Character is… (Part 2.4) – Shading is…

This is the sixth in an ongoing series of StoryCrafting/StoryTelling posts I’m publishing for my own benefit; explaining something helps me determine if I’ve truly learned it or am simply parroting what others have offered. I learn my weak spots, what I need to study, et cetera.

Previous offerings include:

  • Atmosphere is…
  • Character is… (Part 1)
  • Character is… (Part 2.1) – Exposition is…
  • Character is… (Part 2.2) – Description is…
  • Character is… (Part 2.3) – Action is…

     
    And note that I’ll update/upgrade/edit these posts as I learn more.


    Shading – building a character by revealing contradictions about them.

     
    A favorite quote of mine is “If you want to know someone’s mind, listen to their words. If you want to know someone’s heart, watch their actions.” It’s a favorite because it demonstrates one way to understand someone. Their heart and mind aren’t coordinated, aren’t in sync.

    Specifically, it’s how their heart and mind aren’t in sync that matters. You may have heard the expressions “X says one thing and does another” and a personal favorite from childhood, “Do as I say, not as I do.”

    A rich social example of this is pedophilia in the roman catholic church. Are these men holy or horrible? Or both? And do we need to recognize both aspects of their nature?

    Well, yes. Especially if we want to use them as a rich, complex character rather than a stereotype. It’s the shading – specifically how these dual natures are revealed – that determines if a character is a genre-trope or main, primary or central character. Does the main character have a side-kick he has to explain things to, such as Sherlock Holmes’ Dr. Watson? Have you noticed that every detective novel since (and probably before) has had a sidekick to whom the main character explains things? Side-kicks regardless of genre are tropes. Sherlock Holmes was a genre trope until he developed weaknesses. Now a main character with a weakness is a genre trope.


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Why It Works for Me – Fritz Leiber’s “A Pail of Air”

Feel the chill

This is the second in a series I’m doing wherein I discuss why a particular piece of writing works for me, aka, this author’s work taught me something about writing, encouraged me to be a better writer, engaged me, captivated me, educated me, et cetera.

Previous entries in this series include:

As I’ve written elsewhere, it’s one thing to know something is good, it’s a better thing (in my opinion) to know why it’s good and then be able to copy what’s good about it, to learn from it so you can be as good and (hopefully) better.

This time out, Fritz Leiber’s “A Pail of Air”.

 

 

The Little Flower’s in Harvey Duckman Presents Volume 1!

I am so honored.

I jokingly tweeted my short story, Morningsong, was in Harvey Duckman Presents #3 and someday I hope to make it to #1

Team Harvey Duckman DMed me they were reissuing Volume I and I had a place in it if I wanted.

Are you kidding?

An editor wants my work?

Well just give me a second now…have to think this over…YES YES YES!

 
And then it got better.

They told me they wanted more of my stuff for future issues.

Whoa!

And lots of other fine authors are in HDP1 as well.

(subscribers may remember an earlier version of A Tale of the Woods: The Little Flower

Inheritors Chapter 12 – Resa ValJean, XXX Cavalos Era

Read The Inheritors Chapter 11 – Lucifer

Creator and above level members can download a PDF of this chapter to read offline

Note: the reason for “XXX” is I’m not sure exactly where this goes in the timeline. Some chapters may get shifted. I’ve learned to live with such things.


Inheritors Chapter 12 – Resa ValJean, XXX Cavalos Era

 
Resa heard a tapping. She looked around. Sand. Trees up on a rise. Moon.

Something else. There had been something else. She was sure of it.

The tapping came again. From the hatch. In the ground. She’d come here through that hatch. A Librarian waited for her there.

She lifted the hatch. Bertrand’s eyes flashed at her in the cold moonlight. “I must return soon.”

“Bertrand, did you hear anything up here before you opened the hatch?”

“No. I can hear line-of-sight only or when something is hot enough to be seen.”

“Of course, sorry. The other Thinker who caused the disturbance in the Labyrinth, was his name Thomas Ayers?”

“No, it was ‘Tommy Ayers’. If he had other names I do not know.”

“Show me what he looked like, please.”

An image formed on each of the Librarian’s eyes. The air quavered a foot in front of him as he built on the optic thermals until his eyes cooled and the images spun like a slow hologram in the vibrating air.

“Yes, that’s him. That’s Thomas Ayers. Tommy. Thank you, Bertrand.”

“I must return, Resa.”

“You go back, Bertrand. I’ll find my way back. Right now I want to think. I’ll be back before I’m needed in the Neuroscaphe tomorrow. I promise.”

The Librarian closed the hatch. She reached over and opened it again. “Bertrand?”

The Librarian’s pale, hairless, babe-like head and pulsing eyes poked up through again. “Yes, Resa?”

“You can see after images, can’t you, when something’s hot enough?”

“Yes, Resa.”

“Can you see anything here?”

“No, Resa.”

“Are you sure? I think…I thought…someone was here, something which produced enough heat to keep me warm in the night.”

“No, Resa. Who do you think it was?”

She hesitated. “I thought it was the Christian Devil.”

“I would not be able to see it, real or not, Resa.”

Resa focused on Bertrand’s eyes, looking to see if the Librarian joked or not. “What do you mean, you wouldn’t be able to see him, real or not?”


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Boo does not like Opie

Our dog, Boo, has issues with some wildlife.

We’re not sure why.

We’ve never encouraged it. Quite the opposite. We’re open and friendly with all the Old Ones who visit.

Some times Boo is asleep, wakes up, and see’s me going out to say hello.

He’s jealous.

We’ve explained there are outside friends and inside friends.

We think it’s something more primal.

Something long ago and lost in canine and didelphine memory.

A opossum and a wolf walked into a bar, perhaps, started toasting each other’s good health, someone said something, you know how these things happen.

I doubt it started with an argument over a mate, even though the original Powhatan/Algonquian word means “white dog.”

Maybe an opossum or a dog was slumming, spending time with the other, got caught by their peers and later generations still carry the shame?

Don’t know, except that Boo doesn’t like Opie.