#i am very particular about the tolkien men having long hair but when it comes to the girlies i'm like short hair cute though <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[vidumavi]

local bird lady thrilled by valinor biodiversity after spending most of her life in one town

(the short hair is either a fashion choice or a deliberate nod to lúthiens hair cutting shenanigans. your pick)

[venteamocha]

Thanks so much for the IF recs! I'd absolutely take a second post of recommendations for Twine games too if you're willing to share! <3

Of course!!

I... actually like twine games better than cog based ones, in some ways, just because they tend to be fancier and prettier, and I am secretly a ferret in the body of a human and I love shinies. ADHD, baby!

I only actually know of like 12 twine games, so if there are any that anyone who sees this knows of that I didn’t list, feel free to let me know about them! There’s a chance I do know about them and just didn’t put them here, but I would rather hear one I already know of on the off chance that I’ll get a new one dropped in.

That said! Another list of games I really like that is again in no particular order!

They’re all on itch.io by the way! They tend to work better if you download them but most can be run in your browser and most are also mobile friendly so you can play them on your phone! I’ll note which ones are.

Scout: An Apocalypse Story: I love dystopia stories, I dearly wish we had more IF based in this kind of setting. Set in a wasteland that is trying to pull itself together with people trying to find out if other settlements are out there while also trying to, well, stay alive. I gotta say, I played only E’s route for a long, long time, but once I tried the other ones I haven’t really gone back. I still love E, you can pry the childhood friend trope out of my cold dead hands, but wow. Oliver. Wow. That dude has serious UST. And Sabine!! I’ve been forced out of my little “play it the same way every time” rut and I’m not sorry. I very much like that you can choose the intimacy level, as someone who’s ace. Sometimes I like reading the smut, sometimes I don’t. Options! (mobile friendly!)

Bad Ritual: I got it baaaaaaaaaad~ I do though, I love Siruud. I have terrible, terrible taste in men. I mentioned Dracula in the other list, and here there’s an actual demon. This is a game with *sass* and I always love a chance to be sassy. I think part of the reason I resonate so much with this one is because of how jaded retail has made me tbh but that’s another story.  Honestly, if you like dark settings, I recommend you play this one first of all my recommendations. It’s just such a good game and there are so many choices and even the pronoun choices are pretty varied.  It’s just good! (mobile friendly!)

Wayfarer: Another for the fantasy list! I love the worldbuilding in this one, and the character creator is just amazing. There are maps, there’s a codex, seriously if you love reading lore, this is definitely a game for you. This is like if Tolkien made an IF. It’s amazing. I’ve said that a few times but it’s true. In all honesty it might count as one that’s not so romance focused, since it does focus more on plot. If I could just sit down and make an IF, I’d want it to be like this tbh. With a beautiful framework, a well organized space of information for the players to just look at and see stuff about the world, a way to develop and build their own character in a clear cut way, and the game immediately tells you what stats are effected by what choices. I really enjoy it when games try to work in character creation in creative ways, but sometimes I just want to sit down and go, “Okay, my character has red hair, blue eyes, is short, and has a crippling phobia of lizards” and this game lets me do that. Well, except for the lizard part. (Not as mobile friendly as the others but I make it work!)

Love and Friendship: It’s a regency game and I love Pride and Prejudice. What can I say? Something about the massive amount of rules of society just gets me. Propriety! This is a game that has a set gender protagonist, female, and it actually is a bit different from the norm in that it has two female love interests and one male, when most of the time it’s the other way around. So that’s something. You can even have a platonic route with a fourth love interest, who is also male. There really aren’t enough platonic routes, but I understand why that is, since a lot of IF players are looking for romance. (mobile friendly!)

Exiled From Court: Also a bit of the same vibe simply because of how constrained everyone is by rules. Nobility, after all. There are a lot of love interests, and one is the MC’s sister’s husband, which is definitely gonna be scandalous. Will I do it? Will I? Eventually. I do like how you can act like an absolute hellion, well, as far as that goes considering. You can try to be a better person but that’s less fun, lol. (mobile friendly!)

A Tale of Crowns: This is literally one of the very first twine games I ever played. Really! It’s got a lot of wonderful intrigue and the setting is very fun. There aren’t a ton of fantasy middle eastern games, and this game is definitely one reason why we should have more. There’s a great deal of customization, and the love interests’ gender will changed based on your MC’s gender and sexuality combination. I like R & D best, and no that’s not a pun. I think. (mobile friendly!)

For the Crown: This is a different game, I swear, they just both happen to have crown in the title, lol. You get to play as an assassin, which is a great deal of fun. The lore in the game is very nice too. I tend to play with they/them pronouns though, and there were a few pronoun hiccups in the game. Seems to be an issue across all of the games made by this author, but I know how much of a pain variables can be so hopefully those will get squashed soon. There’s an explicit content choice in this one as well, and if you turn it on there is an “equipment” choice, so this is definitely gonna be spicy later on! (mobile friendly, but after each chapter the browser shifts as it auto saves. you just have to tap restore game to keep playing.)

-These games aren’t exactly twine games, but I’m putting them here because they’re visual novels that fit the IF format for the most part and are also on itch.io and I love them and for this post at least I will bend my own rules! They all have gender choice MCs and are nonbinary friendly.-

Perfumare: This game is actually being made into an IF, with the visual novel as a sort of preview of what we’re gonna get there. I literally cannot wait for that to happen, this game is so good as it is, and from what we’ve been told it’s only gonna get better. This game has an excellent world, the characters are all messy in the best ways, and ugh it has hurt me quite a bit, again in the best way.  It’s another one on the dark side of things. The powers in this game are just so fun, I dearly want a game set in this world where we can choose what powers we have! Maybe that will be in the IF, but I have a feeling the answer is no. We’ve been teased that there will be a second game with a different MC who will get to romance the characters we can’t in this one, and that alone is enough to get me to jump as soon as it drops. The love interests aren’t gender variable but there are two male ones and one female. I, a known mess, recommend Laurent for lots of repression and pain. (not mobile friendly, you gotta play on desktop/laptop)

Andromeda Six: I’ve recommended this one to pretty much everyone I know, it is such an excellent game. The cast is a mashup of misfits and makes me miss my Mass Effect crews. I specifically set my pronouns to she/her just so they’d all call me Princess. What can I say, I like it. There’s lots of pain, lots of drama, lots of world building, lots of interesting lore, and there is much breaking of cuties. Much. Can’t wait till we get to the next planet. The author has gone out of their way to say that each love interest is gonna get their own arc and will definitely get their own share of attention, so no matter who you pick you’ll have plenty of time to be with them and watch them shine. (not mobile friendly, gotta play on desktop/laptop)

When the Night Comes: Not only do you get to play a badass hunter but it has multiple poly routes! Multiple! It’s rare when you get one poly in a game, this one has three! You can also choose to romance any of them individually if you so choose. It’s dark fantasy gothic, and I really really like that. (not mobile friendly, gotta play on desktop/laptop)

Errant Kingdom: Made from the same dev as WTNC, this one is set in a more fantasy middle eastern setting. Very pretty, lots of intrigue. You can choose between three set protagonists, who can have three different storylines depending on your choices, which is very nice for replayability. It’s got two poly routes this time, and it works the same as their other game in that you can romance them individually if you’d rather be monogamous. (not mobile friendly, gotta play on desktop/laptop)

[absynthe--minded]

opinions on the recent russingon meta? tbh i love russingon, i love black fingon headcanons, but i do agree that it's a little weird when fingon gets totally sidelined in fics as just Maedhros' Emotional Growth or the Black Nanny. i mean, russingon really lends itself to hurt/comfort, which is fine, but i think ppl sometimes neglect fingon's arc. thoughts as a russingon writer? (no accusations, love your work, but wanted your perspective on other ppls russingon works)

(Wow this got long, lol.

Full disclosure - I haven’t read the recent Russingon meta, or offered any substantial response to it. Quite a lot of people I know have, but I’ve not had the time and my brain hasn’t been cooperating with me to read large chunks of text over the last couple of days. I have opinions on your ask as I’m seeing it now, and that’s what I’ll be responding to. I’m also not black, though I’m not white either - my ethnic group is one that has troubling stereotypes associated with it of caring for white people/acting as sage dispensers of advice/etc, but I can’t speak to the breadth and depth of the black experience when it comes to being a ‘black nanny’ in fiction, and I’m not going to try to.)

So, Fingon being a cardboard cutout/emotional support animal for Maedhros and Fingon being perceived as black by large portions of the fandom are two things that arose completely independently of one another. Fingon being Maedhros’s support animal is a trope as old as Russingon itself, and possibly is as old as the published Silm itself. I’ve read Russingon fics that were almost as old as I am, Russingon fics published last week, Russingon fics that vilified the Nolofinwëans, and Russingon fics from the turn of the 21st century when the Fëanorians were seen as uncomplicated villains. Fingon being a cardboard cutout is ubiquitous through all of them. It doesn’t matter how old the fic is, it’s basically guaranteed.

The reason for this is that Maedhros is far and away the most popular character in the Silmarillion, and his pain and angst and mental strife and trauma are front and center in many writers’ lists of priorities. If it’s not Fingon propping him up, it’s Maglor, or another brother, or an OC - this is a very common genre of Silm fic and it’s not limited to Russingon.

But.

This is my least favorite Russingon trope and it’s the entire reason I’m writing Blessed Hands and why all my Russingon fics are at least majority-Fingon POV. I can’t fucking stand it, and it completely kills my interest in a story. I’m super picky with my Russingon fics because of this trope, and because of its ubiquity, and I’ve talked about it on my blog many times before. For me to love a Russingon fic, it has to be about how they anchor and support one another, and how their mutual and equal investment in their relationship is the foundation of their lives. This trope’s not nearly as common as it used to be, thank Eru, but it’s still around, and I cannot talk enough about how I Hate It, lol. It’s also old enough and omnipresent enough that the majority of fics feature it, and - interestingly - the majority of fics also feature white Fingon.

Alongside this, Black Fingon arose out of a non-Russingon intracommunity discussion among the artists of the Silm fandom, in about 2013. I saw this play out in real time on my dash, and so while I can’t source posts reliably, I can promise this is as accurate as I can make it.

The paradigm shift came as a result of content creators realizing that several of their number weren’t white, and quite a few people in the fandom weren’t white, and yet 100% of art and fics featured white elves with zero real diversity (and a number of very troubling, somewhat stereotypical older illustrations of Men as the only significant examples of people of color in Middle-Earth). There was concern as to why this was being accepted as the norm when there was ample opportunity for representing both one’s own ethnicity and other people of color (and a lot of concern about unexamined racism in white artists who found themselves unable, for various reasons, to picture heroic elves as anything but fair-skinned) and the general consensus was that we had more consistent information from HoME draft to HoME draft about hair color than skin tone, so why were we all picturing our heroes as white?

Fingon in particular was headcanoned as black due to a discovery by a fan (whose URL escapes me, sadly) who I’m certain was black themself. There’s a passage in The Peoples of Middle-Earth describing Fingon as wearing his hair in plaits braided through with gold, and this fan made the comparison to hairstyles worn by IRL black people. The idea was that he was the most uncomplicatedly brave, heroic, and noble person in the Silm, and look, he could be a man of color! There was also a sort of gentleman’s agreement to refrain from making explicit connections beyond that to real human ethnic groups/cultures/races. The logic behind this was that if the generic Eurofantasy aesthetic was kept, white artists would be encouraged to draw diverse elves without concern for cultural appropriation, as well as steering racists away from caricature and the ability to twist a well-meaning effort into a stereotypical attack.

When these ideas first emerged, there was a lot of resistance. Arguments were made that those of us who advocated for diverse elves and specifically black Fingon were discreetly accusing other artists of being racist, or were acting purposefully holier-than-thou, or just wanted to start drama. There were some people who claimed we’d attack anyone who didn’t agree with us that elves were brown. This was an exhausting mess to deal with and it was a major part of my disillusionment with discussing racism in the Tolkien fandom - the majority of voices were reasonable people but the minority was loud and obnoxious. I bring this up to say that diverse elves were genuinely progressive and forward-looking in 2013, even when it was more or less explicitly stated that they had no real ties to existing human races and they had no change to their characters.

Black Fingon, agreed upon outside the Russingon fandom, and Fingon the cardboard cutout, the most reliably present version of Fingon in Russingon fic, sort of ran into one another. No real change was ever made to Finno’s character upon making him black - this would have been seen at the time as unnecessary because his character was just fine as-is, and the whole point was that he could be exactly as he’d been before and be black or brown, that men of color had the exact same range of emotion and depth of character that he did when he was perceived as white. 

The problem is that there hasn’t been much examination of the idea that Fingon being a black man who exists to prop up a white man is uh. Really racist and kind of fraught.

All I have to say really is that this wasn’t a conscious decision by anyone to be racist - the opposite, actually. As I mentioned above I can’t speak for black people, or for other BIPOC, but my opinion is that it’s an unfortunate and unconscious choice that has nothing to do with Fingon’s race and everything to do with the fact that his character has been seriously neglected for decades now. It opens the door to a lot of really frustrating tropes and plotlines that smack fans of color in the face with how bigoted they are, and it’s something that I’m glad is being discussed, if only because I’ve been trying to push for a reevaluation of Fingon’s personality and general role for a long time now (though of course I’m also glad that this is actually getting acknowledged as a harmful thing real people now are at risk of doing).

My solution? Same as ever - “write Fingon like a real person with interests and desires and goals of his own, and treat his family like they matter, and flesh out the world he lives in. Listen to people of color if you’re white, educate yourself regardless, and learn to avoid harmful tropes.” If that becomes the fandom norm? I’ll be a happy Absynthe.

[micahcharlson]

Is It Time to Rethink Swain's Sequels?

This post is in response to a guest post by Peter von Stackelberg on K.M. Weiland’s blog, and what he had to say about creating scene structure (An Intuitive 4-Step Process for Creating Vibrant Scene Structure), as well as the questions it raised for myself and others.

An understanding of Dwight V. Swain’s Scene and Sequel technique is necessary for every writer hoping for success, but if you’re unfamiliar with it then reading Katie’s excellent series on How to Structure Scenes in Your Story should get you up to speed.

This will be my attempt to synthesize Swain’s concepts with what von Stackelberg had to say about creating scene structure, specifically regarding how I feel von Stackelberg’s concepts fits into Swain’s. (It’s entirely possible I’ll find it makes more sense looking at it the other way around—how Swain’s concepts fit into von Stackelberg—though when all’s said and done, I’ve knows about Swain’s work longest.)

When relying on comments left on Weiland’s blog, I’ll give credit to the commenter and note the time/date of their comment.

To begin…

My Initial Thoughts

Here are my initial thoughts before reading any of the comments readers left. That is, my initial thoughts based solely on von Stackelberg’s post.

I believe before implementing von Stackelberg’s four questions under “Scene Structure as a Writing Template”, writers must understand the character’s scene goal.

Once the character’s scene goal has been determined, it’s possible to proceed to those four questions. After they’re used to flesh out the scene, they can be interwoven into Swain’s scene structure. Sequels are another matter entirely.

The resulting merging of the steps looks like this:

Step 1: Identify the POV character’s immediate goal for this new Scene.

Step 2: Determine what the Scene’s Peak action is.

Step 3: Identify what set into motion the Peak action? What is the Initiate element?

Step 4: What is the result of the Peak action? What is the Release?

Step 5: Where did this all happen? When? Who was involved? This is the Establish element.

Step 6: Fill in Orienting information about the setting, timing, or context of the scene which will help the reader understand the where, when, and who of the scene.

Step 7: Fill in additional Details about character’s, settings, or significant objects in the Initiate (or, sparingly, the Release) elements.

Step 8: Add Prolongs, additional actions that prolong the overall action, to create suspense—which heightens dramatic tension—typically in the Initiate sequence (or, rarely, in the Release sequence.)

Step 9: Write the Sequel (Reaction, Dilemma, Decision) as normal, creating the character’s goal for the next scene.

My Subsequent Thoughts (During/After Reading Comments)

Reading through all the comments forced me to reconsider some of what I earlier determined to be true.

In these comments below, any italicized text indicates points I found to be of particular interest.

Based on this comment from Peter Moore (JULY 13, 2020 AT 12:52 PM):

Great post. Thanks for having Peter as a guest. The more us newbies learn about the craft, the better. I have a question though. How do scenes that end with heightened tension fit into this scene structure? For example, chapter ending scenes in action/detective/sci fi/fantasy movies and books where characters are wounded, the scene fades and we don’t know if he/she lives or dies. I’m thinking of Peter Jackson’s movie adaptation of The Return of the King where Frodo is stung by Shelob. He immediately sends us to scenes with other characters. Tolkien handles it more like Peter states, even placing it as one of the last scenes of The Two Tower, and ending the book with ‘Frodo was alive but taken by the Enemy.’

I’ve seen a lot of posts that advise increasing the tension at the end of each chapter as a page turner device instead of releasing the tension. Is that one of the ‘except when it doesn’t’ things that Peter says at the beginning of the post, or am I misunderstanding something?

And this response from pvonstackelberg (JULY 13, 2020 AT 1:58 PM):

In my opinion, the use of cliffhangers needs to be approached with great caution. As a reader or viewer, I absolutely HATE obvious cliffhangers that appear manipulative and intended solely to get me to move on to the next chapter/episode. An example of this kind of thing is when the shot is fired…and then nothing…there is no Release.

From the story flow perspective, this kind of cliffhanger is very disruptive for a couple of reasons:

1) It leaves readers hanging without any sort of resolution to what happened in the scene

2) It disrupts the flow of the story because you then need to have the Release at the beginning of the next chapter/scene or, if there are intervening chapters/scenes, at the beginning of the scene where you return to the part of the storyline where you left off with the cliffhanger. The research (and I tend to be a believer in research) tells us that the sequence of Establish > Initiate > Peak > Release is important for readers/viewers understanding of what happens in a scene.

As a writer, I want my scenes to end in a way that prompts readers to move on to the next chapter.

You can certainly do it by going Release (for previous scene) > Establish > Initiate > Peak. However, as both a writer and a reader, that sequence of elements leaves me feeling unsatisfied. I want some sort of conclusion to the scene.

I think the answer to “Where do you end a chapter?” is not in moving the Release to some other chapter, but to focus on using the Release as a place where you basically let your audience know whether the scene’s main character achieved his/her scene goal. The suspense comes not from withholding information (i.e. the Release), but by adding a tidbit of new information.

For example, your protagonist has achieved (or not achieved) his/her scene goals but…is now in deeper doo-doo because…

This raising and releasing of dramatic tension is a real challenge to pull off. Once you master it, however, you are well on your way to writing some real page-turners.

And this response from Elizabeth L Richards (JULY 22, 2020 AT 11:07 PM):

Your comment about not liking cliffhangers resonated with me. Giving the reader more information to ratchet up the tension is so much more difficult but also more organic/less contrived.

Thinking about why cliffhangers are not fun, I realised that a cliffhanger requires me as the reader to devote part of my attention to maintaining the unresolved scene. Which leaves less of my attention to focus on the next part of the story. And given that humans have limited ability to hold multiple concepts in working memory (4-7 depending on what you read), you are actually Distracting your reader from the next scene. With less attention To focus, they are less invested. And so they wander off – maybe to jump ahead and see how the dangling bit gets resolved or to do something else that caught their limited attention.

But more relevant information, that builds on what the reader already knows, thrusts/carries the reader forward into the next scene with the confidence that their questions are going to be resolved. They are eager to read to the end of the next scene.

I think it’s like going into a restaurant that smells really good, reading a compelling menu, oRedoing something that sounds great…and then waiting too long for the entree to be delivered. Waiting doesn’t increase my pleasure, And it doesn’t make me want to come back.

I must conclude that a scene isn’t finished until the Release has been incorporated. The resulting suspense isn’t built so much from “What happened next?” as it is from the reader asking “How did what happened just affect the character, thereby changing the character’s thinking, plans, and the character’s core being?”

Based on this comment from Jennifer Bobrowicz (JULY 14, 2020 AT 9:40 AM):

Your article helps me better understand how to keep my scenes focused while including important details. This is my first attempt at a novel, so my learning curve has been steep. In a nutshell, the scene’s Peak drives the writing of that scene.

However, I’m confused on how I could use your framework along with the model of scene/sequel KM Weiland explains in her books. Katy’s method has helped immensely with structuring my WIP, but I’d like to know if I can meld the two. So, here are my specific questions.

The Peak Action seems like it could be the Disaster in the Scene (Weiland) and the Outcome [Micah Charlson’s note: I believe this is the Release?] seems like it could apply to the Reaction in the Sequel (Weiland). The Outcome would then go into the next scene or even the next chapter. Your framework has scenes divided into 4 parts, while Katy shows two types of scenes (Scene/Sequel) with each divided into 3 parts. Perhaps, I’m splitting hairs or not fully understanding something. The Scene/Sequel framework (Weiland) seems to work well in establishing goal, conflict, and a mini climax (Disaster in the Scene), and then it (hopefully) keeps the reader wondering how the character will respond in the next scene/chapter.

So, can the two methods be melded together? In your opinion, is ending with the Peak and picking up with the Outcome a mistake? Do I understand correctly that the scene should be wrapped up (no cliffhangers) with the Outcome, then a new question should be raised to keep the reader going?

Thanks for this article. This website has been so helpful to me and given me a boost of confidence to begin. Hopefully, this makes sense.

And this partial response from pvonstackelberg ( JULY 14, 2020 AT 1:51 PM):

…

These two scenes from “All the President’s Men” — https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gn3MSQogVeY — for a great example of how to use the Establish > Initiate > Peak > Release structure. As well, these two scenes are an excellent example of how to do the 1-2 punch of Scene & Sequel that Katie talks about.

The terminology of “Scene” and “Sequel” can, I think, be somewhat misleading because it makes it appear that there is one of each. In fact, I think as Katie has pointed out, both the “Scene” and “Sequel” are scenes as we would normally define them — they have their own set of characters interacting in a well defined time and space.

Both the initial scene and the one that follows should be developed using the E.I.P.R. structure. In the clip from All the President’s Men, these phases are pretty clear in the first scene but a little more subtle in the second scene but also follows the E.I.P.R. structure.

I’ll admit this twists my thinking a bit.

To explain, I’ll use the following definitions of Scenes and Sequels as I’ve always understood them:

A Scene is a scene in which the character attempts to achieve an immediate goal—this attempt being one type of action in the cycle of “Goal, Conflict, Disaster”, though I prefer the terminology of “Goal, Conflict, Outcome”—in the service of achieving the overall story goal, whatever that may be. I think I’d say most of the time, if not always, Scenes provide the external action, or the plot. (But it is early as I write this, “early” herein defined as “I haven’t had nearly enough coffee yet.” Still, I’d bet I’m correct, keeping in mind I did say “most of the time.”)

A Sequel is a scene in which the character processes the Scene’s Outcome (good or bad)—this processing itself being simply another type of action, in the pattern of “Reaction, Dilemma, Decision” (leading to the next Scene’s Goal.) So a Sequel, it could be said, is just a scene with a different type of goal than the goal of a Scene:

The goal of a Sequel could be stated as “to process the previous Scene’s Outcome, weighing the pros and cons of each option going forward, and considering all the benefits and consequences inherent in each possible action, in order to determine the best course of action for continuing to pursue the overall story goal.” This processing of the Outcome is, in a Sequel, known as the Reaction. (This is a kind of cost-benefit analysis (CBA) of the contemplated actions for the next Scene.)

This pursuit of the Sequel’s goal—the actual performance of the CBA if you will—is the Sequel’s version of the Scene’s Conflict, which in a Sequel is called the Dilemma, an internal conflict.

This internal conflict, this CBA (even if a team effort, with much back and forth dialogue and apparent plot action) must lead the character—alone, in essence—to make a Decision (the Sequel’s version of the Scene’s Outcome) he or she will commit to—if only in the short term. This commitment to the Decision will always be initially an internal act, even if expressed explicitly after the Decision has been made. (You gotta decide before you can tell anyone what you’ve decided, right?)

Now, before I make my controversial suggestion here, let it be known that I still believe Dwight Swain was a genius and I’ll highly revere all that he’s taught all of us. That said, if a Sequel is simply another type of Scene, and should be developed no differently than a Scene employing the overlying mesh of E.I.P.R., then perhaps it’s time to scrap the idea of a Sequel completely. Because, in reality, a Sequel could also be viewed as having these parts:

Goal (react to the Scene’s Disaster and determine the next course of action—i.e., the next Scene’s Goal)

Conflict (struggle within—i.e., an internal conflict—with the pros and cons alternative courses of action and the consequences of each; literally, a Dilemma)

Outcome (whereby a decision is reached and the next Scene’s Goal is established)

So, it might be helpful (to some of us) to forgo any thought of writing Sequels altogether, and instead think of writing internal Scenes in their place.

Probably the same end result, but the change in our own internal thought processes might point our minds in different directions, and unlock other possibilities for our stories.

Another possibility is when, while reviewing previous work writing in the Scene/Sequel format, making the attempt at looking at these Sequels through this different lens.

So, finally, bringing all this back to von Stackelberg and this excellent post, each scene—Scene or Sequel—will end with a Outcome, which will require the Release element be incorporated into the Scene (external/“Scene”, or internal/“Sequel”.) Deleting Step 9 from the merging that resulted, the steps look like this:

Step 1: Identify the character’s immediate goal for this new Scene

External: What action has the character decided upon after the last internal scene.

Internal: How did the previous scenes Outcome affect the character as he or she begins to come to a decision what to do next?

Step 2: Determine what the Scene’s Peak action is.

Step 3: Identify what set into motion the Peak action? What is the Initiate element?

Step 4: What is the result of the Peak action? What is the Release?

Step 5: Where did this all happen? When? Who was involved? This is the Establish element.

Step 6: Fill in Orienting information about the setting, timing, or context of the scene which will help the reader understand the where, when, and who of the scene.

Step 7: Fill in additional Details about character’s, settings, or significant objects in the Initiate (or, sparingly, the Release) elements.

Step 8: Add Prolongs, additional actions that prolong the overall action, to create suspense—which heightens dramatic tension—typically in the Initiate sequence (or, rarely, in the Release Peak sequence.)

[dawnfelagund]

Caranthir the Slandered: Narrative Bias, Cross-Cultural Alliances, and Fëanor’s Angriest Son

In recent weeks, Caranthir's characterization in The Silmarillion has come up a couple of times and led me to rant about how Caranthir's description in The Silmarillion is inconsistent with how we actually see his character behaving. This would indicate bias on the part of the narrator.

If you're not familiar with my theory on historical bias in The Silmarillion, here's a quick primer before I dive into how the narrator expresses bias against Caranthir and why. Tolkien always imagined his stories as being told or authored by an in-universe character. In the case of The Silmarillion,for decades he assigned the authorship of much of it--including the Beleriand chapters of the Quenta--to a loremaster of Gondolin named Pengolodh; references to Pengolodh were stricken from the published text by Christopher Tolkien. However, the evidence of that narrator remains in the form of bias: who is discussed in the text and the kind of treatment they receive. I've compiled and looked at data around mentions of characters, descriptions of realms, death scenes, and accounts of battles, and in each instance, the data shows a strong bias toward people and groups that would have been favored by someone from Gondolin. (Some of my data can be found in my article Attainable Vistas; I am working now on putting the rest together to hopefully have it published also at some point.)

Looking at individual characters and the disparity between how they are described and what they actually do in the story also reveals bias. This is particularly egregious in the case of Caranthir.

Caranthir the Dark

The Silmarillion says very little about Caranthir. He is mentioned only 24 times (not counting mentions in the "Index of Names"), the least of any of the sons of Fëanor except Amrod and Amras. Yet the first time we see him act independently of his brothers, Pengolodh immediately applies a damning label to him:

But Caranthir, who loved not the sons of Finarfin, and was the harshest of the brothers and the most quick to anger, cried aloud ... ("Of the Return of the Noldor," emphasis mine)

The Fëanorians are not exactly sweetness and gentleness in The Silmarillion. To be named the harshest of this particular brood is notable.

Additionally, Caranthir is given the epithet "the dark," a seeming corroboration of Pengolodh's observation of his temper. According to The Shibboleth of Fëanor, this epithet derives from his father-name Morifinwë (dark Finwë), and we know from Tolkien that the root mor- and being described as "dark" is not generally a compliment. In this case, though, the epithet is not a comment on his temperament; rather, according to Shibboleth, it is because "he was black-haired as his grandfather" (HoMe XII, p. 353). His mother-name Carnistir, meaning "red-face," also could be construed as a comment on his temper ... except that it also remarks on his resemblance to a relative, in this case "the ruddy complexion of his mother" (p. 353). But because none of the etymology of his name is explained in The Silmarillion and he's just stuck with the unqualified epithet "the dark," his epithet suggests that there is a consensus that he has a tempestuous, difficult personality.

What's interesting, though, is that even though we're told this about Caranthir, it never particularly bears out in the story. Yes, in this scene, we see him rashly rebuke Angrod for what he sees as an overreach. (Pengolodh dwells overlong on the reaction to Caranthir's outburst, just in case you missed the message that what he said was completely inappropriate and just plain wrong.) But this also seems to be a one-off instance. We don't see him behave this way again.

Caranthir the ... Cosmopolitan?

In fact, we see him behave in the opposite manner, over and over again, although Pengolodh's bias toward him sometimes twists those instances to deemphasize their positivity. Take his first encounter with the Dwarves:

And thus it was that Caranthir's people came upon the Dwarves, who after the onslaught of Morgoth and the coming of the Noldor had ceased their traffic into Beleriand. But though either people loved skill and were eager to learn, no great love was there between them; for the Dwarves were secret and quick to resentment, and Caranthir was haughty and scarce concealed his scorn for the unloveliness of the Naugrim, and his people followed their lord. Nevertheless since both peoples feared and hated Morgoth they made alliance, and had of it great profit; for the Naugrim learned many secrets of craft in those days, so that the smiths and masons of Nogrod and Belegost became renowned among their kin, and when the Dwarves began again to journey into Beleriand all the traffic of the dwarf-mines passed first through the hands of Caranthir, and thus great riches came to him. ("Of the Return of the Noldor," emphasis mine)

Here is what happens in this passage: The Dwarves have stopped trafficking into Beleriand and resume, presumably in part at least due to the defenses offered by Caranthir. They form a military allegiance in the interest of their mutual defense. They form an economic partnership that enriches both parties. Stepping back to consider the big picture, this is a remarkably good relationship between Elves and Dwarves, whose long enmity forms a plot arc that extends over the entirety of the legendarium. Of the Eldar in Beleriand, only Maeglin and Finrod Felagund have comparably good relationships with the Dwarves and some (lookin' at you, Elu Thingol) have disastrously bad.

But it's important to also notice how Pengolodh undermines that relationship. While acquiescing that, yeah, the Dwarves' difficult temperaments make allegiance difficult, he follows up with what amounts to, "But Caranthir called them ugly!" (The level of maturity in this accusation reminds me of how my middle-school students might handle such a situation.) Pengolodh is also quick to point out that "no great love was there between then," as though there are any examples, aside from Maeglin and Finrod Felagund, of Eldarin Elves who form a relationship with Dwarves that might be characterized with a word like love. There isn't, but that doesn't stop Pengolodh from holding Caranthir to a higher standard than he holds his own king--who holds no relationship, loving or otherwise, with the Dwarves--much less someone like Elu Thingol, who receives very little scrutiny for his role in sparking the ages-long, disastrous conflict between Elves and Dwarves.

The parting remark about how "all the traffic of the dwarf-mines passed first through the hands of Caranthir, and thus great riches came to him" always feels negative to me, but that is admittedly my own bias around the hoarding of wealth. From a loremaster of Gondolin--the most unapologetic example in Beleriand of the use of resources for pure opulence--the connotation of riches might well have been very different. Nonetheless, there is a sense in this sentence, in the rather passive-feeling phrase "passed through the hands," that Caranthir's riches weren't exactly earned so much as a matter of geographical convenience.

The next time we see Caranthir in action is again in relation to a group of non-Elves: the mortal Haladin:

First came the Haladin; but meeting the unfriendship of the Green-elves they turned north and dwelt in Thargelion, in the country of Caranthir son of Fëanor; there for a time they had peace, and the people of Caranthir paid little heed to them.

. . .

Therefore [Melkor] sent out an Orc-raid, and passing east it escaped the leaguer, and came in stealth back over Ered Lindon by the passes of the Dwarf-road, and fell upon the Haladin in the southern woods of the land of Caranthir.

. . .

But seven days later, as the Orcs made their last assault and had already broken through the stockade [of the Haladin], there came suddenly a music of trumpets, and Caranthir with his host came down from the north and drove the Orcs into the rivers.

Then Caranthir looked kindly upon Men and did Haleth great honour; and he offered her recompense for her father and brother. And seeing, over late, what valour there was in the Edain, he said to her: 'If you will remove and dwell further north, there you shall have the friendship and protection of the Eldar, and free lands of your own.' ("Of the Coming of Men into the West," emphasis mine)

It is hard even for Pengolodh to spin this one negatively. Caranthir acts with remarkable heroism and magnanimity in this scene, not only defending a beleaguered people against their shared enemy (although I can't resist pointing out that other rulers among the Eldar are not similarly generous with their aid) but offering lands, protection, and most remarkably to me, what amounts to weregild for her slain relatives.

Pengolodh does try to spin it, though. The fact that initially the "people of Caranthir paid little heed to them" sets up a scenario where Caranthir's offer can be read more as a shoring up of his defenses once he realizes his new neighbors are actually useful than a gesture of friendship and admiration. Of course, Pengolodh can't resist adding the dig that Caranthir sees the Haladin's valor "over late"; again, few of the Eldar--and Finrod Felagund is again the notable exception--are willing to enter into relationships with groups of Mortals without the potential for gain for themselves. We also don't know what it means that Caranthir "did Haleth great honour," although I suspect that if it had been Turgon or Thingol or Finrod standing in Caranthir's place, we would have received this information is lavish, congratulatory detail.

I also can't overlook the fact that Pengolodh's critique of Caranthir for not paying adequate attention to the Haladin before the Orc-raid comes immediately on the heels of admitting that another group of Elves, the Green-elves of Ossiriand, had unceremoniously driven these same Haladin from their lands. The Avari are also subjected to the bias of Tolkien's narrators; however, Pengolodh's word choice here turns Caranthir's decision to leave the Haladin alone into a negative when it's very possible that both parties felt this was the ideal course. Certainly Haleth's response to Caranthir's later offer doesn't suggest that she took umbrage. (Lake Helevorn where Caranthir lived and the southern extent of his realm where the Haladin settled were also about 150 miles/240 km apart, according to Fonstad's Atlas of Middle-earth, so he would have had to roll the welcome wagon pretty far.) In any case, Pengolodh's initial assessment of Caranthir as the "harshest of the brothers" is in no way reflected in how he treated the Haladin at any point during their occupancy of his land. A harsh character, most likely, would have driven them off that land or offered his aid only with significant strings attached.

(Interestingly, when Haleth moves her people west to Brethil, Thingol tries to do just that: first, drive them from the land and then only allowing them to stay with strings attached. This information, while reported, isn't subject to the same negativity as Caranthir's at-worst-benign actions were. Also important to note, the character who convinces Thingol to allow the Haladin to remain in Brethil is none other than Finrod Felagund.)

Since I've brought up that "harshest of the brothers" accusation again, it might be a good time to pause, in light of what we've seen of Caranthir so far, and consider him beside some of the brothers of whom he is reputed to be the harshest. Like Celegorm and Curufin, who send off their beloved cousin Finrod to die in Sauron's dungeons, plan the kidnapping and captivity of Lúthien, and generally stoke fear and bloodthirstiness in people. Curufin is repudiated by his son; Celegorm is repudiated by his dog, for goodness sake, and we're supposed to buy that Caranthir is harsher and quicker to anger than those two? (This is not to say that there isn't bias against Celegorm and Curufin in The Silmarillion as well, but their reputations are better justified by their deeds than in the case of Caranthir.)

Two more instances in the life of Caranthir deserve mention. After the Battle of Sudden Flame,

Caranthir fled and joined the remnant of his people to the scattered folk of the hunters, Amrod and Amras, and they retreated and passed Ramdal in the south. Upon Amon Ereb they maintained a watch and some strength of war, and they had aid of the Green-elves ... ("Of the Ruin of Beleriand")

These are the same Green-elves who, a few chapters earlier, were unwilling to tolerate the homeless Haladin in their lands, who are described as wary and secretive ("Of the Sindar"), and who insist they "desire no strangers in this land to break the peace in which we live" ("Of the Coming of Men into the West" ... these are the Green-elves now lending aid to Caranthir. One has to wonder what in his harsh, angry personality convinced them to do that.

(By the way, who is the only other Noldo described as forging a successful friendship with the Green-elves before this point? Finrod Felagund ...)

Next, Caranthir forges another non-Eldarin alliance with Ulfang the Black and his sons. Unfortunately, this alliance does not turn out well, as he is betrayed by them. Nonetheless, stepping back again to consider the big picture reveals a character who forms a remarkably diverse array of alliances, most of them productive (and when they aren't, not through fault of his), with Dwarves, Mortals--both Edain and Easterling--and Avarin Elves. This is unusual. While the Eldar as a whole form allegiances with these various peoples, it is uncommon for one individual to do so.

The Finrod Connection

Uncommon but not unheard of. There is one character who does form friendships with all of these people: Finrod Felagund. Finrod is one of Pengolodh's favorite people. He is mentioned 96 times--exactly four times as often as Caranthir--and is the ninth most-mentioned character in The Silmarillion. Finrod seems to have earned this regard: In every sense of the word, he is an extraordinary person whose life is devoted to forging friendships and peace between disparate people and whose actions are guided by kindness and wisdom. He's the sort of person who can be Turgon's best friend and still hang out with Maedhros and Maglor and make that seem like it's not weird at all.

Pengolodh devotes a lot of energy toward depicting Finrod as the cosmopolitan of the House of Finwë. Caranthir, in many ways, is set up as a foil to Finrod. Where Finrod is golden, Caranthir is dark. Where Finrod is benevolent, Caranthir is described as harsh and haughty. Both have a love for treasure and beautiful things, but Finrod is a consummate craftsman whereas we know nothing of Caranthir's profession or talents. Their realms even face each other from opposite sides of Beleriand.

But both could rightfully be considered the most cosmopolitan of the Eldar in Beleriand, and comparing how Pengolodh treats the alliances and friendships they build is an interesting case study in how bias manifests in The Silmarillion. (A productive third angle could be taken in looking at Elu Thingol, who also forges a lot of relationships with different peoples but is spectacularly bad at it and yet receives almost no criticism from Pengolodh, i.e., his treatment of the Haladin discussed above.) It also suggests a motive for Pengolodh's depiction of Caranthir, which seems, ironically, rather harsh when one considers the attested details of Caranthir's life. Aside from yelling that one time at Angrod, Caranthir does pretty well at staying out of the way of his cousins. He's not a warmonger and doesn't betray anyone. He does participate in the kinslayings--but so do Maedhros and Maglor, and Pengolodh musters some sympathy for them. Furthermore, it would have been unlikely that Pengolodh even met him since he went to Gondolin so young and Turgon and the Fëanorians weren't on the best of terms at this time. (So it's not likely Caranthir offended him personally, like the time my sister bore a long grudge against Smokey the Bear because a person wearing that costume stuck out their tongue in my sister's general direction. She was also about three when this happened, for the record.) It's hard to imagine where his animosity towards Caranthir, of all people, comes from.

Pengolodh's treatment of Caranthir begins to make sense, though, when we remember that Finrod was Turgon's best friend, and Turgon is Pengolodh's king. There may have been a degree of protectiveness of Finrod's reputation as the cosmopolitan of the House of Finwë: the person who singlehandedly did The Most to unite the Free Peoples of Beleriand in the First Age. Pointing out that someone like Caranthir, when Caranthir is part of the problematic House of Fëanor, is also capable of forging diverse alliances and friendships diminishes Finrod's accomplishments in this area. Therefore, Pengolodh--while acknowledging the unavoidable historical facts--emphasizes the negative aspects of Caranthir's relationships with other groups.

Now the question will arise: Do I really think that Tolkien thought about all of this? This question is always in the back of my mind as I dive into my historical bias research, especially as a fanfiction writer as well as scholar, accustomed to diving into rabbit holes in my fic and seeing what lies at the bottom. I hesitate always to assign intent where it isn't abundantly clear, and this is no exception. However, my research has shown again and again that the biases one would expect of Pengolodh, the most enduring narrator of The Silmarillion, bear out in both the data and case studies of the text. I do think that this was broadly intended, as in I think that Tolkien deliberately wrote the majority of the Quenta Silmarillion in mind with Pengolodh as the narrator, shaping the story based on what Pengolodh would have known and, yes, his biases. So while I can't and won't state that Tolkien sat down to write one day with the thought in mind that Pengolodh was going to utterly slander the reputation of Caranthir because of his king's bromance with Finrod, I do think that being steeped in ancient and medieval historical writings as Tolkien was and seeking to write in that mode, he did intentionally bring along a pseudohistorical narrator, biases and all.

(Thanks @maedhrosrussandol for the discussion and @shineoftherainbow for the meta that inspired me to finally write down this essay. ^_^)

[fullvoidmoon]

A “Little” Prank and a Soaked Tunic

Pairing/s: Thorin x (human!fem)reader

Setting/Timeline: The Quest to reclaim Erebor

Warning(s)/Genre(s): Fluff, implied smut

Word Count: 1,469

The Hobbit/The Lord of the Rings, The Durins, Any of the Company, Gandalf the Grey(mentioned), and Radagast the Brown(mentioned) © J.R.R. Tolkien Context © me

Inquired by @justcallmecinammon via ask.

Based on my imagine.

A/N: After 10,000 years, I’ve finally written a drabble/one-shot based on this particular imagine. And since I wrote this in a sudden spur of the moment and ideas kept rushing in my mind, I just realized I overdid it with its length. So sorry if there are any errors or if it doesn’t live up to your liking.

Thank you also to @ineedcaffine for the white button-up shirt idea ;)

The Hobbit tag list: @igotanaddixon @fizzy-custard @fromthedeskoftheraven @deepestfirefun @evyiione @mrs-thorin-oakenshield @life-is-righteous @sdavid09 @dreamsofrivendell @epicallychrissy @petals-overdaisies

Thorin II Oakenshield tag list: @fab-notfat

Permanent tag list: @imagines-for-multiple-fandoms @thepoet1975 @cd1242 @thegreyberet

Masterlist: HERE

You are 100 percent sure you are about to murder someone.

And by someone you are pertaining to the two numskulls that call themselves the Princes of the Durin’s folk.

It has been months since you joined the Company of Thorin Oakenshield upon the recommendation - more likely upon the insistent - of Gandalf the Grey; proudly telling everyone you’ve been friends with the Grey Wizard and has been both his and Radagast the Brown’s apprentice, making you knowledgeable about Middle Earth more than anyone among the race of Men.

Though you were welcomed with a mix of hesitation and prejudice among some members of the Company, you being a child of Man and a woman to boot, it never really deters your confidence and determination to prove your worth; that you can also stand your ground against orcs, wargs, and trolls, and your vast knowledge and mastery in the arts of magic and healing. 

“Are you alright Miss (Y/N)?” Ori, so sweet and thoughtful of him, asks as he hands you a towel to dry yourself, “oh I do hope you will not catch a cold.”

“I will be fine Ori,” you sigh, giving the youngest of the dwarves a reassuring smile while trying to dissipate the boiling irritation that currently runs through your veins. 

Relief is definitely an understatement to what you felt when the Company’s leader and rightful heir to the throne of Thrór finally accepted you among their ranks. Not just because you are getting tired of being ignored and shunned, but you also feel hurt.

You would never tell to any living soul, probably except Gandalf and Bilbo, what your heart does to you whenever his eyes, the bluest you’ve ever seen, would turn its gaze on you; staring at your very soul as chills run up and down your spine.

“What exactly happened, Miss (Y/N),” Ori softly inquires, immediately regretting his inquiry as he sees you seething almost instantly.

“It was the two Princes,” Dori interjects as he grabs another towel to dry your hair, “pouring ice cold water to the poor lass, the nerve of them.”

But never would you expect the two conniving princes, with ‘a little’ help of the sneaky bastard Nori, would have any idea about your deep affections for their Uncle and would do something to this extent; pouring a bucket of freezing water from a stream who knows where and dumping it all over you before leaving camp to find some more firewood.

“I swear to the Valar I might murder those two once they step one foot in this camp.”

And a pair of sapphire eyes staring intently at your form after witnessing the whole ordeal; the bluest of eyes slowly turns into its darker shade like the midnight sky.

-----

Thorin could not really say if he should be exasperated towards his rambunctious nephews, or if he should be thankful to what their rambunctiousness did.

He may not outwardly admit it, and may seem to be too stoic and harsh towards the only female among the Company; he could never deny what (Y/N) does to his heart, mind, and soul.

But somehow his sister’s sons saw something in his secretive glances and subtle actions, making them see his growing affections towards her.

“I truly apologize to what my nephews did,” Thorin says, trying to keep his voice even after offering (Y/N) some assistance to dry herself at a nearby creek.

“It is fine,” she replies, sighing after realizing her favorite tunic is too drenched than expected, “I guess I never thought Fili and Kili could really pull off something as troublesome as dumping ice cold water at someone.”

No matter how hard he would ignore his adoration for her, always reminding himself that the quest should be prioritized before anything else, the King Under the Mountain knows that (Y/N), a budding woman and the epitome of grace and kindness but filled with fire, bravery, wit, and courage, is no mere apprentice of two of Middle Earth’s guardians.

“Such a sight to behold,” Thorin whispers, aware that his gaze would not be averted as he traces (Y/N)’s curves at her back.

What Fili and Kili did to her, as he could still see droplets of water cascading down her neck, her thick locks wet and framing her flushed cheeks, and her body shaking, made him realize he may not hold his hidden desires for her any longer.

And her white, button-up tunic that clings on her body, making him see the soft, smooth skin under the now see-through clothing, makes his desires increase tenfold. 

“Did you say something Thorin?” (Y/N) asks, her flushed cheeks turning a darker shade of red as she tries to focus on getting herself dry.

Did he really say what she thinks he said?

Though (Y/N) couldn’t deny her wishful thinking of the Dwarvenking loving her in return, never in her wildest imagination would Thorin think of her in such suggestive ways; no matter how enticing it sounds like or how it forces that uncomfortable but pleasurable knot to tighten in her stomach down to her nether region.

(Y/N) would be lying if she continues to stubbornly tell herself it is just her wishful thinking playing such tricks; trying to deceive her that he truly said what she heard him said.

And Thorin couldn’t help but let the warmth of his love and adoration, and his growing desire, for (Y/N) envelope his heart and soul as he watches her struggling with her inner thoughts.

“What makes you think so deeply,” he whispers, making (Y/N) break her reverie and not realizing he had come close to her, “for you not to hear what I said?” 

Thorin could feel (Y/N) shiver, goosebumps appearing on her skin as his warm, calloused fingers slowly tracing onto her arms; leaving feather-like but electrifying touches as its trails. If only (Y/N) knows how much he would love to have his lips grazing her smooth skin.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, Thorin,” (Y/N) softly replies, trying hard not to give out a whimper as she feels his warm breath blowing at the exposed skin of her nape.

The small crack in her voice is evident enough for him to be aware of her doubts, her insecurities holding her back and eating the confidence she exudes whenever her aid is needed among the Company; one of the many qualities he first saw in her that made him realize her worth as his One and Queen.

Thorin, always straightforward, firm, and strong in his commands, gives out a gentle whisper to her ear as his arms slowly wrap around her waist, “you doubt that my love and adoration for you exist.”

(Y/N) doesn’t reply, fully aware that her voice would betray her in voicing out her fears. But she places her hand onto his arm, giving it a light squeeze as a sign of affirmation.

“I am truly sorry amrâlimê,” Thorin says, surprising her for never has she heard him apologize to anyone in the past months, “but please do not mind this fool of a dwarf.”

(Y/N) could feel his lips again grazing on her now heated skin, this time giving it soft kisses and light nips that makes her feel hot; making her forget the chills her soaked tunic is giving her and her desire to change into a dry one, making her ignore her rational mind screaming profanities at her to not succumb into her desires and wishes.

How could she ever resist such temptation when all she dreams every night is of Thorin’s rough hands running up and down her sides as he presses her firmly against him; hearing him whispering sweet nothings and suggestive notions to her ear as he grinds his hips on her.

“I have always wanted to do this,” (Y/N) hears Thorin’s husky voice behind her own whimpers, “hold you, caress you; shower you with love and adoration that only I could give.”

“You can,” she whispers back, turning around and looking at him with hooded eyes, “if only you know what I’ve been dreaming of every night.”

Thorin couldn’t help but give off a smile, not just because he can now hold (Y/N) with no inhibitions and doubts and show her how much he could love her.

“Then let me take care of you from this night until our very last,” his growl suddenly invades her hearing as she is slowly laid down on the ground, making her nether region moist; his beautiful sapphire eyes filled with love and lust as it turns as dark as the night sky.

But because it took him long enough to realize there is nothing for him to worry about.

And all that it took him to confess is a ‘little’ prank and a soaked tunic.

[dalet-us]

I Believe!

** Jonah and the Whale, Pieter Lastman 1621

My dear friend,

    Perhaps you are thinking to yourself that I do not cherish and love my wife, and I suspect that there are many others that are thinking the same thing.  When I published my post, “A Riddle?,” I figured that it would cause a bit of a stir, and it appears that it did.  What was I supposed to do, pull a Jonah and disobey God by running off to Tarshish?  You have heard the story before, no?

“1Now the word of the LORD came unto Jonah the son of Amittai, saying, 2Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and cry against it; for their wickedness is come up before me. 3But Jonah rose up to flee unto Tarshish from the presence of the LORD, and went down to Joppa; and he found a ship going to Tarshish: so he paid the fare thereof, and went down into it, to go with them unto Tarshish from the presence of the LORD. 4But the LORD sent out a great wind into the sea, and there was a mighty tempest in the sea, so that the ship was like to be broken. …”

“15So they took up Jonah, and cast him forth into the sea: and the sea ceased from her raging. 16Then the men feared the LORD exceedingly, and offered a sacrifice unto the LORD, and made vows. 17Now the LORD had prepared a great fish to swallow up Jonah. And Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights.” – Jonah 1:1-4 & 1:15-17 KJV

    I would rather not attempt my circumnavigation in the belly of a fish, thank you very much!

    God instructed me to post that message, and so I did … verbatim.  The only thing that I did that was not in complete obedience was that I added the line, “All praise and glory and honor unto our blessed Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” Everything else in that message was exactly as God instructed – to the letter! Besides, if that message has anything to do with my own wife, let God be the judge.

    Thus, I think that it is important that you understand more perfectly how much I do cherish and love my wife.  I would not want any untruthful rumors making the rounds.  May God have mercy on our disobedient hearts!

​    I would love to tell you the whole story right here and now, but as with the topic of circumnavigation, it is not a story that I can tell in a single blog post. Therefore, I will do my best to spread it out in colorful sketches.

    Before God inflicted me with my gastrointestinal disease, I met my wife in a nightclub of all places.  Neither her nor I wanted to be going out with our friends to nightclubs that night.  Yet both of us relented to the pressure of our friends and suffered ourselves to their shameless urgings.  We and our friends all ended up in the same nightclub, a place called “Popeye’s.”  As we later discovered, we were both very discontent to find ourselves at Popeye’s with our cheeky friends. Neither one of us was in the mood to be dealing with the typical meat-market personas.  When I saw her on the other side of the dance floor, I was captivated with her gracious countenance, and she was very fair to look upon, with her long flowing blond hair and her Amazonian stature.  She was as the Lady Galadriel among the women of Bree .  She was like no other woman I had ever seen before.  Why it is that she accepted my invitation to dance is beyond me.

** [1] The Lady of Shalott, John William Waterhouse 1888

     I soon learned why she was so different.  She came from a family of upstanding rapport, out of the mountainous farmlands of Montana.  She was a true down-to-earth Montana breed queen of virtue, and she had the beauty to match her distinguishing heritage.  Her father and her late mother were both very fine, upstanding, and highly respected citizens of her hometown in Montana: hardworking, genuine Spirit-filled Christians, moral, ethical, gracious, warm, loving, caring and humble people.  How could I not fall in love with her, especially when she regarded me with such great respect and adoration?

    When my father was murdered in 1993, she was an extraordinary source of support, comfort, and understanding.  I could never have asked God for a better friend and companion during that difficult trial of my life.  Shortly afterwards, she unofficially became my business partner.  I left my position at the headquarters of Tower Records and became an independent contractor.  Of course, my contracts with Tower Records accounted for over ninety percent of my business.

    Essentially, I was installing all of the low-voltage electrical systems (audio, video, telecom, & datacom systems) that I had designed when I was still an employee at Tower Records.  Tower Records was at the peak of their heyday, opening about 40 new stores each year.  My wife (girlfriend at the time) was my financial/accounting expert.  She was so amazingly good to me, and patient beyond measure.

    Only a few months before my father’s death, I used up one of the twenty or thirty some-odd lives that God has blessed me with.  (A cat has nothing on me. By the grace of my Lord and Savior, I have at least three times as many lives as a cat!)  I am sure you have heard me tell this story before, of how I nearly drank myself to death when I was working in Mexico City.  (That is a story for another day, however.)  Nonetheless, it was that incident that began all of my gastrointestinal issues.  Over the years, my gastrointestinal problems gradually became more difficult, more problematic, and an ever-greater impact to my ability to live and to contribute to a rich relationship and marriage with my wife. Regardless of all of my short comings, she has always endured and supported me with the utmost mercy and provision for what I lacked (financial security in particular).  It has ever been her goal and purpose to have a sure retirement.

** Dale w/ the co-owners of the Tower Records, Niza St., Mexico City

    Immediately after we were married in 1997, my gastrointestinal symptoms began to become an impact to my livelihood, especially at work.  It also began to limit my ability to eat certain foods.  In the beginning, there were only a few restaurants that we had to scratch off of the list, for instance, most of the Italian restaurants.  Despite the changes to my diet, the symptoms continued to get worse, and I became more aggressive in my search for answers from the medical profession.  The problem was that none of the doctors that I had seen were able to provide any help or any solutions.  In fact, most of them thought that the problem was largely, if not entirely, psychological.

    I have lost count of all the medical professionals that I have seen over the years.  Some of them have proved to be a hindrance and/or antagonistic. Others have been nothing more than a waste of time.  A few of them have blessed me with a little bit of insight on my problem, and only one of them has provided genuine help in solving the gastrointestinal disorder.  Unfortunately, that man passed away about ten years ago.  At this point in time, I have found that there are very few medical practitioners that possess more practical knowledge about my condition than myself.

    Perhaps you have heard this explanation before, but the big problem now is that I am not especially confident that I can find any medical practitioner that will actually be able to supply a solution to my problem.  It is a three-fold problem: I would need to find a practitioner that has the genuine ability to diagnose and to treat the condition; I would need to subject myself to the numerous months of testing required for that practitioner to diagnose the condition; and I would need to undergo the numerous attempts to treat the condition in search for a treatment that actually works (assuming that they would even be able to devise a successful treatment).  More than likely, I would need to subject myself to several potential practitioners.  (There is no shortage of practitioners that think that they know what they are talking about, when in reality they are simply full of hot air.)  It would be a miracle to find a competent doctor in less than a year. Then it would be no less than six months for a diagnosis.  Finally, our experimentation of treatments would begin, and what would it take to find a successful plan of attack? … 12 months? … 18 months?  I could easily be at this whole doctor shopping exercise for the next five years, and still be without a solution.  This is how dire my problem is!

    There is not a chance that such an approach would fit into God’s plan for me to circumnavigate the Earth.  By that plan, I would be lucky to be in the early stages of my treatment plan at the time I am supposed to embark out of Singapore.  Therefore, God clearly has something entirely different planned for my deliverance.

    I will let you in on a little secret.  I have not the slightest inclination of what God’s solution for my affliction could possibly be.  Yet, with all my heart and soul I believe that God is going to provide a solution, just exactly as I believe in you! With all my heart and soul, I believe in you, as God has given me reason to believe. Love Always, Dale 😊

Read this post on my own personal blog Website dalet.us

©2021 Dale Trussell

1. Those of you that are Lord of the Rings aficionados may be wondering why I chose a picture of the "Lady of Shalott," instead of a picture of Galadriel herself.  I simply liked this picture better than those that I could find of Galadriel.  It is thought that JR Tolkien may have modeled the character of Galadriel after the Lady of Shalott, in part.  Looking at this picture, I can see how that could be said.

[almostarchaeology]

Before Conan the Barbarian, There Was Bran

By Adrián Maldonado

I write about medieval barbarians in my legit academic work, and use this blog to explore how they occasionally escape from our powerpoint slides into the public consciousness.

I recently realized that for all my degrees, I didn’t know a thing about one of history’s most famous barbarians. It was high time I looked up Conan.

Stock image of Dark Age Europe

In my 80s childhood, Conan the Barbarian was a kind of folk character – a stock image of a beefy white guy in a furry loincloth with a giant sword. (I would probably be picturing Conan the Librarian, to be honest.) But I already had He-Man in my life, a knock-off Conan cartoon made to sell toys, though I could not have known that because the cartoon was so unspeakably awesome it would brook no questioning. Indeed, I only discovered the Schwarzenegger Conan films later on, when I was old enough to realize he had made other weird, non-science fiction films back in the Reagan era. I knew vaguely that the character was based on a book, or was it a comic book? This was before the internet, and before I could ever give a shit about a character with no good action figures.

Flash forward twenty years or so, when I am a grizzled Xennial hunched over his computer, writing about depictions of the Picts in pop culture. Immersed in terrible filmic depictions of ancient Scottish warriors (always warriors), it struck me that I had never thought about Conan the Barbarian. What kind of barbarian was he meant to be? Did his story take place in some kind of historical epoch? Were there Picts in it that I could add to my list?

Imagine my shock when I did find a Pict down this rabbit hole (or souterrain?), and he looked like this:

Whatever else I was working on, stopped.

***

Robert E. Howard is best known today as the creator of Conan the Barbarian. But little did I know that he was one of the first pop culture appropriators of the Picts. Indeed, he was writing about the Picts long before he even conceived of Conan. The Picts were his muse. I feel like this is important, and I may need more than one blog post to say why. But first, an introduction.

I had seen some hilarious renderings of Picts over the years, but they always fell into the usual stereotype of tattooed maniacs hurling themselves onto Roman spears.

Tattooed maniacs hurling themselves onto Roman spears (source)

This 1960s paperback collection of stories by Howard entitled Bran Mak Morn, apparently the last king of the Picts, depicted this king Pict as a Neanderthal surrounded by howling ape-men. To me, this seemed like the purest distillation of the idea of the barbarians beyond the wall as sub-human, a trope developed in Roman imperial propaganda and continually reproduced today by the Hadrian’s Wall heritage ecosystem.

The paperback was one of a series of reprints of Howard’s genre-defining pulp fantasy of the 1920s and 1930s, brought back to life in the wake of the Tolkien wave of the 60s. Closer inspection revealed that Frank Frazetta’s 1969 cover image bore little resemblance to the description of Bran himself in Howard’s tales, even if his Pictish ‘race’ was certainly of a simian variety. More on this presently. What I wanted to know first was how a Texas kid learned about the Picts in the early 20th century, and came out with this.

***

Robert E Howard had a tough childhood in his native Texas. Coming from a broken home, he moved around a lot and read books to keep himself company. In 1919, at the age of 13, his father dragged him to New Orleans while he took classes, so he squirrelled himself away in a library on Canal Street. It was there that he first read about the Picts in a book about British history. The image of a little, dark race from the north that hassled the Romans but could never be conquered fascinated him. Perhaps due to the ray of light this book gave him at a sensitive point in his childhood, the Picts remained ingrained in his mind for the rest of his short life, which he would later take in 1936, at the age of 30.

Like many other nerdy kids, he wrote stories to pass the time. In his archive were found several early writings which reveal the impact the Picts had on him. There is a school paper from 1920-23 about the Picts. The first story he ever submitted for publication was about the Picts, ‘The Lost Race’, but it was rejected by the editor of Weird Tales in 1924. He sold his first story later that year, beginning his professional writing career. A revised version of ‘The Lost Race’ was finally published in Weird Tales in 1927, introducing the world to Bran Mak Morn, a Pictish king who fought the Romans. He would go on to make several more appearances in Howard’s swords-and-sorcery tales, and the Picts eventually became one of the myriad ‘races’ in Howard’s Hyborian Age, a proto-prehistoric shared universe inhabited by Conan the Barbarian.

Bran Mak Morn by Gary Gianni (source)

Howard’s Picts are a peculiar bunch. From his first essay on them, he describes them as the remnants of the stone age inhabitants of Britain, comparing their appearance to Native Americans. In this view, they were the ‘Mediterraneans’ (as opposed to Celts or Nordics) who first brought the knowledge of farming to Britain in the Neolithic. They were eventually swept aside by the fair-skinned ‘Celtic’ race of metalworkers, at which point they were forced to mingle and interbreed with the indigenous cavemen, a barely human simian-like race. This meant that by the arrival of the Romans, the Picts had become stunted, swarthy, long-armed ape-men. All except Bran Mak Morn, their king, who had kept his bloodline pure. All pretty disgusting racial logic now, but hey, so the argument goes, it was the 20s.

Except that here it was, unfiltered and raw, in a book released during the height of the civil rights struggle in the United States. I bought this ancient artefact off of Amazon for pennies, and holding it in 2017, it felt like I’d acquired an illicit antiquity. Plenty of writers have tripped over themselves to call out and defend Tolkien and Howard regarding the racial (if not always racist) component to their mythical prehistories, so I won’t go down that route just now. But that cover image haunted me.

***

In 2005, Bran Mak Morn received a brand-new edition, the Weird Tales stories now bundled with unpublished manuscripts, fragments of Howard’s correspondence, and critical essays by Rusty Burke and Patrice Louinet. Armed with an annotated timeline of Howard’s Pictish writings, which spanned his career, and supplemented with google-fu, I was able to clarify the genesis of Bran Mak Morn.

Former Canal Street public library, New Orleans, 1911 (source)

It is possible to trace the public library Howard visited when he was 13, when he first encountered a British history book and his vision of the dark, prehistoric Picts. The Canal Street public library in question must be the one that formerly stood at 2940 Canal Street at the corner of South Gayoso, opened in 1911. A photograph survives on the New Orleans library website, and Google Maps reveals it is now a Yoga studio.

Origin myths of the Picts (source)

Rusty Burke has also plausibly identified the very book that Howard seems to have read: The Romance of Early British Life (1909) by George Francis Scott Elliot. This is apparently one of the flashy, pulpy ‘Library of Romance’ published by London-based Seeley and Co, described as ‘profusely illustrated’ ‘gift books’, which included among their number volumes such as The Romance of Modern Mining and The Romance of the World’s Fisheries. The author Scott Elliot was a botanist and antiquarian, president of Dumfries and Galloway Natural History and Antiquarian Society during an apparent low point in its history.

The fairly ridiculous book in question seems to have been written for Edwardian teenage boys, and does indeed bear the DNA of Howard’s later writing on the Picts: “In very ancient times Britain had been twice conquered, first by the small, dark Picts of the Mediterranean, and later (about 2000 or 1000 B.C.) by the tall, brown-haired, Gaelic-speaking Celts (237).” The chapter on the introduction of farming to Britain is called ‘The coming of the Picts’, in which Scott Elliot explains that they have been called by several names before – Homo Mediterraneus, Basques, Iberians, Silurians, the Firbolg, the Dolmen-builders – but he calls them Picts to save on ink (80-1). He claims they are still readily identifiable in the present day, as the short, brunette people who are mostly found in towns and cities, unlike the fairer Teutons or Kelts who prefer the countryside (92-3).

Howard’s vision of the Picts was thus formulated by the equivalent of our contemporary public archaeology, an accessible potted prehistory of Britain by one of Scotland’s leading antiquaries. Why this particular image, of a dark, forgotten people without a history, resonated so deeply with him, is a subject to ponder. But he was clearly not alone in his fascination. While racial views of the past soon died out in archaeological writing, they would go on to have a tenacious grip on the fantasy world. And which of these two genres do you think has a greater influence on people’s image of the medieval past?

***

Why does any of this matter? It is a demonstration of the role of ‘the Picts’, in various guises, as the untermenschen of what you might call western folk history. The fact that a young boy in inter-war Louisiana could head to the nearest library, read about them in a cheap history book, and then build a world-beating fictional universe that is still beloved today based on this is remarkable. As I’ve spent some time documenting on these pages, that image of the Picts is still in a way with us. A recent article in the Glasgow Herald has the reporter coming to the shocking insight that the Picts were not ‘hairy savages’ after speaking briefly to a couple of scholars. I wonder if that means we are doing our job well, or terribly.

It also opens up questions about the central role of race at the origins of both archaeology and the fantasy genre, a sticky subject that will have to be the subject of future blog posts [Editor's note: now read the follow-up to this post]. In the meantime, go check out similar topics being covered over on The Public Medievalist. 

And hey, why not donate to your local public library while you’re at it?

***

Follow us on ​@AlmostArch

Header image via Jeff Black

[mst3kproject]

422: The Day the Earth Froze

The Kalevala is sort of the Iliad of Finland.  As the opening narration of The Day the Earth Froze explains, in the middle of the 19th century a philologist named Elias Lönnrot compiled a collection of folklore and oral poetry into a single epic, which went on to become a major cornerstone of Finnish national identity.  There's a Lemminkäinen Construction Group and a Sampo National Bank, towns called Kalevala and Pohjola, and things like Ilmarinen Streets all over the place.  February 28th is Kalevala Day.  It's a big damn deal.

Before I started this review, I did some thinking about whether I ought to read the poem before I tackled the movie.  I ended up deciding against it for a couple of reasons.  First, because a movie ought to stand on its own: part of its purpose is to bring the story to a new audience.  If you can only understand the movie because you're already familiar with the source material, it has failed both as an adaptation and as a piece of art in its own right.  I am therefore going into The Day the Earth Froze unspoiled by the poem, and will see what I can make of it.

Second, the Kalevala is fifty percent longer than the Iliad and would probably have taken me months to read.  That was also a constributing factor.

The Day the Earth Froze is a fairy tale: a bunch of old guys in pajamas want Ilmarinen the blacksmith to build them a Sampo, a magical object that can produce gold, grain, and salt.  It cannot be forged, however, without heavenly fire, which belongs to the witch Louhi (she keeps it in a cow skull for some reason).  It just so happens that Louhi wants the Sampo for herself, so she kidnaps Ilmarinen's sister Annikki and refuses to let her go except in exchange for the Sampo.  With no choice, Ilmarinen builds it, and then takes his sister home while her boyfriend, Lemminkäinen, goes back to destroy the Sampo.  Louhi takes revenge by crashing Lemminkäinen and Annikki's wedding and stealing the Sun.  The men of Kalevala must find a way to defeat her and force her to return it, or the world will come to an end in darkness and cold.

(If you're thinking that all the names in the movie sound like they came from the Silmarillion, that's because Tolkien loved the way Finnish sounded and used parts of its phonology and grammar as inspiration for the Elvish language Quenya.  Also, you're a nerd.)

The original film, called simply Sampo, was ninety minutes long.  Quite a bit of it was cut when they dubbed it into English as The Day the Earth Froze, and a little more chopped out by the MST3K people.  In addition to the English version, I managed to find one in the original Finnish with rather sparse subtitles.  I'm sure I missed a lot of the nuances of the dialogue that way, but I got to see the stuff that wasn't in the episode and boy howdy, some of it was weird.

For example, that bit of dialogue between Annikki and Lemminkäinen when they flirt a moment before his log floats away?  Not in the original.  I'm guessing AIP dubbed that in because they thought it was creepy that these two fall in love without ever even learning each other's names.  In an unusual move for American International Pictures, they were right.  It's even creepier when both parties run straight home to their families to rave about this pretty person they know absolutely nothing about.

Did you wonder how Lemminkäinen found out that Louhi had taken Annikki?  I kinda did.  Turns out it's because Annikki sent him a magical telegram made of hair, which gives him a vision causing him to shoot a taxidermied eagle with an arrow (I promise you, the scene is even stranger than you're imagining).  This, unfortunately, raises a new question: did Louhi have a way of delivering her ransom demand, or was she counting on Annikki to pull some Disney Princess magic out of her ass?  What if it hadn't occurred to Annikki to throw a lock of hair out the window?  What if Ilmarinen and Lemminkäinen just concluded she fell out of her boat and got eaten by a shark or something?  The extra material actually makes less sense.

Then there's the entire subplot they cut out, at least ten or fifteen minutes of movie in which Lemminkäinen gets his ass kicked by Louhi and his mom has to come to his rescue.  See, after Lemminkäinen returns to Pohjola for the Sampo, the witch tricks him into dropping his sword (after failing to trick him into drinking a flagon of frogs) and then puts a snake down his shirt.  He passes out from the venom, and the trolls throw his body off a cliff.  Luckily the sun was watching – it informs our hero's mother of this, and she straight-up walks across the sea, no explanation whatsoever, commands the ocean to spit him back up, and walks home again carrying him like a tea tray!

Holy shit.  Why didn't they send her to get the Sampo back?  She could just walk in and put it in her fucking purse! What's going to stop a woman who can give orders to the sea?

Once Le Mom Käinen gets her son's corpse back to Kalevala, the Tree and the Road who refused to help her earlier take pity and give her magical sap and dirt to bring him back to life.  So after all that, how does he thank her for bringing all her awe-inspiring superpowers to bear in saving his life?  Why, he goes right out and does the thing that got him killed again, returning to Pohjola to destroy the Sampo!  I hope she grounded him.

Like The Magic Voyage of Sinbad, The Day the Earth Froze was directed by Aleksandr Ptushko, and it's interesting to compare the two films.  The Day the Earth Froze has less of the distinctly operatic feel that was such a part of Magic Voyage, but it is not completely absent.  There's very little of it, to be sure, in the opening sequences, which are shot in the countryside with an emphasis on the great outdoors as a sort of rural paradise.  We see thick woods, rushing rivers, herds of goats, and get an idea of a rustic but prosperous community.  Something similar happens at Annikki and Lemminkäinen's wedding: dancing outdoors and crowds of extras for a more naturalistic feel.

This contrasts with the way things are depicted in Pohjola, where Louhi and her trolls make their home.  Here the sets look more like sets, and there is a greater use of painted backdrops – when Joel and the bots describe the field of snakes as 'an El Greco', they've got the right idea.  The Land of Kalevala is supposed to be a version of the real world.  It is romanticized and idealized, but the audience ought to be able to imagine themselves going about an ordinary life within in, complete with the hard work necessary to a pastoral existence.  It is important that all three of the main characters are introduced while doing work: Lemminkäinen is cutting wood, Annikki is doing laundry, and Ilmarinen is working in his forge.

Pohjola, on the other hand, is part of a fantasy, a land of witches and trolls, and looks correspondingly less real.  This extends for the most part to the actions of the characters.  Ilmarinen could not build the Sampo in Kalevala, because it required something (the heavenly fire) only available in the fantasy land of Pohjola.  In Kalevala, Ilmarinen and Lemminkäinen must chop a boat out of a tree. In Pohjola, they are able to forge one in the same fire Ilmarinen already used to make a horse!  And the fantastic Sampo cannot be brought back to the real world of Kalevala in its magical form.  All Lemminkäinen can bring back is a piece of it, which will bring undefined 'good luck' instead of material gold or grain.  When Ilmarinen tries, in Kalevala, to forge a new sun to replace the one Louhi took away, he is told he cannot succeed.

Perhaps this is another reason why the sequence with Lemminkäinen's mom was cut out for the American audience – it is a departure into the purely fantastical, and jars with the otherwise more realistic portrayal of Kalevala.  It also doesn't really affect the plot at all, as illustrated by how easily it is excised in a chunk and how nothing seems to be missing from the narrative as a result.  I presume it was in the movie because it was in the poem, but it doesn't do much.  Imagine the Lord of the Rings movies had included the sequence with Tom Bombadil.  Yeah, it would have been nice for the fans to see, but it doesn't give us anything that recurs in the story, it would have killed the rising tension, and those unfamiliar with the books would have been left sitting there wondering what the hell they just watched.  Annikki's hair telegram does foreshadow the existence of some mild magic in the 'real' world, but the feats of Le Mom Käinen are way beyond that.

The effects used to present these real and unreal worlds are often quite good.  Louhi's cloak sailing along on the wind looks very creepy and purposeful.  The only time it's really silly is when Lemminkäinen fights it off.  The chained-up winds are quite (pardon me) atmospheric, dangling ominously from the cave ceiling as they do – I like that the North Wind's bag is covered in icicles.  The burning horse looks just unearthly enough and the Sampo doesn't look like anything in particular, which helps it remain a little mysterious even when it's right there grinding out gold.  The matte paintings that represent Kalevala buried in snow are a little unreal-looking themselves, but perhaps they represent the fantasy world of Pohjola intruding into the real one of Kalevala, where it can do nothing but harm.

As weird as the movie is, I really did enjoy The Day the Earth Froze, and I'm actually kind of looking forward to watching The Sword and the Dragon now.  You guys can also expect to see Aleksandr Ptushko in the Episodes that Never Were section sometime, not because his films are bad but because I really want to see more of them.

[libralita]

Reread Review!

Title: The Hero of Ages

Author: Brandon Sanderson

Summary: Tricked into releasing the evil spirit Ruin while attempting to close the Well of Ascension, new emperor Elend Venture and his wife, the assassin Vin, are now hard-pressed to save the world. This adventure brings the Mistborn epic fantasy trilogy to a dramatic and surprising climax as Sanderson's saga offers complex characters and a compelling plot, asking hard questions about loyalty, faith and responsibility.

Rating: ★★★★★

Original Review

Review:

I have finished rereading the original Mistborn trilogy! If you haven’t read the Wax and Wayne series or Secret History then I recommend you read my original review instead. I really enjoyed this book because I actually understood what was going on and it didn’t take like nine months to read. It was amazing!

“I am, unfortunately, the Hero of Ages.”—Page 3

I just became an all-powerful god and I saved the world but holy me it sucks blue koloss balls!

Elend has grown up so much.

“The general wore well-used armor of leather and steel, his face bearing a scar on one cheek, the left side of his scalp missing a large patch of hair where a koloss blade had nearly taken his head.”—Page 76

Important.

“Black is so monotonous that you can forget about it, but red—you’d always be thinking, ‘Why, look at that. That hill is red. That evil force of doom trying to destroy me certainly has style’.”—Breeze (Of course), Page 86

Breeze would clearly be the best force of doom.

“‘I’m not convinced there is any ‘evil force of doom’, Breeze,’ Sazed said.”—Page 86

That’s the evil force of doom talking, Sazed.

“‘He didn’t recruit me,’ Cett pointed out. ‘I got pulled by my balls into this little fiasco.’”—Page 107

Like I said before, I do love this asshole.

“‘You’re one of us,’ Human said. Vin looked up. ‘Me?’ ‘You’re like us,’ he said. ‘Not like them.’ ‘Why do you say that?’ Vin asked. Human looked down at her. ‘Mist,’ he said.”—Page 141

Even Human knows.

And now Spook has been stabbed with a hemalurgic spike and sees Kelsier…or “Kelsier”.

“They should never have given children of a new generation to be raised by a Third.”—MeLaan, Page 178

I guess I totally misread MeLaan and TenSoon’s relationship the first time I read this because I thought it was romantic but apparently it’s more parent-child/teacher-student.

“For the greater good.”—Vin, Page 187

The greater good.

So apparently Slowswift is a homage to Tolkien. I also do love Cett use to write poetry.

“Vin said nothing. Belief in the Lord Ruler was misplaced. If he’d been a god, then he wouldn’t have been able to kill him. In her mind, it was rather simple matter.”—Page 230

Actually killing gods in the cosmere is surprisingly easy.

“She picked an informant on the other side of the spectrum—a beggar named Hoid whom Cett claimed could be found in a particular square late a night.”—Page 231

Hi, Hoid. Also Vin, leaving Hoid was a mistake. He could have given you important advice about how to handle Ruin or give the reader more information about the cosmere.

“Gunpowder, for instance, was so frowned upon by Rashek that knowledge of its use disappeared almost as quickly as knowledge of the Terris religion.”—Page 235

Ay, gun reference.

“‘Well, then,’ he said. ‘Let’s do it.’ ‘What?’ Vin asked. ‘Save the world,’ Elend said. ‘Stop the ash.’”—Page 238

A simple task.

“Oh, come on. You have to admit that you’re unusual, Vin. You’re like some strange mixture of a noblewoman, a street urchin, and a cat. Plus, you’ve managed—in our short three years together—to kill not only my god, but my father, my brother, and my fiancée. That’s kind of like a homicidal hat trick. It’s a strange foundation for a relationship, wouldn’t you say?”—Elend, Page 239

This is the greatest and most accurate summary of Vin.

The ball scene is coming and I’m so excited.

“Rashek wore both black and white. I think he wanted to show that he was a duality, Preservation and Ruin. This, of course, was a lie. After all, he had only touched one of the powers—and only in a very small way at that.”—Page 268

Interesting.

“‘Ladies,’ Elend said to the women, ‘as Lady Vin herself will be quick to tell you, I’m rather ill-mannered. That, in itself, would be a very small sin. Unfortunately, I’m also quite unconcerned about my own disregard for propriety. So, therefore, I’m going to steal my wife away from you all and selfishly monopolize her time. I’d apologize, but that’s not the sort of thing we barbarians do.’”—Pages 290-291

I love Elend when he’s at these parties because he’s so sassy.

“At that moment—as the music began—Elend reached into his pocket and pulled out a book. He raised it with one hand, and the other one her waist, and began to read.”—Page 292

He’s also an adorable little shithead.

Allomancy is of Preservation, Hemalurgy is of Ruin and Feruchemy is a balance. Funny.

It’s interesting that Demoux is bring up the 16 number. Is he doing this deliberately? Because y’know worldhopper business.

“‘I am human,’ the large beast said quietly.”—Page 336

Chills.

“Even now, I can barely grasp the scope of all this. The events surrounding the end of the world seem even longer than the Final Empire and the people within it. I sense shards of something from long ago, a fractured presence, something spanning the void. I have delved and searched, and have only been able to come up with a single name: Adonasium. Who, or what, it was, I do not yet know.”—Pages 344-345

This is why we reread.

Vin is really bad figuring out who’s a Mistborn. First she thought Cett was and now Yomen.

“I’ve always been with you. You’ve heard me in your mind since your first years of life.”—Page 406

This is such a good twist.

“He sat down at the table, opening his portfolio, taking out the next sheet in the line. It listed the tenets of the Nelazan people, who had worshipped the god Trell. Sazed had always been partial to this religion because of its focus on learning and study of mathematics and the heavens.  He’d saved it for near the end, but had done so more out of worry than anything else. He’d wanted to put off what he’d known would happen. Sure enough, as he read about the religion, he saw the holes in its doctrines. True, the Nelazan had known a great deal about astronomy, but their teachings on the afterlife were sketchy—almost whimsical. Their doctrine was purposefully vague, they’d taught, allowing all men to discover truth for themselves.”—Page 410

Trell has been mentioned again.

“‘Once we’re done, maybe you could introduce me to the emperor and empress,’ Beldre said. ‘They sound like interesting people.’”—Page 479

Oh, you will meet them…

“Kill him, Ruin’s voice whispered. You can do it. Take a weapon from one of those soldiers, the use it on Yomen.”—Page 489

Why is Ruin acting how he was with Zane? I think a more effective tactic would to still act more like Reen.

“These two minds were, of course, independent of the raw force of their powers. Actually, I am uncertain of how thoughts and personalities came to be attached to the powers in the first place—but I believe they were not there originally. For both powers could be detached from the minds that ruled them.”—Page 490

I guess the shards are corrupting the person who is using them. In Hoid’s letter in Way of Kings it mentions that Ati use to be really nice and then he became Ruin.

“I will kill you, the words said. Death, death, death. ‘Wel…that’s pleasant,’”—Page 495

I am Elend.

“If Elend had waited just a few more minutes on that ashen field, he would have seen a body—short of stature, black hair, prominent nose—fall from the mists and slump dead into the ash. As it was, the corpse was left alone to be buried in ash. The world was dying. Its gods had to die with it.”—Page 499

Bye, Fuzz.

“I have come to see that each power has three aspects: a physical one, which can be seen in the creations made by Ruin and Preservation; a spiritual one in the unseen energy that permeates all of the world; and a cognitive one in the minds which controlled that energy.”—Page 507

Cosmere things!

“Survive!”—Page 525

Hey, Kell.

Elend don’t you dare attack, this is a bad idea.

“So, what if Ruin couldn’t find the storages on his own because of the metal shielding them? He would have needed someone to lead him. Someone to visit each one, read the map it contained, then lead him on… Lord Ruler! We’ve made the same mistake again! We did exactly what he wanted. No wonder he’s let us live!”—Page 571

I literally face-palmed at this realization. God, Ruin is so clever.

“Good lad. You did well, Spook. I’m proud.”—Page 577

Chapter 64 makes a lot more sense after Secret History.

“‘Lady Vin saved my life,’ Goradel said. ‘The night of the Survivor’s rebellion, she could have left me to die at the hands of the mob. She could have killed me herself. But she took the time to tell me that she understood what I’d been through, and convinced me to switch sides. If she needs this information, Survivor, then I will get it to her, or I will die trying.’”—Page 579

Aw, that’s so sad. He’s such a good man.

I can already tell watching Elend and Vin die for a second time…well third if you count Secret History, is going to be a depressing experience.

“‘We will be asking the questions here, Terrisman!’ said one of the aristocratic kandra. Sazed paused, turning. ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, you will not.’”—Page 604

Oh snap.

“The question remains, where did the original prophecies about the Hero of Ages come from? I now know that Ruin changed them, but did not fabricate them. Who first taught that a Hero would come, one who would be an emperor of all mankind, yet would be rejected by his own people? Who first state he would carry the future of the world on his arms, or that he would repair that which had been sundered? And who decided to use the neutral pronoun, so that we wouldn’t know if the Hero was a woman or a man?”—Page 608

Good question. Do we know? Was it Hoid? It was probably Hoid...

“‘I apologize,’ Sazed said. ‘This is a personal problem, not related to the fate of the Hero of Ages.’ ‘Please, speak,’ one of the others said.”—Page 623

We’re a bunch of old farts, we’ll give you some advice to help with your faith crisis.

If the Terris religion is all about Preservation, then is there a religion that’s all about Ruin?

“‘The sliver remains,’ another reminded. ‘The shadow of self.’”—Page 660

Foreshadowing.

“Welcome, Ruin said, to godhood.”—Page 664

Becoming god. Like you do. Okay, this is the cosmere, so it’s not as uncommon as you might think.

“[Ruin] must have known that by giving her a disguised Hemalurgic spike, he would keep the mists from investing themselves in her as they wished.”—Page 680

Invested as in Investiture?

“Then, with his free hand, the kandra reached toward his own shoulder.”—Page 685

I’m so bitter that Vin never got to see her puppy before she died.

“‘In the end, they will kill us,’ Elend said, voice loud, ringing in the cavern. ‘But first, they shall fear us!’”—Page 701

Yeah the second read through is going kill me.

“The axe took of Elend’s head.”—Page 710

Brandon is so evil.

“So few left of the original crew, she thought. Kelsier dead so long ago. Dockson and Clubs slaughtered at the Battle of Luthadel. Yeden dead with his soldiers. OreSeur taken at Zane’s command. Marsh, fallen to become an Inquisitor. And the other who joined us, now gone as well. Tindwyl, TenSoon, Elend…”—Page 711

Brandon does like killing his characters. Also TenSoon aint dead!

“You created the thing that can kill you, Ruin, Vin said. And you just made one huge final mistake. You shouldn’t have killed Elend. You see, he was the only reason I had left to live.”—Page 712

Goodbye world, I’m so depressed.

“Beside her, atop the pile of dead koloss, lay another body. It was that of a man with red hair, one whom Sazed did not recognize, but he ignored it.”—Page 713

Hey, Ati.

“There had been a people known as the Nelazan. They had worshipped the stars, had called them the Thousand Eyes of their god, Trell, watching them.”—Page 716

Trell, again.

“Ruin and Preservation were dead, and their powers had been joined together. In fact, they belonged together. How had they been split?”—Page 718

Ask Hoid, he was there.

The sky is blue and the grass is green.

“At the center of the flowers, he found two people. Vin lay wearing her customary mistcloak, shirt, and trousers. Elend was in a brilliant white uniform, complete with cape. They were holding hands as they lay amid the flowers. And they were both dead.”—Page 723

It’s so sad and beautiful. End me..

[andreasunny]

She Was (Bard the Bowman)

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Bard the Bowman x wife

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, major character death

Here’s a few things you should know before digging into this story:

• Esgaloth means Laketown and T. A. stands for Third Age.

• Bard was born in T. A. 2898 and was ascended to the throne (as the first King of the restored Dale) in T. A. 2944. The story therefore happens between these two turning points.

• The name of his wife was never known, so the name Sigrun was chosen by me and has no particular connection to Tolkien’s depiction of Bard and his life. 

• Bard and his wife had three children: Bain, Sigrid and Tilda. His wife died some time before Smaug attacked Laketown and demolished it (or before Bard’s encounter with Thorin and the Dwarves).

• This story is a work of fiction - meaning no events written here in Bard’s life before The Hobbit actually happened to him and his wife. All that Tolkien has let us know was that the Bowman indeed had a wife (which died) and three children.

• Lastly, the first part of the story represents Bard’s younger years and the meeting with his future wife, Sigrun. With every year, there’ll also be written Bard’s age - for better perception.

❝And your wife, I imagine she is a beauty?❞ ❝Aye. She was.❞

Esgaloth, T. A. 2921 

(Bard is 23)

She stood out.

Within the burnt, crisp houses and ruins of Laketown, she seemed very angelic. Bard had not remembered ever seeing her before and he has been told that the women of the race of Men were not graced with such remarkable beauty as the ones of Elf kind. But in comparison to other ladies of his kind, she stood out gravely. She was different and there was something glowing about her beside such destruction; such elegance.

He seemed star struck, dumbfounded every time his eyes landed on her. 

Esgaloth was severely burnt and there was chaos all around him. But he could not take his stare of the beauty amongst the ashes. She was moving gracefully through all the fire and crisped buildings, picking up the things that were not yet destroyed. Her porcelain face was worried, but there laid calmness across it, to which Bard could not get enough of. It seemed like the entire world could come to an end and he would be looking at her still and he would know, she would bring peace to his heart.

He was a few years over twenty, a young lad with no experiences in love, but as he stood there, both his eyes settled on her, he felt it. The beat his heart skipped and the numb thoughts that could not calm his anxiety. She was too beautiful to be real. Yet she was there, radiating beauty and poise in all her might.

And then she turned her head, her emerald eyes, which he could see shining out despite the distance, locking with his. Bard saw her inspect him for a long moment, before a small smile tugged on her full lips. He felt his mouth drop slightly and when she smirked at his expression, he felt embarrassed. He was acting like a fool around such a goddess.

He swung on his heels quickly, hurrying away from her, but he felt her eyes follow him until he took a turn and she disappeared from his range. He stopped then; leaning on a wooden wall of the half burned down house and inhaled a sharp breath. His eyes closed, his heart beating wildly in his chest. 

It felt like the further away he went the less warm he felt; like all the radiance from her was gone when she could not see him anymore.

When he returned to the same spot later, she was gone. He never saw her that day again and the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach was letting him know, he might just never set his eyes upon her. 

The thought was absolutely devastating.

Esgaloth, T. A. 2923 

(Bard is 25)

It was two years later and the people of Laketown were still trying to recover from the terrible burning on that faithful day. Orcs had come into town, slaughtering many innocent folk and destroying everything on their way.

Bard sighed deeply, nailing a piece of dark, worn-out wood to the hole in his parents' house. They died when he was very young and he got used to living alone. It was difficult and he would never have survived his first years on his own if it weren't for the Laketown people. They helped him and he was forever grateful for it.

So, after the fire, Bard did his best to help them and return their favour. It was a long struggle to recover the town from the reckoning, but they were progressing. Slowly, but thoroughly.

He straightened up, brushing a few sweat drops from his dirty forehead with the back of his hand. His house looked worse every day. It was in need of a serious repair, but he hadn't had the money.

He was about to open the creaking doors to enter the small house, when he saw her. She was standing on the bottom stair of the short wobbly staircase, that lead to his home. Her wide, bright eyes shone out worry. Bard has never seen her hair before, the last he has set his eyes upon her, she had it covered with the hood of her cloak. But, now, as she was standing in front of him, there was no sign of her cloak, her blonde locks dishevelled slightly from the wind and possibly a long travel.

He did not know what to say. She looked troubled, but he could not bring himself to utter a word of sense. When she stepped a stair closer to him, he continued to stare at her face.

"I was told you could help me," she said, her voice sounding like the most beautiful melody. Bard wondered if she was once a siren, her voice enchanting him completely.

"Please, I need your help," she added, her voice then cracking, her eyes quickly lowering to the ground.

That snapped Bard out of his daze and he shook his head to clear his mind. "I do not believe we know each other, my Lady," he began, which made the woman in front of his raise her head.

"Please, call me Sigrun, I am no Lady," she remarked in slight hurry, a tone of bitterness mixing with her voice.

Bard nodded, feeling lost. All he could do was watch her. He spotted a few spots of dirt on her face, but it did not make her any less beautiful and siren-like.

"Come inside," he offered, opening the doors wider. "We can talk better inside," he added, explaining his words as his eyes flicked around. He didn't saw anyone else outside, but he knew better than to trust the sight. People of Laketown had ears and eyes everywhere. Even though they were all good folk, there were some matters better kept private.

Sigrun nodded slowly, taking the hint and walked in. Bard swallowed thickly, following her inside. She turned to him when he closed the doors.

"I know you do not remember me, but..." She started, running her fingers through her tangled curls absentmindedly. "I remember you," she locked her eyes with his and he gulped.

"You do?" He questioned quietly, motioning her to sit. She obeyed and he took a seat across her. He was afraid of coming too close. He still wondered if she truly was there, in his home. It all felt like a beautiful, surreal dream to him.

Sigrun nodded sternly. "When the town got wrecked, I remember seeing you," she sent him a wry smile. "I was with my parents back then; we travelled the lake to trade our goods. But our boat was stolen and when my Father tried to bargain it back, they..." She paused, her lips trembling.

Bard stared at her wide-eyed, waiting for her to continue, but he feared she would break. She looked like a fragile porcelain doll.

"They killed him but my Mother and I fled." She looked up at him as he sighed sadly.

"I am sorry," he muttered out, his eyes shining out concern.

"Thank you," she whispered, clearing her throat to regain her posture.

"We – we tried to stay here and make a living, but it was impossible for two lonely women with no money. I worked hard to keep my Mother safe, but she got sick anyway. I couldn't help her."

Bard knew she was about to break finally. Her figure was crouched down, shoulders sunken as if she wanted to make herself as tiny as possible.

"She passed away a few weeks ago and ever since then I was trying to find you," she looked up again, straightening up. It felt like she suddenly found a strange power to recollect herself. It amazed Bard.

"I know I am asking a lot, but you are my last hope," she pleaded, smiling bitterly then. "Here I am asking you for aid when I do not even know your name."

"Bard," he spoke up, trying to sound calm. "I'm Bard."

She smiled again, her attempt to create a pleasant smile failing. She took in a deep breath. It was like she was fighting an inner battle. "Maybe I should not have come," she stood up and their eyes locked when he mimicked her act quickly.

"You did the right thing," Bard hurried with his words. He could not let her leave in the state she was in. And he wanted to help her. She would not even have to ask at all. He would do it still.

She gave him a questioning look.

"I can help you," he explained, smiling.

He stepped closer, his hand finding hers. "I will help you, Sigrun."

The smile of relief that appeared on her face as he said those words was enough for Bard to admit to himself he has fallen in love with this woman the first day he laid his eyes upon her.

More one shots: masterlist

[stevecoleridge-posts]

SPANISH LOCKDOWN …DAY14

Saturday night s all right for fighting.. on Facebook of course,

i was just casting my mind back to a Ninurta  Night , as there called their Saturdays Night in Uruk, capital of Sunny Sumeria, and  imagining what a great time they were probably having 5000 years ago , getting pissed on the local beer, because they invented that ,as well as the seven day week. Of course they did nt have Netflix, but they got to go out more..i don’t have Netflix either , yet , but have axs to lots of stuff including Music documentaries , which we are watching in order , chronological order that is..starting with The Birth of Country music .. and Mr Ralph Peers,from new York, who looked a little like Brian Epstein by the way , who set up a temporary recording studio above  furniture shop, there you go agin , NEMs , well no, it was nt , but anyway I digress, and into this temporary Studio  walked The Carter Family..3 of them .. and Jimmie Rogers.. yes.. that Jimmie Rogers , the Singing brakeman..i mean ,Okay , i can hear you mumbling about Sam Phillips, and the Chess brothers etc.. but this was Bristol, Tennessee/Virginia..a place no-one who doesn’t live round there has heard of..its like discovering the Beatles and the Rolling Stones..or rather signing them..   After that we watched a newish doc about the King , E.V. Presley..and it was mad by some guys driving round America in his Rolls royce..great stuff   That led to the Fab Four , Eight days a Week.. which was about their touring years and the whole world has seen it except me… its absolutely.. the F word , second letter A..anyway this time 55 years ago they were filming Help. inSt Margarets..Twickenham..and taking photos for the infamous Butcher cover , in the Vale , Chelsea, where my first nursery school was located..ah well.. don’t want to get too carried away on Beatles Lore..or i ll bore you to death , because i don’t mind admitting i am well versed in that subject…   The Beatles represented the 60s in the same way Elvis represented the 50 s…and someone told a story about how the disgusting Colonel Parker, in inverted commas,used to put a cover over Elvis Cadillac so the girls could nt see him when he drove on to the Movie lot in hollywood… well once the Beatles arrived the Colonel still put the cover on , so Elvis could nt see there were no longer any girls..A sad figure..but  his mantle of  loneliness was later to be worn by Michael jackson and especially Prince..Do these Royal titles always end with a solitary death on the loo or in a Lift

From there we moved too the Seventies… and surely the quintessential Seventies hero is Bowie..well now it so alluringly sunny outside ill have to go and play guitar on the terrace .. and leave David for another time..

No i don’t want to see the News..

DAY 15..Sunday…

The clocks have gone on to sensible time..even in lockdown this is cheerful news.. I was wondering how long it will take for people with imaginary ailments to return to their plastic chairs in Hospital waiting rooms throughout the Western world.. these people presumably will be the ones most frightened of Covid 19..there s nothing imaginary about that..but if you have ME and you re lying on the sofa all day, and you feel depressed , and your bones are aching etc.. well how do feel different from everyone else..and as for food intolerance .. that should be interesting when the statistics come in about consumption in Supermarkets..i know there are allergies and allergies.. but the possibility of imminently drowning in ones own mucus does concentrate the mind wonderfully, and a lot of people will find themselves in the second category once shortages begin of certain previously essential items..suddenly one has to be tolerant of a whole raft of things one had previously considered unacceptable ..two weeks ago i could not have imagined four days without bread.. but its no big deal.. onions likewise..thats what happens when you shop with no list.. bit like going on stage without a playlist.. its a gamble … it can produce unexpected benefits in that you try stuff you had nt tried before.. but you often forget the best songs..

We watched the film about the Kursk, the Submarine which was on the seabed and owing to bureaucracy and politics the Crew were allowed to die..even though t5here was a foreign Ship with equipment nearby that could have saved them.. reminds me of something..are we the mariners or are we the mariners wives?

Does the Chinese government have a cure? are they just waiting for the US economy to completely collapse?..Will we ever know?

Day 16

Each day just goes so fast , i turn around , it s past..

One of my fave tracks from Revolver..anyway playing in E7 , as usual , in fact I’ve been stuck in E 7 since Lockdown started..Catfish , Smokestack lighting ,Good Morning Blues , Take Out Some Insurance..however now the time has come to expand ..and try Freight train..the classic finger picking song..so ,if i observe radio silence for a while you ll know why..

Saw the news…The government had adopted some economic measures which seemed very well thought out , in the sense they were are determined not to let the mistakes of the last crisis , where the poorest people got the rawest deal. I won’t go into details , its all online if you re interested..it was more a sensation than anything  logical , but it made me feel a bit less pessimistic for the first time in a few weeks,i found i was nt thinking about Death quite as much , even in the abstract. that may sound overdramatic , but i think everybody is thinking about it subconsciously a great deal more than they were, say, last Christmas..well actually in our particular situation , where we had been frequenting cancer wards and the like , maybe i should go back to 2018…but  the awarerness of death affects every facet of how you think about everything else..i don’t just mean concentrating the mind wonderfully..anyway its half past two, and tomorrow ill probably delete all this..The gist was that for some reason things don’t feel quite so bleak..

Day 17

Yesterday was a 3 own a scale of  ten as far as ding anything worthwhile was concerned. After watching a film i unreservedly recommend..The vanishing.. about  3 men who disappeared from a Scottish island where they were repairing th elighthouse , i watched Tolkien , the movie about one of my heroes , but not one of Auroras heroes apparently as she fell asleep during the first reel, so to speak, anyway she s not huge Tolkien fan , having been made to sit through the fellowship of the ring seven times..be that as it may , the sofa is not designed for sleeping comfortably so she had a severely cricked neck the next morning and stayed in bed, leaving Tina and i to our own devices..this meant i ate a packet of chocolate biscuits for brunch and did nt eat again till midnight , which goes to show how lucky I am not to be on my own.

  to entertain myself between bouts of fingerpicking i decided to9 look up on google what English people disliked the most.. while i did nt find the answer to this question i did get seriously sidetracked and found out the answers to several more pressing questions about Europe,and i m proud to say the british isles scored very highly

The Dirtriest City..Yay .. London The Ugliest people..The British and the irish  and the Germans ..okay , so we cant beat the Germans but at least we drew The Rudest people..That was easy..The French win every time, when i lived in  Paris  i prided myself on becoming Parisian, and adopting local customs , but one day , in a moment of absent mindedness , and for a subconscious second imagining myself in Spain , i said Good Morning to my next door neighbour, a short fellow with a mop of dark hair and glasses, who i passed on my way to the metro in Boulevard St . Germain… i am not a Physiognomist.. he replied…i made a not e of that , hoping i could use the phrase Je ne suit pas Phisionome, myself on some future occasion..but sadly , said opportunity has not arisen. Most boring City..Brussels .. for the third year running…Hasve nt these people been to Oslo? Most Friendly Country..wait for it… Scotland..most friendly capital .. Dublin Worst Cuisine..Malta , tied with Kosovo Best ..Italy Most Beautiful Women ..Norway ..and Bulgaria..i would have voted for Madrid..but you cant argue with Norway Most ignorant Country in Europe ..italy. Most Rapes..Sweden..well that was no surprise..however i won’t analyse those statistics or Ill be done for Isamolophobia Most ignorant country in the World ..Indonesia Most depressed ..World..China , India, Brazil,..what??..USA.. and Bangladesh Most mental Illness..Estonia,Belarus , Russia Most Obese Europe..Yes We won agin .. Britain

And so on .. there was more , i could nt stop , but i did check the criteria..and obviously ruled out anything from the Daily Mail or the Independent.. which are not really newspapers at , but sheets of opinions conforming to the prejudices of their readers.

When i got tired of this i got the Scythe out of the tree and  cut the grass for half an hour .. feeling like a peasant woman in Quiet Flows The Don..its quite restful when you get in rhythm. Aurora was still ill so i made her some chicken soup.. well , packet chicken soup with some noodles and chicken added.. anyway , she did nt eat it .. so i had it saved for my supper.. I did nt watch TV..i could nt be bothered to work out how turn it on to be honest , thats how lazy i felt, and i just sat by the fire and went through all the fingerpicking songs again.

Spanish lockdown..Day 18

Aurora s feeling a wee bit better, but cant eat anything , so cannot take Iboprufen, or whatever it is in English ..but says she could probably handle bread.. so..that means a trip to the heart of Fukushima, err..well ...on with the masks , gloves etc  and to the shop in El Llano.. small village near here , a lot more isolated than Carboneras..I was feeling fairly confident as i trundled along the track  , that the town hall had tarmacked before some election or other..anyway , rounding a corner there was a woman of un certain age in the road waving me down,.,.

What to do?…You re are not allowed passengers , plus she was not wearing gloves or a mask..

Should i observe the Law, or basic good manners? i d vaguely recognised her.. and had she she been a total stranger i would have passed on by , but , hell , she was Local, so i had to pick her up..

She did nt recognise me.. obviously , as i was wearing a cap , two masks with a scarf on top, and polo neck unrolled over the bottom half of my face , like a character in the Bash Street Kids..an way i had the window down , and was almost sticking my head out as i drove..

@ Chilly out @.. she observed…

i pretended not to understand this hint that i should close the window..

@ Do you think it s going to rain ? @

@ I  think probably not @

@All these people with masks @  she observed ,as a car squeezes by us, going in the opposite direction . I began to wonder if she knew there was  such a thing as Covid 19,and  saw the driver  studying us..I was hoping he  would nt recognise me either.. and was weighing up whether what i was doing would meet with his approval. i.e. helping a distressed local, or would be considered a breach of community sprit. On coming into the village we received more enigmatic looks..and i  felt uneasy as i got out in front of the shop and followed her to the door … pausing  to read the safety notices outside.and thus give her a head start . i won’t reproduce them ..wherever you are you ve probably seen the equivalent..anyway ,no sooner did i enter the shop than she was next to me selecting suit and veg..and ignoring safe distancing, which i agree was academic , as we d just been in much too close proximity,..thus forcing me to leave the fruit and go and study the options in frozen fish..while she was having a conversation wi the owner

  @ Do you think it will rain?@   @ Its chilly out @ etc..

As we went about our purchasing i saw more and more foodstuffs i would nt normally consider..and soon had over a weeks supply..which , considering how much we already had at home made me hope this lockdown was going to go on for  a while ..or otherwise id feel a fool .. no , i did nt really think that.. Much as i wanted to prolong my shopping experience there was queue forming outside , so felt obliged to go more quickly that i would have liked..especially as i hoped to delay long enough not to have to take the woman back to her house..vainly as it turned out as she was a quarter of a mile along the track when i was obliged to pick her up again..

We passed the garbage truck.in a lay-by. @ My nephew..@ she explained..I began to feel id made the right decision..as i doubted she d been more than a mile from her house in the past few months… nonetheless i observed full protocol on arriving home..even disinfecting the car having a shower and putting all my clothes in the machine.

[natakova15-blog]

IndieView with N.H. Roncolato, author of The Redemption of Brian O'Connor

The Internet told me that all authors should have a target audience, but I feel that my book is accessible for anyone to read. Both men and women, young and old, have read and liked my book. 

N.H. Roncolato – 30 November 2017

The Back Flap

The lands of Northern Caltus are consumed by war; a war that has raged for three bloody decades. The expansionist aggression of the Empire of Elriol is only countered by the defiance of the young khan of the Korghum Khanate, and the two are locked in a desperate struggle for hegemony.

Into this steps the disavowed assassin, Brian O'Connor, once a servant but now his own master. A man with a sordid past, Brian seeks the end of Elriol by any means, even if he must bare blade alongside former enemies to see it done.

In his quest for retribution against the Emperor of Elriol, Brian finds a deeper meaning to life that causes him to question all that he knows. Yet the choices that he makes leave him torn between the retribution that he seeks or the redemption that he needs.

His story, one of courage and strength, cunning and sacrifice, will shatter the foundations of Northern Caltus. A new era in the world begins to the gunfire of Brian O'Connor.

About the book

What is the book about?

This is always the hardest question to answer.  How to condense a sweeping epic into a paragraph or two?  Ultimately, The Redemption of Brian O'Connor is one man's journey to reconcile with his past and find a future to move towards, and all the complexities within that.  It is also about the struggle against tyranny, the fervent will to stand against injustice, and the bitter sorrow that comes from war.  It is about the brotherhood that is forged in conflict and the ideals that unite us as humans, extending beyond the borders of nations.  It is also about a journey to faith.  I saw this book as a way to explore meaning in life and the individual paths that we all take, and for me that meant looking at the role God and faith play in our lives.

When did you start writing the book?

I began writing this book on a complete whim (or divine guidance) in March of 2010.  I was struck by the idea for Brian O'Connor and so began typing.  I actually started writing the second chapter, only adding the first chapter much later.

How long did it take you to write it?

All-in-all, after all the edits were done, it took me almost seven years to write it.  It was a long, long process, as I had no idea what writing a book like this was going to take or how much work was involved.  I took a lot of wrong turns in the process, but I feel like I came out stronger, forged in the fires of writing and cleansed from ignorance.  At least, that's what I like to think happened.

Where did you get the idea from?

The idea for this book really began with the characters.  Many, many years ago, while sitting around hanging out with friends, I first created one of the characters that ended up being in this book.  It was my ideal of what a real man was; an ideal based on intelligence and strength.  Years later, I tried unsuccessfully to put a story about him on paper.  Even so, the story refused to leave me until I finally started this book.  It was adding in humanity that made this story work where the others had failed.

Were there any parts of the book where you struggled?

Yes, definitely. Before writing this book, I had no idea what went in to writing a sweeping epic.  It was a baptism of fire, and I had more than my share of hair-pulling and table-flipping before I figured things out.  That said, I would say that my biggest struggle was with the meaning of the narrative.  It's one thing to write an awesome story, but I wanted a deeper connection than that.  Figuring out what to use and how to add it was the most difficult part.

What came easily?

I would say the easiest part was the ending.  It was a struggle for a moment to figure out exactly how the book was going to end, but once I settled on it, it remained fixed.  It was the sum of all the things that I consciously tried to do and those things that seemed to happen accidently.

Are your characters entirely fictitious or have you borrowed from real world people you know?

All of my characters are fictional, specifically the final versions.  I had made the mistake of trying to include my friends in as characters in the earlier versions of the story, and that fell flat on its face.  So I stuck with fictional people.  However, some of the names that I used for characters have historical importance that pertain to their roles, so the answer is yes and no, I guess.

We all know how important it is for writers to read. Are there any particular authors that have influenced how you write and, if so, how have they influenced you?

Yes.  The list is quite long, but there were a few major influences that I will happily acknowledge.  I was heavily influenced by the father of modern fantasy, J.R.R. Tolkien.  The Christian themes that ran through his masterful work The Lord of the Rings, the characters therein, and his rich use of description resonated deeply with me.  I was also influenced by The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, which is attributed to Luo Guanzhong.  Aside from the scale of that saga, the way characters interacted and the epic sweep of the themes and the timelessness within them have always been fixed in my mind.  A third major influence would be Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai. Gasp!  That's not a book!  Yes, I know, but I found his story telling and character-driven narrative to be inspirational and formative for the realism and characters that I sought to bring to life in my own story.  Last but not least, I was also influenced by Steven Pressfield's The Gates of Fire, which floored me with such realistic battle descriptions and cultural insights.

Do you have a target reader?

Again, a very hard question.  The Internet told me that all authors should have a target audience, but I feel that my book is accessible for anyone to read.  Both men and women, young and old, have read and liked my book.  However, given that there are some scenes of violence, I would say that this book is generally not for young children.  Other than that, anyone who is interested in reading really good books would be what I consider my target reader.

About Writing

Do you have a writing process? If so can you please describe it?

I do now.  When I started writing, however, I did not.  I wrote at random with no organization, and as you could guess, that was a painful and inefficient way to write.  Now, I try to write something everyday.  I do work full time and am a husband and father of two, so I don't always have a lot of time to write.  Still, when I can I do, and when I do I try to write a chapter at a time.  I like to write chronologically, but sometimes a passage or word strikes me and I leap ahead to jot it down real quick.  One thing about my process, though: I don't read while I am writing.  I find it helps me maintain my own voice while I write.

Do you outline? If so, do you do so extensively or just chapter headings and a couple of sentences?

Again, I do now.  When I started writing this book, I did not and suffered for it.  My eye's twitching just thinking about it.  Now, though, I do outline.  And plan.  I am currently writing the sequel and have planned out the story arc by chapter, with a few notes for what happens in each chapter.

Do you edit as you go or wait until you've finished?

This has changed for me as well.  When I wrote this story, I kept stopping and going back and editing what I had written.  It was pretty chaotic and began to feel like I wasn't getting anywhere.  So towards the end of writing, I refused to start a new edit until I had finished my previous one.

Did you hire a professional editor?

I did.  I got what I paid for: a cursory look at my work.  If I had been willing to pay more, I probably would have gotten more bang for my buck.  As it was, I ended up doing a lot of the editing myself.

Do you listen to music while you write? If yes, what gets the fingers tapping?

I do.  I find it helps me to focus and it also drowns out most of the noise around me.  I really like artists like Lecrae, KB, and Andy Mineo, and metal bands like War of Ages and For Today.

About Publishing

Did you submit your work to Agents?

Yes, I did.  Unsuccessfully, too.

What made you decide to go Indie, whether self-publishing or with an indie publisher? Was it a particular event or a gradual process?

It was a gradual process.  I thought I would find an agent eventually, but after a while (and a number of prayers) I realized that agents were not looking for a book like mine.  My book is 150,000 words, its not specifically YA, and is from a new author.  There was too much risk for them so they bypassed me.  Once I realized this, I began the process of self-publishing.

Did you get your book cover professionally done or did you do it yourself?

I tried doing it myself a few times (I have a blog about it, actually) but ended up commissioning a piece by an awesome artist who goes by Xia Taptara.  He did the cover image, and I then composed the rest using AffiinityDesigner.

Do you have a marketing plan for the book or are you just winging it?

If the rest of this interview is any indication, I am winging it.  I tried a few things, like reaching out to influencers and promoting my book on social media, but things sometimes work and sometimes don't.

Any advice that you would like to give to other newbies considering becoming Indie authors?

It is not an easy journey.  Be sure of yourself and the vision that you have, but remember to at least hear advice.  Take it with a grain of salt, but at least hear it.

About You

Where did you grow up?

My dad was in the Navy, so I moved around a lot.  Mississippi, California, Virginia, Japan, Maine, Florida; all I called home.

Where do you live now?

Now I live with my wife and two kids in Los Angeles, California.

What would you like readers to know about you?

I studied Global Affairs in college, with an emphasis on East Asia.  I use that in my writing as much as possible, something that I never thought I would be doing.  When you are called to something, you have to answer.

What are you working on now?

Right now I am working on the sequel to The Redemption of Brian O'Connor.  I'm already a few chapters in to the writing process, and I hope to have the first draft finished in a few months.

End of Interview:

For more from N.H. Roncolato visit his website or follow him on Twitter.

Get your copy of The Redemption of Brian O'Connor from Amazon US and Amazon UK.