My original intent for Emily's character was that of a rigidly disciplined military person. She was supposed to be tasked with watching over Oliver during the course of A Boy Called Hawk, where she would efficiently use her position to support his endeavors. Obviously, this character design was short-lived. I'd have forgotten it entirely if it weren't written (and struck out) in my first brainstorming notes. I like her better as the idealistic, unwitting pawn that she is anyway.
When I made that shift in her character from "empowered and entrenched in the system" to "naively going along with what everyone says to do" she became a sort of Everyman character, one that I hoped people would be able to relate to easily. I chose her name based on its popularity: "Emily" has been one of the top 10 most popular names for little girls since 1991, including a 12-year stint (1996-2007) as the #1 most popular name. What its popularity will be forty years from now, I have no clue, but given its use now, I figured that my Emily could realistically be named after her grandmothers. Yes, both of them.
Her last name, "Brent," I pilfered from a character in Agatha Christie's The Secret of Chimneys. Bundle Brent (aka Lady Eileen) plays a relatively minor role in that novel. I'm not sure what appealed to me so much about her that I'd name a character after her, except maybe that she couldn't hold a candle to Virginia Revel. She's the average, frank and happy girl to Virginia's more elegant lady. And much as I love Virginia, there was still this sort of inner wish that Bundle could have more of a chance to play primary. (As an aside, I despise The Seven Dials Mystery, where Bundle takes center stage, but not because of her. It's because I was fairly in love with the murderer and therefore hated the twisted ending. Curse you, Ms. Christie.)
Emily's middle name is June, but she never tells anyone this because she thinks it sounds dated. She doesn't even use the initial J because she doesn't want people asking her what it stands for. Both of her parents are college professors, her mother in rhetoric/composition and her father in the health sciences. She grew up with academia as a utopian ideal, the perfect profession. There's never been any question in her mind that she too would become a professor, and her life-choices thus far have kept her on that track.
I love to ask people who have read A Boy Called Hawk what Emily looks like. I haven't received the same answer yet, even though everyone so far has described a concrete image. In truth, I tried not to give many specific descriptors for her appearance at all, because I wanted the reader's imagination to fill in those blanks. Thus, she is tidy, meticulous, and occasionally impulsive; she's very particular about what she wears and what she eats (a rigid self-discipline that was probably held over from her discarded original character concept); and, she has hair long enough to pull back into a ponytail. She thinks of herself as a normal girl, with no great pride in her face but enough self-respect to always want to look her best.
As a character, she's something of a chameleon, I guess. She doesn't like to stand out, so she becomes whatever she needs to become to fit into a situation. This is one of the reasons she (unwittingly) gets along with Oliver so well. Unlike him, her self-worth isn't wrapped up in her intelligence, so she doesn't mind playing the idiot sidekick to his boy-genius, especially if it keeps him happy. In that respect, she's a people-pleaser. She likes to meet the expectations of others, because that makes her feel successful.
I put her through a lot of trouble, but I kind of feel like she deserves it because she's so idealistically naive. She's the type of person who won't look behind the curtain to see who's controlling things from the shadows simply because she'd rather believe that everything is what it claims to be on the surface. She's honest and instinctively expects everyone else to be honest too.
At the same time, though, she's smart enough that she'll catch on eventually. The more secrets exposed to her, the more her mind opens and she comes to realize that her world is not the same bill of goods she's been sold all of her life. While others become cynical or remain intentionally ignorant, Emily reassesses and adjusts her course accordingly. I think, in that respect, she's a very pure character and someone who will make drastic changes, someday.
And that's all I have to say about her.
Next time: The Prometheus Institute
30 May 2011
24 May 2011
Peeling the Onion: Oliver Dunn
Oliver Henry Dunn is, one could argue, the principle character of both A Boy Called Hawk and A Rumor of Real Irish Tea. (In actuality, Emily's the real principle, but her existence revolves around Oliver, so that makes Oliver the center of the universe, as it were.) When I very first imagined his character, it was as the overly arrogant antagonist to Hawk and Hummer's protagonists (Honey and Happy were more passive in my original brainstorming, I think). As the story developed, though, it did seem to become more about Oliver than the four Wests. They already had their eyes wide open, whereas he still had so much to learn. Thus, he became the more interesting character to me.
He's named after Oliver Cromwell, 1st Lord Protector of the Commonwealth of England. I should here note that I haven't actually read the linked wikipedia article, or anything specifically about Cromwell. That's because I named Oliver after my lingering impression of Cromwell from history learned ages past. Weird as this may sound, it was important to me not to research further than that--in my mind Cromwell was an ambiguous figure, and I didn't want to delve into whether he was good or bad. My impression of him was that of a man who believed in his cause but probably went about it the wrong way. Plus he was a killjoy because he supported shutting down all the playhouses in London (including the Globe Theatre, though this was well after Shakespeare's death). That alone made him the perfect namesake for Oliver's character.
Oliver's original surname was going to be Hill, but I scrapped that almost as soon as I thought of it. My four little protagonists had names that started with the letter H, so I tried to avoid that letter when naming everyone else. Hence, "Hill" became "Dunn" via the Old English word "dun," meaning "hill" (and the ancestor of ModE "dune"). Ten points to me for sheer stubbornness. "Dunn" with the geminate n is also OE, with a meaning of "dingy brown, dark-coloured." This may have influenced Oliver's appearance, though I don't recall doing any conscious plotting on that front. In my imagination, he was always dark-haired and sour-faced.
For his middle name, I broke the "no H" rule and dubbed him Henry. I love this name, but explaining why would take an entire post on its own. Suffice to say that "Henry" has come to represent to me someone who has far more potential than they are fulfilling. It fits Oliver very nicely. (And no, I don't personally know anyone named Henry, so that representation is not meant as a slight. I came by it honestly.)
Oliver's physical features, as I recall, are only ever noted through Emily's observation of "a pale-faced, dark-haired boy who stared sullenly back at her." He's unusually fussy about his appearance and is the type of person who'd stand in front of a mirror for hours just to get everything perfect, if he could. He likes to slick back his hair with a wet comb because he thinks it looks more grown-up. He would also be completely mortified if anyone discovered him doing this sort of fussy upkeep, because he wants everyone to think his image is inherent to him rather than something contrived.
One of his most prominent characteristics is an inferiority complex that manifests through arrogance and insults. His self-worth is centered entirely on his brains: basically, because he's smarter than everyone else, he's better than everyone else, and if he wasn't smart he'd be worthless. This has been a point of contention between him and most of his handlers throughout his Prometheus experience, mainly because he insists on seeing himself as their intellectual superior. Understandably, most of them can't take that sort of attitude from a snotty little kid.
His null-projection is further proof of his superiority and marks him as unique, but he has mixed feelings about it. He understands that he's being used by the adults, but he also has pride in being the only person they can turn to. The null-projection itself is a relatively recent development, though. It was discovered when he was six-turning-seven, and developed strongly in the year that followed. By the time he turned eight, it was full-fledged. To Oliver, it's not all that notable because he can't really control it and it doesn't really affect him. It is his "normal," so he can't understand anything beyond it. He does like the assurance that projectors can't influence him, though.
He's too young to have a love interest, but he develops a secret and suppressed crush on Emily. He'd die a thousand deaths before admitting that out loud, and really, she's more like a favorite toy than a true crush. Since he's only ten, his instinctive method of coping with his feelings is to belittle her, which he does quite frequently. That she takes his belittling so well only increases his admiration for her. As for his fellow classmates, he wouldn't call any of them friends. They're rivals for his teachers' praise and recognition. Oliver looks at all of his interactions as a competition, and he doesn't like to lose.
That competitiveness is really what fuels his pursuit of the Wests. He looks down on Hawk and Hummer because they were students of the F Campus--flunkies, in his eyes. That Hummer once trounced him in a mechanics competition doesn't help matters, since Oliver feels compelled to prove he's smarter. There's also a secret jealousy at play, though. Oliver, who has forever stood alone, resents those who have friends and family around them. True to the proverbial "misery loves company," he ultimately wants the Wests brought back to Prometheus because he's also stuck there. Deep down, he wants them to feel the same isolation and rejection that he's felt for all of his life.
I like to say that my characters are like my children. That doesn't mean I don't have favorites, though. Oliver is one that I'd love to huggle just to watch him squirm in indignation. I suppose in many ways he's an incarnation of an earlier me, so I want him to grow and develop and realize that there's more to life than how smart others might think you are. Even though I have no plans to write his story beyond A Rumor of Real Irish Tea, I can imagine the places he'll go in life and that makes me happy--because I know that someday, he will be too.
Next time: Emily Brent
He's named after Oliver Cromwell, 1st Lord Protector of the Commonwealth of England. I should here note that I haven't actually read the linked wikipedia article, or anything specifically about Cromwell. That's because I named Oliver after my lingering impression of Cromwell from history learned ages past. Weird as this may sound, it was important to me not to research further than that--in my mind Cromwell was an ambiguous figure, and I didn't want to delve into whether he was good or bad. My impression of him was that of a man who believed in his cause but probably went about it the wrong way. Plus he was a killjoy because he supported shutting down all the playhouses in London (including the Globe Theatre, though this was well after Shakespeare's death). That alone made him the perfect namesake for Oliver's character.
Oliver's original surname was going to be Hill, but I scrapped that almost as soon as I thought of it. My four little protagonists had names that started with the letter H, so I tried to avoid that letter when naming everyone else. Hence, "Hill" became "Dunn" via the Old English word "dun," meaning "hill" (and the ancestor of ModE "dune"). Ten points to me for sheer stubbornness. "Dunn" with the geminate n is also OE, with a meaning of "dingy brown, dark-coloured." This may have influenced Oliver's appearance, though I don't recall doing any conscious plotting on that front. In my imagination, he was always dark-haired and sour-faced.
For his middle name, I broke the "no H" rule and dubbed him Henry. I love this name, but explaining why would take an entire post on its own. Suffice to say that "Henry" has come to represent to me someone who has far more potential than they are fulfilling. It fits Oliver very nicely. (And no, I don't personally know anyone named Henry, so that representation is not meant as a slight. I came by it honestly.)
Oliver's physical features, as I recall, are only ever noted through Emily's observation of "a pale-faced, dark-haired boy who stared sullenly back at her." He's unusually fussy about his appearance and is the type of person who'd stand in front of a mirror for hours just to get everything perfect, if he could. He likes to slick back his hair with a wet comb because he thinks it looks more grown-up. He would also be completely mortified if anyone discovered him doing this sort of fussy upkeep, because he wants everyone to think his image is inherent to him rather than something contrived.
One of his most prominent characteristics is an inferiority complex that manifests through arrogance and insults. His self-worth is centered entirely on his brains: basically, because he's smarter than everyone else, he's better than everyone else, and if he wasn't smart he'd be worthless. This has been a point of contention between him and most of his handlers throughout his Prometheus experience, mainly because he insists on seeing himself as their intellectual superior. Understandably, most of them can't take that sort of attitude from a snotty little kid.
His null-projection is further proof of his superiority and marks him as unique, but he has mixed feelings about it. He understands that he's being used by the adults, but he also has pride in being the only person they can turn to. The null-projection itself is a relatively recent development, though. It was discovered when he was six-turning-seven, and developed strongly in the year that followed. By the time he turned eight, it was full-fledged. To Oliver, it's not all that notable because he can't really control it and it doesn't really affect him. It is his "normal," so he can't understand anything beyond it. He does like the assurance that projectors can't influence him, though.
He's too young to have a love interest, but he develops a secret and suppressed crush on Emily. He'd die a thousand deaths before admitting that out loud, and really, she's more like a favorite toy than a true crush. Since he's only ten, his instinctive method of coping with his feelings is to belittle her, which he does quite frequently. That she takes his belittling so well only increases his admiration for her. As for his fellow classmates, he wouldn't call any of them friends. They're rivals for his teachers' praise and recognition. Oliver looks at all of his interactions as a competition, and he doesn't like to lose.
That competitiveness is really what fuels his pursuit of the Wests. He looks down on Hawk and Hummer because they were students of the F Campus--flunkies, in his eyes. That Hummer once trounced him in a mechanics competition doesn't help matters, since Oliver feels compelled to prove he's smarter. There's also a secret jealousy at play, though. Oliver, who has forever stood alone, resents those who have friends and family around them. True to the proverbial "misery loves company," he ultimately wants the Wests brought back to Prometheus because he's also stuck there. Deep down, he wants them to feel the same isolation and rejection that he's felt for all of his life.
I like to say that my characters are like my children. That doesn't mean I don't have favorites, though. Oliver is one that I'd love to huggle just to watch him squirm in indignation. I suppose in many ways he's an incarnation of an earlier me, so I want him to grow and develop and realize that there's more to life than how smart others might think you are. Even though I have no plans to write his story beyond A Rumor of Real Irish Tea, I can imagine the places he'll go in life and that makes me happy--because I know that someday, he will be too.
Next time: Emily Brent
18 May 2011
Writing about Writing
I've probably already mentioned this somewhere, but the whole reason I started this blog was so that I could have contact information to put on the copyright page of A Boy Called Hawk. I certainly wasn't going to put my home address, and putting an email address apparently is like asking to be added to every spam list possible. Hence was born the Placeholder Blog, and I've done very little with it, mainly because I wasn't sure what I wanted to do.
I'm still not sure. However, since this is a placeholder for my copyright page, I might as well populate it with information about my books. And no, I don't mean the "You can buy my stuff here!" sort of information (though you might notice the handy links on the sidebar...). I mean the "This was my creative process" sort of information, the little bits about my motivations, or character/plot elements that I used in the planning stages but that weren't necessarily overt in the book itself. I really should record that information somewhere, shouldn't I?
And with that rambling introduction, I'll get started. I'm tentatively calling this little exercise "Peeling the Onion."
Today's subject: A Boy Called Hawk
A Boy Called Hawk is the only one of my books that is commercially available, for two reasons. First, I'm terrible at the querying process. I've mailed a grand total of five cold queries in the three-plus years that I've been writing (and none within the last two). One of those actually (and miraculously) made it to the final stage of "agent reviews entire manuscript" before it lost its momentum. You'd think I would have been motivated to keep at it, but no.
Something about the process--the impending rejection, perhaps--always threw me into despondency for days or even weeks after I mailed the silly letters. Then I noticed that the same thing was happening when I planned to mail letters. So, I just... procrastinated. With each book I wrote, I thought, "You know, I really should query this out," and then didn't. A Boy Called Hawk was the one exception. Even as I was writing it, I knew I didn't want to query it. And that is the second reason it's my only published book. Since I knew I wasn't going to sell it to someone else, I had nothing to lose by self-publishing.
I think I just assumed that it would be too difficult to sell, so I didn't even bother trying. That combined with the timeline of the book itself made me want to see a print copy sooner rather than later. The plot is set forty years in the future, but books like that, in my opinion, are always most relevant to the time they were written in. It doesn't so much portray how the future really will be in forty years (one can hope), but instead makes commentary on the trends of today. Or something like that.
Basically, my thought process at the time was, "This could be totally irrelevant in two or three years," and "Hey! Coupon for a free proof copy from Createspace!"
And thus was born the little formatting adventure wherein I discovered that I enjoy typesetting a bookmore than as much as I enjoy writing it.
I had someone ask me something along the lines of, "Why that title? Hawk isn't any more prominent than the other three kids." I kind of addressed this in the author's note at the beginning of the book, but I'll add my reason here too: my whole creative process for this book began with the character of Hawk (whom I'll probably write more about in a future post). It was A Boy Called Hawk before any of his siblings were added, before the need for characters like Oliver and Emily ever even occurred to me. Plainly put, the name stuck from the very beginning. I'm pretty terrible with titles anyway, so I figured it was as good as anything else I could come up with. Sorry if it comes across as totally random.
A Rumor of Real Irish Tea, now, that was meant to be totally random.
And that's enough about that.
Next time: Oliver Dunn
I'm still not sure. However, since this is a placeholder for my copyright page, I might as well populate it with information about my books. And no, I don't mean the "You can buy my stuff here!" sort of information (though you might notice the handy links on the sidebar...). I mean the "This was my creative process" sort of information, the little bits about my motivations, or character/plot elements that I used in the planning stages but that weren't necessarily overt in the book itself. I really should record that information somewhere, shouldn't I?
And with that rambling introduction, I'll get started. I'm tentatively calling this little exercise "Peeling the Onion."
Today's subject: A Boy Called Hawk
A Boy Called Hawk is the only one of my books that is commercially available, for two reasons. First, I'm terrible at the querying process. I've mailed a grand total of five cold queries in the three-plus years that I've been writing (and none within the last two). One of those actually (and miraculously) made it to the final stage of "agent reviews entire manuscript" before it lost its momentum. You'd think I would have been motivated to keep at it, but no.
Something about the process--the impending rejection, perhaps--always threw me into despondency for days or even weeks after I mailed the silly letters. Then I noticed that the same thing was happening when I planned to mail letters. So, I just... procrastinated. With each book I wrote, I thought, "You know, I really should query this out," and then didn't. A Boy Called Hawk was the one exception. Even as I was writing it, I knew I didn't want to query it. And that is the second reason it's my only published book. Since I knew I wasn't going to sell it to someone else, I had nothing to lose by self-publishing.
I think I just assumed that it would be too difficult to sell, so I didn't even bother trying. That combined with the timeline of the book itself made me want to see a print copy sooner rather than later. The plot is set forty years in the future, but books like that, in my opinion, are always most relevant to the time they were written in. It doesn't so much portray how the future really will be in forty years (one can hope), but instead makes commentary on the trends of today. Or something like that.
Basically, my thought process at the time was, "This could be totally irrelevant in two or three years," and "Hey! Coupon for a free proof copy from Createspace!"
And thus was born the little formatting adventure wherein I discovered that I enjoy typesetting a book
I had someone ask me something along the lines of, "Why that title? Hawk isn't any more prominent than the other three kids." I kind of addressed this in the author's note at the beginning of the book, but I'll add my reason here too: my whole creative process for this book began with the character of Hawk (whom I'll probably write more about in a future post). It was A Boy Called Hawk before any of his siblings were added, before the need for characters like Oliver and Emily ever even occurred to me. Plainly put, the name stuck from the very beginning. I'm pretty terrible with titles anyway, so I figured it was as good as anything else I could come up with. Sorry if it comes across as totally random.
A Rumor of Real Irish Tea, now, that was meant to be totally random.
And that's enough about that.
Next time: Oliver Dunn