I admit it; I hated poetry in school. I didn’t “get” it. I couldn’t see how a horse bite equaled a commentary about love, or how a firetruck meant passion or whatever. I was probably just too literal. I hated pulling apart something I thought was lovely like dissecting a dead animal until it was only parts strewn about the table, bearing no resemblance to the astonishing thing it had been before.
But I guess it worked in the end.
What I found interesting about being a ‘pantster’ (see HERE for the old blog to help explain this!) is that I do it subconsciously in many cases. For short fiction, I can remember later to do it, but not for novels. For long pieces, it’s a lot to try and go back and slip it in later, and it becomes contrived if you do. So it either happens naturally, or it doesn’t happen.
I remember having a beta reader compliment me on the symbolism of Lance dropping the enormous fur coat off the cliff in HillTop. He had escaped. He could let go. So he threw away the symbol of his imprisonment…
Go me. I had no idea!
But this time, I’m rather proud of the stool.
I finished writing “Traitor”, the last book in the series. And I noticed something; Arnika had a stool. You first meet her as she sits at the CampCircle for her father, uncomfortable and awkward on the stool. But after she marries, she seeks the stool as her place among the Galanth. Over time, she owns it, and it becomes a position of authority. And, in finality, it becomes her power to act! Go girl!
I love the stool now. That which had been so difficult to tolerate became her place, her purpose, and then her power.
Just happens, I guess, but discovering I needed to hit Gannon with something and Arnika was right there on her stool…
Now I get what the essays were about. It just took me twenty years longer.
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D. Lambert, author
Fantasy novels that entice, inspire, and entertain.