Chapter 2 Rewrite Done; Into Chapter 3
Dec. 12th, 2007 08:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cathschaffstumpWell, that's chapter 2. The chapters are cashing in around 20ish pages now, which I think will also make them friendlier to a YA audience.
Here's a brand new scene, so those of you familiar with previous versions of the story might like it. This is how we introduce Professor Borgia this time around, give Stephan a little confidence, and clue you all in on what happens sometime in book 2, which has yet to be written (this guy, although no one really needs to know, is book 3).
Stephan hid in his room. He was certain that Uncle Geoffrey would punish him for yelling at Errol. They might even send him back to his father. Errol was, after all, Geoffrey’s real son. Stephan clenched his fists.
The shadows lowered from the ceiling. He couldn’t see where the normal shadows of light ended and the living shadows began. They moved with the susurrus of leaves. Stephan was boxed in. If Esper were here, instead of with Eurydice, she would tell these strange shadows how to behave! Stephan’s heart pounded. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the shadows, but the rustling sounded like wing beats. He flung open the door and raced into the hall. The shadows billowed out after him, joining other shadows in the hall, making an angry storm cloud.
Stephan’s glance darted up the hall, down the hall. The shadows gathered behind him, keeping him from the stairs that would let him go down to dinner. Quickening his pace, he moved to the room next to his and tried the door. No good. The shadows threatened. Soon he would be in the thick of them, smothering.
At the end of the hall was a new door he’d never seen before. It didn’t matter. He sprinted toward the door and yanked on it. He slammed it from the other side just as the shadows swooped toward him. When his eyes grew used to the dark, Stephan saw stairs corkscrewing up, lights stationed every few feet. The shadows did not seem alive in the corridor. Holding the railing, he began the spiraling climb.
There was a small trap door at the top. It opened into a room brilliant with light, windows lining one entire wall. The design of the room was old; wooden cabinets striped the room, with tall stools behind them. Unusual equipment covered the tables: metal burners with rubber hoses, beakers, test tubes. These modern things were mixed in with large black pots and bottles of strange things: herbs, mushrooms, bits and pieces of things that might have been alive. Stephan examined a bottle of lizards, more curious about the animals than alarmed by them. He climbed onto one of the stools to get a look at their iridescent scales.
From his new vantage point, he could see that a counter across from him was covered in necklaces, rings, sticks, all sorts of jewelry. He rubbed his eyes. The jewelry glowed slightly. He decided the reflection was a trick of the afternoon sun, shining in through the large window.
Next to the jar of lizards was a black cauldron. The goop in it smelled sour. Stephan peered inside. The liquid swirled and then he saw a thing, part man, part goat, dancing somewhere that looked like the mountains. He saw a woman with long black hair, a silver stripe through it, reaching out her hand toward the goat-man, but unable to reach him. Then the scene changed. Another woman, her silver hair fanned behind her in the wind spread her hands. The earth cracked open, and fire swallowed the first woman as she sank into the ground.
Stephan shrank back, shivering. That was precisely the moment that the whistling began. The tune was one Stephan didn’t know, the whistling low, the tune complicated. He turned to see a man leaning against one of the counters, hands shoved into the pockets of a suit he wore. The man was small, with a pencil thin moustache, and not much hair. He removed one of the hands and rubbed his chin.
“There might be some talent in you after all,” said the man. “Not everyone can make that cauldron work.”
Stephan jumped off the stool. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean anything!”
“How did you get in here?” the man asked.
“I was running from the shadows,” said Stephan. “I’ll leave now. I’m sorry.”
The man shook his head. “No need to apologize.” Stephan noted that the man talked with some sort of accent. He appraised Stephan. “You look like your father and your mother,” he said. “That’s to be expected, of course. People probably think you look most like your father, but those of us who know what to look for, we think a bit differently.”
“You knew my parents?” Stephan asked. “Who are you?”
“A friend of the family. You can call me Professor Borgia. I taught your mother in this very room. And you, you’re Stephan, of course. How do you like Mistraldol?”
“I think Errol is trying to kill me,” said Stephan.
Professor Borgia did not laugh. “I think not,” he said. “Errol is so polite, he would ask your permission first before trying to kill you.”
Stephan squared his chest. “If they send me back to my father,” he said, his voice quavering, “Do you think they will let my sister stay?”
Professor Borgia’s brow creased. “Please do not worry. I think your aunt and uncle will want both of you to stay. I can understand that living here might be hard, with Ma’at and Isis. Errol’s a good boy, but he can tease too much. So we’ll have to do something about that, yes?” Professor Borgia crossed to the rings, and tossed Stephan a silver one, with a black onyx. “Put that on,” he said. “That will help you with the demons.”
Stephan caught the ring and held it. It was warm, not like hot metal, but like a living thing. “Who were those people in the cauldron?” Stephan asked.
“What did you see?” Professor Borgia asked, eyebrow raised.
“A goat man and two women. One buried the other, in fire.”
“Well,” said Borgia, considering. After a pause, he said, “I wouldn’t worry about that.”
“What happened to her?”
Professor Borgia glanced at his watch. “Oh, dinner. They’ll be wondering where you are. Don’t worry about the shadows. They won’t bother you if you put that ring on.”
Stephan slid the ring onto his finger. He lifted the trap door and then turned back. “Can we help that woman?” he asked.
“I hope we can,” said Professor Borgia.
“Shouldn’t we do something?” asked Stephan.
“As soon as I find her. Now, off with you.”
I went ahead and looked over the first two scenes of chapter 3, which introduce necessary characters and conflict. I think they mostly stay, and I can't see a whole lot of necessary tightening. That takes me to a very blahblahblah scene. I'll be substituting some active, scary villainy. Let's see what my dark side can come up with.
Priorities are in the right place. NOW to check some papers.
Catherine
Here's a brand new scene, so those of you familiar with previous versions of the story might like it. This is how we introduce Professor Borgia this time around, give Stephan a little confidence, and clue you all in on what happens sometime in book 2, which has yet to be written (this guy, although no one really needs to know, is book 3).
Stephan hid in his room. He was certain that Uncle Geoffrey would punish him for yelling at Errol. They might even send him back to his father. Errol was, after all, Geoffrey’s real son. Stephan clenched his fists.
The shadows lowered from the ceiling. He couldn’t see where the normal shadows of light ended and the living shadows began. They moved with the susurrus of leaves. Stephan was boxed in. If Esper were here, instead of with Eurydice, she would tell these strange shadows how to behave! Stephan’s heart pounded. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the shadows, but the rustling sounded like wing beats. He flung open the door and raced into the hall. The shadows billowed out after him, joining other shadows in the hall, making an angry storm cloud.
Stephan’s glance darted up the hall, down the hall. The shadows gathered behind him, keeping him from the stairs that would let him go down to dinner. Quickening his pace, he moved to the room next to his and tried the door. No good. The shadows threatened. Soon he would be in the thick of them, smothering.
At the end of the hall was a new door he’d never seen before. It didn’t matter. He sprinted toward the door and yanked on it. He slammed it from the other side just as the shadows swooped toward him. When his eyes grew used to the dark, Stephan saw stairs corkscrewing up, lights stationed every few feet. The shadows did not seem alive in the corridor. Holding the railing, he began the spiraling climb.
There was a small trap door at the top. It opened into a room brilliant with light, windows lining one entire wall. The design of the room was old; wooden cabinets striped the room, with tall stools behind them. Unusual equipment covered the tables: metal burners with rubber hoses, beakers, test tubes. These modern things were mixed in with large black pots and bottles of strange things: herbs, mushrooms, bits and pieces of things that might have been alive. Stephan examined a bottle of lizards, more curious about the animals than alarmed by them. He climbed onto one of the stools to get a look at their iridescent scales.
From his new vantage point, he could see that a counter across from him was covered in necklaces, rings, sticks, all sorts of jewelry. He rubbed his eyes. The jewelry glowed slightly. He decided the reflection was a trick of the afternoon sun, shining in through the large window.
Next to the jar of lizards was a black cauldron. The goop in it smelled sour. Stephan peered inside. The liquid swirled and then he saw a thing, part man, part goat, dancing somewhere that looked like the mountains. He saw a woman with long black hair, a silver stripe through it, reaching out her hand toward the goat-man, but unable to reach him. Then the scene changed. Another woman, her silver hair fanned behind her in the wind spread her hands. The earth cracked open, and fire swallowed the first woman as she sank into the ground.
Stephan shrank back, shivering. That was precisely the moment that the whistling began. The tune was one Stephan didn’t know, the whistling low, the tune complicated. He turned to see a man leaning against one of the counters, hands shoved into the pockets of a suit he wore. The man was small, with a pencil thin moustache, and not much hair. He removed one of the hands and rubbed his chin.
“There might be some talent in you after all,” said the man. “Not everyone can make that cauldron work.”
Stephan jumped off the stool. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean anything!”
“How did you get in here?” the man asked.
“I was running from the shadows,” said Stephan. “I’ll leave now. I’m sorry.”
The man shook his head. “No need to apologize.” Stephan noted that the man talked with some sort of accent. He appraised Stephan. “You look like your father and your mother,” he said. “That’s to be expected, of course. People probably think you look most like your father, but those of us who know what to look for, we think a bit differently.”
“You knew my parents?” Stephan asked. “Who are you?”
“A friend of the family. You can call me Professor Borgia. I taught your mother in this very room. And you, you’re Stephan, of course. How do you like Mistraldol?”
“I think Errol is trying to kill me,” said Stephan.
Professor Borgia did not laugh. “I think not,” he said. “Errol is so polite, he would ask your permission first before trying to kill you.”
Stephan squared his chest. “If they send me back to my father,” he said, his voice quavering, “Do you think they will let my sister stay?”
Professor Borgia’s brow creased. “Please do not worry. I think your aunt and uncle will want both of you to stay. I can understand that living here might be hard, with Ma’at and Isis. Errol’s a good boy, but he can tease too much. So we’ll have to do something about that, yes?” Professor Borgia crossed to the rings, and tossed Stephan a silver one, with a black onyx. “Put that on,” he said. “That will help you with the demons.”
Stephan caught the ring and held it. It was warm, not like hot metal, but like a living thing. “Who were those people in the cauldron?” Stephan asked.
“What did you see?” Professor Borgia asked, eyebrow raised.
“A goat man and two women. One buried the other, in fire.”
“Well,” said Borgia, considering. After a pause, he said, “I wouldn’t worry about that.”
“What happened to her?”
Professor Borgia glanced at his watch. “Oh, dinner. They’ll be wondering where you are. Don’t worry about the shadows. They won’t bother you if you put that ring on.”
Stephan slid the ring onto his finger. He lifted the trap door and then turned back. “Can we help that woman?” he asked.
“I hope we can,” said Professor Borgia.
“Shouldn’t we do something?” asked Stephan.
“As soon as I find her. Now, off with you.”
I went ahead and looked over the first two scenes of chapter 3, which introduce necessary characters and conflict. I think they mostly stay, and I can't see a whole lot of necessary tightening. That takes me to a very blahblahblah scene. I'll be substituting some active, scary villainy. Let's see what my dark side can come up with.
Priorities are in the right place. NOW to check some papers.
Catherine