As I mentioned in a previous post that announced the Prologue, I’ve started working on publishing my book, Tildy Silverleaf and the Starfall Omen. As I release chapters, I plan to write an accompanying post that provides a behind-the-scenes look at the work. To skip right to reading the new chapter, click here: Chapter One – Spring in Dappledown.
I started my writing with Chapter One, not the Prologue, because getting a feel for my protagonist and her home were crucial to understanding whether I had a story worth pursuing. I needed to establish my unnamed hero, her home, and the witch she reluctantly called “mother”. The ideas flowed effortlessly from thought to word, and Tildy, as she would became known, nearly flew from the page into life.
A few weeks ago, I started publishing my book on this site. My intent was to finally, actively, trulywork toward publishing it in full digital and physical formats, instead of cowing to those fears that always tell you: It’s not good enough. It’ll never be good enough. There’s a point where the author has to listen to voices that aren’t internal. When Trusted Readers regularly provide positive feedback and encouragement, that should carry more weight.
It does carry more weight.
This post isn’t simply an announcement, though you can start reading this chapter here: Prologue: The Children’s Gifts. Consider it a behind-the-scenes look at how a chapter and book come to life. I might not have this context for every chapter I release, but we’ll see. It’s very easy for a writer to procrastinate when fun new post ideas come to mind.
Prologues have been integral to fantasy books for decades. Thoughts on this are cyclical: from “must-have” to “cliche” to “must-have” and around again. IMO, if your writing is chasing what’s fashionable, you’re doing your story a disservice. You’re also not being honest with your Readers, which to me, is the more egregious matter.
Early on, I knew I wanted a prologue for each of my books, and they would all have a corresponding epilogue, as well. This was part of a larger decision: each book is told from the hero’s point of view. You know what they’re thinking, you see the world through their biases, you see how they grow based on their reactions to stress and other factors. Which meant I had a problem for the antagonists of the series. How do I help the Reader understand the machinations of their schemes?
I didn’t want to keep any of that hidden from Readers. In Lord of the Rings, you get a limited sense of Sauron’s plans. The Harry Potter series offers a little more visibility to Voldemort through a prologue or monologue. I wanted more for my Readers.
And so, the bookends of the story are devoted to the primary antagonists of the series: the dark god Delosh and Its thrall, the Mellifluent, the last survivor of a genocide committed by its master. This is where I communicate their motivations and plans, but also how the actions of our heroes affect those plans.
When I wrote the prologue, I took inspiration from the cinematic opening to the Fellowship of the Ring and the writing of Tolkien himself. It was formal and grand; it had depth and history; and it had necessary exposition to set up the entire series, not just the first book. It was heavy.
It was too much. And Trusted Readers were right to call me on it.
OK, I’m going to be completely straight with you. I forgotten I’d been working on this series. It happens. Best laid plans and life gets in the way and all that. LOL
Recently, the previous posts (Post 1, Post 2) have seen an increase in traffic, so I thought I’d share a few other stories. Before I do, let me restate their purpose. For a gaming and whiskey weekend, I’d 3D printed characters for my friends to paint. To serve as inspiration for their characters, I wrote some quick backstories that they could mix n match as they desired. More info can be found here: Prologue: Stories for Whiskey Weekend.
Now, let’s meet Molli and Noe (painting by Whiskey Weekend guys).
Molli McGillman sighed. She stopped her nomad’s journey and studied the young person’s face. Another death. Perhaps, this is the one I can prevent.
One year ago, Molli had taken a strange path through the woods and fallen into a time paradox. Of course, she wouldn’t have put it into those words, and she was barely aware anything had happened. The next day, she came upon a drowned man on the riverbank. Making her way upstream, she heard cries ahead. There struggling in the water, though she told herself it was a different person, was the man whose body she’d seen. A few hours later, she saw him a third time as he crossed the river on slippery rocks.
This is the second in a series of posts I’m sharing about quick little backstories I wrote for a recent retreat. We were doing a painting session and I’d wanted to help my friends bring their characters to life with some brief prompts. To get them to start telling the story, if you will.
It was satisfying to watch them read through these vignettes, sometimes laughing or reading portions aloud. I heard a lot of positive feedback on the names, which was gratifying because I’d hoped to present names that were unusual, but not too awkward. In this post, I’ll share a few stories for which the characters’ names garnered the most attention.
Delish Monté slowly blinked her eyes. Another twelve hours had passed.She didn’t move, preferring her trusted routine of letting her eyes adjust.
Delish frowned. She shouldn’t have been able to see this well. The closet was in an interior room with no windows. By the usual math, it was now midnight, so it should be pitch black.
Delish stood, stretching her limbs and noting that the louvered doors of the closet were intact, but no light filtered through. She looked up to see a ceiling crisscrossed with cracks through which the illumination came. Something had happened.
Her nostrils registered a strong odor of smoke and burning substances. Someone had tried to burn her safehouse down while she was incapacitated. Their intel was good, but not good enough to know she couldn’t be harmed for the twelve hour she waited in suspended animation. The closet doors fell away as she pushed on them, landing in ash and the muck created by water from firehoses. She knew she should worry that the Collective had finally caught up to her, but this was actually a reprieve. No one would be chasing a dead woman. Eleven hours and fifty-five minutes to find a new hiding place.
Delish Monté is my favorite name of the characters I created. There’s a fun rhythm to it and it’s somewhat provocative in a couple ways that could influence the story you start to tell yourself when you hear it. Similarly, the next character, Jonny Gunsel, is evocative for fans of gangster noir (gunsel: a criminal carrying a gun; I assumed it was short for “gunslinger”, but the word has a Yiddish origin instead). It’s also occuponomous, if you believe in that sort of thing.
In my last post, I described this amazing retreat that I attend every year. It’s probably 75% gaming, 25% whiskey, and 100% fun.
I promised to share the short backstories I’d written as part of the swag I was giving everyone. But before I get to that, let me describe the writing challenge I gave myself.
I had limited time to prepare, once I’d decided on my plan. I needed to print at least a dozen miniatures, then clip, clean, cure, and prime them all. I did the same with another dozen bases or so (I had some failed prints, I mean, some were battle damaged! Waaagh!) I also printed labels for each story card and for the bottom of each base so you’d remember the name of your character and the event where you got it.
And then I needed a dozen backstories of about 200 words each, which after printing, I’d affix a label and laminate. Buuuuut, because I’m a writer who needs to challenge himself, I ended up with sixteen. It wasn’t that much of a hardship because I had more than twenty ideas that I thought would be fun. So let me get to the challenge.
Every year for the last four, I’ve attended a tabletop gaming and whiskey retreat that we call Whiskey Weekend. I wouldn’t be exaggerating much if I said we played games from sunrise to midnight.The titular game of the weekend is a double-blind tourney where we pit our whiskeys against each other.
Entries in the blind whiskey tournament, placed from 12-1.
It’s an unbelievably fun time filled with camaraderie, laughter, self-deprecation, and good conversations about gaming of all forms. The event is in its 16th year, having started as a Dungeons & Dragons getaway for a few friends. Over time, the event has morphed into the amazing experience it is today. We have a social media following and even have swag sometimes.
This year, I was no longer the rookie, as we were adding two people to the invitation. I figured it was my turn to bring the swag. So, when the event organizer suggested we take some time to paint tabletop minis, my partially formed idea sprung to full life.
My idea was to not only 3D print some minis in resin, I would also give people the option to choose a custom base and a backstory. The writer should use his skills, right?
A selection of tabletop minis and bases.Sampling of the backstories I wrote. Printed, labeled, and laminated.Choose your character, base, and story!
3D Models source: Adaevy Creations (except the tall Viking, which was created via Hero Forge)
Within a few hours, I’d whipped up sixteen 200-word stories. I’m never sure whether I should tell people just how quickly I created each one: I worry that their response will be disbelief or a derisive “well, obviously“. Each one sprung to life relatively easily, which is partially due to their nature. They’re not intended to tell a complete story, but to inspire my friends into considering what comes next. Each one centered around a simple concept, like these:
A curse is causing a village to forget their entire spoken language. The town chronicler is trying to choose the last word he’ll think about before it’s also forgotten.
When he sees his doppelganger, a man with a strong regenerative power wonders, “If I can regrow a part, can a part regrow a body?”
She slipped into a time paradox which causes her to see stages of a tragedy in reverse.
He thinks he randomly turns invisible. Often he’s right, but that also means, sometimes he’s not. He can’t tell the difference.
It was a ridiculously fun writing experience, and not just because the stories came effortlessly. No, it was also freeing, a way to re-engage my creativity, which has been dormant a few months. And, it was a gift to friends that I hoped would make their weekend experience better. It worked.
Over the next week or so, I’ll be sharing these stories in a series of posts. It’s partially a way to showcase a project I’m proud of, but also, like the stories themselves, I’m hoping to inspire you to consider how else you might use your writing skills. So, tell us….what comes next?
I’ve connected with enough writers and other creatives that I know many of us doubt the work we do. It varies from the kind of art we’re creating, the subject, the time we’re devoting to it, or the work we do to promote it. Generally speaking, these are all variations of the question “Is it worth it?”
I suspect that for most of us, if you sat us in a room and grilled us under hot lights, we’d answer “Yes.” Of course we would. But that doesn’t mean doubt isn’t poking its finger into our brains occasionally.
For me, it’s been a rough 18 months, where the doubt was amplified by compounding stresses. Neither are unfamiliar sensations, and while I have mechanisms to cope, it’s been a lot. The writing has taken a backseat. In some cases, it’s gotten out of the car completely.
Recently, the universe seemed to give me a sign. Four of ’em, actually.
The son of an author I loved as a kid emailed. I’d written a post about his mother, posing a philosophical question about taking inspiration from a book and putting it into your own work. He was communicating her blessing. I’m pretty much geeking out about this one.
A friend who owns a bookstore asked when he’d be able to put my book on his shelves.
A colleague stopped me in the hallway and asked for an update on my books.
A friend stopped by my desk and also asked for an update.
This all happened within a week. I suspect my smile grew larger each time as I recognized my good fortune.
I don’t share these examples to brag, though I am proud that my work has elicited responses like this. I share them for those creators second-guessing the work they do. While I love the idea that the universe, or the Muse, sends us signs, I did contribute by putting myself out there. They didn’t happen only because of magic. Sigh. So, let’s take another look at the interactions I described above.
At a recent happy hour for a departing colleague and friend (aka Trusted Reader #3), the subject of my writing came up several times. I’m at the point where I enjoy this more than I once did. Part of it is comfort, part is the practice of refining my synopsis, and part is knowing more about the story and what I’m doing as a writer.
I’ve written about the difficulties I’ve had hereand here.
As stressful or scary as this might feel, it’s an important part of the writing process. Even if you never want a person to read your writing (which I consider a shame – share with us!), it will help you as a writer.
One never knows. A creative project is an emotional roller coaster filled with self-doubt, self-assurance, and second-, triple-, and quadruple-guessing.
Sounds like a Monday.
There are bleak days and dark ones. These are the times when you wonder if your book would better serve as a doorstop than entertainment. I know many writers feel similarly during the course of a project. It could be an external factor, like your day job, piling upon your feelings of self-worth. It could be a matter of life and love. It could be a change in weather. Or it could be that you’ve read that blasted manuscript so many times, the words might as well be in another language.
Unfortunately, those feelings can create powerlessness, creating doubts that are very difficult to overcome. It’s the reason that so many of us have abandoned drafts that we keep promising we’ll return to someday.
We’re often waiting for perfect conditions that never arrive.
When we’re honest with ourselves, truly honest, we recognize that those days are more exception than rule. There are also good days, which are more rule than exception. Even better, we have those moments when it doesn’t feel like work. When things are clicking. When you feel you might – just might – have tapped into something special. And it gives you the power to keep going.
So. I’m writing this for other writers to let them know that sometimes, the universe rewards you and reinforces that you need to keep going. Here are three examples of when this happened to me.
Writing inspiration comes from everywhere. Looking out a window or considering how a person might react to a situation or watching your kids play. In this example, it came from the song “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls.
“You bleed just to know you’re alive.”
When I wondered what might cause a man to literally, not metaphorically, do such a thing, the story erupted from me. It was the writing experience I’d always imagined, though rarely had. And it came from questions that followed one after the other, piling up until I couldn’t type quickly enough.
More than fifteen years later, I still recall the first scene. A man in a cheap apartment staring at himself in a grimy mirror and hating what he saw. He picked up the razor blade, as he had many times before, and cut his wrist. A single droplet of blood fell into a claw-footed bathtub. As he watched, his cut healed and he screamed in helpless rage. He slashed again and again, healing again and again…until he didn’t. He breathed a sigh of relief. Soon, it would finally be over.
While there’s a violence and hopelessness to the scene, I believed the book would be a beautiful take on the unrequited love story: A man who heals others and himself, and the nurse searching for the person performing miracles in the streets. He falls in love, but will never tell her, never end his self-imposed exile, because his body is too scarred, his psyche too damaged. He’s unworthy of redemption. To further quote the song, “I don’t want the world to see me ’cause I don’t think that they’d understand.”
A few months later, I had the draft of a 30,000-word novella.
Fast-forward to sometime in 2006. Goo Goo Dolls were promoting their latest album, Let Love In. I worked in the Best Buy Music department, and we were often a stop for such junkets. Artists would talk about the album, maybe spin some tracks or perform, and then we’d often get a chance for handshakes and pix. It was the coolest job perk I ever had.
It’s key to understand that “meet and greet” is a brief encounter. Obviously, no one’s making friends, but it is a chance to say a few kinds words or ask a question before quickly moving on. Sometimes, it’s idle chitchat; other times, you get to thank someone for a meaningful impact they had on your life.
The Lost Royals 