#companion to the mill house piece i did earlier ?!?!

[deductivisms]

my goodness, we all look really stupid.

[nekoabiwrites]

Of Princes and Potions - Chapter 4

So.. this will be my first time writing Deceit in a chapter and I hope it’s good???

AU: Royal, Fantasy Pairing: Pining Logince Words: 2046 Warnings: Deceit being a prankster, snake mention.Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: Sir Virgil has some free time and decides to go into town. When he gets back, he runs into his least favourite person...

Virgil sighed heavily as he put his armour back in place, feeling a lot more relaxed in his civilian clothing. He had some spare time and simply wanted to take that time for himself, especially after a few days of working hard with the new recruits. He thought about how well they’d done as he wandered over to the stables to grab his horse, which he’d instructed Demitri to prepare earlier that day.

After having to deal with the strange man and his extremely off-putting and unnatural-looking snake companion, Virgil slowly rode his beloved horse down the road towards the town, taking in the low afternoon sun.

It was one of his favourite things to do, just wander into town and patrol around the streets for a while. He dealt with many worries at almost all times, which extended to the people of the town and their safety, so this was one of his ways to quell those worries for a short time. Also, he knew that it made several of the townspeople feel safer themselves, so Virgil felt it was also his duty to go on a weekly patrol. It had the added benefit of getting his gorgeous Mhyrtia out and about, giving her the extra exercise.

Virgil smiled to himself as he leant forward to lightly caress the mare’s mane. He adored his beautiful dark horse in every way. She was loyal and well-trained, mostly due to the fact she had been his ever since he could remember. Mhyrtia was always wonderfully calm and friendly with all who encountered her, which made her perfect for doing these patrols.

The knight passed through the gate that separated the town from the castle grounds and was immediately hit by the noise of the busy streets. People wandered up and down the main road, some stood in small groups and clusters off to the sides chatting about whatever gossip was new that day. Virgil was easily able to recognise all of those who were nearest to the gate as they were the nobles, who lived as close to the castle as they could. Most of them noticed him and greeted him with fake smiles and false pleasantries. He responded with the minimum that was needed to be polite before making his way further down the road.

The nobles always rubbed Virgil the wrong way. All they ever seemed to want was more; more wealth, more power, a higher status, and they would use all the wrong ways to go about it. Virgil’s stomach turned as he thought about the multitude of nobles from the past who had done dealings with the most unsavoury of characters in order to pursue their unnecessary goals, some nobles forced their children to go to every high-profile party in order to try and marry them into a richer household. The worst part to Virgil was how they were all eyeing the throne, as if it were simply a title and a large amount of gold. None of them truly understood what the king’s responsibilities were, how busy he was each and every day, the amount of compassion and care he gave to every person in the kingdom and it really made Virgil’s blood boil.

He passed by the nobles’ district, face stoic as he continued to dwell on their disgusting desires and habits. He made his way past many businesses that lined the top half of the town, most of them being taverns or rest houses for travellers.

Virgil forced the horrid nobles from his mind as he reached the centre of the town. The market was just beginning to die down as many of the customers and stall owners were getting ready to head back to their homes for the night, but it was still a loud, busy area that Virgil both loved and despised.

Mhyrtia carefully stepped along the street, trying her best to avoid harming any of the townsfolk as she carried her rider around the large circle that sat in the centre of town. They’d decided to head around to the left first and they stuck close to the wall of the central building in order to not be too much of an obstacle. Within seconds, some of the local children came running up after noticing the horse and the knight. They pleaded for Virgil to let them pet Mhyrtia, who – without prompting – lowered her head towards the young children. All of them squealed happily and stroked her head, following instruction from Virgil in order to do it correctly. Their parents caught up and exchanged polite conversation with the knight captain before taking their children along with them as they headed on their way.

This was a series of events that happened multiple times on Virgil’s short trip around the town centre, all the while it was interspersed with polite nods and small acknowledging smiles to the vendors shouting over to him and other townsfolk around him. Everyone in the town knew Virgil wasn’t one for much conversation and had come to terms with the fact they would be extremely unlikely to get anymore than a sentence from the stoic knight.

Virgil rode down the straight path from the town centre towards the main gate leading out of the capital to the rest of the kingdom. He went to drop by the town guards’ barracks and office for surprise visit, checking everything was still in order. Virgil felt a shot of amusement at the alarmed and flustered faces of the guards as he walked through the doors. Everything was fine, and they had no reason to truly be so fearful, but Virgil understood and was more than pleased to know that his reputation was still causing such reactions. After spending half an hour with the guards, the knight made his way back up towards the castle.

On the trip back up, he took Mhyrtia around the side of the centre of town they’d missed on their first trip, though he stopped only a few paces around to grab a few pieces of fruit from a seller nearby. The rest of the walk back was a lot quieter than before, now that many of the townspeople were settled in their homes or were spending time in the taverns. Virgil ran into no problems, though he didn’t expect to.

Passing through the gates back at the top of the town and making his way back towards the castle, Virgil reflected on the difference he’d seen in the town since Patton had taken the throne. The man was well-loved and respected by all, there had been a significant decrease in petty crime and even the usual rumour mills were quietening down over time, which eased a lot of Virgil’s usual concerns. The town and – by extension – the rest of the kingdom were much happier than before, even though Patton’s father had also been a beloved ruler. Virgil mulled over the fact that it could have something to do with the war against the Yitra quite a few years back and the lack of their kind may have contributed to the decrease in the darker side of the capital, but he didn’t want to think about it too much.

Virgil rode Mhyrtia back towards the stables and led her inside, his mind still far from his present location. He reached into the bag attached to her side and pulled out one of the fruits he’d bought, holding it out towards the dark horse. Mhyrtia happily took it from her rider, clearly enjoying being spoilt. He always did this after a ride out in town and it was one of her favourite things, even though Virgil tended to give her sweet treats frequently throughout the week.

“You shouldn’t treat her so much. She’ll become a spoilt brat.”

Virgil physically jumped and span on the spot, his heart pounding. He caught sight of Demitri walking across the other side of the stable, tending to the rest of the horses that were there, “When did you get there?!” The knight asked harshly, stepping closer to his personal horse almost defensively, “and what do you know? She won’t do that.”

Demitri snorted and looked over his shoulder with a patronising pout, “I’ve been here the whole time, you just didn’t see me. And I know much more than you, I’m sure.”

Virgil scowled deeply, his lip twitching up slightly in a show of aggression, “Whatever. She still won’t be a brat, no matter what.” He petted Mhyrtia, turning his back to the animal handler. Virgil really wasn’t in the mood for the odd man and his antics this evening. He focused completely on tending to his own horse, taking all her riding equipment off and placing it in its usual spot. This did mean he wasn’t paying attention.

The knight reached to hang the last of the equipment up on the wall when something on one of the hooks moved. He screeched and dropped the piece in his hand to the floor as he stumbled back a few steps, hand clutching his chest. Behind him, he could hear Demitri laughing heartily. Virgil turned to glare at the animal handler.

“You should have heard yourself!” Demitri spoke through his laughter, “If only all the kingdom could see their feared protector scream so violently.”

Virgil growled and narrowed his eyes, “Just put that thing away before I put it down.” He threatened.

Demitri immediately recovered from his laughter, as if nothing had happened and it had all been an elaborate act. He stalked past the knight captain, close enough to brush against his body even as the man twitched away from his path. “Come, my sweet. It seems there are some innocent, harmless, defenceless creatures who the wonderful, selfless Sir Virgil would dare harm. Let’s get you away from him.” He coaxed the snake, who’d been sliding herself across the multiple hooks that hung on the wall, back up onto her usual resting place around his shoulders.

The animal tamer followed the same path back the way he came, getting somewhat close to the knight once more, teasing him with the proximity to the snake coiled around his shoulders. As Virgil took two steps back once more, Demitri exaggeratedly gasped and gave a false apologetic look, “Oh, I am so terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to get so close.” He casually continued towards the door of the stables, turning as he was about to step through, “Goodnight, Sir Virgil.” Demitri gave a sarcastic smile before disappearing into the low light of the evening.

After returning to his horse once more, Virgil returned to his room and sat down in the chair that faced the window. He looked out at courtyard, body still humming with adrenaline, fear and frustration. For some reason, the animal tamer seemed to know exactly how to get on his last nerve, pull ever lever and push each button just right to send him spiralling into annoyance and it really did get to Virgil in all the worst ways. He tried his hardest to relax but found himself too restless. He needed to rant to someone about all this and he knew exactly who he was going to go and see. The knight captain stormed out of his room and into the castle proper.

It was times like this Virgil was thankful for the friendship he had with the reigning king. He doubted that any previous king would allow him to stalk his way through the many halls and up multiple staircases at such a late time, or really at any time of day unless it was a dire situation. He remembered his father being unable to even enter the castle unless given express permission or having a validated reason, though all of that was far from his mind as he climbed the higher and higher through the castle.

Finally, he reached the room he wanted. Virgil slammed the door open, causing the thick wood to make a loud bang against the furniture that stopped it in its path, “I hate him so much, Logan.” As he shouted, a loud smashing and splashing caused the knight to snap out of his angered haze, which then allowed him to see the scene in front of him.

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[artemis-entreri]

[[ This post contains Part 2 of my review/analysis of the Forgotten Realms/Drizzt novel, Boundless, by R. A. Salvatore. As such, the entirety of this post’s content is OOC. ]]

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Generations: Book 2 | Legend of Drizzt #35 (#32 if not counting The Sellswords)

Publisher: Harper Collins (September 10, 2019)

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

Additional Information: Artwork for the cover of Boundless and used above is originally done by Aleks Melnik. This post CONTAINS SPOILERS. Furthermore, this discussion concerns topics that I am very passionate about, and as such, at times I do use strong language. Read and expand the cut at your own discretion.

Contents:

I. Introduction

II. Positives     II.1 Pure Positives     II.2 Muddled Positives

III. Mediocre Writing Style (you are here)     III.1 Bad Descriptions     III.2 Salvatorisms     III.3 Laborious “Action”

IV. Poor Characterization     IV.1 “Maestro”     IV.2 Lieutenant     IV.3 Barbarian     IV.4 “Hero”     IV.5 Mother

V. World Breaks    V.1 Blinders Against the Greater World     V.2 Befuddlement of Earth and Toril     V.3 Self-Inconsistency     V.4 Dungeon Amateur     V.5 Utter Nonsense

VI. Ego Stroking     VI.1 The Ineffable Companions of the Hall     VI.2 Me, Myself, and I

VII. World Breaks     VII.1 No Homo     VII.2 Disrespect of Women     VII.3 Social-normalization     VII.4 Eugenics

VIII. What’s Next    VIII.1 Drizzt Ascends to Godhood    VIII.2 Profane Redemption    VIII.3 Passing the Torch    VIII.4 Don’t Notice Me Senpai

Mediocre Writing Style

I admire some authors for their lyrical phrases, some for their poignant imagery, some for their rapid-fire dialogues, and with so many others, for their ability to show a true mastery of language. I have never felt this way about Salvatore's literature, which will probably never win any awards for its diction if it remains consistent to its current level of quality. Salvatore has his moments, which I've described in the previous section, but sadly, they range from being vastly to overwhelmingly dwarfed by the rote and tedious writing practices he employs. It doesn't help that in addition to the employment of unimaginative diction, Salvatore writes a lot of long and laborious scenes full of words that serve little more than to fill up space. There is so much telling instead of showing, a problem further compounded by the exhausting amount of poorly-chosen anecdotes which he relates that, despite being a nonstop action book, Boundless is very hard to pick back up after putting it down. And, of course, there's the repetition of the same themes, of the same kind of things happening to the same characters, that certainly doesn't help the predictability.

Bad Descriptions

For every good turn of phrase I mentioned earlier, there exists a score of bad ones. If I were to give examples of all of them, with the other things I'd like to discuss, this article would end up being as long as the novel itself, so I'll simply point out the most cringe-worthy ones. 

The metaphor that takes the cake for the worst of the book is, "The horde had come, and now it pounced upon them misshapen humanoid forms, the wretched lesser demons known as manes, shambling out of the brush like an army of humans risen from the dead." Basically, what is happening here is that Salvatore pretty much wrote, "those demons came shambling out like zombies". It doesn't matter how much one dresses up a turd, the most one gets from the effort is a fancier-looking but just as stinky piece of excrement. Furthermore, the dressings that Salvatore uses in this example are flimsy and unsatisfactory in substance, with the vague adjective "wretched" that's as descriptive here as his customary usages of "magnificent"/"fine" and the tedious repetition in "humanoid" and "human". Additionally, it begs the question of why Salvatore specified an army of humans in a world in which the undead of all races would shamble, or, better yet, why not simply say "zombie", for a zombie is a prevalent and known theme in both the Realms and our world. It would've been one of the few ways Salvatore uses a shared concept without incurring a world break like he normally does. 

A close second in the diction mediocrity contest is, "as if Yvonnel's breath, blowing them out, was that of a magical dragon, one designed specifically against the life force of a demon." Why a "magical dragon"? Are there non-magical dragons that breathe magic? Not that there exists a type of dragon in Forgotten Realms lore with a breath weapon that is specifically designed against the life force of a demon. However, as is par for his course, to counteract lore not agreeing with his lazy constructions, Salvatore doesn't bother to research an appropriate in-universe analogy. He completely invents one but doesn't actually develop it, not that doing so would be appropriate in this context, but the creation of it is wholly unnecessary for the sake of a poor analogy. 

Another awful passage is, "with horrid creatures -- half drow and half spider -- all around the drow women and filtering back through the many shadows of the forest. Scores of these horrid mutants milled about..." It's bad enough to use the adjective "horrid" in an empty and vague way, but to do it twice in quick succession makes it seem like Salvatore doesn't know how to describe driders. By itself, a half-drow half-spider creature isn't inherently abominable. There's an increasingly large number of art pieces featuring dark elf arachnid centaurs, with beautiful humanoid faces and torsos attached to streamlined spider bodies that would even give arachnaphobes pause. What makes driders menacing, which Salvatore has described himself in the past, is that they're not these romanticized images of spider centaurs. Their humanoid torsos, rather than looking like they should belong to supermodels, are bloated and misshapen such that they're more reminiscent of the flesh beasts of nightmares. They have vicious mandibles protruding from their cheeks, sometimes multiple insectoid eyes, making their faces look more decidedly non-elven even with pointed ears. Admittedly, the physical appearance of driders has fluctuated through the D&D editions, but it's as though Salvatore couldn't be bothered to look up what their current iteration is. Maybe he did try and couldn't find a definitive answer, in which case he could've approached the drider's description in a more evocative way, for example by describing how the tips of their arachnid legs were sharp like swords digging into the earth, or perhaps by mentioning their aura of menace as they regarded the dwarves whom they towered over with hungry anticipation, as though the shorter folk were their cocooned victims waiting to be devoured. Or, even referencing how the driders came to be, the excruciating transformation process and fall out of favor with their goddess, both of which would've rendered them at least slightly unhinged. 

Some descriptions consist of fewer words, but are just as bad. For instance, Jarlaxle's bracers are at one point described as "magical wrist pouch". This evokes an imagery of literal pouches hanging from around his wrists, dangling like a pair of testicles in the wind, testicles that shoot out magical daggers into Jarlaxle's hands. Another similar example doesn't contain an analogy but is just as bad is, "a smallish man dressed in finery worthy of a noble house. His face was clean-shaven, his hair cut short and neatly trimmed." This description is so ambiguous and features adjectives that have been applied so frequently to other characters that it could have easily been Artemis Entreri, except it is someone quite different (Kimmuriel Oblodra). Putting aside how jarring it is to use "man" to describe male drow, there's a world break here in that drow shouldn't need to be clean-shaven, as they can't really grow facial hair, but at least there's the nice detail that Kimmuriel is apparently short-haired, contrary to what many assume of him to have long hair. Nonetheless, what happened to the usage of the word "short"? Furthermore, why not just state a height for Kimmuriel and put it into his character bible? To be fair, I've speculated that Salvatore doesn't use character bibles, but it's never too late to start. 

Salvatorisms

Boundless sees a return of what I've dubbed “Salvatorisms”, which are clichés and poor sentence structures that Salvatore abuses frequently. In Boundless, there's more than just those Salvatorisms dragging the narrative down. It's disappointing to see a professional author, especially one who'd been working in the field for over three decades, fail to follow a rule taught to amateur writers. Making the New York Times' Bestsellers' list does not make the usage of clichés, such as "merry band of misfits", acceptable. Especially considering how it's not even appropriate in the context that it's used for, namely, describing Bregan D'aerthe. Even though it's a priestess of Lolth who is considering the mercenary band this way, it's so incredibly unlikely that she'd think they were jolly, which the meaning of that cliché specifically includes. 

In Boundless, we also see a return of the “how [character] [action]ed!” sentence construction, after a refreshingly complete lack of any in Timeless. This is one of Salvatore's favorite ways to tell and not show, for stating how a certain thing performs a certain feat doesn't, ironically, actually ever convey how that thing is done. There's a new overused Salvatorism to add to his cliché stable, namely, the “up went”, “down went”, and other similar ways to open a sentence. There's nothing wrong with these kinds of phrases when used sparingly and with variety. As it is, the flavor of the text is quite intolerable, seasoned as it is with an excess of one type of additive. By the same token, in a fight scene between Arathis Hune and Zaknafein, Zaknafein's superior prowess is indicated by the sentence, "Except Zaknafein wasn't there". This sort of device can be effective to convey surprise and the unexpected, again, when used sparingly, but unfortunately, it is yet another one of Salvatore's favorite writing practices. The sentence is hardly even a proper sentence, but is used as its own paragraph.

The telling and not showing approach in Boundless extends beyond the diction. On numerous occasions, it's almost as if Salvatore couldn't be bothered to actually demonstrate how something is true, but instead, just tells us that it's the way it is. One way that he does this is through the usage of rhetorical questions, for instance, "Could anything be more invasive and traumatizing than having your body stolen from your control and turned against you?" I'm not sure if any of his readers can actually answer that question from personal experience. It's almost as though Salvatore did that purposely to minimize the possibility of someone realizing that different strokes exist for different folks and that the most traumatizing scenario for one person could be very different from that of another person. That aside however, a question like this leaves little room for imagination, and is even a bit bullying, for it corners the readers into having to answer "no" even while the scenario painted prior to it was not powerful enough to solidify that impression. 

Another way that Salvatore tells rather than shows is to use empty comparisons that lack a frame of reference. For instance, the reader is to understand Athrogate's strength and resolve through, "A lesser fighter would have fallen away in terror. A less sturdy person would have simply melted before the reeking horror." The problem with these statements is that they don't serve any purpose. They state the obvious, and are a poor attempt at being evocative. They have the same effect as simply stating that Athrogate stood his ground and didn't falter, except being more verbose and less effective. 

It's not just word usage that's repetitive. Boundless sees a continuation of the theme of having the same sort of things happen to the same characters. It's as though each character is a designated target for certain motifs, with those motifs not being applicable to other characters. For instance, Entreri appears to be the go-to target for torture, and after being made the one with the repeated childhood sexual assault, the sexual victimization in Menzoberranzan, the victim of rape by a succubus in Neverwinter and the over seven decades of enslavement, I'm getting very sick of seeing him the victim of yet another long-term grueling experience. Meanwhile, Drizzt is as holier-than-thou and full of sanctimony as he was in Timeless, and it's not a flattering look for him. I'm not sure if Salvatore thinks it is, but it isn't so much character consistency as stubborn obnoxiousness. In Drizzt's journal entry, he writes, "I fear that Zaknafein's transformation will not come in time to earn friendship, even familial love, from Catti-brie or from our child, and in that instance, it will not be in time to earn the love of Drizzt Do'Urden." Drizzt then goes on to state, "But he is my family by blood, and she is my family by choice. I have come to learn that the latter is a stronger bond." While the message that's attempted to be conveyed here is a very important one, the validity of it is harmed by the context. It's very unfair for Zaknafein to be presented as though he were more akin to the other Do'Urdens instead of the unconditionally loving father who didn't hesitate to put himself in harm's way, including dying in excruciating and humiliating ways so that his son could have a chance at freedom. This is yet another scenario in which Salvatore creates unnecessary drama while ignoring facets of his story that have genuine dramatic potential. Zaknafein is not the type of character with whom Drizzt should have to choose between family by blood and family by choice, as he's already shown that Zaknafein is trying his best to adapt to the new world. It is true that there are few opportunities for Drizzt to flaunt his moral beacon in Boundless, but there's nothing wrong with that, and should've just been left as it is, but it's as though Salvatore can't write a Drizzt novel without Drizzt having to be sanctimonious and preachy. It was wholly unnecessary to villainize a non-villainous character to repeat some of the same old tired writing practices. 

Also in the category of repetitive and tired themes, albeit one that doesn't further butcher the characters, is the catching of projectiles in one's cloak. This is a phenomenon that happens so frequently in the Drizzt books that had a reader no knowledge of the purpose of cloaks, they might think that their main purpose is to act as an anti-missile system. Cloaks originally became common because they protected the wearer from inclement weather while allowing access to the wearer's worn possessions. In D&D and other games, it became an additional equipment slot and as such, gained an practical value as well. A cloak without enhancing properties would actually serve as a detriment in a fight, acting as a loose and difficult to control extension of one's body that can be easily grabbed by the opponent, something that's accurately made a point of in The Incredibles. I suppose that there could exist a magical item like a Cloak of Missile Catching, but this isn't what any of Salvatore's characters ever wear. It's difficult to give Salvatore points for coming up with a creative use for what's basically an aesthetic item because it's just so impractical and unrealistic. It doesn't help that he repeats this motif so much that it approaches ego-stroking levels.

The second most major contributing factor to Boundless' tediousness is the obscenely large amount of recollections strewn throughout the book, making them overall more unsightly than the plastic polluting our modern day oceans. In the scenes set during the current timeline, almost at every turn we're given a history of what so-and-so is, or who so-and-so have associations with. These reviews, although brief, make up for their concision with their frequency. I can understand why Salvatore does this, for Timeless wasn't as standalone as he'd hoped, but his attempted method to rectify this fact in Boundless is more distracting than enlightening. Especially considering that much of the reviewed content is along the lines of, "Drizzt, trained in the ways of the monk by Grandmaster Kane", ergo, telling us how awesome Salvatore's protagonists are rather than shedding light into the significant events that shaped what is happening in the current book. When a significant event is mentioned, it is done so in such a cursory way that all a new reader would know is that something happened in the past that relates to what is happening presently, but otherwise it's like explaining different colors to someone who's never had vision before. For instance, "this was a trick Kimmuriel had used before, and very recently with Drizzt in Menzoberranzan, creating a telekinetic barrier that absorbed the power of every strike, magical or physical, holding it in stasis, ready for the magically armored person to release it back." This recap does manage to explain the relevant mechanic, however it also alludes to a very significant event, yet it's unclear what the purpose of it doing so is. The reference to what Drizzt did in Menzoberranzan doesn't say enough to allow anyone who hasn't read Hero to understand, but someone who's read Hero should remember the details of the climax of the book. So much of what Boundless presents is like this, retreads that make the novel tedious to read for those who have been reading, and probably only serve to further confuse those who haven't. Who is Salvatore writing for, then? Those who continue to throw money his way but never pay enough attention to what happens in his books to remember the climaxes? Are these the kinds of people that any author should point to as "proof" of their literary excellence?

Laborious "Action"

The one aspect that drives most of Boundless' tediousness is the sheer amount of long and boring action sequences that are wordy and not much of anything else. Salvatore's action scenes are more reminiscent of IKEA furniture assembly instructions than descriptive imagery, except that IKEA instructions are actually visual enough for one to use in constructing a pragmatic (and sturdy) physical object. Salvatore's action scenes are reminiscent of the type of smut in fanfiction that gives fanfiction a bad name, namely, cut and dried descriptions that are more like making a grocery list than painting a picture. At the very least, Salvatore's action scenes are not too anatomically ridiculous (yet), which makes them slightly better than the kind of fanfiction referenced. 

An example of a grocery list action scene is as follows:

There's so much going wrong in this passage. The inconsistent specificity of each element makes the whole feel like an incongruous collection of parts. Jarlaxle hooking his fingers on a jag in the stone is clear enough, as is flipping over, and rolling his feet can be understood even if vague, but how all of that ties together is as clear as a chunk of obsidian. How Jarlaxle pulled himself around the base of a mound isn't articulated, other than that he did it while keeping his momentum, which is superfluous because any acrobatic maneuver would keep its momentum because momentum is what makes those maneuvers possible. It's like the only basic physics concept that Salvatore understands is gravity, because "he fell with gravity" is one of the few things he doesn't spell out in his action scenes. In any case, specifics like if Jarlaxle went left or right aren't what's needed, but rather, how about some evocative imagery like, "he snapped like a whip around the sharp turn"? I'm not saying that's the correct analogy to use, I honestly don't know, because I have no idea what's supposed to be going on in this passage. The same is true of what's said of Zaknafein, which while a bit better, is still painfully dry. Some of the stuff doesn't make sense, for instance, how did Zaknafein leap on the wide base of the stalagmite? The base of a stalagmite is that which the stone formation grows out of, inside the rock itself, does Salvatore mean that Zaknafein propelled himself off of the side of the stalagmite near its base? The rest of the sequence, it's unclear what Zaknafein is flipping over and running along. Is it still the same stalagmite, or a different stalagmite? All of that is just words words words, except, of course, the one thing that's clear enough: that Drizzt is awesome and so is his dad.

Another grocery list action scene is, "A glance left, a glance right, and off he sprinted, up the side of a stalagmite mound, leaping, spinning, somersaulting, to hit the ground in perfect balance and at a full run." What this scene brings to mind is more along the lines of a Driver's Ed course followed by the Sky Dancer toy from the 90s rather than the agile moves of an acrobat. Again, an excess number of words are used to little effect, and all that's conveyed is, "Zaknafein is awesome". I almost feel like he should be clad in skin-tight black leather and be wearing high-tech sunglasses.

Yet another example of writing that only conveys how awesome Salvatore's characters are is, "the barbarian came to realize that this foe was far more akin to Drizzt or Entreri than to what he'd expect from a pampered Waterdhavian lord. The man's sword worked in a blur, every movement sending it at Wulfgar in a different angle, sometimes a slash, sometimes a stab, sometimes a punch from the hilt." The first sentence in this passage, although not describing any action, tells us a lot more about Wulfgar's opponent than the second sentence, which does actively describe the man's actions, even to a new reader whom wouldn't know about Entreri's history and what makes him what he is. Furthermore, there's a stuttered nature to the second sentence, with the "blur" description disagreeing with the choppy rhythm of the specified attacks. Rather than a blur, the noble's attacks feel more like a predictable pattern of programmed thrusts from an automated training dummy. 

Boundless wouldn't be the first Salvatore book in which I'd wondered if he'd confused himself with his writing. One example of what leads me to think so from this novel is:

What is even going on here? Did Salvatore switch Zaknafein and Jarlaxle's names by accident, intending for Zaknafein to be the one caught by surprise? Zaknafein's "don't wait for us!" suggests that he knows what's going on and has some level of confidence in the circumstances, yet as is demonstrated later in the passage, this is not the case. Indeed, later in the sequence (not shown), Jarlaxle is the one in control, deploying a back-up plan to guarantee their safety amidst the chaos. Yet, it's unlikely for Jarlaxle to scream, and Zaknafein to gasp, so perhaps Salvatore meant what he wrote. It's all too convoluted to tell, however. Further, while its a trifle nit-picky, wouldn't the command to "Let 'em fly, boys!" come before the quarrels were discharged? I mean, these are quarrels that do make things like stalactites explode, both powerfully AND beautifully, but dwarves have a lot of discipline.

Perhaps the most tedious action sequences are Zaknafein's extensive training montages, like the one in chapter four. It takes up literally forty percent of the chapter and proceeds in excruciatingly dry detail. The entirety of it is too long to quote here, but there are a lot of statements like, "hands across his belly to grab the hilts of his swords at his hips, right forearm over left", "he turned his right wrist as that sword came across bringing it vertical in its sweep, then shortening the cut, while the left went across perfectly horizontally, with full follow-through and even a step with the left foot in that direction", "he went to a series of same-hand, same-hip draws, where he brought forth the sword on his left hip with his left hand, right hand for the right", and so on. It's like Salvatore is writing The Dummy's Guide to Drow Swordfighting, as these sentences are more like step by step guide points than flowing combat moves. It's actually worse than that, because more than likely, these moves are more theatrical than actually practical, such that anyone who followed such a guide would indeed be a dummy, and quite a dead one at that if they expected to survive in drow society like that. And there's just so much of it, such that it begs the question of if Salvatore had a word count quota that he had to fill.

Finally, after a refreshing break away from it in Timeless, the standard Salvatore C-rated Hollywood stop motion fight scenes are back. Speaking to many members of the SCA and historical combat re-enacters and fencers, including ones who have read Salvatore's books, have taught me that most of the combat scenes, specifically concerning the usage of swords, are totally wrong. A consensus among the actual martial artists is that there's a lot of slashing when there should be stabbing, and the way that the characters conduct themselves in combat is more akin to sports than martial arts, being particularly evocative of hockey. It isn't surprising that Salvatore's inspiration comes from hockey, that is what he knows after all (more than swordsmanship and D&D anyway), but it seems that rather than improving his knowledge with research, he supplements it with popular themes in movies. Something like, "slowly they closed, though, until they were but a few strides away, when both, as if some silent understanding had passed between them, leaped into the air and roared" feels more like a transcription from a live action sequence, for in reality no purpose is served for two combatants to leap at each other roaring. It's a waste of energy, especially as the two have been aware of each other's prowess for a while and are not easily intimidated. If this scene was something that we were watching rather than reading, the sound effects might enhance the the drama, and while imagined sound effects can do the same for a written scene, something as bland as simply "roaring", just makes the whole scene banal.

[shimmershae]

The Quiet Spaces (a Walking Dead One Shot, Caryl + Gleggie)

Because I need some happy, and this right here?  Is the kind of happy I wish this soul-crushing show would allow us to have from time to time. 

AU from that moment Glenn appealed to Daryl's better senses and tried to stop him from going after Dwight.  He listens and things turn out differently, especially on one special day. 

Feel free to join me in my happy little bubble of denial right here. 

Mistakes are all mine. 

   “Hey, Man.  Can you not?” 

  Daryl paused long enough in his relentless pacing to look in his companion’s direction.  Bringing his thumbnail to his mouth, he soon resumed the nervous movement, his strides stuttering here and there with each stifled scream, each pained grunt that reached their ears. 

  “That,” Glenn blew out an anxious breath.  Pushing up from his squatted position outside of the Hilltop leader’s bedroom, he groaned, pushed his fingers through his air.  “That’s starting to get annoying.  Please stop.” 

  Daryl honored the request, stopping right in place.  His grimy fingers started to fidget with the fancy curtains that shaded the high windows, twisting them round and round before letting them go.  When Glenn sighed, he stopped that, too, gripping the window sill and staring out at the blue sky day, the various members of the small community milling about like nothing was out of the ordinary, and maybe it weren’t.  To them. 

  “I don’t get it.” 

  “Don’t get what?”  The question was more gravel-laced than usual, but Glenn didn’t pay it no mind, and Daryl was grateful. 

  Glenn joined him at the window, his worried eyes brightening upon sight of Enid in the distance, and he spared Daryl a sideways glance.  “That’s my wife in there with Dr. Carson.  Not yours.  Well, yours too, kind of, but you know what I mean.” 

  Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t.  Either way Daryl wasn’t sure. 

  “I’m supposed to be the worried one." 

  “You ain’t?”  Glenn grinned at him then, and he looked so much like the boy he’d first met at the Quarry, the boy that had burned away at the Farm that Daryl felt something in himself ease. 

  “Scared shitless.  But we’re still here.  After everything, you know.” 

  “Could have been different.” 

  “Could have,” Glenn agreed.  “If you hadn’t listened to me, come back to Alexandria…” 

  “Stopped me from leaving my home.” 

  They turned at the sound of the familiar voice, the healthy wail that echoed then in the grand old house, and Carol smiled at them both. 

  “Maggie?”

  “Why don’t you go see for yourself?  Go give that little boy of yours a kiss for me?” 

  Joy seemed to light Glenn up from the inside out, and the grin from earlier paled in comparison to the one that bloomed in wake of the welcome news.  Daryl found himself breathing deeper and more even than he had since this whole thing started, and his lips curled in his own version of a smile.   

  “A son.  Hear that, Daryl?” 

  Carol laughed at the clumsy, excited kiss he pressed to her temple, the way he dashed into that bedroom like a kid being granted permission to open his Christmas presents, and her tired blue eyes found him, as they always had.  “A beautiful, healthy little boy.” 

  Daryl held out his hand.  “Yeah?” 

  “Yeah.”  She took his hand, laced their fingers together, leaned into him when he brought their joined hands to his mouth.  His heart thumped steadily beneath her ear, a comfort she’d come to relish in the last few months, and his strong arm came around her, supporting her much like he had when all had seemed lost, when she had foolishly thought loving her family, loving him wasn’t worth the cost.  She’d been so wrong, but he hadn’t told her so.  He’d shown her, just by being there.  Without judgment, without expectation.  Simply being there and helping her put the pieces of her broken heart back together in her own time, healing and learning to really live.

  “You okay?” 

  Her hand cradled his jaw, and her kiss found the corner of his concerned mouth before she pulled back to smile at him, teary and bright and full of love.  “Better than okay.” 

  “You don’t gotta be.” 

  “I’m perfect.  And so is that little boy in there.”     

  “A boy,” Daryl repeated in wonder.  “The old man would be proud.” 

  “So would Beth.” 

  “She would.” 

  The moment of reflection stretched between them, filled the quiet spaces, but it wasn’t one of sadness.  Not anymore.  Never.  Because they had lived and they had loved, and all that pain was filled with beauty, too, and it’d taken months for her to get there, but Carol didn’t regret a single moment.  Daryl was her home, her light in the dark, and she was his.  Squeezing his hand, she pressed another kiss, lingering and light, to his lips.  “C’mon, Pookie.  Let me introduce you two.” 

[sarahemorin]

One of the joys of getting back into writing circles in the past four years has been getting to know so many other talented writers. In 2015, right after Waking Beauty was published, I ran an interview with W.B. Cornwell and A.N. Williams, who were also releasing their first book. Although Ben and Millie are still in their twenties, they have racked up the publication credits in the past three years. Already their publications include A Chill in the Air and The Shadows are Alive (under pen name Storm Sandlin), and A Day at Aunt Carrie’s. They compiled and edited Heart of Hoosierland: A Collection of Elwood Poetry. They were also contributors to Poets of Madison County and Paw Prints in Verse.

  Their newest release, Awaiting Dawn: The Story of Avalene, came out earlier this summer. I sat down with the pair at Logan Street Sanctuary in Noblesville to ask them about their latest endeavor. Ben is an outgoing and consistently upbeat young man. He’s full of energy and grateful to swap ideas with other writers. Millie is quieter at first, but focused, observant, and unafraid to interject insightful comments. Together the pair are ambitious, optimistic, and incredibly productive. Seeing the pair interact smoothly at the interview gave me an inkling of how they function as cowriters. At times they were so in sync they finished each other’s sentences.

Sarah E.: I love talking to local authors. What is your connection to Central Indiana?

Ben: Our great-great-great-grandmother was born here a month before Indiana became a state in December 1816. Our family were pioneers of the state, county, and Elwood, the city where we now reside.

Sarah E.: So you two share not only a literary relationship, but another type of relationship.

Millie: Yes, we’re first cousins and best friends.

Sarah E.: And that’s after surviving several books, a real test of friendship! What kind of literary works do you write?

Millie: All kinds. Under the pen name Storm Sandlin we write horror. Awaiting Dawn: The Story of Avalene is our first YA novel. We also write historical fiction and fantasy, poetry and prose.

Ben: We have separate projects as well. But yeah, we’re pretty eclectic. Imagine two collections of Edgar-Allen-Poe-inspired stories beside our children’s book.

Sarah E.: Tell me about the plot of Awaiting Dawn.

Ben: The story is set in a medieval time frame. A young princess’s family is murdered and she’s taken captive by the new king. He takes up residency in her home and gives her to his son. The whole book is about her trying to survive at her former house. It’s her palace, but it’s no longer her family. She’s no longer safe there. She’s in an abusive marriage and has a horrible father-in-law. It’s very much a story of survival.

Sarah E.: It’s like a crossover piece, fantasy and thriller.

Ben: It’s hard for people to understand how someone could be a princess and a slave at the same time.

Sarah E.: So politics are what bind her?

Ben: Yeah, if she left it would mean her life.

Sarah E.: That’s intriguing. Millie, who is your favorite character?

Millie: Starla. She is a servant in the place and becomes the only friend and companion that Avalene has. She’s a light in her life.

Sarah E.: Was her development your idea?

Millie: We created Starla together, but—

Ben: She was yours.

Millie: (Laughs.) She was my character. We planned out all the relationships between characters and plot points. And then we each took ones that were important to us and wrote the scenes.

Ben: We divide it as homework basically. You have five chapters this week. You have Avalene and her best friend. I have her and the love interest. And then we write and compare and edit together.

Sarah E.: Do you think an outside reader is able to tell who wrote what?

Ben: I don’t think so because sometimes it’s hard for us.

Millie: Yeah. I don’t remember which part we wrote.

Ben: It’s pretty fluid.

Sarah E.: That’s remarkable. But then your imaginative brains have been functioning side by side for a while.

Millie: Since we were little, we created games to play together and worlds and stories.

Ben: One thing that is bizarre is for first cousins—you really only hear about it with twins—we share nightmares.

Sarah E.: WOAH! That’s kind of cool. Not that I really wish nightmares on you.

Ben: Well, that’s the Storm Sandlin stuff.

Sarah E.: Right right. I can see the influence of the Storm Sandlin genre on this fantasy novel now that you’ve described it. It’s not as far away from your original genre as I thought.

Ben: Yeah, it’s not slasher. There’s nothing supernatural. But there is mental abuse, like you might see in a realistic horror story. It’s scary in a different way. Avalene is battered.

Sarah E.: Why do you choose to write those two genres?

Ben: (Laughs.) I guess we’re sick people!

Sarah E.: I don’t believe that.

Mille: I would say with Awaiting Dawn it’s a lot easier to answer that question. It’s because of the continued hope in the darkness, trying to fight back to the light.

Sarah E.: See, that was a good answer! When you are a reader, what genre are you pulled most to?

Ben: Historical fiction. My favorite author is Gene Stratton Porter. The first book I ever read of hers was A Girl of the Limberlost, published in 1909. That’s the birth year of three of my great-grandparents.

Sarah E.: That was my grandmother’s favorite author. She had collections of moths and butterflies pinned in boxes. And Millie, what about you?

Millie: I am typically drawn to very whimsical fantasy, anything that has that magical element. It started with Narnia.

Sarah E.: Fascinating that you, Ben, write historical fiction, and you, Millie, like whimsical fantasy, but that’s not what you write.

Ben: Well, I am a genealogist. I love anything that puts you into that time frame.

Sarah E.: It is true that the study of history ties in well to the world-building you do in fantasy. You have to invent a kingdom and which rules you’re following and which rules you’re changing. That’s sort of like being a historian. I say that because I’m a Conner Prairie girl.

Ben: Right. I think that’s cool you that.

Sarah E.: It’s pretty fun! So when I interviewed you two in 2015, you mentioned your inspiration was Alfred Hitchcock, Tim Burton, classical music, and nursery rhymes. Has that changed?

Ben: Actually L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables influenced Avalene.

Sarah E.: What’s the connection?

Ben: Anne’s not abused, but she’s alone in the world until the Cuthberts take her in. Her time with the family before is not good. It’s a story of survival. It’s incredible to see how Lucy Montgomery develops her characters. It helped me become a better writer. It’s really funny to think the process of how Anne of Green Gables came to be is similar to how Avalene came to be, which I didn’t find out til after it was published.

Sarah E.: Tell me more about that.

Ben: Anne of Green Gables started as a short story. Lucy was going to send it in to get published in a magazine and something told her, no, save it. Years later she took it out and turned it into a huge series. Well, Avalene started off as a three-part short story. When we first wrote it, it was vastly different.

Millie: That was five years ago.

Ben: We posted it on Facebook.

Millie: And on our blog.

Ben: I was reading it and said, “Millie, we need to bring new life to this.” So we removed it from cyberspace and edited what was maybe 4000-5000 words into a novel. It took—how many months?

Millie: We started last November.

Sarah E.: It just came out on Amazon June 5th. That’s fast!

Ben: We had a really great editor who is also an Indiana author named Samantha Boothroyd.

Sarah E.: I hear she’s nice!

(Note: At this point we all glanced at Samantha Boothroyd, who just so happened to be in the room and just so happens to be Ben’s girlfriend.)

Ben: She is! I’m fond of her.

Samantha: I can hear you, and for the record when I read it I didn’t know who wrote what.

Sarah E.: That’s amazing you were that smooth in your transitions.

Ben: A lot of people ask us, “How do you work with someone?” I couldn’t do it with everybody.  Millie and I can even cowrite a poem, where every single word matters, and be happy with it. That’s a really rare thing.

Sarah E.: You two are a really fascinating case study. Speaking about Anne of Green Gables, you have seen Anne with an E?

Ben: I have not.

Sarah E.: You might be interested because it deals much more with her past and that she was essentially a neglected child. It’s a much more psychological treatment than she’s traditionally given.

Ben: I feel like I would betraying Megan Follows, who did the original version. But I do want to see it.

Sarah E.: Here’s a quote from you two a few years ago: “With a writing partner, there’s no such thing as writer’s block.” Do you still find that to be true?

Mille: Yes.

Sarah E.: Do you ever have an artistic disagreement?

Millie: (Laughs.) That’s also a yes.

Ben: At first, if we didn’t like something—

Millie: —we’d just get really quiet. We wouldn’t provide feedback for each other. We were afraid of offending each other. But we sat down one day and had a conversation: if we’re not both completely happy with this, we shouldn’t publish it. And if there’s a different way you see this scene happen or saw this character, explain it. That’s how you know who your characters really need to be.

Ben: A lot of people will at some point work with a cowriter. It’s important when you’re doing that to have a shared mapped-out outline. You know what’s going to happen. If you write 12 chapters, and I’m writing 12 chapters that take place after that, and I discover you killed off a major character…you can’t do that.

Millie: You have to be communicating constantly to write together.

Ben: We get together twice a week for 2-3 hours for writing sessions. At the end of the session we have homework. You work on this scene, I work on that scene, then we get together and edit.

Sarah E.: How did you learn your craft?

Ben: I didn’t start taking writing seriously until high school. Then it was private. I threw a lot of it away. I didn’t see a point in keeping it.  Big mistake. Then when we started working together. I had a story I couldn’t finish, she had a story she couldn’t finish. I said, “You know what would be cool? If your character and my character were friends.” That’s what started our first collaboration. I do believe writing groups are important. We both belong to The Write Idea. I belong to the Last Stanza Poetry Association. Jenny Kalahar, who I know you know, is my literary godmother.

Sarah E.:  That’s a good description of Jenny!

Ben: She’s been more of a blessing than she will ever know. I recently sent her something to proof and she wrote back, “You’re getting better and better.” The joy that came from an adopted mentor telling you that is hard to explain.

Sarah E.: So Millie, how did you learn your craft?

Millie: I don’t remember a time I didn’t write. In elementary school I would start a story and get stuck, and throw it away, and start another story. I did that through middle school. I took two writing classes in high school. One was on poetry, and it almost made me not write poetry.

Sarah E.: Oh no!

Millie: I started to think it was all rules and meter. But then I rediscovered poetry and enjoy having more freedom. I also took a creative writing course and that helped me develop my thoughts into complete stories.

Sarah E.: Upcoming projects?

Ben: We are sending out a submission call soon for an anthology called Under the Cherry Tree: Thirty Great Poets Under Thirty. It’s a nationwide search for poets between the ages of 18 and 29. It’s kind of a hard age. There’s a lot of things for kids, and that’s great, and then you’re twenty and can’t do those anymore. But in your 20s, older poets don’t take you seriously sometimes. To the teenagers we’re old, it the older poets we’re children, and so we’re trying to give a publication for that awkward age group in the literary world. We’ll feature the 30 best poets we can collect.

Millie: We’d like to publish this in April 2019 for National Poetry Month.

Ben: After that we’ll do an anthology for Indiana poets. We’d like to constantly produce works that don’t feature just us. It’s an odd concept to not be working on 3-5 publications.

Sarah E.: Anything else we should know?

Ben: Elwood’s Poetry Month is coming up in October. In 2016 Mayor Todd Jones signed a proclamation we presented him. Elwood has a Poetry month now in remembrance of a poetry day Elwood use to have in 1976, which was started by my grandmother.

Sarah E.: What can folks look forward to this year?

Ben: We are still raising money from Heart of Hoosierland. Every dime raised til November 1 all the money goes to the city—to the library and the food pantry.

Sarah E.: Thank you, this was a fun time. You all fascinate me. Last thing, how can folks get copies of your books?

Ben: All our books are on Amazon. We publish through Create.Space. We also encourage folks to visit our Facebook page or read our pieces on http://goodkin.org/.

          WEBSITE

              Author Interview: W.B. Cornwell and A.N. Williams One of the joys of getting back into writing circles in the past four years has been getting to know so many other talented writers.