Reblog- Hazel West's Character Purgatory: Book Sale, Sneak Peek!

Book Sale!: So, the other day when I posted my sneak peek of The New Emperor's Concerto, I mentioned I was going to do a book sale to help raise money to hire a cover artist. I thought this would be a fun way to do so since I recently unhauled a lot of books that are in really good condition (some signed special editions I got in subscription boxes) and books are always great for Christmas gifts :)

The New Emperor's Concerto Sneak Peek!: So, if you've been following me on social media you might have seen me tease a bit about this book, but now that NaNo is over, I am officially starting promotion on it as I'm hoping for a February release.

Know the Novel: Renewal of Spirit

Check out the other entries here!

Alright, we're doing this.

Because I need to up my word count. XD

THE QUESTIONS

1. How’s the writing going overall?

Better than I expected. Not as well as I would like (I had 2 days of writing zilch), but better than expected. 

2. What’s been the most fun aspect about writing this novel so far?

Editing/making my scenes readable. The initial writing is torture, essentially vomiting words out so that Karen (who is currently level 28) doesn't die. But, if I didn't have Not-A-Block to motivate me this time around, I would probably still be tweaking plot/structure things rather than getting any actual writing done.

3. What do you think of your characters at this point? Who’s your favorite to write about?

They've all come a long ways from draft 1, for certes.
Notah's POV scenes are fun, because I get to channel my inner grump. Plus, I enjoy having my little brother be a part of the process (he's gotten into grandiloquent words lately, and quite frankly he can recall words/definitions off the top of his head faster than I do.)

4. Has your novel surprised you in any way?

Mmm...kind of? There have been a few realizations ("oh she's not really like that, she's more like she was in this earlier draft"), but no big surprises. *hastily adds* SO FAR. I see y'all convening over there. Git! Back to your scenes!

5. Have you come across any problem areas?

Corinna. For whatever reason, her motives and theme have been hard to nail down.
I thought I had all of her stuff nailed down to the bone. Then I talked with a writing mentor, who asked, "So what does she want? Like, really want? Outside of the plot?"
I had no answer, I'm ashamed to say.
Now I do (autonomy), but it still needs some tweaking before it's solid enough to guide her.

6. What’s been your biggest victory with writing this novel at this point?

To get colloquial: I ain't counting my chicks/dragons before they hatch. The fact that I'm doing actual writing is enough of a victory for me right now.

7. If you were transported into your novel and became any one of the characters, which one do you think you’d be? Would you take any different actions than they have?

Probably...uh, Notah, to be honest. :P
Nope! I'd totally be the selfish, story-obsessed hermit that he is. Because I would be him, and I wouldn't be me in his body. If I were me in his body, on the other hand, yes, I most certainly would make different choices. Because I would be me, and would have less fear of bodily harm because of all of his abilities. Getting out and doing crazy things would also be easier since I would be wearing someone else's face. Plus, I would be operating under the most likely misguided notion that even if I die, I would be fine, because I still have my own body to return to. Sorry, Notah.

8. Give us the first sentence or paragraph then 2 (or 3!) more favorite snippets!

I've shared the entire opening already, so instead here's the beginning to some backstory/possible prequel. Or something in the second chapter, depending on whether or not I rearrange it; I have tremendous trouble in getting stories from start to finish without altering something in the structure.
----
From her vantage point on the thatch roof, Corinna looked at the town that twined through the striated mountain slopes. Men, women, and children wandered among the mostly uniform houses—daub, thatch, some with wooden beams. The houses went down to the base of the valley.

The walls that bordered each section of the town, tall though they were, wouldn’t last long against the beasts. Sabotaged from within, the notes that pulled solid stone from the earth had been mixed with notes of clay and sand by those within the pay of the Witch Aranka. These walls would be easy for the elephants to break down. Even easier for the bandersnatches to break through, to tear up the mountain in their ascent to Music Hall at the peak.
----
I don't know why I like this description so much. Maybe it's because it's contrasted by the stone behind it (slate grays/blacks)?
----
Grass sodden with dew despite the noon heat bent beneath her steps. Honeysuckle, lavender, mandrake, and Lady’s Mantle bent closer towards the path she hadn’t even realized she’d been following. The air above her shimmered.
----
I just like the vibe of this paragraph. 
----

“If you say so.” He turned to see how the finches were doing. Two of them were tangled in a messy braid. The other three had gone off further into the room, chirping in the dark. Trying not to laugh, he stood and began untangling the two from his hair. “You’re obviously no help here, little devils, so go find me someone who believes that riches will fill the tombs of their hearts, want a spouse that was never meant to be theirs, or…” He paused. “…or a plant from a Witch’s garden.”

Fingering his hair, he watched the finches flit away. His hair shimmered. Voices that belonged to faces he’d never seen echoed in his head.

9. Share an interesting tidbit about the writing process so far! (For example: Have you made any hilarious typos? Derailed from your outline? Killed off a character? Changed projects entirely? Anything you want to share!)

Uh, for one or three days I procrastinated and drew up a world map. It's a small world, with only one continent (so far) a smidgen bigger than Australia. But, it goes through every latitude, so it has everything from desert to jungle.
One thing that surprised me in the making of it: there are no mountains. A volcano or two, plus a small collection of hills, but no mountains. The way I arranged the plates made it so that there's one ginormous canyon that splits the continent nearly in two, and a fault line near the bottom.
I've never written a fantasy setting without mountains before, and will have to alter some description because of this odd discovery.

10. Take us on a tour of what a normal writing day for this novel looks like. Where do you write? What time of day? Alone or with others? Is a lot of coffee (or some other drink) consumed? Do you light candles? Play music? Get distracted by social media (*cough, cough*)? Tell all!

Wake up. Eat. Work. Return home. Pound out as many words as I can (I've found it's easier to write 200-600 words at a time, rather than 1K+ all at once.) Sleep. Repeat.
On my days off, I wrote sporadically throughout the day: while I have my breakfast shake, after lunch, after chores, etc.
When I'm reluctant to write a scene, Fighter's Block helps keep me from being distracted and perusing Pinterest or trying to design an aesthetic/find that *one* bit of scenery that would totally fit this current location.
I have two types of music that I listen to: lyrical, and instrumental. Lyrical is primarily for editing, instrumental is for writing. Check out the Music for the Muse tab above!
Also, apologies for the funky fonts, I'm trying to figure out why Blogger is doing this...

The Language of Worlds: Renewal of Spirit

Click to head to Liv's blog!

I came across this linkup on Nicki Chapelway's blog (check out her post here, it's great), and decided to take part. Though I'd originally been intending to finish this in August, that...well, it's October now, so obviously that didn't happen. XD

The Questions

1. How long have you been writing this story?

Over a year, I believe. It was originally intended as an entry to Kendra Ardnek's Golden Braids Arista Challenge. However, I missed the deadline. Since I was no longer under a time constraint, I decided to expand what was intended to be a short story into a novel/novella. I'm not sure which it'll be yet; it's between 5 and 10K right now. My current goal is novella length, around 30K words.

2. Who’s your favorite character? Why?

Braxton. Because he's a rambunctious side character, and I love rambunctious side characters. Plus, he's a part of this world's equivalent of Aussie culture. Do I need more reasons? XD

3. Which character do you consider the “goodest of the good”?

Corinna, even though she sees herself as a despicable being for using the Taide outside of its appointed time and for serving Aranka. She knows what's right, what's wrong, and does her best to minimize Aranka's damage.

4. Which character is the “baddest of the bad”?

The Witch Aranka. She's manipulative and vitriolic. She also knows that what she's doing is wrong (enslaving others, using the Taide--which is what this world's "magic" is called--for selfish purposes, etc.), but doesn't care. Some part of her does want to be stopped, though, so I'll give her that.

5. If you were to have tea (or coffee!) with one character, which one would you pick? Why?

If I was in the mood for a chat/being chatted at, and didn't mind having to bring along a dictionary, probably Notah. He loves stories/legends/history, doesn't get out much, and would be delighted to have someone to listen to him.

If I wanted quiet, then the Witch Kamille. So long as you don't harangue her, try to kidnap Notah, or comment on the food she likes to eat, she's pretty chill. For a Witch.

6. Describe your storyworld.

At the risk of getting into too much detail, here we go!
For starters, all of its inhabitants are elementals. Even the animals, to some extent, have control of certain elements. If they didn't, they wouldn't be able to survive the Turning, which is the storyworld's rough equivalent of a year.
The races are the Haize (aye-say), the wind elementals; Clann Smàlaidh (smuh-lade or smay-lite), fire elementals; and finally the Miltaides (mil-ti-ah-des), earth elementals. There are also water elementals, but I haven't come up with a race name for them yet, since they don't play an active role in RoS. Plus there's a bit of lore about water and ice elementals that I'm still working out. Also, yes, I find myself misspelling things quite often. XD
But, I think it's worth it.

Each elemental group is split into sub-groups, with each group taking on a different role during the Turning (Breakers, Planters, Incinerators, etc.). With their variety and expansive talents, the Miltaides make up a majority of the population, with the most sub-groups: earth, gems, and plants, each of which can be split down further!
Oh, the races have their own name themes (and by extension, culture), as well. Here are the current combos: Italian/Basque/Native American; Celtic/Danish/Greek/Medieval English; Germanic/Scottish/Australian.

The Turning is an event which all sentient beings partake in--the destruction and remaking of the world. The state of the new world is dependent on the application of the Taide throughout the year. For example, if there were more Witches than usual during that year, the new world is darker, more dangerous, and harder to live in. Witches also are more powerful, and can summon beasts from the depths that normally wouldn't bother those living above-ground. Usually, the Smàlaidh guard these beasts and prevent them from leaving their underground homes, but if a Witch summons them, those beasts are making it past the guards one way or the other.

7. You’ve fallen into your book! Which place would you be happiest at?

The world is completely remade every Turning, so anyplace with pretty forests/lakes/rivers, interesting rock formations, and Smàlaidh (their application of the Taide is unmatched cooking skills). Though, the Smàlaidh tend to live underground/in the center of the earth, since they remain in their elemental forms unless they take a long and grueling journey to the surface, so I probably wouldn't have much luck in finding them above-ground...

8. Which place would you like to avoid at all costs? (Or, explore to know its secrets a little bit better?)

I'd definitely avoid wherever Aranka ends up. She's the most powerful Enslaver (a type of Witch) around, and so the land around wherever she ends up settling is rank with poisoned life (monsters, poisonous/semi sentient plants, vitriolic land a-la Faerie).

9. Share an aesthetic!

Urgh...so I couldn't figure out a way to use images from my Pinterest board, and the way this is arranged makes it look like a romance, which it originally was, but now it's not. Everything else I tried to add made it look like a love triangle or a hodgepodge of who-knows-what.
You'll have to be satisfied with this. :P
The top half is Notah and his current environment, the bottom Corinna and hers.
Edit: I managed to find a couple quotes I pinned that don't appear to be copyrighted, so I added them to the aesthetic in the hopes that it wouldn't be so depressing (because the story isn't that depressing, really.) I don't think it worked. XD

10. Share a snippet!


The six Numerals bathed everything in a crisp orange light that cut through most shadows. Every so often, beneath vibrant green canopies or among crimson canyons, she passed travelers. They treated her much as the villages did—they either ignored her, or chased her off.
Her tired steps led her to a dull brown canyon, the colors subdued despite the energetic Season’s light. The shale-like walls contrasted with the solid grey of the boulders that scattered the canyon floor.
Corinna sucked in a breath. The sound echoed and rebounded, amplified tenfold. Another sound, a voice not her own, came back with it. She dug her fingers into her cheeks to keep herself from making any further sound. Who knew what kind of beasts lurked in this place?
A wheat-red fox dashed out, nearly eliciting a scream from her.
Cautiously, she continued forward. The canyon walls changed appearance: instead of being as jagged as a piece of broken wood, they looked like a piece of cloth, with wrinkles and folds and crevices. One of the crevices seemed to be a window. Corinna glimpsed something the color of the sun within.

She entered the mountain’s shadow and shivered. The song was louder, echoing among the folds of stone. “Hello?”

Renewal of Spirit: Progress Update!

I think I've finally gotten enough brainstorming and worldbuilding done to launch into an honest-to-goodness overhaul of this thing.
So, today I have for you a mock cover that I made to inspire myself a little while ago, the last version of the opening, and the reworked opening.
The previous version of the opening was drastically different. There was a prologue, told in a more omniscient/fairy-tale style POV (which is why it's in italics), and then the opening chapter was from the POV of the male MC.
The reworked opening jumps straight into the story, shows a bit of the worldbuilding that got me excited about this story in the first place, and starts from the POV of the female MC!

Enjoy!

Opening 1:

There once was a Wind Child who coveted nearly everything she set her eyes on. From seed to blossom, if it belonged to another, Loredanna wished it for herself.
Her husband Lando had long since learned that absolutely no one could talk her out of something. So it was when she wished for tea made from the leaves of a Witch’s laburnum tree, and refused to give him any peace, that her husband snuck into the Witch’s garden. Carefully, he pinched off the glimmering ocher flowers and placed them in his pocket.
Three nights in a row he did this. Three nights in a row he brewed tea for his lovely Loredana. On the fourth, he came face to face with the resident Witch—Kamille.
The crooked woman glowered at him with her crooked face. She demanded to know what he was doing.
Knowing he had no excuse for the theft other than his own weakness towards his wife, he dropped to his knees and pleaded for mercy.
The Witch agreed, provided he allow her one thing: to be godmother to his child.
Having no child at the time, he confusedly agreed. In time, his wife had a child. She named him Notah, and bestowed many blessings upon him in the hopes that he would be able to ward off any attempts the Witch made to claim him.
The blessings did little to prevent the Witch from taking him. They did, however, give him some degree of power over the Witch. And so, she was unable to use him as she had originally wished: as a source of power to augment her own magic.
In an effort to weaken his blessings, she forced him to use them constantly. If anything, her efforts seemed to embolden him. He accomplished each task she set to him, from planting magic seeds to slaying monstrous, seven-headed Beasts.
Finally, she decided to send him to the abode of another Witch.
“Bring me a casket from my sister in the Valley of Scions,” she told him.
“I shall fetch the sandapile most festinately,” he jauntily replied. “So festinately shall I fetch it, your cebocephalic head will ache.”
With a flurry of angry notes from her flute, Kamille sent him on his way.

Opening 2:

Staccato drumbeats laced through the darkness. They cut through the groan of settling earth, called forth the beasts that slumbered beneath the surface.
In the midst of the music, Corinna ran. The darkness of the Settling was the best time to escape. When the broken earth reformed and healed, when the Witch Aranka busied herself with renewing her stronghold and corralling the monsters that were attracted to her corrupted Taide.
A hideous moan rumbled through the beat of the drums. The first of the monsters clawed upwards.
Corinna couldn’t see it, but she could feel it; close, not even a body’s length away, with dank breath and claws that scraped against the earth like iron against iron.
She kept running. She had to make it, before—
The music that had called up the monster caught her. The curse twined through her.
Swiping away her tears, she pulled against it. Her bones ached. The further she went, the worse it became: a scar wound down her arm; her leg bent; her arm shriveled.
Unable to continue, she collapsed. The curse pulled her back as surely as a chain about her neck.
From the darkness, Aranka’s fingers curled against her cheek. Her voice flat, she said, “How did you expect to leave without a means to fight me?”
A square box that Corinna had come to know well was pressed against her chest. Her kalimba. Her tuneless kalimba, for her rhythmless fingers.
She had thought that leaving it behind would finally give her the opportunity she needed; that leaving it would give Aranka one less thing to tie her curse to.
Corinna settled into the darkness and awaited the dawn, to see what new horrors Aranka would be harboring for the new world.

Rapunzel Retelling: Renewal of Spirit!

I've reworked my Rapunzel retelling for the Arista Challenge several times. Something just didn't feel right, but I think it's fixed now. Here are the first thousand-ish words! Let me know what you think. :D
Also, the Loki/Thor x Reader (along with all my other misc. projects) is going to be on hold. The deadline for this and my Tales of a Modern Bard entry are rapidly approaching. So these take priority. Here's hoping I can get them both done in time... 😓
---
Loredana tilted her head back, eyeing the laden boughs above her head. very day, since they’d settled in this new land, the laden boughs of the fruit trees taunted her. They seemed to call, Can’t reach us! Just try!
Every day she passed by, the thought of how delicious and juicy the fruit would be played in her mind.
“If it were any closer to the Turning,” she growled to the ripe fruit, “I would shake you from your tree right now.”
Her husband Lando came up the path and toyed with her pale hair. “If it were any closer to Turning, you would be playing the zephyr and not caring for fruit.”
Loredana huffed and pulled away. “I will taste those plums, you’ll see.”
Lando sighed. He wondered what scheme his wife would devise to get what she wanted. “I hope she finds something else,” he muttered to himself. “With my luck, her plan would involve me getting it for her.”
“Oh! My love, look!” Loredana’s feet beat against the ground excitedly, as if she were standing in place. “Will you get this for me?”
Eyebrows drawn in a long-suffering frown, Lando continued up the path and rounded the bend. “What is—” He stopped short, breath taken away by what he saw.
The first thing he noticed was a large, golden tree. Its pale leaves and ocher flowers hung down to the ground on thin, wavering branches. Though there was no wind, the willow fluttered as if being toyed with. The very air around it seemed to sparkle.
The second thing Lando noticed was the fence. It was odd, to find any sort of boundary or border; the only people who did so were the enchanters.
“Darling,” he whispered. He wanted to say, “we should leave,” but he glanced down at her before he did so. A familiar glint was in her light gray eyes. His sentence turned into a stutter, then a sigh. “Why do you want it so badly?”
“I simply must have it!” She clutched at the lapels of his earthen-colored jacket. Her gray-cast face was drawn in longing. “Please.”
Feeling annoyed that the expression was almost the same as the one she’d met him with on their wedding night, Lando frowned. “But…it’s an enchanter’s garden!”
Loredana whirled away in a huff. Her dark red skirt flared out in an enticing spin. She crossed her arms and refused to say another word. She didn’t even say anything when the village gossip—a close friend of hers—tried to engage her in conversation.
The day passed by with the usual village activities; gathering flowers and plants for dyes, tending the wild gardens, working at the tannery. Loredana’s silence hung heavy on Lando, until they turned in to their cottage for the night.
When he was about to fall asleep, she laid her head on his neck. In a pained whisper, she said, “I will simply die if I can’t have it.”
Lando cursed himself for a fool. A sleepy fool, but a fool nonetheless. “Then I will simply have to get it for you,” he replied.

Lando stole along the path, wondering why he’d gotten up before dawn to do this. Weren’t enchanter’s powers stronger at night? Weren’t they more protective of their property?
He shivered and tucked his black undershirt into his loose breeches. “Why didn’t I change?” he asked himself. The memory of his wife’s desperate, nagging pleading played in his mind. “Still…”
The tree looked even more magnificent in the moonlight than it had during the day. Its petals and leaves glowed softly, still swaying. Still glittering as if thousands of stars had come to rest on them.
Holding his breath in fear and anticipation, he clambered over the dark wooden fence. His blond hair fell over his eyes in an untidy mop. Sputtering and trying to catch his breath—he wasn’t a very athletic man—Lando waited a few moments.
There was no alarm. No shouts. No flashes of magic. No yowling of hounds. He was safe.
Quietly, he side-stepped into the soft glow of the willow. With an expert hand, he pinched and twisted off a few blossoms. Carefully, and trying not to be overwhelmed by the wonderful scent, he tucked the blossoms and leaves into a pouch at his side.
That night, he escaped safely. He brewed a tea for his Loredana, hoping it would ease her longing. To his dismay, the next night, she declared that her longing had grown threefold!
He went back to the garden once, twice. The third time, he came face to face with the witch Kamille.
A beautiful outfit with many folds and waves, dyed purple and black, could not make the hunched, one-eyed figure pretty. The witch’s lank gray hair formed a weak curtain over the crooked hazel eye on the left side of her face. Her back was bent nearly double, her head coming to Lando’s stomach.
She glared up at him. “What are you doing with my laburnum?” Her voice matched her face; old, tired, and terribly cranky.
Lando fell to his knees. “Please, forgive me! My wife…” He trailed off, knowing he should have been more firm with her. “Please, forgive me. I have no excuse,” he said softly.
The witch was silent a while. When she spoke, her voice was flat. “I will forgive you your theft, provided you give me something in return.”
“Yes!” Lando kept his head down, awaiting the witch’s demand.
“I will be the godmother of your child.”
Lando glanced up in surprise. “But…we have no children! We were told…well…” He trailed off again.
“You will,” Kamille said with a twisted grin. “You will.”

Know the Novel, Pt. 2: Reality of Devotion

I meant to get to this earlier in the month, but that didn't happen...
Time for another session of Know Your Novel!

1. How’s the writing going?

I’m behind. So very, very far behind.
Most of the words I’ve counted are rebellion projects (I’m including this post towards my word count cuz freaking flying snow gypsies am I behind). I had been planning on doing, like, one rebellion project a week. I’m doing one about every other day. There were some snags in plot/worldbuilding I thought I’d taken care of already. Hahhahaha, nope. But they’re taken care of now, so hopefully I’ll be able to finish the story before the year is over (I’ve given up hope of finishing before the end of November.)

2. What’s been the most fun aspect about writing this novel so far?

As grueling as it’s been, all of it? I love everything about writing in general: story, characters, development. This time is no different.
I love how the MC is acting differently than I thought he would (love-hate relationship, lol.) Michel’s a bit of a know-it-all with a penchant for shoving others around, and I have a really hard time writing characters like that without stereotyping them, but this seems to be something he does only semi-constantly, and only with people he cares about. He’s still annoying at times, but it’s more tolerable than I thought it would be.
I’m still in love with the world, even though I haven’t written anything terribly in-depth about it yet. Alas, I have yet to write a proper chimera encounter. :(

3. Has your novel surprised you in any way?

Yup; it’s way harder to write than I thought it would be. XD
I also came up with an explanation as to a particular, odd world-building snag. The nation that Michel is a part of (the Khorites) has a quirk: they love sleep, and view rising before the sun as a sin. But, they're sailors and pirates. These two things don't go well together. I decided that they're crazy adaptable at sea, but after a certain amount of time on land they're lazy and prefer to lounge rather than exert themselves. This ties in nicely with their sea-serpent chimera (hedammu). So I'm happy.

4. What do you think of your characters at this point? Who’s your favorite to write about?

Kallias’ head is the easiest to get into, so I enjoy writing scenes from his POV. Problem is, I don’t want to write from close POV for this story; I wanted to do distant POV/omniscient. But hey, I need words.
Kallias and Michel's interactions are fun to write, too. They get into all sorts of trouble (most of it their fault).

5. If you were transported into your novel and became any one of the characters, which one do you think you’d be? Would you take any different actions than they have?

Oh, goodness…uh, I like to think that with my authorial knowledge of the characters and the paths they’re taking, I would be Aura, the mentor figure.
Logically, if I myself were the character, then I wouldn’t be myself, and thus wouldn’t take any different actions because I am the character, not myself. If, however, I were myself and not the character...well, if I had no idea what was going on, I would do things way differently than she did, namely face things with a bit less courage than she has. If I had an idea of what was going on...I still wouldn't look forward to it, and would try to run as often as possible because who wants to be kidnapped, sold as a slave, then blamed for everyone else's problems?

6. Give us the first sentence or paragraph and then 2 (or 3!) more favorite snippets!

Here’s the first paragraph from the scene that has the most potential for being the beginning scene:
***
Michelakos finished his inspection of the ship and disembarked. He slapped the hull affectionately. “Ready for another mission,” he sighed. Not that the captain would accept anything fun or challenging. Or profitable.
***
And because they were the most fun to write, some snippets from dare scenes, which may or may not end up making it into the final story.
***
The lily trembled in her hands.
Aura closed the little girl’s unsteady fingers about the thin stem. “Pass in peace,” she whispered to the feverish figure. “I am bound to another, and cannot guide you. May another more experienced than I take you in their arms.”
She pressed her forehead to the girl’s. She held it there. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Each unnaturally hard pulse of the girl’s heart sent a jolt through her forehead. Aura grimaced and put her cold hands to the side of the girl’s head.
Aura opened herself. The grief and anxiety and hope of the parents in the next room washed over her. The uneasy understanding of the girl pressed against her like a rock. “I shall give you what I can,” she said quietly.

Delara put a finger to her chin. “You know, you need to get out in the sun more. You’re as pale as a buraq.”
Kallias looked miffed. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”
“Oh, hush.” Delara batted his shoulder. “Just sit down and let me work on that sallow face of yours.”
“I’m here for the artifacts, not a makeover.”
“Well, why can’t you have both?”
Kallias rolled his eyes. Seeing he would get nowhere with her until he complied, he sat on the stone bench. “Are you going to be using magic?”
“No, silly; that’s not how these things work. Mother would be infinitely prettier if they did.” With swift movements, Delara prepped her makeup kit.
Kallias squirmed. “This isn’t wise.”
“No, no it isn’t; it’s fun.”

Kallias sighed, leaning his head back and bracing himself for a tirade. “Yes?”
“Will you marry me?”
A blob of glowing goop spattered against his forehead. “Argh!” He jerked up, sending Delara falling into the mess. He rubbed his face with his shoulder. To his dismay, the only thing that managed to do was rub the goop into his eyes. “I’m fairly certain I misheard you,” he said, clamping his eyes shut.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring Kallias’ cursing. “Let’s go!”
They ran out. Nothing came out to chase them, but when they got to the last room before the entrance, they couldn’t keep running.
Michel glanced down at his hands, only to find that they were terribly out of focus. He tried to ask Kallias if he was okay, only to find that his words slurred. Kallias didn’t seem to be in much better shape.
Kallias shook his head, then sniffed at his hands. His curses blurred together. “That…wasn’t blood…altar…”
They both went down to their knees. “Then…what…”
“Sed…sed…” With a sigh, Kallias’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he went down.
After calling out to a pillar, “Oh, hello mother,” Michel went down, as well.
***

7. Have you come across any problem areas?

Eh, one or two. Nothing a quick question session couldn’t fix.

8. What’s been your biggest victory with writing this novel at this point?

Honestly? The fact that I’ve written more than 2K words this month. This is the farthest I’ve made it in the three years of participating in Nanowrimo. I tend to have more luck during the Camp sessions, either meeting or exceeding my usual goal of 10K.

9. Be honest, have you killed any characters off yet?

Not directly? I know in a recent scene there’s mention of the death of a character who was giving Michel problems. And then there’s a scene where the deaths of several crew members are mentioned. Then there’s a zigurat scene where Michel and Kallias kill enchanted warriors (but they were technically dead to begin with).

10. Take us on a tour of a what a normal writing day for this particular novel has looked like. Where do you write? What time of day? Alone or with others? Is a lot of coffee (or some other drink) consumed? Do you light candles? Play music? Get distracted by social media (*cough, cough*)? Tell all!

My schedule is very erratic, and revolves around work. Some days I have a night and morning shift back to back, and don’t have much time for anything except quick notes hammered out on my iPod.
Depending on the scene, I’ll play music (check out my music inspiration page above!). Most of the time, I’m okay with the general ambiance of the house.
I usually write alone, though word wars/sprints with my Cabin mates have really helped me get words written this session. Snacking tends to distract me, so I try not to write while I eat (unless I have no other time to write, in which case I eat breakfast/lunch/dinner, whatever meal my sibs aren’t on the computer for). Drinking (coffee, tea, or hot chocolate) is easier for me to do while I write, so sometimes I’ll drink.
Pinterest occasionally distracts me if I try to stop in the middle of a scene and research, or find inspiration pins for my story. Fandom things, fluffy animals, and epic fantasy landscapes dominate my feed as of late, and it’s really hard to just go directly to my research board without looking at a few things… XD

Know the Novel: Reality of Devotion

Check out Christine at Musings of an Elf!

It's almost November!
I only ever got to participate in one of the Beautiful Books linkup, and was saddened that there wouldn't be any more forthcoming. So when I found out about this linkup, I leapt at it!

1. What first sparked the idea for this novel?
I think it might have been this song from Moana.

Don’t get me wrong, it was a great movie, but afterwards I was just so done (and am still slightly irked) with the “follow your heart” message that inundates everything Disney. Seriously, what if what’s in your heart isn’t sugar, spice, and everything nice? What if it’s…not-so-good? Or downright evil?
With that small question, a million little things started to stand out from a variety of sources.

2. Share a blurb!
This is a snippet from a scene that may or may not make it. The story outline has gone through several drafts since I wrote this, but it’s the only readable snippet I have at the moment.
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“You say to help the needy,” Kallias snapped, no doubt reading the rising hostility in Michel’s eyes. “She is more needy than any; she has no choice but to practice the dark arts. All to help us.” Kallias stood between her and Michel.
Michel realized that his hostility had turned to a sour-tasting vehemence; Kallias had seen this before he’d even realized it. Michel held his breath, hoping to calm his racing heart. “She…” He choked on his dry throat. “…is our informant?”
Kallias nodded.
Michel ground out, “This…was not the right time.” Seeing red and feeling the press of the lemon in the folds of his cloak, he left.
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I feel the need to explain that this lemon was very significant a few paragraphs before. It was a bit of fruit from the garden of a woman who had been very dear to Michel. A garden that said informant mostly incinerated. And a woman that said informant disposed of rather nastily. So yeah. There are going to be a handful of conflicts like this.

3. Where does the story take place? What are some of your favorite aspects about the setting?
It takes place in a land that has yet to be named. Naming the people groups, characters, and cities kind of sucked everything out of me. It took me over a week and several drafts to sort out the language groups, mix different origin languages, organize the cultures…
It’s all going to be in English, and the languages in and of themselves probably aren’t going to play an obvious part, but I really wanted to get specific with origin languages and name meanings. Organizing the languages also helped me to narrow down cultural influences.
Oh, the chimera. Definitely. They’re kind of important to the story, and the people in the story don’t realize their significance, so I won’t give away too much. Just know that there are buraq, nian, and hedammu.
Edit: Silly me, I forgot to list the names of the nations. :P
Khorites--based in Grecian/Roman culture, and the Hellenic/Italic languages (the hedammu belong to this nation)
Merdochians--based in Ancient Egyptian/Persian culture, and Indo-Iranian/Armenian languages (buraq belong to this one)
Slavomir/Kresimir--mostly based in Medieval/European culture, and Celtic/Balto-Slavic languages (nian belong to this nation)
I didn't look terribly deep into the validity of these charts, but these are what I used to figure things like how difficult it would be for trade and whatnot to be established.
A sun chart.
A language tree. (The gal who made this chart makes an awesome webcomic, too. Stand Still, Stay Silent. 💖)
I also browsed the glossary at Behind the Name.

4. Tell us about your protagonist.
From my Nano page:
Michelakos Blago [Michel for short] is a man with a sea captain’s mettle and a poet’s heart. He’ll face the world to provide for his loved ones, but lately he’s been feeling as if the world wants him to let go. It's certainly doing its best to tear his estates from him. He’s currently a respected member of the community and a candidate for the Council of Limta—a rigorous event where the city-states’ laws are decided—but after a witch in training ravages the countryside, things change.

5. Who (or what) is the antagonist?
Oh, goodness. Let’s see, the metaphysical antagonists are selfishness, greed, and other such offshoots. The physical antagonist is probably going to end up being Kallias.
Also from my Nano page:
Kallias is shrewd. He's always doing his best to protect his childhood companion, Delara—and asking her to procure valuable items from her mother, the witch Lilith. He wants to undermine the regime that made him a eunuch and drove his mother mad, but that’s hard to do when your only allies are a half-mad woman and a rich sea captain content to meddle only in home affairs. Matters become more complicated when his employer and distant cousin, Michelakos, buys a new slave--a slave who knows Kallias' secrets.

6. What excites you the most about this novel?
The character conflict. *steeples fingers together* *smiles*
Also, oddly enough, Kallias’ development. He’s technically not the protagonist (though he was originally going to be) because he doesn’t have as much to lose as Michel. I’m hoping that he’ll deviate from his original Negative Arc and come out with his heart intact.

7. Is this going to be a series? Standalone? Something else?
I was planning for it to be a standalone. But, who knows.

8. Are you plotting? Pantsing? Plansting?
Plantsing. If I try to pants, I fall on my face after two thousand-ish words. If I try to adhere too rigidly to an outline, everything chokes and dies.
I have the characters more or less figured out, all the major world-building is done, and I know a smattering of important scenes. Let’s hope this is enough to get me through November. :P

9. Name a few things that makes this story unique.
I’m never sure how to answer this kind of question/demand… XD
Um, the chimera and the way they’re linked to the people, I suppose. Also the lack of focus on the “follow your heart” motif. The more I think about it, the more it annoys me…

10. Share a fun “extra” of the story (a song or full playlist, some aesthetics, a collage, a Pinterest board, a map you’ve made, a special theme you’re going to incorporate, ANYTHING you want to share!).
Here’s my Pinterest board. I’m hoping to find some inspiration pics for location, but for the moment it’s mostly quotes and a few character inspirations.

Camp Nanowrimo

I'm participating in Camp Nanowrimo!

I've done it before (love it!), but not while I had a blog. Okay, I had a blog but never got around to posting...

My projects this session:

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Dead in Sleep:The two factions—Human and Imp—have always fought. The Humans, with their magic and knack for invention, have always had the upper hand. But their magic has been growing weaker to the point of vanishing altogether. The Imps with their vampire mounts have gained the upper hand, and it doesn’t help matters that their automaton have begun to turn on them. The Human cities are close to falling. Where has their magic gone?
Fayte Hargreave and her two friends--Eldon Rattlebag and Shania Darknoll--do their best to survive the downfall of their city and gain a lead on what is happening to their magic.
Goal: 3K-ish, counting attempts of prose for a scrapbook version

I'd Kill for a Bath:Pearl does her best to aid her friend, Snow--an overworked secretary of Castle Hematite--in winning the right to be queen for a day. In the process, Pearl tries to sort out her life--a life that her supposed father reveals to be a sham.
Set in Convoluted Chronicles.
Although, now I want to try my hand at literary fiction; so I may be exploring just Pearl's relationship to her uncle and father, and having the fantastic elements of fantasy as background props instead of spotlight items...
In which case a title change is imminent. Probably something along the lines of: You did What?!, Who are you?, or So my Father's a Dragon.

Goal: 5K-ish

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Here are small excerpts from each. The excerpt from Dead in Sleep isn't from the main POV; it's the start of a dare (Writer's Truth or Dare is so much more fun than regular T/D), because I read over my starting scene and...well, there are a few unique qualities in this world that I'm having difficulty showing in character.

Dead in Sleep:

Eldon couldn’t wait to visit the Inner ring of the city—there were so many hoity-toities to have fun with.

“The fact that they manufacture the guns you use to keep Imps out means nothing?”

Eldon glared at Fayte, a female soldier who seemed to be favored by the CO. “The mind meld is over. Why are you loitering in my head?”

Fayte shrugged. She adjusted her goggles so that the eye beams dimmed. “Sorry.”

“Upstart little…” Muttering derogatory comments, Eldon leapt aboard a departing tram. He glanced back at Fayte, flicked his goggles so that the eye-beams flashed. When she looked up, he did his best snarling grin. That’s what makes things interesting, pet.

Guns always made things interesting.

I'd Kill for a Bath:

Pearl took solace in the last few moments spent in her organized office. Notepads stacked on the edge of the desk; sparkling filing cabinets (their contents alphabetized and categorized by urgency); the trash can emptied. She took a picture in her mind, sucked a deep breath, and stepped out.

Luckily for her, her office was adjacent the castle’s lobby, so she didn’t have to wade through several levels of bureaucrats. A poster on the notice pillar outside caught her attention. The laminated, purple and orange and black poster reflected the moonlight garishly.

Contest: Queen for a Day.

The modern equivalent of a coliseum. She sneered in disgust, glad she wouldn’t be participating.

“Oh, Pearl!” A girl with the figure and looks of a vampire queen rushed over, her high heels clicking frantically against the concrete.

“Snow. What is it?”

The distraught secretary babbled incoherently. Frantic gestures, bleeding mascara…

Pearl looked at the poster again, took note of the date, and sighed. “You decided to participate?”

Snow latched onto Pearl’s arm, sobbing. “I’ve been stalked, threatened, work piled on my desk…” She paused, swiped at her face with her elbow. Black eyeliner stained the white sleeves. “They even laced my latte!”

Pearl led Snow to the curb. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to get involved. Especially not after an extended weekend.”

“It’s okay.” Snow sniffed. “It’s not like…like…oh, I just can’t be sarcastic! Pearl, I’m not alright and I need help!”