It occurs to me that “human” is actually a terrible adjective to describe an adventuring group that included an elf, a Ratarian, a rock giant, and a half-dwarf/half-halfling. Let me try that again.
The real story is more interesting because it shows the unexpected (and sometimes very personal) challenges of adventuring and how rare it is that even the bravest, most capable heroes have a smooth and exciting journey from the beginning of a quest to the treasure chest at the end. I’ve met hundreds of adventurers, and with some rare exceptions (notably Grimple, but that’s primarily because he’s epically stupid), they’re just like everyone else—maybe just a little braver, and a little more foolish. They have good days and bad days, and what’s inspiring about them is not so much that they slay dragons (or don’t slay dragons, as the case may be); it’s that they persevere through situations where they have no idea what to do, but where not taking action is not an option. My hope is that by sharing the story of Nadi and her band’s efforts to save Skendrick, you’ll gain an appreciation for what the adventuring life is really like, and maybe the next time you see an adventurer at a tavern, you’ll buy him or her a drink, offer a pat on the back and a kind word, and thank the gods that it’s not you who’s stuck in a swamp that smells like rancid baby diarrhea.
I can sense, however, that you still have questions. “But, Heloise—how do you get your hair so silky?” Well, it’s a combination of extract of krump and califor oil. That’s not really what you meant to ask though, I know—what you really want to know is why I can finally tell the story behind the story, right?
I assure you that I’m not violating anyone’s confidence in telling the true tale. The dragon, who discovered a new favorite vegetable in the southern region of Kolaria about two decades after our encounter with it, relocated with the bulk of its treasure and is living happily and anonymously in an entirely different part of the world (though rumor has it that she couldn’t carry quite all of her treasure when she moved, so it’s entirely possible that there is, in fact, gold in them thar hills for any hearty adventurers brave enough to go through the Dukbuter Swamp (or smart enough to find an orc child who can lead them around it)).
As for Nadi, Whiska, Rummy, and Borg…well, they went on to have a pretty epic adventuring career, and I’m happy to report that three-quarters of them are alive and happy.
(Wait…what, you ask? Who’s not alive and/or happy? And what about that wizard in Velenia, the one whom humbled our heroes and who they vowed to go back and defeat when they had honed their skills? What about that little loose end, Heloise?)
Well, loose ends—let’s call them “teasers”—are for sequels, dear reader, and sequels happen when a girl gets paid. So, maybe go buy everyone you know a copy of this book and check back with me in a year or so, okay?
A Request…
Did you enjoy The Part About the Dragon Was (Mostly) True? Reviews keep books alive . . .
* * *
Leave your review on either GoodReads or the digital storefront of your choosing.
* * *
We thank you greatly!
Acknowledgments
Writing is a solitary endeavor, but publishing a book is not. I’m incredibly grateful to the amazing team at Parliament House Press for taking a chance on this story even though my nose is longer than my publishing track record. Heloise would thank you too, but she’s too busy working on the next book.
I’m also thankful for the Goodreads community, which has been so incredibly supportive of my tomfoolery and shenanigans thus far. If I’ve learned anything about the wonderful weirdos who hang out there, it’s that their kindness and wit exceeds even their excellent taste in terrible books.
No one writes in a vacuum (primarily because physics won’t allow for it), and no one manages to stay motivated to write books in the midst of the insanity of having a very busy job, young children, and a crazy commute without the support of a bunch of stalwart friends. I wouldn’t still be banging my head against this wall if it weren’t for Bret Bowman, Josh Little, Naveen Vemuri, Jeff Yates, Eric Liebetrau, Peter Martin, and Scott Weinstein. So, blame them if you hated this. (And Bret—let’s inflict Cheesecalibur on the world sometime soon, shall we?)
To the good people at Grounded in Alexandria, the world’s best coffee shop: thank you for keeping me caffeinated and for creating a bright, kind, and welcoming place for everyone who passes through your doors.
My parents never batted an eyelash when, more than two decades ago, I told them I wanted to be an English major. They could have told me to study something useful instead, but they didn’t, and I love them for it. If I’m in any way a good parent myself, it’s because I learned from the best.
And, of course, there are the people who are stuck living with me: my amazing wife Jessica and my wee rapscallions Henry and Hannah (and loyal feline Wilson, of course). To quote noted sage Bryan Adams, everything I do, I do it for you. I hope that I can make you as proud as you make me feel happy, loved, and like I’m part of the best team in the world. I love you guys.
About the Author
Sean Gibson is not a professional mini biography writer (if he were, this would be much more compelling). Instead, he’s a highfalutin professional guy by day, hangs out with his amazing wife, son, and daughter by night, and writes somewhere in between, usually in the backseat of strangers’ cars (true story). He holds a BA in English Literature from Ohio Wesleyan University and an MBA from the Kelley School of Business at Indiana University, but he really wishes he had been able to matriculate at Hogwarts (he would have been in Hufflepuff, he thinks). Sean is a fan of sports teams from Detroit, a distressingly large number of bands that rose to prominence in the 1980s, and writing in the third person. He resides in Northern Virginia, and, given how much he hates moving, and given that his house has an awesome library that includes a globe with a hidden decanter of Scotch in it, is likely to remain there for some time. In addition to The Part About the Dragon Was (Mostly) True, Sean is the author of The Chronicle of Heloise & Grimple as well as The Camelot Shadow and its prequel short, "The Strange Task Before Me." He has written extensively for Kirkus Reviews, and his book reviews have also appeared in Esquire. You can befriend him on Goodreads and follow him on Twitter at @Gibknight, though goodness knows why you’d want to.
The Parliament House
THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE
Want more from our amazing authors? Visit our website for trailers, exclusive blogs, additional content and more!
Become a Parlor Peep and access secret bonus content…
* * *
JOIN US