Read Part 1 HERE
The World of Magic and Faerie
Swallowgate and Logic’s Emporium of Stolen
Memories
are in the same universe as each other, along with two others. One is Underground
Highway 51, where you can find anything you’re looking for. I never even started this book, but you can
see a reference to it in Swallowgate: it’s where Mort’s mother came
from.
The
other book, The Nightmare Children of Faerie, is finished. It’s just not good. I couldn’t make it be what I wanted it to be,
and it’s in some ways derivative of other books. Since I created a proof copy to use to
completely rewrite it, though, I do have a back cover summary:
“In the Land of
Faerie, in the Kingdom of Nightmare . . .
“Something has
gone very wrong. The entire country is
fraying at the edges, and nightmares aren’t just being sent to Earth anymore;
they’re also invading the land.
“In order to save
not only the countries of Nightmare and Dream but all of Faerie, four siblings
must discover first what’s happening and then how to fix it.”
The
third country of Sleep, by the way, was the Sleep Sands: a massive desert where
the sand men lived. I had thoughts at
one point of writing another book in this country, about a sand man who fell in
love with a human woman and kept coming to visit her as she slept,
inadvertently sprinkling too much sand on her so that she was always
sleepy. This final concept will be
incorporated in some form into a sequel to The Land of the Purple Ring (if I ever write a sequel, which
I don’t know).
The Merlinmobile
A man buys an old van, which is painted in wizardly swirls
and stars, from a circus. He soon finds
that when he drives it, he ends up driving into other worlds, where people come
to him with their bizarre problems. He
calls himself Merlin to these people, which he thinks is hilarious (and which his
son thinks is “horribly embarrassing, Dad”).
Unsympathetic Magic
I wrote a short story with this title in my collection, The Day the Exclamation Marks
Came, and I
thought it had real potential. Ernest is
an insurance collector in a world that is half-magical, half-not. He himself isn’t magical, except for the
ability to see magical things. He is
middle-aged, overweight, and not impressed by anyone and especially not by his
partner (who is a comic foil, not a romantic interest). He is such a fun character to
write. My plan was to have him get
wrapped up in a murder mystery. But
again, the story never got off the ground.
Night Castle
This is another book I wrote several quite solid chapters
on, only to get stuck. It takes place in
the Night Castle, a huge and extremely magical pyramid-like structure with a
beating heart.
The corridor lay empty and silent when they returned to it. As with all corridors in the Night Castle’s
outer later, this one was dotted with windows tall enough to climb out of but
no wider than a hand. When the sun
angled just right, long narrow strips of light illuminated the hall and kept
the opposite wall bathed in light.
Between, above, and beneath each window twisted ivy, vibrant green and
pulsing with life. That ivy didn’t grow
in full sunlight, but one could find it everywhere else in the Night Castle,
growing voraciously. Once in a while, it
would become tangled and choke itself, and the Great Sorcerer or his apprentice
would cut it back; but otherwise, they let it grow.
Increasingly, magical monsters (based on viruses and
bacteria) invade and have to be fought back in various epic action sequences by
The Great Sorcerer. After his master is
slain before him and he goes to extremes to save the Night Castle, Ezra becomes
the new Great Sorcerer.
The pain receded in an instant, and with it that deep
knowledge. But he knew he could call
upon it at any time—that he could call upon the Night Castle, and she would
respond.
The old Great Sorcerer was dead.
He was Great Sorcerer now.
And Vashti was coming for him.
He succeeds, but in doing so becomes trapped and unable to
help the Night Castle for a long time.
When he escapes, he’s damaged and the Night Castle is overrun. Desperate for help, Ezra goes to find an
apprentice, only to find that the overrunning of the Night Castle has bled out
into the land, which is also having trouble with monsters that have evolved
from the ones in the Night Castle.
One apprentice clearly won’t be enough, so Ezra brings in an
entire class full, including our other protagonist, Asher. The Great Sorcerer’s special ability is to
split himself into multiple selves (an ability somewhat damaged by his
imprisonment), whereas Asher has some precognitive ability and ability to
answer questions—which he sometimes has trouble expressing due to a stutter.
“I heard he sees visions,” Tevye went on. “That he can answer any question and can see
past close doors.”
“I hope,” Zephaniah threatened, “you aren't attempting
to blame my son for anything.”
“Who's blaming him?
I just want to know why he didn't warn someone that this was going to
happen.”
“He did warn someone,” Yiskah said, standing on his
chair. “He warned us. It's our fault we didn't understand until it
was too late. And we got there in time
to help.”
“You got there in time to nearly get yourselves killed
along with the rest of us!”
“Peace,” said Rabbi Henschel. He was the sort of person people listened to,
and everyone turned to him. “Instead of
blaming Asher, we should use his abilities.
Asher, come here.”
Zephaniah pushed him forward, and he had no choice but
to obey.
Henschel laid a companionable hand on the boy's
shoulder. “Tell us, Asher. That man who saved us. Is he really the Great Sorcerer?”
Asher looked around him, at the adults staring,
waiting for his reply. His fingers felt
numb. “I d-don't know,” he whispered.
“You're doing it wrong,” Benaiah said.
“You have to ask him where something is,” said
Zephaniah's head shop assistant, who often asked just such questions. “Asher, where is the Great Sorcerer?”
“B-behind the walls of the Night Castle,” Asher
said. “In a roomm without ceiling or
floor.”
The townsfolk gasped at this and began to wonder. Many of them had not heard of Asher's
abilities, because they did not associate closely with day laborers or shop
assistants. They had their pride.
“Now,” said the head shop assistant, “where is the man
who saved us Wednesday from the ahemaitwu?”
“B-behind the walls of the Night Castle,” Asher said,
knowing this was true. “In a roomm
without ceiling or floor but with floating sparks like stars.”
Due to some misunderstandings and miscommunications, their
relationship is initially awful; but through their mutual work on behalf of the
Night Castle, they come to respect each other.
Several of the parts I’ve written could be easily turned
into standalone short stories, so I might do that for a future collection of
short stories.