Rose is a mercenary for the Medieval Office, a for-hire band of otherwise would-be criminals, helping out the citizenry of Broke Kingdom. She’s intelligent, strong, but impatient with, uh, amateurs.
It’s hard to look at a blank page and start something new. But isn’t that where this life – the universe – began? I’m not concerned with the origin of the existence of all things. What I am interested in is in starting something new for me.
Each time I set out to write something new, I feel that I don’t know enough. That people will balk at me; ignore me; trash me as someone who knows nothing. But don’t we all know nothing in the beginning? Aren’t we all here to be new to the world and the world new to us?
I will not let such ignorance of reality stand in front of me as a mocking crowd – of people who dared not to try, but often dared to decry those who try.
So I fail to “make it” as an author. Does this mean I failed as a human, and should feel ashamed? No, it does mean I should – no, want to – grow and learn from that failure. I don’t “pivot” or “realize it means I should do something else.” It simply means to learn and keep trying.
“Desi”, I asked, “What is one item from your childhood that is most important to you?”
“Definitely my spider daisy, that my sister and I made.”
“How old were you when you and Merin made it?”
Desi pulled her orange spider daisy from her hair, made of fabric, and twirled it between her fingers. “I was about eight or nine. It was when we first lived on the island.”
I had to know, “What does it mean to you?”
Desi smiled and leaned back to think on this for a moment, for perhaps she had never questioned it. “It’s a symbol of our connection as sisters. We told each other the gift we made was our lucky charm. Since then I’ve felt I can do anything, with little question if it would work out.”
“What did you make for your sister?”
“This,” Desi answered, holding the puka shell necklace, one she has worn for several years now.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked that. “I’m sorry about your loss. I’m sure Merin was a loving person.”
“Thank you,” Desi replied. She seemed to take it well. Perhaps Desi thought of positive memories of her sister. Perhaps she thought how she could grow stronger from a lesson learned from the loss. “Now, I use it as a reminder, that I have more than one lucky charm; my sister’s confidence is with me.”
“Her spirit is with you?”
When I began writing eight years ago, I intended to help others by sharing knowledge. It brought me the growth I sought. Readers acknowledged, related, and were supportive.
My writing evolved. As Desi, Walton, and The Quest Logs, were born, I ventured into humor articles, and a new value emerged. I felt happy simply entertaining readers. The “hard work” and seriousness I felt before did not make me happy.
Being serious makes me feel that I’m looking for others to have a certain response; seeking their approval. As an author, or someone who is creative, it’s imperative that approval of others be the last thing on my mind during the creative process.
Humor and fantasy writing has opened my heart, and I feel great joy when I write my stories. I will, for entertainment as my value in writing, keep my works short. I want readers to laugh and smile, even if only on the inside. I want readers to feel they have joined my characters in their trials, victories, and growth.
I have taken my 120,000+ fourth draft, and ripped it to shreds — digitally, anyway. I am nearly done with my first short story, which I only started working on a couple months ago. What was originally 8,000 or so words of that 120,000, has grown to nearly 30,000 words of an entertaining introduction to the world of The Quest Logs – no, more importantly, Desi‘s experience of The Quest Logs.
I love it when I feel that my beloved characters take on a life of their own. When I write and discover that they are determining the decisions they make, I feel a loss of control, but a joy of pride. A pride that I have given to them the freedom of choice and expression, and try as I might to control their story, they seem to surprise me.
The other night, as I was planning future stories, Desi Baron surprised me with her own twist on her character. It’s something I won’t reveal, but it’s nice to see that not only has she chosen her own traits, but also her flaws. It has certainly transformed her story into something great, and her into a more believable woman.