What I've Been Working On

Hey everyone, I'm not dead yet!  And I'm back. Well, temporarily. See, for the entirety of the last two weeks I've been working on this baby: 

Remember that Dune Crossover project I was brainstorming for in Architectural Design a while back? Well, this is it! All done, finally! And if anyone remembers that far back, I was struggling to come up with a concept that I could represent in a non-literal fashion. (I.e. no giant fishes to represent... fish) So, I finally found a concept I liked, and that was Time. And this is my representation of time.

Now, it's a bit abstract, so it isn't as good a solution as I'd like. In other words, looking at that doesn't necessarily remind you of time unless I told you that was what it was. The first five rings (smaller ones), would actually rotate completely around if this was built for real, and be marked in minutes, hours, days, months and years. So the first part is actually a clock. But as you pass under the clock, and head down to the beach, the rings get farther apart and time stops. Because who wants to be reminded of what time it is while they're on the beach? So that's my explanation, though I'm not sure if it passes muster. Hopefully I get an A. :)

But, hey! It looks good, functions well, and came out nice! In case anyone's interested, I used balsa and basswood for most of the structure, and poplar for the rings (sturdier for cutting with a bandsaw).

So, now that that's done, I get to come back, right? Wrong! And that's a good thing. Why? Because Holy Week starts today, and as a way of preparing my heart and mind for Resurrection Sunday, I am going to cut down on all unnecessary computer time, which, of course, includes blogging. So, I'll be gone till after Easter, when hopefully blogging life will return to normal. Well, as normal as blogging life gets, that is :)

Until then, my friends, fare well!

 Oh, and I'll be answering all those messages on my phone when I come back for real!

Busy...

*Ring, ring, ring*

*beep*

Hey, you've reached Farjag's phone. I'm currently either busy, away, or dead, and am unable to pick up my phone at the current time, but I'll get back to you as soon as I am able, provided I am not dead. Please leave a detailed message if you'd like, unless you're trying to sell me something, in which case you should give as little information as possible. In fact, you can hang up right now. Have a nice day! 

*pause*

If you're still listening, chances are that you're not trying to sell me something, in which case you can leave me a message. Catch you later!

*beep*

Feel free to leave your 'message' in the comments! :)

Beautiful People- March 2.0

Because, apparently, BP is done on the 20th of each month, not the 1st... I get to do two in March! And as it also happens to be the one year anniversary of BP, Miss Georgie and Miss Sky did a special set of questions concerning two characters and their relationship with each other.

So, for this 2.0/20th of March edition of Beautiful People, I give you Redpaw and Crestlen. Wait... this concerns relationship... and Redpaw and Crestlen are not exactly... well... ahem.

So... this will concern their relationship as enemies; and then brothers. And, I think I'll let them speak for themselves this time.

1. Do you believe in anything that most people think is impossible?

Redpaw: I would see the reconciliation of the Featherwen and Fanglen factions and a united Quartorlen once again. Impossible though it seems, I believe it can be done

Crestlen: The existence of little white gnomes who steal your sugar for... I'm not serious. *grin* No... I tend to only believe what I can see, and the uniting of Quartorlen is hardly possible at this time. Nor would I be certain that I would wish Quartorlen united given the chance.

2. Are you strong, or the "damsel/knight in distress" sort?

Redpaw: What sort of question is that?

Crestlen: Who would want to refer to themselves as a "person in distress?" I mean, you're a bounty hunter, and I'm an assassin. I'm fairly certain we do not fall into the latter category.

3. Do you have a special place? (e.g. a corner in your bedroom, under a tree...)

Redpaw: When I was younger, a beastborn living in the Twisted Pines, there was a certain spire of rock I would often climb to look out over the land. Whenever I pass nearby I visit to remind myself of where I came from, and the sacrifice of those who broke the Containment and freed slave and beastborn.

Crestlen: I do not have one particular place, but I often seek solitude up among the clouds, soaring on the updraft, just thinking. Tis strangely peaceful up there, far above the busy world below.

4. What occupation do you have, or plan on having?

Redpaw: You have but to look at our title to learn our occupation. I am Redpaw, Wolf-hunter. I get hired by leaders in the Fanglen faction to capture dangerous men in the Featherwen faction. Men such as Crestlen here, no? *grins*

Crestlen: *chuckling* Aye. And I am Crestlen, Hawk-assassin. Self-explanatory, really. I go kill dangerous men from the other faction. I.e. this bloke here *elbows Redpaw* Didn't we discuss this already?

5. Describe your current place of residence.

Redpaw: A small hovel on the edge of town, rather tumbledown, since I am gone so much these days. I do have a small garden plot I attend to whenever I get the chance

Crestlen: I currently reside in the palace of Haelswoop, Owl-prince, the Flamehope Featherwen leader.   Nice conditions, those.

Redpaw: All that cushy make you soft yet?

6. Explain your last crisis. How were you changed when you came out of it?

Redpaw: Hmm. Our lives are a series of crises, one after another. Being a warrior tends to do that to one's life.

Crestlen: But the latest is my current situation, being trapped in Brightgorge with my worst enemy.

Redpaw: Aye... that's pretty hight up there on my list *grin*

7. If you could drive any kind of car you wanted, what would it be?

Redpaw: What's a car?

Crestlen: Is that something from your world?

8. How do you deal with change?

Redpaw: Well... if I don't like it... I try to solve things with my fists. Though that doesn't always work

Crestlen: I tend to just bend with the flow, so change doesn't effect me like it does some people *wink*

9. If you had to amputate one body part, which one would you choose?

Redpaw: What exactly are our options here? I mean; leg, arm and head? Or fingers, ears, toes? We have spares of those... *grin* But, in all seriousness, I would probably go with my hand. The four freeborn lost their hands to the Darkstone, and I could do no better honor to their memory than to do the same. Assuming, of course, I could choose which part of my body I wanted to cut off... which I'm not sure I would want to do anyways.

Crestlen: I'd have to choose my leg, because I can still fly without a leg. But I think I'd die if I lost a wing.

Me: *snicker* Oh, I'm pretty sure you won't die.

10. What is favorite at the local coffee shop? 

Redpaw: Oh, cider all the way. I don't drink anything else there

Crestlen: I'm not as picky as Mr. Twisty Tongue here, I tend to vacillate between plain black coffee and a nice latte.

Redpaw: Bleh. Why do you think they call it a latte? Because it costs a latte money, and takes a latte time to make!

And the extra 5 about their 'relationship':

1. How did you meet?

Redpaw: In a cave, in the wilderness of Flamehope

Crestlen: With our blades reaching for each other's throats

2. How do you two deal with conflict?

Redpaw: By trying to kill each other, naturally! Our relationship is based on conflict, really

Crestlen: Aye, though I would be the one to leap first. Redpaw's pretty good about keeping the conversation at a civilized level.

3. Do they have a special song, phrase, item, or place? 

Redpaw: Uh... Crestlen? I think this is supposed to be asked to a romantic couple

Crestlen: Think you we should leave before this gets any worse? 

Redpaw: Aye. And in answer to the question... no.

4. What kind of things do you like to do together?

Redpaw: We're gone! Not here anymore!

Crestlen: Can't hear you! La la la la!

5. Describe your relationship as a whole in 3 words or less.

Redpaw: We. Are. Not. Here. Oh, wait, that's four words. Uh... We! Are! Gone!

Crestlen: Well, this one we can answer, actually.

Redpaw: No! You give him this and he'll come back for more!

Crestlen: Aw, come on! Three little words!

Redpaw: Fine. But don't blame me if he shows up with a camera and film crew tomorrow for CBS News!

Crestlen: Be realistic. Oh, fine, leave. *door slam* Anyways; let's just say "Enemies turned brothers."

Wait, is that a tape recorder? 

The Prophecy

When feather and fang do clash in war, 

Much is forgotten, remembered no more, 

Darkness comes upon us again 

This time, from within 

When our country needs us most 

We turn away; unity is an empty boast 

Now a darker evil lurks near at hand 

A shadow soon will fall upon the land 

The dragon-fell, cloaked in black 

Despair comes soon, death no lack 

Quartorlen shall meet its doom 

We have dug our own stone tomb

Comparisons

So I spent several hours editing Feather and Fang last night, getting the first parts written on par with the last parts as far as style, continuity, and all-around quality is concerned. By doing this, I am able to reconnect with the story, add where it needs adding, and take away what needs taking away.
For example, my descriptions of several years ago were quite wordy and rather bland. I left little to the reader's imagination, tended to more boring than helpful, and usually made references to the real world (something I am trying to avoid). Consider the following:


But where the hawk had been a man was just rising from the ground, as if he had been kneeling. But as the wolf and the man he had turned into were alike, so were the hawk and his new form. His hair was composed of large, flat locks like feathers that flared out as they reached the back of his neck, giving him a low-lying crest. His garments were much the same as the other’s, but his shirt bore a fringe under the arms, also like feathers. His high boots had spurs like those of a rooster on the heel, and his face had strange marking along the jawbone, tattoos that resembled the black markings of a red hawk.

Not bad, but definitely not good either. So I did some reworking; and this is what it turned into:

And as the wolf and the man he had turned into were alike, so were the hawk and his new form. While his garments were much the same as the wolf’s, they were decorated with strips of colorful cloth, bright threads, and pendants of stone and metal. He wore his hair in flat locks like feathers in which were intertwined bits of shell and bone, and his face bore strange tattoos like small wisps along his jawbone. He had bone spurs on his boots and a fringe of leather ran along the arms of his shirt.

Much better. Not only do I accurately describe Crestlen's appearance (now that I know what he actually looks like), but gone are the clumsy references to real hawks and roosters. And it actually flows now, as opposed to the rather disjointed pattern of the former iteration.

That's the taking away part; now for the adding. This mostly comes in play during dialogue, which I've gotten a great deal better since writing this first chapter (this is my oldest piece of work still in current use, predating even Freeborn and Freegiven). For example:

He chuckled. “Indeed, our paths have finally crossed.”

The other snorted. “As well they might, twould be difficult for two assassins to seek each other without ever meeting.”

“Ah! So that is why you seemed not overeager to cover your tracks. I had begun to fear they were a false lead, so obvious were they.”

The first snarled again. “Yes, tis not often that Redpaw, chief of the hunters in Burndell is careless enough to let his tracks go uncovered.”

“Aye, but even if they had been covered, Redpaw Wolf-hunter, not often is Crestlen, Hawk-assassin of Embervale hard pressed to find the trail, however hidden.”

Redpaw nodded scornfully. “Indeed? Know this, Crestlen, Hawk-assassin; if I were to hide my trail with all my skill and cunning, even the keenest hound-scout would be at a loss.”

It was Crestlen’s turn to toss his head in scorn. “Ah, that stumble-footed, keen-nosed kind! Yes, but I am no hound-scout. I track not by smell, but by sight, and I warn you, I can spot a hare-runner from three bowshots off.”

Now, my imagining of this has been forever tainted by an ill-fated attempt I made at a radio theater, in which I did all the voices. And my attempt to make Crestlen sound like a sneering, cold assassin, just made him sound like he had a cold. So now I hear that in my head whenever I read these lines. So... I needed to change them, obviously. Hopefully, the rework is better:

“What sort of civilized talk can there be between us, Redpaw?”

The former wolf, Redpaw, chuckled. “Well, you could at least thank me for waiting here for you. When I learned you had heard of me, I decided it would be far easier to wait for you to come to me than to chase you across all four provinces.”

“Is that so?” replied the other, Crestlen, a sarcastic edge creeping into his voice. “No wonder you left your tracks so plain! They were so obvious I had begun to fear they were a false lead!”

Redpaw’s easy grin faded. “Watch what you say, Hawk-assassin! Not often do I let down my guard without good reason! Him named chief of the bounty-hunters in Fanglen faction is never at a loss to cover his tracks!”

Crestlen snorted in derision. “Even if they had, Wolf-hunter, not often am I hard pressed to find the trail, however hidden.”

Redpaw nodded scornfully. “Indeed? Know this, Crestlen, Hawk-assassin; if I were to hide my trail with all my skill and cunning, even the keenest hound-blood would be at a loss.”

It was Crestlen’s turn to toss his head in scorn. “A pox on that stumble-footed, keen-nosed kind! I am no hound-blood. They may track by smell, but I hunt by sight, and I tell you, I can spot a my prey from near on three bowshots off.”

Not only did I fix most of the Yoda-esque style of speaking, but Redpaw's speech actually fits his character, and all the "Ah!"'s and "Aye!'"s have been deleted. I mean, who starts every sentence with "Ah!"?

Well, that's where I be, sitting in the shadows of a cave deep in Flamehope, watching two master hunters face off in a fight to the death. Call me if you need me. :)

 

Why Do I Learn The Sword?

Because swords don't run out of bullets.

Ha ha. But really, why dedicate time and money to learning a long dead art? Why go to the trouble when there is no apparent practical use for it in the modern world? Well, to answer this, I must define the sword.

I actually practice two forms of swordfighting, fencing and broadsword. Fencing is the modern/classical style used for dueling in 1600-1800's.The swords used are foils, sabres, and epee's, all different styles of the same form, which is basically a thin blade with a basket hilt of some sort. Think The Three Musketeers. The foil and epee are only used for stabbing, but the sabre has one edge with which to cut. It is wielded in one hand, with the fencer turned almost at 90 degrees to his opponent to provide as little a target as possible. Movement is strictly linear up and down the strip and the bouts are decided by points. Certain parts of the body are off target, and there are cards for fouls and the like. As you can see, modern fencing is a highly regulated, systematic art.

The distinct opposite is broadswording, which uses, (who knew?) the broadsword! Double-edged and broad-bladed with cross-guard hilt, this is a fearsome weapon. The rules are far simpler than those of fencing, but the repertoire of techniques and tactics is tripled. There are certain guards which always keep your point threatening the enemy, binds which enable you to close in and pommel your opponent, parries which enable you to snap your blade around the other. See, the art of the broadsword is as complex as any eastern martial art. Keep your karate and taekwondo, and give me a sword!

But, I know what you're thinking... unless you carry a sword around in your back pocket... it's not exactly the same! Never fear, I always keep one sheathed at my side. 

Sike! (Though I do keep one in the trunk of my car, in case me and a friend want to have a bout out in the woods). But see, broadswording and fencing deal a lot with balance. In fencing, you learn to keep your balance at all times. In broadswording, you learn to upset your opponent's balance. So if I ever was caught in a situation where self-defense became necessary, I wouldn't necessarily need a sword to apply what I know.

But that's not why I learn how to use the sword. Why I took up both broadswording and fencing was something deeper. See, there is a layer of honor and courage woven deep into the use of the sword. When you use a sword, you must look your opponent square in the eye, face them toe to toe, and test your metal (or mettle) against theirs. And there is something concrete and real there. Not only that, but you must be strong enough to wield a three-foot weapon of steel (or polyurethane, or pvc and noodle, or...) effectively, you must be sturdy enough to block an incoming blow, you must be able to not flinch as your enemy's sword comes swinging towards you. In the end, being able to wield a sword brings a depth of character and strength that a gun could never do. Oh, and it never runs out of bullets. And it's just epic. Period :).

But there's one thing more. See, every Christian is called to use a sword as well. That sword is the Word of God, the Bible.

"For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart." Hebrews 4:12 (ESV)

And that's why I love the sword. Because every time I pick one up, whether it's made of steel or rubber, I'm reminded of The Ultimate Sword, and what it is made of. May I learn to use the Bible as effectively in my heart war as I use my foil in a bout.

Moment of Realization

Sometime, as an author, you have a particular moment when you suddenly realize something important. Like when I realized that this is what I was going to post about today. Well... maybe not. But definitely like the moment I had yesterday evening.

See, I've been muddling along in Feather and Fang, getting bogged down constantly, but not wanting to stop. There's so much in mind for it, and I don't want to let it drop by the wayside. But something's been hindering me from writing as freely as I'd like. And yesterday evening I realized why.

I was telling two different tales. And pretty obviously so. Crestlen and Redpaw struggled through the Brightgorge, turning from mortal enemies to brothers-in-arms, and Daegless and Korra trekked across Thunderfell, changing Daegless from the Tiger-scourge into... something else. The two stories joined at the end, which is why I was telling them together in the same book, but now I think both stories would benefit if they were told separately, and then joined in a third tale.

Woah... trilogy...

So! Trilogy, eh? *thinks hard about names*.... Feather and Fang... Fellborne and Fearless... Faith and Fallen... those'll do nicely, I think. And as a whole? The Faction Trilogy. Because, of course, everything revolves around the featherwen and fanglen factions and their chaotic war.

As of right now, however, work will proceed strictly on Feather and Fang, until that tale has been told in full. I do try to keep the number of projects I'm working on to a minimum... if that is even possible. So expect talk to be mostly about Feather and Fang, and Daegless and Korra to not show up for a while.


Buuut....


Remember that plot bunny? Well, work was so slow yesterday I pulled out some printer paper, sat down in a corner, and started writing. And I liked what I found. So I may or may not be following him further in the next few days, depending on what it looks like when I transfer my illegible scribbling to the computer.  We shall see...

Plot Bunny!

I know every aspiring author's had one. That cute little rascal of a plot rabbit that slips out of the game bag of your mind and just starts running. Well, one escaped last Tuesday, started running, disappeared behind a bush, and reappeared this morning. And I think I'm going to have to chase him down... which is unfortunate, considering the three or four more mature rabbits I am currently trying to grow with large helpings of caffeine cabbage and creative carrots. But he's just too interesting to let go!

So I started out on his trail this morning, and pretty soon found signs enough to begin tracking him down. This is what I found:

My name is Arson. But only a few folk call me that. To most, I am simply the Stallion-burn. And though this tale is not about me as much as it is about another, it began with me, and I was there when it ended. The place was the Levelcourt, the time late summer. My trial before the Conclave had just begun.

“Arson, sometime called the Stallion-burn, you are brought before the Conclave today, on the third of Summerfall, to answer charges brought against you by the people of Cloudford. These include arson of public and private buildings, thievery of private goods, destruction of private and public property, and the assault of three freeborn. Have you anything to say for yourself?”

The court erupted in angry shouts and cries.

“Say for himself? The criminal can say nothing for himself!”

“He does not deserve the right to speak at all!”

“He is guilty, there is proof enough!”

“Silence!” thundered the judge, bringing his gauntleted fist down with a crash on his podium. “Let the accused speak!”

I said nothing. There was nothing to be said. I was guilty.

“As the accused has nothing to say, I hereby charge him guilty, and sentence him to twenty-nine lashes in the public square.”

A muttering filled the open-air court. Evidently most folk thought my sentence far too light.

“Your honor, if I may speak?”

The clear voice cut through the low murmurs in a way that could not be denied.

“Name, master freeborn?”

“Marcel, Fox-brave.”

I made no movement to see the face of the speaker, but the voice was young.

“As is written on the walls of the Hope-Chamber, it is the right of any freeborn to take the punishment of a criminal on himself. I now exercise that right, and ask that the twenty-nine lashes be placed on my back instead.”

The crowd gasped, and any attempt at remaining stoic on my part fled as I whirled around to face the speaker. It was a young girl.

Coincidentally, this is the first time I've ever used first person. Well, at least since my very first story... which I try to forget usually... :)

Criminal's Death

I wrote this after this morning's message. May it affect you as it affected me.


Criminal's Death

The winds sweep cold across the hill
Noon draws quickly near
A man is hung in public shame
Let all who pass by see and fear

Three criminals strung up high
Come out and see their fate
Agony binds their limbs in pain
The crowds hurl stones and hate

Does no one feel pity for them?
Tried and guilty as they are?
Thieves and blasphemers all
For them, death is not far

High noon has come at long last
But dark spreads instead of light
As if the earth itself protests
When it's people mock and spite

Shall we leave this awful place?
Leave these criminals to die in peace?
Let us turn our eyes away
Before the crows begin to feast

But wait! The one in the center speaks!
And what he says, can it be true?
The words come low but ring out
"Father God, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

Then he cries out in pain and suffering
As His spirit leaves this space
He has died, and with his death
The world seems a poorer place

Then the entire universe screams in pain
As the earth itself begins to shake
The wind begins to cry in grief
And the rocks their silence break

And so it becomes painfully clear
The center man was free of guilt
Perfect, blameless, the Son of God
Saving the world as He was killed

Jesus Christ, ruler of this world
Crucfied as a common thief
But even death could not hold Him
And he rose again from grief

Ressurected, ascended to on high
King over this world forever more
Saved me by his sacrifice and death
He holds my heart, my life, my soul

Of Characters and Collaboration

Well, today I break my alliteration. Notice the C's instead of S's?

But that's not why you're reading... (I don't know, maybe it is). You're reading to find out about characters! Well, here they come!

When I and my fellow conspirators were brainstorming about this project, we wanted to make sure everyone was as involved and excited as the director and producer were. Not only does this mean less work for us (he he), but it means we aren't working with actors and crew who'd rather not be there. That gets old real quick, let me tell you.

So! What do we do? Seeing as this is a character-driven story, we decided to let each actor have a major hand in their own characters! Breggo wrote up this nifty character sheet with a score or so of questions which helped each actor peg down the kind of person they wanted to play. And hey, if someone's asking to play the bad guy (he'd been the good guy for the past three or so movies), by all means!

So, what sort of characters did we come up with?

1. Fengrid, an apprentice hunter. Recently returned from a journey in the lands beyond, he comes back to find his former master dead on his own hearth. Vowing vengeance, he sets out to bring his killer to justice. But his path will take him places he never expected. For 'justice' is not what it seems in these woods.

2. Adelyn, an apprentice hunter. When she finds her new master dead, she is immediately suspicious of Fengrid, and her suspicions seem to be verified when she finds that he has disappeared. Determined to find him, she sets out on his trail. But soon she finds that just as she is tracking Fengrid, so someone appears to be tracking her.

3. Jarl, the Marshall of the forest. The voice and hand of the law in the forest, Jarl continually finds his efforts to bring justice to evildoers hampered by the strict code of the law he upholds. And so he takes up the mask of a vigilante, dealing out to criminals their just deserts. But the code was put in place for a reason, and the power that comes from dealing outside of it soon turns him to even darker decisions.

4. Carldon, a young scamp and thief. An orphan whose brother is off patrolling the forest border. Left without a family, Carldon has been forced to take care of himself. His thievery, however, is mostly allowed, since he always pays... with small piles of feathers. Despite his faults, none know the paths of the forest and the quickest ways better than him.

5. The Lady of Glencott dale. Currently unnamed, this mysterious lady lives alone in a ramshackle hut and is known for not being known. No one ventures near her for reasons not exactly understood, but greatly feared. Except for Carldon, who has been seen trespassing with apparent impunity on the circle of forest she claims. Legend claims, however, that she talks to herself or her teapots, and that, of course, is fair enough reason to stay well away.

Well, those be the cast of characters we plan on bringing to life sometime this summer! And that concludes this short series on the necessary ingredients of a good film. But this film still has a while to go, so there'll be more info popping up here, including, of course, the name of the series... which we still haven't figured out...

What's next, you ask? Well, Breggo's working on the script, we've a few more names to figure out, and I've got some concept sketches I've got to dash off here soon. Maybe I'll put a few up here! Until next time, then;

Farjag

Of Story and Setting

So, we got the structure and script last post; now story and setting!

Now, I have trouble writing scripts, (Just yesterday me and Breggo agreed to transfer scriptwriting responsibilities), for the simple reason that I find it hard to connect on an emotional level with a format that doesn't really allow a lot of room for moments of silence, eyebrow raises, withering glares, etc. I just find the formatting constricting. I can direct a movie, produce a movie, or act in a movie, but I just can't write the script. It's annoying, trust me.

But even though that's the case, I can still pitch a good story. And we need a good story, because with the rather strict structure we have to follow, (keeping the episodes small enough so they won't take up a lot of time or actors) there needs to be a very clear plot line and character arcs. Because when you cut down on scale, special effects, even time, all that matters is the characters. If the audience doesn't connect with the characters, or they are too flat, or never change, then the project is a failure. (Box-office flop! :P)

So what are we left with? A character-driven story set somewhere quiet. It's a lot like a design project in my classes, you are given certain requirements and restrictions and have to create a solution that solves all problems and does not go beyond the limits. And there's one final restriction; bad guy minions. Now this may seem to fall under the "Not too many extras" category, it's a little more complicated than that. Because what are minions for? Being beat up by the heroes. Which means you need a lot. And unless you mask them, you can't use the same actors over and over again. And how many movies have the generic "Black-masked ninja minions"? Too many. A few of ours, to be perfectly honest. So we must create a villain without minions. Tricky. But that's where designing comes in. To paraphrase a good friend of mine, "Use the restrictions to your advantage." In other words "Think outside the box, then use the box."

I mean, how many villains do you know who don't have some sort of minions? Not many. And that's what makes this story special. Because we are left with a villain who must turn the heroes on each other to accomplish his goal. And that's pretty cool, if you ask me.

So, what's our plot? To summarize (Without spoilers!):

When a revered master hunter is found dead in his home, suspicion falls on his former apprentice. To prove his innocence, he sets out on the trail of the mysterious vigilante he knows is responsible. But when he finally catches up to his prey, he finds something he did not expect.

So now that we have a plot, we need a place to put it, a setting for our story. Well, we know we need to keep extras down, as well as sets simple. Now I don't know about you, but nothing is easier to film in than the woods. No worries about anything being in the shot that's not supposed to be there, there's nothing to set-up, and you can move a stone's throw down the trail and film an entirely different scene. So, we came up with a great Forest, whose folk live in on small farms scattered throughout. This creates a loosely tied society, where there are no towns, but perhaps a market, no taverns, but perhaps a watering hole. It also allows for a character interaction that works quite well in episode form. The heroes meet one person in the woods, he helps them out, then can disappear for a while before coming back. It's not like some shows you see where some random person (who's supposedly been living in town all this time) pops up for one episode, then vanishes without a trace (even though he never left town). When the people are scattered around a huge forest, it's less likely they'll meet up often.

Of course, this begs the question, who exactly lives in this great Forest? What characters shall we meet in this tale? Well, that comes next time! Try not to die of anxiety in the meantime :)

Snippets of a Story- March

Because we all know I need an excuse to post...

It's Snippets of a Story! Thanks again to Katie, at Whisperings of the Pen, for the marvelous idea of giving us all an excuse to tease our readers!

But enough of my blithering. You want ze snippets. These are from Feather and Fang, which I was writing last night, and coincidentally, thinking about posting a snippet(s) from!

* * *

Daegless snarled as he watched flames leap ever higher from the burning barn. His sweep of terror and fire had now reached from the Shardberg Cliffs to Havenport on the eastern Thunderfell coast. Homestead after homestead, village after village had felt his black fist. A swathe of darkness had followed in his wake, a trail of burnt homes and wasted farms. The name of the tiger-scourge had reached the furthest corners of the north provinces, and fear followed close behind it.

* * *

The freeborn’s eyes flitted open slowly. He felt pain all over. Especially in his head. He groaned, and heard movement nearby. He looked up into a dappled light, frowning.

“Where am I?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

“Under the Loneoak,” spoke a clear voice to his left.

The speaker moved into his field of vision, a young woman holding a wooden bowl. She looked quizzically down at him. “How are you doing?”

The freeborn frowned. Something was wrong. How did he get here? His mind seemed empty for some reason. He was… who was he?

A low growl sounded in his throat as he found he could not even remember his own name. He tried harder, gritting his teeth, but there was nothing. His gaze focused on the girl kneeling over him.

“Who am I?” he asked, suddenly suspicious of this strange female.

The girl raised an eyebrow. “I beg pardon?”

The freeborn sat up with a snarl as his arm shot out to grasp her by the throat. The bowl clattered to the ground, spilling its contents on the grass.

“I said… who am I?”

The girl choked on his grip, pulling at his hands. “What… kind of… a question… is that?”

“My name!” growled the freeborn, squeezing a little harder.

“Dae… Daegless!” the girl gasped.

The freeborn let her drop, breathing heavily. Pain shot through his body and he slumped back. A tear formed in one eye. The name meant nothing. He could remember nothing. The girl had scrambled back, holding her throat and grimacing.

“Daegless… what’s going on?”

The freeborn… Daegless… turned on his side, curling up into a tight ball. It was awful. There were no memories in his mind, nothing. He had no recollection of anything! And the pain, it sparked and flared all along his body, but especially in his head. Pain had come to fill the gap left by whatever memories he had had.

Of Celluloid, Scripts and Structure

Well, some of ya'll might know, and some of ya'll might not, but, in addition to being a writer, I do a great deal of dabbling in directing. As of right now, I am one credits song and some cg shots away from finishing my current movie (which I happen to have been working on for two years now), so it's time to start a new one!

I will actually not be directing this particular one, my good friend Breggo will, (He's the one who cowrote the Soldier's Words song with me), so I fall into my common role of Producer. Which basically means I'm responsible for making sure everything gets done and can be done. We don't have a castle? We'll build one! We don't have a waterfall? Switch it to a quiet pond.

However, I also happen to be the scriptwriter on this one. Which is tricky. Why? Because I am not a scriptwriter. I am a novel writer. Script formatting annoys me. In fact, even though I am writing in the script in a slightly organized way, I am absconding the usual formatting for my own invention, which basically reads like parts of the Old English Pilgrim's Progress. You know, where they have:

Christian: bla bla bla

Faithful: bla bla bla

Chris: bla bla bla

Faith: bla bla bla

Anyways... that's pretty close to how I'm doing it. Because, in the end, it really doesn't matter how the paper is set up, as long as the story is told well and comes across the right way. So, before I can even set about writing the script, we have to have a good story. But before we get that, we have to have a structure. Because not only does it have to be a good story, but we have to be able to tell it well. And that means we get a few practical limitations.

1. We have to be able to film most (if not all), in camera. Special effects and computer graphics can be done, but for a no-budget film... yea. It becomes hard to find free stuff there.

2. We have to have enough actors. When your extras are under twenty, you can't do a full-scale battle. Well, you can... but it won't look good. (Trust me, I speak from experience)

3. We have to have good locations. We don't have the luxury of Peter Jackson to be able to go to New Zealand. Which means any locations 1) need to be close and 2) have to look semi-realistic without too much modification. We can't exactly build Helm's Deep in the back woods.

4. We have to keep the time requirements down. Most of our actors are at least in high school if not college, probably have a part time job, and definitely have a family who takes first precedence. If we can do it just as well in a shorter time, then don't do it

So, what are we left with? A short movie, with minimal actors, minimal locations, and nothing too spectacular. And after much debate and discussion, me and Breggo think we have the answer. A series of short episodes focusing around four or five main characters, all set out in the woods. And because we can, and we love to, it's set in a middle ages period. Bring out the swords, baby!

What's next? The story! But that's coming next post. Hold onto your seats till then, folks!

Farjag, Producer/Scriptwriter

In Which I Discover European Rock

Seem like music has been the topic of the week lately. So I thought I'd do a post on how I entered the current chapter of my musical life and broadened my musical repertoire considerably.

So, ya'll know I like books. I mean, I write them. But I like them reading them too, of course. And given the opportunity, I will talk about those I have read to no end. So, it should come as no surprise that I am part of Literary Discussion Group, which, of course, discuses literature.

Anyways, sometime in January of last year, the book we chose to discuss next was J.R.R. Tolkien's The Silmarillion. Led by the incomparable Mrs. B, we debated and dissected everything from Finwe to the Fall of Numenor, and everything in between. Favorite characters were voted on (Turin Turambar got my vote), favorite tales discussed, and favorite moments revisited. But towards the end music was brought up, and Mrs. B. mentioned that she had found a band that wrote Silmarillion-inspired music. The only problem was, they were rather hard-core rock.

Naturally, I looked them up as soon as I got home. Thus I discovered Blind Guardian, a speed-metal/rock band whose epic themes and soaring lyrics caught my attention just as much as the crazy guitar soloing. And when they focused on just the former two... perfect:

So what did I do? What any sensible music-lover does. I created a Pandora station. And was immediately introduced to the wonderful world of European epic rock. Blind Guardian has a male singer, but I soon found Within Temptation, a band with a female singer who took my appreciation of epic to an entirely new level.

And then I discoverd the pièce de résistance.... a Swedish band known as Sabaton. The first song I heard by them was about D-day. The next about U-boats. The next about the bombing of Hiroshima. The next about the battle of Midway. And I was hooked. Not only were their lyrics about honor, and glory, and sacrifice, and courage, but there were these wonderful references to mythology and a unique contrast of heaven and hell. And top it all, they have an entire album inspired by Sun Tzu's Art of War.

In a world where most of today's pop music is hardly worthy of the name 'music' and full of less-than-savory references and questionable subject matter, it's refreshing to hear music that has depth and meaning.

Beautiful People- March

The time has come once again...
To unlock the mysteries of one man...
To reveal that which no one knew before...
To...


Ok, not really.


But it's Beautiful People time! As always, thanks to Miss Sky and Miss Penn for the questions!


But who, exactly, is the man of the hour? Well, seeing as I'm editing Freeborn and Freegiven, and he's my namesake, and he's one of my most favorite characters, it's Farjag! (No, not me. :) )


Quick bit of background; Farjag Tiger-claw is a freeborn who lives in hiding deep within the Tanglethorn, plying his trade as a blacksmith. 


1. If your character could be played by any actor, who would it be?
Wow, I'd never thought about that. *Goes into deep thought* ......... 


An hour later: Well, I based a lot of Farjag off my own personality and appearance, so I have a hard time imagining him as someone else. It's rather funny, because I could totally have given an actor for any other character, but I can't quite find someone for Farjag... because then I'd be finding someone to play me!

2. Does your character have a specific theme song?
Definitely. "Stand My Ground" by Within Temptation sums up his journey as a character in ways mere words could never do. 

3. What’s their worst childhood memory?
Well, I know next to nothing about his childhood. However, a few years before Freeborn begins he, his best friend  Dorben, and Dorben's sister, Nitiren, tried to infiltrate the shieldsfell outpost in Deepdale. But something went wrong and Dorben was killed. Nitiren blamed Farjag, and now hates him, while Farjag lives with the burden of something he didn't do.

4. If your character had a superpower, what would it be?
Oh, come on, isn't turning into a tiger at will enough? :) 

5. If your character crashed on an island with a bunch of other people, how would your character help the group survive?
Well, being an outlaw means surviving on your own skills as a hunter, cook, sewer, blacksmith, carpenter... in other words, Farjag can do a bit of everything. Which would make him a valuable asset on any desert isle.

6. Are they married? If not, do they someday wish to be?
Farjag is unmarried at the beginning of Freeborn, but sometime during the book he meets someone he already knew. Someone who he will propose to at the very end of the book. Someone I mentioned three questions above. :)

7. What is a cause they would die for?
Quartorlen's freedom. See, all four freeborn set out on their quest fully expecting to never return.

Then will five arise, hope and honor-driven

Four freeborn, and one freegiven 

Together they will seek out that which is hidden

 Together find that which was written

 The ancient power, savior to the lands 

Bane to the dark, and to the wielding hands 

The Darkstone, cold and hard 

Talisman against all that is evil and marred.

8. Would they rather die fighting valiantly, or quietly at home?
See, Farjag's answer to this changes from the beginning of the book to the end. At first, he'd like nothing better than to live out his days hiding in the woods, away from the grip of the shieldsfell, away from the agony of his people. At least, that's what he tells himself. But when he is literally forced onto this quest, he begins to realize that he's been hiding from more than shieldsfell soldiers. He's been hiding from himself. And so, by the end of the book, Farjag is ready to die fighting valiantly. 

9. If someone walked up to them and told them they were the child of the prophecy, would they believe them?
He'd give them the raised eyebrow, then tell them to go find his backup. :P

10. Do they prefer the country or the city?
Cities mean shieldsfell patrols, jails, stone walls, locked gates, reward posters for him... I should think the choice is obvious. 


Well, that's BP for this month! Hope you enjoy reading about Farjag as much as I have writing about him!