Thinking on Madrigar

Run Dark Alley
Madrigar’s Chappi Stall
Drangee Purple with Milk

I’m glad I thought to come back to this. I wish I’d thought to do so 45 minutes ago. I’ll punt and see what I can talk about.

I’ve written this scene a couple times, and in different places. None of them ever accomplishes what I set out to reveal. I’m wanting to detail the sights, sounds, smells, and life of a flea market. Color here. Noise there. A smell from over there. Each time I’ve attempted to set such a scene I end up navigating through the eyes of some character, but that character selfishly starts storying up my description. I don’t mind at the time.

I think my most basic trouble is that I expect to discover the market as I write through the stalls and vendors like I discover a real market. I figure I can make up the details of who sells what and where as I go—maybe I can—but then I give my descriptive POV a name and a life. That character sees the same place differently then I do. If they are a scared orphan they fear the vendors will catch them stealing apples or bunches of rough sweet naggi. If they are a veteran stallman they have no fear and no curiosity instead they wonder how their sales will do today of if Krilla will finally pull down that stupid sign of hers. I don’t mind at the time.

Maybe I just need to mechanically map the place out. Give each of the stalls a product to sell and a name and a proprietor to hawk it. Then I can dolly through the place on a neutral camera. Focusing my scope as I roll past fish mongers, craftspeople, dressmakers, and jewelers.

288 words on day 545