Castles in the Air

Moving Castle

Like this, only not.

Spring is here at Chez Unicorn, which means the trees are budding and the lilies are sprouting.  This is probably the last weekend we’ll have without the threat of yardwork until July, when it’ll be hot enough to stunt everything.  We’re celebrating by having pork roast and sauerkraut.  And we’ll probably do some writing later.

Earlier, we were out hunting for new glassware.  We’ve been pretty hard on our glasses lately, and we need new ones.  The problem is that everything we found was too small, too ugly, or came in massively large quantities, like 8 or 16.  I mean, we break glasses pretty often, but not that often.  Seriously, Walmart, just let me buy these tall ones in a set of four, for crying out loud.

This is also the last weekend in March, and that means that next time you hear from us, Camp NaNoWriMo will have started.  I’ve got my outline ready, and I’ve done my character profiles and prompts.  For the past few days, I’ve been making a floor plan of the castle where the majority of the action takes place.

Old Wealdan Castle

Behold the fruits of far, far too many hours’ labor.

Some people (well, actually most people) would probably say that this level of preparation is unnecessary.  But personally I’ve found it really helpful.  It’s easy, particularly for fantasy authors, to have a pleasantly vague idea of your setting in your head.  But when you have to sit down and start drawing it, you’re suddenly forced to make decisions.  And you see where certain ideas you had are actually impossible.

Part of the plot of my story, for instance, requires that there be servants’ corridors and secret stairways in this castle.  The moment I started making these floorplans, though, I realized the vague picture I had in my mind of these passageways was completely impossible.  There simply was no room for them.  So I had to spend time thinking about the problem and come up with a practical solution: interstitial servants’ floors with hidden staircases that go up and give access into the public areas through hidden doors.  Now, instead of just secret passages, I’ve got whole secret floors of dark, creepy rooms to play with.  It’s very exciting, actually.

This is all in keeping with one of the longest-running themes of this blog: why planning is better than pantsing.  S and I have found that the more you plan, the easier the actual writing becomes, and the less you have to dread revisions.  Obviously, not every setting requires a detailed map or floorplan, in the same way that not every character requires a lengthy character profile.  But whether it’s setting or character or plot, it’s all too easy to fool yourself and say, “Oh, I know what I’m doing here,” only to discover later that you didn’t really know at all.

So if it’s important to your plot to know, for instance, that Susan’s bedroom is over the garage, with a view over the garden in the back, and the stairway is halfway down the hall and leads to the kitchen, which is next to the den, then it might be worth doing a quick little sketch, just to make sure that’s possible.  You don’t even have to be able to draw well to do a floorplan—just make lines on a page.  It helps ensure your castles are grounded in reality and not, you know, floating on air.

J

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What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

young frank.

S is turning into a mad scientist, ala Gene Wilder in Young Frankenstein.

This post is going to be short by design. You see, I have this theory that I often get in my own way, writing-wise. In November I started writing like crazy when I switched to a project I longed to be writing, and I’ve been very productive since working on the stories I want to tell. In fact, I’m making a formal vow to myself that for the next month and a half (through the end of Camp NaNoWriMo), I’m going to only write what I want to write.

After all, if I’m doing this writing thing because it’s fun, I should make certain I’m having fun, right? Yes, I want to be a good blogger and post something here regularly, and I think I can put in at least a half hour every two weeks so that I’m still providing content. But I sometimes (cough today cough) waste the better part of a day psyching myself up to write this blog or some story I’m “supposed” to be working on, but not writing anything at all, even though there’s something I want to be writing.

So, I’m going to spend as much time as I can writing where my heart is. It’s what I’ve been mostly doing since late November, but I’m going to do it with purpose through April 30th and see what happens. See if I’m more productive and happy. Who knows, maybe I’ll find I need some have-to/ought-to projects to keep me going, but until I try this experiment, I’ll never know.

Will report back in May!

~S

The Unsinkable S.S. Klaroline

RMS ?Titanic?, 1911.

Pictured: not the S.S. Klaroline

As we’ve mentioned many times before, we enjoy a number of the cheesy fun shows on the CW.  Some of these we never really warmed to, some of them we stopped watching when they got tiresome (I’m looking at you, Flash and Arrow).  But we’ve kept up with Vampire Diaries and The Originals.  Many is the time we’ve been sitting around in the evening, bored and looking for something to do, when S will say to me, “Well, we’ve got vampire shows on the DVR.  Wanna watch them while I fold laundry?”

And I mean no offense when I say that’s pretty much the level of engagement we have had with those two shows recently, particularly Vampire Diaries.  They’re something mildly interesting to have on in the background.  They’re basically our equivalent of old-fashioned daytime soap operas, if you want to think of them that way—something to have on the TV while you dust the living room or peel potatoes for supper.

Even so, Vampire Diaries has been a part of our lives for years now, and we’re sorry to see it go.  I can’t say I thought the finale episode was earth-shatteringly awesome.  It certainly wasn’t like the finale of Justified (as S wrote, the ending of that show was absolutely perfect).  But it fulfilled the basic function of a series finale—wrap up all the storylines in a satisfying way so the viewers think they’ve gotten what they came for.  And don’t do anything to destroy the good will the show has built up, or pull some “clever” slight of hand that makes the viewers feel like they’ve wasted their time.  Some shows find that surprisingly hard to achieve actually.  Think of the last episodes of How I Met Your Mother or Roseanne, for instance.

Our favorite thing about the finale, of course, was that little nod to Klaroline shippers.  I won’t say that S responded to this by letting out an ultrasonic squee of delight and doing a little dance on the couch, but I won’t deny it, either.  We actually saw the episode up at my parents’ house, where we were visiting, and all the way home in the car, every twenty minutes or so, whatever we happened to be talking about, S would turn to me and say, “Oh, and by the way, J?  Klaroline is endgame!”  As S has mentioned before, Klaroline (Klaus Mikaelson and Caroline Forbes) is one of her favorite TV ships.  And as she noted yesterday, it’s the only one on this list she made more than a year and a half ago that has so far ended happily (or at least ended in such a way that we can imagine it ends happily).

So all in all, we’re pretty pleased with how Vampire Diaries turned out.  Now we just need another show to watch while S folds the clothes.

J

The Persuasion Project: Chapters 7 and 8

ce-brock-ch-7

CE Brock illustration from mollands.net.

Welcome back to my live read of Persuasion. We’ve hit Chapter 7, and things are about to get kicked into high gear. How do we know? Look at this opening sentence!

A very few days more, and Captain Wentworth was known to be at Kellynch, and Mr Musgrove had called on him, and come back warm in his praise, and he was engaged with the Crofts to dine at Uppercross, by the end of another week.

Sigh!

Of course, their first meeting cannot smoothly come to pass, because what fun would that be? Anne is about to meet him at her sister’s in-laws’ until her oldest nephew is brought back to the house injured. Then the next night, everyone is going to dine at Uppercross with Captain Wentworth, Anne, naturally, being left behind to tend the recovering child. After all, why should Mary stay with her own child? As she says to Anne: “You, who have not a mother’s feelings, are a great deal the properest person.” Truly Mary is the worst, and cracks me up. But far more importantly—will Anne and Captain Wentworth ever meet?!

Well, yes, they will, the next morning when Captain Wentworth comes to shoot with Anne’s brother-in-law, Charles. What’s great about this is how brief and simple, and seemingly unexceptional the meeting is. It’s really only something Austen could pull off.

In two minutes after Charles’s preparation, the others appeared; they were in the drawing-room. Her eye half met Captain Wentworth’s, a bow, a curtsey passed; she heard his voice; he talked to Mary, said all that was right, said something to the Miss Musgroves, enough to mark an easy footing; the room seemed full, full of persons and voices, but a few minutes ended it. Charles shewed himself at the window, all was ready, their visitor had bowed and was gone.

And that’s all. We’ve waited six and a half chapters, and that is their reunion. Anne, unsurprisingly, is a bit flustered the rest of the morning, but there were no grand exchanges, no one fainted, it was all simply done and described in a beautifully understated manner. Frankly, this is another of those moments I adore in Austen. She doesn’t focus on the drama of the meeting, but Anne’s reaction to it, because it’s her internal life we actually care about.

The chapter then comes to an end with the narrator switching to Captain Wentworth’s thoughts on marriage. He is ready to marry any nice lady he meets, with the exception of Anne Elliot. He, in fact, does have a few criteria, all of which he has designed in reaction against Anne. But this cannot be the end of their story, can it?

Of course not.

Chapter 8 begins with the information that Anne and Captain Wentworth were constantly in the same circle after this time. And that is followed by many charming anecdotes about how everyone would ask him questions about the navy, which I find lovely, but I’m a dork for all things British navy in this era. The chapter, which covers a typical evening of supper and conversation, ends with dancing, Anne stationed at the piano, Captain Wentworth clearly unimpressed when he is told she never dances anymore. When he is later cold to her, she deems it by far the hardest moment of their reacquaintance.

And that’s those two chapters. Next up is arguably one of my favorite moments in all of literature. I think that should get me back to this reread in short order.

~S