Games

I'm about to head off to the beach for a much needed day to decompress, but I thought I'd scribble something down here before I ran out the door.

Making up a game from scratch is tough. Anytime you need to come up with something thats dictated by a set of finite rules, where there is an invariable chance to screw things up so that when read carefully the actions don't make sense.... trouble arrises. I bring this up because building a board game, a very important one at that, is something I found myself doing earlier this week. I just got through a scene where two of our big characters had something very important to them on the line, and the only way to win was to take a gamble - play a game of Pandora's box. To tell you the truth, when I thought of this I had zero idea what the devil this game was going to be like, but, it seemed a natural and necessary evil. I'm still not sure if I managed to get all the kinks worked out or not, but it is definitely a chapter I'll have to revisit in some length in the future.

And I'm off.

Check in

Have no fear, I'm still here! For all intensive purposes at least. Over the past few months I've found myself peculiarly stagnant in the creative department, and not just in the written form. O well, it's time to move forward. Every now and again I find myself scribbling down random tidbits relating to our story, and hopefully in a week or two those crumbs of information will coalesce into something a bit more filling. So now that I've plastered that claim on the world wide web, I MUST follow through!

Till next time.

The Domino effect

It's funny how much can be hinged on the most indiscriminate of details. I've been stuck on some tiny, miniscule, insignificant point for so long that once I climbed over it's metaphorical carapace, the floodgates of inspiration sprung forth like an avalanche. And then five minutes later they slammed in my face. Hard. Adamantium hard. So here I sit, sombre and flustered, trying to scale another miniscule detail. It's hilarious really, beautiful irony, and it seems to be the crux of the writing process. This domino effect, this metered success syndrome, permeates the very idea of inspiration. It's here, its there, you catch it on the breeze or you catch it on a whim, but it's never at your beck and call. Everyone knows that though, so it's not really much of an epiphany. It's like a jail brake - the doors swing wide for just a few seconds, long enough for you to gain some ground, but without fail, every time, that guard catches you and chucks you back in the slammer. Could be worse - at least this way there's time to sit and think.

Reincarnation

My goodness, can this be true? Is this really another post after weeks and weeks of literary drought? It indeed is! And my what a loaded post it will be. Not loaded as in long and drawn out, not long and listless like a fat full snake, but more concept heavy than anything. As I wasted my life away repetitively pressing the stumble button in the top left hand corner of my internet window, I ended up in a tripping on a curious story about life, death, the human population, and the universe being an egg. Yes. An egg. Regardless of the peculiar metaphor, it was a compelling read. The short story focused on the idea that all of mankind is the same person, just reincarnated over and over again, thrust into different times, different situations, all for the sake of eventually maturing into a god. This all got me thinking - how do I feel about reincarnation? I vow to stay as far away from the whole spinning of the wheel that Robert Jordan uses throughout his brilliant epic, but I wonder how I could tackle the idea of reincarnating dead gods in a human society.

I understand that the phrase "dead gods" is a bit of a paradox, keeping their immortality and such in mind, but I must say that if the gods were to war, somebody's going to die. Furthermore, it would be completely irrational to believe that such a powerful existence could simply VANISH - depreciate, yes, but not vanish. While I'm playing this pinball game of ideas, I can't help but bring Zeus and the pantheon into the conversation. When Zeus and his siblings took over from their parents, the titans, were they not able to bring them down? Were they not able to slay the greater Gods? Once again, slay may not exactly be the most appropriate word, but its what we've got to work with at this point. Slay, kill, execute...death in general.. the words all deal with the idea of mortality and the thought that when the grim reaper comes, its all over. Gods don't just die. But when they're..taken out so to speak..where do their spirits go?

A bunch of malarkey

Things have been a bit odd around here lately - I wouldn't say that I've got writers block, but I can tell you all that the story has come to a crossroads. Zuriel and Tarlin are preparing for a journey, an important one at that, but for the life of me I can't figure out how to get them started. My mind has thus decided that the journey is irrelevant and that it should instead focus on Loki. If I was any other writer, this would be a normal situation (apparently quite a few authors write bits and pieces here and there and then fill in the blanks), but for me its a quasi apocalypse. I'm a big fan of following the timeline and I begin to feel a bit unsettled whenever I have to venture of the beaten path - It's like I've gone time traveling and my return to the present is up in the air. A vast cornucopia of movies have illustrated the sticky situations that this time traveling business can bring and I must say, it's quite intimidating! Hopefully, I won't have to reverse engineer a stainless steel car to run on train tracks to make it back to the present... but I digress. To me, this skipping around in the story is a bunch of malarkey, but it would seem that, at present, malarkey is what I've got to work with.

Maasai

Nine times out of ten, a fantasy novel depicts a world full of civilized people that are constantly under the threats of the war hardened, desert-tested "savages". You could say that writers are predisposed to placing these people into their work, creating some sort of extra tinder to fuel the flames of dissent, war and strife throughout their world - I can't say I blame them. These groups add mystique, create a greater feeling of the unknown and help further the validity of said universe. Furthermore, these "savages" always turn out to be far more civilized, advanced, and wise than they've been given credit for.

The Maasai warriors have always piqued my interest, from their religious beliefs to the patriarchal structure of their society. Fierce warriors, diligent cattle herders, and ceremonially strict individuals, the Maasai would be right at home in the world of Hierarchy. These brave people will serve as a model, a base mold, for the culture that I'm striving to create.

Happy new year!

Well folks, it seems as though blogging while home for the holidays was a near impossible endeavor. As you all can see... I didn't get much done. But, seeing as though I've been re-introduced to my self inflicted exile, words will soon flow from my finger tips like insults from Jeramy Clarkson's oversized British maw.

As I mentioned last post, a certain Loki Blodweud has been begging to be introduced. A peculiar fellow, and quite a mischievous one at that, his name hales from both Celtic and Norse mythology. I'm sure many of you are aware that the name Loki belongs to the Norse God of trickery, a fellow who switches his allegiances on a regular basis and can't decide which lot to throw his cards in with. As I said, quite a peculiar fellow. Blodweud isn't much better - the name hails from the Celtic/Welsh myth about a woman, made of magic and flowers, who has an affair while her husband is away and tricks her lover into murdering him. There's a bit more to the story but, in short, she's a representation of deceit.

A rabid gambler, an intelligent yet careless individual, an honor-less and morally broke thief, Loki Blodweud is about as predictable as the wind and as trustworthy as a drunken dog. Indispensable, irresponsible, and completely irrational, Loki will long stand by Zuriel, more than happy to supply ample reason for headaches and certain hypertension.

Through with chapter two!

For now, chapter two is complete. Complete, like good and evil, is an objective term however...like with chapter one, I'm betting that the next time I take a look at chapter two I'll start to revise, rewrite, and add to it considerably. But thats a bit farther down the path. I've found a great name to replace Abaddon (one without satanic origin) and its definition is even more fitting than "to destroy" - and not as corny.

Abaddon's replacement is Asteraoth; an angel, already a stand out in the crowd of riders, Asteraoth supposedly "thwarts power". Who better to play a judge, an enforcer and stickler for the rules, than one who thwarts power? Hopefully, he'll gain a little angelic sense of duty from his namesake and will remain impartial, even if the other riders begin to falter. He may become blinded by justice every now and then, his good judgement tossed to the wind if someone does something wrong...but I think Asteraoth's got the potential to really be a key character.

The world of Hierarchy is starting to grow and with every inch of ground it gains, a few characters come to light...two of which I've yet to mention. One I'll hold out on discussing till I finalize what role he may play, and the other I'll explain soon. In the next post, I'll introduce to you Loki Blodweud, our residential joker and thief in the night.

The Leviathan

I spent a bit of time trying to figure out names for my 4 horsemen - after a bit of trial and error, I've named the majority. I tediously scoured the web for the names of all the fallen angels (paradise lost helped a bit here), and eventually came out with some good, useful names with meanings actually applicable to plot and character persona! However....I'm still on the prowl for rider number four. Rider number four is actually..well, he's number one in the hierarchy of riders so to speak, a leader whose superiority is unspoken, unchallenged, and simply understood.

I had a name for him that I thought quite apt: Abaddon. It roughly means "to destroy" and I figured that with a name like that, there was no way another rider would try to usurp him...this was until a friend informed me that Abaddon is a particularly bad fallen angel who is regularly worshiped in satanic rings... said friend watches allot of history channel specials, particularly about free masons, so I didn't really question exactly WHY he was so informed... Anyhow, Abaddon is now far far away from Hierarchy. As to the rest of the riders, I've come up with Bathin, Gadreel, and Valefor - thankfully, none of them are the points of worship for those satanic people out there and all of their definitions are pretty vague (which, blissfully, leaves much up to my artistic interpretation).

Bathin is described as the fallen angel who rides a pale horse, Gadreel meaning "God is my helper" and Valefor, a fallen angel who appears as a "many headed lion". I'm quite pleased with myself here - with these little snippets, I've got enough info to really base a character off of yet, the're still all my own. The only conundrum I've found myself with, other than the last riders name, is how to have them interact with Zuriel and Tarlin. Social contract theory would say that the Leviathan has to be the absolute power and governor, the absolute enforcer, and as a result, a neutral party. I don't really fancy making them impartial...I need some unfathomable, evil force tromping around.

We'll see how things turn out. If anything, I could make two groups of riders, 4 light and 4 dark (keeping in mind that good and evil are objective terms), constantly waring with each other while enforcing the rules of Hierarchy on their own terms. I suppose it depends on how big of characters I want my riders to be. Once again, only time will tell.

Possesed

I was possessed. Like a wolf on the hunt, I was possessed. Last week, I believe it was Friday, I picked up a copy of Robert Jordan's Towers of Midnight - and I was gone. Lost to this world, syphoned off into another, I had disappeared.

Every second of my free time, up to about 30 minutes ago, was spent with that book. And I enjoyed every second of it. Besides the pleasure of jumping back into a world I've grown to love, traveling through Towers of Midnight let me take a step back and really evaluate the world of Hierarchy. Studying, if I can even call it that, the character development that the Wheel of Time series does so well has set my mind a fire. Ladies and gentlemen, we now have a third protagonist.

So we've got a new character...what else? Towers of Midnight gave me perspective. Something that has plagued my mind for some time has been the question of length - how on gods green earth am I supposed to have enough material for a 300-500 odd page book? Other than describing every single stone in the world of Hierarchy so thoroughly that readers would come after me with flaming sticks and large, ugly looking pitchforks...I had no clue. But now I do!! For a story to be truly encompassing and in order to make a real case for an alternate reality, there needs to be a vast collection of detailed characters. I know...once again I've somehow managed to state the most obvious thing in the world. It's true though...the character thing. Tower's of midnight changed focus every chapter, always switching from one character to the next. By using this technique, not just in Towers but in every single Wheel of Time novel, Jordan made the world believable. I don't just mean his characters believable...I mean his ENTIRE WORLD.

The whole is the sum of its parts, and in order for the whole to really seem complete, all of the parts need to be visible. Hopefully, as I push on and persevere through the darkness of the unknown, through the shadows of Hierarchy, the people I need will show themselves. Random events, unexpected discoveries, and enlightening details are bound to find themselves into my life and with every little tidbit that comes my way, someone new will be born. The main protagonists are all here, all thats left are those in between. And hell, there's a whole bunch of them.

Apocalypse

The four riders of the apocalypse have been galloping around in my head recently....as to why, I'm not totally certain. Premonition? I hope not.

Conquest, war, famine and death usually pop up in epic fantasies at an alarming rate but rarely are they personified. In fact, more often then not these signs of impending doom serve as vehicles for character development and absolute necessities to plot. I know I know.... obvious right? The point I'm getting to is that I've been admiring the IDEA of the four horsemen rather than what they foreshadow, of the four physical entities that serve as a final battalion themselves. Because, in truth, thats what they are - the final wave of cavalry.

This whole business of the four riders translates, as far as Hierarchy is concerned, into a band of enforcers. Thomas Hobbes wrote about the "leviathan" in 1651 and used this idea to illustrate social contract theory - a theory which I am too lazy to fully explain. In short, Hobbes stated that chaos and civil wars could only be avoided by a strong central government or some sort of enforcer - a leviathan.

The Hierarchy needs a leviathan, and its looking like there will be four of them.

Deadlines

In the future, I think I'm going to stay away from saying things like "chapter two will be done by next friday". These things just don't happen. Wishful thinking isn't the word... hopeful isn't either...lets just go with misinformed.

My misinformed self can be somewhat delusional. But no more! A good friend told me to write at my own pace, for these words are my own. This is brilliance. Not to say that I won't be setting goals for myself... I just won't be publicizing them.

Logistics aside, the Wheel of Time series has just released a knew book: Towers of Midnight. I mention this only because this series, written by the late Robert Jordan, was the original inspiration for my writing. The world that Jordan created was so in depth, so interesting, so full of people I wish I could meet... its a world that I have come to know and love. I've reread all 11 of his books on multiple occasions and I can't help but revel in his genius. Not just his genius for story, but also for the voice that he carries throughout his writing.

Torr fantasy put a chapter from Towers of Midnight online about a month ago as a way to reward the multitudes of fans for their support - I've spent hours dissecting this thing and studying just how Jordan writes. Trying to find my voice in my writing, my own fluid style and signature, is no easy feat - I'm hoping that going over Jordan's writing will help guide me.

So far, it's helped, but at the same time its got me second guessing myself every step of the way. Remove this word here, change sentence structure there...delete this and that..start over here and there... it's frustrating. But good. I suppose, in order to grow, I need more practice. I need to write more. And soon! This here is a story itching to spring from my mind to the paper. The skills aren't there quite yet..but they will come with time.

Progress!

Chapter two is currently about half way done and so far, the course of events that passed through Tarlin's eyes in chapter one have now been illustrated through Zuriel's view. Due to my overzealous amount of description, chapter two is shaping up to be considerably longer than its forerunner; this is good considering chapter one was "short and sweet".

With only a few bullet points left to hit, the rest of the chapter will serve to introduce our two protagonists to each other and to paint a bright, vivid, flashing illustration of the world of Hierarchy. Hopefully, if God smiles on me and the muse is close at hand, the chapter should be finished circa next week friday.

Chapter two update

Apologies for the lackadaisical posting, my mind has been elsewhere this past week.

Chapter two is coming along nicely, but the nature of the scene is forcing me to take things slowly. I'm finding myself struggling with slowing things down enough so that I have a substantial body of description before the main events begin. As I mentioned before, chapter two is, in essence, chapter one from Zuriel's point of view and serves a dual purpose.

Chapter two gives a description of Zuriel in his rawest form; not yet delving too deep into his mind, the chapter serves to illustrate a few of his core principles, worries, thoughts and vices. Along with this gritty introduction, chapter two serves to illustrate the Court from an outsiders point of view. Drafting an in depth picture of the heartwood, chapter two shows just how vivid, showy, and out of place the Court truly is. From the Thuin's point of view the Court is a piece of art, a natural beauty that melds perfectly with the natural world...but to those outside, it's a vivid reminder of the Thuin's alien nature.

Innocence

Over the past couple of weeks, every single 8 am literature class of mine has gone over some poem regarding the loss of innocence. Innocence disappears with time, innocence goes away as we age, certain events in our life causes a loss of innocence - it goes on and on. All of these poems, in essence, have the same message - loosing your innocence is part of growing up; Poe even goes so far as to suggest that the loss of innocence leads to the loss of imagination (I'm not a big fan of this idea).

How does this garble have anything to do with Hierarchy you ask?? Well, not much really but it's intriguing. The whole deal got me thinking about the evolution of an immortal - how do you suggest an immortal ages? If old age doesn't kill you, if disease has no affect on you, how would your body go about physically maturing? It's quite the conundrum actually - and this conundrum directly correlates to Hierarchy.

How the devil am I supposed to craft an appearance for someone who is hundreds of years old but won't ever die? As far as eternity goes, anyone under 1000 had got to be young...hell, if were talking about eternity, then everyone is young! So would that give the character the appearance of a child? Adolescent? Young adult? What a headache.

The gentle kiss of a flame

As I sat in my apartment today, I found myself staring into the little feisty flame burning atop my candle. Transfixed, I picked up the candle and started to play with the flame.

After a few minutes of quickly moving my finger through the little fire, I began to notice that the flame had a peculiar feeling - strange as it was, it felt like it had mass. But how could something like fire have mass? Every time I passed my finger through, it felt like the flame "licked" me - licked me.

Fire has so long stood as a symbol of life, a symbol of prosperity and knowledge - fire is something that man, and man's modern civilization, could never do without. What if fire was actually alive? What if fire, regardless of its shy, coy, and often silent nature, had a mind of its own? Personally, I think something that has stood for so long and so resiliently as a symbol of life must be alive itself. It's often stubborn, not starting when we want it to, and it moves in the wind like a belly dancer on a stage; sounds alive to me. A funny thing fire.

I think fire has just earned itself a special place in the Hierarchy.

Three Spheres

For reasons I have yet to figure out, I found myself contemplating the hierarchy of the angels this weekend. Truth be told, its fascinating.

A friend of mine told me a while back to pick up a book called Paradise Lost, the story of Lucifer's fall and the battle of the Angels - I fully intend to do this soon. Paradise Lost outlines the different stations in the hierarchy of angels, from the "lowly" angels to the high and mighty seraphim and talks about the three different "spheres" to which they belong.

The intricacy, scope, and detail of the angelical hierarchy is stunning. Every single angel has a duty, every angel has reason for being. They play vital roles in human society, serving as guardians, guides, muses....the angels were everything and anything. And they rarely showed (show?) themselves.

Influential? Indeed. Game changing? I doubt it. The hierarchy of angels has given me something to think about, something to research and contemplate while I write, but the Hierarchy won't change because of it. However, it may give birth to some interesting ideas.

Shadow dance

Sorry about the lack of post yesterday - chemistry was occupying my life at the time.

Last night I finished the first "chapter" in Hierarchy. Its only about three pages at this point and a bit rough, but the essentials are there. I plan on going back at a later date and giving it a bit more body, filling it out a bit more, and adding some more dialogue. The chapter is from Tarlin's point of view (as I stated last post) and is a "to the point" chapter. Tarlin's bitterness really comes out here, his angst overflows and his lack of patience is terribly evident. As the general populace losses their minds at the mention of the choosing, Tarlin stares in wonder at there "lemming like" qualities and scoffs at their excitement. Our young Thuin has quite a bit of growing to do.

Currently, I'm starting on chapter two which will be the same scene, but from another view point. Chapter two starts off with Zuriel gazing into the Thuin Court, far away and in an open field. Gazing into the Court, Zuriel waits warily for his sign to move. When the tell-tale "CRUNCH" rings through the air, he knows its time to move and time to move quickly. More descriptive, covering a larger span of time, and from the viewpoint of a more experienced character, chapter two promises far more depth, story, and complexity.

From here on out, posts will occur either when I have a sudden spark of ingenuity, whenever the muse decides to hit me with an idea, or whenever I finish a chapter. They may be few and far between, or the daily blog regime may continue. Only time will tell.

Hit the ground running

Although I'm still struggling with my prologue dilemma, I decided to go ahead and do some writing last night.

The Hierarchy has hit the ground running with action picking up in the first few pages - there really isn't much time to ease into the story before something major occurs. Try as I might, the story wants to take things down a certain road and I'm powerless to stop it. Hierarchy is forcing me to just jump into plot immediately - regardless of whether the books starts with a prologue or in medias res.

Things start off with Tarlin in a meeting of Thuin, preparing himself for his "choosing". The choosing is, in a way, a sorting process that helps the young Thuin decide what element they have an affinity for - it's the major starting point in there magical careers. Everything stays calm long enough for Tarlin's personality to come to the surface, but just as we begin to get into his head there is a sudden avalanche of events that trigger Zuriel's appearance. Within seconds, Tarlin finds himself being dragged out of the conclave, passes out, and finds himself in a cold stone room devoid of light or any clue as to how he's gotten there.

Light the path

So it's been about a week now and already I've found myself struggling with what to talk about. The problem arrises due to the simple fact that delving too deep into the world of Hierarchy would give too much away. Should I start posting pieces of writing? Ideas about how the series will be written? Is it too soon to go into the plot? Should I keep taking you all down the dark road where you can't see the turns, or should I start putting up street lamps? I understand that the dark is somewhat frightening...so maybe it's time for a little illumination.

I was playing around with ideas for starting off Hierarchy and, of course, a prologue seemed like a reasonable idea. I've changed my mind a bit since writing this and I'm considering starting the novel off in medias res - I'll talk about this later. For now, even though it won't make sense to most of you, here is the brief original prologue for Hierarchy:

"The moonlight glinted off of the great lake as Amaros gazed over the castle balcony. A wind blew over the lake sending star studded ripples across its surface; Amaros managed a weak smile as he took in what he knew would be his last night. As a god, he was fully aware of his near future but as a star, he knew that at this point in time he was powerless to change the course of his fate.

According to the scouts, the head of the Hierarchy had been assassinated – eleven hours ago to be exact. He had time yet to live.

As Amaros turned towards his bed a loud crack echoed throughout the halls of the castle – it was like the sound breaking bones…but so much louder. A sudden burst of wind buffeted Amaros from the open balcony sending shivers down his spine. But it was still too early. He should have had more time.

The light in the room began to shift, twist, turn and take shape. Turing quickly towards the balcony, Amaros was greeted with a quick five blows to the chest. Opening his eyes, Amaros found himself prostrate on the floor. As he began to feel his body drain of life, as he began to realize that his body was loosing its God like luster, he saw what he feared most.

Black fire."