Skip to main content

Character confusion and complete consternation

Okay, so much of the problem I'm having with my WIP is coming from the criss-crossing my characters seem to insist on doing with each other. I should have known when I titled this story, Tangle of Matter and Ghost, that I was sure to curse myself.... and this Voodoo hex may have no cure   >_<

Quick list of characters:
Aggie            Joseph           Billy          Ralph       Chester      Jefferson      Ambrose       Charlotte
Emily            Aldia              Benjamin   Esther      Letty          Marie          Jebediah        Granny
Preacher       Nathaniel

Now the ties:
Aggie/Joseph-- Runaway slaves dabbling in Voodoo

Ol' Gray Granny-- Healer that taught Aggie "healing" Voodoo, not what she now practices

Ambrose/Charlotte-- Carmichael family, parents of Emily and Esther, also underground railroad station masters

Emily-- Mother of Aldia, wife of Benjamin (who runs off, leaving wife and daughter to fend alone)

Esther-- Orphanage mistress where Billy is kept until he runs off and meets up with Aggie/Joseph

Letty-- Mother of Marie, who "runs" to the Carmichael station house on their way to freedom

Jefferson-- Slave master of Aggie/Joseph/Granny/Letty, hires bounty hunter to bring his slaves back

Nathaniel-- Bounty hunter tracking Aggie/Joseph and eventually Letty/Marie

Billy/Ralph/Chester-- All wind up binding themselves to Aggie and become part of her "band" of travelers

Jebediah--Brickmaker/contractor that Ambrose hires to build his house, built on cursed land (Indian slaughterings), built with cursed bricks (bones of the Indians ground into the clay)

And, all of this is happening with the Civil War as a backdrop--
It's the balance between the emotional connections of the characters and the tragic histories of slavery and war that I'm hoping to find.
That, and to be able to lay out the back-story of the cursed land and the Civil War battles without devoting great lengths of chapter space to them---- they are meant to be a 'backdrop' after all, and not another sub-plot ...oy


Popular posts from this blog

Y is for Yeth Hound.....

Yeth Hound--- one of the incarnations of the "Black Dog" myth, this one located specifically, in Devon, England.

"Black Dogs" appear in myths across the world, most are associated with death and bad omens... i.e. Hell Hounds.

The Yeth Hound is said to be the spirit of an unbaptised child that takes the form of a headless black dog. The Hound wanders the woods at night making pitiful wailing sounds (though, I'm unclear as to how it makes wailing sounds without having a head).

The Black Dogs were possibly one inspiration from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's ghost dog in The Hound of the Baskervilles-- "an enormous coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen."

Heed Not, the Lonesome Cry
Heed not, the lonesome cry, the baleful wail echoing through the woods. Seek not, the black hound's sigh, look not where the headless creature stood.
One sound, your limbs will shake, your heart filled with the deepest dread. One glimpse, your sou…

I is for...

... Iron Maiden

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? ---Edgar Allan Poe

---and not the English heavy metal band from East London...

Day 2 in the realm of morbid/macabre torture devices finds us back in the Middle Ages (there was definitely a fashionable trend of imaginative torture devices during this time). Though, the Middle Ages isn't really when we should be turning our attention when we discuss the Iron Maiden. In fact, there has been some debate as to the exact appearance of this monstrous creation.

It's probably easiest to relocate such a torturous thing back to a time when it seemed everyone was as skilled at exacting a confession as they were at creating the tools to exact those confessions. It's easier to blame ancestors from several hundred years ago than to accept that anyone of civilized disposition would be capable of doing such horrible things with such terrif…

Scottish Festival and a bit of poetry...

The 38th annual Arkansas Scottish Festival was held at Lyon College in Batesville, Arkansas on April 7th - April 9th. This was the first time I'd ever attended. I'm sad to say I didn't even know the festival existed until last year. On Saturday, April 8th, a group of friends and I made the several-hour trek, determined to enjoy everything we could.
The weather was glorious, all bright, bonnie sunlight and mild temperatures. Seemed mother nature approved of the festivities. The campus was appropriately kitted out, and nearly everyone in attendance was properly *ahem* kilted out. 
Bagpipes playing, we ate meat pies--- well, mine was a 5-cheese mac & cheese pie--- watched clans parade their colors, got sunburned (darn our fair, Celtic skin), and wanted the day to last forever.
There were a host of competitions, everything from Scottish/Irish dance-offs, sheep dog trials, Tartan races, a Celtic poetry competition, piping and drum trials, even a bonniest knees competition (…