Category: The Writing

I had a huge realization after I went to bed last night. 

See, the most precious thing has been happening with this story.  In that dreamy land between awake and asleep when I first go to bed, I’ve been dreaming Story.  I love it.  I wish it happened every single night, but what I’ve learned is that it really only happens when I’m DEEP in the Well.  When every comment or song or image has the power to speak to me in the language of that particular story.  When I hear a song and unexpectedly nearly burst into tears because it reminds me of the emotion in the story.

THAT’s magic, and what drives me as a writer.  I love those moments.

So there I lay last night, drifting off to sleep, and I realized I had not yet done enough redeeming in order for Mykal to receive his heart’s desire.  I was missing something.  Or rather, he had not yet rid himself of something.  I dreamed his Dream, then, and it took everything I thought I knew and turned it all on its head again, yet fits perfectly with everything I’ve known all along.  I know that doesn’t make sense, exactly, but that’s why it’s so cool.

And of course, the key with Mykal is that he can always do what her Blood cannot.  That’s his gift to her, and his danger.

Today: 2,637  3,447

NaNo Total: 75,661 76,471

Snippet:  I adore this scene.  It brings Keldari culture and directly applies it to the plot and characterization.  If you’ve read the Keldari Fire novellas and have seen “My water is yours,” this is what it all means underneath the surface.

An intolerable eternity later, she finally pushed tiredly up out of her chair and led the way toward her bedchamber without a single glance in Mykal’s direction.  He could almost convince himself she’d forgotten about his presence entirely, but a tenseness remained in her shoulders even after she shut the door and privacy was ensured.

Outwardly, she remained controlled and calm.  The First Blood helped remove her armor, he and the red-haired warrior speaking to her soothingly, giving her the intimate little touches that spoke of great affection and dedication.  Inwardly, though, Mykal swore a fierce storm blew in her so cold that it burned.  She felt brittle and sharp in his mind, as though…

As though she might break.

Sympathy and understanding welled within him.  She’d nearly lost those she held most dear, after already suffering great loss.  She needed to release this storm of emotion with her beloved, but she dared not break down before him, a man she rightfully did not trust.  He watched, silently, trying to decide whether she would most appreciate the dragon or the savage.  Should he offer arrogance, and thus drive her to battle and violence?  Or better yet, he would once more do what her Blood could not.

“In the desert,” he began, ignoring the fierce glares from her two closest warriors, “I would offer you what small water I possessed in exchange for hospitality.  Whether you accepted me into your tent only, or your sepah, the entire encampment, or not at all, would be entirely up to you.  Keldar is a hard land, a hard life, and you might as easily kill me where I knelt.  Water is all in the desert, more precious than blood or family, and if you accepted me, you would be required to share your stores with me.  Most guests are killed outright to spare the water, so to offer hospitality first with no gift from me, and then allow me into your private tent, is truly rare.”

She listened but couldn’t look at him. 

Slowly so as not to alarm her guard, he unbuckled the leather straps crossed over his chest and disarmed himself, handing his weapons to the nearest warrior.  Letting the taamid slip to the floor, he held his hands palm forward at his sides and slowly moved closer.   Both warriors bristled, but he came only near enough so she could breathe his scent and touch him if she desired, where he knelt at her feet. 

“Once accepted, a guest is often proven more loyal than even a rav or brother by blood.  He’s been given water, the most precious commodity in all the desert, followed by shelter from the punishing sun.  A guest who dared to kill or harm his host would be the vilest of all creatures, worse than any scavenger or jackal.  We Keldari would rather take by force or die in the attempt than sneak and steal a single drop of water.

“My water is yours.”  He softened his voice and hung his head, deliberately shaking his hair forward to hide his face.  “My heart is yours, my very life.”

Still loose, his hair pooled on the white marble like the foul oil slick spreading in his soul.  Shadowed he may be, but he came on bended knee and offered all that he had, willingly, to her, with no pride, no honor, to stand between them.  If he didn’t think she’d regret the loss too greatly, he’d hack off his hair, the last symbol of honor that he did not deserve.

“You accepted me as guest into your private tent.”  He bowed low, pressing his mouth to the white floor.  He rose slightly, and then leaned closer, slowly stretching out his head to press his lips to her boot.  “That you might additionally offer a single, precious tear humbles me, brightheart.” 

Her breath snagged loudly in her throat, the sob bitten off before it could escape, but her bond shimmered with rains and winds that had not graced the desert in a thousand years and more.

Keeping his eyes low so as not to force aggression on her warriors, he carefully lifted his mouth and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of her right hand.  “You made a promise to your Red.  Let not my presence as guest interfere.”

I got on a roll tonight.  When you read this snippet, you’ll understand why.  After 70K+ of Dancing the Blades through dreams and plots, Shannari and Mykal finally recognized each other and stood face to face.

Part 2 Session: 2,570

NaNo Total: 73,024

Snippet:  Longer, but you’ll see why.

“What of us, Your Majesty?” 

Slowly, she turned back to the waiting tals.  She quickly glanced at each, unwilling to scrutinize them openly, but she still couldn’t tell one from another.  Sandalwood smelled stronger, but it came from all three.  He must be deliberately sharing his scent with the others to mask his presence. 

Which irritated her to no end.  She’d hinted that she could smell him all the way from Shanhasson.  Why did it matter if she knew which tal was the one from her Dreams?  Did he not hold her bond?  Had he not won her blood?  Eyes narrowed, she tugged on that black bond in her mind, willing him to betray himself with a sound, a move, but they all three stood silent and proud.

Her gaze lingered on the last warrior.  His heavy cloak had fallen about his shoulders, revealing loose hair as black as hers, gleaming with oil in the sunlight.  The other tals wore their hair tightly pulled back from their faces in one long braid down their backs.  His hair blended with the cape so that she couldn’t tell how long it was exactly, but it looked incredibly soft and shiny.  If it smelled like sandalwood…

Unconsciously, she took a step closer.  Dharman bumped into her slightly, warning her back, breaking the moment of attraction.  Behind her, Sal muttered beneath his breath, “It’s always the hair.  I wonder if she’d love me as much if I shaved mine off.”

“You’re welcome to try,” she growled.  

Sal laughed and gave a little toss of his head so his blood-auburn hair tumbled over her shoulder.

She fisted her hand in that heavy silk and tugged firmly, drawing a low rumble from him.  “You know I’d love you bald, but I’d much rather have your hair wrapped around me at night, if only to annoy Dharman.”

Despite their teasing, the tal didn’t miss that moment of intensity, and his eyes widened slightly.  She even thought they lightened a moment, a cast of silver, perhaps?  She didn’t dare study him openly, and at her next glance, his eyes were just as dark as the others’.  For whatever reason, the Black Dragon wished to remain hidden among his comrades, so she’d play along.  For now.

“One of you,” she stared at each tal a moment, letting him feel the pulse of holy water in her gaze, “already bears my bond.  One of you already wears my mark in his flesh.  One of you is already bound to me heart and soul.  If you three and your ravs wish to accompany me to the Palace, I’ll allow it, but no other Keldari may enter the Shining Walls.  To cross the Gate without my permission will bring your death.”

“And the challenge?”  The middle tal smiled so widely his face must hurt.  “Will you allow us to join the Dance?”

“The only tal I’ll discuss challenge with is the one who bears my mark.”  Her lips curved in a fierce smile just as wide.  “He’d better have a care that my Blood don’t carve that mark from his flesh when he approaches me.”

A thought occurred to her that turned her smile of dominance into something closer to seduction, which shook the wide smile off the middle tal’s face.  Indeed, all three stiffened expectantly. 

This Black held her bond.  So she would use it against him.  

The black serpent in her mind coiled tighter and hissed warningly.

She lowered her lashes, turning her head slightly away from them, while she remembered the spicy taste of his blood, his thigh gripped in her jaws, the steel of his erection brushing her cheek, the pleasure that had poured through her from his blood alone.  She ached to taste him again.

The tal with the incredible hair shivered, the black cloak whispering against the grass, betraying his movement.

“The hair,” Sal repeated, shaking his head.

“And the blood.”  Dharman stared at the savage, his muscles straining, his stance widening in aggression.  “Do you desire him now, na’lanna, or later?”

“Later,” she said, shrugging casually, and turned her back on them all.  She even managed to smile at Varne, which made the glowering warrior stumble a step.  “Or perhaps not at all.”

She started back toward Shanhasson, dismissing the Keldari entirely.  A scuffle behind her accompanied a rush of determination through the Black Dragon’s bond.  He surged toward her, ignoring the rahkes flashing at him, the shouted warning from the Sha’Kae al’Dan, and the grim fury of her Blood.  She felt each rahke take a piece of him but he refused to stop, and her Blood knew her heart.

They would not kill him, not unless she wished it, and Lady help her, she didn’t wish him dead.

Shannari didn’t even turn around, but when his hand landed on her shoulder, she whipped the white rahke back into his groin.  Panting, he pressed against her back despite the blade she held.  She was fully prepared to gut him as she’d done to Theo.  The tal’s scent rolled over her, burning sandalwood and blowing desert sands, his hair heavy and soft with oil.

“Or perhaps now,” he whispered against her cheek.

Ever so slowly, she turned her face around toward his, shifting enough to look him in the eye.  “What is your name?” she asked, using the rahke to punctuate her threat.

“Mykal.”    

“Mykal,” she whispered, letting his name roll on her tongue like fine wine.  “If you come with me, I’m going to ask my Blood to pin you flat on your back with their rahkes so I may wallow in your blood and taste every wound we’ve given you.”

His eyes bled silver, his dragon peeking out from behind his dark desert eyes.  “Every wound?”

She nodded slowly.  Lady above, her mouth watered at the thought.

“My heart beats for you, brightheart.”  He pushed harder on her rahke until the blade broke his skin.  His breath sighed out against her lips.  “Do as you will with me.”

Up Dark & Early this morning and eager, because I’d dreamed the next part of the section prior to falling completely asleep last night.  I had a moment of panic at first, that I’d forgotten the details, but they came to me after I got going.  I’ve switched POV several times and those sections are short (about 1K each).  I don’t like such short sections, but I can always expand later with more agony and despair.  Haha.

Today: 1,237

NaNo:  70,454

Snippet:  Again, I can’t give too many details else risk spoiling the plot, but I think you can tell from this section that Shannari is in a very bad spot.

:How can I know?:  Despair choked her, even while her fury clawed higher.  The White Dragon screamed inside her, stronger than ever.  Had the bond with the Black given her Dream even greater strength?  :How can I ever trust them again?:

The Black Dragon purred with great enjoyment.  Was he smug because she had no one left to trust?  Or was he still basking in his victory?  :There is a way.:

Considering today was my first day back at the Evil Day Job after a week of vacation, I’m lucky to get any writing done at all today.  I didn’t make it up Dark & Early, and started work early because I knew I’d have a gazillion e-mails to catch up on.  After resolving half a dozen testing feedbacks or so and sitting through a couple of emergency catch up meetings (no lunch hour to sneak in even a little writing), I think I’m nearly back to square one at work.

So not a lot of wordage tonight, but SIGNIFICANT plot developments.  Oh, I’m doing some bad, bad things.  *laughs wickedly*  Climax One is almost resolved.  I have fallout to deal with, an uneasy truce to work out, and then plot how the second climax will make things even worse.  I feel the downhill slide just around the corner…

Today:  1,310

NaNo Total:  69,217

Snippet:  Again, hard to say much without spoilers, so I can only give little bits.  This is a killer scene.

Dharman pushed up to his elbows and bit back the scream of pain so hard his teeth jammed together.  Steel grated inside him, tearing his internal organs even more, but he flung himself after her.  His body before any threat, so he’d sworn.  The Vulkar-damned beast would have to eat him first.

It might be the end of November, the official ending of NaNoWriMo, but I have yet to find “The End” of my story, and so the craziness continues.

I had hoped to brainstorm plot with my Beloved Sis yesterday at Granny’s, but while we did talk Story a bit, I didn’t get any brilliant revelations as I hoped.  I still had no idea what was going to happen.

I had stupid dreams all night (yeah, one of those where clothing is missing!) and barely dragged myself up for church after such a hard night.  However, somewhere today, I found the details of the first Climax.

I don’t even remember the exact moment, which is weird.  It must have been gradual, a slow, gentle revelation that built brick by brick until I can see it all so clearly in my mind.  YES.  I know how the Black Dragon wins his way into Shanhasson.  I know a few more tidbits that lead toward the second Climax.  This story is looking like it’ll get a third major twist.  One character I’ve known since Rose is going to betray her.  The intermediate plot point is still foggy, and may be part of the third, I’m not sure yet.  There’s going to be a major decision made in those pages, and I still don’t know that answer.  I guess I’ll see.

Trust the magic, I keep telling myself.  The magic is there and it when it all unravels and becomes clear, I’ll be stunned that such and such had already happened that set everything up perfectly.  It’s happened many times before, but I admitted to Molly yesterday that I always fear THIS will be the time that the magic fails me.

Today:  2,003

Return total:  67,907

Snippet:  Hmmm.  It’s going to be hard.  After all, this is the major climax/surprise plot point, so I don’t want to give anything away.  Basically, three Keldari tals stand at the Shining Gates, and she has no idea which one is the Black Dragon.  She’s not close enough to smell them, and there’s nothing visibly to differentiate one from another.

“We have a custom in the deserts that no tal may be named azi until he claims a White.  You, Your Majesty, are the Last Daughter, the Last White known to us.  We wish to court you.”

She couldn’t help but laugh.  According to the Black Dragon’s Dreams, “courting” meant tossing her to a vengeful dragon who’d rip her limb from limb.  “Surely you jest, gentlemen.”

“Did you not declare a challenge?”  The tal on the left asked, a small smile flickering on his lips so quickly she almost missed it.  The little curl of smugness was awfully familiar.  “If any man wishes to wed you, he must challenge your Blood, iyeh?  We wish to join the challenge.  We three will fight, and the last standing will then fight your Blood.”

“Absolutely out of the question,” she retorted.  Her heart pounded so hard her head echoed with the sound.  Wind nickered, her head swinging to the south with her ears perked expectantly.  No, not her heart, then; the Sha’Kae al’Dan came at a hard gallop up High Road. 

“Interesting,” the tal in the middle said loudly, rolling his eyes at her and pitching his voice to the savages behind him.  “The High Queen is not a woman of her word after all.”

“I had heard there was no challenge she would not meet,” the tal on the right said just as loudly.

“The High Queen of the Green Lands never runs,” the tal on the left whispered, flashing that faint curl of his lips again.  “Yet she runs from us.”

  “Prepare to open the Gates,” she shouted to the men on the wall.  The tals smiled, sharing condescending, knowing glances at one another.  Lady above, she hoped that Khul rode them all down like dogs as he brought his warriors into Shanhasson.

I made it official: 

It’s been slow going the last few days.  I’ve been working on the same agonizing (nagging) scene for an eternity, or so it seems, but at least I have touched it every single day.  Finally on the road back and forth to Granny’s (my mom) today, I finally reached a good stopping point.  I need to change POV — I’m sick of being in Shannari’s head — but Dharman has nothing to add right now.  So I don’t know what goes here, and quite honestly, I don’t care.  I can fix this later.

What’s really troubling me is the big showdown in Shanhasson.  I have an enemy advancing hard and fast from the west, bringing a Black Dragon that Shannari only knows from Dreams.  Whether the Black will prove lover or deadly foe, yet, I have no idea.  Meanwhile, I have the Sha’Kae al’Dan galloping at all speed from the Plains to answer her Call.  AND, I have a hidden agenda inside Shanhasson that plans to take advantage of the overt conflicts to stage a coup.  The latter thread is basically non-existent right now.  I’ve hinted, and I know who the main plotter is, but I need a twist, a surprise, and I don’t know what it is.  I figured I’d learn it at the right time, and then go back and drop the little trail of bread crumbs that are missing right now.

So all these threads are converging at a hard gallop, and I HAVE NO IDEA how it all plays out.  Oh, I have feelings, a bit of a scene here and there, and I know the basic RESULT.  I just don’t know how it all plays out and where all the cards will fall.  What will force Shannari’s hand into allowing her greatest enemy inside the Shining Walls?  Will the Black Dragon be redeemed or not? 

This is the heart of the story.  All three books have been leading to this moment.  The Trinity’s story plays out one final time in Shanhasson.  Black, Red, White.  One always dies to pay the final sacrifice.  Who will it be this time?

Or can I find a way to save them all?

Meanwhile, we watched Hancock last night with mixed results.  I absolutely LOVED parts of it.  I despised other parts.  That movie is still bothering me, and I know it’s going to influence what I have planned out in Shanhasson.  Black and White are always drawn to each other, and nearly always die once they come together.  This is my chance to make it right, and I assure you, Shannari plays a much more crucial role than “I’m so much stronger than you but I’m not going to lift a finger to protect anyone, but simply live out my happy little life with my family,” Mary Embrey.  What a disappointment.

Accumulated new words in current scene: 1,929

NaNo Total:  65,904

Snippet:  Still nagging.  Sigh.  But here’s a sentence that cracks me up.

“You may take me at the bottom of the pool until I drown for all I care.”

As my last post implies, I was one busy puppy today.  It took off and on all day, but I ended up getting a nice amount of words considering how many errands I ran all day.  This is a tough scene.  I wanted to skip it because I knew it’d be hard, but that’s the coward’s way out.  I can’t share much at all because it’s all nagging.  *winks*

Today:  1,565

NaNo: 63,975

Snippet:

Vulkar certainly made impressive warriors.

Tough day but I hung in there and finally got Mykal’s response to yesterday’s debacle.  *laughs*  See if you can decipher “who” shows up near the end of the snippet.

Today:  1,318

NaNo: 62,410

Snippet:

“Impressive,” he whispered, shaking his head with a wry smile.  “I didn’t expect her to kill so many before we even started this dance.”

“And the rest flee!  We had an army she couldn’t possibly defeat, and now only a handful will be stupid enough to risk setting a single foot on her precious Green Lands.” 

Ignoring him, Mykal felt his heart stutter oddly and stumble to a halt.  Reflexively, he touched his chest, waiting long agonizing moments.  Pain banded his chest, his breath wheezing in his throat, Shadow enclosing him in deadly wings.

His heart refused to beat, which meant hers wasn’t beating.  He’d Given his heart to her, so when she died, he would too.  If her heart ceased to beat…

He reached down the bond to fly toward her heart, although she remained miles away in Shanhasson.  She lay crumpled on the Great Seal, her hair and gown dripping wet, plastered to her body.  Her young Red clutched her to his chest, smoothing her hair from her face, whispering urgently to her.

The connection was so strong that Mykal could hear the boy’s words.

“Please, na’lanna, take a breath.  Just one.”

Mykal staggered and fell to one knee, bracing himself on his left hand to keep from tumbling face first into the sand.  :Iyeh, brightheart, just one breath.  Will you let me take this dance so easily?:

Hovering over her, so close, he could almost touch her.  He stretched harder, his right hand reaching through time and space to stroke her cheek, to finger one of those beautiful marks on her body and dream about where his might lay beneath her creamy flesh, just waiting for his teeth to bring it out.

Her eyes flew open and she sucked in a deep, loud breath.  His heart crashed against his ribcage, thumping frantically to catch up to hers.  She saw him, somehow, staring directly into his eyes.  Her hand floated toward him, her mouth moving, but he couldn’t hear her. 

:Give me your blood, brightheart, and I’ll hear every–:

Something hard and cold shoved beneath his chin, snapping his head back, his teeth crashing together.  It flung him back so hard he stared up at the slip of moon again, flat on his back in the damp sand.

“What is wrong with you?”  Gana cursed and grabbed a handful of taamid to shake him thoroughly.  “Are you drunk?”

Mykal caught a flicker of Shadow, a small gleam of white, and then the presence was gone.  Something–or someone–had warned him off quite effectively.  He couldn’t help but laugh.  These warriors of hers would surely give him a beautiful dance.