Cost Of Her Crown

This little short story is something I made while listening to the song " Cost of the Crown ". Truly was a sad and emotional piece to write but I love the ending.

A woman with honey-colored hair and gorgeous green eyes stood out on her bedroom balcony. The breeze blew as her locks flew behind her, almost like a halo. The mistress was wearing a silk nightgown that was a royal purple color. Her skin was smooth and such a pale color. Standing there alone on the balcony, she looked like a goddess. She was sadly simply human but had the heart of an angel. Her name was Angela, she rejected the last name as she didn't need one. Angela was observing the stars above her castle walls. The young woman looked down seeing the divine lights from the city beneath her. She craved to join the people below her. Yearning for the freedom she gave up several ages ago.

When Angela was a young girl, she was just like other servants. Fantasizing of being royalty. But...being a servant, Angela had no hopes in ever becoming one. Their kingdom was very sick. Their queen was always cheating the people of their gold and food. Several people were too weak and sick to put up a struggle against her. When Angela turned 13, the noblewoman she had known and worked for since she was a baby had given her money and a dress to go to a ball. The mistress had grown fond of Angela, knowing the girl had a heart of gold so she wanted to give her a future. That night... Angela was named princess. As the current ruler was unable to bear a child and had found no one to wed. The ball was solely to find a new queen. Angela was having her fantasy come true!

Months passed and quickly she realized how weakened the people were. The queen and royals did nothing to help them either. Angela grits her teeth and remained silent for the time. A year after being chosen as the princess, the queen died and the crown was placed on her head. Closing her eyes as she felt the world being laid on her heart, but the crown weighed next to nothing. Opening her eyes as her new attendants bowed to her.

She didn't waste a second. Even if she was the ruler of the nation, she was under everyone else in truth. Within moments of being made the queen, she demanded the money to be returned to the people. She commanded the nobles to gather all the food and create a celebration. Not for the Royals but for her people. A true queen makes sure her people are fed before she sits to feast. As queen, she had to care for her people. They were the city's fate after all. They were the heart of her kingdom. Weeks past and very soon the people were strong and well-fed. She had made sure everything was cared for, and if there was a predicament it was taken care of as soon as possible.

She did not see the people as her subjects. But as her friends. They were like her children. Angela felt like as the queen it was her job to not just be queen, but to be the most trusted friend they could ever have. Every one of her people, no matter their social class were her children and friends. She cared for them as they cherished her.

Being such an enchanting woman she had many friends. Even if her kingdom was a beautiful place and safe for her people, she still built her army. Her guardians were always there for her. They were Angela's dearest friends and gave her encouragement when she needed it. They returned their love for her by jumping at her word when required.

But...The world was grim and many attempted to steal from her vibrant kingdom. She had no option but to send out her dear companions to danger and to death.

Her friends...

Her most treasured people...

And the youthful sons...

All of them had to go to protect her magnificent land. She had to sacrifice her dear companions for the well-being of her people. And they understood this. Doing thus happily and leaving with smiles. Giving their queen their loving hearts and went directly into combat to defend their family and home.

As Angela stood on her balcony, a lone tear flowed down her pink cheek. The kingdom's queens had never shed a tear, not like Angela's tears. Closing her eyes as she tilted her head back. Her glorious nation was in sorrow for her Heralds death... Quietly Angela murmurs, her voice quivering as tears started to stream down her cheeks.

"Oh, spirits that dwell behind these stars...

If you hear my cries, please have compassion

And let me send no more to die..."

Reviews

[JayG]

Okay, you have the desire, the enthusiasm, and the perseverance—all necessary traits. And, I’m sure, you’re hoping you have the talent to please the reader. Let’s assume you do. Is there anything else needed?

There is, I'm afraid…one small but necessary thing. And to understand why, let’s take a look at our schooldays, and how well they prepare us for the task of creating stories a reader will love. This matters, because from the day you began to read, you, and everyone you know, has been choosing fiction that was created by professionals. So the question to ask is if those pros know anything a new and hopeful writer must know.

Think back to the endless reports and essays you were assigned. What was their purpose? What necessary skill were you mastering? In other words, what’s the goal of a report or essay? To inform the reader clearly and concisely as to the facts.

And do you do that in this story? Absolutely. You clearly inform the reader about Angela, and the high points of her growing years. And in your report, she sounds like a nice person. So, you did your teachers proud. But… Do you know anyone who reads history books for pleasure? I don’t. And I’ve never heard of a history book being called a “page-turner.”

But why not? They have mystery, adventure, betrayal, romance, and more. What’s missing? Uncertainty. The events are presented in overview, as immutable information. We can’t feel as if we’re experiencing the events, and have no desire to call out suggestions to the characters, as we do when watching a film, or reading an exciting book. Why bother? After all, it’s only-a-report. Interesting, perhaps, but it has no power to make us feel as if WE’RE the one living the adventure. And isn’t that why we read fiction? Aren’t we most happy when the story we’re reading makes us stop to say, “Oh my lord, what are we going to do NOW? Isn’t a story that makes you weep, or laugh more fun than one that makes you nod and say, “Uh-huh…I see…uh-huh…”?

Go back to your schooldays again. Did even one teacher spend one single minute of how do to that? Did even one explain the elements of a scene on the page, and how/why they’re so different from a scene on the screen? Of course not. Your teachers weren’t readying you to write fiction, they were giving you skills your future employers require, so as to provide THEM with a pool of potential workers who own necessary, useful, and predictable skills.

Fiction-Writing is a profession, and like all professions, is acquired in addition to those schoolday basics. So in school they waste not a second on the emotion-based and character-centric skills of fiction. Nor do the spend time on the three issues we must address quickly on entering a scene. None on why scenes end in disaster for the protagonist, or on how to shape the black-moment, either. Nor do they tell us that there exists another, very different approach to writing. And because they don’t, we make the natural assumption that the skill we call “writing,” is the one referred to in the name of the profession, Fiction-Writing.

If only...

Fiction’s goal is to entertain the reader by providing an emotional experience, where nonfiction's goal is to inform. We want to terrify the reader, not tell them the protagonist feels terror. We want the reader to identify so strongly with the protagonist that instead of telling them the protagonist wept, we want the reader to weep. We want them to feel longing, anger, passion, and all the human emotions—as-they-read, and in parallel with their avatar the protagonist. There’s both the joy of reading AND of writing. When I was writing, Kiss of Death I sat, typing, for 36 hours straight, with no time off but to eat the food my wife pushed in front of me, and for bathroom breaks. No sleep, and no conversation. I was doing the typing, but the characters were living the story, and dragging me along.

I would have stopped, and should have. But my protagonist, and the story was in trouble. He was supposed to meet and fall in love with a woman who was reviewing camping equipment by using it on a mountainside camping trip, and, found herself pursued by a hungry bear. The plot said that my protagonist, a brand new English teacher, would rescue her and fall in love. But the lady refused to cooperate. After she’s safe he asks her if she’s okay. My intent was for her to be relieved, and thank him. Instead, my fingers typed, “Oh…I…thank you. It was lucky you were. If you hadn’t been there I’d have broken both my goddamn legs and ended up as bear-s**t. That’s for sure.”

Obviously, this was a more earthy woman than the one I planned her to be. And though I hadn’t planned it, she introduced herself as, Shining Star. Her profession: pole dancer. I had NOT expected a pole-dancer, who hitchhikes to the mountain to camp when she needs to relieve stress.

My body was saying, “Idiot, stop here and take a nap!” but I couldn’t, because I HAD to know what was going to happen next.

I love when that happens. But can it if you’re thinking in terms of facts and events?

My point? We no more learn to write fiction by reading it than we learn to be a chef by eating. Our goal isn’t to inform the reader in the way a report does. Instead, as E. L. Doctorow noted, “Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader. Not the fact that it’s raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.”

And to do that we need more than the nonfiction writing skills we’re given in school. And certainly, there’s no reason you can’t learn them as easily as you learned your current skills. In fact, if you truly are meant to write, you’ll find the learning a lot like going backstage at the theater. And if not? Well, you’ll have learned something important. So that makes it win/win. Right?

And though writing fiction for the page is no easier then learning any other profession, I’ll make it easy find a source of the skills you need to master. First, for an idea of the things you need to work on, check a few of the articles in my writer’s blog. Many of them were written for one of my publisher’s newsletters, and meant for the hopeful writer.

Then, pick up a copy of Debra Dixon’s, GMC: Goal Motivation & Conflict, here:
https://b-ok.org/book/2476039/ac87b9

Deb will give you the nuts-and-bolts basics of how to create scenes that sing to the reader, and how to link them into a coherent whole. Your local library system’s fiction-writing section has lots more.

Do have at it. But whatever you do, hang in there, and keep-on-writing.

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/the-grumpy-old-writing-coach/