Limbering Up For A Rewrite...

I did my gardening bright and early this morning.  I had my haircut (my head feels lighter.  Wow!).  And I've been writing.

I'm in that peculiar state of limbo between drafts right now.  I'm trying to plod on to the end of the current draft, but I keep getting distracted, and I'm growing increasingly impatient with hanging around waiting for the moment when I get back into (what I hope will be) the final rewrite.

This is proving to be one of the most difficult things I've ever written.  I've found my medieval novels cumbersome, but because they're written in a linear fashion (even with the addition of a sprinkling of subplots, the story begins, and progresses to the end) all it requires to thrash everything out is a lot of hard work and a few rewrites.

My current WIP is a whole different kettle of fish.  Bellakara once remarked to me that I should really write a novel about archaeology, but I could never find anything that truly inspired me.  I'd had the germ of the idea for this one rolling around in my brain for years, but it was one of these disjointed seeds that couldn't find the right ground to get established. 

It started with an image.  There's a knock on the door and when you open it, there's a hoplite standing there.  He knows you, and he's come an awful long way to find you.  You know he shouldn't be there, he knows he shouldn't be there, but there's nothing either of you can do about it...

I thought at first I'd try and write some kind of time-slip romance thing.  It hasn't worked out that way, but there is a romantic element to it.  There's two strands to the story which run as follows: Plot #1: Girl goes back in past, meets boy, they fall in love, but Boy is a good dutiful Spartan who is loyal to his city and his boyfriend, and girl is told she's going back to where she came from, end of story.  Plot #2: Several years later, Boy is taken through to future against his will.  He can't go home, because if he did he'd be branded a coward (he was supposed to have died in battle) and besides, this whole thing has been foreseen by the gods and he's been told there's be no way back for him.  He must find Girl in order to survive and rebuild his life in the future.

I liked the premise of this story  because I wanted to explore the possibility that someone from the past wouldn't necessarily be unable to adapt to life in the present.  There tends to be an assumption that someone from an ancient culture will be trapped in the ideology of the past.  In that respect, taking the perspective of a Spartan was a particular challenge, so I figured that my lad would have to be fairly young when he made the transition, if he was to have any chance of integrating.  On the other hand, they're trained to be survivors from an early age.  If making a new life for themselves is the only option, they'll grit their teeth and get on with it.

It's turning into one of the most complicated things I've ever worked on, no doubt because there's the two seperate strands which have to be strung together somehow, and I can't have the one without the other.  Yes, it has to be speculative fiction (fantasy, I suppose, since there's a supernatural element which has caused all these problems to unfold in the first place), but it's proving quite tough because I'm finding it difficult to categorise.  This isn't really a problem at the moment, but eventually I'm going to have to pin the essence of the work down more precisely so I can start trying to sell it. 

For the time being, I can just sit back and enjoy myself.  I'd been worried that it would be difficult to make readers sympathetic to a Spartan to begin with, because let's face it, theirs is not the most pleasant of cultures, but from the feedback I've had to date, this doesn't seem to be a problem. 

I had Lysander younger than Lucy at first, working on the assumption that the romance would blossom in the modern strand of the tale.  But for the next rewrite, I've made them roughly the same age and I know already that the spark's going to be kindled at an earlier stage. 

I've improved my knowledge of Ancient Greek culture and mythology no end so i'm looking forward to putting this to good use in the revised version.  So when two Spartan lads on the Krypteia run into two lone girls wearing funny clothes in the middle of nowhere, they automatically assume that the girls in question are nymphs out to abduct them. 

I haven't a clue what I'll end up doing with this, but it's proving to be quite an entertaining project.  And it's given me an excuse to read up on Ancient Greece and Sparta, which has been illuminating enough in its own right.  The fundamental premise is of course impossible, but I'm still determined to get my historical facts right.  I've found the right setting for the events which unfold, and even where I've played fast and loose with the facts, I've managed to find some justification for this.

When I visit Crete, I shall quietly ruminate on the Spartan strand of my story. I might even take a lined notebook and some pens so I can write in the old, traditional way.  In the initial drafts, I wrote this section as Lucy's journal, but I've since rewritten it in omniscient.  It works better, I think.  Unfortunately, it's becoming a self-contained work in its own right, but even though I can't think where to fit it in around the larger body of the text, I don't think it can possibly stand alone.  It's like a kid's story for grown-ups - maybe that's what I wanted to write all along.

Oh, and if the boys 'graduate' from the Agoge at 12, my lads will at least have a much better dress sense.  Maybe they'll have those natty red cloaks that are the trademark of a Spartan.  Mmm.  That'd be nice...

Limbering Up For A Rewrite...

I did my gardening bright and early this morning.  I had my haircut (my head feels lighter.  Wow!).  And I've been writing.

I'm in that peculiar state of limbo between drafts right now.  I'm trying to plod on to the end of the current draft, but I keep getting distracted, and I'm growing increasingly impatient with hanging around waiting for the moment when I get back into (what I hope will be) the final rewrite.

This is proving to be one of the most difficult things I've ever written.  I've found my medieval novels cumbersome, but because they're written in a linear fashion (even with the addition of a sprinkling of subplots, the story begins, and progresses to the end) all it requires to thrash everything out is a lot of hard work and a few rewrites.

My current WIP is a whole different kettle of fish.  Bellakara once remarked to me that I should really write a novel about archaeology, but I could never find anything that truly inspired me.  I'd had the germ of the idea for this one rolling around in my brain for years, but it was one of these disjointed seeds that couldn't find the right ground to get established. 

It started with an image.  There's a knock on the door and when you open it, there's a hoplite standing there.  He knows you, and he's come an awful long way to find you.  You know he shouldn't be there, he knows he shouldn't be there, but there's nothing either of you can do about it...

I thought at first I'd try and write some kind of time-slip romance thing.  It hasn't worked out that way, but there is a romantic element to it.  There's two strands to the story which run as follows: Plot #1: Girl goes back in past, meets boy, they fall in love, but Boy is a good dutiful Spartan who is loyal to his city and his boyfriend, and girl is told she's going back to where she came from, end of story.  Plot #2: Several years later, Boy is taken through to future against his will.  He can't go home, because if he did he'd be branded a coward (he was supposed to have died in battle) and besides, this whole thing has been foreseen by the gods and he's been told there's be no way back for him.  He must find Girl in order to survive and rebuild his life in the future.

I liked the premise of this story  because I wanted to explore the possibility that someone from the past wouldn't necessarily be unable to adapt to life in the present.  There tends to be an assumption that someone from an ancient culture will be trapped in the ideology of the past.  In that respect, taking the perspective of a Spartan was a particular challenge, so I figured that my lad would have to be fairly young when he made the transition, if he was to have any chance of integrating.  On the other hand, they're trained to be survivors from an early age.  If making a new life for themselves is the only option, they'll grit their teeth and get on with it.

It's turning into one of the most complicated things I've ever worked on, no doubt because there's the two seperate strands which have to be strung together somehow, and I can't have the one without the other.  Yes, it has to be speculative fiction (fantasy, I suppose, since there's a supernatural element which has caused all these problems to unfold in the first place), but it's proving quite tough because I'm finding it difficult to categorise.  This isn't really a problem at the moment, but eventually I'm going to have to pin the essence of the work down more precisely so I can start trying to sell it. 

For the time being, I can just sit back and enjoy myself.  I'd been worried that it would be difficult to make readers sympathetic to a Spartan to begin with, because let's face it, theirs is not the most pleasant of cultures, but from the feedback I've had to date, this doesn't seem to be a problem. 

I had Lysander younger than Lucy at first, working on the assumption that the romance would blossom in the modern strand of the tale.  But for the next rewrite, I've made them roughly the same age and I know already that the spark's going to be kindled at an earlier stage. 

I've improved my knowledge of Ancient Greek culture and mythology no end so i'm looking forward to putting this to good use in the revised version.  So when two Spartan lads on the Krypteia run into two lone girls wearing funny clothes in the middle of nowhere, they automatically assume that the girls in question are nymphs out to abduct them. 

I haven't a clue what I'll end up doing with this, but it's proving to be quite an entertaining project.  And it's given me an excuse to read up on Ancient Greece and Sparta, which has been illuminating enough in its own right.  The fundamental premise is of course impossible, but I'm still determined to get my historical facts right.  I've found the right setting for the events which unfold, and even where I've played fast and loose with the facts, I've managed to find some justification for this.

When I visit Crete, I shall quietly ruminate on the Spartan strand of my story. I might even take a lined notebook and some pens so I can write in the old, traditional way.  In the initial drafts, I wrote this section as Lucy's journal, but I've since rewritten it in omniscient.  It works better, I think.  Unfortunately, it's becoming a self-contained work in its own right, but even though I can't think where to fit it in around the larger body of the text, I don't think it can possibly stand alone.  It's like a kid's story for grown-ups - maybe that's what I wanted to write all along.

Oh, and if the boys 'graduate' from the Agoge at 12, my lads will at least have a much better dress sense.  Maybe they'll have those natty red cloaks that are the trademark of a Spartan.  Mmm.  That'd be nice...

Caerlaverock Castle - The End of The Road

Here's another post dedicated to the wonders of Caerlaverock Castle.  I'm concentrating again upon the 17th century 'Nithsdale Lodging', and as promised I'm going to post photographs of some of the carvings.

I mentioned yesterday that this part of the castle was built in 1634.  Shown below is the datestone that supports this:-

 

Its owner and builder, the Earl of Nithsdale, was loyal to Charles I, and Caerlaverock Castle suffered as a result.  In 1640, the castle was besieged by an army of Covenanters.  After thirteen weeks, its garrison surrendered.  The castle was then partially dismantled by the victorious army, led by the Earl of Home. 

 

At the time of its surrender, an inventory was taken of its furnishings:-

'There were five beds, two of silk and three of cloth (this describes the five bed curtains).  Each bed had silk fringes and a silk counterpane tester, all decorated with braid and silk lace.  There were accompanying stools and chairs to match, and featherbeds, blankets, bolsters and pillows to serve the timber beds.  There were ten lesser beds, twenty servants' beds and forty carpets.  The furniture of a drawing room consisted of a couch-bed and great chair, six other chairs and six stools.  There was a library of books and trunks full of sheets, pillowacses, table cloths, napkins and towels.  These are the furnishings of a comfortable country house, not a medieval fortress.' (Grove, 1994, Caerlaverock Castle (HMSO)).

 

The civilised Classical influences are everywhere.  Okay, this hasn't got the technical sophistication of contemporary Italy or France, but at least these provincial noblemen are trying to portray themselves as well-educated patrons of the arts.  Here's a close-up of the mouldings around the doors and windows:-

 

The motif shown above is heraldic, but in other panels, the inspiration appears to be Classical.  Here's a hippocampus drawing a chariot, presumably carrying Poseidon:-

 

The carvings are extremely weathered, so it's impossible to tell if this is Prometheus getting his liver pecked out by an eagle, or Leda getting seduced by Zeus in the form of a swan.  Either way, it's rather strange...

 

And lastly, the Saint Andrews Cross takes pride of place over a doorway:-

 

I'm sure someone, somewhere will have written an in-depth treatise analysing the meaning of these images and tying them in to the life and times of the then-Earl of Nithsdale, but in the meantime, you'll just have to appreciate them for what they are.

Imagine what they'd have been like as brightly painted images set against a pale cream or pink coat of lime harling...
 

Caerlaverock Castle - The End of The Road

Here's another post dedicated to the wonders of Caerlaverock Castle.  I'm concentrating again upon the 17th century 'Nithsdale Lodging', and as promised I'm going to post photographs of some of the carvings.

I mentioned yesterday that this part of the castle was built in 1634.  Shown below is the datestone that supports this:-

 

Its owner and builder, the Earl of Nithsdale, was loyal to Charles I, and Caerlaverock Castle suffered as a result.  In 1640, the castle was besieged by an army of Covenanters.  After thirteen weeks, its garrison surrendered.  The castle was then partially dismantled by the victorious army, led by the Earl of Home. 

 

At the time of its surrender, an inventory was taken of its furnishings:-

'There were five beds, two of silk and three of cloth (this describes the five bed curtains).  Each bed had silk fringes and a silk counterpane tester, all decorated with braid and silk lace.  There were accompanying stools and chairs to match, and featherbeds, blankets, bolsters and pillows to serve the timber beds.  There were ten lesser beds, twenty servants' beds and forty carpets.  The furniture of a drawing room consisted of a couch-bed and great chair, six other chairs and six stools.  There was a library of books and trunks full of sheets, pillowacses, table cloths, napkins and towels.  These are the furnishings of a comfortable country house, not a medieval fortress.' (Grove, 1994, Caerlaverock Castle (HMSO)).

 

The civilised Classical influences are everywhere.  Okay, this hasn't got the technical sophistication of contemporary Italy or France, but at least these provincial noblemen are trying to portray themselves as well-educated patrons of the arts.  Here's a close-up of the mouldings around the doors and windows:-

 

The motif shown above is heraldic, but in other panels, the inspiration appears to be Classical.  Here's a hippocampus drawing a chariot, presumably carrying Poseidon:-

 

The carvings are extremely weathered, so it's impossible to tell if this is Prometheus getting his liver pecked out by an eagle, or Leda getting seduced by Zeus in the form of a swan.  Either way, it's rather strange...

 

And lastly, the Saint Andrews Cross takes pride of place over a doorway:-

 

I'm sure someone, somewhere will have written an in-depth treatise analysing the meaning of these images and tying them in to the life and times of the then-Earl of Nithsdale, but in the meantime, you'll just have to appreciate them for what they are.

Imagine what they'd have been like as brightly painted images set against a pale cream or pink coat of lime harling...