Bad Influences in Time and Space

I mentioned last time that I don’t write scifi—as such—and that even my scifi books are more in the way of fantasy to me than actual scifi. And over on the Amid the Imaginary blog I talked about a few of the influences that brought me to write A Time Traveller’s Best Friend and Memento Mori in the format they’re in. AKA, not in chronological order and with some of the stories from Vol 2 ducking in between some of the stories from Vol 1. 

Today, I’m going to talk more about the influences that led to the skewed, oddball way in which the Time Traveller’s Best Friend series was written.

Specifically, I’m going to talk about the biggest influence.

For those of you who haven’t read the ARC of Memento Mori—but are, I will presume, frothing at the mouth to read it—this is the dedication:

For Steven Brust.

It was through reading his Vlad books out of order—and thoroughly enjoying the intricate story structures therein—that I came to realise how much I enjoy reading stories told in a non-linear fashion.

In my Time Traveller’s Best Friend series, I am forcing my readers to share that particular pleasure.

So, if you’re confused with Kez and Marx’s adventures and frustrated by the lack of a linear storyline—

Please feel free to blame Steven Brust.

I mean, Steven Brust isn’t the only influencer for this series, but his amazing story structures have always stirred up a spirit of emulation in me—in fact, I’ve written about them before here on The WR(ite) Blog. If you’re familiar with Steven Brust’s work at all, you should also find a nod to him in one particular character’s name.

Guys, you GOTTA read it. This is still my favourite Steven Brust book, though all of the Vlad books are fantastic.

It was by reading the Vlad Taltos series out of order (unavoidably, at first, and then on purpose when I found out how much fun it was to read them that way) that I came to realise that things don’t necessarily have to happen in chronological order for a reader to be able to connect events and characters. Moreover, the truly amazing story structure of several of the books (like Dragon, which jumped from past to present and somehow met in the middle in the most satisfying way) proved that things don’t necessarily have to be told in exact chronological order within the confines a book, either. And since I was already writing time travel fiction…

The rest, as they say, is history. I mean, “they” probably weren’t talking about a tiny indie author and her books, but whatever. This is my blog. If I want to indulge in shameless self-aggrandisement, who’s going to stop me?

Oh! And one last thing: A Time Traveller’s Best Friend has a 99c sale going on at the moment. So, yanno; get it while it’s cheap, and don’t forget to grab Memento Mori before its new release price jumps from $2.99 to $3.99 on the ‘Zon…

Villanelles And Story Structure

Villanelles and Story Structure. What do they have in common?

Absolutely nothing.

Well, except for the purely personal connection that I studied them both this week. Also, if you think about it, villanelles have a very rigid structure that- huh. Maybe they do have something in common. But I digress. Or do I? I’m not sure anymore.

Let me start again. This week I discovered a structured form of poetry known as villanelle thanks to Harriet Goodchild, who besides being a talented (and rather terrifyingly clever) author, is also a talented poet. Basically, a villanelle is a poem with five stanzas of three lines, followed by one stanza of four lines (a total of nineteen lines, if you’re counting). According to Wikipedia, “It is structured by two repeating rhymes and two refrains: the first line of the first stanza serves as the last line of the second and fourth stanzas, and the third line of the first stanza serves as the last line of the third and fifth stanzas. The rhyme-and-refrain pattern of the villanelle can be schematized as A1bA2 abA1 abA2 abA1 abA2 abA1A2 where letters (“a” and “b”) indicate the two rhyme sounds, upper case indicates a refrain (“A”), and superscript numerals (1 and 2) indicate Refrain 1 and Refrain 2″.

Basically, it’s the sudoku of poetry. The second lines of each stanza have to rhyme with each other, as do the first and third (until you get to the sixth stanza, where the first, third and fourth lines all rhyme with each other). It’s incredibly structured, and incredibly difficult to write. (Yes, I tried). It’s also oddly freeing to write, and the structure feels more like a guide than a constraint.

Besides being interesting in it’s own right, it was also interesting to consider the villanelle in light of the fact that I’d been musing on story structure at the start of the week. I’ve always had a bit of a love-hate relationship with story structure: partly because I’m primarily a pantser (meaning I most often just sit down and write without doing any planning in writing) and partly because it took so long for me to understand what story structure actually is. I’ve since done a lot of study on the subject (aka, read a lot of books by Steven Brust and Patricia Wrede, and paid special attention to any other book I read where the structure leapt out at me), and it has been borne in on me over the years that the structure of my own books requires more work. Interestingly enough, I received a crash course in structure this week and last, over at Janet Reid’s blog. Janet periodically runs flash fiction contests on her blog, which I love to enter as a form of practise even though I’m seriously outclassed by most of the writers there. I was going over the finalists’ entries a week or so ago, and though quite a few of them aren’t my style of preference for reading, it struck me how very much they could say in very few words (100 words max). This turned my interest from looking for flash fic I liked, to flash fic that really worked, without regard to preferred style.

And that, of course, brought me to structure- for it was the structure of each of the pieces that gave each so much depth. The closest thing I can compare it to is looking in a telescope. There are so few words used, but the effect is wide-ranging and immensely vast. It feels as though there must be so much more than 100 words there. I learn best via reading (and perhaps osmosis of words) and let me tell you, reading those flash fic pieces over the last two weeks has been the schooling of my life. I so much appreciate all those talented writers who enter the contests.

Now we come to the crux of the matter. You want to know if I succeeded in writing a villanelle (shush, child, shush: of course you do). I did write my own villanelle, and it turns out that the only thing I feel really poetical about is my morning cup of tea. (My magnum opus is Ode To A Cockroach (RIP), so that should give you some idea of my poetic range). Therefore, enjoy this villanelle about my first morning cup of tea, and be thankful that there are no insects involved. It has no real rhythm, meter, or in fact merit, but it was fun to write.

The First Cup Of Tea

Cup meeting saucer, bergamot in flight
Amber swirls from the tealeaves and sinks fast
A curl of steam variegated through light

Silence that rings with a chink! clear and bright
Teaspoon abandoned, steam rising ‘gainst glass
Cup meeting saucer, bergamot in flight

Dreams linger gently, away out of sight
Fingers curled ‘round the cup, warm to the last
A curl of steam variegated through light

Plate piled with shortbreads: a secret delight
Beside glazed honey jumbles- saved for last
Cup meeting saucer, bergamot in flight

Eyes flutter shut, open wider and bright
Smile as I savour this morning’s repast
A curl of steam variegated through light

Dappled light playing on walls painted white
First warmth of sunshine through icy-cold glass
Cup meeting saucer, bergamot in flight
A curl of steam variegated through light

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