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- Rank: Eccentric Mentor
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Wah-!???!? How?!? How could you laugh at such a sad story! Oh, and there was the avocado story too… but that one wasn’t nearly as sad as the teacher and student story!
@the_lost-journal
Emojis are inherently goofy
⭐️World's Slowest Writer⭐️
- Rank: Eccentric Mentor
- Total Posts: 1223
XD ya… they are! But did I make you shed any teeeaaaarrrrssss????
@the_lost-journal
noooooo XD sorry
⭐️World's Slowest Writer⭐️
- Rank: Eccentric Mentor
- Total Posts: 1223
Hey, would you still be up for doing this in the next month or so? I realize I never got around to writing/sending you a story.
I was writing one that would go in the “Appendix” for Portals: When My Story Ate Me. I just didn’t feel like it was really coming home. I realize now that I rely a bit too much on the reader’s ability to read between the lines/see the impact only because they know the character really well already. So, if you want a short story and would have the time in the next month to draw the characters, I would love to take the challenge again.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
Yeah the challenge is still open for anyone! I have no idea when the characters will be finished if I do draw them, but I’ll try not to take very long. I’d really love to read your short story.
⭐️World's Slowest Writer⭐️
YAY!
*poofs off to find project*
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
Yes, I did! I was trying to finish writing it, then got caught up all day getting stuff ready for our Dad’s birthday.
It’s basically written now. I’ll stop second guessing it. XD
Morning had come at last. It warmed the winding halls of the palace in gentle waves of sunlight that no nightmare could stand against. Ellidan leaned against a wall to catch his breath and felt the last residues of dread drift away on the swelling tide of hope. Someone was singing nearby, and a steady sweep of a birch broom swished from around a bend.
The elven lord pushed away from the wall with steadier movements than before. His boots tapped their way over the marble quicker, quicker, until he was almost running. He passed the door to his brother’s chambers without a second glance. This was no time for tears. Hope came with a desperation to know for sure.
He rushed on until he found a narrow door wreathed in carvings of meadow flowers and twisting vines. Even the stonework was alive this morning. Its many set jewels glittered like the dew at daybreak.
Ellidan reached out and pushed against the handle. An inner latch clicked, sending the door to swing smoothly back on hinges crafted long ago. However, nothing was old about the room inside. Ivy trailed up from the window to where a bow hung from one wall, scaled for a half-grown archer and more useful for adventures with friends than battle. Below it a collection of balls were rolled together where someone had hurriedly left off playing. Ellidan smiled at them and closed the door behind him.
Yes, the morning had come here too. Long beams of sunlight fell onto the bed and its small occupant. This at least, was spared. Nothing could harm the greatest treasure of Imlidris’ line.
Ellidan patted the edge.
“Onnendel.”
It took a moment. The blankets stirred sleepily, then parted to let a little head of dark hair appear.
“Per-ada?” Onnendel’s voice was soft, distant. He pushed his covers further back with drowsy impatience. Ellidan chuckled and reached across the bed to free the boy. His lanky, thinly clad legs swung happily from the edge of the bed.
But not beyond.
The prince held a pleading hand out toward Ellidan. It was too small and thin to belong to the boy who could shoot the berries from a rowan tree. Ellidan flinched, suddenly unable to take it.
Onnendel did not notice but stretched his hand out further. A sunbeam caught it and filled his fingers with glowing love. The boy blinked in surprise and flexed his hand.
“Did the day come already? Per-ada, will you open the window? It’s dark.”
Ellidan stared helplessly at his nephew. His mind spun to find the words to answer, but his voice would make no sound. It was a fight to breathe.
“Per-ada? Are you there?” The child’s face blanched. He drew his hand back and huddled on the edge of his bed. Fear too familiar trembled in every line of his rumpled nightshirt.
Ellidan gasped. “Yes, little one.”
He caught Onnendel and held him close. The room was quiet but for the sound of their hearts beating. His nephew sighed.
“Don’t go. Please don’t go.”
“Hush. I am here.”
“The window… ” Onnendel stirred. The falling sunlight lit his eyes into twin pools of green and cloudy white. Ellidan kissed his forehead.
“I will try, little one. I will try.” He walked over to the window, still holding Onnendel although the boy should have been too big to carry. The shutters were already open, but he swung the glass aside until the morning wind fanned their faces. Onnedel smiled and touched a sudden wet place on his forehead.
“Is it storming? Are the clouds hiding the sun?”
“Clouds? Yes, they do.” Ellidan gazed out into the beautiful, gleaming world. He did not try to stop his tears.
“Onnendel, you are blind.”
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
LooooOoooopy….
LooOOOOOOooooopy….
*In the voice of the Loch Ness from The Silent Spy*
Meanwhile Viktor is sitting frozen in the RP. I guess I’ll go help him, lol.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
@elishavet-pidyon I posted a response in my profile because this topic was glitching out really bad earlier
⭐️World's Slowest Writer⭐️
That’s a very pretty scene, as well as being sad. I love it.
I am out of signature ideas
@the_lost-journal
I did not notice you asked questions, my apologies!
So how could a death help the plot?
I feel like it really depends on the plot itself. I know that’s a vague answer and isn’t helpful. XD But there are so many different character arcs and plots out there, so I can’t come up with rules for every one of them. Just think of a death as a thematic point. If the dying character represents love/fear/an ideology/a special role/anything, their death necessarily represents the death of the concept. Or maybe they die because the situation in the story has drastically changed for the worst, and you’re trying to prove how bad things are. Or or or they wanted to do something drastic for the good side, and their life was a fair trade for it.
How could I use the info that you gave me?
If you’re writing a death, think of the points I brought up. If you want to. You can kill off a character if the inspiration strikes and I can’t control you, lol.
Are there some examples you have where the author does what you are telling us not to do?
Spoilers for Spiderman and Keeper of the Lost Cities
…
I would argue Gwen Stacy’s death in TASM 2 was well done from an acting standpoint, but not from a writing standpoint. See, Peter is supposed to go through an arc of trying to do too much and realizing he cannot save everyone. He loses Gwen while trying to save her. It’s a canon event in every Spiderman retelling. TASM 2, however, did not communicate this story well. There was a lot of physical action, but I personally did not see enough conflict in Peter to feel the emotional struggle. The movie just did not orchestrate the arc properly. Because of that, the death was technically ‘development,’ just not a development properly foreshadowed by Peter’s arc. It felt random. I sat there in genuine confusion because I didn’t understand the point of her death. That movie fails by my 5th point.
To see a better example of this Spiderman arc, see Across the Spiderverse.
There is also a death in KotLC that blatantly tries to make the reader cry and then reverses the death’s impact. Mr. Forkle dies in a villain attack. He is the mentor of the good group, so everyone is super upset. In the next book, we discover he had an identical twin, and the two of them were sharing the mentor job without telling anyone. This new Mr. Forkle has the same exact body, personality, and motivations. So from a storytelling standpoint, Mr. Forkle was resurrected. XDXD Which is also sort of offensive for twins? Whatever. That death fails by my 6th point.
Do you think the villain dying at the end is not always necessary? Or mostly necessary…?
Some stories don’t have villains. And even if they do, some villains aren’t the kind of villains you kill off. Think of contemporary teen books or many family-friendly movies. But I’ll put that aside.
You can kill them off if you want, especially if it’s a fantasy and the reader will think of them as a cockroach that might come back to life. Usually it depends on the stakes of the story. If these are life and death stakes, and the villain’s victory might kill the heroes, it stands to reason the villain might die if the heroes win. But I’m very neutral about villain deaths, to be honest.
Finally, I have a planned character death… but it is to move the plot along… well… I think it is…?
I think the death you explained makes perfect sense. It gets things moving and causes chaos because of what the character represents.
I am out of signature ideas
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