Feel Like Writing Tonight!
Jul. 2nd, 2007 08:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cathschaffstumpFirst of all, the word count.
Chapter 3 is, in fact, two scenes from done, but they're from scratch scenes that require a little bit of research. It'll be a little while longer.
My old writing strategy seems a tried and true one: lay the pipe, layer on the details, edit. TAKE YOUR TIME is also important, n'est-ce pas? At least let things sit. I'm feeling pretty good about the sitting on this one. :)
***
I don't know if you've seen this scene from the version 2, which is making it into the final version. It's the first Errol/Shari scene. I am rather fond of it.
Errol opened the door of the church a tiny crack so the wind and snow wouldn’t blow in. If he hurried home, he’d be back before he was missed. He waited for Isis to squeeze through before him, but instead Isis sat on her haunches in the snow, not moving. “Come along,” said Errol. Isis mewed and would not budge. “People are going to believe nasty things about you, if you don’t come in here!” Errol urged. Isis remained in the snow. “Fine,” said Errol. “Freeze your paws then. Wait for me here.”
Candles were lit in the front of the church. Kneeling people prayed silently in various spots. Errol slipped into the back pew and kneeled. He said a prayer, the one his father had taught him to say each night before bed time. After he had recited it and thought about it a little, he assessed the people in the church with him. He noticed a girl pretending not to glance at him, but glancing at him. Standing next to her was an older woman, her hair plaited about her head. An older man leafed through a book to his right. Errol finally decided that the vicar in the front might the best person to ask about what was on his mind, but it would be a very peculiar question. Then again, if you couldn’t get angel feathers in a church, there wasn’t anywhere else in Hathersage you were likely to be able to get them.
An elderly lady shuffled past him and out the large doors. Cold air drafted back inside. The girl who had been watching him was beside him suddenly. Her long black hair was pulled back from her face. “ Hello,” she whispered.
“Hello” said Errol.
She glanced under the pew and in the aisle. “I don’t see your cat.”
“Isis wouldn’t come in,” said Errol, eying Shari carefully. “She wasn’t interested in praying.”
“I should think not,” said the girl, her voice amused. She had a turned up nose, glasses, and freckles. “I didn’t think your kind could come into a church.”
“My kind?” Errol echoed.
“Your kind,” she said. “I know about you. I’m interested in this sort of thing.”
“I see,” said Errol. “Your hobby?”
“Yes, sort of,” she replied. “My name is Shari Pitch. I’m sure you don’t know me, but you should. And you’re Errol Klarion.”
“How should I know you,” said Errol.
“My grandmother, Sophia, was your grandmother’s anchor. You do know what an anchor is?”
Errol smirked, mildly annoyed. “Of course I know what an anchor is!” The question for him was, why did Shari Pitch?
“Well, she told me all about it,” Shari said. Why are you here? Do your parents know where you are? Isn’t it odd for a Binder to be in a church?”
Errol was beginning to be annoyed. “I can come into a church, you know. My mother is a good Episcopalian. My parents married in a church. There isn’t a rule against someone with the curse coming into a church.”
“Whatever you say,” said Shari Pitch. “It seems odd to me, that’s all.”
“I do have a reason for being here,” said Errol.
“I thought you must,” said Shari.
“I’m looking for something,” sniffed Errol. “I don’t imagine that you’d know anything about it.”
“Whatever it is,” said Shari, “you could ask my gran. She might know. She does have some experience with this sort of thing.”
Errol hated to admit that it was a good idea. He glanced up two pews to where the woman with coiled hair was watching them, her disapproval of whispering in church obvious. The vicar was also frowning at them disapprovingly, and Shari’s grandmother embarrassedly walked back toward them. Errol was torn. It might be interesting to meet the woman who had been his grandmother’s anchor. However, he had snuck out without permission, and he might get into trouble for sneaking out of Mistraldol. He decided it might be time to leave, and walked away from Shari, making his way back to the door, when voices behind him called.
“Master Klarion! Stop!”
The vicar put a finger to his lips, his scowl intensifying. Shari’s grandmother caught his arm. Lowering her voice, she said, “Shari tells me you have a question.”
Sophia was a tall woman with steel gray hair and stern features up close. “I don’t mean to trouble you,” he apologized.
“You aren’t troubling me. Let us step outside, where we can talk more freely.”
The three of them slipped into the lazy snow and the graying twilight. Isis, lightening fast, shot onto Errol’s shoulder. Shari’s mouth formed a small o. She stroked Isis. “Such a pretty girl! All black!” Shari crooned.
“Where are your parents?” Sophia asked.
“About,” said Errol cagily.
The older woman glanced at Isis, who rubbed a paw over her nose velvet. “Is that how it is?” she said to the cat. “Young man, even though you have your cat, your family is bound to be worried about you being out.”
Isis had betrayed him! He wondered only vaguely how Shari’s grandmother could speak to a cat. “My apologies,” said Errol. “I did not mean to cause anyone alarm. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“You would be Geoffrey’s boy, Errol.”
“Correct,” said Errol. The wind blew, and Isis’ fur ruffled his cheek. “Do not concern yourself. My family will not be worried. They know I’ll be safe. I have Isis.”
“They know no such thing! It was very inconsiderate of you to come on your own! Now what were you looking for?”
Errol spoke softly. “Well, I wasn’t sure where to find them, but I need the feathers of a fallen angel.”
“Repeat that,” Sophia said slowly, looking at him sideways.
“The feathers of a fallen angel. Used to bind enemies in darkness?”
Shari laughed. “You thought you could find those here?” Isis swatted her with a paw, and Errol was grateful.
“I wasn’t sure where else to look,” said Errol, tentatively, “and I thought they would make a nice Christmas present.”
“I see,” said Sophia. “I don’t think you’re likely to find that sort of thing in Hathersage, unless there’s more to the priests and vicars about here than I know.” She glanced appraisingly at him. “Then again, there’s more to you, isn’t there?
“Of course,” said Shari, “if a vicar had them, he’d want to know how you’d know to ask for them. Did you think about that?”
Errol ignored Shari. “I know that they are needed for binding. If you know of my family, you know my cousin Esme. I thought if I found angel feathers for her, maybe she could do something about Ma’at. That’s her familiar. He causes her a great deal of difficulty. I thought maybe she could use them to keep him at bay, rather than waiting for her trial.”
“That was a good thought,” Sophia said, her voice softening. “You could have saved yourself some trouble if you’d asked your parents. They would have told you that there’s only one place to get those feathers.”
“Where?” asked Shari.
“None of your business, Miss Nosy,” said her grandmother, her eyes sparkling.
“Gran,” said Shari. “We should give Errol a ride home.”
“Thank you for your attentions,” said Errol, “although I think it is hardly necessary.”
“Gran,” said Shari, “I really think we should take Errol home.”
Mrs. Wellstone stared at Isis. “If I have your word that you will protect him?”
Isis meowed, sounding annoyed that the older woman asked. “Isis,” said Errol, “I will not say that! How rude of you!”
“I’ll take that as an affirmative,” said Mrs. Wellstone.
Shari scratched Isis under her chin. “Maybe, Errol, you can teach me to speak cat some day.”
Not likely, Errol thought. Shari Pitch didn’t need any more help in being a know-it-all. “Maybe,” said Errol. He started to walk away.
“Give my regards to your grandmother, when you see her again,” said Sophia.
“I will,” said Errol. Errol had yet to meet Elaine Klarion, although his father assured him that some day, she would come home.
| |
21,313 / 80,000 (26.6%) |
Chapter 3 is, in fact, two scenes from done, but they're from scratch scenes that require a little bit of research. It'll be a little while longer.
My old writing strategy seems a tried and true one: lay the pipe, layer on the details, edit. TAKE YOUR TIME is also important, n'est-ce pas? At least let things sit. I'm feeling pretty good about the sitting on this one. :)
***
I don't know if you've seen this scene from the version 2, which is making it into the final version. It's the first Errol/Shari scene. I am rather fond of it.
Errol opened the door of the church a tiny crack so the wind and snow wouldn’t blow in. If he hurried home, he’d be back before he was missed. He waited for Isis to squeeze through before him, but instead Isis sat on her haunches in the snow, not moving. “Come along,” said Errol. Isis mewed and would not budge. “People are going to believe nasty things about you, if you don’t come in here!” Errol urged. Isis remained in the snow. “Fine,” said Errol. “Freeze your paws then. Wait for me here.”
Candles were lit in the front of the church. Kneeling people prayed silently in various spots. Errol slipped into the back pew and kneeled. He said a prayer, the one his father had taught him to say each night before bed time. After he had recited it and thought about it a little, he assessed the people in the church with him. He noticed a girl pretending not to glance at him, but glancing at him. Standing next to her was an older woman, her hair plaited about her head. An older man leafed through a book to his right. Errol finally decided that the vicar in the front might the best person to ask about what was on his mind, but it would be a very peculiar question. Then again, if you couldn’t get angel feathers in a church, there wasn’t anywhere else in Hathersage you were likely to be able to get them.
An elderly lady shuffled past him and out the large doors. Cold air drafted back inside. The girl who had been watching him was beside him suddenly. Her long black hair was pulled back from her face. “ Hello,” she whispered.
“Hello” said Errol.
She glanced under the pew and in the aisle. “I don’t see your cat.”
“Isis wouldn’t come in,” said Errol, eying Shari carefully. “She wasn’t interested in praying.”
“I should think not,” said the girl, her voice amused. She had a turned up nose, glasses, and freckles. “I didn’t think your kind could come into a church.”
“My kind?” Errol echoed.
“Your kind,” she said. “I know about you. I’m interested in this sort of thing.”
“I see,” said Errol. “Your hobby?”
“Yes, sort of,” she replied. “My name is Shari Pitch. I’m sure you don’t know me, but you should. And you’re Errol Klarion.”
“How should I know you,” said Errol.
“My grandmother, Sophia, was your grandmother’s anchor. You do know what an anchor is?”
Errol smirked, mildly annoyed. “Of course I know what an anchor is!” The question for him was, why did Shari Pitch?
“Well, she told me all about it,” Shari said. Why are you here? Do your parents know where you are? Isn’t it odd for a Binder to be in a church?”
Errol was beginning to be annoyed. “I can come into a church, you know. My mother is a good Episcopalian. My parents married in a church. There isn’t a rule against someone with the curse coming into a church.”
“Whatever you say,” said Shari Pitch. “It seems odd to me, that’s all.”
“I do have a reason for being here,” said Errol.
“I thought you must,” said Shari.
“I’m looking for something,” sniffed Errol. “I don’t imagine that you’d know anything about it.”
“Whatever it is,” said Shari, “you could ask my gran. She might know. She does have some experience with this sort of thing.”
Errol hated to admit that it was a good idea. He glanced up two pews to where the woman with coiled hair was watching them, her disapproval of whispering in church obvious. The vicar was also frowning at them disapprovingly, and Shari’s grandmother embarrassedly walked back toward them. Errol was torn. It might be interesting to meet the woman who had been his grandmother’s anchor. However, he had snuck out without permission, and he might get into trouble for sneaking out of Mistraldol. He decided it might be time to leave, and walked away from Shari, making his way back to the door, when voices behind him called.
“Master Klarion! Stop!”
The vicar put a finger to his lips, his scowl intensifying. Shari’s grandmother caught his arm. Lowering her voice, she said, “Shari tells me you have a question.”
Sophia was a tall woman with steel gray hair and stern features up close. “I don’t mean to trouble you,” he apologized.
“You aren’t troubling me. Let us step outside, where we can talk more freely.”
The three of them slipped into the lazy snow and the graying twilight. Isis, lightening fast, shot onto Errol’s shoulder. Shari’s mouth formed a small o. She stroked Isis. “Such a pretty girl! All black!” Shari crooned.
“Where are your parents?” Sophia asked.
“About,” said Errol cagily.
The older woman glanced at Isis, who rubbed a paw over her nose velvet. “Is that how it is?” she said to the cat. “Young man, even though you have your cat, your family is bound to be worried about you being out.”
Isis had betrayed him! He wondered only vaguely how Shari’s grandmother could speak to a cat. “My apologies,” said Errol. “I did not mean to cause anyone alarm. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“You would be Geoffrey’s boy, Errol.”
“Correct,” said Errol. The wind blew, and Isis’ fur ruffled his cheek. “Do not concern yourself. My family will not be worried. They know I’ll be safe. I have Isis.”
“They know no such thing! It was very inconsiderate of you to come on your own! Now what were you looking for?”
Errol spoke softly. “Well, I wasn’t sure where to find them, but I need the feathers of a fallen angel.”
“Repeat that,” Sophia said slowly, looking at him sideways.
“The feathers of a fallen angel. Used to bind enemies in darkness?”
Shari laughed. “You thought you could find those here?” Isis swatted her with a paw, and Errol was grateful.
“I wasn’t sure where else to look,” said Errol, tentatively, “and I thought they would make a nice Christmas present.”
“I see,” said Sophia. “I don’t think you’re likely to find that sort of thing in Hathersage, unless there’s more to the priests and vicars about here than I know.” She glanced appraisingly at him. “Then again, there’s more to you, isn’t there?
“Of course,” said Shari, “if a vicar had them, he’d want to know how you’d know to ask for them. Did you think about that?”
Errol ignored Shari. “I know that they are needed for binding. If you know of my family, you know my cousin Esme. I thought if I found angel feathers for her, maybe she could do something about Ma’at. That’s her familiar. He causes her a great deal of difficulty. I thought maybe she could use them to keep him at bay, rather than waiting for her trial.”
“That was a good thought,” Sophia said, her voice softening. “You could have saved yourself some trouble if you’d asked your parents. They would have told you that there’s only one place to get those feathers.”
“Where?” asked Shari.
“None of your business, Miss Nosy,” said her grandmother, her eyes sparkling.
“Gran,” said Shari. “We should give Errol a ride home.”
“Thank you for your attentions,” said Errol, “although I think it is hardly necessary.”
“Gran,” said Shari, “I really think we should take Errol home.”
Mrs. Wellstone stared at Isis. “If I have your word that you will protect him?”
Isis meowed, sounding annoyed that the older woman asked. “Isis,” said Errol, “I will not say that! How rude of you!”
“I’ll take that as an affirmative,” said Mrs. Wellstone.
Shari scratched Isis under her chin. “Maybe, Errol, you can teach me to speak cat some day.”
Not likely, Errol thought. Shari Pitch didn’t need any more help in being a know-it-all. “Maybe,” said Errol. He started to walk away.
“Give my regards to your grandmother, when you see her again,” said Sophia.
“I will,” said Errol. Errol had yet to meet Elaine Klarion, although his father assured him that some day, she would come home.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-03 08:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-03 06:57 pm (UTC)Catherine
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-04 09:51 pm (UTC)i think your'e usinga godo set of tricks to pull the readers in. none of that liflaf marketing what-can-i-di-to-make-this-sell-like-hp. i'm glad you've bene able to compelley pull this otu of the hp verse (and ialso see it was great playgroudn to testthis-oen out.)
it's jsut so damn godo already, i'm aboutto say if you wont' fidn an agent for this-one i'll throttle the mall. i mean come on! if this ever comes out and hasa blurb comparing itto any wllknown classic that'ssuposto make the readerthink 'ah if it's liek soandso it might be good' *buys*. i mean forget it. i don't knwo when you foudn your own unique writing voice or narrative toneor whatever it's called but yay. it's liek hearing a singer some years afterh e finally stepepd out of the immitation box and be used totheir own sound.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-05 04:43 pm (UTC)Thanks.