Category Archives: Bound

WIPpet Wednesday 4/17- Cousins

Well, well, well! Welcome to wonderful WIPpet Wednesday, where we wish to… not bother you with nutty alliterations. Not familiar with the rules? Just post a passage from your progressively perfecting… wonderful writing… arrgh!

*sips coffee*

…that relates to the date in some way. Don’t forget to check out the other offerings for today and feel free to join in! It’s super fun. Thank you to K.L. Schwengel, as always, for hosting.

Seventeen lines (on my new, wider computer screen– whee!) from chapter 5, so much earlier in the story than some of the others I’ve posted. For those just joining us, Aquila is a rather unusual eagle.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to continue re-writes. Those horses ain’t going to steal themselves…

I was still asleep early on my fourth day at Stone Ridge when someone slammed open the door to my rooms, thundered across the wood floor into my bedroom and sailed through the air, landing on top of me with a loud cry of, “get up, get up, get up!”

I grabbed the heavy feather pillow from under my head and used it to whack the intruder several times before she shrieked and bounced back onto the floor. I groaned when she ripped the blankets off of the bed and flopped down beside me, out of breath and laughing. “Come on, sleepyface,” she said, grinning. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

I glared at my cousin and tried to look angry. “’Lecia, I wouldn’t be happy to see Prince Charming himself if he woke me up by jumping on me.”

Felicia considered that for a moment, then started giggling. “That might not be so bad, you know.”

“Filth,” I muttered, and grinned back at her. That was the problem with Felicia; she was always so damned happy and funny that I couldn’t stay mad at her, even when I wanted to.

She rolled over and stared at me with a mock-serious expression. “We have much to discuss. But first, get thine self to a washing chamber and clean thy teeth. Thou art offending my delicate sensibilities.”

“Says the girl who smells like the horse that brought here here,” I replied, and rolled out of bed before she could smack me. I hurried through the sitting room, but saw no sign of Aquila. I couldn’t blame him for disappearing when that strange, noisy person burst in. I leaned out the window and came face-to-beak with him sitting in the cherry tree. “Sorry,” I whispered. He didn’t look impressed.

Felicia was looking at the books on my shelf when I returned. She took a seat in an armchair with her legs crossed under her, and I sat on the floor with my back to her. “I met Robert,” I said. “He seems nice.”

“I know. I’m not here to talk about him. Yet.” Felicia pulled a brush out of her bag and went to work on my hair. She’d treated me like a doll since the first time she came to visit me at Stone Ridge, and I almost never complained. It was relaxing.

“I thought not.” I’d known as soon as I saw her why she was there. I might have temporarily forgotten about the letters, but my mother hadn’t. She’d sent someone to remind me.


Update

Just finished revising/rewriting chapter nine, which means that the scene in the dragon cave is done. I didn’t change much there, but the scenes before that… whew. Full rewrites, they needed a tension boost. There’s a lot of talking there as characters feel each other out and try to gain each other’s trust (or to keep the other person at a distance, as the case may be). Dialogue can’t be a pleasant tea party of “hey, hi, where are you from?” Not in fiction. So we add subtext, we reveal the depth to which these people’s upbringings put them at odds with each other, we let them irritate the people who are trying to help them.

It’s fun when it works, but it’s not easy to do. I’m glad I have characters who are so naturally ill-suited for each other’s company. I mean, I had something to do with that, and I had to beat them severely to get them into the shapes I needed, but now that they’re there, it does make things easier than it would be if I had to inject false conflict into the story. Between the bad guys they’re running from, their internal conflicts and the way they push each other’s buttons, things should stay interesting.

Should. I just hope I’m not screwing it up for them. Between the injuries, the running, the horse thefts, the dragon and the stabbiness, they have enough to deal with right now without me getting in there and stupiding it all up. 😉

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WIPpet Wednesday – Ouch

Remember yesterday when we were talking about violence and all of that fun stuff?

Here’s a chunk from chapter 10 for you. It’s starting to feel weird posting all of this stuff when most of you don’t know what these people look like, or why they’re doing all of this, but I guess that’s part of the fun. We never said these would be stand-alone pieces, did we? But I’m starting to think I’m ruining it. Might be about time to start posting from another WIP.

Note to self: start another WIP.

We’re a long way from the safety of last week’s flower garden now… (warning: there be gore ahead)

“Would you let me die now?” he asked, after I’d put the last of the food away. He sat on the far side of the fire, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What do you mean?”

“If you saw me injured and dying again, what would you do? You said that if you’d known who I was that day you’d have left me to your friends. Has that changed at all?”

I had no idea what he was getting at. Stupid me. “I still don’t know you very well.”

“Knowing what you know now.”

“I… no. I might still turn you in, but if I saw you hurt like that again, I don’t suppose I could leave you.” I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. Not threatening, exactly, but he looked half-insane in the flickering firelight.

“I believe you.” In one smooth motion he reached into his knapsack, produced a long, dark-bladed knife, and plunged it into his left wrist. I screamed. He gasped, then pulled the knife through the flesh of his arm, twisting it near his elbow. The blade must have been sharper than any I’d ever come across before; it cut through muscle and tendons like they were liquid. Blood gushed from the wound.

“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled, and jumped up from where I had been sitting. Aren held his arm away from the blankets so that his blood poured onto the ground, burning on the fire-baked rocks.

“This is up to you,” he said, speaking as calmly as he had when we first met. “You probably have a few minutes, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t leave it for too long.”

“No.” My legs went weak, and I had to sit down and push with my feet to back away. “You’re crazy.”

“And I’m dead if you can’t manage a repeat performance. I…” He grimaced. “Gods, that hurts.”

I tried to tell myself that he was tricking me, that this was some kind of illusion, but as his eyes became glassy and his breathing shallower it became harder to believe that. “You ass,” I whispered, and he tried to laugh.

“Rowan, I can’t-”

“Shut up.” I picked up the knife and used it to cut into a thin cotton blanket so that I could tear a ragged strip off of it. I dropped the knife and kicked it onto the woods.

He looked at the fabric in my hands. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I said shut up!” I felt sick at the sight and smell of blood. Panicked tears made the world tremble in front of me, but I managed to start wrap the cloth tight around the butchered arm to try and slow the bleeding.

Aren placed his other hand over mine. “Don’t. You can do better than that.”

I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes and tried to clear my head, then grabbed Aren’s injured arm in both hands and squeezed. He yelled. “You deserved that,” I whispered.

Don’t forget to check out all of the other WIPpeteers’ posts for this week (head over to My Random Muse and click on the link), and to join in if you’d like. The rule is that you post a bit of a work in progress that somehow corresponds to the day’s date (so for today, 10 lines, 10 paragraphs, etc.). Thanks for stopping by!


Parental Guidance Suggested

(Or: Sex, Violence, and Writing a Good Story)

So there I was at church a while back, thumbing through some magazines while I waited for the hand-shaking and chit-chat to conclude so we could get home for lunch. Lo and behold, book reviews! “Thriving Family” magazine had a few listed; I think there was a “popular” category with one review (“Matched”), some other category, and a “Christian book” category. I didn’t take the magazine, so I had to look it up online later. Isn’t technology wonderful?

To their credit, they don’t issue pass/fail verdicts on these things at their site. What they do is go through and, in the case of books at least, offer a full plot synopsis so parents can decide whether they think it’s appropriate for their kids; they break it down into categories like “Belief systems,” “Nudity and Sex,” “Profanity,” etc., and outline what’s present in the book; and they offer discussion questions at the end for parents to think about talking about with their kids.*

This got me thinking (you knew it would). I took a look at a few online reviews to see what they put into these things and do you know what I realized?

If they did give pass/fail grades on these things, Bound would fail. Hard. In almost every category.

These reviews are rife with spoilers. I don’t want to do that here, but without giving everything away, here’s some of what I came up with in their regular categories:

Authority Roles

– going against societal expectations, parents’ wishes and the will of government, fight with mother ends in storming out and not returning, disobeying parents’ wishes re: banned books (ha!)… all in chapter one

Other Belief Systems

-Tyreans are polytheistic (further explained in book 2). Does magic count as a belief system? Because that’s kind of huge. Magic is everywhere, and different beliefs about it are causing tension between nations. Ancient fertility statues mentioned (gasp!)

Profanity/Graphic Violence

-H— (the place and as a curse) used several times, d—, s—. Thank g–, oh my g–, etc. also used in dialogue (Yes, they use dashes like that in their reviews. Yes, I find it confusing). Death threats. Name-calling is frequent in thought and speech. But hey, at least no one says fuck!

-Violence… well, it could be worse. There’s a lot of blood. Self-mutilation (for a cause!), somewhat-graphic descriptions of wounds/injuries, violent attacks, slapping, people burn to death.

Kissing/Sex/Homosexuality (I know, I know…)

-Yes/ yes/subtly implied. Oh, hey, they forgot nudity… we have that, too! In terms of “graphic description” we’re not talking “insert tab A into slot B,” but a few of these things are kind of major plot points, and there’s a bit of tension surrounding these situations. Or a lot.

And in the “notes” section…

Alcohol: Wine is consumed several times. Oooooh….

Lying/deception: at every turn

Smoking: Hey, we don’t have that… wait, no, someone smokes a pipe, and we don’t even know what’s in it. Never mind.

Criminal activity: theft, infanticide (discussed), several murders, abduction, breaking and entering…

Suicide: Mentioned in passing, sort of attempted (see: self-mutilation)

Anger: HAHAHAHAHA… yeah. A bit. Jealousy, too.

I’m done for now. You see what I’m getting at, though? And I haven’t read enough of their reviews to even know where magic actually fits into all of this (though their sister site, PluggedIn, doesn’t think very highly of Harry Potter, and over there they do caution parents against these books)

Do I care? Not so much, actually. I have nothing against books with positive messages. I love leaving a story feeling happy. But I really dislike books that set the moral above the story, and I think perfect characters or slightly-imperfect characters who always make the right decision in the end make for boring stories. Are my characters flawed? H— yes! Damaged, even. Do they do things wrong? Of course they do, that’s what makes the story interesting.

And that’s what I set out to do: to tell a good story. An entertaining story. An honest story, in that people’s actions make sense in the context of their world and their surroundings. Should people let their 12-year-olds read it? I wouldn’t**. But I don’t think that makes it a “bad” story. There are a lot of great things there, too; there’s love, there’s loyalty, there’s self-sacrifice and generosity and yes, magic, which I do consider that a wonderful thing.

I didn’t set out to be provocative, and for the most part, I don’t think Bound reads as a story that’s pushing some dark agenda or promoting immoral behaviour. I think most books would do at least as poorly, even MG titles. It’s just funny how it looks when you categorize everyone’s sins like that. 😉

So tell me: How do your favourite books stack up? If you’re a writer, how would your work do in a review like this? Does either result surprise you? Do you think books can be all rainbows and unicorns and making good choices and still be worth reading?

*Just for the record, I think this is a useful resource. It’s not those crazy people who were burning Harry Potter books (because, y’know, witchcraft). It’s just putting information out there so parents can guide their kids’ choices and help them process the media messages that they’re being exposed to. No doubt there are parents who use this to tell their kids that they can’t read anything because it’s all evil, but for those of us who are sane about these things, it’s good information to have available.

**But then, there are people letting their kids that age read 50 Shades of Grey, so…


WIPpet Wednesday- Night in the Garden

Good day and/or evening, folks! It’s time again for WIPpet Wednesday, where the jokes are made up and the points don’t matter… wait, that’s not right. No, WIPpet Wednesday is that wonderful day of the week where we (and you, if you’d like to join in, see links at the bottom) post a little bit of a work-in-progress that somehow relates to the date- say, 15 lines on the 15th, or a bit of chapter 6 on the 6th… it’s becoming my favourite blog day because I love reading everyone’s snippets.

Something simple this week, I think; everyone here’s sick, we don’t need the excitement. A quiet moment with Rowan looking out the window over a moonlit garden, accompanied by an odd but seemingly harmless eagle… I said is was simple, I didn’t say it wasn’t weird.

Three paragraphs from chapter three of Bound, and I’m cutting it off before we get to the teaser-y part so you guys don’t call me mean again 😛 :

The moon was full and hazy behind the thin clouds that stretched across the sky, bathing the flower garden beneath my window in cool, shadowless light. Most of the flowers had died off or gone to sleep for the winter, but the cherry tree still held its odd mix of flowers and fruits, and the rose and lilac bushes were covered in blooms.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” I asked Aquila, and he glanced back at me from his perch in the tree. “The flowers. I remember how surprised I was my first autumn here, when they didn’t wilt or fade until well into the winter. Everything in the garden bloomed long back then, the ground flowers as much as the trees. When I was little, I used to think it was because the garden was in love with my aunt. She cared so much for it, like it was a child or a friend, and I thought that the flowers were the garden’s way of loving her back. Now that she doesn’t go out there anymore, the flowers only bloom when they’re supposed to. The trees have longer memories, though.”

Aquila fluffed his feathers and stared at me. “I know, it’s stupid,” I said, and leaned farther out the window. “Matthew told me it’s just because the trees were cultivated over generations to bloom long, and he doesn’t have as much time to tend the flowers as Victoria did, so they die off more quickly. I still sometimes like to think it, though. It was the only magic I ever really had.”

Don’t forget to check out what the rest of the WIPpeteers are up to this week- just click here for the links. And as always, a big thank you to our sponsors… I mean, our lovely host, K.L. Schwengel!


WIPpet Wednesday the 27th, in Which Chapter 1 Kicks My Ass

So, the twenty-seventh, is it? If chapter 20 would have been too spoiler-loaded, you can imagine why I won’t be sharing anything from chapter 27 today. Boo. I like that one.

But Chapter 1 has, quite frankly, been kicking my ass lately. I’ve laid awake at night for hours, trying to figure out how to properly introduce Rowan. Aren already got his creepy little moment in the prologue (yes, I’ve decided, it’s staying in the story), so chapter one has to pick up from there. Different character, different mood (though not as different as she’d probably like to think), different voice. Going from magic and bad-guy-ness to a far more mundane place and a girl who thinks the only thing unusual about her is the fact that she doesn’t want the perfect life that’s coming to her.

Pfft. Teenagers.

I loved the previous version of this scene, but it lacked excitement, and we all know that stories aren’t allowed a slow build these days. No, I’m not bitter. And this does bring a major plot point to our attention in a much more interesting way. It’s just these first paragraphs that sit there and laugh at me.

Stupid words.

So here’s where we are now, a WIP in the truest sense of the term, though I’m happier with this now than I’ve been in a long time. It’s an unusual start, maybe, but I like it. This picks up right after the prologue ends; I guess that’s all you need to know.

27 lines (according to Scrivener) for the 27th. Enjoy.


(Chapter 1- Rowan)

Another day done.

Another shift at the library, with the smells of the old paper and new ink, with adventure and romance and tragedy. Another volume of fairy tales sneaked out of the restricted section and hidden deep in my bag; another morning of pretending not to listen to Mr Woorswith reminiscing to his cronies about the wonders and horrors he’d seen when he traveled past the mountains when he was a young man.

Another day of pain.

Another day closer to the next phase of my life, to everything I was supposed to be longing for, to the part where my odd little life would finally begin to line up with what it was supposed to be from the start. Still no closer to figuring out why all of those good things sometimes felt so wrong, though.

My boots scuffed over the cobblestoned street, kicking up dust that swirled in the breeze and settled into a thin layer on the bottom of my skirt. My mother would tell me to lift my face to the world, to take pride in myself, and for goodness sakes just smile a little, but she wasn’t there to bother me, and I could hardly be bothered on my own. A bright ray of sunlight broke through the clouds overhead, and the dull headache that had been building all day pressed harder at the back of my skull. The world swam in front of me, and I paused to take a few deep breaths. You’ll be home soon, I told myself. Just get home, make some heartleaf tea, go to bed, everything will be fine. This thing hasn’t killed you yet, it’s not going to happen now.

From somewhere far away, a clattering noise interrupted my thoughts. Hoofbeats on stone, faster than they should have been. I opened my eyes, but the pain made everything slow; by the time I lifted my head and struggled to understand exactly what was happening, they were almost on top of me: four horses with uniformed riders wearing the king’s colours, armed but not armored. What’s the rush, boys? One of them yelled; I tried to step back against the building behind me, but something wasn’t working. Nothing connected. I closed my eyes again.

A hand grabbed my arm and yanked me away, spinning me out of the road as the horses thundered past. It hurt my shoulder, but that hardly mattered when the pain in my head was screaming louder than it had been before, the dull ache roaring to life, growing sharper when my head snapped sideways on my neck. I pressed my hands to my eyes and leaned into my rescuer. My brother. Who else would have bothered?

When I opened my eyes a few seconds later, Ashe was looking down the street where the riders had disappeared. “Didn’t even look back,” he observed.

“Must have been late for something.” I sat on one of the crates that were stacked outside of the grocer’s store.

“Too late to do any good, that’s for sure.” Ashe scratched at the arm of his blue messenger’s uniform and bent to pick up the papers he’d dropped when he pulled me out of the road. “You OK, Ro?”

“Same old thing,” I said, and tried to smile. “Just need to get home to bed.”

He frowned. “I’ll walk with you.” I started to object, but he held up a hand to stop me. “No, I know. It’s not my fault you’re incompetent, but I’d feel sort of bad about it if something happened to you. I just have to post these on the way.” I stuck my tongue out at him. He laughed, then offered me a hand to help me up. “Come on.”

Hmm, where are those soldiers going? Nothing a nice girl would want to get mixed up in, that’s for sure.

As always, thanks to KL Schwengel for hosting WIPpet Wednesday. If you want to join in, or to check out everyone else’s offerings for this very awkward date, head over here for the links.

Thanks for reading!

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And hey, look what I found at Walmart. 🙂


WIPpet Wednesday – the twentieth

Happy Spring! In name, if not in weather… No, nothing spring-themed to post today; everything I’ve got is autumn/early winter.

I’d have liked to post something from chapter 20 for you, what with it being the 20th and all; it’s a particular favourite of mine. But spoilers (serious ones) are abundant, so just in case anyone ever wants to read the whole thing…

Here’s twenty lines (in my word program, anyway) from chapter eight. Yay!

Context: Rowan doesn’t know much about magic or the creatures that exist within its influence, and her curiousity tends to bite her in the ass… so she wandered into a dragon cave she thought was abandoned, and of course it wasn’t. Aren (him again, though most of the book is told by Rowan) went after her, and now they’re kind of stuck- she can’t get out, he can’t help her, and the heat in there’s making everything weird. The dragon’s name is Ruby… This scene still needs work, but here’s a bit for you, anyway.

Rowan sighed. “I told you not to come in.” If she was afraid, she was hiding it well. “Are you going to kill me?” she asked the dragon.

“Yes. You’re not much, but I’m hungry. My young are hungry.” I hadn’t noticed the pool of still water between the massive creature’s forelegs. Beneath the dark surface I could just make out the shapes of a trio of dragonlings, still too young and soft to survive the air their mother’s heat made so dry. That explained why the path appeared unused; mother dragons guard their eggs and young more carefully than any other creature, forgoing food and exercise in order to protect them. Having young in the nest also makes them more dangerous, less predictable. “Your story has entertained me, and I thank you,” the dragon continued. “But I have no reason to spare you. Or him.” She leaned her head in closer to Rowan. “But I’ll let you choose flames or claws. By way of thanks.”

The sounds of the dragon’s breath and her tail stroking across the cave’s stone floor were drowned out by my heartbeat as Rowan stood, slowly and unsteadily. Her legs shook as she reached out and placed a hand on the glowing red snout. “I think you should let us go.”

It was a lucky thing that Ruby didn’t snort in surprise; it might have cooked Rowan where she stood. “Why ever would I do that?”

Rowan swallowed hard. Come on, I thought. She’d have to use magic again. I didn’t know what she could do, but we were both going to be eaten if she didn’t come up with something. “Because…” she began, then hesitated. “Because

Oops, that’s all we have space for! Wheeeee!

*evil laugh*

Make sure you check out the rest of the bloggers participating in WIPpet Wednesday, hosted by K.L Schwengel at My Random Muse!


What’s In a Name? Everything.

…or sometimes nothing.

A few blogs I follow have posted on naming characters recently, and I keep wanting to comment, but I don’t think I should write an essay under some poor, unsuspecting person’s post. I’ve been meaning to break this topic out for a while (really- it’s on my list between “Look, MOAR NEW NOTEBOOK!” and “My cats, let me show you them”). Now seems like as good a time as any to share my experiences and a few thoughts on where to find the perfect name.

I’ll tell you right now: I suck at naming things. I don’t care whether it’s a character, a kid, a cat or a fictional country, I’m terrible at it. If I didn’t have my husband around to help, my kids would be named “Pending” and “Give me another minute to think.” I’m indecisive, and the more important the name is to me, the harder it gets; therefore it was easy to name my goldfish I had in college (Fluffy and Spike, may they float in peace), but it’s really hard for me to name fictional characters….Or to leave their names alone once I’ve picked them.

If I’d written this post two weeks ago, I would have told you that there’s only one significant character in Bound who hasn’t had a name change. I can’t say that anymore; now it’s all of them. Seems none of my beta readers were familiar with a YA series in which two protagonists are named Cassia and Kai… which are the names of a brother and sister in my books.

Huh.

Well, Kai’s keeping his name, so I guess Cassia’s getting a slight identity alteration. Bugger.

It’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened; like I said, they’ve all changed. I’d have loved to name my female main character after my favourite girl in my favourite book, but you can’t let someone in a story with magic go around with the name Abra (bonus points if you now know what my favourite book is). Abra… Cadabra. Not so much. I tried so many names on her, and absolutely nothing worked. It was enough to make me cry. I don’t want to give away the reason I finally settled on Rowan, but she is named after a tree (shrub?), and it suits her character. Good enough.

Aren was worse- he doesn’t make anything easy. Never has. Some of my friends were kind enough to let me bounce name ideas off of them, but nothing ever seemed to fit (and these sessions generally devolved into a laugh-fest of ridiculous suggestions, anyway). He had different names in two drafts of the book that were completely wrong; finally I just took out the list of potentials, started picking sounds I liked and smooshed them together in different combinations until something sounded right.

It’s a highly technical process, I won’t go into details.

Strange thing was, when I plugged my mish-mash into a baby names website, it came up as a Scandinavian name that nearly made me spit my drink all over the computer when I read the meaning listed for it. It was perfect, so much so that no one would ever believe that I got the name before the meaning.

That wasn’t the first strange coincidence to smack me in the face while I was writing this one, or the last. It was a really good one, though.

Other names came easier. Once Rowan had her name, her brother Ashe and sister Willow fell into theirs quite naturally; their parents are like that, I guess, with the coordinating names. I’m not judging. My dragon got her sort-of-name from her colour, certain water-dwelling folk drifted naturally toward aqua-centric names. Others were more difficult; bad guys need bad guy names, countries need… country names.

At least animals were easy.

So where did I find all of these fantastic names for my characters?

Everywhere.

Baby names websites are a good resource. Some, like babynames.com, will let you search by meaning, by origin, by gender, by first letter, or any combination of those. Handy, no? Great if you name characters by meaning. I usually don’t, becauseI think it can spoil surprises for readers, but it can work. Also, you learn some interesting things, like the fact that the name “Benjamin” means “Son of my right hand.” Very nice name, but seems like a piss-poor way to conceive a child.

*ahem* Moving on…

Geography: My big bad, Severn, shares his name with a river in the UK. Also a town in Ontario, but I prefer the river. It has an appropriately bloody history, apparently beginning with the drowning of a nymph, and the name is kind of scary. I didn’t learn about the body count until after I’d picked the name, but again, works for me.

Botany: Already covered this, see Rowan’s family (above).

Meaning: Obviously the aforementioned water-dwellers. Also, Rowan’s cousin Felicia. She’s a happy lass… for now. Wait for book 2.

Associations: No offense to anyone with names I’m going to mention here, OK? No hard feelings? Good. But some names just bring certain associations to mind, at least for me. Callum Langley comes from a good family. His father Dorset was just knighted. Can you imagine the same of Englebert Dingleberry and his father, Sheldon? No, neither can I. Sometimes I just picked names that sounded right.

Minor jokes: This one probably won’t survive final edits, but it amuses me greatly for now (small things, etcetera). There’s a guy whose sole purpose in the story is to die. He deserves it, but he doesn’t get a lot of dialogue before it happens. His name’s Mort. I like it, but I suspect it’s too punny for most readers. But hey, if something like that works for your story, I say run with it!

Zoology: I haven’t done it yet, but if a character had animal-like qualities, I’d check out the Latin names for a species to see if there’s anything there.

Mythology: J.K. Rowling uses this brilliantly in the Harry Potter books- now THERE’S someone who can work with names! Remus Lupin… should be obvious exactly what he is based on name alone, but it works. They all do. Best names ever.

Literature: Obviously this didn’t work out so well for me, but why not think over your favourite books and characters? Just be mindful of the associations thing I mentioned above. Naming a character Scarlett will give readers a very different feeling from naming her Martha.

Diseases: No, not really. But come on, admit it: Chlamydia sounds like the name of a Nymph or something, doesn’t it? Damn right it does. This is why it pays to at least check on the meaning of the brilliant name you’ve come up with.

Just keep your eyes open. Write down names you like, even when you’re not working on that aspect of a project. They’ll come in handy some day.

Oh, and one caution that a friend reminded me of during this process: If your reader doesn’t know how to pronounce the name, it’s going to be a distraction. Saorise and Siobhan are gorgeous names; many people will at best completely butcher them in their minds and at worst give up completely.*

Kwar’snix!blarg7f9att is not a gorgeous name, and no one should ever use it. Same principle applies.

Wow, this post is a lot longer than I meant it to be. Clearly I have a lot of issues to work out with this one. I’m traumatized, guys. My final recommendation if you find yourself in my position (ie being a complete moron about names): just pick a frigging name and plug it in there. “Find and replace” works, you can change it later. Yes, names will probably impact how you perceive your characters, but a placeholder name will get you a lot farther in your story than nothing.

So, where do you find names for your cats, characters, children, goldfish, etc?

*I’m not saying to never use these names, or others that aren’t pronounced the way they’re spelled, or that are confusing. But if you can slip in someone learning how to pronounce the name, it’s really helpful (see J.K. Rowling again, using a student from another school to clarify the pronunciation of Hermione’s name in The Goblet of Fire, and Jacqueline Carey using the same trick in Kushiel’s Dart). Very helpful for those of us who hear words in our heads when we’re reading and get frustrated when that trips us up.


WIPpet Wednesday? Don’t Mind If I Do!

Yeah, I’m subjecting you all to my blathering twice in one day. Again. But a blog I just started following posted her WIPpet wednesday excerpt, and I went to have a look at other people’s… it’s just way too much fun! Parties all over the place today- works in progress AND it’s Jae at Lit and Scribbles’ blogiversary. Aww!

So here’s how it goes: you post a short bit from a current work in progress that somehow relates to the day’s date. So today being the 13th, you get an itty bitty sample of chapter 13… which hasn’t been hit by final revisions yet, but this part probably won’t change much.

Background: This chapter is told by Aren, who is… well, to know him is to be confused by him. He and Rowan just escaped from a hairy situation that might have helped her trust him a little more, but the fact that he’s manipulating people’s minds is probably still too much for her, the poor lamb. 😉

(not the beginning or end of the scene, not even the beginning of that first paragraph… because of all the reasons. Just trust me.)

**

I didn’t like hiding, especially in a spot that would have been so difficult to escape from, but it hadn’t been all bad. It was cramped and uncomfortable, and being there left us too vulnerable, but that hadn’t kept me from enjoying having her body pressed against mine for a few minutes.

“Did you really give those people memories that weren’t real?” she whispered after the groom left to collect our things, pulling me out of thoughts that I shouldn’t have been having.

“In a way.”

“And you made that other guy kill his brother?” She looked like she was afraid to hear my answer, but I wasn’t going to lie to her about it.

“Yes.”

“What were you just doing to that man who just left?”

“What I had to. Nothing that will hurt him, so don’t worry about it.”

She stepped away from me and rubbed the horse’s nose. “It seems wrong, though.”

“I didn’t see you jumping in to distract him,” I whispered back as the groom returned with food and clean bedrolls. “You’re benefiting from this at least as much as I am. If you don’t like it, find your own cure.” She held my gaze for a moment, then looked away and turned to saddle her horse. I knew I wasn’t being nice; she was probably confused about everything that was happening, but I was exhausted and in no mood to feel like a villain for trying to help her.

She was silent as we rode away from the inn, through the still-quiet village and past a faded sign that advised us to “Come again soon!” Not bloody likely, I thought. I’d be lucky to survive the next week if I couldn’t stop being distracted or falling into deep sleep. Keeping us safe was turning out to more challenging than I’d anticipated.

Rowan seemed to be turning things over in her mind for the next while, which was fine with me. It was well into the morning before she spoke again. She didn’t turn toward me, but watched out of the corner of her eye. “Have you done that to me at all?”

I’d wondered how long it would take her to ask. “No. Not once.”

“How can I be sure of that? You could be making me think that I was making my own decisions but really you’ve been doing it for me, and making me not notice that what I was doing was strange, or-”

Even though I was feeling frustrated and nearly too tired to think, it was hard not to laugh at her. “Rowan?”

“What?”

“You’re not worth that much trouble.”

**

So there you go, my lovely readers. Out of context, short, probably confusing, but that’s a bit of chapter 13 for you. If you would like to see what others have posted today, the links are here, all conveniently conglomerated for your convenient consumption*. Thank you to K.L. Schwengel for hosting the whole shebang. Enjoy!

*No, I have not been watching “V for Vendetta.” But now I want to.


Hey, Look Up There!

See that, up there? Yeah, on the bar… thing. There’s a new whatchamacallit called About My Book! Long story short, it’s questions and answers about Bound for anyone who’s wondering what the hell I’m babbling about in all of these posts (I’ll add more posts later). No spoilers, just some fun information based on the questions from the “Next Big Thing” blog hop (since one of my new favourite bloggers mentioned it, and I liked the idea).

Why not, right? Here’s the link for anyone who doesn’t come to the blog. You’re so very welcome. 🙂


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