As you may remember, I love to write about characters and character driven stories in a fantasy setting. The magic in my stories is generic. I don't develop complex, logical magic systems that follow precise rules and specific energy sources. Some of my fight scenes may not be totally accurate, but for me, that is not critical to the story. It is all about the characters.
I also tend to read visually, and therefore try to write the same way. A story with page after page of dialogue drives my crazy because there is nothing to inspire a picture of the scene in my mind. On the other hand, pages of description forces me to see things and doesn't allow my imagination to come into play. It also breaks any connection I had to the characters.
I try very hard to walk that fine line where there is just enough description to invoke a readers imagination, and the dialogue will open up a window into the characters personality. Your idea of a beautiful sunset may be different than mine, so why should I try and force you to see it the way I do. Granted, while writing fantasy, there will always be a little extra description because my world is not entirely similar to our own.
This week I wanted to share a little scene that popped into my head while looking at a picture. Even though it is short, I hope I was able to convey the different personalities of the characters, and develop a picture in your mind. Thanks for taking the time to read.
The rays of the early morning sun filtered down from the forest canopy high above to light the way for two un-likely friends.
“Floxie, why do you insist on dragging me out so early in the morning? You know I hate getting my paws wet and who knows what kind of little surprises the birds have left for me to step in.”
“Oh hush, silly. You know we have to be at Wizard Zolars’ early or we won’t get any treats.”
“Fine, but do you have to ride on my back the whole way? Those feet of yours are almost as big as mine and perfectly good for walking. The day you learn how to use those silly things on your back you call wings, I will be one happy feline.”
Floxie’s high spirits threatened to plummet as she thought about her wings. Why couldn’t she figure out how to make the stupid things work. There are two constants among pixies; they have big feet and they can fly. Was there something wrong with her?
As soon as they stepped out of the forest and onto the stones leading to the Wizard’s cottage, Mr. Whiskers began to shake his paws vigorously to dry them off. Floxie hopped down, her head hung low, still thinking about the uselessness of her wings.
The Wizard stepped out of his cottage and came forward to meet them. He bent down and cupped his hand so Floxie could climb on. He raised her up to where his star filled, bright blue eyes could lock onto hers’ and drew her in.
“Floxie, I have a very special treat for you. Today you will learn how to fly!”