Cycling season is upon us, although it is still quite cold here in Toronto, and it snowed last week. I have been getting out on the bike most days, enjoying the fresh air and getting some exercise, and I always seem to have pretty good ideas for stories when I am out cycling.
I visited the Andy Warhol Factory Made exhibit at the Taglialatella Gallery in Toronto, which was quite enjoyable. I have long admired Warhol’s work both for its aesthetic and the ballsiness of his entire enterprise, where he told the world what was art, had someone else produce it, and then took the money.
Things have gotten a bit easier with the story I am working on at the moment, with all of the pieces falling into place, and I think I have about three or four chapters left to write, and I will have a first draft in the bag.
The story is quite a complex magical story, and I like to keep my writing easy to read, and I didn’t want to make things overly obvious to help the reader through the story. I was having some difficulty with some of the plot points, but like magic (appropriately enough), it all seems to have worked out.
I have the word count up to 58k, and I think that it will probably come in at around 65k for the first draft. There will be lots to add, and new chapters will come to me that will need to be stitched in here and there, but I am pleased to have untied the knots, tied off the loose ends, and gotten something written that I think is quite good, for a first draft.
As I come to a close on this story, and talking of loose ends, I think I will be writing the fourth and final instalment of The Chronicles of Commander Nathan Blake series next. The story has been brewing and percolating in my head for a while now, and I have the main aesthetic I want to convey (dark, foreboding, disturbing?), and the main settings, and I have my villains and heroes all lined up…all that is left to do is to write the damn thing!
I joke, of course. I love writing!
I will leave you with a little teaser from Sphinx’s Tear, with the first part of a chapter titled Deep Red. Enjoy!
Deep Red
The dark skinned harbour master sat in his office, smoking a pipe and sipping minted tea. The room was messy, with papers and scrolls scattered across his desk and floor. The sounds of gulls cawing drifted through an open window in the indigo-washed wall. He was dressed in a long, blue shirt and baggy trousers of fine cotton, with upturned babouche slippers on his feet. He was studying a document, his eyes squinting under the glow of a brass oil lamp. There was a knock at the door.
“Come…” he said distractedly.
“A Captain is here to pay his port taxes,” said a clerk, also dressed in a long, white shirt and baggy trousers.
The harbour master gave a flick of his hand, beckoning them in, as he continued to read, puffing his pipe.
The clerk gestured, and a sailor appeared, dressed in sun-faded garb, his face suntanned and weathered. He wore a leather satchel across his body. The harbour master put aside his reading scroll and opened a ledger.
“Ship?” he said, dipping a quill in a pot of black ink, his hand waiting expectantly above the page.
“Mathilde,” said the sailor, stepping into the office, taking off his cap in deference.
The harbour master scrawled the name into the ledger.
“Where do you sail from?”
“Port Umbralis, sir.”
The harbour master scrawled this into the ledger.
“How long are you staying?” he asked, dipping the quill into the ink again.
“Taking on water and provisions, sir, and then we shall be on our way,” said the sailor.
The harbour master scrawled this down.
“Do you have cargo to trade?”
“We sail for Galloo, to deliver spice and rum already purchased.”
The harbour master finished his scrawling, then looked up.
“Leave us,” he said with a flick of the wrist, and the clerk closed the door.
He puffed his pipe back to life and leaned back in his chair.
“I am fond of rum,” he said, grinning.
“Oh aye,” said the sailor eagerly, opening his satchel and pulling out a bottle of dark rum that he placed on the desk, then stepped back.
The harbour master continued to grin, then leaned forward, taking the bottle that he inspected.
“Olde-Port-Umbralis-Extra-Special-Spiced-Rum…” he said, studying the label, then looking up at the sailor. “I have never had Olde Port Umbralis extra special spiced rum.”
“It’s very good, sir,” said the sailor. “You should try a tot.”
The harbour master smirked, retrieved a cup from a draw, uncorked the bottle and poured himself a tot. He sniffed it, causing his nose to twitch.
“What is that aroma?” he said, and sipped.
“Cinnamon,” said Morrigan Ravensong, who now stood before the harbour master, dressed in green robes, her face obscured by a bead veil, her emerald green eyes watching the harbour master.
He sat, the cup still to his lips, his eyes wide, his face dumbfounded.
“Have you heard of The Lizard Queen?” said Morrigan.
The harbour master weakly nodded.
“Do the Lizard Queen’s men come to Rabbat?”
He nodded again.
“Are the Lizard Queen’s men in Rabbat now?”
He nodded
“And where might I find the Lizard Queen’s men?”
“The tavern…” he squeaked, his eyes looking disbelievingly.
“Which tavern?”
“Shalazaars…near the temple of the sky.”
A smile appeared on Morrigan’s face behind her veil.
“Enjoy your rum, sir,” she said playfully, and turned and left the office.
The harbour master stared vacantly ahead, blinking, then suddenly became aware of himself again. He took the cup from his lips and scratched his cheek, seemingly dazed.
He looked down at the ledger, seeing the word Mathilde along with the other details he had just written dissolve away, as if they were sand in the wind.
“Anil!” he shouted.
The clerk hurriedly opened the door.
“There was a woman in here!” he said, confused.
“There was?” said the clerk.
“The sailor…he came in…”
“He did?” said the clerk, his face looking equally confused.
“He gave me a bottle of rum…and I drank some…and the sailor turned into a woman, wearing green robes, wearing a veil.”
The clerk stared, unsure of what to say.
“You saw her?” demanded the harbour master.
“Who?” said the clerk.
“The woman…who was a man!”
“What man?”
“The man who became a woman!” shot back the harbour master irately.
“Where?”
“Here!” snapped the harbour master.
“When?” said the clerk, now looking even more confused.
“NOW!” shouted the harbour master, leaping to his feet.
The clerk glanced around, then back.
“No…” said the clerk timidly, wringing his hands.
“No, what?” demanded the harbour master.
“I don’t know…?”
The harbour master, now seething, picked up the cup and took another sip of rum to steady himself. His eyes became vacant for a moment, and he sat back down. He stared at the clerk with a puzzled expression.
“What do you want?”
“You called me…” said the clerk, unsurely.
“I did?”
“Yes.”
“What did I want?”
“You wanted to know if I had seen the woman.”
“What woman?” said the harbour master, puffing his pipe back to life, looking at the clerk curiously.
“The woman that was a man, but who turned into a woman.”
The harbour master stared at his clerk with incredulous eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know…” said the clerk timidly, wringing his hands.
“Get out, you stupid boy!” said the harbour master, looking disdainfully at his clerk, returning to the scroll he had been reading, puffing his pipe, and sipping the extra special spiced rum from Olde Port Umbralis.
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