Olivyn

If heaven would make me such another world / Of one entire and perfect chrysolite

The Journey

Plotty McPlotface

I haven’t posted here in a while (obvs), because the struggle is real? And maybe I should record these moments as well, because it’s part of The Writing Process. (Respect the process.)

So for three months now, I’ve been struggling to come up with a SPOOC, à la Deborah Chester’s Fantasy Fiction Formula, for Olivyn book 1. This is tres importante, as I’m intending to start the darn thing on November 1st, for this year’s NaNoWriMo project. I have (literally) pages in my notebook of me working, and re-working, and re-re-working, this two-sentence summary.

I want to jokingly express my hate for Ms. Chester and her plot formula, except that I can see how important it is, and how it’s forcing me to think things through — to the point where, even after coming up with a reasonably good SPOOC last weekend, I’m already seeing where it won’t sufficiently hold water. (Which is so very, very vexing.) Back to the drawing board.

So far I have two eras of kingdom history now actively at odds, a hero, a vision of the future that maybe should be a prophesy instead? Or a legend? An antagonist who is finally telling me his plans (in confidence), but I’m still a little unclear on his endgame. And a heroine who is really going to get put through the ringer, and probably by the end of the book, she’ll want to come over and egg my house.

So that’s where I’m at, T minus 20? days, and counting….

What happened to July

I thought about putting a question mark on that title, but I realized it would be rhetorical. I certainly meant to Camp with great vigor this July, but that’s not how it turned out. I’ve done nothing but reduce my project goal. (Bless NaNoWriMo, by the way, for allowing goals to be edited through the end of the month.) I’m still planning to write a short story, but unfortunately (for said story), as soon as I sat down to work on it, I immediately started getting ideas for the first Olivyn book. Which is typical.

I’ve been reading about writing (finally finished Stephen King’s On Writing, and working my way through two others), and although I can’t boast any daily consistency, I do have more pages of notes regarding the first book. I have a better idea of what events should be where, or more precisely when, which is slightly encouraging. My heroine’s motivation is finally starting to take shape — I’ve known for a while what she has to do, and where she ends up, but I had yet to understand why she was doing it. “Always a good thing,” the writer said, rolling her eyes emphatically. (Stephen King told me I can use adverbs, SO THERE..!!)

In completely unrelated news, I may be on my fourth binge-watch of The Lord of the Rings (extended edition, of course.) Said binge is making it rather hard to complete my first binge-watch of The Hobbit extended editions, two of which I had not seen until this month (which is criminal… but explainable… but not appropriate here.) Fourth LotR binge is brought to you by finally (as of today) owning them on Blu-ray, also known as FINALLY SEEING THEM IN GLORIOUS HIGH DEFINITION. (It’s so inspiring, and I use it partly as background noise, but one does not simply not watch certain parts of the films….)

And to end on some actual related news (but not exactly writing, per se), I’ve been obsessed all week with sketching designs for a pillar worthy of displaying a large plot point star sapphire. It needs to be sufficiently splendid, whatever form it finally takes. My plan is to provide at least small illustrations of objects, to accompany the text, if not full-on renderings of scenes. (I’ll leave that to my mother, who is keen to collaborate and figuratively standing by, paintbrush at the ready. You really don’t want me drawing the people.)

The cost of magic

Yesterday, while I assembled a side table attempted to assemble a side table with terrible instructions and ill-fitting hardware, I was watching some Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Return. I found myself cringing through hands-down the worst fantasy movie I’ve ever seen, Wizards of the Lost Kingdom* (episode 10, by the way.) “Deep hurting! DEEP HURTING!!”

I’ve been reading about creating magic systems lately — it’s the part of Olivyn that needs the most planning — and one crucial element to work out is the cost of doing magic. Everything comes at a cost (or, TANSTAAFL, for my fellow Heinlein fans), and that includes magical/special powers. If it didn’t, why would it be special? And why wouldn’t everyone use it, all the time?

Instead, you see magic where it taxes the user physically. (A lot of magic seems to.) Perhaps there’s blood-letting involved, or the user has to drain life energy of someone, willing or unwilling. (Hart’s Hope comes to mind.) Usually there’s a social/cultural stigma towards magic-users. It might involve valuable objects, or rare materials. It may mark or maim the user’s body over time. It may tie them to a location (Uprooted), or bind them to a kingdom. They may be confronted with laws governing use, user, or both. It may damage them spiritually. (Harry Dresden.) The point is, magic costs you something. Or, at least, it should.

Besides the multitude of other bad things about Wizards of the Lost Kingdom, I was struck by how the magic cost both protagonist and antagonist NOTHING. Zero. Zip. In a key moment, the evil-usurper-wizard**, having repeatedly threatened his prisoner (evil?-queen-wizard) by execution, and later, with a knife, turns around to discover her freed, and zap! Vanishes her. If he could do that the whole time, why then and not an hour earlier in the film? And if he can do that at any time, why do we care? There’s no dramatic tension. And the climactic battle between young-boy-king-wizard and evil-usurper-wizard becomes meaningless. Why doesn’t evil-usurper-wizard vanish the kid? Wouldn’t you, y’know, lead with that?

Anyway. I’m flogging a poorly-written movie possibly more than it deserves. (Maybe not. It really was quite bad.)

Point is, the reader/viewer has to care about what’s happening. A story solely made up of omnipotent characters would get boring pretty quick, as would an impossibly one-sided conflict. If the antagonist can nuke the protagonist on page one, why wouldn’t he? And why would we root for the other guy if he doesn’t stand a chance? The way to make them care is to balance the power (be that magical, mental, weapons, whatever) with costs and consequences.

* Most fantasy movies — not all, but MOST — made in the 1980s are deliriously bad. This one raised the bar for “terrible”… yet, somehow, someone thought it did well enough to merit a sequel, Wizards of the Lost Kingdom II (episode 11). Yes. You read that right. They made a SEQUEL of this terrible, terrible movie. Far as I could tell, the sequel is about a teenage wizard discovering girls for the first time. Oh, and magic. I guess. Kind of.

** No, I don’t remember any of the names. This movie is barely watchable with riffing, as background noise while doing something else.

On goal-setting.

In a crazy, insufficiently-caffeinated moment of snap decisions, I just announced to my Facebook friends list my intention to finish my first short story by the end of the summer. (And now, through posting here, I have announced it Throughout The Internet Entire.) I blame this year’s Camp Nanowrimo mug; it turns my head with its mythical creatures and heady capacity for hot drinks. [sip]

I’ve spent the month of May, while not quite as rigorously productive as April, working on research and getting my magic system in order. I’m in the middle of multiple books, honing skills in my weakest areas of writing, and generally trying to set creative habits in my life.

I’m carrying a daily planner to jot random Olivyn notes in, because hey, they’re date-stamped! (Also, it’s a far more enjoyable use for a planner. Also also, I need justification for next year’s Hobonichi Techo.)

I have a desk dedicated to creative pursuits — in my living room, with the best natural light — where I draw, write, and plan. (Because let’s face it, I’ll be illustrating Olivyn as well. It was inevitable.)

And now I have a goal. I feel *nearly* prepared. I’m starting with perhaps the oddest feature of Olivyn — the floating islands — and using the story to explore their origins. I won’t give anything away, but they do not have the kind of occupants one might expect.

Are you ready for the summer? I think I’m ready.

Camp Nanowrimo

Camp 2017 WinnerI spent the month of April participating in Camp Nanowrimo, with the goal to get into the habit of writing — or researching, or note-taking, or heck, even thinking about writing — a little each day. It takes 30 days to form a good habit (so I’ve heard.) I had a few days without any time spent, a few days that were insanely productive, and it all averaged out to slightly over 30 minutes per day. Success!

Next step: keep writing.

On detail.

Don’t get technical with me! — C-3PO

Some readers are content with a reasonably-plausible fantasy world (or just a well-written one, plausible or no.) I’m detail-oriented, so I enjoy a world that’s thoughtfully made, with explanations available if I’m curious enough to seek them. Here’s an example:

In Robert Silverberg’s Majipoor series, the planet Majipoor is many times the size of Earth, with Earth-like conditions, and giant oceans. The inquisitive (dare I say nerdy?) reader may be asking themselves, how is this giant planet physically possible? The answer: a severe depletion of metals, making the planet much less dense than Earth. (This fact generates a whole suite of conditions: a lack of metal-based technology, an astronomical value on what little metal exists, a dependence on other minerals for building materials and tools, and more.)

Majipoor’s planetary composition isn’t pivotal to the main plot, but it does explain why a technologically-advanced society (hello, mind-transference) travels between continents in sailing ships, harkening back to 18th century Earth. I marvel at how one simple change, a lack of metals, so greatly impacts the setting! It’s brilliant. (Please go read Lord Valentine’s Castle. You’re welcome.)

Now for a personal example. I started developing what became the world of Olivyn a decade ago, in 2007. In 2008, I wrote an extremely short story (I believe the proper term is micro-fiction), set in Olivyn. I was excited, for while my previous attempts were more snippets than anything substantial, this one came out (more or less) fully-formed. I included some details (but not many) about an object found in the story, and its proper name. The details were technical, but described in plain language, to sketch the object’s appearance. A knowledgable reader would know what I was referring to; everyone else would have at least a basic visual. (I hoped.)

My most trusted reader at the time protested these details, and advised against getting “too technical” (scientific?) in my descriptions and names. They insinuated I would lose readers. (Side note: I no longer trust this person or their opinions on anything, for reasons I won’t go into here.)

Greatly discouraged, I filed my little story, and the setting as a whole, away for many years. I resurrected Olivyn in November 2016 for NaNoWriMo, because I was still thinking about it, several years later. More recently, after relating the above experience to my best friends (fellow Wrimos), I hesitantly sent over the short story, as they were curious to see what was so “technical”. Much to my surprise, they relayed back that not only did they enjoy the story’s details, they had a nerd-fight over what exactly those details implied, did some Googling of the object’s proper name, and fell down a rabbit hole of delightful imagery. (I admit, the nerd-fighting pleases me no end.)

So, thus encouraged, I’m back to plinking away at Olivyn, resolving the timeline of historical events, figuring out what characters fit where and when, and developing all aspects of the world. It’s a joy to dive back in. I’m continuing that development for Camp NaNoWriMo this month. And yes, I’m working on all the details, because someone might want them later, and they won’t hurt the readers that don’t need them.

If you’re wondering what I’m on about, that’s okay! I hope you like this world I’m building. I promise, no story I write will require in-depth understanding of mineralogy, geology… or any -ology. Stories are built on great characters and plotting, conflict and action. I appreciate hard science fiction, where science and technology take center stage, but I vastly prefer space opera.

However, if you enjoy obscure facts about fictional settings — perhaps you’ve bickered with a friend over nitpicky Harry Potter stuff — HELLO, YOU ARE MY PEOPLE. These details I’m working on are for you. (Actually, that’s not true. They’re primarily for me. But I hope you like them too!)

And so it begins.

Gems! Magic! Mayhem! Sky battles! Explosions! World-building adventures with thought-out, geologically-accurate terrain that nobody will ever know nor care about, because it’s really important, okay??

Welcome to the fantasy world of Olivyn!