Palace by the Sea

I read Eva Ibbotson's The Secret of Platform 13 last week, and thoroughly enjoyed it. How have I never read anything of hers before? And why do I keep saying that about all these fantastic writers? I suppose it might be considered a good thing, though - if I had found all of them when I was a kid, I wouldn't be getting these fantastic discoveries now.

At one point in the story, she mentions that the king and queen of the Island don't live in a fancy palace with uncomfortable thrones, but in a "low white house on a curving beach on golden sand studded with cowrie shells". I loved that idea. I loved it so much that it sparked a little snippet of a story on its own. This snippet will probably never grow to be a full-grown story, but that's okay. I had fun writing it, and who knows? Maybe someday it will find its way into a bigger tale.

The queen waited expectantly. 

It was a lovely scene, to be sure. The deep azure sea rippling in the playful wind, the pale golden sands turning gradually to grey and white pebbles and finally to long grasses, the long, low, sprawling house nestled back amongst the willow trees as the land slowly turned to field and then forest. Beautiful, but something wasn’t right. 

Colin turned slowly in place, eyes wide as he searched for the missing piece.
“Something troubles you, friend?” the queen asked. The sea breeze tossed her long brown hair over her shoulders and across her face. She brushed it aside with a smile. 

“Where’s the palace?” Colin blurted. She looked blank. “The castle? Where you live?” 

The queen’s laugh rippled through the air. “Why, here!” She motioned at the rambling white house. “What are these other buildings of which you speak?” 

“Well, um,” Colin stumbled. “I, uh … oh, wait! Is this your retreat? Where you come to escape the affairs of state? Your true home is in the city?” 

Her smile turned puzzled, though she was as polite as ever. “City? I do not know these words, friend. Here is where I live, I and all others who need a home. Some stay on permanently, some move on to create their own homes after a time, but all are welcome. Our ‘affairs of state,’ as you call them, do not happen in only one place. How could they, when the kingdom spreads so wide? I and my helpers travel where we are needed, tending what needs to be tended, and when the time comes to rest, we return here until we are called forth again. Is this not how it works in your world?” 

Colin snorted. “Not exactly.” It seemed an awfully naive way to conduct a kingdom—but he had to admit that all of Queen Molly’s subjects, and the queen herself, seemed perfectly happy. 

Maybe there was something in it after all. 

“Most sensible,” Aunt Agatha said. Colin jumped. He hadn’t noticed his aunt and the rest of the entourage joining them. 

Aunt Agatha set her basket down in the sand with a thump. “Who wants a palace anyway? Just more rooms to clean. And thrones? Horrid, lumpy, unapproachable things. No, your way is much better, my dear.” She bestowed a rare smile on Queen Molly, who bowed graciously in return. 

Colin felt his ears turning red. Trust Aunt Agatha to patronize a queen! Granted, Molly was very young to be a queen (and very plain, his inner voice whispered), but still. Aunt Agatha, he suspected, would patronize the Emperor in Rome were that gentlemen ever unlucky enough to have her travel back through time and meet him. It was How She Was.

Influences: Terry Brooks

I've always liked the name Will. William seems stodgy to me, and Bill boring (or, as one William I know once put it, "a bill is a duck's mouth, NOT a person's name"), but I do like Will.

I put the responsibility for that squarely on the shoulders of two authors: Susan Cooper, for her fantastic Will Stanton; and Terry Brooks, for Wil Ohmsford of The Elfstones of Shannara.

I still vividly remember finding this book for the first time. It was at our old library, the one we'd been going to since before I was born. I had looked through the entire children's section and realized that I had read, if not all the books, almost all of them, and certainly all the ones that interested me (the Goosebumps books were completely safe from ever being borrowed by me). So, for the first time ever, I crossed the middle of the library into the adult section. I have no idea how old I was.

The above cover was the first thing I saw in the adult section. The very word "elfstones" caught my interest, followed very quickly by the Robin Hood-esque characters pictured. I added it to my pile, brought it home, started reading, and was instantly immersed.

The second Brooks book I read was The Druid of Shannara, which confused me horribly until I realized we were talking two separate Ohmsford generations, here. I didn't care so much about Walker, but I loved all the tidbits about Wren, and, not having Wikipedia at my fingertips back in those days, went back to the library and found all the Shannara books they had and began skimming them, trying to find the one that would tell me more about Wren. I finally found The Elf Queen of Shannara, and as you might have guessed, loved every word. I think I named a character "Wren" in every story I wrote for ages after that. She was awesome.

Over time, I've read all of the Shannara books except the short stories and graphic novels (and finally got them all in the right order), and most of the Landover series, too. I also read Sometimes the Magic Works, which is still probably my favorite book on writing, from a writer, ever (I also really love Madeleine L'Engle's A Circle of Quiet, but that's more of a book on life, from a writer, than just a book on writing).

As I've grown and broadened my fantasy horizons, I can see a lot more of the flaws in Brooks' writing than before. He certainly has no shame in utilizing tropes, or in using the same ideas and themes over and over (and over and over). His best books are, I think, his Word & Void books, which are gritty and dark, magic mixing with modern reality in a completely believable (and terrifying) way. The fantasy ones get repetitive after a bit, and I think the ones set in the more "modern" fantasy times (The Voyage of the Jerle Shannara books, and the High Druid books) are his weakest. My personal favorite is still Elfstones, both because it is the first I ever read, and for its characters - Wil, Amberle, Eretria, and Prince Ander.

Brooks is one of those rare writers who combines brilliant world-building with unique and dimensional characters (for the most part. Like I said, the later books get repetitive). And while someone today might dismiss him as following too many tropes, you have to remember that he is directly responsible for some of those things becoming tropes - other writers have copied off of him, turning his originality into tropes.

Sacrifice on a personal level for a greater, impersonal good is a continuing theme woven throughout his works. So is familial love, stronger than any spell. So is the seductive lies of evil contrasted with the harsh reality of good. So is the idea of one person, no matter how seemingly insignificant, refusing to give in to hatred and darkness, and turning the tide of the battle.

Cliches? Maybe. Truths that are important for people to be reminded of, even in fantasy version? Absolutely.

Not all evils can be fought with a sword (or elfstones). But evil can and must be fought every day, in all its various forms, by those who love peace, love goodness, love love itself. And I for one always appreciate the reminder of that I always get in Brooks' works, and try to incorporate some of those truths in all my own works, whether it be the obvious point of the story or simply the truth hidden behind my writing.

Heroes don't always look heroic, but the world needs them just the same.

Brother Cadfael, or, What Makes a Good Series

I think I first discovered Brother Cadfael through PBS, the series they did based on the books by Ellis Peters. It only took me a few episodes, though, before I was determined to find the books and read through them. That was years and years ago, and I have yet to read the entire series. That is not, however, due to a lack of interest; rather, I am reading them and collecting them as slowly as possible so as to prolong my enjoyment in them as long as possible.

So what is it about this mystery series, featuring a medieval monk with an adventurous past and an insatiable curiosity, that intrigues me so?

Aside from the brilliantly-drawn Cadfael himself, there are a few other reasons:

Good recurring characters: Not just Cadfael, but all the other recurring characters in the series are three-dimensional. They pursue their own lives, their own interests, have things happen to them, and interact with Our Hero very naturally.

Good side characters: These aren't so much recurring characters as a nice bit of continuity - the goldsmith, for one, who features in one story, and then a few stories later we hear of him again in passing. Same with the corvisor's son, and many others. Since these mysteries are all set in medieval times, when travel was difficult and most people lived and died in the same place their entire lives, this makes everything more believable, and contributes to the sense of feeling at home in Shrewsbury each time you read.

Good fleshing out of all characters: And to finish off the character studies - even the one-shot characters, the ones who only feature in one mystery and then vanish forever, are well-developed. Very few of them are flat or cardboard - in fact, that is one of my complaints about the PBS series, because they tend to reduce many of the one-shot characters to wooden caricatures instead of the real people Peters made them to be.

On to more specifics ...

Good job moving from Abbott Heribert (lazy and easygoing) and Prior Robert (hard and uncompromising) to Father Radalfus: The first couple of books had the Father Abbott as a simple-hearted, simple-minded soul, easy for Cadfael to manipulate so he could do whatever he wanted in solving mysteries. In contrast, the Prior was cold, proud, and had a strong dislike for Cadfael, and went out of his way to make things difficult for the monk. Pretty stereotyped, wouldn't you agree? But then Peters had Heribert demoted and brought in a new Abbott - Radalfus, who is clever, wise, just, uncompromising, understanding, and savvy. At times he is more than willing to give Cadfael freedom, but other times he imposes strict restrictions on him, and there's nothing Cadfael can do about it. Prior Robert is reduced to a minor nuisance, and the entire situation is saved from mundane to clever.

Good with changing Cadfael's helpers frequently - both introducing new sidekicks and keeping true to established canon: Cadfael tends to get novices as his helpers, and as they grow and pursue their studies, they move on, and he is supplied with a new assistant. This helps to keep things fresh and change things up without having to kill anyone off, and also makes sense given the Benedictine order. Another area where the PBS series slipped up - their Brother Oswin had the LONGEST novitiate known to man!

It's not a perfect series - I get frustrated when book after book features a "villain" who is not truly guilty of desiring evil, but was just misguided. That works for one or two, but after a while it gets old. This was especially true in the book where a boy murdered an injured, helpless old man, but it was excused by Cadfael as "he was mad with love and grief." Um, sorry, don't buy that as a reason to let him escape to Wales. Don't get me wrong, I am a firm believer in mercy triumphing over justice, but there are limits.

There are other flaws as well, but overall, it is a thoroughly enchanting series.

And I haven't even mentioned the best part yet! Hugh Beringar is EXCELLENT. No mere Watson to Cadfael's Holmes (although Martin Freeman would make an awesome Hugh, but then, what role wouldn't he be awesome in?), Hugh is clever and dangerous in his own right. He and Cadfael aren't always on the same side - Cadfael serves the church, while Hugh serves the king and law of England - but they respect each other and work well together. And Hugh is a brilliant swordsman, too, which automatically gives him an extra 50 Points of Awesomeness.

Are you familiar with Brother Cadfael? What are some series that set up good examples of ways to keep the writing fresh and exciting for readers no matter how many books are in the series? Do you agree that, in murder mysteries of any sort, every now and then the villain HAS to be villainous?

Dream-Maker

After the fun of my sci-fi mash-up dream, and urged on by rockinlibrarian (also aided and abetted by rthstewart, who nearly made me snort tea all over my computer with her take on the animosity between Lando Calrissian and Mal Reynolds (I am so going to think "Not right, man wearin' a cape" the next time I watch Empire Strike Back, rth!)), I decided I had to start writing it down as a story. Not one for publication, or even for putting up on ff.net due to my blatant self-insert (but she's not a Mary-Sue! She is not perfect and nobody is in love with her except her off-screen husband, but she and Mal do have great fun with harmless flirting by passing insults at each other), but just a way to get some of this marvelous creativity my subconscious was providing me with down on paper.

I'm about ten thousand words in, and it's getting crazier and more peppered with cameos from other sci fi/fantasy stories with each paragraph. Mara Jade has insisted on popping in (for more than just a brief cameo, thankyouverymuch, what do you take her for?), and it's becoming very clear to me that the Doctor would never consent to being left out of a madcap adventure like this, so it is clearly my duty to get caught up on that show, since I still haven't made it all the way through the Ninth Doctor (though even the few episodes that I have seen have left me with a tendency to say "Fantastic!" just like Christopher Eccleston).

But aside from the sheer fun of this, and the marvelous outlet it has become for releasing any stress in my life, the other nice thing about this story (simply titled "fun" in my computer documents) is that is stirring up my creativity for my other writings, as well. Did you know I hadn't written one word of fiction since before Christmas, up until I started this nonsense project? Not. One. Word. (Speaking of things that ain't right.)

And then yesterday, I actually opened up my current MG WIP and skimmed it over, thinking how ready I am to get back to writing more about Cadi &co. And then I started thinking about Maia and Len (my older YA 1920s adventure-fantasy) and realized the first draft had finally settled enough that I was ready to tackle putting it into decent shape for the second draft.

Today I have to take care of some basic household chores (Carl's been helping out a lot - blessed man keeps washing dishes for me, which is marvelous, darling, thank you - but breadmaking and laundry are still two tasks that will always be delegated to me), but I'm hoping to spend some time this afternoon or evening in "real" writing, writing I might actually be able to show to the world someday.

And I will not be abandoning my "fun" story, either - I have a sneaking suspicion that this is one tale that will stretch out for many years, to be added to whenever it strikes my fancy or I am getting bored, and never quite coming to an end.

What do you do to get your creative juices flowing again? What are some science fiction or fantasy characters you would add to a crazy story like mine?

End of an Era

So, unless you've been living under a rock lately (or you're my husband, who greets all my pop culture pronouncements with a blank stare and "Why would I care?"), you know that the final Harry Potter movie started this weekend.

I mentioned, half-jokingly, on Twitter a couple days ago how sick I was of Harry Potter. Then I made a joke about losing all my followers. When I checked responses later, I had two. One, from somebody whose user name was taken straight from the HP world, simply said "Goodbye." I checked. She was no longer following me.

The other, from a girl I've known since she was a baby and has grown into one of the most lovable young women I've ever met, asked anxiously if I'd read the books or anything - the idea being, I think, that only a person unfamiliar with HP could be sick of it.

I've read all seven books. I owned the first five before I needed the shelf space and donated them to my local library. I went to see the first four movies in the theater (something major for me - I'm not big on the movie theater. Unless we're talking LotR, because I saw each of those FIVE times in the theater. I was in college, okay? I did a lot of dumb things. Remind me to tell you sometime about dying my hair green. ON PURPOSE).

It's not like I hate Harry Potter (okay, well, I'm not too crazy about the character himself. Round about Book 5 I started wishing a Hippogriff would take him out). There are parts of the series I really like. I still think Prisoner of Azkaban is an absolutely brilliant book. Fred and George Weasley, all of the Weasleys really, are terrific (yes, even Percy). The humor, especially in the first few books, is delightful. The attention to detail, and connectedness between books, still blows my mind. I admire Rowling's creativity so much in building her magical world and peopling it with all the different species and creatures she did.

And I adore Emma Watson.

So I'm not being a complete curmudgeon here. I just honestly don't think the HP world is worth all the lavish devotion and hype people shower on it. The first three books, yes. The fourth one was still good, but not quite up to the standard of the first three. I hated the fifth book. Aside from Fred and George (and the occasional Ginny moment), I hated everything about it. The sixth book was better, but still disappointing. And the seventh was about on par with the sixth.

As for the movies, every single one was a disappointment. Especially the fourth, which is why I didn't bother going to see any of the ones after it. The first one was neat in a lot of ways, but it didn't come anywhere close to capturing the sheer joyous magic of the first book.

I've given a lot of thought to why the series (to me! I know many people differ from me on this matter) went downhill. It's not just that momentum is hard to maintain throughout seven books. Even though many people don't like them as much, I think everyone can agree that The Magician's Nephew and The Last Battle are two of the strongest-written books in the Chronicles of Narnia. Prydain only has five books, but they got better and better with each one (Taran Wanderer, the second-to-last book in the series, is one of my favorite books of all time).

It could be the length - as each book got longer, it got harder to keep them as zestful. Or it could be the lag time between them, making it more difficult to keep up an entertaining pace. It could have something to do with the fact that they started doing the movies while the books were still being written, forcing JKR to divide her attention.

My personal suspicion, however, has to do with those incredible details I mentioned earlier. The impression I got from reading the last few books was that Rowling got so caught up in bringing all those little details from the previous books into the final ones, so involved in making everything mesh absolutely perfectly, that she lost sight of the story itself.

Maybe I'm talking through my hat here. Maybe that's not the case at all. But one of the reasons Prisoner of Azkaban is my favorite of the series is that the connectivity is all (or mostly) within that one story. We see things at the end that make us flip back to the beginning and say "Ohhhh." NOT flip back to book one, two, and hunt around in book five because we think we remember that but we're not sure. That's cool, but it gets exhausting for both reader and writer. Book 3 still fits snugly within the series, but it's a fine book all on its own.

The other thing, of course, is that the characters had grown from the first two, but hadn't had a chance to get locked into the more annoying parts of their personalities yet. And Hermione vs. the boggart in the DADA final was priceless!

Do you think the entire Harry Potter series was brilliant, or do you agree that the final three books didn't live up to the promise of the first four? Do you think it's possible to get too clever, and end up losing sight of your story and characters? Have you ever found your characters getting stuck in irritating mode, and not been able to break them free?

Starsong: Excerpt One

Along with all the research and world-building I have been doing, I also have been scribbling down little scenes, excerpts from Starsong, just snippets that come to mind and I don't want to lose. It's also a fun way to remind myself that all this studying I'm doing is in fact for a story.

This one I jotted down this morning, inspired perhaps by the sunshine and birdsong going on outside. The littles and I went for a walk this morning - fresh air and a hint of spring is always good for some inspiration!

****

Katrin ran the brush slowly and gently through Ana’s hair. “You have lovely hair, Your Highness,” she said.

Ana opened her eyes and observed herself and her new maid in the strange mirror. She’d always been proud of her hair - no one else in Brixil had hair so long and shiny. Here, though, it was just another thing that made her strange, like her accent, her topaz-colored skin, her penchant for wearing bright colors and few petticoats, her very outlook on life.

“It isn’t as nice as Princess Isa’s, I’m afraid,” she said, her red lips curling up in a mocking smile at her own reflection.

Katrin sniffed. She looked very prim and proper, standing there behind Ana’s chair with a brush in her hand, dressed in a demure grey gown. Yet Ana almost thought she saw a twinkle in her maid’s eye that spoke of a very different nature than the one presented. “Princess Isadora has half a dozen maids who wash, oil, brush, and arrange her hair to make it look as it does,” she said. “Yours looks lovely even with my clumsy ministrations.”

“Why, Katrin, you aren’t clumsy at all! I’ve never had someone tend my hair so gently, not even my mother.”

Katrin’s pale skin flushed. “Why, thank you, Princess Tanager. Your hair is so long and thick, it seems a shame to bind it up at all.”

“At home I wear it loose,” Ana said dreamily, thinking of Brixil. “Only children bind their hair.”

“Strange, the way different places have different ways,” Katrin mused, threading pearls through Ana’s plaits with an expert touch. She stood back to observe her own handiwork, her brown eyes as bright and inquisitive as a bird’s. She shook her head. “Pearls don’t suit you at all, I’m afraid.”

“No,” Ana agreed. “They make me look like I’m trying to be Isa.”

“Which you needn’t be.” Katrin stripped the pearls out and rummaged through the box of baubles on the dressing table. “Pippa - that’s Philippa, the youngest of Princess Isadora’s maids, she comes from the same village as me - told me that Princess Isadora is terribly jealous of you.”

“What?” Ana spun around, pulling her hair out of Katrin’s reproachful hands to face the other girl properly, instead of in the mirror. “Isadora, the most beautiful and talented lady in Gracia, jealous of me? I’m not even the most beautiful lady in my own land, Katrin!”

Katrin nodded solemnly. “It’s true,” she insisted. “‘Kit,’ Pippa says, ‘You should have seen the fit my princess threw after Prince Alexis danced twice with your princess last night. Pulled at her own hair until tears stood in her eyes, and told us we had to make her look so beautiful he wouldn’t dare look at any other lady for tonight.’ And Pippa doesn’t exaggerate, Princess. She hasn’t any imagination at all.”

Under Katrin’s gentle but insistent pressure, Ana turned back around. She studied her face in the mirror again. Round. Thick eyebrows. Eyes set deep in her head and the color of that strange spice - what was it called? Oh yes, cinnamon. A wide, flat nose. A very stubborn chin. And the rest of her? Small and round, just like the bird that was her namesake, a little summer tanager.

How could Isa, tall, fair, coldly beautiful, her mother’s darling, possibly be jealous?

“Prince Alexis only danced twice with me to be kind,” she said, as much to herself as to Katrin. “He was asking all about my home, trying to make me feel more at ease.”

“Maybe,” Katrin said. “But Princess Isadora didn’t see it that way.” She held up a handful of delicately carved green stones. “What are these called, Your Highness?”

“Jade,” Ana said. “They are very common in my land.”

Katrin looked at them with satisfaction. “Well, they aren’t common here. And neither are you.”




Copyright E Louise Bates 2011, do not use without permission, all that jazz.

Influences: L Frank Baum

One of the stories my parents like to tell about me is how I read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz all the way through, all by myself, when I was in kindergarten. That may not seem so impressive now, but back then, most kids went into kindergarten not even knowing how to read. So I was definitely an anomaly.

It can be hard, when you have a kid who reads so fluently so early, to find books that hold their interest writing-style, and yet don't tackle subjects that are beyond their comprehension. Baum's books were perfect in this regard - the writing was sophisticated, yet the stories were simple enough that even an over-sensitive six-year-old like myself could read them without being scared or confused, or even simply overwhelmed with concepts beyond my ability to understand.

Baum has been criticized considerably for "sugar-coating" Oz too much, turning it into a place where nothing truly bad could ever happen, and while I understand that criticism, there was (and still is, really) always something very comforting about taking a trip to Oz.

(Never mind the fact that as it was HIS creation to begin with, he could do anything he wanted with it, and people still wouldn't have had the right to complain. After all, if you don't like it, don't read it, but don't act as though the author is somehow presenting a false impression of a real place when it was all from his head to begin with. Ahem. Small rant over.)

One of the other great things about Oz was that there was enough humor for small people, but the puns and plays on words are sheer adult amusement. I rarely, even to this day, get through an Oz book without a surprised and delighted snort at something that went completely over my head as a kid.

I have heard the theory that Oz was meant to be a metaphor on communism or capitalism or something political. Maybe it was. But I know that it can be read without any kind of political background, and enjoyed as sheer good story-telling, and that is how I prefer it. I would much rather not see a possible political background to a good story than misread a grand yarn as a thinly-disguised treatise on capitalism.

So, how had Baum inspired me? Well, aside from being, as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, one of the very earliest writers I ever read alone, and quite possibly responsible for my lifelong love for fantasy, from Baum I learned the sheer joy of world-building, of creating a place that exists quite independently from the characters, and has its own history and inhabitants and can quite happily sustain any number of stories, just as this world can.

From Baum, too, I have learned the fun of playing with words, of subtle humor, of inside jokes between the writer and reader, at the characters' expense. I tend to be more of an invisible narrator, telling my stories solely through the eyes of my characters, but I always enjoy taking a break from that role once in a while and trying that omniscient narrator bit that Baum does so well.

And, of course, Baum was a master at creating realistic children, spunky heroines and heroes who frequently found themselves in scrapes, but by using ingenuity and courage always worked their way out. Dorothy is beloved by so many, I believe, not just for her staunch loyalty to Uncle Henry and Auntie Em, but for her wit and spirit, and for the fact that even after she came to Oz permanently and became closest companion to the ruler of Oz, she still maintained her independence and practical outlook on life. In some ways, she was wasted in such a happy land as Oz. She would have made a wonderful explorer and adventurer in this world, as well as a great righter of wrongs. Alas! She is safe in Fairyland, and it is up to we other writers to create our own characters to right those wrongs, and have those adventures.

Perhaps, if we are very fortunate, one or two of them might in time be as well-loved as brave little Dorothy Gale.

Are you a frequenter of the land of Oz? Do you enjoy it, or do you find Baum's stories too safe for your taste? Who is your favorite "spunky girl heroine" in children's and/or YA literature? And what was the first chapter book you can remember (or others remember about you) reading on your own?