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? 

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. :)

 

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...

Since you insist...

Well, since everyone seems to be demanding more excerpts from Feather and Fang, and since I have forgotten the deep and mind-stimulating post I was going to write (I really should write these ideas down when I get them), and nothing new has come to me during the last ten minutes of staring at my blog header... I guess I'll post an excerpt!

But, there is reasoning involved here. Seeing as I have given you the set-up for Freeborn and Freegiven, it stands to reason that I should do the same for Feather and Fang. However, doing so in the straightforward, no-secrets-kept sort of way I did before would spoil a good deal of the last part of Freeborn. But to understand Feather, you need a least a little bit of backstory. So what I'm going to do is inform you in the same way any other reader would be informed: straight from the book. So you'll know exactly what you need to know, and not a cent more. *evil chuckle*

Anyways... the excerpt


The Blue Beard had the best ale for miles, or so it many patrons swore. Be that as it may, its warmly-lit windows and spacious common room looked especially inviting on a night such as this. The stranger strode up the wooden steps that led to the abandoned porch, knocking his boots against the railing to rid them of most of their mud. Then, pulling his wide-brimmed hat down closer over his eyes, he entered the building.
It was fairly quiet at the moment, only a few folk were out of their homes on a night like this. The stranger looked around carefully, taking stock of the room and its occupants before choosing a table in a corner next to the stone fireplace and sitting down with his back to the wall.
On the far side of the large room sat a low bar, with a portly man sitting behind it polishing spoons while four elderly men sat at table telling tales. Two young boys sat at a second table, playing a game of fourlens, and a third held two middle-aged men talking politics over their ales.
“They say the Featherwen faction’s planning to assassinate Flamehope’s Fanglen leader.”
“Scaeldren, Lynx-lord?”
“Aye, the very one.”
“Bah, you listen to every rumor you hear, Scratch. There isn’t an assassin good enough to even get close to the Lynx-lord! Why, he’s won the Fistfire matches every year for nigh on four years now!”
“Aye, but that’s why they’ve got the best assassin since before the Blood-Invasion.” He lowered his voice confidentially. “Tell me, did ye ever hear of Crestlen, Hawk-assassin?” 

(More after the break!)

When words won't come

Ah yes, we all know it. The infamous "Writer's Block." Where we stare at our paper/screen and frantically try to think of something worth putting down, but nothing comes. What makes it worse is if you know what you want to write, but not how to write it.

That's where I've been with Feather and Fang for a couple of months now. (By the way, if anyone thinks I'm juggling too many projects, yes I am! Three full-length stories, college, and at least three movies in various stages of completion.)

So, this is where I've been stuck:


The wolf-hunter growled in desperation as his boots began to sink into the churning sand. The cavern wall rose away from him as the sand began to sink. Fingers scrabbled at smooth clay, searching for something, anything to grab on to. A stone pillar rose up out of the sand, hitting him in the side as he dropped down.
The pillar rose past him, and Redpaw altered, his claws locking onto the grooved face. He turned to look for Crestlen and caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye, hanging with one hand from another pillar, above and to his right.

I didn't know how to describe what happens next. Point blank. Which is pretty sad, because (as you can probably tell), this is shaping up to be a very dramatic scene, and to not be able to find words to tell it is just... well, sad.

So the other night I switched to a different writing spot (not sure if that did anything), put in headphones with epic music (Two Steps from Hell, anyone? Don't hate the name till you hear the music :P), and just started writing. I almost immediately deleted what I had put down, but that didn't matter. The point was that I had started pushing myself to write, and when that happens, you break the dams on your imagination.

Soon the ideas began to flow again, and I find myself knowing exactly where the scene was going to go, and how I was going to describe it. Mind you, I didn't get very far; (it was late), but I got somewhere. And next time I sit down, it won't take long for me to slip into the channel again and speed on with the river's flow.

The cavern begin to shake violently, chunks of rock falling from the ceiling. The delicate balance that had held the surrounding rock and sand together had been disturbed, and now everything was falling together into the abyss that had so violently opened up below the two hunters.
Redpaw scrambled up to the top of his pillar, gathering himself for a leap. His sharp eyes flitted from point to point, marking out a path among the collapsing pillars. For a brief instant he looked back at Crestlen, and his heart sank as he realized the hawk-assassin hadn’t moved. Below them a red glow had begun to break through the spinning sand. A thousand thoughts spun through Redpaw’s mind in an instant, and he knew exactly what he must do.
With a snarl he spun around on the pillar and launched himself back to the struggling Crestlen.

Full of watery similes,

Farjag