From My Fantasy Writing Desk
For the last couple of days, I’ve been working on the scenes which, in my way of outlining novels, are collectively called the midpoint climax (sometimes it’s just one big scene). One of the recommendations for this kind of scene is to have a distinctive setting that heightens the mood, tension and excitement. In a movie, it would be the big budget investment. Fortunately, with words, all you need is imagination and patience.
In each of my books, this particular moment has taken distinctly different forms, but they all share certain qualities. There’s always drama—sometimes the big kind with violence and danger, sometimes much quieter. Menace and disaster don’t always go crash, boom, bang. A few words said softly can do it, if done right. In addition, whatever my main characters thought was going to get them through, whatever plan they’ve been clinging to, that all goes wrong in a big way. The stakes go way up.
I had originally imagined all this sequence of scenes as happening inside, but as I got closer to it, I realized I needed a larger backdrop and more intrinsic drama arising from that backdrop, so I moved most of it outside. As inspiration, in the general region of Turkey where the historical background for my fantasy series actually took place, I found a beautiful canyon with tons of drama and the right treacherous possibilities. I knew the larger landscape around this canyon but hadn’t hiked through it specifically. So, I found a really lovely photo from someone’s trip through that canyon to add vivid details to my general memories. (The photo is copyrighted so you have to click through to see it. I can’t post it here.)
All kinds of conflict and nuance began to happen to the events I’d pictured as part of this scene. It had the grandeur and drama that I’d been hoping for. From ho-hum to page-turning. I hope. There’s always the “day after” reread.
It occurs to me this is a very revealing writing solution in this time when we are all shut inside our houses. I’ll never know how much my mind was influenced by my internal need to get the heck out of here!
Archaeology I Enjoyed
Dining Like a Pompeiian
How to eat dinner like the last citizens of Pompeii. This NYT article from December dives into the tastes, textures and delicacies of Roman cuisine from the point of view of a modern chef. He overlays some ashy flavoring and coloring into the meal he prepared at the Ashmolean Museum to match the remnants of foods that were on display at the museum and in homage to the tragic experience, but at its core are recipes familiar to Apicius, the Roman cookbook chef.
This menu is decidedly ancient Roman, even with the modern riffs: “Alongside the blackened bread, made with Puglian burnt wheat, heritage spelt and activated charcoal (for color), the meal began with a shimmering, lava-esque lump of butter infused with squid ink, prawns and ponzu. “It’s the Bay of Naples in butter,” said Paul Roberts, the curator of the Ashmolean exhibition, recalling a childhood visit to the ancient city. “And it tastes like a gulp of the sea.” Next, in keeping with the Pompeian penchant for seafood, was a briny dish of pickled mussels sitting in a lovage froth and seasoned with mussel cream and garum. Then, a riff on Roman staples — roast duck and turnips — finished with Pompeian red wine (which the town once produced and exported in abundance). Finally, dessert was a rich, goaty libum, a kind of sacrificial cheesecake the Romans would offer to household gods.”
The article is fun to read and let your sensory experience flow. Click here for NYT “How to Eat Dinner Like the Last Citizens of Pompeii”
Magic Amid the Ashes
“A Sorceress’ Kit Was Discovered in the Ashes of Pompeii.” This article in the Smithsonian Magazine calls the owner of the collection of tiny figurines and amulets a “sorceress” but that is a dramatic word for the collector of this fertility or fortune telling kit. It was a good choice for drawing lots of interest in this piece, but maybe slightly skewed in the context of Roman Pompeii. Now if we were talking Hittites, who were obsessed with sorcery, we’d be on firmer ground.
The small trove includes buttons made of bone, carved scarab beetles, miniature penises, crystals, tiny skulls and little dolls. It’s believed the objects may be part of a sorceress’ tool kit, but the “sorceress” was most likely not the mistress of the house—the now-gone wooden box held no gold or other flashy items that a wealthy Pompeiian would include. Therefore, the thinking goes, a slave probably put together this magic kit. They will study the DNA of the ten or so victims of the eruption found in this house, known as the Garden House, to determine familial relationships. The sorceress is likely among the bodies, but her DNA won’t identify her magical skills, unfortunately.
Click here for Smithsonian Magazine “A Sorceress’ Kit Was Discovered in the Ashes of Pompeii.”