Not God: more like your mother

Writers are, of course, megalomaniacs. We toy with our characters’ fates in a cruel and capricious way. Bwa-ha-ha and all that.

Yeah, right.

I’ve now reached the point in Bringer of Light where all my plot threads tie up and head for the denouement. It took a while and one of the strands ended too early (must sort that in the rewrite), but here we all are, on a spaceship.

I really should have seen it coming, but I’ve been so tied up in the individual plot threads (pun intended) and so focused on bringing everyone together that it hadn’t occurred to me that, with the exception of the pair of characters who are married to each other (technically – it was a marriage of convenience), my rag-tag little band of rebels and misfits is rife with personal animosity, some justified, and some not.

Now I take the time to think about it, I can’t really blame them. They have the same broad aims but very different priorities. Not to mention the culture shock. And in the case of two of them, an instinctive and unreasoning distrust resulting from of thousands of years of careful conditioning.

What they need is a nice juicy crisis to pull them all together. Actually, I’ve just the thing…

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