Character spotlight: Falconer and Sersi

His real name is Dar Macabon and he lived on the planet Chyssia as leader of the royal guard for many years. Then his team was framed for the murder of the king and they were forced to flee to protect their infant princess. Because Chyssia is where the game of Chess really originated, they were called chessmen without a king and the name stuck. They became the Chessmen, fighting to go back home.

Dar earned the name of Falconer when he rescued an injured red falcon in the mountains. But this was no ordinary bird. Her name is Sersi, a mystical falcon and very rare. Being highly intelligent and capable of speech were only the beginning with her. Sersi is an amateur spell caster and getting stronger every year. For the sake of her team she specializes in healing magics, but her combat prowess is nothing to dismiss. Her power dive comes with a peal of thunder and red lightning. She can fell a thick tree with one pass.

Dar has power over the elements and weather. He can generate storms and manipulate elements in any form. He can make earth churn like water and shape fire into anything  he can think of. He can generate micro winds for shoving people out of they way or full force hurricanes. In a major fight he prefers lightning but is highly practiced in every angle of his abilities.

When it comes to his team, Dar is deeply concerned with their innocence and the effects of being forced away from home. His leadership is firm yet caring and conscientious. Sersi is in love with him but keeps that fact well hidden, hoping to one day change form to a humanoid woman for him. Together they inspire a team loyalty that surpasses most similar hero teams.

Dar's most notable drawback is his personal guilt over what happened to his team and the situation they are in.  He feels he should have seen the whole thing coming and no one, not even Sersi, can convince him otherwise. (Avoiding spoilers, you'll just have to read Chessmen to find out.) Dar also prefers to avoid combat if possible, but he isn't afraid to deal punishment to anyone who earns it.

Falconer and Sersi in combat are a fearsome force to behold. If he doesn't have to worry about his teammates, he and Sersi can clear a battlefield of minor threats in seconds. He can obliterate heavy artillery and possibly even throw it into orbit. Both of them can fly in space with assistance of Sersi's magic and Falconer's ability to carry an aura of sustainable atmosphere with him. He can channel lightning in space, but the lack of other elements restricts his abilities.

Their dedication to the princess is stronger than any known bond and they protect her with their lives. The only thing more powerful is the drive to take her and the team back home.

Diversity in writing done right

You want your work to be accepted by as many people as possible. You decide that you want diversity in your work. Well, my friend, there is a right and wrong way to do that and we're going to give some examples today.

First of all, what does diversity in creative works mean? It means that you have a healthy variation of cultures represented in your work. This includes ethnicity, religion, and yes, sexual orientation. While diversity and being inclusive are important, going too far can get you labeled as an SJW and cloud the story. Let's use some live examples while realizing that opinions will vary.

During Capaldi's run in Doctor Who, there was a companion named Bill. Bill was gay. I feel comfortable saying 'was' because she was turned into a Cyberman and eventually killed. Uh oh, spoiler warning? Too late. There is nothing wrong with Bill being a gay woman or lesbian if preferred.  The problem was that Bill felt the need to announce this fact in practically every other episode to the point of boring it into the viewer's skull. What's wrong with that, you ask? Well, what is Doctor Who about? Is it adventures through time and space or being gay through time and space?

Now let me give you an alternate view. There is another show (okay okay, spoiler warning) called The Rookie. It's a show about becoming a police officer staring Nathan Fillion as the 'main rookie' though he has two cohorts with him. One of them is Officer Jackson West. During the Valentine's day episode he asks a male nurse out on a date. Through the series we saw several times that Jackson referred to problems with his mother over him being a cop. While you could entertain suspicion, it was never a flagrant and in your face issue. When it finally comes to be, it's casual and basically just like it would happen for any straight person. You don't feel like 'gay' is being shoved down your throat. See the difference. Now we will see more of Jackson's relationship, I'm sure, but presenting them as people rather than a label will always be more successful with your audience.

Another well written example is in the show 911. Hen Wilson is a married gay woman with a child. It never needs to be explained because if you can't tell that Hen is gay by the time her wife is introduced, it's on you. Thanks to letting the characters simply be the people they are, no one ever has to make a big character point of waving a flag and going "SEE THIS CHARACTER IS GAY" which is really poor writing to do so.

This goes the same with any form of culture you are including in your story. If you story is all about how to live in that culture, then that's great. Otherwise remember to keep to what your story is about. Let your character show who and what they are rather than waving the flag.

Please keep in mind that I only use being gay as an example here. Thank you.

One of my main characters in my hero works is from Egypt. That alone suggests that he may be Muslim. I leave that for the reader to decide (but he is Muslim). He has the likeness and powers of the god, Anubis but his human half still has feelings, concerns, and culture. It's not easy to mix that in to a story with multiple characters, but I definitely want him to be seen as a person, not a culture.

Thanks for reading and keep writing!

No Trespassing (Blog fiction)

The great fan of the air boat roared in their ears as they sped across the waters of southern Louisiana. They held their guns ready for anything in their path on the way to the meetup. The buyer wanted sufficient tree cover in the swamp for the purchase. Lemmy didn’t like the idea but he had drugs to sell. A buyer’s eccentricity could be tolerated most of the time. The coordinates led to an arrangement of shacks on stilts over the water. No one lived in them. They were entirely for deals like this. They were meant to look like some swamp person’s little hideaway. Something people in those parts left alone on general principle.

“There. There they are. Pull right up to them.” Lemmy said to his pilot. He adjusted his tie and tapped a finger on his machine gun strapped over his shoulder. Two more boats of Lemmy’s boys followed them in.

Booker and his guys were in row boats and pirogues. They came out of a part of the swamps you couldn’t take an airboat through. He preferred using thick trees to cover his exploits and knew he was tough to follow. He smiled revealing gaps from missing teeth and the sun shined on his bald head. Lemmy and his boys were suits and ties. Booker’s were scrap shirts and jeans. Lemmy liked machine guns while Booker’s guys carried rifles and shot guns.

Lemmy gave a friendly salute as his boat came nose to nose with Booker’s.

“You think you could pick and uglier place to meet?” Lemmy joked.

“What? You don’t like the greenery?” Booker gestured in a wide sweep of his arms. “This is home. Don’t talk bad about my home now.”

“Take it easy. I’m just busting your balls. I got your order here. Two waterproof plastic crates of white gold, just like you asked.”

“Excellent. We have your money the same way.”

A loud and low growling sound echoed through the shacks and across the water. All the men did double-takes of their environment to see what did it. They saw nothing.

“What the hell was that?” Lemmy said.

“Probably just the rugaroo. Legends around these parts say there’s a monster. Oooooo. Ha. I don worry bout it none. It’s not real.” Booker laughed.

That’s when a shack exploded off its stilts and flew over their heads with a savage snapping of wood pillars. Lemmy dropped to his knees while two of his men went into the water. Booker fell off his boat with a splash. The beast in the shack’s place stood 14 feet tall and nearly as wide. It had the head of the biggest alligator you could dream of and stegosaurus plates reached up from its back. Gator hated evil in his swamp. The legends were true.

Gator had been watching Booker and his men. He knew these men were up to no good and in his swamp to boot. Ever since evil men used science to make him into a monster, he patrolled his swamp. Not even littering college students escaped his wrath. But he only scared those. These men needed more convincing. Gator was happy to oblige. With a whip of his thick powerful tail, he turned the shack he hid behind into a flying arrangement of kindling.

Men yelled in terror at the sight of him and opened fire in panic. It didn’t matter what kind of guns they had, the bullets were worth less than falling acorns. Gator let out a roar that rippled the water and pushed boats away. Then he charged into their midst. He snatched a rowboat out of the water with one enormous hand, flinging its occupants into the air. He threw that boat at one of the air boats, smashing both to bits. More men were thrown into the drink. Two were severely injured.

Gator didn’t want to kill anyone. He did want to make sure he left a lasting impression on these men to never come here again. Another whip of his tail capsized every one of Booker’s remaining boats with a powerful splash and wave of swamp water. Another stilted shack collapsed into so much driftwood garbage. In moments, only Lemmy remained on his boat and all others were trashed. Booker stood up in the water choking for breath.

Gator grabbed Booker up out of the water and put him on the airboat next to Lemmy. He took up both plastic containers of drugs in one huge hand and showed them to the men. Gator cocked his arm back like a professional baseball pitcher and threw the two containers out toward the Gulf of Mexico. The two shocked men watched as over a million dollars in cocaine flew out of sight into the distance.

Gator turned back to the men and roared in their faces as they screamed like children. Lemmy felt himself defecate.

Gator left them with one word before turning and lumbering away.

“GO.”

Before disappearing into the trees, Gator picked up some wreckage and threw it at the last standing shack, reducing it to splinters.

Now they knew the legends were true. Word still got around. It’s his swamp. No trespassing.