We get a picture:
Xanthippe
He has everyone shake hands which is very polite and then turns to Harlow – wait, Harlow? Just last chapter the strangers were talking about a far-off stranger, who I assumed was Xanthippe, and now, suddenly, abruptly, without any transition, or even a throwaway line like “It had taken a month for them to find Xanthippe” or “The next morning Xanthippe had arrived at the camp” or, fuck it, “Xanthippe glanced over at the girl he had just met, named Harlow.”
Breeanna, there’s this thing in films and TV that you’ve seen a lot, and it’s called an establishing shot. Like, you see the outside of the White House in a big beautiful shot and then a moment later when you cut to two guys in suits walking down a corridor, the audience knows, okay, they must be inside the White House. You need roughly the equivalent when you’re writing a book. When you switch to a new scene, especially when it represents a change from the past, you need to give the audience information. Ideally, as they read a scene, they should be able to visualize it in their mind’s eye. This doesn’t take an infodump or a paragraph of description and you don’t need to describe it in a huge amount of detail, but for God’s sakes, give us SOMETHING. All me to give you an example from a book you may have read, and if you haven’t, you should: The Princess Bride.
The Great Square of Florin City was filled as never before (page 87).
11 words. We know precisely where we are, we know the place is packed with people, and we know something special or exciting must be going on. Very simple, not a lot of fluff. But if you omit it, people don’t know what the fuck is going on in your story.
Or, take an example from the start of Chapter Three:
Four of them met in the great council room of the castle. Prince Humperdinck, his confidant, Count Rugen, his father, aging King Lotharon, and Queen Bella, his evil stepmother (page 71).
This takes almost no time at all in the book, but it perfectly sets the scene. First, we know where we are, and we have an inkling of what is going on (since they’re meeting in the council room). Second, we establish the relationship between the characters: we know Humperdinck trusts Rugen, we know his father is getting old, and we have an idea of how these characters relate to each other which is very important information for the scene.
I could go on talking about what an amazing writer William Goldman is but I think you get the point: virtually all good books have these things. Books, generally speaking, are meant to be understood. Unless you’re trying to be deliberately obtuse, in which case you’re a terrible writer and communicator and possibly not a very nice person, you should be writing with a simple, straightforward style and the exact goal that your readers CAN UNDERSTAND WHAT IS GOING ON.
And if you don’t know how to do this, you should read more, and you should pay attention to how good writers accomplish these sorts of things.
Xanthippe walks Harlow through the summoning of the Great Gift Guru – which is a stupid name – and they teleport or something to the center of the earth.
The heat was almost unbearable and simultaneously not (loc. 3238).
Technically speaking, they’d be dead.
A voice asks whether Harlow is worthy. Harlow explains that she isn’t worthy, and isn’t a perfect good-doer, and has no importance, which is relishing, although Harlow really hasn’t struggled with ego problems through this book. Anyway, the voice is pleased with this response and says that by accepting her unworthiness she has displayed her humble nature and may take her wish.
Roswell
Roswell thinks he’s close to the end but it turns out he’s not.
Harlow
She hears voices asking her what she desires and says that she cannot lie to them, since they already know her heart’s desire. Harlow thinks about wishing the book out of existence, her heart races, and she wishes aloud that Roswell was alive and here with her again. The voices say they know. And Roswell materializes.
I was hugging him as I took his face in my hands and he stroked my own. I wanted so to kiss him, knowing how inappropriate that would be. Then before I knew what was occurring, he pulled my face to his. Our lips met with an electric shock of passion. Such desire felt nearly sinful. He drew away to cast me a look of sheer obsession (loc. 3289).
It’s so romantic.
Zosime is not particularly pleased, because, well:
“Harlow’s wish was supposed to be to rid the world of an astronomically perilous volume of horrors, however instead, her wish was you.” (loc. 3299)
Trust Harlow to fuck things up.
Roswell is furious and asks her why she couldn’t have waited five more “minuets” which I think is supposed to read minutes, since, after all, he was about to get back. And he even sent her a message! Although to be fair, instead of saying “I will return” he could have said “Will Return – Roswell” which would have been a bit easier to interpret.
Things continue to happen without rhyme or reason:
“Be easy Zosie,” Master Smith advised. “Even if she had wished for Fel Nerr Zu San Vech to no longer exist, it wouldn’t have been granted. It would have happened all the same.”
“Actually,” I interjected, “if I had lied, no wish would have been granted.”
“Well, I hope you’re happy you moron! Now, the entire world is going to come crashing inward because you couldn’t live without your precious boy toy!”
“I’m sorry!” I bawled. I could not stand one moment more of such torment. (loc. 3306)
Okay. Let’s take this logically:
First, if they knew the wish wouldn’t be granted, why did they try to accomplish it? Either you know it will work, you know it won’t work, or you’re not certain, and why wouldn’t you fucking coach Harlow towards how to handle it?
Second, as Harlow points out if she had lied the wish wouldn’t have been granted, so why does she start crying randomly? Unless she’s an emotional basket case due to having a bun in the oven in which case okay.
Third, considering Smith pointed out the plan was fucked from the start and Harlow has just confirmed it, why is the unnamed third party blowing up at Harlow when we have JUST FUCKING ESTABLISHED THAT IT WAS ALL FOR NAUGHT?
Are these characters even in the same room? Are they listening to each other? They are aware that conversation has an order, that statements people make are generally influenced by the new information that was just presented?
Anyway, they all get thrown back to the surface.
Jafar
The prince isn’t particularly pleased to see Roswell holding an unconscious Harlow. He thinks that Roswell has a terrible voice and smells bad. He doesn’t wonder where Roswell came from, which brings up another problem within this novel. When each little POV section isn’t completely ignoring relevant information, it’s not structuring the sections to match the information that characters are aware of. For example, in this section you’d expect Jafar to be relieved that they have returned, to wonder what happened while they were gone, to wonder who this Roswell chap is and where he came from, but none of those things happen.
Roswell and Jafar argue. Thea asks them both to just get along.
“I refuse to get along with this . . . this animal.”
“Hey! What’s wrong with being and animal, Goldilocks?” he spat (loc. 3328).
First, I love the nickname of Goldilocks. It’s anachronistic but I don’t even remotely care. But more importantly, why is Jafar referring to Roswell as an animal? Breeanna doesn’t actually tell us what form Roswell has assumed, but considering Harlow and Roswell just shared a passionate kiss I would imagine he’s in his human form. If not, that conjures up some rather interesting images of girl-on-wolf action, and I’ve already had to think about frog sex.
Harlow wakes up. Xanthippe asks her who the father is. Jafar announces that it’s him, which makes Roswell tense up a bit.
Xanthippe asks her some questions and determines that Harlow’s mom was an Elf but her father was not, which makes Harlow half Elf, which means…
“Then your children are that of an age old Elvin prophecy.” (loc. 3358)
Oh, god –
“Not many Elves were keen on marrying out of their race. But if a female did so with a human and had a daughter who bore the children of a human, the children would be all powerful!” (loc. 3361)
-fucking dammit.
The only thing worse that prophecies are all-powerful children. Yes. Children, not child. Turns out Harlow is about to pop out twins. Literally.
“Gah!” Harlow wailed, clasping her swollen belly (loc. 3367).
Good thing she now has two men around to look after her. Have I ever mentioned how much I enjoy love triangles between a half-elf heroine, her rugged werewolf lover, and her rapist prince?
Drinks: 26
Lone Wolf on 6 March 2014, 08:42 said:
First, if they knew the wish wouldn’t be granted, why did they try to accomplish it? Either you know it will work, you know it won’t work, or you’re not certain, and why wouldn’t you fucking coach Harlow towards how to handle it?
I think that Master Smith meant, “Harlow still thought of Roswell, so even if she said the correct words about wanting to destroy the book, the wish-giver voices would still listen to her thoughts, not to her words”.
Lone Wolf on 6 March 2014, 08:46 said:
And I mean “she had said” and “would have still listened”. Me no know eenglish grammer.
Asahel on 6 March 2014, 10:13 said:
Ok, let me see if I’m parsing this correctly. If a female Elf had a daughter with a human, and then that daughter had children with a human, then those children would be all-powerful. So, quarter-Elf, three-quarter-human is just the perfect recipe for omnipotence? Where does that leave the half-Elf? Are they more powerful than full Elves so that we get a step up in power before their offspring become God? Or, are they less powerful than full Elves, meaning there’s a dip in power before it ramps up to ridiculous levels?
(Also, I hope all powerful was just a bit of hyperbole. Omnipotence is near impossible to pull off well in a story, and, by definition, there cannot be two or more omnipotent beings at the same time.)
The Smith of Lie on 6 March 2014, 17:10 said:
Tell this to Rober Shea and Robert A. Wilson… I still have only vague idea about what the hell happened in the Illuminatus!
Am I only one who thinks, that a horrors, that are so numerous that their volume is to be considered astronomically perilous, would be much more fun than a book?
bq.“Not many Elves were keen on marrying out of their race. But if a female did so with a human and had a daughter who bore the children of a human, the children would be all powerful!” (loc. 3361)
I want to notice, that this set of conditions isn’t exactly all that unlikely. Especially inside the non-reworked version, where half-elfhood is not immediately apparent. Half-Elf having children with human is not the same stuff as seventh son of seventh son, when it come to the caliber of “not happening all that often” feeling in reader. Especially if I get “age old Elvin prophecy” right as meaning “very old, possibly ancient”. It may have worked if spawning progeny outside the race was established eaerlier as some big taboo (hint: reason for the mother to hide the Black Beard Harlow from the elves) or if Half Elves were actually somehow kept sealed tight in elven society to prevent them from mating with humans (again, reason to keep her hidden).
Royal_Terror on 10 March 2014, 02:19 said:
All powerful? As in, omnipotent?
Imagine a two-year-old with just telekinesis.
Epke on 10 March 2014, 14:35 said:
Maybe she follows the eight son of an eight son of an eight son logic? The eight son of an eight son is a wizard, but if this wizard has eight sons, the eight will be a sourcerer, a wizard squared: a source of magic.
Anyway, prophesied children never works. It always falls flat and feels like the biggest cliché.
Asahel on 10 March 2014, 15:25 said:
They could kill an ox—with mind bullets!
If one really wants to have a prophecy, I think the best narrative prophecies are the ones that are a bit vague. For example, if you do a seventh son of a seventh son thing, consider the protagonist doesn’t think he’s prophesied one; after all, how could he be? He’s only the sixth son of a seventh son. It’s got to be someone else! (But little does he or most anyone else know, he had an older brother who died in childbirth, so he really is the seventh son of a seventh son.) Now that I mention it, I think that’s been done somewhere. Anyone help me out with that?
Royal_Terror on 10 March 2014, 19:54 said:
Was that the Magyk series? It’s been a long time since I read those, so I could be wrong. That does sound familiar though.
Gryphtalon on 10 March 2014, 23:50 said:
Wasn’t the “sixth son turns out to be seventh son due to older brother that died as an infant” twist done in ‘The Dark is Rising?’
Asahel on 11 March 2014, 00:38 said:
Yes! That was the one I was thinking of. I’m not familiar with the Magyk series, so I don’t know if it had a similar thing.
Danielle on 11 March 2014, 02:11 said:
Patricia Wrede did something similar in Thirteenth Child. Eff (Francine) is the thirteenth of her siblings, but it turns out she’s also the first of twins and the seventh daughter. Wrede also twists the old thirteenth-child-is-evil standing prophecy by adding some Chinese numerology, which, in her version, just says that the thirteenth will be extremely powerful, but neutral until a side is chosen.
breeanna on 11 March 2014, 02:32 said:
Those are some really interesting tips. I will pull from this conversation in my rewite.
Btw guys it is more an exercise for me to rewrite. ..I know there was some contention of why I was doing it or what good would come. I might look into publishing but it would be old fashioned and probably not until after a few other novels….okay done with my tangent.
WarriorsGate on 12 March 2014, 01:52 said:
That’s because Illuminatus! was postmodern. It’s intentionally confusing, to replicate the clash of mutually exclusive models of reality and the futility of searching for “absolute” truth. It’s railing against dogma, and that includes the dogma of the author him- or herself.
As an aside, I find it amusing that the article’s author has a screenname derived from Watchmen – another postmodern masterpiece – and yet s/he’s championing what is essentially a modernist writing aesthetic.
I originally wrote more, but the website keeps telling me my post has “automatism”, and since I don’t know what that means, I’m cutting this short.
The Smith of Lie on 12 March 2014, 03:12 said:
@WarriorsGate
I am aware, that Illuminatus! was like this on purpose and despite the sound of my previous comment it is one of my favorite books to date. There was a memorable, at least for me, small scene where a book reviewer is giving review of a book, that is obviously Illuminatus! and trashes it, exactly for not conforming to modernistic aesthetic. I was just making observation about the general nature of the advice given out here :P.
WarriorsGate on 12 March 2014, 03:40 said:
@The Smith of Lie
Well, if you liked that one, try Foucault’s Pendulum. It opens with a solid paragraph of untranslated Hebrew, goes into two whole chapters of a once-snarky Italian editor wandering through a Parisian museum in a numinous trance, and then delves into the entire history of the western esoteric tradition while slow-burning an occultist conspiracy and also interspersing those events with long, rambling, shamelessly plagarized journal entires from another character’s search for the divine.
It’s 600 pages long and they’re all fantastic.
The Smith of Lie on 12 March 2014, 04:32 said:
Yup. Foucault’s Pendulum is great. I kinda had the Conspiracy literature phase few years ago (all thanks to Deus Ex) so on that wave I’ve read through both it and Illuminatus!.
Epke on 12 March 2014, 10:50 said:
Whether our Rorschach derives it from Watchmen or not, I don’t know, but the Rorschach test has been around long before said comic.
WarriorsGate on 12 March 2014, 15:06 said:
True, but it’s also the same person whose other screen name is scavokretlaw, literally “Walter Kovacs” backwards. Hence, Watchmen reference.
Breeanna on 12 March 2014, 16:22 said:
Oh wow! Foucault’s Pendulum is one of my favorites! No one has ever heard of it!
WarriorsGate on 12 March 2014, 18:15 said:
Yeah, for most people Umberto Eco is just “that guy who wrote the Name of the Rose”, but to be honest I prefer FC, and I suspect The Island of the Day Before, which even less people have heard of, may actually be better than both of them.
Looking back, I can definitely sense some of Casaubon in the narration. But what makes Casaubon such an enjoyable narrator (aside from Umberto Eco soaking up knowledge like a sponge and being over 50 and nearly full to capacity when he wrote it) is that he constantly offers up snarky and incisive insights about the world around him.
Look at this passage, for instance:
Just in that one paragraph, you instantly “get” the atmosphere of the late 60s, with angry young radicals taking communist dogma as holy writ, delivered through the prism of a snarky, roguish intellectual who never, ever takes anything seriously commenting cheekily about the influence of the author’s personal life on the text.
It allows Casaubon to get across exposition that doesn’t feel like exposition, precisely because his presence of personality skews everything. That whole story about Zefarious and Vandaline in the first chapter of At First Glance is just dully recited. What does Jafar’s personality and his thoughts have to do with how he tells it? The people sleeping on the streets, why does he think it’s like an inn? Because he considers them unfit for civilized society? You need to put the character’s personality front and center in any line of first person narration.