GDC Chapter 1

The beginning is a delicate time, isn’t that what Frank Herbert said in Dune. It’s certainly true of the first chapter in any story. This is the area where you confront a reader who is pointedly aware that the text they hold in their hands is alien, a thing separate from themselves, and thus in and of itself irrelevant. This sense of otherness, of potential irrelevance, is the greatest challenge for any writer. How do we get people to care about people other than themselves (in my case, who do not even exist in a tangible sense), doing things without consequence for the reader, in places the reader will never go?

The answer is story. It’s a character, a true person rather than a cardboard cut out or replicant, making choices that we can understand with things at stake. There is so very little time to win a reader’s interest when they pick up a book. Some people may give you a chapter or two; some may last for a few pages; some a few sentences. Some less than that. Any reader who makes their way through the first chapter of a book without finding good reason to read on won’t do so.

It was with that knowledge large in my mind that I wrote this chapter. I don’t think it’s the best in the book, either in terms of craftsmanship or enjoyment offered, but I do think it works well. More importantly, I believe it serves that vital function of giving the reader reason to read on. The two most important functions of this chapter are to establish Scamp’s character, which I hope will win people’s amusement, admiration—occasionally exasperation, perhaps—and identification. I really hope that by the time the chapter ends the reader knows and likes this boy. The second function is to propel a central conflict of the plot: the tense relationship between Scamp and Mather. While the most obvious conflict in chapter one has to do with Jaiben and the pack of bullies, the pertinent conflict is that which arises from Scamp and Mather’s very different expectations in and responses to the situation. This is the conflict that plays a role throughout the novel, and my ability to establish each of their characters and the friction between them quickly was paramount to earning reader interest and identification. These goals can be seen in the specific compositional choices I made throughout the chapter, starting with the first line.

• Pg 6, paragraph 1, line 1: “As usual, Scamp was hiding.” Whenever I write the first line of a story, I try to achieve a three-part “hook,” or to give readers three distinct reasons to want to read more. This philosophy is to reveal character, introduce conflict, and pose a mystery, all in the first line. This first line from GDC fulfills all three requirements—not in as excellent a way as I may have wanted, but it does. (Part of the reason I didn’t write something more overtly provocative is because the first line of my original prologue was much more my style in its intrigue.) This line reveals Scamp’s character by making clear that he often finds himself hiding; in fact, this behavior is “usual.” It is not a great jump to imagine a boy who is either a troublemaker hiding from consequence or a victim trying to escape frequent bullying, and Scamp is both these things. Add in Scamp’s name and the reader is able to infer a great deal about this character from a very short, simple first line. Hiding suggests conflict of some sort, and frequent hiding only emphasizes this, as whatever trouble caused the seclusion is not momentary or incidental. Finally, this line poses a very clear question: Why is this boy hiding? So while this line isn’t overpowering in its influence on a reader, it does urge them to find out more about this trickster character, promises trouble right off the bat, and teases them to find out the nature of that trouble. Perhaps not genius, but good enough, I believe, to get most readers to the second paragraph, which can win me a third, and so on.
• Pg 6, paragraph 2: This paragraph is all characterization. Not only does it portray a mischievous—but not malevolent—boy, but it also makes clear that he is perfectly satisfied being so. He is intelligent and self-aware, as he knows his own state and character in life, has evaluated this, and finds it suitable. There is a level of self-awareness in this boy that is unusual, as will continue to be the case throughout the book. Scamp is different from others not only physically, but in how he approaches the world. He sees things from odd angles, uncommon perspectives rather than incorrect ones. Take, for example, his perspective of being alone as a trade for sweets. He doesn’t revile against those wishing to punish him or stew on how unfair it is that they don’t give him what he wants to begin with, as other boys might; instead, he realizes that there are rules in place and consequences of those rules, and has decided that accepting the consequences is just fine with him.  He almost sees it as an exchange or barter where both sides get something while giving something else up. It is this unique perspective and willingness to embrace the unusual that not only make Scamp interesting but also heroic.
• Pg 6, paragraph 3, line 3: “Trigneth Duncan.” His name is Mel Duncan, not Trigneth, which sounds like some strange seagoing version of the Edsel. Trigneth certainly is his name, and I was not about to let you change it simply because it didn’t fit your rhetorical purposes. And it didn’t. Joseph Campbell theorizes that all stories are about a hero moving from the natural world to the supernatural—what we might call a dramatic world—and returning as changed beings. I’m not a strict Campbell constructionist, but I do believe strongly in the power of archtype and use it consciously and unconsciously in my storytelling. One thing I wanted to be very clear and powerful at the beginning of this story was the shift from Scamp’s natural life to his supernatural realm of growth and adventure. To reinforce this natural or everyday feel, I designed Tarban to be an average, anything-but-remarkable or exciting village. We first meet Scamp in a barn loft that belongs to Mel Duncan, about as unassuming a name as there is. This was all done to establish the normalcy from which Scamp is launched into his adventure. But, as has been established, his name ISN’T Mel, and isn’t likely to change for your wishing it with all your heart.Fine. So you now read “Trigneth”, which fits the ordinary setting of Tarban like a snorkel at the Kentucky Derby. I just hope the ordinariness of the rest of the setting is enough to ground our hero’s journey. Oh, and get used to these little tiffs over names, as they happened more than once.
• Pg 8, paragraph 5: One of the purposes of every first chapter is to establish a sense of the ongoing life of the protagonist before the story began.  For them, the start of the story isn’t much of a start at all; rather, it’s a change or transition from what life was like before to what it is like afterward.  It was important that the reader be introduced to Scamp in the middle of living his life, which has plenty of challenges and complications already present.  This paragraph gives a bit of backstory about a single exchange he’s had with the bullies, hopefully communicating that it is just one of many.  It’s easy to imagine a roguish child like Scamp being bullied a lot, both because he refuses to back down but instead gets revenge through cunning and trickery—as in Jaiben’s hair—and because adults are less likely to be protective of a boy with a reputation as a troublemaker.  Later, when we get a sense of how absent their parents are and of the tense relationship between Scamp and Mather, we have a fairly substantial understanding of this boy’s life.  That foundation is essential for everything that follows.
• Pg 9. paragraphs 6-7: The analogy of Jaiben being an ogre is another point of contrast between Scamp before his adventure and afterward.  It’s a marker that shows just how much he has grown in experience and understanding.  Before the journey, a local bully is Scamp’s ”ogre,” the worst enemy and greatest concern in his world; afterward, he has not only faced a true ogre, one with terrifying powers, but also met a good ogre who becomes an ally and friend.  Scamp’s experience, into both the dark and light potentials of life, have greatly increased.  This is the process of growing up—approaching ever broadening horizons and learning that not everything beyond them is nice.  It is how we respond to the growing complexities of life that makes us who we are.  Scamp comes out of his supernatural journey fairly well, as is testified by the last line of the book, and the new perspective in regard to Jaiben it indicates.
• Pg 9, paragraph 8: “What is this, Sean?”  Who’s Sean?  Let me introduce you to the true identity of GDC’s protagonist: Sean “Scamp” Weaver.  This is another name issue that arose in the process of revision.  In the early drafts, Mather never called Scamp by his nickname; rather, he used his given name of Sean.  Now, in the book there is no Sean “Scamp” Weaver, just Scamp Weaver.  This is an issue that I obviously lost out on, but it’s one that I fought quite hard for and still believe in.  I think having Mather call Scamp “Sean” brought a number of things to the table that have now been lost to the book.  First and most importantly, the fact that Mather alone in all the book ever referred to Scamp as “Sean” illustrated just how differently Mather saw his little brother.  Mather views himself as more of a parent to Scamp than a brother; he considers his brother a burden of responsibility, which secretly terrifies Mather.  Also, Sean is an unremarkable name, which typifies how Mather considers his brother.  Scamp wants to be recognized for who he is, which is symbolized by his taking pride in a name that, for most people, would be insulting.  Mather’s refusing to call Scamp by his name is demonstrative of his refusing to acknowledge his brother’s own sense of identity and worth.  This dynamic is the heart of the great tension between the two.  The simple act of calling Scamp “Sean” communicates this aspect of their relationship so efficiently and effectively that I don’t think anything I added in later drafts quite compensated for its loss.  The name “Sean” had other rhetorical purposes as well, including casting Mather as a gatekeeper on our hero’s journey.  Mather continually tries to discourage Scamp from going, and his continual use of the mundane name “Sean” is a type of discouragement, a way to remind Scamp that he’s just an ordinary boy, nothing special, and so has no business getting involved with dragon treasures and the like.  All of these elements are communicated in other ways throughout the story, so none were lost completely, but I do think some of the fullness and richness and depth in these areas was paired down through the revision process.
• Pg 10, paragraph 5: This is a tactic Mather uses repeated in the book—looking for reasons to blame others for problems to alleviate his responsibility for taking action to help.  Mather is, deep down, suffering from a chronic lack of confidence and is extremely self-critical.  The high standards he has for Scamp are really just projections of his own demands on self, and his sternness results from his continual dissatisfaction with his own performance.  He’s always looking for excuses to not try to help others because that risks failure, and he already feels like a failure.  It was important to reveal the foundations for Mather’s character in this first scene just as it was the reveal Scamp’s, though we only really understand the motivation for Mather’s actions as the story goes along.  At this point, we see him as Scamp sees him: as a stern judge, someone Scamp looks up to but also resents for his callousness.  We only see beyond that cover as Scamp begins to see beyond it himself as the story progresses.
• Pg 11, paragraph 6: This is the essence of the real dramatic conflict in the scene—it isn’t Scamp vs. the bullies, but Scamp vs. Mather.  The situation with the bullies is simply a catalyst giving the brothers chances to act.  Mather fails that test, and Scamp does not, as is typical of the early sections of the book.  The younger brother is the one who ends up taking care of himself, oddly enough refuting the very accusation that Mather uses to justify his lack of inactivity.  Also, the end of this passage shows another example of Scamp’s peculiar understanding of self.  He is well aware of his physical limitations and, because of these, the fact that fist fighting isn’t a competition in which he thrives.  But he takes this understanding one step further to the realization that we compete to win, so why enter a competition that is stacked against you?  Better to change the competition in a way you can thrive—such as dying hair rather than punching a face.  It is this willingness to admit his own limitations and look for ways around them that make Scamp heroic.  He isn’t a hero because he’s strong, or wields strong magic, or is a genius; he’s a hero because he’s creative.
• Pg 12, last paragraph: In earlier drafts, this wasn’t the end of the chapter.  Instead, we witnessed the chase through the woods and Scamp’s escape into the Bristly Briar.  The last line of the original first chapter is now on page 15: “No sooner had he thought this than the sun went out.”  In earlier drafts, in effect, all of chapter one served as establishment of Scamp’s natural life, then the last line was the moment he passed into the supernatural world of adventure.  In a way, the boundary between chapters one and two was literally the boundary between Scamp’s natural and supernatural lives.  There was a special symmetry in that composition, with the words on the page formatted to perfectly mirror the evolution of the narrative beneath.  But Master Henham expressed reservations about the transition and ended up changing it.  I point out, not without genuine pride, that this was one issue I did not argue. That you do not make every possible dispute of opinion a bloodletting has been duly recorded.  And I will state for the record that your judicious restraint of opposition is greatly appreciated—and all the more for the rarity with which you apply it. I still like the original better for its craftsmanship, but you still get the whole affect.  You just have to move on to chapter two.  After you.