writing woes or whatever
Jun. 4th, 2019 03:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7I have been plugging away at this thing that started off as a Goblin Emperor AU, which I've tentatively dubbed the Solarpunk Cyborgs thing. It's set elsewhere in the same world as the Solarpunk Mammoths novel; I figure a world that big could have several societies, and it'd be fun to culture-clash the egalitarian-agrarian peoples in the Mammoths novel with the oligarchic/techie people in this new idea, at some point.
Insofar as POVs, which I was debating earlier, what's happening is that I'm just writing it as it comes, so I've got three POVs so far. But I'm considering going back and rewriting it after the first draft, tightening it up to either one or two POVs; I don't think the extra POVs will wind up necessary, but I have to put them in presently just to make sure the story's told. But like, I can already see where i can work in the information I introduced the other POV to include under one of the other ones. So we'll have to see; I've only got a fraction of the plot worked out.
Still, it's coming along, so that's nice.
“Well,” Diar said, “it’s obvious the High Minister would prefer you hadn’t actually answered his summons, but I think the Heir would actually like to see you.”
Ena shook his head, grimly amused. “I think you’re wrong,” he said. “I don’t think there’s anyone in this palace who actually wants to see me. But I’m willing to sit in this kitchen for a couple of days, this is the most comfortable I’ve been in a very long time.”
“It is lovely and warm in here,” Diar said.
And no one is looking at me, Ena thought, but did not add. “Help me eat some of this,” he said, nudging the plate over. “It all looks lovely and I just can’t get it down.” The bread in particular was beautiful, nice thick slices of a strong pale crusty bread with big holes in it, and generously spread with actual butter and honey besides, but Ena had tried one bite and discovered that it was too strong, chewy on the inside and crunchy on the outside, and his bruised jaw couldn’t get through it and his loose tooth wouldn’t be able to chew it anyway. He’d collected all the loose honey from the plate with his finger and sucked on it, though, because that was the kind of treat he’d had so seldom in his life as to be able to singly count every occasion.
Diar gave him a keen look. “Are you queasy, or is it that you can’t chew it?”
Ena sighed, thwarted by Diar’s observation skills. “Well,” he said, trying to think of something graceful and breezy to say, but he was very tired and very frightened and just couldn’t come up with anything.
“We could ask for soup,” Diar said, mildly indignant.
Ena very badly did not want to ask anyone for anything, did not want to attract any notice of any kind, and if he had for a moment thought it might work he’d already have climbed under the table to vanish. (That sort of thing had sometimes worked, back at the lodge, though not once he’d reached his full size. Everything had gotten so much worse when he’d hit that last growth spurt and shot up into the size range of an adult.)
“This is fine,” he said, and put the compress back onto his face because it meant he could turn away and maybe not show his fear quite so nakedly. The chamberlain was quite obviously aware that he was here (he had seen the man peek in once; Adila recognized him, as he’d been a household steward when Ena’s mother had lived here) and was equally obviously in absolutely no hurry to see to him, and possibly had instructions to let him sit as long as possible. And if that meant Ena sat in the corner of the kitchen being brought hot drinks and good food, and paid no heed otherwise, that was probably the last peace he was ever going to know and he was quite willing to cling to it as long as it lasted.
He certainly wasn’t going to ruin it by asking for things.
Insofar as POVs, which I was debating earlier, what's happening is that I'm just writing it as it comes, so I've got three POVs so far. But I'm considering going back and rewriting it after the first draft, tightening it up to either one or two POVs; I don't think the extra POVs will wind up necessary, but I have to put them in presently just to make sure the story's told. But like, I can already see where i can work in the information I introduced the other POV to include under one of the other ones. So we'll have to see; I've only got a fraction of the plot worked out.
Still, it's coming along, so that's nice.
“Well,” Diar said, “it’s obvious the High Minister would prefer you hadn’t actually answered his summons, but I think the Heir would actually like to see you.”
Ena shook his head, grimly amused. “I think you’re wrong,” he said. “I don’t think there’s anyone in this palace who actually wants to see me. But I’m willing to sit in this kitchen for a couple of days, this is the most comfortable I’ve been in a very long time.”
“It is lovely and warm in here,” Diar said.
And no one is looking at me, Ena thought, but did not add. “Help me eat some of this,” he said, nudging the plate over. “It all looks lovely and I just can’t get it down.” The bread in particular was beautiful, nice thick slices of a strong pale crusty bread with big holes in it, and generously spread with actual butter and honey besides, but Ena had tried one bite and discovered that it was too strong, chewy on the inside and crunchy on the outside, and his bruised jaw couldn’t get through it and his loose tooth wouldn’t be able to chew it anyway. He’d collected all the loose honey from the plate with his finger and sucked on it, though, because that was the kind of treat he’d had so seldom in his life as to be able to singly count every occasion.
Diar gave him a keen look. “Are you queasy, or is it that you can’t chew it?”
Ena sighed, thwarted by Diar’s observation skills. “Well,” he said, trying to think of something graceful and breezy to say, but he was very tired and very frightened and just couldn’t come up with anything.
“We could ask for soup,” Diar said, mildly indignant.
Ena very badly did not want to ask anyone for anything, did not want to attract any notice of any kind, and if he had for a moment thought it might work he’d already have climbed under the table to vanish. (That sort of thing had sometimes worked, back at the lodge, though not once he’d reached his full size. Everything had gotten so much worse when he’d hit that last growth spurt and shot up into the size range of an adult.)
“This is fine,” he said, and put the compress back onto his face because it meant he could turn away and maybe not show his fear quite so nakedly. The chamberlain was quite obviously aware that he was here (he had seen the man peek in once; Adila recognized him, as he’d been a household steward when Ena’s mother had lived here) and was equally obviously in absolutely no hurry to see to him, and possibly had instructions to let him sit as long as possible. And if that meant Ena sat in the corner of the kitchen being brought hot drinks and good food, and paid no heed otherwise, that was probably the last peace he was ever going to know and he was quite willing to cling to it as long as it lasted.
He certainly wasn’t going to ruin it by asking for things.
no subject
Date: 2019-06-05 04:26 am (UTC)