Other Protagonist

I've always had this secondary protagonist with the End Game thread. He was one of the first characters that I had, and he's always been one that I've been drawn to. His personality seems rather expected - the one that everyone sort of falls into line with. The one that you want to win in case our main protagonist doesn't make it.

You count on this secondary protagonist to stick it through and you count on them to never really deviate from who they are. Sure, they'll make mistakes - at least you hope they do, 'cause otherwise they aren't very believable. But on the whole, you imagine they're who they are, and that's just the way that it is. At least, that's how I've always felt about this one character.

Then this past summer, my brother and I were driving to Ocean City, and we began talking about this character in particular. My brother, being my biggest supporter and main soundboard for all things End Game, delves into my characters and ensures that they're as real as possible. I appreciate this about my brother.

Well, we both decided that at some point, my character in question did something that really changed him. Neither of us knew what it might have been. It might not have even been a bad thing; it just really jarred my secondary protagonist to the point of - most likely - a major change in his personality. Then I purposefully stayed away from finding that out, 'cause I got this feeling that it was going to completely change my image of this character.

The stalling stopped last weekend when I finally said, "Alright, what did you do?" (Just so you non-writers out there know, when I suddenly ask these questions, I really sort of ask myself in the manner of, "Alright, what did this character do, and how bad was it?" I then start thinking and usually, I'll find one random image in my mind and start following it. Next thing I know, I've got a story brewing.)

Now here I am, unpacking my secondary protagonists' history and finding a lot of nitty-gritty. I'm not terribly shocked. I always knew there was something hiding behind him, I had just never tried to figure it out. I always liked him the way he was and I didn't want him to change. I wanted him to always be who he was. That's the thing about writing believable characters - they've gotta change. No matter how much we may like one specific point of who they are, we can't keep them that way. It's in their changes and in their crisis that we see "real" moments for very fictional characters.

So I'll keep unpacking and, hopefully, by April 1st, I'll have enough to start really writing this nitty-gritty story for ZPO.

Adventure well everyone. Here in PA we got a glimpse of spring last week. Yesterday it snowed and tomorrow it's supposed to snow again. Yeah, welcome to winter/spring in my neck of the woods. It's like an identity crisis every day.

Currently Writing: Zero Point One
Currently Listening to: "Here You Me" by Justin Robinett & Michael Henry

Accuracy

I've never written a story that has historical fact to it.

Okay, so Arthurian lore isn't historical fact. But, there is a universally known bit about Arthur. He was king of England at some point. He may or may not have worked with Robin Hood (who is also a fictional/possibly real character from history), and his tutor/educator was a wizard named Merlin. He had a half brother named Kay and a step-father/uncle named Sir Ector. He pulled the sword from the stone and was crowned king of England at a young age. In some levels of the myth, he's a bastard child of Uther Pendragon. He has a sword called Excalibur and spoke with a lady in a lake. He married Guinevere. She may (or may not), have had an affair with Lancelot, depending on which time frame you're talking about for the lore.

It's a lot that people tend to know or have some basic carnal knowledge of. While yes, I've written of real places before, this is different. There was a lot of research involved. It's kind of how it was when I wrote my novella. I sat down and read a lot before I actually started writing. I had cheat sheets to help guide me in the story and the characters.

This is a bit harder though. At least for me. Trudging through the sludge of may haves and may-not haves is difficult. Granted, it leaves a lot of room for play. I can mess with things because, technically, there's no real hard core proof that Arthur ever existed. He had a magician call snow out in the middle of summer for crying out loud. Probably a work of fiction that acted as a good story for kids back in the day.

So I keep reminding myself to have fun with it. Take what I know (and what the world knows), and make it your own. After all, we're messing with the way the world views things already in the current world-stream from the series.

Oh yeah, this story deals with the same world as my 5 book series. At this rate, I'm never going to be done with this world. Is it alright if I say that makes me smile? I'm having some fun though. Because I'm learning more about my characters along the way. There's a flip to that and that's simply this: plot holes! There's the potential for many of them to pop on up. I'm trying to squash them though and fill the cracks before they become craters.

That may prove difficult.

Happy writing everyone!

Currently Writing: Arthur
Currently Reading: The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
Currently Listening to: "What Makes you Beautiful" cover by The Piano Guys

PS - The Hobbit movie is going to be a 3 parter. I don't think I like that one bit.

Apologies

I've been taking my time in reading through Genesis via physical copy and have found many a mistake. So for those that have bought the book, I wish to extend my deepest of apologies. Not only have I probably put my worst foot forward, but I've wasted your time and well-earned money. You deserve better, as do my characters.

If you truly feel slighted, let me know. I will gladly purchase a new one for you and mail it to you. No one should be forced to keep something they don't like/can't use. And to be honest, I hope that my books keep you coming back to revisit the story. I know that they constantly beckon to me, but I've also written a story I knew I wanted to read.

News unrelated to my sorry excuse for a first publication:

Arthurian lore is eating at my brain. Reading The Once and Future King doesn't help matters. However, it still calls to my attention at nearly all hours. I can't wait till August so I can let my fingers fly across my keyboard in story-telling again. Exploring this story gets me excited. Many questions will be answered for me and even more will be posed, of this I'm sure.

With every road I travel down regarding my world, I find stories, characters and histories I find captivating. It's why I think I'm always searching down those roads. There's always more story to tell, if I really wanted there to be. Every world, I think, has the potential to grow into something harking of reality. It draws us in and can, if the author allows it, to enthrall and devour a reader's attention.

And that is my sincerest hope for you when you read my books. If I have not done this, well, then I have obviously forgotten something. Or perhaps something was lost. Regardless, it won't be recognized by a larger audience until I get a story that doesn't just grab me. Because boy, does it ever snatch my attention away. I was five minutes late from my lunch today at work because I was so caught up in a story I wrote.

As absurd as this is, I was giggling at my own writing - not because it was bad. But because I actually found it funny.

Lord willing, all will be as I strive for.

Currently Editing: Genesis
Currently Reading: The Once and Future King by T.H. White
Currently Listening to: "Live Like That" by Sidewalk Prophets

Looking Back

About a year ago, my brother Josh asked me where the idea for my story came from. Like many of my conversations with Josh, I remember perfectly where we were. We were driving down to Ocean City for Easter and my mom was passed out, as she always is during a car ride. It was late, maybe around midnight, and his car still wouldn't warm up from my sitting there because of the leather seats.

But as he asked me that question, I fell silent and looked out the window, watching the street lamps flash pass like lightning bugs. It took me a few moments to gather my thoughts, and eventually I said, "I think I wanted wings."

He laughed.

For the remaining hour of the trip I tried to explain myself. I remember, vaguely, that sometime during middle school I began to concoct this idea of being a superhero. What was that like? Then I thought about what I would want as a super power. Everyone wants to do something extraordinary, I think. Even though fancy mind powers would be awesome, I always wanted to fly. See, I was that kid that whenever a gust of wind would hit me, I would begin to pretend like I was soaring away with it.

Let me surge through the clouds, race an eagle, feel the spray of the ocean as I glide across it. These were (and still are), things I yearn for in a way that can't ever be fulfilled. At least not while on Earth. Our human bodies have far too many frailties as it is. Having wings would only complicate things.

But regardless, I wanted them. I knew I wanted them. End of story. Period.

Then as I talked more about where my ideas stemmed from, I realized I drew a lot of inspiration off of my old Saturday morning cartoons. Pokemon and Digimon chiefly among them. Kids going off having adventures? Yes please! Digimon especially. Because Pokemon was pretty much self-explanatory. Kid wants to train monsters to fight and be awesome. 'K. Got it.

Digimon however held a deeper story. The kids had to save the world. Kids had to save the world. That idea fascinated me. I wanted to do that. I wanted to be a vital role in the occurance of something legendary. I wanted to be part of an epic story people told and retold a million times over. But I was a kid from the suburbs of Philly. The worst that ever happened was occasionally people tried to jump off the bridge across my street and only broke their legs 'cause it wasn't tall enough.

I delved into stories of grandeur. Of sweeping landscapes and rich storytelling. I wanted to be there, and my imagination would let me. So I built on story after story. If I had known about fanfiction back then, I probably would have written up a storm just to get my own spin on something out of my head. But I didn't, so I didn't start writing till middle school.

I remember that my first attempt at writing a book was awful. Absolutely pitiful. I was fourteen, but it was just...no. There's nothing about it except that it was atrocious. At the time, I wanted to tell a story. I had these images in my head that didn't make much sense. I had a few random characters that, back then, were cardboard. And if I just took everything I ever thought was cool from stories or TV shows or movies into it, then it would be awesome.

And it was. For about fifteen seconds. Then I hated it.

But it was a start. I think, whether I realized it or not, I opened my mind to something that unleashed floodgates in my imagination. The fact that I could, if I wanted, write a story that I would love to read. I knew I would love it. And the older I got, the more I doodled. I thought if I could just become good at drawing, maybe then I could draw what I saw in my head.

The problem was, I wasn't getting good at drawing. I was becoming mediocre at it at best. I couldn't draw people, and they were vital to the scenes I saw in my brain. So that meant the whole drawing excuse was out the door. I couldn't write and I couldn't draw. That left movies. Maybe I could get someone to listen to me and I could then get my idea turned into a movie.

Well that was just foolishness.

So out the window that horrible idea went. I threw everything I had even remotely come up with regarding the story I had into a folder on my computer and I pretended like it wasn't there. I actually used to pretend like I wasn't trying to write a story. I acted as though if I didn't write in my journal about it or didn't talk to anyone about it, then it wasn't happening. And since I couldn't, at the time, get any of my family members to read it, I assumed it was crap and got it in my head that only smart, old people wrote books.

I met neither of those qualifications, so I pretended to not want to write books, meanwhile I had this idea growing in my head. The older I got, the more the story progressed. I knew, even when I was young, that it was going to be a series. I just used to think it was a lot dumber back then. Really, it was absurdity wrapped into stupidity flambeed over ignorance.

I doodled more, hoping that something might come to me. Around eleventh grade I began to mold the story more, trying to make sense of it. I knew I wanted to be important. I wanted to be special. And seeing as I was an ordinary, boring teacher's pet of a student, I knew that was never going to happen. So I made up a story in which I could be whatever I wanted.

At the time I just named the character something silly and pretended I was that person. The stories never got off page two, but I was trying. At least I was coming up with something slightly better. Slightly better than what I had come up with when I was in middle school. Somehow though, my middle school attempt reaching forty pages was looking a whole lot better, simply because it had gotten farther. But each time I tried to reread it, I was bored the whole time.

I knew that if I didn't like the story and couldn't get into it, then there wasn't a purpose.

Then God's grace landed me in a Creative Writing class that changed everything. I wrote a twenty page kick start to my first book. It was awful and whenever I go back and reread it, I realize it was my life, but how I thought it should have been. It wasn't until much later that I realized that no matter how much I wanted to live this life, it wasn't mine. I was writing someone else's adventure, and she wasn't me. She's my alter ego instead, everything I wish I could be and am glad I'm not at the same time.

Now, through all that crap, we land on the morning when I start writing the fifth book.

Funny how God changes our plans, huh?

Currently Editing: Alaster

Currently Writing: Revelation

Currently Reading: Eldest by Christopher Paolini

Currently Listening to: "Homecoming" by Thomas Bergersen