Glitter and the Crown of Fae Series

Sharon Ashwood
February 9, 2025  •  No Comments

Glitter book coverThe first words of the first chapter are a careful choice.  We’re told to launch the narrative at the moment when everything changes, withholding any background explanation until such time as the reader is thoroughly hooked by the drama. Building an entire fantasy world and figuring out where to start is even harder. Or, in the case of the Crown of Fae series, starting when the end of the world begins (and figuring out how to end that beginning).

Initially there were four orderly novels, then a prequel (Flicker) and now a prequel to the prequel (Glitter) designed to fold in all that backstory we’re not supposed to tell. I blame the Brightwing dragon shifters, who keep invading my carefully plotted history with yet one more family member wanting a story of their own. First it was Fliss and her boarding school adventure. This time it was big brother Telkoram and the school’s headmistress, Caliste. I won’t say they have a meet cute, but they definitely meet and are about as cute as a dragon can manage.

About that backstory. Those who have dipped into the books may remember the four groups of elemental fae wish to summon their High King to rescue Faery from the Shades. Quake features the earth fae—especially the wolves–and also the outcome of the quest for the High King. The seeds of this story are sewn in Flicker and Glitter, where there was more scope to detail the history of the story world in an entertaining way. In other words, sometimes a prequel of a prequel is entirely necessary and not the hyper-indulgence it first appears.

No wonder Tolkien had entire volumes about all the stuff that came before Bilbo and the gang. It takes a very large canvas to paint an entire universe.

Glitter is exclusive to my reader community. If you’re interested in joining and receiving that story for free, sign up here.


Out of Winter


February 2, 2025  •  No Comments

snowdropsJanuary and February are such odd months. If we get snow here, it’s usually now. On the other hand, my yard is full of early blooms. We’re stuck in a half-and-half holding pattern, ready for spring but not yet out of winter.

This season leaves me restless. The bright sun draws the whole city outside, so on my walk this bright afternoon, the park was crowded. I witnessed a cricket match, wandering peacocks, and ducks in love. A few people sat outside, bundled up to their eyebrows but still eating ice cream sundaes. It seems everyone else is ready to shake off winter, too.

The same impatience infects my writing. My work in progress is so last year. I finished the rough draft of Glitter last night and of course there will be plenty of editing to do, but my heart is already leaping toward the next adventure. I can hear the characters’ voices luring me on. They have secrets, and I must know what they are.

Every new book is different, but there is always a dance, a courtship with the essence of the story. The tale has to be unique, and there must be a challenge to keep my interest—a new technique or unknown subject matter. I can’t write the same book time and again any more than a reader wants a repeat.

Equally important, the characters must be willing to surrender—not all of them are—and be ready to spread out their loves and heartbreaks like wares in a hidden market. If I must be worthy of their trust, they must woo me as well. I won’t weave just anyone into a tale.

Which is why I’m always intrigued by new voices in my imagination. I’m ready to be seduced. It’s time to leave my creative winter even if the real-life season isn’t done. A new story is demanding to bloom.

 


A Simple Revision Tool


July 21, 2024  •  No Comments

GraphOne of the first writing workshops I ever taught was about a simple revision tool for structuring a novel’s plot structure, and over a decade later I still use the same principles.

I’ve never been a great out-of-the-gate plotter because I’ve never seen a literary butterfly I didn’t want to chase. But, If I plot too much, I get bored with the story because I know what happens. If I fail to plot, I end up with a big steaming mess. Because I can’t avoid this struggle, I learned to get words on the page and revise later. Usually, I go through some kind of a course-correction process about every 5 to 10 chapters. It’s a chore, but it works.

The process is extremely simple. I know the main two or three characters have a character arc. If it’s a romance I know there’s a conflict between the two lovers. I know there’s an external plot—the mystery or adventure that drives the book. Maybe there’s a theme or two I’m keeping track of, a subplot, or other notable thread. So I make a table with each of these as a row, and create a column for each chapter. It will look something like this:

Chapter

1

2

3

Story Action

Hero’s Arc

Heroine’s Arc

Romance Conflict

Mystery/External Plot

Subplot 1

Subplot 2

I recall the participants of that first workshop looking wild-eyed at the prospect of using a spreadsheet. In truth, any table will do. Hand draw the squares and stick it on the wall—whatever works. The object of the game is to have a container for your notes. Under each chapter, list what happens in that chapter that advances each arc, conflict, or plot. If there’s nothing for a particular row, that’s okay, but most of the squares should have something. If they don’t, why is that chapter in the book?

I like doing this because it allows me to a) not lose a plot thread, b) spin out the threads evenly across the story, and c) ensure my timeline makes sense. Also, if I have a lot going on that doesn’t fit on the table, I can either weave it in better or get rid of it. It’s also helpful to flag key points (climax, black moment, point of no return, etc) that are important to the story structure. One wants the emotional conflict and psychological development of the characters to track properly with external events.

This is terrifically helpful if I get stuck. If I put down what has happened to date (say, up to chapter 6), I can make sure I know what needs to come next. If I’ve wandered off course or I’m not driving to the next plot point, it’s obvious. I’ve heard that most “writer’s block” is actually “writer is lost in a web of their own devising.” Creating a map helps.


The Three Inspirations of Leena: building a character


June 26, 2021  •  No Comments

Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world. ― Voltaire

Fire is light and movement and passion. It comforts and terrifies, gives life and destroys it. To embody this element, my heroine of the fire fae had to be a creature of contrasts, so itdancer seemed natural that she’d be a dancer. Few things demand such primal abandon and rigorous discipline at once.

*

Where do characters come from? It’s one thing to imagine the type of character we want—a fire fae, a spunky barista, a master thief. However, creating a protagonist who can lead a complex story goes beyond a simple archetype. We need broad strokes, but we also need emotions, contradictions, history, and a deep well of desires that are completely unique to that individual. Real people are messy and complicated. Characterization should capture some of that, even if the heroine is a paranormal being.

My characters come to me in many different ways, but in this case Leena and Smolder arrived through three inspirations. The first came from Stravinsky’s 1913 ballet, The Rite of Spring. At the time of its premier, both the music and choreography shocked audiences—a lusty depiction of ritual sacrifice was just too distant from the floaty tutus usually seen on the Paris stage. But if anything could summon flame from the core of the universe, it was this creation, and I loved its strangeness and power at first sight. Stravinsky also wrote The Firebird, so my subconscious clearly owes him a debt for my book about a dancer and a phoenix.

So, I had my concept of what a fire fae should be—the flavor or keynote of her nature. But Leena is a person and not a ballet, so I used a writing meditation to find the core of her psychology. It’s perfect as a second step, when an author knows the basic facts about a character and it’s time to find out more:

Imagine yourself in a character’s room. What is there? What does it tell you about the character?

shawlLeena’s room in the poorer district of Eldaban has little in it, but I found a woolen shawl woven in a pattern that is typical of her mountain tribe. What does it say about her? A shawl is used to keep warm, but it’s also good for carrying possessions, gathering apples, making a baby sling, or as a shroud. The wool would come from the family’s sheep. The women of the tribe would spin and weave it. A mother might make a shawl as a gift for her daughter as a sign that she was ready to forge her own future. That told me a lot about Leena’s people—humble, independent, and steeped in the love of their home and family.

I did a similar exercise around Leena’s chatelaine, which she carries with her in Smolder. (For those who don’t know, chatelaines were a short of tool-holder that clipped to a belt. Here is a beautiful example of one from the nineteenth century.) At first, I didn’t know how Leena would use the chatelaine in the story, but she insisted on having it. It turned out to be essential to the plot, so sometimes the character knows best!

So now that I knew who Leena was, I had to know how she finds the courage to walk into extreme danger. My third inspiration was Fionn, her brother. She held his hand when theydancer 2 fled the destruction of their homeland. She raised him from the time they were orphaned children, but now he’s a grown man with ambitions of his own. When he makes a terrible choice, what’s a big sister to do? Try to save him, of course, even if it’s a task far beyond anything she’s braved before. This was the motivation that launched my story’s plot.

So, to return to the initial question of where do characters come from–mostly they walk into my head fully formed, but once in a while I get to know them in a more organized way. These three steps describe how I discovered enough about Leena to begin writing her adventure. I found the inspiration, developed her backstory, and gave her strong motivation. They helped me find her spark at the start.

As befits a fire fae, she needed no help from me to set the rest of the story ablaze.


Pawsitive Attraction


June 20, 2021  •  2 Comments

Never work with animals or children. – W.C. Fields

Pets steal the show, whether at a family picnic, in a meme, or as part of your story. Thousands of cat videos prove the magnetic attraction of furry characters, the more Brigid 1ridiculous the better. As a case in point, readers of Smolder, third in the Crown of Fae series, talked as much about Kifi the talking temple cat as the hero, heroine, and villains combined. Small, sassy, and very much the star of her own story, she got to be outrageous in ways that human characters could never pull off.

Writing such characters well isn’t always easy. Stage management is a constant problem. If your book is a romance, Fido has to be parked before the humans can have alone time. If it’s an action-packed thriller, one is in a constant state of saving the cat. As a rule, I carefully control the amount of time the little scene-stealers are on the page. Otherwise, as the storyline becomes a logistics nightmare, dog-napping starts to look like a practical plot twist. Plus, while any side character can hog the limelight, animals are the worst. Don’t give them all the best lines.

So why include an animal as a side character in your book? The cute factor wears off eventually, but pets can be effective character extensions of their humans. What does it say about the lumberjack when it turns out he picks a goggle-eyed pug over a pit bull for his rescue project? Have you noticed how many B-movie villains own smug Brigid 2felines? The Game of Thrones series (especially the books) used a litter of wolf puppies as shorthand for the lives and fates of the Stark children. Through their presence, animals can contrast or comment on the rest of a narrative and its characters.

Or, they can level up and play a role in the action. Murder-solving pets are a staple of the mystery genre. A favorite of mine is Monty the golden retriever and his handler, Sarah Patrick, in Iris Johansen’s mysteries. Monty is a cadaver dog, which gives him an important role in the stories. He knows his role and understands when he’s done his job—or when he’s failed—in a very realistic way. An animal’s vulnerability naturally heightens the emotion of a situation, whether that’s for laughter or nail-biting drama.

Integrating an animal character into the plot can mean giving them a story goal and character arc. In Smolder, Kifi joins the quest so she can meet her queen, a decision that turns out to have important consequences for the human characters. Kifi is also a feline, with all the sassy good and bad that entails. There is a temptation to make pets too adorable, and a dash of naughtiness avoids sentimentality.

The gold standard, in my opinion, remains the Narnia series by C.S. Lewis. He writes about talking animals, but they are memorable creations with personality, flaws and a Brigid 3purpose. The author treats them as fully formed characters and so makes them integral to the story. No one who has met Reepicheep or Mr. Tumnus will soon forget them.

Even if that’s going deeper into fantasy than is appropriate for your story, it’s worth considering what’s on your fictional pet’s mind. The trick is to make those fuzzy characters work hard for their time on stage and deliver good story value. When W.C. Fields warned that animals can easily steal the show, he understood their power to entertain.


It’s all in the cards!

Emma Jane Holloway
August 20, 2020  •  No Comments

The ScorpionWould you like me to tell your fortune? For a silver coin, I will consult my tarot cards. Ah, yes, I foresee you’re about to encounter a large to-be-read pile…

I imagined a unique set of tarot cards while planning the Hellion House series. The images in the deck came to me very strongly while I was first making notes about the books.  Scorpion Dawn, Leopard Ascending, Chariot Moon—these are all airships, but those vessels got their names from the cards. Fortune’s Eve recounts the first time that tarot comes into play. For those who like to follow story breadcrumbs, pay attention to that scene.

Of course, it had to be a deck I’d never seen before, which meant recording the entire thing as it appeared in the story a bit at a time. Here’s what I know so far…

Suites

The deck has five suites (sky, fire, earth, water, spirit) of thirteen cards each. Each suite relates to an aspect of being. For instance, earth rules the material plane.

Images

Most of the images on the cards are single animals, plants, or other straightforward objects.

Readings

To cast a reading, lay out the cards in a triangle. They naturally fall into the rising, descending, or hidden positions on the three sides. Therefore, the leopard in an ascending position means that its influence is on the rise and all that fiery animal passion is going a-prowling. The closer it is to the apex of the triangle, the more pronounced its energy will be. If the leopard is on the other side of the triangle, it would indicate the hunt was waning or going awry. If the card was at the bottom of the triangle, it would mean kitty’s energy was turned inward, either asleep or rebuilding for a future time. A fulsome reading would involve a dozen or so cards.

Scorpion Dawn refers to the first awakening of the protective scorpion. The legend has it that when the mighty hunter Orion slaughtered far too many animals, the goddess sent the lowly scorpion to protect her creatures. Too small to be noticed, the scorpion nonetheless poisoned Orion with a sting to the heel. Never underestimate the little guy—or girl—especially if she gets this card.

The main function of the cards in the story is as a means of exploring the characters and their drives. Like all such elements in fiction, it’s a seasoning and not a main dish. Too much and it gets awkward, but it’s a useful way to highlight a moment here and there.

Custom illustration by Leah Friesen


Happy book birthday, Flicker!

Sharon Ashwood
June 14, 2020  •  No Comments

Happy book birthday to Flicker, a prequel novella in the Crown of Fae series.

Wait? Why release a prequel halfway through the series? Well, I wanted to tell a story about Fliss, Ronan’s charming little sister and how she met Laren, the dashing water fae. She’s been a supporting character until now deserved a tale of her own. And, that largely happened.

What I wasn’t expecting was that these were TEENAGERS. Whether I liked it or not, my characters were crazy, wrong-headed, adorable, and insane—rather like most of us are at that age. As a result, this book has action galore, school problems, scary teachers, and a dash of sweet romance. This makes it more YA than the rest of the series, but (I think) in a fun way.

What was intended as a short story became a novella. In amongst all that youthful drama, I was able to set up some characters and circumstances that shape the next few books. Keep an eye on that enchanted bird. There might even be a clue to an Easter egg buried in one of the books already out.

For those who’ve read the books so far, the timeline between Flicker and Shimmer is as follows (no real spoilers here):

  • In the prequel, Fliss is thirteen.
  • The Shades arrived a hundred years before.
  • The battle of Ildaran Falls, after which many of the fae fled Faery, was twenty years before.
  • After the events of Flicker, Laren joins the older dragons in some of their exploits, becoming friends with Ronan. Ronan and Fliss, however, don’t see much of each other until Shimmer, where she is a fully adult fae.
  • Ronan’s journey begins in Faery, but when Shimmer begins, he’s been in the human realms for some time. Since time runs differently in the human and fae worlds—and wherever else he might have been—It’s difficult to measure exactly how many years pass between the two stories, but to Ronan’s perception it is centuries.

And handsome Telkoram? Why yes, we will see him again.

For more about Flicker and to read an excerpt, click here.

Or simply buy it here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Setting versus Worldbuilding


March 9, 2020  •  No Comments

Consider setting versus worldbuilding. According to Novelist and screen writer Chuck Wendig, when we say worldbuilding “We’re talking about the revelation of your story world and its details through the story itself. It’s easy to think this means “setting,” but that’s way too simple — world building covers everything and anything inside that world. Money, clothing, territorial boundaries, tribal customs, building materials, imports and exports, transportation, sex, food, the various types of monkeys people possess, whether the world does or does not contain Satanic “twerking” rites.”

That means there is work to do on your story. The basic place to start is forming a clear picture of your setting. Chances are, it is a real place or it is similar to a real place that can be investigated.

Research everything.

If you’re writing about a real time and place, research the history of your setting up to the time period you’re working with. Your characters will know the history–at least the recent history–of their world, so you need to as well.

  • One question you might ask is who founded your location? Why?
  • Does that matter to your story (for instance, what would the old prime-time soap opera Dallas be without the oil industry)?
  • Think about taking your story and putting it someplace really different.  How much of it would work? What would you have to change? What does that say about your choice of time and place?

Writers with a contemporary setting need to do as much or even more research. People live in the city you’re writing about, and they’re not a homogeneous group.

  • Different parts of an existing town have different characteristics.
  • Different groups of people have different hangouts, different language, different food, dress, etc.

PRO TIP: Climate is important and often a defining characteristic of a region. However, don’t assume. Most of the world thinks of Canada as snow country. Victoria, where I live,  has palm trees and rarely more than a few days of snow a year.

Story bibles

You might want to make a story bible, which is a collection of facts, documents, ideas, and everything else about your story world. This is a lifesaver if you’re doing a series.

Here are some tools:

An article on How to use Scrivener for Worldbuilding

An article on creating an old-school series bible using a binder, pens, and stuff

An amazing customizable template from Sarah Perlmutter

The type of information you collect and how you collect it will depend entirely on your story and working methods. The only important thing is that you keep the relevant information in a way you can access quickly. Start collecting information before it becomes unwieldy. The time when I normally decide I want a story bible is long past the time when it would be convenient to start one.

Other, more entertaining ways to deal with research:

  • Youtube videos about places
  • Blogs about visiting places
  • Pinterest for pictures of places

Of course, the very best option is to visit a location. Taste the food. Smell the air. Feel the dryness or humidity, and whether the atmosphere is high and clear or soft and sea level. Look at the flowers. Fall in the mud (speaking personally). Find out what is the same and different from the place you live.

 

Photo by Sean Benesh on Unsplash

Map of Faery

Sharon Ashwood
March 6, 2020  •  2 Comments

Here is the map (beautifully done by Zenta Brice) for the Crown of Fae series:

 

Map of Faery


Why care about a story’s setting?


March 2, 2020  •  No Comments

Why care about a story’s setting?

A lot of people think of setting description as the specific surroundings where the action occurs. “There was a red camel in the corner.” “The curtains were blue lace with tiny hearts woven into the fabric.”

This is true. Most of us learn to write this stuff when we’re in grade school. We learn to use our specific and colorful words and our imaginations and once we’ve mastered that, every writing book ever tells us these passages of prose are wrong and bad. This is also true.

Setting is way more than a blob of description.

It’s also the “big picture” where the story was set:  the Wild West, the Weird West, Las Vegas in the 1930s, the Antebellum South. With that comes history, culture, and the way that society works. This is why, in my opinion, some theatre directors take a huge risk when they move Shakespeare or other stories from one time period to another. If a story is integrated into its setting, it relies on the dynamics of that world. It needs the power structure, the cultural norms, and the societal context of that world to inform it.

One reason West Side Story (Romeo and Juliet) worked as a story was because Arthur Laurents transplanted a story about an Italian gang culture in the renaissance (seriously, what were the big families in the Quattrocento but gangs?) to a modern American gang culture. There are enough common elements in terms of social mores, power structure, and all the things that make action and consequence function that the rewritten story still makes sense.  In this way, it’s the setting and all that goes with it that provides an important mechanism for story tension.

Think on a small, specific level (the curtains) and a global one (the Renaissance)

Setting can indicate past, present, or future on both a literal level (story time line) and an emotional one. The book Snow Falling on Cedars (David Guterson) very successfully uses contrasting settings to keep the past and present storylines separate and he makes the tension dance between them.  It’s a courtroom drama about the fallout from a Japanese-American internment camp. The way he uses setting to convey mood is brilliant.

Setting is the difference between a script and a movie. It’s all the information—the colour, the history, and the context—that exists around your dialogue and your plot. It’s your costume and stage sets. It often overlaps with character and motivation. It reveals theme, point of view, culture, power dynamics, and emotion.

Setting grounds the story in a time and place and can convey mind set, culture, mood, and personality. Whether your protagonist hangs out in a historic English pub or a moonshine still in the Kentucky woods says a lot about him. For this reason it can be used for situational irony. Most common are fish out of water stories like the shows Hart of Dixie or Northern Exposure. It is a useful shorthand for establishing character.

Setting is context. Consider that readers may not understand the setting of your story, even if they know the city.  Think of the difference between The Gangs of New York and Breakfast at Tiffany’s.  With a global market for readers, you especially have to explain it to them because other people from other backgrounds or cultures may have no understanding of your story world, even if it is set in modern times.