In Character

WARNING: This blog post may contain colloquial language, vulgarity and discussion of different sex acts.

2ND WARNING: Author has had three cups of coffee

Sometimes, as authors, we view our stories and our plots with the detachment of an outsider. I'm not saying we don't get lost/caught up in our stories, because we do. What happens is more like worrying about making sure we get the road to lead where we want it to that we don't pay attention to the actual path.

I was editing a chapter today. In that chapter, Galen the bad guy is coping poorly with the fact that the now-dead ingenue from the previous book (Adelaide) has possessed him. To add insult to injury-- to use a cliché-- Adelaide has noticed a young man her age and her lust has left Galen with an erection. Galen gets into his car where his mate and fellow witch, Flidais, laughs at him for his predicament.

Now the basic road map for this scene required that Galen and Flidais drive from Point A to Point B. I got the sense upon reading it, that Flidais would do more than laugh at him. I spent the next 24 hours contemplating whether Flidais would give him a hand job or a blow job.

Yes, seriously.

One of my friends suggested a little bit of both. But that didn't seem right. As a writer, I typically can write through big problems. Little problems like this, or even smaller ones like what the characters had for dinner, can halt my progress for hours.

Today, I labeled why these things often stump me. It's not because of the sex acts. It stems from not thinking inside the character's head. The chapter I'm writing comes from Galen's third person limited point of view. I pondered the problem as if Galen had a say in which sex act Flidais performed. Which, he could ask, but he doesn't.

As soon as I considered the conundrum from Flidais' point of view, I had to weigh the magical consequences. In that case, a hand-job seemed vulgar and like a waste of male essence. She might try that if she wanted to weaken him or merely distract him. I think she would perform a sex act for her own gain. In that case, what can she receive?

In my series, any sex act has a supernatural weight to it and it all means something. Feminine power must be given, not taken. Masculine power must be taken. Sex, in the male/female intercourse variety, adds something to the universe and provides energy that can fuel rituals.

The answer became obvious, Flidais had to give Galen a blow job because she needed a shot of masculine power and that was an easy way to take it.

The moral of the story:
If you're stuck at a point where characters have to make a choice, make sure the characters reason out the problem and chose according to their motivations, not yours. Don't confuse the POV character's preferences with the character who is actually the one in control of the choice.

What does our writing convey?

I almost forgot to write today's entry. School started yesterday for me, and usually, when the schoolwork starts, my time to write disappears. I have two classes this semester. Both are very interesting to me...

This will relate to writing, stay with me.

Last night I had my history colloquium, Modern French Identities. This afternoon, I had my special seminar in Values in Science and Technology on Body Politics. Having a French family in my novel and a fashion house... Well, it should be a fun semester.

My identity is full of contradictions. I'm an educated, bilingual feminist addicted to fashion. I'm not a naturally patient maternal-type, but I wish I could have been a stay-at-home mom. I have trouble, psychologically, how parents can leave their kids in daycare for eight hours a day. If they sleep ten, go to daycare eight, spend one in the car, another eating, another getting dressed/ready for bed, when do you get to enjoy your kid?

But that's another argument.

I also don't believe it's the mother's job to stay home with the babies.

Again, wrong argument.

But we talked a bit about women, self-esteem, body-image and cultural expectations today in class. We each had to draw a picture of our bodies and show it to the class, and rate our comfort with our bodies on a scale of 1 to 1o.

The one male in the class said 10.

The highest woman's score was 8.5. Mine was 8.

The teacher pointed out that in the years she's taught the class, no woman has EVER given herself a 9, and when the classes had a better gender ratio, the men never went LOWER than a 9.

We talked a lot about how society makes gender myths into reality, how we train women to be graceful, more petite. How men are strong. How a woman always needs to lose weight but a man always wants to be "bigger."

And we talked about the era of Photoshop and how the people in the pictures don't even look like the people in the pictures, not in real life.

And this made me think: What societal biases/ideals do we convey in our writing?

I write about a fashion house, and my fashion designer Étienne loves women, loves curves, and complains how thin the modern models are. His supermodel Adelaide is a Cindy Crawford body shape, and she has self-esteem issues. Throughout the first novel, she keeps comparing herself to the girl in the photos and thinking that she will never be that girl. And she's the top model! So, am I writing a satire? a commentary?

In book two, she accuses Étienne of hiring her only for her beauty, and he tries to deny it, but she does screw things up and he forgives her probably because she's pretty. ]

Next week's class will look at intersexuals, or what used to be called hermaphrodites. For instance, girls (as in genetic XX) born with enlarged genitalia that resembles a phallus. Many doctors will cut it off and not consult the parents. In some cases, this removes the infant's clitoris or disconnects the nerves. Now those who know me know I tend to go ballistic at the practice of circumcising the penis of a boy child, and I certainly wouldn't want them hacking body parts off my child without my permission. I don't care if my little girl had a full-blown penis.

Anyway.

The magic word was hermaphrodite. I read of one intersexual disorder: Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome I believe. With this disorder, a traditionally male fetus (XY genetically) cannot process testosterone and will exit the womb looking like a girl. In many cases with labia and a vagina. And potentially with an enlarged clitoris of like an inch. At puberty, the child will develop hips and other apparently female characteristics because of the estrogen produced even though the child does not have ovaries or a uterus. Despite the fact that the body DOES have testes and produce testosterone, the body cannot use any of it. In some cases, the person may be oddly hairless in the armpits and pubic areas.

Based on genetics, this person is male. He/she would appear and act female. The sex is male. The gender is female. Roll that around your mind.

The supernatural forces in my novel are based on masculine and feminine elemental magic. Sex rituals have profound power because of the interaction of masculine with feminine. Air and fire are masculine elements, and earth and water feminine. Your sex does not dictate your ability to do magic, but the magic itself has a gender. So regardless of your physical sex, your gender has to be balanced in order to master all four elements.

Wouldn't one of these women with AIS, then have the capacity to be the perfect witch? It's a woman with a Y chromosome. That's a unique form of balance.

The nightmare progresses...

My last post focused on revising a nightmare for one of my main characters. I would feel remiss if I didn't post my latest draft to show you the changes. This is still not final...

She stood at the conference room table of her former employer, Minerva Pollux. She gazed to the window, Lower Manhattan pierced by her bold and surprisingly thin reflection in a cranberry red suit. She turned, as if in slow-motion, the faces around the table coming into focus one by one. Twelve people surrounded the table, twelve old American men with gray hair and pinstripe suits, the type of men who smoked cigars and drank Scotch, each one a client. She could match these men in business smarts, in ruthlessness, even with imbibing alcohol and net worth, but she would never smoke a cigar. Galen sat at the foot of the table, striking a metallic blade against his palm over and over.
They waited for something. What? Basilie retrieved her BlackBerry from her pocket, splitting her attention between that and the television on the wall. The market remained steady. The name of the company on the stock ticker triggered her memory. They had gathered for a hostile takeover. Basilie had orchestrated it, leveraging her investors’ cash, Minerva Pollux’s reputation, and her own ability to carve the company into profitable pieces for the highest bidders. Oh, yes, Basilie did this all the time. Creeping tender offers from new shareholders taking advantage of a proxy fight...
Basilie stepped closer to the table, a crunch stopping her. Her rosary laid on the floor. As she knelt to retrieve it, her reflection caught her eye again, except this time, she wore simple robes instead of her suit. Her body glowed. A baby cried in the distance. Her breasts ached as she heard it. The BlackBerry rumbled. She read the number and answered her ‘mole.’
“They spun it off. Your department. Your crown jewel. They saw you coming.”
The ribbon on the screen announced the news. The value of her stock had plummeted when the corporation had spun off its core department.
“Damn it,” Basilie snapped.
Millions lost. Basilie turned to the table. She opened her mouth to relay the news and the clients transformed into... family. Her father sat to her right, then her grandfather and grandmother Saint-Ebène. The couple beside them might have been her great-grandparents on her father’s side. Others next to them bore a strong resemblance. The man closest to Galen rose from the table. A woman neighboring him wept. He had the sword. He extended it as he approached Galen, the ornate gold hilt fitting perfectly in his hand. She recognized the crest on the sword, and peered closer at the man with it. She could have been looking in the mirror. She saw her face, in the masculine.
“He has it,” her doppelgänger told her in middle French. “Matris Virginis—”
Galen punched him in the face, interrupting his statement.

Without knowing the exact plot, how much symbolism can you decipher? If she were your friend and she asked for help deciphering this dream, what would you say?

A nightmare

I am 'ahead' of schedule on chapter seven of my revisions on Courting Apparitions. This pleases me, even though I'm losing hope of how 'worthwhile' this all is. I listen to published writers struggle with selling their second and third books, editors from 'dream publishers' that publish a book and then take a year to say no to the next, not to mention the hundreds of rejections we, the unpublished, receive.

But I push those thoughts from my mind. Right now I'm writing for me. So I have more than one book 'done' to the level I like. To prove my ability and professionalism to myself in order to sell it confidently to others.

I'm working on a nightmare.

Literally.

This was the early draft(s):
She stood at the head of the conference room table, gazing halfheartedly at the view of Lower Manhattan as she noticed her own reflection in the glass. She wore a cranberry red suit. She looked meticulous, bold and surprisingly thin. Twelve people surrounded the table, with Galen opposite her. Galen struck a metallic blade against his palm, over and over. She turned to a television. The red ribbon, the same color as her suit, flashed a message across the bottom of the screen. The market remained steady.
Basilie had orchestrated this hostile corporate takeover with financing from some of the Minerva Pollux’s major investors, leveraging her ability to carve the company into profitable pieces for the highest bidders.
She looked at the men around the table, all men, all men except for her, all gray-haired men with severity in their faces. Each of these men, clients of the firm, had purchased enough stock to join in her creeping tender offer. Between their new influence as shareholders and the proxy fight Basilie’s operatives had stumbled upon, the deal should happen quickly and ruthlessly. While a good, old-fashioned corporate raid didn’t make sense these days, this one did, because Basilie had a client who wanted the core of the business. He just wasn’t willing to pay for the entire corporation. So, Basilie would deliver the piece he wanted. The BlackBerry in Basilie’s pocket rumbled.
She answered it. Her ‘mole’ was on the other end.
“They spun it off.”
“What do you mean?” Basilie replied.
“Your department. Your crown jewel. They saw you coming. They spun it off. We... I mean the board... no longer control it. They set up their own board and IPO.”
The ribbon on the TV screen announced the news. The value of her stock, the stock she bought for the men now gathered around the table, had plummeted as soon as the corporation had spun off its core department.
“God dammit,” Basilie snapped.
Millions lost. The gray-haired men in their navy blue suits rose from the table. They swarmed her, grabbed her, some holding her while others bit her and drank her blood. She pulled, but she couldn’t go anywhere. Everywhere she looked she saw arms. She shivered. She looked at Galen, sitting sentinel at the end of the table. The blade continued swinging up and down, until Basilie wondered: Was that her family sword? Then the heads of the gray-haired men moved away from her, and each of them had eyes like opals.

The writing is far from an example of my best. But that's why it's an early draft.

Now that I have this draft, I'm working on refining what it needs to do:

• The premise of a failed corporate raid is exactly how this character's psyche would process what's been happening in her life. BUT I've changed the intensity of what has happened before this dream, so the content of the dream must clearly foreshadow struggles to come.
• The 'crown jewel' needs to represent the feminine magic Galen has stolen from women over the generations
• The sword must be described
• Should Basilie's family members slowly replace the clients? What about Adelaide? How does she fit?
  
• Should the baby Basilie is carrying factor into this dream. I think so.

• Finally, I scribbled this note on a piece of paper today: "What does the magic say to Z? (Basilie)

Hopefully, by the end of the day, I will have the answers.

Characters with a healthy libido

In my spare time, I serve on several non-profit boards. One I truly enjoy is my role as trustee at my local library. My family and I helped with the book fair this year, our big fund-raiser. My daughter even did her share.

At the book fair, one woman carefully looked through all the fiction in hopes that we might have an author recommended to her. She was a big fan of Nicholas Sparks and his love stories. (He makes me cringe.) Someone had told her this other author had similar stories of love "without all the intimate stuff."

I almost laughed. But then I bought the Anaias Nin books from the sale tables.

My characters have a healthy libido. There is a very good reason for this. Two fold.

1. My stories involve a supernatural element. This means magic. And whether you draw on magic or religion, the obvious and universal truth is sex = creation. My magical characters exploit this creative power. My mundane ones also manipulate it, though they know not what they do.
2. Each character's sexual relationships reinforce who they are. And their attitudes toward one another. Not a single one of my sex scenes is gratuitous. They all serve a specific purpose.
   

For example:

• The supermodel exudes sex and attracts men. Obvious on one level. But because she has this tendency to attract men, she also can't have a healthy relationship, because they seek her merely for sex. This destroys her self-esteem, despite the fact that she's a supermodel.
• Étienne and Basilie. The divorced couple who never stopped acting married. In the first book, they have sex. (In the office, at home, even a reference to conceiving their child in a car at the airport.) In the second book, they can't. This has been a central focus of their relationship for 25 years and suddenly it's gone. How do they reconnect?
• Étienne. For him, alcohol increases his desire for sex. Which actually plays into the plot line when alcohol plays into the confirmation or the dismissal of charges of his misconduct. Especially when you add the problem of the supermodel listed above.
• Flidais. My evil female witch, a smaller character, but an important one. When she conducts blood rituals, she uses the blood of an aroused male. More creative power.
  
• Galen, the main bad guy, manipulates desire to gain feminine power from his victims.

When you look at characters, they can hide so much of themselves in their actions. If you want to convey how two characters feel about each other or reveal something about their true natures, put them in bed. They won't be able to hide.