Types of Endings: Twists, Reveals, and Final Battles

As part of my Advice from an Editor YouTube series, I made a video on how to Write a Great Ending.  In case you haven’t see it, I’ll summarize it first:

A good ending will fulfill all of a book’s narrative promises without beating you over the head with them.

The three promises I highlight are plot, character, and tone: plot arcs should be sufficiently wrapped up; character arcs should be completed; and the tone of the ending (happy, tragic, ambiguous) should match with the rest of the book. 

A great ending will add an unexpected (but fitting) element to the ending.

This doesn’t necessarily mean a “twist" ending or “big reveal,” which can be great but can also ruin your book.  It simply means that your ending isn’t exactly what your reader could have predicted.  Your protagonist may need to come up with an unlikely solution, or something might change that 100% makes sense in context, but which the reader didn’t see coming from ten chapters ago.

That’s as far as the video goes, but I’d like to discuss further the types of endings:

Twists, Reveals, Final Battles

I recently watched a rather famous anime that is often cited as having one of the best anime endings ever (except for the few people who say it has one of the worst endings ever).  Personally, I think the ending is very solid: it fulfills its narrative promises, fitting the story and wrapping up the plot lines and character arcs, and it didn’t do it in quite the way I expected.  

Without spoilers, it goes somewhat like this:

Throughout the series, the protagonist has emphatically spouted an extreme philosophy regarding how to fix the world.  When all else fails, he takes up a new mantle and engages in extreme but unexplained actions.  Then at the very end, an explanation for these extreme actions is shown, and it exactly matches and is the culmination of his philosophy.

This ending fits the show in every way: it fits the philosophy, it finishes the character’s arc, and it follows the the show’s format of having the protagonist plot secretly before revealing his strategies as he carries them out.  To be clear, this is not a twist ending.  

TWIST ENDING: an ending wherein you’re given a piece of information you didn’t have before, didn't realize you didn't have, and couldn't reasonably have guessed, which recontextualizes everything that came before.  

            Example: The film The Sixth Sense does this flawlessly.

            Pros: impressive when it works

            Cons: ruinous when it doesn’t work (which is at least as often as not)

This is why I say the anime I watched didn't have a twist ending: throughout the final arc of the series, the viewer knows very, very clearly that the protagonist is up to something and the sorts of things he gets up to and what his goal is.  The only thing the viewer doesn't know are the exact details of his plan.  When that plan is revealed, it shouldn’t come as a shock to any viewer who has been paying any attention for the past fifty episodes.  This is a reveal ending.

REVEAL ENDING: one in which you're finally given the details you were waiting for in order to understand the evidence that's come before.  

            Examples: Most mystery and heist stories. Think of it like this: in a mystery, when the detective reveals the murderer, the reader doesn't sit back in shock because, gasp, someone was murdered!  Obviously, because they've been following the detective around for the past 200 pages/ 45 minutes.  They know all that; they're just waiting to have the details filled in. 

          Uses: Mysteries and heists or any story in which the protagonist has figured out the ending but isn’t going to share it until the reader can experience it alongside him.

            Pros: a far safer option than the twist, especially as it is more likely to stay enjoyable even when the reader figures it out ahead of time. 

           Cons: can be frustrating for readers who don’t like being purposefully kept in the dark.

By far the most common type of ending on my shelves, however, is what I’m going to call “the final battle”—"battle" here not necessarily being literal:

FINAL BATTLE ENDING: you experience the outcome of the climatic sequence simultaneously with the characters.  If there was a plan, you knew about it beforehand, and it went wrong.  

            Differences: Unlike in a twist, the entire story before now is not recontextualized in a single shocking moment.  Unlike in a reveal, you were not being kept in the dark about key facts known by any of the protagonists.  

            Pros: Works great for almost every type of story and typically the appropriate choice.

            Cons: Unlikely to cause shock and awe in your reader, so you might not make it onto many “best (or worst) ending ever” lists.

. . . Do please leave a comment if you have another type of ending you'd like to add that isn't included in these.  I don't mean this to be an all-inclusive list; only what I happened to be thinking about for this blog post.  ~

 

 

When NOT to use the hero's journey mentor pattern

The Mentor character is a very familiar one, especially in hero journeys and coming-of-age stories.  The pretty classic formula for the mentor (Obi-Wan, Gandalf, Dumbledore) goes like this:

After the protagonist becomes committed to the quest, the mentor provides advice, help, and tools.  Once the quest gets tough, however, the mentor disappears (or dies) and doesn’t come back for a long time.  If the mentor does finally come back, it is in a different capacity: he can sometimes advise or deal with events elsewhere (or maybe he just left a helpful diary), but he can no longer personally lead the hero through what only the hero can do.

This formula worked just fine in Star Wars, The Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter, because those three stories following the coming-of-age of the new guard (SW and HP) or the lone adventure of an everyman (TLOTR).  But what happens when the protagonist is in a power growth fantasy?  Take the following story:

Y is a high school student who is possessed by a dangerous magical entity but who manages to retain control.  He slowly begins to be able to use the entity’s magic himself, but in the process, the entity becomes more and more powerful.  If he doesn’t keep the entity under control, the entity will destroy everything.

Enter Professor G.  Professor G is the strongest sorcerer in the world, although only in his mid-twenties.  In order to fight internal corruption in the magic world, Professor G has been recruiting and training sorcerers who have the potential to be as powerful as he is.  Impressed at Y’s potential, Professor G brings Y to his magic school and begins training him.

So far, we have a pretty classic beginning, but there are two big differences here between this story and Star Wars or Harry Potter, and those differences are important: first, Professor G is less than a decade older than Y, which means Y can’t be the new guard replacing the old guard—they’re the same generation.  Second, Y is explicitly said to have the potential to be as powerful as Professor G within the course of a few years—which is certainly not the case for Harry or Frodo.  (Luke has the potential to be more powerful than Obi-Wan, but, as with the others, the age gap is huge.)

There’s one more element that I haven’t mentioned, but which is very important for story and character development: Y is a fairly classic, good-hearted and grimly determined hero, whereas Professor G is silly and extravagant.  This not only creates a very different interpersonal dynamic than the classic hero-mentor dynamic, it also lends the story much-needed variety.

Now, given this information, let’s plug in the classic next step for the mentor (which is what the story does):

When things become dangerous, the villains specifically target Professor G and trick him into being trapped.  Now Y is fighting them alone, without the help of the world’s most powerful sorcerer, and the situation is dire.

And here is where everything falls apart.  Let me explain:

1. The Protagonist Looks Pathetic #1: The author (irl) got Professor G out of the way because G was overshadowing Y by being way cooler and more fun than him.  But how pathetic is that?  You don’t make you’re protagonist more cool by getting rid of everyone cooler than him; if he isn’t cool enough on his own, that’s a him problem.  Besides, man is judged by the company he keeps.  Y is cooler because Professor G respects him and interacts with him.  What’s more, Professor G provided an excellent foil, and without him, the story becomes a one-note grind.  (Also, you got rid of the best character, you dunce.  I’m not going to keep watching your show now, though I will look up how it ends.)
     Solution: Make Y cooler through keeping his association with Professor G

2. The Protagonist Looks Pathetic #2: The entire premise of the show is that Y has the potential to be as powerful as Professor G.  So if you have to get rid of Professor G to give Y a challenge (since otherwise Professor G would easily solve everything), what does that tell us about Y’s power level?  Besides, since Professor G was the scale by which power is measured in this world, any power growth apart from him is meaningless.
     Solution: Make Y look more powerful by showing he has become worthy to fight alongside Professor G

3. The Villains Look Pathetic: If they can only be a threat when Professor G isn’t around, they aren’t a threat.
     Solution: Make the villains so powerful that they’re a threat even when Professor G is around.

4. Characterization Is Ruined: Professor G is depicted as someone who can only be delayed but never truly stopped, and who endlessly does the impossible.  So the fact that he doesn’t ever figure a way out of the trap by himself . . . is unbelievable and annoying.
     Solution: Keep Professor G in character by having him find his way out. (Bonus: this may itself cause further interesting complications)

5. It Isn’t Awesome.  This is an extreme power-growth magic story.  Having the protagonist not look pathetic isn’t enough; we need the most awesome fight and magic visuals which are full of personality for a variety of battles.  Getting rid of some of the best visuals, and visual variety, is foolish.
     Solution: Include the most awesome climactic sequence by utilizing both Y and Professor G’s powers, personalities, and interactions to the max.

If your goal is to make your protagonist look strong and cool and awesome in a power-growth fantasy, show that he can fight as an equal next to the world’s strongest sorcerer . . . not that the only way to make him look good is by getting rid of everyone better than him.

Note to anyone who figured out which story I'm talking about: yes, I do know how the rest of the series goes and how it ends, and I'm sorry to say it only doubles down on the error I outline here.  

Custom Cover Art

 The Midnight Files returns!

Two years after the end of Amazon's Kindle Vella serial novel format, The Midnight Files is finally being published by Thinklings Books as e-book, paperback, and hardback.  Book One, The First Partner, will be coming this October and  the other two books in Octobers 2027 and 2028.  

It's been a boatload of work reediting these, of course, but that's not what I want to talk about.  Instead, I'm very excited to say that I'm having custom art done for the covers.

Now, not all covers need custom art.  For many, in fact, stock images do as well or better.  However, The Midnight Files really needed its protagonists on the covers but those protagonists also have some extremely specific characteristics that it's frankly impossible to find in a stock photo.  Namely: Nebekah Lawrence's hatchets and Daisy Allen's gloves.

Thinklings Books has an excellent cover designer, but we don't have a dedicated artist, so we turned (where else?) to Fiverr.  After several hours of searching, we found Gaurav.  

It's always a risk, hiring on a new artist, but we thought, based on his previous work, that he might be well-suited creating art for The Midnight Files.  I reached out to him and arranged a custom gig, sent him the files, and he sent me back his first sketch.

The sketch was good, but not quite right.  I'd given him a description of Agent Lawrence for the cover, and she ended up a bit too superhero.  I gave him a few notes.  Now, professionally, for my books and other Thinklings Books and books from clients back in my editing days, I've dealt with a lot of graphic designers, and my experience has generally been a difficulty communicating well with them.  

Not so Gaurav.  He took my notes and ran, not only adjusting everything I'd mentioned but somehow practically reading my mind and getting back to me a sketch that was astonishingly good.

But I hadn't hired him just for his sketch work.  I'd hired him for his brilliant use of light and color, and he didn't disappoint.

This is what he got back to me.  Just look at that back glow . . . and the gleam on those hatchets . . .

Now: is this always how I pictured Agent Lawrence to look?  No, and it's still not.  But it also is, because he captured the essence of her.  He even somehow captured something deep and complex in her expression . . . because from a distance, it looks tough, even angry, but if you zoom in close, it looks somewhat sad.  And that is not only an astonishing combination and achievement from the artist, but also about the truest possible representation you could have as her as a character. . . .

Overall, it's been an interesting and nerve wracking experience.  But I'm extremely happy with the result, and hope you like it too!

I'll continue to update you on the book as time approaches.  At the moment, a proof copy just arrived, and so I'm editing it.  Again.

A Sonnet About Emrys

 

 

A Sonnet About Emrys*

 

Shall I compare him to starless nights?

He is the void, the beautiful abyss

And no one can forget the fearful sights—

Nay, nor recognize anything amiss

In their altered thoughts and crystalline dreams—

Imposed by his intense magnificence:

The reversed brightness like a dark moon seems

Beguiling as wishes, rich as incense.

O Emrys, how above us all you are:

How above our wisdom, your simplest thought;

How above our heads as the distant star

How above our might, in cosmic battles fought.

Yet though we cannot match you, matchless sir,

We love you with a love that's pure as purr.

 

 

*The older of my two black cats: Emrys, who was named for Merlin.

Who was lately sitting in the sun with my Shakespeare Omnibus, which he had just finished reading and was in the midst of contemplating,

A Horatian Ode upon a Hungry Light Switch

 

I recently visited a 6^th-grade classroom, and the following writing prompt was on the board:

“There is a light switch in your house that no one knows what it is for, until 1 day you discover its purpose! Write about this day (6–8 sentences, 6 minutes).”

Although there was zero expectation that I do so, I was intrigued by the prompt and wrote my own version—which, however, took me closer to an hour, since I randomly decided to write it in the form of a Horatian ode.  Or possibly Roald Dahl.  In any case:

 

A Horatian Ode upon a Hungry Light Switch
by Deborah J. Natelson

The light switch on the kitchen wall,
Which seemed to have no use at all
Into its own, one day
Came in a dreadful way.

“It’s for the trash disposal drain,
Since tossing food is such a pain,”
My mom hypothesized—
It drained her before our eyes.

 “It’s for the outdoor lights,” Dad said,
“So you don’t have to reach overhead.”
He flicked the light switch on—
And poof!  His head was gone.

 “It’s just for pranks, some silly game;
A switch for losers.  Totally lame,”
Said Older Brother Chen—
He had two legs, back then.

 “It skews our words, so it can roast
Our family like a Reddit post!”
I smell her burning still—
My sis upon the grill.

 That’s four down of our family;
Its own target left is me.
Unless you’ll come to call—
Feed the switch upon my wall.

An Odd Way of Categorizing Story Types

Writing The Midnight Files has had some interesting effects on the way I view stories.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with it, the basic premise of The Midnight Files is that story genres invade the real world, changing how it functions to match story conventions.  To set the world right, the Agency sends in agents who kill or unravel the story, often by using its own conventions against it.  Or, to put it another way: The Midnight Files is basically TVtropes.com mashed with Supernatural with guest stars from every popular novel/movie/videogame.

One of the things the Agency does to help its agents defeat story genres is by categorizing them into not only genre but strain, type, subtype, and variant.  (Genres are described as “infecting” the real world, so I use some infection vocabulary.)

For example, in Agency parlance:

 

The Haunting of Hill House: Horror genre, House strain (Decadent variant), Malevolent type

Five Nights at Freddy’s: Horror genre, Rules strain, Survive-One-Night type (Multiple Nights variant), Animatronic subtype

Sherlock Holmes: Mystery genre, Private Detective strain (Impersonal variant), Deductive type

Labyrinth: Fantasy genre, Coming-of-Age strain, Fairytale type, Challenge subtype

 

I try to create these categories based on what is most impactful to the nature of how the story plays out, based on patterns I see when related to other stories.  For example, in horror, location often defines a story’s tropes more than the villain: a horror ghost story that takes place in a house will more similar to a cursed mirror story that takes place in a house than it will be to a ghost story that takes place somewhere other than a house.

Part of the effect of breaking down story tropes in this manner is that sometimes I realize that stories I thought of as fairly different are actually fairly similar.  At the moment, I’m writing a Gothic Horror in the style of Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, and I noticed two things:

1. Gothic Horror and Gothic Romance that take place in an Ancestral Estate are more similar to each other than they are to other types of Gothic in either genre.

2.  Jekyll and Hyde is basically the same story as The Picture of Dorian Grey, except for the differences caused by the characters of the protagonists.

I address the first point somewhat in the story, so I’ll tackle the second here, because I think it’s, well, interesting. 

First of all, I would categorize both stories as: Horror genre, Gothic strain, Duality type.

 

Jekyll and Hyde: a man with secretly decadent habits makes a drug to cure his boredom.  This drug makes him transform into an evil version of himself.  The evil version is happier than the kind version and intrigues the kind version.  In fact, the kind version realizes he’d be happier if he stayed as the evil version permanently.  However, when he realizes the evil version is actually going to become permanent, the kind version repents and kills himself rather than let the evil permanently take hold.

Dorian Grey: a man, previously innocent, discovers the pleasure of decadent habits and indulges his evil side more and more.  A portrait of him transfers the effects of his evil onto itself, allowing him to dodge the effects of his evil.  At once point, he realizes that he has become evil, but decides he likes it too much to give it up and decides to keep it permanently.  When he sees the evidence of his evil in the portrait, he tries to get rid of the evidence by stabbing it, which ends up killing him instead.

 

If I were to create a template for a generic version of these stories, it would look like this:

In a Gothic Horror style: a man is tempted by decadence.  Given a magical means, he is able to indulge is evil side without being caught.  However, the evidence and power of his evil eventually catches up with him.  If he is, at heart, a moral man, he kills himself rather than let the evil spread.  If he is, at heart, an immoral man, he attempts to kill the evil rather than let him incriminate him (and in doing so, accidentally kills himself instead). 

 

The detailed categories of each would end up looking like this:

Jekyll and Hyde: Horror genre, Gothic strain, Duality type (moral variant), transformation subtype

Dorian Grey: Horror genre, Gothic strain, Duality type (immoral variant), magical object subtype

 

Overall, Jekyll and Hyde would be not much changed if it utilized a magical portrait instead of a scientific potion, and Dorian Grey would not be much changed if Dorian physically transformed.  More important is the fact that Dorian, was at heart, a really horrible person through and through, and Jekyll had some redeeming qualities.  Despite this, for years I have thought of the two stories as quite different, not because of the nature of the protagonists, but because of the sort of magic/science used to effect the plot.  Which is, I suppose, a lesson more on the importance of window dressing than on anything else . . .

In any case, if looking at and breaking down stories like this helps you at all, I recommend giving it a try!  It isn’t perfect by any means, but it can be both useful and fun if your brain works that way.

Writing Emotion

 One of the best pieces of writing advice I’ve ever heard is this: if you want to have a character react with an emotion, take a moment and act out that emotion.  For example, for anger, you might think really, really hard about something that makes you angry, so that your whole body reacts—and then you observe.  How has your face moved?  What are your hands doing?  What are your legs doing?  Your feet? 

 Now look at an object in your room.  That is truly, absolutely disgusting.  Revolting.  It makes you want to puke looking at it.  What do you do?  Do you stay faced fully toward it, or do you turn away?  Do you want to keep looking at it?  How does the inside of your throat feel?

 That is one level of emotion: the immediate physical reaction.  But there is another: compensation.

 Often, with strong emotion, our reaction is an attempt to somehow get rid of the side effects of that emotion by dealing with other things in our lives that cause a similar or overlapping feeling.  As for me, when I’m stressed, I find any clutter far less bearable, because clutter also makes me feel stressed. When I’m under stress (or an emotion that causes stress, such as frustration, grief, or even excessive excitement), I tend to go on a cleaning spree.  I may not be able to do anything to lessen my grief, but by gum, this kitchen is not going to be adding to my stress.  It’s a form of exerting change on what I can control to compensate for not being able to fix what I can’t.

 Of course, everyone is different, and so everyone exerts this control on something different: for some people, a messy house is not going to be a cause of stress.  The question is then: what is?  And that comes down to your character’s unique personality.  Perhaps they find impending deadlines stressful, in which case they might do something to forget, or they might work overtime.  Perhaps they find decision-making stressful, in which case they might exhibit avoidance behavior or dump the problem on someone else.  In either case, these can be secondary reactions to the emotion that’s causing the bulk of the stress.

 At the moment, this is all theoretically, so let’s take a story case study.  We’ll use a classic form:

 Once upon a time, there was a humble village out in the middle of nowhere.  This village had been at peace for many generations, untouched by the great evils taking place far away. 

 Then one day, minions of the great evil attack the village, slaughtering the inhabitants.  Our protagonist manages to hide in a cellar, so they don’t find him.  When he finally emerges, once the attackers are long gone, he finds everything he’s ever known and loved destroyed.

 He could have different initial reactions: freezing, running around trying to find people, fleeing, hiding back in the cellar.  This is a good time to show character and initial shock.  But . . . what about after that?  Does he bury all the bodies and tidy the place up before either leaving or making himself a new home there?  Does he keep running all the way to the next village?  Once there, does he try to get people to help, or does he pretend not to know about the event, so he can’t be connected to it?  Does he work obsessively to get strong enough to defeat the evildoers?

 I used this beginning as an example for three reasons.  First, it’s reminiscent of the Call to Adventure in the Hero’s Journey.  Second, I actually recently read a rather different take on it in the beginning of Bog Standard Isekai.  Third, I spend the entirety of Sunday and Monday cleaning my house. 

 Goodbye, dear Flora.  You were the most wonderful dog.

12/8/2010-1/4/2025

Russian and German books I've desperately wanted to read that don't have English translations

I've read a great many books translated from Japanese, Mandarin, and Korean, because there are a huge number of fan translators who've made it their mission to bring those novels to an American audience.  But what about novels written in other languages?

I've long been a fan of Alexey Pehov's Chronicles of Siala, but only the first trilogy plus the first book of the following series have been translated.  None of his other award-winning books.  Some of them have been translated to German, which is slightly better . . . I took German in high school and a little Russian in college, and German's definitely more attainable for me.  I even started (very laboriously) translating the second of his Wind and Sparks books from German.

Then there's Lilli Thal, who wrote the staggeringly brilliant Mimus, a book so good I never realized it wasn't fantasy.  The only of her books that has been translated from German to English.  How I want to read more!

Say, did you know that Google Translate has gotten really good lately?  Turns out the combination of years of machine learning aided by a touch of AI makes the translation from German to English really smooth.  And did you know that with the Google translate app, you can hold up your phone in front of a book page and read the translation almost instantly?

Well, now you know.  You can.  

It's not perfect.  Quotation marks tend to get lost, and there are a few other issues -- and I'm grateful that I have just enough German to help me along. 

 But.  But........

I feel like a supervillain who has just accomplished his goal of taking over the world and needs to raise his long, spiky fingers in the air and break into maniacal laughter.  

But I'm reading it!  I'm reading them, the books I've wanted to read for years!  And they're good.

Well, not all of them.  I read a dud from Pehov, though I have hopes for the next one.  But, regardless, the first 100 pages of Lilli Thal's Die Puppenspieler von Flore (The Puppeteers of Flore) is definitely extremely good.  And I am happy.

Like this: 

:)

But more like this:

:D

or even . . .

*raises hands to the crackling lightning, throws back head, and lets out echoing laughter*

What Caused My Year-Long Writer's Block (And How I Obliterated It)

 I finished writing The 50,000th Stair just over a year ago.  At 145k words, it was my longest book to date, and I had written it in under two years--about double my normal writing rate.

As a writer, I'm a long-distance sprinter, and I almost always take 6+ months off between books.  The thing was, though, I wanted to keep writing.  I knew in detail one of the scenarios for book 3 and a significant amount of about half of the rest of the book.  I felt like I ought to be ready, but my brain was desiccated, and even when I tried to write, nothing good emerged. 

During this time, I went through various life changes.  For part of it, I was busy and happy but had a lot of time off; for part of it, I was drudging and unhappy and had every second devoured.  It didn't matter: the creative juices didn't flow.

Now, the #1 way of conquering writer's block that I've traditionally found is read more.  But no book seemed to interest me.  I found myself increasingly spending more time on my phone, especially watching YouTube videos of varying degrees of value.

Then, about a month ago, something happened.  I was thinking about eating a food and wondered if it would be bad for me.  My immediate response was to pull out my phone to ask Google, but I was in a place with no service, and I thought --

What am I doing?  Why am I asking the internet if this food is bad for me?  It's full of sugar and oil.  If I think about it for two seconds, I know it's bad for me.  In fact, why do I need to immediately look up the answer to any question that flashes past my brain?  Especially as the result of looking it up is that I stop thinking about the question.  

In short: more googling = less thinking.

Uh, oh, I thought.  How has this crept so out of control?  So I pulled up Focus mode on my phone and set it so that all internet browsers + YouTube are blocked all day.  The only time they're unblocked is 5pm-8pm.

The difference was vast and immediate.  Instead of YouTube garbage, I started listening to a superb audiobook of Nicholas Nickelby while I did housework.  Every morning at breakfast, with no other entertainment, I found myself picking up notebook and pen and writing for an hour and a half while listening to music.  Once my brain was no longer so stupid it couldn't understand them, I began enjoying books again.  At first, I was actively using my phone for stuff between 5 and 8pm; but after a couple of weeks, I found it no longer interested me. 

There's been increasing research out there about how the way we use our phones is making us (and our children) stupider.  It certainly made me stupider.  It may be making you stupider.

If you're having any writer's block, I highly recommend my experiment: block your phone for a few weeks, and regain your brain.

Rereading The Lord of the Rings After Many Years

 It's funny, but I haven't actually read The Lord of the Rings for more than a decade now.  I've started to read it several times, and gotten through the prologue, which I quite enjoy.  But somehow, I'm either in the mood for some lore or for a story, and I never get any further.  Or maybe it's that I didn't like my copy.

But my brother-in-law is finally reading the books for the first time, and so I decided: all right, here it is.  And so I started . . . 

At Chapter 1.  Having skipped the Prologue.

Old Obsessions Are Still Possessions (to quote my sister):

Travesty, I know.  Or maybe I know and you don't, so let me give my credentials.  

I was in middle school when the first movie came out, and so I read the books first, which set me up to dislike the movies.  Ii started out my time on the internet on tolkienonline, where I was, for the first and last time in my life, a Big Deal on a forum and story-based website.  People recognized my username.  I wrote a popular (and very ridiculous) fan fiction and collaborated on a larger story with many others.  I read and commented on Every Single Story that was posted.  It was my place, my home . . . until it started changing (it has a new name now and is unrecognizable) and I fell off.  But still, it was my first online-based obsession.  

And on top of that, I have played The Lord of the Rings Online MMORPG since beta.  And that game is made by the most obsessive fans who have ever obsessed.  I'm not kidding when I say I know obscure lore and have the maps imprinted on my brain.  

And yet . . . and yet . . . I've only read the Silmarillion all the way through once, The Children of Hurin Twice, The Tolkien Reader four or five times . . . and I've never read the histories.  I memorized some words in the Black Speech but hardly any of the geneologies and only two of Tolkien's poems.  Which I know some would say makes me a fake fan.  :)

Starting Without the Prologue

So anyway, I did the unthinkable and skipped the Prologue.  I'm now about 100 pages in; we're just reaching Woodhall.  And I love it.  I love that cold start, right into some magnificent storytelling.  (And somehow, through all the slogging through histories, I forgot that Tolkien is just a really good, compelling writer with a lot of sly wit and frankly easy prose.)  Beyond that, reading is so refreshing.  It says to me: "This.  This is what truly good writing looks like.  This is what no-question-but-it's-five-stars writing looks like.  How have you forgotten?"  But it seems, reading it, that there were several details I forgot -- even as, on a deeper level, far more details spring to memory.

Thinking of Fellowship as having been published much later than The Hobbit

If I'd grown up having obsessed over the Hobbit, it would've been devastating to me to see Bilbo so old.  I did read The Hobbit first (or my fifth grade teacher read it aloud), but only two years before; and though I liked it, I wasn't madly in love with it.  But imagine if I had loved Bilbo so deeply, only to see him so old, so tired . . . 

But as is, for me, The Lord of the Rings stands out more; and so I see The Hobbit more as a prequel; and so I am not sad to see old Bilbo but happy to see young Bilbo when I read that book.

It's Just a Start

As I said, I'm only 20% of the way into the first book.  I've barely dipped my toe in.  And yet, how striking . . .

I'll post further if I have further reflections.

A Spoiler-Filled Rant on Undertale

. . . that probably won’t make sense unless you’ve played the game and might disagree with you if you have.  But here I am anyway.  If you haven’t played the game, I do recommend it.

So, for Christmas, a friend gave me Undertale, which I had heard of but not played.  I knew a few things but not that much—mainly that there were different paths based on whom you decided to kill or spare.  I should mention that I have played fairly few video games in my life, though I sometimes watch Let’s Plays, and therefore am fairly slow; it took me about 10 hours to finish the game.

Knowing what small spoilers I did, I thought about how I wanted to play the game, and decided to try not to let my knowledge influence me.  It came to me very quickly that I would play as follows: kill only those characters I found it absolutely necessary to kill and do my absolute best to spare everyone else.

 

TORIEL

The first monster I killed was this psycho kidnapper who imprisoned me in her home and decided to make me her child against my will; then, when I tried to escape, dragged me back again and again before finally violently attacking me.  Aside from the fact of kidnapping and wrongful imprisonment, it became clear to me that the only way I’d ever be safe from her was to defeat her.

After that, I didn’t kill any monsters.  I went way out of my way to be merciful and spare them.  The only time I slipped up was once monster that attacked me.  I tried to spare it, but it refused, so I hit back . . . and hit way harder than I expected, since I didn’t fully understand the fight mechanics.  It died by accident.  A pity, but since it had attacked me first and I’d done my best to spare it, I wasn’t too broken up.

 

UNDYNE

The next monster I killed was this psycho stalker who followed me halfway across the world, repeatedly attempting to murder me.  I offered to spare her, to talk with her, anything—and she refused.  She screamed at me again and again that she was going to murder me and use my soul to open a portal to the human world, where she would murder all humans.  (And she dared call me a murderer!)  Se refused to back down, but I wasn't about to let her murder not only me but all humans.  I therefore fought back and I killed her.*

(*The game went all sad-music and then silence, as if I should be sorry for what I’d done; as if I’d been ruthless.  You know, because it was so wrong of me to prevent the monster who’d hunted me across the world from murdering all of humanity. . .)

There were three more encounters, over the course of the game, in which monsters attacked me and I couldn’t figure out how to save them, and who died while I was trying to get them to accept mercy or at least let me run away.  One of these encounters was the royal guards, so there were two of them.  My overall kill count was now up to six: four by accident, in defending myself, and two on purpose, out of reasonable necessity.

 

ASGORE

I then encountered the king, the one who had ordered everyone in his land to murder me in order to further his plans of genocide—for which plan he had already murdered six children.  To quote the king’s exact dialogue: “I said that I would destroy any human that came here.  I would use their souls to become godlike… Then, I would destroy humanity...”

(**The wiki says he plans “to kill seven humans and use their SOULs to break the barrier that traps everyone Underground. However, he is not evil or malicious” . . . Did whoever write the second sentence bother to read the first?)

I wished to accuse him of his crimes, of the deaths of the children and of the deaths of his own citizens (who had only died because he'd ordered them to murder me.  And . . . the game wouldn’t let me accuse him.  Instead, it made me listen to this child-murdering genocide-plotter give a long whiny speech about how it wasn’t his fault he murdered children.  He didn't want to do it; he didn't like it.  He just had to, y'see?

You are king.  You are king.  How dare you not want to dirty your own hands.  I guess it’s easy to order murder when you don’t have to do it yourself!  But it is your responsibility.  You evil murderer, how dare you!

Then the king attacked me, and I defeated him but didn't yet kill him.  As he lay wounded, he gave another whiney speech about how, really, he wasn’t a bad guy; he just murdered all those people because he wanted to give his people hope, but now doing that was too much bother (how tiresome child-murder and genocide had become!) and all he wanted was to go have a nicer life, so how about I just do what I like and leave him alone?  

How unbelievably selfish, capricious, and evil can you get?  But beyond that: what would happen if I did leave, and left you in charge, you murderer?  Of all the monsters I have met, it is you above all who deserve the name “monster”!  

And so, rather than let the king continue to do what he pleased, I killed him, determined to take his place as king: to rule the monsters as they should be ruled, to protect them without resorting to the evil methods of my predecessor.***  And without taking the monsters to the land of the humans, where their peaceful society would have been shattered into bloodshed.  Maybe someday, in small pieces, when the time was right.  But for now, when the monster society was peaceful and the king's prejudice strong and it had been established the monsters would easily be wiped out?  No.  I would bring about a fruitful society where we were.

(***But did the game allow this?  No, it crashed, made me fight a flower, and then had my character leave for the world of the humans, saying a robot was now king.  But that was not my choice.  My choice was not to leave.  My choice was to take responsibility and act as a king should act.)

 

I AM FRUSTRATED.

The story of the game accuses me of being a murderer and has all sorts of sad music for the actual murderers when they die.  It says—you must be a pacifist (but everyone else can be a murderer) or you’re just the worst!

Ultimately . . . this game, which is full of seeming choice, did not give me the choices I wanted: to accuse the king and to rule in his place.  (And yes, I’d have been allowed to rule in that society.  Apparently, any old person can rule it, based on how some endings allow a dog to rule, a celebrity robot to rule, the unknown Papyrus to rule, etc.)  

To survive with mercy, with sense, and with strength, to take what was broken and work with it, to take responsibility . . . these things, the game would not allow.

What a pity.  What a waste. And yet I stand by my character's decisions, every one of them, as reasonable and just and necessary.  

I would have been the king they needed.  And whatever the game says, I declare this my ending.

 

 

The Midnight Files has ended its serial novel run.

 After 2-1/2 years, I have taken The Midnight Files down from Amazon.  It had a good run, and I'm proud to say that it ended at #33 top faved across all genres and #6 in fantasy.  Thank you for everyone who read and enjoyed it!  It will be back some day, newly edited and in hardcover format.

Happy 2025, everyone!

The Future of the Midnight Files (Post-Kindle Vella)

 A few weeks ago, Amazon announced that they were closing down their serial novel publishing format, Kindle Vella.  I immediately published the entire rest of season 2 of The Midnight Files, to let readers have a complete book, and I will leave the story up through the end of 2024.  As I understand it, unlocked episodes will continue to be available in Kindle reading formats, but purchasing new episodes won't be possible..

So what happens now?

1. I'm still writing!  There will be a total of three books/seasons in this story.  The third book will probably take me two years to write.

2. In preparation for publishing in normal ebook/paperback/hardback format, I'm doing an intense edit of the story to improve the writing and ensure continuity.  From the start, the book was heavily edited; however, what one can do and see after the fact is different than in the process.  The books will be the same books, but they will be better versions of themselves.

3. This will take time.  How much time, I don't know.  I'll update you when I do!

The 50,000th Stair Finale

I haven't been updating my blog as frequently this year as I like (I try to get a post up at least once a month), but I have by no means been writing less!  I have been working on The Midnight Files, my serial novel that will be three seasons (well, books, really) long.  

I'm not generally a super fast writer.  I average a book every 2 years, and that book averages 80k words.  I wrote Season 2, The 50,000th Stair, in two years . . . and it is the longest book I've ever written at 147k words.  So, you know, I am still writing, and I'll start writing Season 3 (which doesn't yet have a title) no later than November 1.  In the meantime, I'm working on a different writing project with a friend of mine, which I hope to zip through quite quickly.

But none of that is exactly what I wanted to talk about.  Instead, I'm going to tell you, in brief, the story of The 50,000th's Stair's finale.

The Midnight Files is written episodically -- and not just in that it's posted in episodes.  The format of the story is, per season:

1st, introductory, assignment
    Interlude at the Agency or in the past
2nd assignment
    Continuation of previous interlude
3rd assignment
    Continuation of previous interlude
4th assignment
    Continuation of previous interlude
5th, season finale, assignment
    Season extras

In each case, the assignments are of fairly comparable length except that the season finale is twice as long.  In the case of Season 1, the assignments are between 7k and 11k words long and the season finale is 21k words long.  In Season 2, the assignments are 14-22k words long, and the season finale is almost 36k words long.

As I was writing Season 2, I could guess the season finale was going to be a tizzy (I estimated 30-35k words) and that it was going to take a long time to write.  I therefore set myself up for success, and managed to write quickly enough to give me seven months to write it before it was due.

Seven months!  Plenty . . . right?

Well, apparently not, because six months in, I had very little.  I knew (and from the season title, this shouldn't be a spoiler) my agents were going to travel down to the 50,000th stair and find something very interesting there.  I had written the descent and found I couldn't write any further.  Anything I tried, anything I planned, felt boring.  What was more, even the descent felt boring.  I struggled with it, and six of my seven months evaporated.  I was getting desperate.  I knew I needed to come at it from a different angle.  But how?

Then my sister told me our mutual friend had lent her a book of Lovecraft's short stories.  Now, I knew my friend had just read the 800-page book, and I'd heard of Lovecraft and even tried to read some of his stories before, but without success.  All I had gleaned was that they had a very certain sort of atmosphere . . . and a different atmosphere and new direction was exactly what I needed.  

"Dearest sister!" I cried.  "Lend me the book!  I need it now, this moment!  Despite never having had any interest in Lovecraft before, I'm going to immediately devour the whole thing and base my own story on its prose style, tropes, and philosophy!"

The fact that I'd tried to read a couple of his stories before and failed meant nothing.  I began immediately, and did exactly what I said I would.  I read the stories, and I rewrote the descent in something vaguely reminiscent of his style.  (I reference him clearly enough that readers familiar with his work should definitely recognize the influence; but, obviously, the writing, ideas, and content are wholly my own.)  

It worked.  It worked marvelously.  The finale basically wrote itself.  I rewrote the whole thing in two weeks (the first version was only 27k; I tend to be sparse on first writes) and then deeply edited the first portion and got it double-proofread before my seven months were out.

And then I collapsed.  I wasn't done, but I collapsed, because I'd been working 40 hours a week and also writing 20 to 40 hours a week for a month.  

But I wasn't done.  A month passed as I recovered, and then . . . and then a new opportunity came my way, one unrelated to writing, and I desperately needed to immediately start work on it.  So I gave myself a week and a half, and during that time I binge-rewrote and edited (while still working nearly full time) the rest of it, edited it, got it proofread, and did the season extras while I was at it.

All in all, from start to finish, almost all the writing took place within a 3 month period, with 6 months of me going in circles.  The finale ended up being long enough that, with the season extras, I was left with a 6-month lead before the next part is due.  That should be plenty of time . . . right?

The next part will not be Lovecraftian.  Obviously.  The beauty of The Midnight Files is that each assignment is in a different style and referencing different tropes and subgenres.  As for what it will be--?

I'll find out, I guess.

(Incidentally, the book of Lovecraft short stories I read is by the Library of America.  I highly recommend it.  It is a very high quality print, and they somehow fit 800 pages into one inch of spine, so it doesn't kill my poorhands.  I also, after reading all those stories, ended up not only liking the vast majority of them, but even really liking the one I previously couldn't get through, "The Shadow Out of Innsmouth" -- which, incidentally, benefits from being read with its companion story, also in that book.  (I read the stories out of order; when I came back to that one, I'd read about half of the rest of the book.)  For me, Lovecraft is an author I had to invest in to enjoy . . . though I still find his Cthulhu lore less interesting than many of his other elements.  Certainly, as he himself acknowledged, his best story by far is "The Colour Out of Space"; it is the epitome of its type and essentially without flaw.  But every story has something to recommend it.  I bought my own copy after reading my friend's, and I'll read it again.  Pity my dog gnawed on it.)

Flora: 10-Year Adoption Anniversary

Ten years ago, on 7/3/2014, I adopted Flora from the National Mill Dog Rescue—a wonderful organization. Dog mills (or puppy mills) for those who don’t know, are breeders who breed dogs irresponsibility, sacrificing the health and happiness of the dogs to make a quick buck. If you want to learn more about that corner of evil and get really, really angry, go ahead and google more about dog mills.

In any case, I'd been looking for a dog for four months by that point. I wanted a beautiful dog (and I prefer red dogs) and, more than anything, one that would love me. I wasn't allowed a puppy at my apartment, I so looked specifically for a dog between one and four years old. I knew nothing about Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, but just before I went to the rescue to look at a different dog, I spotted Flora's face on the rescue's website and did some research on her breed. At 3-1/2 years old, she was just inside my age specifications. When I got to the rescue, I looked first at the other dog and then, uncertain, met Flora.

She pressed herself against my leg and stared up at my with her giant, melting-chocolate, romance-heroine spaniel eyes. I told the rescue that as long as she didn't have any health issues, I'd adopt her--and I took her home a week later, after she'd been spayed.

She was pretty doped up at first, and to be honest, I had no idea what I was getting in for. She did love me; she never barked at me or was alarmed by me. She slept with her head on my shoulder and was always on my lap. . . .

And she urinated on my bed when she was upset, barked constantly at whoever came by, couldn't be left for even a short time due to severe separation anxiety that led her to cry the whole time I was gone. . . .

She had never gone up stairs, never had her belly rubbed, never seen her own reflection, never stepped on autumn leaves. . . .

Cavaliers are a breed who, beyond anything, love their people, and Flora now had a person. And I had a dog. I had someone to take on walks, someone to show off to my friends, someone to care for.

Flora and I have now lived together for 10 years, and our lives have wrapped around each other. The job I have, the way I designed my house, even the kitten I adopted -- all were because of Flora.

She's old now, of course, but still spry. She has the two inevitable Cavalier King Charles Spaniel issues (stage 2 mitral valve heart disease and syringomyelia), but both are controlled by medication; and other than that and a tiny touch of arthritis in her back, according to the bloodwork/ultrasounds/ x-rays she had half a year ago . . . "her values look like she's a puppy."

She's always been incredibly healthy, especially considering her background. We still walk about two miles a day. She still tears up and eats tissues. She is calm now, and friendly, and hardly barks at all. She goes up to strangers (including children) for pets. She follows my brother-in-law around for treats and loves my young nieces. She is happy and she is loved.

On this our anniversary, I will be donating to the wonderful National Mill Dog Rescue, website https://nmdr.org/. I highly encourage any of you who are looking for a place to do some good to do the same. And as for you who want to adopt a mill dog -- they can be the most wonderful companions. But be prepared also to be very patient. These dogs are horribly traumatized.

And thank you everyone who has helped them.

Day 1: 7/3/14

Ten years later

Books I Would Like to Write (But Probably Never Will): Part 3

Read Part 1 and Part 2

 

I Play Both Hero and Villain

So, it’s not impossible that I’ll one day write this book—perhaps in serial format—but I’m not sure I could write it the best.  The idea behind it is in the spirit of Japanese light novels.  Many of these follow protagonists who become either the hero or the villain, and so it occurred to me that it would be nice to have a story that did both.

It could be hilarious.

We begin by seeing a cliché villain-hero end fight:

“Do you think, hero,” the dark lord demanded, “that because you killed a few piddling minions and overcame my traps, you are a match for me?  Hah!  I am ten thousand times greater than the greatest of these, and I will crush you under my heel.”  Unlike before, when his voice had seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, now it was definitely located at the top of the stairs—at the figure who stood there, swathed in shadows.

Except that the hero is strangely incompetent at heroing, so the villain has to keep covering for him, something that annoys the villain greatly:

The Shadowfiend currently fulfilling the role of dark lord in this second-rate backwater, was significantly less amused.  What was the multiverse coming to that he, Toloman Vraak, had to deal with such incompetence?  Yet it had been increasingly like this for years.  He, who had once played the best roles, the deepest darkness battling the most shining golden light . . . he who had gone up against Tom Griffin in the most epic battle ever recorded . . . how could he be pitted against mediocre hero after mediocre hero?

Toloman finishes up his villain role by “dying” whereupon he returns to his agency, fed up with this nonsense, only to be told he’s being retired:

The Fox puffed out his breath.  He was, in his own opinion, a good-natured and put-upon soul, and he wasn’t without sympathy for the villain before him.  But he was also a man with a job, and Toloman was making that job a lot more difficult.  “I’ve explained this,” he said.  “Old-fashioned villains are old-fashioned, Toloman.  They haven’t been in vogue for decades.  You have to move with the times if you want the big roles.”

“I,” said Toloman, “am classic.”

“Yes—exactly!  That’s the problem.”

In a fit of rage (he is a professional villain, and magically powerful), Toloman kills his boss and escapes into a world to which a hip, sexy villain-type has been sent.  There, he intends to replace his rival and live out his glory years with one final chance to be the perfect villain.  He even plans to sneakily train the hero to be a worthy adversary.  But when he disguises himself as a wise old hermit and meets the “hero,” he is disgusted by what he finds:

“If you want a puppet you can push into saving the world or some other nonsense, look somewhere else,” George said.  “I’m no hero, and I’d just as well this garbage world burn.”  He seized his shovel, surprised at how angry he had become, and for the third time turned to go.

 “You are right,” said the hermit, “when you say you are no hero.”  He threw his arms up and shadows poured forth.  George only had time to see blue flames burst through the blindfold before the shadows stripped the flesh from his bones like a sock.  It took him a little more time to die, but not much.

Toloman clutched the discarded skin in his hand, seized by the determination that had barely begun, back in the Fox’s office.  He was still crying, the tears evaporating in the heat of his eyes.  “You were not worthy to be a hero,” he snarled at the skin, ‘and I will not have you sullying the name of Tom Griffin or Alan Sun or Owen MacLeon.  A true hero is brave and self-sacrificing.  A true hero believes in people no matter what.  Are there no heroes left in the multiverse?”

There was only one possible answer, and it bloomed within him like magic, pulling him to his feet.  He threw back his head and laughed.  “If a villain is only as good as his hero,” he cried, “let the hero be as good as his villain!  Then let me play hero and villain both—as both roles ought to be played.  Let us have a story such as has not been seen since Tom Griffin fought Toloman Vraak!”  In one movement, Toloman pulled on the hero’s skin, letting it mold over his own and sticking up the holes with shadows. 

Half a minute later, George Moon stood there once more, alone, with such an expression on his face as had never appeared there before.  “For you, Tom,” he said, “and for Alan and Owen and Ben—and even for you, Fox.  Let the Game begin!”

For the rest of the story, Toloman goes back and forth, trying to juggle both roles.  Being a hero is harder than it looks, and he keeps getting it wrong, because he is acting as the villain perceives the hero to act, rather than how the hero actually acts.  After the Agency discovers the Fox dead and figures out what happened, it gets Tom Griffin (the hero Toloman admired most from back in the day, and now a retired king) in after him.  Tom Griffin decides to beat the evil overlord by mentoring “George,” who is really Toloman in disguise, to be a true hero . . .

Oh, I love this idea so much.  It is absolutely delightful and potentially hilarious.  Maybe I will write it someday, possibly as a serial novel; but it intimidates me.  Since I really would like to read this book, I AM MAKING THE CONCEPT AVAILABLE UNDER A CREATIVE COMMONS COPYRIGHT.  That means you are able to use the basic concept (though preferably not the same character names), including for commercial use, as long as you properly credit me as follows:

Original story concept by Deborah J. Natelson (www.deborahjnatelson.com), used under a Creative Commons license.  

Please also send me a copy!

 

Other Books

There are a couple of other books floating about in my head, which I may or may not write; and, since this is getting pretty long, I’m not going to include here.  Ultimately, what I decide to write and not write isn’t entirely up to me: as demonstrated by the number of half-books I’ve written (including, alas, the sequel to Bargaining Power—which, when I write it, will be entirely different from the tens of thousands of words I’ve already put to paper), it’s what I’m able to write.  How strange, wonderful, terrible . . . and human.

Books I Would Like to Write (But Probably Never Will): Part 2

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.