The Wanted Child – How It Started

Each story starts differently. Some start due to an interesting “What if…” dilemma; some start because of a fascinating setting and the need to explore it; and then some start because of a character and the emotions swirling inside so much that they burst onto paper. The Wanted Child began the latter way.

It was a cold day. A lonely, cold day. I sat at my table, my empty apartment filled only with the whirring sound of my computer, its screen flickering with a half-finished story* that was failing to go anywhere. Frustrated, I stared at the snow-capped mountains framed by the large window before me and begged my mind to create a miracle to bypass the writer’s block.

Instead, I envisioned a teenage girl standing in a circle of emptiness. Her back, tense and proud, faced a whispering crowd who kept a careful distance from her. Her eyes, though, were on a huge display on the wall looming before her. Results were flashing — I didn’t know what the results were for (fighting maybe?), but I knew it was important to her. When her score flashed up, the whispers increased. She’d gotten a perfect score. Again. But she didn’t care about that. They already hated her as it was. She was looking for a different score. Someone else’s score.

The whispers suddenly halted as footsteps tread without hesitation to her side. A boy — tall, good-looking, and obviously a big name at whatever place we were at — and he was taking a stand right next to her, his eyes also on the display. The girl didn’t look at him, nor did her expression change, but inside, it was like a sun had burst upon a cold plain, warming her entire body. But it was a forbidden sun, for the two could never be together for real. Yet she still loved that he dared to be her friend.

The scene started to morph into different directions after that. I was trying to figure out the particulars and all the ‘whys’ of that scene. What brought them to this scene, why she was an outcast, why the boy was daring to stand by her side, what was keeping them apart, etc, etc. But, above all, I had to find a way to express all the emotion I could feel swirling inside that girl.

Ironically, the story ended up drastically different than the first idea. Instead of a school/competition setting, I ended up creating four Lands, tossing in nine gods, mixing in three different magic systems, added a dash of demons, and, of course, poured in a whole slew of competing motivations (I never write a simple story *sigh*). However, the emotions stayed the same. And the girl got her story told.

Now to continue it in the sequel!

*Kivana’s story. The beginning is heart-wrenching, the characters are awesome, but alas, I can’t get a plot that works. One day, though, one day, I’ll get the right idea to make it work at last.