Pistol Rose and the Wedding that Sparked a War by Michael Ryan Hahn Book Tour, Guest Post & Giveaway! {Ends 11/23/23}

Review By LAWonder10:

Pistol Rose is a fantasy tale in a make-believe place. It is very original and the characters are very unique as are the surrounding settings. It is a graphically violent story.

The book is quite well-written and the characters were fairly easy to connect with. The Book Title was well chosen. However, I feel that the book Cover Image could have been much better.  I do not feel it would attract the attention of “the book browser”.

This story represents barbaric societies – some worse than others. It seems very unlikely, yet when one compares it to the Liberals and Conservatives in the United States as well as in other parts of the world, it is close in comparison. Attitudes in the societies are similar… That is quite frightening!

As the story progressed, it became more captivating.

I offer a Three and a Half Stars rating.

This book was gifted me with no pressure to post a positive review. This is my honest review.

Finding Your Voice: Writing in the Third Person Present

It’s always happening right now, the way I see it. The story isn’t a piece of history or a message from the future, but a dream I scramble to record before it flies away. That could be why I’m most comfortable writing in the present tense.
Or maybe it’s because I’ve spent a fair amount of time writing screenplays, and past tense isn’t an option in that arena. Everything is now; no time for -ed when an -s will do! Engrained habits don’t sand down easily; those grooves bite before they yield. They want to stay the dominant hand.
But the main thing is probably that it’s easier for me to step into a character’s shoes, and cobble the tale on through with their voice, than it is to pull it from my own. I would certainly see a story as having happened, but my narrator remembers it as though it is happening now. There’s something less safe about that, less final, and more alive—and oh how the narrator wishes those friends lost were still alive. The only way to pry this story from that orator’s lips is to let those older eyes see it exactly as they do. Which happens to be now. Something about love and war just feels that way.
Above all that, I probably do it because a great writing teacher I had once told me, “If you ever get stuck, start writing the story as a letter to me.” The story springs from that, and soon it roars. It gives me a specific audience to attempt to make smile or cry or gasp or at least lean in, from the jump. And so, every book in the Pistol saga will begin with a letter, to you. It’s a stage-setter, a windup. It of course invites you to participate, and every letter I’ve ever written has leaned toward the here-and-now as opposed to being a recounting of the past because to me a letter’s nature bends more toward a communication than a report. So, present tense it is!
I apologize if you prefer the past. I don’t dislike the past; I’ve spent time there like everyone else, and it can be—or, rather, it was—quite lovely. But those characters who know and love and fight Pistol Rose don’t have time for that! Their concerns lie entirely before them.
 I enjoy writing in the Third Person the best. Writing in the head of a character instead of my authorly omniscient self gets my attention out of my body, and the Third Person brings it even further away until it’s like I can’t even see the keyboard or the words flitting by on the screen. Whatever it takes to go there seems to be worth the exercise. For instance, it would be much easier to write this Guest Blog Post if I were to do it in the voice of a Punimin from Pistol Rose’s world.
“As he sits at a large desk covered with tasks, many both pressing and somehow disurgent at once, he struggles to block out the sounds of war outside his walls. He can’t hear the sounds of course, for the fighting and scrambling are far away. Their screaming textures are only in his mind, for now.
But he knows those wars are out there, and they are weaving their way toward him with a certain steadiness. He only hopes that he can scribe through his duties on his crude typing machine and present them to the messenger before the darkness invades and his fingers will find other duties, which cannot be argued as disurgent. He wonders if the axe on his wall is sharp enough to fend off a Strelkie or two.
He wonders if they’ll think to inspect the old muskets mounted like art among the fireplace stones.
Some of those bullet spitters are much less decorative than advertised. But, survive or not when war comes to the door, little else will matter if his messenger finds his post envelope empty. The look that messenger will give after all the work spent getting here, will be an infectiously withering thing. It will slice more deeply than ten Strelkie cutting through the house. The post envelope shall be filled and on time. The words matter most, for the right words survive, and the fears of war always leave one way… or another. With any luck, that old axe is plenty sharp enough and can spare this attention to the typing machine, which never wants for less.”
That’s the voice of the narrator in the first Pistol Rose book. This character can get a little “purple-prosy” and some tailoring is needed (I never let my narrator mind edit—that bit is for my authorly self and others) but that’s the short of how it works in my head. It feels like improvisation, a hostile but not altogether unfriendly takeover of the story. I keep the plan in the back of my mind, the directions, and like a sweating driving instructor letting the brave kid drive, I sit in the passenger seat and watch and hold on for dear life as, sometimes, those lines on the road and all the work various people put into crafting safety signs and rules amount to little more than inconvenient suggestions. And with swiftness, we fly.
© Michael Ryan Hahn