By The Time I Negotiated

  • by KentPumpkin Spice Latte M&Ms
  • and a tiny piece of cellophane
  • didn’t exactly “scrub the mug,” but
  • narcissistic to the extreme
  • fancy material, no question

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By the time I negotiated enough turnings in the hedge maze to reach the source of the music, the first chorus was done. I might have gotten there quicker if I hadn’t felt compelled to form the letters ‘Y, M, C, A’ with my body as I moved.

The stage was built of a hard substance that sparkled, possibly a natural mineral or perhaps something meant for high-end countertops, but fancy material, no question. The singers on that stage were less impressive. I could tell by their desultory choreography that they were all narcissistic to the extreme, too preoccupied with themselves to stay synced up to each other. They did have respectable costumes, but sadly not the physiques to really make them work.

The music abruptly stopped. “Who are you?” demanded the tubby performer in the cop costume. His mirror shades were perched on the tip of his nose, and the look he gave me over them didn’t exactly “scrub the mug,” but it was at least “drying the silverware” if you know what I mean. The construction worker lifted his hard hat, and a tiny piece of cellophane stayed behind, clinging to his bald head.

“I’m a Contrarian general,” I said. “And I order you to start that song over. I’m singing lead this time!”

“Ha!” the biker said. “We’re not your soldiers to be bossed around. Nobody talks like that to the Pumpkin Spice Latte M&Ms!”

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The Women Continued on Without Me

  • by jena very acceptable person as far as we were concerned
  • at the top of their lungs
  • doing a weird semi run waddle
  • my head whirled in dizziness
  • I am a full-on karaoke person

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The women continued on without me. I stumbled to my feet and found Heinrich proffering a garden hose, which I used to rinse off. As I sat in the sun to dry off, Heinrich said, “Svetlana and I are in the market for a third, and Marnie was a very acceptable person as far as we were concerned. She’s petite enough that she’ll fit in the harness with Svetlana.” He gave me a wry look. “Assuming you didn’t just get one or both of them pregnant.”

I had nothing to say to that, which was fine because the women announced their own umbrellas’ inversions at the top of their lungs and anything I said would have been lost in the erotic cacophony.

As I dressed, Heinrich readied the hose again and went around the hedge doing a weird semi run waddle, with his half-removed bear suit dragging behind him. I wanted to leave before they came back, but couldn’t remember if I was supposed to be gathering information from them. When I tried to piece together the numerous conspiracies I was surrounded by, my head whirled in dizziness. Deciding that if I left I would only invite more chaos into my life, I stayed put.

From far away in the garden I heard the thumping beat of YMCA. You might not know this about me, but I am a full-on karaoke person, and few songs get me as jazzed as that disco classic. I jumped to my feet and got ready to sing.

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Everyone Is the Hero of Their Own Backstory

Backstory can be tricky to manage. How much of it to show, and how to present it, are thorny questions. It’s really a matter of drawing a line between those things that you as an author need to know, and those that the reader needs. What goes into that second category is the difficult answer to come up with. Some say that the reader needs no backstory whatsoever, while others say it all depends.

But we’re going to focus on the other side of the equation today. So, which things must you, the author, know about your characters’ backstories? All of them. All the things.

Our approach is to flesh out everybody’s backstories during our preliminary phase, which mostly happens while walking the dogs. (If they get bored with all the exposition, they never complain.) What we’ve learned is that there’s a lot of value in knowing the detailed history of even a very minor character. Naturally, it helps us create vivid depictions, and it allows all the cast members to show up ready for work. But in addition to these fairly obvious gains, digging into secondary and even tertiary characters’ pasts has produced a few interesting outcomes.

  • Minor characters have morphed into major characters.
  • Minor characters’ peccadilloes have answered questions about major characters.
  • Important world-building notes have emerged.
  • We’ve spotted useful plot connections and subplots.

Just remember: now that you know Marcel got in trouble when he was in third grade for trying to cheat on a test, you’re not obligated to tell anybody else.

Several Hummingbirds Flitted

  • by Kentattracted by the scent
  • The only thing he never changed was his shoes.
  • keep trying to convince Fernando to get bunkbeds
  • conference and magic show
  • my umbrella turned inside out

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Several hummingbirds flitted about Marnie, Svetlana, and me, no doubt attracted by the scent of the flowering hedges but seemingly curious about us as well. Marnie spoke in a dreamer’s voice, telling us many unwelcome factoids about her husband. “He changed his pants and his shirts multiple times every day. And his socks. And underwear. The only thing he never changed was his shoes. He had the same ones for years.” This droning recitation did help with my tantric capacity, much to Svetlana’s pleasure and Heinrich’s impatience.

He had taken out his phone to pass the time, muttering to himself about the conversations he was reviewing. “Why does Betsy keep trying to convince Fernando to get bunkbeds?” This, too, impeded my progress, even more than the sight of contortionist Svetlana partaking of Nurse Marnie advanced it.

“Abracadabra,” Svetlana said, dropping me a wink. I knew instantly she was referring to my exploits on a windy, rainy night at a lepidopterist conference and magic show. I knew I should be worried that she woud possess such knowledge of my past, but the reminder of that night was a potent erotic trigger. In moments, my umbrella turned inside out, so to speak.

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“I Want Him Back for the Same Reason I Married Him”

  • by jenone thing led to another
  • tempt you into sleeping with your ex
  • with tantric sex thrown in
  • the madman could have still been in the house
  • up to my ankles in long wet grass

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“I want him back for the same reason I married him in the first place,” said Marnie. “Revenge.”

Svetlana gasped. Heinrich chortled and scratched his belly. Marnie explained that her family and her husband’s had been feuding for generations and that their marriage was actually an elaborate ploy on both sides to wreak havoc. She went into great detail and I got a little bored with her tale, and one thing led to another, and eventually I confronted the trio in the clearing.

Svetlana’s eyes lit up when she saw me. Heinrich said, “Ignore him, sweeting, he’s merely going to try to tempt you into sleeping with your ex.”

“We were never a couple,” I said.

“It wouldn’t take much to tempt me,” Svetlana said. “I quite enjoyed our last romp.”

“I don’t have time right now,” I lied. I needed to find a way out of this garden if I wanted to get back to my life, whatever my life looked like now.

Svetlana rose to her feet and began a swaying, hypnotic dance. She approached me while Heinrich grumbled and scratched his belly some more. “Could I tempt you,” Svetlana asked, “with tantric sex thrown in? I’ve learned a few things since the last time we were together.” She pressed herself against my bare chest and I could not resist. We tumbled together into a hollow beneath the shrubberies for a rousing game Svetlana called The Madman and the Housekeeper. I was the housekeeper.

At some point Marnie joined us. The madman could have still been in the housekeeper’s headlock at that point, but I can’t remember for sure. It went on for a very long time, and was very invigorating. Finally Heinrich called, “Svetlana, are you about done? We need to get going.”

Svetlana arched her back and replied, “I’m up to my ankles in long wet grass! Give me a moment!”

She being a contortionist, Svetlana’s ankles weren’t currently located where you might suppose, which made her comment about the grass a little more impressive.

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Belly of the Beast

The finale of Son of Science Novel has a lot going on. There’s physical peril, and emotional stakes, and a lot of difficult moments for all of the characters. The reader gets to witness the action through the eyes of both the good guys and the bad guys. It’s quite spectacular, if we do say so ourselves.

As part of our quest to streamline things where we can, and make the novel the best it can be, we started to wonder if maybe a certain side-thread through the ending was maybe superfluous (well, Kent did anyway). We spread the scene out on the exam table and took a close look, and we found many items in favor of keeping it.

Its setting — we’ll call it the Elephant Graveyard — is threaded throughout the novel, and comes up again in Book 3, so giving it a job in the climax feels right. The characters that go off to the elephant graveyard need to have jobs to do, and this fits well with their skillset. If we remove their side quest we need to find a different way for them to contribute to the action, and that would mean replotting the whole ending. And we’re really, really happy with the other parts of the ending. Like, seriously thrilled. But must important is that the elephant graveyard gives the characters a really nice moment, and puts a nice bow on the arc that one of them has traveled through the novel. Plus it sets them both up nicely for the third book. So the thread is definitely staying.

But the fact that we, as the authors, had doubts, means it’s not as strong as it should be. We need to do a better job of sketching that character’s arc so that when the reader gets to this part they can’t look away.

Svetlana Laughed Heartily

  • by Kentbrave enough to try something this strange and enchanting
  • the eyeliner, the desperation
  • strange, but harmless enough
  • stayed up all night to drunkenly hook up
  • expensive adulterous affairs

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Svetlana laughed heartily. “I never would have guessed you were brave enough to try something this strange and enchanting!”

Marnie gave a bashful half-curtsey, playing the vamp. But from my place of concealment in the hedges I saw it all: the feigned confidence, the eyeliner, the desperation. She knew she was falling in with a rough crowd. She sighed. “Enchanting? I wouldn’t say so. I guess it is strange, but harmless enough, to want to trap a man. It’s how we met, even. I stayed up all night to drunkenly hook up with him. He thought he’d seduced me, and I played upon his sense of chivalry to make him propose. Then as soon as we were married he commenced a series of expensive adulterous affairs.”

Svetlana turned somber. “And you want him back, why exactly?”

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In the Past

  • by jenwith glitter and colored glass
  • even on a dare
  • It’s another ritual.
  • The internet’s first conspiracy theory
  • He probably thought you were trying to trap him

Tune in next time part 519      Click Here for Earlier Installments

In the past when I received a letter like Marnie’s, it came in a box filled with glitter and colored glass slippers I would never wear, not even on a dare. Some people might think the whole thing is a test or a joke, but it’s not. It’s another ritual. Contrarian, of course.

The internet’s first conspiracy theory was about Contrarian rituals, and most of the conspiracies since have been, too, even if inadvertently. Contrarian rituals are complex and ubiquitous. How could I extract poor Marnie Glockenspiel from this ritual she didn’t even know she was participating in?

I heard Svetlana say, “I don’t think your husband was kidnapped at all. He probably thought you were trying to trap him, and fled. Men do that, you know.”

“Oh, but I was trying to trap him!” Marnie declared.

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That Frisson of Excitement

There are many reasons it’s great to write with a partner. We talk a lot on this blog about the practical benefits, but what’s really best about writing with the right partner? It’s fun!

The Ghost Story is in a very preliminary stage right now, so it’s pretty much all brainstorming. It’s fun to make stuff up even when you do it alone, but having someone to respond to your ideas and raise suggestions that you’d never have thunk up makes it a lot more exciting.

On a recent canine-mandated forced march around the village, we were developing Ghost Story ideas and Jen suggested something really cool involving minerals. Kent put a bit of a spin on it, which prompted a further modification back from Jen, and we went back and forth like that until we finished the lap.

And it felt so freakin’ awesome. Yeah, yeah — stronger ideas, teamwork, synergy — but the point of this installment isn’t that collaboration leads to better work. The point is that it makes work a lot more enjoyable.

The right writing partner is someone who makes you want to write more.

Marnie Glockenspiel Took a Paper

  • by Kentaddressed to her husband
  • Even your fingernails
  • Nor am I trying to repay you with money
  • I do not care to be hypnotized
  • such a methodical revenge

Tune in next time part 518      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Marnie Glockenspiel took a paper out of a pocket of her nurse uniform. She explained to Heinrich and Svetlana that it was a letter addressed to her husband, which had arrived only after he disappeared. She read them a few lines, faltering over the strange syntax, then sobbed that the whole letter made no sense.

It was obviously in code, and in fact it was one I was fluent with. I could help Marnie figure out what her husband had been mixed up in.

But Svetlana kept badgering her about crawling under Heinrich’s clothes as a way to travel. “Even your fingernails won’t bother him, he has such a thick hide,” she assured Marnie.

“Look,” the erstwhile nurse said, “I do really appreciate the ride you already gave me. It’s gotten me this far, which is worth something. But I can’t become any more deeply indebted to you. Nor am I trying to repay you with money, for the simple reason that I have none. My mission is to find my husband, and I do not care to be hypnotized by the uncanny motion of your limbs. Besides, it’s impractical. I can’t travel as you do, because unlike you I am not a contortionist.”

“You’re overlooking one thing,” Heinrich put in. “Without us, you’re stuck here. There’s something in that letter about a bear, right? You think that’s a coincidence?”

Svetlana chortled.

Everything about Marnie’s situation clicked in my mind. Someone had kidnapped her husband, so that they could send a letter to him that she would read, which would take her to this place, and make her susceptible to the flimsy rationale of two criminals inside a bear suit. But who would trouble themselves to take such a methodical revenge on a nurse?

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