PROGRESS REPORT # 42 : TRAPPED!

I've finally had some time this weekend to catch up on some of my writing tasks. This morning I posted a new travel blog (see http://travelthroughhistory.blogspot.com) and later put a shorter version of it and another story up on Planet Eye. www.planeteye.com (Vancouver Expert)
Then I finished editing a story about Bodrum and the fascinating underwater archaeological museum there. Later when the rain stopped I went out on a little field trip for Planet Eye. I'm writing about the various neighbourhoods in the city and had to scout along West Broadway in the Kitsilano district to check on the shops etc.
That was kind of fun and a bit of a trip down memory lane as well, because this is a Greek area of town and there are lots of Greek bakeries and two very good Greek supermarkets there. I went in one and Greek music was playing and most of the stuff on the shelves was like what you get in Athens, and all written in Greek. I lingered for awhile -- will definitely go back soon. I wanted to buy a spanikopita at one of the bakeries but I didn't have enough change on me.

I got home in time for my dinner which was just a left-over dish from Thanksgiving, watched the news, and then puttered around. Now I've just finished catching up on some editing for Shadow of the Lion . I hope that tomorrow I will be able to start working on the next new chapter segment.

I have felt so 'trapped' by not being able to get down to work on the novel. Because I've overbooked myself and always seem to be rushing about, riding across town on buses, going to classes and barely taking a breather, I felt as if I was losing my inspiration. Then, after the Writer's Conference last week, thinking over what so many of the presenters said, about your story needing a solid 'voice' as narrator, and realizing that my story is told from various points of view, I started to get that sinking feeling of, "oh,oh, maybe this isn't working after all!" However, last night I went to see a theatre production with my friend and we discussed this. She said that she could see Roxana's voice being the strongest throughout. So I got this idea that I could do the Prologue in Roxana's point of view from a place near the end when she is reminiscing about Alexander. That way it will connect more directly with Chapter One -- his death-- as the way I have it now she doesn't really get her voice until Chapter Two. That little problem solved, I am now going to quit worrying about it and just see how it goes. Recently I went through the whole manuscript
checking on details about two of my minor characters and in reading through I impressed myself. For the most part, it's tight and well written and as I've been block editing as I go along, most of it is pretty nearly final draft.

So now, it's time to get on with it, 'unstuck' myself and continue.

Here's a portion of the chaotic scenes I am currently working on, just to give you an idea of where I am and how things are working out for my characters who are camped out in the seaport fortress of Pydna while the enemy, Kassandros, is only a few miles away camped at the sanctuary of Dion.

Roxana was wakened in the early hours before dawn by the ill-omened sound of shouting. Without rousing the child who slept on his cot beside her, she threw a woollen cloak over her night dress and ran outside. Up on the fortress ramparts she could see a knot of men, swords drawn, peering over the edge of the wall. Breathless with excitement, she raced up the stone stairway and pushed her way past the sentries.

“Is he here? Has Polyperchon come?”

The sentries, who were debating heatedly with one another, paid her no heed. She leaned over the ramparts and looked down. A light dusting of snow lay on the ground and the pale dawn light glittered on the ice-crusted tufts of grass and shrubs. Below the ramparts she saw an army. A troop of soldiers had cordoned off the outskirts of Pydna town that nestled beneath the south wall. She caught a glimpse of their standards. Her heart sank and a cold shudder of fear overcame her. They weren’t Polyperchon’s men. The town was full of Kassandros’ soldiers. Across to the west where the fields met the salt marsh and sea, a troop of soldiers armed with picks and shovels were digging a trench and erecting a wooden palisade, while others hauled up siege equipment.

She felt her breath go out of her and her knees grew weak. She grasped the stone ledge to steady herself as the horrifying truth became clear to her. Kassandros’ army had come in the night and cut off the citadel from the rest of the city. They were trapped.