Novelization reboot underway April 2012

Note: there is now a Lindel project home page. The home page here will continue to feature the first part of the book and whatever else comes up, and will also note updates. The project page will be more focused on just the Lindel project, and will include related reference material.

There is no introduction for old readers, apart from mentioning that I have no coherent notes, after years of suffering various setbacks, including evictions, a robbery, a flood, computer meltdowns, and various other health and financial setbacks—and so many details may conflict with the old comics. Unlike prior attempts to restart the series one way or another, I’m simply throwing the whole thing away, rethinking everything, and starting again as if from scratch.

This is not a blog, but something more like a text file-based wiki. There is no RSS feed, and no comments. Although the work-in-progress will be somewhat serialized, the goal is to put it all together as a finished book. I’m pleased to hear from you if you have something to say. There are plenty of ways to contact me, in public and in private.

Support Elf Life by browsing and shopping Amazon and J-List!

Image: Amazon.com

Preorder J.K. Rowling’s first major post-Potter novel, The Casual Vacancy.

The Guardian says the largish book is “set in Pagford, a dreamy spot with a cobbled market square and ancient abbey which becomes a town at war with itself.”

The new book, to be published worldwide on 27 September including ebook and audio formats, begins with the unexpected death of Barry Fairweather, whose demise in his early 40s leaves a space on the parish council.

Publisher Little Brown said it would be a “blackly comic, thought-provoking and constantly surprising” novel.

Meanwhile, you can now get Harry Potter on Kindle.

Lindel
by Carson Fire

A note on elves

There are no more elves. There once were, a long time ago; hidden in dark forests, descendants of a bygone world, a world named Alfheim, where once elf lords built great kingdoms, and elf farmers cultivated vast fields.

These hidden people, these enchanted refugees, mysterious and unbidden guests—for many years they shared this Earth with humankind, then vanished.

This is exactly what happened.

Chapter One
The worst faerie in the world

Two faeries, one pulled along manacled on a chain, floated effortlessly through the evening sky, and touched lightly to the ground at an old tree stump near a barn. The faerie holding the chain carried a spear in her other hand, and wore strategically placed plates of armor that helped her look imposing without the imposition of too much covering; the other was more completely naked, apart from a few pieces and patches of faerie jewelry. Faeries believed that clothing diluted their power by creating an unnatural separation between them and nature, the source of their power, so what little they wore—if anything at all—was strictly an exercise in vanity, or a show of status. Faerie soldiers did not need armor, but the sharp helmets and tall shiny shoulder guards and metal wing extensions looked impressive. The ensemble certainly had the effect of intimidating a prisoner.

The faerie at the end of the chain was downcast and miserable. Her blue, cloud-shaped curls drooped over her face and shoulders. Even her wings looked sad. She could cry, but she suddenly saw the large axe sticking out of the tree stump.

“That’s it, then,” she said. “This is the end.”

The faerie soldier had no interest in the axe. She was looking for something else. She finally decided to haul her prisoner into the barn.

“Aha! You there, hayseed! Yes, you. Stop talking to that cow and come over here.”

“Me?” The farm woman, some sort of elf wife in roomy overalls and a big pointed hat, was lanky, with long straight hair, a bean nose, and a dumbfounded look. Her eyes were wide as plates and a straw stuck out of her mouth, which was gaping.

“The faerie prisoner Ryley Kalendar is hereby assigned to your facilities.”

“My facile—what?”

“Your farm, dolt. Our records show that you are already hosting Valencia Turnbull, the worst faerie on our roster. Maybe the two of them together can help you push a plow or something.”

The soldier tugged on the chain, and the manacles fell open and released the blue-haired prisoner. Ryley stammered a feeble protest that nobody heard.

“Our other faerie?” The farm woman blinked. “Oh, the other faerie! Wall, shucks, she shore done been a sight helpful a might if you be askin’ me.”

“I wasn’t,” the soldier faerie sneered. “We’re in a state of emergency at the moment, and we just don’t have time to deal with problem faeries. All we require is that you feed them and keep them out of our hair until the emergency is dealt with.”

The soldier faerie strode imposingly outside, then turned her head to deliver one last piece of advice. “By the way. Don’t let this one get too close to the crops at harvest time. Not unless you have many buckets of water on hand to put out the fire.”

Ryley’s face went red. She clenched her fists and swung them in the air at nothing. The cow noticed for a moment, then ignored her and went back to chewing its cud.

The farm woman peered after the soldier faerie from the barn door, then pulled it shut and barred it as soon as she was satisfied she wasn’t coming back.

“Phew, that was too scary!” The farm woman turned around and found Ryley collapsed on her knees, in the straw, sobbing uncontrollably. “It’s OK, Ryley. Captain Chromedome’s gone.”

“You don’t understand,” Ryley sobbed, finding herself comforted by a complete stranger. “I’m never getting a castle again. This is the end of the road for me.”

“You had a castle? Oh my gosh, I’d love to have a castle! How big a castle?”

“It was, it was…” Ryley found herself, for some reason, trying to use her hands to show how big her castle had been. “What do you mean, you’d love to have a castle?”

“I’ve never even had a whole building before. I used to be the lucky faerie in a bar room, but they decided I wasn’t very lucky after all. After that, I was a lobby faerie at an inn, but everybody’s luggage flew open around me for some strange reason. They said it was because I’ve got a polarized personality.”

Ryley blinked at the hayseed. “You’re a faerie?”

“Valencia Turnbull, farm faerie! It’s the end of the road for me, too,” she said brightly.

“What are you doing in those, those, clothes?”

Valencia looked down at her roomy overalls. “Oh, these. Well, Mrs. Muckstyle doesn’t like us faeries ‘parading around’ in front of Junior Muckstyle. We’re gonna have to find you something to wear, too!”

“But, but we’re faeries. We don’t take orders from elves!”

“You haven’t met Mrs. Muckstyle!”

Chapter One, continued

One denuded scarecrow later, the faerie Rylie was introduced to the family wearing a shabby coat, patched trousers, and a large straw hat.

“So the faeries have blessed us with another mouth to feed,” Mrs. Muckstyle said, cleaving a block of cheese. “Now, Junior, you know nobody eats until we say blessings.”

“Sorry, ma!”

“Valencia, would you say grace? And take that ridiculous hat off at the table if you please, Miss Kalendar.” Ryley gulped and stuffed the straw hat down into her lap.

Val held her fork up for all to see. “We thank the Great Ground below and the Eye in the Sky for the boiled goose, spinach, and yummy apple pie!”

“Amen!” shouted everybody but Ryley, who was clenching her teeth in shock.

Ryley leaned over and hissed in Val’s ear, amid the clatter of silverware. “Valencia! That’s cult stuff! You can get arrested for that!”

Valencia blushed, and Ryley looked at her plate.

“We believe in the Eye in the Sky ‘round these parts, Miss Kalendar,” Farmer Muckstyle said. “Yer faerie queens, yer Liolinhis and Glynhials and Doderiddels, they think they’re the top of the heap, but we think there’s somethin’ bigger out there over us all.”

“The faerie elders,” Ryley said, timidly. “The ones who came before us.”

“Them’s gods for faeries. You can have ‘em if you want. We elves think the world is bigger than that.”

“Valley here was warried, too, at fust” Junior piped up. “Then one day she said, what are they gorna do to me? Send me offen to a fairm to raise goats and milk cows?”

“Besides,” Val said, “since I’ve been milking cows, I kind of believe in the Eye in the…Sky. Don’t look at me like that, Ryley.”

“Valencia! If they catch you saying things like that, you know what they’ll do!”

“Foof! Who’s going to catch me?” She suddenly looked scared. “You’re not going to tell on me, are you? Oh, please, Ryley, it’s not so bad believing in things, is it?”

“No, no, Valencia! Stop crying! Nobody’ll find out, not from me! I just meant, you know, if somebody found out.”

Valencia snuffled. “If somebody made you tell them, though, would you tell them?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Ryley said without hesitation. “You can believe whatever you want to. It’s just that,” she trailed off, biting her napkin. “I know what they’re like. I wonder if the only reason they didn’t put me to death is because of the storms.”

The table went quiet. Mrs. Muckstyle broke the silence. “We don’t talk about the storms at this table, Miss Kalendar. They’re a long way away, and don’t concern us here and now.”

Ryley bowed her head. “Yes, ma’am.”

The table was still a little too quiet. “So!” Farmer Muckstyle boomed. “What kind of faerie are you, Miss Ryley Kalendar? I don’t expect ye to be one of them faeries who helps things grow; the big fairms next to castles get those.”

“I’m a—” the words fell into the pit of Ryley’s stomach. “I’m a fire faerie.”

Mrs. Muckstyle rolled her eyes and shook her head, while Farmer and Junior shook with laughter. Only Valencia was impressed. “Gaw, you can make fire? Any time you want?”

“I don’t—” Ryley started to say that she doesn’t control it very well, but caught herself. “I don’t do it very often.”

Farmer Muckstyle was still laughing. “Thar be a perfect match, maw!”

Valencia was tucking back into her plate and talking with her mouth full. “I’m an ice faerie, myself. But I can’t do very much with it. I can only make one big block of ice, but it’s a little inconvenient.”

“Why, why’s that?” Ryley said.

“Because she allus gets stuck in the middle of the ice,” Junior chortled.

“Fust time she showed us, took her nigh on three months to thaw out,” added Farmer Muckstyle.