Explaining

"Well, I hid under an overturned spoon." Weldun answered.

"Wow." Danos remarked. "That is pretty small. Fin didn't find you?"

The governor shook his head. "He crashed up and down the mayor's house before the police showed up and he was forced to escape with his thugs. I felt horrible hiding while the mayor's property was destroyed." His shoulders slumped.

"Was he safe?"

"Yes. Fortunately, he didn't receive any physical harm to his person." Weldun sighed. "I can't say the same about his psyche, however. The poor man hasn't stepped out of his house since. I caught sight of him peeking through the window shades on ten different occasions all within a five minute span."

Danos neared the archway and noticed the narrow alley just before it. He slowed his pace and peered down alley. Dead leaves from several autumns had accumulated down the stretch of cramped brickwork. The walls of the buildings on either side couldn't have been more than four feet apart. Fading light sidled through small gaps between buildings.

"It's down there?" Danos asked, staring into the deepening shadows.

"That's right." Weldun said. "Straight down to the backside of the pub."

"Alright." Danos breathed. He straightened his shoulders and resisted smoothing the hair standing up on his neck. "Just a little ways in."

He slowly walked into the passage; his feet crinkled dry leaves flat. He glanced up at the few beams of light that managed to hit the eastern wall, visible in the floating dust.

"The pub is nearer to the end, actually." Weldun explained quietly.

The Magic Hat

"You'll see an archway up ahead." The governor explained. "Take a left at the alley right before it. I hid my belongings in a barrel behind the pub."

Danos nodded, then considered something, which he spoke. "Your hat is what gives you the power to change your size?"

"That's right." The little man answered.

"I'm curious," Danos continued, "Why didn't you take the hat along with you?"

A quiet sigh preceded some grumbling which Danos could not make out.

"What was that?" He asked.

"You may think you're a rather smart fellow, and me an old fool," The governor replied, "But I am the one with the magic hat. Don't assume I fell into my fortune, undeserving of the power."

"I'm sorry." Danos said. "I didn't mean to insult you. I just don't understand. How did you come across the hat?"

"Now there's a story!" The governor exclaimed.

(OK, I am getting a little annoyed typing "the governor" all of the time to reference the miniscule politician, so I am making a note here to go back and have him introduce himself by name for simplicity's sake. From now on, I have another option of indication for him.)

Ahem.

"Now there's a story!" Weldun exclaimed. "It was just the other day when I was traveling to this fine town in my coach. I had peeked out of the window at just the right moment. You see, there was a merchant's wagon pulled off of the road. One of its wheels had broken and bent and I saw the poor man puzzling over it.

"Having had a similar incident happen to my own vehicle two months prior, I felt it my duty as governor to inform the man that it was no hope trying to repair a wheel in such poor shape. I told him he would be better off accompanying me the remaining twelve miles to town.

"He was more than happy to accept my invitation, and very grateful. He tried offering me money as a reward for kindness, but I thought he would be needing it more than I sooner or later, so I turned it down. As a gesture of his gratitude, he insisted I at least take his new hat.

'"It is a lucky hat.' He told me. 'If you ever find yourself in a bind, simply tug on the brim and you will find yourself out of it.'

"I thought him insane, of course, but didn't want to offend him, so I took the hat." Weldun paused and Danos looked down at him, noticing a smile creeping across his face.

"What happened next?" Danos asked.

"Next," The governor answered, "I dropped him off in town at the wainwright's shop and made sure he had a horse to bring him back swiftly to his merchandise. Little did I know that the very hat he had given me would save my life that same evening."

"Save your life?" Danos pressed. "What happened?"

"I was invited to dine at the home of the mayor." He explained. "While we were eating and discussing plans for the development of more efficient transportation in the area, a crash came from the window. The mayor strode out of the dining room and I could hear his voice conversing with another." Weldun peered up at Danos. He put a tiny hand to the side of his mouth and whispered loudly, eyes opened wide. "It was Fin Daller."

"Who's that?" Danos asked.

The governor folded his arms and frown. "You don't pay much attention to the news, do you, boy?"

Danos shook his head.

"Well perhaps you ought to." Weldun said, then nodded once and continued. "Fin Daller is the leader of one of the rival burglar gangs in the capitol city. A few weeks ago, word had gotten around that he was looking for a chance to greet me personally. It had something to do with my push for increased street patrols ruining his underground trading schemes.

"Either way, I heard him say he was planning to do me in." The governor shivered. "I didn't like the idea of that, and my mind was quickly employed in trying to come up with a means of escape. When I tried sneaking out of a window, I caught a glimpse of some thugs waiting in the back yard. Fin was approaching down the hallway and I knew I had to act, but had no idea what to do.

"In the last moments of my panic, I recalled the promise of the strange merchant about my hat. Desperate to try anything at that point, I grabbed my hat, put it on and yanked on the brim as hard as I could."

"You shrunk?" Danos asked.

"Did I ever." The governor said. "I quickly learned the nature of the magic of the hat. I also soon realized that the power is increased the harder you tug the brim." He laughed.

"How small did it make you?" Danos asked.

To be continued.

Guest Article: Worldbuilding, by Bill Tracy (Mandamon)

First off, thanks to Jason for letting me spill words all over his blog space.  I will try to clean up my mess afterwards, but cannot be held accountable for any commas that might chance to escape into the wild.

Worldbuilding.  It's one thing that the Sci Fi and Fantasy genres can really call their own, their call to arms.  Without it, these places of make-believe are just crime dramas and soap operas with some glitter and elves throw at them.

Take a soap opera about the command structure of a naval vessel.  Not that interesting. But put it in Spaaaace, and you have Star Trek.  How about an essay on military formations in the early renaissance, gender politics, and the nature of good and evil?  Not actually a history book.  Just throw in elemental abilities gifted by the creator and you have The Wheel of Time saga.

These are trite examples, but my point is that worldbuilding is really what brings readers in to Sci Fi and Fantasy.  Have an existential question?  Define some geography, and a reason for fighting about it based on past history and you have people pulling up chairs to hear your story.

But I don't want to talk about just worldbuilding.  I want to talk about what drew me into reading and then emulating my favorite authors, and that is universes.

And by universes I mean not just building a world, but building an entire cosmos to support your story.  What better ego trip than to play God to an entire universe of possibilities? Some of my favorites are:

The Eternal Champion Cycle (Michael Moorcock)
The Cosmere (Brandon Sanderson)
Known Space (Larry Niven)
The Deathgate Cycle (Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman)

And to a slightly different extent, where the action only focuses on one world, but there are lots of hints that others are out there:
The Discworld (Terry Pratchett)
The Dresden Files (Jim Butcher)
The Wheel of Time (Robert Jordan)
The Riftwar Saga (Raymond Feist)

And so on.  I haven't even gone into the visual universes of stories, like Star Trek, or Star Wars, or the Marvel or DC universes, or, of course, Doctor Who.

I could go on for quite a while.  But there is a similarity between all of them.  All of Sanderson's Cosmere books are set in the same universe, but on different planets where the inhabitants (save a select few) aren't even aware there are others.  His systems of magic, at the very base, follow the same set of rules.

Michael Moorcock goes one step further, where he has a singular personality or soul who is reincarnated into a hero (or antihero) to solve a problem in different planes of existence.  Sometimes different incarnations even exist at the same time. 

Larry Niven uses the idea in a Science Fiction setting.  Many of his books take place in the same history, with the same alien species, the same technological developments, and the same colonized planets.  But the stories range from those with small consequences, or set in the near future, to those of galactic import, or set thousands of years in the future.

When creating a universe, the author, or authors, doesn't have to follow sequentially with the last chapter of the story they wrote (though some of them do).  It doesn't even have to be the same author, in the case of the Star Wars Extended Universe.  The stories can be about completely different things, even different genres of stories, but a single universe has the same underlying rules.  So you can hop in and read (or watch), and if you know some of the other stories, you can see the breadcrumbs the author dropped about other heroes and heroines you've read about.

Now, as an aspiring and unpublished writer, as I am, you might feel a bit daunted jumping into the deep end here, and that's understandable.  If you're not sure you'll even get published, much less finish your first book, why worry about future stories that you're never going to write?

Because it's so much fun.

I started my first novel when I was about fourteen.  I wrote many words, got several chapters in, and had a start to a fantastic tale with universe-shaking consequences.  Nay, Multiverse shaking.  I, not content to merely parade through one universe, had set up the basis for literally trillions of stories.

Life happened, I went to college, I didn't write except for an occasional scene or idea.  A few years after I finished college, I picked up writing again, and dove fully into it.  I picked up my old story, realized how terrible it was, and saw it was so heavy it was liable to stretch the boundaries of space-time just by writing it.

So I trimmed it down to one universe of possibilities.  I solidified the magic and the characters, and I finished writing it.  It was one of the best feelings I've ever had, writing what I knew to be the last few words of my 200,000 word masterpiece.

Then I found Writing Excuses.  The very first episode I listened to was Episode 5.13, "Writing the Second Book."  In it, the podcasters went down a list of all the things that were wrong with my book.  Specifically my book.  It was like they had read it.  And I realized both what the meaning of "trunk novel" was, and also that I needed to write another book.

So I did.

A few books later, I came back to that original story, pared it down again and re-wrote it from the ground up, without using any of the same text.  I didn't even look at the old text.  This one was only 150,000 words.

Why did I come back to it?  Because it has so much potential for a universe of stories.  Even if the first one I write never gets published, I could easily write a whole series about a different planet, or past history, or the future.  The universe of the story lives on.  Since then I have written one short story and one novelette set in the same universe, along with several stories not associated with that first one.  It was fun playing in my own world, and it helped me define more of the societal customs and rules that make the story vivid.  I will probably go back to that original story again at some point, and add in all the new details I've discovered while writing about things my main character has never heard of.  I'm an archeologist, putting fossils on display in a museum on the other side of the world from where the action is.  But that doesn't mean it doesn't matter.  I have ideas for not just the main sequence of novels, but more novelettes about side characters, political mysteries, histories, and more.  I get to write my own fan-fiction, and I'm not even published!
Just to make clear that I'm not completely crazy here, Brandon Sanderson's first book published was his eighth or ninth book written, if I remember correctly, but several of his unpublished books are set in his Cosmere, and he even references the worlds in his unpublished books in his published works, if you look carefully enough.  I can say what I want to do isn't just delusions of grandeur.

So in summary:
Worldbuilding is what really drew me into Fantasy and Science Fiction.  It's one of the main tools in these genres that is almost unique, and it's why groups of fans can have hours-long discussions about their favorite works.

Pros to creating your own universe:
You have plenty of opportunities to create stories.  If one doesn't work, find a different story.  During that time, you will build up a more complete history of your world or universe.
You can have your favorite characters pop up in different places, even if your readers don't know who they are yet (I'm looking at you, Hoid).
You can write different genres of stories, all with the same underlying rules.
You can create your own fan fiction.

Cons to creating your own universe:
Your first defining story in that universe is not likely to be very good, or even publishable.
You will have The Second Book Syndrome, as best described by the Writing Excuses crew in season 5 episode 13.
You will grow as a writer, and thus the stories will not be of consistent quality
Your ideas will change over time.  You might need to make "adjustments" in later stories.

I get excited about story universes because they have so much potential.  If you want an explanation of the video possibilities, rather than the text possibilities, look for Marvel's 2014 special "From Pulp to Pop," which dives into how they created their own universe and how it became so successful.  I know I'm going to see Age of Ultron on opening day--are you?  And then I'm going to be staying on schedule watching Agents of Shield because they tie in to the movies, and I have to see that extra bit of history unfold.  And I will be waiting for the events of the Civil War, the basis of which will no doubt be set up in Age of Ultron.  This is why we see the rise of the superhero story lately.  Because Marvel (followed by others) is building an entire new universe for us to live in.

Story universes tie readers together and give them communities.  They make us feel smart for catching that Easter Egg the writer threw in.  This is why I write Epic Fantasy--for the worldbuilding.  So I will keep writing books, whether they're published or not.  If not, I have my own private universe to play in.  And if they are, then I can let others play there too.

-----------------------------

I want to give a big thanks to Bill Tracy (a.k.a. Mandamon at the Reading Excuses Writing Group) for sharing his insights today. I've had the chance to read from his drafts and have heckled him already about not being published already. He told me he won't keep the world waiting too much longer, however, so keep an eye out for his amazing books when things get rolling!

-Jason

Finishing the Sequel

"He turned my father into a clock, too." Makos said, feeling helpless all over again. "We still have him, but we don't know how to change him back."

"We?" Larca asked.

"I have an older brother." Makos explained. "His name's Danos."

"He doesn't have magic like you do?" She asked.

Makos shook his head. "I don't think he would like it anyway."

"Why not?" Larca asked, eyes wide in shock. "Who wouldn't want magic?"

"I don't know." Makos replied. "I think my power makes him nervous. I kind of... break a lot of stuff, and having magic doesn't help me out with that."

(If you have been following along, you may notice some inconsistencies in the story. I am taking advantage, yet again, of the fact that this is my first draft. I can go through it again later from start to end and rewrite parts. Notice that the purpose of this blog is for me to practice writing, so I apologize if any changes make things hard to keep track of, though I will add notes as I go along, like this, if I feel any major changes need to be addressed. I will also be giving spoilers throughout for what I plan to write later in the story. Some may turn out to be false alarms. It all depends on how things go when I get to those parts. Also, as I read, I realize my characters are not acting, or more so talking, their ages. I am considering bumping their ages up in the revisions. Who knows?)

"May I see your powers in person?" Larca asked politely.

Makos shrugged his shoulders. "I guess, but you might want to stand behind me. I don't really know how they work yet."

She moved behind him. Makos set his feet in a sturdy stance and took a deep breath. 'I hope this doesn't go too badly...' He thought, then swung one arm out quickly like he was throwing something sideways.

Nothing happened.

"Hmm." He remembered that his waving had made no ripples when the monsters attacked him. He swung his arms around harder several times, but there was still no magic.

Larca suppressed a giggle.

Makos frowned deeply. He kicked a few times toward a tree just to be sure, but there was no response.

"Are you OK?" Larca asked, hiding a humored tone.

"I did it before." He exclaimed. "It stopped working when the monsters tried to eat me." He studied his hands. Why wasn't it working? He was doing everything like he had before, but it was like the magic had left him.

"Well, that's OK." She said, patting him on the shoulder. "You can always try again later."

"I guess." He agreed.

"Would you take me to your house?" Larca asked. "I want to see these clocks. I think I recognized one."

"You did?" Makos asked. "Sure. We should stop back in town first, though. I left my brother back there and he is probably really worried. I was supposed to meet up with him a while ago." Makos hoped Danos hadn't gone to the police to report him missing. His gut felt like it was twisting into a knot. He turned to face Larca and said, "Now that I think about it, I probably shouldn't go into town."

"Why not?" She asked.

"I'm a wanted criminal." He said through a worried expression.

"You?" She asked, then closed her eyes. She put a hand to her mouth and chuckled quietly. "Oh. I see."

"I'm not really a criminal." He said quickly. "I guess my powers just acted up at the wrong time."

Larca smirked at him. "And you pretending to be a rune knight didn't have anything to do with it, I'm sure."

His face grew red.

Makos didn't respond to that, instead noting, "It's this way."

The two moved through the tall evergreens as the sun disappeared behind the mountains in the distance.

-----------------

Danos glanced  at the horizon. It was getting late. The sun was low in the sky, and it would be dusk in a couple of hours. His focus was broken when a tiny cane poked him in the neck.

"Don't get distracted now." The governor glared up at him from within his shirt pocket. "We must hurry. My bones are aching, which means rain. At this size, a raindrop packs a bit more punch."

"Sorry." Danos said, resisting the urge to look at the clouds.

To Be Continued.

(This is a reminder to myself to include a quirk about Makos' magic. Spolier alert. Don't read if you want to be surprised:

(Highlight this next section if you want to see)
Makos and Danos are going to discover that they both share a portion of magic. Often without warning, it will shift from one of them to the other. The power manifests differently for each of them, too.)

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...

Foreshadowing and Red Herrings

Change of plans for today. I'm going to take a Free Day and just have fun.

There's no reason not to pick something to demonstrate, however. And by that I mean I get to practice something new. What should I practice today? So far I have gone over things like conflict, character development, pacing, reader immersion, voice and work-shopping help. What else would be good to go over?

Alright. I admit I have been avoiding one particular topic I don't completely understand. It is an author's tool known as foreshadowing. I have a vague understanding of its purpose, but not quite how to create and employ it. Sounds like time to research.

...

Well, I've read a little on the topic and need to try explaining it so that I can make sense of it. Foreshadowing is used to create a sense of expectancy, of anticipation of something to come, particularly a conflict or plot twist, as I understand it.

One example is writing a book where the personal growth challenge the protagonist needs to overcome is a fear of dying. To foreshadow this, we need to include clues in the character's speech, gestures and expressions of nervousness or even anger when a relative topic is brought up, avoiding thinking about death, perhaps focusing efforts on living longer or forever, or creating some sort of protection through armies, technology, or magical means.

None of these clues will be flashy or obvious. Each needs to be a hinting detail that allows the reader to come to the conclusion by putting pieces together from the mood and reactions and choice of words of your character. The character's thoughts can analyze the environment, but with moody elements in doing so, such as when a friend dies, the protagonist is focused more on worries mixed in with or even in place of sorrow.

Another way to establish the use of foreshadowing is to define its sneaky opposite: Red Herrings.

'Red herring' is a funny name for another tool in writing. It is purposefully foreshadowing to lead readers to a false expectation. Why would anyone ever want to do that to their readers? Well, its obviously because writers have a sick sense of humor. That and it is a genius way to setup plot twists.

If foreshadowing is dropping subtle clues to something very important inevitably happening, red herrings are distractions that perhaps help keep us off of what is really going on while our subconscious mind holds onto the clues for future reference. I must admit that my favorite part of reading is when I have an idea of what is going to happen at the end, what the problem is and how it will be solved, only to be hit by the big reveal that pulls that foundation out from under my feet and amazes me with an equally, if not more, rational answer.

It is one of the only times I am elated when I find out I was completely wrong. In fact, if I was right in my guesses, and I discovered I was right, I would not view the book as having a powerful story. It would feel lacking to me in the enjoyment and 'worth the read' factor.

My very favorite books are those in which I can see the end coming, I know who the real villain is, then clues make me question that and realize I was wrong, then, once I change my guesswork and am sure I now have it all figured out with a smug judgement forming that the book isn't as good as I hoped, only to find that my original guess was correct, my new guess is wrong, and the actual answer is a lot more complex than than I first thought.

That is my 'wow' factor.

If you are familiar with the concept of a paradigm shift, I believe this is a very important part of foreshadowing. The writer must conceal and reveal true and false details through the story so that the reader's perception on the story's world changes, creating new 'Aha!' moments over and over again. These are what make stories so fun!

A warning: If your actual answer, the big reveal behind the story, is not reasonable, it loses all of its kick. By 'reasonable', I don't necessarily mean possible in a real world. More accurately, I mean explainable. There have been enough tiny clues through the whole story indicating that the truth has a place in your story's reality. This is what non-'red herring' foreshadowing is for. All of the clues will come rushing back and we will say "Argh! How did I not see this coming? Its obvious!" Such interjections will immediately be followed by others like "That was so cool!" and "The writer is a literary genius!"

I don't know that I can really create an example today in a short segment of proper foreshadowing, as proper foreshadowing involves lots of clues over time. Instead I will suggest that you may find it very difficult to foreshadow if you don't know what you are foreshadowing. I would say it's impossible to foreshadow well without planning out the major plot points.

The solutions? Outline your plot, then include clues and misdirection as you write, or write your story, then go back later and add in subtle clues at appropriate parts.

Through foreshadowing and applying red herrings, you will be able to turn your adventure into an engaging guessing game that readers will love to try and fail to figure out.

On a side note, this article has completed my fourth week of blogging on the Practice Raft! Woo hoo! Hopefully this is a bit of foreshadowing of things to come and not just a red herring, but I'll leave that up to you to find out. ;)

Time to Outline

Now to introduce Makos to his savior. How should I handle this? As a writer, I need to consider his challenge that I want him to overcome. I've used Deus Ex Machina to save him, but it is for a specific purpose of introducing a new character while creating conflict and demonstrating the character's personality and powers to an extent.

Deus Ex Machina is a term and technique which involves having something new save the day when your characters are unable. It can be a cheap, lazy way to write your characters out of a tight spot, unless you have a specific thing in mind that will be achieved by doing so.

I want to involve someone who can help introduce Makos to the new world of magic. He needs a guide.

He also needs to learn to trust someone his age. Its one of his weaknesses. Perhaps I should have shown more examples of his distrust of his peers while leading up to this point, and I intend to do so in my second draft of the story. I can still show his struggle in this meeting, however.

Today I am going to try to outline the scene. I have been discovery writing so far with minimal planning. The two methods of story creation both have their benefits and an author who can employ techniques from both will have a larger range of tools in their craft. I will write an article on this later, though, so for now: outlining.

Key point: Makos meets Larca.
-She is also nine years old. She was raised in the magical realms.

Key point: Makos distrusts her.

Key point: Makos has no alternative but to learn to trust her, for now.

How am I going to work out the interaction from one step to another with the most conflict without straining the relationship?

Solution: Larca can answer Makos' questions.

Solution: Larca knows how to get back to town.

Solution: Larca can provide further protection.

I will paint in some distrust and embarrassment to add conflict. Larca won't care so much, for now, and reply to his judgements with reasoning. Makos will relent.

Now to use my discovery writing techniques and fill in the blanks:

Paint the scene again.

He looked around cautiously. 'Whoever killed the monsters is probably still out there, somewhere.' He thought. 'If I'm not careful, I might be next.'

He feet made little noise on the dry pine needles. After circling the clearing where the moster tree had fallen without hearing anything besides the wind blowing through the forest, Makos stood straighter and walked out to inspect the burnt tree.

It was covered in soot and almost all of the pine needles were gone. The ground all around it, leading up to the trees nearby, was charred. He noticed how odd it was that none of the surrounding trees had been damaged by the fire besides a little bit of singeing of the ends of needles closest to where the fires had sprung up.

Key point: Makos meets Larca.
-She is also nine years old. She was raised in the magical realms.

Makos moved back to inspect the skeleton of the burned tree. He was nervous what he would find, but wanted a better look at the monsters who had controlled the large pine.

"It's dead."

The voice made Makos jump a foot into the air. He landed clutching his chest and breathing wildly. He spun around and saw a girl standing a couple yards away. She was about his height, had long golden hair that was tied back into a single, thick braid, and her skin was very light, more than he had ever seen on a person. She wore pants and a jacket that looked like it was made out of some sort of leaf-patterned leather, both brown and green. The colors were smoothed into and out of each other throughout the pieces of clothing. Her shirt was a pastel yellow, embroidered around the neck in violet, orange and red thread patterns that made Makos think about stars amidst falling leaves.

He realized he hadn't said anything once he noticed her smiling at him. "Who are you?" He asked.

"I'm Larca." She said.

He frowned. That was a strange name.

"Well?" She said.

"Well what?" He asked.

"What's your name?" She eyed him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, right." Makos replied. "I'm Makos." Something occurred to him. This girl had burned the monsters. He took a step back. "You killed them."

"Yes." She agreed. She turned to look at the remains of the tree and her eyes grew sad. "I didn't want to burn the tree, but they weren't going to leave it."

Continued tomorrow...