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The Complete Lamia and Dragon Sequence from Tales of the Shonri

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The Tales of the Shonri is arranged into storylines, which I call sequences because they are sequences of stories.  These sequences will form the basis for future novels and novellas; the Witch and the Warrior sequence has already been published as ‘Tales of the Shonri: City of Lights’

Here is the link to the complete Sequence of the Lamia and the Dragon, which is made up of 31 installments.

 

http://talesoftheshonri.wordpress.com/sequences/the-lamia-and-the-dragon/

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http://walkingtheduck.wordpress.com/2013/09/18/iou-a-story-that-works-narrative-debt/

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I first came across the term ‘Narrative Debt’ in the appendices to the extended edition on the Two Towers DVD and it struck a chord with me. As a pantser I work with narrative debt all the time, so I understood the concept; I just didn’t have a name for it.

To my mind it is a variation on ‘Chekov’s Gun’. Anton Chekov said, ‘Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it is not going to be fired, it should not be hanging there.’

Which is a tad prescriptive.

But it also has more than a grain of truth in it.

Not surprising. He was, after all, a great writer.

Go to Walking the Duck to read more

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The Lamia and the Dragon Part Eighteen

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Ozandris dropped away from the cliff-face, his wounds completely healed by the combined effects of the Scryer-marks and the spell of creation. He tucked his  wings in tight, gaining speed in the dive. In the conjoined mind within the Dragon’s skull Cinome and the Inoxit were silent; the silence of the hunt.

The Dragon’s wings snapped out, catching the air. It swooped low over the village, spotted the Shonri running towards the shattered houses and ignored them. They were not Felice, they were not the Shonri who could sense his mind. The Dragon knew this from the mind of Cinome, from the hunting senses of the Inoxit. Ozandris and the others were beginning to merge, to become a single mind, in the heat of battle.

It spiralled upwards with tremendous speed, its ascent almost vertical, skimming over the cliff-face it had clung to only a moment before. It would burst over the top of the mountain, high above the mountain, and then it would drop down upon Felice in the stoop of an eagle, fast and vicious with its flame blazing a path before it.

The Shonri had magic.

The Dragon did not care.

It had magic of its own.

Go to Tales of the Shonri if you want to read more of this story

 

Apologies: I have neglected these postings for the last month or so, it has been a very busy six weeks, but the Tales of The Shonri Site is now up to date.

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The Lamia and the Dragon Part Sixteen


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Ozandris flew along the ridge.

Faster. Faster.

Dive upon these puny Shonri.

As they crouched there, waiting for the attack.

Unleash his flame upon them.

Then away, up, spiral, turn, swoop back upon them.

Use his talons.

Rip them, tear them, shred them.

Then away, down over the edge of the mountain.

Turn, return, more flame, again and again, rip them to shreds, boil their blood.

Burn them.

Rend them.

End them.

Go to Tales of the Shonri if you want to read more of this story

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In Praise of Editors: from first draft to last it is always a blast

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I write pretty good prose first time up, but I want my finished work to fall somewhere between pretty good and perfect.

Pretty good, ain’t good enough. And perfect ain’t possible.

And that is where my editors come in.

First up strike the beta readers, who aren’t editors as such but people who read the first draft and go: ‘Did you really mean that?’ ‘What is all that about?’ ‘I like this guy?’ ‘Is this even English?’

Go to Walking the Duck to read more

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So who the hell’s head are we in now?

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Transitions between scenes, between acts, between storylines, are an important part of storytelling. They ease the reader from one place to another without making their eyes stop as they pause to try to puzzle out where the hell they are.

But in multiple POV storytelling, transitions are vital.

Who? What? Where? When?

Those four questions have to be answered at every transition from one POV to another.

Why?

Go to Walking the Duck to read more of this post

Image attribution: every stock Photo

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The Lamia and the Dragon Part Fifteen

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Haram wiped the sweat from his face. He had dropped down with Lorak and Trant to pull the young-ones to safety after their crazy fall, but his mind kept returning to the ledge above, returning to the memory of the last free Turmerix left in this hive, handing him the talon, returning to Lucina.

The dragon’s talon was three-foot long, curved like a scimitar, sharp enough to flense the skin from a man’s flesh and strong enough to tear through rock. It had power, this claw of a beast long thought extinguished, magic was formed into its matrix.

Lucina! Even there, standing on that ledge, looking at her in the form of giant insect, he had felt the call of her.

She was gone now….

Go to Tales of the Shonri if you want to read more of this story

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Structure is not a Formula

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A formula is a precise mix of ingredients put together in exactly the same way to achieve the same result every time. Which is fine for cleaning agents, but not so good for stories because a formula is easy to see working in a story.

The ‘Ordinary World’ beginning. Oh look he’s a farm boy feeding the chickens. Oh look she’s a cop just going on shift. Oh look he’s a rich playboy waking up from another night of excess. Oh look she’s a CEO dealing with the board.

Yeah, that opening is so stale it’s beginning to stink.

Go to  Walking the Duck to read more

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Tales of the Shonri: The Lamia and the Dragon Part Fourteen

Zaj reached the hole in the ceiling of the cavern. The chamber below bloody red, filling with lava so quickly now, pushing upwards a flood of superheated rock, bubbling towards the tiny figures of the climbing Shonri.

Kuli dangled below him. Hanging free. It was quicker this way, no need for handholds. They would leave a rope for the others to climb. Climbing fast, Kuli didn’t see the pack of Turmerix waiting for her in a broken open birthing chamber.

Go to Tales of the Shonri if you want to read more of this story

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Tales of the Shonri: A Broken Tribe

Blood glistened in the sunlight, sweeping from the edge of Elamouf’s blade in a crescent spray. A foe fell, lost to the Echo, to the darkness that had stolen his soul. Heat pounded through Elamouf’s veins, his throat parched, his skin no longer able to sweat, ragged breaths dragged through his lips, air that smelled of blood, of dust, of battle’s sweet taste.

Go to Tales of the Shonri if you want to read more of this story

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