1) Authors are often asked: do you have a favorite character? For me
it's: Dafydd or Lin? (and I admit a partiality to Dafydd.) I'd like to propose a variant of that for my readers. Which character do you admire more: Lin or Dafydd or another in Firebrand, or even Recruit? Why? Which do you relate to more closely?
Showing posts with label pendragon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pendragon. Show all posts
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Not dated journal entry for today, but . . .
there's this undated page of some brainstorming I did and it's between the entries for Feb. 1 & 4.
Hmm... Here's a peek at my musing. And a comparison with what evolved from it.
From 1992
K I Sawyer, MI
Britain was not ready for the chaos which was about to descend upon us at the loss of King Arthur. Without the strength and support of the Round Table knights, my claim was hopeless. I could give it a try. Rally those men out there to my side? Could I? Would they? Wfft! They were Arthur's men, not mine. Not his daughter's.
Dad and I talked late into the night last night on just this possibility. I did not want to accept that this could happen.
****
Here's what ended up in the published edition of "FIREBRAND"
Ballocks. Why can Bedwyr not address the men? He would know what to say. True. But what made me believe that his pain and grief were any less than mine? Addressing the soldiers was my duty now. I could no more walk away from it without so much as a by-your-leave than I could bring my father back. They had a right to expect my father's heir, not the weakling I had become, too much the coward to face them. Yet I had no idea what I should say. That Arthur, the Pendragon, was gone? Unthinkable. Once the Saxons caught wind of the day's disaster, they would be on us like a pack of starving wolves on an unsuspecting doe. And if not the Saxons, then all our fickle allies would descend like carrion crows, with Camelot as the feast.
If my father could not depend on the aid of his fellow countrymen as the Pendragon, what chance in Annwn did I have?
Between the Saxons and Britain's own people, Camelot would be torn to shreds. And it would take far more than the meagre remnants of the Round Table and my father's army to prevent such calamity. What could I possibly hope to achieve in my father's wake?
Thanks for reading!
Debra
Hmm... Here's a peek at my musing. And a comparison with what evolved from it.
From 1992
K I Sawyer, MI
Britain was not ready for the chaos which was about to descend upon us at the loss of King Arthur. Without the strength and support of the Round Table knights, my claim was hopeless. I could give it a try. Rally those men out there to my side? Could I? Would they? Wfft! They were Arthur's men, not mine. Not his daughter's.
Dad and I talked late into the night last night on just this possibility. I did not want to accept that this could happen.
****
Here's what ended up in the published edition of "FIREBRAND"
Ballocks. Why can Bedwyr not address the men? He would know what to say. True. But what made me believe that his pain and grief were any less than mine? Addressing the soldiers was my duty now. I could no more walk away from it without so much as a by-your-leave than I could bring my father back. They had a right to expect my father's heir, not the weakling I had become, too much the coward to face them. Yet I had no idea what I should say. That Arthur, the Pendragon, was gone? Unthinkable. Once the Saxons caught wind of the day's disaster, they would be on us like a pack of starving wolves on an unsuspecting doe. And if not the Saxons, then all our fickle allies would descend like carrion crows, with Camelot as the feast.
If my father could not depend on the aid of his fellow countrymen as the Pendragon, what chance in Annwn did I have?
Between the Saxons and Britain's own people, Camelot would be torn to shreds. And it would take far more than the meagre remnants of the Round Table and my father's army to prevent such calamity. What could I possibly hope to achieve in my father's wake?
Thanks for reading!
Debra
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Writing FIREBRAND Year One
As promised!
K I Sawyer, MI
(Marquette, MI)
January 27, 1992
Journal time. My word. Such progress. And content. How did I know all that? Wow. Weekends are nearly hopeless. Summer will be impossible. Well, one thing about the kids coming home from school--they bring me back to the 20th century every now and then. And that's not a bad thing. Not good to stay too long in the Dark Ages.
Keep saying I'm going to take a a walk, but never do. Just not the same as the country lanes I wandered in England. My, it's nearly a year since we had to leave. Talked to Bill (hubbie). He is really encouraging. He likes the samples I've sent so far. Been reading and re-reading what I've written so far. The latest 2 pages gave me shivers and the fear for my own sanity--that I could 'dream" that up!
Lin is telling the story to her daughters! She has two and she's about 4 months pregnant with another child. Possibly a son as well? (Art?)
*****
A bit of brain-storming there I see. So, Bear didn't exist right away. Interesting how things evolve in creating stories. I had forgotten that bit, that I thought of the daughters first, but not her son. Must have been a feminism thing I was striving for deep down. Not sure what I wrote thast gave me shivers though--maybe the bit towards the end of chapter one where she's recalling the horrors of the battle-field. It must be that cuz I couldn't have had much more of the story by then.
K I Sawyer, MI
(Marquette, MI)
January 27, 1992
Journal time. My word. Such progress. And content. How did I know all that? Wow. Weekends are nearly hopeless. Summer will be impossible. Well, one thing about the kids coming home from school--they bring me back to the 20th century every now and then. And that's not a bad thing. Not good to stay too long in the Dark Ages.
Keep saying I'm going to take a a walk, but never do. Just not the same as the country lanes I wandered in England. My, it's nearly a year since we had to leave. Talked to Bill (hubbie). He is really encouraging. He likes the samples I've sent so far. Been reading and re-reading what I've written so far. The latest 2 pages gave me shivers and the fear for my own sanity--that I could 'dream" that up!
Lin is telling the story to her daughters! She has two and she's about 4 months pregnant with another child. Possibly a son as well? (Art?)
*****
A bit of brain-storming there I see. So, Bear didn't exist right away. Interesting how things evolve in creating stories. I had forgotten that bit, that I thought of the daughters first, but not her son. Must have been a feminism thing I was striving for deep down. Not sure what I wrote thast gave me shivers though--maybe the bit towards the end of chapter one where she's recalling the horrors of the battle-field. It must be that cuz I couldn't have had much more of the story by then.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Go Bears!
Just saying. Besides, there's nothing in the 1992 journal to share today. Lin talked to me a little yesterday. Wrote a few pages for book #3 in the House of Pendragon series--The Shield-bearer. She just called her dad a liar and a fraud. In the Round Table Hall. In front of all the knights. And she has walked out. (After being a knight for less than a whole day.) Now she's realizing what she's done. Do I send her to the tavern to drown her sorrows in ale? Or do I send her to her room to pack, intending to leave Camelot?
What would Lin do?
What would Lin do?
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Writing FIREBRAND Year One
This is a colorful entry! I started in black ink--ball point. Switched to brown ink--fountain pen. Tried green for a few words. Then red - the line: "I've died and gone to heaven". (The line of my letters was very smooth.) Then there are a few sentences in a bright blue and I really didn't like the pen, but I do like the color. I finally ended in brown.
K I Sawyer AFB, MI
(Marquette, MI)
January 15, 1992
Journal time. Not much new. No new earth shattering inspirations on Camelot. Not that ideas have stopped! They keep coming faster than I can sort them. They've been keeping me up to the wee hours lately.
I'm sure the neighbors will be glad when I get some new music. Wish I could find a new Marillion or Chris de Burgh CD. That would be brilliant. Need to write some letters. To Bill, Jan, etc. Need to get groceries, go to finance. Payday errands. The usual. More later!
(Brown ink) Wow! Check this out. A brown Berol. (Loved that pen company!) Got a red and a green as well, plus a few more blue! Yippee!! Found a place that can order them for me. All right. Check it out, great color. I've died and gone to heaven.
Check out the Varsity. Nope. Not the same, too splotchy. Nice color though. Save it for emergencies only. Ick.
Love the Berol!
***
There is just something about the write pen in hand. It's weight and balance. Kinda like a sword has to be right. Right, Lin?
K I Sawyer AFB, MI
(Marquette, MI)
January 15, 1992
Journal time. Not much new. No new earth shattering inspirations on Camelot. Not that ideas have stopped! They keep coming faster than I can sort them. They've been keeping me up to the wee hours lately.
I'm sure the neighbors will be glad when I get some new music. Wish I could find a new Marillion or Chris de Burgh CD. That would be brilliant. Need to write some letters. To Bill, Jan, etc. Need to get groceries, go to finance. Payday errands. The usual. More later!
(Brown ink) Wow! Check this out. A brown Berol. (Loved that pen company!) Got a red and a green as well, plus a few more blue! Yippee!! Found a place that can order them for me. All right. Check it out, great color. I've died and gone to heaven.
Check out the Varsity. Nope. Not the same, too splotchy. Nice color though. Save it for emergencies only. Ick.
Love the Berol!
***
There is just something about the write pen in hand. It's weight and balance. Kinda like a sword has to be right. Right, Lin?
Friday, January 14, 2011
Writing FIREBRAND Year One
K I Sawyer AFB, MI
(Marquette, MI)
January 14, 1992
Helin's fosterage -- Morgause offers to do it, "to atone for Modred" but instead of raising her according to her station . . . About 12 - 13 years later Morgause goes to Camelot and presents her brother Arthur with some "servants": Lin and Dafyd, a few others for good measure. Then Lin and Dafyd work on Camelot for about a year before anyone realizes who Lin really is. Let's try to avoid that royal birthmark cliche to identify Lin.
God! They were all related to each other. No wonder they were all mad. Such twisted geneologies.
****
Interesting peek at my brainstorming process here. Again with Helin instead of Lin. And Dafydd with only one "d" at the end. And like Morgause would really repent anything! So funny. But I was really thinking along the lines of Lin working in Camelot alongside Gareth (using his kitchen-knight story-line) and them becoming friends and all and Lin hidden in plain sight! Had some interesting scenes going on in my head that never made it to the page. But it was all driving me to Lin being a slave in Orkney! This is so much fun, looking back like this.
(Marquette, MI)
January 14, 1992
Helin's fosterage -- Morgause offers to do it, "to atone for Modred" but instead of raising her according to her station . . . About 12 - 13 years later Morgause goes to Camelot and presents her brother Arthur with some "servants": Lin and Dafyd, a few others for good measure. Then Lin and Dafyd work on Camelot for about a year before anyone realizes who Lin really is. Let's try to avoid that royal birthmark cliche to identify Lin.
God! They were all related to each other. No wonder they were all mad. Such twisted geneologies.
****
Interesting peek at my brainstorming process here. Again with Helin instead of Lin. And Dafydd with only one "d" at the end. And like Morgause would really repent anything! So funny. But I was really thinking along the lines of Lin working in Camelot alongside Gareth (using his kitchen-knight story-line) and them becoming friends and all and Lin hidden in plain sight! Had some interesting scenes going on in my head that never made it to the page. But it was all driving me to Lin being a slave in Orkney! This is so much fun, looking back like this.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Writing FIREBRAND Year One
K I Sawyer AFB, MI
(Marquette, MI)
January 13, 1992
What an incredible feeling--to have this magnificent story, exploding from somewhere deep within you. The words bursting out from your soul, through the pen and onto the page.
****
Wow! What eles can be said? I guess I was pretty happy. Now? I'm just frustrated with Lin. I've been stuck for chapter 14 in book three for quite awhile now. Where are the words now?
(Marquette, MI)
January 13, 1992
What an incredible feeling--to have this magnificent story, exploding from somewhere deep within you. The words bursting out from your soul, through the pen and onto the page.
****
Wow! What eles can be said? I guess I was pretty happy. Now? I'm just frustrated with Lin. I've been stuck for chapter 14 in book three for quite awhile now. Where are the words now?
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Writing FIREBRAND Year One
Today was a very short post back in '92. The struggle for the title of the book. I knew the theme would involve Arthur's children: daughter Lin and the more famous Modred. I was still also thinking of the broader story of Arthur. I still had a lot of brainstorming to do. Looking back, the title was the least of my worries at the time. But I was much younger and . . .
K I Sawyer AFB, MI
(Marquette, MI)
January 12, 1992
Leave it to divine intervention and the solution presents itself. New title: Daughter of Britain. How could it be anything less? Thanks, Lin.
end of entry
***
Ah, I used "Lin" here. That's a good sign. This was also when I was thinking it would be only one volume, that I could get the entire story in one book. Ha!! How naive of me. I think I was also influenced a little by Indiana Jones--well his father in the third movie: Indiana Jones and the Holy Grail. That's still one of my favorite movies. LOL!
K I Sawyer AFB, MI
(Marquette, MI)
January 12, 1992
Leave it to divine intervention and the solution presents itself. New title: Daughter of Britain. How could it be anything less? Thanks, Lin.
end of entry
***
Ah, I used "Lin" here. That's a good sign. This was also when I was thinking it would be only one volume, that I could get the entire story in one book. Ha!! How naive of me. I think I was also influenced a little by Indiana Jones--well his father in the third movie: Indiana Jones and the Holy Grail. That's still one of my favorite movies. LOL!
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Writing FIREBRAND Year One
I wonder if it was snowing on this date back in 1992 when I wrote my journal entry. It is snowing here today in Noblesville and I'm glad I don't have to go outside. I do all my travelling here on the Internet!
I seem to be full of myself. Or does every writer get like this in the creating process? I certainly was riding high. And I remember the giddiness of those days. I didn't have an office then, or a computer, or even a typewriter. Back then, I wrote while sitting on the couch. I balanced a clipboard holding loose-leaf paper in my lap and wrote in longhand with a fountain pen. Maybe I need to go old school again!
K I Sawyer AFB, MI
(Marquette, MI)
January 11, 1992
A new day, full of new ideas and new words. What a bloody, great tale I have to tell, indeed! Where is all this coming from? Don't question, Deb. Accept the gift. For it can only be just that.
I realized today that the majority of modern novels pertaining to the Arthurian have been done by women. How odd.
I no longer want to call this "The King's Children". At least I don't think I don't think I do. But I don't know what else to call it. I'm sure that too will be there when the time comes. I doubt it not. Oh. I feel numb right now as Helin.
Indeed. Indeed.
I have run out of ideas for today. That's alright. Don't mind. Just as well. My arms certainly are sore, as if I had hefted a sword and shield myself all day. Ouch!
I read and re-read what I wrote this week and can't help but be amazed that it came from me.
(end of entry)
***
(back in 2010!)
I was still calling her Helin then? I thought I had made the switch a few weeks earlier. And I don't think I was impressed so much with the brilliance of the quality of the writing, but the creative process. I was feeling good about simply setting my ideas into words that made sense on the page. It seemed to me that I had a decent sense for character and dialogue and point of view. And I proved that right when I had the thing critiqued a few years later.
As always, thanks for reading!
Debra
I seem to be full of myself. Or does every writer get like this in the creating process? I certainly was riding high. And I remember the giddiness of those days. I didn't have an office then, or a computer, or even a typewriter. Back then, I wrote while sitting on the couch. I balanced a clipboard holding loose-leaf paper in my lap and wrote in longhand with a fountain pen. Maybe I need to go old school again!
K I Sawyer AFB, MI
(Marquette, MI)
January 11, 1992
A new day, full of new ideas and new words. What a bloody, great tale I have to tell, indeed! Where is all this coming from? Don't question, Deb. Accept the gift. For it can only be just that.
I realized today that the majority of modern novels pertaining to the Arthurian have been done by women. How odd.
I no longer want to call this "The King's Children". At least I don't think I don't think I do. But I don't know what else to call it. I'm sure that too will be there when the time comes. I doubt it not. Oh. I feel numb right now as Helin.
Indeed. Indeed.
I have run out of ideas for today. That's alright. Don't mind. Just as well. My arms certainly are sore, as if I had hefted a sword and shield myself all day. Ouch!
I read and re-read what I wrote this week and can't help but be amazed that it came from me.
(end of entry)
***
(back in 2010!)
I was still calling her Helin then? I thought I had made the switch a few weeks earlier. And I don't think I was impressed so much with the brilliance of the quality of the writing, but the creative process. I was feeling good about simply setting my ideas into words that made sense on the page. It seemed to me that I had a decent sense for character and dialogue and point of view. And I proved that right when I had the thing critiqued a few years later.
As always, thanks for reading!
Debra
Friday, September 3, 2010
The Official Start to The Firebrand--where it began
I recently went through a box, wanting to transfer the contents into plastic totes/tubs and move it from our bedroom. I knew what was in the box, so I wasn't surprised by what I found--several years' worth of my journals. On the top was one dated for 1992, what I found inside besides the journal pages is what surprised me, because I thought it had been lost: I found the page with the very first words I wrote leading to the version of FIREBRAND I have today. The words that officially got the novel started. They aren't in the book, but this is what got the brainstorming rolling for me.
I thought I would share. Apologies for the crude/bad writing, but I didn't fix anything.
Dated: 1-2-1992 (close to midnight)
"Your highness." Sir Gaheris swept past the guard around me. His voice was trembling. He knelt before me and repeated, "Your highness, Sir Bedivere sent me. Your father, the king . . ." his voice trailed off in a half-sob.
In my mind, I panicked. We were standing in the twilight after a full day's battle at the River Cam. A futile and senseless battle against my half-brother Modred. (In the margin, I added: Killing had never been easy for me. {Right! Our Lin?}) The carnage of the battle surrounded us. The sickening syench, hung heavy in the air. It clung to my skin, my hair, my clothes. I'll never be clean again, I remember thinking. I fought to keep my voice in control as i spoke. "What of my father, Gaheris?" BUt, I already knew what his reply would be.
"The king has been sorely wounded--Sir Bedivere (striken: has sent me to) bids you, please come. I shall take you to him." My father was dying. Why had I not been there to defend him?
*end*
Not my use of Bedivere. That eventually changed to Bedwyr. The river changed from the cam to the Thames. But it was Ris who got things started. He "spoke" the first words. I was in bed, unable to sleep and I "heard" and "saw" Ris. I immediately turned the light back on and scribbled those words. More came the next day, and the brainstorming began.
I'm thinking of posting some of those journal entries from that first year of writing. My struggles. My joys. My thoughts on creating Lin.
I thought I would share. Apologies for the crude/bad writing, but I didn't fix anything.
Dated: 1-2-1992 (close to midnight)
"Your highness." Sir Gaheris swept past the guard around me. His voice was trembling. He knelt before me and repeated, "Your highness, Sir Bedivere sent me. Your father, the king . . ." his voice trailed off in a half-sob.
In my mind, I panicked. We were standing in the twilight after a full day's battle at the River Cam. A futile and senseless battle against my half-brother Modred. (In the margin, I added: Killing had never been easy for me. {Right! Our Lin?}) The carnage of the battle surrounded us. The sickening syench, hung heavy in the air. It clung to my skin, my hair, my clothes. I'll never be clean again, I remember thinking. I fought to keep my voice in control as i spoke. "What of my father, Gaheris?" BUt, I already knew what his reply would be.
"The king has been sorely wounded--Sir Bedivere (striken: has sent me to) bids you, please come. I shall take you to him." My father was dying. Why had I not been there to defend him?
*end*
Not my use of Bedivere. That eventually changed to Bedwyr. The river changed from the cam to the Thames. But it was Ris who got things started. He "spoke" the first words. I was in bed, unable to sleep and I "heard" and "saw" Ris. I immediately turned the light back on and scribbled those words. More came the next day, and the brainstorming began.
I'm thinking of posting some of those journal entries from that first year of writing. My struggles. My joys. My thoughts on creating Lin.
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