Write What You'll Never Know

I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, “Write what you know.” Few people interpret that correctly. Especially if what you write is speculative fiction. I’ve never moved through a realm using mirrors. I don’t have the ability to summon up spirits. And believe it or not, becoming a monarch of any kingdom, magical or otherwise, is beyond my lived experience. And yet, these are all things I’ve written about in my series and in short stories.

“Write what you know” really means, learn. You want to write about an astronaut, learn about astrophysics. A medical thriller? Better find some info about medicine. What if you write fantasy or sci-fi?

Some writers of speculative fiction take the tack of answering any sticky questions by throwing magic at it and some do it well. Some don’t. I prefer (and I know this will sound counterintuitive) to make my magic as realistic as possible. Why? Because

1. I like to think we’re standing on the hairy edge of seeing all the magic, like stories about being whisked to Faery and as terrifying as that sounds, I’d like to make it happen

2. The realer it sounds, the more realistic the imaginary world will feel.

This, however, means I need to make some decisions about my story and “research the periphery.” What do I mean by that? Whatever surrounds your magic should sound as plausible as possible or at least have an explanation for the fantastical. For example, one of my projects involves a dragon shifter. This is not a new concept, but I’ve had issues with regular sized people suddenly growing to colossal proportions.

Photo by Luis Medina Diseu00f1o on Pexels.com

Where does all that mass come from? Where does it go?

I know plenty of people who are fine with this phenomenon and say, “It’s magic” but I don’t like that answer. It’s like an itch inside my brain.

Instead, I figured out how my character carries extra mass both sub-dermally and skeletally. It’s a small thing, but it made me feel better about the process of shifting. It may never make it into the story, but I know and sometimes, it’s enough.

How about you? Do you like your magic based in reality? Can you “go with the flow”?

Evidence of things not seen...

I’m not one to quote the Bible, but it can’t be denied that no matter what your beliefs, it’s very quotable. I’ve always had a particular fondness for the sentiment of “things not seen” being primarily a fantasy writer. I like to think I see things that others don’t because my imagination allows me to do so.I’ve spent a lot of time musing about my love-distaste (I can’t really say hate) relationship with fairy tales and more so on the pitfalls and reservations I have about them. Today I’d rather consider what I do love about them. It is, as far as I can tell, the evidence of things not seen.Fairy tales focus on an ordinary person usually in extraordinarily bad circumstances when something magical happens. Fairy godmothers appear. Curses are lifted by true love’s kiss. Wooden marionettes become live boys. And it’s all accepted as though it happens all the time. I like a world where magic exists and short of that I want to read about them.Even if we don’t like the endings or the lack of agency, our first impulse as children is to want to be the main characters. No matter how bad things get for them, magic brings the possibility of joy and happiness to otherwise crushing lives. It’s a lesson we should all consider—looking for the magic in the everyday.On my walk this morning I was struck by the strength of the wind. Windy days are my favorite weather days. Something about the roar through the trees and the movement of the leaves. I especially love the little whirlwinds that form, which make me think of tiny portals for supernatural beings.Could be the start of a great story.

OOO October's Outta the Drawer Originals, part V--The Finale

October is almost over and with it's departure comes my last entry for OOO October's Outta the Drawer Originals. I hope it inspire at least one or two of you to unearth some old stories or come up with some new ones.My finale is inspired by my yearly Halloween costume--a night fairy. It's more a concept than a reality. I imagine them to be the fairies that are in charge of rules, even if fairy rules are different than our own.Siduenya

Fairy Tale Book Club (FTBC) update

I hope you’re all as excited as I am to start the ball rolling on the FTBC. There is still one more week before I open the forum to comments about The Goose Girl. As an added bonus for our inaugural club “meeting”, anyone who posts a comment will automatically be entered in the random draw to win a free copy of my new book, A Smuggler’s Path. Here’s a description: In Canto, magic is a commodity, outlawed by the elites after losing a devastating war and brokered by smugglers on the hidden market. But some know it’s more—a weapon for change.Inez Garza moves through two worlds. She's a member of the noble class who works as a magical arms dealer—a fact either group would gladly use against her. Neither know her true purpose—funding Birthright, an underground group determined to return magic to all at any cost.But the discovery of a powerful relic from before the Rending threatens her delicate balance.Inez’s inherent magic, which lies dormant in all the Canti, has been awakened. Now the Duchess’s daughter, radical and smuggler must assume another forbidden title—mage, a capital crime. This will bring her to the attention of factions at home—fanatical rebels bent on revolution, a royal family determined to avoid another magical war, her mercenary colleagues at the hidden market willing to sell her abilities to the highest bidder—and in Mythos, victors of the war and architects of the Rending.Evasion has become Inez’s specialty, but even she isn’t skilled enough to hide from everyone—and deny the powers drawing her down a new path.Three lucky winners will be chosen the day before the book is officially released on July 24th, 2018!I'm looking forward to reading everyone's insights for the FTBC! 

Magic and Mayhem Part III

Magic and Mayhem Part I

Magic and Mayhem Part II

The council was well under way when Mariana ambled in following Uriel. Nothing of note was to be discussed today, so she wondered why her father had insisted she attend. It was her custom to hold court at his side, but she had other matters today. Her preparations for Amara’s birthday surprise weren’t yet finished and Uriel had rudely interrupted her plans.

“Mariana, we thank you for your presence. I wanted your opinion regarding Amara’s present,” he said when she approached the dais. Her curtsey was correct to the point of rudeness. Of late she had been distant and deflective. He hoped seeking her out would warm her to him, but her feelings had yet to thaw. Since her mother’s departure he felt her feelings towards him change and not for the better.

“Father, I’m sure your choice is best,” she replied looking at him yet through him. Lately she’d been oddly deferential. Uriel had pointed it out and he had to agree. With Amara turning thirteen, he realized he had little time left. This was the birthday when they all his girls turned on him. At first he wondered if it was the change from child to woman that made them aloof from their father, but now he wasn’t so sure. At the heart of it, he feared his eldest was to blame and he meant to correct it before it was too late for Amara.

“Well, I’ve decided to take Amara away on a progress of the kingdom. She has such an adventurous spirit I feel the trip will be a welcome delight. What say you to that?” asked the king. Searching her face he found no reaction, but her cool manner reminded him of her mother, the queen. He awaited the argument that would ensue.

“I wonder that you never offered any of my sisters the same opportunity, but I would ask that you waited until tomorrow so I might give her my gift before you leave. She might have use of it on her journey,” she said with the same cool restraint. Only a momentary widening of the eyes alerted Uriel to her displeasure. The king, on the other hand, was grateful for her quiet submissiveness.

Magic and Mayhem - A reimaging of the 12 Dancing Princesses

I've read quite a few versions of the 12 Dancing Princesses and even remember watching a TV movie or two. Basically, it revolves around a mystery. A king has 12 daughters who he locks up every night only to find that their dancing shoes are worn through every morning. He asks them where they go. The eldest tells their father that they never leave their room. How can they? He locks them in every night. So, he proclaims that the man who can figure out where they go gets the eldest as his wife. Of course plenty of eligible nobles try and fail, but a wounded soldier is able to follow them with the help of a wisewoman, who cloaks him in invisibility. He follows them to an underground kingdom where the girls dance with enchanted princes every night. After falling in love with the eldest princess, he tells the king the truth and marries the princess.

Call me crazy, but what kind of deal it that? Getting locked in your room and then when you try and have a little fun you're sold to a snitch? I'm thinking of changing the name of this blog to Happily Ever After? because when you look at these stories it's hard to see the up side. So I tried to write a story that would give these princesses their much deserved happily ever after.

Part I

An expectant hush pervaded the room. All that could be heard was the crackling of a stoked fire and the snoring of a lone drunk sleeping it off in the corner. The new arrival walked purposeful to the man who held himself slightly apart. Those around him instinctively took a step back in deference to his importance. Their visitor’s light tread faltered slightly when she reached the king, but she held her expression as blank as possible.

“What news? Is it done?” asked the king neutrally. The emissary wasn’t fooled seeing how tightly he held on the back of his chair.

“You have a fine daughter,” replied the woman and barely had the words out before the cheers and well wishes were declared in chummy unison. Movement suffused the space as men smiled and patted each other on the back. In a mass they all converged on the king, still gripping the back of the chair waiting for the woman to finish her task. She had yet to move and set his mouth in a grim line waiting for her next words. “And an equally fine son,” she continued in a whisper.

A burly man with a scarred face was about to clap his hand on the king’s shoulder, but quickly stopped his approach when he heard the words uttered. Another whispered in the corner to a confused witness, “It’s the prophesy. It’ll always have its say, it will. No matter how many children the king has it’s always twins, a girl and a boy.”

“Why should that make a difference? The queen is in good health and sons are always a blessing to a king with a large kingdom and enemies to spare,” replied the stranger.

“Not when the enemies are inside. The prophesy states that one of his son will inherit the kingdom while the king still lives,” he replied and didn’t have to add that a son inheriting a kingdom from a living king must have committed an act of treason to do so.

The happy bonhomie of a few moments ago became a stilted silence. Even the fire dimmed slightly. The king finally released his grip on the chair.

“Thank you, Bronwen. I will see the queen momentarily. Someone fetch the court sorcerer,” he said and exhaled audibly. No one met his eye as he sought another glass of wine and the solace of the hearth. It did little to save his mood.