Gome World

Bluebeard-The-Pit-Bing-Gome

You will read a lot about Bluebeard in my stories.  He is Wullie's nemesis, his arch enemy, a gome who hates Wullie so much that he can hardly think about anything else.  Bluebeard is a very "colorful" character.  He has grown larger and more important in my mind and in the stories the further I have taken the adventures.  I wrote in another blog entry about the technique of creating a character summary for each of the main characters in your own stories.  Here is the character description that I started with for Bluebeard that brought him to life.  I can't fill out everything about him for you or it would spoil the stories too much, but I hope this gives you a flavor of what he is like:

Age: timeless; Place of birth: a coal mine in Ayrshire, Scotland; Residence: an abandoned mineshaft near Muirkirk; Occupation: His full time job is figuring out how to destroy Wullie-The-Mahaar-Gome and strike back at humans everywhere; Appearance: Large (by gome standards), about three times taller and half as thick again as Wullie (so about 24 inches tall and eight-to-ten inches thick).  He is black and sooty, like a large lump of coal, but has deep set red angry eyes and streaks of cobalt blue metal in his beard (of which he is very proud).  Globs of black oily spit drool from the sides of his mouth.  Dress: He occasionally wears a dirty tartan sash or belt or cloak for ceremonial purposes.  Strengths: Physically very strong and mentally sly.  His body contains stores of poisonous coal gases which he can use as weapons.  Weaknesses: His obsessions make him very narrow-minded.  He can be fooled if you are smart enough.  He does not like being out in bright light.  He prefers dark, damp, scary places.  Obsessions: Defeating and destroying Wullie-The-Mahaar-Gome  Ambition: To destroy the human race and rule the world.  Work habits: He never rests... even when he seems to be resting in his petrified state his evil mind is scheming about new ways to get at Wullie.  Hobbies: He has no time for such frivolous activities; Illness: None that we are aware of; Family: None; Friends: No real friends but he is willing to hang out with anyone who will help him to defeat Wullie and to scheme about hurting humans; Pets: He treats Baldo-The-Bladderwort like a pet; Politics: Totalitarian Dictatorship (he wants to rule the world!); Tics (or mannerisms): He spits oily black gobs of spittle when he gets mad; Favorite food: rocks of all sorts EXCEPT coal; Drugs: Like most gomes he likes alcohol and smokes cowdie; Favorite books: The only book he reads is his own little black book where he records his successes and tallies up who owes him what; Favorite movies: I am sure he would like horror movies where humans get eaten by monsters but he has no time or interest in seeing movies, really.  There aren't any movie theaters down abandoned mine shafts; Favorite music: Badly-played bagpipes because it is so painful for most humans to listen to this; Desires: To destroy Wullie and grind him to dust on the floor; Fears: That he will be burnt to "final death," and that humans will rip out all the coal on the planet and burn it along with other Pit-Bing-Gomes; Most traumatic event: I tell about this in The Blackhope Scaur stories so I can't give the answer away here!; Most wonderful experience: Watching Baldo-The-Bladderwort poking out Hugh McDougall's eye in the cave in Wigtownshire; Major struggle (past or present): Against Wullie, on many, many occasions...

There, I hope that gives you a sense of this charming and lovable character. I would love to see how you imagine him.  Send me your drawing of what you think he looks like.  I bet he won't be smiling.

Here is a great set of pictures from the story that Taylor, one of Kim Storey's TAG kids in Bend drew including an angry and unhappy Bluebeard:

Detailed Character Descriptions

When you invent a new character in your story I am sure you have an idea of what he/she/it is like.  Maybe you have a very vivid idea.  but maybe you don't.  Here is a good technique to help bring your character to life.  Make yourself answer all of these questions about your new character.  Even if some of them don't make sense for your character and even if you think some of these details don't matter for what you character will be doing in your story I have found that it really helps to make myself fill out everything.  By the time you are done you have really made yourself look deep inside your new character.  You will find that you really know what he/she/it would do in a certain situation.  You know how they would think, act, or talk.  You will find that it really brings your characters to life.  Here is the list that I use:

Age, place of birth, residence, occupation, physical appearance, dress, strengths, weaknesses, obsessions, ambitions, work habits, hobbies, illnesses, family, friends, pets, politics, tics (or strange mannerisms), food preferences, drugs, favorite drinks, favorite books, favorite movies, favorite music, desires, fears, most traumatic event in the past, most wonderful experience in the past, major struggle (past or present)

By the time you have answered all of those questions about your main characters you will find that they begin to take on a life of their own in your story.  You will simply know what they would say or do in a particular situation.  This will make them come to life and seem much more authentic to your readers.

Describing scenes in all five senses

Here's a great piece of advice that I got from reading some books and articles on how to write fiction that really grabs your readers.  When you describe a scene think about all five of your human senses (touch, taste, smell, hearing and sight).  Imagine the scene and make a list of as many things as you can think of in each of those categories.  Then, when you start to describe it try to include one or two of the best ideas in each sense.  It can be hard, of course.  When your main character walks into a room it may be hard to think of what the room tastes like!  but if you force yourself to go through the exercise you will bring a much more vivid description to your readers.  Let me share two examples from my Wullie stories.  In The Rusty Pelican when Finn and Hadley climb down into the scary lower level of the huge barge that is moored out in Elliott Bay I describe it like this:

Slowly and quietly they descended below the upper deck of the barge. The trapdoor in the wheelhouse felt exactly like what its name said - the door to a trap. Wisps of thick black smoke followed them back down through the hole in the floor. The smoke gave off a suffocating, choking smell that caught at the back of Finn’s throat. It was so dark below him that he couldn’t see what lay ahead. Each step seemed to be pulling them farther into a dangerous unknown. Finn wanted to turn back but Hadley was coming down behind him so he kept going until his feet hit the floor below. It was damp, musty, and warm. The air felt stale and bitter, thick with coal dust that made Finn’s eyes water. It left a gritty, salty taste in his mouth. He felt surrounded by evil. With Hadley by his side Finn peered out into the gloom listening intently as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The huge boat creaked and moaned as it moved gently on the swell of the waves. He could hear metallic clanking. It sounded hollow and eerie. Drips fell nearby, landing with a sharp splash that echoed off distant unseen walls. The low rumble of voices came far ahead of them in the murkiness.

Does that give you a sense of what it would be like to be in that awful place?  Here is a totally different scene.  In The Scourge of Catalonia, part one of The Twilight Cave trilogy Finn and Hadley travel to Spain.  Hadley describes stepping off the bus into the courtyard of a magnificent mansion in the middle of a blistering hot summer's day.  I describe it like this:

Hadley kept her eyes closed as she stepped off the minibus so that she could appreciate the Catalonian Mountains with all her senses.  A wave of thick, dry heat brushed her cheeks, burning like sandpaper.  The babbling conversations, in a strange tongue, mingled with unfamiliar bird cries, the hollow clopping of horseshoes, and somewhere off to her right, the frivolous laughter of water falling.  She caught a whiff of horses along with burnt grass and fresh lavender.  Hadley opened her mouth to see if she could taste the warm Spanish air.  She opened her eyes and gasped in amazement.  Nothing had prepared her for what she saw.  On the journey from Barcelona airport in the minibus Finn's dad had explained that Signor Mendoza owned the Segovia Estates, famous for their vineyards, olive groves, and lavender fields.  These covered the hillside for miles along the coast in this part of Spain, he said.  The main house, stables and gardens stood on top of a hill.  The grounds were surrounded by high walls, laid out in the shape of a long cross pointing north.  As the bus had chugged up the mountainside, grinding its gears and complaining at every sharp turn, they had weaved back and forth along dozens of switchbacks climbing through the vineyards and olive groves.  These were laid out in neat rows across the undulating slopes as far as the eye could see.  The road was narrow, with thick green hedges lining each side.  The bus driver had honked his horn and waved his fist at children working in the fields who ran to catch a glimpse of the visitors.  Hadley smiled.  The varieties of bushes were very different from the ones she and Finn had seen in Scotland last summer.  There were no wet miserable blackberries, nettles, and beech hedges shivering below gray-black rain clouds here.  Instead exotic succulent shrubs rushed past the windows of the bus with multicolored birds sitting confidently on the cactus spikes.