E is for Eanrin

"I am ashamed of nothing. I am a cat."

And this line pretty well sums up Bard Eanrin, Chief Poet of Rudiobus, shape-shifter, knight, storyteller, and romantic swain. He is a cat. He is who he is.

Or, perhaps not . . .

We have, of course, already met Eanrin in the earlier two books (albeit very briefly in Veiled Rose). First, he was Monster, the fluffy bundle of kitty Princess Una kept as a pet (partly just to annoy Felix, I'm sure). As the story progressed, we discovered that he was also Sir Eanrin, in the service of the Prince of Farthestshore, and he'd been sent to guard Una in the years before the Dragon came. He also doesn't always take the shape of a cat!

He is, truth be told, rather amazingly vain. And really, who's to blame him? Even when wearing a man's form, he's still a cat through and through and, therefore, utterly convinced of his own charm and beauty at all times. And, like all cats, he fancies himself a gifted musician (if you've never heard a cat sing, you've never heard a diva, let me tell you!). Whether or not he is as talented as he thinks he is . . . well . . .

What I really love about this character is how much fun it is to throw him in with those who don't appreciate him as much as he believes he deserves. See this conversation, for example:

"You don't care much for this young man, do you, Eanrin?"

"Can't say that he's a great favorite."

"It's because he doesn't like your poetry, isn't it."

Eanrin glowered. "When have I ever been so petty?" (Moonblood, p. 203)

Despite his protests, we know it's true. In fact, Eanrin was so outraged when Ragniprava, the Tiger, preferred Lionheart's comic poem to his own romantic sonnet, he could barely speak to Lionheart afterwards!

But there is a great deal more to Eanrin than first meets the eye, more than arrogance and snobbery and a certain amount of foppishness. Notice what Lionheart thinks about him at one point:

He eyed Eanrin, his dramatic stance, his face full of longing . . . and he saw the lie that it was. Or not a lie, but rather, a mask.

And he thought to himself, Eanrin is hiding something. But he could not guess what. (Moonblood, p. 236)

We are actually gifted with more insight into the poet-cat's nature than Lionheart is. For instance, when he and Oeric are carrying the stone-spelled Lionheart out of Ragniprava's realm . . .

Eanrin shook his head. "Your faith does you credit, Oeric. I serve the Prince and will serve him till I die or the Final Waters sweep all this away! But--" And here one hand touched the patches over his empty eye sockets, a swift gesture that Oeric did not notice. The poet dropped his voice and finished softly, "But perhaps I'll always find the paths more difficult to walk than would a man of greater faith."

Then, because he was the Chief Poet of Iubdan Rudiobus, he laughed and filled his face with more smiles. (Moonblood, p. 195)

This is one of the few places where we see beyond Eanrin's merry masks. There is, I believe, a wealth of depth beneath the facades of his character. But how few may even know it!

Imraldera might. But she's not saying. And he's admitting nothing.

One of those silences followed which a stranger observing would not have understood. But even a stranger would sense the unspoken tension between two people who did not look at each other and did not speak. Even a stranger would realize that some history existed between these two that he could not guess. And even a stranger would realize that he was intruding on a private moment that could, in a flash, explode into an out-and-out fight or, perhaps, if miracles still happen, dwindle into something like understand.

But the silence ended instead with the poet rising gracefully from his chair, clearing his throat, and marching across the room to lean against the trunk of a poplar tree. (Moonblood, p. 203)

So Sir Eanrin must remain an enigma for the time being. He with his empty eye sockets, his sappy poetry, his two lethal knives, and his arrogant ways. But we shall see more of him . . . much more, indeed!

What did you think about the poet-cat knight? Any favorite lines or scenes?

MOONBLOOD Giveaway: And the Winner Is!

And the winner of the MOONBLOOD Name-drawing Giveaway: The Review Iteration is . . .

Bethany Beck!

Congratulations, Bethany! Feel free to email me at aestengl@gmail.com with your mailing address and let me know to whom you'd like your copy of MOONBLOOD signed!

Thank you so much to the rest of you who participated. Those reviews mean a lot to me! Keep your eyes open for more fun giveaways and name-drawings in the near future. And, of course, we have the big Fan Fiction Contest winner coming up in just a few weeks!

Sunday Afternoon Creativity

It's a rainy, nasty, icky day here in NC . . . so I holed up with my pencils and had some fun!

I realized I had never done an illustration for Veiled Rose. I've done paintings or sketches for every other story but that one! So here's what a few hours doodling produced . . .

Friends for Rosie

May I just say, I particularly love how my little Leo turned out. With his Bloodbiter's Wrath and all!



Friday Tidbits

Too Attached . . .

So you wrote a scene. And it's a good scene. No, no, not a good scene. A GREAT scene. The characters sparkle with life. The dialogue scintillates! The imagery is a vision of beauty/terror/comfort/whatever. When you read this scene, this very scene that you wrote--you, my friend, the Great Writer of This Brilliance!--your pulse races, and you come to the end of it eager to turn to the next page, eager to discover what new thrills and chills await!

Well, that's a bit of a let-down.

Okay, that next scene might not be as good as the previous one. But that's to be expected, right? Pure genius is not a river flowing smoothly. There are bound to be boulders, rapids, whitewater, etc. So no worries! Push on through that bleh-scene, trusting in the strength of The Great Scene to see you through.

Hmmm. Well, that next one didn't work very well either, did it.

Not to worry. Keep on forging ahead! This is the writer's life. Who said it would be easy? (He did? Smack him one for me, will you?)

But still . . . wow. That next next scene didn't go so hot either, did it. I mean, it's okay though, right?

***

You know this routine. If you're a writer, you've probably done it a dozen times or more. It's not always a scene though, is it? Sometimes it's a character. Sometimes it's an entire plot twist. Whatever it is, it's that little (sometimes HUGE) piece of the story that shone like true gold when it first came to you and fell from your fingers like the touch of Midas.

But maybe it isn't gold at all. Maybe it's fool's gold.

Maybe the reason all those scenes that follow aren't working, aren't building, aren't full of the energy you expected from this story . . . maybe it's because that one Great Scene is holding you back.

I have done this more times than I care to admit. It's far too easy, especially in the rough-drafting stage of a novel, to think that because a particular scene (character, plot twist) worked so well when I wrote it that it will continue to be the right direction for the story.

For example: In my most recent work-in-progress, I wrote an early scene between my heroine and the man she once loved but who did not love her in return. Okay, okay, spoiler . . . I wrote a scene about Lionheart's return to Southlands after the events in Moonblood, and his first encounter with Daylily since she broke off their engagement, told from Daylily's perspective.

I really loved this scene. It was heartbreaking and beautiful and all the things I wanted it to be.

Problem was, the deeper I got into the story, the more I realized that the beginning as a whole was not what it needed to be. I had started everything too soon. I needed to jump ahead by several months and start in a more exciting place.

But . . . doing this would mean cutting out that conversation between Lionheart and Daylily. There was no way, with this new arrangement of plot progression that they would even see each other, much less have time for a chat.

I resisted. Oh, yes, I sure did! I kept trying other rewrites, other scene arrangements, ignoring how awkward everything else was for the sake of keeping that one great scene intact.

I suppose the moral of this tidbit is, in a nutshell: Never Get Too Attached to Any One Piece of Your Story.

If that scene you love so much--that character--that plot twist--if it's holding back the rest of the story, it must go.

Funny, though I've experienced this with every single manuscript I have ever penned, it's a lesson I have to relearn each and every time!

What about you? Any pet-scenes or characters you're questioning?

“In writing, you must kill all your darlings.”

William Faulkner

D is for Demarress

"Demarress!" he cried. "I have a riddle for you! Will you hear it?"

But the enormous, ravening Bane of Corrilond turns to the poet and replies, "That is not my name!"

And she is right in saying this. Whoever she once was has long since been lost in the great furnace raging inside the red dragon. But though it is lost, it is not forgotten . . .

We first encountered the Bane of Corrilond early on in Heartless. Do you remember the scene? That's right: In chapter five, when poor Una is trapped over her much-hated tapestry, "which depicted a gory scene from the epic poem The Bane of Corrilond." (Heartless, p. 63) Thus we first learn of one of the more famous dragon legends in Parumvir history. She continues to crop up in various places throughout the narrative. There's a little marble statue of her in Oriana's seven-tiered garden:

The body was somewhat startling, curling as it did down the side of the path, then arching at the neck so that the jaw could open wide enough for Felix to stick his head inside, as he often did when he and Una walked together. The expression on its face was hardly menacing; it reminded Una of Monster yawning. (Heartless p. 107)

It isn't until much later that we realize this figure from legend--rendered almost comic with time and interpretation--is indeed a living, fire-breathing, horror.

You remember the scene, I'm sure. When Una, recently transformed (and already losing her own name within her new, terrible identity), comes to the Village of Dragons deep in the decimated Red Desert:

A heavy shoulder knocked into [Una], ands he stumbled up behind the yellow-eyed boy. "Hey, watch your step," he growled, but not at her.

The person who had jostled her stopped and turned. Man or woman, it was impossible to tell in the dark, but the frame was huge and the voice deep and rocklike.
"What have you there?" the giant asked the yellow-eyed boy.
'A new sister, just arrived. She is forgotten."
"Ha!" the giant snorted. "They'll always forget you, small one, no matter how pretty your little pale face may be. They'll always forget you. Unless you make them remember. But then . . . Ah, then they do not forget so soon!" (Heartless, pgs. 273-274)

Thus Una first met the true being behind her haphazard tapestry and the little garden ornaments. The woman who became a dragon and, in vengeance for first a lover's then a kingdom's betrayal, destroyed her entire nation, burning it beyond all hope or recall.

"Nothing but charred ruins. Great cities, shining Destan, luminous Aysel, and the magnificent Queen's City of Nadire Tansu . . . all gone. Now there is nothing but desert as far as the eye can see." (Heartless, p. 274)

The former queen of Corrilond is now the stuff of nightmares. But for some, nightmares are a dream come true!

When we meet the Bane of Corrilond again within the pages of Moonblood, we see her first through the eyes of King Vahe of Arpiar. This is what he thinks of her:

He stood before the most enormous dragon of all, a creature as tall as a house, her scales as red as fresh blood. Her face, of all the sleepers', was the most twisted in pain. As though even now she experienced the unending throes of death.

"It's the queen," Vahe said, delightedly. "The Bane of Corrilond. What a fire she had back in her day! You remember, don't you, sweetness? It was not long after our blissful wedding day when we saw, even from Arpiar, the glow of flames rising in Corrilond. What a force! Heat carried from the Near World to the Far. There have been few like her in all of history, this most glorious of her Father's children. Like the Dragonwitch reborn, some said." (Moonblood, p. 156)

Those of you who have read Veiled Rose might remember the scene between Rose Red and the Dragonwitch. Well, the Bane of Corrilond is not the Dragonwitch (for one thing, she's not dead yet), but she is a force possibly as bad!

But when we meet her there, soon after the death of the Dragon King, she and all her brethren lie sleeping, unable to wake with their Dark Father gone from them. It will take the blood of a red, red rose to wake them . . .

And when only one drop of that blood falls, it is the Bane of Corrilond who wakes first. Wakes and finds a unicorn approaching. All terror and fire build up into a destructive force inside her, and she will desolate all in her path!

Or, she might have . . . were it not for one cheeky poet calling out the name, "Demarress! Demarress!"

"This riddle is for Demarress, Queen of Corrilond. She was a keen one for riddles," says Eanrin. But the red dragon protests, "That mortal woman died in my fire long ago."

Perhaps the old Demarress is not completely gone, however. Perhaps some little piece of her survives, deep down inside the burning. For her curiosity gets the better of her, and the Bane of Corrilond demands hear the riddle Eanrin offers.

I am the remnants of hammers,

Of fire and file, firmly confined,
Beloved of kings and princes.
Those who feel my kiss may weep!
And she who never touched me
Will gnash her teeth in vain.

With those cheeky words, a memory forces its way through the flames to the deeper places of the dragon's mind. Memories of a king, gazing upon her in disappointment. Memories of his sword, "with a golden hilt carved like two wildcats, set with rubies." Memories of a father's sad voice saying to her, "Ah! Would that I had fathered a son!"

We don't know what sort of life the young Princess Demarress--who became the last Queen of Corrilond--might have known. All we know is the bitterness and the poison. But there is probably a whole story to be told, somewhere back in time . . . the story of a struggling princess, determined to prove her strength in a world of men . . .

Whatever that story may be, the Bane of Corrilond--and all that remains of Demarress--meets her end within the pages of Moonblood. I do hate to give that away, however, so I think perhaps you ought to go and read it for yourself!

What are your thoughts, dear readers? Did you fear or feel sorry for the dreadful Bane of Corrilond?

New Things on the Heartless Page

There are changes happening!

Check out the Heartless page to see the first of them. I've created new tabs, including "amusing extras" and the original short story from which the complete novel eventually developed. More fun changes to come for both this book and all the others . . . and possibly a sneak peek from Starflower! So keep your eyes open! And let me know what you think.

C is for Carrun Corgar

If you've been following the Tales of Goldstone Wood for any length of time, you've probably already begun to notice that most things--people, places, and events--have an implied story behind them. Carrun Corgar, the name of a certain ruin atop Goldstone Hill in the Between, is no exception.

 In the Near World, a palace in ruins stood at that hilltop. But in the Between, Goldstone Wood extended over all save the very crest of the hill. Here too there were ruins, not of a palace but of a once-tall tower of black stone.

A doorway remained standing. All around it was forest and the rubble of old stone. But through that doorway was . . . darkness.

"It's been many centuries since I saw Carrun Corgar," said the king with a smile. "What a rundown little hap it is. Nothing like in my day!" (Moonblood, p. 154)

Whatever Carrun Corgar once was to King Vahe, it now marks a gateway to the Realm of Death for him. Passing through a crumbling doorway, Vahe leads his queen into a barren landscape and on to the Village of Dragons where the fire-bound children of the Dragon sleep . . .

We only have a few more glimpses of Carrun Corgar through the course of this novel. Much later on, Sir Oeric, who has lost Lionheart somewhere in the Wood Between and is frantically searching for him, finds his way leading up Goldstone Hill. There, while looking through Oeric's eyes, we learn a little more of the history of the ruined tower.

The once high tower had been built in the early days of Vahe's power, and therefore it had been strong, solid, not spun from enchantments. By building, Vahe had grafted this whole part of the Wood onto Arpiar, making it a part of his demesne. Then he had linked Arpiar to that small portion of the Near World, an invisible parasite clutching that hill. (Moonblood, p. 292)

If Vahe built the tower there, you can bet he used it for nefarious purposes! What those purposes were, we can only guess. Oeric, while looking at it, has memories of captivity . . . both his own and others'. Perhaps it was once a prison, standing in the Between.

And perhaps Vahe was not the only prison-keeper.

Oeric remembers, while among the ruins, climbing to the rooftop. In his memory he pushes open a door  and . . .

On hesitant feet he stepped out onto the parapet from which one could gaze into the Near World or the Far without crossing into either.

The night was cold. He remembered that. Cold and moonless. No light illuminated that dark place save that which shone from Life-in-Death's white eyes.

He saw her again, standing before his beloved, who was crumpled at her feet. His memory self cried out, and Life-in-Death turned to him and laughed.

"You are no better than your brother. Goblin. Outcast. You are Vahe." (Moonblood, p. 293)

But whatever the secrets of Carrun Corgar may be, they shall have to exist in nothing more than hint and rumor for the time being. But one day, I hope, I may reveal more . . .

In the meanwhile, what did you think of this strange tower which means so much to the two goblin brothers? Did you have any thoughts or ideas about it while reading Moonblood?