Know the Novel >> Part 3: It Is Written

Welcome back, y'all!
I've returned to my [hopefully] normal posting schedule & can't wait to share more of the progress I made during this past NaNo. I feel like an official Wrimo now, even though this was my third time joining in. I believe it's due to the fact I felt like I really gave my best & was genuinely diligent this go around (not that I wasn't the first two times, but that this time, I was able to truly prioritize & MAKE time to write---it also helped that we did not travel during Thanksgiving).

TODAY,
I am sharing the third & final part of the Know the Novel linkup! hosted by my friend Christine. <3

If you are a writer, I heartily recommend joining in! Even if you aren't partaking of the insanity that was NaNo this year, these questions are wonderful for your current WIP(s).

But be ye warned, this post is rather long. . .
Ye have been warned.
I'm sharing some juicy excerpts in question 9's answer! So if you wish, you can skim to those. ;D

The questions over the course of these three months (can you BELIEVE it's December???) have been marvelously helpful with my story. Each set served to get me thinking about the wheels & cogs of the story, not just the surface, like the characters, & the basic plot. They are also LOADS OF FUN & bring with them a love of the story I'm writing.

But, I ramble. ;D
Onward to the linkup!

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THE QUESTIONS

1. Firstly, how did writing this novel go all around?

Marvelously. Though I feel like I was barely scraping by, and that the first half of this story is extremely slow (which caused me to doubt myself & second-guess things & overall WORRY that it's not a story worth telling. . . BUT, I'm SO pleased I pushed through regardless those useless fears). Once I hit a certain point, it all began to flow much more easily. And it helped LOADS that I had a good bit of scenes already drafted, I could simply fit them right into the puzzle. It's SO EXCITING when your story & its scenes start clicking into place, am I right??

2. Did it turn out like you expected or completely different? And how do you feel about the outcome?

As it is still incomplete, I believe it's turning out much how I expected---though there's still several aspects I have absolutely NO IDEA what's gonna happen. For the most part, I was able to use my Outline, which was a tremendous help this go around. I believe I need structure when it comes to NaNo'ing. Thus far, I feel pretty good about it all. This is just the first draft! Perfection comes later. ;D

(source)

3. What aspect of the story did you love writing about the most? (Characters, plot, setting, prose, etc.)

Oh dear. Hmmmm. Probably the characters---most definitely! But I'd also have to add the setting as well. In this story, I'm really trying to be conscious of the five senses (not as serious during this first draft phase, of course, but it's in the back of my mind), and trying to add depth to the setting & descriptions. It's my desire that the story world itself be almost like a character---easily envisioned.

4. How about your least favorite part?

Probably the plot. . . I mentioned I had an Outline I followed during NaNo, but it's not complete. There's a good-sized portion that's missing during the climax/ending of this story, and I honestly have no idea what's gonna happen. But I suppose that's okay, right? It will make [HOPEFULLY] for a great story with some awesome plotty twistiness thrown in there. . .

5. What do you feel like needs the most work?

The beginning & middle. I was attempting to establish a relationship between Noya, her family, and the reader. I want my readers to know them & love them, and then, once things happen, well. . . there may be FEELS.

I would also add some characters definitely need more fleshing out---they basically just exist, no substance yet. . . And that certainly includes my villain. . . GRRRRR.

Laomer (source)

6. How do you feel about your characters now that your novel is done? Who's your favorite? Least favorite? Anyone surprise you? Give us the details!

I LOVES them. Noya is a sweetheart, her brothers (especially Brom) are ADORABLE, and there's some fun dynamics to this retelling, I believe & hope, that will set it apart from others. Laomer (my supposed Gaston character. . .) and Master Boon Black, to name a couple. :D

I'm not sure I could name a favorite. . . Noya reminds me so much of myself---we certainly share the same fears---but I believe her well of courage is waaaay more than I myself have. heheh

And my BEAST. I love the poor shattered soul. After nearly five hundred years have passed, he's given up hope in rescuing his people & bringing light back to his kingdom. His burdens are many, but the shame & guilt of his past weigh the heaviest. And so, he attempts to find redemption in protecting the Wood & its outlying lands from the rising evil at its heart.

(source)

7. What's your next plan of action with this novel?

FINISH THIS DRAFT!!!
Using the new goal challenges on the NaNoWriMo site, I've set a new goal of 30,000 words to help me in completing this draft. With Christmas nearly two weeks away, I've given myself till March 1st to have finally written the words, "The End" and reaching an added amount of 30k---an estimate as to how much more I'm guessing I maaaay have until this story is complete. This is being very generous in regards to time & not pressuring myself, but I don't want to stress myself out, so I believe it to be wholly reasonable. ^_^

8. If you could have your greatest dream realized for this novel, what would it be?

*dreamy sigh*

Most certainly, it would be to have this story published with a drop-dead-GORGEOUS cover design and it sitting on the shelves of my favorite bookstore.

. . .

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

What?

"EARTH TO SARAH!!"

Oh. Right, HEH

Anyways. . . That's the dream! And maaaaaaybe one day, at least one of those things might happen. Honestly, I'd be beyond happy with the drop-dead-GORGEOUS cover design. xD Still, it's the goal that this WIP will be the first published book by yours truly. *^ - ^*

9. Share some of your favorite snippets!

Because this is the last part of this linkup, I've taken the liberty of sharing some excerpts, rather than just snippets. I hope you enjoy!

Also, the photos here are from my Pinterest board (link below!), and are purely inspiration for the scenes---in regards to the actual castle in the second excerpt, my Beast's castle differs slightly, but this was the best similarity I could find to give you a visual. It's SO BEAUTIFUL. :]

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She looked exhausted. He was tempted to scoop her into his arms as he had done these two weeks past and carry her the rest of the way. She fit well in his arms, furry as they were. But somehow he knew she would most likely not appreciate such an action. An unconscious woman was one thing, and a sick one was another, but a conscious woman, and one as intelligent as she seemed, was an entirely different matter. How many women, with the exception of his own race, would be given to studying books and world history as she so obviously had?

He remembered the Blood War. A mere child at the time, but he would never forget.

She stumbled then, and he slowed his pace, angry at himself for losing focus.

He looked at her hand in the crook of his arm, dwarfed in comparison to his own beastly one, but he found he rather liked this. He liked being the gentleman. And he had enjoyed the time, albeit brief, simply sitting together on the garden walkway.

What was coming over him?

“What can I call you?”

The question stopped him. He looked down to find her watching him. Her hazel eyes sparkled slightly. Did she find him so amusing?

“I cannot call you 'master,' I've decided. You must have a name?”

A name?

He did once. But a name is a sacred thing. And he… so unworthy.

“You may call me Ulban, for that is what I am,” he muttered, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.

She looked puzzled. “What is its meaning, may I ask? I do not know the language.”

“Few do now.” His words brought all the more sorrow. For it was his doing. “It means 'monster,' in a tongue long dead.”

Her eyes widened. She shook her head as they continued down the corridor.

“No, if you will not share your true name, I will give you a new one. At least, until you do,” she added, her features pleasant. He watched her out of the corners of his eyes as she thought for a moment.

It was not until they reached her chamber doors that she looked at him directly, her emotive features painted in a decisive expression. “Emyr. For now, I shall call you Emyr, for in one of the Ancient Tongues it means 'king'.”

He had no words.

She would choose to look past his appearance? He, once a feared king, brought so low as to become a Beast—a monster?

And here was she, her arm in his as he escorted her down the halls of his castle to her rooms. How had this happened? How had she torn down his walls in mere weeks—the walls he had built for centuries? This mortal girl would never cease to surprise him.

Was there hope for his soul yet?

Something in his spirit, perhaps the inner Beast himself, stirred deep within and he was reminded once again just what he was.

No.

There was no hope. He was doomed to live a Beast.

And he would die a Beast.

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the Forgotten Kingdom (source)

Opening the doors to the adjoining balcony, she stepped outside to greet the chilly dawn. Though Spring was in full swing, it seemed the Cold Season still held tightly to this new one, as a brisk waft of air rose to twine its fingers in her hair. She had left it hanging down today, reminding her of Papa when he would see and comment approvingly.

“Just like your mama, my Beauty. I always loved it when she wore her hair down.”

His voice faded from her mind as her eyes were drawn to the open yard below. From her view here, she could see the path and marbled roadway leading up to the front doors of the castle to her left. On either side of the road, giant trees of sycamore and oak and others she did not recognize grew like sentinels leading to the castle's entrances. Never before had she seen sycamores of their size—nor any of these trees for that matter. The Wood was an ancient forest indeed. Marveling at the pure white trunks, mottled with the tan-coloured bark, she was interrupted by the sight of movement below in what must have once served as a courtyard.

It was the Beast.

He seemed restless and perhaps a little agitated, walking with no purpose, except to expend some energy. She followed the line of his sight whenever he looked up from his walking, but could see no reason as to why he behaved so.

Then, softly at first, she heard it.

A howl.

She heard his low growl answer even from her perch on the balcony. But he made no move to pursue or howl in warning himself.

He must have felt her eyes upon him then, for he looked up and met her own. Even from that distance some stories below, it felt as if he could see right through her. Embarrassed, she looked away and out to the surrounding Wood.

The castle and its vast grounds were not set in any sort of clearing, but seemingly built and crafted around the existing trees of the Wood, melding into the marble and glass architecture. If one did not know a kingdom existed here (and she could say it was a fact this generation held no knowledge of it), one might wander the Wood and walk right past it without realizing. On the other hand, one might find themselves face-to-face with the gates.

In her observation, Noya noticed one large tree, the mother of them all for sure, grew into the side of the castle. She wondered which rooms it had invaded—or rather, been built around.

The howl sounded for a second time, and heart quickening, she found herself seeking the Beast's formidable figure. He was still watching her.

Unsure what to do then, but certain there was no danger from whatever creature lurked in the Woods, Noya tentatively lifted a hand and waved to him. He seemed surprised. But oddly enough, he returned the gesture in his own way: a slight nod of his fearsome head.

She caught herself smiling as she re-entered her rooms to get dressed for the day.

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Noya was lost, yet again. Though not in the sense that she could not find her way. There were far too many questions, far too many mysteries, and far too many puzzles she simply could not solve herself. It was possible some answers lay within reach in the marvelous library. If anything, it was something which would make her imprisonment not be half as bad as she had originally imagined. Of course, everything since her arrival here had been so far from her own imaginings.

Her thoughts drifted back to the Beast—Emyr—and the sense of urgency that had practically radiated off of him. She could not hear what it was he heard, nor see of course, though a thought did enter her own mind: the Griffin, Baradil.

They must be keepers of the Wood. In some sense, at least. Was it the massive creature responsible for the raids on the farms around her new hometown? If so, she hoped the two, beast and beast, would take it (or them) down. For if the beasts were as large as was said due to the tracks left behind, they would not stop with mere chickens, nor any of the larger livestock.

She wondered if everything was alright back home…

On a whim, she set down the book she had been perusing, gathered up her skirts and set off in search of the high towers she had seen from the gardens. There were at least four, so surely if she kept progressing upwards she would find one eventually. Perhaps it would serve as a sort of lookout, like that of a ship at sea—the crow’s nest, right? Though how much would be visible to her through the thick Wood’s canopy of leaves might be a problem.

A few moments more, and several flights of smooth marble stairs later, she came abruptly to an unfamiliar corridor. Unlike the others she had explored, this one was dark, dusty, and—for lack of a better description: eerie.

Her logical, practical, fearful side seemed to wish to scream at her to turn around. It was a tower she sought, not a creepy hallway with an equally creepy door that just happened to be cracked slightly and emitting a low, ethereal light.

On the other hand, the more rare and hidden, adventurous and ambitious side of her, which rarely saw the light of day due to her calm and reserved personality, yearned to see what lay beyond.

Eyes wide, heartbeat rising, she padded softly to the door and slipped inside.

What her eyes beheld was a chamber that could belong to none other than the Beast himself. Where every other room in the vast castle was absolutely immaculate, this one was in poor shape. The furnishings, the walls, the bedroom, and every painting on the wall had been slashed and torn to shreds—the cause: some rather obvious claw marks.

Noya stepped in cautiously, knowledge that the Beast had left the grounds rolling over and over through her mind. Still, her conscience screamed at her to turn around. He could return at any moment. But she willed her feet not to obey. Perhaps there were clues, answers—whatever one wished to call them—that would speak more of the history of this place and why it was in this current…state.

Sconces secured into the walls offered minimum light, but it was adequate enough for her to see. She felt suddenly like a stray cat, entering a forbidden alleyway in some forgotten village, not knowing what or who lay in wait before her.

Maybe this was not such a good idea… But before she could listen to her head, something drew her attention.

It was a magnificent painting, or what had been a magnificent painting, framed in beautiful cherry wood and gilded in gold, and lying haphazardly upon some old, musty cushions.

The scene depicted a woman—a queen rather—seated before two other subjects, a stern-looking man, and an innocent-faced boy. All had the telling ears of the Elven race, with the handsomely chiseled cheekbones and silky hair, which fell well past their shoulders. While the man

and boy were both dark in their features, the woman was quite the opposite—pure golden hair, which was depicted as nearly white in appearance, and bright blue eyes flecked with gold.

She was beautiful.

And the artist had captured every bit of her beauty, as well as the personalities of her husband and son.

This could only be the queen of the castle.

Which meant, the lovely lady in skylight blue was the mother of the Beast—Emyr, or whatever his given name was. Noya wondered if she would ever know. She looked again at the boy's sweet face, with a crooked smile that reminded her of her brothers. She still had yet to find all of the puzzle pieces that made up the tale of how such an innocent little lad had become the fierce and rageful creature of this empty castle.

The thought saddened her and she moved on around the room coming to a stop before a lovely mirror of gold, approximately the size of one of Master Black’s larger tomes. It would have been completely without blemish were it not for the spider-like cracks upon its surface. She sighed that another such pretty little thing had been destroyed.

As she stared at her distorted image in its reflection hanging on the wall, she had the odd sensation that it changed. Not the mirror, but the image itself. Slowly, before her eyes her slighted reflection transformed into that of a clock and she would have sworn she could hear it ticking. From the clock, a vision of a rose tree grew along the side of a very familiar barn. But just as quickly as it came, it vanished, leaving only her cracked image.

Baffled, she lifted a hand to its surface just as a roar shook the room, causing her to collapse to her knees and instinctively protect her ears. She looked up and met the furious eyes of the Master, looking for all the world like he would tear her to pieces as he had this once-lovely room.

Heart pounding like a drum, and body quivering, she felt frozen to the floor.

“Get out.”

She needed no second command. Managing to stumble to her feet, she avoided the Beast who seemed to be using every ounce of control he had not to tear into the room with his bare claws. Once out in the corridor, she ran.

And didn't stop.

Away from the eerie Northern wing.

Down the smooth marble steps.

Out the great doors.

Into the gardens.

Past the towering gates.

And into the Wood.

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As carefully as possibly, he lifted the tiny teacup she had given him and sipped as quietly as he was able. Unfortunately, with his current state of snout, it sounded more like impolite slurping, but catching her smile, he did not shy away and decided he rather liked the way the tea slid smooth and warmly down his throat. Why had he not allowed Eleniel to serve this all these years?

There were many things he had missed out on. And all due to his pride and selfishness. Was he learning his lesson at last?

Many often spoke of the stubbornness of Dwarves, but he would lay gold that they could not compare to his own obstinance. He had an entire lifetime of proof.

In a sudden gust of wind and the deafening flap of wings, Baradil was finding purchase of the rails. On instinct, the Beast leaned over to shield the girl from the wind that the Griffin was inadvertently sending their way, tinkling the dishes and toppling glasses. But just as quickly as he had arrived, the wind ceased and Baradil hopped from the rails and was by his side, his behaviour most unusual. The Beast got the sense Baradil had closed off his mind to the girl, so only they could converse. It was then he saw in the body language of his bonder how the Griffin held his muscles tense, his feathered ears back, and his neck low. This did not bode well.

With the sudden realization that he was still holding her for no reason at all, he released her, catching the pleasing blush in her cheeks once again. She had risen to stand at Baradil’s arrival, and her eyes were now level with his own as he remained seated. He noted how her fingers still clung to the silk of his shirt, but her focus remained on the Griffin who had begun chirruping—the sound he knew to bear bad news.

“Good morning, Baradil,” Noya greeted, but her usual cheerful features were turned down in concern. She must sense how Baradil was keeping his thoughts from her.

The griff nudged her hand briefly, but turned his intense gaze back to him. He felt Baradil’s urging thoughts to retire to a private room in order to share his news. His bonder did not wish her to hear what he had to say. He nodded to Barad, and made to stand, but the girl’s grip stopped him. He had forgotten she still held on to his shirt.

“No, please. If something has happened to the village—or if this concerns the Wulverns, please, tell me.” The fear in her eyes was enough to freeze him. Was she trembling?

Baradil looked to him, and, against his better judgment, he nodded assent.

But instead of opening his mind to the both of them, Baradil only shared the images with the Beast, and he winced at the gruesome site—a deep growl of anger escaping before he could contain it. He hesitated, reluctant to relay Baradil’s memories with the girl. When he opened his eyes, her gaze was going to him and then Baradil before returning to meet his once again—anxiety evident in her fair features. His shirt remained clutched in her small fists, her knuckles white.

“Emyr?” she asked, as he hesitated once more. “Is my family—”

“They are fine,” he interrupted, placing a clawed hand carefully on her arm. “But it seems another young man has lost his life. There—was not enough left to identify him…” She gasped at this, her hands going to her mouth. He rushed to continue the news as Baradil came to her side, nudging her other arm so she would place it about his head. “His companion was severely injured, but will live.” A small amount of relief found its way to her face, but the sorrow that covered her features brought the anger threateningly close to the surface.

This was Marduk’s doing.

He rose, hands fisted at his sides, and strode to the balcony overlooking the Wood—his Wood.

Noya’s small voice reached his ears through the pounding of blood in his head. “Do you know who the injured man is?”

The flicker of memory returned, and he felt Baradil share it with the both of them. He put the images to words, his rasp more pronounced as it became harder to focus on the trees beyond, and the gardens below. “Baradil believes him to be Mr Laomer Cayne, son of a village councilman.”

A faint crash sounded behind him at this, and he whirled around to find Noya on her knees, her hands at her chest as if in pain, and her eyes wide in shock. She must have stumbled over the cushions and knocked the forgotten bowl of fruit to the marble tiles, where it finally stilled its hollow noise.

It took him a moment to register she had fallen through the slowly building haze, and Baradil was already by her side allowing her to lean into his fur and feather hide. He came to her, blinking back the redness in his vision, his movements seeming to lack whatever grace he thought he had left.

His voice struggled for purchase in his throat, but he managed to rasp, “Do you know this young man?”

When she met his eyes, he was surprised to see tears rolling down her cheeks. She nodded, adding with a sniffle, “A dear friend.”

He almost bristled at the word “dear.” But why? That flash of redness threatened to blind him, and he shook his head, barely catching Noya’s following words.

“I am relieved to hear he will survive,” she whispered, wiping her eyes and looking in the direction of the village he had taken her from.

That anger surged again, and he suppressed a growl.

What was wrong with him?

Something seemed to eat at him from the inside, and a great urging to release the pent-up roar rising within nearly made him double over—the effort of fighting for control almost too much.

“Emyr?”

It was as if the name was completely foreign to him. A blinding red filled his sight and the desire for blood captured his mind. He lashed out with his claws catching the unfortunate table and what happened to be on it unawares. The dishes flew to the floor and walls behind in a great clatter and his vision cleared briefly enough to see the girl on her back and elbows, Baradil growling in warning over her.

At him.

He heard another rasping growl and realized with astonishment that it was coming from his own mouth.

“Emyr!” Noya had scrambled to her knees once more, clutching the thick feathered mane of Baradil, a delicate hand outstretched in his direction. He shrank back. Had he hurt her? What had come over him?

“Emyr, please. It’s alright. T-the House is fine. None have breached the gates,” she said soothingly. Her words poured over him, drawing him back from that dark place of red and rage.

He felt a small hand touch him arm and looked down into the depths of the most beautiful hazel eyes he had ever seen. “Noya,” he croaked. Her name was his anchor. “I—”

“All is well, Emyr,” she said, her voice soft. And she hugged him.

He stood frozen for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her little frame, breathing in the fragrance of honeysuckle in her hair. Bringing his mind back to the now.

And his impending future.

He was running out of time.

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10. Did you glean any new writing and/or life lessons from writing this novel?

I always learn something. :] This time around, I learned if I prioritized & put in the effort, I could accomplish the goals I set---however lofty they seemed (and 50k is pretty lofty in this chapter of my life). Digging into NaNo this past November, I honestly wasn't sure if I could hit that 50k mark, and there were many times I felt like giving in and not pressing forward because of life. I'm SO happy I did not do that. I paced myself, I made time to write each day, and I stopped writing or didn't write at all a couple days when sleep & rest (or other responsibilities) needed to be the top priority. There's still things I could have done better, of course, and my household duties/chores were probably lacking a good deal throughout that month, but I have no regrets! I made it to the 50k, and I'm still going!

Diligence reaps progress.
But it's also extremely important to know there's a time to write & a time to rest. It won't do your story any good if you burn yourself out. And I feel like I had a great balance of both this past month.

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PINTEREST >>> Storyboard: Noya

NANOWRIMO >>> Project: Noya

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So. That was my 2019 month of NaNoWriMo, featuring my project, Noya. Did I overwhelm you with the snippets/excerpts??? How was your writing these past few weeks? Are you planning on Camp NaNo in April and/or July??

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Christmas is just around the corner, dearies! I hope it's a blessedly lovely one for you & yours.
I plan to keep up my normal posts this coming week, but will take a brief hiatus through the week of Christmas & on into the New Year.

Have a fantabulous weekend, dear beans!
<3

Comments

Christine SmithDecember 12, 2019 at 8:47 PM
*SCREECHES IN EXCITEMENT* I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS POST. AND IT WAS SUCH A TREAT!!!

I am just ecstatic NaNo went well for you and the story is coming along and YOU WONNNN. SO MANY EXCITING THIIINGS.

AND OH MY GRACIOUS GOODNESS ALIVE, SARAH. THE SNIPPETS. THE SNIPPETSSSSS. I've been sitting here like "O____O" devouring them whole. Hoooowwwwww do you write so beautifully during NaNo?? OR ANYTIME? BECAUSE THE BEAUTY. You are doing a WONDERFUL job bringing the setting to life. Everything felt, well, ALIVE. AND THESE CHARACTERS. The shipping is already happening. Haaaaard. Noya and Emyr are PRECIOUS. <333333 "Her name was his anchor." *CLUTCHES HEART* I LOVED THAT SO MUCH. That is so sweet she gave him a name. And and and magic mirror and GRIFFIN and animal bonding and just ALL THE THIIIINGS. Your world sounds so perfectly magical and immersive and I WANT TO LIVE THERE.

I JUST LOVE THIS ALL SO MUCH. I can't even type a coherent comment.

Thank you so very much for sharing and joining the linkup. And congrats again!!!! I hope the rest of the writing goes WONDERFULLY. Because YES THIS NEEDS TO BE PUBLISHED. I NEEDS IT, PRECIOUSSSS. Now I'M dreaming of it sitting on my shelf and just AAAAAHHHHH! YES PLEASE. When/if you're ready for beta-readers, I'd LOVE to! :D
Melissa GravitisDecember 14, 2019 at 4:48 PM
THOSE SNIPPETS! Absolutely gorgeous!!! <3 I love retellings, so this sounds right up my alley. *squeals* All the best with finishing off your draft; you can do it!! *waves pom poms*