Characters: Demure, Sinister or Somewhere in Between?

So, after my formal and obviously charming introduction, let's get this thing kicked off. What things are important in a book to the reader? Romance? Magic? Realism? Action? Location? Many things are necessary to enrapture a reader and keep them reading. I know, myself, am a picky one. I like to be whisked off my feet from the very beginning and not set down until the very end. What does this most is a great and intricate leading character!

After reading book upon book of good intention-ed, innocent, and unknowing fantasy protagonists finding power and learning to deal with it, I began to get bored. Yes, we all love an underdog but what about the character that isn't innocent? Hasn't seen goodness? And has already wielded power? What of them?

I found myself intrigued by a person who thought themselves too far gone to be redeemed. A bad guy that felt trapped without release isn't something that is usually a leading character.

With every sinister character, I believe there must be a reason for their direction. I often find myself infatuated with their history. Why? Why did they do those things? What made them the way they were? Was it really just because they 'felt like it'? We think 'well, it's 'cause they're bad, duh'. But I wonder, were they not always?

Have you ever seen that horror spoof with the guys and their dream cabin out in the woods? Tucker & Dale vs. Evil. They were misunderstood as creepy backwoods killers -as in all the typical horror movies- but what was actually happening was all accidents- not them trying to kill a bunch of teens at all! Just some men in the wrong place at the wrong time.

So, let's think about it... Why did Davy Jones torment and antagonize people in Pirates of the Caribbean? Bitter, unrequited love. Why was Heathcliff mean and murderous? Bitter, unrequited love. (I'm seeing a trend here.) Why did Anakin turn into Darth Vader? To save the woman he loved- well, to try and save her.

I think one of my favorite people -someone who had a dark past- is Paul in the Bible- or formerly known as Saul the persecutor. A strict and stern man, Saul persecuted those who worshiped the Lord. But as he was walking to Damascus one day, he met God. And then his whole world changed... What possibilities arise when given the chance!

There are a myriad of unexplored options set within an antagonists development that are just waiting to be set free. What could possibly transpire?

          

     Aleksandr gasped as the dashing beauty twisted the knife in Crimson’s back. The man cringed in pain and fell to his knees.
     Then she turned away from her brother and slowly sauntered over to Aleks. Her eyes swept over him, her lips pulled into a snarl. She sighed heavily.
     “Don’t move; it’ll only worsen the pain,” she said in a delicate tone much unlike her cold face.
     She looked like a goddess, the streetlights illuminating her pale flesh. Her eyes of deep emerald glowed metallically as her dark auburn hair wrapped around her face and shoulders. She was like a fierce dragon as she knelt down beside him. So cunning, beautiful and full of fire.
     Her piercing green eyes glowered into his as Aleks peered up at her and his lips formed the words ‘okay’.
     She picked up his hand and said, “Close your eyes. Let your mind relax- think only of me.”
     Aleksandr did as he was told while she repositioned his ruined ankles. He listened to the stream of incomprehensible words flowing from her lips, echoing throughout his head. In his mind he saw them flash in cursive gold letters, fading in and out.
     Suddenly an enormous light flared before his eyes. His eyes turned crystal blue as they reopened and his stomach tugged upwards. At first he thought she was trying to kill him. His head fell backwards in agony as his ankle bones twisted and came together to become one again. A distorted feeling transpired inside him, mingling in his veins, as the blood rushed back. He collapsed on the ground.
     Aleksandr’s breath grew steady as the pain subsided and left his legs. He sat up. He turned and looked, watching as Crimson staggered up. The girl that had just moments ago been beside him was now at Crimson’s side. She removed the dagger from his back and wiped the blade off on her skirt.
Her emotionless gaze slid to Aleks. She pointed in his direction before she growled, “He is mine.”
     “And you,” she snapped at Aleksandr. “This is not over. You will see me again.”
     Her teeth flashed beneath her smile as her hand flew out. The dagger flew straight at him. He knew it was going to hit him at any moment. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain.
     He waited, but the pain never came. Slowly, he opened his left eye, afraid of what he might see.
     The street was deserted except for him. Crimson and the girl who was supposedly his sister had disappeared. No blood or any evidence at all was left at the scene except the dagger. It wobbled in a crevice beside him. A half an inch and she would have struck him. But she had missed. Or had she?
     Aleks leaned over, picked the dagger up and pushed himself to his feet. He studied the handle that had a rose carved on it and a dragon entwined around it. There was an inscription carved in cursive on the side of the shiny, silver blade with touches of Crimson‘s blood on it:
     Mara.

NIMBUS, M. Rose

Fantasy or Insanity? Is there a difference?

Well, today I decided to start blogging. Why? Because I’m suicidal? Hardly. Crazy? Getting warmer. Completely and infatuated with humiliating myself in front of MILLIONS… or more likely two people? Bingo!

Just a short time ago –like 12 years- when I was just a young, wee lass, I picked up a bad habit called “writing”. My imagination took the reins and ever since, I haven’t been quite right. You know the symptoms: spacey, glass-eyed, acting like has a 'stealth mode' or +2 on sneak, and -most importantly- alternate personalities that flip between moods and accents. Perhaps, I’ve never been quite right and my momma never did have me tested… But who enjoys normal anymore anyway? That's why we READ in the first place.  

So, after a little meddling and dabbling and a whole lot of imagining and checking the mailbox, awaiting for the day when my invitation to Hogwarts would arrive…

… I began to draw up my own concoctions of how every day life should be. You know, the usual cooking, cleaning, school, dragons, telekinesis and -of course- the underdog. Normal, mundane activities of daily living. And after my eleventh birthday, when I realized that apparently, I was just a 'muggle' and Hagrid would not be appearing on my doorstep with a wand-umbrella and a flying motorcycle, my own story took shape.

What shape did it take exactly? Well, when I look at it on paper, I feel it kind of looks like a tortuous blob. Something not fully formed, more a work in progress, but a whole lot of potential just waiting for me to roll my sleeves up, get my hands dirty, and mold it into something fantastic!

Will this prospective blob take shape into something beautiful like a butterfly? Surely, it could. Perhaps after it has gone through the gross and furry stages of metamorphosis like a bulbous, gooey caterpillar, it will blossom into a jam-packed entertainer where there will be weeping and cheering of all sorts! (Please, do hold the standing ovations until after the show). There, in that warm, dark and cozy cocoon of worm-hood does my journey begin.

While like a magic carpet ride, it may be bumpy with risk of injury or perhaps even death, I still ask you to join me and assist me on this grandeur and yet vulnerable and humbling adventure, for as Paul states, 'when I am weak, I am strong'. I assure you ahead of time that it is full of magic, Greek gods, butt kicking, romance -duh- and a whole lot of sarcasm.

Although, I’m sure you couldn’t guess that it would include that last bit…