I find I don’t have much to say about this chapter except to thank my beta, because that is where my mind is right now. One of the great things about fan fiction is that the interaction between readers and writers opens the door for you to meet people you end up truly loving as your closest friends.
It’s not my place to say any more, but I feel the only thing appropriate to do in conjunction with this chapter is to express my extreme gratitude for her help, her guidance, and her friendship.
(I posted this to my tumblr last night, but I think it bears repeating as the notes to this chapter.)
I always find myself amused by what I feel the urge to listen to while I’m editing or writing a particular chapter or scene. I don’t have a set “soundtrack” to anything, and one gift I always ask for are iTunes gift cards so that I always have a balance ready to purchase exactly the song I want for any particular moment of writing.
When I sat down to edit chapter 26, I knew I needed to listen to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s setting of “Pie Jesu.” sung by a boy soprano. It’s a beautiful piece, and something told me this was the piece for this chapter. So I dug around on iTunes until I found a setting I liked, and then put it on one-song repeat.
I had never in my life looked up the meaning of the Latin in this piece, until the moment when I knew *this* was the song I needed to hear as I worked on this chapter. I just knew that I liked it, and that I needed it to do these edits.
This is the translation:
Lord Jesus Who takes on the sins of the world Give them rest
Lamb of God Who takes on the sins of the world Give them rest Everlasting rest
Call me a crazy author, but I think the urge to listen to that was Carlisle. Telling me exactly what he wanted to say to Edward in his turning.
(It was also eerily appropriate given the tragedy in Connecticut yesterday, and these words certainly apply there, as well.)
I posted this one without sending it to my beta to stay on track with getting SB up in December, but she is never undeserving of my thanks. Openhome sits on my shoulder even when I’m self-editing, going, “You’ve already said that three times, move along.”
I’ve mentioned this before in authors’ notes, but it’s especially important here. One of the questions I asked myself, when I began Stregoni, is how did Carlisle become the father he became? It’s not enough simply to say he tried to be the opposite of the man who raised him; not only does that not capture the complexity of how we inherit our parenting styles from our parents, it also renders William merely as a cardboard cut-out foil. The anti-Carlisle, as it were.
So instead, I asked, what if a great deal of who Carlisle is actually does come from his father? After all, he never knew his mother. In many ways, this drives some of the best conflict in the 1667 chapters. When you have opposing characters that are nothing alike, you get a struggle. But when you have opposing characters that are almost exactly alike, you get a really fascinating struggle.
And here the conflict brewing between Carlisle and William finally rears its head.
I apologize for the delay in posting; if I’d planned this slightly better, I’d have posted 25 at the beginning of this month so that 23, 24, and 25 would sit together, as they’re meant to—each being the crux of their respective storylines. But I trust that it will still be an enjoyable read.
From here on out, SB will post weekly; there are three full chapters remaining as well as a sizeable epilogue. Simultaneously, I’ve finished the entirety of a draft of a new Pre-Twilight novella, and am about 40% of the way through with a second one—these were both bid on for Fandom Gives Back, Eclipse Edition, and those who donated have been rather patient with me while I worked out the kinks. So along with SB, we’ll have some new things coming down the pipeline, too.
As always, I owe a great debt to my beta, Openhome, in this instance, for helping me slay my darlings. Just to give you some sense of what revision is like on an SB chapter, this one in draft was 7,820 words. When I sent it to Openhome after my first revision round, it was right at 6300. The one that is posted today is just under 5100. Having a friend whom you can trust when she says, “This all can go,” is worth everything the world over, and I’m grateful for her help.
One reason I remain staunchly opposed to the practice of publishing one’s fanfic without credit to the original author (which, by the way, happens automatically in the case of publishing a fanwork of an out-of-copyright source–by keeping Mr. Darcy as Mr. Darcy, you implicitly acknowledge your debt to Austen in the creation of the character) is because I still have never seen an answer to this central paradox that doesn’t rely on “Well, I just didn’t know any better” as the crux of the defense.
And as we are largely a community of adults, and since I don’t know of a soul under the age of 18 who has P2Ped, I find “I didn’t know any better” to be a lame excuse.
One of the most fun things for me to consider as a fanfic writer is who exerts the most influence on the characters, especially given that I don’t get to decide who those people are. The cast is set, and I can see the result of who these people become, but can only guess at exactly how they got there.
In Breaking Dawn, pg. 719, Aro comments to Garrett,
“A very pretty speech, my revolutionary friend.” Garrett remained poised for attack. “Revolutionary?” he growled. “Who am I revolting against, might I ask? Are you my king? Do you wish me to call you master, too, like your sycophantic guard?” “Peace, Garrett,” Aro said tolerantly. “I meant only to refer to your time of birth. Still a patriot, I see.”
What happens to Carlisle when he encounters a patriot? He is steadfast beyond steadfastness; at times to his detriment. Unwilling to push the ball forward if it means disharmony. Yet the very purpose of someone like Garrett is to challenge the existing system; to upset the balance in a way that shakes loose order to create new order.
Thus it is that when Carlisle is stalled, caught between his desire for loyalty, peace, and harmony, that it requires someone who is willing to create a ruckus to break him free of his own bonds.
And so, amidst the insanity of July 14, 1789, we find two patriots, not one.