I’ve always been a character lover before a story lover–that’s not to say I can’t like both, only that a plot might make me pick up a book, but nothing but a good character will keep me reading. So while some people might have heads full of plot threads, I have bits of character just waiting for homes.
I’ve written about one before who still needs a story to tend to. There’s also a woman who owns a perfume shop with a sharp tongue and a knack for guessing your favorite scent with a glance, but it’s more than a knack. A detective who stumbles upon answers by pure luck and faith. A werewolf who only feels beautiful as a monster.
So many stories to tell, but I’m an impossibly slow writer. I worry that I won’t ever get them all down and they’ll die off, sick of waiting for me to get to work. I should probably stop writing this and start writing them, instead.
Anyway, here’s a drabble, a temporary home for a bratty prince.
(Adjective: Old English cossetung for “kissing”)
Valencia learns young that crying works.
He cries and nurses bring milk, cookies, broth, toys, pillows, blankets, and anything else they can thrust at him. He cries and his mother picks him up and drapes him in silk, clucking over how pretty he looks. He cries and someone is there, always.
Until they aren’t. Suddenly his tantrums cease to be charming. When he cries because a visiting princess calls him a nasty name, nobody takes pity on him.
“Fine,” he says to the mirror. He straightens his clothes and finds that results come faster from those afraid than those appeasing.