#solomonschoice — Public Fediverse posts
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A snippet from my upcoming SOLOMON’S CHOICE, a science-fantasy novel
#wip #amwriting #sciencefantasy #vampiresandaliens #solomonschoice
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Don't worry, Sol. I think it's poetic, too. #amwriting #solomonschoice #createit22
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Two perfect naked people come bolting out of a room, skin glistening with sweat and magic. their ears are long and graceful like old videos of silk, and their faces are flushed and happy. Things jiggle most appealingly as they run past, laughing.
Surely, turning to stare would be… not right? #amwriting #solomonschoice
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Oh, Sol. You're just surrounded by assholes. There's nothing wrong with you. #amwriting #createit22 #solomonschoice #wip
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Weather migraine? Definitely approaching.
So I'm writing NOW. #amwriting #createit22 #cantstopme #solomonschoice
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I love this character. He's so messed up. #amwriting #solomonschoice
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“It is supposedly human.”
At that, I scoff. “No, it isn’t.”
“I did say supposedly, doctor,” says Notte, and I feel like there’s humor there, but I can’t get distracted about where it’s aimed.
“This isn’t human at all.” I point, annoyed that anyone would suppose this thing to be human. “Just look at those ventricles! Look at them!”
https://ruthannereid.com/writing/wip-solomons-choice-ravena-takes-a-look/
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“Not initially. I do plan to reinstate you to equality, someday; but to make such a move right away will infuriate those who already doubt me. It would be too dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” I bark laughter, harsh, acidic. “To acknowledge us as people? For gods’ sake, why?”
His smile is slow and creeping dark, a knowing thing, and I do not like it. “Because you are terrifying monsters.”
I stiffen in Terrance’s arms. “Now, wait a minute!”
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I want to believe him.
It would be so convenient, would it not? To believe this powerful being is on my side, to just look past the fact that we are food for them, that we provide husks for their reproductive purposes.
To ignore the reality that our home is dead, and we will be prisoners, for as long as humans shall live. “We wouldn’t be free here, would we?” I ask.
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“There was no hope for you,” he says softly. “No human would survive beyond that generation. It was…” He stops, closes his eyes, and something passes over his face.
Breeze moves through the garden, whispering, carrying things it has no right to do, and I feel, I *feel*, that he wept bitterly for us, and watched in helpless horror that no god-like being should ever know.
I can’t know that. How can I know that? Is it a trick? How can I *know* that?
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“When the Event happened, three hundred years ago - ”
“The Flare?”
“Those here call it the Event,” he says, and frowns. A tiny frown, the tiniest re-angling of his lips, but I feel the weight of it. “It lessens the horror for them. Truly, I do not find ‘Flare’ shocking enough, but ‘Event’ is hardly better. I personally would have preferred something along the lines of ‘Catastrophe,’ but the nomenclature has stuck.”
I agree. *Catastrophe* would be far better. #amwriting #solomonschoice #wip
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A knock at the door.
Oh, let’s see. It could be an albino elf doctor who does things to me without my permission.
It could be an ancient orange vampire with weird Irish murders and accented dry humor.
It could be the god of nightmares and blood, out of patience for my strange self.
…or it could be two people I’ve never met, smiling as though I'm the answer to every question they’ve ever had.
“The Iskinder,” they hiss, and I very quickly shut the door.
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What's the essence of your book, they say?
“What if it killed you?” says Terrance. “Are you fucking crazy?”
“No, I am a /scientist/.”#solomonschoice #wip #amwriting
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“We're baiting them? What if they attack us?”
“Then I’ll fucking rip them to shreds,” he says between clenched teeth, and suddenly he is terrifying, suddenly a monster peers out between his lids, suddenly he isn’t the Terrance I’d fooled myself into thinking I was coming to know.
And just as suddenly, he puts it away.
“I feel you ought to be made aware that I cannot fight." I sound desperate because I am.
“I didn’t expect you to do the fighting, boffin.”
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#WritingWonders day 19: Describe your favorite side character and their relationship with your MC.
Well, that would be Terrance.
He's a vampire, one of the Night-Children, but in a unique position: he's the assassin. The deadly hand of Notte, Father of all.
Terrance is the only one allowed to kill without permission.
Irish, made in the 1400s. Tall and rangy, very orange. Good sense of humor; too dark at times.
Eventually one of Sol's lovers, which ends up saving his life. #solomonschoice
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#WritingWonders day 18: What are some of your MC's core values?
He's desperate to save everyone.
He wouldn't phrase it that way at first. /Save humanity from extinction/ is the beginning; but by "human," he means "people," and he eventually realizes that monsters are, in fact, very much people.
By the end, his whole thing is saving everyone he can. Blinders on, bull-headed, skilled but over-focused. Definitely needs help to keep from going overboard - but honest, nonetheless. #solomonschoice
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#WritingWonders day 17: what's a typical meal for your MC?
Well, he grew up on nutrition pellets, provided by the Fey, pretty much devoid of flavor. He knew strawberries were nice, having had a taste for his twelfth birthday.
Now? His favorite is beef stew. It was the first "real" food he ever tasted, and the emotion connected to it goes far beyond the mere (though awesome) flavor. #solomonschoice
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“We’re not gonna do anything stupid. If they know we know, they’ll hide better, and I’d rather keep an eye on ‘em, see what they do. Get it?”
“What, we’re… baiting them? What if they attack us?”
“Then I’ll fucking rip them to shreds,” he says between clenched teeth and suddenly he is terrifying, suddenly a monster peers out between his lids, suddenly he isn’t the Terrance I’d fooled myself into thinking I was coming to know.
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“You will not find another among the Mythos who cares for your kind as people, rather than fodder,” he says.
Oh, sure, yes, how could I possibly disagree with that, when surely his reasons for wanting the same thing must come secondary to the fact that we both want us to survive?
Because he wants us as prey!
Yet is prey better than extinction?
Or is extinction better than prey?
This way madness lies.
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#WritingWonders day 16: what does your MC find fun?
Unraveling things.
Sol loves to know HOW things work, and why. His absolute favorite activity in the world is figuring out the answers to those two questions.
And yes, this applies to the people he loves, too. #solomonschoice
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#WritingWonders day 15: How does your MC feel around other people?
Poor guy. Sol is MISERABLE.
He's neurodivergent in a harsh and unforgiving future; nobody around him understands what's going on with him. He's been told he's "broken" his whole life.
The ability of his found family to understand him and be understood by him is one of the key heart-strings of this book. #solomonschoice
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#WritingWonders day 14: Does your MC show their true self or others, or wear a mask?
Sol is neurodivergent. Humans are going extinct; "different" is hated.
He'd do anything to pull off some kind of mask, to hide better, but he's never been able. Just learning how to read expressions and give appropriate responses takes all of his resources.
This is why his new, found family is so important - they understand him clearly, without him having to pretend to be "like" anyone else. #solomonschoice
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#WritingWonders day 13: Where does your MC feel the most comfortable?
For Sol, it's a who more than a where. As long as he's with the people who become his found family, his lovers, his safe places, he doesn't really care what the physical location is. #solomonschoice
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#WritingWonders day 12: What do your MC (Sol) and antagonist have in common?
They are both obsessed with a particular, unique, and ancient family, whose magical roots are lost to time.
Or so Sol's been told. #solomonschoice
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#WritingWonders day 11: introduce your antagonist.
Oh, but that's spoiler territory. ;) I'll say this:
It's not who everyone thinks. It's not who Sol thinks.
And what that someone wants is so shocking, so completely insane, that nobody considers it a possibility until it's too late. #solomonschoice
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He towers over me. His smell is amazing, impossible to place. Smoky. Herby. Unbidden, I get images of fires in dark places, of incense thrown in for mysterious purposes, of sensuality in the dark.
“Hello, little human,” he says. “Don’t be afraid.”
“That is usually the worst thing to tell someone when they're afraid,” I say.
“Not a bad point. What would you like to hear instead?” he says with a slow smile as syrupy as what I just drank.
https://ruthannereid.com/writing/wip-solomons-choice-bran-says-hello/
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"Be sure to take a digestive serum as well, when you get the chance," says the doctor.
“Digestive serum?” I’ve decided I like speaking from under the pillow. I can’t see them, but they also can’t see me. No facial expressions to parse or perform. It’s quite nice.
“Yes. Food here is... different. If you wish to avoid indigestion, I advise you to take it. Well, good luck! I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”
I only know they’re gone when the door closes softly.
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He fills me, surrounds, nestles my mind like a jewel in cotton.
“The magical world fears you quite a lot. Do you enjoy being feared, Sol?”
“What a horrible thought. Ugh, no.”
“You do not want to be feared?”
“Who wants to be feared? That’s foolish.”
“Why foolish?”
I want him to talk to me forever (Me? Who is me? I can’t even feel a me, just him). “Because if they’re afraid of you, they hate you, and if they hate you, they hurt you. I don’t like that.”
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"If you truly present no danger to my family and to the denizens of this world, then you will give me permission to look within you and see for myself.”
“I - ” Again, he’s asking permission. Why? Why? “If you really want to know, why haven’t you done it already?”
“I treat even my enemies with respect, Doctor Iskinder. It is why my word is trusted throughout the Seven Peoples.”
This is insane. Madness. This is a mountain giving a damn about a leaf.
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"I am He Who Walks Unhindered," Notte says, a sweet tenor tone.
The room, echoes, rumbles.
"I am Naktam, Night, the Dark One, the Night-King and Nox Aeterna. I am the King of Blood and Lord of the Night Whispers. I am The Mortal’s Doom.”