Monday, 31 March 2014

Market of Garz Isle

In Book 2 - Gemmy and Sem travel to Garz Isle for the summer. It's part of the 'young citizens' programme' that is supposed to get city kids out into the more rural territories of Garz. You can imagine that neither are that impressed.

Here's a written impression of the market in the town where they're sent to, Gaz City, the capitol of Garz Isle. It has a lot of character as it's a mish-mash of the humanek and Rhe'zan who originally inhabited the island. It makes me think of my visit to the souq in Marrakesh.

I could write these scene impressions forever but I try to keep them to two pages in my writing journal. They're pretty much scaffolding for the book - ie it's just for me to have in my head as I'm taking the characters through the places.

Enjoy the Gaz City market:

"Everything is a hazy yellow - the colour of sun-blinkered sand. Even the air smells of it - sand and heat and ocean breeze and fish - everywhere you go there is an underlying reek of fish. Some places it's more pervasive than others, but it is always there, like a memory.

"There is a large square. In the centre is a parched grand fountain, the statue atop it of some winged god. Most of the buildings are made of adobe and no more than two stories high save for the impressive state house with its third story, large dome and aviary. Their unpainted pale yellow façades hum in the sunlight. Those that are painted are brightly coloured - sky blue, white, buttercup yellow - like play things - sweet shops and bakeries all inviting the customer with their eye.

"Behind the line of respectable shops there is a market street. It is wide enough for a compliment of four elephants to march down side by side. It is crowded with makeshift shop fronts and market stall all selling unique items.There is a well worn path of packed clay that paves the market with a shallow gutter running it's length. It's collected the spoils and spills from the stalls and has a fetid reek that fades into the back of your consciousness the longer you stay. There's no hint of rain, only the a damp warmth that keeps everything coated in a thin film of moisture. It's hot and unpleasantly cramped despite its width, crowds jostling back and forth. It's the type of place you would fear pickpockets if thievers weren't so severely punished.

"The meaters, fishers, weavers and merchants of every type, reputable or not, create a tapestry of sounds and smells as they boost their wares. They stand on guard, swatting constantly at the flies. There are the tiny nits that are harmless but the larger blue flies hover and bite and must be kept at bay.

"Down an alley there is an overhead causeway that connects two buildings. The intersection of the buildings forms a small square of it's own - the wanders close - where sellers peddle charms of shells and polished stone, glass bottles filled with rotten liquids and animal limbs to hang 'round your neck for love or fertility. There's a powerful smell of something sweet - incense - flower petals mixed with the heavy musk of reed bark used to invite benevolent spirits. There are many closes here on this mile long market that encloses the main square. These are where the physics, mercenaries, toxickers and other non-prescriptive services huddle together, each their own unique bloom of scents adding to the already powerful bouquet of the market."






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Wednesday, 12 March 2014

Jungle book

No shock, book 2 is set on the island of Rheza, the wild country. That means, lots of jungle (no swinging on vines with monkeys, I promise) and Gemmy faces an even bigger problem with the landscape: humidity with curly hair!

When I need to get my head around scenery I do an exercise where I write a short story about the surroundings. I pretend I'm a ghost who's just woken up in this unfamiliar place. What do I see, hear, feels, smell (no, I'm not planning on tasting things in a strange landscape)? So, what does this jungle look like:

"Green everywhere. Trees taller than the largest city building. You can't even see the shape and size of the leaves, just a green sky with sun coloured stars. Large sheets of decaying leaves lay about in heaps of damp peat that reeks of rain and nascent soil. The tree roots grow like doorways creating palaces for beasts and spiders and water reserves. Jaggy loops pop up here and there reminding you not to spend too much time looking up.

Below the dense canopy there is space between tree trunks. Coiled vines hang between them like a network of wires, the trees talking to one another telling the news of the day.

Copses of smaller (twice the height of a person) hedge like trees grow thickly, with small dark green leaves and spines. Tiny birds flit between the branches - nest colonies like tower blocks, rival gangs fighting out in the open - carnivorous monkeys pick up the fallen wounded and feast. They howl in triumph as they collect the spoils of avian warfare.

A large plant spire rises in the distance, six metres high. The putrid stench reaches you from 1,000 paces. It is read and violent looking, swarming insects create traffic crawling in and out of the pucker at the top. When it blooms the jungle will be a graveyard. Towards its base the bud fades and sickly yellow-green flaps peel away, the years of the plant counted in discarded blooms - it's ancient. It reaches the ground in an explosion of wild twisting roots and large propeller shaped leaves.

Away, there is the soft cheep of frogs and the squawk and screech of birds invisibly high in the trees. The sound of running water is missed - there are no rivers here. But there are murky bogs that are feeding-grounds for reptiles, insects and small snuffling mammals that dig about for larvae - Pogos. They have small round bodies covered in wirey brown hair with green reticulated stripes. Their short legs barely hold them away from the ground. From their fat, smushed faces slinks a thick prehensile snout that swashes about in the mud, all the while their tiny greenish ears dart about from atop their head probing their surroundings for trouble.

Large plants crowd the jungle floor with leaves large enough for a child to lay on. They sweep the air on long stalks. Thin vines grow symbiotically using the leaves to send out pollen from their large pink flowers. On the petals there are pink frogs the size of a thumbnail. There is a barely visible diamond on their back traced with a thin line of brown. They hop away onto a leaf and their colour gently shifts to green. These are the edible male Warri Cane. On tree trunks sit the larger female counter parts, glowing with pride. Their toxic brown bodies boast a vicious yellow diamond with a blue iris - the eyes of the jungle."

Enjoy!


A quick sketch of some of the flora and fauna


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Monday, 10 March 2014

Mhetli more

He's back!

Celery head may have flown off into the distance at the end of book one but he doesn't stay gone for ever.

Mhetli comes back with a vendetta in book two. His hair's gotten longer and wilder but I considered giving him a more functional buzz cut. But, really, I can't resist the illustrative possibilities of long locks when he's in full on action mode.

You'll have to stay tuned to find out what his role will be in book two but you can bet there's going to be plenty of scuffling when he's around. Here are some quick sketches of the man himself.

Enjoy!

  


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