#TeaserTuesday: Golden Eagle

In case you didn't see it on social media over the weekend, I finished Golden Eagle! I'm thrilled to be finished, but even more, I'm thrilled with the novel itself. I love the way this series allows me to keep exploring these characters as we go along, digging deeper on each chapter, exploring such a wide variety of themes. 

The book is set to release in late December - currently trying to get the KDP website to cooperate and let me order some proof copies. But for now, here's an extra-big teaser: chapter 26.

26

Sasha dreamed of the clearing.

A carpet of snow, and the reaching fingers of bare trees, and ravens, high and silent in the white-gray sky. It was the forest north of Stalingrad, where Rasputin had died.

Endings, Part One - #WorkShopWednesday

Since #RewriteaTVorMovieEnding is currently trending on Twitter, and I'm in the process of writing the ending of my current WIP - Golden Eagle - today seems like a good day to talk about story endings. 

Beginnings are rife with possibility, but endings are the linch pins. Fail to stick the landing, and the wheels can come off the whole thing. Writing the conclusion - climax and denouement - of a novel always leave me anxious, Golden Eagle especially, it turns out, if my level of constant nausea is anything to go by. I'm anxious by nature, but, generally, I'm over-anxious about writing endings, and past results prove that I shouldn't be. Because here's the thing about endings, the constant truth.

Someone's always going to be disappointed. 

Nobody Likes a Goodbye

Goodbyes are always hard, and the longer your story's been around, the harder the goodbye is going to be. There's pressure associated with the proper wrap-up of any tale, but a six-episode limited miniseries has way less viewer pressure than a series that's been running regularly for years. Viewers - and readers, too, because this applies to books as well - have grown to love and care for the characters, and aren't ready to relinquish them. These regular adventures have become bright spots in the lives of the audience members, and knowing it's all drawing to a final close creates a kind of mourning; like sending a dear friend off to another country for good. 

This anxiety from the audience creates a similar anxiety in the content creators, and they want very badly to get it right. For the audience to walk away singing praises. 

But I think there's a disconnect, at times, between the two parties. 

The current school of thought in the film/TV industry seems to be this: that a shocking, unexpected ending - the one nobody could have predicted - is the best ending. No one saw it coming, therefore the writers must be very clever to have dreamed it up, therefore it's a quality ending. But...is this automatically true? While some shocking twists are brilliant, many more are a case of creators bending, twisting, and viciously manipulating the narrative in ways designed to make the audience feel blindsided. In the age of social media, in which creators have access to fans' discussions and predictions online, sometimes it feels like it becomes a creator's goal to pen an ending that no one is expecting, even if the expected ending would have been pleasing to the audience - and this usually requires a rewriting or breaking-down of our characters. 

I would argue that big, OMG shock endings work best for, one, standalone films and miniseries, and, two, for particular genres, like horror or thriller. I expect Stephen King to shock and horrify me - that's part of the fun of it. But, looking at it purely from an adrenal response level, I couldn't spend ten years watching a weekly show full of Stephen King-level shocks and horrors. 

One of my favorite movie twists - and this is an old one, at this point - is that of The Sixth Sense. I love that, though we aren't expecting to learn that - spoiler alert - Bruce Willis's character has been dead the whole time, we can look back on the film and find all the little clues that we wrote off as coincidence. Shocking, sure, but it makes sense. There were breadcrumbs all along. The point of that film is the shock, and the whole of it works toward delivering it in the most effective way. Horrors and thrillers are trying to scare, shock, stun you; they're crafted that way.

Conversely, I would argue that romances, good-natured action flicks, superhero movies, and family dramas are designed to delight and excite. We know there will be a happy ending: the world will be saved, the lovers will kiss in an airport, and everyone learned valuable lessons about love, tolerance, and working together. The endings aren't EVER surprising - but that's not the joy of watching that kind of entertainment. Those stories are all about the journey, rather than the outcome. They're character-focused, rather than plot-driven. 

Blending genres is fine - I think it's welcome - but it's important to understand your audience. We expect to be shocked - negatively, traumatically - watching horror/thriller/crime shows. We don't expect that to be the case with romance/superhero/family drama. 

Expectation is important. Hamlet is a tragedy, and you're prepared for it. We know Hamlet is doomed from the first - it's right there in the playbill - but there's a beauty to his struggle. 

But if a main character in your charming sitcom dies in the final episode, nobody asked for that.

In this respect, I think it's far preferable to leave some viewers a little bored or underwhelmed, than it is to leave devoted fans dismayed and angry, just so you can say you shocked them. 

So. How do you avoid the latter? This is my approach:

1. Keep your characters consistent until the end

2. Make it make sense

3. If something has to give, always have the plot yield to the needs of character development

Before I know the plot points of a novel, I know what sort of growth needs to happen for each character, and the plot ebbs and flows as needed around them. Because I'm writing character-driven family dramas, the needs of the characters far outweigh the needs of the plot. Sometimes, cool ideas have to be axed, but I'd much rather do it that way than destroy a character's progress. 

Tomorrow - or whichever day I get to it - I plan to continue with a part two of this post, in which I look at a few specific examples of endings that were mentioned frequently in the Twitter hashtag. All in fun and in the name of learning from other fiction. Stay tuned! 

#TeaserTuesday: 10/15/19

It's Teaser Tuesday, and you guys didn't let me down with the requests yesterday on Instagram. I had requests for Nik/Sasha, Trina, Alexei or Jamie, and Vlad, and I've got two chunks of raw text for you. The first has all our New York crew in it, and the second is Val and Vlad. I can't wait for you guys to read this book! It's been such a fun one. 

Text from:

Golden Eagle, Sons of Rome Book Four

Copyright © 2019 by Lauren Gilley

“How charming,” Trina said, looking up at the façade of the building Jamie had led them to.

He made a face. “Yeah, I know. Come on.” He led them through a rank ground-floor apartment full of milling people carrying red plastic cups. There was a line for what was apparently a bathroom, though she dreaded the thought of going in it. Through an open rear down, down some steps, into a moldy old courtyard lit up with construction lights.

There was a crowd, cheering.

And a ring, full of two fighters.

One of them was Lanny. 

On Growing

After a long, hot, trying summer, we've finally broken into my favorite season. The landscape is still badly in need of some rain, but the cool breeze, and the even cooler evenings have been invigorating for everything on the farm, me included; probably me most of all. Partly because I tend to wilt in the extreme heat, but mostly because, for as long as I can remember, fall is the season that leaves me crackling with creative energy. I like the warmth and weight of piled-up quilts. I love the somber grace of low, gray clouds, and the last fiery blaze of maple leaves. And my inner Sherlock Holmes loves the color palette; the scents of rain and damp jackets, and the glow of warm lamplight. The early nights and cold chills bring us inside; leave us a little more patient for the leisurely, lush prose of stories intended to be savored by a fire, rather than skimmed through on a beach. 

Safe to say I love fall. And that it gets me fired up to write; and fired up to blog about writing. 

I've spoken at length over the past few years about growing as a writer. It's my constant refrain: "I've grown as a writer." But I don't usually elaborate. I've said that Dragon Slayer is my best work - and I truly believe it's my strongest writing to date. But what does that mean? 

Judging a piece of writing is generally a nebulous art. It's why, while I love to recommend books I've enjoyed, I don't like to offer star ratings and try to numerically quantify a book's enjoyment level. No matter how anyone tries to justify their star rating system, it's always completely subjective. I've had readers knock stars because they disagreed with a character's personal beliefs or politics; for a lack of sex; for, even, a dearth of motorcycles on the page. Some readers love description, and others loathe it. Any author would go mad if she tried to adjust her style to suit the very particular needs of reviewers. I certainly don't do it, and I can't recommend anyone else doing it, either. 

Authors can grow financially by expanding their audience and cultivating a following, sure. But when I talk about growing, I'm talking about growing as a writer. As an artist. I'm talking about slowly, over time, tweaking and perfecting my craft, becoming more adept at putting my vision on the page. 

In general, I can look at each of my books and take note of the ways my writing improved with each one. Writing is an endeavor in which we learn by doing - and by completing. Each finished manuscript better equips us to write the next manuscript. I'm still very much me; my approach remains the same, but if you compare Fearless and Dragon Slayer side-by-side, the growth jumps out. 

I'm very much a detail-oriented person. It's not only how I write, but how I see the world, and that isn't going to change. But the way I convey details - the prose of a description - has gotten much more precise and tactile. The growth is in knowing which details to emphasize, and which ones to understate for maximum impact. 

With Sons of Rome in general, and Dragon Slayer in particular, given its setting, I had so much fun using description to explore a very classical (think Hellenistic) idea of beauty. That's the reason I'm such a detail person: when I write, no matter the setting or subject, I want the prose to convey that moment's beauty. Even if it's a strange kind of beauty - perhaps especially then. Even dark, ugly, haunting moments; terrifying and cringe-worthy moments: my goal is always to paint them beautifully with prose. That's the Romantic in me; the Victorian Gothic in me. It's a style of writing that I used while writing Dartmoor...but, ultimately, I think it's a style at odds with that particular subgenre. Do the readers of those books care if the scenes are written as an appeal to beauty? Feedback over the years has led me to believe that the answer is no, they don't especially. (Pausing to think about that review that said Loverboy was a terrible book because Kev was "pretty.") But I don't regret writing them that way; I learned an incredible amount about craft, and characterization, and finding beauty in fiction-writing. The style does work well, though, with this half-historical, epic, crazy fantasy series I'm working on now. Beauty can be presented without adhering to particular standards. Val can be beautiful because he's lithe and pretty; Vlad can be beautiful because he's terrible, and tragic, and ruthless. My goal, always, is to reveal every scene, every character in a story as subtly alluring to the audience - at least in some way. And that's maybe the element of DS I'm most proud of. 

I also think I've become, in general, less apologetic in my characterization. When I wrote Fearless, I was keenly aware that, for a large chunk of my audience, that way of life was going to be not only alien, but abhorrent. Mercy had done some very violent things, Ava had made some very not-modern decisions about her agency, and I know I put emphasis on explaining that to the audience. Cut to DS, and you don't really get farther from mainstream than Vlad...but I approached him the way I would any character, without apology, with frankness and sympathy. I really can't imagine managing this book five years ago, but I loved every minute I spent developing Vlad; he's become one of my absolute favorite characters to write. In truth, I think this growth is an internal, mental thing; I don't feel the need to apologize for any of my characters. But sometimes having that sort of mindset is wonderfully freeing. 

It's true that the more you write, and the more you grow, the more you tend to doubt yourself. It's part and parcel: the more you know, the more you realize how much you don't know. But I also know that I'm willing to tackle character threads that intimidated me just a few short years ago, and that is growth for which I'm immensely thankful. 

Please know: when I talk about growing, it's not a case of dismissing what I've done before. Rather, it's an acknowledgement of previous work - it's being thankful for it - and looking for ways, going forward, to apply what I've learned. 

General Update 10/10

It's October, my favorite month of the year, and it's finally starting to feel (somewhat) like autumn. I've not been posting as much on Facebook lately, so I thought I'd pop in with some general updates.

• Golden Eagle is coming along really well! I'm incredibly excited about Sons of Rome book four, which is slated for a December release - precise date TBD. You can add it to your GR TBR, and check out its official blurb, HERE.

• I announced today that the title of Sons of Rome book 5 is Lionheart, and it's expected in 2020. We get to catch up with Red, Rooster, Rob and his boys, meet their vampire, "Rich," and see Vlad again. Things are happening...

• On a reading front, I blogged about the book that immediately jumped to the tippy-top of my 2019 Favorites list, Gideon the Ninth, a dark, fun, horror/action delight. 

• Earlier this summer, I read this graphic novel, immediately fell in love with it, and have been spending my morning walks catching up with The Adventure Zone podcast. It's fun, and funny, and according to a mostly reliable source, it has a satisfying ending that is, apparently, "as rewarding as Fullmetal Alchemist." That remains to be seen, but so far, I'm really enjoying it. 

• As always, don't forget that I'm most active on my Instagram, @hppress, and I usually post weekly Teaser Tuesday updates there and on my FB.
• 
  
• 
  
• 
  
• Okay, TTFN. I'm off to read the new Loki comic and then dive back into research. Hope everyone has a lovely evening. 

Book Rec: Gideon the Ninth

Today I'm recc'ing a book that I pre-ordered the moment it was available to do so, and just finished reading this morning. The cover is killer - couldn't resist the pun, sorry - and, having read the author's writing before, I was more than willing to embark upon any literary journey on which she'd chosen to take her audience. I went into the novel without having ready any reviews, only the jacket copy, and without a clue what to expect - beyond the author's unique, big-hearted, delightful prose. I'm happy to report that the book became an instant favorite of the year. 

Gideon the Ninth introduces central protagonist Gideon Nav, a cynical, irreverent, crassly funny swordswoman hell bent on escaping her current planet - the Ninth. Her plan goes disastrously wrong, and she's instead roped into becoming the cavalier of the Ninth's Reverend Daughter, Harrow, on an off-world mission to the First, where Harrow - a necromancer - will be put through a series of trials along with necromancers from all the other "houses" (Second through Eighth) to test their ability to become Lyctors for the mysterious Emperor. What unfolds is a wildly original, imaginative adventure full of bones, blood, mystery, and absolute horror, all while Gideon and Harrow struggle - most of the time unwillingly - to better understand one another, and all told through Gideon's quippy viewpoint. 

That's my basic breakdown. The thing I loved most about this book is the fact that it ferociously resists being stowed neatly away in a particular genre. I scanned some of its reviews today, and it's being called sci-fi, fantasy, space opera, horror, whodunnit, thriller, and the truth is that it's all of these without being mostly any of these things; it's very much its own thing, with imagery that pulls from creaky old gothic mansions, to Dr. Frankenstein's lab, to the underlit steam grates and tunnels of Alien. This reads like a book written by someone who loves all kinds of fiction, who's consumed it from every genre, and has unleashed all the elements she loves best on a multi-layered story as spooky, detailed, and precise as it is gorily in-your-face and horrifying. This book is a wild, original, full-throated cry of "I do what I want," and that's exactly what makes it so unputdownable. I was riveted, beginning to end, and left breathing a silent "wow" when I shut it. 

Enter the novel knowing that: It's the first in a trilogy, so there's lots of world-building, and, though there is closure at the end, there are still plenty of purposeful loose ends left dangling, questions that will be answered in the next two books. It does get bloody, so it's perhaps not the best read for anyone who's very squeamish. If you can't/won't read my Sons of Rome series, this is definitely not the book for you. 

I for one am thrilled to see this kind of book getting published traditionally, and getting some traction in the market. Richly-drawn, detailed, hard-to-categorize fantasy being put out in the world does my writer heart good - and gives me wonderful books to read, besides. 

Re-Read

I have, admittedly, had a shitty summer. I'm sure there are those who've had worse summers, and to them I extend my true sympathies - and feel no small amount of shame for feeling sad for my own shitty summer. But. It is what it is. Grief is funny. It recedes for long moments, and allows you to be perfectly normal and ordinary; and then it comes surging back, like a wave, seemingly without provocation, and knocks your feet out from under you. Leaves you stunned and stupid, thinking, "He's dead," and you just...grasp, mentally, for a moment. And you try very hard not to think about the scar in the soil of the paddock behind the barn, though you see it every day, and you try even harder not to think about what's happening beneath that soil. 

It's been a shitty summer. But. Life goes on. Responsibility and work go on, and we just press along no matter what life throws at us, the best we can. I've made ugly decisions before, and I will again...but, there are moments, there are days, when those decisions drag at you. When you need a deep breath, and maybe a hug, when it just...hurts. 

I've gotten off topic. Because the point I wanted to make with this post was this: we all have our dark moments, and, sometimes, in those moments, we soothe ourselves with fiction. 

In the last two months, I've sought a bit of peace in re-watching two of my favorite shows, both of which I've recc'd here on the blog: Yuri on Ice, and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. Both of which make me cry like a baby, so that's a rather stupid decision. But they're comforting, too. They're good, and they make me feel creative, and artistically whole. YOI I tackled in a day, last month. But FMA is a much longer show, and so I started it, and have been working my way slowly through it an episode or two at a time. 

Early this morning, when I couldn't sleep, I watched the end of Season 2, Episode 13, which is the ep which, at the end - spoiler alert - Ed encounters Al's body inside the Portal of Truth, and: cue waterworks. Artistically, I love every time an episode ends with a bleed-over of the end credits music - the music in this show is amazing. But also, on a character level, this ending is a doozy. One of those smack-you-in-the-face moments you aren't expecting, that make you tear up. 

I've been thinking, as I re-watch favorite shows, and re-read favorite books (I'm on a Vampire Chronicles re-read, currently) about the ways a second viewing/reading cuts so much closer than a first. The ways we see new things, and have old things reinforced in even more meaningful ways. The first time you watch or read something, you're mostly along for the ride. And you feel things - God knows I cried like a baby when I reached the end of FMA for the first time. What a perfect freaking ending to a story. But in my re-watch, I already know how I feel about all the characters, I'm already sold, I'm already attached. And on my re-watch/re-read, I'm looking at all the details. I'm putting myself in the moment and trusting in a way I couldn't as a first-time watcher. 

I won't lie and pretend that part of my reason for posting this isn't to double-recommend Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood to you, if you haven't watched it. It's off Amazon, but it's still on Netflix, so I can't encourage you enough to go watch it. It's become my favorite show of all time, and, as a late-comer to it, I can't express how much I wish I'd known about it sooner. 

My other angle is this: I wanted to thank everyone who's commented/messaged recently to tell me they've been re-reading my books. I can't think of a better compliment. Because, readers being excited about new books, and hyping an author as a celeb gets lots of immediate attention. I mean, all authors want that, don't they? But when someone tells me they're re-reading...then I know that I've provided thoughtfulness and comfort to that reader. I know that my books have been a bright spot. And when that's the case, I can't express my gratitude. I can only hope I continue to write the sorts of books that beg a re-read. That are a comfort, a distraction, a balm. 

Fiction is an escape, and I thank you for allowing me to, at moments, provide that. 

I'm leaving a link, right here, for the FMA scene I'm talking about. If you have TV time, I hope you'll consider it for your rotation. And I thank you, whole-heartedly, for giving me the chance to entertain/comfort/distract you. I know how important that can be.