Scenes and Sequels

Outlining is good for keeping structured story, but as I write, I find it so easy to slip back into just letting it flow. As you can see in the following bit of story, I don't even stick to the outline of using mistrust. It has become more of a 'sequel', a special kind of scene that happens between conflicts.

Scenes establish conflict. Sequels allow room to get a breather. Scenes are meant to force a character to go through challenges, emotional, mental, physical, moral, etc. Sequels can give them room to address what has happened to them and establish an opinion of what they will do based on what has been learned by the experience.

This isn't the only purpose of sequels, but a good one. The real benefit is giving the immersed readers a break from the stress. If you have a very engaging story, your readers will feel what the characters feel and worry for them. This can be taxing for anyone. Grant a sequel to allow for information to be processed and perhaps a little bit of a happier and hopeful mood.

And now, to the sequel:

"How did you do that?" Makos asked with wide eyes. The girl looked at him with a confused expression. He said, "How did you make that fire? How did you control it, and how did you run all over so fast?"

Larca frowned. "I used magic." She stated matter-of-factly.

"You didn't break anything, well, other than the monsters' tree." He exclaimed. "How did you control it?"

Larca smiled. "My sister taught me." She said.

"Your sister can use magic, too?" He gasped.

"Yes."

"How did you get magic?" Makos asked.

Larca shrugged her shoulders. "I was born with it."

Makos' eyes narrowed. "Before yesterday, I never heard of anyone who even believed magic was real. You can't have had it your whole life."

"Why not?" Larca asked, head tilting to the side while she studied his face carefully.

"Because-" He stammered, "Because there wasn't any magic before yesterday!"

Larca laughed. "You really think that?"

Makos blushed. "Well, yeah! Nobody has magic besides me and the clockmaker."

"Clockmaker?" Larca asked quickly. She took a step closer to Makos and continued. "Where did you see the clockmaker?"

Makos took a step back, then folded his arms and frowned at her. "He came to my home. He's gone now, though." He added when her eyes became intense.

"He left already?" She asked, looking very concerned all of a sudden. "What happened?"

"I sort of..." He rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I didn't mean to, but I used magic against him and kind of threw him miles away."

Larca stared at him.

"What?" He asked, scratching his neck.

"You banished the clockmaker?" She asked incredulously.

"Yeah. I guess so." He admitted. "I didn't mean to, though." He added quickly.

Larca closed her eyes for a few seconds, then burst into laughter. She wrapped her arms around herself and tears began to trickle from the corners of her closed eyelids. Makos was a little nervous seeing this girl lose her balance and fall on her back, only to continue laughing louder than before as she rolled from side to side.

"What's so funny?" He asked when she took a gasp for air.

"You- You!" She said through a series of more laughter.

Makos frowned. "What? Why am I funny?"

Larca took deep breaths and stopped rolling about. She answered, though she couldn't help chuckling between words. "You banished the clockmaker." Her face was red and she opened her eyes, speaking seriously. "I have to stop that. It's too funny."

"Stop what?" He asked, definitely confused.

"I can't close my eyes." She responded. "If I do-" She blinked, then let out a raucous guffaw. "I won't be able to stop." She chuckled quietly to herself as she got to her feet.

Makos' frown returned. "You aren't making sense."

"Sorry." Larca said. "It's one of my magic powers. If I close my eyes, I can see the memories of those around me, and that was hilarious."

"Really?" He asked.

"Yeah. I don't think I've ever seen anything so funny."

"No," He clarified. "I mean you can see memories, too?"

"Yep." She said, smiling. "I can't help it, sorry."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you saw me making those green ripples-" Larca snorted, but quickly composed herself. "that threw him?"

Larca nodded. "He must have been so shocked." She said excitedly. "I bet he's sulking right now." She smiled and gazed to the side.

Makos wondered how she knew so much about the clockmaker. "You've met him before?"

Larca folded her arms. Her jovial mood disappeared. "Yes. I wish I never had."

"Why?" Makos asked.

She looked to the side thoughtfully. "He turned my grandfather into a clock and took him away. My family has tried to get grandpa back, but the clockmaker keeps all of the clocks with him all of the time. It's impossible."

Makos recalled the dozens of clocks spread across his front yard. Each had been unique. He wondered which one had been Larca's grandfather. A realization shook him to his senses. "Your grandpa is in my front yard right now!" He blurted out.

"What?" Larca asked. "He's still there?"

Makos nodded.

"Let me see!" She said. "Try to picture it in your mind. Show me all of the clocks."

Makos closed his eyes and tried to recall each clock he had examined and all of the clocks in the distance from where he and Danos had been that night. He remembered the fish clock especially well and Larca gasped when he thought of it. His memory continued up until he heard his own father's voice muffled behind cracked glass on the face of one particular clock. the voice cut off when the crack mended itself magically.

"Did you see him?" Makos asked. "Where any of those him?"

Larca frowned, eyes sorrowful. "No." She answered. "He wasn't there."

After a moment of silence, she added, "The clockmaker must still have him."


Continuing tomorrow...