Guest Blog: Karen Faignes - Destiny Sets (Blog Tour & Giveaway)

Shaytonian Chronicles – Book 1: Destiny Sets

Karen Fainges

The Hardest Thing About Character Development

The hardest part of character development for me has always been remembering what I said before. You need to keep all the details about your character somewhere where you can refer to it easily and make sure you get the basics right. You might think that you really don’t need this for your main character. Maybe not, though it is amazing how often I have to go back and check a fact. More likely you will need the reference sheets for supporting characters, those that wander on and off the page at intervals long enough that you forgot what you called them, or what colour their hair was.

One example of a sheet for keeping character details on is available http://dehydromon.deviantart.com/art/Blank-Character-Sheet-doc-Over-370-Questions-298561173. There are also less detailed sheets for minor characters.

Now you probably will not use even half of this in your story and definitely not for a minor character. ‘So why gather it’ I hear you asking. Good question.

You gather the information because the better you know the characters, the better your writing will be. First of all, the internal logic will be there. You won’t have consistency problems across the book or series.

You will never have to stop and think what a character would do in a given situation. You can also use small details to give reasons for your character’s actions. For example, I would rarely see the need to simply state that my character’s favourite colour is blue. If he met someone wearing the exact shade of blue that was the colour of his favourite jewel that his mother wore, that could influence his decisions and reactions.

The other area of character development that can be difficult is creating mannerisms that round out the character without being annoying (unless that is what you are going for). Here’s an example. In the Harry Potter books and movies, Harry would push his glasses up his nose if he was confused or embarrassed. Rowling didn’t have him do it in every scene, but it was often enough to see the habit of a young boy whose glasses never quite fit.

In contrast, Barty Crouch had that annoying thing he did with his mouth. It instantly told you that he was none too stable and more than a little bit creepy. The more he did it, the more I didn’t like him and I am sure that was intended.

So write down details so you stay consistent, give colour and depth to your characters and show their reasoning. Even if they don’t know why something is pushing their buttons, with the help of your sheet, you will.

Author Bio: http://shayton.net/Author.htm

Karen Fainges works as a trainer in business and computing. A wife and mother, she started thinking up sci-fi stories at the age of 10. Editor of the K-tips business and computing ezine, she longed to present her fiction to the world. So she took those long ago stories, a love of the absurd and wrote about beings that were not humans. Sometimes you see a lot more about humanity and yourself when you are looking at someone else.





Author Links  Website http://shayton.net/
Facebook Author page https://www.facebook.com/pages/Karen-Fainges/83671225033
Facebook Series page https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shaytonian-Vampire-Fiction/88608175544 Twitter https://twitter.com/annalisamara
Linkedin http://au.linkedin.com/pub/karen-fainges/a/b99/424/
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/10612018
Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Karen-Fainges/e/B0050KEU3S/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_3?qid=1382177091&sr=8-3 

About The Book

Book Genre: Scifi/Fantasy Vampire

Publisher: Writers Exchange

Release Date:

Buy Link(s): http://astore.amazon.com/shaytonchroni-20

Book Description:


Destiny Sets is the first novel in the Shaytonian Chronicles.   Lightning sears a scene against the eye. Trapped between reality and death, every scrap of life is fighting for existence. To stop fighting is to die. Some precious moments of peace can be stolen from small pockets of calm. Life can take a breath and wonder at the harsh beauty. But only for a moment, then struggle resumes. And others watch.   The Shayton Chronicles begins in Destiny Sets, the story of one man. He is that drop of chaos that can spell success or failure.   Born from a vampiric race of slaves, genetically moulded to provide comfort for their masters, he alone decides to be truly free. Irreverent humour and a fierce need to know 'why', war within him and entire worlds are changed.   "The Stainless Steel Rat with fangs."  

Excerpt

Painting the mythic vampire

The deep royal blue sky of the Italian Riviera provided the perfect backdrop to the posed woman. She was an otherworldly figure set amongst the ancient columns. Her softly accented voice broke the stillness. "Are you sure about this?"

She watched as he added a daub more paint, "I am sure. You said it yourself, the best way to deny something it is to say it is true."

"And what if the Council finds out?"

Alfredo dabbed on a different colour. Going by the look on his face, he still did not have the skin colour the exactly right colour of purple. It had been frustrating him all evening. There was a timeline that neither one of them had mentioned, but it loomed in their thoughts. He was getting older, and no one lived forever. His words dragged her out of the wave of sadness that swept through her. "This mythical Council of yours, what if they do notice the paintings? They are just paintings."

"The Council is no myth. They rule our world."

"I thought the King ruled your homeworld?"

Lisa started to shrug but remembered in time not to move from the pose. "His rule is absolute, so long as he leaves all the day to day decisions, like whether to exile his daughter to Earth, to the Council."

"And you, as this poor exiled waif are concerned that one of those 'day to day' decisions may be objecting to this painting?"

Lisa snorted at the sarcasm in his voice, knowing it was meant more to chide her out of the doldrums than anything else. "They defend of the safety of Shayton. They hold dear her anonymity. It keeps her from being destroyed by those that fear the different, which, my dear, you must agree describes most humans remarkably well."

Alfredo nodded, "And trust me, the picture of a masked dancer with obviously fake wings..." Lisa snorted again at this description of her body, "will ensure that any little slip ups like the one in Venice, will be seen as a publicity stunt and nothing else. Your Council will thank us."

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Dominant Species Volume One: Natural Selection by David Coy (Book Tour & Huge Giveaway)

Dominant Species Volume One – Natural Selection

by David Coy

Walking the Edge of Plausibility

To my way of thinking, stories that walk too safely within the lines of believability eventually fall into a chasm of predictability from which there is no escape. In Dominant Species – Natural Selection, I try to move the narrative along just at the edge where the suspension of belief around key events or themes is an easy and pleasurable tradeoff between the plausible and the impossible. Luckily, most readers have no trouble following along and seem to enjoy the journey so close to the edge. Others, not so much. I often think that predictability is the least loved of all fiction’s attributes, at least for those readers who have read broadly. Film is even more susceptible to the disease of IKWN (I Know What’s Next). Films, horror in particular, with a “twist” or even several of them strategically placed seem to do better nowadays, and though not a substitute for good dramatic fundamentals, at least provide a satisfying respite in the form of a surprise or two along the way. Stanley Kubrick has said that it isn’t enough for a scene to be real or believable. It has to be interesting. I couldn’t agree more. I’d give up easy believability for fascination any day.

Enough preaching. Where do you like to walk? Inside or outside the lines?

About The Author:

I’ve had a lifetime love of science fiction and horror. I suspect it started in puberty since most obsessions do. My passion for it was so strong as a penniless youth, I resorted to boosting copies of my favorite authors’ works off the shelves of the book section of the local Federal’s department store. My friends and I soon had a collection of great sci-fi at discounted prices to read and read again. But I’m not wholly without conscience about those shifty activities as a scrawny youth. I’ll shake my head from side to side and mumble “Crap, that was stupid” once ever decade or so. But that’s about it.

I consider myself a sci-fi film Nazi. I’m sure I’ve seen every sci-fi movie ever made – certainly the vast majority of them. I can’t pass up even the worst of it. All those god-awful, black and white B flicks of the 40’s onward, with their outrageous and ham-handed themes of science vs. ignorance and good vs. evil, wrapped in whatever pseudo-scientific covering was popular that year, transfixed me, entertained me, and like the works pinched then stashed in my friend’s basement, made me think. When pivotal films like “Alien” and John Carpenter’s “The Thing” elevated sci-fi film up out of the gutter with all those glorious and expensive production values, I was im himmel.

I attended Wayne State University in Detroit, Michigan. Like so many of my peers at the time, I left Wayne State with an utterly useless BA with a major in psychology. I’ve cleaned tractor cranes for money and worked as a steel mill laborer when the last one of those plants in Michigan still existed. I’ve worked as a night janitor. I moved to southern California when I was 30 years old and sold cars for a while. Shortly thereafter I worked for what used to be called the Hughes Aircraft Company as an in-house photographer. For the last 10 years of my work-a-day life I worked as a senior project manager for Computer Sciences Corporation. I now live in Oregon where I started and recently sold a fitness gym. I relate this choppy history to drive home my favorite maxim relating to life and the living of it: you never know where in the fuck you’ll end up. You’ll find my books laced through with that persistent theme. I hope you find the journey of reading them, should you attempt it, if not straight and linear, at least interesting.

Website | Goodreads |Twitter| Facebook

Book Genre

Science Fiction / Sci-Fi Horror

Publisher

David Coy

Publication Date

Digital editions – June 2012

Purchase At Amazon:

Dominant Species Volume One – Natural Selection

Dominant Species Volume Two – Edge Effects

Dominant Species Volume Three – Acquired Traits

Book Description:

Imagine an alien science where tissue, bone, nerves, and muscle are used like we use iron, wood, rubber and wire. Now imagine yourself held captive with hundreds of others by beings who wield this grisly technology as easily as we do hammer and saw; beings whose lineage can be traced through the morally hollow, parasitic branches of nature's evolutionary tree. What would you do to survive? Would you re-draw the boundaries of your own morality to stay alive? What would you compromise? How might you escape? This is the context of NaturalSelection, the first of three volumes of the Dominant Species series of books. What distinguishes Dominant Species from other stories in its genre is its visceral imagery and more importantly, its rich subtext. The story can appeal to those fascinated and drawn to horror and strong drama, and at the same time will fascinate those who can tune into its broader message about our relationship to the natural world. Taken as a whole, the series is a puzzle linked together with genetic threads that unravel like a double helix. Viewers intrigued by mystery and dramatic puzzles will find a fascinating playground for guesswork, thought and discussion.

The first volume sets the stage for the ongoing conflict between Homo sapiens and a visiting alien race. Like all successful serial drama, the story poses many questions to be answered, each one carefully laced into a central theme about human survival, the action driven by antagonists both alien and human.

The story is character driven, each character fully developed and rich, providing the colorful characterization required by serial drama. Central to the first volume is teacher Phil Lynch.

The story starts as a peaceful visit to his weekend getaway in the Sierra foothills. Hours later he finds himself living an unthinkable nightmare. Paralyzed and taken prisoner, his body is used as an unwilling host in a bizarre and grisly series of parasitic infections. On board the alien vessel within which he is imprisoned are more than a hundred other humans – and like Phil – just as confused and terrified – their bodies subject to unfathomable violence for a dark and malevolent purpose. As the terrible truth about the alien visitation unfolds, a small group of captives must first understand – and then fight for escape from the terror that holds them captive. That struggle will stretch razor-thin the limits of the human will to survive.

There is strong language in the story because humans under stress often use such language. There are no puppy love or adolescent motifs of intimacy in the story. Instead there are very many mature, psychosexual themes that run through all three books. Some are represented symbolically, others described explicitly. There is violence. The story is not PG-13.

The story is a human drama that will be appreciated by most adult demographics. It is strong, unflinching theater played through characters who repulse us, fascinate us, and often, appeal to our better natures; ones who continually remind us of our human strengths—and weaknesses.

Excerpt

Mary listened to the droning sound that came to her through the wet air and thought of her mother’s soft humming. She wanted her mother to be there now, to hold her and hum softly to her, to soothe her. She drifted toward her mother’s round arms and warm smile on the ghostly crest of that ugly sound.

Then the dread came. It crashed over her like a cold, brown wave and the memories of her mother’s soft touch were washed away. She was in the big chamber. The big chamber was where the droning sound was. The droning was the collective sound from others just like her, others not asleep yet not awake; others unable to move their limbs.

She could turn and lift her head and see and hear and smell. She could not talk, but she could make a deep sound, a groan, if she tried. When the pain came, the groan would be its outlet. The groan would be the dull steam her violated body would vent in its outrage.

She prayed for a miracle. She prayed that when she opened her eyes she would see big, blue sky and bright light. She pressed her eyes closed and prayed hard but when she looked, only the chamber’s ceiling filled her vision. Its black, bubbly surface gave substance to the dread and when the cutting began, the ceiling’s gloom would stamp its dark print on her soul once more.

Mary turned her head slowly and saw the naked body of a young woman. Then she breathed the warm scent of perfume. The woman was new and a splash of luscious scent had been captured with her. The woman looked at Mary, her face slack with paralysis. Mary could not speak, but if she could have spo#ken the result would have been the same. There was nothing to say to this newcomer, no consolation to be offered. There was no comfort where none could exist.

Then her surgeon witch was there, its long head hovering, twisting and looking. Its thin, quick hands moved like rats over her body, feeling here and there with spiderlike squeezes. For the moment, her body was numb to the creature’s touch and she was thankful for it.

There was a motion under her skin, in her neck, deep in the muscles. It was a roiling little pressure she’d grown to know quite well. A grub was moving, and from the feel of it she thought it was moving upwards. As the larvae fed on her tissues, it caused a single sharp note of pain that grew in volume second by unmerciful second. She heard the high-pitched hiss of the witch’s cutter and was relieved that the cutting was starting.

Mary began her retreat from the sound and the growing bite of the cutter and of the pain of the worm and joined her voice with the others.

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