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Why Break the Wheel?

Nick Hayden
May 9, 2014

leo

Who doesn’t wish he could play as Leo just a little longer? There’s a NPC worth exploring.
From here

Now that all 10 stories of The Wheel is Broken are available for your enjoyment, you may (not) be asking: “Why bother writing a collection of flash fiction about random characters we’ll never meet again? Give us more Bron! Give us more Jaysynn! Even more Calea, if it comes to that!”

Well, I’m glad you asked.

Answer: I felt like it.

Expanded Answer: It seems that most of what I write (or want to write) are reiterations of ideas I’ve had for a long time. You might even call them themes. (more…)

Updates: Orphan ebook, More The Wheel Is Broken

By Nick Hayden
April 12, 2014

All right, dear readers, it’s time for an update-filled post.

First, if you haven’t read, we’re undergoing some changes here at Children of the Wells. The biggest change is we’re going to start releasing books only when they’re completed, instead of serializing them. For some explanation of the reasons, check out Natasha’s blog from last week.

Second, we’re busy preparing a collection of short stories as an anniversary gift for you all. We’ve about all the stories in. You should see it sometime near the end of the month, if everything goes as planned.

Third, since The Well’s Orphan is finished, we’ve compiled it as an ebook. Download it as an epub, mobi, or PDF and read it at your convenience–or share it with others.

Fourth, and finally, since we have a bit of dead space as we finish up our short story collection, I thought it would be nice to release the rest of The Wheel Is Broken here on the site. (more…)

Breaking the Wheel

wheel-is-brokenBy Nick Hayden
June 7, 2013

I still hear that voice, faint but constant. I force the door to the next room open, the hinges protesting. The floor above is visible. Two more dead, and one alive beneath the rubble. Grigor. He likes tea. That’s all I can remember of him at the moment, all that sticks. He stares up at the third-floor ceiling. His legs are pinned beneath a cabinet. He’s cut somehow; I see blood pooled beneath his lower body. His lips are moving, and sometimes they make noise. I come to him.

“Do you know where Calea Lisan is?”

He stares at me, confused. Suddenly, his hand is at my neck, fumbling for my collar.

“I had a dream,” he says. “I knew I would die this way.”

*   *   *

I read this passage during one of my last edits of The Select’s Bodyguard, and for the life of me I couldn’t remember why I wrote it this way. This throwaway character had a dream about his death? There was a story there, somewhere. (This is how I write, with random details I can come back and unpack later if I want.) (more…)