Tag: novel

The Trickster’s Lament preview

Yes, indeed, I have been working on my second book all this time! And now that it is nearing completion, I’m happy to share a sneak peak of The Trickster’s Lament, continuation of the Greek god Hermes’ adventures in the modern world and sequel to A God Walks Up to the Bar.

—

In my long life, I’ve awakened to many unpleasant sensations. The awareness that I was drowning swiftly found its place as among the worst.

Consciousness returned slowly. My muddled mind tried to take stock of my surroundings, but failed to comprehend. And so, I obeyed my body’s first instinct, which was to open my mouth and take a deep breath. For that, I received a mouthful of water straight down my windpipe. I choked. The spasm triggered another reflexive breath and more water filled my lungs.

My eyelids snapped open, and I looked around in pain and mounting panic. I rotated my body down to look at the murky blackness beneath my feet, then upward toward the white sun splintered into fragments by the water’s rippling surface. I made frantically for that light, swinging my arms in wide strokes that strained my half-drowned body. Black dots skewered my vision, and every movement was agony. I was dying.

I couldn’t actually die from drowning, of course. One would think that would be an advantage. But my body wasn’t immune to harm, merely to death. I could feel the water in my lungs cutting off the flow of oxygen to my brain. I could feel my heartbeat slow as vital organs succumbed. I could feel every second of my body’s suffering. No, I wouldn’t die. I’d just be reduced to a limbo state, a piece of litter drifting along the currents.

I retched and vomited. A current pushed the warm mess back into my face. A painful twitch in my throat forced me to take another breath. The same water I’d ejected was sucked back in.

I felt a tinge of envy for mortals. Such a uniquely morbid sensation, dying but not being able to die. Feeling the blood in your veins pool and thicken into sludge, and your clogged respiratory system desperately tried to pump out water faster than it was taking it in. My skull felt like it was cracking apart as my brain functions collapsed. Pure animal instinct was all that kept me moving.

Dying, but unable to die. Lucky me.

Eyes bulging out of my head and white-hot pain searing every cell in my body, I broke the surface. Water and vomit erupted from my mouth in a geyser. For the next few moments, I just floated on the waves. My body needed time to heal itself and return to proper working order. My vision gradually cleared of fluttering black flecks, and my thoughts readjusted into more complex patterns than “Oh, dear Hera, I need to breathe.” While I waited for my strength to return, I looked about and saw only rolling waves and a pale sun winking from a cloud-streaked sky. No land was visible. I was alone in the Atlantic.

—

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Committing to First-Person Narratives

When you think of writing a book, “commitment” is a word you might associate with time discipline, writing a certain number of words per day, or setting aside a chunk of your budget for publishing and marketing. You wouldn’t necessarily think of the writing itself. After all, writing is all about making changes. That’s what drafts are for! But there is at least one piece of the puzzle on which you have to make a choice early on, and from which backing out can be painful. That is choosing your narrative point-of-view.

Now, third-person is common and popular, but what if you go for first-person? Ah, then you really have to commit, because first-person narrative has a whole set of pros and cons to it that change the way you tell the story.

The pros? Writing in first-person lets you get inside the head of your POV character, whether they be the protagonist or someone else, and really dig into their psychology and the world they live in. It’s a very personal method of storytelling. You really get to know who this character is as a person. Plus, you get to shape the story and its twists and surprises in a fairly organic way. The reader can only know what the narrator knows (or thinks they know). And the narrator doesn’t have to be honest or reliable.

On the other hand, first-person limits the scope of your storytelling. You can’t describe a distant scene two countries over, you can’t pull back and dedicate a few paragraphs to an unbiased history of the setting, and most importantly, you are restricted to the one character. You can’t jump between multiple peoples’ perspectives.

Ok, that’s not true. Crazy geniuses can write books that feature multiple POV characters told from multiple first-person perspectives, but I’m not brave enough to try it. But if you have written or read such a book, let me know in the comments. I’d be interested in reading it.

Your narrative is narrow in scope. That’s not to say the story itself has to be . It can be a sprawling epic, but you will only see it through the eyes of one person. That’s why you have to be sure of yourself before you start. You’re gonna have to commit.

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

A Word of Wisdom from Terry Pratchett

Miss Tick sniffed. “You could say this advice is priceless,” she said. “Are you listening?”

“Yes,” said Tiffany.

“Good. Now … if you trust in yourself …”

“Yes?”

“… and believe in your dreams …”

“Yes?”

“… and follow your star …” Miss Tick went on.

“Yes?”

“… you’ll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren’t so lazy. Good-bye.”

Courtesy of The Wee Free Men by Sir Terry Pratchett, 2003

It’s true, you know.