Valentine’s Day Epic Book Sale

February 13, 2023 / F.T. McKinstry

In my never-ending quest to uphold a reputation, I tend to look upon Valentine’s Day with all the warmth of the Winter Warlock. Try to give me a choo-choo and I will sic my monster trees on you.

The thing is, beneath my wintry fortress, I can be a bit of a softie. Despite my curmudgeonly self, I appreciate the people in my life: friends, family, social media peeps, geeks and readers alike. I am grateful.

So, I’ve decided to show my love with a book sale. Depending on what you’re into, it might not compete with chocolate and roses, but hey, that shit’s expensive (especially on Valentine’s Day). A story lasts forever. Dark stories about wizards, warlords, fiends and shadows last even longer. Heh.

February 13-15, all the books in my epic fantasy series the Chronicles of Ealiron will be on sale on Amazon. The first four of these books are normally $4.99.

Want some more chocolate? A Northward Gaze will also be free! In this gothic fantasy tale, an old forest with a dark history, a tryst with an elven lord and a series of grisly, unexplained deaths drives a woman into the labyrinth of a faerie curse put on her bloodline in a centuries-old crossroads bargain.

See? Softie. And choo-choos are cool–especially those elven-made ones.

Love you all. Stay safe and well.

Otherworld Deviltry and the Crossroads Metaphor

February 8, 2023February 11, 2023 / F.T. McKinstry

One of the staples of folklore, legends and fairy tales is making deals with the Powers That Be (Rumpelstiltskin, The Girl without Hands, Nix by the Mill Pond). This might be motivated by curiosity or longing; but most often, it’s an attempt to escape a desperate situation. This can be something as simple as praying for deliverance in return for, say, a promise to be a better person next time. (Good luck with that.)

Or, it can take the shape of a classic deal with the devil, and we all know what that will get you. Bad things.

Sometimes, if you’re not only desperate but close to the veil, the otherworld might seek you out. This happens to the protagonist of The Sea Witch’s Bargain, a short story about an ordinary hedge witch with some heavy otherworld connections. While on the run from a brotherhood of sorcerers, she unwittingly enters the lair of a sea witch, a devious, malevolent creature who tricks her into performing a dangerous task in return for help in escaping her situation. This is non-negotiable, of course.

Any divine entity worth its salt will guide you to find your own strength because let’s face it, one desperate situation often leads to another, and the universe isn’t your personal wizard. But why summon your own strength when you can play with fire and summon something from the otherworld? That’s easier and much more exciting. You’ll get what you ask for, even if it’s stupid. And you might even be happy for a time—until your payment comes due.

An otherworld being like a demon, a jinn or an elf serves itself. It will look upon your troubles with cavalier disdain and will demand a high price for its services, a price it won’t bother to mention, or sounds simple enough, or couldn’t possibly be as bad as your original problem. Thou fool! These beings are tricky and they don’t lose. And, well, you signed in blood on the dotted line, didn’t you.

The Crossroads

Crossroads symbolism appears in ancient religions, medieval folklore and hoodoo (Faust, Robert Johnson). The place where two paths meet is liminal, like a gate, the border of a forest, a well, a cave, etc. These places hold power because they are between the worlds, a point of transition. They are also frequented by beings on the other side who are looking for a foothold in this world. Tales abound of idiots who use crossroads to summon otherworld entities for personal gain. This usually involves a sacrifice, whether it is something the summoner offers up, is demanded by the summoned, or both.

While folklore advises steering clear of crossroads, it is a powerful psychological metaphor. We’ve all reached crossroads in our lives, where we must choose a path that involves letting go of something we’re attached to. This could be an old pattern, an outworn belief, something like that. And who hasn’t tried wriggling out of doing that by bargaining with one’s demons? Those kinds of choices can bind us in unhappy situations for years.

My original idea for A Northward Gaze involved a woman in an old manor house who sees faces and shapes in the floral patterns of her bedroom wallpaper. As darkness unfolds, however, she discovers a devastating family curse that began with a three-centuries-old crossroads bargain with the Elven Fae. Beautiful, terrible, inscrutable and utterly seductive, the elves will continue their unholy rampage unless she gives up the one thing most dear to her in all the world. Because the most powerful choices require the greatest sacrifices.

For examples of what not to do on a crossroads, you can read A Northward Gaze on Amazon for much cheaper than an elf would charge you. Enjoy…and be careful what you wish for.

The Metamorphosis of a Book Cover

January 31, 2023February 11, 2023 / F.T. McKinstry / 2 Comments

Earlier this year, I released a novella called The Crossroads Bargain, a gothic fantasy tale about an old forest with a dark history, a tryst with an elven lord, a lot of unexplained deaths and disappearances, and a faerie curse cast in a centuries-old crossroads bargain.

I created the cover art in the usual way. But for some reason, it unsettled me; it wasn’t quite what I was looking for. There were nervous whispers. I brushed them aside, knowing full well how reckless that is.

Just recently, I did a painting of a scene from the book, in which our protagonist, a sensitive, tormented sort, fades into the faerie realm and there sees the hall of an elven lord tucked into the forest. As I worked on this, a calm whisper suggested that it might make a good cover image.

Okay but I’m keeping that spiderweb.

Then, I suddenly thought of a title, from a saying in the story that describes what to do on a crossroads if you want to summon something from the otherworld:

A northward gaze; a wish as clear as a mountain stream; and a willingness to sacrifice the unimaginable.

Yeah, that little bit of advice causes all manner of horrors, by the way. But never mind that. My new cover came together so beautifully, I decided to change it. It captures the vibe of the story well.

A Northward Gaze is now available on Amazon. Oh, and about those crossroads instructions. Don’t try that shit at home.

New Cover Art and a Freebie

January 6, 2023January 30, 2023 / F.T. McKinstry

Happy New Year!

For a while now, I’ve had this dark little wolf in my head. Well, ok, my mind is full of all kinds of wild things at any given time–but this guy needed a furever home. So, after painting him, I put him on the cover of one of my books: Raven of the West, a standalone short story that’s part of the Chronicles of Ealiron.

The protagonist of this story is named Urien. He belongs to the highest order of the Keepers of the Eye, a hierarchical order of wizards who maintain balance in the world of Ealiron. Among other things, Urien can shapeshift into flora, fauna, earth, or fog, and he can cast an apparition or merge with the minds of gods. For years, he has haunted the fringe after having loved and lost a powerful wizard on the verge of ascension. But such secrets do not hide well, and when he delves into the darker powers at the bidding of a shady priestess with a hidden agenda, Urien finds himself facing the loss of everything he loves.

To celebrate my lupine invisible friend, Raven of the West will be FREE on Amazon, all day Saturday, January 7. This story is around 60 pages long, gives a rich, detailed picture of the wizards’ realm in Ealiron, and delves into all kinds of unsavory things like witchcraft, heartbreak, vengeance and disasters at the hands of the powerful.

Dark and darker. But fear not! Light always follows, and the days are getting longer now.

Raven of the West on Amazon

A Northward Gaze, A Novella

October 23, 2022February 11, 2023 / F.T. McKinstry

Previously published as The Crossroads Bargain by F.T. McKinstry.

Elspet’s mother died between the worlds, her staring eyes as milky white as a lily. A common occurrence in their bloodline, it is said. Even marrying into Aelfwine, an old family with as many secrets as trees in the dark wood that borders the estate, did not qualify her to be buried in hallowed ground. This fact is not lost on Elspet, a sensitive, tormented soul who has inherited her mother’s wayward interest in the Fae.

Grieving amid a turbulent household of superstitious servants, the mysterious disappearance of her father, and an ambitious aunt with a draconian agenda, Elspet begins to see things in her bedroom wallpaper. What begins as a mesmerizing portal to the Otherworld, however, becomes all-consuming when a beautiful elven lord slips through and captures her heart. Only Elspet knows the reason for the series of grisly, unexplained deaths that flood into the wake of her lost innocence.

What she doesn’t know is the high cost of consorting with the Fae. When her otherworldly trysts begin to result in impossible events, she is driven into the forest for answers. But not even the village witch or the Fae themselves can stop her inexorable descent into her mother’s fate. After a devastating loss, Elspet is drawn into a war between her lover and his enemy—an elven warlock who cursed her bloodline on a crossroads centuries ago.

To end the curse, she must destroy him with a secret whispered in a dream.

Novella, 120 pages
Available on Amazon.
Read for free on Kindle Unlimited.

Tolkien Meets Poe

October 15, 2022February 11, 2023 / F.T. McKinstry

I am a passionate and dedicated fan of high fantasy; that is, any world other than this one and preferably one that smacks of a fairy tale, though not in a wholesome way. You know, like those old, dark Irish or German fairy tales that are not written for children. Beautiful things cast long shadows, and the summit is never far from the abyss kind of thing. Think J.R.R. Tolkien meets Edgar Allan Poe.

I started reading these authors roughly around the same time, when I was a kid in the 70s. Tolkien changed my life, I’ll just say that. Among other things, Poe’s short stories and a steady diet of Dark Shadows messed me up properly and got me hooked on Gothic Horror.

So this kind of crept up on me recently, the way the universe sometimes gives you a bitch slap so you’ll recognize what you’ve been looking at all along. While I love Gothic Horror, especially the supernatural–ghosts, werewolves, vampires, witches and the like–I never sat down and tried to write something like that, not specifically. But it was there nonetheless, slinking around in my work like a shadow in the corner of my eye.

Then this happened: A story flashed into my head. It was right out of one of those 60s pulp Gothic Horror novels, with a voluptuous sex kitten in a white nightgown fleeing over the moors from a black castle on the hill. It also featured the kind of fairytale lore I like to write into high fantasy novels. Yeah. My subsequent internal dialogue went something like this:

Writer me: I don’t know how to write this stuff.
Smarter me: You’ve been writing this stuff for years.
Writer me: Rubbish. This isn’t fantasy.
Smarter me: Um. It has elves in it.
Writer me: So. He’s not–
Smarter me: He’s a fucking elf. Beautiful, moves between the worlds, enchanting, seductive, and sneaky. So he’s not from the House of Fëanor, big deal.
Writer me: It’ll suck. You suck.
Smarter me: Whatever. Get to work.

So I did. It’s a novella called A Northward Gaze. A manor hall bordering an old forest with a dark history, a family curse, a string of grisly, unexplained deaths and a fey young woman who sees otherworld beings in the floral patterns of her bedroom wallpaper. Spoiler alert: Our aforementioned elf is one of them and he’s up to no good. Well, maybe. Maybe not. The Fae are tricky like that.

The Rise and Fall of Lovely Sentences

September 18, 2022September 19, 2022 / F.T. McKinstry

Redcap. One of the most malevolent beings of the Otherworld, the goblin liked to tease Twigs with trickery, such as leaving a fetid bouquet of her mother’s favorite flowers on the steps, or offering deadly mushrooms for a soup, laughing as she refused. But as surely as the sun set each day, the wicked creature would have something far darker in mind, something that would result in a big enough puddle of blood in which to soak its cap. – From Masters of the Veil, Book Three in The Fylking

One of the grimmest realities of writing is the fickle nature of words. Sometimes, a sentence, phrase or passage comes out of the void on an angel’s wings and reminds us why we do this. And we need that reminder. Because most of the time, we have no idea why we do this.

A written work such as a novel is an ever moving, flowing being with its own agenda. Not every sentence has its place in the overall scheme of things, no matter how pretty it is. If you’re good at editing–and by that I mean you are a cold, merciless bastard–you’ll get wise to this. Sometimes, that beautiful sentence you thought of three months ago isn’t quite so beautiful anymore. It doesn’t fit, it’s irrelevant, purplish or flawed, and you would be a vain little fop to leave it in there. Your editor will surely cut it–because there’s that other thing…oh yeah, readers. Just because you think it’s a beautiful sentence doesn’t mean they will. Someone might read it, yawn and think, “What rubbish.” So there’s that.

This is the kind of thing that drives authors to drown themselves in scotch and spend the night sobbing and pissing in a gutter somewhere.

But there is hope. Your ability to bring up that beautiful sentence will allow you to bring up another, and another, and on, because creativity is infinite and ever-expanding. It is always fresh because things are constantly dying and falling away to make room for other things in a much greater picture. Just look at nature. It keeps growing, cycling and expanding, and it is always what it is. Writing is like that.

So be warned: now and then, I might play the Insufferable Writer card and drop a sentence or three out here for you to read.

If nothing else, you’ll know I’m actually working on my next book.

Way Too Many Horror Movies

August 8, 2022 / F.T. McKinstry / 2 Comments

Hi campers. Still hanging in there? I hope so.

I am finally working on the third book in The Fylking, after a hiatus. Sometimes life plays hardball; other times, it takes a while for a novel to brood. In this case, it’s both. I’m cool with that.

The title is still eluding me. Something about warlocks, masters, veils, crows, I don’t know. Whenever I choose something, five minutes later I’m tossing it in the bin with a scowl. But fear not. When I get more deeply into the story, the real title will no doubt make itself known with a flourish.

So I am back in the zone, apparently. Late last night, while getting ready for bed, I casually glanced into the other room and noticed something weird. High up on a window curtain, tucked into a fold, was a dark blotch, frayed at the edges, several inches in diameter. How long has that been there? I wondered.

Chilled, I peered at it. An enormous spider? No, this isn’t Australia. A scorpion? Not a Bolivian jungle, either. Oh! Maybe a little brown bat, clinging there. That could happen.

Things got darker. A stain, perhaps—but of what, way up there? Blood wouldn’t look like that. Still peering. Flesh-eating bacteria? The blotch seemed to move as I stared at it. I imagined it shooting out with unbelievable speed and latching onto me like an Alien facehugger. Maybe it’s mold. Yeah, extraterrestrial mold. It’ll slowly spread until it consumes me, the entire neighborhood, the planet.

I swear, it’s moving.

The cat is asleep on the chair underneath the curtain. Suspiciously.

Finally, I ventured over there to have a look. And then, with a shock, I realized just how far out into the water I had drifted. The culprit? An ornament of a flying gargoyle that’s been hanging from the moulding above the curtain for, I don’t know, fifteen years probably. Hey, if you look at something long enough, you forget about it. Right?

Seriously, though. What just happened?

Here’s a thought. The faculties that drive me to write dark fantasy also have me staring at the blur of a cobwebbed Gothic Christmas ornament for ten minutes like a protagonist in Stranger Things.

Put another way, the gulf between one’s perception of reality when they’re wearing their glasses or not is vast, murky and full of monsters.

Or, I just watch too many horror movies.

Winter Webs

January 16, 2022 / F.T. McKinstry

Greetings!

Here’s an interesting thing for lovers of nature, spiders, and all things Gothic. Last night, it dropped to a lovely -21°F (-29.4°C) here in northern New England, and early this morning, draped over the porch eaves, was a startling tangle of frozen orb-weaver spider webs.

While harmless, orb-weavers can get alarmingly big over the course of a summer, but their webs are more subtle (all the better to catch and eat you with). You don’t really notice them unless you’re sitting on the porch warily eyeing one of the hobbit-eaters perched in the center of a web glistening in the morning sun; or you unwittingly get a web in the face like an Alien Facehugger (accompanied by a near heart attack resulting from the image of a spider coming after you for revenge).