Paksworld

In the first book of all–Sheepfarmer’s Daughter–there is a comment about the colors worn by Sofi Ganarrion’s cavalry troop and by Vladi’s polearms company.   I can’t find it.   I thought it was in this chapter…then in that chapter…it’s just a casual mention, but…where?   I know it’s there, but I have conflicting notes from another time…and I’m writing a side-story from Crown of Renewal that involves a cohort of Ganarrion’s people, and need the colors.  (If the editor likes it, that story will be in an anthology called Shattered Shields, coming out from Baen.)

So I’d very much appreciate it if someone who’s got the time could  answer that.

In the meantime, revisions are almost done (somewhat slowed by needing to get this story out of its snit and finished.   I’ll post about its intransigent nature later.)

As  King Mikeli’s younger brother has demonstrated in previous books, he’s an impetuous, energetic youngster with a gift for ending up in difficulties.   He’s also warmhearted, well-intentioned (in his own way) and brave.  He was supposed to be one of those minor characters who decorates the margin of the story,  illuminates the context of major characters.  However, Camwyn  did not stay marginal.   Quite the contrary.  Rather like Arvid, in that respect, he showed up at the oddest times, doing things that put him center stage.

It’s not that Camwyn wants to cause trouble for himself or others.  But a lightning rod person will always snag any electricity around, and he does.  Hence…a snippet.   By keeping it annoyingly short, I can just barely avoid spoilers, but may it bridge the gap over A-Kon, when I won’t be around to post anything. Read the rest of this entry »

I’d been struggling with a chapter–and specifically the first scene in that chapter–for weeks, off and on, in and around others.    It’s pivotal to a very important plotline and also to the chronological tangle previously  mentioned.   I’ve rewritten it.  I’ve written completely new versions, not looking at the old one.  I’ve cut and pasted…cut and not pasted…moved things, ripped things out, added stuff…and nothing was quite right.  Today it began to make more sense (well, I understand what it has to do better, maybe) but something was still missing.  Finally, the missing detail was outlined for me  (X needs to have found/be holding Y), but what the heck was Y?

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So…I went in last night to do some late work on the book after supper (which was late)  and after typing away decided it was time to quit.   Whereupon Microsoft Word said (in my phrasing)  “I feel sick and I’m quitting and what you’ve been working on may be lost when I shut down…Too bad, sucker.”

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Today’s work finally cleared up one nagging problem and may have also improved some other things.   Well…on second thought it cleared up a couple of nagging problems, one of which is a definite untied knot, and the other of which may create new nagging problems if I’m not careful.

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A productive day is a day on which at least 2000 words pile up.    I’ve been dealing with 1000 word days, 850 word days, 1600 word days, even 1854 word days…but the clear-sailing ahead 2000 word days have been thin on the calendar.   Today was one of them, plus some.

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You won’t see this for a long time, but I can’t resist:

As he lay wondering about this, a sound moved in the darkness, a sound for which–like everything else–he had no name.

And no, I’m not saying who “he” is or what’s going on.  There’s a book and a large chunk between now and then.

Nor is this a good topic for open speculation.    You might accidentally hit on details that would spoiler it for many.

Clearly I haven’t been clear enough about the geography.   Here’s some help.

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There I was, writing away on Book V,  when something popped up that solved a mystery.   This should not be spoilerish, more like background material that we just haven’t seen yet.    It was clear all along that there were more gnome princedoms than Aldonfulk and Gnarrinfulk, but those were the only ones who had inpinged on the story so far.    My attempt to figure out where they were and who they were had foundered.   Until today.

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I was reminded again this weekend of the way death comes seemingly out of nowhere to shatter relationships new and old.   A friend of mine in another state was participating in a serial transport of a rescued dog from the shelter where it was first found to its future home, some two thousand miles away.   The puppy stayed at her house overnight, and the next day she drove it to the next person in the chain.   The person set off…and she and the puppy were killed in a weather-related road accident.  You can read about it on my friend’s blog, which includes a beautiful tribute to the remarkable woman who was killed.  Please do, in fact.

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