Books I Would Like to Write (But Probably Never Will): Part 2

Last month, we started reposting with permission a series of articles from Deborah’s blog about book ideas that she has had but is unable to write for one reason or another. In other words: here’s some inspiration free for the taking for any writer who’s interested!

This post is Part 2; you can read Part 1 here. Stay tuned for Part 3!

The World of Magic and Faerie
 
Swallowgate and Logic’s Emporium of Stolen Memories are in the same universe as each other, along with two others. One is Underground Highway 51, where you can find anything you’re looking for. I never even started this book, but you can see a reference to it in Swallowgate: it’s where Mort’s mother came from.
 
The other book, The Nightmare Children of Faerie, is finished. It’s just not good. I couldn’t make it be what I wanted it to be, and it’s in some ways derivative of other books. Since I created a proof copy to use to completely rewrite it, though, I do have a back cover summary:
 
“In the Land of Faerie, in the Kingdom of Nightmare . . .
 
“Something has gone very wrong. The entire country is fraying at the edges, and nightmares aren’t just being sent to Earth anymore; they’re also invading the land.
 
“In order to save not only the countries of Nightmare and Dream but all of Faerie, four siblings must discover first what’s happening and then how to fix it.”

The third country of Sleep, by the way, was the Sleep Sands: a massive desert where the sand men lived. I had thoughts at one point of writing another book in this country, about a sand man who fell in love with a human woman and kept coming to visit her as she slept, inadvertently sprinkling too much sand on her so that she was always sleepy. This final concept will be incorporated in some form into a sequel to The Land of the Purple Ring (if I ever write a sequel, which I don’t know).
 
 
The Merlinmobile
 
A man buys an old van, which is painted in wizardly swirls and stars, from a circus. He soon finds that when he drives it, he ends up driving into other worlds, where people come to him with their bizarre problems. He calls himself Merlin to these people, which he thinks is hilarious (and which his son thinks is “horribly embarrassing, Dad”).
 
 
Unsympathetic Magic

I wrote a short story with this title in my collection, The Day the Exclamation Marks Came, and I thought it had real potential. Ernest is an insurance collector in a world that is half-magical, half-not. He himself isn’t magical, except for the ability to see magical things. He is middle-aged, overweight, and not impressed by anyone and especially not by his partner (who is a comic foil, not a romantic interest). He is such a fun character to write. My plan was to have him get wrapped up in a murder mystery. But again, the story never got off the ground.
 

Night Castle
 
This is another book I wrote several quite solid chapters on, only to get stuck. It takes place in the Night Castle, a huge and extremely magical pyramid-like structure with a beating heart.
 
“The corridor lay empty and silent when they returned to it. As with all corridors in the Night Castle’s outer later, this one was dotted with windows tall enough to climb out of but no wider than a hand. When the sun angled just right, long narrow strips of light illuminated the hall and kept the opposite wall bathed in light. Between, above, and beneath each window twisted ivy, vibrant green and pulsing with life. That ivy didn’t grow in full sunlight, but one could find it everywhere else in the Night Castle, growing voraciously. Once in a while, it would become tangled and choke itself, and the Great Sorcerer or his apprentice would cut it back; but otherwise, they let it grow.”
 
Increasingly, magical monsters (based on viruses and bacteria) invade and have to be fought back in various epic action sequences by the Great Sorcerer. After his master is slain before him and he goes to extremes to save the Night Castle, Ezra becomes the new Great Sorcerer.
 
“The pain receded in an instant, and with it that deep knowledge. But he knew he could call upon it at any time—that he could call upon the Night Castle, and she would respond.
 
“The old Great Sorcerer was dead. He was Great Sorcerer now.
 
“And Vashti was coming for him.”
 
He succeeds, but in doing so becomes trapped and unable to help the Night Castle for a long time. When he escapes, he’s damaged and the Night Castle is overrun. Desperate for help, Ezra goes to find an apprentice, only to find that the overrunning of the Night Castle has bled out into the land, which is also having trouble with monsters that have evolved from the ones in the Night Castle.
 
One apprentice clearly won’t be enough, so Ezra brings in an entire class full, including our other protagonist, Asher. The Great Sorcerer’s special ability is to split himself into multiple selves (an ability somewhat damaged by his imprisonment), whereas Asher has some precognitive ability and ability to answer questions—which he sometimes has trouble expressing due to a stutter.
 
​
“I heard he sees visions,” Tevye went on. “That he can answer any question and can see past closed doors.”
 
“I hope,” Zephaniah threatened, “you aren’t attempting to blame my son for anything.”
 
“Who’s blaming him? I just want to know why he didn’t warn someone that this was going to happen.”
 
“He did warn someone,” Yiskah said, standing on his chair. “He warned us. It’s our fault we didn’t understand until it was too late. And we got there in time to help.”
 
“You got there in time to nearly get yourselves killed along with the rest of us!”
 
“Peace,” said Rabbi Henschel. He was the sort of person people listened to, and everyone turned to him. “Instead of blaming Asher, we should use his abilities. Asher, come here.”
 
Zephaniah pushed him forward, and he had no choice but to obey.
 
Henschel laid a companionable hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Tell us, Asher. That man who saved us. Is he really the Great Sorcerer?”
 
Asher looked around him, at the adults staring, waiting for his reply. His fingers felt numb. “I d-don’t know,” he whispered.
 
“You’re doing it wrong,” Benaiah said.
 
“You have to ask him where something is,” said Zephaniah’s head shop-assistant, who often asked just such questions. “Asher, where is the Great Sorcerer?”
 
“B-behind the walls of the Night Castle,” Asher said. “In a room-m without ceiling or floor.”
 
The townsfolk gasped at this and began to wonder. Many of them had not heard of Asher’s abilities, because they did not associate closely with day laborers or shop assistants. They had their pride.
 
“Now,” said the head shop assistant, “where is the man who saved us Wednesday from the ahemaitwu?”
 
“B-behind the walls of the Night Castle,” Asher said, knowing this was true. “In a room-m without ceiling or floor but with floating sparks like stars.”
 
​
Due to some misunderstandings and miscommunications, their relationship is initially awful; but through their mutual work on behalf of the Night Castle, they come to respect each other.
 
Several of the parts I’ve written could be easily turned into standalone short stories, so I might do that for a future collection of short stories.


​Part 3 of this series is coming next month!

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Deborah J. Natelson

​Deborah lives with a fluffy member of fauna named Flora. She is the author of Bargaining Power, The Land of the Purple Ring, The Midnight Files, and various other books under the name D.J. Natelson. Her author website is www.deborahjnatelson.com.