The Kindling

The winter night air was brisk and cold; nevertheless the artisan sitting at his work table was drenched with sweat, working tirelessly in the middle of a large pine forest, still green in the snowy season. His hands, though shaking, worked swiftly and efficiently as he wove the forces of Tenrashé into a being of life. The first creatures to walk the face of this newly birthed planet, for they will make it ready for the other beasts, they shall be the kindling to the fire that is to come.

With one last touch added, the artisan picks up his tiny creation, brings it to his lips, and blows life into it, watching as it’s once dull form now pulsates with the energy of life that will allow it to live and grow. With a tiny flash of light the creature jumped out of it’s creators hands and hung in the air next to his face, it’s bright eyes, full of intelligence, studied him like a child would a new found toy. It reached out with its tiny hand, touching the artisan’s face, showing his gratitude through a force it sent through its body into his. Of course, no ordinary mortal would feel this force, but then again, this man isn’t an ordinary mortal.

“Shaxion, what have you done?” The voice of authority boomed through the night air, fracturing the serenity that had been so carefully placed. Without a second thought, the newly created life zoomed off into the night, frightened, yet eager to explore it’s new home.

With a deep sigh, full of longing and regret, the artisan stood up to confront his opposer. “I have done what was needed, Shédren, I have created what will soon become this world’s only way to survive.”

A large flash of light temporarily illuminated the entire forest, fading just as fast. Shédren, once empty handed, now held an enormous mace. “You know why that cannot be allowed, you know what is supposed to happen,” his voice, though full of authority, is also morose.

“You know as well as I that nothing is set in stone, that anything can happen, and that this is the right thing to do,” Shaxion’s voice was pleading. “We can do this together, we can make this world perfect, there is no need for any sort of violence or darkness to ever touch it.”

A tired laugh escaped Shédren’s lips, “I choose what happens, not you; I chose this, it is what will allow them to prosper and thrive, then eventually die and leave this planet.” He pauses for a moment and continues, “They cannot be like us, nothing ever can, it will only lead to our destruction, Shaxion, why can’t you see that?” He took a step forward in a seemingly harmless way. “We are immortal, Everlasting, for a reason, so we can rule over others lower than us, not to create more like us that will eventually overthrow and kill us.” The large mace he held in his hand began to pulsate with energy and he took another step, filling the gap between himself and Shaxion. “I have to prevent that.”

Anger and defiance blazed in Shaxion’s eyes as he began to understand what was in store for him. “You’re wrong.” Those words, though strong, were his last. Shédren slammed his mace down into his skull, the sickening crack of it shattering echoed across the entirety of the planet that night, arousing the suspicion of the newly created being of light that now soared in it’s newly found home. After Shédren left the planet that night, unbeknownst to the fact that the creature was exactly what he had feared, Everlasting, as he was. It returned to it’s creator, arriving at his body and once again laid its hand on his face, this time, drawing power from his dying body, power to create and build more of its own kind, the power to survive.

Reviews

[JayG]

• The night air was brisk and cold; nevertheless the man sitting at his workbench in the middle of his forest was drenched with sweat…

The problem, as I see it, is that you’re “cheating.”Before you read the first word you already have a picture of the scene in your mind. You know who he is, where he is in time and space, and what’s going on. So for you the words call up memories, images, and story, all locked in your mind. But for your reader, the words call up memories, images, and story, all locked in YOUR mind. So for anyone but you, the words mean only what they suggest to each reader, based on their own interpretation of the meaning, and your intent—based on THEIR background and experience, not yours. So right away there are problems. What image would you expect the reader to hold when you use the word workbench? Mine includes a drill press, a vice, and and a grinder. I’m guessing that your image doesn’t.

You call the protagonist a man, but then talk about his “breathing life” into his creation. Perhaps it’s me, but none of the men I know can do that. So obviously, your definition of the term and mine don’t coincide. But they must if I’m to percieve the scene as you hope I will—as HE does. It is his story, after all. So the reader is intereste4d in living it as him, not having someone they can neither see nor hear report it.

The problems a writer faces in creating understanding in the reader are significant, and must be overcome if the reader is to appreciate the story. One method writers use to do that, and why they do, can be found here: https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/2015/05/13/inside-out-the-grumpy-writing-coach/

The problem you face is that you’re talking ABOUT the story as you view it in your mind. You're, to a great extent, narrating the director's cut of the film version of the story. That's very different from making the reader feel as if they're living it with the character as an avatar.

And yes, if the reader continues, they will, eventually figure out what you mean. But they won’t read on, because readers positively hate being confused. And any information that removes the confusion can’t retroactively erase what they had as they read. And worse, if they do stop reading, it matters not at all that the story is good because they won’t see it. So learning the tricks that make the reader to WANT to turn to page two, and onward, would seem to be damn important.

Doesn’t it make sense to pick up a few of the tricks that have been developed over the years to hook and keep the reader? The better you understand the needs of your readers, and what they don’t like, the better your story will be from that reader’s viewpoint.

So, taking a bit of time to “bring yourself up to speed,” is a wise investment of time—and perhaps a few dollars.

Like any profession writing has its tricks of the trade, and specialized knowledge not obvious to those outside the profession.

So, some suggestions: first, you might want to dig around in the writing section of my blog as an overview of the issues that may need your attention. Then, look through the local library’s fiction writing section. That can be a huge resource. And while you’re there see if the system has a writing book by either Dwight Swain, Jack Bickham, or Debra Dixon. They are pure gold.

Hang in there, and keep on writing.

Jay Greenstein
jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/

[Raeven]

Yep. I absolutely love this. Great job at keeping my attention and piquing my curiosity.