16. Do you have structured ideas of how your story is supposed to go, or make it up as you write?
A little of both. I usually have an idea where I want things to go generally, and the details in between where I start and where it goes tend to be made up as I go. Sometimes involving the story sprouting subplots and side stories that I’m not expecting or intending.
20. 4 sentences from your work that you’re proud of
(Ok, so this is a few more than four sentences. Four sets of lines, more like. Because the best bits are better in context than not.)
“My loyalty is still to my captain. I will do what I must to see that he is not perceived as a failure to the rest of the Peacekeepers. Even if that costs me my reputation and my life in the end.” – Lieutenant Teeg to Captain Crais; Teeg’s Choice, Chapter Two: Present
So the news of the day becomes stories of the past, stories become legends, legends become myths. The world changes and grows and reaches for the stars, brilliant and blazing defiance of the old order. And if somewhere in those who work to that end, there are heroes and villians vying against each other, who can say? For the world knows the gods are real, no better or worse than the rest of humanity, save they live beyond the span of mortal years. – So All Passed Into Myth, and the Gods Walk Among Us; Story 30/30 of Lies, Misdirection, and Terrible Truth
“The next time I think to take up a dwarrow on the offer of an adventure to fetch his wayward war-master home, I’ll think twice on the offer and refuse.” Ráva doesn’t even bother to open his eyes, leaning against a boulder that had been his shield a couple of times in the battle he’d not intended to walk into. At least he’d come out the other side still in one piece, and Vorkha wouldn’t have to explain to his brother just how four thousand years of life had been ended by a wayward band of orcs.
Well. A wayward army of orcs.
– the beginning of Burning Bright, Chapter One: To Weather the Storm
These are the children of the seiðmaðr who was oath-brother to the rúnatýr. These are the ones bound in the blood of the Valföðr, who walks undying upon Midgard with raven-hair bound with feathers. These are the instruments of Ragnarøkkr, the deaths of the gods and the remaking of the world.
So listen, all you who hear me, and heed.
– the end of Valföðr, a Highlander story written for hlh_shortcuts in 2013