Comicpalooza is upon us and I’ll be attending this weekend. I’ll make sure to bring back lots of new knowledge from the literature panels.
I’ve been looking forward to this all year. It will be my 2nd year attending and so far, I like it. I’ve got to meet a lot of authors with valuable information.
I feel like it’s going to be a fun weekend.
And just like that, the man I’d been kissing moments ago became the most dangerous man on the planet.
His face flashed across the platform’s screen. Somewhere behind me, the train screeched to a halt. Shoulders moved past me but all I could look at was at those gray eyes.
The picture was terrible. His face was blurred, distorted. Anybody who didn’t know him wouldn’t recognize him. I guess I didn’t know him as well as I thought.
It been only moments ago, when we said goodbye, that I was looking at those same gray eyes.
“Suspect is charged with arson, theft, murder, kidnapping . . .”
The list just went on and on. Apparently, he was behind the recent Ouji attack where a government building had exploded. The news didn’t say it but it the building had been a research facility. I should know. I used to work there until recently. That was where I first met him.
Terrorist was what the media called him. Yeah, with a rep list like that I would do and yet, was it really him? Was this the same guy who brought me dinner when I worked late? Or gave me a ride because my car wouldn’t start?
He had even helped me buy groceries. It couldn’t be him and yet, how could I not know those gray eyes. They looked like a thunder storm. The way the sky once moved, the way it is portrayed in videos.
“Train to Zanx will depart in five minutes. Train to Zanx . . .”
Had it all been a lie? Was that just one of his many personas? It would make sense. If it was true, everything he ever said and did would be a lie.
My gut twisted. It was a lie. Pressure build behind my eyes. I blinked rapidly. Oh, well. It was nice while it lasted. It didn’t mean anything, not really. I knew it wouldn’t last. That was obvious.
Somewhere close by, heavy footsteps approached. They came to a stop around me.
“Miss Alex Wight. Please come with us.”
I turned to the voice that had spoken. Surrounding me, there were seven individuals in tactical armor. They all point their weapons at me. The woman who had spoken stepped forward. She had cuffs in her hands.
“What is all this for?” I asked.
Most of the platform was empty but there were a few who loitered around waiting for the next train. They kept a wide berth from us.
“You’re charged with aiding a terrorist,” the woman answered, “please come with us.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets. And just like that, I was a suspect.
Creating the magic system for you world can be a lot of work. It also takes a lot of time. Personally, I have never created a full magic system for any of my stories that require one. However, I have understood the rules of magic.
What can magic do?
This is an important question I like to answer. Can magic raise the dead? If so, why aren’t zombies roaming around? Is this type of necromancy magic forbidden? What is the penalty of being caught performing such magic? Have a lot of magic users tried?
These question bring to mind a certain character where his family or someone close to him/her has died. if such magic existed, would they go out and find a way to raise the dead or find someone to do it for them? That simple fact – whether or not magic can raise the dead – cane create an entire story for that character. I also think about the popular manga, Fullmetal Alchemist, by Hiromu Arakawa. After failed attempt to resurrect their mother by using alchemy, the boys lose body parts and go on a journey to find a way to restore their bodies.
Can magic turn copper into gold? Or can magic users turn anything in general into gold?
It’s the transmutation question. This questions brings to mind a thief/peddler who is not really good at magic but he does have a small gift to transmute certain things to appear like gold. With the system I created, this is possible. However, I put in place limitations.
The transmuted object will always return to its original form. The effect is not permanent otherwise the economy wouldn’t exactly work.
What does magic require?
For example, if someone tries casting a spell, do they need certain ingredients? Can those ingredients be replaced? Do they need candles? Or perhaps a magic circle? Does it need the person’s willpower? What fuels magic? Does it burn away people’s life-force? Does it need “mana” or other forms of energy?
With this, remaining consistent is key. Otherwise readers might feel like there’s nothing concrete. There’s only so far suspense of disbelief will stretch.
Any limitations on magic?
This questions goes back to the beginning. It’s important to know what magic can’t do. There are times when I need to start backwards. I need to place limitations on what magic can do because otherwise there might be plot holes. Why couldn’t a character do this spell at the end when he could do it at the beginning without any problem?
The rules are up to you to decide. Personally, I like to keep things consistent. It also helps to keep a notebook with all the rules for magic. If I ever need to go back and double check something, I have a place to go for easy access.
Finally, beta readers are a good resource to use. Those who read your story will, hopefully, point out things that don’t make sense.
Another week comes to an end. Progress has been slow but there has been progress. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a post Monday. I got caught up with errands and school work. I promised myself I’ll do better.
I did go back and take a look at Crimson Queen, the story I worked on for Camp NaNoWriMo. Reading through, I realized that the beginning worked. The middle on the other hand didn’t. There was no direction. So, I went back through it and wrote down the main plot points that I found. There was a couple of them but they were just buried under unnecessary scenes/ words.
Moving forward, I need to fill in the blanks to get from one point to another. That “filling” has to be relevant to the story and has to contribute. Otherwise, the words become unnecessary and I don’t want that. Plus, I have the information, the filling if you will, I just have to find a way to add everything together.
With school going on now, I have to steal time to write until I get a schedule down. It’s going slower than I would like to. For sure this upcoming week, there’s going to be a post Monday. Wednesday is still writing prompt day. I’m having really fun with those prompts. They’re different but I need a way to get out of my comfort zone. I need to write something I wouldn’t normally write. Is there a website for random writing prompts? I definitely have to look for that.
If anyone has any suggest, send a message/ comment and I’ll see what I can do. Thanks for reading.
You attempt to pronounce some of the furniture names at IKEA. In doing so, you’ve summoned a demon.
A strange smell wafted from behind me. Wrinkling my nose, I turned around looking for an outbreak of fire. But there was no fire.
Instead, I found a small boy. He had khaki shorts and a blue t-shirt. He looked around eight years old? I wasn’t good with guessing age but he couldn’t be too old. With a frown on his face, he looked around the bedroom display area.
“Hey, there,” I called out. “Are you lost? Do you need help looking for your parents?”
The boy finally looked at me. Dark red eyes narrowed.
“You summoned me?”
Wow. Deep voice. He must be hitting puberty early. Was that normal? Then again, the size of kids these days – well, they were growing rapidly. People still mistook me as someone in middle school.
I looked around, hoping to flag an associate down but I didn’t see anyone. Great.
“Um, so, I can take you to the check-out area. They got these things that announce information throughout the store. They can help you find your parents.” I added a smile for a good measure.
“So, you’re deaf and dumb.”
My eye twitched. This – this – okay, let’s take a deep breath. I forced a smile.
“Do you need help?” I asked.
He crossed his arms. “I’d say you need help. That is why you’ve summoned me, yes?”
“Summoned?”
The boy sighed. His foot began to tap. “Yes, summoned.”
“Uh huh.”
I opened my mouth and closed it. Right, I wasn’t getting through to him.
“Let’s take a step back. What’s your name?”
The stare was back. “You’ve summoned me and yet you do not know.” His eyes glowed. “Tell me what you need so I can return to my own world.”
I took a step back. My foot stuck the bottom of the bed. I teetered for a moment before regaining my balance. He was something else entirely. It had to be a trick of the light.
“Listen, let’s go find your parents. They’re really worried right now.”
“I’m a thousand year old demon,” the boy intoned. “I have no parents.”
This wasn’t working. I chewed on my lip.
“Okay,” I said, slowly. “So, let’s make a deal.”
His eyes lit up. “Finally.”
“Help me, help you find your parents.”
The boy sighed. He shook his head muttering in a weird language.
“I am a demon. You summoned me. Tell me what you want.”
I frowned. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes you did.”
“I already told you!”
“Fine. I’m leaving.”
He clapped his hands once, but nothing happened. He sighed. We stared at each other for a moment.
“Fine,” he finally said, “let’s go.”
We were finally getting somewhere. I cleared my throat. “Well, the check-out is downstairs.”
“Just, just lead the way.”
I started walking towards the stairs. I kept looking over my shoulder to make sure he was still there. He kept muttering to himself in that strange language. I couldn’t place it at all. Maybe Google translate could help.
At the thought, I shook my head. I could only imagine how that would go. No, the best thing was to find this “demon’s” parents.
Dabbling in the Art of Writing 