Making Maps

I have always loved maps. Even as a small child, I was fascinated by those picture books with town or city scenes where you could discover all those little details and where you could see the complete town or city and imagine walking around in it. That is probably why I became so fascinated with them in the first place. At some point, then, I also became fascinated with the process of map-making and began to try it out for myself.

Whenever I come across a map in a book, even today, I can’t help but be fascinated and study it for longer than I probably should. It also doesn’t matter whether it’s a world map, an area map, a city map, or a blueprint (so, essentially, a house map). I love imagining what it would be like to be there and see it all.
Because of my fascination with maps, I’ve not only tried to draw them myself — although I have —, I’ve also looked into programs to do that with over time. Early programs I used for that were the Arcane Mapper and the Dungeon Painter Studio. Both are pretty easy to use and I have enjoyed working with them, but especially the Arcane Mapper relies heavily (or did the last time I used it) on the user finding more assets elsewhere.
I did get my hands on CC3+ as part of a Humble Bundle as well and now, with a stronger computer than I had then, I have also been looking into it, but it’s a hard one to get a grip on. Very powerful, but also very complicated.
Finally, unfortunately too late to back it on Kickstarter, I came across Dungeon Alchemist, which now is my go-to for digital map-making (although I as a writer am not the actual target audience). Dungeon Alchemist not only comes with a lot of assets (and the team is still adding more, as the game is still officially in Early Access), but also with an AI that can populate rooms according to their function without you having to put down all of the assets (furniture, decorations, lights, etc.) by hand. You can still change things later (or re-populate the room or delete all assets) with a few clicks, which is great.
So, yes, at the moment, Dungeon Alchemist is my main go-to when I quickly want to do an area map or a blueprint — mostly a blueprint.

Yet, recently I’ve also started to watch videos on YouTube from a guy who does ‘easy’ maps for fantasy games and suchlike. He’s doing it all — world maps, area maps, city maps, and dungeon maps (so something extremely similar to a blueprint) — and he’s doing it all with easy steps that make it look simple.
I’ve been trying it out already and I find that he’s right about it being simple and good-looking at the same time. That is good for the future, as I plan on doing some maps once I get to projects like “Sword and Dagger” which are set in a fantasy world and might profit from having at least a map of the city they’re set in. Being able to do them myself is a must, as I’m still self-publishing with little money to spare for help.
While I’m not yet prepared to produce something I would put into a book (and this year I won’t really have to, as the books I’m publishing are set in varieties of the real world and don’t need specific maps), I have begun to make my own maps and I enjoy it, so there’s a few things I’ve learned already.

The first thing I’ve learned, from Dungeon Alchemist as well as my own maps, is that planning is important. It’s best to start a map with a list of rooms, buildings, or landmarks you want and need to include.
For one thing, that will give you a hint on the size, as if you have a list of fifteen rooms your mansion must absolutely have, you will definitely need a larger map than for a peasant’s hovel with two rooms and a little outside area.
In addition, it will also help to spread those around the map early and then see to how they can be connected or what can be put around them. With a city map, for instance, you will want to put down all the buildings the city needs to function for you (all buildings in your story, for instance, or building that are needed for your RPG campaign) first and then fill up the space between the different streets with other buildings to reach ‘city’ status for the map.
Knowing beforehand what you’ll have on a map (or blueprint) means finding it easier to place everything in a logical way, too. If I have a dining room in my mansion, it should be close to the kitchen. A morning room should have windows facing east (as that was the point of a morning room — using the sunlight as early as possible). Bedrooms are usually on the first floor and not on the ground floor of a building (first and second floor respectively for Americans … or people from northern Germany). Taverns in a fantasy city should usually be close to big streets with a lot of traffic and to areas where a lot of people live or work. Inns might be close by the city walls, either inside or outside, to provide easy lodgings for travellers upon arrival in the city.

The second thing I’ve learned is that simple decorations can make a map look far more lively. A few simple trees made of triangles or circles with one or two lines underneath for a trunk, for instance, make the map look much better and are easy enough to do. A few short lines for grass, either straight or at an angle, can show open grassland or swamps. A triangle that’s open on the bottom is a mountain. A thicker line is a river — map-making is not only something for excellent artists. When I’m thinking back on the maps I’ve found fascinating in the past, many of them were no more complicated than that, either. Certainly, the map of Middle-Earth that held my attention longer than the Lord of the Rings novels wasn’t made with anything more complex than simple drawings to show important landmarks, cities, or other places.
Even a simple map can enhance the pleasure of reading about a strange world by quite a bit. It’s also easier to reproduce for a book or even an e-book. I will incorporate some kind of map at some point in the future, I just need to work on my skills with drawing them for a little longer, either by hand or in CC3+.

Map-making can be an interesting addition to a writer’s skill, especially if you’re writing fantasy and there are places you can’t just look up. It will be very helpful to keep distances similar and have a good idea of what is where in your world. Whether you’re just sketching out a map on a piece of paper or go all out with specific software is down to your interests, needs, and means. Look into it and see if it is helpful for you.

The Danger of Misusing Franchises

Especially Disney, a huge company on the entertainment market, has proven in recent years that while they can buy successful franchises (or the movie rights to successful IPs), they often can’t use them in a way that pleases the fans. I wrote a whole blog post about Disney and Star Wars recently, so I’m not going to go back into that now. Instead, we’ll be talking about the disaster that was Disney’s “Artemis Fowl” movie as an example. We’re also going to talk about why it is so dangerous for companies to misuse or mishandle a franchise they’ve bought the rights to.

First, I’d like to start with a short description of the Artemis Fowl series, as written by Eoin Colfer, just so we’re all on the same page. The series started in 2001 with the publishing of the first novel, simply titled “Artemis Fowl”.
From the very start, the novelty aspect of the series was presented: the character it was named for and who was definitely the protagonist, too, was both a preteen (he’s eleven in the first novel) and a full-fledged, competent criminal mastermind. Artemis is the villain in the first book (and slowly becomes a hero over time). That was interesting enough to draw people into the story and it made coming back to later books (although I think that book six and seven are a bit redundant — you can jump from five to eight, the last book, without really missing out) more likely for them as well.
There are quite some other well-realised characters in the books (and some less well-realised ones, too). For a book aimed at preteens and teens, it’s very good. Even as an adult, I’ve found reading the books entertaining and Artemis especially held up to scrutiny for me.
So, for short: Artemis is a criminal mastermind who has found out that fairies are real and is now making use of that to fill his own pockets. There’s a lot more to the first book and you might want to read it, but that’s what you essentially need to know to understand the story’s novelty.

Now for the Disney movie. When the casting decisions went public, quite some fans were already negatively surprised because two characters especially, Butler and Holly Short, were clearly cast well against their description in the book. When the first trailer was released, the fans were completely annoyed because it was all-too-obvious that this had little, if anything, to do with their beloved characters.
What about the casting, then?
Well, in the novels, Holly Short, an elf with the Lower Elements Police who meets with Artemis more than once, is several times clearly described as having nut-brown skin, brown hair, and hazel eyes. Now, fairies probably don’t have the same take on ethnicity as humans do and there’s no suggestion that Holly is considered a fairy of colour with all that includes, but the fact remains that an actress playing her should be a woman of colour. Instead, her actress is a fair-skinned, fair-haired Irish girl.
With Butler, the opposite is true. At several points in the series, Butler pretends to be a close relative of his charge (as he’s Artemis’ butler and bodyguard) — a father or an uncle. That wouldn’t work (especially with father/son) if they didn’t at least share a general colouring. Butler is described as shaving his head, but his brows are still dark and his eyes are blue — a similar blue to Artemis’ who is also described as black-haired in addition to being very pale (as he’s rarely out and about). There are suggestions (such as his given name Domovoi) that Butler might be Slavic in looks and his younger sister Juliet is described as blond-haired and blue-eyed as well. The Butler clan doesn’t seem to have African roots. In addition, they’ve been serving the Fowl clan since the fifteenth century, which would leave a bad taste if they were of African descent. Yet, both Butler and Juliet have been cast as black.
Then there’s the gender-switch for Commander Root. In the novels, Julius Root is the stereotypical rough superior who pushes his team to be the best they can be. He’s called ‘Beetroot’ by the officers under his command for his tendency to get angry quickly, too. Casting Root as a woman invalidates Holly Short’s arc in the first book, which is that she is the first female member of the recon unit — a ‘test case’ who will decide whether other female officers will be able to join later. With the commander of the recon unit being a woman, Holly clearly is no longer the first. In addition, the gender-switched casting doesn’t add to the story at all.

Yet, the more problematic change made for the movie was to make Artemis not a criminal mastermind any longer. Artemis is a nice guy in this one who is in no way, shape, or form different from other ‘preteen fantasy movie leads’ out there.
He’s also quite sporty and physical, which is the complete opposite of Book Artemis — several times throughout the series, Artemis is in considerable danger because he’s not a physical person and Butler is elsewhere and can’t help him. If Book Artemis tried to surf, he’d drown — but he wouldn’t go surfing in the first place, so it’s fine.
The big novelty of the Artemis Fowl series, as mentioned, was that Artemis was a competent criminal mastermind as early as eleven years old. That he could take over the crime empire of the family when his father went missing even earlier. That he is, without a speck of doubt, the villain in the first novel, yet he gets away with it. The first book establishes how criminal and villainous he is so the following books can slowly lead him towards a more heroic approach. Imagine how shocked the fans were to find him a nice, normal boy who will first have to learn to be a villain.
Then there’s the fact that Artemis’ mother Angeline is dead in the movie (she’s a major influence on his morals in the books) and his father is still around (to get kidnapped, something which doesn’t happen in the first novel) and knows that fairies exist. What is it with Disney and dead mothers, really?

With all of those changes made, the first and the second book squeezed together into one movie which did no services to either of the books, and with other strange choices (like casting children as most background fairies in the movie to save on computer effects), the movie wasn’t popular with the fans. For everyone else, it came down to being a pretty average urban fantasy movie aimed at preteens and teens, which also didn’t make it something everyone wanted to see.
That is the biggest danger for everyone who tries to adapt someone else’s intellectual property — if you do not understand what you are working with, you’re likely to do something which completely goes again established characteristics, traits, or canon in general. Disney fell into that trap with the Star Wars franchise and, clearly, also with Artemis Fowl. It seems as if they don’t even go far enough as to have someone read and summarise the books or watch all of the movies at least. Not to mention that they don’t seem to have anyone on the board which makes the decisions who is an outright fan…

The lesson to be learned from this, I imagine, is that you should take the time to understand a franchise before you work with it. What comes natural to writers of fan-fiction should also be common sense to people who want to profit from the fans of a franchise. If you want to pull in the fans, you have to deliver on what they love. It’s also not just the old fans — fans of your version of the franchise will be annoyed as soon as they go into older parts of it and see how different it used to be.

Internal Story Arcs

If you look into writing advice, whether in a video or in a book or on a website, you will find a lot of mentions of the ‘internal arc’ for your main character (it’s also often referred to as ‘character arc’). It’s a necessity, don’t you know? Yet, what is that elusive ‘internal arc?’ And is it really so necessary?

Let’s look at the second question first. Is an internal arc always necessary?
Well, no. Some types of stories don’t really need such an arc. In pulp stories, superhero comics, or comedic series, there usually isn’t a lasting change to the recurring characters and especially not to the main character or characters.
While in some stories characters might gain new skills, they usually are not asked to overcome a flaw (which is what an internal arc is usually all about). They are good at what they do already, they don’t really need to improve. This goes both for pulp heroes and for comic book heroes.
Similarly, many series, especially those of a more comedic bent, rely heavily on resetting the situation again between episodes, which means that no development of a character will be lasting. There might be changes in relationships (such as marriages or breakups) which last, but the characters usually don’t grow out of flaws — especially as flaws are usually chosen to allow for comedy to happen.
All of these stories need an external arc — something must be happening and the main character or characters must be involved in it. Stories without an external arc are highly experimental and usually don’t find a lot of fans. Stories without an internal arc might be looked down upon by the ‘high literature’ crowd, but they can still be very successful. So, no, depending on what you write, you might not need an internal arc at all.

If you want or need an internal arc, though, what is it about?
Internal or character arcs are almost always about a main character (rarely a supporting one) overcoming a ‘character flaw.’ ‘Flaws’ in this context are normally negative personality traits, more rarely negative habits. Characters are flawed for being shy, aggressive, arrogant, selfish, etc. They need to overcome that trait not only for their own betterment, but also in order to gain something they will need in the climax of the story — often reinforcements, sometimes information or a specific object.
It’s important not to overdo the flaw in the first place. A character who flies off the handle quickly should not beat people within an inch of their lives. They might bruise someone or cause damage to furniture etc. instead. While that is still bad enough, it is not something the audience will find unforgiving in the main character. During the story, the character then has to understand what their flaw is and has to let go of it. That can be through being told about it or through bad consequences. In the end, overcoming the flaw should pay off in some way during the climax.
For example, Han Solo’s flaw in “A New Hope” is his selfishness — he only helps for money (hence Luke’s ‘she’s rich’ line to get Han to help him rescue Leia). When he comes back in the end and saves Luke from Darth Vader, he is overcoming that selfishness and is putting his friends before his own safety (as he’s not paying off his debt to Jabba which will come back to bite him later).

One thing you should keep in mind when you’re choosing your internal arc, though, is that it should always connect with the main external one. For instance, if your internal arc is focused on your main character overcoming their shyness, then the climax of the story might include something like speaking in front of a large crowd (where shyness is definitely a problem), not defeating an enemy in combat while nobody else is present (you can be shy and a masterful fighter at the same time).
The main external arc will always be the more important one in any story, every other arc has to feed into it at some point in some way. Overcoming a flaw can help the main character overcoming a roadblock, it can give them an ally they haven’t had before, or it can gain them an object or information they need to win in the end. So if your main character’s internal arc doesn’t help with the external one in any way, it could be considered superfluous.

Internal arcs are an excellent way to give more depth to the story and add another reason for tension as well. By connecting overcoming a flaw to the things a main character needs to do in order to win the day, there is another area where problems can and most certainly will occur.
It also depends a lot on what kind of story you’re writing whether or not an internal arc can enrich the story. In an adventure story, most of the threats which can push tension are external — henchmen who come for your main character, collapsing bridges, or statues coming to life, for instance. In a romance story, on the other hand, it can matter a lot whether or not your main character can overcome their shyness or the love interest can grow out of their arrogant behaviour.
The more a story is focused on the people in it, the more useful and important can an internal arc be. The more a story is focused on action, the less useful and important an internal arc will normally be. That doesn’t mean that an action story can’t have an internal arc and that a romance story with a purely external arc can never work, but generally you will pay more attention to people’s internal struggles when their emotions matter for the story as well.

So to put it all together: an internal arc is not quite as important as an external arc for a story, but a lot of stories profit from having an internal arc or character arc at least for the main character. An internal arc should support the main external arc of the story, as this one will always be the more important one. Do not overdo the character flaw for your main character — despite being flawed, they must still be likeable or at least act in an acceptable manner. If an internal arc can add additional depth and tension to a story, you should have it in there, if not, you can just as well do without it and invest more energy into the external arcs.

Getting Back to Work

January is almost over now and it’s been the month during which I have eased out of the sabbatical I took and back into regular writing. I decided to go with another project than the one I’d worked on before I took my sabbatical and I’ve chosen the third book of the Isadora Goode series — “The Misadventures of Isadora Goode” — to ease back into writing. It was a good choice, as I really needed to get back into the flow and the novellas were easier to commit to than a novel might have been.

I’m glad I took that sabbatical in the first place, though. I had run myself ragged, always trying to keep up with the number of projects I’d plotted already and with the things happening to me and my family in real life.
The two months of respite gave me the chance to recharge, just write for fun, remind myself why I love writing so much. I also was productive in other ways, returning to crocheting, something I haven’t done for years now, taking a more relaxed approach to decorations in my journals, just doing a bit of this and a bit of that.
I’ve been reading, too, plotting new stories, and just thinking my life and my work in general through. I will not let it get to the point I was at in November again, that much is for sure.
It’s not that I’ve given up on writing completely, either. I’ve finished two Star Wars fan fictions which I really love. I’ve written some blog posts. I just haven’t written anything strictly ‘for work’ and I feel much better because of it.

Yet, with two months completely off work, I have also grown a little lazy. To a degree, it’s fine. It was something I wanted to do when taking my sabbatical.
It also means, though, that I had to ease into a regular writing habit again. I needed to find my stride again, get used to sitting down for several hours a day to write day by day, at least Monday to Friday. It’s not easy to go from ‘I write if I feel like it’ to ‘I have to write X chapters this week to make my quota.’ Yet, that is what I had to do.
During January, that is what I have done. As mentioned, I chose a novella set to get back into work, because for one thing a novella is normally around eight to twelve chapters if I plan it — so I can always see the end of the work. I also didn’t push as hard as I might have, giving myself a little leeway. It’s dangerous, as I have to make sure that ‘a day without work’ or ‘some days without work’ don’t turn into ‘months without work,’ but it’s also necessary. Not giving myself that leeway has led to my almost-burn-out in the first place, after all.

Now, I’m more or less up to par. There will always be ups and downs, times when I get a lot done and times when I struggle with just getting the bare minimum of my work finished.
January was a bit of this and a bit of that for me. I did not finish “The Misadventures of Isadora Goode”, as I had planned and hoped to, but I got two of the three novellas done — the last, longest one is going to be finished after I’ve done the editing of “The Necromancer’s Notebook” this month. I won’t even have to change the project file, as “The Necromancer’s Notebook” is volume two in the “Isadora Goode” series.
Despite not writing as often and as much as I wanted to, I’ve also almost met my quota for the month — on months where I don’t edit, the quota is 50,000 words. I have managed to get 48,000 words done, despite only easing back in. I’ll be honest — on quite some months, I’m actually well above my quota. Almost meeting it on a month where I’m just getting back into things was good enough for me.

I’ve also been thinking about why I wrote my first short-story collection very quickly when I decided to try the format out, but have struggled with both “DI Colin Rook” and “Scholomancer” (which is not yet done).
I think I know where the problem lies and how I might solve it now. The first collection (which will be out at the end of May as “The Lady of the Dead”) has a rising threat. The tension is pushed throughout the five stories and a common problem and enemy connects them. There are five different things which happen to Joanna and Alice, but there is the same enemy behind them. “DI Colin Rook” and “Scholomancer” are just a collection of stuff which happens without that person behind it all, without that plot-thread going through all of it. They are not connected.
I will go back to “Scholomancer” and work the stories over, connect them in a way (“DI Colin Rook” is written and it’s fine as it is — yet, who knows? I might actually change a few  things in the edit…). That might make it easier for me to keep writing. The other story collections I’ve plotted will be worked over, too (although “Hunters”, “The Crew”, and “Fallen Angel” all have more of a through-line already). More to do, but it’s fine.

It should be clear from this post so far that my sabbatical has been a success. I have gotten the rest I so direly needed. I have been able to think through something which I had a problem with. I have reminded myself of why I enjoy writing so much. I have gotten back to writing, too. The way ahead is clear for me — February is about editing and releasing “The Necromancer’s Notebook”. After I have prepared the release, I might do more writing on “The Misadventures of Isadora Goode”. I am much more motivated to write now (even to edit, although I don’t like editing) and I am looking forward to writing again. That hasn’t always been the case a few months ago.