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Author Spotlight: Tally Johnson

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Y’all comfortable? Good, because if you’re going to spend some time with Tally Johnson you need to get comfortable. Man’s a storyteller from the old school. Best of Creek Walking, a collection of his work, is the short story Creek Walking – which meanders it way into a story while walking along railroad tracks, trading cards, and biking dirt trails.

His day job is the local history coordinator for the Chester County Library system. Mr. Johnson is also a professional storyteller, going to local libraries and schools. From his research he has published books on the paranormal subjects: Ghosts of the South Carolina Upcounty and Ghosts of the South Carolina Midlands.

Within the Carolina publishing community, he helps out at ConCarolinas running the paranormal track.

If you ever get to attend a convention and he is sharing ghost stories at night, attend. The man’s stories are even better told in person. His writer’s voice is pure joy in person; it’s meant to be experiences in audio format.

Flash: Date a Necromancer

Image courtesy of Somkiat Fakmee at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

“You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen.”

My cat looks up at me. “Merp?”

“No, not you.” I pick up Agent Tom and pet his stripped fur. “I want all the mice to be dead and birds to stop shitting on my car. You are perfect.” I kiss his head and brush my cheek against the top of his head while staring daggers at my boyfriend.

Looking up from his textbook, Nathan holds his spoon halfway between his bowl of cereal and his mouth, dripping milk. “What?”

I glare at the severed hand on the waxpaper and the intestines in the mason jar sitting on my side of the table and then back at him.

He finishes putting the spoon in his mouth, chews, and swallows. “What?”

“Oh for the love of G– clean up after yourself!” I let Agent Tom escape my arms before turning to get the hot bread out of the toaster. Muttering under my breath, I butter the toast. “Date a necromancer, my mom says. People are always dying, he will never be out of a job, she says. No mention of the…” I switch to a much louder voice, “…constant body parts just dropped everywhere!”

I drag my chair to his side of the table and shove his book aside to make room for my toast and grapefruit.

“Wait, what, …” Nathan moves the textbook before the shift flips the pages. “… Anita, give me a second.”

I roll my eyes, but let him move things without any further intervention, though the body parts on the other side of the table remain in place. “Idiot.” I accuse him affectionately.

“Psycho,” he replies, giving me a half-smile and nudging my leg with his before going back to his studies. Finals are in two weeks.

(words 301; first published 3/15/2020)

Editing Rant: Prologue Use

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Oh, good grief.

Why do I have a prologue for a short story? No – oh, no – why are there prologues for three short stories in this collection someone is trying to sell my publisher – and the fourth short story has a flashback? Do you not understand how short stories work? …. What prologues are for?

I get it. Fantasies have prologues, but not.every.single.time. Especially in a short format where laser focus is needed. Just because (fill in the blank, famous-and-now-dead high fantasy author) used prologues back in their day, does not mean you get to use them now.

Well, this one is an easy decision. My publisher hates prologues. Unless there is a great reason to have it – and I have seen them used properly once in a hundred uses – the submission is a reject. Only six more to read today. (Yes, I want to accept submissions, but I have two slots this year and a hundred submissions. Bad prologues go into the “no” pile.)

For the most part, what I was seeing are prologues used as a big info backstory dumps for lazy writers who can’t figure out how to integrate backstory into the narration (I’ve touched on how to do backstory integration elsewhere). That said, if done right, providing a hint to the story which raises questions instead of just answering questions which haven’t been asked yet, prologues are useful. One example I read was a beautiful pre-story explaining something that affected every decision the point-of-view (POV) character made, but she did not know how this childhood event changed her as a person. The reader sees it, but the POV character doesn’t know and cannot know and therefore cannot share it in the primary narration.

Another good use of prologues is in murder mysteries where you meet the victim and witness the event of the murder before the detective character shows up. In both this case and the previous case, the camera through which we are witlessness the main story does not have access to the information. Also in both cases, the prologue was written like part of the story – action-oriented. In the info dump case, the long history of everything which went before on the fantasy world told by a historian is BORING, and often irrelevant to the story. I love worldbuilding, but not reading it dry. I didn’t like dates and places in history class when I was in school, and I don’t like them now. I do love history though and have been part of a recreation hands-on group for years.

So don’t do info dumps – not for prologues and certainly not in short stories. You might need to write them up during the first draft, but remove them and set them aside during the second draft.

I’ll close with an exchange I had with some editors.

***

Erin Penn: I’ve never realized just how bad prolog-itis is until I started reading slush.

Editor One: LOL

Editor Two: It is an epidemic.

Erin Penn: Affecting over 50% of the population.

Editor Two: We need a vaccine.

Editor Three: It’s particularly virulent in fantasy authors…

Editor Four: And like most bugbears of writing, the infestation of bad ones ruin the possibility for a really good one. Because it is possible to have a good prologue, but almost nobody does.

People want to dump all that exposition in early so they don’t have to worry about it any more – they want the Star Wars opening crawl through space. The thing is, if they can just restrain themselves, they DON’T have to worry about it. If the story matches the exposition, the exposition will come out as the story unfolds.

Erin Penn: Stealing for a some-day blog post!

Flash: Rafella de Sable (Part 3)

The challenge with game mechanics is creating a character with a history to match. I wanted a character who was (1) a noble, (2) a thief, and (3) a magic user.

*** Rafella de Sable (Part 3) – Wild Child

And so he did, only this time the miscarriage killed the mother as well. Andre refused to eat with his father thereafter and had nothing to do with the two children that he knew on some level were not his. Bereft of both mother and father, ignored by her grandfather in all but her schooling and then held the strictest standards, Rafaela began to run wild outside the house. In the house, she was the model child, trying to gain attention by good deeds and behavior. But the eldest child was already engaged to be married to an ancient line (the grandfather wanted to keep that line pure in case the eldest child ended up inheriting). The tutor, though loving a student as good with languages as Rafaela, had to put the last touches on his finest product. The middle two girls were wondering what marriages were in store for them. (The grandfather needed money, so he was going to sell them off to the highest bidders. )  And what little energy was left in the house was aimed at the Heir – Andre de Sablehart the Fifth, a sickly, weak child. The boy remained the center of attention for the house and was spoiled rotten, in the true meaning of the phrase.

While running wild, Rafaela caught the eye of a thief in her neighborhood. The old townhouse was in the in-between area, where the new rich can buy the first of their titles and the old rich can sell the last of their possessions. Charismatic and welcomed in most of houses, Rafaela was a treat for the second-story man. He taught her the tricks of the trade while she cased houses for him. Initially he just brought the information up in conversation, but eventually he took her into his confidence for real – about the same time he took her into his bed. She was ten. But all good things must come to an end, and the old guildmaster started making mistakes. Seeing the way the wind was blowing and being high up enough in the guild to have to choose sides in the upcoming power change, the thief introduced her to the three possible next guildmasters, turned her over to the guild teachers as an apprentice and booked out of town. Rafaela is forever grateful to both the thief and the guild.

When she was nine, she attended her oldest sister’s wedding. The girl was about seventeen. Being a second son, the boy had tried adventuring to make his fortune. He succeeded enough for de Sablehart to consider him a good prospect, if one keeps in mind his lineage. After the marriage, the couple moved into the Sablehart manor. But at the wedding, Rafaela joined the other children running everywhere. She kept in mind her training from her street friend and went into every corner of the house. Once she was caught exploring, tried to wiggle her way out physically and for the first time of her life did not succeed in her squirming. Falling back on her last resort she managed to charm her way out of it. That person was intrigued and investigated enough to find out the child was too intelligent for her own good, able to do any slight of hand magic trick if shown how to do it once and was absolutely adorable in her willingness to please adults.

He bought her before the wedding feast had finished. Not that it was called that, but marriage contracts were signed. Enough money traded hands that the grandfather no longer had to sell his other two assets cheaply (not that it was ever going to be cheap, but now he could hold out for titles and age appropriate grooms). The contract was long and complicated, as the buyer wanted a magic user of some sort and was willing to pay for all training. The brideholder was to find the instructors for this to happen and provide lodging for the same.

It took de Sablehart awhile to find a mage with enough knowledge to teach, who didn’t want to play hermit or join an academy, and who needed money. So, while Rafaela does not have the best mage in the world as her instructor, she did learn magic. Her teacher was an illusionist, a broken man dealing with more tragedy (in his opinion) then one man should have ever faced. With his need to escape reality, Rafaela was able to get him addicted to a drug she had access to through the thieves’ guild and being his supplier, manipulated the man unmercifully.

Her comings and goings were no longer questioned. She merrily switched time between the guild, the etiquette teacher and the mage. And she discovered her basic nature. She needed to prove herself. Realizing she would never be able to do that to her grandfather or the man she called father, she is driven to prove herself against nature – the very thing that seemed to have it in for the family. She loves court intrigue, even in a small backwater town like she lives in, as it challenges her mind. She loves missions from the guild, as it forces her physically to limits and the pass-fail option is very obvious. And most of all she loves illusionist magic, partially to see if she can really fool people in what they think is real and partially for the rush of raw chaos through her body that threatens to consume it even as she forces the magic into submission.

(Words 921, first written for game 9/23/2005; first published 3/8/2020)