Admittedly, I'm not sure where this one is intended to go.
I can think of two ways to interpret it. One is to assume an implied "yet", that is to say, a scene I intend to write but haven't got around to writing. The other is in more of a cutting room floor sort of way...the scene spent some time in development but never formed enough to make it into the first draft.
I've got to answer to the first interpretation, because, frankly I'm not known - well, at all really - for anyone to be interested in reading about the scenes I didn't feel were worthy of making an initial draft. Perhaps sometime, if I ever get lucky enough to have a tenth (our more) anniversary edition of one of my works, I can include that kind of stuff. For the time being, though, I'm not nearly that pretentious.
That means I get to tell you about a scene I've thought about but haven't put into words yet. Fortunately I have a few of those handy thanks to outlines for sequels to the two books I'm working on. The trick is for me to find a scene that might be interesting without giving too much away.
In my fantasy novel there's a boy. Of course there's a boy. This boy even becomes godlike in power, and the story is essentially about his rise from humble origins to dizzying heights of power. In my defense, he's not the main character (an homage to The Malloreon), and the story isn't as much about him as it is about the things that happen to those around him.
As an aside, I like to think of the main character as the love child of Aragorn and Indiana Jones.
The thing about the kid is that he's blind, and not an orphan, but an outcast, nonetheless. The protagonist ends up becoming the kid's protector, and the wizened elder in their entourage teaches the youngling the ways of magic. Naturally, the elder senses a great deal of latent ability. He has it in his mind that the kid, through the power of magic, might one day regain his sight or be gifted with some kind of mystical facsimile thereof.
The scene I'm envisioning is of the two together, perhaps with the protagonist (I'll have to think about the potential symbolism of humanity in its three stages of life), perhaps not. The youngster has come a long way in developing his abilities and has known for some time that his mentor's wish cannot come true. Hopefully the scene has a good emotional impact, with the mentor accepting that his vision (no pun intended) is not possible and the child coming to realize his own unique strengths.
I can think of two ways to interpret it. One is to assume an implied "yet", that is to say, a scene I intend to write but haven't got around to writing. The other is in more of a cutting room floor sort of way...the scene spent some time in development but never formed enough to make it into the first draft.
I've got to answer to the first interpretation, because, frankly I'm not known - well, at all really - for anyone to be interested in reading about the scenes I didn't feel were worthy of making an initial draft. Perhaps sometime, if I ever get lucky enough to have a tenth (our more) anniversary edition of one of my works, I can include that kind of stuff. For the time being, though, I'm not nearly that pretentious.
That means I get to tell you about a scene I've thought about but haven't put into words yet. Fortunately I have a few of those handy thanks to outlines for sequels to the two books I'm working on. The trick is for me to find a scene that might be interesting without giving too much away.
In my fantasy novel there's a boy. Of course there's a boy. This boy even becomes godlike in power, and the story is essentially about his rise from humble origins to dizzying heights of power. In my defense, he's not the main character (an homage to The Malloreon), and the story isn't as much about him as it is about the things that happen to those around him.
As an aside, I like to think of the main character as the love child of Aragorn and Indiana Jones.
The thing about the kid is that he's blind, and not an orphan, but an outcast, nonetheless. The protagonist ends up becoming the kid's protector, and the wizened elder in their entourage teaches the youngling the ways of magic. Naturally, the elder senses a great deal of latent ability. He has it in his mind that the kid, through the power of magic, might one day regain his sight or be gifted with some kind of mystical facsimile thereof.
The scene I'm envisioning is of the two together, perhaps with the protagonist (I'll have to think about the potential symbolism of humanity in its three stages of life), perhaps not. The youngster has come a long way in developing his abilities and has known for some time that his mentor's wish cannot come true. Hopefully the scene has a good emotional impact, with the mentor accepting that his vision (no pun intended) is not possible and the child coming to realize his own unique strengths.
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