AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 8/15/2003 05:33:00 PM ----- BODY: Coming to was a strange experience. For one thing, the hair was standing up on the back of my neck for no apparent reason. For another, I was standing at the mouth of a cave looking out over a cute little clearing 30 feet below me. Finally, I had no idea who "I" was. Am.

Sweat was running heavily off my face even though the cave was cool. As the trembling started to subside, I realized that I was grasping a highly customized knife very firmly between thumb and forefinger, and that those fingers were locked in place, vise-like. With an effort of will, I released the pressure and let the knife fall into my open palm. Curious.

I turned around to look behind me, but I was alone. As I considered my situation, I casually flipped the knife in the air, once, causing the blade to spin around in the air and slap into my palm. Then (without looking), I reconcealed the knife as I...

Huh? I deliberately looked down at my left sleeve. I had to rotate my left hand all the way back to expose the sheath cunningly sewed into the bottom of my sleeve. Using my left thumb, I confirmed that there was another one in my right sleeve. On a whim, I felt around my entire arm, discovering other assorted goodies. Twisting my arm in a certain way revealed a sharp metal circle with various edges and a nice balance. (A shuriken?) I held it in my fingers and realized that I had the feel of it. As I put it back away, it occurred to me that I probably knew my way around the weapons I was carrying, and that concerned me. What manner of man am I?

Aside: (Somebody tries to kill him before the end of the scene because he was supposed to die up top. They are startled and they force a confrontation where he uses one of his weapons)

I become aware of the sound of water behind me and I desperately want to wash my face, but I had taken no more than a step back into the cave than I was seized with a wild and desperate dread. Instead, I turned carefully climbed down the cliff and dropped (lightly) into the clearing. There was a stream down there, so I washed my face and neck, only finding two more weapons as I did.

The presence of all that death was beginning to make my skin scrawl, and I had the impulse to rip my clothes off. I was very grateful that I resisted the urge when the woman walked around the tree and found me kneeling before the water. -------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 8/15/2003 12:25:00 AM ----- BODY: http://www.suntimes.com/ebert/greatmovies/starwars.html
The film philosophies that will live forever are the simplest-seeming ones. They may have profound depths, but their surfaces are as clear to an audience as a beloved old story. I know this because the stories that seem immortal--``The Odyssey,'' ``Don Quixote,'' ``David Copperfield,'' ``Huckleberry Finn''--are all the same: a brave but flawed hero, a quest, colorful people and places, sidekicks, the discovery of life's underlying truths. -------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 8/13/2003 05:42:00 PM ----- BODY: I didn't have time or energy to do any writing, but the next thing to tackle will likely be the first text from Kish's perspective. I'm still thinking of writing Kish from the First Person for effect. With any luck, I'll have our first scene as seen through Kish's eyes tomorrow or Friday. -------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 8/12/2003 05:05:00 PM ----- BODY: This writing thing is a real education.

After writing more Chapter One material yesterday in which an interesting blind beggar is introduced, I realized that I'd introduced a rather critical stumbling block. In the process of writing my way out of it, Aerie has stirred and is on the verge of introducing still more elements that I wasn't expecting (to my ever lovin' shock and delight).

In my backstory, I'm assuming that Anatole Dale has learned the Aerian language onboard a spaceship while on his way to the planet with the cool if enigmatic storm fortresses, but I have AD asking the beggar what the name of the planet is, and that doesn't follow. If Dale has learned the Aerian language onboard, he undoubtably knows the name of the planet. However, as I like the way the scene with the beggar played out, I wanted to find another way out so I could keep the scene. (I know, I know - I'll murder my darlings when I have to, but not before absolutely necessary.)

While sitting in a meeting this afternoon in which my participation was satisfied in the first five minutes followed by 55 minutes of chatter that does not affect me in any way, I sat there and addressed the problem straight on. In the revelation that followed, I think that my solution may have introduced an interesting wrinkle with wide-ranging ramifications.

If the problem is one of language or familiarity, I figured that either 1) the language difference wasn't an issue (something that I didn't want to allow because it feels like cheating) or 2) somebody had visited Aerie before.

Assuming that the populace at large doesn't know about spaceships or other cultures, that means that the visit was carried off on the sly, which led to other interesting ideas. I had another idea and am off to the races with an unexpected plot twist.

What happens if, in a nod to Robert Heinlein's _Citizen of the Galaxy_, the beggar is actually known to Anatole Dale. What is he is, in fact, an agent for the Terran Survey Service. What if he is related, even, perhaps an uncle or Dale's own father.

This brings up a whole host of other interesting Sci-fi questions and possibilities. What if Dale is Terran by heritage but was born on Aerie and has taken the family ship back to Terra for school. What happens if he fell in with the wrong crowd and in his rebellion plans not only on returning home as a representative of the TSS but plans on using his inside knowledge of the Universe-at-large to take over Aerie for himself. He has not communicated that fact to his father, but it will become appararent in short order and there will be strife there. Much of that backstory won't be mentioned but may come out in stray comments here or there, but it is good to know if that's the path that he's going to take.
(As a tangent, Roger Zelazny would sometimes write tangential short stories about various backstory elements affecting characters in his novels. He wouldn't publish them (or he might, as he did with Dilvish the Damned) but would use them primarily for his own use as backstory, colorful history that would affect his characters in the novels.)

While Dale was off at school, perhaps his father has come to understand the particular reality of the Eidolon. When he comes to understand that AD is going off in his own direction, perhaps he arranges, himself, for the event that will cause Dale to be attacked by the Storm Fort. This would be a powerful scene of private grief. However, instead of dying, AD falls into the deepnesses where the Eidolon dwell and is changed. That accomplishes his father's purposes far better than even he could have hoped, and will be the event that ultimately changes the planet.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Dale has returned to Aerie after years away and is a healthy, schooled young man with secret ambitions. It is no accident that he landed where he did. When Dale visits the small village and asks the question of the beggar, he is in fact announcing that he has returned home. What he has not announced is that he has plans of his own that don't include the TSS or his father. This could serve to provide all kinds of friction and mystery approaching the turning point at the cave.

Of course, I have no idea how this will impact the post-conversion Kish, but I have to assume that there will be some kind of reconciliation with his Father, possibly toward the start of the second book, because events will escalate so rapidly at the end of the first book that there will no time for a re-reunion. I had assumed all this time that Kish was alone on the planet or that his father was a straight-forward TSS hero, but this idea of a "strength in weakness" agent is an interesting tangent that could really flesh out the entire series.

Again, this is something that I didn't see coming but am rather digging now that the possibility is out there. I've liked the "secret champion" idea since the days of Zorro and the Phantom (both characters that my own Dad loved to read about and whose interest was infectious in ways that I'm only now beginning to appreciate). For one thing, this would introduce more mystery into the story, as well as lend more of a science fiction feel to what was shaping up to be a science fantasy book. In fact, I can see some kind of event that requires help from Terran space forces in the third book so that there is a climactic battle with the storm fortresses and the terran space forces working on concert. At the end, the people of Aerie would be brought up to speed with the rest of the Universe, signaling a new age for the planet, for better or worse. -------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 8/11/2003 06:00:00 PM ----- BODY: From the moment he first laid eyes on the stormfortresses of Aerie, Anatole Dale knew he just *had* to get himself one of those.

He closed the hatch and dropped nimbly to the verdant forest floor. Normally, he would have fallen backward onto the inviting carpet and revelled in the smell and feel of life, but his entire attention was on the castle he saw rising up out of the mammoth thunderhead in the distance, and that changed everything.

He strode purposefully to a gap in the pines and blindly reached out with his right hand, idly touching it while keeping his gaze fixed on the sight in front of him. It appeared like any other stormcloud except that it had this perfectly good castle built amidst the clouds. There were spires and arches and great halls. The only difference was that they were floating half a click or more up in the sky.

He leaned in closer to the tree, resting his cheek on his right hand, and considered as it slowly drifted to his right. After a pleasant while, he pushed easily away from the tree and strode forward. He had a lot of distance to cover to make it to the nearest village before nightfall, and he desperately wanted to watch the night's lightshow with a mug of something alcoholic in his hand.

* * *

He reached the village shortly after the sun slipped behind the cliffs and strode confidently along the narrow, simple street.

Dale passed by a healthy-looking beggar calling out blindly for what sounded like alms although that wasn't a word that had been translated for him onboard (not that he needed the refresher). Dale stopped, cocked his head in thought, and went back. He dropped a couple of coins of medium value in the wood bowl and leaned in closely, keeping his voice strong but low.

"Good evening, friend," he said. He found himself gesturing expansively with his arm but he couldn't help himself. It amused him.

"If you will indulge me, what is the name of this place?"

The beggar had a surprisingly strong, wry voice, at odds with his appearance, and matched him conversationally tone-for-tone. "Thank-you, gentle Stranger. This is the village of Sycamore."

Dale shook his head and then laughed - a low, friendly sound.

"I mean the World", he said, finally. "What do you call the World around here?"

At this, the beggar leaned his head back as if looking into the sky. "Ah," he said quietly, wistfully. "This is Aerie, the home of the Storm Lords and the storm fortresses."

"What I wouldn't give to see them again," he finished, almost to himself. Then, coming to himself, he said "...and where might you be from to see the Stormfortresses of Aerie for the first time?"

Dale's eyes hardened slightly, briefly. He leaned in just a little closer.

"I'm not arriving here fresh from exile in the Southern Seas, if that's what you mean," he said conspiratorially, dropping a heavier coin into the bowl.

The beggar did a thing where he cocked with his chin to the right and grinned widely.

"Glad to have you back, Master Vumbol," the beggar announced brightly.

Anatole Dale winked at him, then caught himself and rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He settled for laying his hand warmly on the beggar's for a moment before striding off, whistling, following the seductive scent of spirits in the gathering dusk. Ahead, the storm fort was just beginning to light itself with yellow and blue flashes.


Aerie. He leaned back and watched the light illuminate the castle spires. An appropriate name, he thought as he sat with his mug. He raised it in a toast and thought his private thoughts. --------