

Estimated reading time: 3 minutes
 
 
    "The juniper's berries, hot in the third degree, dry in the first, are key in countering poisoning, and are a powerful ingredient in the resistance of pestilence. The ashes of the--"
   "I am a centaur."
   Apollo looked up from the variety of herbs laid out across the sun-lit table and blinked at the scowling young man. "...Yes, Chiron, you are."
   "So what good are the properties of juniper berries among my people? Or music, for that matter? Or archery? Centaur are strong just as we are! We don't need weapons! Nor oracles!" He rose to his hooves and tossed the bowl of juniper leaves across the table, gritting his teeth while offence seared in his deep, dark eyes. He watched the condescending patience ooze from the god's rich bearing, standing as he was, his arms folded across his proud chest while he stared back with an infuriatingly gentle expression on his face.
   "Learning this won't help me to fit in! What value is this to them? To me?! How will the other centaur accept me among them when I don't know their ways, only yours?!"
   "And what are their ways?" He asked calmly. "Lust? Anger? Violence?"
   "Passion!"
   "Unruliness?"
   "No," he glowered, "wildness. As wild as untamed horses! And they are your sons, yet you speak so ill of them!"
   Apollo shook his laurel-wreathed head. "No. I merely speak the truth of them. As indeed do you. You do know their ways. So why do you not adopt them?"
   "Because you, dear foster father, will not allow me."
   "I've held you back?"
   "Yes!" Chiron boomed, storming around the table towards him in a thunder of hooves. "With all your teachings! Filling my head with useless things that will never help me find my place! You are a god, and the centaur are your sons! I am also a centaur - not of your blood, perhaps, but I am one all the same! But I've never been given the chance to prove it! Why would you wish to isolate me like this? Wish to make me so...different? Wish to make me suffer? Handicap me, blind and deafen me to my true culture? My true nature?!"
   "How," Apollo cocked his head, his voice still as soft and deliberate as ever, "can you know your own true nature if it isn't allowed to bloom? You remain here by choice, though you may not wish to admit it. Your door is not locked. You need not come to me every sunrise - but you do."
   "I'm not welcome among my kin! I have nowhere else to go!"
   "You do, once you acknowledge that you can turn around."
   "Enough of your philosophy!"
   "It's simply a truth."
   "Truth, truth, truth," his tail flicked, but he kept his itching back leg from lashing out and kicking the table away, "only the truths you wish me to know! You would turn me into what you want me to be!"
   "I would turn you into what you truly are."
   "And what, exactly, am I?!"
   A gentle smile curled the god's lips, a smile that abruptly froze the centaur's ire. "You, Chiron, are you. I'm simply teaching you how to find it."


 
Words copyright © Kim Wedlock
No part is to be reproduced without my permission.
Written based on the Hierophant tarot card for a collaborative project with Frenone.