I spent more hours researching today than I did writing.
The threads under study are for Books Two and Three of Peace Makers, but the roots have to be planted in Book One. So I'm now going back and adding a third level of "bad guys" to the story.
No, I haven't written the last chapter. Things will happen there that result from what I'm working on now, so I'm waiting. Plus, today was a bad-guy kind of day.
Here is a paragraph from one of the scenes:
"He watched her performance for another minute, reveling in his good fortune at finding the perfect patsy. It was time to update the council. Stretching webbed fingers to the console to change bandwidths, he halted. The woman had begun singing. The song reverberated in some distant corner of his memory. The voice was angelic, like the Elohim from which he was descended, though he was far removed from his lofty forebears. He’d been stuck in this hellhole too long."
That, my friends is an excerpt from a nasty character I am working on, though evil isn't my strong suit. It is distasteful for me, even to write. I have a mechanism, a safety valve, that keeps me far removed from that sort of thing. Some call it naive, I call it dwelling in the good. To write not-so-nice characters and situations, I have to unlock that mechanism for a while.
As I said today on Facebook, it is so much easier for me to write the good ones.
Thanks for stopping by. Let me know if you like it. Or not
~ Olivia J. Herrell
P.S. Thank you to author Christine L. Hardy, who inspired tonight's post .
3 comments:
Oh yeah, I liked it. Nicely done. Cool that you have that switch.
.......dhole
I did? Well, you're welcome Olivia. I'm glad you're getting in touch with your inner villain.
Ooh, I got chills. I'm intrigued. And very, very interested. I need to go Google "Elohim"...or was that something you came up with?
Villains are harder to write for me than heroes. I know what makes a hero tick. I don't know where a villain's heart lies. The bad guy in my book started out as just some corrupt corporate executive-turned-megalomaniacal god-king. His lines were grandiose and inane and any hack writer could have written them. Then I tore him up and replaced him with someone who still wore suits and lapel pins, but who was a great deal less stuffy and more fun-loving. In an I'm-going-to-use-you-for-target-practice-and-your-firstborn-child-for-a-dead-baby-joke sort of way.
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