The Journey of SILVER BROWN

On Characters That Speak No Recognizable Human Language

In many a blog post of yesterweek, I’ve mentioned Act One of SILVER BROWN is pretty much complete. I’m not ruling out the possibility that it still might undergo a few more nips, tucks and organ transplants, but at least it’s at a point where I’m more or less satisfied with it. Acts Two and Three are both in an early-to-intermediate stage of their development. Like literary vestigial limbs. They will surely evolve into glorious eldritch tentacles dripping with digestive sucker juices and territorial musk, but for now they’re just stumps. Act Two is a little bit more than a stump, though. It’s the one I’m presently editing.

These chapters have something of a different feel to them compared to Act One. Act One details a critical moment in Florys MacNab’s career as a witch, and most of the supporting characters are other witches. Act Two sees Florys venture out into worlds beyond the Sisterhood to learn a host of horrifying cryptic truths her Lodge has hitherto kept from her. The supporting cast has almost completely changed. Characters that were only mentioned in passing or casually alluded to in Act One become much more prominent in Act Two. This blog post will focus on one of those characters in particular. Kent Fairholt’s trusty sidekick, the utility program Sherman dot Quebec Lima niner.


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This is an approximation of what Sherman looks like, although it might not be an actual picture of him.

It was established from the earliest drafts that Sherman can and does speak. His function within the narrative is as a voice of reason. A foil and counterpart for Kent Fairholt, frequently correcting him when he’s wrong. Kent’s conscience, personified. Or more accurately, mustelified. When Sherman speaks, Kent is the only human who can understand him. To Florys and other humans, Sherman’s utterances just sound like a series of clucks, squawks and chirrups. Hence, Sherman’s brainy sayings (at least the ones relevant to the plot) must necessarily be translated and interpreted for Florys (and ultimately the audience) by his significantly less brainy friend. The results may vary.

Throughout the editing process, I experimented with several different approaches trying to find the best way to represent Sherman’s utterances in the text. The earlier stages of the book’s evolution would feature Florys including phrases like “the ferret clucked and squawked” or “the ferret clucked and squawked some more” in her narration of the story (she seldom refers to Sherman by name, mostly out of disdain for Kent). The result was that Sherman came across like a one-dimensional character, saying the same old shit over and over again. After about the fifth time the ferret clucked and squawked, he started to get on my nerves. So in order to make him less Jar Jar Binksy, I found it necessary to expand his vocabulary a bit. That, and to present more of his lines of dialogue in an onomatopoeic manner as opposed to giving verbal descriptions of his utterances – a cue I probably took from the fight scenes in that old Batman series from the Sixties starring the late great Adam West…



His vocabulary would be expanded further still when Our Lady of 420 whispered in my ear one morning and casually suggested that he ought to be equipped with a vast internal library of sound effects. An idea completely compatible with the nature of the character and the premise of the book.

Sherman looks like a ferret and is frequently referred to as such by Florys, but beyond superficial appearances there is nothing ferrety about him. He’s actually a musteline utility program running within the Environment. An artificial intelligence, in other words. Like a walking Siri with fur. Hence, having a library of sound effects tucked away somewhere in his brain wouldn’t disrupt the suspension of disbelief too much. The sound effects come into play when Sherman is trying to accentuate a point he’s trying to make to Kent, using them almost like auditory emojis. Any selections from the library that take more than one word to convey are given in parentheses in the text. I think I recall J.K. Rowling using a similar technique a few times in the Harry Potter series, although I couldn’t tell you off the top of my head specifically in which chapters of which books.


Squawk! Roar, meow. Bark! (Screech of an eagle). Chirrup, cluck-cluck (something that vaguely sounded like a dump truck backing up). Coo, squeak.

– Sherman dot Quebec Lima niner

 

The Journey of SILVER BROWN

Sweet N’ Sour Sixteen

J.K. Rowling once said in an interview something to the effect of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire being a particularly agonizing book for her to write. One of its chapters had to be rewritten a whopping thirteen times; there was a recurring plot hole that needed a baker’s dozen attempts to get rid of. Chapter Sixteen of SILVER BROWN didn’t have to go through that many rewrites, but it was pretty agonizing. For starters, it’s now Chapter Seventeen; I had to chop off its head and make the head Sixteen. The editing work this chapter and its severed head needed had more to do with cutting away superfluous elements and finding balance in the story than resolving any plot holes, though. But at long last, these chapters are complete. I might do a few more tweaks here and there to make Crocus Acadia even more unnerving than she already is, but all the main organs are functioning at least. They could survive if they hatched tomorrow. But they won’t hatch just yet. Maybe during Yuletide.

A couple of the characters I’ll be introducing to the audience at this point in the story had to undergo a few nips and tucks during the overall editing process, most notably Crocus Acadia. In the earlier drafts, she was a character clearly in the antagonistic category, one that was always quick to throw the book at Florys for every perceived transgression against the Lodge. Now she’s more of an Osiris-like entity. Not necessarily a villain. Attentively listening to all sides of an argument with equal impartiality before issuing a judgement upon a mortal soul, but never hesitant to fling you like a booger into the waiting sulfuric maw of a ravenous demon if your beating heart should tip the scales unfavourably against the feather of truth. She also sits upon a throne composed of fire – an idea which didn’t exist in the earlier drafts. Fire doesn’t hurt her. She’s a witch. A learned and experienced witch at that. You don’t get to be Vizier-Queen of any Lodge without being learned and experienced.


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The Bullhorn of SILVER BROWN

Kent Fairholt Has Hatched!

As is my usual custom whenever there’s a solstice or equinox, I have published a brand-spankin’ new edition of the Silver Brown e-book. Only one new chapter is included with this version, but what a chapter it is. It has a total of five segments, and is the first of three nonconsecutive chapters in the book to be narrated by some guy named Kent Fairholt. An ancient character who I first devised around 2011. Within the context of Silver Brown, he’s the white rabbit who leads Florys down the rabbit hole. Except he’s not a rabbit. He’s a guy. A cross between my brother and an old friend of mine who I lost contact with about ten years ago, with bits and pieces of various shady guys I’ve met in bars over the years. At least that’s who he was when I first created him. He’s still that guy, more or less. Currently rides a motorscooter, with a sassy talking ferret for a sidekick. A ferret who isn’t actually a ferret.


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“Click on me and I’ll smack you…”