Warbreaker (85 page)

I want there to be a lot of different tones and feels to this book. It’s part of the theme of the novel—that of vibrant Hallandren and its many wonders. I want it to feel like a lot is going on, and that in different parts of the city, very different stories can be told.

The Origins of Siri and Vivenna

Back around the year 2000 or 2001 I started writing a book called
Mythwalker
. It was an epic fantasy novel, an attempt to go back to basics in the genre. I’d tried several genre-busting epics (one of which was
Elantris
) that focused on heroes who weren’t quite the standards of the genre. I avoided peasant boys, questing knights, or mysterious wizards. Instead I wrote books about a man thrown into a leper colony, or an evil missionary, or things like that.

I didn’t sell any of those books. (At least, not at first.) I was feeling discouraged, so I decided to write a book about a more standard fantasy character. A peasant boy who couldn’t do anything right, and who got caught up in something larger than himself and inherited an extremely powerful magic.

It was boring.

I just couldn’t write it. I ended up stopping about halfway through—it’s the only book of mine that I never finished writing. It sits on my hard drive, not even spellchecked, I think, half finished like a skyscraper whose builder ran out of funds.

One of the great things about Mythwalker, however, was one of the subplots—about a pair of cousins named Siri and Vivenna. They switched places because of a mix-up, and the wrong one ended up marrying the emperor.

My alpha readers really connected with this storyline. After I abandoned the project, I thought about what was successful about that aspect of the novel. In the end, I decided it was just the characters. They worked. This is odd because, in a way, they were archetypes themselves.

The story of the two princesses, along with the peasant/royalty swap, is an age-old fairy tale archetype. This is where I’d drawn the inspiration from for these two cousins. One wasn’t trained in the way of the nobility; she was a distant cousin and poor by comparison. The other was heir to her house and very important. I guess the idea of forcing them to switch places struck some very distinct chords in my readers.

Eventually, I decided that I wanted to tell their story, and they became the focus of a budding book in my mind. I made them sisters and got rid of the “accidental switch” plotline. (Originally, one had been sent by mistake, but they looked enough alike that nobody noticed. Siri kept quiet about it for reasons I can’t quite remember.) I took a few steps away from the fairy tale origins, but tried to preserve the aspects of their characters and identities that had worked so well with readers.

I’m not sure why using one archetype worked and the other didn’t. Maybe it was because the peasant boy story is
so
overtold in fantasy, and I just didn’t feel I could bring anything new to it. (At least not in that novel.) The two princesses concept isn’t used nearly as often. Or maybe it was just that with Siri and Vivenna I did what you’re supposed to—no matter what your inspiration, if you make the characters live and breathe, they will come alive on the page for the reader. Harry Potter is a very basic fantasy archetype—even a cliché—but those books are wonderful.

You have to do new things. I think that fantasy
needs
a lot more originality. However, not every aspect of the story needs to be completely new. Blend the familiar and the strange—the new and the archetypal. Sometimes it’s best to rely on the work that has come before. Sometimes you need to cast it aside.

I guess one of the big tricks to becoming a published author is learning when to do which.

Ramblemen

Ramblemen are more than simple traveling jugglers or storytellers. They’re merchants who specialize in bringing news (for a price) and stories as well as goods and services.

Readers latched onto this word, and I’ve had a lot of people say, “I love that term! Why don’t we get to see a rambleman in the book?”

Because some things in books are just there to hint at the greater world. Sometimes a keen, cool word like that can evoke so much more when used in passing than it would if developed into a side plot or attached to a character.

Idris’s Drabness

One thing to realize is that the Idrians’ attempts to make their city colorless are more superstition than they are effective. It’s much harder to get colors away from an Awakener than the Idrians think. For instance, black is one of the most powerful colors to use for fueling Awakening—but the Idrians don’t even consider it a color. Their browns and tans would also work for Awakening.

However, a lot of times, the traditions of a culture don’t have much to do with factual reality. The determination to avoid colors grew out of a desire to contrast with Hallandren and their devilish Awakeners. It got taken to the extreme, however, and as the centuries passed, the Idrians grew confused about just what Awakening is and what it can do. Of course, there are some who know—Hallandren isn’t
that
far away. But there’s also a lot of rumor and misinformation.

Mab the Cook

If it sounds to you like Mab knows a lot about Awakening and Hallandren, then you’ve picked up on something. Mab actually used to live in T’Telir. (She was born in Idris, but ran away during her teens.) During her twenties, she was a courtesan of some repute in the city. She had some fairly high-profile clients—so she was more than just a poor, street-corner prostitute. She fell in love with one of the men, however, and he convinced her to give him her Breath. Then he left her.

As a Drab, she had much more trouble finding work. She’d lost a bit of her sparkle, and whatever she’d used to capture the hearts of men, she’d lost that too. She ended up as a madam, running a much poorer whorehouse, using her old contacts and reputation to get clients.

As soon as she made enough, she bought another Breath and returned to Idris, where she got a job in the king’s kitchens. To this day, she bears a lot of ill will toward the Hallandren upper crust, and Awakeners in particular.

The King and Yarda Discuss Sending Vivenna

I go back and forth on this scene. Sometimes I think it’s too long. Other times I worry that it’s not long enough.

Through the history of the book, this particular scene inched longer and longer as I tried very hard to explain why a good man like Dedelin would send Siri to die in Hallandren. (And also, I wanted to be sure to explain why he was sure she would die there.) There’s a whole lot of setup going on in this sequence between the king and his general.

And I worry that there should be more. While what they do makes intrinsic sense to me, a lot of readers have been confused about the tactics here. Why is the king doing what he’s doing? Is it really needed? Isn’t there another way? This section is the only answer we get to a lot of those questions, since it’s the one and only scene in the book from Dedelin’s viewpoint.

That said, I think this scene might also be too long. The more space I dedicate to Dedelin, the more readers are going to think that he might be a main character. Some are surprised to read on and find out that the king doesn’t make another appearance in the novel. (Well, okay, he makes one more—but he doesn’t have a viewpoint.) I don’t want to put too much here or have readers focus too much on the tactics of his decision, since really all that matters is that readers understand that Siri has been sent unexpectedly to marry the God King.

I’m still iffy on the scene. Some test readers wanted to see the scene where Dedelin says farewell to Siri. (We skip it; the next scene begins with Siri riding away.) They feel they missed a chapter. But I eventually decided that I needed to keep this beginning flowing quickly, because the longer we spend in Idris, the longer it will take us to get to the real plots in Hallandren. If it weren’t so important to set up Siri and Vivenna ahead of time (so that their reversal has impact), I would have just started the book with Siri arriving in Hallandren.

Back to Chapter One

Annotations for Chapter Two

Siri Rides South, Stunned

Already, you should be able to see another tone shift in the book. We’ve gone from lazy highland romping to frustration and terror. My goal with this book was to keep that up—to always have things moving and the characters being pulled out of their comfortable lives into situations that force them to stretch.

One fun thing you can research yourself by looking at the first draft chapters of
Warbreaker
I posted. In them, I toyed with having Mab the cook be sent with Siri to be a lady’s maid.

I didn’t intend this while planning the book, but after writing Mab—and having so much fun with her character—I wanted to keep hold of her and let her add some color to Siri’s sections. However, I cut this idea out pretty quickly. (Though a draft of this chapter exists with Mab accompanying Siri—I think in that draft, Mab is the one Siri is complaining to, rather than the poor guard outside the window.)

Why cut Mab? Well, a couple of reasons. First off, Siri’s plotline was much more dramatic and emotional if she was forced to leave behind everything she’d known. Giving her a support character like Mab undermined Siri’s plot and growth as a character. Beyond that, Siri’s plots didn’t need more color. We’ve got plenty of interesting characters and experiences coming for her, so the addition of another character wasn’t needed.

I tried the chapter, but then realized that my original instincts had been right. I was forced to cut Mab out.

Character Shifts

This is a fun chapter, formatwise. It looks simple—we’ve got two alternating sequences with Siri and Vivenna. But what’s going on here is that I’m trying to pull the first of many reversals in this book.

A reversal is more than just a plot twist—it’s a swap. (Or at least that’s how I define it in my head.) Just like
Elantris
’s substructure was that of the chapter triads,
Warbreaker
’s substructure is that of reversals. People change places or do 180-degree turns. This presented a challenge to me, as I had to work hard to make such often-abrupt changes well foreshadowed and rational. That’s rather difficult to pull off. Most twists take characters in a slightly new direction; spinning them around completely required a lot more groundwork.

If you’ve read other annotations of mine, you’ll probably know that I love twists—but I love them only in that I love to make them work. A good twist has to be rational and unexpected at the same time. Pulling off that balance is one of the great pleasures in writing.

In this chapter, we have the beginnings of the first big reversal in this book. It’s more gradual—not an abrupt one-eighty, but a slow and purposeful one-eighty. But the seeds are here, even in this early chapter. If you look at it, we have this:

Scene One: Siri acts just like we expect Siri to. Blustering and emotional.

Scene Two: Vivenna acts just like we expect Vivenna to. Calm, rational, in control, and willing to do as she is told.

Scene Three: Siri grows calm, considers her situation with more care, and acts a little bit like a queen should in deciding to send her soldiers back.

Scene Three: Vivenna is very bothered by what is happening and acts just a little bit like Siri would—she decides upon a plan that is impetuous.

I’m very excited by the underlying structure of the chapter, even though I’m aware that most people probably wouldn’t be. I’m just a screwy author type. ;) I like how the changes are very subtle, and yet already there are hints at the way the characters are heading in life.

I like reversals and tone changes, but I still think that readers deserve to have an understanding of what the major plots and arcs for a character will be. There will be twists, but I don’t want to just twist needlessly or endlessly. The characters are the most important part of the story, and one thing I rarely twist (particularly late in a book) is a character’s personal arc. I keep personal arcs steady, as they’re the foundation of a reader’s attachment to the book.

Vivenna and Her Father Chat about Siri

King Dedelin does love Siri. He’s a good man, but not quite as great a man as his daughters probably think. He
does
put Vivenna first. He loves her more. Perhaps because he relates to her; the two of them are very similar in many ways.

The girls’ mother passed away over a decade ago, by the way, in a riding accident. Siri doesn’t remember it, but Vivenna does, and that is one of the sources of tension between them. Siri’s flagrant rides remind both Vivenna and her father of the way the queen died. Memory of their mother is also part of what makes Vivenna more controlled and “perfect.” Siri grew up with very little supervision, while Vivenna had much more of it in the person of her mother.

Anyway, Dedelin loves Vivenna more. When he says that he sent Siri, “Not because of personal preference, whatever people say,” he’s being truthful as he sees things—but he’s deluding himself. He’s convinced himself that he did it primarily because Vivenna’s leadership is important to Idris and she can’t be risked. That is important to him, true, but his love for Vivenna is the primary reason.

Now, he’s not callous or hateful of Siri. He loves her. But...well, Vivenna reminds him of his wife. I guess you can’t blame the guy too much for what he did.

Vivenna Picks Berries

One aspect of the worldbuilding I barely get to talk about is the Idrian monks. I really liked the concept of a group of monks whose duties weren’t very religious. Rather than sitting in a monastery all day, their duties are essentially to act as servants to the kingdom’s poor. (Not to say that monks in our world don’t do that. However, I liked the concept of it being much more formalized.)