How Goes the Carving?

Ah, yes, the million-dollar question. That glorious ambition you set for yourself, Farjag? That write-every-night-till-it's-done thingy? That will-not-get-distracted-by-plot-bunnies idea? How's it going for you?

Quite well, actually. All things considered, very well.

Every night? Not exactly. But not distracted? Quite! Work is proceeding steadily forward!

I am currently on page 13, which may not seem like a lot, but it's the furthest I've at the deepest I've been working. If that makes no sense, don't worry. Maybe this will.

My furthest point of editing is page 28. And that was a fairly skimming editing to start with. It was only as I got further in the story that I realized how drastic some of the changes need to be.

For instance, the name of this land, Quartorlen, was one of the last names I created when drawing the map. It was the only place name at the time not formed of two actual words. (Flamehope, Thunderfell, etc.) I then went on to name the land of the shieldsfell similarly, calling it Dyrmlen. When I came up with the differing title system for the shieldsfell, I used the suffix -len as the basis. Patrollen, Magelen.

You see the problem yet? The land of the freeborn is named in the same vein as the names of the invaders.

Despair.... must rename single most used word in the book, must go back and retcon every single blog post, must wipe memories of all readers....

Light bulb! Quartorlen is named so because of the invaders. Think about it.

You and I come, as conquerors, to an island inhabited by a rustic, barbaric people, who divide land into so many tiny parts that it becomes impossible to tell where one begins and the next ends! One island should have one name! Additionally, if there no longer exists a homeland for the natives to fight for, they will not longer wish to fight! So, we shall name this place of provinces... Quartorlen, for when aligned with our compass, it can divided nearly into quarters along the cardinal points. There, problem solved!

Except for the fact that the folk of the four provinces, of Thunderfell, Flamehope, Deepdale and Whitefall, will never forget their own homelands. And the fact that Quartorlen combined is too big an empire to rule over as a united whole. The distances are too far, the landscapes too vast, and the shieldsfell army too small to effectively enforce their rule. And in the far reaches of the four provinces, freeborn wait.

The name of Quartorlen will live on far after the shieldsfell have been banished and many generations have come and gone. But it will be the name of the alliance of the four provinces, a reminder that they must never again refuse to come to the aid of another province, or they will all fall, one by one as they did in the Blood-Invasion.

That was a long for instance. :) But it shows the depth of what I need to do, and what I've already begun to do. Just in writing this, I realized as to why the Blood-Invasion was so successful in the first place. See that part one paragraph up about the provinces standing separately and not together? I hadn't even considered that before.

See, these blog posts aren't just for you readers, they're for me too. :) Long bits of mulling where I can run off my mouth and not get called boring for it.

Cause if you did think I was boring, you wouldn't finish the post and comment on it! Ha, ha I'm genius!

Have a wonderful day ya'll!

P.S. If anyone somehow manages to get the reference in the title, do let me know!

To Rewrite that which is Written

'Tis a strange feeling, completely rewriting the sentences that I've been reading every time I've opened up Freeborn for the past three years.

Before:

The captain of a solitary sea-post on the northern shore of Whitefall looked out across the bay, the dark water lit only by the rays of both moons. It was a quiet night, so still that the captain could hear the waves slapping against the ice crust at the base of the stone tower.

After:

The smooth stone of the solitary sea-post on the northern shore of Whitefall glimmered cold under the rays of both moons. The captain who stood atop its walls looked across the dark bay, peering out to where the water met the night sky. It was a quiet night, so still the captain could hear the waves slapping against the ice crust at the base of the tower.

This particular portion, and the small snippet directly after, I had actually written well in advance of November 2010, though I edited them to fit the world I had created. Still, they had remained mainly intact until last Monday, when I began the challenge I had set myself. 

Maybe they're better for the change, maybe they're worse, but they definitely needed a change, if only to help me break still more the antiquated 'matter-of-fact' voice that still sometimes creeps in whenever I'm having trouble writing. 

Most of it comes of from the extreme amount of description I was trying to put into my first stories; I had to tell what the walls were made of, what color they were, and how they felt when the hero brushed his hand against them. Then do the same with the door, and the room beyond, and the courtyard beyond.... etc, ad nauseum.

Now that I've arrived at the pinnacle of writing, of course, such things no longer trouble me. :)

No, every sentence is a fight. A fight to shape black marks on white paper into the multi-colored, 3D landscape, characters, and stories that fill my head. A fight to make the rhythm of each sentence and the sound of each word match the song that is the story. A fight to sing poetry into prose, day into night, and text into images so sharp and clear they will stay with you forever.

If I can touch your imagination just a little, and give you the necessary ingredients, then you can conjure a spell of your own that will take you far away to the little world called Quartorlen, where the colors are deeper, the folk are simpler, and there is always a song or tale to be heard. 

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.

Philippians 4:7-9 (ESV)

What now?

So... now that finals are over... and summer is here... I must decide...

What should I work on for writing?


And this is where I need your help, dear readers. Since I have multiple novels/stories underway (all in various stages of completion), I am at a loss as to which project to focus my attentions on. My options are thus:

Freeborn and Freegiven: Deep in the land of shieldsfell-ruled Quartorlen, the last of the freeborn must conquer their fears and journey into the heart of enemy territory to break the invader's hold on both their country and their countryfolk once and for all.

Stats: NaNo 2010 Novel
Genre: Fantasy
Word Count: 51,342
Project: Rewrite

Feather and Fang: Twenty-two years after the events of Freeborn and Freegiven, the freeborn of Quartorlen have split into factions, each vying for supremacy in the vacuum of power left when the shieldsfell withdrew their forces. When an assassin from one faction and a bounty hunter from the other are trapped together in the deadliest place in Quartorlen, they must work together or perish. And if they make it out alive, they will bring information that could change the face of the war.

Stats: Sequel to Freeborn
Genre: Fantasy
Word Count: 18,319
Project: Finish

The Truth/Trust Hole: In the heartland of a country much like ours, there is an arena. An arena where criminals with special abilities work out their life sentences fighting robots for public sport. These Games attract citizens of all ages, races, and walks of life, all come to see their favorite fighters cheat death again and again against a pitiless enemy. But when a young boy named Alen is thrown into the Hole, by chance, it would seem, everything begins to change.

Stats: NaNo 2011 Novel
Genre: Sci-Fi
Word Count: 52,973
Project: Rewrite

Deep Red/Crimson Streak: Somewhere in the Cluster an out-of-work headhunter sets out on a mission to find the greatest commodity in the markets of the Core: something he has heard is called 'Hope'. But when he enlists the help of a young boy who can apparently see the past and future, things go in a direction he wasn't planning.

Stats: Short Story
Genre: Sci-Fi
Word Count: 3,272
Project: Finish


What do you think? All of them have a lot of potential as far as ease of completion goes (unlike the other dozen or so which I could have listed), all of them get me excited when I think about them... so I'm in a pickle!

Help me out, and give me your opinions! And rest assured, one day I'll get to all of them, I just need to know which one to work on first.

Thanks in advance!
Farjag

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? 

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... :)

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!

The World of Quartorlen

Ladies and gentlemen,

I give you....

Quartorlen

To the northwest is Thunderfell of the chalk cliffs and blue downs while to the northeast liesWhitefall, with its soaring white peaks and icy seas. To the east the Sinkfells, that misty land where the very ground has sunk into itself, divides Whitefall from Deepdale, whose green forests and grassy plains stand tall against the turquoise of Jadewater Sound. In the southeast, Flamehope's volcanos spew lava even during the snows of winter, and the land grows ever more rocky until it reaches Taeltongue peninsula. And in the center of this colorful lands lies what was once Brightdown. But now it has been renamed Darkdell and is enclosed with a stone wall known as the Stonesunder. Here the shieldsfell reign paramount, centered around the Arcpeak and the tyrant who rules from within. 

But no mortal, even a tyrant such as the Titan-mage, has an arm long enough or eyes quick enough to scour the land of all his enemies. For deep in the Tanglethorn lies a small glade covered with small white flowers. Paelglade is its name, and the name of the freeborn who dwells there is Farjag, Tiger-claw. Soon the time will come when he is forced from his hiding to do what must be done. For not until the Titan-mage is slain will he stop his forward-marching tide of conquest, and soon not only Quartorlen, but the entirety of Primorlen and even worlds beyond may fall beneath his vengeful iron fist.