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Great, thought-provoking post!
The other day a reader commented on a post I’d written about 9/11 as history and pointed out, quite rightly, that it doesn’t take long for events to be ‘packaged’ in ways that stand against the more dispassionate requirement of historians to understand.
I agree. There’s no doubt in my mind that dramatic events affecting whole societies are swiftly re-invented by those who live through them. Not least because of emotional entanglement with what’s just happened. This is normal, historically. I traced just such a re-invention of New Zealand’s 1915 Gallipoli defeat in my book Shattered Glory (Penguin 2010). By April 1916, just five months after the stalled campaign ended in an ignominious retreat, it had been re-cast as a glorious victory, because it was a sacrifice for Empire. This reflected prevailing pop-sentiment of the day towards our place in a wider British Empire and helped…
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I finally got a self-hosted site, so this blog is now going to be located at christinaochs.com. Most of you won’t notice a thing, since presumably WordPress is moving my followers over sometime today and everything more or less looks the same. The only bigger change is that you can easily sign up to my mailing list, which entitles you to special sneak previews of my book as it marches ever closer to publication. Be sure to stop by and say hi!
It’s time for Weekend Writing Warriors! Every Sunday, a bunch of writers post 8-sentence snippets from their WIPs on their blogs. There’s a lot of reading, commenting and great writing. Click on the link to see the full list.
Last week, Janna and Anton watched a bunch of scary people destroy the farm they were staying at. With no food, no money, and nowhere to go, they make their way to a tavern whose proprietor- Maya- helped Janna when she was first on her way to the farm.
Maya was outside, watering some flowers in a pot by the door. “Why, it’s you again,” she said, her pleasant face creased in a smile. “You and your boy- though I could’ve sworn you had a little girl last time you were here.”
Janna had thought she couldn’t possibly cry anymore, but the moment she tried to speak, the tears came again.
“Oh dear,” Maya said, “something dreadful’s happened, hasn’t it? We’ve been hearing the most terrible stories these past few days.”
“My sister’s dead,” Anton said, as Janna tried to gulp down her sobs. “That woman with the horrible eyes killed her.”
Previous snippets are here.
Happy New Year! It’s time for Weekend Writing Warriors! Every Sunday, a bunch of writers post 8-sentence snippets from their WIPs on their blogs. There’s a lot of reading, commenting and great writing. Click on the link to see the full list.
We last left Janna hiding in the woods with Anton, while the farm where they lived was attacked. Anyezka, Janna’s 5-year-old stepdaughter is at the farm, but there’s nothing they can do until the marauders leave. Finally, they see them coming down the road.
A woman rode at the head of the group. Tangled black curls fell down her back, over a long, dirty sheepskin coat similar to what the others wore. But while they whooped and laughed, she looked around silently, scanning the edges of the forest. Janna shrank back.
The woman slowed her horse to a stop as she sniffed the air and Janna could have sworn her eyes glowed yellow, like an animal’s. She sniffed again, then shrugged and urged her horse on. Neither Janna nor Anton breathed until they were well down the road.
“What was that?” Anton asked, still shaking
Oh, I think we know exactly who it is- though the what may still be unclear! Guess she didn’t waste any time getting right back to work after installing Braeden in his cozy dungeon.
Previous snippets are here.
It’s a good thing I keep a journal. In looking back on the year, it felt like I’d done nothing but write fiction. That was not altogether true. While 2014 was by far my most productive fiction-writing year yet, I didn’t really kick into gear until it was nearly half over.
When it came to personal and family drama, 2014 was blissfully uneventful. There were ups and downs but no major illnesses, deaths, or emergencies. There was one messy divorce that I got very peripherally involved in, but compared to the upheavals of the past decade, life went pretty smoothly. Even though we spent a crazy amount of time and money on truck and trailer repairs, those are minor problems in the grand scheme of things.
Early in the year, I realized that I needed to come up with a proper plot, so I spent a great deal of time figuring out the major events of my story and writing really detailed character profiles. I was doing this pretty part-time. My main focus back then was still on our online dating blog and book. During the spring, I had all kinds of crazy technical problems around that, and also felt like I needed to really step up marketing efforts around it. I just wasn’t feeling it, though. All I wanted to do was work on the novel.
Last week, we left Kendryk terribly worried that he would be forced into a confrontation with the empress. Gwynneth sees it as an opportunity for Kendryk to take advantage of the empress while she’s distracted with a number of other problems, so she’s trying to persuade him to assert the somewhat nebulous rights he holds under an ancient imperial charter.
“But what will you do if Teodora simply orders you to send Father Landrus straight to her?” Gwynneth asked.
“Perhaps I can respond with a counteroffer to buy some time,” Kendryk said, looking rather distressed at the idea.
“Don’t bother with all of that- just tell her what you intend to do and refer her to your charter if she objects.”
“I sometimes think you should be the ruler,” Kendryk said, and slid an arm around her waist. “You’d be better at it.”
“Oh, that;s ridiculous- you’re quite good at it yourself,” Gwynneth said, though she was pleased. “In fact, you’re very like my father, always weighing the risks and making very careful decisions. I’m afraid I didn’t inherit much of that.”
Previous snippets are here.