Writings

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.

Why Edward?

This is the question that burns under almost every Twific I write. According to interviews, it was one of the main questions that Rob asked Stephenie Meyer: why would a boy stay with the vampire who turned him? What was it he saw? In Ithaca is Gorges, I gave a partial answer:

Unbeknownst to me, the venom had reached his brain in fewer than twelve hours, and so he had quickly become privy not only to the words I was speaking, but also to the internal monologue that ran parallel to the story I told him. I unintentionally laid myself bare to Edward as he was being changed, revealing to him my deepest emotions: the crushing pain of my loneliness, my terror that he would despise me for his entire existence, my fervent hope that he might someday know me as a companion, perhaps even as family.

By the time he awoke, Edward knew me better than I did. And then he quietly stepped in to fill the void he saw in my still heart.

But as I wrote more and more, I realized that to give that question a full answer required capturing Carlisle all the way back; exploring each of the things which ripped at him, and every moment that helped create that void.

And so I started working on Stregoni.

And yet, when after twenty three chapters, I get to part where I try to give the answer, I wonder if it feels unsatisfying. I finished this chapter in late June of this year, and felt pleased with it then. But part of what pleases me about it is exactly that I don’t think I answered the question.

Because I’m not sure there is any one single answer.

Why Edward? is the ongoing question. Why Edward? drives everything about Carlisle’s relationship with his son. Carlisle will spend the rest of eternity unpacking this moment and this day; and I wanted to do his effort justice in the way that I wrote it.

As always I owe my beta, Openhome, great thanks for her help in tweaking this chapter so that it rang every bell I needed it to ring.

Why Edward?

It drives Carlisle as a father.

It drives me as a writer.

Happy Reading.

When I first envisioned Stregoni, even though the prologue was from William’s POV, I envisioned writing the entire book from Carlisle’s perspective. But as I truly turned the idea over in my head, I realized that it was important to see him through the eyes of the people around him; that to give him the proper foils in each of these time periods allows me to show him more fully.

William has always been tricky, however. For Carlisle learned to be a father somewhere, and it wasn’t merely by doing the exact opposite of what he saw growing up. Somewhere, someone did care about him, even if it was in the most twisted way possible.

Some folks have asked how close we are to the end, which is something I never feel bad about spoiling, because were this a real book, you would be able to tell how close you are. Chapter 22 is the seventh to last—there are two more chapters in each timeline, and then an epilogue (which, if you’ve read Ithaca is Gorges, may very well be a scene you recognize—just retold and enriched.)

Thank you for following the story this far, and I hope you enjoy its conclusion.

As always, many thanks to Openhome; the chapter, no matter how well executed in draft, always gets richer when I revise on her comments.

A bit of a personal story interlude:

When my father turned 40 (I was 2, he’s now 68), his sister bought him a copy of the Tao Te Ching, He read it every morning for 20 years, so basically the entire time I was growing up. So it was always something I knew of, and something he quoted frequently, both in public and in private.

Not too long ago, I was complaining about something, and he told me that according to the Tao, I was a perfect daughter. I stammered a bit, and then he said, “In the Tao, to be is to be perfect. You are perfect because you are.”

One of the things that fascinates me about Carlisle, and one thing that continues to draw me to him (and where I felt SM gave him particularly short shrift), is this idea of his feeling of utter inadequacy as a result of his Puritan theological upbringing. Puritanism is a belief system of constantly falling short, of being born into a nearly irreparable state of original sin, of constantly needing to work to better oneself and to prove that one is worthy of God. I see this in Carlisle’s profession and his attitude toward it: in a way, vampirism becomes a new kind of original sin for him, a state of disgrace which he finds himself constantly working to be better than.

So as I thought about how Carlisle would react to a piece of philosophy/theology (I’m never quite sure where to put the TTC on that continuum, if indeed there even is one) like the Tao, I realized that it must shake him to the core—and for that reason, speak to him rather sharply. It’s a different forgiveness than the forgiveness he was taught. A forgiveness that rather than “Work hard, pray hard, and hope it’s good enough,” says instead, “Allow yourself to be. Be in harmony. And this is perfection.”

One of the beauties of Volterra is that it is this place where Carlisle does a ton of growing and learning and changing. For this reason, it is a place with which he is reluctant to sever ties. He associates it with a bit of his own personal renaissance as a vampire. Yet the very nature of such growth is that it tends to take you away from the place where you experienced it, as you desire to stretch yourself beyond the boundaries you now know are able to be broken through.

Growing pains, I suppose you could call them, though I’m sure Aro would have a more insidious interpretation….

As always, I owe great thanks to my beta, Openhome, who always helps guide these chapters until they are pinpoint precise on what I wanted them to be.

Happy Reading.

“Unto whomsoever much is given…”

I admit, that’s what I wanted to name this chapter. Because I think that quote captures Carlisle so well. Vampirism is, to Carlisle (at least as I write him), as much a blessing as a curse. It gives him superhuman power and strength, and he is determined to use those attributes for good. Rather than see them as a means to destroy humans, they give him all the more fuel to hold himself to the highest standard. He has more gifts than humans do, and since he’s not going to use those gifts to eat them, he’s going to use those gifts to save them.

But of course that creates conflict, too. He can’t save everyone, and the added high standard simply puts more pressure on him (as high standards are wont to do). So instead of seeing his gifts clearly, and acknowledging to himself when he’s done as much as he’s able to do,  he keeps pressing, and becoming more and more depressed as he does so.

Carlisle needs people in his life who offer him the forgiveness he’s unable to. Later, that will be Esme and Edward the rest of his children Which is of course, why there’s Dorothy here.

This chapter went from 2,900 words to 3,200 at beta, and then as I revised it, I would add two hundred words here, only to delete two hundred more later. But as always, there will be more to come next week.

Many thanks to Openhome for being the person who both forgives me for holding myself to ridiculous high standards…but simultaneously makes sure I produce a chapter that meets them.