Behind the Story

A Story About...

When a Queen's pragmatism outweighs her care for individual lives, she is regarded as a monster. But what of those who try and stop her? If they, too, achieve their aims at the cost of lives, are they also monsters? Do those sacrifices become more acceptable if the victims are willing? If the ends justify the means for her opponents, then why are the Queen's actions "in a good cause" an act of villainy?

"Stained Glass Monsters" features a mage who "prances about doing whatever she wants", and yet has spent her life devoted to a task she'd rather not carry out.

Drafting

A remarkably quick and painless draft beginning from the idea of a spectacularly out of place woman lying in a field, surrounded by the compression effect of the Grand Summoning. The initial working title was "The White Lady" and the shift to "Stained Glass Monsters" shows the transition to focusing on the particular consequence of the use of magic which the Kellian represent.

Faille was in the book from the start, but the Kellian (the word is taken from 'Kell' which is a 'caul' of cobwebs on grass) didn't exist in my story until Kendall finally met Faille and found him to be "a scary man". Faille is nothing at all like I originally envisaged him. I still have the original notes which I often create when a story first occurs to me, and it reads:

Do this from professional busybody's apprentice's pov?

The Lord Chancellor of Rinmath was enjoying a cup of spiced tea with one of Her Majesty's professional busybodies when the Chancellor's second-best secretary scratched on the door, then crept into the circle of light surrounding the Chancellor's desk.

"My Lord. We've just received the oddest report out of Falk."

"Oh?" The Chancellor was a tiny little man, moth-dry and powdery.

"About a woman falling out of the sky."

From here I went to:

Illidian Thaille, one of Her Majesty's professional busybodies, was discussing his last mission with the Lord Chancellor of Senmark when the Chancellor's second-best secretary, Essan, scratched on the door, then crept into the circle of light surrounding the Chancellor's desk.

"My Lord. We've received the oddest report out of Sark."

"Oh?" The Chancellor was a tiny man, precise, moth-dry and powdery. His staff lived in dread of trying his patience.

"About a woman falling out of the sky."

"And the odd part is?"

"Ah, she is fixed to the ground in a village field. She is said to be nobly dressed, obviously of high birth, and she cannot be roused, nor moved from where she lies."

"A lady who does not care about grass stains on her dress is certainly unusual." The Chancellor's voice was bone-dry, a danger sign for any who knew how little he enjoyed his time being wasted. And minor magical phenomena was hardly of interest to the man who oversaw Senmark's security.

"The Lady Magister Rendall has ordered her carriage be prepared immediately," Essan added hastily.

That was of true interest. Lady Rendall was Her Majesty's niece, and an important power in Senmark's Court. The Chancellor blinked once, then poured himself a cup of spiced tea.

"Adjunct Thaille, I understand you are soon to visit Sark," he said, replacing his cup.

"Almost immediately," Thaille replied obligingly.

"No doubt the Lady Rendall will appreciate of your assistance."

"As you say, My Lord."

Knowing something of Charise Rendall's opinion of 'spies and babysitters', Thaille expected a fulsome display of appreciation indeed. With a smile and a bow, he took his leave.

Nothing at all the same from this first draft to the final, except that figure of a woman in white, stapled by more than gravity to the ground.