Putting the Epic in the Mundane

Who likes outlines?!

Not me. Not in the slightest. Imagine... having to write out every little detail of what happens in boring bullet points which make it sound like a history book instead of an epic novel full of exciting stuff! *stop for breath* For example, my first outline for Freeborn and Freegiven:

- The four freeborn meet up in Farjag’s home, Paelglade; Farjag is reluctant, Ogel is angry, Flashel is sardonic, and Nitiren remains silent.

- Farjag leaves to think, and is set upon by a Containment troop, and is nearly killed before a dark shape barrels through and rescues him.

- His rescuer is a shieldsfell named Rogchaen, who tells Farjag that he is a part of a outlaw band. Thoer came to them seeking help, but all refused save him. Rogchaen convinces Farjag to seek for the Darkstone.

-The five set out, Rogchaen guiding them to the Hope-chamber, renamed Arcpeak, by the Titan-mage.

I don't know about you... but doesn't seem all that exciting to me. And notice how the entire middle half of the book (the whole journey there, in fact) is conveniently glossed over in about half a sentence? That's my problem with outlining, I tend to leave out anything besides main plot points, which of course, makes for a very boring and regimented story. There's no subplots, not character development, no sense of what the story will feel like... etc.

So, I came up with my very own way of beating the Outline blues: *drumroll* 

The Story Planner

A New Character

Well, I spent the afternoon setting up the introduction of a new character to Feather and Fang, one who will have a key role in the chapters to come. I had fun writing it, hope you enjoying reading it just as much!

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. There was an entrance to the kitchen behind the bar as well, and even though no one could be seen through it, snatches of laughter could be heard from time to time. Tonight business appeared slow.

The Hawk-assassin

Following up Redpaw's character backstory is his arch-enemy's, Crestlen, Hawk-assassin

Crestlen:

Born in the cliffside town of Burndell, Flamehope in the Year 93 after the Blood-Invasion, Crestlen’s mother died at birth and his father five years later in a shieldsfell brawl. Seeing his father cut down while defending another innocent bystander left a deep impression on Crestlen, and gave him an intense hatred of all things unjust. His ancestors had been bound in their human forms during the Containment, so no one know what exactly his parents bore as their creature forms, but when the Containment was broken, Crestlen took Hawk-flare as his surname. During the years between his father’s death and the Breaking, he worked as a stablehand for a farmer. His gentle hand and respect won him the esteem of all horse-kind in later years. 

It was also during this time that he became fast friends with the somewhat older Flashel, Phoenix-bolt. Both of their families had been killed by the shieldsfell, so they bore a common hatred against the reptilian race, and promised each other to fight back against the invaders some day. After Flashel returned to Burndell as one of the Four Freeborn, he took Crestlen under his wing, training him in the ways of the warrior and curing him of the stutter he had been afflicted with since birth. His iron will and brilliant mind quickly grasped everything Flashel taught him, and his prowess was noticed by the Featherwen faction of Flamehope’s leader, Haelswoop, Owl-prince. Haelswoop convinced Crestlen to join his personal retinue as a bodyguard and loyal assassin as the need presented itself. Crestlen agreed, despite Flashel’s vehement arguments against it. Their friendship was broken as a result. Crestlen quickly became one of the most feared warriors of the Featherwen faction, and accomplished several assassinations with remarkable ease. Fearing for his own safety, the Fanglen faction of Flamehope’s leader, Darazar, Wolverine-baron, hired Redpaw to hunt the famed assassin down.

Crestlen tends to dress rather flashy, with clothing designed to make very clear his profession and skill. He bears some dozen throwing daggers at various points around his body, along with two longer knives for hand-to-hand combat.

Quote: “What did it look like, furbrain?”

From Flat to Round

Well, I'll say it again, Redpaw and Crestlen (the main characters from my current story) were pretty flat. And it took me a bit to see it. Before I continue, though, I should explain what I mean by flat. Flat characters are one-dimensional, they don't change or do anything besides the one thing they're meant to do. A storekeeper who the main characters buy stuff from several times would probably be a flat character. He has character, but it doesn't change, and you don't see a lot of it. Round characters, the opposite, are characters that have depth, and change. You see into their minds, how they react etc. And neither Redpaw or Crestlen were doing that for me.

So now, I'm doing everything in my power to fix it. Step 1 was coming up with I call "descriptory word runs." By which I mean, "A long string of unconnected which help define and describe the character and essence of a character". So I did that. Step 2, something I haven't done before, was to create a backstory. For many of my earlier writing attempts a backstory wasn't necessary, since I started off my characters quite young, in other words, they hadn't had much time to have a backstory. And what backstory they needed I created as I went along. For Freeborn and Freegiven I hadn't made backstories, but they came out anyways as I wrote (which I'm really glad happened). At one point I even made references to something bad happening in the past between two characters, but I personally had no idea what it was. Not until later did it actually come out. (See? Writers don't always know every last detail of what's going on! :P ) Anyways, for Feather and Fang, Redpaw and Crestlen kinda need backstories. For one, they're older than most other characters I've written, so much more has gone on before the story opens. And for another, they are very good at what they do. So there has to be an explanation of how they got that good.

As Ink flows...

A snippet of what I'm working on at the present, Feather and Fang. I won't explain anything, but hopefully the writing will speak for itself-

The morning had passed, and the sun was beginning its long westward trail when the jungle finally ended and red cliffs rose up sheer before them. But here a dark opening slashed across the otherwise unbroken rocky face. Between the edge of the jungle and the cliffs stretched a dusty plain at least a half-mile across, covered with bones. Redpaw drew quickly back into the shadow of the trees, sinking down into a crouch as he studied the forbidden sight before him.

It was as if life stopped on the line drawn by the shadow of the jungle. The ground beyond was cracked and dry, and littered with piles of bleached skeletons. A veritable graveyard lay before them, where countless had died and been left to the elements.

“Impossible at this distance to tell what they are,” Crestlen muttered.

Redpaw shook his head. “I doubt we could tell even if we were directly on top of them. Too many, and too jumbled.”

Crestlen shrugged, then squinted up at the tiny flecks of sun that made their way through the jungle canopy above them. “I don’t like it. Whatever caused this slaughter is probably waiting for us in there.”

Redpaw shook his head, frowning at the scattered skeletons. “No… the bodies are not pointed away from the entrance, as they would if something had come out of there and had caught them as they fled. No, if I am any judge, a battle was fought here, maybe several. See how the bodies lies scattered around, facing all different directions? And the number of detached skulls? Unless this monster you speak of carefully severed each head and then left the bodies alone without eating them…”

He turned back to look at Crestlen, a dry grin on his face. Crestlen snarled.

“Shall we risk it then?” the wolf-hunter asked.

Crestlen shrugged, then laughed. “We’ve beaten everything thrown at us so far! What could be more dangerous than the bladesfell?”

And so saying he adjusted his bound arm and ran boldly out from under the shadow of the jungle. Redpaw was right behind him, jogging along easily.

But even as they reached the first skeleton, Redpaw knew they had made a mistake. For above the shadow of the jungle rose dozens of smaller shadows, and a screaming that made his heart skip a beat.

Crestlen risked a look over his shoulder to see a horde of shapes coming after them, leaping from the trees like so many insects. But their pursuers were man-like, fur-covered, and gleaming with flanged armor. And unlike their previous enemies, these bore weapons, spears and clubs and blades beyond description.

Suddenly the yawning crack in the rock looked far less dangerous. Both hunters were sprinting now, no longer bothering to look back. Everything they had was put into getting to the safety of the cliff. The screaming was getting closer now, and their long shadows were reaching out for them like claws. Redpaw leaped to one side as a spear flew past his face, embedding in the ribcage of a skeleton a little further on.

A clammy hand grabbed at Crestlen’s bad shoulder, but a moment later its owner gave a bloodcurdling yell and let go, fingers bleeding from a lightning-quick strike by one of the hawk-assassin’s  many daggers.

When Characters start talking...

Well, yesterday I decided to hold a conference with a few of my main characters from across the years, ask them a few questions, and in turn let them ask me questions. Present were Redpaw, from Feather and Fang, Farjag, Freeborn and Freegiven, Rogart, Warrior in Grey, Timber, Where the Wolf Howls, Drelborn, The Disintegrator/When Darkness Falls, James Walker, Second Chance  and, last but certainly not least, my first ever character, Paul Cortez, from On Grace Alone. This is the transcript of that meeting:

Me: Well, I want to thank you all for coming today, this means a lot to me

Redpaw: *Snort*

Farjag: A honor, as always, sir *nods head in salute*

James: As say I

Paul: *sticking his makeshift boots on the table* Pshaw, I’m just glad to be here! I haven’t spoke with anyone for quite some time!

Rogart: And whose fault is that, Mr, Cortez?

Paul: *mumbles something about the scarcity of company on a caribbean island*

Me: Timber? You haven’t said anything.

Timber: Nothing needed to be said. *grins* They all said it already.

Redpaw: I didn’t say anything

Rogart: No, you snorted. Which counts.

Redpaw: You had better not start anything, young scamp, you’ve caused more trouble than the rest of us put together!

Rogart: That’s just cause my book’s longer than the rest of yorn put together!

Farjag: *cough* Your book, young sir, is only 29,000 words. Mine has 50,946, to be exact. 

Rogart: 29,800, tiger-claw! And Stephan’s spent two years at least on me, you only got one month!

Farjag: So? My book’s finished! Yours isn’t!

Timber: *cough* If we’re comparing books here, I have the shortest, and I’m doing just fine, so relax.

Paul: And if we’re comparing trouble caused, you guys are all saints. *grins* 

Me: All right, enough with the comparing, let’s begin, for starters… where’s Drelborn?

James: Oh, I forgot to mention, he said he’d be late. Busy filming his movie, he said.

Paul: Drelborn gets his own movie?!

James: Well his is the only story besides mine that could be filmed. And his got some serious cutbacks in the special effects department

Me: Yea, sorry about that, we couldn’t exactly have things blowing up or catching on fire

Paul: You could have done my story…

Redpaw: *snort* Yea, with all the wolf pups, and hawk, and monkey, and cougar…

Paul: Yea…. I’d forgot about those…

Me: Well, I guess we’ll start without Drelborn then. I’ll just ask two or three question, and you can each answer in turn, and then you all can have a turn asking me questions. First off, then, “What are some dislikes you all have about your stories?”

*silence*