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Messages - AndreaGS

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Writing Group / Re: Plotting Chapter by Chapter
« on: December 18, 2010, 07:04:33 AM »
I know exactly what you mean!  My most difficult problem is the middle.  Beginning, easy.  End, got that when I thought of the beginning.  Middle...?

What helped the most for me was putting it in excel, chapter by chapter, with subplots titled.  Each chapter should have its own mini-arc.  Beginning, middle, end.  This is really important.  Every chapter beginning should have its own hook, and every chapter end should make the reader want to read the next chapter.  The titled subplots helped me see if it had been too long since a subplot had been touched.

Another technique would be to write down those planned scenes on index cards and then to arrange them by chronology.  Then try to connect those dots and fill in the blanks.

If you're good at character development, run with that.  A lot of times, characters' actions can help define a plot.

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Writing Group / Re: Length of Fantasy Novels
« on: December 18, 2010, 06:55:16 AM »
I hear 80-100K is ideal, though fantasy/sci-fi can push 120K and be fine for 1st time authors.  As others have said, however, it depends on the story.  The 1st book I wrote (dropped project for now) was 140K, and though agents expressed misgivings, they still looked at it.  Of course, I still got rejected in the end, so take that as you will.  :D

I'd just look it over, polish it, and see if you get any nibbles.

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Writing Group / Re: Magic-How can I...
« on: December 18, 2010, 06:48:48 AM »
I think the "flashiness" of magic is often dependent on the mood of the writing.

If your character is throwing fireballs left and right and yelling "Take that b#$^#es!"...well, that's definitely flashy.

On the other hand, if your character is undergoing a religious ceremony by which he will create a sphere of flame meant to last sixty days and sixty nights (to symbolize the end of a holy war), it changes the mood.

They are both technically "fireballs".

I think a lot of flashiness hinges on the price of magic.  If it doesn't cost someone anything (time, effort, energy, their soul, etc.) or very little to make magic, then the use of it becomes blasé.

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Writing Group / Re: Writing Prompts!
« on: December 18, 2010, 05:42:23 AM »
Hey all!  Wandered over here through facebook and then Brandon Sanderson's blog.  I saw the dialogue exercise and thought I might give it a go.  I'm having fun reading through the other submissions!

Prompt: Write a five- to ten-page two-character dialogue with no tags or blocking. Try to evoke character, conflict, and plot using only dialogue. Include: a problem, two distinct individuals, a fantasy/sf element. Avoid: long monologues, exposition. Use context, not explanations.

Title: Parting of the Ways

   “You came after me.”

   “You're hurt, let me help you.”

   “Don't touch me!  I know what you are.  I'm an idiot, never putting two and two together.  All those years and you getting more and more private.  I suspected that you weren't who you said you were, but by then so much time had passed.  Ama, of all the things...Amarris.  Lost daughter of Shion and Calliwen.  It was in front of me the entire time.”

   “I'm getting you out of here.”

   “Like hell you are.  You think I want your help?  I'd rather be dead.”

   “You don't mean that.  You'll feel better once you're healed up and rested.  I need to get you back.”

   “Back to what?  More running, more hiding?  My brother is dead.  Lan Nodric is dead.  Your country has won.  There is no one left to resist you.”

   “Don't call it my country.  Isego is my country now.”

   “By Inea's tits, you actually believe that, don't you?”

   “I grew up here.  You took me in. You raised me.  Mezare is a dream I had a long time ago.”

   “I raised a serpent.  Look at you.  You'll never be Isegan.  Your skin, your hair, your eyes.  And your fire.”

   “My fire just saved your life.”

   “I won’t thank it, if that’s what you’re prodding after.  I don’t know you.  I don’t know who you are.  Ama, Amarris – which one are you truly?  The boy I taught to steal horses, or the girl who can use a drop of blood to send her enemies up in flames?  What did you think would happen?  You’d rescue me, and we’d go back to the way things were?”

   “I hoped…I don’t know how to be any other way.”

   “Liar.  You know how to be lestari.”

   “I was only a child when my father anointed me.  How can you blame me for that?  I didn’t know what was happening.  I didn’t know what it meant.”

   “Did I say I blamed you?  I don’t.  We don’t blame the wolf for being a wolf, even when it kills our sheep.  But you are Mezaran, Amarris, and lestari.  It’s in your blood.  You can’t change that, even if you were to tear away every bit of flesh from bone.”

   “Stop it.  Please, I just want to take you home.”

   “I said don’t touch me!  Try that again and I’ll put this put this bolt right through your heart.  I can move my arms just fine, and I’m a better shot than Golon.”

   “Vangar, don’t.  I can’t leave you here.  There’s no one around for miles.  If the Mezarans come back they’ll kill you.”

   “If they come back, I’ll cut my own throat, and let my blood spill onto the ground.  They won’t take me the way they did Lan Nodric and Golon.  They won’t bleed me out and use me for their fire.  You won’t use me.”

   “You think that’s what I want?  Yes I used some of your blood, and I’m sorry.  I had to.  I came here to fight lestari, not join them.”

   “Join them?  Have you been listening to me?  You are them. You just killed four lestari on your own, without training.  What does that make you if not lestari?  It’s not your place to ride around Isego, steal horses, and pretend to be a boy.  You’re a farce, a mockingbird.”

   “Then what would you have me do?  Would you rather I acted like them?”

   “Tell me this.  If you profess so ardently to be Isegan, why did you use fire when you came after me?”

   “It was the only way I could get you free.”

   “You didn’t even try another way.  It was easy for you to use fire.  It was there, and you used it.  You’ll run into other situations where, in your mind, using your lestari powers will be the only way.  And just as you did now, you won’t hesitate.  You’ll use them.  You’ve done it before.”

   “Yes, I’ve used fire before.  I’ve used it to keep you from getting hurt, and to keep Golon from getting hurt.  I will always do anything I can to keep the people I care about safe.”

   “An Isegan would never use fire.  Even if we had the ability bred into our blood, even if you anointed us at the top of one of your pyramids, even if your god, Lestoor, came before us in person and told us he accepted us as his own.  Not to save our families, not to save our own lives.  We have been ground beneath the heel of Mezare’s boot for too long.  What you do is an abomination.  It’s disgusting.  You treat us like cattle – blood to feed your lust for fire.”

   “Stop pretending I’m like them!  I didn’t kill Lan Nodric, and I didn’t kill Golon.  I’ve proved my loyalty to you a thousand times over.  I had chance after chance to turn you over to Mezare.  I could have done it while still pretending to be a boy, and lined my pockets while I was at it.  Instead I have turned my back on them.  Doesn’t that mean anything to you?  You told me once that I was like a son to you.”

   “Aye, once.  There was a time I thought you a boy, as well.  Doesn’t make it any more true.”

   “You’re an infuriating old man!  What do I have to do to prove that I’m more Isegan than I am Mezaran?  You talk in riddles and circles, all the while your wounds lie unbound.  Tell me what I have to do.  Tell me!”

   “Don’t use blood for fire.  Don’t use it ever again.  Can you do that?”

   “Fine.  I’ll never do it again.  Will you let me help you now?”

   “Oh, Ama.  Do you remember when you were young, and I had only just begun teaching you the tenets of a thief?  Such a stubborn and prideful child.  Still so.”

   “I remember. ‘A thief uses his wits more than he uses his hands.’”

   “You always had an uncanny memory.  If you remember that, then you’ll remember the third tenet: if you’re going to lie, be convincing about it.  Otherwise you’re better off not lying at all.”

   “You can’t even sit on a horse in your condition.  By the gods, Vangar, don’t make me watch you die.”

   “I won’t.  In a moment here I’m going to lift up this crossbow.  You’re going to back away, slowly, with your hands in the air, palms facing me.  And then you’re going to get up on your horse and leave me in peace.”

   “No.”

   “You will.  I don’t want you.  I don’t want you as a son, I don’t want you as a daughter, I don’t even want you as a friend.  I would rather die here, alone, in the place where my brother passed, than to think you might defile my corpse.”

   “I wouldn’t.  I promise.  Don’t do this.  Please.  I turned my back on Mezare, and now you’re turning your back on me?  Even if I’m not Isegan, I’m not Mezaran either.  I have nowhere to go.”

   “Spare me your tears, girl.  You have your two hands, your wits, and a horse.  It’s more than many of my countrymen have.  I won’t feel sorry for you.  If you care for me at all, as you say you do, you'll respect my wishes and leave me alone.”

   “Where am I supposed to go?”

   “Go to Darsia.  Go to the ends of the earth.  Just go.  I have nothing left to offer you.”

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