A blog devoted to my musings, ramblings, thoughts and worries about writing. As iron sharpens iron, so does one man sharpen another - and so does one writer make another writer better.


Sunday, October 18, 2009

Minor changes which few will notice

But which needed to be made anyway, if only for the sake of my satisfaction.

The changes in question were made to The Lady's Guardian (and, no, you are quite right to notice I have still not written anything more on A Life Among Dragons!) and were very minor and technical in nature. Before I talk about why I made them (and why those reasons are slightly hypocritical, and even inexplicable - which is the main theme and reason for this post) it would be best to say what those changes are.

Firstly, I removed and replaced all references to "credits" (as in, Imperial Credits, which was the name I'd given to the currency used in the Holy Roman Empire). I changed the name to Euros, and also tightened up references to the physical coinage used; coins are mentioned, and so are "chips", which I imagined to be hard-to-forge electronic data storage devices.

Why did I abandon "credits" as a name? Well, it's pretty obvious. Credits is the default name for "future currency", and MechKnight is not a default sci-fi story! Secondly, "credits" implies, well, credit - that is, cash which is not "real", or at least not as honest. Names mean something, and few people would put their trust in a currency whose very name suggests the people trading in it don't have the reserves to back up their purchases, and are in fact borrowing! Even if this is not the case, the implications would be financially damaging.

It is economically unrealistic to use the term credits. It is also historically unrealistic to use a term which has never been used before in a near-future setting. Although the Holy Roman Empire and the European Union are very different political entities, the former most likely grew out of the latter, and a currency whose name suggests unity would be a powerful force.

The other change I made was clarification of some technical issues - especially concerning nuclear reactors. The initial "research" (that word used under advisement) I did was cursory at best; I was remembering things I had read many years before. I had confused the notion of a nuclear moderator (which turns fast neutrons into thermal neutrons) with the nuclear poisons used in control rods (which traps neutrons and moderate the reaction). Bottom line? Control rods are not made of graphite carbon - and a marine-style nuclear reactor (such as would be found in a machina) is likely to be a PWR, not graphite moderated.

The research was interesting - very much so - but only required minor changes to the piece itself. A few words were deleted, a couple of replacements made, a description clarified here or there.

It would be technologically unrealistic to not make the changes.

That is what I did - now to the why.

These changes are, to be sure, very minor indeed. Most people will not notice the improved realism (and those who did notice would either not care, or would remark it still remains unrealistic). However, I still make them - because, in certain respects, realism is king.

In other respects, however, he is the pauper at the gate barely worth spitting on.

It is an axiom of writing that readers will accept the improbable before the unlikely. A universe where battles are settled by two champions playing chess with holographic warriors the size of skyscrapers will be accepted without qualm ... provided there are only two rooks, two knights and two bishops on each side. If the writer seems to be ignorant of the rules of chess (rather than having deliberately changed them) the reader is disappointed - even though a change in the rules of chess is much more likely than the holographic warrior scenario.

As anyone who has read any of my stories will know, I tend to treat realism with contempt - even basic laws of the universe are shattered and sacrificed on the altar of the Rule of Cool. I have teenage females capable of lifting warriors in one hand, young boys who can wrestle wolves and win .... and yet I edit my story to have more technical precision concerning nuclear reactors? I edit it even though no-one had pointed out a flaw, and few people would notice the difference?

I am not sure I can adequately explain it, but perhaps you can at least understand. Writers earn the right to break the laws of reality (or, to put it another way, they buy willing suspension of disbelief) precisely by adhering to the laws of reality - or at least realism. If you, as I did, describe Grosvenor Square perfectly, people will be more willing to allow for cybernetic squids floating around there.

Today's lesson? Everything which does not absolutely have to be unrealistic for a plot reason should always be as realistic as possible. Do your research!

Friday, October 9, 2009

Less Than Three Pages of 10pt Font

After a lull of some quite considerable time (over a year, in fact!) I have updated The Redemption of Sulva. The update takes the form of not one, but two new chapters - one of which is an "Interlude" between segments of the story, bridging the time-jumps of the tale.

The interlude was one of the more "fun" chapters to write - it is written from a very liberal, anti-Christian perspective, using all the tricks and traps common to such things. But, it is condensed into less than three pages of 10pt font - this is not a long, involved, subtle exercise in changing people's minds over long years. This is a distillation of the method to a single, dramatic, epistle for narrative effect.

The first review I received for the interlude fills me with . . . unsurprised despair. An edited excerpt is below;

I do agree with some points that Susan has made here but the very first thing that jumped into my head as I read this was that she was channeling Narnia in some unconscious way.

Her view that women should be as equal as men seems to stem from the way life was in Narnia; she was Queen and was equal in power and authority as her brothers. I am reminded of the scene in "King Edmund's Crusade" where the General and the guards wanted to shelter Susan when their enemies were about ready to invade the Cair. But she exercised her right and despite being the Gentle queen, she chose instead to fight with her people, and enlisting whatever help she could to protect the city and castle, be they experienced soldiers or the general castle staff and servants.

And with her call out to men and women to join her in *this* crusade, it is almost as if it was Narnia and Queen Susan was saying that both males and females (should) have equal rights in *her* country.

Now this response (minus, obviously, the link to Narnia) is precisely the response Susan wants "in story"; she wants a positive response, a "yes, I agree with this - this is logical and reasonable and, damnit, why haven't we had the same rights for both genders?" But, that is not the response I expected.

There are some fairly obvious reasons why I did not expect this response. First and foremost, this entire interlude (and, please, read it to better understand - it is, as I say, less than three pages at 10pt font) is written in a gradually increasing crescendo of pure, raw liberalism, which culminates in the advocation of wholesale access to abortion. This is such a different position and tone from the rest of the work that the juxtaposition alone should be stunning. Added to the fact the heroine of the tale has been shown to hold precisely the opposite views and the character writing these words has dismounted her own sister's brain from its skull and placed it in a metal box, not to mention worked with demonic werewolves, the average reader should be approaching this interlude with a degree of suspicion.

The only reason, I would have thought, Susan Pevensie could get away with such raw evil in her column in the Times is because she has had nearly a decade to gradually influence the society, so it reaches a point where the unreasonableness seems reasonable. Nine years is a long time - the people voting and making the choices were mere children when she first came to power. Those just on the cusp of adulthood when she assumed power have known nothing but her and their children have been educated entirely by her academies and with her values. The people she is writing for are primed to receive this. I kind of hoped real world individuals - my readers - were not.

And Susan's words only find fertile ears because the people do not know the truth - they do not know about the werewolves, and the massacres, and the witchcraft, and the horror and the medical experiments. The readers do know these things, and so should approach what she says with caution.

In this one review, the reader did not. Admittedly, one review is not a conclusive sample (and, nor has this pattern been repeated). It is exceptionally interesting there is nothing in the review saying Susan's words are wrong. It is all simply and casually accepted - in less than three pages of 10pt font.

This is either a testament to my skill as a writer or, more likely, a testament to the power of the grand liberal plan to destroy traditional morality. A reader and reviewer of the C.S.Lewis section (traditionally a haven for those with vaguely traditional morality, excepting the slash) finds nothing which she wants to object to in a plan to basically destroy the family and legalize murder. A plan which is presented in an obvious and brutal fashion in less than three pages of 10pt font and which does not really attempt to hide its depravity.

I think I may very well have to revise my expectations of readers in the future - which is, I suppose, the moral of this tale. As authors, we need to be aware of who we are writing for, and either revise our expectations to fit the real world, or accept a truncation of effective audience.

What do I mean by that? In this example, I intended this interlude to find an audience who responded with horror at the ideas presented, or at least saw them as opposed to the tone and purpose of the rest of the story. And, to be honest, it has found such an audience with other reviewers. What I did not expect, at all, was reviewers to respond positively to the ideas contained in the interlude, and fail to mention the ideas were opposed to the rest of the work. Essentially, I expected people to notice this interlude did not "fit". And by "people" I do mean everyone - I thought it was relatively obvious.

So, what are my choices - and yours, as a fellow-writer? Well, you could revise your expectations, or even revise your work. If we expect a piece of work to be understood in a particular way we could make it more obvious, telegraphing everything of importance. The line "... a editorial in the Times of London condemned by the Catholic Church as anti-family" would have made it more obvious - but, I feel, too obvious.

Or, we can accept a truncation of effective audience - which means we do not write for everyone, but instead write work which only a small number will get. We do not deliberately write complex tales, but when they prove too complex we accept this. Essentially, as an author, you shrug and move on, accepting your story cannot be liked or even appreciated by everyone.

Your choice may differ from mine, but I think I will take the latter - it does, after all, require less work on my behalf.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Why Cath is well out of your league

I have not made a post here for some time, nor have I really written anything for a long time - I have been concentrating on other projects. Still, I have something to say and so I am saying it.

Recently, Cath received a one-line review for one of her pieces of work. In this review, the reviewer (and I use all terms deriving from the head-word review under advisement, you understand) quoted a line of dialog and expressed disagreement with the sentiment it implied. That was all there was to the review.

In Cath's story, a character asked a question ("Is that why you didn't pursue anything more than literature?") which could be interpreted as saying literature is not a worthwhile field of study. The reviewer quoted this and responded by saying "I happen to think that literature is a very great and important subject to pursue, thank you very much."

This is, in almost every single way, an example of what a review should not be. The only positive thing which can be said for it is its possession of decent grammar and spelling. But, that is hardly a positive - that is, at best, merely not a negative.

It is too short to be truly substantial. The subject is not substantive. It does not, in fact, address the content of the story. It also fails to offer a reason for the opinion (an opinion, lest we forget, which is not about the story but rather something contained within the story).

This is, in fact, pretty much a flame.

I have always defined a flame as a review which does not address the story, and instead addresses the author. There are, of course, by this definition negative and positive flames; saying "You are my favorite author ever!" without talking about the story is not really a review. It is simply gushing over the person - probably because of their skills as an author, but that is never made clear.

What am I saying here? Reviews must speak about the story, not about anything else.

This review infers from the piece of dialog that someone thinks literature is not a worthwhile field of study. That is not a bad inference, actually. But the review (which, because of the "I happen to think .... thank you very much" construction is snappy and snotty) is directed at the author. There is no other conclusion to draw - the reviewer is writing to the author, and never prefaces her comment with, "Well, I would tell this character that I happen to think that . . ."

Really, reviews (unless they are the kind of silly, entertaining reviews I give to stories like Mel's "The Adventures of the FanFiction Fellowship") should never be directed at anyone other than the author. And they should never discuss anything except the story itself - certainly never discuss issues raised by the story except as they apply to the way the story is told.

Your job as a reviewer is to review the story, not the actions of the characters or - Heaven forbid - the opinions of the author. This is why this post is called "Why Cath is well out of your league" - we are all out of your league, and you are out of mine. The assumption that a point of view expressed by a character is shared by the author is idiotic and impolite. You do not know which, if any, of the character's viewpoints is shared by the author. Probably none of them are in their entirety.

We should simply never review the author, but always the story. It is perfectly acceptable to say "I find myself unable to relate to this character because his views are so opposite to mine, and they seem to ill-informed", but it is never acceptable to say (or imply) "Your views are wrong, author!" The author's views might be wrong - but you don't know what they are!

Does anyone really think I am foolish enough to tell people my honest opinions in a story? All people know of me is the dialog put in the mouths of Catholic mercenaries and 40-something millionaire mothers.

Actually, those two examples raise a very important point - the idea of the narrator's voice. There are always many "voices" in a piece of work with multiple characters. Virtually every character gets some lines of dialog, and from that the reader can interpret the characters' motivations and personality. If the author is skilled, the reader can also get a sense of what the characters are trying to project and what they are trying to hide.

Additionally, most characters get sections of the story written "from their perspective" - either in the first person or as a third person technique which tells us much of their thoughts, feelings and internal geography. These all provide a "voice" for each character. This is what the line quoted in the review was - it was spoken in the voice of the character, and certainly cannot be assumed to be the voice of the author.

But there is the narrative voice. Not in a first person story, where the narrator is a character in the story and therefore definitely separate from the author, but other narratives; isn't it fair to say the purely narrative voice, the voice from whose perspective the story is told when it is not told from a character's, is the author's?

No, it is not. The author's voice is always silent in a story. Always. You never, ever hear it - what you hear is the narrative or narrator's voice. It may be that these voices are virtually identical - but you would never know. It may be the opinions of the author are identical to those expressed by the narrative, but most often there is significant divergence.

This is an important thing to remember - a story is an artificially constructed thing. The author creates dialog and personality and points of view for many different characters - including the narrator. The narrator is not him; it is a vehicle to tell the tale.

And so this is why we should never do what this literature major did - not only because the single line review which gets offended and huffy is bad practice, but also because it is simply dishonest and not valuable. Comment on the story, not on the author - because you only know what the author chooses to tell you, and he is telling you a story, not about himself.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

The New Normal

A long time away from this blog, and from writing in general. I actually have a long list of updates I need to make to the Gwethil website (new stories, new characters, and so forth) which have built up. I've been concentrating on other things, including my modelling and painting of toy soldiers. Still, a new story from Mercury Gray (a story I have not read) inspired me to write this blog entry.

If I haven't read the story, then how can I comment on it? Well, I am commenting on the summary - and on what the summary says about the world. Here is the summary in question;

Harry returns to Hogwarts to collect his children after another year at school, and conclude a bit of unfinished business with the dead. Post-Epilogue, Non-slash.

I think it should be obvious what I am talking about here - Mercury (who is an experienced author) realizes she needs to write "non-slash" in the summary of a Harry Potter fanfic, presumably because otherwise people will think it is slash. The conclusion is obvious; stories involving non-canonical, out of character homosexual relationships are the normal, default for Harry Potter fanfiction, and those which are not slash need to be flagged as such.

This is a very disturbing development. Not simply from a moral perspective (although that too) but rather from a literary perspective. Harry Potter contains no homosexual references (the "outing" of Dumbledore was criticised because it came without any foundation in the narrative itself) and while it would be foolish to suggest there are no homosexuals in the Harry Potter universe, it is certainly the case that the main characters are, firstly, not homosexual and, secondly, not in homosexual relationships with each other.

So, the prevalence of slash in Harry Potter (and in other genres, such as Narnia and Tolkien) fanfiction is disturbing because it speaks of a complete lack of respect for the source material and the defined characters. This is something I have always been aware of, and have always maintained that slash is simply disrespectful to the original authors because it radically changes the personalities of the original characters, and does so simply to tell a selfish, indulgent story. Mercury has spoken of slash being a method for female authors to reclaim agency, but I tend to dismiss this as justification for an abhorrent practice.

In any case, the presence of slash is not what I am most shocked by - it is the prevalence of it, the assumed normalcy of slash which means Mercury feels she has to flag her story as "non-slash". In a summary, we should only mark what is abnormal, not what is expected. So, in a Narnia fanfiction, we should not have to write "Peter and Susan are brother and sister" but we should have to write "In this story, Edmund is blind".

I am very disturbed by the normalizing of slash, and not simply from a moral perspective. I am concerned because this may limit those writing fanfiction in the future - are we moving towards a point where all fanfiction is expected to be slash, or something similar? Will authors shy away from creating unseen scenes, future explorations, backstories and so forth because they think all fanfiction should be slash?

And also; when the Hell did the homosexual become so normal?

Saturday, July 18, 2009

New Blog!

This is not something directly-related to writing (hence the new blog) but it is tangentially-related (hence this advertising post).

I am not just an amateur writer. I also like to build and paint model kits. And so I have brought these two things together in creating a model of Maugrim, the wolf-machina from the MechKnight stories.

As an exercise in trying to keep my attention and interest on this project I will be posting updates on my progress in a new blog. And you can visit said new blog by clicking this increasingly long link. Clicking it indeed with your mouse.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

So It Begins ... Again

New story from Morohtar,

Category: Sci-Fi
Title: MechKnight : A Life Among Dragons vol 1
Genre: Romance/Spiritual
Rating: Fiction Rated: T
Summary: The second in the MechKnight series. Excerpts from the memoir of Monica Hunyadi, telling the story of her life in an alternate future Europe dominated by a Catholic Roman Empire and humanoid fighting engines

URL:
http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2692694/1/

Thank you all for your support, feedback and comments regarding the replacement for Letters To Saint Catherine. The choice has now been made - the replacement was, is, and will be A Life Among Dragons (technically speaking, the complete title is "Excerpts from A Life Among Dragons the memoir of Monica Hunyadi", but that is perhaps irrelevant).

Or perhaps not, for the title clearly denotes the conceit of this piece; the published piece of work in this universe claims to be an accurate reproduction of a published work in the MechKnight universe, which itself is a collection of excerpts from a larger (unpublished work). This was the conceit of the original Letters to Saint Catherine, but what the larger work is differs between them.

This form of first-person narrative (or, at least, the conceit given to this form) has a number of clear, concrete advantages. The first is the presence (or possible presence, at least) of an intrusive editor character. Such a character can be used to provide glosses and explanations of concepts which the narrator might not see fit to explain, but which the audience needs explaining. Secondly, the editor character can add verisimilitude to the piece by offering corrections of the narrator's recollections (you can give [sic] a substantial workout!)

Secondly, the "collection of excerpts" conceit allows you as the author to simply not report on dull events, or events which are covered by some other work. The editor simply chooses not to include them in the published version.

So, if this conceit is so useful, why did I need to scrap Letters to Saint Catherine? Well, it wasn't because of the conceit - it was because of the central theme of the original work.

As I mentioned before, the immediacy of the epistolary journal has problems associated with it. And so A Life Among Dragons is not a journal, but rather a formalized memoir. It is made different to the memoir written by Vladimir Hunyadi in that it is written under obedience when Monica takes the veil, very shortly after the death of her husband. Vladimir was writing an entertaining tale (or, rather, series of them) for the sake of a tale. Monica is writing a memoir because she is told to - and she is being told to in order to preserve what only she remembers.

So, the styles of these two memoirs are subtly different. Vlad is writing his while Monica is still alive, and so his views of her are colored with current love, while Monica is writing within grief that is still fresh and so her views of Vlad are sad and wistful. Monica is also a more sophisticated character, more intelligent and better-read, and with a greater understanding of politics. She is a darker, more urbane, more seductive personality and (hopefully) the memoir will reflect that.

In any case, I am much happier with A Life Among Dragons than Letters to Saint Catherine, and I hope to have several chapters written over the next few days. Reviews and / or comments are greatly appreciated.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Writing Mythological Creatures

It struck me that I have, in fact, written various essays and forum posts which constitute writing advice, presented in a formalized, general style rather than the usual format of these blog posts. I don't want to change my style of these posts (a more organic, discussion-like tone which I enjoy) but, equally, publishing these essays etc. would be nice. Accordingly, I reproduce the first of these essays here. It is called Writing Mythological Creatures and was written for the Narnia FanFiction Revolution website. The advice in this essay is directed specifically at creating Narnian mythological creatures (such as Dwarfs, Centaurs etc.) but can be applied to many different fantasy and sci-fi scenarios.

Writing Mythological Creatures

This essay shares some of the methods I use for creating non-human characters in Narnia stories and making them seem real and plausible. These techniques really a series of questions you ask yourself; the answers tell you how to write the character!

Physicality

Begin with the physicality of the character; what does he look like? How big is he, how strong? Does he have special features which humans don't have (wings, claws) or does he lack something humans do (hands, or binocular vision)? Does he live in an environment we don't (flying in the air, swimming in the sea)? Most importantly, what are his senses like in comparison to ours?

These details are not too hard to come by – for Talking Animals get a good encyclopedia and read the relevant entry. A visit to a zoo or looking at pets can help too. You don't have to stick perfectly to biological facts – but if you change too many details the audience might become confused.

For fantastical creatures you can make everything up from your imagination. A Gryphon is half-lion, half-eagle; can it see as well as an eagle and smell as well as a lion? You don't have a totally free hand here; readers will react to something that seems “wrong” even if they can't say why. Make sure that your creature “feels” like it belongs in Narnia.

Physical differences are the first thing most people notice; having a good understanding of them is essential. It will also help provide many answers for later questions.

Personality

Personality is often set by the genre – Lewis tells us Marshwiggles are grumpy and morose, for example – or by general audience expectation. We expect wolves to be cruel and savage, cats to be sophisticated and sarcastic, Dwarfs to be gruff and dour, etc. You're not straitjacketed to a personality, but moving too far away might confuse readers. A soft and cuddly wolf who loves bunnies will be comedic rather than serious, but a noble wolf who is a good fighter and brave is a good interpretation of the traditional “cruel wolf”.

Consider how intelligent and knowledgeable the character is. This is often dictated by the needs of the story. A Minotaur general will be cleverer than a Minotaur footsoldier, and his personality might be calmer and more calculating (rather than simply violent and angry). A Talking Lion who is a courtier will be more sophisticated and intelligent than one who is a scout, but the scout will know a lot more about the wild. It might even be that the scout is jealous or has some reverse snobbery of the courtier, thinking “he's not a proper lion”.

Decide on these details, but don't get too bogged down in them, especially for a walk-on character. A general tone is all that's needed to answer other questions.

Views of the World

This is perhaps the most important aspect of the character, and where most people get it wrong. It is easy to know a wolf is basically a big dog and the Chief of the Secret Police is cruel and violent, but he is just a human bully with fur and a tail if you don't get inside his head and think like he thinks. This is where how the character views the world is relevant.

What does this mean? Creatures look at the world differently because they are different. A Giant has a totally different sense of scale to a human (Giant Rumblebuffin being the classic example.) To a flying creature the idea of motion is very different to a human's. A creature which is a predator may see smaller creatures as potential food. In “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader” Lucy speculates about the sea-people who look at the mountains as we do the valleys and vice-versa.

An important aspect of worldview is the creature's senses; what they see, smell and hear. Wolves and big cats will be able to smell far more than we can, and they can also see in the dark. Bats can “see” using sonar even in pitch blackness. Some creatures lack a particular sense (or it is so poor it is next to useless – such as virtually-blind moles) or might have a sense we simply don't understand (some creatures can “sense” which way is north).

Another component of worldview is how things are normally done. Creatures (both human and otherwise) assume the way they do things is the normal way, and that everything does it that way unless told otherwise. Wolves hang around in packs and all know their places in the pack instinctively, dominating those below them and being dominated by those above. A creature which mates for life will assume all other creatures mate for life. A creature who attracts mates with impressive feathers and colorful displays will assume other creatures do the same.

How do you bring this into your writing? Whenever you describe something from the point of view of a non-human, consider not only what he is aware of (a wolf sees in black and white and so won't notice subtle shades of color, but has a fantastic sense of smell and will notice amazingly faint scents) but also what his opinion is of it (a wolf would know by scent everyone who had been in the room, but might only really care about packmates, especially those above him in the hierarchy).

When a non-human is presented with human customs and practices, consider what these look like to him and how he interprets them. In extreme cases, severe confusion might arise. For example, a stag grows antlers when mature. A stag who is unfamiliar with humans might assume that all humans are juveniles and treat them as such because they don't have antlers. A wolf or cat might see a smile as an unfriendly action (because it bares the teeth) and view a human kiss as a violent act. A person smiling at Queen Susan and kissing her hand could look very different to a wolf.

Bear these details in mind when writing scenes with a non-human. Use as little or as much of them as you like – it might be that the non-human has lived with humans for a long time and is familiar with the way humans do things. Of course, that doesn't mean he won't do them differently – or that humans won't look at what he does differently, too!

Remember a non-human's senses are normal for him – so he won't be amazed by his ability to smell or see or hear. It is also worth spending some time thinking about just how particular senses would feel – what would it be like being able to tell who someone was, how old they were, if they were hurt or frightened, simply from their smell left somewhere? How might that change how you acted?

Actions and Behavior

Most stories are descriptions of characters doing things, non-humans do them differently. You've thought about how non-humans see the world, now consider how they interact with it.

What does a non-human do? A lot of inspiration for this will come from the earlier research into the physicality of the creature. Wolves live in dens and mark their territory with urine, cats clean themselves with their tongues, beavers build dams. Depending on how “human” you want to make a Talking Animal, you might miss some of these things out – perhaps your wolves won't “mark” Cair Paravel! Some behaviors can be changed into something more “civilized”; cats might scent-mark with artificial perfumes.

You are creating a mythological creature, not a National Geographic special, so consider things that aren't just lifted from biology textbooks. What does a Centaur book look like – it is like a human book, or is it different? Perhaps it is much larger and heavier (because they are bigger and stronger) and made of inscribed metal plates (so it lasts longer)? How do Marshwiggles write? (in one of my stories they had dried-mud tablets they wrote on.) Do wolves decorate their bodies with tattoos and scars and dyed fur? Would cats wear jewelery? What would a Dwarfish house look like?

To answer these questions draw inspiration from the original books and your own imagination, but always try to link it to what you've already decided about the character and his race. Talking Leopards having a mud-wrestling contest doesn't make sense (but Talking Hippos might do that!) Similarly, Talking Cheetahs could have races to decide who is in charge and gets to issue orders.

A word of warning; unless the fantasy race is the focus of the story, don't go too deep into “race building”. It is distracting detail and might bore the reader. It's okay to work out exactly how your tribe of Black Dwarfs chooses their leaders, what the number of knots in their beards means, and just which nobles are allowed to wear fur – but if there is only one Black Dwarf in the story then putting pages of anthropology (or Dwarfopology!) in there will be dull and out of place. Having said all that, knowing the background will help you make even single characters very realistic.

What some creatures do might be misinterpreted or be very offensive to humans; wolves snap and snarl a lot to establish dominance and do it with virtually everyone. Wolves also regurgitate food for infants and even for those they have beaten in a dominance ritual. These actions could be totally misinterpreted, or found to be very offensive to human beings.

Perhaps the most obvious aspect of what a creature does is how it moves and looks and smells and sounds. Animals don't walk like humans; your story should reflect that. Think about how a non-human will interact with a world built for humans by humans – short animals might have to jump onto tables or sit up on their hind legs. Perhaps the world won't just be built for humans – perhaps it will make allowances for non-humans too.

Always describe non-humans in a way that lets the reader know what they are and what they look like. The most important aspect is usually relative size – Minotaurs are very big, especially when compared to humans, Talking Mice are quite small. People will notice the color and smell and size of fantastic creatures; make sure you describe it.

Finally, think about the sounds fantastic creatures make. Most Narnian creatures talk – but what do they sound like? Use words which describe their voices in appropriate ways; Minotaurs bellow, wolves howl, cats purr. Additionally, a Talking Animal might use the same sort of noises as their mundane counterparts do – Talking Owls might screech as a battlecry, and Talking Wolves will use howls to communicate over long distances without using words.

When dealing with completely fantastic creatures (such as Gryphons, Dragons etc.) consider what they might sound like. I described birds as having “metallic” voices in my stories, and cats as being “sarcastic” and “plumy”. Gryphons were described as a combination of the two.

Don't be afraid of using accent and dialect; my wolves had American accents as they were from the west and their culture was based on Native Americans. Cats were upper-class English. The Beavers, of course, were Cockney!

How might non-humans refer to things? Wolves would call young creatures of any species “puppies”, cats would use “kitten” or “cub”, Dryads might call them “saplings”. “Husband and wife” is a very human term – other species might use different words, or maybe not have the concept at all!

What do they look like to humans?

How do humans (and even other non-humans) see him and react to your character? A new visitor to Narnia will most likely be shocked and surprised by a Talking Animal, but even a native Narnian will find them different. A wolf who eats raw meat, urinates to mark his territory, is loyal to his packmates over and above the King, ritually scars himself and communicates by howls might be a good friend and servant of the humans – but they won't completely understand him and will always see him as slightly “other”.

What is the relationship between various races and characters. Are Dryads scared of humans because humans cut down trees? Are rabbits terrified of the big cats? Are wolves apologetic for serving the Witch? Details like this add detail to stories and are a source of wonderful sub-plots and motivations.

Putting it all together

Writing a non-human requires being aware of all these answers whenever he appears; every word, every action, every reaction and every piece of narrative must fit these answers. This means scenes might require re-working. Sometimes it will be a big re-write, but most of the time changing one word or adding a single detail will highlight the inhumanity of the non-human character.

Narnia is a fandom which benefits from well-drawn fantastical creatures. I hope these questions start you thinking about the various ways you can show a non-human character in your stories. Use your imagination and have fun!