This week's entry for the Wednesday Worldbuilding Workshop comes from Lxndr. Thanks so much for submitting! As usual, I'll begin by marking words in the text that give me clues to worldbuilding (with the color blue!). This excerpt is unusual because it seems the main character shares my name!
***
At first she thought it was just the shock of having a burning building fall on top of her. But when Juliette stopped to take a breath, she realized she wasn't feeling any pain - and while her clothing was damaged and torn beyond belief, her skin underneath remained unblemished, just porcelain smudged with ashes and dirt. Her bones were unbroken. Even her hair was untouched, no singed bits, not even any split ends. And that just wasn't normal.
Unlike Papa, she had no Gifts... and it was that Einstein fellow who'd said that there wouldn't be any more Awakenings unless something like the Rapture happened again - and the chances of anything else falling from the sky out of space were remote. Is that what happened at the warehouse? The rest of the City didn't seem in the kind of uproar another Rapture would have caused, so it must have been just her. That warehouse was a laboratory full of strange contraptions and devices - perhaps one of them repeated the Rapture, maybe in miniature? She had to ask Frankie, or Papa.
Papa... she glanced back down the alley at the burning wreckage of the warehouse. Memory started trickling into her foggy mind - an explosion, then the warehouse collapsing. It was probably too quick for Papa to have blinked out. She wanted to run back to the wreckage, see if she could find him - but then she heard the sirens of fire trucks. The police wouldn't be too far behind.
If Papa had survived, the old bastard would kill her if she'd let herself get caught. And if he hadn't survived, he wouldn't want her to waste time in mourning. She looked up at the almost-full moon and muttered a little invocation to Athena - a superstition she'd picked up from her father. She shook her head at the foolishness of it, wiped her eyes, and dashed off into the night.
She had to get home, and without her father's Gifts, home was a long way away. She looked down at the tattered, scorched remnants of what was once her favorite body-stocking. Now she was showing more skin than a burlesque dancer, and that would get her more attention than she wanted. Before anything else, she needed to get herself some clothes.
On the top of a nearby building, she saw a clothesline. A cotton frock was dangling, swaying in the wind. She felt a knot in her stomach, telling her she could get there, if only she just jumped. She remembered what Papa told her about his Awakening, when he'd learned what to do with his Gifts. It was almost an instinct, he said - it just felt natural. When an opportunity came up, he just knew what to do.
***
As far as world entry, we don't really get any big hints until the end of the first sentence where we hit burning building. I see this as a degree of evidence for a world like ours (though it could be elsewhere). The name Juliette confirms a human environment - clearly a different one from ours, since she wasn't feeling any pain. But she wears clothing (at least under normal circumstances) and thinks of her skin as unblemished and porcelain, both of which are real world attitudes that I associate with traditional girl appearance messages (marketing?). Similar to this is her concern with the lack of split ends in her hair. Ashes and dirt contribute to the sense of setting begun with the building.
In paragraph two, we start getting hints of what it is that's different from our own world. Papa fits in our world just fine, but there's the concept of Gifts, and that of Awakenings, both of which are new. These are set against the familiar real-world name Einstein and the concept of the Rapture, which readers will almost certainly be familiar with. Falling from the sky out of space says that we are on a planet and our main character is aware of this fact. The warehouse gets us back to setting, and the City suggests slightly more than we've seen previously. We get some technology ideas from the laboratory full of strange contraptions and devices, but alley, sirens of fire trucks, and police mean that most of our expectations stay with a modern real-world scenario. There's a gesture toward unusual beliefs with Juliette's response to the almost-full moon and her invocation to Athena, but then this is minimized by her referring to it as superstition. It will still keep me looking out for similar things going forward.
Now I'll go through the excerpt adding my think-aloud comments in brown.
***
At first she thought it was just the shock of having a burning building fall on top of her. **[A nicely startling first sentence, and opens up unusual possibilities, like that of someone surviving being landed on by a burning building.] But when Juliette stopped to take a breath, **[this "stopped" has me wondering what she was doing before she stopped. Running from the scene? I had been imagining her lying under the building.] she realized she wasn't feeling any pain **[interesting; the place is human enough that pain would be our expectation] - and while her clothing was damaged and torn beyond belief,**[at this point I'm imagining her in shirt and pants, which is my default setting for clothes] her skin underneath remained unblemished,**[this word might just be artistic for "unhurt" but on some level I associate it with a concern about skin care] just porcelain **[this sounds like it's out of a fairy-tale, and seems odd as a judgment of her own skin; more external-observer] smudged with ashes and dirt. Her bones were unbroken.**[I can assume pretty easily that she's checking, but it would be interesting to know if she's actually giving herself the physical once-over.] Even her hair was untouched, no singed bits, not even any split ends.**[Here's another one that makes me think of modern marketing for girls.] And that just wasn't normal. **[Certainly not normal for someone who's had a building landed on them. But normal in general? It would be interesting to know whether she feels that she herself has changed and that something must have happened to cause this.]
Unlike Papa, she had no Gifts... **[The capitalization points this out as something unusual that the reader must pay attention to, but there's no hint here of what Gifts might be. My default guess would be something like psychic powers.] and it was that Einstein fellow **[Which one? The actual Einstein, or someone named after him? It seems like this should be referring to the real Einstein.] who'd said that there wouldn't be any more Awakenings **[I'm confused at this point, because you're telling me Awakenings are also important, but there is no evidence yet of any link between Awakenings and Gifts, and no indication of what Awakenings are independently of Gifts either.] unless something like the Rapture **[I know what the Rapture is supposed to be. Second comings, heaven, etc. Interesting that it might have happened already but I can't see the connection with her situation.] happened again - and the chances of anything else falling from the sky out of space were remote.**[This seems to say that the Rapture occurred when something fell from the sky. Jesus falling out of the sky is an extreme image, but that was what I got, and then "out of space" made it only more bizarre. This was the point where I started thinking maybe the Rapture referred to here might not be the one I'm familiar with. But by this time I'm extremely confused.] Is that what happened at the warehouse? **[Does this mean some kind of Rapture must have happened at a warehouse? Is the warehouse the burning building? You never referred to it as a warehouse before.] The rest of the City **[Ah, she's in a city. I wonder if it's a real city I might know; no indication of that here.] didn't seem in the kind of uproar another Rapture would have caused, so it must have been just her. That warehouse was a laboratory full of strange contraptions and devices **[begs the question of why she was there. Did these things belong to her father? Was he doing something with them that might have caused the event - say, trying to find the causes of recent events?]- perhaps one of them repeated the Rapture, maybe in miniature? She had to ask Frankie, or Papa.
Papa... she glanced back down the alley at the burning wreckage of the warehouse.**[I didn't realize she was in an alley. My sense of her immediate location is a bit minimal at this point.] Memory started trickling into her foggy mind **[her mind hasn't seemed foggy so far. If it were, I'd expect the internalized narrative to be much more disjointed.]- an explosion, then the warehouse collapsing. It was probably too quick for Papa to have blinked out. **[Not sure what this means in this context. Disappeared, yes, but if it's connected to his Gifts, then there's no indication at this point.] She wanted to run back to the wreckage, see if she could find him - but then she heard the sirens of fire trucks. The police wouldn't be too far behind.**[Something about this makes me think she doesn't want to see the authorities, but there's no indication of why that might not be a good thing, or who she is that this would be a problem. What is her motivation here?]
If Papa had survived, the old bastard**[doesn't like her dad?] would kill her if she'd let herself get caught.**[Ah, so she doesn't want to meet authorities.] And if he hadn't survived, he wouldn't want her to waste time in mourning. She looked up at the almost-full moon and muttered a little invocation to Athena - a superstition she'd picked up from her father. **[This is interesting but another thing out of the blue. I don't have a sense of the cultural context that would make this meaningful. It's specified as a superstition, but superstitions can be good or bad, important or unimportant.] She shook her head at the foolishness of it, wiped her eyes, and dashed off into the night.
She had to get home, and without her father's Gifts, home was a long way away. **[It's a long way because he's not here? Or because she can't teleport? I'm not even quite sure if he could teleport...] She looked down at the tattered, scorched remnants of what was once her favorite body-stocking.**[Really? that is what she was wearing?] Now she was showing more skin than a burlesque dancer, **[this makes me wonder about her age, and her social context, that she knows about burlesque dancers and that would be the first thing she thinks to compare herself to.] and that would get her more attention than she wanted. Before anything else, she needed to get herself some clothes.
On the top of a nearby building, she saw a clothesline. A cotton frock **[a British expression. Interesting; we havent' had a sense of actual location previously.] was dangling, swaying in the wind. She felt a knot in her stomach, telling her she could get there, if only she just jumped. She remembered what Papa told her about his Awakening, when he'd learned what to do with his Gifts. It was almost an instinct, he said - it just felt natural. When an opportunity came up, he just knew what to do.**[If she's suddenly feeling this, and has never had Gifts before, wouldn't she be surprised?]
***
Thanks again to Lxndr for submitting. There are a lot of interesting mixed real-world and fantastical elements in this piece. It does give me the opportunity, though, to talk about defining foundation concepts in worldbuilding. Part of the reason for my confusion as I read was that there were several concepts underlying the piece that I needed to understand. One of these was Gifts; another was Awakenings; the third was an alternate meaning for the Rapture. All three were introduced within the same paragraph, and in large part were dependent on one another for their understanding. If I didn't understand Gifts, I wasn't going to understand Awakenings, and the Rapture as a cause for both didn't compute. Major concepts like this need to be marked as important, but also given surrounding contextual support. Occasionally I find instances where it was the author's choice not to give the contextual support, in the interest of creating mystery, but it usually does more harm than good. Supplying capital letters to make a word stand out is something I do a lot (and have had to tone down before); it's effective at drawing reader attention, but then we need just a little more. If Gifts are too normal to be explained, then you can always give the protagonist a chance to muse on the relevance of a particular Gift to a given situation - for example, be specific and say that if she'd had her father's Gifts, she could have teleported right out of there before the building (warehouse) fell on her. When a conceptual explanation would be too clunky, providing a relevant example can go a long way. Awakenings could have been supported by phrasing it as "there hadn't been any more people Awakening to their Gifts since..." As far as the Rapture is concerned, it really needs support so that readers don't choose the default understanding of Rapture. My choice would be to explain the event that occurred, and then indicate that it had changed everything and everyone so much (creating chosen ones?) that people had started calling it the Rapture.
I'm not sure if right here in the narrative is the best place to do this. The Rapture requires enough support that it might take away from what is going on right now - grounding the location, her identity and her attitude toward police, the activities going on in the warehouse, for example. You could slow way down with the distribution of these main concepts and start her off mostly dealing with the strange aftermath of the explosion, not really knowing why she's okay, and thinking it's odd, but mostly concentrating on getting out of there. Gifts could come up in the context of whether her father is all right, and Awakenings could happen after she discovers she is able to jump to fetch the hanging frock. Then once she realizes she suddenly has Gifts, and is safer, she can muse on how it might have happened.
Very often we'll have a set of core concepts or beliefs that underlie a story, ones which require some explanation because the story can't work without them. They deserve the time it takes to set them up with support so that readers won't be confused. The trick is searching through the narrative, and what you're trying to achieve, to find the place where the concept has most relevance, and where the protagonist has time to pause and think things through.
Lxndr, I hope you find these comments helpful. Any constructive discussion is welcome.
Showing posts with label workshop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label workshop. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Wednesday Worldbuilding Workshop: Superiors and inferiors in a magic system
This week's entry for the Wednesday Worldbuilding Workshop comes from Nicole Sheldrake. Thanks so much, Nicole! It's hard to believe I've been doing this for fourteen weeks now, but I really enjoy seeing what you all come up with, and I hope you enjoy hearing my opinions. Special thanks go to all those who have shared this workshop and invited their friends... we wouldn't still be doing it if not for you!
As usual, I'll begin by marking words in the text that give me clues to worldbuilding (with the color blue!).
***
When Benjamin Skyhammer opened his office door, the Relic collector remained seated, hidden behind an open newspaper. The collector was early and Skyhammer was alone. He glanced at the bare brick walls, the two shuttered windows, and the three lone pieces of furniture, one table and two chairs. Higgins was definitely not there. He swallowed and stepped into his office.
"About time you got here, Skyhammer. I had to waste energy on a spell to unlock the door. Where's my Relic?" Kelhenia, collector of Relics, tossed her newspaper on the wooden table, then crossed her arms over her pristine white jacket.
Skyhammer's jaw tightened as he shut the door. He strode to the table in the middle of the room, nose wrinkling at a waft of her heavy floral perfume. Eyes trained on the jiggling jowls of the overweight woman across from him, he lifted his backpack off his shoulder.
"I said where's my Relic, Untouchable scum?" Kelhenia slipped a red, rectangular glass slate from her pocket.
Skyhammer's eyes widened. She was going to perform a spell on him! With a swift movement, his right hand gripped the hilt of his longsword, then fell away. He was defenseless. He could haul out his sword and attempt to slice her in half but like most humans who lived in the Royal Circle, she would be protected by a magic shield.
Kelhenia's sausage fingers drew in the impressionable glass, a sketch that looked like nails had pressed hard into sunburned skin, creating white lines. She blew across the drawing.
First the drawing then the table disappeared, leaving the newspaper to plummet to the wooden floor and land with a soft smack.
He clutched the strap of the backpack he'd been about to drop on the table. "In here," he muttered, relieved that she'd used her magic on the table instead of him. He didn't consider himself good-looking but over the years he'd grown attached to his spiky brown hair, six-foot-four height and prominent ears.
"Well? Aren't you going to put the table back?" She sniggered, then raised her eyebrows.
Two years. Two years he'd been selling the woman Relics and every time they met she had to taunt him about his lack of magic powers. His teeth clenched. It wasn't his fault he was an Untouchable, born without magic.
His backpack thumped onto the ground.
"How dare you abuse my Relic!" Kelhenia leapt up, face red, fingers starting to trace another pattern on her magic slate.
"It's not yours yet." Skyhammer knelt and opened the clasp of his bag. Maybe he could distract the collector. Higgins wasn't due to arrive for at least another ten minutes. Kelhenia could easily steal the Relic from him before then.
She gasped as he withdrew the Relic.
Thick cyan liquid filled a simple red clay bowl to the brim. Three inches above the bowl, a stream of the liquid erupted out of the air and poured down like wine from an invisible bottle.
***
As with many stories, we get our first worldbuilding clue from a name, in this case Benjamin Skyhammer. It's an interesting name with a lot of possible connotations, including 1. anyone named Benjamin is likely human 2. an evocation of Luke Skywalker and 3. an evocation of detective Mike Hammer. Location-wise we see an office door, which suggests Earth - but the title Relic collector isn't a very familiar one. Without further information it could be Indiana-Jones-ish, or fantastical. Seated reinforces the humanity of the participants here, and newspaper gives us a very specific technology level and possible era. In fact, the constellation of Hammer, the office door and a person seated behind the desk holding a newspaper may already have evoked the classic private detective scenario. We soon discover more about the office with bare brick walls, shuttered windows, and three lone pieces of furniture, one table and two chairs.
Things change a bit when we hit the phrase waste energy on a spell. Now it's clear (if it wasn't already) that this isn't our typical private detective scenario. The visitor's name, Kelhenia, fits with this, because it is fantastical. She does, however, use human body language with crossed her arms. In the next paragraph things seem to fit with the expanded vision we have of humans, a detective scenario, plus magic, until we hit the phrase Untouchable scum. This phrase instantly invokes the idea of caste, since Untouchable is a concept common to numerous caste systems including the Indian and the Japanese (remnants of which still remain). The caste idea isn't much expanded on, but we soon get a red, rectangular glass slate that she takes from her pocket. This illuminates the magic system that we'll be seeing. We get another piece of the fantastical from Skyhammer's instinct to grip the hilt of his longsword (rather than reading for a gun). More social hints come from the phrase like most humans who lived in the Royal Circle, and more magic information from magic shield and impressionable glass.
I'm going to stop there because that is my sense of the world entry. Now I'll go through the entry again with my comments in brown and marked by **[ . For those of you visiting the workshop for the first time, these comments are not corrections. They are my thoughts as I read through, and I may make note of points of confusion.
***
When Benjamin Skyhammer **[that's an evocative name! We're most likely dealing with a human] opened his office door **[this is consistent with a human model, and we're clearly in a place that supports offices and their doors] , the Relic collector **[unusual title; I'll be looking to learn more] remained seated,**[this person is also probably human] hidden behind an open newspaper**[newspaper places our technology in a certain era on earth. I'm not certain whether the Relic collector is seated inside the office or outside it]. The collector was early and Skyhammer was alone.**[Since I assume this is relevant, I'm guessing there is some kind of peril here for Skyhammer. I wish I had a clearer idea of what he thinks it is.] He glanced at the bare brick walls, the two shuttered windows, and the three lone pieces of furniture, one table and two chairs.**[A lot of physical details of the office. It's starting to look like a familiar detective scenario. I don't get much evidence from this description that it's Skyhammer's office, however. More judgment words might help this.] Higgins was definitely not there.**[I wonder who Higgins is and why he is supposed to be there, and whether that would be a good or a bad thing.] He swallowed and stepped into his office.
"About time you got here, Skyhammer.**[So she's his superior.] I had to waste energy on a spell **[oh, we have magic in this world too - and it costs energy.] to unlock the door. Where's my Relic?" **[So he's supposed to be bringing her a relic?] Kelhenia, **[definitely a fantasy name; this fits with her use of magic.] collector of Relics, tossed her newspaper on the wooden table, then crossed her arms **[she uses pretty human body language.] over her pristine white jacket.**[I notice that this world is familiar enough that color values remain the same, as well as some fashions.]
Skyhammer's jaw tightened **[more quintessentially human body language, but it sounds as though it's being observed from the outside] as he shut the door. He strode to the table in the middle of the room, nose wrinkling at a waft of her heavy floral perfume.**[I like this sensory detail. It places us back in Skyhammer's viewpoint] Eyes trained on the jiggling jowls of the overweight **[If she's got jiggling jowls, I'm surprised to see the word "overweight." I associate it with a time period following that of the detective scenario, and also with a weight considerably lower than the jiggling jowls evoke for me.] woman across from him, he lifted his backpack **[more interesting technological grounding]off his shoulder.
"I said where's my Relic, Untouchable scum?**[Wow, there are castes here?] " Kelhenia slipped a red, rectangular glass slate **[this is very distinctive and I'm curious, watching for its significance.] from her pocket.
Skyhammer's eyes widened**[external body language]. She was going to perform a spell on him! **[That explains the significance of the slate, so we know the magic system is based on some kind of objects.] With a swift movement, his right hand gripped the hilt of his longsword,**[This surprised me. I was expecting a weapon to fit with the detective scenario technology level, not with the fantasy elements.] then fell away. He was defenseless. He could haul out his sword and attempt to slice her in half but like most humans who lived in the Royal Circle,**[this is interesting social information. I wonder where her position, Relic collector, places her in the Royal Circle. Probably not among the royalty.] she would be protected by a magic shield.**[I wish I knew more about this magic shield. It must be invisible; I wonder what he expects would happen if he made the attempt.]
Kelhenia's sausage fingers**[this is very earthly] drew in the impressionable glass**[this is very unearthly; a nice contrast.], a sketch that looked like nails had pressed hard into sunburned skin,**[I like how this evokes pain] creating white lines. She blew across the drawing.**[I like what we learn by seeing her work magic. This reminds me of the magic system in Howl's Moving Castle.]
First the drawing then the table disappeared, leaving the newspaper to plummet to the wooden floor and land with a soft smack.**[what disappeared? Is the whole tablet gone?]
He clutched the strap of the backpack he'd been about to drop on the table. "In here," he muttered, relieved that she'd used her magic on the table instead of him. He didn't consider himself good-looking but over the years he'd grown attached to his spiky brown hair, six-foot-four height and prominent ears.**[This surprised me. Did he think she was going to alter his appearance? I'm not sure he'd be thinking of the details of his own appearance if she was just going to make him disappear.]
"Well? Aren't you going to put the table back?"**[Who says this?] She sniggered, then raised her eyebrows.
Two years. **[This is a real-world measurement of time, which fits] Two years he'd been selling the woman Relics and every time they met she had to taunt him about his lack of magic powers. **[This makes it sound like teasing. Teasing from a position of power is very unpleasant] His teeth clenched. It wasn't his fault he was an Untouchable, born without magic. **[Wow, it's a caste system? I'm surprised to see that the Untouchable category is people without magic. Everything about Kelhenia, her power position and her magic makes her appear to be part of a magic-wielding elite. This seems to reverse that impression.]
His backpack thumped onto the ground.**[Did it fall or did he drop it? Why? Is he trying to upset her?]
"How dare you abuse my Relic!" Kelhenia leapt up, face red, fingers starting to trace another pattern on her magic slate.**[When I got here I was surprised to see the slate because I thought it had disappeared along with the design she drew. Maybe I don't have a clear picture of it in my head.]
"It's not yours yet." Skyhammer knelt and opened the clasp of his bag. Maybe he could distract the collector. Higgins wasn't due to arrive for at least another ten minutes.**[That seems like an awfully long time] Kelhenia could easily steal the Relic from him before then.**[I wonder about their relationship. Her power and position seem like they would make it easy for her to have taken all the relics without recompense, without the label of stealing. It would help if I had an idea of what Skyhammer thinks Higgins is going to do for him (if he's a transaction-recorder, or a policeman, or a free agent, or a magic-wielding friend of Skyhammer's).]
She gasped as he withdrew the Relic.**[Taking it out will distract her; that's interesting, since it could also inspire her to take it. This must be something special. I'm curious at this point to see what it is, for a further glimpse of this magic system.]
Thick cyan liquid filled a simple red clay bowl to the brim. Three inches above the bowl, a stream of the liquid erupted out of the air and poured down like wine from an invisible bottle.**[I can see that the materials of the Relic are relatively simple. Presumably there's something about it that will become evident as the story continues.]
***
First, let me say thanks again to Nicole for submitting this piece. It's a mixed real-world and magic-world piece, which is very interesting. One of the things I do as I go through a piece which mixes real and fantastical is try to determine what principles separate the two parts. In this case, I had assigned the local technology, buildings and such to the real-world side, and magic objects, social structures and professions to the fantastical side. This is the reason why I tripped up when I hit the reference to Benjamin Skyhammer's sword.
I also want to bring some attention to the social structures here. At the start I find myself accessing the scenario in which the private detective returns to his office and finds someone has broken in without his permission. For me this places Kelhenia in the role of boss and Skyhammer in the role of employee...which fits generally with the idea of the Relic finder and the Relic collector. Because I don't know much about this world yet, I wonder if the position of Relic collector is institutional, like the role of tax collector, or if it is personal, like the role of art collector. A better sense of who Higgins is and what Benjamin expects him to do might illuminate this a little. Then there is the question of magic users and castes, which appear to be interrelated. When the boss is a magic-user, that falls easily into a model in which magic users are few and take positions of power. The idea of Benjamin as being untouchable because he isn't a magic user therefore came as a surprise to me, and made me revise my concept. If everyone is a magic user, then I start looking for common everyday uses of magic (like Mrs. Weasley's kitchen in The Burrow). I start wondering whether there is something specific about the magic that would lead its users to believe that people who were deprived were worthy of ostracism (does it change them physically? is it considered cleansing? etc.). The place of the Relics in such a system is then more mysterious. Are these relatively common objects, or is the magic use restricted to the drawing of pictures that leads to particular effects - and thus, actual magic objects are unusual? Our guide to the answers to these questions is Benjamin. If magic objects were commonly available, he might have purchased some for the purposes of protecting himself from people like Kelhenia. He should show surprise at objects that are unusual, and help readers contextualize what they see. It might be helpful too for him to think of his own group as "us" and "my people" rather than labeling them as an outsider might.
I found this piece whimsical and intriguing. There's a lot of really interesting stuff here, and only a little time and space here for me to explore it. I hope these comments have provided a few ideas on strengthening how the world and the magic system come across.
As always, I welcome constructive comments.
As usual, I'll begin by marking words in the text that give me clues to worldbuilding (with the color blue!).
***
When Benjamin Skyhammer opened his office door, the Relic collector remained seated, hidden behind an open newspaper. The collector was early and Skyhammer was alone. He glanced at the bare brick walls, the two shuttered windows, and the three lone pieces of furniture, one table and two chairs. Higgins was definitely not there. He swallowed and stepped into his office.
"About time you got here, Skyhammer. I had to waste energy on a spell to unlock the door. Where's my Relic?" Kelhenia, collector of Relics, tossed her newspaper on the wooden table, then crossed her arms over her pristine white jacket.
Skyhammer's jaw tightened as he shut the door. He strode to the table in the middle of the room, nose wrinkling at a waft of her heavy floral perfume. Eyes trained on the jiggling jowls of the overweight woman across from him, he lifted his backpack off his shoulder.
"I said where's my Relic, Untouchable scum?" Kelhenia slipped a red, rectangular glass slate from her pocket.
Skyhammer's eyes widened. She was going to perform a spell on him! With a swift movement, his right hand gripped the hilt of his longsword, then fell away. He was defenseless. He could haul out his sword and attempt to slice her in half but like most humans who lived in the Royal Circle, she would be protected by a magic shield.
Kelhenia's sausage fingers drew in the impressionable glass, a sketch that looked like nails had pressed hard into sunburned skin, creating white lines. She blew across the drawing.
First the drawing then the table disappeared, leaving the newspaper to plummet to the wooden floor and land with a soft smack.
He clutched the strap of the backpack he'd been about to drop on the table. "In here," he muttered, relieved that she'd used her magic on the table instead of him. He didn't consider himself good-looking but over the years he'd grown attached to his spiky brown hair, six-foot-four height and prominent ears.
"Well? Aren't you going to put the table back?" She sniggered, then raised her eyebrows.
Two years. Two years he'd been selling the woman Relics and every time they met she had to taunt him about his lack of magic powers. His teeth clenched. It wasn't his fault he was an Untouchable, born without magic.
His backpack thumped onto the ground.
"How dare you abuse my Relic!" Kelhenia leapt up, face red, fingers starting to trace another pattern on her magic slate.
"It's not yours yet." Skyhammer knelt and opened the clasp of his bag. Maybe he could distract the collector. Higgins wasn't due to arrive for at least another ten minutes. Kelhenia could easily steal the Relic from him before then.
She gasped as he withdrew the Relic.
Thick cyan liquid filled a simple red clay bowl to the brim. Three inches above the bowl, a stream of the liquid erupted out of the air and poured down like wine from an invisible bottle.
***
As with many stories, we get our first worldbuilding clue from a name, in this case Benjamin Skyhammer. It's an interesting name with a lot of possible connotations, including 1. anyone named Benjamin is likely human 2. an evocation of Luke Skywalker and 3. an evocation of detective Mike Hammer. Location-wise we see an office door, which suggests Earth - but the title Relic collector isn't a very familiar one. Without further information it could be Indiana-Jones-ish, or fantastical. Seated reinforces the humanity of the participants here, and newspaper gives us a very specific technology level and possible era. In fact, the constellation of Hammer, the office door and a person seated behind the desk holding a newspaper may already have evoked the classic private detective scenario. We soon discover more about the office with bare brick walls, shuttered windows, and three lone pieces of furniture, one table and two chairs.
Things change a bit when we hit the phrase waste energy on a spell. Now it's clear (if it wasn't already) that this isn't our typical private detective scenario. The visitor's name, Kelhenia, fits with this, because it is fantastical. She does, however, use human body language with crossed her arms. In the next paragraph things seem to fit with the expanded vision we have of humans, a detective scenario, plus magic, until we hit the phrase Untouchable scum. This phrase instantly invokes the idea of caste, since Untouchable is a concept common to numerous caste systems including the Indian and the Japanese (remnants of which still remain). The caste idea isn't much expanded on, but we soon get a red, rectangular glass slate that she takes from her pocket. This illuminates the magic system that we'll be seeing. We get another piece of the fantastical from Skyhammer's instinct to grip the hilt of his longsword (rather than reading for a gun). More social hints come from the phrase like most humans who lived in the Royal Circle, and more magic information from magic shield and impressionable glass.
I'm going to stop there because that is my sense of the world entry. Now I'll go through the entry again with my comments in brown and marked by **[ . For those of you visiting the workshop for the first time, these comments are not corrections. They are my thoughts as I read through, and I may make note of points of confusion.
***
When Benjamin Skyhammer **[that's an evocative name! We're most likely dealing with a human] opened his office door **[this is consistent with a human model, and we're clearly in a place that supports offices and their doors] , the Relic collector **[unusual title; I'll be looking to learn more] remained seated,**[this person is also probably human] hidden behind an open newspaper**[newspaper places our technology in a certain era on earth. I'm not certain whether the Relic collector is seated inside the office or outside it]. The collector was early and Skyhammer was alone.**[Since I assume this is relevant, I'm guessing there is some kind of peril here for Skyhammer. I wish I had a clearer idea of what he thinks it is.] He glanced at the bare brick walls, the two shuttered windows, and the three lone pieces of furniture, one table and two chairs.**[A lot of physical details of the office. It's starting to look like a familiar detective scenario. I don't get much evidence from this description that it's Skyhammer's office, however. More judgment words might help this.] Higgins was definitely not there.**[I wonder who Higgins is and why he is supposed to be there, and whether that would be a good or a bad thing.] He swallowed and stepped into his office.
"About time you got here, Skyhammer.**[So she's his superior.] I had to waste energy on a spell **[oh, we have magic in this world too - and it costs energy.] to unlock the door. Where's my Relic?" **[So he's supposed to be bringing her a relic?] Kelhenia, **[definitely a fantasy name; this fits with her use of magic.] collector of Relics, tossed her newspaper on the wooden table, then crossed her arms **[she uses pretty human body language.] over her pristine white jacket.**[I notice that this world is familiar enough that color values remain the same, as well as some fashions.]
Skyhammer's jaw tightened **[more quintessentially human body language, but it sounds as though it's being observed from the outside] as he shut the door. He strode to the table in the middle of the room, nose wrinkling at a waft of her heavy floral perfume.**[I like this sensory detail. It places us back in Skyhammer's viewpoint] Eyes trained on the jiggling jowls of the overweight **[If she's got jiggling jowls, I'm surprised to see the word "overweight." I associate it with a time period following that of the detective scenario, and also with a weight considerably lower than the jiggling jowls evoke for me.] woman across from him, he lifted his backpack **[more interesting technological grounding]off his shoulder.
"I said where's my Relic, Untouchable scum?**[Wow, there are castes here?] " Kelhenia slipped a red, rectangular glass slate **[this is very distinctive and I'm curious, watching for its significance.] from her pocket.
Skyhammer's eyes widened**[external body language]. She was going to perform a spell on him! **[That explains the significance of the slate, so we know the magic system is based on some kind of objects.] With a swift movement, his right hand gripped the hilt of his longsword,**[This surprised me. I was expecting a weapon to fit with the detective scenario technology level, not with the fantasy elements.] then fell away. He was defenseless. He could haul out his sword and attempt to slice her in half but like most humans who lived in the Royal Circle,**[this is interesting social information. I wonder where her position, Relic collector, places her in the Royal Circle. Probably not among the royalty.] she would be protected by a magic shield.**[I wish I knew more about this magic shield. It must be invisible; I wonder what he expects would happen if he made the attempt.]
Kelhenia's sausage fingers**[this is very earthly] drew in the impressionable glass**[this is very unearthly; a nice contrast.], a sketch that looked like nails had pressed hard into sunburned skin,**[I like how this evokes pain] creating white lines. She blew across the drawing.**[I like what we learn by seeing her work magic. This reminds me of the magic system in Howl's Moving Castle.]
First the drawing then the table disappeared, leaving the newspaper to plummet to the wooden floor and land with a soft smack.**[what disappeared? Is the whole tablet gone?]
He clutched the strap of the backpack he'd been about to drop on the table. "In here," he muttered, relieved that she'd used her magic on the table instead of him. He didn't consider himself good-looking but over the years he'd grown attached to his spiky brown hair, six-foot-four height and prominent ears.**[This surprised me. Did he think she was going to alter his appearance? I'm not sure he'd be thinking of the details of his own appearance if she was just going to make him disappear.]
"Well? Aren't you going to put the table back?"**[Who says this?] She sniggered, then raised her eyebrows.
Two years. **[This is a real-world measurement of time, which fits] Two years he'd been selling the woman Relics and every time they met she had to taunt him about his lack of magic powers. **[This makes it sound like teasing. Teasing from a position of power is very unpleasant] His teeth clenched. It wasn't his fault he was an Untouchable, born without magic. **[Wow, it's a caste system? I'm surprised to see that the Untouchable category is people without magic. Everything about Kelhenia, her power position and her magic makes her appear to be part of a magic-wielding elite. This seems to reverse that impression.]
His backpack thumped onto the ground.**[Did it fall or did he drop it? Why? Is he trying to upset her?]
"How dare you abuse my Relic!" Kelhenia leapt up, face red, fingers starting to trace another pattern on her magic slate.**[When I got here I was surprised to see the slate because I thought it had disappeared along with the design she drew. Maybe I don't have a clear picture of it in my head.]
"It's not yours yet." Skyhammer knelt and opened the clasp of his bag. Maybe he could distract the collector. Higgins wasn't due to arrive for at least another ten minutes.**[That seems like an awfully long time] Kelhenia could easily steal the Relic from him before then.**[I wonder about their relationship. Her power and position seem like they would make it easy for her to have taken all the relics without recompense, without the label of stealing. It would help if I had an idea of what Skyhammer thinks Higgins is going to do for him (if he's a transaction-recorder, or a policeman, or a free agent, or a magic-wielding friend of Skyhammer's).]
She gasped as he withdrew the Relic.**[Taking it out will distract her; that's interesting, since it could also inspire her to take it. This must be something special. I'm curious at this point to see what it is, for a further glimpse of this magic system.]
Thick cyan liquid filled a simple red clay bowl to the brim. Three inches above the bowl, a stream of the liquid erupted out of the air and poured down like wine from an invisible bottle.**[I can see that the materials of the Relic are relatively simple. Presumably there's something about it that will become evident as the story continues.]
***
First, let me say thanks again to Nicole for submitting this piece. It's a mixed real-world and magic-world piece, which is very interesting. One of the things I do as I go through a piece which mixes real and fantastical is try to determine what principles separate the two parts. In this case, I had assigned the local technology, buildings and such to the real-world side, and magic objects, social structures and professions to the fantastical side. This is the reason why I tripped up when I hit the reference to Benjamin Skyhammer's sword.
I also want to bring some attention to the social structures here. At the start I find myself accessing the scenario in which the private detective returns to his office and finds someone has broken in without his permission. For me this places Kelhenia in the role of boss and Skyhammer in the role of employee...which fits generally with the idea of the Relic finder and the Relic collector. Because I don't know much about this world yet, I wonder if the position of Relic collector is institutional, like the role of tax collector, or if it is personal, like the role of art collector. A better sense of who Higgins is and what Benjamin expects him to do might illuminate this a little. Then there is the question of magic users and castes, which appear to be interrelated. When the boss is a magic-user, that falls easily into a model in which magic users are few and take positions of power. The idea of Benjamin as being untouchable because he isn't a magic user therefore came as a surprise to me, and made me revise my concept. If everyone is a magic user, then I start looking for common everyday uses of magic (like Mrs. Weasley's kitchen in The Burrow). I start wondering whether there is something specific about the magic that would lead its users to believe that people who were deprived were worthy of ostracism (does it change them physically? is it considered cleansing? etc.). The place of the Relics in such a system is then more mysterious. Are these relatively common objects, or is the magic use restricted to the drawing of pictures that leads to particular effects - and thus, actual magic objects are unusual? Our guide to the answers to these questions is Benjamin. If magic objects were commonly available, he might have purchased some for the purposes of protecting himself from people like Kelhenia. He should show surprise at objects that are unusual, and help readers contextualize what they see. It might be helpful too for him to think of his own group as "us" and "my people" rather than labeling them as an outsider might.
I found this piece whimsical and intriguing. There's a lot of really interesting stuff here, and only a little time and space here for me to explore it. I hope these comments have provided a few ideas on strengthening how the world and the magic system come across.
As always, I welcome constructive comments.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Wednesday Worldbuilding Workshop: Orienting by marking insiders vs. outsiders
Welcome to week 13 of the Wednesday Worldbuilding Workshop! This week's entry comes from Siri Paulson. Thanks for submitting - it was great to see a couple of new entries come in this week! As I generally do, I'll begin by highlighting in blue all the words that I use to pick up worldbuilding information, and directly following the excerpt, I'll talk about how those words give me entry into the world.
***
Athneh shifted position on the carpet where she sat cross-legged. "Herbs from the fish-kin!" she cried. "Healing herbs for all your ills!" Around her on the market quay, City-dwellers hurried on without stopping. It made her edgy.
A Ferrican stopped before her. She raised her eyes past the crenellated hem of his tunic to the bow in his hand. "Expecting trouble, sir?"
"I need a protection charm," he said in accented Kemetian. That wasn't exactly an answer, but it wasn't a denial, either.
Guilt warred with shame. "I...I have none, sir."
"But you're a fish-kin. Or are you an Islander trying to make a profit off fake magic?"
Athneh gasped, the insult rendering her speechless. Her people might live on the Islands too, but they weren't the same as the Islanders. Even Ferricans knew that.
Ruri leaned over from behind the weavings she had spread out next to Athneh's carpet. "She's all out of the charms you want, sir. They've been popular today."
Athneh shot her friend a grateful glance. "That's right," she said to the Ferrican. "But I have herbs to make your mind sharper and your movements faster. Would those tempt you?"
"Fine, but be quick."
Athneh blinked. Ferricans were normally chatty. She took several bunches from the assortment before her and wrapped them in a cloth. "Brew two pinches of this into a tea and drink it. If you're in a hurry, use cold water, but the effect will be less pronounced. Don't use more than two pinches per day or you'll get the shakes. Any questions?" She put the herbs into a small sewn bag and looked up at him.
"How much?"
"Two packets of salt, sir."
The Ferrican dropped the packets into her hand and took the bag. He glanced from Ruri to Athneh and then their husbands in the small boats tied up behind them. "Be careful, fish-kin. The Kemete have cut off negotiations with the City. Everyone's waiting to see what they do next."
Ruri opened her mouth, Athneh went to elbow her, and a horn from the City walls made them both jump. Athneh whipped her head around to see the sentry on the south wall, facing the coast of Kemet across the strait, wind his bronze horn a second time. The Ferrican ran off.
"Quickly!" called Jorlath from the boat he shared with Ruri. "We've got to get out of here!"
Ruri, gone almost as pale as the Ferrican, began to roll up her weavings without a word.
Brin said mildly from the other boat, "Perhaps it would be better to stay within the walls."
Athneh shivered. The very idea made the City seem smaller, despite the whitewashed buildings that rose three or even four storeys. She had always liked the gentle curves of the walls and roofs, the window-boxes overflowing with flowers from the Islands and the river delta of Kemet and beyond, but now all she wanted was to be on the open water that surrounded the City.
***
The first piece of world information we get here is the name, Athneh. Alternate-language names really establish difference fast! One word, and instantly we're not in Kansas any more - probably science fiction or fantasy. We can tell that we're not dealing with aliens or high tech pretty quickly though, because of carpet and cross-legged. The fact that our character is selling herbs and calling out her wares gives me a sense that we're dealing with lower technology, and evidence is building for a fantasy scenario. The term fish-kin also has a fantasy feel to it because if the word "kin," so I'm not surprised when we find that the herbs being sold are healing herbs for all your ills. (I should remark, though, that words like these have been used for unusually flavored sf, notably by Michael Flynn). We get our first sense of physical setting beyond the carpet and the herbs (which suggest climate) with the words market quay and City-dwellers. The word City written with a capital letter gives me some cultural information to add to that provided by the girl calling out her wares on the market quay, indicating that life here centers around a particular city (that I'll be looking to find out more about).
Next comes the word Ferrican. The ending -an suggests this is some kind of affiliation word, most likely a nationality. The crenellated hem of his tunic suggests his culture through fashion. The bow suggests military technology level. Also, Athneh uses sir to be deferential, providing social information. It's not clear how much this indicates that the Ferrican must be revered, however, because using "sir" also is natural between a merchant and customer. We get our first hint of magic with protection charm. Kemetian is clearly a language, though who it naturally belongs to is not clear. Soon the piece starts to indicate social strife between different groups, when the Ferrican accuses Athneh of being an Islander trying to make a profit off fake magic. This at the same time suggests that real magic is possible. We are told that this is a serious insult, and we see some of Athneh's ideas about what people in this world know about each other, something which continues later with Ferricans were normally chatty. The instructions for brewing the tea give hints of culture, and her description of the shakes hints about knowledge of the body in this world. The Ferrican then buys the herbs with two packets of salt, a very distinctively different form of currency.
More social information keeps coming. Soon we get husbands in the small boats tied up behind them, a glimpse of daily practices. Then politics ensues with the Kemete cutting off negotiations with the City. Toward the end of the excerpt we get a physical description of the the walls of the city, its whitewashed buildings and window-boxes, and an indication of the larger surround with river delta of Kemet.
All right. At this point I'm going to shift gears and go into my brown-marked think aloud commentary. I don't intend these to be any kind of corrections, but I'll share my thoughts and any confusion I might have.
***
Athneh **[I'm thinking fantasy here, though the language pattern isn't so traditional that I can immediately rule out sf or some world language I don't know] shifted position on the carpet where she sat cross-legged.**[Clearly she's human; if she weren't, I'd expect some hint here.] "Herbs from the fish-kin!" she cried. "Healing herbs for all your ills!" **[Calling out and selling healing herbs gives me another fantasy nudge. I'm not sure whether I'm looking at real magic yet or not.] Around her on the market quay,**[interesting location.] City-dwellers **[I think the quay is in or near the City, but I'm not sure about their precise relation] hurried on without stopping. It made her edgy.
A Ferrican **[this seems either like a nationality (first guess) or social affiliation like a monastic or military affiliation] stopped before her. She raised her eyes past the crenellated hem of his tunic **[I see him quite clearly] to the bow **[is this a fashion, or a weapon? It's not clear for another few words; an adjective might clarify this] in his hand. "Expecting trouble, sir?"**[She treats him deferentially, but this could just be because of her job, not his]
"I need a protection charm," **[so there's magic here.] he said in accented Kemetian. **[A language - but whose language? Not native for him, apparently, but it comes a bit out of the blue and makes me shift gears when I'm busy on the lookout for what "Ferrican" means.] That wasn't exactly an answer, but it wasn't a denial, either.
Guilt warred with shame. **[wow, a pretty extreme reaction to just not having what he wants. What did she do? Who could be is holding her to this standard?] "I...I have none, sir."
"But you're a fish-kin.**[oh okay. I thought she might be fish-kin, but she could just have been a merchant selling their stuff.] Or are you an Islander **[yet another social group. It's starting to give me difficulty orienting myself.] trying to make a profit off fake magic?"**[fake magic implies that real magic is possible, and interesting confirmation of the hint earlier.]
Athneh gasped, the insult rendering her speechless.**[Another extreme reaction. Athneh seems very sensitive, and I wish I had some hint, from her judgment, of why this was such an insult. Otherwise it feels like we're being handed the information that this should be offensive.] Her people might live on the Islands too, but they weren't the same as the Islanders. Even Ferricans knew that.**[This goes a little way toward fixing my sense of who the Islanders are, but I still know nothing about them to back up her sense of insult. I do get the hint that she doesn't think too highly of Ferricans, though.]
Ruri leaned over from behind the weavings she had spread out next to Athneh's carpet. **[Oh, so she's not alone here. Is this a friend, or just a fellow merchant? It's not clear.] "She's all out of the charms you want, sir. They've been popular today." **[I'm not sure if she's telling the truth, because of the way Athneh reacted.]
Athneh shot her friend **[oh, a friend.] a grateful glance. "That's right," she said to the Ferrican. "But I have herbs to make your mind sharper and your movements faster. Would those tempt you?"**[I wonder why she didn't go straight to this, rather than admitting she didn't have what he wanted. It makes her come across as less experienced as an herb-seller. Is she very young?]
"Fine, but be quick."
Athneh blinked. Ferricans were normally chatty. **[This one has already been established as rude, so I'm not sure why she'd be surprised here.] She took several bunches from the assortment before her and wrapped them in a cloth. "Brew two pinches of this into a tea and drink it. If you're in a hurry, use cold water, but the effect will be less pronounced. Don't use more than two pinches per day or you'll get the shakes. **[I like the sense of medical knowledge she's showing here. That is a nice, and unusual, addition to the world.] Any questions?" She put the herbs into a small sewn bag and looked up at him.
"How much?"
"Two packets of salt, sir."**[hm, alternate currency - cool. I'm not sure how far we are from the sea, since only "quay" has told me anything about the possible nearness of water to this location. I'd be surprised to see salt as currency so close to the sea where people could make their own, but maybe there's a larger political group in the area which has established the use of this currency.]
The Ferrican dropped the packets into her hand and took the bag. He glanced from Ruri to Athneh and then their husbands in the small boats tied up behind them.**[wow, I'm revising my sense of Athneh's age here, and also my sense of the nearness of water! I really like the gender-relations and culture information in this though.] "Be careful, fish-kin. The Kemete have cut off negotiations with the City. **[I link this with Kemetian, the language he spoke, through grammar, but I have little sense of who these people are, or where.] Everyone's waiting to see what they do next."
Ruri opened her mouth, Athneh went to elbow her, and a horn from the City walls **[I am guessing they are outside the City at this time.] made them both jump. Athneh whipped her head around to see the sentry on the south wall, facing the coast of Kemet across the strait,**[oh, so Kemet is not far away. I still can't figure out where they are relative to the walls, though this seems to indicate they're probably inside.] wind his bronze horn a second time. The Ferrican ran off. **[Does she have a guess as to his purpose or where he might go?]
"Quickly!" called Jorlath from the boat he shared with Ruri. "We've got to get out of here!"**[I see his fear. It might be nice to have a sense of what kind of place he thinks is safer.]
Ruri, gone almost as pale as the Ferrican, began to roll up her weavings without a word.
Brin said mildly from the other boat,**[Is it not Athneh's boat?] "Perhaps it would be better to stay within the walls."**[Oh, so they are inside the walls?]
Athneh shivered. The very idea made the City seem smaller, despite the whitewashed buildings that rose three or even four storeys. **[I wish I'd seen some of this earlier, because it's hard for me to orient to her idea of changing locations when I don't have the location firmly established already.] She had always liked the gentle curves of the walls and roofs, the window-boxes overflowing with flowers from the Islands and the river delta of Kemet**[Is this where the flowers are from? Somehow I put it as something she liked (i.e. I guessed it was in the main clause not the subordinate clause] and beyond, but now all she wanted was to be on the open water that surrounded the City. **[This makes me wonder how far it is, and why it would be better to be there than within the walls. Potentially cool insight into her thinking, but I'm not quite able to tie it down.]
***
First of all, let me thank Siri for submitting - thanks, Siri! I liked a lot of things about this piece, as you can see. You're ambitious here, giving us a lot of social groups, affiliations, potential strife, insult, etc. all of which is good. What I did find, though, was that I was doing a lot of hopping about from one piece of new information to the next, wishing for more orientation, more description, more detail (I felt disoriented quite early, certainly by the time the Ferrican spoke in Kemetian). I don't think that it's a question of just adding more, however, because it would be easy for the storyline of a potential attack on the city to be lost in a flood of details. What I'd like to see is a stronger sense of alignment with Athneh. So that her reactions don't seem extreme and so that your explanations don't feel external to her, I'd like to see you get closer to her, and try to put things in terms of her awareness of insiders and outsiders. Okay, so she's sitting on a quay calling out her wares, herbs from the fish-kin. But is the quay her home territory? Is it familiar to her? And are the fish-kin her people? Just placing an adjective or two, giving us a detail about the nearness of the water being comforting to her, though the walls make her feel hemmed in, for example - that would do a whole lot to show her identity and ground her judgments of the things around her.
She would react to the Ferrican in accordance with how her people view Ferricans - I'd like to know whether a Ferrican is a type of City-dweller, such as a member of the military, or a traveler from a foreign land which might have an independent reputation in the eyes of fish-kin. The language Kemetian threw me off - why would he be speaking it? Because it's a lingua franca? Because he's been sent by Kemetians? What would Athneh guess about him? She'd certainly have a strong emotional reaction if she's hearing the language of the enemy, particularly if speaking Kemetian is unusual. The reference to Islanders comes out of the blue, since there are no Islanders here and I'm not sure how they are relevant to the larger conflict; I'm thinking the whole insult sequence might be left out of this piece and saved for sometime later. We aren't grounded enough in Athneh's worldview at this point for her sense of insult to strike us naturally; instead I'm feeling like I'm being informed of the value of the insult. It could be very effective, though, if used later when I have more knowledge of the complex relations in this world.
It can often be helpful to go through and categorize everything in a scene in terms of whether it is an insider object/concept or an outsider object/concept. Particularly in an interesting situation like this where there are lots of conflicting social groups. Athneh's judgments of "mine" and "yours," of "homelike" and "foreign" can then serve as valuable signposts for the reader. You can also explore a me/you/they relation, such as having fish-kin be "we," City-dwellers "you" and Kemetians "they" (I'm not sure where the Ferrican fits into this, but you might have a better sense of that).
Please don't feel any pressure to reveal the whole picture of social complexity so early in the story. The longer the list of players, the more valuable it is to start with as few as possible, and let the main character slowly introduce us. I've dealt with this a lot, because of having a society with seven caste levels. You should have seen my readers' heads spinning when I tried to introduce them all at once! I think you've got a lot of really cool stuff here, and tons of social information to impart, so I'd really encourage you to start by orienting us to a very basic insider/outsider sense when we first meet Athneh, (I'd probably begin with fish-kin vs. City and use her judgment of physical details to help ground the location as well) and then slowly complicate it each time another person or event enters her life.
I hope you find my comments helpful. Readers, you are welcome to comment constructively below.
***
Athneh shifted position on the carpet where she sat cross-legged. "Herbs from the fish-kin!" she cried. "Healing herbs for all your ills!" Around her on the market quay, City-dwellers hurried on without stopping. It made her edgy.
A Ferrican stopped before her. She raised her eyes past the crenellated hem of his tunic to the bow in his hand. "Expecting trouble, sir?"
"I need a protection charm," he said in accented Kemetian. That wasn't exactly an answer, but it wasn't a denial, either.
Guilt warred with shame. "I...I have none, sir."
"But you're a fish-kin. Or are you an Islander trying to make a profit off fake magic?"
Athneh gasped, the insult rendering her speechless. Her people might live on the Islands too, but they weren't the same as the Islanders. Even Ferricans knew that.
Ruri leaned over from behind the weavings she had spread out next to Athneh's carpet. "She's all out of the charms you want, sir. They've been popular today."
Athneh shot her friend a grateful glance. "That's right," she said to the Ferrican. "But I have herbs to make your mind sharper and your movements faster. Would those tempt you?"
"Fine, but be quick."
Athneh blinked. Ferricans were normally chatty. She took several bunches from the assortment before her and wrapped them in a cloth. "Brew two pinches of this into a tea and drink it. If you're in a hurry, use cold water, but the effect will be less pronounced. Don't use more than two pinches per day or you'll get the shakes. Any questions?" She put the herbs into a small sewn bag and looked up at him.
"How much?"
"Two packets of salt, sir."
The Ferrican dropped the packets into her hand and took the bag. He glanced from Ruri to Athneh and then their husbands in the small boats tied up behind them. "Be careful, fish-kin. The Kemete have cut off negotiations with the City. Everyone's waiting to see what they do next."
Ruri opened her mouth, Athneh went to elbow her, and a horn from the City walls made them both jump. Athneh whipped her head around to see the sentry on the south wall, facing the coast of Kemet across the strait, wind his bronze horn a second time. The Ferrican ran off.
"Quickly!" called Jorlath from the boat he shared with Ruri. "We've got to get out of here!"
Ruri, gone almost as pale as the Ferrican, began to roll up her weavings without a word.
Brin said mildly from the other boat, "Perhaps it would be better to stay within the walls."
Athneh shivered. The very idea made the City seem smaller, despite the whitewashed buildings that rose three or even four storeys. She had always liked the gentle curves of the walls and roofs, the window-boxes overflowing with flowers from the Islands and the river delta of Kemet and beyond, but now all she wanted was to be on the open water that surrounded the City.
***
The first piece of world information we get here is the name, Athneh. Alternate-language names really establish difference fast! One word, and instantly we're not in Kansas any more - probably science fiction or fantasy. We can tell that we're not dealing with aliens or high tech pretty quickly though, because of carpet and cross-legged. The fact that our character is selling herbs and calling out her wares gives me a sense that we're dealing with lower technology, and evidence is building for a fantasy scenario. The term fish-kin also has a fantasy feel to it because if the word "kin," so I'm not surprised when we find that the herbs being sold are healing herbs for all your ills. (I should remark, though, that words like these have been used for unusually flavored sf, notably by Michael Flynn). We get our first sense of physical setting beyond the carpet and the herbs (which suggest climate) with the words market quay and City-dwellers. The word City written with a capital letter gives me some cultural information to add to that provided by the girl calling out her wares on the market quay, indicating that life here centers around a particular city (that I'll be looking to find out more about).
Next comes the word Ferrican. The ending -an suggests this is some kind of affiliation word, most likely a nationality. The crenellated hem of his tunic suggests his culture through fashion. The bow suggests military technology level. Also, Athneh uses sir to be deferential, providing social information. It's not clear how much this indicates that the Ferrican must be revered, however, because using "sir" also is natural between a merchant and customer. We get our first hint of magic with protection charm. Kemetian is clearly a language, though who it naturally belongs to is not clear. Soon the piece starts to indicate social strife between different groups, when the Ferrican accuses Athneh of being an Islander trying to make a profit off fake magic. This at the same time suggests that real magic is possible. We are told that this is a serious insult, and we see some of Athneh's ideas about what people in this world know about each other, something which continues later with Ferricans were normally chatty. The instructions for brewing the tea give hints of culture, and her description of the shakes hints about knowledge of the body in this world. The Ferrican then buys the herbs with two packets of salt, a very distinctively different form of currency.
More social information keeps coming. Soon we get husbands in the small boats tied up behind them, a glimpse of daily practices. Then politics ensues with the Kemete cutting off negotiations with the City. Toward the end of the excerpt we get a physical description of the the walls of the city, its whitewashed buildings and window-boxes, and an indication of the larger surround with river delta of Kemet.
All right. At this point I'm going to shift gears and go into my brown-marked think aloud commentary. I don't intend these to be any kind of corrections, but I'll share my thoughts and any confusion I might have.
***
Athneh **[I'm thinking fantasy here, though the language pattern isn't so traditional that I can immediately rule out sf or some world language I don't know] shifted position on the carpet where she sat cross-legged.**[Clearly she's human; if she weren't, I'd expect some hint here.] "Herbs from the fish-kin!" she cried. "Healing herbs for all your ills!" **[Calling out and selling healing herbs gives me another fantasy nudge. I'm not sure whether I'm looking at real magic yet or not.] Around her on the market quay,**[interesting location.] City-dwellers **[I think the quay is in or near the City, but I'm not sure about their precise relation] hurried on without stopping. It made her edgy.
A Ferrican **[this seems either like a nationality (first guess) or social affiliation like a monastic or military affiliation] stopped before her. She raised her eyes past the crenellated hem of his tunic **[I see him quite clearly] to the bow **[is this a fashion, or a weapon? It's not clear for another few words; an adjective might clarify this] in his hand. "Expecting trouble, sir?"**[She treats him deferentially, but this could just be because of her job, not his]
"I need a protection charm," **[so there's magic here.] he said in accented Kemetian. **[A language - but whose language? Not native for him, apparently, but it comes a bit out of the blue and makes me shift gears when I'm busy on the lookout for what "Ferrican" means.] That wasn't exactly an answer, but it wasn't a denial, either.
Guilt warred with shame. **[wow, a pretty extreme reaction to just not having what he wants. What did she do? Who could be is holding her to this standard?] "I...I have none, sir."
"But you're a fish-kin.**[oh okay. I thought she might be fish-kin, but she could just have been a merchant selling their stuff.] Or are you an Islander **[yet another social group. It's starting to give me difficulty orienting myself.] trying to make a profit off fake magic?"**[fake magic implies that real magic is possible, and interesting confirmation of the hint earlier.]
Athneh gasped, the insult rendering her speechless.**[Another extreme reaction. Athneh seems very sensitive, and I wish I had some hint, from her judgment, of why this was such an insult. Otherwise it feels like we're being handed the information that this should be offensive.] Her people might live on the Islands too, but they weren't the same as the Islanders. Even Ferricans knew that.**[This goes a little way toward fixing my sense of who the Islanders are, but I still know nothing about them to back up her sense of insult. I do get the hint that she doesn't think too highly of Ferricans, though.]
Ruri leaned over from behind the weavings she had spread out next to Athneh's carpet. **[Oh, so she's not alone here. Is this a friend, or just a fellow merchant? It's not clear.] "She's all out of the charms you want, sir. They've been popular today." **[I'm not sure if she's telling the truth, because of the way Athneh reacted.]
Athneh shot her friend **[oh, a friend.] a grateful glance. "That's right," she said to the Ferrican. "But I have herbs to make your mind sharper and your movements faster. Would those tempt you?"**[I wonder why she didn't go straight to this, rather than admitting she didn't have what he wanted. It makes her come across as less experienced as an herb-seller. Is she very young?]
"Fine, but be quick."
Athneh blinked. Ferricans were normally chatty. **[This one has already been established as rude, so I'm not sure why she'd be surprised here.] She took several bunches from the assortment before her and wrapped them in a cloth. "Brew two pinches of this into a tea and drink it. If you're in a hurry, use cold water, but the effect will be less pronounced. Don't use more than two pinches per day or you'll get the shakes. **[I like the sense of medical knowledge she's showing here. That is a nice, and unusual, addition to the world.] Any questions?" She put the herbs into a small sewn bag and looked up at him.
"How much?"
"Two packets of salt, sir."**[hm, alternate currency - cool. I'm not sure how far we are from the sea, since only "quay" has told me anything about the possible nearness of water to this location. I'd be surprised to see salt as currency so close to the sea where people could make their own, but maybe there's a larger political group in the area which has established the use of this currency.]
The Ferrican dropped the packets into her hand and took the bag. He glanced from Ruri to Athneh and then their husbands in the small boats tied up behind them.**[wow, I'm revising my sense of Athneh's age here, and also my sense of the nearness of water! I really like the gender-relations and culture information in this though.] "Be careful, fish-kin. The Kemete have cut off negotiations with the City. **[I link this with Kemetian, the language he spoke, through grammar, but I have little sense of who these people are, or where.] Everyone's waiting to see what they do next."
Ruri opened her mouth, Athneh went to elbow her, and a horn from the City walls **[I am guessing they are outside the City at this time.] made them both jump. Athneh whipped her head around to see the sentry on the south wall, facing the coast of Kemet across the strait,**[oh, so Kemet is not far away. I still can't figure out where they are relative to the walls, though this seems to indicate they're probably inside.] wind his bronze horn a second time. The Ferrican ran off. **[Does she have a guess as to his purpose or where he might go?]
"Quickly!" called Jorlath from the boat he shared with Ruri. "We've got to get out of here!"**[I see his fear. It might be nice to have a sense of what kind of place he thinks is safer.]
Ruri, gone almost as pale as the Ferrican, began to roll up her weavings without a word.
Brin said mildly from the other boat,**[Is it not Athneh's boat?] "Perhaps it would be better to stay within the walls."**[Oh, so they are inside the walls?]
Athneh shivered. The very idea made the City seem smaller, despite the whitewashed buildings that rose three or even four storeys. **[I wish I'd seen some of this earlier, because it's hard for me to orient to her idea of changing locations when I don't have the location firmly established already.] She had always liked the gentle curves of the walls and roofs, the window-boxes overflowing with flowers from the Islands and the river delta of Kemet**[Is this where the flowers are from? Somehow I put it as something she liked (i.e. I guessed it was in the main clause not the subordinate clause] and beyond, but now all she wanted was to be on the open water that surrounded the City. **[This makes me wonder how far it is, and why it would be better to be there than within the walls. Potentially cool insight into her thinking, but I'm not quite able to tie it down.]
***
First of all, let me thank Siri for submitting - thanks, Siri! I liked a lot of things about this piece, as you can see. You're ambitious here, giving us a lot of social groups, affiliations, potential strife, insult, etc. all of which is good. What I did find, though, was that I was doing a lot of hopping about from one piece of new information to the next, wishing for more orientation, more description, more detail (I felt disoriented quite early, certainly by the time the Ferrican spoke in Kemetian). I don't think that it's a question of just adding more, however, because it would be easy for the storyline of a potential attack on the city to be lost in a flood of details. What I'd like to see is a stronger sense of alignment with Athneh. So that her reactions don't seem extreme and so that your explanations don't feel external to her, I'd like to see you get closer to her, and try to put things in terms of her awareness of insiders and outsiders. Okay, so she's sitting on a quay calling out her wares, herbs from the fish-kin. But is the quay her home territory? Is it familiar to her? And are the fish-kin her people? Just placing an adjective or two, giving us a detail about the nearness of the water being comforting to her, though the walls make her feel hemmed in, for example - that would do a whole lot to show her identity and ground her judgments of the things around her.
She would react to the Ferrican in accordance with how her people view Ferricans - I'd like to know whether a Ferrican is a type of City-dweller, such as a member of the military, or a traveler from a foreign land which might have an independent reputation in the eyes of fish-kin. The language Kemetian threw me off - why would he be speaking it? Because it's a lingua franca? Because he's been sent by Kemetians? What would Athneh guess about him? She'd certainly have a strong emotional reaction if she's hearing the language of the enemy, particularly if speaking Kemetian is unusual. The reference to Islanders comes out of the blue, since there are no Islanders here and I'm not sure how they are relevant to the larger conflict; I'm thinking the whole insult sequence might be left out of this piece and saved for sometime later. We aren't grounded enough in Athneh's worldview at this point for her sense of insult to strike us naturally; instead I'm feeling like I'm being informed of the value of the insult. It could be very effective, though, if used later when I have more knowledge of the complex relations in this world.
It can often be helpful to go through and categorize everything in a scene in terms of whether it is an insider object/concept or an outsider object/concept. Particularly in an interesting situation like this where there are lots of conflicting social groups. Athneh's judgments of "mine" and "yours," of "homelike" and "foreign" can then serve as valuable signposts for the reader. You can also explore a me/you/they relation, such as having fish-kin be "we," City-dwellers "you" and Kemetians "they" (I'm not sure where the Ferrican fits into this, but you might have a better sense of that).
Please don't feel any pressure to reveal the whole picture of social complexity so early in the story. The longer the list of players, the more valuable it is to start with as few as possible, and let the main character slowly introduce us. I've dealt with this a lot, because of having a society with seven caste levels. You should have seen my readers' heads spinning when I tried to introduce them all at once! I think you've got a lot of really cool stuff here, and tons of social information to impart, so I'd really encourage you to start by orienting us to a very basic insider/outsider sense when we first meet Athneh, (I'd probably begin with fish-kin vs. City and use her judgment of physical details to help ground the location as well) and then slowly complicate it each time another person or event enters her life.
I hope you find my comments helpful. Readers, you are welcome to comment constructively below.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Wednesday Worldbuilding Workshop: Ambiguity and Anchoring in Fantasy Contexts
Welcome to week 12 of the Wednesday Worldbuilding Workshop! This week's entry comes from Lexie. Thanks for submitting! As I generally do, I'll begin by highlighting in blue all the words that I use to pick up worldbuilding information, and directly following the excerpt, I'll talk about how those words give me entry into the world.
***
The night that Al'sea was found, the journey Priestess Cen'sea had already traveled more than two days in the blistering cold to reach her destination. The fact that she saw Al'sea at all was something of a miracle; the child's pure white skin, bone white hair and white shift blended perfectly with the mounds of snow pushed aside along the path. If a stray beam of moonlight had not glinted off of the strange silver dots above Al'sea's left eyebrow, Cen'sea was sure the child would have stayed in the drift until the spring.
Luck was Al'sea's pup that night however and what Cen'sea thought to be some trader's lost wares turned out to be a lost waif, barely breathing and cold as ice. Praising Cina for her mercy, Cen'sea grabbed her blanket from her traveling pack and hurriedly wrapped the child in it.
"Call me Moon-crossed but you weigh little more than a chick child," Cen'sea murmured, rubbing her back as she hefted her upwards. “Kalyea will see to it that you are put to rights, you shall see,” she continued, naming the Healer conjured images of a warm room and company. “If I do not get us lost that is,” she added wryly.
The wind picked up in ferocity as Cen’sea struggled through the deepening snow and deeper shadows. Where the Northern Citadel lay, dense forest grew all around, eclipsing the moon everywhere but at the Citadel itself. Perfect for protection, less perfect for winter season traveling. Later, when relating the story to the High Priestess Cen’sea would thoughtfully linger on the fact that moonlight had been what guided her to the child in the first place.
As she made her way, certain the Citadel was little more than a few more steps in the right direction, Cen’sea whispered to the child. Lullabies from where she grew up, farther west where the Great Northern River lay. When those ran out, she recited winter season devotionals from her novice years at the Citadel. “Though I find these as boring now as I did then little one,” she said with a sharp bark of laughter.
Occasionally the child stirred, murmuring incomprehensively before burrowing further into the blanket and Cen’sea’s shoulder. Cen’sea would adjust her weight then, and scan the horizon for signs of the Citadel’s gates.
Thus far she had managed to follow the path mostly by feel and by locating each glowing orb that marked the path to the Citadel. The orbs never went out, never faltered or flickered, but burned a dull blueish light all around the clock to guide travelers to their destination no matter the time or season. They were known as the Orbs of Cina and only the High Priestess knew how to make them work.
***
We open with "night", which gives us orientation to the basic fact that we're on a planet, but the biggest opening hint to our location is the name "Al'sea" which speaks instantly of a fantasy world. The reader's job then becomes learning more about that world. "Journey Priestess Cen'sea" appears to be a title, giving us a sense that there is religion here, and that it is associated with a degree of social organization. We get climate and seasonal weather information from "blistering cold." The word "miracle" confirms the presence of religion and also clarifies some of its qualities (i.e. the possibility of a particular type of divine intervention). I also get important information from "child's pure white skin, bone white hair and white shift," though I'm not certain how broadly these characteristics would be seen among the local population. Since Al'sea is being found, not born,we don't know yet if her coloration is bizarre and atypical or relatively normal. "Mounds of snow" fits with the blistering cold, and "path" tells us that we're not dealing with an extensive system of roads (it suggests the possibility of medieval technology). Thereafter we get some further clarification of the world when Cen'sea says "praise Cina for her mercy" and when we see the description of the "Northern Citadel" and the forest around it. Interesting information suggesting culture comes from such phrases as "Moon-crossed" and "put to rights." Also intriguing were the "winter season devotionals" which suggest more about the religion she follows.
At this point I'm going to do my think-aloud read through the piece, marking my comments in brown. I don't intend these to be corrections, though I will point out any places where I was confused.
***
The night that Al'sea **[I think it's good to have fantasy names early, because it gets us looking around for the clues we need to understand the world.] was found, the journey Priestess Cen'sea **[This was the first point where I got confused, and I think it was for two reasons: one, the similarity between Cen'sea's name and Al'sea's name (and the fact that I'm not sure which we're following more closely at this point), and two, the fact that on first read-through I had read "journey" as the subject of the sentence, and not as part of the Priestess' title.] had already traveled more than two days in the blistering cold **[this is nice and tangible!] to reach her destination.**[So has she reached her destination at this point? It's not clear.] The fact that she saw Al'sea at all was something of a miracle**[I wonder if the intervention of gods in this world will be simply referred to, or actually witnessed]; the child's pure white skin, bone white hair and white shift**[I wonder how Cen'sea judges this - is it normal for people? I'm guessing not, but there's no indication of exactly how unusual her coloration is.] blended perfectly with the mounds of snow pushed aside along the path **[ah, so we don't have roads. This pushes me a bit towards a medieval technology model]. If a stray beam of moonlight had not glinted off of the strange silver dots above Al'sea's left eyebrow **[This stands out as a "special mark" and makes me access my "finding the chosen one" plot model.], Cen'sea was sure the child would have stayed in the drift until the spring.**[I was a little unclear on whether this meant the child would actually have survived the experience. Probably not, but when magic is in a world, more things are possible.]
Luck was Al'sea's pup **[This is a really interesting expression, but given that it's not being used directly "luck was my/her pup" I had trouble parsing it when I first read it, and wondered what pups had to do with the scenario in the snow.] that night however and what Cen'sea thought to be some trader's lost wares **[I like this hint of the economy.] turned out to be a lost waif, barely breathing and cold as ice. Praising Cina for her mercy, **[I like that we see reference to Cen'sea's deity here.] Cen'sea grabbed her blanket from her traveling pack **[This is fun because it talks about technology and also how simple a priestess' belongings are.] and hurriedly wrapped the child in it.
"Call me Moon-crossed **[I like this phrase. I wonder how it relates to her beliefs.] but you weigh little more than a chick child,"**[The "chick" suggests this world's animals. The way she talks makes me guess her older instinctively, though I'm not sure how old she is (old, or just mature).] Cen'sea murmured, rubbing her back as she hefted her upwards. “Kalyea will see to it that you are put to rights, you shall see,”**[The lack of contractions stands out here. Perhaps it is priestly formality.] she continued,**[the joining of these two sentences confused me a bit] naming the Healer conjured images of a warm room and company. “If I do not get us lost that is,” she added wryly.**[I didn't realize until this point that there was any danger of being lost. I thought she was all but arrived.]
The wind picked up in ferocity as Cen’sea struggled through the deepening snow and deeper shadows. Where the Northern Citadel lay, dense forest grew all around,**[I like this sense of the area but I'm not sure whether Cen'sea is currently in the forest, since I haven't seen her remark on trees.] eclipsing the moon **[eclipsing is so specific that I wonder if it is really happening; I think more likely the moon is hidden by the trees. Is it hidden to Cen'sea?] everywhere but at the Citadel itself. Perfect for protection, less perfect for winter season traveling. Later, when relating the story to the High Priestess Cen’sea would thoughtfully linger on the fact that moonlight had been what guided her to the child in the first place.**[Oh, so are we leaving the scene of the child's discovery?]
As she made her way, certain the Citadel was little more than a few more steps in the right direction,**[I hadn't had the impression to this point that she was feeling lost.] Cen’sea whispered to the child. Lullabies from where she grew up, farther west where the Great Northern River lay. **[I really like this. It reveals character as well as world culture and geography.] When those ran out, she recited winter season devotionals from her novice years at the Citadel. **[This is lovely too.]“Though I find these as boring now as I did then little one,” she said with a sharp bark of laughter.
Occasionally the child stirred, murmuring incomprehensively before burrowing further into the blanket and Cen’sea’s shoulder. Cen’sea would adjust her weight then, and scan the horizon for signs of the Citadel’s gates.**[I like this hint of the Citadel architecture, but I'm still wondering if she's in the forest or not. Surely if she were, she wouldn't see the horizon?]
Thus far she had managed to follow the path mostly by feel and by locating each glowing orb that marked the path to the Citadel.**[If she's lost, there must not be many of these. I wonder why not.] The orbs never went out, never faltered or flickered, but burned a dull blueish light all around the clock **[this is a nice piece of world information saying that they use clocks as well as magic] to guide travelers to their destination no matter the time or season.**[I like this also because it suggests seasons are meaningful to these people, as well as just time.] They were known as the Orbs of Cina and only the High Priestess knew how to make them work.**[I'd like to have a little hint here of what Cen'sea thinks of them. That they are amazing? That she wants to learn how to make them work? That there are too few?]
***
I really like a lot of what is going on in this piece. I particularly like how much social and other information (like the clocks) is coming in with the language used. What I'm having trouble with is anchoring on the local level because of (very few) points of ambiguity in the text, like the priestess' title, and because I can't be quite certain how Cen'sea's position relates to more general information about the location (like the forest and the orbs). The fantasy context is a lot of fun to work with but has disadvantages for a writer because of the sheer number of possibilities available. Thus, our sense of the fantasy world can come into play very quickly, but from that point on we're looking for specific types of anchors to tell us things like whether magic or deities are actively at work in the world, what kind of technology is being used, etc. The possibility of events outside the normal can create ambiguities about what is going on - ambiguities that would not exist if we had an established real-world context. Thus, part of the challenge of working with fantasy worlds is not just opening doors into possible avenues, but also closing them (usually, closing more than we open!).
Thanks again for submitting, Lexie, and for your patience - I hope you find my comments helpful.
I welcome any constructive comments.
***
The night that Al'sea was found, the journey Priestess Cen'sea had already traveled more than two days in the blistering cold to reach her destination. The fact that she saw Al'sea at all was something of a miracle; the child's pure white skin, bone white hair and white shift blended perfectly with the mounds of snow pushed aside along the path. If a stray beam of moonlight had not glinted off of the strange silver dots above Al'sea's left eyebrow, Cen'sea was sure the child would have stayed in the drift until the spring.
Luck was Al'sea's pup that night however and what Cen'sea thought to be some trader's lost wares turned out to be a lost waif, barely breathing and cold as ice. Praising Cina for her mercy, Cen'sea grabbed her blanket from her traveling pack and hurriedly wrapped the child in it.
"Call me Moon-crossed but you weigh little more than a chick child," Cen'sea murmured, rubbing her back as she hefted her upwards. “Kalyea will see to it that you are put to rights, you shall see,” she continued, naming the Healer conjured images of a warm room and company. “If I do not get us lost that is,” she added wryly.
The wind picked up in ferocity as Cen’sea struggled through the deepening snow and deeper shadows. Where the Northern Citadel lay, dense forest grew all around, eclipsing the moon everywhere but at the Citadel itself. Perfect for protection, less perfect for winter season traveling. Later, when relating the story to the High Priestess Cen’sea would thoughtfully linger on the fact that moonlight had been what guided her to the child in the first place.
As she made her way, certain the Citadel was little more than a few more steps in the right direction, Cen’sea whispered to the child. Lullabies from where she grew up, farther west where the Great Northern River lay. When those ran out, she recited winter season devotionals from her novice years at the Citadel. “Though I find these as boring now as I did then little one,” she said with a sharp bark of laughter.
Occasionally the child stirred, murmuring incomprehensively before burrowing further into the blanket and Cen’sea’s shoulder. Cen’sea would adjust her weight then, and scan the horizon for signs of the Citadel’s gates.
Thus far she had managed to follow the path mostly by feel and by locating each glowing orb that marked the path to the Citadel. The orbs never went out, never faltered or flickered, but burned a dull blueish light all around the clock to guide travelers to their destination no matter the time or season. They were known as the Orbs of Cina and only the High Priestess knew how to make them work.
***
We open with "night", which gives us orientation to the basic fact that we're on a planet, but the biggest opening hint to our location is the name "Al'sea" which speaks instantly of a fantasy world. The reader's job then becomes learning more about that world. "Journey Priestess Cen'sea" appears to be a title, giving us a sense that there is religion here, and that it is associated with a degree of social organization. We get climate and seasonal weather information from "blistering cold." The word "miracle" confirms the presence of religion and also clarifies some of its qualities (i.e. the possibility of a particular type of divine intervention). I also get important information from "child's pure white skin, bone white hair and white shift," though I'm not certain how broadly these characteristics would be seen among the local population. Since Al'sea is being found, not born,we don't know yet if her coloration is bizarre and atypical or relatively normal. "Mounds of snow" fits with the blistering cold, and "path" tells us that we're not dealing with an extensive system of roads (it suggests the possibility of medieval technology). Thereafter we get some further clarification of the world when Cen'sea says "praise Cina for her mercy" and when we see the description of the "Northern Citadel" and the forest around it. Interesting information suggesting culture comes from such phrases as "Moon-crossed" and "put to rights." Also intriguing were the "winter season devotionals" which suggest more about the religion she follows.
At this point I'm going to do my think-aloud read through the piece, marking my comments in brown. I don't intend these to be corrections, though I will point out any places where I was confused.
***
The night that Al'sea **[I think it's good to have fantasy names early, because it gets us looking around for the clues we need to understand the world.] was found, the journey Priestess Cen'sea **[This was the first point where I got confused, and I think it was for two reasons: one, the similarity between Cen'sea's name and Al'sea's name (and the fact that I'm not sure which we're following more closely at this point), and two, the fact that on first read-through I had read "journey" as the subject of the sentence, and not as part of the Priestess' title.] had already traveled more than two days in the blistering cold **[this is nice and tangible!] to reach her destination.**[So has she reached her destination at this point? It's not clear.] The fact that she saw Al'sea at all was something of a miracle**[I wonder if the intervention of gods in this world will be simply referred to, or actually witnessed]; the child's pure white skin, bone white hair and white shift**[I wonder how Cen'sea judges this - is it normal for people? I'm guessing not, but there's no indication of exactly how unusual her coloration is.] blended perfectly with the mounds of snow pushed aside along the path **[ah, so we don't have roads. This pushes me a bit towards a medieval technology model]. If a stray beam of moonlight had not glinted off of the strange silver dots above Al'sea's left eyebrow **[This stands out as a "special mark" and makes me access my "finding the chosen one" plot model.], Cen'sea was sure the child would have stayed in the drift until the spring.**[I was a little unclear on whether this meant the child would actually have survived the experience. Probably not, but when magic is in a world, more things are possible.]
Luck was Al'sea's pup **[This is a really interesting expression, but given that it's not being used directly "luck was my/her pup" I had trouble parsing it when I first read it, and wondered what pups had to do with the scenario in the snow.] that night however and what Cen'sea thought to be some trader's lost wares **[I like this hint of the economy.] turned out to be a lost waif, barely breathing and cold as ice. Praising Cina for her mercy, **[I like that we see reference to Cen'sea's deity here.] Cen'sea grabbed her blanket from her traveling pack **[This is fun because it talks about technology and also how simple a priestess' belongings are.] and hurriedly wrapped the child in it.
"Call me Moon-crossed **[I like this phrase. I wonder how it relates to her beliefs.] but you weigh little more than a chick child,"**[The "chick" suggests this world's animals. The way she talks makes me guess her older instinctively, though I'm not sure how old she is (old, or just mature).] Cen'sea murmured, rubbing her back as she hefted her upwards. “Kalyea will see to it that you are put to rights, you shall see,”**[The lack of contractions stands out here. Perhaps it is priestly formality.] she continued,**[the joining of these two sentences confused me a bit] naming the Healer conjured images of a warm room and company. “If I do not get us lost that is,” she added wryly.**[I didn't realize until this point that there was any danger of being lost. I thought she was all but arrived.]
The wind picked up in ferocity as Cen’sea struggled through the deepening snow and deeper shadows. Where the Northern Citadel lay, dense forest grew all around,**[I like this sense of the area but I'm not sure whether Cen'sea is currently in the forest, since I haven't seen her remark on trees.] eclipsing the moon **[eclipsing is so specific that I wonder if it is really happening; I think more likely the moon is hidden by the trees. Is it hidden to Cen'sea?] everywhere but at the Citadel itself. Perfect for protection, less perfect for winter season traveling. Later, when relating the story to the High Priestess Cen’sea would thoughtfully linger on the fact that moonlight had been what guided her to the child in the first place.**[Oh, so are we leaving the scene of the child's discovery?]
As she made her way, certain the Citadel was little more than a few more steps in the right direction,**[I hadn't had the impression to this point that she was feeling lost.] Cen’sea whispered to the child. Lullabies from where she grew up, farther west where the Great Northern River lay. **[I really like this. It reveals character as well as world culture and geography.] When those ran out, she recited winter season devotionals from her novice years at the Citadel. **[This is lovely too.]“Though I find these as boring now as I did then little one,” she said with a sharp bark of laughter.
Occasionally the child stirred, murmuring incomprehensively before burrowing further into the blanket and Cen’sea’s shoulder. Cen’sea would adjust her weight then, and scan the horizon for signs of the Citadel’s gates.**[I like this hint of the Citadel architecture, but I'm still wondering if she's in the forest or not. Surely if she were, she wouldn't see the horizon?]
Thus far she had managed to follow the path mostly by feel and by locating each glowing orb that marked the path to the Citadel.**[If she's lost, there must not be many of these. I wonder why not.] The orbs never went out, never faltered or flickered, but burned a dull blueish light all around the clock **[this is a nice piece of world information saying that they use clocks as well as magic] to guide travelers to their destination no matter the time or season.**[I like this also because it suggests seasons are meaningful to these people, as well as just time.] They were known as the Orbs of Cina and only the High Priestess knew how to make them work.**[I'd like to have a little hint here of what Cen'sea thinks of them. That they are amazing? That she wants to learn how to make them work? That there are too few?]
***
I really like a lot of what is going on in this piece. I particularly like how much social and other information (like the clocks) is coming in with the language used. What I'm having trouble with is anchoring on the local level because of (very few) points of ambiguity in the text, like the priestess' title, and because I can't be quite certain how Cen'sea's position relates to more general information about the location (like the forest and the orbs). The fantasy context is a lot of fun to work with but has disadvantages for a writer because of the sheer number of possibilities available. Thus, our sense of the fantasy world can come into play very quickly, but from that point on we're looking for specific types of anchors to tell us things like whether magic or deities are actively at work in the world, what kind of technology is being used, etc. The possibility of events outside the normal can create ambiguities about what is going on - ambiguities that would not exist if we had an established real-world context. Thus, part of the challenge of working with fantasy worlds is not just opening doors into possible avenues, but also closing them (usually, closing more than we open!).
Thanks again for submitting, Lexie, and for your patience - I hope you find my comments helpful.
I welcome any constructive comments.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Wednesday Worldbuilding Workshop: Aligning "Ordinary" Judgment
Welcome to week 11 of the Wednesday Worldbuilding Workshop! This week's entry comes from Megs. Thanks for submitting! As I generally do, I'll begin by highlighting in blue all the words that I use to pick up worldbuilding information, and directly following the excerpt, I'll talk about how those words give me entry into the world.
***
The alchemist was a little old man tottering about his snug, comfortable little house at the edge of the village. It was a mountain cabin, quite ordinary, except of course for the lush foliage growing just outside his front door, come rain or shine, snowy winter or burning summer, and except for the garden back behind his house with the trees that never dropped their leaves or lost their chittering squirrel residents. Aside from these simple, reasonable differences, there was rather nothing out of the ordinary about his cabin and his fireplace and his stacks of wood and his cheerful elderly face, remarkably free from wrinkles, and his white hair and his carved wooden cane and the general way he went about his business among the common folk.
On a rather ordinary autumn day, when the leaves were just beginning to fall throughout the village and up the red and golden slopes of the short balding mountain rising to the north, something extraordinary happened. The village children stopped their play, clutching dolls and small iron horses in their hands, to gape at the real horse stepping now onto their dusty road. The village mothers ceased their chattering gossip and weaving and kneading and general busyness to stare at the magnificent embroidered cloak of the rider. The village fathers set down their mugs of brew and their records and their pounding hammers and warily eyed the noble's disdainful expression. The young men stopped beating the bellows and running about on errands to instead follow the progress of the stranger between their houses and stalls and penned enclosures toward the house of the little old man at the edge of the village with his green trees not turned to gold and his bushy roses and apples still giving off the scent of summer.
This was not an ordinary thing at all. Nobility, especially men, did not show up in little mountain villages supported by ironwork and copper. They did not ride down the center of the village with attention only to spare for the village alchemist. In fact, they did not visit alchemists at all!
Needless to say, the children and mothers and fathers and young men and young women gathered about the old man's house to see what would happen. The young noble with his disdainful look and his fabulous cloak paid them no heed as he dismounted from his fine horse and strode up to the door of the mountain cabin and knocked.
The villagers could hear the puttering of the little man's feet and the tapping of his cane, then the turning of the copper knob on his door. The door opened larger than a crack, but smaller than a welcome, and the alchemist's white head poked around the edge of the door.
"May I help you?"
The noble wasted no time. "I am told you are an alchemist." He paused dramatically. "A successful one."
The alchemist squinted up into the noble's face. "I am."
***
This one sets us in its world rather quickly with the idiosyncratic word, "alchemist." When I hear this word I think of a particular era and type of magic system as well. It's a word so specific it carries a lot of specific baggage. The fact that he is a little old man doesn't surprise me, but the worldbuilding information in this phrase is more about the type of story voice and less about location. Location comes from the snug, comfortable little house and the word village. We get further clarification from the words mountain cabin, and a visual picture that comes from the lush foliage. Climate information is given in the description of the plants, with rain or shine, snowy winter or burning summer. We get even more about the physical locale with the trees that never dropped their leaves and the squirrels. The first social information we get comes from the words common folk, which suggests we're in a world with both common and uncommon folk. Though I find "alchemist" very specific, it's not so specific to an urban environment (which is what first comes up for me) that I don't easily accept the more rural description that follows.
Those are my thoughts on initial world entry. At this point I'm going to do my traditional think-aloud, by going through the excerpt again and this time inserting my comments in brown.
***
The alchemist **[I get a lot right here; now to test it.] was a little old man **[sounds rather fairytale-like] tottering about his snug, comfortable little house at the edge of the village.**[This fits with the fairytale model; interesting that the alchemist is not in a more urban environment.] It was a mountain cabin, quite ordinary**[This sticks out, because since mountain cabins are not ordinary to me, I'm expecting a world-situated evaluation of what is normal and what is not.], except of course for the lush foliage growing just outside his front door, come rain or shine, snowy winter or burning summer,**[so he's using magic to grow plants. This is not normal even for me!] and except for the garden back behind his house with the trees that never dropped their leaves **[this indicates I should expect trees that would ordinarily lose their leaves, so gives me a hint of what I might find in the surrounding area.] or lost their chittering squirrel residents. **[Do the squirrels of the nearby area move away? Hmm...] Aside from these simple, reasonable differences,**[are these reasonable differences? Since they're not reasonable for me, I start wondering who exactly they're reasonable for.] there was rather nothing out of the ordinary about his cabin and his fireplace and his stacks of wood and his cheerful elderly **[this is a more modern expression and surprised me after "little old man" earlier] face, remarkably free from wrinkles, and his white hair and his carved wooden cane **[much personality here] and the general way he went about his business among the common folk.**[Ah, so we have at least two strata of people, common and uncommon. I'll be looking to learn more.]
On a rather ordinary autumn day**[we have "ordinary" again, so I immediately expect something to happen which is not ordinary.], when the leaves were just beginning to fall throughout the village and up the red and golden slopes of the short balding mountain**[Is it balding because leaves are falling?] rising to the north, something extraordinary happened. The village children **[ah, we have people] stopped their play, clutching dolls and small iron horses **[nice indicators of common technology] in their hands, to gape at the real horse **[this is interesting. Are horses rare? Or is it the type of horse that would stand out?] stepping now onto their dusty road. **[I conclude that the village is unpaved, not even with stones.] The village mothers ceased their chattering gossip and weaving and kneading and general busyness **[This expresses what is normal behavior for women in this place] to stare at the magnificent embroidered cloak of the rider.**[The cloak suggests technology and art and also the rarity of such skills, so it does a lot here.] The village fathers set down their mugs of brew and their records**[what does this mean?] and their pounding hammers and warily eyed the noble's **[So there are noblemen, not just rich men. This is interesting social information, and clarifies the earlier reference to "common folk."] disdainful expression. The young men stopped beating the bellows and running about on errands **[so this is what is normal for young men] to instead follow the progress of the stranger between their houses and stalls and penned enclosures **[more details of what is in the village.] toward the house of the little old man at the edge of the village with his green trees not turned to gold and his bushy roses and apples **[this world is obviously linked to our own because of these, and because of the earlier squirrels.] still giving off the scent of summer.
This was not an ordinary thing at all.**[There is the word ordinary again!] Nobility, especially men, **[this makes me wonder if noble women would be more expected in a village like this. I also wonder why that would be the case.] did not show up in little mountain villages supported by ironwork and copper. **[You're giving us a heck of a lot of information about the village, using an omniscient narrator, or at least someone who doesn't give a special slant to the things they describe.] They did not ride down the center of the village with attention only to spare for the village alchemist. **[is this what he was doing? or not?] In fact, they did not visit alchemists at all!
Needless to say,**[another flag for what is normal] the children and mothers and fathers and young men and young women gathered about the old man's house to see what would happen. The young noble with his disdainful look and his fabulous cloak paid them no heed as he dismounted from his fine horse **[you have a rhythmic repetition here, three adj+noun combinations in what the noble has] and strode up to the door of the mountain cabin and knocked.
The villagers could hear the puttering of the little man's feet and the tapping of his cane, then the turning of the copper knob on his door.**[Interesting architectural detail. Definitely omnsicient, since the narrator knows what everyone heard] The door opened larger than a crack, but smaller than a welcome, **[this holds a lot of cultural information. I wonder if these are the same values I would have for this.] and the alchemist's white head poked around the edge of the door.
"May I help you?"**[He does not know this man, and furthermore, he has no respect for nobility; there's no recognition here of the nobleman's stature. I would expect such recognition in his speech even if the alchemist were noble himself.]
The noble wasted no time. "I am told you are an alchemist." He paused dramatically. "A successful one." **[I suspect lack of intelligence in this nobleman, or at least, he's not very observant. Otherwise he would have concluded the alchemist was successful from the look of the preternatural plants.]
The alchemist squinted up into the noble's face. "I am." **[This makes me wonder about the manners surrounding modesty in this culture, because this fellow has none.]
***
There's a lot of description of the physical setting here, and you're using an external omniscient narrator. The people who appear are, for the most part, part of the scenery. The thing that stands out for me is the repeated use of the word "ordinary" (4 times) alongside "simple," "reasonable," and "Needless to say." That word serves as a red flag because it's occurring in a relatively ungrounded narrator voice. I have a hard time being sure who the narrator is based on the judgments expressed here - and judgments are being expressed, because using ordinary/simple/reasonable/etc. suggests judgment by the narrator. If I were to suggest anything to improve the worldbuilding, it would be alignment. By that I mean, make sure all your world clues are pointing in the same direction. One example of contrast would be the early use of "little old man" and the later use of "elderly." Would a single individual use both of these to describe the same person? I can accept the idea of the village being "ordinary" to someone, but to whom would magical plants be "reasonable"? A person who has resided in the village since birth?
I'm not suggesting that you switch to a more limited narrator here. However, if you can come up with a basic identity for your narrator, you can get all the details of the description working to point readers in a single direction: the one you choose. That way you may find it easier to give readers an early sense of what conflict they'll be signing up to follow.
I welcome any constructive comments.
***
The alchemist was a little old man tottering about his snug, comfortable little house at the edge of the village. It was a mountain cabin, quite ordinary, except of course for the lush foliage growing just outside his front door, come rain or shine, snowy winter or burning summer, and except for the garden back behind his house with the trees that never dropped their leaves or lost their chittering squirrel residents. Aside from these simple, reasonable differences, there was rather nothing out of the ordinary about his cabin and his fireplace and his stacks of wood and his cheerful elderly face, remarkably free from wrinkles, and his white hair and his carved wooden cane and the general way he went about his business among the common folk.
On a rather ordinary autumn day, when the leaves were just beginning to fall throughout the village and up the red and golden slopes of the short balding mountain rising to the north, something extraordinary happened. The village children stopped their play, clutching dolls and small iron horses in their hands, to gape at the real horse stepping now onto their dusty road. The village mothers ceased their chattering gossip and weaving and kneading and general busyness to stare at the magnificent embroidered cloak of the rider. The village fathers set down their mugs of brew and their records and their pounding hammers and warily eyed the noble's disdainful expression. The young men stopped beating the bellows and running about on errands to instead follow the progress of the stranger between their houses and stalls and penned enclosures toward the house of the little old man at the edge of the village with his green trees not turned to gold and his bushy roses and apples still giving off the scent of summer.
This was not an ordinary thing at all. Nobility, especially men, did not show up in little mountain villages supported by ironwork and copper. They did not ride down the center of the village with attention only to spare for the village alchemist. In fact, they did not visit alchemists at all!
Needless to say, the children and mothers and fathers and young men and young women gathered about the old man's house to see what would happen. The young noble with his disdainful look and his fabulous cloak paid them no heed as he dismounted from his fine horse and strode up to the door of the mountain cabin and knocked.
The villagers could hear the puttering of the little man's feet and the tapping of his cane, then the turning of the copper knob on his door. The door opened larger than a crack, but smaller than a welcome, and the alchemist's white head poked around the edge of the door.
"May I help you?"
The noble wasted no time. "I am told you are an alchemist." He paused dramatically. "A successful one."
The alchemist squinted up into the noble's face. "I am."
***
This one sets us in its world rather quickly with the idiosyncratic word, "alchemist." When I hear this word I think of a particular era and type of magic system as well. It's a word so specific it carries a lot of specific baggage. The fact that he is a little old man doesn't surprise me, but the worldbuilding information in this phrase is more about the type of story voice and less about location. Location comes from the snug, comfortable little house and the word village. We get further clarification from the words mountain cabin, and a visual picture that comes from the lush foliage. Climate information is given in the description of the plants, with rain or shine, snowy winter or burning summer. We get even more about the physical locale with the trees that never dropped their leaves and the squirrels. The first social information we get comes from the words common folk, which suggests we're in a world with both common and uncommon folk. Though I find "alchemist" very specific, it's not so specific to an urban environment (which is what first comes up for me) that I don't easily accept the more rural description that follows.
Those are my thoughts on initial world entry. At this point I'm going to do my traditional think-aloud, by going through the excerpt again and this time inserting my comments in brown.
***
The alchemist **[I get a lot right here; now to test it.] was a little old man **[sounds rather fairytale-like] tottering about his snug, comfortable little house at the edge of the village.**[This fits with the fairytale model; interesting that the alchemist is not in a more urban environment.] It was a mountain cabin, quite ordinary**[This sticks out, because since mountain cabins are not ordinary to me, I'm expecting a world-situated evaluation of what is normal and what is not.], except of course for the lush foliage growing just outside his front door, come rain or shine, snowy winter or burning summer,**[so he's using magic to grow plants. This is not normal even for me!] and except for the garden back behind his house with the trees that never dropped their leaves **[this indicates I should expect trees that would ordinarily lose their leaves, so gives me a hint of what I might find in the surrounding area.] or lost their chittering squirrel residents. **[Do the squirrels of the nearby area move away? Hmm...] Aside from these simple, reasonable differences,**[are these reasonable differences? Since they're not reasonable for me, I start wondering who exactly they're reasonable for.] there was rather nothing out of the ordinary about his cabin and his fireplace and his stacks of wood and his cheerful elderly **[this is a more modern expression and surprised me after "little old man" earlier] face, remarkably free from wrinkles, and his white hair and his carved wooden cane **[much personality here] and the general way he went about his business among the common folk.**[Ah, so we have at least two strata of people, common and uncommon. I'll be looking to learn more.]
On a rather ordinary autumn day**[we have "ordinary" again, so I immediately expect something to happen which is not ordinary.], when the leaves were just beginning to fall throughout the village and up the red and golden slopes of the short balding mountain**[Is it balding because leaves are falling?] rising to the north, something extraordinary happened. The village children **[ah, we have people] stopped their play, clutching dolls and small iron horses **[nice indicators of common technology] in their hands, to gape at the real horse **[this is interesting. Are horses rare? Or is it the type of horse that would stand out?] stepping now onto their dusty road. **[I conclude that the village is unpaved, not even with stones.] The village mothers ceased their chattering gossip and weaving and kneading and general busyness **[This expresses what is normal behavior for women in this place] to stare at the magnificent embroidered cloak of the rider.**[The cloak suggests technology and art and also the rarity of such skills, so it does a lot here.] The village fathers set down their mugs of brew and their records**[what does this mean?] and their pounding hammers and warily eyed the noble's **[So there are noblemen, not just rich men. This is interesting social information, and clarifies the earlier reference to "common folk."] disdainful expression. The young men stopped beating the bellows and running about on errands **[so this is what is normal for young men] to instead follow the progress of the stranger between their houses and stalls and penned enclosures **[more details of what is in the village.] toward the house of the little old man at the edge of the village with his green trees not turned to gold and his bushy roses and apples **[this world is obviously linked to our own because of these, and because of the earlier squirrels.] still giving off the scent of summer.
This was not an ordinary thing at all.**[There is the word ordinary again!] Nobility, especially men, **[this makes me wonder if noble women would be more expected in a village like this. I also wonder why that would be the case.] did not show up in little mountain villages supported by ironwork and copper. **[You're giving us a heck of a lot of information about the village, using an omniscient narrator, or at least someone who doesn't give a special slant to the things they describe.] They did not ride down the center of the village with attention only to spare for the village alchemist. **[is this what he was doing? or not?] In fact, they did not visit alchemists at all!
Needless to say,**[another flag for what is normal] the children and mothers and fathers and young men and young women gathered about the old man's house to see what would happen. The young noble with his disdainful look and his fabulous cloak paid them no heed as he dismounted from his fine horse **[you have a rhythmic repetition here, three adj+noun combinations in what the noble has] and strode up to the door of the mountain cabin and knocked.
The villagers could hear the puttering of the little man's feet and the tapping of his cane, then the turning of the copper knob on his door.**[Interesting architectural detail. Definitely omnsicient, since the narrator knows what everyone heard] The door opened larger than a crack, but smaller than a welcome, **[this holds a lot of cultural information. I wonder if these are the same values I would have for this.] and the alchemist's white head poked around the edge of the door.
"May I help you?"**[He does not know this man, and furthermore, he has no respect for nobility; there's no recognition here of the nobleman's stature. I would expect such recognition in his speech even if the alchemist were noble himself.]
The noble wasted no time. "I am told you are an alchemist." He paused dramatically. "A successful one." **[I suspect lack of intelligence in this nobleman, or at least, he's not very observant. Otherwise he would have concluded the alchemist was successful from the look of the preternatural plants.]
The alchemist squinted up into the noble's face. "I am." **[This makes me wonder about the manners surrounding modesty in this culture, because this fellow has none.]
***
There's a lot of description of the physical setting here, and you're using an external omniscient narrator. The people who appear are, for the most part, part of the scenery. The thing that stands out for me is the repeated use of the word "ordinary" (4 times) alongside "simple," "reasonable," and "Needless to say." That word serves as a red flag because it's occurring in a relatively ungrounded narrator voice. I have a hard time being sure who the narrator is based on the judgments expressed here - and judgments are being expressed, because using ordinary/simple/reasonable/etc. suggests judgment by the narrator. If I were to suggest anything to improve the worldbuilding, it would be alignment. By that I mean, make sure all your world clues are pointing in the same direction. One example of contrast would be the early use of "little old man" and the later use of "elderly." Would a single individual use both of these to describe the same person? I can accept the idea of the village being "ordinary" to someone, but to whom would magical plants be "reasonable"? A person who has resided in the village since birth?
I'm not suggesting that you switch to a more limited narrator here. However, if you can come up with a basic identity for your narrator, you can get all the details of the description working to point readers in a single direction: the one you choose. That way you may find it easier to give readers an early sense of what conflict they'll be signing up to follow.
I welcome any constructive comments.
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