Elspeth Cooper

Purveyor of fine fantasy adventures

Tag: Pratchett

The end is nigh

The end is at handWell, almost.  I was writing up a storm at the weekend, and racked up just shy of 5k words in 24 hours, breaking the symbolic 180k barrier.  A bit longer than I’d hoped, but never mind. I haven’t felt this energised about my writing in a looong time. This is A Good Thing.

Naturally I don’t want to tempt fate by pronouncing a deadline in public.  That would be, to quote Pterry, like standing on top of a hill during a thunderstorm, in copper armour, shouting “All gods are bastards!”

But let’s just say that a certain work-in-progress is reaching a conclusion.  The orchestra is tuning up, and in her dressing room the Fat Lady is performing her vocal exercises.

Stay tuned.

 

 

 

Socks discrimination

… or “Whose book is it anyway?” Part Two.

I was inspired to compose this post by a friend of mine, MM Bennetts, who feels not at all confident about writing female characters and was therefore somewhat stunned to find one had leapt, fully formed, like Athene from the brow of Zeus, onto the pages of her latest book.

This got me thinking.  I’ve never actually considered that I had any difficulty writing female characters.  I mean, I’m a girl.  It should be easy, n’est-ce pas?  I’ve got the inside track on how a woman thinks and feels, her motivations, her desires.  Surely it should be the Sons of Adam, rather than the Daughters of Eve, that I struggle with?

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Whose book is it anyway?

Terry Pratchett once said in an interview that you’ve got to keep an eye on your secondary characters, or they’ll take over the show.  Turn your back for five minutes and there they are, merrily rearranging the plot to suit themselves, the blighters, and generally making more work for the poor put-upon writer.

I thought I might avoid that with Trinity Moon, since I was working from a synopsis (a heretofore unheard-of event, I might add, which has proved helpful and frustrating in equal measure).  Everything’s chugging along nicely, and I come to an action scene where Gair throws a lock on Ne’er-do-well No. 1 and laying his sword across the fellow’s neck, threatens to cut his throat.

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A week is a long time in politics…

…but a fortnight is a bloody long time to keep your lip zipped when you’re sitting on astonishing news like this.

Lest I get too big-headed about this, I shall let theBookseller.com tell the story:

http://www.thebookseller.com/news/98263-gollancz-signs-new-fantasy-series.html

Yes, that’s me she’s talking about.  Little old me who’s been scribbling away for mumblety-mumble years on a rag-tag collection of reporters’ notebooks,  A4 pads and the backs of old envelopes.  Who wrote the first draft of the opening chapter twelve years ago in a haze of rage and pain, and who wrote the entire siege of Chapterhouse in one sitting (read the book and you’ll understand what a big deal that was; go on, read it!) and bawled her eyes out as she killed off one of her favourite characters because It Had To Be Done.

Me.

As Nanny Ogg said, “Well I’ll be mogadored!

 

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