Oh, sure, the title makes no sense, does it? Of course it doesn’t–now. It probably won’t later, either, but it’s a fun title, so lets run with it.
I do a run-through yesterday about what I did Saturday, getting a story ready for writing. I’m good with the post–it was a good one for me, because a lot of people wonder what writers do to get a story ready, what they do for research, and so on. In the end I posted a picture of what my Scrivener cork board looked like when it was all said and done, and I was very happy with it–
Until I was doing something in the bedroom about an hour later. It was there, while I was in the middle of–something, damned if I remember now–when I start talking out some dialog for the story–yes, I do this; yes, I’m strange–and I was going over a part of Diners that I didn’t include in my setup. Oh, my stars and garters! And it was a new chapter that I’d discussed in another post:
On her way to see Albert, Cytheria stops at the Special Talents Department building, and goes into a “testing chamber”. She completely loses it, and begins destroying everything there, using a combination of telekinesis, cryokinesis, and even biokinesis. It’s implied that if the room was not made of electromagnetic shielding, she might have damaged the walls. In the end she cries, finally letting go of her pent up anger and sadness. It’s indicated that had she not “let herself go” here, she might have done something that could have killed Albert, or someone else. Or many other people.
Damn, I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten that. So I had to go back and put that part in, and now my burgeoning story is a full sixteen parts, and it’s all said and done.
This also shows what I love about Scrivener, which is being able to modify things quickly. I needed a new part, I duplicate an existing part, make a few title changes, and I’m really to rock and roll. Took me all of about three minutes, more or less. My mind wandered–crazy writer.
But I hear you out there. You’re staying, “Ray, that’s well and good–but where’s the bacon?”
It’s coming right up.
The last couple of weeks I’ve been working on the final edit of Her Demonic Majesty, my NaNo Novel, and I have been going through the story very nicely. Last night I edited about 6,500 words in two chapters, and had a very good time doing so.
It brought up an interesting Facebook post, though.
After I finished the edit, I jumped on Facebook and said the following:
Just finished editing Chapter Twelve of “Demonic Majesty”, going through 3770 words. Love this chapter, because it has my daylight-walking, bacon eating, lesbian vampire. Woot!
This brought about a comment from someone else a few minutes later:
Bacon-eating, I’m confused, I thought vampire were supposed to comsume blood.
can see why you’re confused, so allow me to explain:
During NaNoWriMo, I was hanging out in a Facebook group with one of my friends, and during that evening a couple of women started in on ripping apart Twilight. Frankly, I give not two shits about the story, or if it’s poorly written, or if the characters suck. The book isn’t marketed for me, and Stephenie Meyer can write any damn thing she likes.
But in the process of the “discussion”–which was really a lot of crap by these two women saying the book should be banned, and that Meyer should be allowed to publish–they started attacking my friend who, frankly, has read the books, and was making a certain point about one of the characters.
Longer story short, one of the women began making cracks about how Meyer didn’t do her homework when it came to vampires, particularly when you have them–gasp!–walking around during the daytime! So I wrote a post where I nailed her ass to a headboard for being a stupid person–and for even thinking that if you write, you should be banned if your stuff isn’t up to your snuff–and began thinking about the vampire I was creating for my NaNo Novel.
Diana Boucher is a vampire. She lives in a world that is an alternate Earth, where the physical laws are such that magic is pretty common, and vampires do exist. But she’s decidedly different from majority of bloodsuckers you see in print in this world.
Chapter Twelve of my novel brings all the main characters together over breakfast, and it not only finds them bonding after a very difficult first day, but shows a few of the differences between our world–the world of Jeannette Hagart, who now finds herself stuck in the body of a sorceress that many people seem to want dead–and the world of Diana and Chantel Fontanella, a succubus bound to the woman that Jeannette had become.
All that brought about this scene, which I have to say makes me proud. So, if you like, gaze upon my bacon eating vampire . . . excerpt from Chapter Twelve, Her Demonic Majesty, copyright 2011, 2012, by Raymond Frazee, all rights reserved:
“I had something to do with that,” said a voice from the hallway. A moment later Diana strolled in, wearing the robe from last night and a pair of slippers. “Morning, ladies.” She headed straight for the stove and examined the fair. “Oh, this looks tasty.” She picked out a strip of bacon, then turned to her guests. “Who cooked?”
“I did,” Chantel said as a flabbergasted Jeannette looked on.
“Fantastic.” She consumed half the strip and proceeded to chew it slowly. “Mmmm, I need to pick up more of this. Really excellent.”
Jeannette couldn’t remain silent any longer. “What are you doing?”
Diana held up the strip. “Having some bacon.” She devoured the rest and fished out a second strip. “I love bacon.”
“I mean, what are you doing?” Jeannette pointed to the windows. “It’s . . . you’re not suppose to be up!”
“Why not?”
“It’s daytime!”
Diana grabbed a plate, helped herself to eggs and beans, then grabbed four more strips before heading for the island. “Yes, it is.” She set down her plate, then scurried over to pour herself a cup of coffee.
“There’s daylight!” Jeannette wondered why Chantel wasn’t bothered. “You should be asleep!”
“I was. But I woke up.” Diana pulled up a stool and began eating. “I only needed about an hour—”
“You can walk around in the daytime?” Jeannette asked.
“Is there a law against that?” Diana turned to Chantel. “Great breakfast: thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Chantel asked Jeannette, “Don’t vampires walk around in the daytime in your realm?”
“Um . . .” Okay, how to put this? “There are no vampires in my world—no real ones.” Wondering if she was going to offend her companions, Jeannette said, “In my world vampires are a fiction: they aren’t real.”
Diana stopped in mid-chew. “Not real? At all?”
“No. They’re only in stories and in movies and on TV. That’s it.” She knew she better tell them everything. “We don’t have werewolves—lupine, either. Or spirits. Or . . .” She tried not looking at Chantel.
Demons?” Chantel asked.
“No. We don’t have those, either.”
“Either way, what’s the big deal?” Diana said, shrugging. “Why are you so surprised?”
“Because when we talk about vampires, it’s . . . ah, how to put this?” Yes, Jeannette thought. How to put them when I have no idea how things work in this world, and I’m going to end up looking like some back-assward idiot— “Writers often view vampirism as a curse, and as such they can’t be in out in sunlight. It burns them.” She picked at her breakfast. “Usually into ashes.”
“Sunlight kills them?” Chantel asked.
“What?” Diana’s face screwed up in utter disbelief. “That’s stupid! Why would people think that?”
“It wasn’t always that way—” Jeannette never thought she’d had a conversation about what was “right” about vampires with a vampire. “There was this movie, and they needed an ending. So . . .” She made a whooshing sound while slowly spreading open her hands. “Vampires die in sunlight.”
“Oh, Para.” Diana lowered her head in her hand for a moment and began shaking from laughter. “Oh, well, if you don’t have vampires, I guess you would need to make up everything.”
“So I take it you have no vampire . . .” Chantel was having difficulty saying the word. “Stories where vampires can go out in daylight?”
Why me? “Yeah, but . . .” Jeannette sighed loud and long. “There are, but people—a lot of people—kinda look down on them. It’s sort of thought as . . .” Yeah, how do I explained that sort of slur when I’ve got a hermaphrodite working for me? “It’s not considered . . . they’re not considered real vampires.”
Now Diana truly looked puzzled. “Since vampires don’t exist in your world, isn’t the notion of whether one type is more ‘real’ than another irrelevant?” She forked some beans and egg into her mouth. “Your people are strange . . . Jeannette.”
“Yeah, well, that’s Hate Dumb for you.” She picked up her coffee. “And you should probably stick with Merta. You don’t want to slip up in front of the wrong people.”
There you have it. Bacon can ever make vampires nicer people. And Diana looks very nice in a long dress and veil.
But that’s another chapter for another day.
