Anne Woodland

            Something that’s an ongoing challenge for me as a writer is world–building.   By world–building I mean the background details and information that help the reader come to know and understand the setting of the story.   A lot of the information that goes into it isn’t actually used in the written story, but it’s still necessary in order to convey many of the nuances that would otherwise be lost. My problem is that I tend to focus more on the inner workings of my characters and their interactions with each other than I do on the setting in which these things take place.   (All that arguing with myself gives me great material for my brainchildren!) That’s not to say that I don’t have a mental picture of their surroundings, I do, but I fail to convey that.   I feel the need to build things to the point, that if one of my characters asked me for directions, I would be able to tell them: “Oh, that...

           Frequently, as I've previously mentioned, the parts of my psyche argue among themselves. I had this argument after a productive morning a short while back (And people wonder why I'm so proficient at arguing!): Teen: Well, this has been a very productive morning.   I think this calls for a nap. Adult: No! We’re not taking a nap! An object in motion stays in motion, and an object at rest stays at rest. Teen: Stop referencing Newton’s Second Law.   Besides, we already got a lot done.   It’s almost like we’re an adult! Adult: We are an adult. Teen: Speak for yourself. Adult: You do realize we’re the same person, right? Teen: Stop reminding me…. Why can’t we talk a nap?   We’re tired.   We had trouble sleeping last night and had to get up early.   Come on! Adult: If we take a nap now then it’ll be harder for us to fall asleep later and we’ll just have another terrible night’s sleep!   It’ll be a ne...

Lysander stood in the darkness, the stones of the second bridge smooth and worn beneath his feet.   Two of his men stood next to him, ready to lift their barrel of oil and set its contents cascading down on the approaching mercenary fleet.   By now the fleet had passed under the first bridge and the blockade had been raised. Ieda appeared next to him, shifting uncomfortably.   “Lysander, I… I haven’t been completely honest with you.   I wanted to just pass through with as little fuss as possible, but seeing what you’re up against I don’t think that I could do that and still live with myself.   I want to fight with you.” Lysander rubbed the back of his neck.   “I knew.   Yul saw you shoot the falcon.   Do you have your own weapon.” Ieda nodded and produced a smooth and well-polished bow.   The wood was some strange species not found in Marovia or the surrounding area and the feathers on the arrows were from some tropical bird.   “I...

            The early morning murmurs of Lysander’s war camp were interrupted by the hunting shriek of a falcon.  Everyone looked to the sky in surprise and saw one of the familiar homing pigeons flying frantically towards them, a falcon closing in behind it.             Pandemonium broke out, Lysander hollered to the archers who were already frantically running for they bows and quivers, tripping over each other and adding to the clamor.   Yul was also shouting orders which were lost in the general confusion of things.             Ieda was the only one who stayed seemingly calm.   She left the fire where she had been assigned to turn the spit and grabbed a bow that had been left nearby.   She hurriedly fitted an arrow to it and carefully, but not quickly took aim.          ...