Monday, February 21, 2011
Nevermind.
Franny's last name is Marlow, same as her uncle and cousin, as she is related to them through her paternal side and would, therefore, be a Marlow. Still debating the spelling, as I feel it would be much cooler with an unnecessary e on the end of it but that would also make it much less authentic. I'll most likely keep the e off.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Character descriptions!
Matt was saying not 20 minutes ago that I should do character descriptions for everyone, and as I'm really having trouble finding Uncle James' voice, I think it would help to put them all into their physical bodies. And of course I have to describe their personalities, since personality and thought is really all I care about as a writer. Though I'm getting better at describing things; I must read more of the poetry of the day as it's helping immensely. Wind-swept moors and a wood standing lonely on a hill...makes my inner romantic swoon a bit. But anyway, the (rough) main cast of Earthshaker (or something. First novel may be Earthcrafter since she doesn't do much shaking. Also cannot call it shaking since that makes me think of Franny shaking her bustle as she sweeps out the yard. Tee hee.)
Franny (Francesca) Hurst (last name up for debate): My dearest, darling, impossible, sensible, stubborn child. Bookish, slightly prissy, moral, quietly pretty, with a sharp tongue that is fortunately rarely unleashed. Although she is frank and fearless among those she loves, she is a bit reserved in the world at large, as her upbringing did not really provide her with much socialization. She adores reading about the latest fashions and loves pretty things, but as she's been raised by an Earthshaker and taught how to do sendings, she can stomach no little amount of dirt (as long as she gets a nice hot bath to herself afterward). She loves to learn, and has a vast trove of random knowledge (since she hopped from interest to interest as a child), and nothing is better to her than sitting in the study with a fresh book, immaculate attire, and a perfectly brewed pot of tea.
Physically, she is is a classic child of that era in that she has a thin build, almost birdlike, and moves gracefully. Spending time out in the arena has caused her to have a smattering of freckles on her cheeks and across her nose, which she hates, and has caused her skin to have a darker appearance than the fashionable lily-white ladies of the the period. This isn't helped by the more olive skin tone she inherited from her half-Spanish mother, though it gives her a bit of an exotic look in her more disheveled moments. She has glossy, straight, light brown hair, which she usually keeps up in a bun or other sensible hairstyle, though she does curl the stray wispy bits and her bangs as a nod to fashion. Her eyes are large and slightly doe-like, giving her an innocent air when open fully, but are usually narrowed in concentration, her nose straight and aristocratic, and her mouth a pretty cupid's-bow pout, lips full and curved slightly up at the corners. She generally looks like an innocent, happy child, but that can quickly change with one of her fierce black frowns.
As she loves fashion, she is always dressed in true Victorian (steampunk!) style. She looks good in darker colors, especially forest greens, and gold, and loves the trinkets her uncle makes for her out of spare cogs and mechanical parts. As she lives out in the country, footwear is generally leather horsewoman boots, sturdy but with a large enough heel to accentuate her figure when walking. Dresses are fashionable but sensible (Terry Pratchett once had a character description that went something like "She had a small fashionable hat, which perched quietly on her head for no discernible purpose, and her only other concession to fashion was a small bum-roll, which achieved a certain perkiness in the rear without the need to wear several layers of dangerously spring-loaded underwear," and that is exactly what I think Franny would be like). She does have a weakness for jewelry, however, and is constantly trying new variations on the various necklaces, rings, and bracelets her cousin brings from London and her uncle makes for her in his workshop. The only piece she has on her at all times is her mother's pocketwatch, dainty and ladylike with its intricate gold filigree on the front and its face open to show the inner workings. Also, she loves intricately beaded or embroidered corsets but rarely gets to wear them as she is a country girl.
Actually, looks like Franny is it for the moment since it's now 1:15 and I've been up since 8 this morning. Stay tuned for James, Edward, Richard, and Mr. Pimms!
Franny (Francesca) Hurst (last name up for debate): My dearest, darling, impossible, sensible, stubborn child. Bookish, slightly prissy, moral, quietly pretty, with a sharp tongue that is fortunately rarely unleashed. Although she is frank and fearless among those she loves, she is a bit reserved in the world at large, as her upbringing did not really provide her with much socialization. She adores reading about the latest fashions and loves pretty things, but as she's been raised by an Earthshaker and taught how to do sendings, she can stomach no little amount of dirt (as long as she gets a nice hot bath to herself afterward). She loves to learn, and has a vast trove of random knowledge (since she hopped from interest to interest as a child), and nothing is better to her than sitting in the study with a fresh book, immaculate attire, and a perfectly brewed pot of tea.
Physically, she is is a classic child of that era in that she has a thin build, almost birdlike, and moves gracefully. Spending time out in the arena has caused her to have a smattering of freckles on her cheeks and across her nose, which she hates, and has caused her skin to have a darker appearance than the fashionable lily-white ladies of the the period. This isn't helped by the more olive skin tone she inherited from her half-Spanish mother, though it gives her a bit of an exotic look in her more disheveled moments. She has glossy, straight, light brown hair, which she usually keeps up in a bun or other sensible hairstyle, though she does curl the stray wispy bits and her bangs as a nod to fashion. Her eyes are large and slightly doe-like, giving her an innocent air when open fully, but are usually narrowed in concentration, her nose straight and aristocratic, and her mouth a pretty cupid's-bow pout, lips full and curved slightly up at the corners. She generally looks like an innocent, happy child, but that can quickly change with one of her fierce black frowns.
As she loves fashion, she is always dressed in true Victorian (steampunk!) style. She looks good in darker colors, especially forest greens, and gold, and loves the trinkets her uncle makes for her out of spare cogs and mechanical parts. As she lives out in the country, footwear is generally leather horsewoman boots, sturdy but with a large enough heel to accentuate her figure when walking. Dresses are fashionable but sensible (Terry Pratchett once had a character description that went something like "She had a small fashionable hat, which perched quietly on her head for no discernible purpose, and her only other concession to fashion was a small bum-roll, which achieved a certain perkiness in the rear without the need to wear several layers of dangerously spring-loaded underwear," and that is exactly what I think Franny would be like). She does have a weakness for jewelry, however, and is constantly trying new variations on the various necklaces, rings, and bracelets her cousin brings from London and her uncle makes for her in his workshop. The only piece she has on her at all times is her mother's pocketwatch, dainty and ladylike with its intricate gold filigree on the front and its face open to show the inner workings. Also, she loves intricately beaded or embroidered corsets but rarely gets to wear them as she is a country girl.
Actually, looks like Franny is it for the moment since it's now 1:15 and I've been up since 8 this morning. Stay tuned for James, Edward, Richard, and Mr. Pimms!
Monday, February 14, 2011
The Accident
More Franny coming at you, oh non-existent reader of this blog, since I can't seem to stop thinking about what she would do if situations from my life presented themselves to her (though obviously adjusted for time). Can't sleep since my grandfather died on the 12th and I'm still drifting about in a haze. I'm acting normal, and I feel normal much of the time, but I know it's only because I'm using books to bolster myself up.
I replace what's happening in my life with their lives, and then I don't have to think about all the things I wish I'd said and done with him, the way he always made me laugh, the habit he had of smacking his lips and going "Pah pah paaaaaaaaah" when he was trying to gather his thoughts, and the way he always (always) listened to what I had to say carefully, drinking in every word, and gave me advice as a person that had simply lived longer than me, not as someone who was older and wiser. I feel heartless and callous because I haven't cried much, but I know somehow that it's not because I don't feel the sadness; I've just locked it away and it only comes out every once in a while, in short bursts, like steam from a valve. I also haven't been home yet, haven't seen my grandma and my mom trying to deal with it all, and I know that part of my lack of sorrow is just that I can't accept that he's gone. I talked to him not a week ago, when he had pneumonia and could barely speak, but he was there and I can't understand that he's not anymore. So I hide myself away, grieve in small doses, and pretend that everything's ok, and I just hope to God that the inevitable explosion when it finally does hit me doesn't happen in a public place. What am I going to do without him? He was always one of the highlights of going home for me; even though he did very little he always had an amusing anecdote to share or an observation about something he'd seen on tv. He had such a big heart, and the smallest thing drove him to wonder. I always felt that with him I had found a true friend, a kindred spirit, one that could laugh and talk about everyday things by day and stare up at the stars and speak of the mysteries of creation at night. And now all of that is gone? The personality that shone from every pore, a spirit so big that no room could contain it, is gone? I know he's not really, that he can come visit me as Ryan has lately (and that now he's with Ryan and Ally and all of the people he's lost), but I cannot comprehend the loss. I can't.
And in that numbness I can still be a normal human being, and discuss the matter of his death calmly and sensibly. It struck me as very Franny-like of me, and I figured that the easiest way to understand her is to go through her reaction at the death of her parents, the deaths that drive her to become an Earthshaker someday (starting with the words that began this entire story). I can't go through my Jiggypa's death and feel the emotions, so I'm going along for the ride with Franny.
But I'm tired now, so I'll do it (hopefully) tomorrow.
I replace what's happening in my life with their lives, and then I don't have to think about all the things I wish I'd said and done with him, the way he always made me laugh, the habit he had of smacking his lips and going "Pah pah paaaaaaaaah" when he was trying to gather his thoughts, and the way he always (always) listened to what I had to say carefully, drinking in every word, and gave me advice as a person that had simply lived longer than me, not as someone who was older and wiser. I feel heartless and callous because I haven't cried much, but I know somehow that it's not because I don't feel the sadness; I've just locked it away and it only comes out every once in a while, in short bursts, like steam from a valve. I also haven't been home yet, haven't seen my grandma and my mom trying to deal with it all, and I know that part of my lack of sorrow is just that I can't accept that he's gone. I talked to him not a week ago, when he had pneumonia and could barely speak, but he was there and I can't understand that he's not anymore. So I hide myself away, grieve in small doses, and pretend that everything's ok, and I just hope to God that the inevitable explosion when it finally does hit me doesn't happen in a public place. What am I going to do without him? He was always one of the highlights of going home for me; even though he did very little he always had an amusing anecdote to share or an observation about something he'd seen on tv. He had such a big heart, and the smallest thing drove him to wonder. I always felt that with him I had found a true friend, a kindred spirit, one that could laugh and talk about everyday things by day and stare up at the stars and speak of the mysteries of creation at night. And now all of that is gone? The personality that shone from every pore, a spirit so big that no room could contain it, is gone? I know he's not really, that he can come visit me as Ryan has lately (and that now he's with Ryan and Ally and all of the people he's lost), but I cannot comprehend the loss. I can't.
And in that numbness I can still be a normal human being, and discuss the matter of his death calmly and sensibly. It struck me as very Franny-like of me, and I figured that the easiest way to understand her is to go through her reaction at the death of her parents, the deaths that drive her to become an Earthshaker someday (starting with the words that began this entire story). I can't go through my Jiggypa's death and feel the emotions, so I'm going along for the ride with Franny.
But I'm tired now, so I'll do it (hopefully) tomorrow.
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