Letters…

During the planning stages and the writing stages of NaNoWriMo (which, apparently, I haven’t forgotten about), there was one particular thread on the forums I found myself visiting quite often, because it was both useful and therapeutic. It sounds insane, but it was the one where writers wrote letters to their characters. Mind you, writers are, in a way, a bit crazy in the head, but this is especially nutty. I mean, really. It’s not like they can write back… or can they? For example…

I had just gotten through some “interviews” with my characters, which included some secondary characters and some main ones. Jethro’s answers were the most… interesting. So I wrote him a note:
Dear Jethro,
You are not Chuck Norris. Stop answering me with smart-aleck remarks that imply that you think otherwise. Also, if you took a bit less joy in meting out justice, I’d appreciate it. You’re creeping me out with your blood n’ guts attitude. I realize that you are the commander of a top secret network of the king’s elite spies, and you’ll do anything in your power to protect the king, but that doesn’t give you the excuse to relish the power to take lives. Seriously. Behave yourself. And the next time I ask you what your favorite meal is, don’t tell me that you eat assassins for dinner, with turnips on the side.
Sincerely,
Your Author

Aedan, on the other hand, was the main character. He has always struck me as being very… well.. full of humor. You don’t really see that much of it in his childhood, but… I really had a hard time trying to figure him out more fully before I started writing:
Dear Aedan,
If you were real, I’d ask you on a date. Really. You’re just that awesome. The eyepatch enhances your dashing looks. I would never be bored with you in my life. I’m sorry that I keep on putting you into jobs that aren’t as exciting as you’d like, but you’re so loyal and trustworthy, and the king insists that I keep you alive. At the same time, I can understand why you get carried away in battle- the childhood loss of your parents and your eye was not an easy thing to live through. However, as well as I know you, I still feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface. Yes, you are amazing at your job, and I can picture you very well (at least your face, anyway). Yes, you do enjoy sweet-talking the ladies. Yes, you are somewhat rough around the edges, and you are full of witty remarks (most of which are things I’d say myself –– for which I apologize). These are things that endear you to me. However, I need to know more. Honestly, you’ve got to have a life outside of work. Also, can you help me figure out your sleeping patterns? It almost seems like you never sleep, which I know can’t be true. Please tell me, and tell me soon.
Just getting to know you,
Your Author

Feann is… well… I’d say that I favor him, but that seems to take on an odd meaning. It seems like I beat him up more than other people:
Dear Feann-
Aedan will be the main character. Don’t try to change that. I’ll be very upset with you if you do, as much as I like you. Yes, you will have your part. Yes, it will be awesome. But control yourself. Don’t get killed, and don’t take over the story. Really. I mean that. Also, do try not to get knocked off your horse too often.
Sincerely,
Gwen

Just for the last line…
Aedan-
I can’t wait to write your story. I’m deeply sorry for some of the things you will have to go through. Really, I am. Still, what happens now will shape you for the future, so you’ll have to put on your big kid panties and act like a man. You will excel. I know you will. You are just that awesome, my knight in slightly dented armor.
Love,
Gwen

Sometimes my notes had more to do with writing than with my characters:
Dear Aedan-
Thank you so much for being so inquisitive. You’ve saved my wordcount…
Love,
Gwen

I totally got personal with this one:
Aedan-
I know they put you in the kitchen to wash dishes. I know you hate it with a passion. I hate washing dishes, too. Please find some witty way of getting the task done without getting in trouble, if only just to amuse me and keep me from skipping this part of the story…
Love you!
Gwen

I really have a hard time writing children:
Dear Gaelan-
Why are you talking as if you’re an adult? You’re an eleven year old! Stop playing philosopher and act like it!
Thanks!
Gwen

This says it all. I have since decided to let Jethro do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Otherwise, he might chase after me. Honestly, he has a mind of his own:
Dear Jethro-
You are shaping up to being awesome. Forget what I said about Chuck Norris. You are THE MAN! Now go and kill off some treacherous folks…
I salute you!
Gwen

A little threat to remind a minor character of his… dispensability:
Dear Logan-
Don’t forget that you’re one of the “disposable” characters. Do one more bad thing, I dare you. In fact, PLEASE do something awful. I haven’t killed any characters for thousands of words, and you are definitely on the list.
Sincerely, but not lovingly,
Gwen

P.S.- I am fully aware that I sounded creepy when I wrote that. It was unintentional.

Before I gave in to Jethro’s way of doing things, I did threaten him a bit (though I couldn’t possibly kill him off –– it’d be like breaking a Tiffany window):
Dear Jethro-
Don’t go too far. I’m warning you. I will slap you. Don’t think I won’t.
Love,
Gwen

Mind you, I do plan on participating in Camp NaNoWriMo this April, so… I will most certainly be writing more letters in the near future…

Challenging the Blank/Unfinished Page

At this moment, I am staring back at the blinking line on my word processor. It is not the sole thing on the screen, but it still challenges me –– dares me to change whatever I choose in this mess that is my blood, sweat, and tears.

It’s usually painful for me to work on something that I’ve set aside for several months at a time. Perseverance is no exception. I put it on the back burner towards the end of October to start in on it’s prequel, Bane of Foes, and I have barely glanced at it since then. At last I am giving myself a break from BoF (which still needs tweaking) to take a look at its sister story, and I almost want to cry.

The scenes are too short, the story itself is too short, there are huge gaps in time (a regular issue with my writing), it lacks an ending, there’s endless unanswered questions, I need someone with a red pen to read it all the way through… The list goes on.

How do I ever get out of these editing blues? I’ll tell you. I just get up and do it. There’s no other way. It’s just like paying bills –– you don’t deal with it by expecting someone else to do it, and you certainly can’t ignore it, or it won’t get done. You just have to put on your big kid panties and get going. The first moments are royally painful, but that is the price of anything creative. It’s exactly like the empty page syndrome (as I choose to call it from now on) –– you have to be brave enough to make the first stroke on the white space that is staring at you, daring you to mar its perfect surface with whatever is in your mind at the moment. This brings me to another thought.

In my opinion, waiting for inspiration is one of the worst things for a creative mind. While things do happen spontaneously, such moments are few and far between. To get a constant flow –– whether it’s writing, painting, drawing, or anything else –– the artist must practice her skill on a regular basis. Sure, you’ll produce complete drivel sometimes. It happens. But you will find that as time passes, your work will mature and your mind will be quicker to pass that awkward “waiting” moment. It’s a discipline.

I’ve also come to the conclusion that nothing helps my writing better than deadlines. Mind you, I hate deadlines, but they are the one of the only things that push me to keep going when I don’t feel like it. For example, word count goals do amazing things for my writing.

So… don’t wait for inspiration to hit you on the back of the head and take over. Instead, sneak up on it and take the wheel. You may be happily surprised at what comes out.

Villain? Or just on the wrong side?

At the risk of writing what could be a monstrous bunny trail, I have branched off into the doings of one of the villains from the great continent of Marda. I speak, of course, of the King of Ilona, the Black Lion –– Hendelmere. I have no idea whether it will make the final cut, but at the moment, I really don’t care if it does. I’m writing, and I’m having a heck of a lot of fun with it. I suppose that’s what matters.

Right from the start, Hendelmere has been a personal favourite of mine –– and it’s not the freaky yellow eyes or the black leather that he wears. No. Is it because he’s one of the “bad boys”? Erm… No. Generally, he is a cold, calculating scoundrel with a hunger for power. Manipulation is not beneath him, by any means. He sees mercy as a sign of weakness, so he rules with an iron fist. His temper is normally kept under control, but he does explode now and again when things go wrong. Everything on the surface of him cries out that he is a belligerant dictator, because he does not speak his full mind. I, however, know differently.

I have seen Hendelmere when he is locked away by himself. At first, he is angry about his predicament, but then he grows sorrowful. He misses his home. He misses his wife. He worries about his son, who is just as ambitious as he. He regrets the actions that have brought him to where he has ended up (to some extent). This is where I start feeling sorry for locking him away in a tower, and I start to wonder… Just how bad is he? Whoa, there. Back it up a bit!

He misses his wife. Clearly, there’s a story here that hasn’t been told. One that I want to hear. The Black Lion, king of intimidation and full of demands, misses his wife. He doesn’t miss her body, he misses her. This in itself speaks volumes of him. Could it be possible that this man is actually capable of love? How can this be? I must know!

Let me tell you a little more about this guy. As dark as he can be in his treatment of his enemies, and as sneaky as he can be, he still respects the laws of chivalry regarding women. The flaw with this is that he does not enforce these rules with his subjects, nor with his allies –– but this is beside the point. Obviously, he has high standards that he holds himself to.

He also gains wisdom with age, learning how to choose his battles. He tries to instill this knowledge in his son, but his offspring is far more hot-headed and foolish than he. However, instead of bailing him out, he lets his son stumble and pay the consequences for his actions. This, in my opinion, makes him at least a half-decent father, even though his son is an unrepentant rogue.

Does this make him any less of a villain in the eyes of his enemies? Absolutely not. They know what he is capable of, and they aren’t likely to forget. They know that he is a careful schemer, and his motives are no mystery to them. But this begs one question.

If I were to write the entire story from Hendelmere’s side of things, with less emphasis on his brother’s kingdom, would he still be the “bad” guy? Do his motives and his methods alone put him on the wrong side of justice? Or is it simply a matter of perspective? As far as I can tell, he’s only “bad” in the eyes of the protagonist. In his own eyes, he’s just as chivalrous and moral as the “good” guys. He just happens to be leading the other team. Every single time I look through his freaky yellow eyes, I see something I like about him, and that makes him all the more intriguing.

So what does this have to do with writing? I am increasingly of the opinion that one of the key things that draws me into a story is a complicated villain. Yes, there is a place for the bad guy who is inherently evil and knows it, but the reality is that everyone, no matter how evil, is human. I have gone past the point of wanting to hear stories where the bad guys are just bad. I want to know what makes them tick and what makes them think they’re right –– or indeed, whether they really do think they’re right. I want to know why they’re such a screwed up mess. Is it pure and simple pride? Or was there some experience in their past that caused them to see things in a skewed manner? I must know, so I keep on writing…