You are what you write. Illusion and Reality...I reside in between. Where are you?
Prompt: Does extreme eccentricity add to a story’s literary value, as in an eccentric character, plot, or setting
or is it just a cute trick?
Extreme eccentricity is often a matter of opinion when the character might seem really quite normal and just like somebody’s mother, or old Uncle Carl. When compared to the rest of the cast, a certain character might have a great impact. I think we try to avoid anything like a cute trick.
A rather odd character I've currently created, appears in Knights of Sparrow: (This will be her debut as no one has read this yet)
“Ready are we?” A loud cracked voice asked.
They both turned to see the old woman in the doorway, stooped and limping as she entered. She wore layers upon layers of braided and beaded cords that waved and rattled with each movement. Beady black eyes sparkled under folds of sun-burnt skin.
She moved to a position at the head of the table, wrinkled hands gesturing. “I need the glass, the juice, and the hand of the Holy One. Come, come, the energies of this universe is being anxious to see the Tesa blood put to use.” She pulled a long three-sided knife from under the braids with an ominous rustle.
“Please, Highness” Lady Ravii addressed Eleanor, indicating she should sit on the platform. “We must witness the ritual.” The two women arranged themselves opposite the table.
Looking around with a scowl, the old woman screeched, “There be more witness! Come I say!”
Four white cloaked figures hurried into the temple with two going to each side of the Queen and the Demi-Goddess. Paloo could not see their faces inside the heavy hoods. He caught Eleanor's eyes. She looked more uncomfortable now that it actually had become a reality.
“Nowwww...” She drew out the word. “Who is to receive the Tesa blood from distant tears?”
Ravii nodded to Eleanor who whispered, “I am Eleanor Dorvean-Velous, Queen of Nostrom and daughter of Rudegund the Fourth.”
“You girl, watch with all your being the gift of life from the Hidden holy Tesa king that will now name himself.” She looked at Paloo, eyes squinting.
“Stepping closer to the table, Paloo announced, “I am Paloo Denari-Tesa, Great-Grandson of Sathibey Tesa the Fourth.”
“Well you said!” She cackled her dry laugh and she reached for his right hand. “Hand you give willingly?”
“I do,” he said, wondering if he should be willing or not. The knife looked deadly.
“Ravii, Demi-Goddess of the Sun, know you what to do?” She began pulling Paloo's hand down to the table on top of a folded towel. More of her beads rasped against the edge of the table.
“I do.” Ravii stepped to the table, picking up the crystal-stemmed glass.
The ancient voice directed, “Under the hand when drop is ready.”
As he stood with his little finger sticking out, Paloo felt silly. If the moment weren't so serious he could giggle. He looked up at Eleanor, past Ravii, not wanting to see the knife action. He felt the prick and the tight grip on his hand as she squeezed the finger and turned his hand over the glass. He had to look to see a large drop of his blood hit the bottom of the crystal.
“Not to cool---juice be now!” Ravii poured the purple colored juice into the crystal, and began to stir with a narrow glass spoon. The clink of the glass seemed extra loud.
The towel wiped the knife, and wrapped his hand. “Hold that until it stop.” She waved to Eleanor. “Stand and drink, Queen of cursed blood. Receive the gift of the Tesa King who comes from the three generations who died for this to be.”
Eleanor looked almost disgusted, but raised the crystal and drained the glass. Ravii gently wiped her mouth with a small cloth.
“Time be for fire bowl!” the old lady again shouted. Immediately from outside a Selve rushed in with a large earthen bowl, which went to the center of the table to receive Paloo's slightly blood-stained towel, the mouth cloth and the crystal drinking vessel. Another Selve came to hand the ritual woman a jar of oil to pour and soak the contents of the bowl. The four witnesses with faces still concealed, hurried out of the room.
Ravii dropped something into the bowl and it burst into hot orange flames that burned blue around the edges. Everyone moved quickly back and waited while the old woman murmured some kind of prayer or incantation. Her movements filled the chamber with the clatter of her beads. When she finished she moved to the door. “Tomorrow morning, same!” And she was gone.
(excerpt from Chapter 40 of Knights of Sparrow)
Write On and let the eccentrics loose once in a while....>>>iggy