timetravelingpigeon

[timetravelingpigeon]

June 9th again, huh? How did that happen? And I just started writing again after a months-long dry period that started, well, not too long after the last June 9th. Even finished a scene. Hm. Something about the season I suppose.

Speaking of, brace yourselves, I’ve got more excerpts incoming. They’ll likely be in no particular order, probably posted on no particular schedule, and will definitely have no particular beginning or ending point in mind. I just have a vague need to get my blog back up and running... this damn story is my one point of stability in this, er, interesting year.

*whispers loudly* Also, I crave validation.

[timetravelingpigeon]

listen I ended up regretting saying anything about this on my old blog because people will interpret literally any and every statement maliciously on this hellsite but I want to start like. a helpline for people who are like “hey I pretty much only read YA but I’m like 22 now and don’t relate to teenagers as much, it’s such a shame that there are no fun books written for adults :(” because boy HOWDY are there some fun books for adults 

[timetravelingpigeon]

What’s wrong with post-apocalyptic sci-fi? I’m not sure if it’s been talked about yet or not.

there’s nothing inherently wrong with it, the problem is that SO MUCH of sci-fi is now just…post apoc bullshit. even when it’s about space, it’s alien invasion or genocide by ai, or corporate dytopia.

there are no hopeful futures, and we need those stories to keep going

[timetravelingpigeon]

Update

One, still alive, safe at home, telecommuting and enjoying the extra three-ish hours a day that’s giving me. Fortunate to be doing pretty well, all things considered.

Two, trying to participate in Camp NaNoWriMo (hey, I didn’t say which NaNo I’d be seeing you all again.) Unfortunately, the emphasis is on trying. Which leads me into three:

Let me tell you guys, writing a story centered heavily about a disease-based apocalypse in NYC is... really uncomfortable right about now. A solid 20% of me is thinking of just dropping the whole thing. Another 40% is calling for major rewrites to lessen the non-zombie-based stress I’m putting Team Time Travel through.

Because... listen, I’m going to be honest with you all, I was already having debates with myself on how straight and bleak I was going to play The Outbreak way before all of this happened. Well, now I have my damn answer: anything short of depressingly realistic seems naive and dismissive. And I’m not sure how I feel about that. I’m not even sure I can write that.

Granted, the exact details of the situation have some notable differences (namely the strict confinement to the island; the black-ops team hunting our heroes; and, you know, the monsters.) There are also a few factors that will let the crew dodge around some of the effects of the lockdown. And I’ve made the executive decision to have the emergency responders and relief organizations be as competent, well-stocked, and efficient as I can get away with. But... still gonna be horrible, still gonna hit home for a lot of people. (Hm. Col’s content warning is now valid across timelines. That’s somehow darkly amusing.)

My first instinct is to pivot to something else, but the good old sunk-cost fallacy prevents me from really considering it. Plus... my dudes, whilst I have a metric boatload of OC’s, and an equivalent number of settings they live in, I have only the barest scraps of a plot for any of them. At best.

Screw it, I’m just going to write some scenes of Col snooping around. I’ve got a couple I’ve been slowly hammering away at for the last couple of months. Maybe I’ll post them here when they’re done.

Otherwise, expect radio silence, I guess. My mental health is kinda demanding that I try to avoid social media. Stay safe, y’all.

[timetravelingpigeon]

Dawn of the First Day

-- 2378 Hours Remain* --

*Your millage may vary

[[RESET]] [ ∞ / ∞ ]

[real talk under the readmore]

So... here’s the deal: the reason I’ve dropped off the face of the Earth outside of these excerpts is because I haven’t had much time, or energy, or even general willpower these last couple of months or so. Going from a part-time job to a full-time one will do that to you. (Especially when your commute, round trip, adds another three hours onto your day. Yikes.) Hell, this post sat in my drafts for over a month because I couldn’t edit it on Tumblr Mobile (damn readmores.)

I haven’t really been writing much either, but that’s secondary to all this.

As you could probably tell by the fact that the excerpts all have definite numbers, this is the last you’ll hear from this story for a while. Don’t worry, you’re not missing much; I have all of three scenes after this in the current draft, and the first version has been rendered utterly useless by some major rewrites of the default timeline.

I’ll try to roll back around for NaNoWriMo, but until then? Expect radio silence.

There was probably more I wanted to say, but my head’s a bit fuzzy at the moment and I didn’t want to put this off any longer. Again, sitting in here for over a month.

[timetravelingpigeon]

Excerpt: The Life and Life and Life of a Time Traveling Pigeon

In Which Everyone Finds the Next Step Forward

[[PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT]] [ 33 / 33 ]

After a pause, she turned her attention to me. “Okay, Time Traveler, you got anything to add? Why were you so fucking desperate to convince me earlier?”

Suddenly put on the spot, I floundered for an answer. Because, see, I couldn’t tell her that it was because I wanted her to escape the island before it was quarantined. Because, as it stood, Dr. Tanner was going to be coming with us, and there was no way in fuck I was going to help him get onto the mainland. No. I am not setting this bastard loose.

“Um, because, um… Manhattan is going to be kind of a dangerous place this weekend. I wanted to get us somewhere safe while we waited for it to blow over.”

“What do you mean by ‘safe?’” she asked.

“Listen, between all these armed goons running around and the sundry shootings and explosions that are going to happen over the next couple of days… I was afraid you were going to get hurt in the chaos.” I looked aside, lowering my voice. “You do get hurt in the chaos. You die in the chaos.”

Wait.

“Or… I thought you did. You might have also been captured by these BlueCell guys. All I knew is that nobody heard from you again after tonight. We all thought you’d been in Pennsylvania Station during th—”

I was going to pretend to be ignorant about the details of the attack (mostly because the man responsible was within earshot and I didn’t want him to know that I knew,) but Dr. Tanner himself provided a convenient conversation stopper in the form of another migraine… or whatever it was. It was less severe (he managed to keep his balance this time,) but it was clearly present all the same.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Morgan?”

“Maybe?” He let out one last quiet grunt. “My head just fucking hurts.”

“Might be all the lead you’ve been eating tonight,” I snarked.

Dr. Tanner’s vaguely confused look was all I needed to know that the joke had gone so far over his head you could practically hear the whoosh. I guess the amnesia knocked out his sarcasm sensors, too. Or the headaches. Really, what is up with those?

Eh, then again, maybe it just wasn’t all that funny; Riley didn’t react much, either.

Instead, she asked, “So, let me get this straight. You thought I’d died, so you went back in time to try to save me?”

“Kind of? It’s complicated. It’s also…” I leaned over to check Riley's phone clock. “Past midnight. And thanks to everything that’s happened tonight, I’m about ready to collapse. Do you guys have any ideas for somewhere a bit more, um, long-term we can go?”

I was going to suggest my hotel room (I had no idea how I’d get a wanted terrorist past reception, but we were all flying by the seat of our pants at this point.) To my surprise, though, Riley supplied an answer.

“Yeah, I think I know a place. A couple of friends of mine, they’re off on some sort of missionary work in fucking Patagonia or something, so they left me the keys to their apartment. They wanted me to check in every now and again for them. Water the plants, dust a bit, make sure the place hasn’t caught fire, that sort of shit. It’s up in Midtown, about a mile and a half from here. If we can make it there, it’ll work. There’s just one problem, though.”

“What?” he asked.

She groaned, “I don’t have the fucking key with me. It was on my keychain. We’d have to go back to my apartment to get it, if those goose-stepping fucks didn’t just steal it. Fuck, they’re probably turning the place upside down right about now, looking for evidence or whatever the fuck they can get their greasy, trigger-happy fingers on.”

I raised a hand. “Actually, I can pick locks.”

“Seriously?” she said, flatly.

I shifted nervously under their combined stares. “It’s a long story.”

Taking a deep breath, Riley pushed herself back upright. Running her hand through her hair (wincing when she accidentally brushed the bruise,) she said, “Alright. Alright… I think we have a plan. Morgan, do you think you can get us there safely? You seem to have a handle on this sneaking around shit.”

“I’ll try.”

“Not very confidence-inspiring, but we don’t have many options right now. Col, how's your ankle? You think you can walk that far?”

Gingerly, I tried putting weight on the affected leg, and found that it held. It wasn’t great, and by the time we arrived I’d likely want to beat the everloving fuck out of it, myself, and reality (not necessarily in that order.) But, point was, I could walk on it, and at a reasonable pace, from what I could tell. And since just about anything was better than being carried around by Dr. Tanner, I gave her a thumbs-up.

“Good. Okay. We can do this,” she said, pulling the hood of her jacket up over her head. (I mirrored her motion; might as well go three-for-three.) “I’ll feed you directions as we go, Morgan. If we are where I think we are, it should be almost a straight shot north.”

He nodded, then stepped back outside the room and into the tunnel, motioning for us to follow.

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[timetravelingpigeon]

Excerpt: The Life and Life and Life of a Time Traveling Pigeon

In Which Everyone Continues to Speak up

[[PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT]] [ 32 / 33 ]

Before either of them could reply further, I said, “Okay, now that my weirdness is out in the open, let me ask a question.” I turned to Dr. Tanner. “Why the heck do you have superpowers?”

“Yeah, care to explain that, Morgan?”

“Look, I…” He paused, shaking his head. “I don’t remember. Anything. I woke up in some sort of morgue about to get fucking autopsied, ran out, and then these BlueCell people started trying to kill me. I have no idea what happened, what’s going on, or anything, really.

…

Okay, either this son of a bitch was lying through his teeth, or things had somehow gotten even stranger. I mean, amnesia? Really? If it weren’t for the seemingly genuine confusion and frustration in his voice, I would have immediately called it some sort of ploy. But since they did seem genuine… fuck.

He sighed. “Riley, I need your help.”

“Yeah, no shit.” She exhaled a sharp breath. “God, I know you were saying something fucked up was going on at CytoCen, but… Christ, Morgan, what the fuck happened to you?”

His only response was to shrug.

With one more sigh, Riley turned to look at me. “Col, I’m not sure I want to talk about this with you just sitting here, but I guess you’re on these BlueCell bastards’ shit list with the rest of us, so I might as well.”

(Again, that wasn’t the name she used for me back then. And, again, my story, my rules. The original has been lost to time, anyway, so who the hell even cares?)

“Morgan, you came to me to help you research that whole fucked up company. I’ve been poking around for almost a month trying to get you information. Then a week ago you just fucking dropped off the face of the Earth.” She gestured broadly, coming just a little too close to smacking me in the face with an outstretched arm. “I thought you’d fucking died, Morgan! You don’t remember any of that?”

“No,” he answered.

“Nothing? At all?”

He shook his head. “What was I looking for?”

“Honestly, I’m not even sure you really knew what you were looking for. All you told me was that you thought there were some sort of shadowy, off-the-books projects going on that you wanted to find out about, and I was the only one you could trust.”

Oh, god damn it, not more conspiracy bullshit.

“That,” she continued, “and you wanted as much dirt as possible on the Director of Research.”

It was at that moment that Dr. Tanner suddenly let out a pained groan and clutched his head with one hand, eyes shut tight and teeth clenched in a grimace. Almost immediately, Riley reached out to help steady him as he staggered back a step, bumping up against the far wall. Then, as swiftly as it had come on, the episode passed, leaving him looking vaguely dazed.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I think so.” With a brief shake of his head, he resumed his original track. “Do you know why I was trying to find that? Or how I got tipped off in the first place?”

“No, not really. I assumed you were planning on playing whistleblower, but you never outright said it. All I know is that, after not seeing you in four years, you just suddenly showed up at my door, saying that you thought something fucked up was going on at the company you were working at, and that you needed my help to figure it out.”

“I work at CytoCen?” he asked.

“Yeah. They hired you practically the second you were handed your diploma. I guess you must have impressed them.”

His confusion only deepened. “My diploma?”

“Masters in Genetics.” She cracked a smile. “Which means people get to call you ‘Doctor Tanner,’ you fucking nerd.”

A short, “huh,” was his only response, before he fell silent and presumably mulled this new information over.

“So,” Riley ventured, “you really don’t remember anything?”

“Not a goddamn thing.”

“Fuck,” she exhaled.

He didn’t seem to quite know what to do with that. “Sorry?”

“No, no,” she said, waving him off (at least, as well as she could in these tight quarters.) “Don’t be sorry. We’ll figure this shit out.”

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[timetravelingpigeon]

Excerpt: The Life and Life and Life of a Time Traveling Pigeon

In Which Everyone Finally Speaks Up

[[PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT]] [ 31 / 33 ]

After scanning the area with her phone’s light one last time, she swore as loud as she dared (and, even then, flinched at the sound of it.) Then, she said:

“What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Dr. Tanner replied, casting another worried glance towards the entrance. “I’m sort of making this up as I go along.”

With a long, exhausted sigh, she slumped against the wall beside me, briefly wiping at her face.

“Jesus,” she said, “who the fuck were those people?”

“BlueCell,” he answered, and I immediately started branding that name into my memory. “They’re some sort of… I don’t know. Some sort of top-secret spec ops organization.”

“Is that what they’re called?” Both of them turned to look at me, almost as if they’d forgotten that I was here. “I’ve actually seen them before.”

“You have? Where?” he asked.

“I… okay. Riley, you know how I was telling you I’m a time traveler? I’m a time traveler.”

In unison, they replied, “Bullshit.” Like brother, like sister, I guess.

“I mean it. I’ve been seeing them all over the city tonight. Usually,” I pointed to Dr. Tanner, “shooting at you. Without a care in the world for collateral damage, might I add.”

“No, that’s complete bullshit,” Riley protested, whispering harshly. “You’ve been with me since five-thirty!”

“They’re right, though,” said Dr. Tanner. “That did happen.”

(By the by, that wasn’t the pronoun he used for me at the time, but I’m the one writing this story, so I get to edit that shit in post.)

“They could have just guessed. Those fuckers weren’t exactly happy to see you, either, so it’s not much of a leap to assume that they want your ass, too.”

“That’s not all I’ve seen.” 

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, tilting my head back and trying my damnedest to radiate as many “I’m a fucking oracle” vibes as I could.

“It’s a little after ten-thirty. I’m at the intersection of Fortieth and Seventh, standing in a comic book shop, and I start hearing this awful commotion heading my way.

“Enter: you, Doctor Tanner. You’re sprinting down the street, with a military helicopter right behind you, firing wildly. It launches a shot, a rocket. It doesn’t hit you dead-on, but it almost sends you sprawling all the same. In response, you decide to throw a taxi at the dang thing. It crashes, creates a big wreck in the middle of the street, and you high-tail it out of there.” I opened my eyes. “I spot you intermittently from there on out until about eleven-ish, then you drop off my radar.”

Again, in unison, they gave a soft, “What the fuck?” (albeit likely for subtly different reasons.)

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[timetravelingpigeon]

Excerpt: The Life and Life of a Time Traveling Pigeon

In Which Columba Notices Just How Odd Morgan Is

[[PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT]] [ 30 / 33 ]

Now that the adrenaline had completely bled away, and I wasn’t feeling as much like I’d been punched in the face, I was finally able to take actually register what I was seeing. Specifically, two major things about Dr. Tanner stood out clear as day, even in the dim light.

First, you know how every time I’ve been able to get a decent look at him, I’ve mentioned that he looked consistently roughed up? As in, “half-a-dozen gunshot wounds, big ol’ cut on his face, and plenty of blood?” Yeah, there was currently no trace of that on him whatsoever. The gash on his face had healed without even leaving behind a scar. His hoodie was both completely intact and as grey as the day it’d been bought. And I got the feeling that, had I been completely and utterly insane enough to try, if I’d unzipped it and unbuttoned the shirt beneath, I’d find no evidence that he’d ever been shot.

(Hold on a sec, folks; I need a moment to get that image out of my head.)

Now, the super-fast and super-perfect healing I could easily pass off as being one of his superpowers. The lack of blood was a bit harder to explain, but, who knows, maybe he found a way to wash it out between when I saw him last and now. The bullet holes disappearing, though? Sure, he could have changed into a new set of clothes, but if I were a guy who was trying to hide from the Men in Black, I wouldn’t put on the same fucking outfit. At the very least, I would have added a jacket or something. What the hell?

Wondering about it was going to have to wait, though, because there was something much more immediate and much more obviously freaky that was staring me in the face. Literally.

Dr. Tanner’s eyes were fucking glowing.

Okay, not glowing per se, more like they were reflective. Not like a cat’s eyeshine, though; it was his irises that were weird. Normally, from what I’d seen, both in his wanted ad and as he was standing in the truck, his eyes were about the same shade of blue as Riley’s. As his gaze darted about, though, they’d sometimes catch the light and brighten, turning a luminous icy white. A little like a road sign, I guess, but it was dimmer, and not perfectly uniform. It also only showed up when the light was at an angle, rather than head on. Whatever the hell it was, it was very noticeable in the shadows, especially when the only source of light was the glow of the cellphone screen.

I really hope he didn’t notice I was staring.

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[timetravelingpigeon]

Excerpt: The Life and Life and Life of a Time Traveling Pigeon

In Which Columba Makes a Break For It

[[PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT]] [ 29 / 33 ]

The going was slow as we meandered about, trying to escape detection. Dr. Tanner had spent much of the night being forced to learn how to avoid the Men in Black’s gaze, and he was putting those skills to good use now. We kept off the streets for most of it, ducking in and out of alleyways, in no small part due to the fact that a couple of college students who looked like they’d just lost a boxing match were something of a noticeable target.

A lot of it passed in a blur for me, between the pain and the last few dregs of adrenaline in my system. Eventually (after a very harrowing fence jump,) we found ourselves underground. It looked like some sort of utility access tunnel, probably for the subway system, but could have served any number of infrastructure needs. The only thing that mattered for our purposes was that it was out of sight from both the street and the air.

As the light from the city outside began to fade, Riley pulled out her cellphone to use as an impromptu flashlight. It was a cheap, bottom-of-the-barrel flip phone, and its glow was barely enough to keep her from tripping over her own feet in the gloom.

Speaking of, we’d come upon a door of some sort, only really distinguishable by the dull reflections off the metallic handle. Riley muttered something about a dead end, and I was about a half-second away from offering up my lock-picking abilities. Sure, I didn’t have any sort of tools on me; and my dominant hand was kinda fucked up; and if this was a city-owned, utility-workers-only sort of thing, it was probably above my skill level anyway, but—

Dr. Tanner simply placed one hand by the handle, pushed, and the door broke open with the too-loud metallic crack of the entire latch mechanism being shattered by the force.

Right. Superpowers.

Well, that thing’s never locking again.

The doorway opened up into a small room that was little more than a glorified closet, the walls lined with an eclectic mix of cables, pipes, meters, levers, and valves. A pervasive hum filled the air, and (once I’d found a suitably flat patch to lean against,) I could feel it likewise through the walls. It was decent enough white noise, I suppose, and the space was big enough for all three of us to fit comfortably, so it would work for us to catch our breath, mentally and physically.

There was a light switch just inside, but Dr. Tanner advised against turning it on; he didn’t know if the light would be visible from the mouth of the tunnel, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to show that there was a room down here, much less one that’s currently occupied.

And so there we were: me, my best friend, and the superpowered mad scientist that was apparently her brother, all lit only by the glow of a cheap-ass cellphone.

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[timetravelingpigeon]

Excerpt: The Life and Life and Life of a Time Traveling Pigeon

In Which Columba Gets Whisked Away Into the Night

[[PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT]] [ 28 / 33 ]

I shot another glance over to Riley to gauge her response to all this bullshit. Yeah, I knew him as the vile bastard who had just killed a few hundred people (now with another three tacked onto that total,) but she didn’t. And I didn’t want to do anything that might make him suspect I was on to him (because, for all I fucking knew, he was the hypothetical enemy time traveler.) So, yes, tell me, Riley, how am I supposed to be reacting right now? What is the proper response to having some superpowered asshole kill the Men in Black that were trying to kidnap you?

Apparently, the answer was to be frightened by the sudden and violent change in her situation (okay, cool, right there with you;) then have that melt into bewilderment, presumably at the fact that this guy just pitted this van like an olive with his bare hands (I’m not bewildered by that, specifically, but it’s not like he knows that;) and then, finally… relief? Recognition? Wait, wait, wait, hold on… 

He snaps the zipties on her hands… and she immediately drags him into a hug. 

Oh, no.

I see him stop dead and go stiff as a board as she embraces him, before clearing his throat and muttering that he still needed to undo the gag. And as he turns to help me out of my own binds, I get a good, long look at his face. Juxtaposed against Riley’s, I couldn’t help but admit that there was more than a bit of family resemblance between the two.

No. No, no, no, you had to be joking. I don’t care if it answers a bunch of my questions, this can’t be right. You can not be telling me that my best friend’s brother is the world’s deadliest terrorist. This just isn’t allowed. Nope, nuh-uh, not at all.

It was official: my current reality was the exact opposite of what I had wanted to happen. First, I fall flat on my face trying to convince Riley I’m a time traveler. Then, we get jumped and hog-tied by the Men in Black. And then, we get rescued by Morgan fucking Tanner. This is like Han Solo trying to tell Leia that he’s there to save her, she doesn’t believe him, they both get ambushed by Jabba the Hutt’s goons, and then Darth Vader appears right the fuck out of nowhere and breaks them out. Oh, and Han is the last one to know that Darth Vader is related to her. What the hell is going on?

I didn't have much time to protest this insanity. In fact, we didn’t have much time at all; Dr. Tanner, in addition to already being a wanted man, hadn’t exactly been stealthy these last few minutes. If the fact that their transport hadn’t arrived on time didn’t tip them off that something was up, the very loud screaming over the radio sure as fuck would have.

Still bewildered, but not really having any other options, I followed behind Riley as Dr. Tanner hopped out the back of the truck.

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[timetravelingpigeon]

@nikkilbook

(I’m hoping this is the proper blog for this.) I’ve got a fairly intricate story with a number of different plot lines that I *think* I have a handle on how to braid most of them together. However, I’m having a hard time with the interpersonal relationship plots. My main character has two best friends, and the way she interacts with them and develops her relationship is important to how the reader perceives her and her actions.

Unfortunately, I can’t figure out how to include scenes that grow their relationships without derailing the main plot (primarily a mystery, where the MC is actively trying to acquire and decipher information. The arc for the first best friend centers around her teaching him how to read, so I’ve figured that I can use that as a way for them to find information together while building their relationship. However, I can’t figure out what to do with the second best friend. I have ideas for scenes between the two of them that I *really* want to include, but I can’t for the life of me figure out how to bring them in without going off into the tall grass. The running theme I have with them is one of empathy, where they really *see* each other, and she intuitively recognizes and reacts to what he needs (he’s autistic, like me), but I don’t know how to work this in. Do you have any suggestions for how I can link this character plot to the main plot in such a way that both are strengthened? Cutting it out entirely would screw with the whole thing, so I NEED to find a way to weave it in.

Thanks for your time, and for doing this for the writing community! It means a lot to us. :)

Alright, there’s a lot going on here, so I’ll address what I think is the most pressing question:

Do you have any suggestions for how I can link this character plot to the main plot in such a way that both are strengthened?

These two characters’ share a subplot related to their relationship which explores themes of empathy and understanding, and it’s important to their characterisation and to the larger narrative that these things are established and explored, but you’re concerned about this derailing the story.

Now, I don’t know the particulars of the scenes that you want to show between them, but I would suggest that the way to work them into the story is to have them occur amidst the other action. For instance, if you have this ongoing mystery plot, you could have a scene take place where these two friends meet up after your protagonist has had a difficult day with the investigation, and their bonding moment represents both a helpful empathetic moment for the friend character, and a needed decompression from the stress of the day for the protagonist.

Or, it might be that they have a bonding moment together which is interrupted by the call of the plot, and later the significant elements of their relationship would probably come into play in some way in dealing with the plot – whatever they’re working on together in their relationship somehow becomes relevant and it’s only through that built-up trust and understanding that they are together able to overcome some kind of exterior obstacle.

It can be helpful to think of these interpersonal scenes as moments of ‘down time’, for both the characters and the readers, they can provide a restful moment between sections with high intensity or high action. It can help make the pacing of the story feel more natural, to have short periods of recovery in between, rather than rushing from one emotional peak directly to the next.

Some questions that might help you figure out how to place these interpersonal scenes:

What comes before the scene in question? 

Is it a regular meeting that they’ve planned on, or is it in reaction to an event? 

How does the previous scene affect the emotional tone of this scene?

During the scene are they dealing with issues that they have discussed previously? 

Or are they discovering issues that they’ve not addressed before? 

How do each of the characters feel about the difficulties that they’re facing in their relationship?

After the interpersonal scene how will things have changed between them, and for each character? 

Will they have learned new emotional or interpersonal methods to deal with the specific issues that they’ve been working on? 

How is this going to affect their actions and reactions as the story progresses? 

What kinds of problems will they now be able to face more easily?

You can think of these moments of characterisation and relationship building in relation to the larger plot and narrative as a chain of cause and effect:

There is a moment in the personal relationship – which affects their ability to act or react to the plot – which leads to introspection and interpersonal development between the characters – which enables them to face Plot Moments with new or different abilities than they had before – which affects their personal relationship, and so on …

It’s also important to keep in mind that the characterisation of their relationship should be ongoing and sustained. It’s probably not much use to have a single scene of the two of them, and then go back to the rest of the plot for a long while, and then go back to the two of them without much reference or thought about it in the middle. Even if the two characters are separated for much of the story, I might expect them to think or act slightly differently due to the importance of their relationship. 

For instance, if they are apart and one of them sees something that reminds them of the other, and their relationship, that would be worth mentioning. If at some point one of them faces a challenge related to the plot which reminds them of their interpersonal challenges, it would be helpful to reference how that prior experience might influence their decision making in that instance as well.

Now, given that you’re writing partly from your own experiences, I will only briefly mention that there’s the possibility with this kind of story, of writing the neurotypical character as a kind of ‘saviour’ figure, which could be troubling in terms of the underlying thematic elements of the story – absolutely not saying that this is the case in your story! – But for folks who are writing this kind of thing and perhaps don’t have that personal experience, it’s something to watch out for! If you’d like help writing autistic characters, or if you want to know more about avoiding problematic tropes in writing about autistic characters, you could check out @scriptautistic 

I hope that helps!

–

Hi there, your friendly blogger Mason here!

At the moment I’m fundraising to cover the costs of my gender confirmation surgery, if you’re able to donate, please click [HERE] to give me a helping hand!

If you’re not able to donate, I would be really grateful if you would reblog [THIS POST] so that more people will be able to see the fundraiser.

Thank you for reading, and thank you all for being so kind!

[timetravelingpigeon]

Writing a Superhero Story About the Sidekicks

Pros: Somewhat unusual perspective. Neatly avoids some of the the shitty parts of a power-fantasy narrative. Great set-up for satire and meta-humor. Makes things feel more “grounded.” Easier to explicitly show that the “support” characters have agency. Saves you from writing a lot of complicated fight scenes.

Cons: You’ll often find yourself walking a fine and dangerous line between “damsel in distress” and “there are monsters running around that can bench-press a tank, and they’re just a regular-ass human. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?”

[timetravelingpigeon]

Normal Horoscope:

Aries: The solution is almost always muddy and complicated. Smash shit together until something works.

Taurus: People are good at finding problems but bad at solving them. 

Gemini: Never lose your keys again, the stars say to clip your keychain into exposed skin.

Cancer: Death is holding a party and everyone is invited.

Leo: Deadbolt the door, the peaches are coming.

Virgo: Most thoughts are circle shaped. Dont worry too much about it. 

Libra: The world is what you make of it and rubble is absolutely and acceptable choice. 

Scorpio: This is a higher class of house plant. A Dreadfern.

Ophiuchus: Take a moment and ask yourself: “How can I ask myself questions when I already expect and answer, what is the nature of self knowledge?”

Sagittarius: The hunt is on! No starbucks will escape your horn-blessed gaze.

Capricorn: Be what you were always meant to be. Nothing. Anything is possible.

Aquarius: Use a lantern to light the way. 

Pisces: People never expect the unorthodox. Be the knuckleball.

[timetravelingpigeon]

What can you tell me about addressing the reader directly? Like, using "you" and asking the reader a question or something similar. Is it bad? Can it be done well?

Allow me to ask you one thing, gentle reader, and forgive me if this seems remiss or if I’m overstepping my bounds, but who am I, your humble narrator, to tell you whether addressing the audience is bad? Certainly, dear reader, if done poorly such a thing, like any literary device, may fall into the realm of the plunking, painful purple prose, but when done well? 

Dear reader, recall my illustrious colleague, Mister Lemony Snicket, who holds forth in an engaging, didactic dialogue, or Markus Zusak’s dour Death, who relates so keenly the tale of a young girl…

Well, I think you know what I’m going to say. Of course you can address the reader directly if you want to, done well it can be fun and interesting. It can make the audience feel like they’re taking part in the story in some small way, or that they’re complicit in the actions that are being undertaken. As well as Snicket and Zusak, there are a lot of authors who use this device for multiple reasons and effects.

**First, a quick note on the use of ‘YOU’. If the piece is written entirely addressing or describing YOU, then it is in the Second Person Perspective. Having the occasional aside to a reader is more often the Third Person Perspective.

The main thing that you’ll want to keep consistent is the tone of the asides. If it’s humorous or sad or provocative, you’ll want to make sure that it’s coming across the way you intend it to. If you make accusations at the reader, you’ll have to be careful that they don’t cross into being presumptuous or condescending.

The other thing you’ll want to remember is that you’re not precisely addressing the particular readers as in anyone who happens to pick up this book and read it. Depending on your narrative voice and narrator, you’ll be addressing a Presumed Reader. That is, a character who acts as a stand-in for your ‘actual’ readers, and who is developed via the remarks and comments made by the narrator.

So, for example, if you have a narrator who is a historian teaching a lesson, then the Presumed Reader could be a member of that historian’s class, you could have, amongst the story, asides like ‘you’ll recall from our lass lesson, of course, that the battle of the Great Cliff had occurred only a week earlier, and so reinforcements were not able to arrive in time’, or ‘I know you’ve been paying attention, so you should be able to tell me what happened at the king’s inauguration that so incensed the cardinal … No? I see I’ll need to set you some extra homework …’.

Some things to consider:

Who is your narrator?

Who are they addressing? (Who is the presumed reader)

Why is the narrator telling the presumed reader this story? Are they relating history? Writing to a diary? Are they telling a funny story to their friends down the pub?

Why do they break the narrative flow to address the presumed reader?

Remember folks, just about any trope or device can be done to a good effect – there’s no bad tropes, only badly done tropes, and all tropes can be done well with enough practice!

[timetravelingpigeon]

Hi! I hope I'm sending this to the right blog. I have a story I'm plotting/writing which is quickly getting complicated but I want to focus on the relationships between my characters and put more emphasis on the spaces in between the 'big action' but still let the reader know that the 'big action' things are going on. Do you have any advice on how to handle the balance on a plot like that? Thanks :)

Well there’s a great big genre that focuses a lot on this very kind of thing! If you’ve ever read romance novels, you’ll notice that many of them have this kind of balance of narrative going on. There’s the great big Exterior Plot going on where our protagonist has to deal with a wedding design company/ horse race/ zombie apocalypse, and the Personal Plot going on where they and their love interest have to juggle the emotional weight of the Exterior Plot with their burgeoning romance.

Of course, while Romance stories are often heavily reliant on this kind of plot balance, it’s applicable to other genres and also to relationships aside from romantic ones.

In practice, the way that you make sure that the two levels of the story work together is that you remember that they both have to occupy the characters’ minds at the same time, it’s just that at any given moment one or the other is going to be at the forefront.

So say that you’re writing a zombie apocalypse story, and your relationship is between a father and son who’ve been estranged but slowly have to learn to relate to one another in between fighting for their lives against revenants and scavenging for food. 

When they’re out in the world combatting the undead, it may be that at the beginning when they’re still quite fractious, the father and son are watching each other as much as they’re keeping an eye out for zombies. Perhaps they don’t trust one another while they’re working in such a dangerous situation, their relationship and past is going to cloud their judgement while they’re dealing with the Big Events going on around them.

In their personal time while they’re camping at night, they might be standoffish at first, but as time passes they become familiar with one another and gradually work through their issues – of course they aren’t safe and have the threat of the zombie hordes in the backs of their minds, but the focus is on their interpersonal interactions in the relative safety of the camp.

Going back and forth like this, their relationship while out hunting zombies progresses, perhaps, from distrustful, to working as a team, to working very well together, while at camp they go from barely speaking to one another, to going over their past and what went wrong, to developing a deep understanding and appreciation of one another and their newfound relationship.

As well as this, at some points the relative importance of each side of the plot being developed will break through. So while out on a zombie hunt, Dad is perhaps imperiled and this serves as a turning point for Son to realise what he would be losing if Dad died right now and he lost the chance to recover that relationship. Likewise, once the two of them are firm in their new relationship, it might be an ideal time for an opportunistic zombie or two to manage to break through the defences of their camp and interrupt their bonding time.

Essentially, in the sections that are dealing with the Big Action, there will be moments where your characters are thinking about the Relationship, and likewise, while the Relationship is front an centre, the Big Action is going to be in the background, threatening to interrupt things at any moment.

I hope that helps!

—

Hi there, your friendly blogger Mason here!

At the moment I’m fundraising to cover the costs of my gender confirmation surgery, if you’re able to donate, please click [HERE] to give me a helping hand!

If you’re not able to donate, I would be really grateful if you would reblog [THIS POST] so that more people will be able to see the fundraiser.

Thank you for reading, and thank you all for being so kind!

[timetravelingpigeon]

I love that your blog is blowing up for zombie apocalypse things! So here's a question, if humans get a zombie-pathogen of some sort, do you think it would affect animals too? If yes which ones and do you think it would act in the same ways?

It depends entirely on what the zombie pathogen is (henceforth referred to as the pathogen) and how it came to be.

Broadly speaking, the pathogen could belong to one of the following groups:

Virus (most popular)

Bacteria

Fungus

Parasite

Protozoa (single cell parasites)

All of these groups have different pros and cons for mutation, pathology and survival.

Viruses: Scary because antiviral drugs are relatively scarce, and often based on rabies as a real life example.They can be transmitted in all manner of ways and because they don’t have a metabolism some types can be kept preserved for indefinite periods. This is the group most likely to arrive from outer space and is relatively easy to aerosolize. Also reasonably likely to have a successful vaccine developed for it. They are, however, usually relatively species specific, most viruses have a limited host range of just a few related species depending on when they co-evolved, but some viruses break this rule. Influenza is a notorious one, as is Rabies, though Rabies is strictly limited to mammals.

Bacteria: Most people think of bacteria as relatively harmless since the advent of antibiotics, but any medical professional will firmly remind you that this is not the case. They are less species specific as long as they contact the right tissue or microenvironment, and some will actually survive in the environment on their own. If the bacteria can form spores, it will be particularly hardy. Anthrax is a bacteria.

Fungus: Fungi are weird organisms and usually accidental infections rather than anything else, but they are extremely hardy in the environment. That said, when they do adapt to live inside a living host they are basically nightmares and extremely difficult to get rid of. This isn’t helped by most antifungals having potentially very toxic side effects.

Parasites: multi-cellular parasites, like worms, mites, etc, typically have a narrow range of species they infect but are typically dependent on having a host for part or all of their lifecycle, and can’t complete that lifecycle without it. Eggs or larvae might be very durable in the environment but internal parasite adults are less likely to be. These organisms can often be seen by the naked eye.

Protozoa: The mixed bag of single cellular organisms, classic examples being Toxoplasma gondii but the notorious brain eating amoeba is another potential example. These are an absolute mixed bag. Some will be obligate pathogens, some will be accidental, some will be hardy in the environment and some will not. However, vaccines against organisms in this group are uncommon and infection is both difficult to detect and completely clear. They are completely variable in how well they cross from one species to another.

So how likely is a pathogen likely to cross from humans into an animal species, or vice versa? There are a number of factors to consider.

Is the pathogen human adapted? Does it multiply in humans and get transmitted from them? Or is it an accidental infection and the pathogen is just unlucky to end up in the wrong sort of host?

Is it designed or did it arise from nature? A deliberately designed bioweapon might target humans, but the designer probably didn’t need or want it to target their cows, for example. An accidental pathogen that arose from nature was probably already in something else, and if it’s hopped between species once, it could certainly do it twice.

How closely related are these species? It’s relatively easier for a pathogen to cross between two closely related species than two distant species, skipping everything in between. The exception being pigs and bats, which for no good reason we seem particularly able to share viruses and parasites between them and us. Pigs and bats are viral replicators, meaning they become infected with relatively low numbers of viral particles but secrete many more times that once infected. Bats also fly and poop everywhere. In a zombie apocalypse scenario, if in doubt, avoid the pigs and bats.

How close is the proximity between these species? Your pathogen might infect, for example, humans and elephants, but how often are those elephants actually going to be in contact with infected humans or parts thereof? There has to be opportunity for the infection, so species humans are more in contact with, eg dogs, cats, poultry, etc have more chances to be infected. The chance might be low at each given opportunity, but if you have enough it could happen. Somebody wins the lottery.

So whether it gets into animals at all depends exactly on how your pathogen works.

As to whether animals might exhibit the same behavior, it’s very hit or miss. It depends on how the pathogen works, whether it affects the endocrine system or brain structure. An infected human might have the behavior of ‘bite everything’ which might be comparable with an animal that often bites things like a dog, but something that rarely bites other things like a cow or deer might not present that behaviour to the same extent.