So this book. I 100% intended it to be a standalone, because I didn't want to be tied to the first world I ever worked in (given that I am sure my writing will improve MASSIVELY over the first few years I'm writing). And then I started plotting and realized I had too much material for one book - it needs to be two, at least. And now I'm realizing that the world I've invented is simply too large to be explored fully in one story (or set of stories). Originally, the story was going to gallivant about from the city of Quorina to at least two or three other cultures. Now it's looking like the entire first novel is likely to take place in Quorina. This makes me sad, because it is SO MUCH FUN to explore the fruits of my worldbuilding.
So I suppose I will have to write some short stories or novellas or whatnot in addition to this. Who am I kidding? I would love to write an entire novel about a child growing up in Elatxaia.
I need to get back to my writing. I want to get another 2 pages written in the next hour. Here, have some snippets I had to excise:
- She could see now that Keranos’ fists were clenched; his perpetual scowl had deepened, if possible.
“If you two could postpone this argument until we’re in the sewer,” Luxinus added, crouching down on the floor and pulling some sort of grass blade out of a container, “that would be excellent. You’re raising your voices again.” He stuck his arm through the grate hole and wiggled the grass blade back and forth.
“You’re not the only one ever used,” Keranos said to Eritsena, and if his voice was softer, it was twice as vicious. “Do not say, northerner, just because you – because you…” He trailed off, his face twisting. Then he spat something in an unfamiliar language and snapped, “Your words are not good.”
Luxinus paused in his magic and blinked at Keranos, apparently befuddled by the comment. The sentiment was so familiar to Eritsena that she nearly laughed. She controlled herself before the prickly northerner could take offense, and said, “They’re his words, not mine.” She jabbed a thumb at Luxinus. “I only speak Imperial because it’s what most people understand. It has all the wrong words for all the wrong things.”
-
She took a few moments to slip into a clean dress and neaten her mussed hair. She did not bring a lamp with her to the garden. The halls of her childhood home were as familiar to her as the soles of her sandals, and anyway there seemed to be a great deal of moonlight tonight; she could see grey, shifting shadows on the corridor walls.
She realized that the spirit was still with her when she reached the garden. Scent hit her strongly as soon as she stepped through the doorway: flower and leaf, marble and dirt, sweat and skin and the overpowering perfume used to cover such odors. The garden was shaded in deep greens and greys, and its beauty in this altered state nearly took her breath away.
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