Insider 11-16-2011

Every time one of our books comes out, I inevitably find myself surprised it’s time already and yet simultaneously astonished at how long ago it seems since we were working on it. That’s what happens when you work in a whirlwind field, I suppose, and in truth we are always well into the next book, so there are reasons beyond my own eccentric brain. (Or at least that’s what I’m always telling myself . . .)

I am, as usual, knee-deep in upcoming projects now, and my brain is full of current issues. While I work those out, here’s another sampling of sentences showing some of my favorite bloopers from the text I edit (or write!). Just for fun I used bits of HORDES: Domination to show a few of the examples as they would appear “in the wild.” Enjoy!

Kallus savored the rush of wind as the warbeast struck, its deadly tail bard guided by his will.
Now just try to rid yourself of the image of a lute-playing Shakespeare riding a Legion warbeast’s tail. Some images are harder to expunge than others! Too bad Kallus couldn’t actually pull this on the skorne later on . . .

He had to clamp down tight to keep his remaining wabeasts in position as the enemy wawrcaster unleashed the full fury of her army upon them.
Facing off against warrocks, warcloaks, and warclocks are the wild and woolly wawrcasters! It’s a good thing they are intimidating, too, because from the sound of things their beasts could use some toughening up. I don’t know about you, but I hate it when the enemy wabeasts all start crying at the same time. So annoying! But I still prefer those over the earbeasts I occasionally find wandering about. Those things are downright creepy.

After a raid went wrong and resulted in unfortunate dearths on both sides, the Tornwood kriels declared Jarl a full outlaw.
I guess all the grabbing for control of this particular area is taking quite a troll on the land! Ahem. Sorry—my pun shield has been buggy lately. While you have to admit that dearth in the midst of war is indeed rather unfortunate (no matter how common), it’s still no reason to get all mopey. Especially if you’re a trollkin with awesome guns.

Even the Rooves of Orboros had trouble finding concealment within the thin copses of tress.
Despite the best efforts of such champions as Baldur and Krueger, time does have a way of clearing the pate of its tresses. What’s a Roove to do?

He pays them no mind, calmly injecting Arkadius’ unique blend of painkilling stimulants into enraged war hogs in the midst of the deadly fray or applying needle and thread to sow up gaping wounds.
I can’t help but imagine a stern mama farrow tsk-tsking and lecturing the war hogs on safety even as she employs her (likely questionable) seamstress skills on them. “You see what charging by yourself will get you? I’ve told you a million times, but do you listen? Noooo. One of these days I won’t be here to fix you up, and then where will you be? Hold still! Oh, don’t be such a piglet. Honestly!”