So I’ve been participating in this year’s Poetry Challenge from Writers Digest, only following the prompts a day behind because my time zone means I’m too early to get the actual day’s prompt, apparently. I’ve also done some experimentation with Canva to make them look pretty. Let me know what you think!
It’s time to start packing what we need for winter. We don’t call it fall here, but the leaves are starting to turn yellow and fall from the trees. It’s not winter yet, but it will be soon, and it’s going to be a harder and colder winter than the ones that have come before. You can feel the chill in the air, and the fear that is going around. Fear is catching.
Warning: Here be spoilers.
In Chapter 2, Nancy meets Kade, sorts out her wardrobe problem, and navigates her first dinner in this new place. We also meet Jack and Jill, who provide a little more information about the worlds on the Compass.
“I’m Kade, by the way. Fairyland.”
This isn’t the first time we’ve been shown how people here link their identities to the worlds they’ve been — it’s the first thing Eleanor asks Nancy, after all. Here, though, it is hammered in that for these characters, the worlds they went to are their core. We learn a fair bit about Kade just from hearing him talk and seeing where he lives — he likes books, he like them properly organised, and he works with fabric. That’s not how he introduces himself, though. He introduces himself with the story of how he was snatched into another world, fought in a war, and was tossed back when they found he was different. His core is Prism.
We see this to a lesser extent with some of the other characters in this chapter. When Nancy calls Sumi ‘abrupt,’ Eleanor explains it by talking about Sumi’s world and how Sumi survived it. We don’t know much about Jack and Jill’s world for the moment, but we see that they miss it, and it is hinted that some of their odd character quirks, such as an iron rich diet, are linked to their past experiences.
“They want the world to be exactly the way it was before their children went away on these life-changing adventures, and when the world doesn’t oblige, they try to force it into the boxes they build for us.”
Each of the characters in this book has been forced into a box on some level, just by living in this world. The world outside the school denies their adventures, calls them impossible, and tries to fit them in a box marked ‘Realistic Experiences.’ Only, as we saw above, their impossible experiences form the core of their identity.
This isn’t the only way these characters are forced into boxes, though. Kade’s gender identity means that other people, including other students, have tried to put in a box that doesn’t fit, marked ‘girl.’ Nancy remembers past experiences navigating social situations, showing how the people we associate with can put us into boxes we don’t necessarily fit in.
Interestingly enough, the world-building seems to run counter to this theme. Here, we get an explanation of some of the terms that have been thrown around: Nonsense, Logic, Wickedness and Virtue are all points on the compass, categories by which we can categorise the different worlds these students have travelled to. However, we are told that there are trends. Most Nonsense worlds are Virtuous, implying Logic worlds are Wicked. This desire to categorise, to fit things under neat labels and make decisions based on how we label things is something everyone does, even those who have felt the pain of being wrongly labelled.
Mystery and Plot
We don’t get much here that relates to the mystery. More references to students murdering each other, jokes that will turn out to be in bad taste in hindsight.
This in itself is interesting. People keep saying that slow starts are no longer favoured by readers, but here we are, two chapters in and no real plot. What we do have is character drama and conflict. If the world and the characters are interesting enough, then the reader is drawn in regardless of the amount of action on the page.
The old god sat in a corner of his workshop and regarded his creation. It was nearly done. He’d laid the foundations of fire and clay, he’d shaped the mountains and the seas, he’d planted the seeds that would grow into grasses and trees. He had spent the last several hours painting each grain of sand just the right shade of gold, each wave in the ocean the right shade of blue, and each cloud just the right shade of silver-grey. This world was his masterpiece. It was lighter than the ones he’d made before, but heavier than the airy worlds his brothers and sisters made. It needed only a few finishing touches: balancing the poles, stoking the fires within to just the right heat, giving the mountaintops one final polish. Once he was done, this world would outshine all the others.
Warning: Here be spoilers.
In Chapter 1, our heroine Nancy arrives at Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children. Recently returned to this world from the Halls of the Dead, Nancy is greeted by the eccentric Eleanor, and then placed in a room with rhyme-loving, hope-dashing Sumi. When she finds out her parents have switched the contents of her suitcase, Sumi steals her luggage. Nancy follows.
Character and Point of View
“The habit of narration, of crafting something miraculous out of the commonplace, was hard to break. Narration came naturally after a time spent in the company of talking scarecrows or disappearing cats; it was, in its own way, a method of keeping oneself grounded, connected to the thin thread of continuity that ran through all lives, no matter how strange they might become. Narrate the impossible things, turn them into a story, and they could be controlled.”
This opening paragraph is a great set-up to the whole story, both in terms of character and theme. Let’s focus on character for now. By the end of the passage we find out this is still Eleanor’s point of view. This thought is hers, and the description that follows is her narration of her own story. So we not only get a lovely description of the setting, this description is tied to character.
The advantage of having Eleanor open the chapter is that we get to have a good look at Nancy, our protagonist, without Nancy having to describe herself. It’s also a sign to the reader that we aren’t going to be deep in Nancy’s head all the time, so we won’t be jerked out of the story when the point of view shifts. Note we don’t get a description of Eleanor’s clothes until Nancy sees them. This makes sense because Nancy would note them, while Eleanor would not.
As we move on, we get to know these characters better, mostly through dialogue. Everyone has their different way of talking. Everything out of Sumi’s mouth is almost poetry, and I imagine all to be in that sing-song voice some children are wont to use. Eleanor at least makes sense, but she certainly rambles as well, and clearly confuses Nancy. Nancy talks the least. Because we’re in her head, we see that there is a lot that she is thinking that she doesn’t say.
Let’s revisit that opening quote, especially the last line: “Narrate the impossible things, turn them into a story, and they could be controlled.” That’s all well and good, but who controls the story? This turns out to be an important question, as the story you tell about yourself usually doesn’t match the story other people tell about you.
In this chapter, we see a few instances where the stories other people tell about Nancy, the assumptions they make about her, don’t fully match up to who she is, the story she tells about herself. The first, rather small example, is Eleanor being uncertain of her choice of room. She assumes that since Nancy went to an underworld, it must be a Nonsense world, but then notices the precise way Nancy handles her luggage and wonders if she might be wrong about that. Often when we meet people, we make up stories based on what we know, and those often turn out to be incorrect. This is also the case when Sumi assumes Nancy dyes her hair. In this case, Sumi touches a nerve. Nancy’s hair and the story behind it is important to her, and she gets angry about the idea that it could be any other way.
We see the real dangers of other people’s stories when Nancy discovers her parents have repacked her suitcase. Nancy’s parents have a wildly different story of their daughter – for them, she was kidnapped and returned as somebody they didn’t know. They view her changes as negative, whereas Nancy views it as finally becoming herself. As they are her parents, they have some power to enforce their story by switching her clothes out for ones they think are more suitable for her. This is hammered home by their note. They think she is, as Sumi notes, somebody else’s rainbow. Nancy’s parents think they have the right to decide who Nancy is, and they are going to do what is in their power to help enforce that. Will it work? Is that right? We’ll find out going forward.
Mystery and Plot
I want to use this section to talk about the murder mystery elements, and on the surface, there aren’t any of those in this chapter. I will just note that I don’t think it is an accident that Nancy comes from the Halls of the Dead. This is a way to highlight that death is going to be a large part of the story without shoving it in our faces. Likewise, Eleanor’s ‘joke’ that roommates might murder one another becomes foreshadowing in hindsight. It’s also a sign that many of these people don’t get along, thus hinting at the social dynamics that will cause some conflict in the coming pages.
Like any good first chapter, this one is mostly set up. It asks the big questions, introduces the major characters and their voices, and builds the world. Next time we will meet some of the other students here, and whether their stories are their own.
This is new series in which I analyse Seanan McGuire’s novella Every Heart A Doorway, chapter by chapter. Every Heart a Doorway is a story about a boarding school for children who have come back from the fantastical journeys to other worlds. Whether it be the Halls of the Dead, a world of insects, or the setting for every gothic horror ever, each child had found a world where they felt at home, and now have to deal with the fact they aren’t there anymore. (Also, they have to deal with the fact that they’ve had experiences most people wouldn’t believe.) Also, there’s a murder mystery.
Yes, it’s a cliche. Yes, most people abandon these things before February. I don’t care. I’m doing it anyway.
I’ve had a surprisingly good track record with New Years Resolutions. Last year’s one was setting up and posting regularly to this site, and aside from taking a break in November, I did pretty well at that. In a previous year, I fulfilled my resolution to cycle from Bag End to Rivendell using this tracker (to be fair, I used an exercise bike so I will admit that it may not have been entirely accurate). It does help that the things I’ve chosen don’t require massive amounts of effort, and can be sustained throughout the year. Something to keep in mind.
Here’s my list:
- Finish editing Summer at Hotel Fulcrum: This is less a Resolution than it is my immediate goal. (It was supposed to be my December goal. Never mind.) I’m more than halfway through my second pass, so soon my previous posts will look very different and you’ll have to read them again. Sorry.
Deadline: 13 January
- Write and compile an anthology: I’ve been looking over some of my old stories, and noticed a common theme in a few of them: they tackle the issue of death and what lies beyond. So I’m going to write a couple more stories to flesh that out, and try my hand at putting together an e-book with the (working) title Beyond Death. If all goes well, I will attach this as a freebie to anyone who signs up to my email newsletter.
Deadline: 1st July
- Regularly send an email newsletter: What’s the point of having a freebie to sign up otherwise, right? Very few people have signed up so far, but to be honest, I’m astounded and privileged that there have been people letting me into their inbox. So I will be writing and sending a newsletter every month, just for them.
Deadline: Ongoing. Every Month.
Out of the three, I think the anthology is the biggest and scariest goal. This will be my first foray into formatting a book for publication. But I have a timeline, I have a plan, and it’s going to happen.
I think that’s one of the key things to keeping resolutions. Never entertain the thought that they might fail.
So here’s to the New Year, and success to your every endeavour.
Part 12: Earth’s Magic
Janet sat up and waited for the world to stop spinning.
“How did you get here?” Telar snarled. His white cloak was slightly smudged, and it had settled on his body, still for the first time.
Janet blinked. The room was mostly empty, but there were still chairs and tables stacked in the corners. Tendrils of tarnished silver stretched from the walls, pulling other threads with them. Was he calling other magic to this room? She stood up. That was going to end.
Part 11: Traitor
Janet got to her feet and looked around. She had never seen this room before. There was a desk to her right, and in the left corner, a bed. A dark suit was draped over a chair. This must be Hela’s room, Janet realised with an uncomfortable start.
Hela was between her and the door, angrier than Janet had ever seen her. “Explain.”