Archives

What I learned from the years I did NaNoWrimo (and from the years I didn’t), a Guest Post

The below is another guest post, this one from Nasim Mansuri!

What I learned from the years I did NaNoWrimo (and from the years I didn’t)

I wrote my first novel ever during November 2008. I was twelve years old.

 2008

When I decided to take on the challenge, I did it mainly to prove that when I said ‘When I grow up I want to be a writer’ I actually meant it. I quickly immersed myself in the forums, and after deciding on a fantasy novel that involved travelling, metaphors and a unicorn, I wrote it.

I learned that it is possible to come up with an idea only a few days before you begin to write it, and succeed.  I learned that it doesn’t take a wise person with decades of accumulated experience to write a novel. Becoming a successful novelist isn’t really a distant, unattainable goal; in fact, successful novelists themselves aren’t really that distant: names I recognized from bookstores popped up in pep talks, and many of the people I spoke to in the forums had links to their latest published novel in their profile.

In 2008, I learned that I can write a novel in 30 days, and more importantly: I can become a novelist.

2009

By the time October came around the corner, I was already in full novel-planning mode. I was itching to write, so when the clock hit midnight and October ended, I hit the ground running.

I quickly realized just how useful it is to outline your plot. I knew where the story was going, and I had time to focus on small details like foreshadowing and what color the main character’s bedroom would be.

I discovered a pattern:

1.  Musing.

2. Research.

3. Quotes/excerpts.

4. Outline.

5. Writing.

In 2009, I established a method to my writing which I continue to employ with everything I write.

 

2010

I had a story which had been floating around in my head for over a year, and it was epic, with hundreds of characters that had to be rendered perfectly for the story to work.

I felt like my plot had only just been born, and it wasn’t ready to be written.

So I didn’t write it.

In 2010, I learned that sometimes just have to wait for the story to be ready.

 

2011

I decided I was going to write it.

I plunged into preparation, or as I had begun to call it, thanks to twitter, #NaNoPrep.

Twitter meant that I could find writing buddies just by searching #NaNoWriMo. I discovered @NaNoWordSprints, which got me through the worst of my second-to-third-week’s writer’s block. I met people on MSN Messenger and we had word wars. This was a community, and it was a supportive one.

This realization took me to hundreds of people’s profiles and blogs, where I learned so much more about an art that I was only beginning to understand. There were so many different resources, and even just tweeting ‘I don’t think I can write 500 more words’ brought in encouraging messages from writers around the globe.

In 2011, I learned that I don’t have to do this writing thing alone. In fact, I can’t do it alone.

 

2012

I cheated by continuing my 2011 winning novel, and I quickly put in practice all the things I had learned the years before. I told as many people as I could about it.

And I learned something else: writing a novel gives you power.

People listen to a person who has written a book, because you have proven that you really do have something to say.

At the age of sixteen, I suddenly discovered that people around me actually wanted to hear what I had to share. They wanted to learn how someone like me, who was ridiculously young and hadn’t even graduated from high school yet, could write three full-length novels.

I began to understand the impact that my hobby could have on the world around me. This career could give me a voice, and I would have to put that voice to good use.

In 2012, I learned that being a successful novelist and being a published novelist doesn’t necessarily mean the same thing. One can be either… or one can be both.

 

2013

I didn’t write a novel. I didn’t have a story, but I did have a staggering amount of other things occupying my mind and time.

However, in the long gap between November 2013 and November 2014 I invested my time in learning how to write in my own time, when the pressure and excitement of NaNoWriMo wasn’t on my shoulders. I helped my fellow Wrimos edit their novels, and doing so taught me how to spot things that needed to be corrected or reworded. This, in turn, improved my own writing, and I taught myself to be disciplined with what I did.

In 2013 I learned that you don’t have to write a new novel to improve your novel-writing-skills.

 

2014

Suddenly, this year, nothing works for me. Outlining doesn’t seem to work, I have yet to properly do a Word Sprint, and I’ve even started questioning if I’m capable of writing this novel.

Why am I suddenly incapable of doing things I’ve done nearly every year? What’s wrong with me?

In 2014, I’m learning that it doesn’t matter what you did last yearThere are no formulas when it comes to writing.

I could sit here and write a ton of advice, saying this-and-that worked for me… but in the end, you’re the one that has to discover what works for you. Are you a planner or a pantser? Do you do better under pressure or on your own time? Are you going to write professionally or not? Do you let others read your work or do you guard it all very carefully? What genre is your genre? Coffee or tea?

Every year is different, so the answers to these questions will change with every novel you write. And that’s okay.

That’s NaNoWriMo. That’s writing.

 

Nasim Mansuri is currently working on an alternate history science fiction mystery novel. Originally from Paraguay yet currently volunteering on the other side of the globe, she is an avid reader and writer of both original fiction and fan fiction. You’re welcome to contact her through her blog (http://nasimmansuri.wordpress.com/) and/or her twitter (https://twitter.com/nasimwrites).

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/843243.html. You can comment here or there.

Read “A Quick Note on NaNoWriMo,” by John Scalzi

John Scalzi has written a blog post titled "A Quick Note on NaNoWriMo," which is definitely worth a read.

I do want to offer some encouragement to folks who are wondering if the “just power through a novel in a month” idea is a good, useful or even sane idea. So, lean in, people, and here my secret…

Go read it to find out more!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/842826.html. You can comment here or there.

Nano Midnight Write-in: First and Last lines of last night

First line of midnight: “I need to get to Ashbury.”

Last line, when I was beginning to get groggy, that very much needs a re-write:

The bar was across the walkway from the repair shop, just down the way from Emilia’s shop.

1,769 words last night!

People that need naming:

“So.  Who brought you over the mountains?”

 “[Name name.]  He’s one of the ones that told me about you.  He said…” 

“You could take [name name 2]’s airship, certainly. But I thought you wanted to get to Hours-March.”

And a town:

<span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:
Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;
mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA”>…  So four hundred [town town] dollars,…"
<span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:
Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;
mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA”>
<span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:
Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;
mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA”>

<span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:
Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;
mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA”> Extant names are: Emilia, Ashbury, Hours-March, Mortin (Mortin subject to change; the last three are places).

Wheee!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/842545.html. You can comment here or there.

From Nanowrimo to Publication: A Guest Post by Jeff Cook

The below is a guest post from Jeff Cook:

First, Lyn, thank you very much for the opportunity to appear on your blog. I really appreciate the opportunity.

Now for the details. Here’s the things I’ve learned about the process of taking a Nanowrimo project to publication. Now, I’m not a best-selling author, but I have published two books, with two more coming out early next year (one self-published, one traditionally published.) I’ve also been accepted in a number of anthologies. I can’t tell you how to hit it big, land the high end agent, and retire… but I have learned a few things about putting out a book that will garner pretty good reviews from reviewers I’ve never met, getting past the gates of the publishing world (there’s a lot of them), self-publishing vs. trad-publishing, and putting out a book you can be proud of. I have a long way to go, and a lot to learn, but within a year of publishing, the books are at least helping make a significant dent in the bills. So take from this what you will.

First, other authors are NOT your competition. We’re in this together. Trying to bring down anyone else’s work does not benefit you. Most authors that I’ve met have become my biggest resources. We network, we help each other find places to submit short stories to build our readership, we work on projects together, and we give each other advice based on experience. A lot of people much further along in this process than me have been a tremendous amount of help. I belong to a group of authors who help share the costs of tables at street fairs, book events and conventions, and sometimes give each other bits of editing and critique help. I push other writers that I’ve worked with and come to respect every chance I get, and while it doesn’t go both ways every time, sometimes it does. (And when it does, you’d be amazed how much more impact recommendations from others have on making some sales, instead of people trusting the author. Of course the author says their book is great. But when one of their friends, or an author they like says it, they’re more prone to check the other book out.)

Second, Nanowrimo is fantastic. Writing is such a lonely thing, its great to have that community and people striving for the goal right along with you. However, remember that your Nanowrimo project is not a novel, even if you hit way more than 50k words. What you have is a first draft. The number of first drafts in the world that were truly ready for publication right off are very, very few. Jack Kerouac could do it. You are not Jack Kerouac.

If you really want to reach publication, take your book seriously and treat your ideas with the love they deserve. Edit them viciously. Trim the fat: get rid of things that don’t advance the story. Kill characters, or consider letting characters live after all if they still served a purpose. Revise and rewrite, then read aloud, and do it again. You’d be amazed what you’ll catch when you’re hearing your work. After you have the big chunks cut out, fix your grammar. Do multiple read-throughs for grammatical mistakes.

Ok, so you’ve done three or four editing passes and major rewrites. Now you have something you can show to an editor. Now, a few people can edit their own work. Two authors I know, James Baldwin and Kennedy J. Quinn are phenomenal at this. I wish I had their skill at it. I’m just not a good editor. My talents lie with putting lots and lots of words on a page quickly. I can revise and rewrite, and I can help pick out parts I’m not happy with, but I know I need help. I’ve found that the vast, vast majority of writers I’ve met either realize this same thing about themselves, or should. Be brutally honest, and get unbiased eyes on your story. This is for 3 reasons.

1. You HAVE missed things. You’re too close to your story.

2. Because you’re too close to the story, you may be too in love with it, and gloss over scenes without a purpose, or that don’t read the way you’re picturing in your head.

3. Because you’re too close to the story, you probably hate parts of it. A lot of people are their own worst critics. Get fresh eyes that you trust on it, or eyes that have experience at this stage, professional skill, and no attachment to the story, and let them find their favorite parts.

Next, please believe your editor, and eventually your beta readers. Too many people rush to publication with terrible material because they only let biased people read their work, or people who would just tell them what they want to hear. Find people who will be vicious, then at least take a serious look at what they’re talking about. This doesn’t mean change every single thing they say. Its still your story, but if you ask them to be rough on your story, don’t hate them when they are.

Additionally, tell them to also tell you the good things, aiming for about one positive for every 3-4 negatives. Nothing, and I mean nothing hurts more in edits than having people who read the beta draft later ask why you cut their favorite scene – and having to tell them that it was because they didn’t tell you it was their favorite scene, or you’d have not cut it to make other edits easier.

Finally, look at your cover art. Are you a professional level visual artist? If not, find someone who is, whether a friend, or someone you pay. Yes, the saying “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” is popular, but most people do. At the very least, looking at a cover makes the first impression on a reader, answering the question “Does the author think enough of their work to produce a professional looking final product?”

I think I’ve run out of space here, but I hope this helps a few people in taking the immediate next steps once they have their draft done for the month. Good luck, everyone!

Thank you,
Jeffrey Cook

Jeffrey Cook is the author of Dawn of Steam: First Light (http://www.amazon.com/dp/149427650X/ ) and Dawn of Steam: Gods of the Sun (http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00N5D9BK4/) His third book, Mina Cortez: Boquets to Bullets (a YA science fiction novel) will be published through Fire & Ice Press in February, while the third and (for now) final book of the Dawn of Steam series will be out in April. He has also contributed to publications for Steampunk Trails Magazine, Free-Flowing Stories and Disaster Strikes anthologies, and Deep7 Games out of Seattle.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/841769.html. You can comment here or there.

The Bridge, a story for Thimbleful Thursday

“There’s no water under the bridge.” Geoff stopped midway across the plank structure to stare down at the stones. “I mean, there’s a lot of rubbish, and some moss, but there’s no water at all, even standing water.”

Before Elora could stop him, he’d vaulted over the railing – nearly ripping it off in the process; it wasn’t very well-built – and started digging in the rocks with his shovel. “The bridge isn’t recent. But if this was a streambed, there should be some sign of water under here. I mean, we haven’t seen any evidence that the stream has moved.”

“Well, one, it could have moved further ahead of us. Two, it could be the dry season. And three—” Elora was growing very uncomfortable having Geoff down there. “—they could have built the bridge for some other reason than water.” She offered him a hand. “We don’t know why they didn’t want to walk over that area, that area you’re standing right on right now, but we know it was important enough for them to waste rare timber on it. Come on, please?”

Geoff didn’t move. “I. I think I know why they built a bridge. I’m… I’m sorry, Elora.”

~

To September 25th’s Thimbleful Thursday prompt, approx. 200 words

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/841351.html. You can comment here or there.

Say What You Want, a ficlet of Clockwork Apoc for Thimbleful Thursday

to the Thimbleful Thursday prompt from 2 weeks back “For XYZ reasons;” 393 words

“So, she went right into the middle of a Blank zone. Just walked through it, like there weren’t Creatures still in the air and only the skies know what sort of trouble on the ground. Not to mention falling walls and all that standing water….” Grace shook her head. “Who knows what goes through the mind of someone like that?”

“We’re talking about Lisette, right?” Rose pursed her lips. “Who knows why she does anything? She’s the one that rode below an airship all the way across the Blank Plains. She’s the one that brought home an Other just to see what made it tick. She does what she wants, for x, y, and z reasons, and the rest of us just have to stay out of her way.”

“You just put up with here?” Grace had only been in the compound for a few months; she’d been a refuge from a lost town, Mortin, one of only three survivors. Rose tried to remember that when Grace got… difficult. Judgey. “It seems like she’s putting the whole compound at risk.”

Rose took a breath. Remember what happened to Mortin. Remember the bodies. Remember the Blanks. “The thing about Lisette is… yes, she does her own things, for her own reasons, reasons that are best not asked about and not worth speculating on. And when the compound was attacked by a wave of Blanks last year, it was Lisette – Lisette, on her own – that saved us.”

“But you let her just wander into Blank zones. What if she came back blanked out? What if she contracted some disease?” Grace leaned forward. “What if she let the Blanks in?”

“Lisette is not going to do something like that.” Although Rose was beginning to see a picture of how Mortin had fallen. “Lisette does what she does, for Lisette’s reasons – but she protects the compound. She’s never failed to protect the compound.”

“But what if she’s wrong? What if, worse, what if she’s doing something wrong? You can’t just let people wander around for mysterious reasons, and not expect them to turn on the compound! You can’t!” Grace’s voice was getting louder and louder, shriller and shriller.

Rose kept her voice low and quiet. “Lisette has her reasons for doing what she does. And we have our reasons for letting her.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/840363.html. You can comment here or there.

How to End Worlds and Influence People, Part I

Do you want to end a world?

Not this world; that would be messy. Not to mention, if you end the world, you don’t have anywhere to sell your stories. Or to buy coffee.

So let’s end some other world, shall we?

When I started writing Monster Godmother, I didn’t need to end the world; I already had the Faerie Apocalypse rather well set up. I already had lots of apocalypse settings, actually.

But say you need a tailor-made apocalypse for a story idea. Where do you start?

That’s a good question: where are you going to start? When is your story going to take place?

Some stories start before the apocalypse – think disaster movies. Day After Tomorrow. War of the Worlds. Some start in media res. 28 Days Later is the only one that comes to mind quickly. Some start just-afterwards, while you’re still reeling from the disaster. The book for Postman was like that. And some are so long afterwards that you’ve gotten new cultures. Waterworld.

Where are you going to start?

Faerie apocalypse, by the way, starts either 2000 years before the apocalypse or even further back, and, as of now, goes approximately 50 years into the future. Past is easier, what can I say?

If you’re going to start before or in media res, you’re going to need to know more about the apocalypse. If you’re starting long afterwards, you can fudge as much as you need to. And if you’re starting just after it, you’re going to need to think about the scope of your story.

Does your story span the whole world? Several worlds? Is it two people in a cabin? Six people in what used to be a city? Each of these requires a different level of backstory – for two people in a cabin, you only need to know that civilization has fallen. For a world-spanning story, you’re going to need to know what cities fell, which survived, and how much destruction is still going on – at a very minimum.

Monster Godmother takes part in the middle of a battle. If I’d been building the apocalypse from scratch, I wouldn’t have needed much – a couple notes here and there about nearby destruction. If I continued her story further… then, I’d have needed to build more.

And you? Well, if you want to ruin a world, you’ve got to do a bit of homework. Where does your story start? How much of a span will it have?

Once you have that (next time) we can talk about how we’re going to end the world.


Monster Godmother is available, along with several other fine apocalypse stories, in What Follows, available in e-book on Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/840040.html. You can comment here or there.

Discoveries about Doomsday, a continuation of AG/Doomsday (@inventrix)

First: Visiting Doomsday
Previous: Classrooms of Doomsday


Kheper nodded at Luke. Luke nodded back at Kheper. Nobody needed to be a succubus to sense the tension in the air.

The students weren’t, Luke assumed, all in the room yet – there were three there, one in just-grey-white-and-black, one with the same red accessories and accents that Nehara was wearing, and one wearing light green and pink. All three of them, almost in unison, looked at their professor, looked at each other, and turned to look at Luke.

He flared his wings and, feeling immensely self-conscious under the gaze of three teenagers and one boy he still thought of as a teenager, bowed again. He cleared his throat. “Ah, hello. Professor – Agislaw. Jae’Law-Shield.”

The boy in pink and green gasped. Luke schooled his face and waited for Kheper’s response.

The boy – man, he probably deserved that much – bowed back in response. “Sa’Hunting Hawk. Luke. Principal Doomsday told me you were visiting, but I didn’t know you’d be taking in my humble class.”

There had never, ever, been anything remotely humble about Kheper. Still. Luke smiled, and tilted his head in Nehara’s direction. “My tour guide thought it would be a good idea.”

“Aah. Nehara. How kind of you.” Kheper’s attention slid seamlessly to his students. “Since the three of you were so kind as to be on time, allow me to introduce you to the head of Security at Addergoole and my former PE teacher, Luca Hunting-Hawk. Sir, this is Nur, Ihab, and Antigone.”

He remembered when Antigone’s father had named her. He’d come back to Addergoole to ask Luke about the naming visions, pale and sick-looking.

“…and the best combat instructor, best warrior I’ve ever met.” Kheper’s eyes met Luke’s again. He was smiling, not a common expression for Law-Shield.

He would have to trust that Doomsday had Antigone well in hand. He nodded back to Kheper. He wasn’t sure what the game was here, but it felt like mark-the-territory. He could respect that.

“Better than Professor Inazuma?” They probably weren’t supposed to hear that whisper, but Ihab, the boy in green and pink, was not all that quiet.

Inazuma?

Kheper fielded the question smoothly. “Far better than Professor Inazuma. As a matter of fact, Sa’Hawk taught Inazuma, back when I was in school.”

Oh! Yes, that would suit Leo’s sense of – whatever it was. Luke smiled at the students. Another two were trickling in, and he could see one more behind them. He was going to have to make this good.

“He was one of my best students,” he allowed. “Certainly one of my most eager.”

The students giggled. Good to know that that still struck a note. Luke was finding Boom-et-al being so very… non-explosive was leaving him on uncertain footing.

“Luke is also,” Kheper took back the conversation smoothly. Luke glanced at him; the boy – professor – nodded again, almost apologetically. “He’s also one of the only full-blooded Mara I have ever met, and the only one I know to still be alive.”

Ah. Well, he was invading a classroom. Luke spread his wings wide, so that the students could study them. “I remember.” He had never had a good “teaching voice;” Mike always referred to his grunt-or-shout tactic. The room was small, though, so he resorted to the tone he used with scared first-year mentorees. “When I was a child, it was rare to see a ha – an Ellehemaei that was not full-blooded. And now, we’re all but extinct.”

He flapped his wings once, just enough to prove they were real. “The Mara are – were, I guess – the protectors. We were stronger, tougher, faster. Warriors.”

“Hunters.” The girl’s voice was very quiet, but it still took all of Luke’s self-control not to flap at her. Instead, he turned to look at her, very mindfully folding his wings until they were at rest.

“The Shenera Oseraei had very similar fae. They called them Hunters – and many people think the two bloodlines are related. Yeah. But the Mara are not Hunters.”

She was not a big girl; she looked younger than her peers, and, still dressed in grey-white-and-black, Luke guessed she probably didn’t have a Mentor yet. “That’s just -” She turned to Kheper.

He shot Luke a quick warning glance over her head. When he answered, Luke noticed his voice was careful and very gentle. “It’s all right. Sa’Hawk knows you didn’t mean any offense, Mara.”

Luke struggled to control a wing-flap. Mara?

Kheper’s cleared throat brought his attention back. “Her name is Mara, Luke, מָרָא. Not māra.”

Luke settled down. He could tell the unfortunately-named girl was getting very upset. “My mistake. Pleased to meet you, Mara. Maybe after class, we could talk more about Those Who Protect?”

“I…” She shrugged her shoulders up to her ears. “If Miss Ascha says it’s okay?”

“I’m sure she will.” Kheper took control of the conversation with a smoothness Luke found himself envying. “And perhaps sa’Hawk could tell the rest of the class a little bit about the Laws of Belonging? We’re studying the first Law of Belonging today.”

Luke cleared his throat. “Aah. Well,” he chuckled nervously. “That would be the one I’ve had the least experience with. It’s been a few years since I’ve been a Child.”

“You have children, don’t you?” Nur tilted her head at him. “I thought all of the Addergoole teachers did.”

“Well. You know quite a bit about the Addergoole staff.” He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. “Yes. I have a few children, and some grandkids. But I’m their father.”

“Professor Inazuma has maternal rights – well, I mean, she’s grown…” Ihab seemed to be infatuated with Leo. Well, he certainly wasn’t the first. Luke wondered if Leofric knew. Or Cynara, for that matter.

“Yeah, but Sigruko was a special case.” Luke looked around the gathering class. “Well. I’ve had enough kids that I know what the First Law of Belonging looks like from a father’s end. I can talk about that. If that’s all right, Professor Aegislaw?”

“Of course.” Kheper bowed to him.

Enough time had passed that Luke could talk about Aleron without pain and anger; by this time, Aleron’s grandchildren, his disreputable grandson Makatza among them, had come and gone from Addergoole. Doug was harder, not because there was pain, but because there was guilt. And Chavva and Icarus – well, those were stories he could tell while feeling his wings show every emotion, and he let them.

When he was done, he bowed to the students, bowed to Kheper, and took his leave, feeling wrung out and, at the same time, happy. He caught Nehara watching him and tucked his wings against his back.

He cleared his throat. “Ah. So, what’s next our our tour?”

“I was thinking about visiting Professor Lily’s class. Aah… Dáirine?”

Luke’s wings twitched. “Dáirine.” He remembered the too-pretty girl: daughter of two troublemakers, raised by a completely different sort of trouble. Ciara’s adopted child. “Ah. Cya would know her through Yoshi.”

“Principal Doomsday knows everyone.” Nehara smiled placidly, but Luke still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was laughing at him. “Would you rather skip her class?”

“No. No, I’d like to see her take on history.”

Nehara paused for a heartbeat. Studying him? Reading him? Luke was an open book and knew it. “This hour is my class – Eighth-Year – and she’s covering the history of the collapse and subsequent rebuilding.”

It sounded like a warning. Luke couldn’t blame the girl for thinking some heads-up was necessary. Dáirine had been a child when the world had ended. What historical perspective…

Humans did it all the time, he reminded himself. “I’d love to see it.”

“Same building, so we don’t have to go far.” She led him out of the classroom and into a narrow-looking hall that was crowded with students. Narrow-seeming, and yet Luke noticed he could probably spread his wings almost to their full width. The floor was wood with throw rugs; the walls were covered in artwork. “It’s…” He searched for a word, and picked one after a while, more Mike’s word than his own. “Cozy.”

“These kids – me, too, when I was that age – this is the first time they’ve ever been away from home. Some of them grew up in enclaves, but some of them were barely holding on to survive. They want to be sure that everyone feels as comfortable as possible, this far away from home.”

“Maybe we should think about that more at Addergoole.” Cozy was never a word he’d heard used to describe that place, at least not without tongue firmly in cheek. “Do you like it? Did it help you be comfortable?”

“I was homesick, of course.” She shrugged elegantly. Mike would love this girl. Luke swallowed the thought and the irrational jealous that it brought forward. “But the kidlings, first, second, third years, most of the fourth and fifths, they’re all in one big house, so you’re never really alone unless you want to be. Cy’Ascha, unofficially.”

That was the second time the name Ascha had come up. “Aceline? sh’Magnolia?”

Nehara raised her eyebrows at him. “I wouldn’t presume to call a teacher by their mother’s name.”

Luke glowered at her, uncowed by her implicit scolding. “I was there when her mother was born.”

“You were there when she was Named, too, weren’t you? Aceline, sa’Water Under the Bridge, is that who you mean?”

There was tartness in her voice that hadn’t been there before. Luke liked it. But his wings still flapped irritably. “Yes,” he grumbled. “Ascha.”

Her voice gentled minutely. “Doomsday is a kid away from home, sa’Hunting Hawk. And you’re the uncle set to check up on the kid. But please remember that while they are wayward children to you, they’re honored mentors and instructors to us.”

Luke’s wings stilled. “How are you so wise, so young?” Are you another Manira, another cuckoo’s egg in the nest? Are you a danger?

Nehara smiled sadly. “I’m cy’Red. It’s quite an education.”

And, he could tell, not the whole answer. That was fine. He nodded his head to her. “So, Aceline is a teacher here?”

“She teaches the younger students, up through their third year. And she lives in the dorm with them. She’s very good at being soothing.”

“She’s always been a good girl.”

Nehara smiled. “Not like her sister, right? I’ve heard the stories. Professor Sweetflower – Magnolia – tells some of the stories.”

Luke bit back a comment. Magnolia shouldn’t have surprised him, not after Aceline. She’d been in love with Howard since she’d Kept him, and Howard was inseparable from Cynara. Dáirine, Ascha, Kheper, Magnolia – how far did Cya’s reach extend?

“And after Professor Lily’s class, maybe I can show you some of the other areas.” Nehara kept talking as if they’d never segued into the conversation on Aceline. “The dojo-and-dance-studio, of course. Then there’s the kid’s hall, some of the cy’ree dormitories -”

“You dorm by cy’ree?” That was so traditional it had dust and leather bindings. Luke was surprised Cynara had come up with it – or had she?

“In the middle years, yes. And then the last year or two, we dorm with our crew. I could show you my apartment, too.”

He had to be imagining the suggestion there. She sounded so innocent, so calm. There was no way she was… Luke coughed.

“I’d like that. Seeing around the place. It all seems so… tidy.”

“Well.” Now she just sounded amused. Luke found he could live with her being amused at him. “sa’Red Doomsday did plan it. And if there’s one thing everyone knows about Red Doomsday…”

Luke cleared his throat. He found that he didn’t know the end of that sentence, and that made him uncomfortable. Nehara clearly expected him to fill in the end, like an in-joke he had never been part of.

“Lozenge?” She opened a small wooden box filled with what he hoped were cough drops of some sort. “The air here does that to some people.”

“Thanks.” Luke took a cough drop and the excuse. “You were saying…?”

“Oh. If there’s one thing everyone knows about Red Doomsday, it’s that she’s prepared for everything.” Nehara shrugged dismissively. “I guess the joke works better if you know her.”

Doomsday.

“Doomsday prepper.” Luke coughed it out around the cough drop, which turned out to have hot pepper flakes in it. “Prepper.

“Well, yes.” Nehara’s innocent look was so studied, it had to be fake. “Everyone knows that… don’t they?”


Written to @Inventrix’s commissioned continuation.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/838972.html. You can comment here or there.

Paying Attention…

I’ve been trying to pay more attention lately.

I’m noticing when I stop playing an online game, why I do so (too much grinding; they were mean to a friend of mine), and if I go back, why I do so (new genes, friends talking about it & linking to it).

I’m noticing when I buy a book or read a book, why I do so:

I bought a John Scalzi book because he stood up for Micah during the Space Marine Problem.

I read a book @dahob lent me on Amazon.com, and then found another similar book by “similar books” and bought that (haven’t read it yet).

I stopped (years ago) reading an author I enjoyed, in part because she hit a wall of squick for me in the last book I read – and in part because she got politically vitriolic on her LJ.

And yet, despite the fact that another author disagrees with me on every political point I’ve read her blogging about – but she’s never hateful, and I’ve bought her books, wishlisted her books, driven 4 hours to go to a reading of her, and told her I wanted to be her when I grew up.

Pay attention to your own buying habits. They tell you something about other people’s habits – and they tell you something about marketing.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/838778.html. You can comment here or there.