Elfshot — Or Pounding My Head Against the Wall

I’ve been trying to work on Elfshot, and I’ve learned one thing. You know what’s great about pounding your head against the wall? Stopping.

No, seriously.

A Type of Writer’s Block and How I Got Through It

It took a few days and a conversation with my spouse before I realized that I needed another twist in the story. So, I forced myself into the chair in front of my computer and found out what happened next. Elfshot is actually a complex story, which means it needs me to think about it a lot.

What’s Happening in the Ironspell Chronicles

Surprisingly our hero, Bob Ironspell-Cabas got stuck in the world of the Dark Elves thanks to a goddess. She gave him a mission to eliminate the enemy’s weapons.

Only enemies aren’t necessarily the bad guys. Oh, some are, but some aren’t, and it’s starting to sink in that there are shades of gray (not the S&M book by that name) and not necessarily good guys and bad guys. There are good guys. There are bad guys. But not everything is clear cut in this series, which leads me to some fun places to go.

OMG I Didn’t Outline!

One problem I’m having with Elfshot is that I’ve been working off of an incomplete outline. This is coupled with the fact I veered off the last part of the outline. Ah well. The writing will surprise me as well as it unfolds.

A Preview of What I Wrote Today for Elfshot

I thought I’d give you a snippet of what I wrote so you might enjoy:

I followed her down several tunnels until we came to a corridor with several doors down it. It was surprisingly well lit with mage lights and what appeared to be florescent fungi and moss along the walls, casting the tunnel in an eerie blue-green glow. The Drow fashioned the doors out of stone, much to my surprise. We took the third door on the left and it swung open with just a touch, like the door at the entrance to the caverns. She led me into a room, which I discovered was a living room with an upholstered couch, stone table, and several wooden chairs.

To my surprise, cool, fresh air circulated throughout the room. I could see a much younger female Drow in what appeared to be the kitchen, complete with a hearth and wooden shelves, as well as two boys that looked equivalent to human children ages five and eight.

“Li’alla, we have company!” The elder Elf called to the woman.

Li’alla turned and looked at me. Too skinny to be pretty, she met my eyes with her gaunt gaze. “Oh, Nana, what have you brought?”

“Nana! Nana!” the two boys shouted as they ran out of the kitchen.

Nana smiled and bent down for a hug. “How are my two rapscallions doing? Have you been minding your mother?”

“Yes, Nana.” The children spoke in unison and I tried to hide a grin. Children were alike all over, no matter how different they were.

Li’alla wiped her hands on a worn dishtowel before coming out. “And who did you bring us?”

“Li’alla, I want you to meet Ironspell. Ironspell, this is one of my granddaughters, Li’alla.”

Li’alla looked horrified. “Oh Nana! What foolish thing have you done?”

“Which one? There are so many.” Nana winked at me.