2 January 2019, Writing - part
x726, Writing a Novel, Fleshing Out Characters, The Ninth Day of Christmas
Announcement: Delay, my new novels can be seen on the internet, but my primary
publisher has gone out of business—they couldn’t succeed in the past business
and publishing environment. I'll keep you informed, but I need a new publisher. 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.
These are the steps I use to write a
novel including the five discrete parts of 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
I
finished writing my 29th novel, working title, Detective, potential title
Blue Rose: Enchantment and the Detective. The theme statement is: Lady Azure Rose
Wishart, the Chancellor of the Fae, supernatural detective, and all around
dangerous girl, finds love, solves cases, breaks heads, and plays golf.
Here is the cover proposal for Blue
Rose: Enchantment and the Detective.
|
|
Cover
Proposal
|
The most important scene in any
novel is the initial scene, but eventually, you have to move to the rising
action. I am continuing to write on my 30th novel, working
title Red Sonja. I finished my 29th novel, working
title Detective. I’m planning to start on number 31, working
title Shifter.
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.
For novel 30: 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.
For novel 31: TBD
Here
is the scene development outline:
1.
Scene input (comes from the previous scene output or is an initial scene)
2.
Write the scene setting (place, time, stuff, and characters)
3.
Imagine the output, creative elements, plot, telic flaw resolution (climax) and
develop the tension and release.
4.
Write the scene using the output and creative elements to build the tension.
5.
Write the release
6.
Write the kicker
Today: Why don’t we go back
to the basics and just writing a novel?
I can tell you what I do, and show you how I go about putting a novel
together. We can start with developing
an idea then move into the details of the writing.
You
must have a protagonist and an antagonist. You may have a protagonist’s
helper. Then there are other
characters. Let’s talk about characters
in general and then specifically.
I’ve
been writing about choosing and developing protagonists who are interesting and
entertaining to your readers. Readers
like characters who they can intellectually identify with. These are the characters who appeal to
them. If there is no intellectual
connection, there is usually no connection.
We saw this by the many characters whom readers can’t share any or many
characteristics, but the characters still appeal.
For
the Christmas Season, I guess I’m giving you scenes from my novels. Merry and Happy Christmas. Hope you enjoy. This is a Christmas scene from Deirdre: Enchantment and the School. I don’t think I’ve ever given this to you.
Deirdre and Chris MacLeod continued
to dance until the orchestra took their first break. Just as Chris predicted, Mr. MacLeod stepped
deliberately to where Deirdre and Chris stood.
Kathrin Calloway and Mrs. MacLeod followed close behind him. He gave a slight bow, “Ms. Calloway, I freely
admit, I asked you to our Christmas revelry with ulterior motives.”
Deirdre’s eyes widened. Older men had never bowed to her, and she
wasn’t sure how to take ulterior motives.
Mr. MacLeod continued, “I understand
you are a professional musician. Your
mother assured me concerning your usual contract rates. I would like to hire you to sing some
Christmas songs at our fete. I
understand you have a wonderful program already prepared. In fact, I gave the music to our orchestra
yesterday and they assured me they could play to your very exacting standards.”
Deirdre began to respond, but Mr.
MacLeod raised his finger, “The second reason I asked you here is to test your
metal, so to speak. Chris has had so
many wonderful things to say about you, I must say, I was unconvinced. Until I heard you sing the Messiah, I would
have said he was exaggerating. As a
matter of fact, at this point, I wonder exactly what you see in my son.”
Chris cried out, “Father.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m joking.
A bit of British humor there, and I’m Scottish. I’m very proud of my son, but he is still
fifteen and still not entirely used to the potential limelight of a woman of
your caliber and upbringing. Please sing
for us. That in itself would be very
pleasant.”
Deirdre cleared her throat to
respond. Her mind was moving as fast as
usual. She smiled very pleasantly, “Mr.
MacLeod, could I offer a Christmas medley as a gift to your family?”
Mrs. Calloway cut her off with a firm
gesture, “One moment. I wish to speak to
Deirdre privately.”
Mr. MacLeod stepped to the side. Chris reluctantly moved with him.
Deirdre clenched her fists. She squinted and raised her lip, “What is it
mother?”
Mrs. Calloway came very close and put
her arms around Deirdre. She whispered,
“Luna told me I should slap you every time you do that. This time I shan’t.”
Deirdre stiffened.
“You know what that means, don’t you
dear?”
“It means you are treating me like an
adult.”
“Excellent. Now, here is what you must consider. Your costs at school have been rather high
this semester.”
“That’s because I have been taking
care of my friends.”
“I understand that too. Luna told me—well, she did after our little
meeting with the Queen. I wondered how such a frugal girl could rack up such
high expenses.”
“Are they really that high?”
“No, but I wish to place some adult
pressure on you. So far, you have had
most everything you could ever want or need.
As I said, you are a frugal girl, but an adult must consider the costs
of friendship and life.”
Deirdre choked, “You want me to give
up on Sorcha—you’ll take care of her needs, won’t you?”
“My sweet Deirdre, I want you to face
the consequences of your actions. They
are wonderful, but they are yours alone.
I love that you have taken care of Sorcha and Elaina.”
“Luna narked on me.”
“Yes she did, and I’m very
proud. However…”
Deirdre steeled herself.
“However, I would like you to pick up
the tab for your friends. You may take
care of them as much as you desire, but with your funds. A little singing at your normal rates will go
a long way this semester. In fact, the
pay you received from Father Malloy will further bolster that your little
fund.”
“I was going to give it all back to
Father Malloy for the widow’s and orphan’s relief fund.”
“Sorcha and Eliana both are missing
parents—they are orphans. Which one do
you wish to support, those unseen or your friends.”
Deirdre smiled, “Mother, perhaps I
never listened quite as well as I should to you, but you are forcing me to
sing…”
“I’m not forcing you to do
anything. I’m simply pointing out
realities to you and giving you a choice.”
“I see. You must not let Sorcha or Elaina know.”
“Never. This is our private understanding. Plus, my sweet, you want independence. I can’t give you any greater independence.” She started to pull back, but then hugged
Deirdre closer, “One more thing. I like
this Chris MacLeod very much. He is a
gentleman and has a wonderful future.”
She did pull back and stared in Deirdre’s eyes with a half-smile, “Don’t
take that to be a license or permission.
Do you understand me?”
“Yes, mother.”
“Your ball, in your court.”
Deirdre sighed, but she didn’t mean
much by it. She stepped toward Mr.
MacLeod with Mrs. Calloway at her side.
She nodded to the gentleman, “Mr. MacLeod, I accept your terms. My standard fees. I do wish to warn you—the press is here and
that might cause undo attention to your family and mine.”
Mr. MacLeod tried not to smile too
broadly, “Your mother explained everything to me. I accept your conditions and understand the
circumstances.”
Deirdre shrugged, “When would you
like me to sing?”
“Do you need any preparation?”
“I need to speak to the conductor and
the orchestra.”
“Very well. They are on their break.” He glanced at his watch, “They should be
returning in a couple of minutes.” He
sounded almost military, “You may brief them as you desire. I shall announce you, myself.” He began to turn, then swiveled back to her,
“One thing. Do you need a mic or other
equipment?”
“My mother likely told you, I don’t
need a mic for this room or this size of an orchestra. I was the only singer not miced during the
Messiah performance.”
Mr. MacLeod’s eyes widened, “My
word. I didn’t realize.”
Chris returned to Deirdre’s
side. He followed her as she made her
way to the orchestra’s seating. She
waited beside the conductor’s stand.
Chris came close, “You don’t need to
accede to my father’s whims. Especially
if it will cause you problems our upset you.”
She pressed his hand, “Don’t
worry. I won’t hold anything against you. Plus, I am asserting my independence, and
it’s wonderful.”
Chris looked oddly at her.
The conductor came first followed
slowly by the rest of the musicians. He
gave a terse bow to Deirdre as though she was a slight nuisance, “You are Ms.
Calloway? I understand you will be
singing with us.”
That was the last look of
impertinence he gave her. Deirdre began
conversing about the music with him. The
score was relatively simple, the music was not.
Deirdre moved quickly through it explaining exactly what she
wanted. When she finished, the man
looked her over again to check that he was speaking to a fifteen year old. He even said it loudly enough for the front
row of the orchestra to hear it, “Ms. Calloway, I understand you are a student
at Wycombe.”
The concertmeister heard it and waved
the conductor over, “Michael, this girl is D.
Don’t you recognize her?”
The conductor glanced back at
Deirdre, “You don’t mean that girl.”
“Yes, exactly, she’s that girl. She sang three seasons with the London
Philharmonic.”
“She does know her music.”
“You better tell the rest of the
musicians. She could upstage all of us,
and she probably will.”
The conductor got a strange look on
his face. He returned to his stand and went back over Deirdre’s instructions
with her. Then he turned to the
orchestra and explained it to them. He
started with, “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we will be playing for D. I think many of you will recognize her
name. She looks young but is a
professional classical singer who has sung with many orchestras. These are her specific instructions.” He went through Deirdre’s requirements for
the score. The moment he said her name,
almost every musician took out their pencils to take down his remarks. Those who didn’t immediately were frantically
elbowed by their neighbors.
When the concertmeister stood to tune
them, he remarked, “D is one of the most exacting performers I have ever worked
with. You will be expected to follow
exactly as she has specified.”
The members of the orchestra licked
their lips and nodded.
When the conductor didn’t say
anything, the concertmeister continued to Deirdre, “Ms. D, do you have any
specific instructions for us?”
Deirdre raised her chin, “I do. I can handle your volume at fortissimo, but
you must follow my instructions for the softer parts especially the brass and
the flutes. I noticed your pianissimo
was particularly loud. I need the
contrast especially in those softer phrases.
If you will listen to me, we will provide an excellent performance
together.” She curtsied to them.
The concertmaiester glared at the
brass and the flautists, “I noticed that myself. Now, ladies and gentleman if you will…” He nodded to the oboist. She provided a concert “A,” and they tuned to
the note.
Deirdre stepped in front of the
conductor. Mr. MacLeod was waiting for
her signal. She waved to him.
Mr. MacLeod held a hand mic, “Ladies
and gentlemen.” The guests slowly
quieted. When he had their attention, he
continued, “Ladies and gentlemen. Ms.
Deirdre Calloway, one of my special guests this evening has consented to
provide us a Christmas concert of song.
She is better known in the performance community as the singer D. I am happy and proud to announce that she has
acquiesced to entertain us tonight.”
The beginning of a gentle applause
started. The applause grew as people
began to whisper about just who D was.
The press moved from the back of the room near the entrance where they
could record the incoming attendees to where they could see Deirdre and hear
her.
Deirdre’s voice suddenly filled the
ballroom. Everyone was astounded. She held nothing in her hands and she
obviously didn’t wear any sound equipment.
The entire room became immediately quiet. Deirdre raise her hands, “Since this is a
Christmas medley, please join me for the songs you know. With the backing of this wonderful group of
musicians, I will attempt to present to you the spirit of Christmas.” She nodded to the conductor. Then she hit the first note of the Coventry
Carol before the orchestra and held it for a moment. Her voice was clear and pure. The orchestra began a note behind her. Her tone and pitch was exact. At first a few scattered voices began to sing
with her, but those quieted almost immediately.
Her voice sounded so delightful and with such warmth no one could
continue. They had to hear her. They felt compelled to listen with their ears
and with their hearts. The members of
the orchestra were dumbfounded. They had
never heard such power before, unmiced, and right in front of them. They became lost in the music
themselves. It was as if she transported
them to a new place. Even the most
jaundiced and experienced felt that she was guiding them. They watched the conductor, but they listened
to her clear sweet voice as it ranged the octaves. She sang deep, but strongly and high but
exact. She sang with no fancy warbling
or inarticulate movements in her pitch.
She played with the music and the score turning the melody into waves of
beautiful sound punctuated with exact words.
Her phrasing was so perfect the wind instruments wondered if they could
keep up. She held notes long beyond
their own control without a reduction of loudness or tone.
Deirdre didn’t give her audience or
orchestra time for applause or breath.
She moved to the Carol of the Bells.
It sounded as though she made the words ring like bells themselves. And from bells moved to Ding Dong Merrily on
High. The room listened, fascinated,
entranced by her voice. The orchestra
faded into almost oblivion as her voice rose above them like a bird lifting a
pitch exactly and precisely in the driving rhythm of the piece. She sang the First Noel in English, then in
French. She raised her pitch an octave
and the concertmeister swore he could feel her voice echoing in his strings. Her, What Child is This brought many to
tears. She sang them all—all their
favorites like they had never heard them before. The journalists scribbled in quick moments,
but put their pens down to absorb her every word and musical note. Deirdre finished with Lo a Rose Now Blooming,
perhaps the most difficult song in rhythm and timbre. She held the last note beyond the
orchestra. She held it long and clear
and solid until the only sound in the enormous ballroom was hers. Then she allowed it to slowly die.
No one moved. No one said a word. Then the applause erupted. It went on and on. Deirdre quietly curtsied. She took the hand of the conductor and raised
it up. He was slightly
shell-shocked. She released his hand and
motioned to the orchestra, as a single organism, every one of them rose. They bowed and curtsied. She curtsied to them. The concertmeister began to call, “Bravo,
bravo.” The rest of the orchestra took
it up.
Someone from the crowd called,
“Encore.” And many others copied the request.
The concertmeister glanced at the conductor, until he finally regained
his composure. The conductor raised his
hands. The guests quieted slowly. His voice wasn’t as strong or as grand as
Deirdre’s he pronounced belatedly, “I’m not sure we can follow that up with
anything. I too would like to hear Ms.
D. sing again, but I would like to hear her voice without any accompaniment to
take any attention from it.”
The concertmeister nodded sagely and
sat. The orchestra sat.
Deirdre nodded. She began to sing alone this time, Oh Come Oh
Come Emanuel. When she finished, the
applause filled the ballroom again. This
time the conductor came and took her hand.
He bowed to her. She curtsied to
the crowd.
Mr. MacLeod took the mic again,
“Thank you Ms. Deirdre Calloway for a beautiful performance.” As almost an afterthought he added, “And to
our wonderful orchestra.”
Chris came over and took Deirdre’s
hand he led her to the side of the room and handed her a drink. He couldn’t find anything to say to her. He just stared at her with a large smile and
glistening eyes. Until Deirdre punched
him. It wasn’t a very hard punch, “Don’t
get all squishy on me. I’ll beat you at
pistols this next season.”
“That you shall. That you shall.”
Then her well-wishers and the press
descended on her.
Deirdre didn’t have a chance to speak
to the MacLeods that night. She barely
had another opportunity to speak to Chris.
She returned home reasonably happy, but she didn’t get the kiss she
wanted and thought she deserved.
This
is a fun novel that I hope is published soon.
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
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
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