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Friday, 5 June 2015

Experimenting

So I realised recently that most of my good projects come from writing exercises, from experiments. For example When I wrote Hunter I wanted to write a story all about magic, but never let the main character use it. When I wrote Exile I wanted to write a story all about a war, but never have the characters fight in it. When I wrote Dark Prince I wanted to write a story about a character with tons of social power but minimal magical power and a character with minimal social power but massive amounts of magical power and how they work together.
And so I wanted to talk to you about my latest short story, it's called the Receiving Room. The premise is that the main character is a room in the house of a lord in a mythical kingdom not unlike Victorian london. The room - the receiving room - is where the majority of things in the house happens. Its where the lord greets his guests, where he talks to his business interests, and with the back of the room opening up onto hte ballroom it is where things like weddings and wakes happen. I want to tell a story from the perspective of this one room. It will be a story of love and loss, war and peace, betrayal and business.
The reason I want to do it is because I think it'll be very interesting to write, and hopefully interesting to read.

I dont have much so far. Only the first scene and a bit of the second or third scene, but I thouhgt I'd share it with you. The first pass at least.

“And this is the receiving room, where one greets and entertains the more formal of their guests. The room is twenty feet by twenty-five feet.” Garrett explained as he stepped into the final room of the house, moving aside so that the latest husband and wife couple could step in behind him. With most homes the receiving room, as the first room any guest would see - other than the entrance hallway of course - would be the first room shown to prospective buyers, but whenever the agents of the estate showed the Ravenwood Estate they showed the room last.
The receiving room of the Ravenwood estate was a masterpiece. Garrett had known people to hate the entire rest of the house, only to turn around and swear that they would get the money to purchase it somehow.
“The floor is the original dark oak hardwood, over solid stone to block any sort of infestation that might arise in any other home.” He explained, turning to the couple as they looked around the room. The man was tall and quite severe looking, one of the wealthier business owners in the City. Garrett knew that he would have no hold over him. The beauty of the room would not sway him and his cold demeanor. The young woman, however, she was a different matter. She was beautiful and seemed sweet, excitable, passionate and all the positive adjectives that were appropriate to use for some other man’s wife.
What she saw in the cold man, Garrett had no idea. His wallet, perhaps? It didn’t matter. She was his in. While the man appeared unmoving and unemotional it did appear that he cared for the woman, loved her even. There was a moment at the bedrooms that she had become excited by the curtains and the wall murals when he had almost certainly smiled. Garrett knew that if he convinced her then he would have the sale he needed. “The hip level wood panelling of the walls is a lovely rosewood that matches the rest of the ground floor. notice the engravings all along the top that line up perfectly with the murals above? These were both created by master artisan Darrin Go’Hall.”
“Genuine Go’Hall work?” The young woman exclaimed, gasping. “The Go’hall? who painted the walls of the Clairmont Citadel?”
Garrett smiled, concealing the surprise at the woman’s knowledge of classical art. “The very same.” He sad. “He also sculpted the fireplace. Note the exquisite workmanship, how the rosewood blends with the dark colours of the fireplace stone and metal grate? You can hardly tell where one begins and the other ends, thanks to the carving on the wood and the stone.”
“Wow.” She exclaimed, taking in every intricate detail of the floral carvings, the vines and the small animals that looked so real that they might burst from the wood at any moment.
“Now; if I could draw your attention to the rest of the room.” Garrett continued, waving an arm around the room, focusing on the furniture. In one corner was a personal bar, already stocked with fine whiskies and wines. In the centre were various seats. An armchair, a three seater sofa and a chaise longue with matching off white, green and red floral pattern. The sofa and the chaise longue faced each other, about four feet apart with the armchair blocking the end furthest from the door to the room leaving a gap at one end to allow people to walk into the island of seating without having to squeeze through an inappropriately small gap. Between each chair was a small identical table, topped with small circles of varnished wood for those seated to place their drinks glasses upon.
The walls were as uncluttered as possible, to allow important visitors to have a man-servant or two standing at the ready. There were three slightly larger tables, made with the same wood and carved with the same patterns as the smaller tables and the wood panelling.
“It’s beautiful.” The young woman said to her cold man, almost involuntarily.
“The furniture will be remaining when the current owners vacate.” Garrett added. “Some of it is fine work, you can keep it or sell it if you have furniture of your own.”
“I love it.” The young woman said, and Garrett’s greed drank in the meaning.
His gaze turned to the cold man and a crinkle appeared at the corners of the cold man's lips and eyes. A smile. He nodded slightly and turned to Garrett. “We’ll take it.” He said. “Lord Victor McAdams and Lady Amelia McAdams.”

It's only a first pass, but I'mhopeful that I'll be able to write this story. I like it. Or I like the idea.
I find it interesting.

Fallout-Tubage
-James

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