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99 Statues, Part Two

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Two down comforters were draped over them as well; Nicholas could not sleep without their weight on him, while Feniker, who seemed to burn with a furnace's metabolism, would inevitably throw most of them off during the night, onto Nicholas.
(Another excerpt from the story I’m currently working on.)

Nicholas woke slowly. It was chilly in the room, and when he shifted his body between the clinging flannel sheets, he could encounter zones of warmth and cool. Two down comforters were draped over them as well; Nicholas could not sleep without their weight on him, while Feniker, who seemed to burn with a furnace’s metabolism, would inevitably throw most of them off during the night, onto Nicholas.

He could hear Feniker’s soft breathing, a burry almost snore, a sound so uniquely Fen that it tugged a smile onto Nicholas’s lips, knowing what his lover’s face looked like when sleep-slackened, how it must look right now. He had drawn the drapes across the windows; the hotel’s front looked out onto the plaza, but Nicholas had opted for one of the less ostentatious back chambers which he secretly thought more pleasant, overlooking the back gardens, which were the more handsome vista, even when leaf-deprived and blackened by the cold, due to the green cedars that ringed it round.

The hotel was stirring. Soon enough his breakfast, with plenty left over for Feniker, would arrive and be deposited outside the door with a discreet knock. The hotel’s own brand of fish tea, with an odd peppery brackishness. He still wasn’t sure whether or not he liked its aftertaste, even after living in the hotel for almost two months now. He had lived with his father before then, but fire had taken their mansion, and both had taken themselves to alternate lodgings. He had chosen this hotel, which he could afford on his lavish allowance, for the way it managed to combine proximity to the student quarter with luxury.

He rolled on his side and found Feniker watching him, no longer snoring, blue eyes bright in the morning light, almost luminous.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Nicholas said. He leaned over to give Fen a kiss. Fen’s fingers tangled in his hair, drew him down to meet lips.

“What’s on your agenda for today?” Fen said.

“I am meeting with my father to go over the plans for the new factory in Cloudmarch,” Nicholas said.

“Will you be visiting it? The expedition is going through Cloudmarch. You could come out with us, say goodbye there, do whatever you needed to do with the new factory.”

“I would serve my father ill as a factory manager,” Nicholas said. “I’m not good with such things.”

“You have a mind keen enough to keep up with anyone in their classes,” Feniker said. “If you chose to exert yourself. Instead you pretend yourself slower than you are, and use it as excuse to while away your days drinking fish tea and playing cards.” He pushed himself off the bed and strode across the chamber, naked, to reclaim his clothing from the bench below the window.

Nicholas gathered the covers around himself, reluctant to lose their warmth, even in pursuit of what the kiss had promised. “What of you, what does the Duke’s secretary do today?”

Fen shrugged and drew on his trousers, sat down to pull on his boots. Behind him the window panes were laced with frost, a pattern like the ghost effluvium a professor had demonstrated at the last University lecture Nicholas had attended.

Thinking of that, he protested, “I do go to some lectures after all, and meet with Professor Wirewit to work on my paper.”

“Meetings that are few and far between,” Fen said. He caught himself. “Look, I don’t mean to nag you.”

“Will you come tonight and see a play with me?” Nicholas asked.

“I will have papers to transcribe,” Fen said. “I have been burning the candle at both ends, and I must decide where I should be spending my time. I do not mean to imply that it should not be with you, only that I would rather spend time enjoying your company, than sitting together staring down at a stage while the audience gossips so loud that we cannot hear half the lines.”

The reasonable tone, the exaggerated patience in his voice made Nicholas want to smack him.

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What Do You Think Of This Book Synopsis?

Kittywampus
Kittywampus
I’m working on revising my fantasy novel, The Moon’s Accomplice, into a big ol’ sprawling fantasy trilogy. This is a rough stab at Book One, and I would love any feedback on what’s missing or needs tweaking. One of the things I’ve been doing is reading other big ol’ sprawling fantasy novels: the Robert Jordan/Brandon Sanderson Wheel of Time series, George R. R. Martin’s Game of Thrones, Pat Rothfuss’s The Name of the Wind and The Wise Man’s Fear, David Edding’s Belgariad and Robin Hobb’s work. I’m trying to figure out what makes for a successful series. What other series would you suggest looking at? (Note that I have read the LotR a bajillion times.)

Things that seem common to all of them:

  • Engaging, interesting characters, and plenty of time in their heads
  • Landscapes and marvels, plenty of “eyeball kicks
  • Ups and downs, characters enduring vicissitudes and working to do their best in spite of them


Book One begins as Shyra, a Dryad, is brought to the city of Tabat in chains, aboard a steamboat. She doesn’t know why she and a handful of her sisters have been brought to the seaport, but she senses that it’s to no good. They’re already enslaved by a social system where humans rule, asserting their Gods-given right over animals and Beasts, the category into which all intelligent magical creatures like Dryads are relegated.

At the same time far to the north on what the Tabatians consider the rough frontier, young Teo is having similar forebodings ““ his sister is very ill and no one will meet his eyes when speaking of the cure. Teo’s already been rejected by the village because he’s failed to exhibit the shapeshifting powers most of them possess. Finally he discovers that he’s been promised to the Temples of the Moon in Tabat as an acolyte/indentured servant if his sister recovers.

Bella Kanto, premier Gladiator of Tabat, finds herself confronted by a disturbing omen in the form of a lobotomized young Centaur that’s been sold to the Brides of Steel, Tabat’s all-female gladiatorial academy. She goes to see her cousin, Leonoa, a prominent Tabatian artist, only to find Leonoa embroiled in a scandalous love affair. Leonoa shrugs aside conversation, struggling to finish up a few last canvases for a show opening in a few days.

Imprisoned in the Duke’s menagerie, Shyra learns that she and the other Dryads are meant to root and become trees, which will be harvested and fed to the great engine that fuels many of Tabat’s technologies, such as the great Waterfall below the Duke’s castle, the mechanized gondola system that moves the inhabitants from one city terrace to another, and the street lights that show any sign of sorcery or shapeshifter activity on the main streets.

Meanwhile, Teo contemplates fleeing the village. He starts out to do so, only to encounter the Moon priest, Nero, to whom he’s been promised on the road. He and Nero embark on the journey and the stern but sympathetic priest tries to instruct him on the matters he’ll need to know to survive life in the Temple. When Nero breaks his leg, progress is slowed, and even more so when he falls prey to a parasitic fairy in the wilderness. When they arrive at a river town, Nero puts Teo aboard a trade boat, the Eloquent Swan, and entrusts the pilot Archis with getting Teo to the city.

Shyra’s escape is more successful. She manages to slip out of the menagerie and make her way outside Tabat, although she is pursued by the Duke’s Huntress, a relentless and skilled tracker. Nonetheless, Shyra makes her way to the mountains to the northeast of Tabat, where she finds a camp of other escaped Beasts.

When a student of hers from the Brides of Steel is killed in a riot, guilt wracks Bella, particularly since she helped instigate the riot. Political unrest haunts the city, caused by upcoming events: the first election of the Mayor of Tabat, at which point the Duke will reluctantly step down and relinquish his hereditary rule. Bella and the head of the Brides of Steel, Myrila, have a severe falling out. Bella feels she’s been let down by Myrila at a time when she’s facing the pressure of the annual Spring Games. If she assumes the role of Winter and wins, as she has for the past fifteen years, spring will not come to Tabat for another six weeks, impacting trade in a way none of Tabat’s merchants appreciate.

The fireworks of Bella’s victory light the sky the night Teo arrives in Tabat, where he’s entrusted by Archis to Skilto, a merchant-mage handling the Swan’s cargo, more Dryad logs bound for the College of Mages. Skilto lets the boy escape during an accident with one of the logs. Skilto gives the boy’s fate little mind. He’s got his own set of problems, with his father threatening to stop paying his tuition to the College unless Skilto agrees to marry. He’s about to investigate the three candidates presented to him: socialite Lilia Delarose, merchant Marta Lavender, and merchant-historian Ariadne Nittlescent.

Shyra adjusts to life among the escaped Beasts. She’s heartened to hear that they have a plan to free Tabat’s Beasts. They will first infiltrate the city, disguised as the members of the Circus of the Autumn Moon, one of many entertainment troupes drawn to Tabat by the political campaigns and the amount of money being spent on courting political favor. She meets the man who will oversee the Moon, sinister and secretive Murga, whose origins are unknown.

Resolute to avoid the semi-enslavement of Temple life and make his own fate in Tabat, Teo wanders the streets and narrowly escapes being press-ganged. He adapts to life on the streets, begging and scavenging food where he can. He is befriended by a young artist, but disaster follows when his shapeshifting powers unexpectedly manifest. Teo finds himself emperiled by agents of the Duke intent on finding sorcerers and shapeshifters in the city and takes refuge in the Autumn Moon.

A troubled Bella tries to divert herself by taking her friend and sometimes lover Ariadne Nittlescent to the opening of Leonoa’s art show. Skilto and Marta arrive as well, only to find the place the site of a riot incited by the political nature of Leonoa’s paintings, which depict Beasts assuming human roles. Aided by two other gladiators, Bella holds the crowd back long enough to let Leonoa and the other attendees escape.

Skilto’s tried two candidates and found them lacking, although he’s drawn into friendship with Marta Lavender’s father Milosh. When he meets Ariadne at a party, he realizes that she’s the one he’s interested in. Ariadne pays him little mind. She’s too busy thinking about the decision her mother Emilee has made to push Ariadne into political office. Ariadne’s occupied enough with the history of Tabat she’s writing and, unbeknownst to her mother, running a lucrative publishing house specializing in lurid accounts of Bella’s adventures. She’s working on a new book as well, Archis’ account of life on a frontier boat.

Bella agrees to a favor for a lover she picked up at the gallery, only to find herself faced with charges of smuggling deadly sorcerous ingredients. The Duke informs her that he’s sending her with an expedition to the frontier at the end of Book One. Bella’s disgrace leads to a rift between Skilto and Ariadne, deepened when Skilto discovers Archis is courting her as well. Murga hints that he knows Teo’s secret, but Teo avoids any direct discussion of it as he fights to fit in with daily circus life.

...

The Freelancing Life - Pitching An Idea

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The freelancer deals with more than just words on the page.
Last week I got to head into Seattle to watch part of a photo shoot for an article I’ve done for a local magazine – very exciting! But I wanted to talk about what it took to get to that point, because I think it underscores some of the problems with freelancing. It would be lovely if all a freelancer had to do was sit on their rear and spew verbiage onto the page. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of other stuff that gets in the way.

So how did this article come about? I’d picked up a couple of copies of the magazine in question and thought about what they might like. I came up with a topic that I had a lot of information about and wrote a pitch – three or four sentences that explained my idea and (important) why I thought their readers would be interested. I included information about my writing credentials and why I was particularly qualified to write about this topic. I put a good bit of time into that pitch, trying to make it interesting enough that the reader would want to know more about the topic. I made sure the e-mail was professional and error free, as well as showcasing my ability to craft a sentence. Once it was ready, I poked around on their masthead and found what looked like the logical editor to mail my pitch to. And I did.

To no reply. A month later, I sent a nudge asking about the pitch. This time I got a reply from the publisher saying that she liked the idea and that they would discuss it at their editorial meeting and get back to me.

More time passed. I sent another nudge asking about the story and mentioning that if they weren’t interested, I’d love to pitch them a couple of other ideas. This time I got an actual assignment, with word limit and due date. It was on.

I mention this because I’ve found that the most important characteristic a freelancer can have is tenacity and a willingness to keep nudging when necessary. The reply to a pitch is, more often than not, silence, and it’s easy to get discouraged by that. It’s important to not assume that silence is a hostile or negative response and to be willing to keep on flinging e-mails into the void until you get a reply. People are busy, editors have five million things on their to-do list – being patient and professional when dealing with that fact is crucial.

Editors don’t have a stack of story assignments that they’re ready to hand out to freelancers, unfortunately. They want story ideas and they want to know a) why that story will appeal to their readers and b) why you’re the person who should write it. Figuring out what might work as a pitch involves looking at the publication and also at your qualifications, trying to find an idea where the two overlap. Pick publications where you have some expertise or unique experience to offer, rather than making the mistake of trying to write about something you aren’t interested in or don’t know much about.

And then be prepared to be persistent.

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