[Fic] "Ashes" part 8 -- original, NaNo 2010

( Ashes, part 8 )

1) Well, that conversation went in a completely different direction from what I expected! I was trying to get Riam and Sular to explain the mechanics of binding in more detail, but instead we get cultural differences between Shani and Zerlon, plus backstory on Morgalen and Riam. Oh, whatever -- that information needed to come out sooner or later, and this works as well as anything, I suppose.

2) About the saltwater thing: I realized at some point that in order to make the world-building backstory work, the miasma needed to be deadly relatively quickly, in order to depopulate the south... but that would make travel between protected areas next to impossible. Hence the idea of low-tech gas masks, or the equivalent thereof. They must be damp to keep working, so travelers have to carry not just drinking water but also saltwater to keep refreshing their facemasks so they won't, you know, die of a combination of oxygen deprivation and miasma-poisoning. My handwave is that a few people in a seacoast town used to use that trick when dealing with, I dunno, the stink of gutted fish or a sulfur-heavy hot springs or something, and someone tried it as a desperate remedy against the miasma that turned out to actually work.

3) slowmercury pointed out that Riam told Morgalen that Sular was a binder, even though Tir had previously told him not to do that. Internal continuity error for the lose! (This is what happens when I write without editing. *headdesk*) Anyway, I decided to make Riam's slip a character point and see what happens.

4) 1,825 words today, 11,150 total. (That means I'm over 5,500 words behind on aiming for 50,000 words, but still on track for my more realistic goal of 30,000, which I will take as a conditional win. *wry*)

[Meme] 15 questions about my fics

I am avoiding my NaNo by doing random memes -- hooray for procrastination! I snagged this one from askerian and branchandroot:

1. Which is your favorite fic? Despite having written a lot of stories over the years -- many of which I am quite fond of -- I can easily give you my three very most favorites. They are, in no particular order, "The Way of the Apartment Manager," "Knives," and "Finding Marea: Truth and Change in the Circle of Kemar."

The first is a novel-length OC-centric Naruto fic that starts in a slightly AU pre-manga setting and goes more AU over the course of the story; it is made of heartwarming and adorable. The second is a longish Harry Potter oneshot set after an alternate Book 7, wherein Ginny semi-accidentally captures Lucius Malfoy and tortures him in secret for several years while simultaneously starting a romantic relationship with Harry. The third is original fiction, dealing with questions of truth, change, faith, and the nature of stories as refracted through the lens of a fictional goddess-centric religion and one woman's attempt to analyze one of their sacred tales.

( more questions )

15. Tag five other authors! Oh, if you want to play and haven't played yet, consider yourself tagged -- I cannot be bothered to pick actual names. *is lazy*


I may come back and add links to the story titles at some point, but I may just as well not. See above re: lazy.

other people's poetry

The DRE at my church sends out a weekly inspirational email, which tends to consist of a poem she liked that week. Many of them are generically and forgettably uplifting, but I found this week's choice very interesting; it made me stop and reread it again, slower, and then a third time. I usually skim Jennifer's choices and immediately delete the emails. This one, as you can see, I am still thinking about.



Introduction to Poetry
by Billy Collins

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem's room

and feel the walls for a light switch.
I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope

and torture a confession out of it.
They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.