A Writer's Moment

Hi everyone, it's Stefan,
this morning while working on "The Second Searcher," I had one of those moments a writer always dreams of. It was the moment when a new character knocked on my imaginary door wanting to be let in. I felt his presence when I saw him in my minds eye. He was powerful and protective and strong. In short, he was just so cool I can't wait to write more about him. I think he'll start out as a side character but he might just become one of the main ones.
I am also including 'Day One' and part of 'Day Two' - the first two sections of "The Second Searcher," in here if you want to read some and get excited about the prequel to "The Three Feathers." Please excuse and grammar or spelling mistakes. I have not edited much yet.

Day 1

For a long time there was darkness. Thoughts of comfort and warmth enveloped her, telling her of things she did not yet understand. The one who thought to her was never absent for long from her mind. And after a while she reached out as well, first brushing against the other’s mind with hers, then staying longer until there was a bond between them. There, in the mind of her mother, she saw images of a world beyond the darkness. It was a world bright and green and vast. Slowly she became aware of voices outside. They were softly spoken, far and close but never distant. One in particular spoke to her always. There was excitement in this one. Laughter. Then a melody, sung to her quietly at times and loud at others. And when her mind reached out to the one who spoke and sang to her, it embraced hers within it instantly.

Then suddenly there was pressure on her body. The voices outside became louder, more urgent. Her heart rate increased until her mother’s thoughts reminded her, assured her silently that all was well. The light came. Flickering at first, breaking through the dark and creating patterns inside her eyelids. She welcomed the cool air and took her first breath willingly, inhaling deeply the scent of it. When she opened her eyes, she could not focus on anything at first. But for a moment she saw the darkened shape of her mother’s head against the window and she thought it the most beautiful thing there was. Then the brightness of it all made her close her eyes again.

Her mother’s nose nudged her, began to lick her face until it was clean. Experienced hands began to rub down her body. The sun that came through a gap in the wood planks of the stall illuminated them as they worked, as they dried her fur with straw and removed the water bag. She recognized two of the hands as belonging to the one who had sung and spoken to her. She felt her joy as they went very methodically up and down her spine and over her head cleaning it from any remaining residue of her birth.

When she stood up, the girl wanted to help her but the old man gently held her back so that she could get on her feet by herself. She had to sit back down several times before she could stand. And when she stood she swayed back and forth, adjusting her hooves on the floor trying to hold her balance. After a while she took an uncertain step. Then another and yet another after that. Her ivory coat began to dry and her mouth found her mother’s belly and she stilled her hunger. And throughout it all she heard her mother say one word in her thoughts over and over again. She did not know what it meant and she would not hear it again until much later, until almost a full year had passed. But at that moment she heard it and she knew it was her name. And her name was Wind.

Day 2

Leannah could not contain herself. She awoke when all was still quiet and the only sounds she could hear were the animals in the stalls below. When she peered through the thick drapes of her attic room window she saw that the streets were deserted. Only the baker’s son, she thought, would be out that early. In her mind she saw him running down the street, late as usual, barely making the corners without sliding on the sandy surface of the streets; his thick hair unkempt and sticking up in all directions; his long, dark brown coat wrapped around him despite the warmth of the air.

She opened the curtain just enough to let the light stream into her attic room. Dust particles danced in the beam as it illuminated the plank floor and part of the narrow wood framed bed to her right. The straw filled mattress on top was wrapped in white linens. Several handmade stuffed animals were perched to one side of it. Next to the bed and on the floor sat a small box also made of wood that served as table and dresser. A chair on the other side of the bed held a few pieces of neatly folded clothes. There was a second bed on the other side of the room. That one was empty and perfectly made, a quilt tucked into its sides and several stuffed animals perched on top. The wall with the window in it displayed several gray, thin, square stone plates with detailed chalk drawings on them. Most of them showed a white horse either running through meadows and woods or standing next to a girl who held a resemblance to Leannah herself. They were obviously self portraits but done in such astonishing detail that for any outside observer must have seemed to have been drawn by another person. One of the drawings hung near the second bed. It showed Leannah on a horse and another girl, slightly older, holding the reigns.

Leannah's talent of drawing anything from what she saw in her mind's eye was not something she was aware of. For her it was normal. She saw something and drew it without spending much thought on it at all. But this morning none of this mattered. This morning, after her chores were done, she would go and see her foal again. She had known for a few months now that it would be her foal, the one she would bond with and be with for the rest of their lives according to the custom of her people. She had felt the slightest brush of the foal's mind on hers when it was still in the womb. But Leannah was not yet able to hold on to it for longer periods of time. She was too young and her training not advanced enough. Most of it would happen within the next year when she and the foal would both attempt to reach a deeper bond until what one would think the other would know; what one would see would be visible to the other also.

When she changed from her night gown into her day clothes, her glance fell onto the empty bed for a moment. The memory of her sister was still overshadowed by her grief over her death three years ago. It took a whole year for Leannah to be able to sleep in their room afterwards. Too fresh the memory of her, too deep the pain over her loss. And suddenly, while she stood there tying the shoe laces of her boots, the memory of that day pushed itself into her mind and she could do nothing but witness it again.

It was the week before Bellerose's horse was to begin her solo pilgrimage up the Path Of No Return, the narrow, spiraling walkway along the steep, vast walls of Hollow's Gate all the way past the Gate of Time and far up to the Plateau of Wills to make the jump into the unknown; into either life or death. Bellerose had told Leannah the night before that she had seen a raven on one of the totem poles at the borders of their city. It just sat there and when Bellerose approached it, she saw that one of its eyes was missing. Then it had flown away from the city and toward the plains. It was not only forbidden to cross the borders of the city without one of the masters, it was also dangerous. The city lay under the protection of a permanent light shield that the Dark - the ones that came out during the time of the seven nights - could not penetrate. Beyond the shield and during the week of darkness that always followed the week of light in Hollow's Gate, the Dark reigned and whoever was still out there when the sun set in the eastern sky, fell prey to their hunger for blood. There was a reason the week of darkness was called The Time of the Dark.

Leannah had told Bellerose to stay away from the borders but she could see in her sister's eyes that the temptation had become too big. During the weeks before the pilgrimage the horses and their bond partners were always the most vulnerable. They needed to shield themselves from any influence from the outside and concentrate solely on the task that lay ahead: for the horses to prepare for the jump into the abyss and with that leave their limitations far behind and learn to fly. For the girls, this was the time when they were about to cross the threshold of childhood and become not only a woman but join the ranks of Protector of the Realm. Whoever passed the trials during their horse's pilgrimage was automatically considered to enter the rigorous training to become one of The Circle of The Nine. This was considered the highest honor but also the highest responsibility of leading their people in peace, protecting them and guarding them against outside forces.

The day after Bellerose had told Leannah about the raven, she went to Master Torin's house. He was one of the Elders in charge of her own training, in charge of determining when she was ready to begin her own bonding to a foal and thereby enter the three-year curriculum. She never went to his house before and had only known him from her lessons at school. He was a very kind man and she knew he would not rebuke her for coming. But her respect for him never allowed her to even think that she would go to his house. It took her a good part of the day to muster the courage to do so. During that time she made several attempts to talk to her mother who was pre-occupied with her little brother. Eventually her concern for Bellerose won over her fear and she decided to go.

When she stood before Master Torin in his study, surrounded by books bound in worn leather with fading letters in ancient languages, she forgot for a moment why she was there to begin with. She suddenly felt small amongst the accumulated knowledge of her people. Master Torin stood, hunched over a large table thickly layered with written pages, drawings and notes. One of the drawings showed a schematic of five structures with a large opening in their center.

The boy who had let her into the room had disappeared quietly. She knew him to be Master Torin's grandchild. He must have been seven or eight years of age and two years younger than herself at that time. The old man looked up from his studies.

"Leannah, what a pleasant surprise. What has brought you here?"  For a moment she couldn't remember why it was she had gone to him in the first place.

"Do you know everything that is written here?" She asked, mostly because it was the first thing that came to mind. 

"Hardly," he answered with a smile. "And the more I study those, the more I reckon how very little I know."

Leannah suddenly felt silly to have come here. It was just a raven and nothing more. There was no cause for concern and therefore no reason for her to be here.

"I'm sorry... to have interrupted you, Master Torin. I... I forgot. I forgot the reason... I shouldn't have come. I apologize." She turned abruptly and walked toward the door.

"Leannah." She heard his voice behind her and stopped. "Why don't you sit and we'll talk for a few minutes. Now that I have you here, why not use this time to get to know each other a little more."

She turned and looked at him. Her conflict must have shown plainly in her face for he smiled slightly while walking to one of the two chairs in front of the hearth where he sat down. From a small table he took a pouch with pipe tobacco and began to stuff a craftily carved wooden pipe.

"Or you can just tell me what it is that bothers you and let me decide whether or not you are right in thinking it silly. If it is, the both of us will just forget about it. If it isn't, well then I'm going to be very glad you have told me.

He lit his pipe, puffed out several times until he relaxed into his chair.

"What do you think?" Pipe in hand he pointed to the chair across from him. His smile encouraged her more than she wanted to admit. Eventually she walked over and sat down, her back straight up her hands folded on her lab. She looked at him for a few moments, looked at the short, mostly white, scruffy beard and equally scruffy hair. His eyes of slate gray watched hers calmly, waiting patiently for her to speak. The fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth extending toward her bare feet.

"Bellerose saw a raven yesterday. On the outskirts of the city. He was one-eyed."

Her words hung in the air like thick smoke. It seemed as if all color left Master Torin's face at once. His eyes did not leave hers. Gone was the friendly old man. Gone the wise Elder.

"Asher!" He spoke loudly into the room and then more quietly to her: "Are you sure of this?"

The door opened and the boy came back. "Get Peregrine."

"Yes, Grandfather." Asher briefly looked at Leannah as if astounded by the command, then he quickly left the room. She could hear his hasty footsteps outside.

"Are you sure of this?" Master Torin asked again.

"Yes. Yes, I'm afraid I'm sure. What does this mean?"

Master Torin got up and crossed to the door. He took a hooded cloak from one of the hooks.

"Where is your sister now?"

Leannah just looked at him. She could see the foreboding in his eyes. Tears welled up in her.

"Leannah, do you know where your sister is now?"

"No. I don't. I have not seen her since this morning." She began to cry.

"Go home at once. I will send someone."

All she could do was nod. "Come," he told her.

She got up from the chair and walked toward the door. Before Master Torin opened it, he knelt down before her. His callused hand removed a string of hair from her face. His eyes told him more than she wanted to know. Then he got up and left the room.

She followed him to the outside. It was as if all strength had left her legs. Asher stood there, Peregrine behind him. The wings of the white Pegasus were stretched out reaching at least twelve feet on either side of the creature. Having grown up amongst the Pegasus and having been around them all her life, Leannah still could not help but be astounded by the creatures' magnificence and for a brief moment her concern for Bellerose was washed away and exchanged for a deep sense of comfort.

Master Torin's words brought her back. "Go now," he told her. Then, with a fluidity completely belying his age, he jumped onto Peregrine who pushed forward, her front hooves already in the air. They gained speed fast and after a few seconds, the Pegasus lifted up, her wings pushing them upward and toward the sky.

Leannah remembered very little of what had happened afterwards. Only one scene stood out from the blurry images and raw memories of the day when her sister disappeared. All she remembers was that she suddenly had found herself at home sitting in the kitchen with her mother there and her father trying to comfort her. Master Torin was in the room and several others and all she could think of was why she couldn't have told him earlier. She could not fight the thought that she might have been able to save Bellerose if she would have gone to Master Torin in the morning. She felt that her sister's death lay on her own shoulders and as much as everyone told her that she could not possibly have known, she did not believe them. She was certain she never would.

Another Very Nice Review

"An excellent read. In just 200 pages, the author weaves a fascinating (and unpredictable) fable filled with richly textured characters, breathtaking landscapes and everything you'd expect in a solid action-adventure/fantasy-type story. But the book also has a lot more depth than your typical Dungeons-n-Dragons tale. The cast of characters is truly unique, as are their relationships with each other. And you KNOW there's gonna be a sequel because the backdrop of the story is just so rich it's begging to be fleshed out and explored some more. If you dig the work of C.S.Lewis, George Lucas or J.R.R. Tolkien, you'll dig this. Pick this one up." [-Ric]

Another Wonderful Review, This Time In German

Celebration Of The Arts

Come out for a reading of excerpts from The Three Feathers at Hasbrouck Park, New Paltz, NY. The reading will begin at 11AM. Be prepared to be transported into the world of Joshua Aylong and his companions on their quest to find the three feathers.

Joshua Made the Newspaper

Below is an interview with Lori Childers, owner of BlueStone Press - a local newspaper with global reach.

Lori: Stefan, congratulations on your book. From what you have told me so far it sounds very intriguing. I have to ask you… its main character is a rooster. Can you tell us a little bit about the story?

Stefan: Thanks, Lori. The story is about Joshua Aylong, a rooster, who lives a comfortable life in his pen doing what rooster do, protecting the hens, settling quarrels, and calling out each new day. One night while all the other chickens are asleep in the coop he realizes that there must be more to life than what’s in front of him each day. Something is missing and one day Joshua musters all his courage, pushes away his fear and doubt, flies up onto the highest perch inside the pen and, to the amazement of the other chickens, spreads his wings and flies out and into freedom. Little did he know that what he was about to encounter would change his life forever.

 Lori: Would you tell us why you chose a rooster as your main character. Why not any other animal or person?

Stefan: This might sound strange but I didn’t choose him to be the main character. I didn’t wake up one morning thinking that I had to finally write that story about a rooster I have been contemplating for so long. The story, and Joshua, came about in a most unlikely setting: a sand box.

Lori: A sandbox?

Please continue reading at http://www.bluestonepress.net/stories/Stefan-Bolzs-The-Three-Feathers,27

A Very Nice Recommendation by a 4th Grade Teacher

Last spring, I had the opportunity to read aloud Stefan Bolz’s book The Three Feathers prior to its official publication, thanks to the suggestion of one of my students.  Although it is not the type of book and genre that I typically choose for my own personal reading, I make it a point to read a variety of text types aloud in class, and we hadn't yet read and discussed a fable.  Throughout the reading of the story, I found it to be very well-written and engaging, and so did my class of fourth graders.  We all enjoyed getting to know the characters and reading about the friendship that develops between them, as well as making predictions about what the characters were going to encounter and how they were going to get out of dangerous and difficult situations. 

 In a class of students with mixed reading abilities, I found that all were able to enjoy hearing the story at their own level of understanding.  Some students were able to interpret and discuss the book’s message and theme, and others just enjoyed the humorous and suspenseful moments that occur throughout the text.  As an adult reader, I found that the book reminded me a lot of The Lord of the Rings stories, and I would whole-heartedly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys that series. 

Sincerely,

Maggie Kievit

"The Fourth Sage" - Prologue

Hi everyone, it's Aries. I have very little time. I'm hiding out in one of the secondary air ducts of my building. I'm being pursued by drones that have been ordered to eliminate an 'imminent threat to corporate security'. In short, it's me they are after. But I do have time to document everything so that none of this will ever happen again. I am uploading the first couple of entries. It is written by a dear friend of mine who has agreed to take what I have scribbled, from drawings and notes, decipher it and  convert it into a file most of you will hopefully be able to read on your computer. Stay tuned for updates. And watch your dreams. Always watch your dreams. My apologies but I need to go. They are coming.

* * *
Aries closes the book, holds it in her hands for a while longer. She feels the worn leather cover under her fingers, traces the remnants of the now undecipherable title. The outline of three feathers in its center is almost completely gone, so are the two eyes of the Lioness above it. Only slight indentations are left. But when Aries closes her eyes she can still see them. Sometimes she thinks she can almost feel her presence through the pages. But the reason for that might be a logical one: She had read the book close to a dozen times. Not that she is allowed to do that. If she were to be caught with it, there would be rather serious repercussions for her. The L.O.C.—the ‘Law of the Corporation’—demands house arrest and additional work hours for first-time offenders. But she isn't a first-time offender. She isn't even a second-time offender. For her it would be the third time. She would be in prison for up to a month.

For this kind of crime children under 16 years of age are punished more drastically than adults. Aries could never figure out the logic behind this but she assumed it was because children were still thought to be more open to ideas that were out of the ordinary and didn't fit into the ‘educational schedule’ of the Corporation. And to think that this book was considered part of the history of her people and was taught in what had been called ‘schools’ for the first 800 years after her civilization arose from the ashes when the beacon was activated on the other side of a worm hole, far across the space time continuum.

Her wrist watch begins to flash and vibrate slightly. 90 seconds. A touch on the screen of the watch changes the walls of her room from an image of a forest to a regular room with a large window showing the skyline of what looks like the high rises of a city in the distance.

83 seconds. In truth there are no windows in her room. She crouches down to the ground, moves her futon over what, right now, still looks like the forest floor. In one of the corners she lifts up a thin plate that covers a larger, rectangular opening. She crawls inside. She had wondered in the past, like she does now, how long she would still fit in there. She is slim for a fifteen-year-old but knows that one day the ducts will not allow her to roam the building any longer. 60 seconds. The high resolution display of her watch begins to pulsate in one second increments. About eight feet into the air duct she turns on her back looking up. The secondary air duct, perpendicular to this one, disappears into its self reflecting mirror image far up in the building.

Two hundred and twenty two stories high. Nearly sixty thousand souls. Aries lives in the first tier, the inner core of the cylindrically shaped building. Too warm in the summer and freezing cold in the winter. The sixth tier has natural light coming through small openings in the outer shell. No normal person can afford it. Her parents couldn’t. They lived in the fifth tier for five years. Aries often feels that natural light will always be out of reach for her. When her parents died two years ago—four days before her 12^th birthday—she became a ‘Ward of the State’. Of course this is an ancient expression long since abandoned as antiquated. There are no more states. For over 200 years now, this city, this country and the world she lives in, has been owned, managed, and run, by corporations.

36 seconds. She pries open a panel in the secondary air duct. Behind it sits the Raytheon, a digital conductor generating the power to sterilize the air duct every so often. It kills bacteria and any viruses that are in the air supply in four seconds. As a side effect it kills any life form that is still in the duct system when the random generator activates the conductor. It has been rumored that the primary function of the air duct sterilizers is to prevent the inhabitants of the 2900 foot high building from escaping to the outside world. But those are rumors and as such open to interpretation.

28 seconds. She pushes the book behind the conductor, closes the panel. After she had lived in tier one for nine months she had accomplished two things: first, she hacked into the main frame computer of her complex and, from the room cameras that records everyone’s life 24/7 (for security purposes, of course) she had found a way to create a loop each day for exactly one hour. For one hour per day she does not have to be in her room or in any of the parts of the building that are under constant surveillance. She can roam the air ducts. Secondly, she figured out how to calculate the intervals between the cleanings of the ducts and manage to be a few minutes ahead of it. Of course there is no guarantee. Her calculations are 99.7% accurate. The other 0.3% is a risk she is willing to take. In her estimation, there are six hours and 32 minutes to the next ‘cleaning’. But the video loop will hold only for 18 more seconds. She turns on her stomach slides backwards pushing off with her hands. The green screen of her watch pulsates in the semi darkness of the duct. Her feet reach the opening. Seven seconds. Her knees come out. She lifts up her stomach to not get caught on her belt lock.

Three seconds. Her head is out. She closes the panel, pushes the futon back into the corner and slumps down on it. Zero seconds. Her wrist watch goes dark. She is ‘live’. She grabs her pad. There is still homework to do. “The Moral Code” being one of the subjects. Even though she calls it “The Immoral Code” as it follows from the basic premise that there cannot be privacy (again for security purposes) and there cannot be choice when it comes to education, food, clothing, and social contacts. Those are things from the past, a past that approaches its 200^th year anniversary. That was the time when ‘freedom for all’ had lost its final battle with ‘power to a few’.

She had found ‘The Three Feathers’ in one of the black markets that began to establish themselves after the book ban about 175 years ago. In order to get it she needed to trade two AI/RSC-13 chips. They weren’t just any chips. They were Artificial Intelligence/Retina Scanner chips. Built into a small case of, let’s say, a wrist watch, you could reach places in the building normal people would never be able to go to. With a device that has the AI/RSC-13 chip in it, you could even reach the outer most tier. To be caught with the chips would mean death penalty. But she never actually was in possession of them. They were hidden away in one of the air ducts and she just provided the location to the book dealer in exchange for it.

Since she had read the book for the first time, Aries had felt something that she had never allowed herself to feel in the past. Since her parents’ death, she was on manage mode. ‘Do not show any weakness whatsoever’. The AI computer analyses each frame of video surveillance and decides what steps need to be taken. Weakness will not be tolerated. Especially in kids. Strength and pride are two of the pillars of the C.E.S., short for Corporate Education System. She gives them what they want. She never, ever, ever shows them her weakness. For 23 hours a day she is strong for them. But for one hour per day she allows herself to feel. And sometimes—mostly after reading—she cries. She cries for her mother and her father and she cries for her freedom and she cries for all the other children with her that are Wards of the State and that landed on the outskirts of a society that had gone too far in the wrong direction. She knows something needs to change. She can feel it in every fiber of her being.

How can the human spirit be captured? How can it be diminished almost to extinction? How can it be made so small and almost insignificant that the thought of fighting for it is nothing but an idea and easily dismissed as foolish? She had asked herself these questions many times over. She knows the answer. She knows that whoever, whatever stands behind the Corporations has perfected it and has made it their goal, pursuing it with any means necessary: To break the human spirit. To hold it prisoner. And eventually to extinguish it completely. And suddenly she knows she needs to do something about it.

Short synopsis

Hi everyone, it's Stefan,
first of all, I know for a fact that Joshua and his friends are preparing several great new entries in the blog. Wind will speak about her adventure, the prelude to Joshua's story, which happened 1000 years prior to the arrival of our heroes in Hollow's Gate. It will shed light on Wind's story and how she learned to let go of her limitations and learned to fly. Pegasus foals go through years of rigorous training before they can make the long pilgrimage up the dreaded and feared circular Path Of No Return, along the walls of Hollow's Gate, passing through the gate of time, to strengthen their resolve to eventually let go of their limitations and learn how to fly. This will be either book two or three, depending on which one is done first. Aries, our heroine from the sequel of Joshua's journey, which is set 1000 years after Joshua's adventure, will have some insights into what will be happening in her story. The entries will appear in the next couple of weeks.

On another note, it has been very busy here at "The Three Feathers" headquarters. There are many book stores to visit, book signings to set up, author's days to plan. No rest for scribes, right? I have been working on a letter to Barnes & Noble to see if Joshua's journey can be available in their stores. Would be awesome, don't you think? Here is what I came up with for a synopsis of the story, as part of the letter to them:

The hero of this magnificent story is Joshua Aylong, a rooster. Joshua lives a relatively comfortable life amongst the hens and chicks of his flock, protecting them from predators, settling their quarrels and calling out each new day at precisely 4:45 AM – until one night when he has a dream about three feathers somewhere deep inside a mountain. The dream stirs something inside him; something he can neither explain nor even fully grasp. He just knows that despite his fear and his sense of foreboding and of danger, he has to go out and find them.

And then one day, when the call to adventure becomes unbearable to him, when the bleakness of his existence grows to be too much to endure, he collects all his courage, pushes away his doubts, jumps up to the highest perch inside his pen and, to the amazement of the other chickens, spreads his wings and flies out. If Joshua would have known what awaited him, the magnitude of his leap into freedom, he might have stayed and therefore not endured all the hardships, the danger, the perilous quest and the overwhelming force of evil he was about to encounter. But he also would not have found the magnificent friends he made on his journey. And he certainly would not have found the one he was destined to meet all along.

More soon. Keep your fingers crossed and your mind open. And (I'm channeling Joshua now) watch your dreams. Always watch your dreams.

Very best wishes,

Stefan 

A Short But Sweet Review

Diane B. Silverberg about "The Three Feathers": "It is one of the most spell-binding, teeth grinding, holding your breath new books out there. A surprise read that should not be missed."

Interview with Stefan by Donnie Light

The Three Feathers – eBook76 Featured Book

I recently had the opportunity to work on a new first novel, “The Three Feathers” by Stefan Bolz. As I gathered the information for the eBook and Print book projects, I became interested in the book and wanted to know more about it. Stefan has graciously accepted an invitation to be interviewed about his novel, and have it be featured on the eBook76.com website.

 Donnie: As I was formatting this book for eBook and Print versions, I read bits and pieces of the story as I was working on it. The story seems very intriguing in concept, so I want to know more! First off, I see that the main character, Joshua Aylong, is a… Rooster. Can you give me the scoop on how this character – and his name came to be?

Please continue reading at Donnie's blog at http://ebook76.com/?p=476

The Labyrinth Of Mirrors

This is a small excerpt from the labyrinth of mirrors, Joshua and Grey's ordeal.

He wandered the endless labyrinth for close to a day. Once in a while he heard the distant howling of the wolf. His heart broke for him and he let out his own rooster crows that echoed eerily through the dark corridors. If they ever reached the wolf he did not know it. In the end he just sank to the ground, exhausted and overwhelmed by the hopelessnes

s of it all. He looked at himself in the mirror, looked at his face, his eyes, his beak. He saw the colors of his tail feathers and the red coloring of his back and wings. He just sat there staring at himself in the mirror for a long time.
The thought came slowly as if approaching from deep inside. It was quiet at first and small. But it gained momentum and at one point Joshua became aware of it.
“There must be a way out.”
Faint still but persistent, the thought grew in strength, and as it grew in strength it grew in hope as well. And suddenly a second thought joined the first.
“We can’t die in here.”
And when this one began to reach his awareness he knew he had to find it in himself to get up.
“Get up.” He thought to himself.
“Get up!” He thought to his mirror image.
“Get UP!”
And then he could no longer dismiss it. He had but one choice—to follow it.
He stood up, let the wave of dizziness wash over him; let the fear and hopelessness take him and pass through him. And then he knew it. There was just no way he would let his friend die. He had to find a way out.

Almost done (by Stefan)

There is a tiny bit of tweaking left on the cover of "The Three Feathers" before the book goes into print. Thank you all so much for your support, your likes, and your encouraging comments. This has been a daunting task. Not so much the actual process of publishing but exposing the world to a part of myself to that extent and the little voice inside my head whispering, "Who do you think you are? You can't write. You can't publish a book. Come on!!" 

I have been thinking about a one-liner that would describe The Three Feathers and what it's about, in a sentence. I found it in Kimberly Llewellyn's review: "...where friendship and love can overcome the most devastating of enemies — doubt in yourself." I think that's it. It's that doubt. Almost never fully conscious and mostly hidden yet always present in one way or another. Are we worthy enough to reach for the stars? Are we good enough, strong enough, brave enough, to go beyond our little self and

 search for something more than what is in front of us each day and every day after this day?

Joshua's search for the three feathers is the search of each of us for this hidden potential that we can sense in ourselves but never really pursue. We get an inclination here and there that there must be more to us. For us. Not crumbs but the whole banquet. And not so much materially but spiritually. Joshua sees, in a dream, what he could be, and from that moment on he cannot but search for it. His is a race against time for he has to find it before the dream fades back into nothingness. But he has limitations. He's not a mighty warrior or an athlete or a rocket scientist. He can't really fly. He can't do anything yet. All he can do is jump out of his pen (barely) and begin the journey, trusting that whatever it is he needs to know will be given him on his quest. Once he leaves though, he can't go back. He has to go through with it, however hard it is.

There are a lot of times throughout the journey when Joshua and his friends are faced with two choices: push through or die. The often perilous quest moves them toward its inevitable destination where each of them has a chance to find what they were looking for. But they can only make it together. They have to hold each other's hopes and keep them safe, otherwise the journey itself, the environment they are in, will just break them down one by one and obliterate them completely. The opposing forces are the guardians of sleep, trying to stop us from awakening to our true potential. Hollow's Gate, the land Joshua and his friends must travel through, is in and of itself an opposing force, trying to stop them from ever reaching their goal. Such is life, be that a rooster's or a human's.


This should have been just a small update and here we are going deep into the story (of life).

Back to "reality" ;-),

Stefan

A small scene about Krieg's experience in the war

“What is your name?” Joshua asked after a moment.

“Krieg,” the war horse answered.

“What does it mean, Krieg?”

“It means ‘war’. Just ‘war’. I was bred for the war, born during the war and trained for battle.

“Is that where all your scars come from?” Joshua asked.

The horse looked toward the dark horizon, lost in his thoughts.

“I have seen death and too much of it. On the battlefields of Toloose where men fought men for land that belonged to neither. For riches that held no value other than a handful of sand that amounted to nothing. I saw blood there that ran like crimson rivers across the charred soil. It spilled from brothers and fathers and sons, from big hearts and small ones and the blood of each flowed into the others’ and in death they became one once again and they forgot why it was they had fought.”

He turned toward Joshua and the Wolf. “I just want peace. I do not wish to fight for my life anymore. I’m too old. Too tired. Soon. Soon, I will follow my fathers’ path into the great vast grasslands where the sun never sets and the water is plenty, and where there is peace for all living things. Until then, I am in your debt, Joshua. In both of yours."

Perfection is not necessary

“Joshua,” Wind’s thoughts came to him like a warm ray of sun on a cold and dreary day. “Perfection was never necessary. Willingness was. And of that you have plenty. Your heart is open and that is all. Mistakes cannot stop you from finding your destiny. And in searching for your own you are finding it for others. You began this journey for yourself. But you will end it for everyone.”

Joshua was stunned. He never thought this, never held such lofty ideas about himself. And even though Wind’s thoughts were like balm on his soul, he could only accept them partially, and with many reservations. He could not believe they would ever become his only truth. There was just no way. He was who he was and accepting himself as more than that was something he could only see in others and not himself. He could see greatness in Krieg. He could see greatness in Grey and certainly in Wind. But whatever it was that grew within himself, it was safer not to go anywhere near it.

"The Three Feathers" review - By Kimberly Llewellyn

I've made it an unofficial policy of mine to simply not review indie books that I do not like. Grandma's old adage, "If you can't say something nice. . . ." sorta stuck with me, she'd be happy to hear. "I'm glad something stuck in that girl's thick head," she'd say. However, when an author actually submits a novel for review, I feel an obligation to give it my best shot to let the author know where I feel the story and/or writing could improve and the reader know they might want to skip it. I got that tight, nervous, "oh, no, oh, no, no, no" feeling between the shoulder blades when I started The Three Feathers. Yep. I started to tense up right on the first page, already dreading writing this review. Someone poured their heart and soul into this book, took a leap of faith sending it to me for review, and here I sit judging it from the first page. I imagine Mr. Bolz is feeling that hard, cold knot in his stomach right about now reading this, so I've got to let him off the hook. Not even realizing it, I looked up a few pages later and noticed that nervous feeling I had, the dread, had melted away. I had become thoroughly immersed, enthralled, in fact, by the magical world of Joshua the rooster and hadn't even realized it. Yes, rooster. Give it a chance, people. ;)

Stefan Bolz's The Three Feathers is a delightful story about stepping out of the box, following your dreams (literally and figuratively, in Joshua's case) and finding your place, your mission. It is about the bonds of friendship and love, and making differences a strength. It reminds me on many levels of an old Chinese proverb; the language, the Zen-like lessons, the writing itself. The best I could describe it would be an ancient Chinese fable intertwined with a Grimm's fairy tale, a parable, and an epic fantasy.

The Three Feathers follows Joshua the rooster as he escapes his mindless but easy life in the coop. He has had a dream, and unlike many of us Joshua is brave enough to follow it even though it means leaving the comfort of everything he knows, there is danger at every turn, and he doesn't know what it really means. He just knows that he must. As his journey begins he meets his companions, Grey and Krieg, a brave wolf and a mighty war horse. Together, they help Joshua follow his dream, while each of them separately fights to overcome their own personal demons. Friendships are forged and obstacles are overcome, fantastical creatures are discovered and evil souls unearthed.

Joshua steps out of his comfort zone and opens his heart to magical possibilities -- I am asking you to do the same when you read The Three Feathers. The writing style and dialogue is a bit different -- formal yet simple. That's part of what put me off for the first few pages, I think, but now I realize it is part of the charm and I couldn't imagine it any other way. The punctuation could have used a little help, but given my background I think I notice punctuation errors more than the average reader.

Mr. Bolz has woven a hypnotic tale where friendship and love can overcome the most devastating of enemies -- doubt in yourself. This is a book for all ages. There is danger, yes, and doubt and sadness and loss. But lessons cannot be learned without them, am I right? This book is marvelously innocent and thought-provoking all at the same time. Tired of the jaded and worn out modern fantasy tale? I enthusiastically encourage you to pick up this enchanting fable and rediscover the innocent joy of childhood and the magical wonder of life in this simple yet wonderfully complex story. Joshua and his friends will make you a believer, I promise.

Kimberly Llewellyn - The Indie Book Review
www.TheIndieBookReview.Wordpress.com

The Great River (spoiler alert)

Dear Friends,

It's Grey. First of all, I hope you know that I did not die at the end of my journey with my good friend Joshua. I am very much alive. Life does neither begin in birth nor end in death. It is much bigger than that. From where I am, life as I have known it - as it is know by most - is but a tiny drop of water compared to the ocean; a single sunbeam compared to the sun. I was very surprised to experience it and not in my wildest dreams could I have known what would happen. Which brings me to what I want to talk to you about. During our adventure in The Three Feathers, Krieg had thought about how everything that happened in his life seemed to have been like small creeks and brooks that eventually flowed into a great river and that river lead him to take the leap and leave his limitations behind (you must admire him for that. To even question ones limitations is probably one of the hardest things to do. Ever. But I know that Krieg is preparing an entry that has to do with that and so I'll better stick to my own topic for now.) 

I had a vision once. It has not been recorded in The Three Feathers. I shared it in a private conversation with Joshua and at the time of chronicling what had happened Joshua felt that it should be left private for the time being. Now I think it will be a great addition to the back story. The vision came to me just before Joshua, Krieg, Wind, Dragon-of-the-Stone, Alda and I reached the cave of dreams, the end of our journey. We had slept close to the river that flowed toward the cave and when I was just about to wake up, I had a vision of that river being the Great River of life. I saw myself walking along its shore, slowly keeping up with its flow. When I looked around I saw friends, family members and others whom I had met throughout my life. They walked with me along the edge. Sometimes one of them would step into the river and disappear into it. At other times, someone would come out the river and join the rest of us. 

I realized in great astonishment that we were all connected through the river. I saw Ayres, my life long friend who had been killed by the vulture. I saw him go into the river and disappear. But even though I didn't see him anymore, I could still feel him next to me. Only during the times when I walked slightly faster or slightly slower than the flow of the river I lost the connection to him. The moment I adjusted my own walking to the flow of the river, I felt his presence very clearly next to me. And even more so, he did not seem to be separate from me but rather very much a part of me. 

When I let go of my bodily form later on and joined up with my long lost companion once again, I realized that we had never been apart. My grief over losing her had blinded me to the river's flow and the recognition that I had walked much faster at times and much slower at others. I tried to run away at times and I almost gave up and stopped walking at others. But the moment I joined with her at the end of the journey I basically finally adjusted to the flow of the river and I could feel her again. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever experienced. Knowing that she was - and has been - there with me all this time was overwhelming at first. But I found out that the great river can't lose anyone. There is nothing outside and because there is nothing outside, there is nobody that can be left behind by it. It is there, always, forever, for all times and beyond even time itself. 

Even now, if you want to either slow down a bit or pick up the pace, you might just feel me walking next to you; or someone you have lost along the path we are all on. I know now for a fact that, in the end, we'll all be together. What an amazing experience that is going to be. I look very much forward to it. 

Until then, I stay very truly yours, walking next to you along the Great River of Life,

Grey

Everything begins with a dream...

Hi everyone, Stefan here,

The story of The Three Feathers and Joshua Aylong's magnificent adventure is only a few weeks away from leaving its home inside this laptop; inside this safe haven of dim obscurity. The idea of a rooster searching for three feathers somewhere deep inside a mountain grew from a small seedling to something far beyond itself. During the process of writing it, I realized that I was on my own journey right along with Joshua. How it came about, the momentum it gained while it was written and where it lead me and the characters in the end, was simply astonishing. Several times throughout the process I felt very clearly that my conscious mind had absolutely nothing to do with it and that the story in itself was something that was there already, like a piece of history on a scroll that I just happened to find.  

I was deeply touched at times, moved at others, and couldn't help but weep profusely during the writing of the last 15 or so pages. In its simplest, the story is, I think, about our search for something more than what is in front of us every day; something beyond ourselves; something greater; something we cannot grasp. 

Everything begins with a dream. Everything. It might be a small one, it might be seemingly insignificant or it might seem outright crazy. But whatever it is, it sometimes propels us to go and search for it, even though we have no clue why and what it is we truly mean to find. We just have this sense that something is missing, that the picture is not complete. And on our way we find friends who are, in one way or another, with us on this journey. Without them it would be impossible for us to find what we are looking for. For there is danger on the road, there is despair and fear and a sense of futility that the quest might just be for naught in the end and that we but have set out on a senseless journey with no purpose. Who has not felt this at some point in their lives?
As Wind, one of the characters in the story, points out to Joshua: “You have begun this journey for yourself. But end it you will for everyone.” In this sense, Joshua’s journey mirrors our own. From the beginning to its end. From a fading dream through a perilous quest and on to its magnificent conclusion.

Keep your dream alive.

Publishing Schedule Update

Hi, it's Stefan. Just a brief update on what's happening. The kindle, nook and iBook versions of "The Three Feathers" should be ready by the end of the month of June 2012. Formatting is pretty much done. I just looked at the book on an iPad and it looks amazing. Waiting for some copy editing and the title page. The paperback and hard cover versions will come out roughly by September. Then the movie, of course, ideally with Peter Jackson as the director :-). How much fun would that be!!!!!!!! I will send out links once the books are 'live'. Stay in touch through this blog or via the "The Three Feathers" Facebook page.

Cheers,

Stefan

What is to come...

Hi there, it's Joshua.
If you have read "The Three Feathers", you might ask yourself what's next. Is this the end or maybe just the beginning? A lot happened during my travels through Hollow's Gate but there was one moment in particular that has importance to the continuation of our journey together. As it is with some things in life, what we might judge as insignificant may just be the small pebble that falls into a still pond, its ripples reaching far across and all the way to the other side--unbeknownst to us. The same happened when my good friend Grey and I inadvertently activated the beacon--the ancient means of traveling between the worlds. We did not know this at the time but the ripple effect of it was enormous. A whole world on the other end of the galaxy began to awaken because of it. And as the pendulum swings from one tipping point to the next, this world arose from the ashes and began to blossom and grow and reach new heights within its civilization. Hundreds of years of splendor followed. But as the midpoint was crossed, the zenith passed and the value structure changed, the darkness slowly made its way into the mind of the people. Greed became normalcy. Friends became foes, neighbors enemies. And what was once "freedom for all" now changed into "power to a few".

Almost 1000 years after the beacon was activated, the people of Nibiru--the Sky People, as they were called in the indigenous language of my world--were lost. They could not find themselves anymore and they could not find each other. But as it was in my time, each civilization has a searcher, a 'dreamer of light', if you will, who stands at the very tipping point of the pendulum, either ending what has become a path of despair or beginning a new hope or in some cases both. There is one in particular I am thinking of. She does not know it yet but it is on her to restore hope to her people, to bring the human spirit back from the brink of an abyss that is about to swallow it whole and set chaos in its place. Her name is Aries. Don't be fooled by her age. Fourteen years is young to shoulder the fate of your world but as I have learned, age, size, or any handicaps and limitations you think you might possess, have no bearing on what you can do. None at all. She is on her journey as we speak. Once it is finished--or at least once the first part of her journey is over, you will be able to read about it. After all, she is The Fourth Sage and her people's only hope.

Peaceful travels,

Your friend,
Joshua

"How Small Are You?" by Broga

Dear fellows,
Let me introduce myself first. My name is Broga. I am a peeper frog and the guardian of the Porte Des Lioness, the sealed entrance into the mountain through which Joshua and his friends, Krieg and Grey, needed to go in order to save Wind and reach the Cave of Dreams, the destination of their journey together.
I have been asked to make a contribution to this and thought what better topic to write about than to write about smallness and tallness, about height or the seeming lack thereof. Over my long life I have been asked many times why I am so small. First, there is absolutely no way I can answer that. Second, it's a paradoxical question as I am not small. You might think I am. How tall are you? Four feet? Five feet? Six feet? Seven feet? I am, stretched out, exactly 7.5 tenth of an inch tall, which is just about 2 centimeters. You might believe that your height, the height of your body, has anything to do with weather or not you are small or large, tall or tiny. I don't believe so. You must realize that you and I can not be measured in weight, in height or in anything like that. Can you measure potential? The sheer unbound potential of someone who recognizes who he or she is? Can you measure will power? Can you measure a dream or a hundred dreams? Is one dream larger than another, or more forceful? We all have them. We all have in us all of the universe; its vastness and its beauty. And let me tell you something that took me a few hundred years to realize: There is nothing small within you. Nothing at all. What you think of as small is just a belief about yourself. The belief is the only thing that is small. It's just a spec of dust with no power other than the one you give it. Be happy that you are wrong about who you are in truth. So, now go. I have things to do. BIG things. Remember always: your purpose is not small. How then can you be?


Yours truly,


Your friend, Broga