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Novel_in_90: Day 10

GENRE: Fantasy
PROJECT:
WORDCOUNT: words
TOTAL: 4704+754 = 5458

“We need a title.” The writer wandered on-scene with a slightly confused glance at the third cat. “And when did we start adding in side quests?”

“We don’t have a story yet, how can we possibly have a title?” The fictive looked up from cleaning one of the khail’s hooves. The animal gave a contented sign and leaned a little harder. The fictive gave up and let the hoof drop. “And he just showed up, blame Old cat for that one.”

The older of the original cats ignored them both with an appropriately feline aplomb.

“We need a title or I have to keep calling this ‘The Story Without a Name’, which, on the whole, is pretty lame.” The writer pondered trying to give Old Cat a head-skritch and then decided she was rather fond of keeping all four limbs. “Something about journey’s and upheavals and whatnot.”

“Which would sort of require that you remember to post the catch-up for Day 8, yeah?”

“Oh, right.” The writer nipped her laptop from a pocket dimension and posted the catch-up. “There we go, discussion of plotting posted and away!”

“You know, anyone reading this later is going to get seriously confused.”

“You’re the one that said first drafts are supposed to suck.” The writer tucked the laptop back into the pocket dimension before one of the khail took a hankering for a midday snack. “Now, back to titles!”

“I veto anything with ‘The’ or a magic plot coupon in the title.”

The writer gave her fictive a measuring look. “You do realize this is a High Fantasy story, right?”

“Yup.”

“And yet, ‘no plot coupons in the title’.”

“Exactly.”

“Impossible!”

“No, just highly improbable.” The fictive grinned at her exasperated writer. “Heck, you can even pick something that makes no sense until later on in the story.”

“I think using a spoiler as a title might be frowned on, just a tad.”

“Like the back cover copy isn’t going to spoil everything to start with.”

“Mmm, point.”

“So, avoiding the word ‘The’ and any plot coupons you might have hidden up your sleeve… what have we got?”

“‘Death from the Mountains?’ I dunno… If it wasn’t summer I’d steal ‘Hushed and White With Snow’s title.”

“Yeah, no song lyrics either.”

“Spoilsport.” The writer looked over at the cats. “Any ideas?”

The cats continued to ignored her and the fictive rolled her eyes. “Right, ask the cats. I’m sure that’ll work.”

“Hey, can’t hurt to try.”

“Back on topic… I’m leaning towards ‘How to Survive the End of the World’, but that’s taking wild liberties with spoilers and clichés. Besides,” the fictive gave the author a withering look, “I’m still not sure I am surviving.”

“I make no promises.”

“Neither confirm nor deny, eh?” The fictive sighed. “Oh well, at least you didn’t start off with Book One of The Endless Cycle or somesuch. One book gigs aren’t that bad, all things considered.”

“You’re just trying to goad me into a trilogy, aren’t you.” The writer gave her fictive a suspicious look, “One book at a time, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t know why I bother, we’re just going to end up with some bland two word title that sounds generically poetic.”

“If you don’t can it, I’m going to end up writing a book about writing a book.” The writer and the fictive glared at each other for a bit, which amused the cats.

“We could call it ‘When Mountains Attack!’”

“No.”

“‘The Rocks Have Eyes’”

“Hell no, plus it starts with ‘The’.” Nahyl glared at the writer.

“‘Eyes, We Have Thems?’”

“You may not LOLtitle anything. Ever.”

The cats, however, were amused and the writer felt vindicated.

“‘Patterns of Stone’?”

“Hmm,” the fictive mulled the title for a moment. “Not bad, yet it still has that ‘generic fantasy’ feel to it. ‘Noun of Adjective’ is just a rehash of ‘ ‘Adjective Noun’. You could just as well call it ‘Stone Patterns’.”

“Be nice or I’ll call it ‘Rocks Fall, Everyone Dies’.”

There was a long pause.

“Seriously, I’ll do it. I’ll call it ‘Patterns of Stone (or: Rocks Fall, Everyone Dies)’.” The writer looked quite please with herself, as if resorting to RPG clichés as subtitles was somehow a good thing.

“Well, I suppose there are worse things to call a book… and at least they can’t claim false advertising.”

“Oh come off it already,” the writer snapped, “I’m not actually going to kill everyone.”

“Just mostly everyone.”

“Happy endings!” The writer grinned.

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These snippits are copyright Martha McMahon Bechtel and may not be reproduced or distributed without express permission. All rights reserved.

Dogs of the Never Never : Index

Click here for the story summary (profile page).

Chapter 1 : Tricks of the Light (2,317 words)
Chapter 2 : The Chapter Without a Silly Name (2,334 words)
Chapter 3 : Through the Wild-Wood Green* (4,073 words)
Chapter 4 : Interesting Times (416 words)
Chapter 5 : Insanity Loves Company (2,815 words)

Most likely not in order…

Chapter ?? : Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? (1,101 words)
Chapter ?? : No, I Expect You to Die (2,309 words)
Chapter ?? : The Secret Lair (1,349 words)
Chapter ?? : It’s a Small Small World (4,326 words)

* HAFBUR AND SIGNY. TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH.

Worldbuilding (or: Me, My Shadow, and I)

We’ve got three worlds to play in here, and I guess I sort of need to start laying out the groundwork for them. *cracks knuckles* Time to put some science in my fiction. ^_~ *grin*

Life
Okay, so Life is the easy bit to define. That’s reality (well, fantastical reality, but still). It’s the normal everyday world. No magic! None! BWHAHAHA! Erm, yeah, so technically I’m really stretching the definition of ‘urban fantasy’, but c’est la vie.

Veil
This would be the bit in-between Life and Death. Sort of like a no-man’s land between the dimensions (only they aren’t really dimensions). Things from the Veil can exists in both of the other planes, but have very very minimal influence over them without an anchor. The Veil critters are actually concentrated Veil-stuffs, so technically the whole darned thing is alive. (Although the bit that isn’t critters isn’t sentient or even really that aware.) So Life and Death are both actual places and the Veil is sort of a membrane that separates them.

Death
But Death isn’t the afterlife so much as a purgatory. Folks only hang around there until they ‘let go of living’ at which point they vamoose to points unknown. So it’s not Heaven, nor Hell, and thus I suppose I should root around and see what I can find about purgatorial destinations in the various religions. Want to keep it as non-religious as possible (which is amusing considering the implications of the basic concepts, but oh well ^_~;) Each person brings their world with them, to some extent, when they die. Thus it’s sort of a patchwork of times and places, each group (or individual) have their own little fiefdom. Since folks don’t stay permanently there, it’s not like you have everyone who ever died still hanging around…

[more rambling to follow]

Revised back cover blurb

Because the last one was pretty boring… *pokes it with a stick* Bleh. :P

————————————

Sometimes the last thing the world needs is a hero.

The struggle between the Hinds and Hounds has been going on for millennia. Drawing both the dead and the living into their fight for control of the Veil, the two sides are ratcheting up the violence to the point of full scale war.

Both Hounds and Hinds treat their human anchors as mere tools in their struggle for supremacy, but the bonds weren’t always one-sided affairs. Back in the distant ages when the Powers that Be first closed the Veil, the humans were a vital part of both hunt and herd. Now, as the violence reaches new highs, it’s up to a small pack of Dogs to try and recreated that bond.

We can rebuild it…

Jon: You do realize moving requires more than simply dumping boxes from one space to another. *eyes mass posts of story-in-progress*

Writer: Meh.

Akela: *sniffs around the piles of world building and sets to gnawing happily on one of the story bones* I have backstory!

Writer: Hey, hey, I need that!

Akela: Mmmm… *gnaw*

Jon: You could at least label them… *pokes one of the boxes with a foot*

Box: *growl*

Jon: … Please tell me I imagined that.

Writer: Technically, you imagine everything.

Jon: *is not comforted*

Muse: Hey, how’s it going? *enters apartment, beers and scooby snacks in hand*

Akela: Beer!

Jon: Snacks!

Box: *mutter*

Writer: *headdesk*