In pirate stories, there’s a map where X marks the spot of hidden treasure. Just like those pirates, writers have to find their own buried treasure – or, in this case, imaginary worlds in which the story occurs. Even if it’s a real place, like Chicago, the specifics are unique to the fictional story taking place.
We talked about map-making earlier in the A-Z Challenge, so today I wanted to talk about distance. If you make up a world and a transportation system, all of a sudden the time it takes to get from point A to point B is different: there aren’t cars and well-maintained roads.
In writing EMERALD FIRE and now, EMERALD KEEP, Rachel and I invented a form of transport called a sandsail. After a while, we needed larger vessels, and thus corsairs and cruisers were born. It became material to the plot of EMERALD KEEP how long it took because the characters had to make it to Reghdad (our underground city) before the beginning of Daymonth (when the surface of the planet became too hot for humans to bear).
In maps, something called a scale tells the reader what the distance is – it could be miles, as in the case of Mapquest or Google Maps showing you how to get from New York to Los Angeles. It could be feet, in the case of trying to get from one block to a house three blocks away.
With that for context, I give you our creation: the Map of Persis, the first draft of it, anyway. We’ve added to it as we’ve needed to have additional places. But this gives us a great deal of precision in how many days a journey will take and where different places are in relation to each other.
Besides. It was a lot of fun to draw.
We are working on edits of our forthcoming book from LooseId LLC and are super excited about it. In fact, when you’re talking to an author, it’s probably a good idea not to ask, “So, what are you writing?”
Because we’ll tell you.
Our main character is Vanya Demidov and I wanted to say a few words about the name, Vanya. Vanya is short for Ivan; which, contrary to popular opinion, is not pronounced “AYEvuhn.” It’s “ee-VAHN,” somewhat like Yvonne. It means, John.
Oh, come now. You know translations yield odd results, don’t you?
John is also Johann, Jon (pronounced “YAHN”), and Sean (pronounced “SHAHN”) and also, Shawn. Same pronunciation.
There. Aren’t you glad I explained myself?
For today’s A to Z entry, I figured I’d share an excerpt from a forthcoming series set in space. We figured that folks on a ship in deep space would resort to having pets, just like on modern day ships, but they wouldn’t be all that common – and sometimes, even forbidden. So what happens when you have a cat and… Well, see for yourself.
Before Kass could come up with something to say that didn’t sound corny or stupid, a loud yowl interrupted them and the door started rattling.
Gwyn jumped and recoiled from the door. “What the fuck!”
Kass tried to keep the chuckle out of his voice. “Relax. That’s just Auntie. She wants in.”
Kass leaned over Gwyn’s lap and flipped the latch up. Before he could slide the door more than an inch, a grey and white paw appeared and tried to push it faster. Gwyn pulled his legs up off the floor, curling them under him, and watched with wide eyes as Kass got the door open enough for his cat to appear.
Being a cat, she stopped across the threshold, staring at Gwyn with green eyes and an unblinking gaze.
“You have a cat.” Gwyn didn’t ask it as a question; it sounded more like an accusation.
“Yeah. Is that a problem?”
“Cats hate me.”
Kass snorted and leaned over to nudge Auntie’s butt through the door so he could close it. She made a half-yeowl and consented to let him mush her against his leg. He flipped the latch and sat back, trailing his fingers over the side of the seat and playing with her fluffy tail.
“This is Auntie Grey. She adopted me from a litter one of the squads had about six months ago. She’s still a kitten, really.”
Gwyn’s eyes widened. “You mean, she’ll get bigger?”
“She’s hardly going to eat you, you big baby.” Kass leaned down and scooped her into his lap. She started purring immediately, kneading his leg, so he moved a small pillow under her claws to keep his pants from getting pulls in them. “See? She’s harmless.”
Auntie continued to stare at Gwyn, not blinking, and Gwyn stayed wadded up in the corner of his seat. This wasn’t how Kass wanted this little experiment to go. What if they didn’t like each other?
Auntie stirred and stood up, thrusting Kass’s hand out of her way with her hips. She stepped across from Kass’s leg to Gwyn’s and the medic froze, his face pale.
“Jesus. You’re really scared, aren’t you?”
“I told you. Cats hate me.”
Kass reached over and caught Gwyn’s chilled fingers and pulled his hand forward. He rested it on Auntie’s back and Auntie’s purr grew louder. She traveled up Gwyn’s leg and curled into a ball in his lap, right against the buckle of his belt.
“You’ll need this.” Kass handed Gwyn the pillow.
“What for?” The suspicion in Gwyn’s voice made Kass want to laugh.
“Put it under her front paws so she doesn’t knead your leg. She has all her claws.”
At the word “claws,” Gwyn’s blue eyes widened but he did as Kass told him and set the pillow just in front of Auntie’s paws. She sighed and rolled against him, reaching for the pillow with both feet. Gwyn set it down and then hesitated a moment before stroking her fur from head to shoulders.
Auntie sighed and closed her eyes, clearly settling in for the long haul.
Great. Try to have a necking session with a cat in the way. Just what Kass wanted.
Those of you who are paying attention will know that this is a picture of a cat, not a truffle – but, and this is important, it could be. That’s the joy of worldbuilding.
I just spent time trying to find pictures of a cross-stitch that I did of a modified elephant. We changed the color scheme from elephant grey to truffle browns, shortened the nose and made the ears rounder. Since truffles are a cross between an aardvark and a cocker spaniel, elephants are a good base model – a cute, small-ish animal with fluffy fur and a trunk.
At the risk of sounding like all I want to do is talk about my books, I will say that worldbuilding for the Persis Chronicles was a hoot. We got to build a culture from the ground up, decide what things we wanted to change, what we wanted to keep the same, and what we wanted to wave a magic science-shaped wand over (hence the series is science fantasy, rather than science fiction). Our favorite creature, so far, is the truffle – so named because they help Hunters find the valuable goldstones under the sands just like truffle-hunting pigs do in our world.
Oh, and the cat? He’s my new buddy around the corner from my office. I met him on a walk late last week and he came right over and let me love all over him. Adorable!
So. You get home from the day job, or stop moving from the stay-at-home job, and realize it’s almost dinner time.
Ack!
Don’t despair. With a little bit of planning at the grocery store, you’ll have everything you need to make emergency stir-fry.
How?
I’m so glad you asked! Once upon a time, there were several writing buddies. They decided to create a collaborative cookbook, written from the perspective of writers – and therein lies the story. To find out more, visit Cook Like a Writer and download your copy for free today.
The main character of “Seeking Hearts,” our short story for the Torquere Press 2013 Charity Sips Blitz, is at home in his body and comfortable with his own sexuality. It’s fun writing a character who has very little angst, because then the angst has to come from the storyline itself – in this case, a mystery intruder.
But first, when we introduce Rik, we got to have a little fun with it. Check it out:
Heinrick Schenkel heaved the door into the track to lock it and shot the bolt. The sound echoed in the sail dock, with nothing to stop the reverberations but bare stone and sand.
Landing, what a mess! The sands lay churned and rutted from the several sandsails and two corsairs that had left in a hurry yesterday and this morn. But all things end, and Rik sighed with contentment. One whole Daymonth, all to himself except for Opa and Oma.
Even in the deep shade of the sail dock, the sand radiated warmth. The thick walls of the hostel would shield him and his grandparents from the intense heat of an entire month without nights. Rik’s eyes fell on the pile of insulated strips. Only if he reinforced the edges around the shutters. He tried to remember how many windows the hostel had. Why did he promise Opa that he’d do them all? But they had seemed so tired after doing all the dishes from the morning meal.
Oh well, they wouldn’t get done with him standing here. He strode to the pile and grimaced at the sand in his boots. After the shutters were done, he’d run the rake to smooth the sand channels. He gathered a few of the strips and cursed as they caught in his flowing daysilks. Winds, this was going to be a job!
He glanced around the yawning expanse of the empty dock. Sitting down, he stripped off his boots and socks. He grinned, wiggling his bare toes. Standing, he shrugged out of his daysilks, leaving them in a pile of green fabric. Clad only in his short trous, he scooped up a few of the strips.
Much better.
He strode to the two large windows in the dock’s waiting area. As he sealed the shutters, polka music flooded the dock. He grinned. One of the more recent upgrades his grandparents had installed was a full intercom system. It sounded like Opa’s favorite music disc.
The jaunty tunes would make his job go by quicker. On his way to the next window, Rik improvised a few dance steps. Holding the weather strip in front of him, Rik made it sway and dip to the music. He spun and caught a glimpse of darker black in the shadows of the dock.
“Excuse me.”
Rik let out a high-pitched squawk that would have done his kid sister proud, if he’d had a kid sister. The heat flamed into his face as he turned.
Winds! A Seeker stood before him.
Senior Hunter Quill Mayer, our hero in Emerald Fire, is a scarred man. Forced to witness the destruction of the town where he grew up, he is raised by his father. His life partner is killed by a sandcat in the Great Valley. He finds happiness with Emerald Keeper Teeka.
We are hard at work on the sequel, Emerald Keep, and hope to have it done shortly here (as in by the end of April). Here’s a little peek at Quill in the new book:
A soft tapping on Teeka’s door stopped him mid-step. Frowning, he changed direction.
He leaned close to the wooden panel. “Yes?”
“It’s me, Pineta. I wanna see the truffles.”
Teeka rolled his eyes. He could hear Pineta’s mad giggles through the door. Experience taught Teeka that Pineta proved to be a hyper, chatty drunk. Any plans Teeka might have of ravishing Quill would be postponed if he let his yearmate in.
He considered his options. “We didn’t get them. It was too late.”
“I think you’re fibbing. You left to get them.”
Teeka grimaced. “No really, they were sleeping. We’re getting them in the morning.”
“Let me say goodnight to Quill then.”
Teeka pulled on his braids. He knew Pineta only wanted to peek inside to verify what he said, but once in the door it would be impossible to get rid of his friend.
He turned to Quill and gestured at the truffles and mouthed ‘hide them.’
Quill pointed at the closet and Teeka shook his head. Landing, was the man sandsick? Trap the truffles in with his wardrobe?
The rapping started again, this time louder. Teeka bit his lip; the last thing he wanted was for Pineta’s antics to attract the attention of Senior Housekeeper Iana.
He cracked the door open. “Say goodnight to Quill and then head for bed.”
“Sure.”
With a hefty push and deft wiggle, Pineta entered the room. Teeka rubbed the shoulder he tried to use to keep the door open only a sliver. His friend put on some muscles during his last Contract. Pineta darted across the room and belly flopped on Teeka’s bed. He grinned up at Quill propped against a small mountain of pillows. Teeka rolled his eyes.
And Landing, but was Pineta drunk.
Quill smiled back at Pineta, making Teeka frown. His Intended better not take seriously Pineta’s early flirting at the party about having a threesome. Granted, Teeka had done them in the past, some with Pineta even, but he didn’t plan on sharing his handsome Hunter. His own possessiveness surprised Teeka.
Before he could suggest Pineta’s departure, the young Keeper squealed.
Pineta jumped off the bed. “Snake! I felt a snake!”
Pillows flew as the truffles erupted. They stamped all over Teeka’s bedsilks, ears flapping while their short trunks scooped up pillows and flung them around. Teeka squawked and backed up, joining Pineta by the wall.
Quill, who was obviously trying not to laugh, met Teeka’s gaze.
“What are they doing?”
Quill snorted. “Isn’t it obvious? Trying to find and kill the snake.”
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| Cat a’la Bed and Breakfast |
We use our cameras frequently for research. A walk in the neighborhood, the museum, even the park can yield images that stock the image pond.
Case in point: my husband and I went on a mini-vacation to Galena, and the bed and breakfast where we stayed had a cat guardian.
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| C’mon in! |
The would wait outside for guests and shepherd them to the front door. She didn’t come in, since she isn’t allowed inside the building, but she has her own little shed with a heated bed.
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| Um, hmm??? |
You never know what you’ll find on these trips, either; you have to keep your eyes open.
