Kathleen Newton

 Hi Friends. We've made it to the first chapter of The Swordbearer!  Oof. You know when you realize you're actually about to put something out there for everyone to see? I was extremely tempted to edit heavily before posting this but that is not the point! The point of this project is to embrace and honor the cringe of our childhood selves. But to ease the vulnerability hangover, I'd love to know in the comments; what was the cringiest thing you did when you were 11? Mine was definitely thinking that 14 was an appropriate age for the heroine of an epic fantasy adventure ...  Confused as Hell? Start  here .  --- I guess it all started when my family moved from New York to Vermont.  Dad got laid off a couple months before, and the only work he could find was as a logger in Bethel, Vermont.  I loved the big city, the hustle and bustle of daily life in New York.  Needless to say I was a bit bitter about this whole move.  Okay, “a bit” is kind of an understatement.  The last day

Hi Friends, So here it is, the first rewrite of The Swordbearer. A bit of a rough start, but a start nonetheless. Would love to hear from you in the comment section. What's your favorite fantasy novel? Confused as Hell? Start here .  *** The night was terribly still and dark, in a world very different from our own. We will not spend long in this world right now dear reader, but for the purposes of this story, there are two things you should know now. In this world, there is a Kingdom called Caelcar that hardly stirs after sundown; not in the villages, or the forests save for birds and beasts that don’t know any better. Not even in the cities could you find a soul out after dark for reasons that are too expansive to explain in any detail right now. There are many unexplainable things in the forests of Caelcar, and one of them is the waters. There are streams that babble up from beneath ancient trees which when drunk may give energy to even the weariest traveler; springs that tempt w

 Hi Friends. So you're gonna need some context for this madness.  When I was 11, I wrote a novel.  Okay, I wrote 30,000 words and called it a novel. But you know, still impressive for an 11-year-old. It was the first Big Thing I accomplished and I'm still really proud of it even though it was, and I cannot stress this enough, utter garbage.  Amazingly, I still have the manuscript saved in a Google drive. It is called The Swordbearer , a title so heinous I can barely utter it aloud, and I re-read it recently for the waves of nostalgia and to have a good laugh about it. As I scrolled through all 100 pages (Sans Serif, 14pt - I was determined to get those triple digits, okay???) I found myself thinking, I probably shouldn't dedicate dozens of hours of my summer to releasing and re-writing this shit .  So I'm gonna dedicate dozens of hours of my summer to releasing and re-writing this shit.  Listen, it's funny as Hell and I think you deserve to know about it.  But more