Get to Know Your Characters Responses: Right-Hand Man

Happy Thursday, readers! With blog tours and the conclusion of the Get to Know Your Characters challenge, today has been an exciting day here at the blog. Do take the time to visit (and perhaps comment) on the exceptional pieces below!

By Gabrielle Massman

Prompts Chosen:

• Your villain’s right-hand man is between three and ten. Write something that shows what their life was like at that point.
• Write about the time when your villain and his right-hand man (or woman) met.
• Your character has lost something important—what is it, where is it, and why do they need it?

The Unmaking, by Natasha Roxby

Prompt Chosen:

• Write about the time when your villain and his (or her) right-hand man (or woman) met.

By Alea Harper

Prompt Chosen

• Your character has lost something important—what is it, where is it, and why do they need it?

Choices, by Katie Grace

Prompt Chosen

• Your character has lost something important—what is it, where is it, and why do they need it?

By Jessica Lockwood

Prompt Chosen

• Write about the time when your villain and his (in this case, random minion) met.

By Jessi L. Roberts

Prompt Chosen

• Write about a year before the start of your story.

By Faith Song

Prompt Chosen

• Write about a time when your villain and right-hand man were interacting normally. Let us know how they talk to each other, what sort of friendship (or enmity) they have.

By—me!

Prompts Chosen

•    Your villain’s right-hand man is between three and ten. Write something that shows what their life was like at that point.
• Write about the time when your villain and his (or her) right-hand man (or woman) met.

These two are my villain, and his right-hand man, from the not-yet-begun novel, By the Light of Five Stars. 

Note: The word “Thond” means father. (If you’re curious as to why I used “Mama” instead of creating a word for that: “mama” is a title or endearing term for mother found in many different languages that could not possibly have borrowed from each other. I figured that, if it’s found so frequently in our world, it could very likely be found in another, too. 

---

 

The shrill, desperate cry of a baby filled the air.

Mathio cringed, drawing in a breath sharp enough to sting his lungs with the cold air. Mama had said that the baby would cry, that it was a good thing—but his mind could not help but flashing back to when this had happened last time. Tumo had cried and could not stop until the day before they buried him.

“It won’t be that way this time,” he reminded himself fiercely under his breath. “It won’t. The baby will be okay.”

Only the frost witnessed the break in his voice.

Backing up against the wall of the midwife’s house, Mathio squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around his thick coat. Thond would be out any minute now to tell him about the baby. Mama wouldn’t know that Mathio had trekked across the town to get to the midwife’s house when he was supposed to be at home, but Thond would know—fathers always seemed to know.

Across town, a confused rooster crowed—dawn would not come for hours, but apparently the rooster did not know it.

To the right of Mathio, the latch clicked and the midwife’s door opened. His breath catching in his throat, Mathio pivoted toward the door.

He was latching his arms around Thond’s waist before his father even managed to get half-way out the door.

“Whoah,” Thond murmured, sliding further out of the door. “Someone is eager.”

Sniffing, Mathio nodded. “Is the baby good?”

“Very,” Thond said.

Mathio stepped back to peer up at Thond’s face, voice dropping to a whisper. “The baby isn’t going to die?”

“No, Mathio,” Thond said. “He won’t die.”

A rush of relief flooded through Mathio, the tension draining out of his muscles. If Thond said the baby would not die, the baby would live.

“It’s a—a boy?” He asked.

Thond smiled, but the moonlight illuminating his face revealed the wrinkle in his brow. “Yes,” he said. “A boy.”

“Can I meet him?”

“In just a moment,” Thond said. Taking Mathio’s hand, he guided him to the door and sat upon the step, staring into Mathio’s face.

Panic gripped Mathio again, and he reached out with his free hand to wrap it around Thond’s strong, warm one. “The baby is going to be all right—”

“Yes, yes,” Thond’s deep voice murmured.

“Then—,” Mathio started.

“Don’t worry,” Thond said.

Mathio swallowed hard and tried not to worry.

“The baby’s name is Essien,” Thond said, voice soft yet seemingly loud against the relative quiet of a sleeping city. “He is the third son.”

Mathio waited for Thond to continue, but Thond only looked at him, quiet.

The weight of his father’s words hit Mathio like an invisible punch in the stomach. “He—he will get the stars?”

“When he turns twelve,” Thond quietly confirmed.

“But—” Exhausted tears pricked at Mathio’s eyes. “But they’ll hurt him like they hurt you.”

“He’ll be all right,” Thond murmured, pulling Mathio into his arms. Mathio hid his face in Thond’s shoulder, biting his tongue to keep the despair from washing over him.

But Thond had said the baby—Essien—wouldn’t die. Thond had to be right.

“You’ll look out for him, won’t you?” Thond said, his voice vibrating Mathio.

Not raising his head, Mathio nodded. “Always.”

Pulling back, Mathio looked up at Thond’s face.

His father smiled and stood. “Wait here,” he murmured.

Biting his lip, Mathio nodded, not taking his eyes off of Thond as he opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind himself.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Mathio tried to envision what his brother’s face would look like. The images flashing across his mind matched only babies that he knew already; boys and girls he could name. Surely Essien would look different from that.

The door opened again. Inching backwards, Mathio tried to quell the nervousness rising up inside of him. Thond stepped out, a bundle of blue cloth cradled in one arm, a candlestick clasped in his other hand. His reassuring smile lit up by candlelight, Thond crouched, nodding for Mathio to approach.

Swallowing, Mathio stepped forward, peering into the face of his brother.

Eyes closed, face illuminated by the flickering candle, Essien’s tiny, beautiful face forced a jolt through Mathio’s heart.

Silently, he vowed that he would never—never leave his brother’s side.

“Essien,” he whispered, testing out the name. “Essien?”

Though Essien’s eyes did not open, Mathio could have sworn his tiny lips turned upward in the faintest smile.

 

 

 

 

 

Get to Know Your Characters Challenge: Right-Hand Man

Happy Tuesday, readers! And ’tis indeed a happy Tuesday, for today is a day of announcement for a new Get to Know Your Characters (in blue this time! Isn’t that splendid?).

What is it?

GTKYC is a trimonthly challenge to discover more about your various characters while stretching your proverbial writing muscles. It’s a challenge open to anyone who wants to jump on board, be they young or old, or somewhere in between.

How does it work? 

Anyone who wishes to participate in the challenge picks a character from one of their stories. Each GTKYC Challenge has a specific character type — in this case, The villain’s right-hand man. (If your villain is more of a loner type, feel free to do the villain himself,  or if your villain has no right-hand man, you can do a former best friend, current best friend, random minion #87, or basically whatever you want).

The participants have sixteen days to create work in any medium they like (poetry, prose, even film if you’re feeling brave) about their character, choosing a scenario from The List Provided Below to write about. Post your work on your blog, and leave a link in the comments or email it to me (craftingstoriesinred(at)gmail(dot)com) and I will post all links to participating blogs in a follow-up post. That post will go live at the end of the challenge, on February 19th, and will also contain my responses to the challenge. Because I’m posting them on my blog, I request that all stories be clean. I do have some young readers.

If you do not have a blog, you can post your response in the comments of this blog post and I’ll link back to your comment and let people know it’s here so they can check it out.

Post your response at any point from now to Thursday, February 19th. If you can, please get the link to me by the 18th.

Why should you do it? 

Well, because knowing your characters is important! You can also get a chance to share about your awesome characters, exercise writing muscles, get feedback from other writers, and have a chance to publicize your blog right here!

The List Provided Below

Feel free to do more than one, or mix and match scenarios!

• Your villains right-hand man is between three and ten. Write something that shows what their life was like at that point.
• Write about the time when your villain and his (0r her) right-hand man (or woman) met.
• Write about a time when your villain and right-hand man were interacting normally. Let us know how they talk to each other, what sort of friendship (or enmity) they have.
• Write about a year before the start of your story.
• Your character has lost something important—what is it, where is it, and why do they need it?

I look forward to meeting your villain’s second-in-commands over the next sixteen days. If you have any questions, feel free to comment!

 

 

Get to Know Your Characters Challenge Responses: Antagonists

Today is Thursday, readers—Thursday the 16th. As promised, the Get to Know Your Characters: Antagonist closes today, with some exceptional pieces of work from a couple of different writers. Do go check out their work, and I’m sure they would love to have you comment!

First Blood, by Michael Hollingworth

Prompt Chosen: Write about the first time your villain killed or ordered the death of someone.

So Easy, by Beckah (Ghost Ryter)

Prompt Chosen: Write about the first time your villain killed or ordered the death of someone.

Untitled, by Katie Grace

Prompt Chosen: Your antagonist is between three and ten. Write something that represents their life at that point.

---

I decided to write something with my villain from IOTW. It brought up a slightly awkward question of what exactly to call him; he gave my protagonist four choices when she first asked his name. Eventually I decided to call him what he’s called in the novel for the sake of continuity, but at one point in the story he refers to himself by another one of his names. The majority of the time he’s called Rais, but in his thoughts, he calls himself Rashad.  Before you reach this point and give me the look, know that it wasn’t an accident.

This was a very interesting thing for me to write. Since IOTW is in first person, I never had the chance to go this far into my villain’s point of view prior to this. Though he’s changed slightly between this time and the novel, it was nice to be able to get a feel for his character. 

The prompt I chose:

• Write about when your antagonist moved into his place of current residence.

—

Darkness.

Nothing but darkness as far as Rais could see. Slowly, he lifted himself upon bleeding hands, raising himself onto his knees, though nothing was beneath him to support his weight.

“No,” he whispered, the word punctuated by his heartbeat thudding in his ears. “No, it didn’t happen. It. Didn’t.”

Not even an echo drifted back to him. He remained completely and entirely alone.

His thoughts chased themselves around in his head, none quite becoming comprehensible, all of them filled with the desperation he tried to push back within himself.

…it should have worked…

   … he must have been dying…

    …not wrong… I could not have been…

   …Why?…

   Carefully, Rais climbed to his feet, allowing his eyes to slide shut so they would not continue straining to see. He knew there would be no light. His whole body screamed pain at him and he could feel the damp of blood and sweat, but he remained on his feet. Rais inhaled slowly through his nose and let it out through his mouth, shaping his face into the smile he had become so used to wearing.

He could do this. He knew he could manage, if only he could stay calm.

If time had been even vaguely measurable, standing there for a long moment might perhaps have worked. As it was, Rais was more aware of the lack of time than of the steady breathing in-breathing-out pattern, and abruptly he collapsed onto his knees again, beating at nothing with his fists as the desperation welled up inside of himself.

“No!” He shouted. “No, I did not fail!”

The silence did not even have the decency to answer as it would have in a world.

Slowly, Rais allowed himself to sink down lower onto the ground. His heart slammed against his ribcage and the silence magnified the sound of his breathing until it seemed almost deafening.

Light. Rais scrambled to his feet, his entire body shaking. He needed light.

Peeling his eyelids open, he stared out into the complete darkness surrounding him. He could see nothing, no matter how hard his eyes strained.

You must know how to do this, he said, mentally adopting his slightly patronizing tone to speak to himself. Think, Rashad.

  Rais closed his eyes again, balling his hands into fists and ignoring the pain that shot up his arms. Light danced across the inside of his eyelids, teasing him with it’s lack of existence. Slowly the correct words came to his mind, and though it made his gut twist further into a knot, he whispered them.

“In case you ever have to form a half-world,” he had been taught. “This is how you go about it. One step at a time, eh? Keep it easy, though. No cementing. Keep it changeable. Your world, eh? Your commands oughta keep working whenever you give ’em.”

    He could feel the energy draining out of his body, but he kept his eyes squeezed shut, forcing himself to continue. It would work—it had to.

They thought they could imprison him. Idiots—he could do this. He could bend the prison to his own will.

Light flashed through his closed eyelids, staining them red as blood. He opened his eyes, gasping for breath as he saw the sun, the complete, glorious desert sun, beginning to rise on the horizon.

Perhaps it was fake—he didn’t know for sure, but he could see light. It was all that mattered.

Rais collapsed, the entirety of his energy spent, but he did not close his eyes; he remained staring up into the sun that belonged in the early morning desert sky. It already gave off enough heat to bake anything that happened to fall beneath the rays of light, but Rais did not care.

“You did not succeed,” he whispered, his lips scarcely moving. “I will not stay here. I will save it.”

He closed his eyes, letting the light that shone from nothing and onto nothing wash over him, his lips now moving soundlessly as he let the exhaustion and the effects of the injuries take over. “You cannot stop me from saving the desert.”

 

 

 

Get to Know Your Characters Challenge: Antagonist

 

Good afternoon, folks. Today is the day that Get to Know Your Characters returns; hopefully with a better picture this time, and a more official way of doing things.

From this point on, Get To Know Your Characters has turned tri-monthly. Every three months, on the first Tuesday of the month, bloggers are challenged to write something about the specified character type from their novels (whether works-in-progress or finished) and post it on their blogs. The point of the challenge is to help authors learn more about their characters through writing prose, exploring situations in character’s past with their pen (or keyboard).

Those participating in the challenge write up their bit of writing, post it on their blogs (or in the comment section of this post, if they don’t have a blog or would prefer to not post it on their blogs) on or before October 16  (preferably before, but life can be life, so it’s best to have a “or”) and send me the link to their posts. Sixteen days after the challenge was issued, the blog post will go up here with my piece of writing and with a link to the post of every person participating.

The character-type for this month: Antagonist.

The way of doing things: Pick a topic from this list and write something 100 words or more and post it on your blog.  (Feel free to mix and mash topics, or do more than one, if you wish!)

• Your antagonist is between three and ten. Write something that represents their life at that point.
• Write about a year before the start of your novel.
• Write about the first time your villain killed or ordered the death of someone (bonus points if you focus on how it made them feel).
• Your antagonist and his/her best friend, brother or sister, or second-in-command are talking about something completely random of your choice, within the past year.
• Write about when your antagonist moved into his place of current residence (then again, maybe I’m the only one interested in seeing the villain moving into his lair).

BONUS: Write about the day or night before your antagonist was born. It’s slightly random, but sometimes it’s interesting to explore what was going on at that time.

The Challenge closes on October 16, so you must have your piece of writing posted and the link sent to me by or before that date. You an email the link to me or post it in the comments here.  (If you do decide to post it on that date, it’s best if you get it to me before noon, that way I can be sure to have it when I post the blog post.)

Over the next sixteen days, I look forward to being able to meet your antagonists.

 

 

Get to Know Your Characters Challenge — Responses

 

It’s Monday. Late Monday, though I planned on posting it earlier today, but as long as it’s before midnight, it’s not too terribly late, I suppose.

As those who read last Tuesday’s post know, this blog was the origin for a challenge: to write about your protagonist’s past from a list of ideas. Not many people participated this time around, but those who did made it worth it.

The Participants 

Katie – Cousins in Christ *

Emily Fisher – Posted Hers In the Comments of Tuesday’s Post.

Alyssa – Alyssa should post hers in the same place Emily did, on the comments of last Tuesday’s post.*

*These stories aren’t posted yet, but don’t fear. Watch. They will be seen.

 

My Snippet

I’m afraid what I wrote is not very good, and, indeed, might make “mediocre” look bad, had not a friend helped me with some editing. Read on, and do know that this is certainly not the best I’ve ever written. However, you get to meet two of my protagonists from my top-secret novel, IOTW. Nothing this detailed about them and their story has ever ended up on the internet before now.

I decided to mix these three prompts into the same story:

• Write about your protagonist celebrating a major holiday, such as Christmas or New Year’s Day.
• Write about a year before the adventure started.
• Write about interaction with a childhood friend–while in childhood, or what would happen when the two met again after several years of not seeing each other.

—

Clumps of snow clung to my hair, stinging my already burning face whenever I moved my head. My smile had become too big for my cheeks, my face told me, and now it hurt as a consequence. I slumped onto the ground, leaning against the wall of my house. Nathaniel sat next to me, a grin firmly on his face.

I took a breath slowly. His bombardment of snowball were more than my lungs had agreed to put up with.  They decided to let only a small portion of the usual air in, intent on making me sit.

At least Nathaniel had suggested resting, not I.

Slowly, my breath returned and I pulled at my hair, dropping bits of snow onto the hard-packed ice beneath us. “Merry Christmas Eve,” I said. Bouncing, I added, “Papa said my cousins will be coming. Then everyone will be home.”

Nathaniel looked at me, his smile fading slightly. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he dipped his head in what might have been intended to look like a nod. “Merry Christmas Eve,” he said.

My forehead tied itself into small knots, and I leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”

Nathaniel blinked a few times, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

His answer came too quickly to be comforting, but I let it go. “Good.”

He smiled faintly, turning his gaze onto the snow beside his glove-clad hand. I watched him for a brief moment, then turned away and looked at the sun, dipping dangerously close to the horizon. “We’d better go inside.”

Nathaniel’s gaze stayed fixed on the invisible, fascinating thing on the snow. I sighed. “Nathaniel? Come on, it’s Christmas Eve. Let’s not do this today.”

Ever since I had known Nathaniel, he had moments where he seemed to be somewhere far away. Most of the time, it passed quickly. Every now and then, he would stay that way for hours.

He blinked, inhaling slowly. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

I let a smile break out over my face. “It’s okay. It’s going to be night soon, though.”

He let his gaze wonder to the Western sky, then got to his feet. “I’ll race you around the house again.”

I blinked, then lurched upright. “Okay, go!”

Mama called my name, and I glanced over to the door as she stepped out. I let my shoulders sag, though secretly I felt glad to avoid more running. “I guess we better go in now.”

Nathaniel nodded, brushing snow off of himself.

“We’re ready,” Mama called. I glanced at Nathaniel, then darted to the door. Nathaniel jogged after me.

Mama waited until we were both at the door before opening it, stepping back inside. I stepped in, followed by Nathaniel. He tugged the door shut after himself.

I had not realized how cold I was until I stepped into the warm house. Nathaniel grinned at me, sliding his coat off and brushing the snow onto the rug in front of the door.

“Just hang it up,” Mama said from across the room. “We’ll clean it up later.”

Nathaniel glanced at her and did as he was told.

I fumbled with my buckles with numb fingers. When Mama made me the coat, she thought it too big for an eleven year-old girl like me, but I had insisted I could manage.

Well, when I haven’t frozen my fingers, I can manage.

The buckle came loose, and I worked my way through all the others, finally removing my coat and hanging it on the peg on the wall. My scarf I left in my hair to keep it away from my face, but my shoes quickly found themselves on the floor beneath my coat.

Picking my way around the various things that lay scattered in my way, I moved to sit next to Papa, looking over his shoulder at the well-worn Bible in his hands.

Nathaniel sat next to me and Marshall took the opportunity to sit on him. “Hol’ me, ‘Than’il?”

Nathaniel looked at Mama, and she nodded. He shifted Marshall until he sat still, then wrapped his arms around him and looked at Papa.

Papa glanced around once, then started. “In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.”

—

The wind pushed against the ground, the cold from the snow and night air bothering it not a bit. Whooshing into the air and pushing against the faces of the boy and the girl’s father, the wind carried the cold with it in order to bother them.

    The girl’s father slowed, and the wind dashed away, observing what held his interest. “Are you sure you won’t stay with us tonight?”

    The wind pushed at the scrawny branches of nearby trees, then moved forward and entered the small house. Cold immediately greeted it, the house’s walls hardly held in place by now.

   Turning attention back to the girl’s father and the boy, the wind slid back to the ground again. The boy gave it a look, but the wind knew that, though the boy could see and hear the wind like the girl’s father could not, the boy would never address the wind. “No,” he said. “I’ll be fine. I know it doesn’t look very good, but the inside is warm enough. Thank you for letting me come over for dinner.”

   The girl’s father smiled, but the wind caught the doubtful look he cast the house. The wind’s amusement took the form of blown snow across the ground. The wind knew they had done this before, many times.  “It was my pleasure, Nathaniel.”

   The boy’s smile touched his face, but not, the wind noticed, his eyes. “Good night.”

   “Good night.”

   The boy made his way toward the house, and the wind left the girl’s father in peace, moving after the boy as he opened the door and stepped inside.

   He stopped, then smiled, inclining his head. “Lytton,” he said.

   The wind whispered to itself. The man, again, was here. The wind had not expected him to come this year, though he came every year at Christmas. Of course, the wind felt no surprise.

   The boy moved into the house, closing the door and moving to sit cross-legged before the man. The man sat on the floor, looking at the boy.

    For a moment, a long silence passed, broken only by the wind against the floor and the trees outside. The man glanced at the wind, a small smile tugging at his lips, but he, like the boy, did not address it. Instead, he turned to the boy, slowly inhaling.

   The boy up from the floor to meet the man’s gaze.

   “I wish you would come home.”

   The boy, the wind knew—for the wind knew a great many things—had not expected that. “I… I can’t.”

   The man leaned back, and the disappointment the wind knew he held remained far from his face.

   The silence stretched again until, finally, the boy leaned forward, dark eyes bright. “Tell me about it again?”

   The man smiled—for real this time, the wind noted with much whooshing about the room. “The night had long since fallen, but the sky was lit up still. They slept while we were there, and He alone knows we were present.”

   “You came to see Him?”

  “Yes,” the man said softly, eyes lost in the memory. “And we did. After the shepherds had left, we saw Him sleeping as a baby.”

— 

Well that is it. Now, I have a question for you: Did you enjoy this challenge, and do you like the idea of it? Would you be willing to participate if I did another? Would you like to see it return, or should this be a one-time thing? I need your comments now, more than ever.

This next part should get a prize for randomness. For the past week or so, I’ve been trying to decide if I want to post a link to a story I entered in the contest. Finally, I’ve decided that I should. You readers are getting the first look you’ve had into my writing, and I feel I ought to let you know that my writing isn’t always like the above bit. So, I present to you a story I wrote, which you can read here (mine is all the way at the bottom). I hope you enjoy it and the other stories… The others are so very good.

Get To Know Your Characters Challenge – Protagonist

Happy Tuesday, readers. For those of you concerned that this post signals the end of all character interviews on Red Lettering, don’t worry. We’ll resume the normal posting schedule with character interviews two weeks from today.

Today, though, seemed like a good day to test-run an idea of mine. Somehow, it seemed fitting to do it on a character interview day, not only because everybody gets excited about character interviews and I hope to have people look at this, but because in a way, I get to do something similar to interviewing all of your characters.

 

Even though tags and challenges abound in the blogging community, very few focus on what we writers do best: write. Occasionally, people will do character and writing-related tags, but those are few and far between. And so, I thought, what if there was a challenge to help writers develop their writing skills while learning more about their characters?

What if there was a challenge on someone’s blog where people would be challenged to pick a couple of options from a list, and write about their protagonist’s past?

Here’s How it Works

If you’re willing to participate, pick one or more challenges from the list below and post your completed snippet-type stories about your protagonists on your blog this coming Monday (July 28). Steal the picture and leave a link back here, and leave a comment on this post sometime between now and Sunday with the link to your blog. I’ll include a list of all participating blogs with links when I post my challenge snippets on Monday.

 

The List

• Write  about your protagonist from when he or she was between three and ten. Write something short that represents how their life was that point.
• Write about your protagonist celebrating a major holiday, such as Christmas or New Year’s Day.
• Write about a major turning point in your character’s life: the death of a loved one, a point where they find out a secret that changes their life, ect.
• Write about a year before the adventure started.
• Write about interaction with a childhood friend–while in childhood, or what would happen when the two met again after several years of not seeing each other.
• Write about when your character first interacted with your villain. (This for those who have already met their villains.)

Interested? Want to get to know your protagonist better and exercise your writing muscles? Want to absolutely make my day? I’d absolutely love to have you participate. The longer the list of participating blogs posted on Monday, the better.

Note: Those of you who don’t have blogs, but would like to participate anyway, can leave their challenge snippets in the comments on this post or the other.