Interesting corollary between the two things I did last night. What are those things, you ask? Writing, what else?
I had my edits for Her Demonic Majesty, and then the new work I’m doing on Diners at the Memory’s End. And it’s always back to the home with these groups . . .
One of the main points of Majesty involve enemy forces–aka, all these people pissed off at the person my main character has become–trying to take over an edifice known as The Castle. They eventually do take it, but only after smacking down a bunch of gargoyles (sorry, guys), and having to deal with a huge number of deadly wards inside. And even then . . . they don’t get to keep it, because the good guys come back and take it back.
Even though they have it back, the last few chapters of Part Three have them in fear they’d about to be attacked again. So with the last few chapters to go, they marshal their forces, put the boots to the bad guys–who, in this world, aren’t nearly as bad as my main character is known to be, but just gray as hell–and reestablish themselves as the keeps of the keys of The Castle.
In Memory’s End, several major scenes take place back at the house. It was the same way in Transporting, from whence these character first appeared. There is a very nice little home, albeit a very strange one, and there are a number of things that revolve around the two main characters interacting with each other in this environment. Sure, while I got them out of the house for Part Two of the story–and down to the cafe in their pajamas–but since they live in an arcology, it can be said they never really ventured very far from hearth and home.
Of course, there is also the question of one of the character’s in Memory’s End having access to his own–lets call it a Transatmospheric System Ship, which is a fancy way of saying, “You wanna see my spaceship?”, something one of my main characters does say to another woman. It’s his sanctum, a place he calls his own, and while he doesn’t spend as much time aboard this craft as it was used in Transporting, it plays and important part in the development of Memory’s End.
Like it or not, in both stories I have a bunch of home-bodies. In both cases the homes aren’t what you and I might conceive as a home, but there it is, they have places where they can fall back to, kick back, slip into something comfy, and relax. Sure, one home has gargoyles sitting on the roof, waiting to kill anyone who gets stupid and tries to break in, and the other hangs off the side of a cliff with nothing but empty space for about a mile below, but they are homes. They are sanctuaries for my characters, and boy, do they love them.
With all the moving back and forth that I’ve been doing the last few months, I can understand the need for a place where one can go and say, “This is mine.” Right now, I don’t feel as if I have that. I feel transitory, like I’m constantly in the process of going from one place to another. I have nowhere I can really say is mine any longer.
Then again, it’s not the destination, is it? It’s always the journey. It’s always about how you get where you’re going.
My characters don’t know where they’re going, but I do. They’re not always going to enjoy the journey, but they’ll come out stronger in the end.
As for my own journey–
Hey, I’m just getting started. And it’s going to be interesting.