Writing a Labyrinth of Souls Novel

By Lisa Alber

You may have noticed that every once in awhile one of us ShadowSpinners will mention “Labyrinth of Souls” (LoS), which is a Tarot-inspired solitaire card game with a role-playing aspect to it, created by our own Matthew Lowes. “Labyrinth of Souls” also refers to the companion novels that most of us are writing or have written already. I signed on during the summer, and I’m nearing the end of my first draft—it’s been a blast. And highly educational for me to step out of my usual genre.

I chose a bad-ass beauty, the Queen of Wands, as my inspiration/theme. My novel will be called “The Bog Queen,” and is also inspired by Celtic/Irish lore–and bog bodies!

I write crime fiction. Dark fantasy is new, new, new to me. I find it liberating to write in a world that doesn’t need to be grounded in reality, a world that includes mythological creatures and adventures that can defy the basic laws of nature. The sky can be permanently reddish. My hero can accidentally pollute a stream because of his very humanity. Ravens can turn into a triad goddess. My imagination crackles along in the most fun fashion.

Recently, a bunch of us LoS-ers spent a writer’s retreat weekend on the Oregon coast. For me, part of the purpose was also to ground myself in fantasy—i.e. to ask for advice. I was reminded that in terms of storytelling, these stories are pretty straightforward. I don’t have to worry about planting clues and red herrings, as I would with a mystery. My hero’s on a journey, and the outer journey through the labyrinth reflects his inner journey toward some kind of change. This isn’t so different from any story, but with mystery you have an extra-added whodunnit? puzzle layer.

Instead of the mystery layer, I’m wrestling with the world-building layer. Wow. Just wow. I’ve always admired the imagination that fantasy writers wield, but now I truly get it. Halfway through writing my first draft, I realized that I’d have compartmentalize the world-building writing aspect since I’m coming at this skill as a newbie. So the first draft is all about figuring out the world and the challenges it poses to the hero along the way. This is the plot, essentially.

I normally start with character, so starting with the plot is an interesting twist in my usual writing process all by itself. For my second draft, I’ll return to character and deepen the internal plot line, add more description in some places, and so on.

Questing Beast makes an appearance in “The Bog Queen.”

It feels strange not to have mystery elements to fall back on as the scaffold for the story. Instead, I have the equivalent of a ticking clock. My hero will be annihilated if he doesn’t figure out his shit and defeat the challenges the labyrinth places in his way. It’s a thriller, basically, another type of story I’ve never written before.

I’ve now read the LoS novels that have already been published, and what I love about the project is how different our versions of the labyrinth are and how different our stories are. Check out the other Labyrinth of Souls novels here.

The Art of Creative Frittering (and Creative Napping too)

By Lisa Alber

On July 1st, I began writing a brand-spanking hold-your-horses new first draft, and it was a little painful, to be honest. Wait, what, I need to use my right brain now? But I want to analyze my idea to death into foooorever … It takes me awhile to disengage from the left brain and just start. It’s like wandering off a cliff; we’d all resist that, wouldn’t we?

Luckily, I’ve walked off this cliff enough to know that I float rather than fall. Or maybe I fall a little, but I never do the Wiley Coyote kersplat. Writing first drafts ends up being a wild ride, that’s for sure, but I always survive.

I have to give myself a hard start date, whether I feel ready or not. Hence, July 1st. I’m calling the draft “The Shadow Maiden.” My goal is 1,000 words (about four pages) per day for July, and then I’ll pause to engage my left brain in a little analysis: Does the story have chops? What have I learned about the story, characters, their motivations, and so on? What adjustments should I make now so I can continue in a better-thought-out direction?

That will be fun, but right now, I’m Little Miss Right Brain with my brainstorming novel notebook and Kaizen creativity tiny steps and pints o’ beer to help lube the wheels. (Not every day, but, yes, sometimes.) I’ll revise the shit out of anything, and I’ll do it with focus for hours, but first-draft writing? Some days it goes smoothly; other days I spend all day to get my 1,000 words.

ALL DAY. I’m not sure why this is. To an outside observer, I probably look addled. Walking around. Sitting down at the laptop again to tap out a hundred words. Unloading half the dishwasher and wandering away. Staring into space while scratching my dog’s tummy. Spacey. Distracted. It’s not relaxing, per se, because I can feel my brain inside my head (like, literally, man), heavy with unconscious processing.

I call this creative frittering, and it has a different feel from generalized putzing or procrastinating or being lazy.

Summer is my best season for writing first drafts because gardening provides a perfect outlet on creative frittering days. In fact, I’m proud to say that Manolo, the man who helps me out a few hours a month (big yard), always comments on how good the yard looks, especially the weeds — or lack of them, I should say. Yep, that’s me on creative frittering days, doing his job for him. But the garden does look pretty darned good, if I do say so.

Is there an art to creative frittering? I think so. It’s waking with the intention to write that day, but then, oddly, giving yourself the time and space to “be” without striving for the end outcome. Most of us don’t have much time to spare, and that’s true for me too. Yet, my creative process orders me to allow space for creative frittering anyhow. Mind you, it’s not every day. Maybe once a week at most. Maybe my brain needs to fill up its well, I don’t know. And sometimes, nothing works, and I don’t get my 1,000 words in, and I have to be OK with that because I’m only human.

The art of creative frittering also includes the art of creative napping. Straight up, no joke, scout’s honor. TRUTH. Here’s a great example: Last Saturday, I was particularly restless, not knowing what to do with the current scene or with myself in my body. Even gardening didn’t work. Then I realized I might as well do the exact opposite, lie down. Weird realization: The reason I couldn’t sit still to write or do much of anything was because I actually did need to rest awhile. I was so relaxed on the couch with Fawn, my eight-pound little nugget pup, nestled against me, picturing the characters in the scene, dozing off … And then, A-HA! followed by a mad dash to find my novel notebook before I lost my brilliant idea.

See? Napping, the next best thing to frittering.

I hope you enjoy these pictures of my garden, the end result of last year’s creative frittering while writing PATH INTO DARKNESS (out in a month!) and this year’s.

What say you to creative frittering, or just frittering? Do you get impatient with yourself or go with the flow?