12.  Which is easier to write: original fiction or fanfiction?

Well I’ve never tried to write original fiction (okay I did one 500 word short story) so I’m guessing fanfiction is in a way easier, just because you already have a base (the characters) and you don’t actually have to come up with them yourself. It’s still pretty difficult though :D

Thank you!

Iguess I have to decide what I want to call my current project. We’llgo with Letterof Marque, sinceI’m still editing and too fickle to really get into a new WIP for abit.

FIRST — thefirst two sentences of my current project

For’ard

Ifthe Adalaine’sPromisecould talk, it would only tell one story. In 1590 she wascommissioned by a retired naval sailor looking for the promise ofriches, built by Spanish craftsmen, and sailed to London where shespent her first two years dawdling around English ports.

Yes,I started my 1590’s privateering novel using for'ard instead of prologue, because@thebibliosphere inspired me to be more punny. Sue me.

POV— something that’s already happened, retold from anothercharacter’s perspective

So,here is Eztli learning how to fight with a sword, taught by the firstmate and Vincent’s bff, William Archer. Originally this is told fromthird person limited, focused in Eztli’s head. We’ll get intoWilliam’s head this time. I actually had a lot of fun writing this scene initially, because it brought me back to my fencing and stage combat days. This isn’t much of a change in scene, so much as showing that William knew what was going on between Vincent and Eztli before even they did.

“Whydo you have these on board, anyway?” Eztli asked, walking besideWilliam with two wooden practice swords tucked under one arm. Shehanded one off to him when they found a clear space on deck, and setdown the other to tie her hair back from her face.

“Manyof the younger crewmen need the practice as well.” He indicated afew boys no older than ten that were carting buckets of water to helpscrub the deck, but he watched her. A week since the officer’sdinner, and he couldn’t help but be impressed both by her confidence,and the ease to which the men took to her. When she first came onboard, they taught her out of politeness, not wanting a woman finallytasting freedom to feel like a pariah. Now, she already felt like apart of the crew, despite stowing away to get here. “As the boysgrow,” he went on, “they need to practice with their new extendedreach, and it keeps them busy anyway. Aside from our last battle,have you ever used a sword?”

Sheshrugged. “Not really.” She picked up the wooden baton again,glancing up to where Vincent was watching them from the upper deck.“Do you like working for him?”

“CaptainLockton?” William clarified, testing the balance of the baton inone hand. A bit of a clunky thing, but it would do. That look she wasgiving Vincent? He wasn’t so sure that would work as well. “I do.He is a fair Captain, and an intelligent man. Pay attention to me,now. We’re going to start slow, and I’m going to show you how toparry blows first, okay? Any fool can stick a blade into anotherman—it’s not dying in the process that’s the hard part. Here,hold your sword like this, as if you’ve just drawn it from yourbelt. This is first position.”

Shefollowed instructions, but kept glancing up towards the Captain.William debating on knocking the sword into her head. “But how ishe compared to other men?”

Hehit her baton slowly, before reaching up to steady her wrist. “Holdit firmly, or a parry will do no more than slow the other persondown. You want to block it completely. Keep your wrist stiff but yourelbow and shoulder loose, that’ll cushion the blow. There, justlike that. What other men are you comparing him to?”

Sheshrugged loosely, parrying his swing as she had been taught. “Idon’t know. He’s just not quite like the Spaniards I had known.”

“Well,I should hope not,” he chuckled, taking her arm and moving itacross her body. Vincent would be pleased to hear he wasn’t like oneof the bloodthirsty Catholics. He tried again to redirect her back tothe lesson. “Keep your sword’s tip down towards the deck likethat, and bend your wrist slightly—there. That’s second position,if a sword swings at you this way.” He tapped their batons togetheragain to indicate the swing, watching her face. “You have tounderstand too, Miss Eztli, the Spaniards are here for a verydifferent reason than we are. That’s probably part of the reasonwhy we seem different.”

“He seems different thaneven the other men,” she defended, blocking his swing again.

“Good.Go back to first position.” He adjusted her arm again, to get herfocus if nothing else. “I’m going to swing at you fromalternating directions, and I want you to block it with these twoparries. What difference do you see between him and the other menhere?”

Eztlididn’t answer right away, watching his wrist to anticipate hisstrikes, but then her eyes flicked up to Vincent again. “He is morepleasant. Not in demeanor—though he’s not unpleasant there.He’s…” She trailed off a minute. “He’s pleasing to the eye,and I don’t often find men from across the ocean to be so.”

Williamlaughed. Oh, Lord, was that what her gawking was about? “Well, MissEztli, I cannot help you on that decision. But he is a handsome man.He is also a married man.” He opened his mouth to say more on thematter, then thought better of it. She didn’t need to know the nightsVincent had confided in him when they talked of home, of coldshoulders and cold beds. He couldn’t do much to reassure his friend’sdoubts—it wasn’t as if he had a wife at home to compare to. Maybeit was just London women. “Now, from second position, move the tipof your sword so that it is facing the sky, but don’t move yourarm. Just rotate your wrist like that. This is third position. If yousweep your arm across your body, that’s fourth position. So asyou’re moving your sword out from your belt, it’s point-down,one, two, then point up, three, four.” He demonstrated as he spoke.“If your opponent is striking underhanded, use positions one ortwo. If the blows come higher, three or four. Ready? I am going toattack you.”

Sheparried a few blows, looking past him to where the Captain now spokewith another officer. Vincent kept glancing her way, though maybe notonly to watch her progress. “Are you married, Mr. Archer?”

“No, ma’am,” Archerassured mildly. It seemed the question was more polite than anything,or maybe she was trying to distract him from her wandering gaze.“Loosen your shoulder a touch, take the blow but don’t let thesword come any closer to you.” He took hold of her upper arm todemonstrate, shaking her shoulder lightly. “If you need to, moveyour feet to take some of the force. Ready? Here I come again.”

“DoesVincent have any children?”

“Twodaughters.” He struck at her more quickly, but she blocked everyblow despite her inattention, each one producing a dull ringing echo.“The Captain doesn’t much appreciate people taking such interestin his personal life, Eztli. It’s impolite to ask such questions,especially to me and not to him.”

“I’m just trying tounderstand him. Why do none of the men bring their families here?”

William stepped forwardagain. “Raise your arm over your head like this, so that your swordis angled to protect from overhead blows. Tip up—that way the bladewill slide down towards the hilt when it strikes you, and not yourhead. I’ve seen men get quite the gashes for that mistake. This isfifth position.” It seemed both trying to redirect back to thelesson and outright telling her it was impolite wasn’t worth theeffort. He couldn’t exactly blame her; in her position, he’d likelybe just as curious. “Most of the men don’t bring their familiesover because it is costly, and dangerous. The ship ride over isdangerous, and the lands here are even more so. Until England has aproper city civilized and staked claim that none will challenge, Idoubt many of us will risk our women and children the journey. Thoughperhaps in a few years, that will change. We are harassing theSpanish far more vehemently than we first expected when we came here,and I imagine there is much pressure on them back home as well.”

“Willyou all ever go back home?” she asked as he switched up his attacksto have her practice all the parries.

“Eventually, yes. If ourletter of marque is ever rescinded, then we will go home immediately,I imagine. Otherwise, we will likely stay out here a few more years,then return home to retire.” Home. As if there was any home for himother than this ship, these lands and everything that wasn’t England.He stepped back a pace, and swung his sword in a tight circle, beforetaking a loose fighting stance. “Are you ready? I’m going to comeat your harder now.”

“I am ready.” The firstblow left her fingers tingling, and she smiled, bending her knees tohelp take the force, shifting one foot slightly behind her. “So youwill do what? Spend a few years chasing ships across the Caribbeanand longing for home? Seems a lonely and listless life.”

“I wouldn’t call iteither of those things on a ship full of men and a new adventure atevery horizon,” William assured, striking from different angles atevery swing. As their tempo increased, a few of the men workingnearby stopped to watch. “There are days I wish for England, butthis ship is my home, and this is the life I chose willingly. Iwouldn’t change it.”

She parried a blow, thenswung back at him, catching him by surprise and nearly striking hisarm before he danced to one side. “I don’t think I can changemuch in my life now,” she said, circling him as he began to movefree-form. “But I want to stay on this ship, with all of you.”

“Then you shall, ifthat’s what you want,” William agreed. The Captain agreed to takeher on as crew, so she was family. Short of mutiny, no man was turnedaway before the mast. It wouldn’t be the first woman to serve on aship, but maybe the first one like this.

All words vanished in favorof a quick-paced spar. Soon, a loose circle of men had formed aroundthem, cheers and calls coming from the sailors. They only stoppedwhen a blow finally hit flesh, Eztli stumbling back winded from astrike on the side.

“Very well done!”Archer praised, catching his own breath and lowering his sword.“You’ll be besting the seasoned sailors in no time.”

“I am more concerned withbesting the Spanish.”

“Well,” he chuckled,“they are not the best sailors and swordsmen, so I don’t thinkyou have to worry too much about that. What do you think, gentlemen?”he asked, turning to the sailors around them at last.

“I think,” Vincent putin before any of the other men could speak, descending from the upperdeck, “that I see a lot of men not completing their work.”

The sailors scatteredquickly, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Vincent joined hisfirst mate and Eztli.

“She is making excellentprogress, sir,” William assured, not missing a smile hiding at thecorner of Vincent’s lips. The expression was one he was familiar withseeing on his Captain, trying to maintain a stern presence in frontof the crew, but that look in his eye? That was new. It wasn’t somuch trouble as revealing, and William couldn’t help but wonder ifhis friend had any idea it was there.

“I have no doubt, withyou teaching. Now all we need is a proper ship to test it out. Andthis, of course,” he added, pulling a sword and scabbard off of hisbelt and offering both to her. “This should fit your arm.”

“Does this mean you trustme to join in battle?” she asked eagerly, tying the scabbard ontoher belt, and pulling the sword free to inspect it.

“I don’t think that Ican keep you from it. Therefore, you should at least be properlyarmed. Please do your best not to harm any of my crew with it, nomatter how some may deserve it. And keep it clean—every sailor onboard is in charge of his own weaponry. If you need help with itscare, I’m certain the boys can show you how to hone and oil it.”

“I will manage,” Eztliassured, testing the edge of the blade with her thumb. “Thank you.”Her fingers traveled over the hilt, black leather bound around thegrip, the pommel carved into the open-mouthed yawn of a snake, fangsexposed. “Where did you find this?”

“That was the sword ofthe Spanish Captain you killed,” he explained. “I thought itappropriate you have it.”

“Sails on the horizon,Captain!” called a lookout from up in the sheets.

Vincent went to the railwith William beside him, lifting a spyglass and scanning the horizonuntil he saw the white smudge. “Bring her about, and let’s seewho it is. Looks to be a ship about our class. What do you think, Mr.Archer?”

“I think it would be agood opportunity for Miss Eztli to put her new skills to practicaluse.”

after the world ends: chapter I

summary: William wakes up alone in a hospital room full of vegetation. Where are the doctors? And his parents? And most importantly, how did the world end?

word count: 1'602

I was sixteen when the world ended. Not that I was aware of it, though. While a big rock from outer space crashed into the planet Earth, I was in a coma lying in a hospital bed. Why? you may ask. The answer is simple: when I was fourteen, I was diagnosed with a terminal disease called Pollutio. This disease was discovered in 2068 by a bunch of French scientists. It was caused by the pollution (hence the name) that lingered in the air at all times. By 2070, 98% of kids under 18 all over the world were diagnosed with it. Panic reigned everywhere: parents trying their best to keep their kids inside, governments trying (and failing) to find a cure and testing random kids who ended up with disastrous secondary effects,... It was a whole mess. All over the world. While about 80% of the kids diagnosed with Pollutio died in the early stages because the pollution percentage in the air wasn't going down, others, like me, made it further. Not that that made it much better for us. I didn't bother to learn exactly what it did to you, but I knew that as Pollutio made its way deeper and deeper into your system, you started to shut down, a bit like a computer. One day you'd wake up and find your legs weren't working anymore, or your arms, your neck... until even your brain stopped. That was the last thing I remembered when I woke up.

I was tagged by @aftertheworldends to share a book playlist, so here you go:

This was a fun one to write to, because almost everything on my playlist is sea shanties, because why not? Still, here's some of the songs I would listen to on repeat, not all of them shanties, when I wrote Letter of Marque, and likely the next two books too:

Evermore, Dan Stevens (Beauty and the Beast)

Full disclosure: I watched the movie either shortly before or shortly into writing the book (I can't remember), and this song was playing on repeat anyway. But aside from that, the song does give a good feeling to Vincent when he was first falling in love with Eztli, especially after coming to terms with his loveless marriage. Although he and Eztli were never really parted (aside from a short period where he thought she was dead, oops), the heart of it is there.

Say No To This, Hamilton

Even though Vincent came from a marriage of convenience and not love, he nonetheless 100% cheated on his wife. The vocals in this song—well, the whole musical—get to me more than anything, but regardless it was good writing fodder.

Praying, Kesha

Again, for full disclosure, this came out when I was mid-book. But the passion in her voice, and the overall sense of overcoming everything really resounded Eztli with me. So there are certain scenes that are heavy from her perspective where this song was on repeat.

And the selection of shanties that I could listen to on repeat to write to:

General Taylor

Leave her Johnny

William Taylor

Runnin Down to Cuba

Whiskey Johnny O'

Captain Kidd

Barrett's Privateers

Old Polina