Tuesday, September 20, 2016

A Skyrim Story - Chapter One

When my kids got out of school for the summer, I knew I wouldn't get much writing done until they went back. So, since I was kind of on a 'summer break' myself, I flipped on the PS3 about halfway through and dusted off one of my favorite games, Skyrim.

I spent about a month fiddling with different aspects of the game, restarted multiple times with different characters... to the point that everyone in the house (my three teenage kids, my wife, myself... hell, even the dog and 2 cats!) can now do the entire intro word for word. Though I'll admit, some of those restarts were merely to see the expressions on their faces when they heard for the hundredth or so time:
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm."

"What the... what was that?"
"It's nothing. One of the guards in the
tower is constipated, that's all. Carry on."
I'm not going to repeat the whole intro because you get the idea. Oh, but I will say that the captions under the pics are NOT actual gameplay dialogue... that's just my warped sense of humor hard at work, and the pics help break up the writing a bit. Plus, it's fun to come up with crazy, humorous captions! Just thought I'd better make that clear! ;)
I watched a lot of YouTube videos as well, looking for tips and such, since I hadn't played the game in quite some time and was a bit rusty. And of course, part of the reason I started playing it again is because the re-mastered version of Skyrim is coming out soon for PS4 and Xbox One. I'm sure when it comes out I'll go buy it and start again. Ahh, the excitement within the wife and kids must be overwhelming... *grin*
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm..."
A lot of those vids were either old tips that no longer worked due to patches making them obsolete (who remembers the old smithing 1000 iron daggers!?), or were things that I stay away from - like the invisible Khajiit chest trick in Dawnstar.

Now, as I am a writer, I figured, why not do more than just list the tips for Skyrim that I wanted to share? Why not make it fun? Since my job is to entertain readers, I thought I'd share the tips by doing a bit of storytelling to bring them to you.
We'll be following along with Kylie, one of the characters from my fantasy series. Go ahead, smirk if you want, but having kickass female characters in leading roles is kind of my thing in all of my books, so most of the characters I create when I play Skyrim tend to be female. Not always, but most of the time.

Some of the kickass women from my books. From left to right:
Jenna, Kylie, Celeste, and Kaly
As one of my favorite characters from my fantasy series happens to be Kylie Destaine (though I love all these girls!), I thought it would be fun to pull Kylie out of Tal'Avern, drop her into Skyrim, and have her sort of 'live through' the tips I wanted to share. And before any of you ask, the answer is yes... under the hood, Kylie is a  redhead with green eyes. Feel free to check out my official website (link is up top on the right) if you have no idea why I said that or are just curious - the answer is there, along with lots of other stuff.
With that being said, enough of an intro! Chapter One! 

Chapter One

Welcome to Skyrim

      "We probably shouldn't stick around in case he comes back," Ralof suggested. "My sister, Gerdur, runs the mill in Riverwood. I'm sure she'd help you out. It's probably best if we..."
      Kylie was already sprinting down the dirt path and was out of earshot before he had finished his sentence. She'd never been one to tag along with others, and wasn't about to start now! Besides, she was still coming to grips with suddenly finding herself in an unfamiliar world. Plus, she didn't want to give Ralof a chance to recall some of the things after the dragon had attacked, just as the headsman was preparing to remove Kylie's head from her shoulders.
     Reaching a stony road, Kylie stopped for a moment to catch her breath and placed a hand on her stomach as an ominous feeling that she was reliving a horrible nightmare sent a cold chill through her body.
     There were dragons on her world. They hadn't been seen in over a thousand years, but then they'd come back. Kylie remembered the cold feeling that had gone through her the first time she'd seen one. It had felt as if her blood had turned to ice. She'd barely escaped with her life then, too.
     While dragons were not new to her, it seemed that something similar was happening on this world. Ralof had said that dragons hadn't been seen in so long that they'd become nothing more than children's stories and legends, after all.
     Kylie forced herself to calm down and collect her thoughts. First, what the hell had happened? She'd been having an ale and playing Elemental Dice, and then suddenly, everything vanished and she was practically naked! Her armor was gone, her weapons... all she was wearing was a dirty ragged shirt and pants,  and she was sitting on a cart going down an unfamiliar road, with three men who she didn't know sitting in the cart with her! One of them had been gagged, and all of them - including her - had their hands bound.
     She'd quickly discovered that none of the abilities she had been granted on her world worked on this one. If they had, she could have shadow walked away from the whole situation.
     "No, I couldn't have," Kylie corrected herself, cursing under her breath. She'd been a Shadow Walker on her world - a human who was, in the most basic terms (though she and the others like her hated being referred to by it), an assassin who could travel through the shadows. But in order to do so, a Shadow Walker needed to be able to picture the destination in their mind.
     She knew nothing about this world, other than the fact that when she had asked, one of the men in the cart had looked at her as if she were crazy, but said it was called Tamriel, and that she was in the land known as Skyrim, the home of the Nords.
     None of that information helped her. She didn't know any of the landmarks or any places of interest that she could have focused on. And even if she did, Kylie had the sinking feeling that her shadow abilities had either been stripped away from her or were unable to be used on this world. She would have to adapt and get used to not having them to rely on.
     "Oh gods, I'm going to have to walk everywhere!" she groaned.
     The cart had stopped in a small town, where they had been told to get out. Then the list of names had started being called out, and the horrific realization had struck Kylie. She was about to be executed along with the others, even though no one knew who she was!
     And then, by a stroke of luck, just as her turn came and she was forced to get down on her knees with her head resting on the chopping block, watching as the headsman raised his axe... a dragon had landed on top of a nearby tower and attacked.

"Look out! The customer has assumed her ultimate form!"
"Quick, get some Chicken Nuggets!"
"But we don't serve them at 10:30 in the morning!"
     During the chaos that ensued, while the Imperial soldiers had their attention on the dragon, Kylie had bolted into another tower nearby, jumped out a window, and run through a good portion of what was left of the town before ducking into the keep. Ralof had been following close behind her and cut the ropes binding her hands.
     Ropes. They'd all had their hands bound by ropes! It was such a crude thing to use! On her world, she would have had iron shackles placed around her wrists. And then a slight smile touched Kylie's lips. She glanced down at her chest as she remembered that one of the first things Jenna had taught her when they were both members of the Thieves' Den was to always keep a lockpick hidden where no man ever thought to check. Maybe that's why they use ropes instead of iron shackles on this world, Kylie thought, and returned to going over what had happened in her mind.
     A few moments after Ralof had freed her hands, they had heard the sound of voices coming toward them from another hallway.
     "It's the Imperials!" Ralof had hissed, and quickly ducked off to the side of a closed iron gate, with Kylie hiding on the other side across from him. When the gate dropped open, Kylie and Ralof had jumped out from where they were hiding and attacked.
     She'd helped Ralof fight off the Imperial Officer and soldier who came through the gate, and thinking that maybe the Officer had a key to the locked door on the other side of the room, Kylie had searched her body. Sure enough, she found a key, which she'd quickly taken before her Stormcloak 'rescuer' noticed.
     He'd been rather whiney after the fight was over, constantly looking at the locked door and asking if she'd found a key to unlock it. The multiple sneak attacks Kylie had done to him with the daggers she'd taken from the two Imperials before finally unlocking the door probably didn't help his mood, but it was a great way for her to practice her Sneaking! She probably could have done it as long as she'd wanted to, but one could only listen to the same question being asked over and over for so long.
     They'd made it out of Helgen shortly after that without too much trouble, emerging back out into the open and completely free, just as the dragon who had unintentionally saved them from becoming several inches shorter flew past overhead, disappearing from sight a few moments later behind a distant mountain that looked like it had some kind of ruins on it. At that point, Kylie had taken off at a fast run, leaving Ralof talking to himself about his sister and her mill.
     "Alright, done reminiscing," Kylie muttered. It hadn't helped much. She knew that she wasn't on Tal'Avern anymore. Who had taken her from there, and for what purpose, was a complete mystery. Without knowing who had done it or even how it had been done, she had no way to get back to Tal'Avern. But why her? Why bring her here?
     Kylie sighed heavily. For whatever reason, she was on another world, in a land called Skyrim, where there was some kind of civil war going on. As if that weren't enough, on top of everything else, a dragon had returned, when none had been seen in like a thousand years.
     And if there was one dragon, Kylie thought nervously, there was bound to be more, if anything like what had happened on her world was beginning on this one.
     Noticing a trio of stones, Kylie hopped down from the rocks and went over to the standing stones. After studying each of them for a moment, she pressed her hand against the one with a depiction of a thief on it. At one time, that had been her profession, after all. She was no warrior, and she was certainly no mage. As she did, Kylie felt a surge of power go into her.
     "I'll take that as a good sign," she said, nodding in satisfaction. "I need all the positivity I can get."
     She had no idea where she was, but until she found some way to get back to her own world, Kylie grudgingly gave in to the fact that she was stuck in this one. But maybe she was looking at it the wrong way. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. She had a unique opportunity in front of her, after all. She could change professions, do things she'd never had a chance to do, and expand her skills.

A Thief, a Mage, and a Warrior walked into a bar...
Whoever the fourth one was, ducked. Probably why it's not there. ;)
     "First things first though," she muttered, taking a quick look at the various plants and flowers that dotted the side the of the road around her. "I need money."
     As a Shadow Walker, one of the things she'd had to rely on (on more than one occasion) were healing potions, so she knew a bit about alchemy - enough at least to know that a few easily obtained ingredients could make potions and poisons that would sell for more than enough to make it easy to do whatever she wanted. That could backfire, her inner voice cautioned. The ingredients which mixed into a healing potion on Tal'Avern might blow up in her face on Tamriel!
     Seeing the small village in the distance, Kylie starting making her way toward it, but then paused when she came across a crude, boarded path on the right. Curious, she stepped off the road and made her way up the small hill.
     Kylie had no idea who the man standing outside what appeared to be the entrance to a small mine was. But when he came at her with a sword in one hand and a shield held in the other, she wasn't really concerned with who he was.
     Maybe he thinks I'm one of those Imperial soldiers, Kylie thought as he rushed at her, shouting some cheesy line about how she would be so much easier to rob when she was dead. Well, she was wearing some of the gear she'd 'acquired' during her escape from that town. It was better than walking around in those thin, dirty clothes she'd found herself wearing when she'd initially appeared on the cart, though. What had the name of that town been? Holgen? Halga?
     "Helgen," she muttered, hoping to shut up the curious voice in her head that continued to wonder where she was and how she got there long enough to take care of the immediate threat that had started swinging his sword at her.
     The man was nothing more than a thug, a bandit... something like that. It didn't matter, regardless. He was trying to kill her, and Kylie had no intention of letting that happen.
     She'd picked up a few other choice items during her escape as well, after all. Like the swords she gripped, one in each hand.  Daggers had their place - they were great for sneak attacks, but swords had a better reach and could do more damage when stealth attacks weren't an option. Besides, she'd always preferred to use a sword in each hand.
     The fight was short. For all his threats, the bandit went down easily. Kylie stood there for a minute, chewing her lower lip and looking at the broken sign near the entrance which read 'Embershard Mine' as she considered whether or not to check it out.
     "Nah, I'll save it for another day," Kylie decided, ignoring the inner voice in her head that was attempting to persuade her to go into the mine. She could learn the Smithing skill and become a master blacksmith on this world!
     It was a tempting suggestion, Kylie had to admit. Blacksmithing was certainly a lucrative profession on her world, after all. It stood to reason that it was no different on this one. Probably even more so, what with the civil war that was apparently going on in Skyrim.
     With a shake of her head, Kylie set the idea aside... at least for now. She had a feeling there would be a reason why she didn't take advantage of the ore that was certainly inside the mine right away - even if it didn't seem apparent at that particular moment.
     She headed back in the direction of the nearby village, taking down a trio of wolves along the way. Their pelts would be useful in crafting some decent leather armor. With what she was wearing at the moment, she looked like a damn Imperial soldier, and that was the last impression she wanted to give - especially since there were certainly Stormcloak supporters in the village. Ralof was a Stormcloak, and he did say his sister ran the mill, after all. At any rate, Kylie knew she needed to rectify her appearance problem, and quickly.
     Upon entering the small village, Kylie was approached almost immediately by a man who called himself Sven. He mentioned an elf named Faendal that worked at the nearby mill, and that the two of them both had a thing for a certain girl in the village named Camila, who helped her brother at the general goods store.
     After boasting that he was the better man, so Camila couldn't possibly be interested in the elf, a nervous look crossed Sven's face for a moment. Quickly regaining his composure, he gave Kylie a fake letter he'd written and asked her to give it to Camila, but to say that it was from Faendal. Before Kylie could object, Sven flicked his hair, stuck his nose up in the air as if he was certain that Kylie wanted him, just like every other woman in the village, and walked away.
"Every woman in this village wants me!"
"Yeah, because a grown man who still lives with his
mother in a one room house is such a turn-on, Sven!"
     If there was one thing Kylie hated, it was men like Sven. She took a single step toward him and stopped, resisting the temptation to call him back over, bury her swords in his chest, and whisper "Justice has been served" into his ear as his dying breath gasped out. That had been the Shadow Walker way, and on this world she didn't have the shadow realm in her corner. So she would do the next best thing.
     Since she had to get rid of the things she'd collected during her escape and knew the general goods store would certainly buy them, Kylie made her way over to the store, deciding to take care of two birds with one arrow.
     When she stepped inside, Kylie didn't bother to ask about the theft that had taken place there recently, which the shopkeeper and a young woman who she guessed was Camila were arguing about. Kylie unloaded her gear, getting a meager amount of coin for all of it, but not worrying too much about that. She would be swimming in gold soon enough, after all.
     "Are you Camila?" she asked, glancing at the girl, who gave her a surprised look.
     "Why, yes I am."
     "Here," Kylie said, holding out the fake letter to Camila. "Some jackass named Sven wanted me to give you this letter he wrote, but say it was from Faendal."
     As Camila opened up the letter and began to read, one hand flew up to her mouth and her eyes grew wide.
     "Sven wanted me to think Faendal wrote this?" she asked Kylie in disbelief when she had finished reading the letter. "I don't... I... thank you for telling me the truth. Would you let Faendal know about this? I'm sure he'll want to thank you as well for standing up for him."
     "Oh, I wasn't standing up for Faendal," Kylie replied easily with a casual shrug. "I've never even met him. But Sven is a stuck up asshat who thinks he's the gods' gift to women. I got the distinct impression that he expects every woman to swoon over him and do anything he wants. What better way to deflate his ego than to do the exact opposite of what he asked me to do and tell you the truth instead of lie?  If I do see him though, I'll let the elf know that you've chosen his dagger over Sven's... so to speak."
     Camila blushed furiously, focused her attention on the floor, and then walked quickly across the small room to a nearby table and sat down as Kylie opened the door and headed back outside.
     The day was already starting to wane by then, and Kylie was still walking around looking like an Imperial soldier. She needed to change that, and then concentrate on getting some serious cash in her pouch and maybe even think about finding a permanent place to live, in case there wasn't any way for her to return to Tal'Avern. Better to not get her hopes up and be pleasantly surprised rather than expect to get home and end up being disappointed, she thought.
     After talking to Faendal, who gratefully befriended her for helping him, Kylie set about her tasks. The first thing was to ask Faendal if he would trade some things with her. He would have given her everything he had, but after a quick look at what he was carrying, the only thing she asked for was the key to his house, which he was more than happy to give to her.
     "Don't get the wrong idea," Kylie warned him, seeing the hopeful light in the elf's eyes, which quickly faded away. When he nodded in disappointed understanding and pointed in the direction of his house, Kylie took her leave and headed off in that direction. 
     As soon as she entered, Kylie saw that her guess of Faendal doing some occasional hunting had been correct as she caught sight of a few Sabre Cat pelts on a shelf to her left. Along with the wolf pelts she already had, it would be more than enough to make herself some decent leather armor.
     After grabbing the armor and weapons that were sitting on a nearby table to sell (except the Hunting Bow, which she decided to keep for herself), and going through a few chests the elf had in the house, Kylie headed back to the mill and gave the key back to Faendal.
     "Could you show me a few tricks with the bow?" Kylie asked, thinking that being good with a bow might come in handy.
     "Certainly! I'll show you what I know... for a small price," Faendal replied happily, and began instructing her with some basic Archery tips. With each trick however, Kylie's gold supply went down. And she didn't have much to begin with.
     "Um... could I trade a few more things with you?" Kylie asked hesitantly when she realized she had given Faendal almost all of her gold.
     "What would you like?"
     "Well, I could use that," Kylie answered, pointing to the bulging coin pouch on his belt where he'd put all of the gold she had given to him so far.   
     Gods, if he's stupid enough to fall for it, she thought...
     As Faendal handed it to her, Kylie did her best to keep a straight face. Apparently he was that stupid.

"People say that I must be related to Patrick Star.
  I think that's a made-up name, because it sounds fishy."

     Faendal's knowledge in Archery was limited, and Kylie knew that there was only so much he could teach her. But with a bit of patience, she could learn every trick he had to teach and not pay a single gold for it. Perhaps the gods would wise up to Faendal's ignorance at some point and enlighten him enough so that he wouldn't 'trade' back the gold that people gave to him for his Archery tips, but such was not the case right now!
     After telling him that she had some things to do and he didn't need to follow her around, Kylie headed over to the blacksmith. With the pelts she had, Kylie used the blacksmith's tanning rack and nearby forge to craft some Leather Armor, Boots, and Bracers, sighing with relief when she put it on. Her newly crafted armor was not only a little bit more protective, it looked better.
     She had enough leather left over to craft a helm as well, but she decided not to. After all, cuteness over protection, she'd heard someone say once!
     By the time she was done, it had grown dark. Since the blacksmith had stopped working for the day, Kylie walked across the street, seeing the glow of candlelight from the windows of the general store. Despite how late it was, the door was unlocked. Apparently, the owner couldn't sleep, having been robbed of whatever it was that Kylie had heard him and his sister arguing about the first time she had gone in.
     Feeling a twang of guilt as he gave her a bit of gold for the Imperial gear she had previously been wearing, Kylie asked him what had been stolen.
     "An ornament, in the shape of a claw. Pure gold," the shopkeeper replied dejectedly. Her conscious getting the better of her, Kylie sighed.
     "I could try and get it back for you," she offered. "Do you know where they went?"
     The shopkeeper instantly perked up, while Camila stood up from the table and insisted on showing Kylie where the thieves had gone, despite her brother's objections.
     Kylie followed her outside and past the nearby inn to a bridge at the far end of the village, where Camila pointed to some arched stone ruins in the distance that Kylie recognized as the same ones she had seen the dragon fly over before she'd lost sight of it.
     "They went up there, to Bleak Falls Barrow," Camila said. "I saw one of the thieves point up to it and tell the others that was where they needed to go, now that they had the claw, but I don't know what he meant by that." 
     Kylie nodded. After promising to head up there, find the thieves, and get the claw back, she turned around and headed back to the inn they had passed by. Her eyes were getting heavy, and nothing sounded better at that moment than a good night's sleep.
     When she walked in, Kylie caught sight of Sven out of the corner of her eye but pretended not to notice the baleful look he gave her. Apparently, he'd heard about the letter incident, she thought.

"What was I thinking? I mean, he still lives with his mother,
his singing really isn't that great, and... is he wearing a dress?!?!"

     "Serves you right," Kylie muttered under her breath, refusing to meet his glare as she walked over to the bar where the innkeeper was and paid for a night's lodging.
     Shutting the door to the room she was shown to, Kylie went over to the bed and fell down onto it gratefully, not even bothering to take off her newly crafted armor.
      She'd been yanked away from her world and brought to one she doubted even Varik had heard of, where she'd come within a breath of having her head chopped off.  She had survived a dragon's attack, and fought her way through Imperials, giant spiders, and bandits. She improved her Sneaking abilities along the way, met a few new people, and even learned some things about Archery which, thanks to choosing not to lie for Sven and then some 'trading' with Faendal, she didn't have to pay for. She'd crafted some decent looking leather armor that didn't make her look like an Imperial soldier or one of those Stormcloak rebels, and had even offered to get back some kind of golden claw that had been stolen from the owner of the Riverwood general store. All on her first day.
     Turning onto her side, Kylie closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.
     "Welcome to Skyrim," she mumbled.
     Within a matter of minutes, Kylie had fallen into an exhausted sleep.
* * *
To Be Continued?
There're a lot of tips (not cheats... tips!) I can and would love to share. I had planned on doing a few others with this first chapter, like making buckets of gold without using the invisible Khajiit chest in Dawnstar exploit, but I didn't want to make it overly long, you know? It's meant to be a short, fun read... not one of my novels!

Honestly, I had a blast writing this, and I certainly wouldn't object to continuing with the story. And of course, including more tips for the game in the process! It's just something fun that's different than all the YouTube vids that are out there, you know?
So what do you think? Did you like it? Do you want more? Don't put any more time into it? Leave a comment and let me know!

Tips in Chapter One:
1) Using Ralof (as high as you have patience for) to up your Sneaking. I usually stop at 40, enough to get the 3x sneak dmg with bows, but 50 nets 15x dmg with Daggers, for you assassins ;)
2) Holding off on mining (for now). Believe me, there's a reason!!!
3) Using Faendal (up to 50) to up your Archery and not paying a single gold for it


Friday, August 26, 2016

Less of the Same

There's been a trend lately with the movie industry doing reboots. And every time I hear about another reboot, my initial reaction is always the same. Rolling the eyes, uttering a disgusted sigh, shaking my head, and then usually saying something like: "Seriously?"
I get it. A movie had a huge following years ago, so why not remake it? There're things available now (like CGI) that weren't around back in the 80's and early 90's. Fans of the old will see it to make a comparison between the two, and the new generations likely haven't seen the original so there's a new group of moviegoers who will watch the 'new and improved' version.
What makes me shake my head and utter those disgusted sighs is the fact that reboots take away what made the original movies good to begin with: they were ORIGINAL. And changing up a few things doesn't warrant calling it a 'new take on the original.'
Ghostbusters was a great movie in it's day. It's a classic. It had a great cast, the storyline was awesome... Then along comes the reboot - only this time with an all-female cast. Insert sigh of disgust. Not for the all-female cast, but because it was a REBOOT. Look, all of my books have strong female characters in leading roles (it's kind of my thing), so I'm the last person who would complain about that fact of the movie. No, it was the fact that it wasn't a new movie, it was the same old movie with a few slight changes.
That's one example. There are obviously others. Annie got rebooted. Carrie has been rebooted... 4? 5 times? I've lost count on that one. The Shining got rebooted. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - rebooted. I've heard rumors that The Lost Boys is getting rebooted with an all-female cast (are they gonna call it The Lost Girls?).
It is getting a reboot. I saw pics of Pennywise's costume, and if it weren't for the fact that it's a reboot, the costume alone is terrible. The whole idea behind the original was that Tim Curry's costume was meant to make him look bright and happy and fun for the kids. Do you seriously think the dark and evil looking costume in the reboot would have a kid laughing? Hell no! They'd run screaming for the hills!
So why all the disgust for reboots? Because I'm a writer, I suppose. There's no such thing as a 'reboot' or 'remake' in my line of work. That's called plagiarism in my field. And to be honest, that's what frustrates and irritates me when I hear about all of these movies getting reboots. There are literally millions upon millions of stories out there. They aren't all blockbusters, but then neither is every movie. Still, the fact remains that there is seriously no reason the movie industry should ever take away what makes a movie great and lessen it with a reboot when there are so many stories out there that could be made into movies.
Anyway, the whole pics of the new It costume kind of got under my skin and brought a whole circus (pun intended) of thoughts on the movie industry and their reboots, so I thought I'd blog about it. And for those who are wondering, of course I think my fantasy series or paranormal romance trilogy would make blockbuster movies (definitely the PNR trilogy)!
Come on, every author thinks that about their books! ;)

Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Reach For Your Stars

There's a well-known phrase which says nothing worth doing is ever easy. There's another that says no risk, no reward. And I'll even throw in one from the first book in my Paranormal Romance trilogy, The Exiled: When you doubt in yourself, you create the one barrier that is impossible to overcome. The only thing that can stop you from reaching your goals is yourself.
Throw those all together, and you have the basis for pretty much anything you want to accomplish. Maybe it's rising up in a company, for example. Or maybe it's taking a dream vacation. It could be something like getting a college degree.
The point is, we all have things that are important to us, things that we want to accomplish. Think about it for a minute. Not goals that someone else wants you to do, but things you want to do for yourself. Now look at those phrases again.
Whether it's getting that promotion at work, taking that dream vacation, getting that college degree, or some other personal goal, it's something which is important to you. It may seem like a lofty goal, but nothing worth doing is ever easy. It will take hard work, dedication, and not giving up on yourself. Working longer hours. Saving as much as you can for a period of time. Studying on the weekend rather than going out to the club.
Those goals can be daunting. Will working harder pay off, or will it go unnoticed? What if something comes up and everything that was saved needs to go for that instead? Will you forget everything you studied when the test is given? Perhaps... but no risk, no reward.
No matter what goals you set for yourself, no matter what dreams you want to work for, there are always two initial options. Think of it like buying a scratch ticket. My father always used to say "You can't lose if you don't play!" While that is true, you can't win if you don't play, either. So you can buy that scratch ticket with the understanding that you may win or you may lose. Or you can back down and choose not to take your chances.
Taking that second option is the 'safe' route. Not putting in those extra hours. Telling yourself you'll never be able to save enough for that vacation so why bother trying? Thinking that class is your worst subject and you'll probably fail the test anyways so you might as well go out and have fun during the weekend and not bother studying for it.
What happens though, is that afterward, in the back of your mind, you'll always wonder what might have happened. Could those extra hours have been noticed and helped you get that promotion instead of someone else? Could you have saved that money up and taken that dream vacation? Could you have aced that test if you had studied all weekend? They're questions that will never be answered because the chance - the risk - was never taken.
Think again on those goals you have for yourself. They're worth doing, worth striving for. They won't be easy to reach, but nothing worth doing ever is. They may seem impossible, but no risk... no reward. Don't let those unknowns stop you from trying.
And the next time you look in a mirror, think about the goals you want to accomplish. What you'll see isn't just your reflection. What you will see is the one person who can stop you from reaching those goals. When you doubt in yourself, you create the one barrier that is impossible to overcome.
No dreams are impossible to achieve. They're like your own stars up in the sky. The first step is easy: Just reach up.

Monday, May 2, 2016

Words, Pages, and Prices

Very recently there was a discussion posted on one of the Author groups I'm a member of. An author had posed a question, saying the book she was currently working on was finished, that it had clocked in at 160k words, and asked if she should split the book - making it 2 books instead of 1.
This group of authors is very supportive to each other. We freely ask for advice and opinions among each other, inquire about any successful promoting tools and tactics, share reviews that we've received... the list goes on. And there are always several of us who chime in with answers to those inquiries that are as varied as the genres each of us writes in, give our congrats on those reviews, etc.
Many suggested she split the book into 2, saying 160k was too long. Some said leave it. Some took the middle road and said depending on the genre, it could go either way (fantasy books tend to be longer, for example.)
I was one who suggested keeping it as one book, reason being that word count should never, NEVER dictate a story... ANY story. I went on to say that it doesn't matter if a story takes 50k words to tell or 200k, that the focus must remain on the story itself.
Now, the 'experts' may disagree. I use that term very loosely, because I think a lot of the time when those people are saying a story should remain around 70-80k, or that anything over 100k is 'too long'... they're focused on the wrong thing. They're focused on word count, on a statistic that tells them books in the range of X number of words sell more copies. But a good story isn't defined by word count. A good story is defined by the story itself.
The problem with letting word count define a story is if we aim for a certain length, we're already not giving that story our best. We're not giving readers our best. If it ends at 60k (after editing) and the target was aimed for 70k... 10,000 words of 'fluff' which do nothing to add to the story and can often take away from it would have to get added to hit that mark. If it ends at 80k (again, after editing) pieces of the story would have to get cut out in order to hit that mark - once again, taking away from the story.
A story is done when it's done. The story defines the word count, not the other way around. To do anything else is not giving either readers or the story what they deserve: the very best. That's my personal opinion from an author's point of view. Others will disagree, and that's perfectly fine. We are all entitled to our opinions on the subject, after all.
Another subject that was discussed was from a reader's view. Yes, I'm an author, but I'm just as much a reader. In order to continue to improve at my job, reading is a requirement, one which I love to do. I doubt there is a single author who doesn't love to read.
The issue was the number of pages in a book, which is basically word count, but readers don't count words, they count pages. Someone had mentioned that they don't read anything over 300 pages, which was just that person's personal preference when choosing what to read.
Here again, the focus is not on the story, but on its length. How many books have been written that are 350, 400, even 500 pages long? Limiting oneself to books of a certain length comes with the possibility that there is a book out there that could very well be a reader's all-time favorite book - but it's never realized because the book exceeds that page length, and thus that enjoyment is never discovered. One of my favorite books is It, by Stephen King, which my wife will most likely frown at me for because... well, clowns. She does not like clowns.
Word count for that particular book: 444,414. Number of pages: 1,138.
Granted, that's Stephen King, an established (very well established) writer, but the point remains that had I limited myself to page length, I never would have read It, let alone read the book about a dozen times more over the years. Again, this is just my personal opinion and others will disagree, but from a reader's viewpoint, the length of a book doesn't matter. It's the story within those pages that does.
Lastly, I'm going to hit a subject that, quite frankly, bothers and frustrates me. It has for some time, and I feel that it's time someone put themselves out in the open, even knowing that the flak and the bullets will likely start flying for talking about it. Regardless, I shall do so because it needs to be talked about: Pricing.
Before digital books came about, we only had paperbacks and hardcovers. Trade paperbacks could be picked up for anywhere from $4.99 to $7.99, hardcover books were pricier. That hasn't changed. When digital books came about and indie authors first came onto the field, opening up a plethora of books for readers to enjoy, it wasn't long before a pricing battle began, with the argument coming about that digital books shouldn't be priced the same as paperbacks because there were no printing costs involved. Fair enough, I can certainly agree with that, and I do agree with that.
The problem however, is that this thinking has gone far beyond that initial fair argument to the point that people want something for next to nothing. It's inflated to saying  that digital books are overpriced and either shouldn't cost more than $0.99 or they should be free. Why? Because they're digital? Indie authors put just as many hours, pour just as much blood, sweat, and tears into their books as any other author. The fact that those books are available digitally doesn't take any of that away.
I'm not saying digital editions should be priced the same as a paperback, because that printing cost is taken out. But saying that digital books shouldn't cost more than $0.99 or should be available for free is essentially saying that  all of the countless hours, the numerous headaches and frustrations, and all of the blood, sweat, and tears that we pour into our work is worthless. And to be perfectly blunt, it's saying we're worthless.
What bothers and frustrates me is that people will run to Starbucks to get their daily overpriced latte without batting an eye. They'll hand over the cost of theater tickets and pay the inflated prices of popcorn and snacks. They'll purchase tickets for concerts, ball games, waterparks... the list goes on. All of those things are bought and then consumed, watched, or done within a matter of minutes or a few hours, while reading a digital book can take days or sometimes weeks, since rarely do any of us have time to sit down and read a book from cover to cover. That's days/weeks of entertaining, of bringing readers to new worlds, introducing them to countless characters and firing their imaginations in endless ways. And here's the real blow: the pricing argument that digital books shouldn't cost more than $0.99, when you take a brutally honest look at it, is saying an indie author's hard work - those hundreds of hours, the headaches and frustrations, of pouring everything they can into their books... is worth less than a cup of coffee from Starbucks.
Those tickets get thrown in the trash. Those lattes and coffees don't care if they're enjoyed. But authors do care. We write our stories because we want to entertain others. We want to fire readers' imaginations. That's our job. We put in those long hours, we give our blood and sweat and tears for readers in order to be as good as we can be at our job without hesitation - because our readers deserve our very best. For us, our readers are worth everything that we go through in order to entertain them.
Everyone wants to be appreciated at their jobs, no matter what those jobs are. Sure, with any job the occasional mistake happens. And for the most part, every worker does better at their job when the work they do is appreciated. Usually that appreciation is shown with promotions, raises, even simple 'Nice Going!' paper awards.
Authors are no different. We make the occasional mistake, be it a typo or a missed punctuation. Personally, I'm an extreme perfectionist when it comes to my writing, to the point of it probably being considered obsessive because I want my work to be as close to perfect as possible. It's an impossible goal, as nothing is perfect, but I reach for it nonetheless - because my readers are worth striving for perfection. I'm not joking when I confess to uploading an update to one of my books about a year ago to fix a single typo I came across from one of the first books I wrote that Word's grammar checker hadn't caught - a single word which said truck instead of trunk. Yes, I actually uploaded an update that fixed a typo - a single letter changed in the entire 87k novel. If that's not the definition of obsessive perfectionism, I don't know what is.
We don't get promotions. Our job title begins as 'author' and no matter how many books we write, it remains 'author'. We don't get raises. If a book is priced at $3.99, it doesn't automatically go up with the 100th sale of that book, and unless we change it ourselves (which when we do, it's usually dropping the price, not raising it), it remains constant. The appreciation we get comes in the form of reviews that readers occasionally leave. Sometimes they're good, sometimes not. That's the nature of the job... we can't please everyone, and we don't expect to. But we look forward to those reviews nonetheless. I'm sure most authors will agree that they wish more readers posted honest, thoughtful reviews of their books. Sometimes the appreciation comes from emails that readers take the time to send us, and from the comments they leave on our Author pages. All of those things can turn our worse day around in a heartbeat.
Anyways, back to getting the flak attack and hail of bullets about the whole pricing thing. Look, I'm not saying digital books should be overpriced. $2.99-$4.99 per book is a fair price, perhaps a bit cheaper if it's less than novel length (50k words). Short stories that are like 10 pages long - yeah, those I agree should fall under that $0.99 price. Bundled packs are out there too, which put 2 or more books into a single digital set, with a lot of those basically at a 'Buy 2 Get One Free' price.
But that argument that digital books are 'overpriced' and should be $0.99 or free has made many authors put their hard work at that price point. Mostly because they feel they have to price it there in order to hope to have any chance whatsoever to get noticed. While the initial argument began as a fair observation about cheaper prices due to digital books not having printing costs, it's become a 'get something for nothing or next to nothing.' Fair price used to be $3.99-$4.99, then it dropped to $2.99, then $1.99. Now it's gotten to $0.99.
So here's the hard truth. For a book that's priced at $2.99 on Amazon, the author receives a bit over $2 (70% royalty). Anything priced less than that (even dropping a single penny to $2.98) and the royalty amount an author receives from a sale is cut in half, to 35%. So that whole 'digital books shouldn't cost more than $0.99' argument means that an author who's poured hundreds of hours of labor into a book that they set at that price gets about $0.35 per sale.
So what, right? Well, in a nutshell, it means that when an author prices a book at $0.99, they have to sell 7 copies for every 1 copy if they were to price it fairly at $2.99. And that's not factoring in all of the extra expenses that come with the job - like cover design, editors, and running ads to let people know that work is out there. The writing part is easy, compared to trying to promote ourselves and our work. When you look at any other job, I seriously doubt a single person would want to be told they have to do 7 times the work in order to make their hourly wage or salaried pay that they have now.
Authors give up far more than I think people realize, but we do it willingly because our readers mean that much to us. And yet, for all of our hard work, for all of our efforts to give nothing but our best to our readers, the argument that digital books are overpriced and shouldn't cost more than $0.99 coldly reminds us that despite doing everything we can to give readers their next favorite stories, we're less important than a cup of coffee from Starbucks.


Wednesday, April 13, 2016

The Dawn is Coming... Mistral Dawn!!

I love getting the opportunity to help out fellow authors. So when Mistral Dawn asked if anyone would like to help her get word out about her upcoming release, I jumped at the chance. I love this girl (in a purely plutonic way). She is always willing to help out other authors, and she's an awesome writer herself! So it is my great pleasure to help her plug her upcoming release. Take it away, Mistral!!
Hey Everyone!!! :-)

 Guess what? It's finally here!!  Rainbow Dreams is now available for preorder from the following merchants:



What's it about?  I'm glad you asked!  Here's the blurb:


Have you ever had a terrible secret you didn't want anyone to know? Petri does and it may get her killed. Life is hard on Upworld, especially for the residents of Under City, and it's even harder for those who don't fit in. Petri has alway been different and now those differences may cost her life. Her one hope is to leave the only home she's ever known while evading the mob that's calling for her blood. But Petri has never been outside of her sector of Under City, never mind off the planet. And the laws of Upworld forbid people like her from leaving. Will Petri overcome the odds and make good her escape? Maybe...with a little help from her friends.

Sound interesting?  Good!  And get a load of that cover!!!  It's courtesy of the FANTABULOUS Julie Nicholls!!  If you'd like to see more of her incredible work, check out her website here:


I also want to let you all know about an Amazon Giveaway I'm running for Captivated By The Winter King.  It's free to enter!  Rainbow Dreams won't be released until April 19th, so in the meantime you can get your sexy romance fix with some dreamy Fae! ;-)

Okay, okay, I know, enough stalling.  If you're as excited as I am about this story, I know you're all ready for a peek:

Rainbow Dreams Chapter One Excerpt


Lightning bolts of fire and ice shot up and down Petri's spine as she moved over the human man on the bed. Her short, slender body bowed with the sensations that washed over her. His lust was like a fountain of cold water on a hot day, and she was parched. It had been too long; she needed this. Desperately.

Looking down at him as she slid her body onto his straining cock, she smiled. This client had wanted to be blindfolded; he said he enjoyed the mystery. There was more mystery in Petri than most humans would know what to do with, so that was fine with her. With him blindfolded, she didn't need to be careful to keep her own eyes shut. This was going to be a good feed, and there was no way she could have kept her eyes from glowing.

The man moaned in pleasure. Being fed upon felt as good for humans as feeding did for Petri. None of her clients knew she sipped from their energy, their life force, when she fucked them. All they knew was that she was one hell of a talented dolly. A win-win for all involved.

This client was a regular; Petri had shown him many times how good it could be with her. Some of her regulars came to crave her, almost like the dream dust that was sold in the club below. They were guaranteed repeat business, and she always made sure to show them a good time. After all, that was her job.

The energy of the man's lust filled Petri as she glided up and down on top of him. She shivered. It was renewing, rejuvenating. She couldn't get enough. A few grains of dust remained on his upper lip as evidence of his earlier indulgence in some of the chemical delights that were available at Abracadabra.

It was clear her client was high long before Petri started feeding. Before she blindfolded him, she had noted the man's dilated pupils and the flush of pleasure on his face. She had no doubt the management of Abracadabra would go to great lengths to make sure he received the maximum enjoyment possible during his visit. There was a reason it was the hottest nightclub in this part of Under City.

The club specialized in hedonism in all its forms. Drugs of every description, games, gambling, and other, darker pleasures could be found within its walls. House dollies, little more than sex slaves, waited to fulfill the customers' every desire. Freelance dollies, like Petri, rented space to ply their trade as well. The house allowed it because the dollies offered the club's clientele more variety and were motivated to attract business. Once a patron had satisfied their lust, they often wandered downstairs in search of other entertainments.

Leaning down, Petri pressed her cat-like mouth to her client's lips in a sizzling kiss. Their tongues tangled as he responded, and she undulated her hips against his, faster and faster. The drugs he had consumed tainted his energy, giving Petri a pleasant buzz. She never took dust herself since it interfered with her ability to control her power, but she enjoyed the effect when one of her johns indulged. As their sex intensified, Petri drank deeper, swallowing down the man's whimpers and sighs of ecstasy as she swallowed his desire.

Lost in the haze of feeding for the first time in days, Petri didn't realize it at first when the man suddenly went still underneath her. His penis remained stiff and eager inside her, and she continued to ride it, draining his energy. It was only when the cold, clamminess of his skin penetrated the pleasurable trance she often sank into when feeding that she realized that she had gone too far. Her heart skipped a beat.

Swinging her leg over him, she clambered off his body and knelt beside him on the bed. She grabbed his shoulder, shaking him, but there was no response. He was as still and cold as death.

Petri's breath froze in her chest as she tried to suppress her rising panic. She slapped him, hard, across his face, trying to provoke a response. There was nothing. Leaning down, she put her ear against his chest, listening for something, anything. Any sign that a spark of life remained in the man. She wasn't sure, but she thought she might have heard a faint fluttering within.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and put her hands on his chest, fingers splayed. She had never done this before, but her instincts said it might work. The process of drawing energy from others had come automatically when she reached physical maturity. It was as natural as breathing to her. But reversing the flow of energy… That was something else altogether. She forced herself to focus; all she could do was try.

Reaching down into the well of energy within her, Petri tried to snag a wisp of it. It was like trying to catch fog. Gritting her teeth, she concentrated and managed to grab a small piece of the mist and tease it up, out of herself and back into the man. It flowed at a slow trickle, but it did flow. The man took a deep breath and Petri slumped in relief.

Before she could stop him, or even turn away, the man reached up and snatched the blindfold from his face. When he saw her glowing eyes, he shrieked, "Mgeni!"

Petri swore. She knew she didn't have much time. Sitting up, she sucker-punched her client hard in his stomach. The man folded over, clutching his gut, just like she knew he would. As her former client coughed and wheezed, Petri scrambled into her tight, red mini-dress and stiletto pumps and clambered out the window. She couldn't risk trying to make it through the crowded club below; she needed to be gone before the man recovered enough to sound the alarm.

Whoo! I guess she's in some trouble!  Want to find out what happens next?  Reserve your copy today so you'll get it without delay on the 19th! ;-)  Thank you all for stopping by today and for your interest in my first foray into the sci-fi genre!!  Have an awesome rest of the week!


Friday, April 8, 2016

The BORGman Collective

This won't be a long blog, so I hope you'll take the few minutes to read it. I try to do what I can to help support other authors, causes, charities, local area fundraisers... just to name a few. On April 30, 2016, I'll be taking part in Walk MS: Marshfield. And I would like to ask for your support.
Having been diagnosed with MS myself late last year, this is something that I am doing - not only because it's a for a good cause, but because I know personally how it has affected both myself and those closest to me. There is no cure for MS. Much of the disease is not even understood because of how randomly it effects those of us who have it. How random? Anywhere from a few months to ten years or more between 'fits' as we call them.
It's a waiting game, more or less. You wake up every morning and go about your day as you always do, but in the back of your mind, there's the thought: Is today the day another fit is going to strike?
I found out I had MS rather brutally. What started with tingling in my fingers one day, which I initially assumed had been because I had simply slept weird, spread to my palms within a day. A few days later, my left leg went dead. I literally had to drag it around. Walking was nearly impossible. It lasted for almost a month before the fit ended and I could walk normally again. For now.
You see, there are several different forms of MS that have been discovered. Mine happens to be Progressive Relapsing MS. The simple explanation for PRMS is that it gets progressively worse with each recurring fit. Which means the next time it hits, it will likely be as bad or worse than the last fit. Each fit leaves a permanent scar on the brain, kind of like a sick, demented 'I was here' tag. The MRI that I had done revealed that it had not been the first fit for me - it had been the seventh. 
So I'm taking part in Walk MS: Marshfield while I can, because the next time it hits, I may not get the use of my leg back, or worse. No one - not even my specialist, who has studied and devoted the last twenty years of his life to studying the disease and trying to understand it - knows what will happen.
MS is like lightning during a thunderstorm. Others like me who have MS know the lightning will strike, but none of us know when, or what will be affected. That's what makes it such a difficult disease, not only for us but for our loved ones. 
My wife, Nyki, has formed a team of us who will be walking on April 30, 2016 in Marshfield, WI. As I'm a Star Trek geek, I came up with our team name, The BORGman Collective (I thought it was rather clever!)
We would like to raise funds for the National MS Society, which is what this walk is for. Any donation you make goes directly to them.
From left to right:
DeAnna, Michael, Jhessica, Scott, and Nyki Borgman
Here is the link, which will take you to the team page:
I hope you will make a donation, no matter what amount, and help spread the word. Bloggers: please reblog. Tweeters: please blast the Twitterverse. Facebookers: please click that share button.
As an author, my job is to bring out the emotions of my readers. I hope I have succeeded in that endeavor with this blog. Thank you everyone.

All My Best,

Scott A. Borgman


Sunday, February 28, 2016

What Once was Gold

I don't blog often. When I do, it's because I have something important to say. What I want to talk about today is something that, quite frankly, has been under my skin for a few months now, and I'm not going to bite my fingers any longer. It needs to be said. I know others have already talked about it themselves, because they feel the same way I do about the subject: Titles.
These used to be gold. If an author had an 'Award Winning' or 'Best Selling' title, it meant something special. Those were coveted titles, things that really made an author stand out. They were titles that every author dreamed of having, but not everyone succeeded in obtaining.
Now those titles have dulled. Why? Because authors (some, not all) have lessened them. What once was gold has become copper. It used to be a milestone to be able to add such titles to a bio. They were an immense achievement, something worthy of recognition. They've gone from gemstones to colored glass.
How did such things become commonplace? Simple. Instead of earning those titles, authors created their own contests for best looking covers, best fantasy, romance, and sci-fi books, etc. Such contests were nothing more than he/she-who-has-the-most-friends-wins contests. And when they 'won', they slapped that Award Winning title to their name.

They put their books up for free, and the instant that book hit #1 in the free store (not too difficult of a thing to do, since everyone loves getting something for free) they added that Best Selling title to their name.

Or they called themselves a business and after selling a single book they put the Best Selling title to their names. Why not, right? After all, they're obviously the best selling author - in their business of one. Cue the Darth Vader voice: "The sarcasm is strong with this one."
In doing so, such authors have lessened the worth of those coveted titles. It's a shady loophole cloaked in deceit that they willingly abuse, just so they can increase their book sales and put themselves on a pedestal - one that they build themselves.
In short, it's a piss-poor tactic that quite honestly, I find repulsive. It's a dishonest ploy that readers are the unknowing victims of, because those titles do draw attention. Readers are our customers, and whether they like our work or not, whether they leave us glowing reviews or not, they are to be met with nothing less than the utmost respect and held in the highest regards - not conned by using titles that were never truly earned. Because what happens afterwards is that those titles are no longer glorified as something great or worthy of seeking out like they were before.
Not every author does this. There are those out there who want such titles but refuse to stoop to those levels just to obtain them. Personally, I am among that (sadly, it seems an ever-shrinking) group. Believe me, I would love nothing more than to add those titles to my own bio. Those are milestones that I am striving to reach, not only for myself but as something that my family can be proud of me for achieving. But those are titles that I must earn.
That's what upsets me about the whole thing. I see those titles as they were always meant to be - achievements that are sought after by many, but obtained by few. They're titles that are earned through contests that are recognized by thousands, like the Reader's Favorite Award Contest that is held every year. Sure, there's an entry fee. Official contests always have one, because the awards one can receive can't be made in a few minutes on the computer or purchased in a store; they can only be obtained through the contest itself.
Cover image used with permission from CK Dawn
CK Dawn (www.ckdawn.com) is an author who, while I don't know personally, I am acquainted with through an author group we are both members of. I'm mentioning her and plugging her website because Cloak of Shadows won such an award.

The 'Award Winning' title she now carries wasn't obtained through some most-friends-wins popularity contest just so she could slap that title onto her name... CK earned it. And though I've never met her, I'm damn proud of her for that achievement. She's one of the authors who didn't give herself a copper title - she earned the golden one.
Flashy covers and well-written blurbs aside, those awards and titles are coveted by authors because they're golden. Readers are drawn to them because they've been earned. Readers don't want or deserve cubic zirconia. They want and deserve gold. The award says it all: CK Dawn is a golden author.
And honestly, it goes beyond just these titles. When I was growing up, like many kids, I played sports. Teams worked hard and did their best, because they all wanted that first place trophy. There was no 'participation' trophies to be handed out. Either you won or you lost. The winning team got the trophy. The losing teams went home with nothing. Was it harsh and cruel that those losing teams did their best and didn't get anything for their efforts? No. What it did was instill the desire to work harder, practice more, reach higher... to strive for improvement in order to obtain that which was so highly sought after.
But then what happened is those kids who never earned a trophy grew up and had kids of their own. Some of them remembered never winning any kind of trophy and decided that wasn't fair. So they raised a fuss because they didn't want their kids to go through the same thing. When enough of them made enough noise, along came 'participation' trophies.

I bet those parents feel real good about themselves now that it doesn't matter if their kid is good or not, they'll get something regardless. Congratulations, you've lessened the worth of such achievements. It no longer matters how well a kid plays. They don't have to try as hard, practice as much, or stretch any further than they feel like stretching, because they know that they're going to get a trophy regardless now. What once was gold has become copper.
Some time ago, I submitted one of my books, Province of a Thief, to Reader's Favorite for a review. It was given the Reader's Favorite 5-Star Review award. When I received it, I was ecstatic - because that is the only way one can obtain the silver seal that now adorns that book's cover. And yet, my bio does not contain the Award Winning title. That award was an achievement, and I'm proud of that achievement... but that award is not to the height that I feel honestly warrants being able to add that coveted Award Winning title to my name.
Am I losing out on book sales because I don't have any such title attached to my bio? Perhaps. But some things are more important than book sales. Like honesty. Integrity. Respect. You can't buy those things, no matter how much money you have or what shady tactics you use in order to give yourself those titles. When 'Award Winning' and 'Best Selling' adorn my bio and my books, they will be there because I covet those titles for what they were always meant to represent.

What others choose to lessen and obtain as copper, I will earn and achieve as gold.