Mr Stargazer, the Writer Plagued

Hello readers!

It is now approaching the half-way point of October. At the start of this month, I spoke of two things: firstly there were my plans to republish the Necromancer; and secondly, there was the news that the Magical Realm would only see old posts being bumped up. Both things have so far held true.

I have bumped up two posts that I thought merited your attention: my review of the Lady Midnight, and my popular post entitled On Editing. I hope that you found them to your interest, if you did not read them; if you already read them, apologies, but I have been extremely busy.

You see, I have done a substantial amount of work on the new edition of the Necromancer. There is a new ending! And—a rewritten prologue. Various other changes have been made; and more remain to be made. I hope to make some changes to certain elements of the story; to remove certain chapters that shouldn’t have been included, and to rework others that are in need of rethinking. I hope to have completed the work by the end of this month—and to republish the Necromancer by Halloween.

That said, however, this is no easy task. One reason for this is my move—due to various causes I am moving to a single room. This has uprooted me greatly; and I have spent much time and effort carrying furniture, clothing, and other victuals of civilised life.

I also needed to buy many things. A fridge, for of course the housing association had not bothered to include such a necessity. Nor did they bother to include chairs, or tables. I even have to buy a light fitting for the bathroom. It will suffice to say that my opinion of the housing association is poor—I will avoid the temptation to break into profanity.

On top of that, there has been university work, and working with the Scriptus editors to finalise my pieces before the deadline.

I have also submitted two collections of my poetry to two journals; I hope to hear from them soon.

So, as you can see, I am all too busy. You will forgive me—I think—for saying that I will be bumping up more old posts over the course of this month. After all, I still have a wardrobe and a bed to make, plus more pieces of furniture to procure.

But look at the bright side—you will get to discover many interesting posts buried deep in the archives, and at the end of this month, you will have the opportunity to read a new version of the Necromancer.

Until then, may the stars be with you. (And dare I say—may they be with me!)

On Editing

As part of my October series, I am reposting posts from the archives of the Magical Realm. This particular post was published in August, and is out of date with regards to my current activities; however, the information it presents is still important, and many of you have found it interesting.

My Experience with my Editor

If you haven’t been following this blog for long, here’s the situation: a couple of weeks ago I hired an editor through the Reedsy platform. (Incidentally, I am getting quite enamoured with it: I have already benefitted from free advice on the cover design of the Necromancer, and have gotten the interest of a company called Publishizer through them.)

My editor firstly began work with me on the query letter. I already wrote on the process a while ago. Suffice to say that I found her very helpful in getting the query right.

But of course, the main reason I hired her was to help me with the Ark. I can confirm that she has both given me a substantial (20-page) assessment, along with inline comments in the document proper. Both have been useful; the former especially. She has, in particular, suggested three things:

1. That Casey’s personality, and especially his voice, is not sufficiently distinct from Conall’s;
2. She has suggested I give more backstory to Kaylin, and clarify her motives more;
3. She has suggested I ease up on the language and poetic elements.

She has also given me feedback on other minutiae: she has suggested I change names, work on pacing and timing, and put more focus on explaining the 22nd century in discussions (rather than talking about the last century!)

Of course I do not agree with all of her feedback. She has for example suggested that I make the world more futuristic; I deemed this unrealistic and beyond the remit of the story.

But on the whole, her feedback has been very useful. She has identified flaws I subconsciously suspected but needed expert advice on—as well as finding flaws and areas of improvement that I did not envisage. For that, she was worth the $600 plus 10% Reedsy fee. Or at least it was for me; your milage may of course vary.

One thing to note is that an editorial assessment is NOT beta-reader feedback—and nor is it a replacement. Beta-reader feedback is more personal, more subjective, and treats the novel as a holistic whole. A good beta-reader will tell you what they like—perhaps in the general direction of the plot and their opinion of the main characters.

An editorial assessment isn’t about that. An editor, like mine, will say very little in the way of her personal feelings on the book (except in some instances where it is directly relevant: she highlighted chapter seven as an example). Instead, an editor will focus on specific, practical, and skills-dependent elements. She will tell you whether a character lacks backstory, whether there is too much exposition, and so on; and she will go all the way down to the lower levels of a story’s structure, treating the issue of grammar and syntax (even individual paragraphs and sentences) along with specific recommendations on removing scenes, changing points of view, and all the varied minutiae that make up a book.

From here on in, I will discuss some of her specific advice, and the specific revisions I will be making as a consequence. But first: a question you may have.

Why Reedsy?

I could have looked for (and indeed already found) editors without the help of Reedsy. By hiring them directly I would have removed 10% off the cost—which can be especially significant for larger projects.

So why didn’t I? Well, the simple answer is that Reedsy is an excellent resource. It makes everything that much more convenient; it provides a substantial list of editors from which to choose, and let’s you search by the genre that the editors specialise in (which is important in my case). This saves me a fair bit of time and allows me to find competitive offers.

It is also very useful for making contacts. One way in which they do this is through their recently begun live videos. They take an expert—last week it was cover designer, this week an editor—and have them discuss a particular topic. Last week I received feedback on the cover for the Necromancer, as well as being privy to what other book covers did right and wrong among the cohort. This week I listened to an interesting talk about the ins and outs of worldbuilding.

Reedsy has also put me in contact with Publishizer—a company that specialises in crowdfunding books. I will say no more on this (it’s a secret) but what I will say is that I am very curious to see what happens.

The Workings of the Ark

I have compiled an extensive revision plan on the basis of my editors’ feedback. Below is an abridged version.

1. I have decided to significantly alter Casey’s narrative voice and dialogue—particularly in the earlier scenes. I have already edited and/or rewritten a number so far. The basic idea of my edits is this: his expressions and thoughts are a little too complex and too poetic for him. I am rewriting him with a focus on being more direct, less verbose, and tending towards language is that is less flowery. I believe this will contrast sharply with Conall’s voice (which if anything I making a little more poetic) and make the characters more distinct.
2. I am writing additional backstory for Kaylin.
3. I have introduced an extra plot device; this I will use to heighten the conflict of the two protagonists, introduce additional tension in the book as a whole, and I will specifically apply to some of the weaker chapters. (Naturally, I’m not telling you what this plot device is; you’ll have to see for yourself!)
4. I am changing some names, because too many of them start with C; they have become confusing to the reader.
5. I am changing some of the discussion.
6. And various other minor changes.

So, that’s the gist of my revision so far. I will be implementing these changes over the course of my stay here, particularly when I will be away in the countryside and will have no Internet. Let me tell you: it is not an insignificant amount of work.

The Art of Editing

Finally, I shall discuss some of the more abstract principles of editing at the end of this post.

The following is not a comprehensive insight into all that goes on in editing, but it does cover some of what has struck me most strongly while working on the Ark—and before that, the Necromancer.

If there is one maxim that applies more truly than any other, it’s that writing is in the re-writing. Rewriting is where you discover hidden potential in your prose; like a diamond covered by dust, your job when editing is to brush away the dust, find what is beautiful, and get rid of what is less than shiny.

The catch, of course, is that there must be potential locked underneath the original prose. If there isn’t, re-writing potentially allows you to start from scratch. But the key caveat is that it might allow you; often, however, if the original prose has no redeeming features, then it isn’t worth the effort to re-write it. Just get rid of it. (Indeed, for some writers, this may mean getting rid of an entire book. That’s one of the downsides of writing, and art in general.)

Then there’s the difference between re-writing vs editing. The former is ultimately a destructive process; you can certainly re-write prose to bring out its potential—to bring it closer to your creative vision—but the prose is of a different character afterwards. Editing, if done right, preserves the overall character of the prose. But editing is also limited in scope.

Editing can be about changing a particular word choice, or to replace a misused semicolon, but sometimes a full re-write is necessary. Being able to tell when a piece of prose requires rethinking some words, or a full re-write, is a skill I am still learning to master. I suspect it will improve with experience.

The last maxim I shall leave you with (for today, at least) is that a character’s voice is dependent not only on what he says, but also how he says it. One may say ‘he saw the boy, attired in the manner of a king, and was filled with a terrible yearning; what wealth, he thought—and what artistry! He could never hope to emulate him. He was too anodyne for that, too uncultured.’ Or you can say: ‘Damn, that boy knew how to dress. I could never hope to copy him; he was like a goddamn king. Next to him, I looked homeless.’

These two pieces of prose say much the same thing; yet the style in which they are written leads to stark differences in their character and feel. The former prose sounds like it was written by an aristocrat, or a famous 18th century writer; the latter is typical of modern teenagers. (Well, perhaps a relatively intelligent modern teenager.)

Anyway! That’s it for now. I will be publishing more posts in the near future: one will likely be about editing (once more) and the other on the current state of British politics, particularly in the Tory party. Until then, keep following. I am performing a great deal of work on the Ark—some of which you will even get to see before publication—and I will be releasing a number of photos of Romania in the not too distant future.

A Review of the Lady Midnight

Hello readers! As previously stated, October will see old posts from the Magical Realm reposted. This review I published some seven months ago; I have no doubt some of you have not read it, so consider this a chance to get up to speed with more of my blog writing.

Ah, another day, another Cassandra Clare novel. Or should I say, another year, another Cassandra Clare? Sadly, the author’s writing speed is less than fantastic; which is a pity, but one ought remember the old adage here. Quality not quantity. And if we have to wait close to a year for the sequel, so be it; it makes the Lady Midnight that much sweeter.

Speaking of which, the Lady Midnight is indeed an excellent story. I don’t give out 5* star reviews for nothing, you know. If you want to know why, read on…

Some Background

I feel that before I really begin, I feel it is necessary to share some background into what exactly Lady Midnight is. Those of you familiar with the Mortal Instruments series will certainly know some of the characters—Jace and Clary, Magnus, and others all feature. But the Lady Midnight is concerned with other, hitherto more minor characters: Emma Carstairs and the Blackthorns.

Essentially, the story concerns the mystery of how Emma’s parents died, and if and how they may be related to the string of murders that have just occurred. That is the ostensible side of the story, anyway. But a great deal of the tale is devoted to Emma, and her parabatai, Julian.

The parabatai is basically a kind of bonding magic, held in the form of the parabatai rune, that allows the two parabatai to feel what the other feels; to draw stronger runes on their partners; and, in the case that they happen to fall in love—a thing very much verboten by the Clave—then they are able to wield a power more akin to warlocks.

Anyway, with that out of the way, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty.

Characters

The Lady Midnight excels in many areas, but here it shines most of all. The characters are—masterful. Simply masterful.

Emma, the chief protagonist, is portrayed down to perfection: she is a strong, intelligent, and perceptive woman. Not only is she fierce and rather likable, but Clare manages to capture her personality in her words, actions and thoughts down to a T.

Julian, her parabatai and lover, is more interesting still. He’s remarkably complex, conflicted, and compelling. At twelve years old, he effectively took responsibility for his brothers and sisters; he became, for all intents and purposes, their father.

The person who was meant to be taking care of them was, unfortunately, a lunatic. So not only did Julian have to take care of his siblings—but he also effectively ran the Institute.

To top it all off, his older brother was taken by the Hunt (which I can best describe as kind of like faerie Cossacks) and his older sister was exiled.

These experiences render Julian remarkably old for his age; he wields a maturity and foresight that would shame some adults, never mind a teenager.

What really strikes out from Julian, though—even beyond his maturity—is his love. Firstly, he loves his siblings; he loves them with an intensity that is poignant to experience, and gives the Lady Midnight a powerful family dynamic. But he also loves Emma; loves her as a parabatai, and doubly so as a romantic partner.

The combined effect of this can leave one rather breathtaken.

Beyond Emma and Julian, though, there are a number of immaculately drawn and compelling characters. Malcom Fade—a Warlock, and friends with the Blackthorns—has a curiously eccentric personality intermixed with a stranger, darker nature.

Mark Blackthorn, the exiled brother, is half-faerie and half-Shadowhunter. Both of his natures are captured expertly. He is at once the Shadowhunter: not only fierce, but caring, vulnerable and powerfully attached to his family. But he also the faerie; mysterious, wild, and strangely compelling.

I’ve already mentioned the family dynamic between Julian, Emma and the numerous other siblings within the Blackthorn family. But it’s worth making this point explicity: their family is a wonderful creation of sibling love, rivalry, and loyalty.

Aside from all this, there are a number of more miscellaneous elements I’ve picked up on.

Firstly, there are several gay and bisexual characters. There’s Mark; his lover; there’s Helen; and there’s even Kit, a character whom we meet in the beginning and the end. All of them have romantic feelings that are poignant and heartbreakingly romantic—Mark most of all.

I must, however, take issue with the number of gay and bisexual characters. Yes, I know some people will cry mutiny when I say this, but it’s true: gay people—of which I am one—are not common. Bisexual men are very rare indeed, but there are appear to be two of them in Lady Midnight, possibly more.

I love the fact that gay characters feature: but I’m worried that Cassandra Clare (or perhaps more likely Simon & Schuster) are using them as a marketing gimmick. Gay characters are at that strange border line between too controversial to be mainstream and too normal to be taken as particularly noteworthy. They’re controversial; they interest people. Which is great, but it’s not something I’d want taken advantage of.

Anyway, overall, the characters are a work of art.

Plot

The Lady Midnight is not a disappointing novel. The plot, while not quite perfect, is still worthy of my 5*.

The main reason why is to do with its varied and unexpected turns. You can never quite see where it’ll go; it’s as unpredictable as a snake, and just as dangerous. Every piece of action is fast and energetic—and slower scenes are suffused with expectation.

The plot is also paced well. There are no moments when the action begins to overwhelm, and nor does the tale ever drag to a juddering halt. Things progress smoothly.

If there’s anything that falls a little short, it’s really to do with the scope of the book. The Lady Midnight has a fascinating tale to tell, but I can’t help that it both lacks the scope and power of the Mortal Instruments series—and that this is because the real story is yet to come.

The Lady Midnight is to do with more than just the death of Emma’s parents. It’s to do with an ancient Shadowhunter Law; it’s really, at its heart, about Emma and Julian.

Still: considering that this is the first book, I think I can let Clare off the hook.

Worldbuilding

The Mortal Instruments was a fascinating, imaginative and compelling world; the Lady Midnight is no different.

The Shadowhunters are as interesting as ever. There’s something about their fierce, warrior-like culture intermixed with their harsh laws and religious adherence to virtues that inevitably draws the interest. And of course, their magic is fascinating—Clare’s magic-system of runes is both coherent and clearly defined, and yet still manages to surprise you.

But I find the Warlocks especially interesting. Maybe I’m just sucker for magic; for power that amazes and inspires awe.

There are also the usuals. Vampires feature, though only modestly, and so do werewolves.

The faeries are the last piece of the puzzle. The Mortal Instruments, in truth, didn’t really pay that much attention to them; they were more a detail rather than a key feature of the world. But the Lady Midnight brings out a world of faerie detail.

Their personalities are what I find especially grabbing. The faeries, as in the tales of old, are fickle and wild and dangerous; but they are also capable of love, and regret, and have a sense of what is good. If any of you reading have ever read Julie Kagawa, well; you’ll be right at home.

Writing

Cassandra Clare writes with eloquence and skill; there’s a great deal of imagery in the Lady Midnight, and it is… inspiring.

I was particularly fond of the descriptions of the desert—I had a powerful sense that Clare knew what deserts were like. More than that: I understood deserts, and I’ve never had the pleasure of seeing one.

This, however, would make Clare’s writing merely good. What makes it very good is the fact that it can bring a whole new dimensions to that which you thought you knew. The sea, for example, is a wild thing here: a place of magic, of the wild abandon of the elements, and of death.

It’s not quite brilliant. I’ve seen better. But, hey: I only require that 5* books be fantastic, not perfect. There is a difference.

Conclusion

I’ve decided it’s not worth boring you all with a long conclusion when, frankly, the message is simple. The Lady Midnight is a great book written by an obviously talented and experienced story teller. You’d be silly not to read it.

Still, it may be worth waiting. S&S have priced the ebook at £7, which seems a little high for my liking. Then again: if a bad book isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on, and a good book is worth every penny, then a great book is worth its weight in gold.