z is for zizi

holy cow can you believe it? this is my last a-z post. I'm actually feeling a bit pleased with myself for finishing. And I planned ahead rather than winged it. That helped - alot. Anyway, in The God Chronicles, specifically Chios, zizi is a fermented liquor often served at celebrations and festivals. Here is an excerpt:

"Outside Susianna could hear the sounds of the celbration drifting in from the plaza. They were happy sounds, joyous sounds. She wished she could feel the same.

The Priestess reached out and she allowed herself to be led out along the avenue to the temple. The scent of night blooming jasmine perfumed the air, mingling with the odor of fried tamarans and zizi, a fermented liquor favored at festivals. Torches had been set into the ground, illuminating the flagstones and casting wavering shadows over the albizia and jasmine that grew along either side of the avenue.Susianna moved like a ghost, barely noticing her surroundings and finding the entire ordeal taking on a dreamlike hue. The noise of the celebration seemed to reach a crescendo at her approach but even as she mounted the steps to the temple it was like no more than the buzzing of a bee or a chuféra. She turned to face the roaring crowd, which fell silent at a gesture from the Priestess.

“Who will take this woman in the name of the Goddess?”

y is for Yeth Hounds

Those of you who played Dungeons and Dragons may be familiar with these creatures. For those who are not, I give you this excerpt from The God Chronicles:

In the rocky recesses of a cave above the trail two Yeth hounds came awake suddenly, rising from their great haunches in one fluid motion. They yawned, revealing long rows of sharp fangs. Smoky green eyes blinked in the dim light, then focused on the entrance to the den a few yards away. They sniffed, raising their noses to the ceiling before moving toward the opening, peering out, and sniffing again.


They padded out together into the afternoon light, the sun casting their short fur in tawny shades that matched the sparse grass. Huge paws crushed leaves to dust while their eyes scanned along the line of seedlings and flowers that grew along the ridge. They approached the incline and crouched down at its edge.

From that vantage point they had a clear view of the trail below. The odor of their prey wafted up on the afternoon’s breeze. Saliva formed at the corners of their jowls, dripping down in long clear strands and they glanced at one another briefly. Then they turned their gaze back to the trail below, waiting.

x is for Xander

Prince Xander of Rhodes is a character in Fairy Tail, slated to marry Phaedra. In this scene they have just met for the first time (they're both about ten years old here):

Phaedra sat next to the Prince, at the far end of the royal table. Matisse was nearby though that was little consolation.

It had taken a good hour for the Prince to recover but by the time he did he was just as unpleasant as he had been before. Nothing was to his liking. The musicians were amateurs, the jester a fool, and those at the tables below them mere peasants, less than human as far as he was concerned.

“Why look at that stupid girl, she can’t even hold the pitcher steady. She’s already spilt half of it on the floor,” Xander said, pointing.

Phaedra looked to where he pointed, seeing Jane, the cook’s daughter, making the rounds with a pitcher of water. She was nervous, afraid of tripping, afraid of what people might say, afraid that she would say something stupid and get herself or her mother into trouble.

“Idiot,” Xander said.

“Perhaps you would do better,” Phaedra said.

He glared at her. “Best keep a civil tongue,” he said, “For one day I will be king and you my queen.”

Phaedra looked to Matisse for help but she only shook her head and Phaedra swallowed her words. She looked down at her plate and saw something at the edge of it, something that hadn’t been there before, something wet, with a sickly greenish tinge.

Xander smiled at her side, wiping his finger on his sleeve.

u is for unreliable narrator

most of the time when we read a story we believe what we are told - or we suspend our belief (as in the case of fantasy/paranormal/scifi/horror). So when Philip Pullman tells us about Lyra and her dæmon, we believe him (and, oh, don’t we want a dæmon of our own). When Stephen King tells us about a town with an invisible dome over it, we believe him, too. And when David Wroblewski offers us a mute hero and his marvelous dogs, we believe him, too. But sometimes, the narrator is not to be trusted.

This is the unreliable narrator. Here are two examples:

Mark Twain/Huckleberry Finn: Well, one thing was dead sure; and that was, Tom Sawyer was in earnest and was actuly [sic] going to help steal that nigger out of slavery. That was the thing that was too many for me. Here was a boy that was respectable, and well brung up; and he had a character to lose; and folks at home that had characters; and he was bright and not leather-headed; and knowing and not ignorant; and not mean, but kind; and yet here he was, without any more pride, or rightness, or feeling, than to stoop to this business, and make himself a shame, and his family a shame, before everybody. I couldn’t understand it, no way at all.

Ken Kelsey/One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest: They’re mopping when I come out of the dorm, all three of them sulky and hating everything, the time of day, the place they’re at here, the people they got to work around. When they hate like this, better if they don’t see me. I creep along the wall quiet as dust in my canvas shoes, but they got special sensitive equipment detects my fear and they all look up, all three at once, eyes glittering out of the black faces like the hard glitter of radio tubes out of the back of an old radio.

Can you think of a third example?

s is for show and t is for tell

Showing allows the reader to ‘see’ the events of the story as they are being played out either through words, action, or “basic objective description of objects or settings that a reader would naturally see” if actually there.*


Telling is a summary or narration of what is happening, backstory, definitions and explanations, and “any analysis of or commentary on what is happening in the story.” *

Traditionally one should show the most important parts of the story, the things people do and say, the way they interact with one another, dialogue and anything else that “changes the situation of the story.” Telling should primarily be used “to fill in the gaps, to supplement what is being shown, or dramatized.”

Most stories are a mix of both. The hard part, of course, is doing both well. Like this:

Lyra and her dæmon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen. The three great tables that ran the length of the hall were laid already, the silver and the glass catching what little light there was, and the long benches were pulled out ready for the guests. Portraits of former Masters hung high up in the gloom along the walls. Lyra reached the dais and looked back at the open kitchen door, and, seeing no one, stepped up beside the high table. The places here were laid with gold, not silver, and the fourteen seats were not oak benches but mahogany chairs with velvet cushions.

* Alice LaPlante/The Making of a Story

q is for queen

In this case, Queen Corliss from The Way to Dendara, who has been cursed. In this scene, Lucy is meeting her mother, the Queen, for the first time:

A hand reached out to pull the bed curtains aside and Lucy nearly screamed.

Instead of a still attractive but sickly woman of middle years (which was what Lucy had expected to see) there was nothing but an old crone, a small, wizened slip of a woman whose face was like that of a withered apple. And Lucy was glad for the darkness, glad it hid what it did, including her own horrified expression.

A little cackle escaped the woman’s cracked lips along with a speck of spittle. “Eh, I know what you’re thinking,” she said with a raspy voice and a gleam in her eyes, “You're hoping I am not your mother, eh?”

p is for Phaedra

Phaedra is a character from Fairy Tail; her mother is the fairy Matisse, her father the King of Ghent. This is an excerpt from when Phaedra is about ten years old:


And this, Matisse found, proved to be the most difficult trait to hide: the ability to know what other creatures liked. All fairies had the ability to some degree, some more than others. But it was particularly strong in Matisse’s family and Phaedra possessed the talent in abundance.

For example, she knew just how the cats liked to be petted. The orange tom especially liked to be scratched behind the ears while the old black one enjoyed being petted from head to tail. Only the calico liked having her belly stroked, so much so that her purr became a rather loud rumble even before Phaedra ever began.

The birds liked seeds or bread or raisins or insects and Phaedra knew exactly who liked what. The dogs generally liked anything offered though they were particularly fond of tummy rubs and ham bones. As for the King, why he positively beamed when she crawled into his lap on the throne and kissed his whiskery face, while Queen Olivia could be brought to tears when Phaedra put her little arms about the royal neck and said, “You’re so pretty, Mummy. I love you.”

And of course all of this got Phaedra nearly anything she asked for. How could anyone resist? She gave everyone exactly what they wanted.

o is for opening.

No matter what genre, every story needs a good opening. Here are four characteristics* and examples of a good opening:

1. Keeps the reader wondering, what happens next? Like in Shiver, by Maggie Stiefvater: "I remember lying in the snow, a small red spot of warm going cold, surrounded by wolves."

2.Establishes the tone of the piece. "Rage. Sing, O Muse, of the rage of Achilles, of Peleus' son, murderous, mankiller, fated to die, sing of the rage that cost the Achaeans so many good men and sent so many vital, hearty souls down to the dreary House of Death. And while you're at it, O Muse, sing of the rage of the gods themselves..." Dan Simmons' Ilium.

3.Immerses the reader in the physical world of the piece. "The Island of Gont, a single mountain that lifts its peak a mile above the storm-wracked Northeast Sea, is a land famous for wizards." Ursula LeGuin's A Wizard of Earthsea.

4.Introduces the characters and situations. "Clare: It's hard being left behind. I wait for Henry, not knowing where he is, wondering if he's okay. It's hard to be the one who stays." From The Time Traveler's Wife, by Audrey Niffenegger.


* Alice LaPlante/The Making of a Story, p.467

n is for narrator

the narrator is the person or intelligence telling the story.

It could be first person, like in The Vampire Lestat, in which Lestat tells his side of the story (in response to the first book, which centered around Louis). Lestat begins his tale thus: "I am the Vampire Lestat. I'm immortal. More or less. The light of the sun, the sustained heat of an intense fire -- these things might destroy me. But then again, they might not."

It could be second person, which is rare, but beautifully rendered in this example from Lorrie Moore's "How to become a Writer": "First, try to be something, anything, else. A movie star/astronaut. A movie star/missionary. A movie star/kindergarten teacher. President of the World. Fail miserably. It is best if you fail at an early age -- say, fourteen. Early, critical disillusionment is necessary so that at fifteen you can write long haiku sentences about thwarted desire. It is a pond, a cherry blossom, a wind brushing against sparrow wing leaving for mountain. Count the syllables. Show it to your mom."*

Or it could be third person, which allows for a wide variance in perspectives:

1. Objectively report what is happening;
2. Go into the mind of any character;
3. Interpret for us that character's appearance, speech, actions, and thoughts, even if the character cannot do so;
4. Move freely in time or space to give us a panoramic, telescopic, microsopic, or historical view; tell us what has happened elsewhere or in the past or what will happen in the future; and
5. Provide general reflections, judgments, and truths.

In all these aspects, we [the reader] will accept what the omniscient author tells us.* *

Here is how Tad William's The Dragonbone Chair begins: "On this day of days there was an unfamiliar stirring deep inside the dozing heart of the Hayholt, in the castle's bewildering warren of quiet passages and overgrown, ivy-choked courtyards, in the monk's holes and damp, shadowed chambers. Courtiers and servants alike goggled and whispered. Scullions exchanged significant glances across the washing tubs in the steamy kitchen. Hushed conversations seemed to be taking place in every hallway and dooryard and dooryard of the great keep."



* Janet Burroway/Writing Fiction, p.206
** Janet Burroway/Writing Fiction, p.201

K is for Katherine

And here's where Katherine and Jack (from Almost Paradise) meet for the first time:


Katherine balled her hands into tiny fists and swung wildly, connecting with flesh and feeling the sting of contact. The hand was knocked away and her assailant thrown off balance. She scrambled away, banging her knees on the floor when she fell off the bed.


The valise, she thought, there was a small derringer in there, if she could reach it... A hand wrapped itself around her ankle, yanking her back across the floor and burning her already bruised knees. She let out a curse, forgetting that ladies did not curse.

“Bastard!”

Her fists swung again. This time, however, they were caught and brought back over her head, held there in a vice-like grip. She felt the coldness of metal and she knew it was a gun, something much better than the little derringer she had.

“Now, you can live a bit longer if you cooperate or you can die right here. Your choice.”

J is for Jack

Jack is one of my most favorite characters. He plays opposite Katherine in Almost Paradise, my parnormal romance. Here's a glimpse of his past:

Jack was twelve when his father died. He was sitting at the top of the stairs when the news came, and he heard the words “I’m sorry.” He didn’t need to hear any more. He knew what those words meant. His best friend Tommy Sheehan (whose father had died in a car accident) had told him all about it. And he knew their lives would soon change. Tommy Sheehan had told him that, too. Tommy used to live in a nice house with nice things his mother always fussed over. After his dad had died things had changed - for the worse. But Jack figured things really couldn’t get any worse for them. They didn’t live in a nice house and they hadn’t had much in the way of anything new in a long time. The pants he wore were already too short, the sneakers he had were too small, and he couldn’t remember the last time he or any of his brothers had gotten something other than hand-me-downs to go back to school with. No, the way Jack figured, things could only get better.

I is for Interior Dialogue

Here is how Saphique, the book I'm reading now, opens. I've underlined the interior dialogue, the parts where we get thoughts in addition to sight, sound, smell, touch, taste.

"The alleyway was so narrow that Attia could lean against one wall and kick the other. She waited in the dimness, listening, her breath condensing on glistening bricks. A flicker of flames around the corner sent ripples down the walls.

The shouts were louder now, the unmistakable roar of an excited crowd. She heard howls of delight, sudden gales of laughter. Whistling and stamping. Applause.

Licking a fallen drip of condensation from her lips, she tasted its salty grit, knowing she had to face them. She had come too far, searched for too long, to back out now. It was useless feeling small and scared. Not if she ever wanted to Escape. She straightened, edged to end of the alley, and peered out."

G is for God and Grace

God is an actual character in my trilogy, The God Chronicles:

In the beginning, God was an apprentice. It wasn’t until he graduated to his own galaxy that he created anything at all. And shortly after Earth God created AlNair, which was, by his own account, a complete failure.

And Grace is someone Arlen will have to reckon with in Grimoire:

“Now, do tell me why you’ve come,” Grace said, fixing him with her emerald eyes, eyes that looked as pure and beautiful as the gem whose color they mimicked. Or as cold and depthless as a winter sea. 

D is for Dara

Dara is the daughter of Prince Nassir of the Sans Ara (from book one of The God Chronicles). In this scene, she and her brother, Taimur, are discussing the intentions of a particular young man:


Dara watched him go, considering.

“He is interested.”

“Is he?” Dara turned to look at her brother.

“Of course. Why else would he have come? Certainly not to walk me about the city.”

Dara did not reply, frowning instead, still not certain whether to be pleased or annoyed.

“Do you not like him?”

She shrugged. “I am not sure.”

“I am told he is attractive, well-mannered, that sort of thing. It would be a good match.”

“Would it?”

Taimur looked at her and smiled.

“You should at least consider it,” he said, “Our mothers were all married at your age.”

“Are you suggesting I am a bruda?” she asked.

Taimur grinned, allowing his Sans Ara reserve to dissolve. “Well, you are not old - yet, but you are unspoken for.”

She glared at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Then with a muttered curse she rose, giving him a nudge with the toe of her boot, causing him to loose his balance and fall sprawling.

“And you are still my little brother,” she reminded him, turning on her heel and striding away.

B is for Bertrade

In my story The Way to Dendara, Bertrade is a troll and a battlemaid. It is she who first goes to fetch Lucy out of her world:

"As soon as the clock struck 4 p.m. someone huge walked into the library and nearly every gaze was drawn to the figure as it approached the front desk. Lucy, too, turned to look.

She could not tell the sex for the clothing worn was loose-fitting and could have belonged to either gender; corduroy trousers, a vest of some sort, and a hooded cloak that belonged in the past. The former concealed the figure while the latter nearly concealed the features. The light, however, was enough to reveal the ugliest, most hideous face Lucy had ever seen and much to her dismay, the person (or thing) came directly toward her, halting only a few feet away.

“Lucy Akker?” The voice was low and surprisingly pleasant.

Lucy just stared.

“Come,” it said, “It is time.”

ps don't forget, first impressions #2 is on for tomorrow (and #3 is scheduled for Wednesday), but after that, it's all A-Z.

this is how you know you’re getting right

I always know when I’m on the right track because I’m eager to write, eager to get back to the story. There’s no doubt, no hesitation, no backspacing. I love it when I get to this place but I sure wish it were a little easier.


Oh, and btw, I have to tell you that the fabulous picture at the top was not taken by yours truly but by my son. He has a good eye, I think.

Here’s another brief installment from namesake…

“Cyberparties varied greatly depending on designer but they all had one thing in common, when you exited the program you would be stone cold sober and untouched, no matter what you did at the party, no matter what happened. Lots of kids liked cyberparties. They were just as fun (or ugly) as a real one but you’d never come home guilty of anything worse than dreaming. Because that’s what it was like, Arlen thought; it was like dreaming – only better.”



What are you writing?