Confession Time About a Character!

A while back, I blogged about what I call ‘the Writer Phenomenon’, including where writers subconsciously use ideas of their world around them to shape their stories – it’s that idea that a story is never new.

I have no objection to this. If I found that a reader of my stories was inspired by a character of mine to (consciously or not) replicate them into a story of their own, I would beam.

PDA00160-JWILSON-loveHowever, my Writer Phenomenon has come to bite me. I picked up my favourite Jacqueline Wilson book yesterday (read so often it has a crease in the spine), to read through just because I could: Love Lessons. It’s quick and quirky, just as most Wilson books are, with a homeschoolled protagonist not fitting into her first school, but finding friendship in unusual places. And, whilst it’s a tad unrealistic (one page she’s wondering what it’s like to “fall so headily, instantly in love”; two or three chapters later she is able to describe the love interest in romantic, pictorial detail), it, on the other hand, makes perfect sense of that sudden, unrelenting love that takes siege of one.

So far so good. Until I was lying in bed trying to get to sleep and thinking about the characters. That’s when it hit me. I had lifted one of Triangle’s love interests almost straight from the pages. I must have been reading Love Lessons at one point when I began thinking about Triangle. Indeed, I know I was inspired to give Keith a goatee because the man in Wilson’s book did.

I guess it was just logical that he had dark, curly hair, too. And brown eyes “the colour of field-mud”, according to my protagonist.

But, as I thought about it last night, I realised something that I hadn’t bargained for. Keith. That is, the name. At first, it sounds strange that I didn’t recognise that my protagonist shared his name, too, but Wilson’s character uses the nickname Rax, from his surname ‘Raxberry’, and this is what the protagonist calls him for most of the book.

This is my confession: I may well have stolen her character and inserted him into my novel.

subconscious

Of course, it’s not that simple. My Keith is, effectively, the bad guy, not sweet like young Rax – he has a sharp temper and does not forgive easily without dwelling on things he cannot change. In one section of the first draft, he becomes obsessive…

I don’t think my Keith would have found Wilson’s Keith very good company. He would remind him of his rival too much. They don’t share the same interests or fashion sense; they are heaps different in motive and personality. They just happen to share a first name and a dark goatee.

Still, my subconscious was a little cruel in being so exact, and it leaves me with the dilemma of whether to alter a character I have had formed in my conscious mind for over three years. Of course they are not the same person – and I continue to protest that – but the similarities are currently causing me annoyance. Hmm, I’ll keep thinking on the matter.

Sometimes I’m just too good.

Until next time. Alex.

Photo of the Week: Towers

Towers

I live in a town that used to be a hub of coal power station life. Nearby my house, we have two man-made hills and lakes, an attraction, even if originally false. However, I have grown to have a spot at the top one of those hills – from there I surround myself with views. And from there, I used to be able to see the towers steaming.

That was, until earlier this year, when they shut the coal part of the plant down. It was getting old, and we are moving on. Nobody wants old-fashioned electricity anymore, not when it’s said to be harming the environment.

I think this was taken on Thursday, walking back from my club as the sun set. I was in the right place at the right time to get the colours and angles of this shot of the sun through the extinct cooling towers. I like to think that the mood is rightly portrayed – of loss and sad change.

Photo of the Week: Cat

Hi! Today’s Photo of the Week is of the lovely kitten that comes into my house and eats my food, xD!

Bobby

 

Also, is it just me, or is there something strange going on with my theme? I was going to change it anyway, but I shan’t do so until I’m on a firmer computer and internet provider – namely, next week, when I’m back at school computers.

It’s Done!

*dances crazily*

Last night I totally finished the first draft of Triangle, my chick lit novel, at 105 thousand words*! That’s exciting and scary. Scary mostly because I can already sense the massive, 15-year-old-writer rewrites I’m going to have to do. Even me – this age me – has written some rubbish stuff. Of course I have! The pacing in the last ten chapters (written within two weeks) is bizarre and terribly terrible.

But it’s exciting nevertheless. Especially since I set myself a deadline of 13th May (my 18th birthday) and finished with beyond a month to that.

My baby has grown up! It’s still as cheesy as it was, with the same tasteless jokes and references that even my co-writer didn’t get when she was writing with me.

Well, some things won’t change. But at least I can say I’m happy with the first draft.

Marking on the fictional places n the story

Marking on the fictional places in the story

Key:
red star= North Redshire
yellow star= Lansdale
blue star= Swinford
green star= Oxcote*
(*Yeah, I realise it lies in the same place as the actual Oxford, but I’ll keep the fictional name for now)

 

 

Will Lucas and Andrea end up together?

Will Lucas and Andrea end up together?

 

Landrea forever! Peace out. Alex :)

 

Related Triangle posts:

Lansdale Landscape: Geography in Novels

Extract: Part Three, One: Patient Woman

100th Post Party

 

*If you’re following numbers, that makes Triangle my sixth completed manuscript (and my biggest), though two err on the side of novella until I will get around to editing them.

Ten Things I Love About Professor Layton

This post was well overdue. I don’t share my love of the Professor Layton DS games as much as I should on this blog. And, now, presenting…

Hershel Layton!

Yay, for fan-art! The best of my drawing skills :P

Yay, for fan-art! The best of my drawing skills :P

10. Enigmatic. One word. Should be my word of the week. Also: awesome. It’s Layton’s clothes to which I’m actually referring. Whilst the man himself has a lot of secrets, it’s his attire that is most enigmatic. He somehow manages to pull of the top hat (I love it!) and jumper/jacket combination. There used to be a teacher at my school who dressed with collar up-turned like so.

9. Action. Professor Layton may drink tea and stay up all night researching archaeology, but that doesn’t mean he is physically lazy. A competent fencer, Layton shows his skills off at the end of game when it comes to fighting the antagonist. And, of course, Layton always wins!

8. Sensible. Some geniuses can be wacky and unpredictable (*cough* Don Paolo *cough*) – it comes with the impractical quantity of the intelligence. Hershel Layton is not so. He manages to keep a calm demeanour a good proportion of the time, a cheerful temperament whilst concocting answers in his powerful mind.

7. Kindness. Not simply because he’s a gentleman, but because he also has cares for the people he meets on his adventures, whether they are grandly affected by the evil or only slightly.

6. Mysteries. It’s more than just a puzzle game, and I love how a story of actual mysteries is weaved through the games, both for us to solve and for Layton himself to.

5. Music. This is more about the game itself than the character, but I love the music composed for Layton, especially his leitmotif, something which captures my interest and imagination every time I hear it. There’s a story in each well-selected piece.

4. Voice. Frankly, he has a dreamy voice. This is probably less to do with the voice-actor (Christopher Robin Miller) and more to do with the combination of image, mannerisms and voice.

3. Romantic. He may be tough at times, but Hershel once had a woman with which he was besotted. I am a sucker for reading/watching fictional characters fall in love and I really enjoyed the dynamics between Claire and Hershel in his flashbacks in The Lost/Unwound Future.  I may be the only person in the world to romantically ‘ship’ Flora-Layton (ie. Florton) (and I got a much older sense of her from the first game, like, my age) but Claire changed my mental pairing. Claire_(Professor_Layton)_full_623946

2. Gentleman. Who wouldn’t love someone who gives free advice on how to be a gentleman/lady?

1. Intelligent. Without intelligence, there would probably not be a reason/solution for each game, but that’s to why I praise him. Instead, it’s because of his clear, methodical attitude to each mystery. Although, in the end, it’s the user who completes each puzzle, the story would not exist without Layton’s inimitable knowledge of the way the world works.

 

Oh, and Happy Easter for tomorrow. My scheduled post isn’t about Easter, but it is about brains…and they’re kinda shaped like eggs… xD

Alex away! “Success!”

Costello World-Building

I was doing a little bit of background writing to cement the literary value of each Costello brother in my mind, and I thought I’d share the introductory paragraph of world-building.

~

WalesPeacock_AlexBIt’s clear that if one is born with Costello genes, one is destined for more than civilian normality.

But what does this mean?

In the word of The Continent, the Costello family are untitled barony, with a history of war; that is, their alumni and ancestry have aided The Continent for many centuries against the greatest enemies of the Second Continent, even working so far as to have their own Costello Platoon, in which serves every brother and the best fighters from the Big College.

It is this, hence, that they attract great media attention – especially every Costello son born, on whose head a high courting price is laid at birth; to share in the Costello bloodline is a great honour for any maiden.

However, each generation’s Matriarch and Patriarch are aware of this. It is a gruelling regime one must go through to qualify for the marriage selection from which each male chooses when he is ready to be wed. In the current, twenty-first century, the two preliminary criteria are class and beauty. Any woman who applies but falls short to the eye of Costello parents in either category does not make it into selection. Thus, to be Mrs. Costello is one of the highly-prized statuses of our time. Few other families of status apply such heavy rule to courtship and copulation.

It is, in final, the son’s choice, but this has never stopped Costello selection being so rigorous. It follows that there are going to be rouge sons who find themselves out of favour with the large presses and Society Pages, be this due to their choice of wife or due to their acts in society. One must keep, of course, a quiet eye in careful situations, lest the Costello name be dragged down.

As the stress of the Second Continent’s new technology augments on theWalesCastle_AlexB brothers of tradition, and the class platonic plates shift above rumours of a social revolution, it is no surprise that the twenty-first century has torn rifts between the new and the old generations of Costellos.

Forgiveness is a Wonderful Thing

Yesterday, I happened upon someone whom I hadn’t seen in months. There was no prearranged meeting, he just happened to turn up at an event I was doing. But, at the distance – our distance, in fact, that way we had so conjured – I was anticipating the moments when we would speak again with both delight and fear.

I had done him a great wrong once.

As much as I wanted to share my updates with him, I had no idea that he would even want to look at me. After all, I might well have not done so, had our positions been reversed.

So, I moved closer with my breath catching in my throat.

He turned those unreadable, turquoise eyes upon me. A thousand universes flittered through my mind. I would have this one chance to show him that I was so sorry (for words would do no good).

He grinned. We’ve known each other for six years and it felt as if the ice had broken again.

Do You Remember?

Forgiveness would be silvery, were it a colour. This photograph is on old one of mine of a painting I did. (I don’t have the colour photograph to hand)

Although it, in retrospect, was shorter than I ever would have liked, we talked for a full conversation. After that, I felt lighter than I had in ages.

All my darkness had been blanched away by the light. It may be an odd metaphor, but, like being born again, I had emerged from the water, cold, but refreshed, and utterly good. After three months of doubt and furor, my hand has finally penetrated the invisible glass casing surrounding me from the better world.

Moreover, I had seen it in my disturbing prescience.

Yet, the fact I had guessed it was going to come no more dampened the feelings of relief; forgiveness is a wonderful thing – both for the forgiver and the forgiven – in that one mistake is struck through with a red pen of sorts, wiped from the mind, hearts and voices of those involved, and replaced with something new and clean: a different view.

This is what I love about being a Christian! To think that Jesus would take all the agony of our sins and make forgiveness a possibility is an incredible thought.

The Best Thing About Winter…

IMAG6521

I guess I could call this a ‘things I love’ post, due to the fact that I am one of the group of people who feel like a child when they see snow every year.

Granted, when discussing yesterday with my peers the usefulness/uselessness of the possible school closure, I was not bothered at either idea: closed on not, my Friday would not change much. But that all changes when presented with a field of fresh, blank snow. It’s definitely magical!

As it turns out, the half day ruled and gave me a brilliant amount of time to go out into the snow and experiment – with photography.

IMAG6520

As well as using the views from the Sixth Form windows (the two above) as inspiration, we’ve two hills in our town, from which I can get a full view of the colour combinations of rooftops. Plants, spaces, and surroundings catch my eye and it’s worth getting cold and damp for!

I’ve recently got an eye for the structures of trees – bare trees with arms of branches. In the snow, they do obtain a magical quality.

IMAG6541

I love winter because of its snow (I do prefer summer, though). And from snow comes stories, multitudes of ideas to create the new and reform the old, with the refreshing change of pace to the land and the amusement it brings to most. Yay snow!

IMAG6569

A good two inches of ice on the lakes

IMAG6553

Pawprints show that the kitten tried to avoid the snow by hiding in the recycling boxes

IMAG6523

Light and Falling Love

Some new poetry has been coming to me recently:

 

~

Snuff out the effervescing candle,

Not for our squalid sake and secrecy,

But for the darkness to hide a stolen

Kiss, a secret coax of mankind.

Beware, though, when you take away

That obvious mystery of our hearts;

It must be remembered that I thrive

On able lights, wherever they are gleaming;

My functionality is broken

When the sides of my conscience snap,

So used to analytical energies,

And overexposed to darkness unrefined.

I am asking of a deed too difficult:

Do not click off the light-box,

Sunlight’s beams still should rise,

Taken and stolen now and once further.

Such pressed illumination

Begins to scar my retina;

And a headache draws in every

Single fallen sight.

My frustration is my blood raw,

Lapping at the second electric union

That evolves from our singular

Relationship of ice and fire,

Glass to cut through the waxen

Shades of my fated face. Again:

All happiness is bred to burn,

When two knowing beams collide, touch

In the darkness where I had once dwelled,

The selfish certainty I knew

Was not love. Now the air

Is being lit with more potential;

And is lifted up – but it will fall

If you dare take away your source.

Yet, eventually, we know

Our cause will double back into

Its boiling wax, now cold enough;

We will burn ourselves out, eventually.

~