[WIP] Fizz: A Prologue (But Why is the Drum Gone?)

FriskyPiranha

Thanks for opening a narrative category, this was some fun out of the sun.

I think my weakness in writing is conflict. I wanted to work on showing it from an emotional perspective here, as Fizz only emotes effervescence during his time in The League. Fizz's kin are missing, and it hurts him, yet he spends his time drinking the drink of Bilgewater. Why?

Dropbox

I had a couple portraits of conflict muraled on my imagination. How does Fizz meet the shark summoned by chumming the waters?  Would fizz help deliver the baby of a human woman? Where does he sleep at night? Some ideas sensible, some off the wall; all valid ways to explore a character. The introduction of a character with a handful of magic going about him, just like Fizz himself, lent me some dialogue.

One of my favorite challenges in writing is an etymological one: the problem of anachronistic dialogue. How do you naturally flavor the dictionary for the time period? I prefer the moderate solution: Using about one word like "bowsprit" per paragraph, to keep them excited for the next |buzz|word and to gently remind they're in an exotic location. Those writing in the LoL universe are tested by this often, surely.

Recursion is another topic I like to think about, for the reader's comfort in the cadence. I describe Fizz's world as one of "sapphire secrets" and later comment on his emerald eyes. Patterns add a pleasing aesthetic, and of course help reduce "infinity" down to something actually written on your part.

Ugh! Talking about behind the scenes stuff. It was a struggle to do it with a straight face and an open mind. It's easy to think, "But what if it will sound like silly nonsense? Perhaps I shouldn't share how I really do things." That's an obstacle you overcome if you want your peers to get good, and when the good are helped by other good to get more good, you learn the sort of magic Kienan Lafferty teaches.

glittersparkles

The man erected the wood before him, wrapped parchment around it, and before it had settled flush, his hand was already working. He knew from experience that the ocean spray would corrupt any attempt at perfection. Like the eye of a wave, he hesitated just for a moment, then collapsed into a flowing glide. 

This is my favorite part.