Friday Updates

I am a little ashamed of this edition of Friday updates as it is not as successful a report as I would like to convey! Once again I am struggling with the pressure to write very quickly but still attending to my other obligations. Nonetheless, I am trying not to judge myself on the lack of chapters written (in the meantime wondering why I set these goals for myself when I know they probably won’t happen).

I wanted to get Resistance done through Chapter 10 by the end of this week as I leave for Colorado tomorrow. It was a rather achievable goal as it required me to write one chapter per day for each day of this work week (my usual pace). However, things got hectic, as I fully knew they would. I had social obligations pop up, an out of town appointment yesterday, and general French Bulldog disasters most days. Plus, I still haven’t packed for my trip (a usual procrastination). Resistance sits calmly waiting for me to pick up and write Chapter 8, and with the to-do list I have for today I’ll be lucky if I get even that done.

All that being said, I still feel good about the manuscript. It is very dark this time around and thus it is harder to submerge myself in the material. The characters are going through some experiences that are hard to write about, but their emotions after these experiences have happened are even harder to convey. I don’t want to stereotype their reactions, or worse (in my opinion) archetype their reactions. I want these characters to be genuine and authentic; while there is, to some extent, an archetypal element in all forms of human behavior, it is important to know about it but still deviate from it in some way that is unique and speaks to your characters. That has been a struggle, but a rewarding one as it forces me to think deeply about the characters as a whole. This third book has a very different feel; I wanted it to be purposefully disorienting both to give the readers a sense of how much Runey and Mara are going through and also to give the book a sense of desperation and urgency. Throughout the trilogy the threat has been veiled and that veil has been sliding off slowly but surely throughout the series–now it has been yanked off to reveal the horrible things it was covering before. It’s a hard thing to deal with as a writer. Gravity and urgency makes for a difficult balance to maintain. And that, friends, is the best I can do to explain myself and lake of prolific-ness with this MS.

Agent updates: Nothing really new to report. I am hearing back from a few queries in the form of denials. The agent who requested my full manuscript has not gotten back to me yet and we are nearing the two month mark in which either she promised to respond and if not I am supposed to drop her a line reminding her. This deadline makes me both nervous and excited. What if I email her only to find out she never got the manuscript as it went to spam or whatnot and thus I have to wait another two months after re-submitting?? Lots of “what-ifs”! I continue to have nothing but great things to say about the agents I met at the WLT Conference. One of them dropped me a quick line to say he got my query and would respond again soon (unheard of!). And another emailed me to say the work wasn’t for him, but he would pass it on to someone in his agency who he thought might be a better fit. So impressed! They are actually real people, you guys! 🙂 Once I get back from vacation, I plan to start another round of querying. I want to try and challenge myself to write one query per day, every weekday. Let’s see if that goal goes by the way of my finishing Chapter 10 this week goal…haha.

I hope everyone has a great weekend! I am going to try and see if I can be technologically savvy enough to set up an automated post for Chapter 10 on Monday. I apologize in advance if I am not bright enough to figure that out. Adios!

“Remember Me Like This” by Bret Anthony Johnston

Wednesdays are always reserved for books that I have found inspirational to or have made an impact on me as a writer, and usually these books come from the vault of stellar past-read selections forever saved in my mind. However, today’s selection is a book I just finished last week. The novel is “Remember Me Like This,” by Bret Anthony Johnston, and I received my copy of it as a gift at the Writer’s League of Texas conference where Mr. Johnston was a speaker. First of all, Mr. Johnston was an extraordinary person–extremely friendly, charismatic and an excellent speaker. Thus, it came as no surprise that “Remember Me Like This” was just as special.

When I was on my vacation in California, I brought this along for beach reading. I actually ended up starting it while sitting in my car in a parking garage. I was meeting my friend, and she was running late stuck in traffic–normally this kind of situation would make me antsy and not in the right frame of mind to pick up a book. But there it was in the backseat, and, knowing LA traffic, I thought “Why not?” Suffice it to say, the book grabbed me from page 1 with its beautiful language encapsulating a compelling subject (isn’t that what the world of novels is all about??). I fell into this book and quickly became addicted. So much so that, once my friend arrived, I was a little disappointed it was time to put the book down and go shop–which, if any of you know me, that is quite a statement!

The story follows the aftermath of what happens to a family when their teenaged son returns home after being missing for four years. A kidnapping, the horrors of being held captive, the family’s search for their son and struggles to deal with the loss–most of this action is not even included in the book itself. It happens outside the realm of the pages, and there we have the very heart of this introspective novel. It is a book about what happens because of these events, not a book relaying the events themselves. This encourages readers to place themselves in the situation, to imagine the stress and sadness and instability that would result. The complicated aftermath of the son’s return is extremely compelling to me as I love exploring the imperfect aspects of humanity (see last post!). Each of the family member’s responds differently, and their actions are messy, complicated, and raw–in other words, completely human.

The treatment of the language is extremely literary despite the fact that Johnston writes about a solidly middle class family in the Texas community of Corpus Christi, so employing another of my favorite themes–elevating the ordinary. His sentences are tight and short but packed full of meaning. The long semi coloned, dashed or excessively comma-ed sentence is scarcely found in the work. I personally found that very refreshing and inspiring as many of my sentences in my MS tend to receive all of the lengthening treatments described above. “Remember Me Like This” taught me writing lessons as it entertained me.

Finally, Johnston’s marriage of the literary and commercial aspects of the novel was very, very well done. This is a book about a boy child who was kidnapped, held hostage, and subject to repeated rapes over four years–it’s a premise for the sensational airport paperbacks. Johnston uses this premise as a draw for readers, but it quickly becomes less of their focus as they are drawn into the incredible set of characters who play out the literary aspect of introspection beautifully. The horror is always there, lurking behind the characters, but it is their individual thoughts which take center stage. All the secondary, causal emotions and behaviors are Johnston’s focus. Curiously enough, we never hear the abducted son’s point of view. In my opinion, this was a good move as it draws the focus even more away from the sordid side of the story that human nature is bound to be morbidly curious about and instead draws focus more towards the literary beauty of this family’s will to survive.

Chapter 8 & 9 Musings

Before I write these author responses to my posted chapters of Capacitance, I always go back and re-read the chapter for a refresh (it’s hard to remember what I wrote nearly two books ago!). When I went back and started reading Chapter 8, I didn’t get through the whole thing because there is a point that I really wanted to make in response to my saying that some people aren’t perceiving Mara as a likable character. In Chapter 8, we see Runey making an effort towards Mara (despite his own mental distress). Although she is standoffish towards him, he still sticks up for her with the other group members, then even in his own mind he finds her strengths behind her weaknesses. While Mara may not be the most likeable person in these first few chapters, Runey’s perceptiveness allows the reader to perhaps view her differently than their first impression. Not only does it shed light on the potential for connection (another “Capacitance” term reference!) between the two, but it also demonstrates how perceptive Runey is–Runey’s inner monologue helps build strengths for both characters.

Chapter 8 is all about people’s imperfections. Runey explores Mara’s flaws and finds the strength behind them, and then he betrays a weakness of his own. How can we blame Runey for taking Juleia into his room when he finds her in his dorm hall? Runey’s response lends a human element to his mission to get to Mara–to be human is to err, and Runey becomes more complex as he is not completely perfect. The imperfections continue in Runey and Juleia’s exchange in bed. Here we see why their relationship might not have been perfect even were it allowed to continue. Juleia harbors jealousy–a fact that is not new to their relations as Runey is well versed in dealing with it. Through this exchange the reader is invited to go back in time and imagine how Runey and Juleia were before the story began, and hopefully they begin to wonder if Juleia was truly good for Runey in the first place. The questions brought up by Chapter 8 are many that we as humans are familiar with, and as always, it is great to lend more humanity to one’s fictional characters.

Chapter 9 is a nice parallel to Chapter 8 as we see Mara thinking about Runey now instead of vice versa. It is easy to see the correlation and differences. Runey and Mara are both fascinated with the others’ physical appearance and physical imagery is what dominates their thought processes at this time. However, whereas Runey is having to train his mind to focus on Mara, Mara’s mind is wandering to thoughts of Runey of its own free will–much to her consternation. The differences continue as we compare Runey and Juleia–clearly two people who crave a relationship in their life–to Mara’s feelings on the matter. When she meets Langdon in the elevator, the scene drives home for the reader even more that Mara is not interested in dating and sees the whole business as trivial. Possibly the reader is anticipating that, given Mara’s viewpoint on love, Runey will have a hard time achieving his mission.

Now I am going to switch gears entirely for one final train of thought–Mara in her lab. People have asked me how I make the lab scene sound so convincing and wonder if I have taken science classes or spent time in a lab myself. While I am very flattered that my prose comes off so convincingly, I must say that my best preparation for writing these scenes was from watching a lot of movies, reading a lot of books, and perhaps a Biochemistry 110 class during my college years (although the associated lab was much below Mara’s standards!). Imagination came into play as well. Writing science fiction, a writer has a certain amount of license. While I didn’t want my story to be too “tech-y” or futuristic, I did want it to contain some speculative elements. Thus we have slide drives, DNA sequencing programs, etc. Perhaps why this sounds so “convincing” is because the technology is not too outlandish, and I try not to lose readers by launching into an epic exposition bit where I explain the history, implementation, and meaning of all devices used. Last note: I nearly passed out writing the sequence where Mara draws her own blood. LOL. But seriously, I do not do well around needles/blood/hospitals in general. A fact which kept me out of the fascinating field of medicine, but allowed me to pursue writing instead. 🙂 Book review coming tomorrow, stay tuned!

Capacitance: Chapter 9

Back to back Capacitance  chapter posts? Lucky, lucky followers! 🙂 I just hit 200 likes on my Facebook page over the weekend!! Thanks for all the support, I truly appreciate it! As always, if there are any comments or suggestions you have regarding Capacitance, I would love to hear them! Enjoy your Monday, and enjoy Chapter 9!

Chapter 9

As one who was not a frequent drinker, Mara was feeling the effects of the previous nights’ wine in the form of acute pain in her stomach and head the next morning. On top of that, she felt even more pessimistic about her lab discoveries; Travers’ words came floating back to her like some kind of horrid nightmare, “In this kind of hostile takeover mutation, we are talking death within days or maybe a week…” and “it could be possible for cells to mutate on so many levels that the Meditrinum would be unable to catch up with the repairs…” Mara knew her mind was mincing what Travers had said into a tabloid-hysteria, worst case scenario summation, but she couldn’t shake the impending sense of danger, and the enormous sense of pressure she felt to find and solve the problem immediately. A small voice in the back of her mind coyly whispered that maybe she would go to investigate the mutation and find that it was nothing serious, and all this panic was for nothing. Mara knew she couldn’t take that voice seriously, but she let it play in her mind, providing some sort of floodgate to the rising panic.

As if he was able to read her mind, Mara suddenly received a message from Travers, ”Hope you’re doing ok today, and I’m not just talking about the after effects of the wine! Remember, Mara, you can always come to me about anything. I’m here for you. –P.T.” Immediately after receiving that message, another one from Travers—an afterthought—dinged into her inbox,
“Oh, and, Mara, don’t forget what I said about Runey. –P.T.”

Mara sighed; the last thing she needed to think about in the wake of this crisis was unprofessional, arrogant Runey with his interesting combination of olive gold skin and red hair, deep blue eyes, and that infuriatingly distracting half smile—cursing, Mara shook her head in frustration. Without even meaning or wanting to, she had been distracted by Runey; Travers did not understand that this was a very bad thing. She had no time for distractions, especially now. Whatever Runey’s elusive allure was—which she still couldn’t wrap her mind around just what it was—she needed to avoid it at all costs. This was one piece of advice from Travers she simply couldn’t follow at the moment.

She pulled on the jade green silk robe once again as she padded across the deep, snowy shag of her bedroom rug and through to the cool, gleaming hardwood of the kitchen. She depressed two slices of bread into the toaster, and poured herself a glass of orange juice from the well-stocked stainless steel refrigerator. Once the toast popped up, she buttered it liberally to soothe her aching stomach. After allowing herself a leisurely amount of time for breakfast, considering the circumstances, she went to her bathroom to prepare for the day; she quickly emerged, imperceptibly less put together than the day before as she was on a time budget but still well dressed in an ensemble of rich burgundy and taupe. She neatly packed her lab files into a matching chocolate brown leather tote and headed towards her door. She had just twisted the knob when she faintly heard the loud ping of her phone back in the depths of her apartment. Mara walked back in scanning the shining black kitchen countertops, checked the white marble surfaces in her bathroom, and was becoming very frustrated when she finally found the phone submerged in the dove gray silk of her sheets. She tapped to open the messages and was very annoyed to read one from Runey, “Hey, Mara. I know we didn’t get much of a chance to talk yesterday. How about we meet up this evening? –R.”

She absolutely refused to message him back; she quite frankly did not have time to socialize with the distraction. Mara realized she had not responded to Travers either in her foggy, slightly hung over waking moments. Exasperated with herself and with Runey, on top of being anxious to get to her lab, she decided to put a moratorium on communication for the day. Tossing her phone back into the pile of twisted, shining sheets she thought wryly, Take the day off, buddy; wish I could too. Feeling slightly more liberated and focused without her phone, she strode purposefully out of her apartment to the elevator terminal. Her sense of focus was quickly shattered as Langdon entered the elevator terminal at the same time as Mara; there was no way to avoid him, and Mara cringed inwardly as he pressed the down button with a flourish and flashed his brilliantly perfect smile at her.

“Morning, Mara,” he said, awkwardly attempting to touch her arm at the same time as Mara instinctively moved away, “How was yesterday? As bad as you thought it would be?” he smirked, feigning a casual stretch in attempts to pass off his attempted pass at Mara.

Mara smirked back at him—he looked ridiculous trying to play it casual, “As a matter of fact, it was worse,” she said truthfully.

“Worse? Come on Mar,” Langdon said, having recovered his composure, “Yeah I know it is like we talked about, and they’ve tied up a lot of our time with this group thing; but it’s not all bad. I actually think it is going to be helpful in my future career to make connections. Plus, my group and I already started talking about our project ideas—we are going to strongly incorporate biochem, so in a way it is like I will have two projects to present upon graduation. Sure, I will have to buckle down and work some late nights to get my individual project done, but I think this group thing will put me way ahead of the game,” he continued as they stepped into open elevator.

“Congratulations,” Mara said shortly, pressing the ground floor button impatiently and then staring resolutely at the closed doors.

“That’s not the only good thing. There’s this girl from Design in my group—strawberry blonde hair down to here,” Langdon said slyly, touching Mara in the small of the back, “She has tattoos of a school of koi fish on her shoulder blade and down her back. I wonder how far down they go?” Langdon continued, assessing Mara coolly.

“Langdon, what is it about elevators that makes you lose every ounce of professionalism?” Mara asked, rolling her eyes.

“Jealous, are you? Well I have to get it somewhere, since I can’t have what I really want,” Langdon said jokingly, but Mara could sense the icy edge in his voice. At that moment she realized Langdon was actually serious about his feelings towards her—it was a strange sensation. She had always assumed that everyone saw love and relationships as she did, just a triviality and a distraction, not to be a serious consideration in one’s choices through life. Maybe I do need to open my mind to other perspectives, she thought. However, she wouldn’t be opening herself to Langdon’s perspective anytime soon. Even if she was interested, she was sure she would still find his approaches a little uncouth. The elevator softly settled on the ground floor and the doors slid open. Langdon was obviously unnerved by Mara’s prolonged silence as he said, “I’m just joking around, Mara. Why don’t we go get some coffee before labbing down?”

Mara was sorely tempted by coffee—she had forgotten to fill a thermos before she left her apartment, and she knew a hit of caffeine would chase away her last traces of the wine hangover. However, the thought of sitting down with Langdon—tedious in itself—and wasting precious lab time was not palatable, so she made a compromise, “How about we just grab some from the café on the way out of SciSky and take it to go? I really have a lot to do today and I need to get to it.”

Langdon visibly brightened that he got anything but a flat denial, “Sure! My treat!” The two walked across the atrium of SciSky; early morning light splashed across the various shops, salons and gyms and the calming splash of trickling water on the abstract glass and stone water feature filled the air. The busiest portion of the atrium was the coffee shop where the most ambitious Science students were already grabbing their coffees before starting their day. Langdon ordered for both Mara and himself (Mara shuddered internally when he knew her standard latte order without having to ask), and soon the two were out the wide glass doors and on their way to the labs. It didn’t take long to reach The Portal from SciSky, and Mara was glad of the short walk, and the fact that Langdon took a different elevator to get to his lab—she was growing tired of his double-edged small talk. After thanking Langdon for the coffee, Mara was glad to sip it in solitude as the elevator sunk slowly to her lab level.

Mara once again walked down the familiar hallway, punched in the familiar code and swiped her palm. She flicked on the lights in the lab and powered up the computers. By the lab’s entrance, there was a double-sided hatch in the wall where laboratory dispensary materials were placed when they were delivered; the techs from LabLink would prepare the materials, and send them with a courier to the various labs that had requested them. When Mara ordered the materials she had to assign a PIN code to her order and then program her drop box with that code. When the courier brought the sample, he keyed in the PIN code on a small keypad in the hall which opened the exterior door to receive the sample. The hatch was also climate controlled so the operator could set the interior temperature to sample specifications if necessary. Now Mara went and keyed in the code she had assigned to her LabLink dispensary order of Meditrinum blood samples; the metal door of the hatch slid open and cool air pooled out slowly onto Mara’s face as she reached inside and removed the plastic rack containing ten vials of deep red blood samples.

She reset the hatch to shut off the refrigeration and wipe the code, and then took her fresh samples to her main refrigeration unit. Now she had to prepare the samples to go through the sequencing program. Walking to the far wall of her lab, Mara threw on her long white lab jacket, opened a stainless steel cabinet and removed a box labeled “Blank Slide Drives” which she brought over to the main lab work station. The main lab work station was a counter height table on which sat a microscope and several racks of instruments. Mara sat the box of blank slide drives down next the microscope, and went to get the blood samples. The task at hand was to draw a sample of each blood type and insert it carefully into the slide drive. Slide drives were small, fragile devices made of glass and metal which contained a tiny computer chip; when this was inserted into the computer portal, data on the current state of the specimen could be seen and many different tests could be run on the sample. First, Mara inspected each slide drive carefully under her microscope, checking for cracks or defects—these were rare in slide drives used at the University, as the equipment here was of the highest quality, but it was important to check all the same as a crack could lead not only to the waste of a sample, but would also cause computer malfunction if inserted into the device.

The next step was to insert the sample into the slide drive. Mara used a syringe with an ultra-fine needle to remove a sample from one of the test vials of Meditrinum blood, and then, looking through her microscope, stuck the point of the needle into a minutely marked spot on the slide drive. This special entry point could only be punctured once, as it would self-seal infallibly after one initial puncture; slide drives had to be soldered shut in their earlier days, but the self-seal invention did away with that—Mara supposed she had the people in the school of Technology to thank for that. All in all, the process of preparing the slide drives was quite simple if one had a steady hand and sharp eyes; Mara had both of these skills, so quite rapidly she had slide drives from all ten blood samples. But she was not finished yet.

She didn’t know when she had decided to do it—she didn’t even know she had fully planned it until that moment—but suddenly she knew. She had to test a sample of her own blood. It’s not a huge matter, really, she thought, just another slide drive in the mix. But her feet seemed to drag as she made her way to the cabinet where she kept the sterilized biohazard equipment. I have to know. I just have to. This isn’t sinking in as real enough to you, Mara; you’re walking around in a daze, not treating this with as much a sense of urgency as you should. Once you see your DNA sequencing projection has a mutation, then it will be real. She grabbed a syringe out of the box of sharps and tore off its hygienic seal as she sat back down on the stool in front of her microscope. She found the vein and slid the needle in with a detached manner—needles had never bothered her, and if they ever had she was sure the fear would have ceased after a monthly injection since the age of four. The syringe filled slowly with her own Meditrinum blood sample; Mara waited until she had the same amount as the other vials, then smoothly pulled the needle out of the vein.

She deposited her sample into an empty vial, labeled it with an “M,” and tossed the used syringe in the biohazard waste can. Using a clean fine tipped needle, she drew some of her own blood and inserted it into an eleventh slide drive. She placed the slides into a special rack which she then inserted into a titration device. Five minutes of titration and the samples were ready to be processed into the DNA sequencing program. She brought the rack of slide drives over to the computer, opened the slide drive program and set up a report containing current blood data, current DNA sequencing, and projected DNA sequencing over a span of five years. Then she inserted the first slide drive containing one of the random samples from LabLink. The sample with her blood was purposely placed at the end of the queue. The computer could only process one report at a time, so it would take all day to collect all the results. She would have to be on hand to switch out the slide drives as the tests concluded; each test could take upwards of two hours, but Mara had never been one to be daunted by the prospect of a long lab stint. As the tests on the first slide drive began, Mara spun her chair over to the far left computer which was used for databases and research resources—she would spend her day combing the vast academic research files for all the available knowledge on genetic mutations and how to combat them, free of her phone, shut off from Runey and Travers and all other distractions.

Capacitance: Chapter 7

Here we are on another Monday–this summer is absolutely flying by! It is so hot in Kansas, so I plan to stay holed up in my office all day and hopefully get a chapter or so done on Resistance since I’m done editing Inductance. As I promised, here is Chapter 7; enjoy and stay cool friends! 🙂

Chapter 7

Mara quickened her pace from a brisk walk to a near-jog as she ascended the slope up from Design and onto the Campus Green. As if her day had not already been stressful enough, now she had a potential lab crisis on her hands. While everyone else was dispensing with the niceties back in Studio 76, Mara’s phone had begun to buzz and vibrate her pocket. One furtive glance at the screen while the incredibly verbose Runey from Design was going on about his artistic academia was enough to show Mara that her lab diagnostics she had been running had encountered a major error. One she simply couldn’t put off attending to—especially for making introductions to a group of people who would apparently be habitually wasting her time and energy every Tuesday for the rest of the school year. She also couldn’t believe the Professors and directors in charge of these group projects would actually want her to talk about her private work in front of a group of random students, as she knew the nature of it was quite sensitive.

She had crossed the green in record time and was already surging up the hill with long, tireless strides—the three-times a week mandatory gym sessions for all Science students were paying off at the moment. Blessedly, the sidewalks were empty of students or professors as everyone was still at their group meetings. For an instant Mara worried about getting in trouble for leaving her group early—rudely walking out on them is a better term, she thought—but then quickly realized she did not care. Shortly, she was at the top of the hill and heading into what students called “The Portal,” a building off to the side of the main science hall through which students accessed their individual labs. The foyer of The Portal was a maze of shining silver stairways and elegant glass elevators leading up and down, higher and lower to innumerable levels. There were no signs marking which stairs led where or which elevators went to what floor; it was confusing at first, but students spent so much time in their labs that finding them quickly became second nature. For Mara, it was quite easy; she went to the third elevator on the right behind the second stairwell. She swiped her access card and pressed in the key code without even looking at the controls. The elevator slid smoothly into the marble floor and shortly its glass doors slid open and Mara stepped out.

She was in a long white hallway with doors intermittently spaced down either side. She strode down to the second door and it felt like coming home. The door had no knob to open, but rather a small keypad plus a palm recognition sensor. Mara flicked in her key code in a fraction of a second and slid her palm smoothly down onto the sensor and the door whooshed open. She looked around, so relieved to be in her solitary space that she almost forgot about the emergency that she had come to investigate. Even though her test results were coming back haywire, everything in the lab was orderly as usual. Whereas Mara’s apartment was the picture of ultimate extravagance, her lab was quite the opposite—the floor was bare polished concrete, the furnishings were plain and utilitarian, no decorations or personal effects were to be seen anywhere. The only luxuries were the equipment and machines; a bank of computers which were probably better than any even found in the school of Technology perched on Mara’s desk, on the lab table high-precision testing instruments were lined up gleaming and ready for use, the walls were lined with larger machines, supplies and virtually any tool or device she could ever need to carry out her work.

Her work now carried her over to the bank of computers; she still couldn’t believe that the error message she had seen on her phone could be right. Biting her lip, she powered on the machines and entered the program she had been running; a few click of the mouse and tapping of the keys later and the same message as she had seen on her phone was illuminated across all three computer screens: “ERROR: GENETIC MUTATION STRAND.” Mara sighed, closed her eyes and rubbed her temples with both hands, trying to remind herself that she had expected this from the very beginning. As an ambitious student, Mara had always been interested in the field of genetic engineering; not only was it a complex science, but it was very important to the nation and the government. Since the field of genetic engineering had hit its stride of success, government officials had been using its applications to their benefit. The engineering of a person’s genes had long since ceased to be an activity that was solely carried out on human embryos to create “designer babies.” For the last half century, genetic engineering had become so advanced that it was now possible to correct and enhance the DNA of living human beings through genetic therapy. It was a costly treatment, but effective—people who received this genetic therapy experienced decelerated aging, overall perfect health, increased mental sharpness, and usually better looks.

The genetic therapy was administered through an injection of a serum called Meditrinum; recipients took their dose once a month and the serum went to work mending and smoothing out any flaws that may have arisen in their genetic makeup since the last dose. It was seen amongst all scientific circles as a miracle serum which extended and improved human life. Shortly after Meditrinum was perfected and considered fit for general human use, the government put restrictions on the substance. It was only to be available to those individuals at the highest levels of power and control in the government, a few privileged members of the elite, and to the most promising Science students. With the use of Meditrinum by the government, a new style of command over the nation began; the leaders simply stayed in power. They were not aging, were not getting sick, and were (with the help of the formula) some of the most capable people to lead that the nation possessed. Meditrinum was—literally—the lifeblood of the government.

It was because of Meditrinum’s importance to society as a whole, and a sense of skepticism which led Mara to delve deeply into the study of genetic engineering during understudy school. She knew coming into the University that she wanted to impress, to be top of the class; by presenting a project research plan which postulated an extensive examination of Meditrinum and the intent to make improvements to the injection, Mara was awarded the stellar entry position she desired. She was given the power and weight behind her project because she had taken a cynical gamble and also included the point in her research plan that she believed Meditrinum had an error which would need to be fixed—and she believed she could both find that error and fix it. She had taken a gamble by claiming Meditrinum was flawed; her postulation in that regard had been based purely on her geneticist’s hunch that human DNA is prone to mutations, and tampering with that fragile DNA must have repercussions somewhere. Today, she had finally found out that her grim thesis was correct.

Mara now found herself on the knife’s edge of triumph and cold, icy fear; yes, she had proven her point that Meditrinum was flawed, but what she still didn’t know was how deep that flaw would go, what effects the mutation would cause, and how she would fix it. She didn’t even know how much time she had to fix the problem. The previous Friday, she had left her lab and set the computer to do a DNA sequence scan on a blood sample that had been treated with Meditrinum; that DNA sequence had cleared through clean when she came back again to check it on Saturday. On Sunday night she had decided to try a new program which would forecast the DNA sequence into the future. Setting the computer up to test the sample again and this time project the DNA condition a full five years into the future, Mara had left her lab to let the tests run through since she had seminar on Monday. The alarming results from the DNA prospectus had come in as Mara sat in Studio 76 and she had rushed back to her lab, but now she found herself in a rare state of feeling overwhelmed and unsure where she should start to tackle the problem.

She had good reason for panic to set in—the problem was not just a problem for the government, it was also a problem for her. Students who showed the most promise in Science were made to leave their homes at a very young age, at their first sign of high intellect—these students were the ones who received Meditrinum treatments. Mara vividly remembered her first day away from home, standing in the long line with other kids in a medical lab as each one in turn was given their first injection of Meditrinum. Unlike the other kids, she wasn’t afraid of the needle poke—the memory remained with her because from that day forward she was curious about why she had to be injected, and once she was old enough to understand why, she was even more intrigued by the concept. However, now all those years and years of injections were weighing down on her chest like a lead weight. A mutation, she thought, and I am a carrier of it.

A wave of panic threatened to crash over her and she tamped it down. At times like this, she knew it was better to think rationally. Spinning her chair 180 degrees, away from the computer screen and its flashing red error message, she closed her eyes and began to think of the facts. The first fact was that she had set the scan to project a full five years into the future, so the mutation had to occur during that time frame. The second fact was she had no idea whatsoever of how bad the mutation really was. Third, she knew for a fact that she was capable of fixing this if anyone was. Snap out of this panic, Mara, she thought, you need to first find out when the mutation starts to develop. Then you need to ascertain how bad the genetic breakdown by mutation will be. Finally you FIX it—you fix that and you save the government, save the world from losing so many key people…save yourself.

Spinning back around to her computer with a new sense of focus, she cleared the error message and began what would be a long process of sorting through genetic code. Finding a mutation was like following a trail of breadcrumbs—little traces and hints could be found along the way. She knew she also needed to get more Meditrinum blood samples to run control tests and make sure all the readings came out the same and yielded the same mutation result. Pulling out her phone, she scrolled through to her task list and began to type. As she was framing out her next few days’ worth of work, she received a new message from Professor Travers, which read,

“Mara, sorry I have missed you. Meet in my office as soon as you get this. P.T.”

Mara felt her body sag with relief; of course she should talk to Travers about what she had discovered today, he would reassure her and make her feel better. As she thought this a small voice stole through her mind, Are you sure you should tell anyone about what you have found here today? It is a huge development with potential national security risk. Don’t tell Travers anything. Innately, she knew that the doubting voice was right, and she bemoaned having lost her one opportunity for solace. However, she knew she could ask him what he knew about genetic mutations and how to stop them—Travers did, after all, know she was looking for a flaw in Meditrinum. She flicked back to messages on her phone and quickly sent a reply to Travers,

“Finishing up a few things in lab, then on my way. M”

Mara exited out of the DNA sequencing program on her computers and opened up the application LabLink, an online delivery service where Science students could request supplies and have them delivered right to their labs. She clicked on “Specimen Samples” and filled out the form to request blood samples of Meditrinum. She hesitated over the number of samples to request, and then decided on a full 10 specimens, requesting that their donors be from an array of ages. Her request was submitted and would be delivered by the next morning. Mara let out a long exhale as she shut down the computers; she had intended to be labbed down all night, but now she felt distinctly relieved to be powering down her lab when it was only late afternoon. The weight of today’s discovery was bearing down on her too hard, and Mara realized she had reached a threshold she seldom encountered—the point where it was all too much for her right now and she needed to back away and return to the problem later. Thus, it was with great relief that she flicked off the light switches to her lab, keyed in the code to securely lock the doors and turned her back on the whole area for the night.

Riding back up in the elevator Mara stood as if in a daze, her brain at war with itself—wanting to analyze and turn the problem over and over, the other half knowing it needed to put the issue away for now. The elevator rose up through the floor and its glass walls were flooded with golden light as it reached the lobby where the orange, fuzzy rays of the setting sun had gilded all the smooth marble, glass and metal surfaces turning The Portal into an opulent golden palace. The lift did not stop at the lobby, but propelled Mara further upward until it deposited her in another white marbled lobby, the glass railings at its edges showing a vertiginous maze of stair cases and elevator shafts leading many floors down to the main entrance of The Portal itself. Mara exited the elevator, turned left and immediately began to ascend yet another flight of stairs which led exclusively to Professor Travers’ suite of labs. At the top of the stairs, the décor changed abruptly; cool metal and glass finishings gave way to warm wood paneled walls, thick wine colored carpets, and richly carved dark wood doors. There were three sets of these doors on the large stair landing: one a double height pair of grandly carved doors led to Travers’ living area, the plainest door led to his labs, and a curious almost too-short door with a Gothic arched top and rosette carvings led to Travers’ office.

It was the arched office door to which Mara administered three quick raps to let Travers know she was here. She knew he would be in there waiting for her; he always conducted their chats in the coziness of his office, “Get away from the business side for once, my dear,” he always said. Today was no exception, shortly after her knock, Travers opened the curious door wide for her with a warm smile that crinkled the corners of his dark eyes. He wasn’t wearing his usual tweed jacket (Mara saw it hung close at hand over the back of his desk chair) because the room was very cozy and warm due to the lit fireplace which had the same curious Gothic arched shape as the door. “Mara, come, sit by the fire please! You must know how terribly sorry I am that I have not been able to meet with you before now. It’s been this business with the inter-college initiative project which has kept me very busy,” he said, checking his old fashioned wristwatch, then looking at Mara interestedly, “You mentioned you were in your lab and had to finish up some things, but technically your group meeting wasn’t supposed to end all that long ago.” He raised his eyebrows questioningly at her.

“Professor Travers, I—” Mara began exasperatedly, not in the mood to have to defend herself.

But Travers broke into a warm smile, “Our little secret,” he said, placing a finger briefly to his lips, “Besides, who can blame you for not wanting to spend a whole afternoon engaged in small talk when you’ve got rather more important things to do, right?” He gestured toward the two overstuffed chairs in a plaid forest green print which were huddled close to the fireplace, and Mara gratefully collapsed into one, letting her briefcase fall to the floor. “I would offer you a drink,” Travers continued, “But I know you don’t usually indulge. Which is a shame, because I have an absolutely excellent merlot that would be a delight to share with you.”

“Yes. I’ll have some wine, please. That would be great,” Mara said from the depths of her chair, knowing that this was truly one of the few days where a drink would ease the wars in her head and allow her some peace from herself and the problem in her lab. Travers looked up with surprise, and walked over to the sideboard where he poured deep ruby wine from a cut glass decanter into two light as air blown glass vessels. Mara gingerly accepted and took a deep draught of the wine, its fine tannic swirl of flavor creating a rich glow within her even upon the first drink. Travers settled with his glass in the adjacent chair and turned attentively to face her.

“So, Mara, what is going on with your project? What is new for Meditrinum? I couldn’t help but notice right before you came up here, an especially large sample of Meditrinum blood specimens was ordered to your lab,” Travers ventured inquisitively.

“Ten is an especially large number?” Mara asked bluntly. “I am just running some extensive DNA sequencing prospectuses on Meditrinum samples, and looking to see if I run into any mutations,” she summarized, feeling better that she didn’t outright tell Travers a lie—up until this afternoon that was truly what she was working on, she just omitted the detail that a mutation had indeed been found. As her brain cycled back to the word mutation all the anxiety started to rise again and voices of panic started to shout in her mind—Where?! When?! How bad is it?!—Mara shut them up with another drink of wine.

“Ah, mutations, the bane of genetic structure! But the point is Mara–and it is a point I have been trying to make with you ever since you entered the University–what makes you so sure there will be a mutation within Meditrinum specimens? After all, the therapy was created to smooth out and repair flaws in the DNA structure, so wouldn’t the simple act of taking it rule out the very mutations you’re afraid are going to become prevalent?” Travers leaned back with a smile and took another sip of his wine; this was the classic argument between the two which they routinely waged against one another in the most pacific, scholarly manner.

“As I have said before, it is never a bad idea to be too careful in the precautions one takes against a drug that is used habitually by all the most important government figures who run this country, not to mention countless students and professors of science,” here she slightly narrowed her eyes at him; she was trying to lure him into telling her whether or not he took Meditrinum. She had not been able to get him to divulge that particular information throughout the duration of his mentorship to her.

Once again, he did not take the bait, “Mara, we could argue this back and forth for days—and believe me, I would enjoy the argument! There really is nothing like debate between two qualified individuals! But, my dear, I just hate to see your talents not put to good constructive use; you could be finessing Meditrinum, adding new features, new benefits—I know you have the talent and skill to do so. A project such as that would win you fame, power, and—good Lord!—money. More money than you could imagine! Your name would be in all the scientific journals; you would be at the forefront of genetic engineering, a figurehead so to speak,” Travers said passionately.

“I know, I know all that,” Mara responded wearily; Travers knew this was the best means of persuasion to use on her. He knew that she craved respect and success for her work. It used to be very difficult to resist this argument, to prevent herself from giving in and heading down to her lab to create a new genetic therapy that would give Meditrinum users even longer lives, universal good looks, even advanced sexual prowess, or some other seemingly trivial but in reality very powerful advantage. For her, this represented not only the easy way out, but also the path that would lead her to less success. A scientist improving Meditrinum was not nearly as important as a scientist who saved Meditrinum. Mara continued to Travers with a mischievous smile, “I didn’t come here to rehash all our old arguments. I came here because I want to know what you know about genetic mutations. Say my DNA sequencing does turn up on a mutation—then what?”

“Well, Mara, it would depend on what kind of mutation it is. We obviously have prepared remedies to all of the basic genetic mutations—different kinds of cancer, for instance, used to be a deadly mutation in the past, but now we have the various formulas which stop the cancer and mend it immediately. Which leads back to my former point; Meditrinum automatically fixes these kinds of flaws every month when a user takes it. If there are any mutations or free radicals that cause cancer in a person’s system, Meditrinum wipes these away upon its administration. I assume you have already thought of this, so I further assume you must be looking for a bigger form of mutation. I suppose it could be possible for cells to mutate on so many levels that the Meditrinum would be unable to catch up with the repairs, but we are talking about massive DNA breakdown. Literally, massive! It would have to be enough break down that the Meditrinum couldn’t fix it all in one month. This kind of mutation would see the users of Meditrinum waste away slowly while the battle between the mutated cells and Meditrinum waged on inside them; some might live if they had enough strength to stay alive long enough for the Meditrinum to catch up with repairs, but most would die.

That is one possibility, I suppose. The other situation is compounded; cells are already mutating on the massive level I mentioned before, but in this type of mutation, Meditrinum turns on the body—a hostile takeover mutation. In this scenario, the Meditrinum itself is corrupted upon entry to the body by these mutated cells, thus spreading the mutation everywhere much more quickly than it would have done on its normal course. In this kind of hostile takeover mutation, we are talking death within days or maybe a week of the Meditrinum injection. A bleak prospect, to be sure, but let’s not forget this genetic therapy has been around and in constant use by many people for well over fifty years. If a mutation was going to happen, odds are it would have already occurred,” he finished, and self-satisfied with his explanation he turned towards the fire and propped his loafered feet up on a claw footed leather ottoman.

Mara sat in silence, processing. The dancing light from the fireplace cast a thick glow over the wood paneled walls and gilded spines of books in the floor to ceiling bookshelves. Through the window—strangely arched and comprised of many diamond shaped panes which always gave Mara pause as from the exterior of the building it would be quite anachronistic, architecturally—the sun was finally on its last descent, causing a ruby-purple glow to enter the office. Mara was glad for the dim lighting as she could feel her face going white in the span of Travers’ bleak synopsis of the worst kinds of mutations. She knew it would be a dead giveaway if he saw fear on her face so she took a large swallow of wine, hoping to bring back some of her color as Travers got up to turn on some lamps.

“Thanks for the insight, Professor Travers—now hopefully it will be of no use to me!” she laughed, trying to lighten the mood away from the subject.

Travers looked at her seriously for a moment, “If anyone could find a fix to those mutations I just spoke about, Mara, it’s you,” he gazed at her tersely with his brown eyes for a beat, then broke into a smile, “Now how about another glass of wine and we can move on to less serious topics,” he accepted her empty glass, which was proffered more readily than he expected, and topped it with more wine. “Tell me about your group!” He said, sitting back down in the other chair by the fireplace.

Mara sighed audibly and Travers laughed. “Well I didn’t really get to meet them much since, as you most astutely guessed, I left the meeting early. I wanted to get back to my lab, and, yes, I did see it as a waste of my time. As for my brief impression of the group, well, I really liked Vance. He is the one from Politics, so I suppose getting people to like him is what he is good at. He definitely put everyone at ease. Elba, the girl from Technology, is unremarkable; pretty shy, but seemed to hint that she knows about computer hacking. But don’t they all know a lot about that over in Tech? And then from Design, there was Runey. He was late, and arrogant. He is handsome and he knows it. I am going to have the most trouble working with him. He just…irritates me for some reason,” Mara shook her head as his easy half-smile came back into her mind. She took another drink of wine.

Travers looked amused at her descriptions. He had expected no less than dismissive. “Mara, you should see this as an opportunity! When you leave the University, you will be working with other types of people, like it or not. You’re going to be very important, and important people have to know how to mix. You already like this Vance from Politics, and it sounds like the girl Elba could be interesting—just because she is shy doesn’t mean she has nothing interesting to say! And as for this character Runey, he is your biggest challenge, Mara. I encourage you to make an effort to get to know him. Since he is the one you least like in the group, making an effort towards him will be good for your character. Many students of Science don’t learn this until after University, but success is not just won in the lab, it is carried out amongst other people. Challenge yourself, learn about Runey. That is my personal advice to you, for whatever it’s worth,” he smiled as he saw Mara’s face lose some of its obstinate hardness; he had seen the look before and knew it as a sign she had taken his words to heart.

As the sky lost its wash of grey and violet and filtered totally into inky black outside the diamond-paned window, Mara and Travers continued to sit and talk well after the moon had set and the stars had spread out to blanket the night. When at last Mara stood up from her chair and shouldered her briefcase, she was feeling much more light-hearted than she had when she arrived. The wine had dulled the sense of urgency to investigate the mutation, and the Travers’ paternal presence and friendship had soothed her greatly. She had not drank too much wine that she had forgotten the specifics on mutations Travers had explained to her, but she was tipsy enough that she floated out of the room ambivalent to Travers’ last hard, quizzical look at her as she exited, indicating that what he had seen and heard from her that night was troubling.

Current Progress: #amwriting #amediting

Things have been going as per usual in my writerly life this week–a little progress, a little frustration. Editing Inductance has been my main focus. As I noted last week, the first ten chapters were a little rough around the edges, but now that I am in the thick of things, it is all sounding very good. Shockingly, I do better with a lot of action and tight suspenseful scenes, even though these are the hardest for me to write! Ironically, I enjoy the characters’ relationships with each other and especially the romance aspect of the story, but these sectors are where I see the most need for editing. I suppose this problem arises from the simple fact that–in all actuality–human emotions and relationships are more complex than an action-y, main characters being chased and escaping from danger type of scene. Thus, as opposed to the tight, driving action of the prose, when I am writing emotional scenes or internal dilemma, those sentences tend to get longer and more complex, and need more editorial attention.

On the whole, however, editing has been a very painless process. In fact, it has bolstered my self-confidence! As I am editing along and find myself not wanting to stop because I want to stay immersed in the story, I feel a great sense of pride–I even have myself (the author) hooked on the story! Pride and a sense of accomplishment are great sensations to feel in the author’s cruel world of agent denials and constant self-doubt. The only thing about Inductance which gives me trepidation is the word count–78,000 words is a little slim, compared to Capacitance which stood at 89,000 words. I feel great about the way the story arcs and finds its own sort of resolution and set up for the next novel, but the word count still makes me a little nervous. Perhaps I need to explore the idea of inserting another storyline somewhere in the novel. I have some ideas–for instance one my secondary characters from the first book has not shown her face in the second book. Characters have talked about her, but she is not present. I can’t decide if that’s something I should take up and insert to create a higher word count. However, I had in the back of my mind thought about bringing her back in a certain way in the third book which I think would be very effective. Hopefully, once I get through the initial edit and have the full sense of a straight read through the story I might have a better idea of what to insert.

The final note of progress (which is also a note of frustration) which I have to report this week is that I officially started Resistance! While I had composed the first sentence already, this week I went ahead, swallowed my procrastination and wrote the first chapter. And I absolutely love the way it came out! Now I need to continue this sense of trust in myself and go on to the next chapter. Procrastination still rules as yet, however. For my series, it is more like having to write two first chapters since I have two main characters; each of their individual situations must be initially presented to the reader and that makes things a little more challenging. A jumping off point for the entire novel is always a very delicate and difficult thing to construct. I finally have a free weekend ahead of me though, so I intend to make use of it in true writer’s fashion and get some more words on that page! I hope everyone has a very lovely weekend and I will post Chapter 7 of Capacitance on Monday! 🙂

World Building: A Daunting Task

As I move into my third manuscript (more thoughts on progress tomorrow), world building is on my mind. My characters have moved out of their initial setting, into the world beyond–thus, by default the world is getting bigger and more complex. When I started out writing Capacitance, I, of course, knew much more about the world my characters live in than the reader did (or even than some of the characters themselves knew!). Some people who read my story found this frustrating. I may have spoken about this in a post before, but it is worth mentioning here again; the reactions some readers have to the slow introduction to the world of Mara and Runey. They want to know it all from the beginning–the why, the how, the who… However, inundation is simply overwhelming to the reader. My answer to those readers who wanted answers and specifics and even an entire history of how the world came about is, “Be patient.”

My series is not a hard science fiction or a high fantasy. It is soft science fiction, speculative and a little dystopian. Thus, there are differences between the world of my characters and the world we live in today, but there are also many similarities. This makes it tempting for readers to want to ask how did we get there from here (being the present day). I love the fact that my work and the world the characters live in may bring up these kinds of deep questions. Any SF or Fantasy book whose fictional worlds can cause a reader to question or think deeply about the world they actually live in is, in my opinion, doing a fantastic service to the world of literature. However, how much of the reader’s questions we as authors will answer is a tricky line to tread. How much do we reveal without inundating readers while still satisfying their curiosity?

The answer, for me, lies in a micro to macro approach to the characters and their world. Capacitance starts on the micro level; readers meet the main characters on their campus and don’t know much else at first. As the story progresses, readers learn factors about the larger scheme of things bit by bit. I wanted Capacitance to be mainly about getting to know and connecting to the characters. It isn’t until the end of the novel that the reader really begins to see the true scope of the world. The word ‘capacitance’ means the potential for energy, and the first novel is all about building the spring board that is character development.

Inductance springs the characters off into the world. The second installment was much more about world building. ‘Inductance’ means the flow of energy, and in book 2 the characters are moving out into the world and becoming involved in more action. It was a real struggle for me to make this shift into less character developing and more wold developing. Some of the best world building I did was off the page. Sitting down and taking notes about your world can be a very helpful exercise. Many of these thoughts will never reach the MS page–in fact, many of them shouldn’t–this exercise is more about becoming familiar with your world. That way when you write about it, you have command of your subject. You know things about your world that no one else does. You have secrets, and you’ll keep many of them. The point is to not be didactic in your story. Let the characters make discoveries, let details come out naturally, let nothing be forced.

I am now on the third MS in the series and I am sure that all the questions the more impatient readers had in the first book have still not been answered–maybe they never will be! However, world building remains on my mind as each book goes a little bit deeper into it all. Getting deeper into my world means more serious character development, more new places to be described, more serious themes to face. I’ll leave off on that note as it provides a great segue into what I will be posting about tomorrow. 🙂 Happy Thursday!

The Children Act by Ian McEwan

It’s Wednesday again, and time to highlight another title that I have found inspiration from. This book was one I read quite recently (last month), and it was phenomenal. I was browsing around the airport during a long delay and picked this slender volume up on the off chance I finished the fat tome from the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon (a topic for another blog post!) which I was carrying around. While I didn’t read the book at the airport, I did read it–nearly all in one sitting–curled up under a blanket in my living room with a glass of wine. This is a book I can recommend reading in just such a situation under the unique musings solidarity and a good glass of sauvignon blanc can produce.

Of course, I knew this book would be phenomenal–it’s Ian McEwan, author of the magnificently beautiful Atonement and acclaimed literary author. Naturally, it would take an author with critical acclaim to get the approval of publishers to create such a tiny book! However, the brevity of the work is one of its great strengths, in my opinion. Since the reader does not know the entire story of the main characters, they are left to fill in the pieces on their own, thus prompting personal introspection. In this way The Children Act took on something of the short story–it was short and perfect and left readers wanting more.

The language was very literary and beautiful, which was something I enjoyed after reading mainly commercial fiction this year. As the main character, Fiona, enjoyed a glass of scotch each night, so the book went down, short and neat and leaving a glowing feeling in the heart of the reader at enjoying such gorgeous words. However, what I enjoyed more than the words were the questions and thought the book provoked.

The story centers around a woman’s professional and personal life–the professional life is one of renown, but her personal life is falling apart. Her husband wants to leave her and this brings up questions of aging, of priorities, about marriage. All of these questions hit home for me very poignantly as I have always questioned today’s cultural trend of putting career before family and the sad trend of marital unhappiness in general. The professional storyline brings up questions of ethics and maturity as Fiona deals with having to make the decisions for a child in her legal capacity. Religion even comes into the fray. It is incredible how, in so few pages, McEwan can provoke so many emotions and thoughts in his readers.

Essentially, this book inspired me because even though it was a purely literary work, it was still a page turner. I could not put it down. As writers–literary, commercial, etc–the common goal is for our work to be compelling. We want readers to keep turning the pages. If you can manage to do that, and incorporate beautiful language and present a spectrum of thought provoking topics–bravo, you truly are a master. McEwan does all this in The Children Act thus, I take inspiration from him as an author and this book as a work of art.

Balancing Act: Writing With Two Main Characters

I always knew Capacitance would center around two main characters–from the very first image of inspiration, I knew that the story would involve a romance, and I also knew that I wanted to explore both aspects of that love story, namely both the male and female perspective. By default, the more characters introduced into a story, the more complex it gets, especially if point of view jumps between more than one main character. I have spoke of J.K. Rowling’s masterful handling of this multi-main character challenge in The Casual Vacancy. My story is not as challenging as that since it only concerns two main characters, however, the balance is important to keep readers invested in each of the characters in their own right. 

While writing Capacitance, I more or less stuck to a basic formula of alternating chapters; I would have a Mara chapter then a Runey chapter. These chapters would compliment each other because they would build on the action, but not rehash it. If the narrator never follwed Runey’s tale, the reader would be confused as to Runey’s motives for pursuing Mara, and the love story would not be as fleshed out. By allowing readers to see both sides of the story, they are given more insight and validation for what is happening between Mara and Runey. 

The male protagonist is something that is not always commonly seen in novels. By and large, the majority of today’s readers are women, thus selling to that market is most profitable in the way of book sale numbers. Even in many of today’s bestsellers, the male co-leads are somewhat shallow; you know they are the love interest, and the female lead is beyond dedicated to them, but the story doesn’t really flesh out their characteristics or qualities which make them so compelling. I wanted to create a complicated male co-lead for this series; one that the readers would come to know as innately as Mara. Thus the chapters from Runey’s world show insight into his emotions and way of thought. Writing from the male point of view is a challenge, but I really enjoyed writing Runey’s segment of the story. He has flaws and he makes big mistakes, but ultimately, he becomes a better man for it. 

While writing, I sometimes found myself enjoying Runey’s segments even more than I enjoyed writing Mara. In Chapter 4 we see the first really emotional, inward action on a character’s part, and that is Runey laying in bed with the realization of his loss of Juleia trickling back to him. I related to this scene so deeply and with Runey himself that at first he seemed to almost be taking over as the main character. However, as the story progresses, as you will hopefully someday see, the two really come to balance out and the storylines become equally as compelling, even though I stress out a lot over one not being as exciting as the other. As is so often the answer, the characters will work and speak for themselves and make the story flow as it should. 

One final thing worth mentioning about maintaining this balancing act between two main characters is the use of third person point of view. Since the reader is not being forced to bounce back between two narrative voices, the book has more flow and continuity. The third person narrator bridges the gap between Mara’s chapters and Runey’s chapters creating a cohesion which guides the readers along in a much less disjointed manner. This also makes things less confusing in segments where the two are physically together when a first person voice narrator could get a little tricky. 

Today may be the day I start the final book of the trilogy, so hopefully I can keep my character balance going strong through the final act! I will be posting more on my current writing progress and the in-between books process tomorrow, so stay tuned! 🙂

Capacitance: Chapter 4 & 5

I apologize for the lack of posts this week! My desktop Internet is back up and running now, so things can get back to normal. To make up for the delay on Capacitance chapters this week AND to celebrate my finally finishing Inductance I am posting both Chapter 4 and Chapter 5! Enjoy!!

Chapter 4

The morning of the meeting of all the students on the Campus Green, consciousness gradually trickled through the cells of Runey’s brain, and with this he became increasingly aware of a sense of something missing. Slowly, then all at once, the loss of Juleia bore down on him; the immediacy he missed her with was a physical pain as he remembered how most mornings she was there with him, wedged into his narrow dorm bed, encircled by his arms. This morning there was an uncomfortable space in his bed which his limbs were not used to stretching out into. After a few drinks with the Professor last night, his evening had been therapeutically fogged, but this morning he missed Juleia—and he had a headache. At the exact moment of the latter discovery, the sun pierced through the window which was divided into several randomly placed rectangular panes of colored and clear glass, sending rainbows of painful light into Runey’s deep blue—and right now rather bloodshot—eyes. Sighing, he dragged himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and once again became lost in thoughts of Juleia.

They had met during understudy school. Both were talented artists and were thus preparing for their eventual entry into the University College of Design. He had first encountered her at a party one Friday night and was intrigued by her witty, sarcastic humor and his ability to see through the hard exterior she presented when he looked into her soft brown eyes. Drunk and uninhibited, the pair had ended up in bed together that night. The next morning, Runey was already preparing several excuses and ways to avoid future encounters with her, but then she rolled toward him, the sunlight playing on her messy chocolate hair and tiny gold lip ring, and somehow she was suddenly a visceral part of his life from that moment on. Runey meshed with Juleia effortlessly; his innate sense of perceiving moods and feelings in other people was the perfect implementation for the deep moods of Juleia. She was prone to jealousy, sadness and irritability, but Runey knew how to navigate those deep waters and just how to temper her worst spells and tease out the elements he loved—her immense capacity to love, her devoted loyalty, and her wild imagination.

However, as a perceiver of people, Runey was also quite aware that he was less invested in Juleia than she was in him; he could truly see that she would find it hard to live a fulfilled life without him, as he provided a weight to her lofty dreamer’s character. Runey subconsciously knew, and was finding out in that present moment, that life without Juleia would leave a part of him injured, but would not render all of him broken. This realization had always set him a bit on edge about the relationship as a whole, but it was a train of thought that he stowed away in his ever-processing mind. There were too many exciting things happening being a student at the University, and he loved sharing them with Juleia—it was easy and comfortable to banter back and forth about new project ideas, what professors they liked and which they didn’t, anything and everything else. They always laughed together and dreamed together, and that was what he loved about her, so he locked away the chiding voice of criticism in his mind and took no notice of it day by day.

He wished the voice was there now; a sprig of doubt in his mind could blossom into a full state of acceptance of his new situation—helping him prepare mentally for this assignment he had been given. Runey knew why the Professor and other in the Restorationists had chosen him for this task. It was for the very reasons that he had such a successful relationship with Juleia; Runey was very perceptive of people—he always had been. He barely had to be in a room with a person for a minute before he could tell more about them than they ever would have guessed. Body language and an inexplicable intuitiveness could tell him if a person was stressed or sad, happy or distracted; it was a very useful tool in building relationships, but it could also be used for manipulation. Runey could not see this falling in love business as anything but a manipulation, but that didn’t soften his resolve that he could accomplish it. His determination in the face of a challenge was the second factor that had landed him the assignment. Fiercely competitive and extremely motivated, Runey was more likely to put his full effort behind something that was labeled “a challenge.” This was why he was so successful with Juleia—she was a complicated puzzle of a person, and Runey enjoyed finding out how the myriad pieces fit together.

Finally, there was the fact that he was very personable. He had been courted extensively by the College of Politics as he had a way of getting people to like him (mostly due to his great ability to read people). However, he had eschewed that idea firmly to stick with his passion for art—and to stick with Juleia. Yes, Runey thought as he finally got off the bed and made his way into his bathroom, it is pretty obvious why they chose me…people skills, dedication, determination. He understood the why, but he still did not like the implementation which required the severance of his tie with Juleia; frustrated and wanting to clear his mind, he stuck his head under the faucet of cold running water. Coming up for air, he grabbed a towel and examined in the mirror one last reason he had most likely been chosen; a strong, chiseled jaw line gave a masculine authority to his fine featured, handsome face—Juleia had often likened it to the faces seen on ancient statuary, such as Michelangelo’s David, a comparison which Runey felt was quite excessive. However, surmounted by a messy crop of auburn hair and deep, brooding blue eyes, Runey’s face was admittedly one that would make many girls fall in love with him on its own merits. Runey was sure Mara from Science would not be so easily swayed, but nonetheless he was certain the Professor and others had taken his looks into consideration when choosing their man for the assignment.

For the first time that morning, he thought not about Juleia but about Mara from Science—the girl he was supposed to fall in love with. It sounded absurd in Runey’s mind, like some sort of twisted fairytale, or archaic arranged marriage. However, he could definitely see the benefit; day after day he walked through campus and looked up on the tall hill at the imposing Science building and wondered just what it was that they were all doing up there. The other members of the Restorationists maintained a fairly good idea of what went on, but they could never be entirely sure. Whatever this Mara from Science was working on, it must be something with a potentially sinister bent, or the assignment would not be such a high priority. It was a challenge, and Runey felt the tentacles of curiosity weave through his mind and latch on to the cause—he wanted to find out, he would make it his life to find out since he didn’t have Juleia to ride comfortably through the motions with anymore.

The thoughts continued to ebb and flow through his mind as he walked out of the Design compound, its arched entry tunnel of the same rectangular colored glass as his dorm room windows swirling above him like a flurry of butterflies. He was the only one walking out; he had intentionally left late so that he would run no chance of meeting Juleia. He had sent a message to some of their mutual girl friends late last night telling them they needed to make sure she got to the meeting on time this morning—he knew Juleia well enough to know that the events of last night were enough to send her spiraling into a period of despondency that could see her not leave her room for days, regardless of her other obligations. Thus, he strolled out of Design and over the path towards Campus Green a mere five minutes before the meeting was scheduled to begin, the curiosity and thrill of the challenge thrumming through his efficient brain and beginning to drown out the low resonant ache of losing Juleia. He once again considered Mara from Science, but found all the as-yet unknowns too overwhelming for him to process. At least he knew one thing, and he was grateful for it—when they gave him this assignment to fall in love with a stranger, at least the stranger was remarkably good looking. Chuckling and smiling his rueful crooked smile to himself, Runey slid on his sunglasses and continued on to the Campus Green, and his next love, Mara from Science.


 

Chapter 5

Campus Green was a sprawl of human movement as all the students from all the different colleges milled about and crammed into the common quadrangle. Although unintentional, the colleges had inadvertently separated themselves into their four respective groups as friends and classmates mingled amongst one another, making small talk under the ease of familiarity. So far, the assimilation of all the groups was not coming naturally. None of it was coming naturally for Mara as she stood under the dappled shade of an enormous oak, out of the way of the early fall sun which was gradually becoming too hot. It was ten past nine (she kept sliding her slim silver phone in and out of her pocket, compulsively checking the time), and as the remainder of the students packed onto the green, the noise level spiked with jocularity. In the center of the crush was a platform; the crowd suddenly parted way and a group of professors took this makeshift stage and stood above the large group. Mara saw Beliz and four other professors she did not know, and assumed they were from other colleges. She was delighted to see her favorite professor, Professor Travers, on the stage as well; a gentleman of indistinguishable age, his face was only slightly lined in a way that did not mar but rather enhanced its strong features—best of all were his warm brown eyes which would light up with interest and pride whenever Mara spoke of new ideas with him. They had spent many long hours together in her lab or in his faculty suite of lab and office; Mara allowed him a rare sentiment that was more than that of a professional colleague—she thought of him as the father she had never truly known.

Many students in the College of Science, unlike the rest of the students and population in general, were selected at a young age upon showing exceptional promise in the field of Science and then removed to live amongst one another and assume a life entirely devoted to training—Mara was one of these students. Now, seeing Travers on the stage, Mara had a brief flash of a vague and fuzzy memory, frayed around the edges, flit through her mind. She remembered the warm cinnamon smell of cookies baking, and a strong voice reading to her from a story book. The memory was gone as soon as it came, and left Mara with no feeling; she had long since accepted that she had once had a family, but they were no longer important. Her work was all she needed; any sentimentality she attributed to Travers was a topic she considered superfluous and vaguely embarrassing. However, it was still nice to see him up on the stage today. He would understand her annoyance at this interruption to work—especially once she told him the newest and most pressing of her discoveries. For the past week, she had been trying to arrange a private meeting with him, but he had been busy and rather obscure as to what was occupying his time. As recently as last night she had tried to set up a meeting and her message had been bluntly ignored. She felt slightly mollified seeing him on stage now—he must have been too busy to reply due to business with this meeting today.

One of the professors began to speak—a woman Mara did not know. She was very tall with a figure that could best be described as sharp. Her black hair was cut short and this added to the overall severe impression she made as she began in a loud voice with a razor’s edge, “Hello everyone, thank you for being here today. For those of you who don’t know me, I am Miranda Hall—head of the University Board of Directors. Today is a milestone in the history of the University, and I, as well as the rest of the faculty, board and surely you students, am very excited to see what this collaboration will bring. I will keep this short as it will take quite some time to gather into your new groups. In a few minutes, you will be receiving a message on your phones with the names of the other three members of your group as well as a location somewhere on campus. Once you receive the message, go to the location you have been sent. This is where you will meet your fellow group members. More information about the project will be messaged to you once everyone has dispersed.” With a brisk nod, Miranda Hall turned and gave the floor over to a professor from Design who began to speak of his excitement for the collaboration and to give an overview of the aims and philosophy of the College of Design.

Mara could see that the remainder of the speakers’ words on stage were going to be wasted on their intended recipients, as students all around whipped out their phones almost in unison and were trained to the messages application in high anticipation of finding out their new assignment. Mara got out her phone as well and covertly accessed some of her research files and did some remote checks of some lab tests she was running back in the Science compound. Time passed quickly as she scrolled through her personal files; out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Beliz gesticulating colorfully on the stage and speaking fervently about her passion for the new project. Mara chuckled to herself as she noticed some of the students from other colleges had been distracted from their phones by the shocking neon orange pantsuit Beliz had chosen to wear for the occasion. Soon, she noticed around her students were starting to slowly thin off the green. Then Mara’s messages made an almost inaudible ping and buzz. She flipped through to messages, and touched to open the new arrival which read:

Group 407: Vance, 674309, Politics

Elba, 554981, Technology

Runey, 912768, Design

Report to Studio 76, Design Block A

The location assignment was linked in the message, so when Mara tapped the words on the display, a map of the University appeared complete with a glowing green marker denoting her current location. The way to Studio 76, Design Block A was highlighted on the map. Mara began to follow the route assigned, realizing this would be the first time she had ever ventured to the Design compound. She wondered if other groups got to meet in Science, and suffered an absurd qualm that someone might be assigned to her lab. You’re the only one who knows the lock code, Mara, don’t be ridiculous…she thought, flicking the errant thought out of her mind. The highlighted route on her phone screen led her diagonally across the Campus Green towards the Design compound. Whereas the Science building was up on a high precipice, the Design compound was recessed, and the area was entered by walking through a sloping half tunnel with rainbow blocks of glass on one side that seemed to be suspended in mid-air instead of continuing down to the other side of the walkway. At the bottom of the hill was a large glittering lake, surrounded by a lush green on which Mara could see several student groups of four were already gathered, meeting for the first time.

Design Block A, as the name would suggest, turned out to be the first of four multi-level buildings which were flowing constructions of pale red brick and more of the multi-colored glass like in the entrance tunnel. Mara approached Block A and pushed open the heavy glass door, checking her phone as she entered; as expected the screen on the phone automatically zoomed in and switched from a map of the entire campus to a detailed map of just Design Block A, and the highlighted route now traversed through hallways and floors, showing Mara where to go. As far as Mara could tell, the room numbering system in the building made no logical sense as room 76 appeared to be in the basement of the building; instead of leading her up the inviting spiral staircase of thick sheets of colored glass suspended in the foyer, the route suggested she needed to go down the hall and then descend a flight of much less fanciful stairs with utilitarian well-used rubber treads and a metal handrail which felt disturbingly sticky to the touch.

Wiping her hand disgustedly on the new blue silk of her tunic, Mara felt a fresh wave of annoyance as she arrived in front of Room 76; pushing open the door, she entered a very cluttered, very dirty space. Well worn hardwood and a distinct layer of dust covered the floor; shelves along the wall were absolutely crammed with papers, pencils and various other drawing supplies; easels stood at arbitrary positions throughout the room, sheathed in paint-stained sheets; light wooden chairs and tables were arranged at haphazard angles to one another. Despite all this clutter of stuff, the room was devoid of the key elements Mara expected to find in it—namely Vance from Politics, Elba from Tech, and Runey from Design. She tapped back through the messages on her phone to double check her location, and rolled her eyes when she saw that she was indeed in the right place, yet she was expected to work with idiots who couldn’t even get to a meeting expeditiously and on time.

Bestowed with the professional habit of being habitually early, Mara selected a moderately clean rag from the wide assortment splayed on the floor and tables, and gingerly brushed off one of the wooden chairs. Sitting down, she deposited her leather briefcase on the dirty floor—cringing internally—and once again pulled up her lab files on her phone to pass the time waiting for her already most unimpressive group partners. She did not have to wait overly long; five minutes of work on her phone had not elapsed before the creaky, dark wood door opened slowly and ushered a very small girl into the room. Standing at a height that would rival the brevity of even Professor Beliz’s form, Elba from Technology entered the room timidly. Her pale skin and eyes made her seem smaller than she already was; her hair hung down nearly to her hips in a long, neat, white-blond braid and the worn gray satchel she carried over her shoulder was nearly as large as she was. “Hi,” she ventured timidly, in a voice that was just as small and pure as her physical appearance, “You must be Mara. I’m Elba, first year Technology.” Jostling the immense bag to her other shoulder, she held out her hand and Mara slipped her phone away to a pocket and returned the gesture of greeting with a guarded smile.

“Nice to meet you, Elba. Do you have any idea how long this is supposed to take today?” Mara asked, not caring if her question came off as rude—she had seen something in her mobile lab results that warranted immediate looking into; labbing down late into the night looked like all-too-likely possibility.

With effort, Elba heaved her gray satchel onto one of the long wooden tables where it landed with a heavy thud. Mara supposed it was full of computer equipment, and began to muse briefly on how lucky it was that Technology students could carry their computers—essentially the equivalent of her lab—around with them everywhere. Her straying thoughts were interrupted by Elba’s answering her question, “Well, there was a command on the server last night prompting pre-generated emails to be sent out to all students at two different times. I’m assuming the first email was the one with directions to here, and the second is scheduled to arrive in…” she trailed off as she checked the time on her phone, “Five minutes. I don’t have a clue what the second message is about; my friends and I couldn’t get that far into the system…although we tried,” she said, raising her light eyebrows conspiratorially at the last, and then developing a rosy blush on her pale face when Mara simply eyed her dismissively, not eager to take part in the gossip of the computer hacking world.

“Well hopefully our partners make it here soon, then, so we can make quick progress once we get the next message,” Mara clipped, glancing again at the door. Elba only nodded back, still blushing from Mara’s none-too-warm reception.

At that moment, the door burst open and the increasingly awkward silence was filled with a loud, rich voice, “Hello, hello! I am so sorry for being late; I should have been here much sooner, but I got caught up talking to so many people on the way over,” his straight white teeth glowed against his dark warm skin with a smile that reached his almost black eyes. “However, I must be ok, because I see I’m not the last one to arrive. That makes me feel a little bit better, at least! Let me introduce myself, then. I’m Vance; and as you probably already know, I am representing the Politics portion of our little group. It’s so exciting to finally get to meet you, what a great opportunity!” He held out his hand first towards Mara.

“Mara, Science, first year,” she said with a genuine smile; not immune to the charm of Politics students, she found Vance instantly compelling and likeable.

“Mara, very nice to meet you; I don’t know much about what we will be working on as a team, but I am sure you as a Science student will be a truly valuable asset,” he shook her hand with a firm, practiced grip and moved on to Elba.

While Vance was greeting Elba (and once again making her blush), the door creaked on its hinges to allow the final member of their group into the room. Vance and Elba had quickly lapsed into a conversation—carried on mostly by the former—so it was Mara who first noticed the very tall young man with a striking slim, yet muscular, figure saunter in through the door. Runey from Design had a golden olive complexion that was incongruous to his deep red hair which was straight, kept a bit longish towards the front and messy. Mara, being only human, could not help but note the strong jaw line and deep marine blue of his eyes. He carried himself with a comfortable assurance, and unabashedly met Mara’s stare, and—she could clearly tell—made his own visual appraisal of her. In the few seconds since his entry, Mara had decided she didn’t like him. She was one to take note of good looks, but not one to be swayed by them (otherwise her encounter with Langdon in the elevator would have gone quite differently), and Runey’s casual demeanor which he demonstrated by being quite late to this meeting coupled with his unapologetic manner upon finally showing up, did not sit well with Mara’s constant adherence to her tasks and overall professionalism.

Runey seemed to have garnered quite the opposite impression of Mara, because, after his unchecked visual sweep of her body, he grinned widely and stepped towards her, “Hey, you must be Mara; nice to meet you! I’m Runey.”

Noting the lack of apology for being late, Mara remained blank-faced and shook Runey’s hand without bothering to stand up from her chair. “How did you know my name already?” she asked him.

“Watered silk tunic perfectly matched to leather leggings—all custom tailored. Designer bag. Hair which I am sure feels just as much like silk to the touch as it looks to the eyes. All around flawless. The way you look has ‘Science Student’ written all over it,” Runey said, clearly enjoying Mara’s growing consternation. He then leaned towards her conspiratorially and whispered, “Plus the other guy is literally talking her ear off. Bet he hasn’t stopped talking since he came in, right? And the other girl is pale as the moon and is sitting right by a giant computer bag—a bag which is made out of canvas, not vachetta leather, see?” Runey’s face was now very close to Mara’s as he said this, and she got the vague impression he was trying to flirt with her, but moreover she noticed distinctly that Elba and Vance had stopped talking and were looking at Mara and Runey with curiosity.

“Do you guys know each other?” laughed Vance as he strode over to greet Runey, shaking his hand and adding in a back clap in an apparent gesture of masculine bonhomie.

“Well, we do now,” Runey said, flicking a sly half-smile at Mara (who just stared back inscrutably), and then turning to Vance and returning a back clap as if the two had known each other for ages rather than a few minutes. “And you must be Elba,” he said, giving the Technology student a very warm smile and shaking her hand quickly.

“You must be pretty familiar with our meeting place, Runey, since this is your college,” Vance said as the four assembled themselves in the light wooden chairs at one of the long tables (Runey did not sit beside Mara, which initially relieved her until it became apparent that his position directly across from her made looking at him unavoidable).

“Yeah, I’ve spent lots of time down here,” Runey replied, “A lot of time in this very room, actually. This is where general art classes are held. First year students, like me, have to take a bunch of general art classes—like sculpture, painting, drawing, drafting. Gets us a feel and a familiarity with all aspects of design. Next year we get to start specializing more. I want to do drafting; it’s more like technical drawing than, say, doing a painting. Now my…uh, friend, she,” Runey tripped up awkwardly, then quickly said, “Well I am getting off topic. Not to mention stealing the spotlight. We haven’t gotten any further instructions on what we are supposed to do today, have we?”

Elba piped up, “No, but we are supposed to get some literally any minute now,” as she once again referred to the clock on her phone.

“Excellent,” Vance said, “I am very curious as to what the purpose of this all is. However, it is great just getting to mee—” he was cut off by the eerily simultaneous buzzing and dinging of all four of their phones.

“Guess we are about to find out,” Runey said, with an easy half-smile on which Mara found herself spending entirely too much time trying to decide if she found it charming or nauseating.