22 November 2016, Writing Ideas
- New Novel, part 955, Publishing, Protagonists, Examples: The End of Honor
Announcement: Delay, my new novels can be seen on the internet, but the publisher
has delayed all their fiction output due to the economy. I'll keep you
informed. More information can be found at www.ancientlight.com. Check out my novels--I think you'll really enjoy
them.
Introduction: I wrote the novel Aksinya: Enchantment and the Daemon.
This was my 21st novel and through this blog, I gave you the entire novel in
installments that included commentary on the writing. In the commentary, in
addition to other general information on writing, I explained, how the novel
was constructed, the metaphors and symbols in it, the writing techniques and
tricks I used, and the way I built the scenes. You can look back through this
blog and read the entire novel beginning with http://www.pilotlion.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-novel-part-3-girl-and-demon.html.
I'm using this novel as an example
of how I produce, market, and eventually (we hope) get a novel published. I'll
keep you informed along the way.
Today's Blog: To see the steps in the publication process, visit my
writing website http://www.ldalford.com/ and select "production
schedule," you will be sent to http://www.sisteroflight.com/.
The four plus one basic rules I
employ when writing:
1. Don't confuse your readers.
2. Entertain your readers.
3. Ground your readers in the
writing.
4. Don't show (or tell) everything.
4a. Show what can be seen, heard, felt, smelled, and tasted on the stage
of the novel.
5. Immerse yourself in the world of your writing.
All novels have five discrete parts:
1. The initial scene (the
beginning)
2. The rising action
3. The climax
4. The falling action
5. The dénouement
The theme statement
of my 26th novel, working title, Shape, proposed
title, Essie: Enchantment and the Aos Si,
is this: Mrs. Lyons captures a shape-shifting girl in her pantry
and rehabilitates her.
I
finished writing my 27th novel, working title, Claire, potential
title Sorcha: Enchantment and the Curse. This might need some tweaking. The theme statement is: Claire (Sorcha) Davis
accepts Shiggy, a dangerous screw-up, into her Stela branch of the organization
and rehabilitates her.
Here is the cover proposal for Essie:
Enchantment and the Aos Si. Essie is my 26th novel.
 |
|
Cover
Proposal
|
The most important scene in any
novel is the initial scene, but eventually, you have to move to the rising
action. I started writing my 28th novel, working title Red Sonja.
I'm an advocate of using the/a scene
input/output method to drive the rising action--in fact, to write any
novel.
Scene development:
1. Scene input (easy)
2. Scene output (a little
harder)
3. Scene setting (basic stuff)
4. Creativity (creative
elements of the scene)
5. Tension (development of
creative elements to build excitement)
6. Release (climax of creative
elements)
How to begin a novel. Number one thought, we need an entertaining
idea. I usually encapsulate such an idea
with a theme statement. Since I’m
writing a new novel, we need a new theme statement. Here is an initial cut.
Red Sonja, a Soviet spy, infiltrates
the X-plane programs at Edwards AFB as a test pilot’s administrative clerk,
learns about freedom, and is redeemed.
These are the steps I use to write a
novel:
1.
Design the initial scene
2.
Develop a theme statement (initial
setting, protagonist, protagonist’s helper or antagonist, action statement)
a.
Research as required
b.
Develop the initial setting
c.
Develop the characters
d.
Identify the telic flaw (internal
and external)
3.
Write the initial scene (identify
the output: implied setting, implied characters, implied action movement)
4.
Write the next scene(s) to the
climax (rising action)
5.
Write the climax scene
6.
Write the falling action scene(s)
7.
Write the dénouement scene
Would you like to write a novel that
a publisher will consider? Would you
like to write a novel that is published?
How about one that sells?
Reader like Romantic characters
because they want to be like them. They
like pathetic characters because they want to love and comfort them. What about protagonists from other genres
especially science fiction. I also write
science fiction. I have three published
science fiction novels called the Chronicles
of the Dragon and the Fox. The
novels are individually named: The End of
Honor, The Fox’s Honor, and A season of Honor. The theme of the novels is focused around--honor. What are the protagonists like? Let’s look at The End of Honor.
First of all, let me confess, these
are somewhat experimental novels. I
think they are entertaining, but they are a little different in their approach,
for good reasons. The End of Honor begins in the first person with a young woman who
has just been executed. She is not the
protagonist of the novel. The
protagonist is Prince John-Mark, this woman’s love and fiancé. The death of Lyral Neuterra results in an
intragalactic war. Prince John-Mark in
part was the cause of this war, and he must find a way to stop it. Science fiction engenders itself to Romantic
characters. The special and unique
scientist, the telepathic boy, the super smart girl, the tricky and lucky rogue,
the super computer, and all.
You can tell immediately, Prince
John-Mark is a Romantic character. Here
is his description through the eyes of Lyral:
As I entered the garden from the house and
walked into the sonic bordered expanse that held the environs of long dead
Terra, I couldn’t help but notice the young man. To my amazement, he hung out of a window in
my father's study. He seemed to be
trying to get a better look at the rose bushes in the beds below. The window was nearly one and a half meters
above the ground, and he stretched downward for a rose just out of the reach of
his fingertips. For a moment, I was
shocked into stillness, but then, with a grin I asked, "May I help
you?"
He was really very young, almost as young
as I. In spite of his youthful looks, he
was dressed in the uniform of a major in the Emperor's Huscarls, the Emperor's
private guard. I immediately thought it
odd a lowly major should be conversing with my father in his private study, but
then, I noticed the drapue and gold of a nobleman. Still, my Father had few dealings with
noblemen of so low a rank to be only a major in any force. I wanted to be courteous, and at the same
time find out what he was doing here.
At my words, the major snatched his hand
back in embarrassment. He swayed off
balance in the window for a moment, then caught himself with both hands on the
lip of the sill. He seemed a little
taken aback by my appearance, as though I'd caught him in a forbidden act.
When he didn't answer my initial question,
I repeated myself, "I said, may I help you?"
He smiled.
I remembered that smile even to my grave. I remember it now: his eyes, a washed gray
lit like glowing stones. They were as
clear as a spring of water. The corners
of his mouth curled into a hundred expressions at once, then his upper lip
raised slightly showing the tips of his teeth.
He sported a mustache and goatee.
These accentuated his features and telegraphed the humor in his thoughts
to me. His clear eyes seemed to catch me
like a camera. They at once appraised me
and, like a photograph, cataloged me, frozen in mid-stride.
He looked directly in my eyes and
answered, "The garden is lovely, my lady.
I was only trying to sample its fragrance and finery more closely."
His voice was strong and clear, yet he
spoke softly as if he was afraid he would frighten me away, "The question,
now, my lady, is are you a part of the garden?
You seem lovely enough to be. Are
you a wonder of nature or a miracle of the garden?"
I colored slightly at his words, but I
chose to ignore the slight impertinence—at least, my Matron would have said
impertinence. I answered more boldly
than I intended, "You could come into the garden yourself, then you could
discover whether I was a wonder or a miracle.
The door is down a short flight of stairs just a few feet beyond the
next room."
"I would love to, my lady, but I
await the pleasure of the Duke of Neuterra.
I fear, if I kept him waiting that might bring out his worst
disposition. Right now, I need his most
patient spirit." The young major
said this with such a bland voice and wry look I could barely keep from
laughing. My Father's wrath and
dispositions were legendary.
I smiled at him, "Yes, I think you're
right, the Duke doesn't like to be kept waiting, but here,” I picked one of the
roses he tried so vainly to reach and lifted it to him, “you can enjoy the
garden though you haven’t set a single foot in it."
My
action seemed to astonish the major. He
was taken aback for a moment, then in a single motion, he reached down to take
my offering. He grasped the fragile
blossom, and at the same time, caught my fingers and pressed them gently to his
lips. "Thank you, my Lady. The garden is indeed beautiful, but you—you
are more lovely. I think you must be a
miracle," he smiled more broadly as he released my hand.
I laughed a moment, but the eyes he held
to mine were full of sincerity and repeated the strength of his words.
As if taking in the garden in a single
whiff, he touched the rose reflectively to his nose. Then, I heard the study door open and shut
with a bang, and I knew the Duke had entered.
The major half turned, then turned back to me, but I was gone. My Father had passions; many in general, but
specifically ones about being disturbed, so my mother, and I, and all the
servants, holders, and common people took the greatest pains not to interrupt
his business.
I
wondered why the major should want to speak to my Father. Perhaps we were related, and he sought a
boon. He would find none forthcoming
from my Father. Perhaps he was a
messenger from the Emperor. That might
be good or bad. Not much later, I learned,
from the servants, the major was undertaking an alliance between our House and
the Emperor, or another family, or something.
They didn't have the information exactly right, but the house staff was
always the first to know, that is, after my Mother.
It is really difficult to make a
prince a pathetic character, but I manage this.
The way to make a prince a creature of pathos is to take away his
honor. His honor is his title and his
power. So we see Prince John-Mark in
this scene:
Devon Rathenberg entered Count
Acier’s Hall on his father’s arm. Beside
him walked a young man of military bearing whom John-Mark recognized as Duke
Falkeep’s youngest son. The presence of
the young Falkeep with Devon Rathenberg presented a further enigma.
Devon
Rathenberg certainly possessed the visage of a prince. He leaned easily on his father’s arm, a
slight limp obvious in his walk. Though
through this disability, he stood straight and walked with pride. The pride in his steps was not due to
arrogance or because of his status; it was instead a reflection of his
surety. He fully understood his place
and responsibility. Anyone who saw him
knew he was a man to be reckoned with—a most dangerous enemy and a choice
friend.
As
the two Rathenbergs approached, John studied the man whom he would soon
pronounce the Crown Prince of the Empire.
To a certain degree gazing at Devon Rathenberg, the Emperor’s Fox, was
like looking at himself in a mirror. The
man had burnt blond hair cut short on the sides but long in the front. He kept it combed back in a part. His face was sharp and angular, but with a
characteristic smile that softened the features and made them almost
nondescript. His eyes, like most of the
Nobility were gray. The Fox’s eyes,
however, bore an intensity that was remembered long after his appearance was
forgotten. But of all the young
Rathenberg’s characteristics, his bearing could not be hidden. He moves like my father, thought
John-Mark. It is the true measure of an Emperor,
the absolute surety of person and action.
The
three men approached John-Mark and bowed.
Then John reached out his hand to Devon . They embraced and pounded each other on the
back like schoolboys. John felt a
lightening of spirit like nothing he had felt in the last month.
“Devon, I was convinced that you were dead,” exclaimed John, “It is so
good to welcome you back—and welcome you back to our victory. Your father told you?”
“Yes,” Devon smiled, “Perodus has
certainly felt the Dragon’s sting, but he also felt the Fox’s bite. Like you, death hounded me from the moment I
left the court on Arienth. I was
fortunate more than once to retain my life.
My Prince, I also come to you in victory. I rid the Empire of one of Maricus’ betrayers
and, out of Arienth, within the bowels of Perodus’ security, I secured
information that may add immeasurably to your victory. I just returned from Arienth, where Sir Roger
Falkeep and I acquired the Emperor’s campaign plans.”
John-Mark stared at Devon for a long
moment, then he clapped him on the shoulders, “You are not called the Fox for
nothing. My friend you deliver the
ultimate victory to our forces.”
John
immediately envisioned the perfection of his own plans, “That is exactly the
key I was searching for.” Then in a
whisper, he said to Devon , “Perodus must and
will pay dearly.”
“Count Acier,” Devon addressed Ian,
“Sir Roger carries laser disks containing not only the Emperor’s strategic
plans, but our own opinions, derived from direct observations of the Emperor’s
capital and forces.”
Ian gratefully took the packet Roger proffered to him, and in his
broadly accented voice said, “You could not have come at a better time
gentlemen; we must soon make a choice as to our future plans. While our fleet holds together, we have the
capability to strike. We only need a
target.”
“I think you will find one there,” said Devon .
“Come, Devon , we must introduce you to
the leadership of the Houses of our rebellion,” John grasped his arm.
John led the group through a set of large double doors into Acier’s
council chamber. Every man in the
crowded room craned to view their entrance, and an excited buzz filled the
large chamber. John’s hopes brightened
immediately. Their leaders recognized
the Fox. He noted the information sweep
thorough the long chamber. It passed in
whispers even between the different Houses.
This demonstrated the greatest unity he observed in them in days.
Count
Acier’s Hall was the perfect place for this meeting. Even the Hall of Accords would have
represented too new and polished a setting.
The fierce barbarity, the mediaeval splendor of Ian’s court was like a linchpin
in these men’s minds. The place fitted
in their hearts, accentuating their emotions and martial honor.
As
Devon and John-Mark strode into the room, out
of the corner of his eye, John observed that his companion was outfitted in
military splendor. Devon
was arrayed in the uniform of a Huscarl Major that normally meant little when
the drapue of a prince covered a man’s shoulders. Indeed, the many campaign ribbons and medals,
the emblem of a Knight of the Red Cross set the Fox apart from the most
outstanding warriors here. His uniform
and those badges were indications of consummate military skill, but they
covered more honorable emblems; the physical scars of numerous skirmishes. Devon Rathenberg’s lithe form moved slowly,
almost painfully, but with a warrior’s grace, and every man here realized
battle wounds decorated the Fox once again.
The
chief nobility of the Houses Neuterra, Centri, Reinland, Anas, Deneb, El
Rashad, Aurora
The men were still flush with their victory, but a deep sense of discord
filled them. They were at odds with the
Empire and themselves. They sought
reunification with the other Houses and their Emperor, yet they would accept
the Emperor’s authority again only on their own terms.
John
slowly led Devon to the front of the long
hall. Devon ’s
father, the Duke walked beside them while Count Acier trailed a pace
behind.
“Devon,” John-Mark carefully watched his friend’s face as he whispered
at his side, “Devon , you would not have
believed the cry of anger that rose when Perodus reported your death. They love you. They respect you. I betrayed these men into the hands of the
Empire. I am partly to blame for the
state they find themselves.” His fingers
dug into Devon ’s arm. “Devon , my
friend, my brother. If Perodus were to
die tomorrow, I would not be a welcome man in the Iron Throne. You, on the other hand, would be. You are the Fox. These men know you not by feature but by
reputation. You are even more beloved
and known than I. They cried for you;
wailing filled the Houses of the Landsritters the night your death was
announced. And Devon ,
you look like a Prince. Don’t say that
makes no difference, you are a Prince.
You can hear their murmurs of approval as we walk to the place of
honor. These men would instate you as
Emperor tonight if your father said the words.
When our Houses were first banned, your father, Count Acier, and I decided
on this course of action. When Perodus
told of your death, we though all hope was lost, but you are here. And you are the glue to hold together the
cause of the banned Houses. Without you,
they would have to depend only on a despot like my brother or a manipulator
like me.”
John expected his response. He
grasped Devon ’s arm more intensely, “This
isn’t about what you want or don’t want.
This is the reality of this moment and the need of the Empire. After this night, you will be the Crown
Prince of the Empire. You must face
that. If you do not accept the regency,
the rebellion will fail. I can fight for
it until death takes me, your father can provide leadership, Count Acier can
give us wealth and knowledge, but only you can bring honor and rule to this
enclave. Without you, we are all
traitors; we fight against the rightful rulership. With you, we can claim the honor of the House
Haupenburg and House Rathenberg. You are
the tie. You are the legitimacy in our
defiance.”
When John reached the end of the table, he gently sat Devon
into the chair at the head and again whispered, “Look like an Emperor, that is
all I ask.”
Devon
Rathenberg composed himself. His
actions, the bite of anger in his eyes made him look nothing if more
princely. The Nobles half expected this
action from John-Mark. They approved of
it completely.
By
the time John and Devon reached the head of
the table, the hall was absolutely quiet.
Not the sound of a cough or the sigh of a breath could be heard. John-Mark raised his arms. “Nobles of the Landsritters,” he paused, “I
present before you Devon Rathenberg, Count of Gran Stern, Knight of the Red
Cross, Chief of Imperial Intelligence, and Crown Prince to the Iron Throne of
the Human Empire.” He paused, then
continued with a finality, his words flowing like liquid from a broken vessel,
“Before you, I abdicate my rights to the Throne and place the regency into the
hands of Prince Devon Rathenberg. Nobles
listen to your Prince: the man of honor, the Fox now holds the honor of the
Noblesse.”
A murmur of approval rose in the hall.
Duke Centri spoke out, “This is Devon Rathenberg, the young Fox?”
If a prince willingly gives up his
power and rank, he becomes a pathetic character. Before this, John-Mark lost his love, Lyral
Neterra, his father and his family. He
is indeed a pathos building character.
He is not as great a pathos building character as some of the other
examples I showed you, but he builds pathos.
In large measure, this is why I started the novel with Lyral’s death—I wanted
to begin on a pathos strain. That strain
continued through the novel. It is about
the loss of honor. Thus, I am using the
same types of tools in my science fiction as my historical fiction. The difference is the power of the projection
of the tools. Men and princes make great
Romantic characters—they are but poor pathetic characters. We’ll look at The Fox’s Honor next.
More
tomorrow.
For more information, you can visit my
author site http://www.ldalford.com/, and my individual novel websites:
http://www.ancientlight.com/
http://www.aegyptnovel.com/
http://www.centurionnovel.com
http://www.thesecondmission.com/
http://www.theendofhonor.com/
http://www.thefoxshonor.com
http://www.aseasonofhonor.com
fiction, theme, plot, story, storyline,
character development, scene, setting, conversation, novel, book, writing,
information, study, marketing, tension, release, creative, idea, logic
http://www.aegyptnovel.com/
http://www.centurionnovel.com
http://www.thesecondmission.com/
http://www.theendofhonor.com/
http://www.thefoxshonor.com
http://www.aseasonofhonor.com
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