Legolas. :)

notbecauseofvictories:

Legolas and Arwen have known each other most of their lives, in the way that only children of Third Age Elvish royalty can—Thranduil hosted midwinter hunts for the White Hart that Elrond was obliged to attend; Rivendell was a summer house, in truth, hidden among the cool mountains, and Legolas spent more than one summer swimming in the Brunien with Elrohir and Elladan. Galadriel makes a point to gather everyone in Lothlorien every few decades, a gesture that is probably intended to foster unity among their kind, but instead serves as an excuse to judge Thranduil’s fashion choices and roll their eyes at Elrond’s drunken rambles about Gil-galad’s prowess in battle.

There was even—briefly, but from all parties—a hope that Legolas and Arwen might wed. Obviously, Arwen is significantly older than Legolas, and though she did not have a crown, exactly, she was Galadriel’s favorite and Elrond’s daughter. But the throne of the Greenwood is considered a lesser seat, besides, and Legolas is a lesser son—even if his brothers were already betrothed, or fighting elsewhere.

They were both Elves, nobility of the Third Age, and it seemed eminently sensible.

Legolas at that time was the Elvish equivalent of a teenager (fewer pimples, more existential crises and bad poetry) while Arwen was in her early twenties (plus several hundred years) and they both hated every second of it.

At that point, neither of them could have told you why. They couldn’t even tell each other why, except in the vaguest, least helpful terms. “It just doesn’t…” Arwen had said, hunching her shoulders. They were sitting on her bed in Rivendell, and Legolas had nodded with probably more fervor than was strictly necessary. “Right!” he’d answered. “Exactly, it’s not—I mean, you’re…! It’s just…”

(She was nice. Arwen had always been nice to him. He liked her, she was very beautiful, and she liked him—he was funny, sort of cruel, unaffected, and had a nice singing voice. But for a race that prized world-ending love, that sang songs of Luthien and Beren, Finwe and Mirel, they were decidedly ill-matched.)

Later, he’d taken her hand. “You can lie,” Legolas had said, and even after, Arwen will remember how kind that was. “You can tell your father that—that we…I don’t mind.”

They’re alone in her room, the both of them cross-legged on her bed, and still she feels nothing except a tepid sort of affection, a gratitude. He’s being kind, of course she’s grateful. She just…wants to feel something, alone in her room, sitting this close to a man. (She’s sung the Lay of

Leithian enough times in her father’s halls, that’s what she wants.)

“No,” she tells Legolas, and he smiles when she kisses him on the forehead. “It’s all right. I’ll figure out another way.”

(Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and a Man, comes to the halls of her grandmother like Beren came to Doriath. Holy fucking shit, Arwen writes to Legolas. I didn’t actually think it was real, what the fuck.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Legolas says, decades after, when Arwen sits beside her kingly husband in the halls of Minas Tirith. Legolas’ grey eyes track the passage of Gimli, son of Gloin, across the hall, and Arwen cannot help but loop her arms around the Elf who might have once been her betrothed, and laugh.)

Help Us Make A Mando’a Dictionary!

mandowords:

In the MandoWords Discord and on this blog we’ve made a bunch of Mando’a words and now we’re upping up our custom Mando’a words game by letting you submit your own words! 

These words will go through a vetting process done by myself and a few moderators from the Discord server to make sure the words work within the Mando’a grammar rules. Here are the things we will be looking for in submitted words:

  • The construction of the word needs to make sense. This means that you must use words that are already established in the Mando’a dictionary. You can cut them up and squish them together, just make sure the meanings of the words you’ve put together to create your new word make sense!
  • Pronunciation. Just like on Mandoa.org, your words need to have their pronunciation written next to them. It’s suggested you use the pronunciations from the words used to create this new word.
  • Parts of Speech. Is it a noun? Is it a verb? Is it an adjective? We need to know because words may be the same in english but be different in context. In mando’a the words used in the construction of the word make decide what type of word it is.

You can submit your words HERE and we’ll get to adding them as soon as we can. You can see if your word has been approved by our vetting team HERE and you can see the official MandoWords public mando’a dictionary HERE, or by going onto the blog, clicking the “pages” drop down menu and selecting the option for “Public Mando’a Dictionary.”

How to avoid informed traits

procrastiwriting:

tenebrica:

You know those characters that are constantly referred to so smart or so capable or so sensitive (etc. etc.) by other characters or in the narration? And every time it comes up you find yourself shaking your head or rolling your eyes because the character in question  either is as bland as boiled potatoes or constantly acts in ways that contradict those claims without explanation? 

That’s what is commonly called an “informed trait”. You’re told the character is a certain way (or has a certain ability), but there is more or less nothing in the text to back that up. 

It goes the other way around, too, with informed flaws that are supposed to make a character more relatable or interesting – think almost every romantic comedy leading lady who is supposedly “shy” and “clumsy”, but in a cute, endearing way that only ever comes up when the plot asks for it. 

It’s frustrating, distracting, incredibly dull and at times downright insulting to the reader to encounter a story where one or more characters have a bad case of this, but unfortunately, it’s a pretty common weakness even in otherwise strong, well-written stories with interesting and complex character concepts. 

Since characters and how the reader feels about them (whether they are supposed to relate to them, look up to them or feel repulsed by them) can really make or break a story, informed traits are an easy trap to fall into and many a writer’s Achilles heel. 

So, how to avoid them?

This is where the trusty old “Show, don’t tell” comes in. You have most likely been told before that it’s usually better to go for subtlety and leave something to the reader’s imagination than to spell it out, and that is true. 

It’s challenging to imply something without outright saying it. You have to get creative with the details you want to put into your story to get a point across by relying on your audience’s ability to read between the lines, and while it’s absolutely worth it to go the extra mile, you also run the risk of making your narrative too stilted and contrived instead. 

However, there is a fairly simple trick to make your characterization feel more natural and insert it into the story smoothly:

Stop thinking of your characters as possessing certain traits and start thinking of their personalities as a collection of habits, preferences and specific abilities. 

It might not sound like that big of a difference, but it will make translating your character traits into text much, much easier and save you a lot of trouble while editing. 

Some examples:

  1.  A “smart” character

    This can mean a lot of things. You could have a character who is booksmart, learns quickly, reads a lot, can retain information easily and access it when needed, but has trouble applying theoretical knowledge in real life, someone who entertains their friends by telling them about weird facts and trivia, someone who can still recite poems they had to learn by heart when they were ten, someone with a tendency to talk in such complex run-on sentences they frequently forget what they were talking about half-way through. 
    Or you could have a character who is good at problem-solving instead, who likes puzzles and riddles, who gleefully obsesses over odd problems to find even odder solutions, but thinks so far out of the box in order to remain engaged in their current task they often miss the forest for the trees.  

  2. A “brave” character

    Try to instead make a character who can never resist a challenge, who is a thrill-seeker and went bungee jumping about a dozen times already, who enjoys dragging their friends on the most dangerous looking rides in an amusement park and endlessly teases them about how pale they went afterwards. Make someone who simply cannot stand by when they see someone else get bullied, someone with a collection of scars they wear proudly and a story to tell about each one.
      

  3. A “shy” character

    Forget about characters who blush prettily when spoken to and that’s it. Instead, write about a character who can’t make eye contact without forcing themselves to, who stumbles over their own words when talking to strangers, who is afraid of wearing bright colours because it might draw attention to them, someone who is humble and polite, but distant and comes across as cold or uncaring because they have tendency to hide their insecurity by retreating into themselves, even though seeming rude is the last thing on their mind.

Insert these habits into the story wherever they fit best. Be consistent in the portrayal of your character’s behaviour, even as character development kicks in. Adjust deliberately, but reasonably. After all, old habits die hard, so having your character break with one, however minor, can be a powerful moment with just as much emotional resonance as a flashy, dramatic scene meant to convey the same sentiment, and any “big” scenes will likely feel more organic if the reader has already seen traces of the necessary character changes before. 

“Stop thinking of your characters as possessing certain traits and start thinking of their personalities as a collection of habits, preferences and specific abilities.”