Tag #fantasywriting

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #6

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello Everyone! It’s a steamy, tropical day here, perfect for sitting with my words (as long as the computer doesn’t frazzle out with humidity) and reminiscing. There is so much about Huphaea I wish I could share with you in reality, though I hope our story sessions do inspire happy emotions and active imaginations 😊. Stories are intrinsic to us as humans and provide a little refuge when it all gets ‘a bit crazy out there.’ I hope you are all well and safe 💛. Nightingales, look for a new issue of Collata in your inbox soon!

When we last left Elahna, she had just had her world rocked by the Madrigal Bluebird troup’s mind-blowing performances and some tavern ale… let’s see how she is feeling the next day…~

Town of Cragbend, Seat of Scion Arborea, House Gaiist

Morning found me wrapped in a soft blanket in a pavilion. The sounds of an active camp and smells of sausage and eggs floated around me. I sat up and felt the dull pound I expected in my head. Ugh. This was gonna suck. The tavern ale had hit like good-natured boxer—hard, but with a jolly laugh. I remembered laughing a lot, and oh, jeeeyyyz my body felt battered, I just hoped I hadn’t acted too much a fool. Right then, Raga stuck his head in the door and grinned.

Bluebird camp*

“Ah! You live! I’ll call Poet in, I can imagine you need her services.”

What did that mean? “Oh, ah, I’m good, thanks,” but my attempt to stand up betrayed me. He chuckled again.

Poet ducked inside and knelt beside me. “Here, let’s see if I can help some.” She put one hand on the front of my head and one on the back and started to hum in a low tone. When she stopped after a minute or so, the pounding had subsided into a tolerable ache.

I gazed at her in wonder. “How did you do that? Are you a healer too?”

Vitae works wonders…*

“No, not as such, it’s just another aspect of my singing ability. I use my voice to create, but I can also draw away with it. The bits I can’t fix some food will. Come on. We saved some for you.”

As we walked through camp, I noticed many of the others watching us overtly. I caught the word ‘Passer’ several times in whispered tones and my self-consciousness came rushing back. I didn’t belong here. I had to find a way home.

“There’s the Passer. Is she staying here?”*

Did I want to go home? Well, that was the REAL question. Kinda yes, and kinda no. I definitely wanted to know more about this land of Huphaea, its amazing people, the magic, dragons(!), but would I be welcome to?

Fife greeted me heartily and Tango hugged my legs. “Well, fla, unfortunately the Orderly isn’t here at the moment, though I’ll say your head seemed fine last night, if a bit ale-addled. You sure have some stories to tell and some strange words. Hopefully Raga let you sleep once you were tucked away in the pavilion, eh?” He waggled his eyebrows and winked at me.

I felt my face burn crimson. Oh god, I had no memory of even walking back to camp—and Raga wasn’t there to save me. Oh no, what did I do? Would Poet hate me? She didn’t seem to, but that could be a front until later. Ugh.

I passed the day helping where I could to be useful, to keep my mind off what might have happened that I didn’t remember.

The cartwrights had indeed set up a mobile workshop of sorts out by the wagons and were busy fitting new wheels, replacing axle shafts, applying grease to hubs, repairing cracks in the walls and floors, and there was even a painter. The last two individuals held my attention for a while. They were absorbed in their work, but the lack of tools and jars normally seen with menders and painters was glaring to me.

The mender was a bearded man in a red vest. He ran his long fingers over every inch of the wagon box to my left. When he detected some unseen anomaly, he stopped and placed his opposite hand into the bucket he carried with him. Something would flow, seemingly from the fingers of his first hand, onto the wood. When he was satisfied, he removed the hand from the bucket and continued pressing and smoothing the spot. It made me think of applying caulking or glue to a crack. When he moved away, a bright spot of new wood shone. The more I watched, the more it became obvious that he was drawing on the contents of the bucket to fill the cracks—but through his hands and body? I didn’t want to stare too long, but I was mesmerized. At that moment, the painter approached the wagon to my right.

“Elements be. Did you paint these coaches? They are astoundingly beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Elements be. Oh, I did not paint them originally, but I have worked on them several times when the Bluebirds are in Cragbend. They are lovely pieces. All of the Madrigal caravans are stunning.” The woman was young, with shorter, straight black hair woven into rows of braids that were pulled back from her face. Her highly pointed ears poked out between the rows and corralled numerous paint brushes. She carried a flat palette with a large dollop of white paint on it. Her smile was small, perhaps shy, but her lavender eyes radiated confidence and warmth. She wore a white sleeveless shirt and not a spot of color marred it.

“Forgive me for asking, but can you tell me what he is doing? It looks like he is repairing cracks, but I can’t see how.”

She grinned now, it was lopsided but full of openness. “He is repairing cracks, yes. See how he finds the weaknesses with one hand by touch, and then applies the sawdust in the bucket to it. His talent is transformative. The sawdust becomes a form he can work into the anomalies to re-strengthen them. They appear as new wood, then I come along and color them to match. I’m guessing you are the Passer everyone is talking about.”

“Oh, um, yes I am.” My eyes slid to the side, a bit embarrassed. Just then, she plucked a brush from an ear, dipped it into the white paint and touched up the design where the new wood gleamed. The paint brushed on in the exact colors necessary! My mouth fell open a bit and I drew a tiny sharp breath. She glanced back at me with that grin again.

white brushes leave color?*

“Creating color is my gift,” she said, before I could even splutter a question.

“But, how? How did you make something white into all those shades of blue just there? I don’t see any dyes or pigments on your board.”

“My talent is transformative, too. There is plenty of pigment all around us, in the form of light. It’s filled with color.”

“You use light? Like channeling it into the paint or something?” I didn’t care that I sounded like an idiot.

“Yes, very much like that! I see light and colors very differently when I invoke my talent. It allows me to see color in its parts so I can draw the light I need to create the exact colors.” She kept painting as she spoke, the strokes leaving color that blended perfectly with the surroundings.

“That’s amazing. Do others have that ability too?”

“Some, sure. There are others who are Herballs who have like ability, but they do work with the actual dyes and pigments in plants. Their work is best for garments and fabrics, candles, more softer materials. The coaches are always outside, so light-based color makes the most sense for their artwork. It’s constantly being refreshed that way.”

“Wow, I’m,… thank you. I don’t know what to say, there is nothing like that where I’m from. And this type of color makes so much more sense to me! Thank you for indulging my curiosity. I should get back and be useful. Enjoy your day! Elements be!” I raised my left palm and smiled as I turned away.

“Elements be, you’re welcome. Enjoy your stay.” She tipped her palette to me in goodbye and went back to embellishing wood with light.

I caught up with Fife next as I crossed the camp. He said he had spoken with Aymur Arborea last night about finding me some help to get home. I tried not to look too disappointed. He had been so generous, I didn’t want to be ungrateful, and I knew I couldn’t stay with the troupe as I had no talent to offer. I was going to miss them though.

The Bluebirds had been such a help to me over the past day—it was hard to believe I had only been in Huphaea for a day!

What was that? Oh, no, I never did get an answer that day from Raga about the night before. I lived with that question for quite a while, mind you. And Poet never said a word 🤷🏼‍♀️.

We’ll leave it here for today, the next post will take us to Rosewood Manor and the delights that await there!

What did you think about the mender’s and painter’s abilities? Amazing, right? Would you want to go home if you were in Elahna’s shoes? Leave a comment below and let us know!

Remember to subscribe to Collata, the Collection of Huphaea newsletter. The second issue will be out soon with some more exclusive content, from a youngster this time 😃. Hit the subscribe button below and become a Nightingale!

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*images other than Cragbend map from pxhere or unsplash as free for all use images

© 2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press. All rights reserved.

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #4

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hello all, Elements be! Hard to believe it’s been two weeks since I was here last, I hope the situations in your corner of the world are improving. Or that you are managing it as best you can 🙂. Let’s head back to Huphaea now, continue the adventure and forget about restrictions and pandemics for a bit. Ready?

We left off with the Bluebird troupe making their way toward Cragbend, and Elahna discovering she was in the company of Elves! They wanted to take her to an Orderly, and she wasn’t so sure about that…

leaving Venrood Forest behind…*

I spent the rest of the ride to Cragbend observing my new companions and surroundings. The Bluebird troupe numbered twenty and included four musicians, a bard (Fife), three singers (including Poet), two storytellers, a puppeteer, three players (Raga), and six children. They were not family per se, though some were related. My desire to know begged to ask a thousand questions, but I restrained them to whatever the topic at hand was.

Fife returned with a loose linen shirt in bright kelly green and gray leggings obviously made of a plant fiber, but as durable as doeskin. I was thrilled to discard my hot, waterproof hikers for soft but sturdy leather sandals adorned with colored metal rivets and hoops.

Winter to summer, boots to sandals all in one day?—if you know me, you know I was in heaven!

After the wardrobe change, I found it much easier to unwind. Just feeling like I was part of, instead of an outsider, even if it was only temporary, quelled my anxiety for a time. Raga explained that when we arrived at the Cleft Barrel, the troupe would see to the horses, arrange the wagons, and erect the sleeping pavilions first, before going in.

“I’d be happy to help wherever I can.”

“My thanks. We’ll work you in. Ah, there’s the town, there in the valley. Another erdur or so til we arrive.”

“Did you say ‘erdur’? Do you mean hour?”

“Oww-horr. What is that to you?”

The way he rolled the word ‘hour’ made me laugh and then stop, afraid of being rude, but he was laughing as well.

“It’s a unit of time, a larger unit. It’s made up of sixty smaller units.” Would he even know what sixty was?

“Yes, I think an erdur would be like an oww-horr.”

We continued our discussion about time, and even numbers, which thankfully we did share, but not the names of them. With the help of Tango, who was learning his numbers too, Raga and I established that decca equaled ten, so I could go from there in a Latin-esque fashion. Phew.

*

The caravan left the forest behind during that exchange and we traveled through long, sedate hills of farmsteads.

farmsteads on the way to Cragbend*

Well off to the left, a long arm of the forest curled around and ended in a massive stand of trees. Those trees stood tens of feet above any others; they reminded me of the faux cellphone tower trees along the highways. But I was pretty sure these were not artificial. Smoke trails puffed from the stand in three dark ribbons.

“Is that forest on fire?” I pointed, getting a bit nervous.

“What? Oh, no. That’s Rosewood, the Arborea Seat. See how the trees are so much larger? The Arborea scion has tree magic, and their Seat shows their capabilities. It’s one of my favorite Seats to visit in all of Huphaea. Wait til you see it!” Raga’s enthusiasm was palpable, and Tango started clapping again. Poet joined us on the bench.

“I’ll be glad to get out of this wagon, for sure.” she said. “I agree. Rosewood is spectacular. They say the building was built long ago like any other, but Arboreans have infused the wood and the trees with so much of their vitae over the generations that the two are indistinguishable. They live IN the trees. And it’s always changing. It’s never the same as when we were here last.”

“What do you mean by vitae? I mean, I know a word like that, but what does it mean here?”

My heart started beating a bit faster- portals, elves and now magic tree houses?

vitae streams*

“Vitae is the energy that flows through Huphaea, and in the Elemental Families, it gives them their abilities. Well, and us Madrigals, too.”

“And the dragons and the other First Ones.” Raga added.

I know my face fell—he did just say dragons. Both Poet and Raga laughed, and Tango joined in. “Dragons? Like how big? Dragons?” I stammered.

Fife reined back at all the noise, reaching for Tango as he drew alongside. “What’s all the crac about back here? Are they havin’ a go at you, fla?” Tango stood on the saddle swell, encircled in one of Fife’s huge arms, grinning like he owned the world.

“They just said there are dragons here. Is that true?”

“Ha Ha! Of course it is! We don’t generally see them up close, unless you go seek one out, and you’d better have a consarned good reason to do that. But there’re plenty here. You don’t have dragons, I’m guessing?” His amusement was only a bit less restrained than the other two.

“Only in books. They’re a really popular subject. A lot of people think it would be cool to have one.”

“Have one? Oh, fla, you don’t HAVE a dragon. Dragons have Riders, they are about the only ones the Great Ones allow around them. You can seek them for a piece of knowledge, if you’re desperate, or for the Scholar’s Final Telling, but they are best left to themselves. They find us when the Balance needs us.”

“Oh. I see.” I had to let that sink in. Dragons.

Yeah, dragons! You can imagine my mind was pretty much on overload at this point. I just sat back and watched the landscape pass for a while. Cragbend was visible up ahead and I still had a night to get through. What else would I encounter in this day?

I’ll leave off here for now, before we make it into Cragbend. That will be next time. See you then!~

What would you be thinking now if you were in Elahna’s place? Drop a comment below for Eleanorah, let us know!~

If you’d like exclusive snips from Eleanorah’s story, subscribe to Collata, The Collection of Huphaea newsletter. The current issue will have an introduction to the Known Trees of Huphaea. Don’t miss it! Become a Nightingale!~

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*Photo credits to pxhere, Unsplash, and Canva.

Copyright © 2020 Eleanorah Starr and Quill & Orb Press, All Rights Reserved

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830 #3

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Hi Folks, welcome back! I hope you are all staying safe and making the best of the twists and turns the world is throwing at us. I’m glad you came by here briefly to hear the story about my time in Huphaea. I’m happy to help bring a little smile to your day 😊, I hope.

When we last left Elahna, she had just met a group of travelers in a forest, on the way to a town called Cragbend…

the road through Venrood Forest…

“Cragbend?”

“Sure, the town’s up ahead, that’s where we’re headed. You’re in the Venrood Forest, where did you think you were?”

“I have no idea. I’m not from here.” (Oh shit, probably shouldn’t have said that). “I mean, I just don’t know where I am.”

He was peering at me more closely now, no doubt noticing my strange clothing. “As you said. Well, hey— Raga! Hold a moment! We’ll take this one into town with us. She’s had a long go of it, by the looks.” One of the wagons slowed at his call and the driver turned in his seat. “I’m Fife, donjar of the Bluebird troupe you see here. We can at least get you to town, so you can start finding your folk.” He smiled and waved toward the stopped wagon. “Just hop up there aside Raga, he won’t bite, though Poet might! Ha ha!”

Fife’s easy jocularity put me at ease, and Raga was no different. I climbed up onto the driving seat, stuffing my bundle of long underwear and coat underneath.

Raga raised his left hand, palm out, and said “Elements be, well met. I’m Raga, as you know. Poet is in back there with her and my son Tango. Did someone leave you out here?” I noted the humor in Raga’s tone, perhaps this was a common occurrence.

“Ah, no. I just…”

Fife reined in alongside the wagon as we started to move again, clearly interested in what I had to say. Being eye level now, I got a better look at him. His pleasant broad face reflected curiosity, but his marbled blue and green eyes were intent and observant. Long, dark hair was bound at his neck and a leather thong held a large, cerulean blue, teardrop-shaped pendant just below his throat.

“It’s gonna sound really stupid, but I arrived here somehow. I don’t know how. Please, what state are we in, or what country?”

“Hmmm, well now, I’m not sure what a ‘state’ is, but the country is Eflary. These are House Gaiist lands, and we are headed to Cragbend, the Seat of the Arborea scion. What’s your name, Fla?”

I didn’t know what ‘Fla’ was, but Fife made it sound nice, and not threatening.

“Elahna. Elahna Starr.” I made a last second decision to shorten my first name. If I was in a new place, why not have a new name? I had always wanted a nickname, and Elahna was easier to say. They all seemed to have short names, so it made sense in that moment. I didn’t regret the choice.

“Oh, Starr! Are you from Astros, Solarelle or Lunad lands, then?” Fife leaned forward a bit to look at the side of my head, at my ear, maybe? ”Or maybe Zenidd or Fairmoon is a better guess?”

That was when I noticed his ears formed a graceful point at the top. Woah! No way, an elf?

I know my eyes widened, though I tried to keep them steady.

He recoiled a bit, thinking I was offended, and held up his palm, “I’m sorry, Helican, then? Though Starr would certainly have one think Fairmoon, but you see all kinds.” He chuckled trying to recover. “Do you know what lands you hail from, at least?”

I took a quick look at Raga, and there too! Poking out from his wavy russet hair, his ears were pointed, though not as sharply as Fife’s. His eyes were an ochre brown and his face was finer in structure, but still smiling. He quirked the side of his mouth a bit more at me, and I turned away, embarrassed. This was getting crazy, now I was in the company of elves?

“It’s fine, Fla, you don’t need to tell us if you don’t want to. Do you have the coin to get yourself back home, though? The Zenidd lands are several days ride from here, at least.” Fife’s voice held some concern, while my angst continued to grow.

“No, I, –I only have my clothes and this bundle of heavier clothes. I, –what am I gonna do when we get to town? I fell through some kind of portal and ended up in a stone chamber back there in the woods. I tried to go back through, but nothing happened. So I have no way to pay for anything… and nowhere to go.” The words tumbled out in a flood and I noticed the din of conversation around us had died, most likely in response to the rising pitch of my voice. Reality settled around me like a cloak.

But still, was this real?

A firm, but gentle hand rested on my forearm. I turned and was met by a stunning, heart-shaped face framed by white-blonde hair. The intermittent lavender braids made her blue and green eyes stand out all the more. They were the same eyes as Fife’s.

“Don’t worry, Fla. You can stay among us for the night, and tomorrow we can figure out what to do. We have most of the day before we are due at Rosewood to perform in the evening.” She smiled, but I was entranced by her melodic voice. Poet. That was the only word for her.

“I’m Poet. Fife won’t leave you berift, will you, Donjar? You can see our show tonight at the Cleft Barrel. The food is excellent and it’s always a right show.” She squeezed my arm a bit, and the small, ruddy-cheeked boy in her lap clapped his hands and laughed. He had hair more coppery than Raga but with the same rounder face, finely pointed ears that almost curled back into themselves at the tips, and dark blue eyes marbled with amber instead. He grinned at me, never taking his eyes from my face. This child was NOT shy.

“Of course you will stay with us.” Fife’s deep voice broke my wordless exchange with Tango. “We have plenty of room, no one will know you aren’t part of the troupe. Well, except for those clothes… Let me see if some of the other girls have extras you can borrow ’til tomorrow. There’s more to you than Poet. Maybe we can find an Orderly as well, sort you out straight.” He touched his horse’s neck and they moved on ahead toward the other members of the troupe.

I sat a bit more upright. An Orderly? That didn’t sound so good to me, though he spoke as if it was nothing. “What’s an Orderly?”

But I didn’t get an answer.

God, yes! My mind WAS freaking out. But all of the troupe members were so unconcerned and jovial, I couldn’t help but relax also. It’s hard to be uptight when everyone around you is laughing and talking.

This is a great place to break for today, next time we will make it into Cragbend, and see if Elahna meets an Orderly… Thank you for stopping by, I will see you soon!

Don’t forget to leave a comment about the story so far, how would you feel being in a strange land?

Remember to subscribe to Collata, Eleanorah Starr’s newsletter about The Collection of Huphaea. You will get exclusive outtakes and info about the adventure, become a Nightingale!

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Re-blogging ‘Cause Writers Love Scrivener ❤🖋📝 ———————————-Scrivener Quick Tips: A Roundup of Handy Features — Writer Unboxed

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener 1 Comment

Hope everyone is staying safe and making the best of the challenging situation we are facing. You can find the full article on Writer Unboxed by following the link below, ’cause who can’t use a Scrivener refresher? I’m taking a mini-course this afternoon myself!

Do you use Scrivener when you write? Do you like it, love it, feel vulnerable when you use it? Let me know in the comments below. I’m in the 🧡🧡🧡🧡 category myself 🥰.

Stop by later for the next installment in Eleanorah Starr’s Collection of Huphaea post series, you won’t want to miss it!

Whether your home office has been invaded and you have little time to write, or you suddenly find yourself with nothing but writing time, I’ve pulled together a motley collection of handy features that every Scrivener user should know about. NOTE: When the process differs between versions, I’m using S1, S2, and S3, to denote…

Scrivener Quick Tips: A Roundup of Handy Features — Writer Unboxed

The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830. #2

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Moss and Color

When we left off, Eleanorah had just stepped into the ancient monolith on that early spring day in Vermont. Check out episode #1 if you want to refresh your memory…

But then there was a tiny, framed window opposite me with the sun streaming in.

Wait, what? I turned a quick circle and saw lush, green moss covering the rocks in the doorway. There hadn’t been any moss by the door, it was too early for moss to be green in Vermont. And why is the doorway round now…

I stood frozen to the spot, only my eyes moved around the space I was in. This wasn’t the same chamber I had stepped into.

I dropped into a protective crouch, looking about wildly. Thankfully, I was alone in the tiny room. Then I started becoming aware of the environment. It smelled green and moist, like moss and deep leaf litter. The air was quite warm, far warmer than March in Vermont, and the colors I could see outside the door were more vibrant than I was used to, even in high summer. I heard a rushing noise also, perhaps water of some sort. My curiosity began to grow, but if I moved, would I be able to get back here?

I stood up and stepped one foot in a circle around the spot I had landed on, trying to trigger a return trip, but nothing worked.

Omg, where was I?

With that thought, curiosity won and I left the chamber. Greens in shades out of a painter’s color book assaulted my eyes and they started to burn with the intensity. I wished I had brought my sunglasses, yes, it was that vivid.

A fallen tree that had succumbed to the moss carpet pointed in the direction of the water noise, so I headed that way. The stream I found rambled through a rocky bed. I couldn’t resist touching the water, it was so crystal clear. Each time I dipped my hands in, for suddenly I was quite thirsty, I got pricked, as if by a thorn or a needle, though I couldn’t see anything there to touch. It was very strange. But the water was cool and sweet, so I had my fill and crossed the stream on a few rocks and headed down a hill.

I wondered what direction I was heading in and reached for my phone for the compass app.

But there was no phone. No Fitbit on my wrist either.

It was starting to feel like some of the fantasy stories I love to read. Portals to another land, technology can’t make the trip.

What was going to be next? Elves? Forest spirits? Dragons? (Actually, I did learn later it was water sprites who had pricked me in the stream, I must have offended them somehow, but how was I to know? I couldn’t see them.)

I kept walking through the forest since it was the only thing I could do. Most of the tree species looked familiar, but at one point I entered a clearing with a huge, silvery-white barked tree in the center. It was magnificent, taller and with a canopy broader than any of the grand beech trees I knew. The trunk width rivaled a redwood (and yes, I have seen the giant redwoods). The canopy traced a perfect circle and the rest of the forest began just at its edge, almost forming an enclosed, round room.

I could only imagine it was some kind of sacred tree and place, so I didn’t linger long. Scenarios of being killed for treading on sacred ground started playing in my mind and I decided it was best to go.

Eventually I came to a road, a wide dirt road, that is. I decided to go left. The road was well-used with evidence of horses everywhere. The colors of the land still astounded me-rich, multi-layered browns, stark grays, and those vibrant greens. Everything thrummed with energy and vitality, even the air. And I was still under cover of the forest, I hadn’t seen the actual sun yet, though I could feel it.

I was waaaaay overdressed.

Photo by LaNuez07 from PxHere

I don’t know how long I walked for, but by the time the end of the forest came into view, it appeared evening was falling. I thought it best to make some sort of camp not far from the road, and was scouting for something shelter-like when I heard hoofbeats and wooden wagon wheels approaching from behind me. A group of riders trotted past, followed by several large wagons with brightly colored canvas tops.

I had stopped and moved off the road a bit, but I kind of wanted to be seen to try to determine where I was. Would I even be able to communicate with people here?

“Woaaah there, Strider. Hallo.” A man in a deep blue shirt slowed his horse and drifted toward me. “Are you here alone?”

Oh thank God, he spoke English! “Um, yes. Where is here, exactly?”

“You don’t know where you are? Oh, that must have been a consarned good night then!” He slapped his thigh as he laughed at me. “Well how did you get here? It’s a good distance to Cragbend, should have sobered you up just walkin’, never mind whatever else you did!”

“Cragbend?”

Who are these strangers, and what awaits in Cragbend? Stay tuned for the next post to find out! Let me know what you think happens next in the comments below. Elements be ! ✋~

If you would like to follow the tale of Eleanorah’s adventure as soon as it comes out, and get some bonus content about Ereth and Huphaea, subscribe to Collata, The Collection of Huphaea Newsletter here:

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The Great Collection of the Elemental Families of Huphaea, anid 1830. #1

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener 2 Comments

told by Eleanorah Starr

Trespassing

Up a hillside off a dirt road…
Photo by form PxHere

I stumbled into the world of Ereth by accident. Completely by accident.

I left my mountain bike around the backside of a copse of spruce trees where it would be hidden, since my search involved trespassing. And though I didn’t expect to be there long, I preferred to avoid disgruntled property owners. The hillside sloped upward ahead of me, dotted with other evergreens I could use to hide from the few cars that might drive by while I was visible. The noisy, early-spring gravel road would warn me anyway.

Oh, I’m sorry, I thought I had mentioned that before. I was in Vermont, mid-Vermont I guess you would say, searching for a megalith site I read about online. I had visited some megaliths during my time in Ireland many years ago, and they were fascinating; so full of history and energy.

That winter had been a long, cold, icy affair and I needed an adventure. So I headed north to investigate what I had read.

No, this site wasn’t like Stonehenge, or Newgrange, but it was reported to have some similar components: a stacked stone structure built into a hillside, a calendar chamber that admitted light on the winter equinox, and a menhir stone.

(Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash)

I headed up the hillside hoping I had chosen the right location.

Photo by form PxHere

After about ten minutes of hiking and marking my trail for the return, I came upon a tall, jagged, triangular-shaped stone encircled by large maple trees. Gnarled, weathered roots crawled and stretched toward the stone creating a ray-like sculpture on the ground. As I stepped between the trunks, a humming vibration danced along my skin, raising the hair on my neck.

(Photo by form PxHere)

It was as if the trees were protecting the menhir.

Crossing the lumpy ground to the stone, I reached out to touch the gouged surface. It felt warm. Wait—how? There was no sun, it was a cloudy day.

Something rustled behind me. Startled, I lurched on the roots underfoot, trying not to twist an ankle. I leaned onto the nearest trunk for stability and cover. Later I recalled the tree was warm too, but I was too spooked to acknowledge it then. I peered around in the direction of the noise and there was the stone chamber.

It looked ancient. The dry-laid rock walls framed a typical megalith doorway of three much larger, flat rectangular stones. I stopped several paces from the structure, thoughts racing through my head—

How old is this?

Who built it?

This is amazing, I can’t believe I found it!

Do I dare go inside?

Trees grew all over the top of the chamber, nestling it further into the hillside and the forest. I decided to go in. I only had this one opportunity, most likely. About three paces from the door, the humming started again, this time more in my head. My skin tingled and I recalled that feeling I had at the sites in Ireland. I passed under the lintel into an earthy, warm interior.

Well of course it would be, I was out of the chilly wind.

What was in that ancient chamber? Let me know what you think is there in the comments below. Then look for my next post this weekend!

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#SundaySpotlight: A New Journey Begins…

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

The Great Collection of Huphaea, anid 1830 told by Eleanorah Starr

I have time to tell my story, if you have time to listen…

It seems like some Entity flipped a switch and the world went haywire, doesn’t it? Being an introvert, I am well-practiced at working from home, and just plain being alone most of the day, so the #socialdistancing and #physicaldistancing isn’t taking a toll on me. It’s when I actually DO have to venture out and gather supplies, and therefore interact with the masses, that takes the toll. Once I step into the space of a hive mindset, I am finding it incredibly difficult not to succumb to the panic, even with a list to stick to. Then I get home and lose my sh*#.

It just makes me think more and more about the story I am slowly starting to write. About going to another world completely. How cool that would be right about now?

I have done an awful lot of worldbuilding over the last year, preparing to write a first draft. At a certain point I realized I had so much backstory to do with my world that it was going to be impossible to fit it into the series without potentially boring readers to death. (Personally I love that stuff, but I get that it’s not really cool. And of course, ‘minimize the exposition’ is generally the rule.) Some of it I can work in artfully, but much of it, no.

About that time, I stumbled upon a couple of fellow bloggers who were taking a different approach to storytelling- telling their tales, introducing their characters and worlds post-by-post. This really got me thinking, and so I have to credit The Storyteller at Brother’s Campfire and Charles Yallowicz at Legends of Windemere for planting the seed of this idea. Follow the links to their blogs if you are curious about their sagas- dark fantasy and paranormal with vampires, respectively.

Starting this coming week, Eleanorah Starr will be ‘guesting’ here on Thursdays, telling her tale about the world of Ereth; an alternate world to Earth that she literally stumbled into. She hopes to be by weekly, but more likely it will be every other week. Some installments may include maps, and some may have audio recordings of her storytelling. Ereth is a world filled with magic, dragons, elves, humans, and Sentient animals, especially the continent of Huphaea, where she spent her time. You will hear about and get to know the thirty-six Elemental Families of Huphaea, and the land itself as Eleanorah relates her journey on the Great Collection of the Elemental Families, anid 1830. #CollectionofHuphaea will hold the chronicles, along with this blog.

If you’d like to be notified of when Eleanorah posts, you can follow this link to subscribe to the newsletter, or follow this blog. She has told me that she plans to offer some bonus content to her newsletter subscribers as well, all leading in the future to the novel about Huphaea and the triad of individuals responsible for its balance. If her story is half as compelling as it seems, we will all be looking for portals to Ereth! Come on, join the adventure!

Subscribe to the Collection of Huphaea newsletter here!

Down the Rabbit Hole — The Beauty and Value of Inkarnate Map Creation Software.

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener 4 Comments

Oh my, where do I start?

I stumbled upon Inkarnate one day when I was doing an internet search for mapmaking options. I already had the map for my fantasy land on a plain piece of white paper, but I wanted it to look authentic—with landforms, oceans, forests, roads, and settlements delineated and in color if possible. There is nothing I like more than opening up a fantasy book cover and seeing an interesting MAP.

As you can see, it was horribly boring, and woefully underwhelming.

Initially, when I opened up Inkarnate (free-version), I was thrilled! Here was a design tool where I didn’t feel like a non-artist (as I am). There was a picture in my mind of a coastline present to the northwest of my central land, and I couldn’t draw it correctly at ALL (ugh). Suddenly with Inkarnate, I could make things appear as I wanted; the maps were not pre-generated like other internet sites I had dabbled with.

I bet you can guess what happened next…

Yeah, before I knew it, it was dark outside and the dogs needed feeding… but I had a NEW MAP!

a couple hours later… the first version of Iacewen

I was so pleased with the result that I decided to take the time and attempt to transfer (freehand) my plain map into Inkarnate. But… I wasn’t so confident about my ability drawing with the mouse. On a whim, I emailed the Inkarnate support team and asked if a scanned document could be imported and modified. And I HOPED against hope that it was.

To my great delight, the answer came back YES with details on how to make it happen! On the next opportunity, I uploaded my bland map, and after several sessions, came out with:

Huphaea: first run

The political lines, roads, rivers and water bodies took time to outline, but I was able to follow my faint lines on the uploaded copy, thankfully. It was really the shading built into the ocean and land textures that made it come alive, though. I was pretty pleased. The icons available in the free version were great, but the pro version held many more choices. After a bit of thinking, I opted to pay the modest yearly price and upgraded to the pro version for the greater variety.

A bit before Christmas, Inkarnate introduced a beta HD version of their new pro upgrade, and I signed up immediately. Once I opened my maps again, the difference was HUGE!

current map of Iacewen under Inkarnate Pro beta HD
current map of Huphaea under Inkarnate Pro beta HD

As you can see in the Iacewen map, the icons are FAR more advanced in design, color, and features (volcanoes, snow on the mountains, etc.) The trees are grouped into species, and there are several forms of each to choose from or rotate through to create realistic forests. Every feature can be resized on a 1-100 gradient depending on the scale of your map. These here are in the 25 and less range because my map is large on distance.

The addition of a shadow feature creates depth in any place you enable it, and I have seen some incredibly detailed shorelines other users have made. Along with that, the amount of different stamps in common fantasy categories (elves, orcs, human, goblin, etc) make it possible to create incredibly detailed cities on a very visible scale. Role players have produced some amazing creations, check out the Inkarnate reddit if you are interested in the possibilities.

Two of the better features, I think, are the SAVE reminder and the Path tool. I was happily editing along, and this box popped up in the lower left corner, telling me I had made over 60 edits and it was time to save — wa-wa-wwhhaaatt? Where is that feature in everything else? And you can bet I saved immediately!

The Path tool came a bit too late for me initially, but I was delighted to be able to go back and apply it to my solid road lines. It changed them to a dotted string, and the map came to life! The roads suddenly looked like thoroughfares even without a key. The map started to look like something I would see covering the inside cover of a novel. There are even beautiful scroll-work edges and parchment-like borders you can add to your creation so that it resembles a weather-beaten map.

The differences aren’t as visible on the second Huphaea map, but I notice it in the depth of the land textures. I have quite a bit more to do; undoubtedly I will continue to amend as I go.

If you are an author (especially of fantasy) enmeshed in worldbuilding, or an RPGer, hop on over to Inkarnate and play around for a few minutes, then tell me you aren’t hooked. I highly recommend Inkarnate for anything you need to map out, even if it’s only to keep it straight in your head while you write. Sorry about the rabbit hole, though…

sorry, not sorry…

On second thought, nope, I’m not. Happy mapping!~

What have you used to map your world? Have you made a physical copy, or prefer to keep it in your head? Leave a comment below, I’d love to know your thoughts about maps and creating them!~

Books on My Desk

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener Leave a comment

Good Monday morning All! I can honestly say that it is a good Monday morning so far — looking out my office window into bright sunshine on new snow, I am happy to be sitting at my desk enjoying 15°F on this side of the wall. I still have to walk the dogs, but they are happier if it is closer to 20° too.

This past week proved to be productive in the reading department, so I thought I would share a couple of craft books that ensnared me.

Three of the many in my TBR or already read piles…

The first one I read was Verbalize, and if you notice all the mini Post-Its sticking out of it, you can conclude that I found it helpful. IMMENSELY helpful! I had heard interviews with author Damon Suede on several podcasts and everything he said about writing from verbs made complete sense, so I had to check it out. I have been in the process of outlining my fantasy novel for a bit now, but it never felt quite right. I just kept thinking that I wasn’t ready for that step yet, that I was still missing something as related to characters and events. So when I started reading Verbalize, I realized, YEAH I sure am missing something — the reasons why my characters are taking this journey and the actions that motivate them. Don’t get me wrong, I had some idea, but nothing I could sustain for very long when trying to plot. After a reading the book and then completing a few of the exercises, I now feel much better about what actually moves and shakes these individuals.

The other two books in the photo were both highly recommended in Verbalize, so I decided to borrow them from my library system first (yes, I am one of those people who still LOVES to use my library), to see if I should/needed to/wanted to purchase them for permanent reference. I’m over halfway through Wired for Story, and I can say that yes, I do believe I will be purchasing it; it is most worthy of mini Post-its and highlighter treatment. Lisa Cron’s book uses many of the same principles as Suede’s, but approaches it from a ‘how-the-brain-works’ perspective. So far it has been entertaining reading, and very instructive in defining the theme characters take action on, whether they know it or not.

I haven’t actually gotten to Vex, Hex, Smash, Smooch yet, but if it is anywhere in the same vein as the other two, it will also be a solid read. I will post an update as I get into this book, which should be soon (cause it isn’t mine either… yet). Praise to the renewable library loan!

If you hadn’t surmised as such, I am a consummate planner when it comes to writing, and that goes back to the first research paper I wrote in sixth grade — I can still see all my note cards and how they corresponded to my outline, with each piece of information, so that all I had to do was connect them all together with the right words and it was done. That lack of confidence I had every time I sat down to outline was what spurred me to to delve into what I was missing. After a book and a half, I already have a much better handle on the foundation elements of my story. How to work with and refine them to draw the tale, length by length, from the tangled ball of yarn that it is in my imagination. I am so very glad that I read (am reading) these books before lots of words hit the page, but honestly, being a planner, the words wouldn’t have come anyway. Cause now I know there was nowhere for them to come from. HA ha!! <evil villain laugh, with finger in the air> Now the outline begins! ~

What craft books have you read that helped you as a writer? Any that changed your whole outlook or approach? Leave a comment below on writing books that you love to recommend. Til next time, happy writing!~

PS. If you haven’t heard about it yet, there is an extension for Google’s Chrome web browser that checks your local library system for a book whenever you query one online. It’s an EXCELLENT tool, I highly recommend it! Then if you like a book, you can always support the author and buy it for yourself. Win-win!

The Power in a Name

aimeredleaf, The Narrative Gardener 2 Comments

When I pick up a book to read the inner jacket or back cover hook, or if I’m scanning Amazon, Goodreads, Book Sirens, Book Barbarians, any of the myriad places I get my reading material, one of the first things I notice is the name of the protagonist.

What IS in a name?

If I like that particular combination of letters, it ticks a mental box and I am more likely to read on. It doesn’t mean if I don’t like what I see that I won’t investigate further, but I am more likely to continue if I do.

Is that a shallow initial evaluation? Perhaps, but to me it is not. Names have always been a very important and fascinating topic I have explored. It may be some carryover from having a longer, complicated Polish birth surname that was challenging for a four-year-old to learn how to spell. And then add in that my not-unusual first name has an unusual spelling, I have been correcting people from day one. Ugh, <eye rolls>. So maybe then it is all my parents’ fault, but I’m honestly not looking to place blame for something I find fascinating.

My three dogs ( l-r) Dash, Nyssa, and Tristan

So much so, that after I chose Dash for my most recent Aussie boy, and he absorbed the energy of the word 100%, I have kept Zen in the forefront of my mind for the next one… one can hope, right?

Once I was aware enough to make the connection between our mother cows and calves, I made myself responsible for remembering who-went-with-who and their names. Names were chosen for any number of reasons, but never just arbitrarily. There was always a meaning, time period, or reference that inspired the choice. We even had twins born one winter on the day of the Super Bowl that gave us Raider and Redskin. My dogs are no different, it is a part of welcoming a new family member that I take very seriously.

I could fill this room with names…

It should come as no surprise then if I say that one of the reasons I want to write a fantasy novel is that I want to NAME characters, countries, cities, castles, forests, lakes—all of it! And through the naming, each person, creature, and location becomes real to me; in my mind and on paper (or screen) they now have an existence and can be interacted with. One of the most fulfilling blocks of time I spent two weeks ago was naming all 54 of the cities/towns and their House Seats of the family scion that resides there.

Yeah, I said that—54 scion residences and 54 cities or towns. 108 names, and I loved every single minute of it over the three days it took me. Is that excessive? Possibly, but its part of my world building and though I don’t know when I will write any of them in, they are in existence waiting to be deployed. These locations give some structure to my world; physical destinations I can make things happen in, talk about in dialogue, and use as landmarks.

The power in a name, I believe, comes from the interaction of the energy of the word with our own energy. At our most fundamental state, we are beings of energy, and energy flows in waves like sound, or light, or as depicted by the ripples in this pond. A word is a series of sounds (energy waves) made by our vocal cords. The waves interact with those comprising ourselves each time they are spoken (and perhaps even on a really infinitesimal level, thought) enhancing, nullifying, and interfering according to their amplitude, wavelength, and frequency. That energy becomes part of us, at least it makes sense to me that it does.

Take my dog Dash as an example. I chose that word, that verb actually, for his name thinking I would return to training dog agility and compete with him, and for the boy in The Incredibles, one of my favorite movies. I wanted something short, catchy, distinctive in sound that embodied quickness and speed. We never got to the agility due to an injury, but he still spends his days zipping around the yard, under his Akita sister, bouncing off her as they play, careening after squirrels at the very end of his leash, and making himself disappear under the trundle when I go out for an evening. He dashes everywhere, his legs take him distances in negative amounts of time it seems. Every time I call his name a blur of red fur appears, wiggles, smiles, but never stops moving. He is Dash- the energy of the word, the meaning, the embodiment of the sound. Now I’m sure somewhere there is a Dash who lazes around on the couch, but my experience has been the opposite. So I dare you, name something Trek and see if you spend your days eating bon-bons in front of the TV together. My money’s on NO…

Consequently then, when I read the blurb of a book and encounter the character’s name, I am interacting with the energy of the word. If it is an energy that resonates positively, if it rolls off the tongue easily (I actually do read aloud quite a lot), if the squiggles of the letters look good on the page, I will continue my perusal. I am investing my time as a reader, after all, so I want to be able to pay attention and not be distracted by a name I can’t pronounce for however-many-hundred pages. That said, if it is included in the book, you can bet I will use the glossary and/or pronunciation guide. I am a BIG fan of those add-ins (can you tell I read A LOT of fantasy?) Give me some energy to work with from the outset and I’m all in. Names DO have power. ~

Do you experience names in a similar manner? What energy do the names your characters, or some of your favorite characters, contain? How do you come up with names in your works? I’d love to hear your thoughts, drop me a comment below. Until next time, write on! ~