Showing posts with label gloamingswood series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gloamingswood series. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

A Pale Little Fancy

I have spoken before on the subject of how helpful it is to keep a notebook of some sort in which to scramble down ideas that spring upon you at inopportune moments. Sometimes I will have a phrase rattling through my brain and it ends up becoming an actual page or two when I start writing and let it fly.

"My pride? You question the pride of Darron Ap-Brainard?"

That phrase was stuck in my head a few weeks ago (though I didn't have a name to pair it with back then), and when I started writing I found that it belonged to some piece of Gloamingswood. This piece may or may not ever make it into the book, but it became a good introduction for myself into the crazy, arrogant Darron Ap-Brainard. In fact, this was the first moment I even knew there would be such a character.



       "My pride? You question the pride of Darron Ap-Brainard?"
       He (Richmond) thrust his chin skyward. "I do. I think you're an arrogant louse."
        Darron pulled the embroidered reigns of his jennet and cocked his head to one side. "You poor fool." The jennet pranced sideways and Darron took the opportunity of leaning close to Richmond's face and repeating himself: "You poor, fluff-pated fool."
        Richmond felt his hackles rising. Pericles had intimated that Darron was a bit on the windy side of arrogance, but Richmond had been none too prepared for the man. Darron paced away on his white jennet, the soft cream doeskin of his suit blending into the creature's hide.
       "We of the Ap-Brainard clan are mighty men!" Darron shouted, and his jumpy mount danced back, nicking Richmond's horse with her lips and dancing off again.
       "Will you please control that horse?"
        Darron's eyes sparked blue and Richmond groaned. "She's not a horse--she's half ass."
       "You're an ass."
      "Is that so?" Darron's lips pulled back in a smile and the sudden burst of white into his tanned face unnerved Richmond. "Then I have finally made it into manhood, thank heaven." There was no following the fellow. Darron kicked his jennet into a surprisingly swift canter--Richmond had not known donkeys could run--and swooped over the crest of the hill. Richmond's mount slogged up the slope with many a billowing sigh, and paused at the top.
      A white form hurtled up the hill toward them--straight toward them--and Richmond squeeze his knees tighter into his horse's flank. The horse shifted and Richmond shouted. The shape--Darron Ap-Brainard and his wild jennet--continued straight for him.
       "Move!" Richmond screamed, and he would have jumped from the saddle were it not for the certainty of being trampled by his own horse. "Move, you Ass!"
      "She is moving!" Darron shouted, near enough now so Richmond could see every gleaming tooth in his smile.
       Richmond squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the shuddering, bone-cracking impact. Pericles knew this would happen. Pericles had sent him with Darron on purpose, knowing Darron would kill him by accident if not by design. Richmond didn't didn't mind the dying so much--he just hadn't prepared himself for death by donkey-hoof.
      However, the impact never came. Richard at first thought he had died without knowing it and skipped the painful part. Then he heard a sound that could not possibly in any way belong to Heaven; it was the sound of Darron Ap-Brainard's laughter.
      "Fool, fool, fluff-pated fool!" Darron cackled, and even the sudden rays of sunlight seemed to side with him. "Do you not know that it's pride my kinsmen live on? It's pride we eat and drink and ride from the first moment we step foot into the world to the last we dance out of it? Would you mewling little creatures try to tell an Ap-Brainard how to deport himself? Oh, you think humility is a virtue, do you? A pale little fancy."

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

February Snippetings!




Writing recently has been very very difficult and tedious and confusing for me of late. Partly because I still haven't figured out what to do with my Microsoft Word program and have been making shift with Google Drive to do any and all of my writing, partly because there are... 4 books I have ideas for and have worked at a bit, and hardly a one of them is rearing it's head and demanding I write it yet. Usually my books have a preference. My MO has been (and I assume will be) to work at the several ideas till one takes the reigns and runs off, pulling me in with it. That being said, none of the stories have done that yet, so if this blog has been a little silent, a little vague for some time, it's only because I am in several pickles at once and the brine is rather cloudy.

But I have been wanting to do a Snippets post all the same, so I hope you won't terribly mind knowing hardly anything about most of these stories. Explanation will come along in a bit after I have decided who and what I'm working with.

***

       Baron sighed--at least Callum thought he did. He made no sound but his arms rose and fell with his chest. "Callum pup, I've told you not to think about that yet. There is time."
       Callum felt the familiar anger rising in his breast. It hurt to breathe. "There is not time."
      "There is--"
        "No, Baron. Listen to me: I am fourteen years old."
       Baron's left eyebrow jerked upward at one corner, and Callum saw he shared the fear. "So old."
-Grey Goose Downs

        Baron slammed a fist on the table and Callum's cider sloshed over his bannock. "Your body is crippled, but your soul is keen and straight. Keep it burnished. Bronzed. In fighting trim. And the people will follow you."
       "Like eagles following a dying dove. I see. Well of course that's a marvelous plan, isn't it? I'll strike terror into the heart of the Northlings with my peckish beak and my little wings. They'll cower, naturally."
-Grey Goose Downs

        Callum picked up a stone or two and hurled them toward the path, following the trail of tallow-soaked torches the men had carried, still visible like star-fire in the rise of the hollow just beyond the village. As if the mock the paltry effort of throwing stones at his lot in life, the missiles landed harmlessly a few steps away. Callum buried his head in his arms, the weak curve of his spine providing a shell in which to hide his humiliation.
-Grey Goose Downs

       Callum felt the world wheeling and wondered if the stars had struck the moon and caused the upheaval.
-Grey Goose Downs

      His gaze wandered over to her hands. She gripped her chest-strap, and her eyes were fixed on the road with horror. A glance at the speedometer showed hew as going eighty-five, give or take ten miles. He applied pressure the brakes and watched her relax and increment as if she had been trying her hardest not to indulge in a squeal of terror. 
-No Mere Mortals

    "First of all, about the kid...I know this is going to sound awkward, but is she yours?"
    "You mean to say--coming on the smoking heels of the extensive Wikipedia article you have doubtless scoured--you know I am unmarried and wish to see if I've been dabbling in the fine art of womanizing. To answer your question quite bluntly, Miss Langley, I received Winnie as an inheritance from an old friend of mine."
     She was silent. He wished she'd say something. Anything.
     "Is that legal?" Quiet, clipped question.
      Well, that was a start.
-No Mere Mortals

     Gregory hit hit number one speed-dial and Anders answered.
      "Hello, Mr. Gregory. Do you have her?"
      "I do, Anders."
      "And?"
      He leaned as close as he could to the driver's window, hoping Aura wasn't paying attention. "She's perfectly ordinary as far as looks and intelligence go," he whispered.
     "Why are you whispering?" Anders asked.
     "Gosh, man! She's in the blinking car with me and can blinking hear every word you're saying."
-No Mere Mortals

      In Richmond's book it began, of course, where all things begin. At that precise moment when one has just got accustomed to the idea of doing whatever-it-is one has been doing for the rest of the year and forever an' ever amen. Richmond, in his case, was sitting with his legs slung over the back of the blue sofa, and his eyes fastened on the ceiling, wishing he hadn't dropped that book because now it meant getting up and finding his place again."
 -Gloamingswood

      "Let's think about it logically," Richmond said a half-hour later when the sponge cake had been reduced to a few sticky, jam-spread crumbs on the fork tines. He flipped to a blank sheet in his writing tablet and wrote the words "Finding Baby" across the top. Then, not knowing what else to write, he traced the words, bearing down hard with his pencil."
-Gloamingswood

    "Do you think this is safe?" he asked.
     Jamsie wondered if he could be serious. Was it possible? Richmond--asking such a question? She put her hand against his forehead to check for altered temperature--nothing. "It's not dangerous, if that's what you mean," she said at last.
    "But if it really is a kidnapper..."
     "Then we'll probably join his collection." Jamsie laughed, pleased with her own joke but, upon catching sight of Richmond's grimace, stopped. "Are you really worried?"
      Richmond stopped fully and turned around, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's a person who took a baby, Jamsie. It's not a joke. People don't do this sort of thing for larks."
    "It probably fell down a rabbit-hole like Alice. Now stop being a sad sack and hurry. The bobbies will have the case wrapped up if we wait any longer."
    -Gloamingswood

Monday, February 11, 2013

Gleamdring's Beautiful People: Pericles Vanauken

Despite my Word program being yet at a stalemate and preventing me from digging my talons into any real writing, I have been plotting and planning and sitting there wondering which of the several ideas will puncture me and take me flying. I have an inkling. And that inkling may become the first book in a series that will likely have three books. This scares me, saying this, because I am not a series-er. But the desire to tackle a bigger project with deeper themes has been growing on me, and to celebrate (and to understand what the heck these people are like) I am doing a Beautiful People on one of the MSC (Main side characters) of Gleamdring. I give you:

Pericles Vanauken


Who is your character as described in one sentence?
The vitriolic Pericles is a young noble of twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and the next-in-line leader of the proud, brooding, and tragic Vanauken family.

Who is you character as described in a few words?
Passionate. Watchful. Self-pitying.

Who is your character as described by one paragraph?
Pericles Vanauken is the future leader of the Vanauken family, alongside his sister, Riona. The Vanaukens once ruled all of Gloamingswood, their lands stretching out from the edges of Gleamdring Pool on the West to the coastal lands in the East. Over the years, the great family of Keeptryst pushed them father and farther back till the Vanaukens cling only to the most Western bit of Gloamingswood. For this, Pericles hates the Keeptrysts, and pities himself and his family. This is a thing that will never leave him; it is written in blood on his heart.

Who is your character as described by several key phrases?
The Hunter. "Do not mistake my silence for surrender." There will be a reckoning.

Who is your character as described by several paragraphs?
Pericles is a promising young man who has let fortune eat all happiness away. His days are filled with brooding self-pity. As the future leader of the Vanaukens, Pericles has a deep and passionate tie to his clan. The idea that Gloamingswood entire is his "right" and that the Keeptrysts sit upon the land, feasting in its fatness is a thistle under his skin. Justice will be done, the score will be reckoned.

But for all this, Pericles can be kind--even gentle--in the moments his pity is turned from himself to his sister, Riona. He is a man with a love for wandering, hunting, and stroking the wildlands. He spends much time alone in the hills above the Gleamdring Pool with his white wolf, Mairkinsmoor.

What is your character's introversion/extroversion preference?
Pericles is by nature an introvert. Deep currents of passion and thought roil in his chest, fed by his sense of injury and misuse. At moments, however--in the Feast Days, perhaps--Pericles will sometimes throw off his gloom and become charming. He spends much time in thought and inner dialog, and thus is an excellent swordsman with words when he so chooses. Harrison Keeptryst has often borne the brunt of this sudden talent.

What is your character's sensing or intuitive preference?
Pericles runs on both. His is a sensitive, tender nature, but his chosen occupation as a hunter and wanderer has marked him as a man with whom intuition is a predominate characteristic.\

What are the weaknesses and strengths of your character?
While a dark, brooding fellow, Pericles can be kind and is very intuitive as to other people's feelings of a matter. This almost feminine characteristic has caused him grief in the past, and can sometimes mar his perfect summing-up of a social situation and how he acts therein. In the woods, however, Pericles is a cool, calm, and decisive person, and is determined to give his life to winning back to lost Vanauken lands. He is manly and courageous despite the sensivity of his nature. A man in tune with the heartbeat of his lands and people. He is comely in appearance, and well-built. His greatest weakness is Pity. Pity for his family and for himself, which has given him a name as a harsh, cruel man in many cases. This is the crux of the issue, for Pericles' sensitive nature makes him feel deeply injuries done to himself and his family, but his propensity to hold grudges age upon age without forgiveness bars the pity from becoming mercy and thus being turned on the lathe into a virtue. This is the thing that clouds his vision far oftener than is wise for a leader of a fading family

What is your character's love language?
Touch and words. Pericles is a bit of a loner, and doesn't allow anyone to touch him. Though many realize he is prone to offense by speech, few but Riona realize the impact a handshake or a touch on the shoulder has on Pericles the Hunter.

What is the story of the changes of your character's personality?
Pericles has the potential to be a wise, charming leader. He is smart, powerful, and careful. But early memories of the days before the Keeptryst family drove the Vanaukens back to the Westernmost edges of Gloamingswood eat at his heart.
The customs of Gloamingswood, however, do not allow the Vanaukens to brood in their corners. The Feast Days are still held as is tradition at the Keeptryst stronghold of Winnsbrock, and Keeptryst dignitaries mingle freely with the Vanaukens on most social occasions. But tensions are rising. Some alliances have been made--treaties signed--among the lesser clans of Gloamingswood that Pericles senses are leading up to the total exile of the Vanaukens into the West.
Naturally, this does not sit well with this future head of the Vanauken cause, and Pericles begins to reach far and deep for allies of his own...even to race of the Netherfolk.

What axioms and definitions influence your character's decisions?
"Unguarded strength is double-weakness." If there is anything about Pericles' leadership style is that he is careful. So careful. This can cause him to be a brilliant strategist or to sometimes be labeled with a white feather.

What does your character believe about origins?
Pericles believes that we all come from the Before. He is reluctant to name what the Before is, for it is only the Keeptryst folk who dally in Religion.

What does your character believe about the afterlife?
If there is a Before, there must be an After. This is a subject Pericles is not much concerned with. His self-pity has given him the gift of small-sight. He sees only what is before him and acts only after watching and waiting. He does not often beggar the question of "What will happen when I die" for Pericles ironically believes himself called to avenge his clan and gain back their land, and since they are by all appearances so far from his goal, he simply cannot die.

What does your character believe about law?
Law is what binds land and families together in peace. It was a breach of unspoken law that lost the Vanauken heritage. It is a reparation of that law that will restore his clan to power.

How does your character's family life influence his decisions?
His family, in short, adores him. Their acquiescence to his every strategy has spoilt him, perhaps, but gives him an edge in leadership, for they place full confidence in his powers of mind and body. Growing up, Pericles was teased and kicked into a brawny, tawny manhood that has served him well in these current years.

When a person first meets your character, what does he know about him?
Here is a man deep as the murmurings of the Gleamdring under Winter's ice. They might also notice the scar above his left eyebrow, won in his first encounter with the wolf-pup, Mairkinsmoor.

When someone is an enemy of your character, how does he see him? 
There is a certain devil-is-too-ill-bred-for-me air about Pericles, oozing from his infected pride that ticks off every Keeptryst (especially Harrison) that encounters Pericles. He acts as a damper on social occasions, and every enemy of the Vanauken family knows him to be a dangerous fellow albeit a quiet one. No one thoroughly understands Pericles, so even his kinsmen view him with one eyebrow cocked.

When someone has been a friend of your character for a long time, what does he know about him? Riona and Mairkinsmoor are his only acknowledged friends, and of him, they know little. They guess many things, but they know little. That Pericles has deeper ambitions than winning back Vanauken land is clear. What those ambitions might be, does even Pericles himself know? Darron Ap-Brainard is the other closest thing Pericles has to a friend besides his sister and The White Wolf. Theirs is a flint-and-steel relationship...Darron's pride is so full as to make him unable (and unwilling) to accept no for an answer when it comes to being a "Friend" of Pericles.

What is something else about your character which no one else knows, which no one will ever know?
Well that would be telling now, wouldn't it? Spilling his secrets to all the world? I shan't. I shan't at all.

Low hung the moon over the Western hills, and the faint copper light it threw over the fell-land below but dimly lit the crests of the hollows. Enough light to show a man the way, enough darkness to shelter him from the eyes that sought his shape among the wind-coaxed beeches. The young man crouching in the tangle of briars--hood pulled around his face--watched and waited. A black stream burbled near his feet and emptied into the Gleamdring Pool where that low, copper-hung moon quivered in reflection. Pericles the Hunter.
Gleamdring