shadesofmauve | Entries tagged with calenthe

I just noticed one of my (yes, many, I'm sure) character flaws. When I'm creating characters, I don't create *enough*. I've heard that adding too many characters at once is a common writing problem, but I end up with only two alone for long periods of time.

Example: before my ~~hiatus~~ total abandonment* of Butch & Spike, I'd realized that I had to add more characters, because I had two main characters (three if you count the horse) and only one of them could talk. This made dialogue and plotting a bit difficult. I actually have scripted out the next 20 or so strips, where I start remedying this problem, but who knows when they'll see the drawing table.

Recently I was possessed of the odd writing demon and worked a bit on Marik & Vaer's story, which falls prey to the same problem -- two people, on the run, ho hum, not nearly enough to mix it up. Incidental others whom you don't connect with. Last night I realized that the first repair to this was to have Leif, Marik's body-guard/foster-brother/best-friend/former-lover, run off with them. Hooray, extra interpersonal interaction, more dialogue opportunities!

But... Leif has no tongue.

What is my obsession with characters who can't talk?

Granted, Leif is a fairly fleshed out character, a character whom I really like, and he's fairly eloquent with his shrugs. There's a lot of unexplored intensity there, in fact, and having him along will give me more chance to explore it. For a wild moment last night, I wondered whether I should be telling the story from Leif's point of view -- hell, I've already changed PoV characters once, I could do it again! But for now, I think not.

I'm did start writing his back story from his view, while I was at work, though I might have lost what little I did. Hopefully it shows up in draft e-mail, because I really like Leif, and he deserves some story.

*It's not theoretically abandoned, it just looks that way for all practical purposes.

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you 5 questions.
3. Update your LJ with the answers to the questions.
4. Include this offer to interview someone else in the post.
5. When others comment, asking to be interviewed, ask them 5 questions.

Questions from

padparadscha

1. Who is your favorite comedian?
I like a lot pretty much equally, but I give bonus love to anyone who, er, comedifies to music (Tom Lehrer, Flanders & Swan, Roy Zimmerman, Mark Graham (No YouTube vids of him performing, but here's someone doing I Can See Your Aura with random giggling from the person taping), and of course my dear friends Zeke Hoskin and Rob Lopresti.

Keen observers* will note that my love of comedy/commentary songs heavily plays into my goal of knowing a song about everything. If anyone is interested in an even longer list of musicians and groups, I'd be happy to supply it (as well as take suggestions!).

2. What goes on top of your pizza?
In the ultimate admission of un-American-ity, I don't much like pizza. But when I do eat it, my absolute favorite is from a place in Oly called Vic's, where each slice includes a ton of veggies and several whole roasted garlic cloves. Mmmmmm, garlic!

3. Can you remember appointments, or do you have to remind yourself? If so, how DO you remind yourself?
I'd usually say that I remember appointments without difficulty, but Wednesday I totally forgo about a meeting until my boss showed up to tell me we were five minutes late for a meeting in a different building. So I suppose I should say that I normally remember appointments, and when I don't I require a personal reminder from the guy who signs my timesheets.

4. What got you interested in World-building?
That's tough, because it's in the oh-so-distant past. I started with reading a ton of fantasy and wanting to write my own stories, especially stories that weren't quite so heavy on symbolism and prophecy, because black-and-white morality and doing things Because They Are Written always bugged the hell out of me. Then I ran into

bluwyngz, who did the same kind of thing and was working on fashion design for various cultures in her world, and it sort of solidified into World Building: World History Class Avoidance Edition. Since then it's kept up partly because it adds direction to anything I'm currently interested in - when I studied linguistics, I thought of how to apply it to my world. Geography, ditto. Random bits about pre-longitude navigation? Also useful! World building allows you to take *any* study into the "synthesis" stage of learning, which helps keep me involved in potentially dry subjects.

Downside: I refused to take a geology class in college because I was terrified of being trapped by the impossible plate tectonics of Calenthe and never being able to think about conculture again.

5. Tell me about the coolest project you're working on right now.
I'm actually in an odd lull, since I just got back from a big trip. I finished the Ursula Le Guin illo that was the Coolest Work Project Ever, and Sheep in Space have slowed down a bit. I have felt a sudden urge to work on world-building, specifically architectural sketches and maps, so that's what I'm most excited about now.

*Anyone who hangs around me more than an hour or two

Dad and I built a desk top this weekend, and I installed it in my dining room tonight, where the secretary was. After two years I have all my computer stuff in the SAME place! For the first time EVAR I have a printer hooked up so that I don't have to lug the laptop somewhere else to print. The fact that it is a sexy sexy Epson R1800 printer is just icing on the cake.

I haven't managed to find homes for everything that lived in the secretary yet, or find a home for the secretary, for that matter. For typing I really ought to invest in an adjustable height chair (the desk sits on top of a filing cabinet and is an inch or so two high for comfort). At the moment I'm getting a slight high from the varnish fumes. Still, I count the evening a success!

How am I celebrating? By generating and printing off hundreds of words from LangMaker, hopefully following the patterns already set out for the Dru Edin language. I have such a small set vocabulary so far that it's hard to notice patterns, but I can tell that some things don't feel right. I discussed the language and my world creation in general with Erik on Sunday, and had to explain that while 9/10s of my process was logical, analytical, quasi-scientific puzzle solving, the remaining 1/10 is gut feel. Should you run up against a place determined by gut feel, you'll find that despite being a small fraction that is ill represented, Gut Feel has more sway than everything else. That's right - it's a super delegate.

So, back to exploring new areas of vocabulary. What is the strict rather than relationship possessive? How does one totally negate an adjective quality? For heaven's sake, what do verbs look like?

We won't even touch on why the ONE language I've started truly creating for Calenthe is of a people whom I've set no stories around, and uses neither of the two conalphs already made. Go figure...

Current Mood: happy
Current Location: At my new desk!

Um... I think some of my characters have been getting it on behind my back.

I mean, that's okay and all, they're grown-ups and they can do whatever they want as long as there's consent and they leave the dog out of it. It's just kind of a suprise.

Current Mood: bemused
Current Location: tumwater, washington
Current Music: Body Language - Queen. Oh dear.

My guard was down. I was in the shower after a stressful day and a good music session. I was mostly thinking about bed, and I'd had two mugs of kahlua-and-coffee at the pub. The first inspiration sensed this weakness, sidled out of a dark alley, and started panhandleing.

"Yo, mate -- why haven't you done anything with that Hamlin story/art concept? That was some good shit."

"The antagonists weren't defined. Why would any society turn away from making art and music?"

"Well, it's the critics. Obviously."

This dirty-future idea and I got down to some serious art-world debate, and thus engaged with imagery and meaning for art about the Children of Hamlin, a concept totally unrelated to my world-building (which has hit some slow spots), I was unprepared for the one-two punch WITH A GIANT BRICK that was the 2nd inspiration, coming at me from behind.

Lying dazed on the floor of the bathtub*, robbed of all my cash (which I take with me to the shower -- don't you?), I was left with only the knowledge of how the World-Breaking and Waking were brought to pass, those huge, pivotal story-points of Calenthe that haven't had a good explanation for some ten years.

And I didn't want to write it, because it's terrible. It's dark, and it's probably overly symbolic, and it tends towards the kind of inevitability that I don't like to give in to, and my dragons die. And they won't come back. I promised. But those dragons saw me through a lot of tough times, and I'm not sure about this.

Still, when an idea hits that fast, that hard, that completely, and bothers me that much, it must be powerful, right? Damn thing left a metaphorical knot on my head the size of a goose-egg. And stole my credit card. The hamlin-bum made off with my keys. I've been tag-teamed by inspiration.

That kahlua must be good stuff.

*Some hyperbole here.

Current Mood: productive

For the last few weeks I've been able to feel the nagging, insiduous depression-monster every-other day or so. I've been fending it off, and it's pretty obvious - dude, that's chemistry thinking - and if it's obvious, it's not bad.

But it's grey, I gave the car a flat because I'm stupid, there are no cuddles, I was offered the schedule I wan't and can't afford to take it, and Marik and Vaer are having a fight in my head. About his (multiple?) bastard children. How come the love story in my head usually skips the snoogling and goes right to drama? (without going right to plot, which makes actually writing it more difficult).

Actually, observing the whole mars/venus* thing is really pretty entertaining, mostly because I totally know where both sides are coming from, and it's like watching ships pass in the fog. At high speed. Repeatedly. And one of them is a zippy zodiac raft crewed by a drunk monkey.

I stayed awake for hours again last night
searching for a reason to keep up the fight
I've made choices that I don't regret but
I've got problems I don't get

Let's wait one more day for the conversation
One more day to make it right
Let's get away from the confrontation
One more day just buying time

*Not just sexist stereotypes - there's a really big class discrepency and some culture shock going on too (see, I'd never abandon my belief that both genders are capable of being perfectly reasonable**).

**This doesn't mean that any given individual of either gender is capable of being reasonable, though.

Current Mood: morose
Current Music: Buying Time - GBS

I picked up The Sharing Knife: Beguilment, by Lois McMaster Bujold, at Orca yesterday. The plot is definitely secondary to the love story, and it's not up there with, say, Shards of Honor, but it's a very enjoyable read. The characters aren't quite as quirky as her best, and the girl main character is a little naive for my taste, but she does familial relationships well.

The male main character worked just fine for me - tall, dark, dark past, wry wit, ferocious evil-baddy killer, etc. - until they got to the patroller dance and it is revealed that he plays the tamborine. Not just once, but all night. And has for years. We're talking a serious amateur tamborine player. My respect for his uber-fantasy-manliness just plumetted through the floor. I mean, come on, I've seen a guy who could take up an accordion (and set it down again) without loosing his alure, but that was a very special case, and I really don't think it's possible with a tamborine. I can suspend my disbelief for telempathy, magical knives, people made of mud and rabbits, and evil menaces that suck the life force out of the surrounding area, but the tambourine really wrenched me out of the story for awhile. On the upside, the guy has one hand, and attaches his instrument to the other, which gives us the line "He unscrewed his tambourine," which is at least a little amusing.

Marik & Vaer's story is more plot focused than Sharing Knife, which makes me feel a bit better about it. I think might have to work Elyvaer's PoV back in, and I still have to figure out what the heck they're doing, but it progresses. 4300 words now, including, in Marik's mental monologue: so, I drank and wenched my youth away. What do you do for fun?

Current Mood: productive
Current Music: Stereo's broked!

The hanger queen is the non-functioning airplane one keeps around to scavange parts from.

Since switching from Elyvaer's viewpoint to Marik's, things have really clicked. The story works much better as a story, and I seem able to keep Marik's internal character more consistant. Of course, as must happen, there were some little bits of decent writing in with all the crap that was written the other way, in particular an amusing little bit of Elyvaer's internal monologue, which will have to go.

I decided early on not to go for the slow-growing-affection-because-of-adversity thing, or the hate-each-other-except-when-saving-mutual-lives. Elyvaer harbored a crush from day one, end of story. Anyhoo, I left in the first two paras for context, but the internal monologue bit at the end is what I found amusing. Other context...Trevon's the mage, one of many characters who has been cold-heartedly dumped from my current version.
---
( Story segment )

Current Mood: okay

I've been writing like mad. It's not good writing, but then, only the most elite of the mad write worth a damn. I was considering posting some of the writing, for ~~brutalization~~ review by my peers, but I couldn't face the embarassed morning after.

So, I've been writing that damned love story. Hell, say it, it's trying to be a romance novel, the very thought of which makes me want to take long, scalding showers until I can finally feel clean again (NOTE: Not long cold showers. Not long warm showers, suds sliding down satiny skin and tracing the gentle curves of exposed flesh. LONG COOTIE-FREE SCALDING SHOWERS. WITH DISINFECTANT.)

Ahem. I digress.

I mentioned in a recent post that the larger quest plot couldn't carry it's own weight and fell off the end of the story. The larger plot involved dragons, centrally. When I dropped the dragons out of the story I started musing about dropping them out of the world (a fantasy world without dragons? Say it ain't so!). I could always keep them around in the form of historical legends - real creatures now extinct. Which brings me to this:

I promise that if I decide to have dragons in Calenthe as extinct and/or legendary beings, I will NOT have them revived in the course of the stories. An underprivledged-but-plucky orphan will NOT find and hatch the last dragon egg. Royalty-in-distress will NOT find their military prayers answered by wings from above. Dragons will NOT once more roam the earth and sky after showers of meteors herald the end-times/time-of-plenty in accordance with the prophecy.

If they're alive'n'kickin, all well and good. But the reappearance thing has been done to death.

Any questions?

I'm tagging this with "I promise...", and I'm going to go back and mark similar such dangerous statements in my LJ, so you guys can find all the times I say "Shoot me if I ever start..." and do so.

Last and certainly least, read this Onion article. I rescind my admission of guilt. I can't be writing a romance novel, because I can't use the words "turgid*" or "nubile" with a straight face.

Oh, also 'cause it has a plot.

*The word "turgid" always makes me think of potatoes. I could explain, but you'd probably rather I not.

Current Mood: silly
Current Music: Puff the Magic Dragon

It's lunch, but while I just stopped working on a listing of all the youth programs at the Chehalis and Centralia libraries, my head has been all about fantasy epics and authoring all morning.

I'm inclined to say that this is required reading for

madalchemist,

westrider, and

fenmere, because they're good sounding boards and I throw things at them mercilessly to see what bounces off. But Derryck is the only one I'm sure I could take in a fight*, so for everyone else it's just normal lj-cut blather.

Brought to you in part by the three-hundred words or so of prose that NEEDED TO BE WRITTEN after I went to bed last night, which meant crawling out of the coziness and searching for pencils (which artists never ever have to hand). TWICE.

( Cut for long-windedness and unnessecary introspection )

*I'm afraid of hurting Fenmere, because it might make his fuzzy-cuddly stuffings fall out.

Current Mood: thoughtful
Current Location: Tumwater, WA