Starting a project can be really daunting! With several of my drafts, I’ve wound up throwing out my progress after I get a few chapters in. I always think it’s for the best to do so, but I still want to make the best product I can the first time around.
Recently I’ve talked about one of my newer projects, one exploring the myth of changelings and the nature of humans and fae. I’m happy to say that this week I’ve made some good progress, which does include already having a complete rewrite.
Usually, the goal of the start of a novel is to give the reader the main character’s status quo before things get shaken up. Think about Hunger Games, where Katniss is seen hunting in District 12 before the reaping. Percy Jackson is a troubled middle schooler before his identity as a half-blood is revealed. Bilbo enjoys his life in the Shire before he joins an adventure as their burglar. This is what I had to do here.
There are a few things I knew I wanted to introduce about my main character, Avan. I needed to establish her rapport with fae and her familiarity with their habits and manners. I need the reader to understand that she has a reputation as a sort of third party between human and fae differences/concerns. And I need her to get pulled away from all of this to investigate a mystery happening with the royal family. These are my goals, but there are a few different ways I could go about doing this.
Here is my first attempt from last week, the one that I abandoned but don’t regret writing.
“You know, my dear Avanalie, I’ve heard a rumor that some royal messenger is looking for the local witch. That couldn’t possibly be you they’re looking for, could it?”
Avan had learned by now to not flinch when a fae strolled out from her sturdy oak tree and into her yard. In the years since she had it enchanted, she had received many visitors, but hadn’t heard from this one in a while.
Standing from her crouched position at one of her flowerbeds, Avan turned to look at the tall slender creature before her. Eerily gaunt, with skin a dark olive and hair like hanging branches, The Fae of the Willow approached her. “Is that so, my friend? Did you happen to hear what for?”
The Fae of the Willow smiled mischievously. “I hope so you can put a curse on a duke, or cast a love spell on a far off princess.” They laughed haughtily at their own joke. “They ought to know by now there’s no such thing as witches!”
Avan made herself laugh along with her guest. Indeed, manners were the greatest power she had over the fae, and in turn, the world around her. Her understanding of their habits and nature was what had placed her in their good graces. And while she did have certain otherworldly benefits at her disposal, none of it was due to any magical powers of her own. But few cared to recognize the difference. And thus, ‘witch’ was the label most commonly placed upon her.
“I don’t know why any royal messenger would come for me,” Avan replied, now dusting off her gardening apron. “But I do know I would love to formally accept your company inside, if you’re so inclined.”
“My lady, I thought you’d never ask.”
Avan led the way into her small, but cozy, cottage. It resided on the outskirts of Falkirk, a moderately sized town beside the lake that shared the same name. She had inherited the home years ago, and had taken great care to improve its unkept state. Now, it was teeming with plants, books, natural ingredients, and all manner of strange and charming objects. A tarnished silver fork, given to her by a brownie, was displayed in a frame. A smooth glass ball, enchanted by a fae she had encountered on one of her travels, sat on the table. It currently appeared full of fog, accurately predicted the weather of the next day. And, most notably of all, in one corner, a willow sapling made of crystal was growing proudly in a large pot, a gift from the very fae who now entered her home.
The Fae of the Willow, no stranger to her cottage, sat at the small round table after they were properly invited inside. Fae could enter homes without permission, but it was considered very rude. And fae were sticklers for their manners, both logical and illogical from a human’s perspective.
Avan put a kettle over the small embers from this morning’s fire. She stoked the flames and added some extra wood to coax more heat. While the water readied, she prepped the tea leaves and cups, brought scones and jam to the table to share, and spoke amiably with The Fae of the Willow about all manner of things around their home. Avan’s guest lived within the largest willow on the bank of the lake, and was a sort of guardian of the land. The pair discussed the changing seasons, the fae that had come and gone recently, and even the rumors of some of the nearby fae kingdoms getting restless.
“There’s talk of some interference to come,” The Fae of the Willow said, an edge of seriousness to their tone that made Avan pause momentarily from her work of pouring the finished brew.
“There’s always some talk, isn’t there?” she replied, passing the cup and saucer to her guest. “There has been peace for a while now, surely no one would break it?”
“Not outright,” speculated the fae, taking a sip. “You know as well as I that peace makes noble fae uneasy. They always want something going on.”
“So long as it doesn’t reach Falkirk,” Avan murmured. She was about to ask another question about the nature of noble fae when there was a knock at the door.
Avan stood and went to the door. Enough interruptions over the years had come during tea with her guest, and there was an understanding between them that it was never out of place for Avan to see to the needs of whoever came knocking. Opening it, a young man, in his early twenties, stood before her, wringing his hands nervously. She didn’t recognize him.
“‘Ello, miss,” he began. “I ‘ear you know a thing or two about spirits? Er uh… the fae? Ya see, I ‘ave one I need some help with.”
“Of course, do come in,” Avan led the man to the table, where the Fae of the Willow was watching curiously, silently sipping from their cup. A gleam shone in their eyes at the new guests’ clear bafflement at their presence.
“Come have a seat,” they almost cooed. “I promise you no harm, little human.”
This seemed to do much to ease his worries. It was well known that fae couldn’t outright lie, although they could hide their true intentions behind their words. The man took a seat opposite the fae.
‘What seems to be the issue?” Avan asked him, pouring another cup of tea, hoping to bring him more comfort. He took a grateful sip before he spoke.
“It’s my harvest. The best’a my crops keep going missing. Patches of berries, a zucchini here an’ there, even a whole branch worth’a apples! I don’t grow much, ya see, so even somethin’ small like this is troublin’. I have a wife and two sons to feed. What ‘ave I done to upset the spirit’s o’ the land?”
The Fae of the Willow clucked their tongue. “Live on the land, little mortal. The fae were here for much longer than any of you.”
Avan gave them a glance that she hoped they’d interpret as “Not helpful”. They gave one back that seemed to say “But am I wrong?”. She returned her attention to the young man.
“What my guest here is saying is right, in a way. Humans came to live here long after the fae. Some have a unique way of treating the land as a result. Many fae will see anything they find as theirs, since they are used to doing so. That’s the most likely cause of your crops vanishing. They’re simply taking what they see fit.”
“So do I do somethin’ about it? Can I?”
Avan gave him a reassuring smile. “You can. You simply need to show them what is yours. It may seem silly, but put up more signs of human ownership around your crops. Fences, tools, scarecrows, anything that is man made. This will make any lesser fae hesitate. For any who still aren’t deterred, leave offerings for them. Outside your home, on any flagstone, leave them some samples of your crops. Not much, just enough to sate their curiosity. An apple, a handful of berries, some bread or produce. It doesn’t need to be the best of the bunch, but not just your scraps and leftovers. If you really want them to like you, a bowl of sugar water, in a wooden bowl.”
The young man was nodding. “And they’ll leave the rest alone?”
“Most likely,” Avan said. “Curiosity and a lack of defined ownership is usually the main culprit of missing items. Showing the fae a human produces the crop, and leaving them a sample tends to be enough. But, if in a week or two, if there is no noticeable change, return and I will look into it myself.”
This last assurance seemed to finally alleviate his concerns, and he sighed in relief. “Thank you, ma’am. I told my wife I was thinkin’ of askin’ and with her reaction you’d think she figured ya cursed our land yourself.” He then glanced at the fae sitting across from him. “No offense to either of y’all.”
The Fae of the Willow grinned mischievously, showing sharp teeth. “None taken.”
“We often fear what we don’t understand,” Avan cut in. “That is the role I serve. To bring understanding. Even if it is still foreign to most.”
Her second guest nodded, finished off the last of his tea, and got to his feet. “I’ll do as you suggested, and let you know if it doesn’t help.” He hesitated then. “Do I pay you, or…”
“No need,” Avan replied. “Not for something as minor as this.”
This wasn’t bad, but I felt that it was waaaaaay too slow. All of this was going to happen before the hinted messenger comes to summon Avan, but it felt awkward having three people drop in on her home. I like the characters and want to use them, but I need to get them to do something before the messenger comes a-knocking to mess things up. So I have to start somewhere else, then have the messenger come. It made most sense to pick things up with the man seeking her help, letting her do something more hands on.
So here’s what I have for my current draft, which I plan on moving forward with for the foreseeable future.
Avan looked over the decent sized plot of land, searching for tell-tale signs of fae. She saw them, subtle but present, almost everywhere she looked. A branch of an apple tree stripped perfectly of its apples, but the rest left untouched. Every third head of lettuce missing from the neat rows. Perfectly smooth stones where chicken eggs should be. And perhaps most curiously, the hollowed out zucchinis, just the seeds remaining inside of the husks. The owner of the plot, a tall young man who had called upon her earlier today, stood just behind her, and he wrung his hands together in anticipation of her assessment.
“You were right to call me,” she let him know. “You clearly have a tricky little visitor coming around.”
The man blanched. “Can I… do something? About the fae? Or am I stuck with it for good?”
“This isn’t the worst case I’ve seen around here,” Avan assured him quickly. “There’s still plenty you can do. I’d start with some fencing,” she gestured to a few specific gardened areas. “And some more clear signs of ownership. It may seem obvious to us that the produce belongs to someone, but they can’t always tell. Put up some signs or leave tools around. No pure iron, that could be seen as a threat, but copper or an alloy.
“Most of these actions seem to be done more out of curiosity than necessity, fae can get most of what nourishment they need from the wild, but they may want some of what you have here. One of the best things to do is to leave out an offering for them. A few times a week, leave some samples out for them. Not scraps or leftovers, but some quality pieces. If you want them to really like you, leave a bowl of sugar water for them. They adore the stuff.”
He nodded, much of the concern leaving his face. “I do all that, and they’ll leave me be?”
Avan gave him her best reassuring smile. “It should be as simple as that. But if you don’t see any changes after a week or two, call upon me again and I’ll try to communicate with them myself.”
The man took her hand enthusiastically and shook it. “Thank you truly, miss. Boy was I worried when I saw the zucchini. Had my wife scared almost to death they did. How can I ever repay you?”
“No need,” Avan said, gently pulling her hand away when the handshake went on longer than she would have preferred. Actually, she would have preferred none at all, but understood most people considered them as proper. “I didn’t have to do much other than look.”
“You still gave me your time, ma’am. I have to give you something in return, I simply wouldn’t feel right letting you go without something. Is there anything you need? Some apples? Eggs? Milk or butter?”
“I suppose I could use some eggs,” Avan conceded. After years of dealing with various fae ‘dilemmas’–usually missing items or strange minor happenings–she knew it was best to accept any payment, no matter how little she actually did.
The man gave her a great smile in response and led the way to his home. “My wife went into town earlier before you got here. Any talk of magic or fae spooks her, an’ I’m sure she was convinced you’d cast some spell or something to scare any magical critters away. You know, the magic stuff never bothered me myself, I always figured it was just a different kinda normal for a different kinda people. I’m sure farming seems like magic to someone who isn’t used to it!” He continued on with his ramblings. He seemed comfortable to keep chatting along, and Avan was comfortable letting him do so.
He welcomed her inside his home, comfortable despite its small size. A kitchen and table to seat six took up most of the main floor, and a ladder led to what she assumed was the loft for sleeping above. It was well decorated, and clearly a comfortable place to raise a family. Avan took a seat while he still kept on talking, explaining now the nature of his hens and the impressive size of the eggs they laid. While she partially listened and he collected various items in a basket, two young children suddenly slid down the ladder and began to excitedly talk all at once.
“Hi!” A young girl sporting two auburn pigtails declared excitedly, scrambling over to the table. “Are you the witch mama told us was coming?”
“Yeah! Mama told us she was going to town ‘cause there was a witch who was gonna maybe curse the house!” agreed a smaller boy, his hair equally bright and eyes just as wide and curious. “‘Cept you don’t look like a witch, you’re not ugly enough.”
“Willam!” scolded their father, as both kids giggled and bounced on their feet. “We don’t speak to our guests that way.”
Avan let herself smile. Children were not something she was overly accustomed to, but this pair seemed fine enough. And brutal honestly was something one got used to quickly when they dealt with fae, who could not lie.
“I’m not a witch,” she said to the kids. “Witches aren’t actually real, but sometimes people like me may get called one. I am a Speaker and a Listener. That’s what the fae like to call someone like me.”
The girl stared at her in awe, while the boy tilted his head in thought. “So you didn’t cast any spells? Or curse the house?”
“No, children, don’t worry. No human can cast magic on their own, but some may have magical items that they’ve been given by a fae who likes them. All I did to your home was help your father figure out how to stop the fae from sneaking your food away.”
“So no more rocks where the eggs should be?” asked the girl.
“No more,” Avan assured, standing up as their father approached, holding a basket laden with eggs, a pair of zucchini, a bottle of milk already slick with condensation, and a few other assorted bits of produce. More than Avan ever would have asked as payment, but she knew better than to turn down a gift, from fae or human alike. She took the generous offering from him.
“Please do let me know if you have more issues,” she told him, reminding herself to smile, not grimace, at the weighty gift. “But I am fairly confident that all will be well before you know it.”
He thanked her several more times as she made her way out the door. This was always her least favorite part, never knowing when it was finally appropriate to turn and leave. She made her escape with as little awkwardness as she could manage, and went on her way back to her home.
—
“I wish humans made as much sense as fae did,” Avan sighed before sipping from her tea cup. It was later that same afternoon, and Avan sat at her table in her home with one of her frequent guests, a high fae who was known simply as The Fae of the Willow. They were eerily gaunt, with skin a dark olive and hair like hanging branches, complete with silvery willow leaves. Like several fae Avan had met during her experiences as a Speaker and a Listener, they presented as neither male nor female. They were simply the embodiment of their particular piece of nature. In their case, one of the biggest willow tree near her home.
Her cottage resided on the outskirts of Falkirk, a moderately sized town beside the lake that shared the same name. She had inherited the home years ago, one of the last assets her once wealthy family owned, and had taken great care to improve its unkept state. Now, it was teeming with plants, books, natural ingredients, and all manner of strange and charming objects. A tarnished silver fork, given to her by a brownie, was displayed in a frame. A smooth glass ball, enchanted by a fae she had encountered on one of her travels, sat on the table. It currently appeared full of fog, accurately predicted the weather of the next day. And, most notably of all, in one corner, a willow sapling made of crystal was growing proudly in a large pot, a gift from the very fae who now dined with her.
Her guest laughed. “You may be the only human who thinks that way, my dear Avanalie. Some would say that we fae are the strange ones! Although I agree with you, most humans make little sense to me.”
I like this start much more than the first one. I think I have more of Avan’s character down, and I think the conversations are a lot more engaging and flesh out the world in a more intriguing way. I’ll continue this current conversation for a bit longer before having the king’s messenger arrive, and this will be what throws a wrench in Avan’s usual day-to-day.
You can see some of the paragraphs and sections that I copied right over. That’s one of my favorite parts about rewriting, since there is often pieces we can take and reuse. The first draft is never a waste of time if it helps us get to a better product later on.
I know this is hella long, so props to you all who made it this far! I want to keep sharing examples of my writing with you all, and I promise the next one will be more bite-sized. I hope you enjoyed this very real glimpse into my writing process! Until next time, dear readers.
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