by Sharon Lee
Kareen raised her hand, stemming the flow.
"Certainly, he knew this," she said gently. "We do not abandon our kin to danger. However, it is obvious that he understood the situation, and the manner of danger which pursued him. Knowing these things, he acted to keep the Ring safe. This is no trivial task he entrusted to you, Niece."
She held the Ring up between forefinger and thumb.
"You have, in a sense that goes beyond mere delms, preserved the integrity of the clan."
The black eyes glittered. Theo blinked and glanced away for a moment, as if she were Liaden-born and distressed by this public display of emotion.
"Bechimo also says that—he's been taken by enemies of the clan, and that Miri's gone after."
"This is also so. I hold the Ring in trust for Talizea, the na'delm."
Theo took a hard breath.
"I can go after them," she said. "Miri'll need back-up."
Ah, this was delicate, Kareen thought; and there was Korval pride to placate, as well.
"In fact, we do not know that Miri will need back-up," she said gently, putting her hand on the screen before her. "I am reviewing files now, and, while it is plain that there had been a plan, the plan itself is not elucidated. Which is wise.
"I do not hide from you the fact that this event has left us very thin, indeed, and I hope that you will not find it presumptuous in me to ask, as your aunt, if you will not stay with us, until we can gather ourselves together, call in allies, or hire them."
She tipped her head, and smiled.
"I would take it kindly, again, as your aunt, if you might assist us in this way."
Theo considered her so long that Kareen feared she had lost her subtlety.
Then, the girl bowed—younger to elder, once more.
"Val Con and I talked . . . a little before we got . . . interrupted. He was explaining how Korval was going to be shifting focus, from clan to kin," she said, haltingly.
"Indeed," Kareen said; "I am only just now acquainting myself with this proposal."
Theo nodded.
"In any case, yes. I will stay, and do what I can to help the family."
Author's Afterword
So . . . wow, right?
You really can't deny that The Wrong Lance got on its bike and rode.
Interestingly, some folks found the pace–which is similar to that of Agent of Change, the little novel that started it all, and which other readers profess to prefer, finding latter Liaden books "too slow" and even "boring"–too quick and even "breathless."
Which just goes to show that you can't please everyone, so you might as well please yourself.
And that brings us back to the vexed question of why The Wrong Lance staggered and died. It should have been fun. In fact it was fun, right up until it died, on the up-note of Theo's promise–and refused to go on.
So what did go wrong?
Well. First, as I mentioned in my introductory notes, was that I started in the wrong place. It is Traditional, when writing sequels, to start the next book where the previous book left off. Pretty often, we here in the Liaden Universe® avoid this by starting the next book with a new character/problem that may or may not intersect the previous book at some point, or merely run in parallel.
Unfortunately, this time, I was stuck with doing a direct sequel and no way I could worm my way out of it, so–knowing even then that it was a misstep, but thinking that I could make a recover–I started the new book where the previous book had left off.
The arrival of the Clutch short life, Emissary Twelve, front and center right at the very beginning of the story, is a signal–to readers and to the story brain–that Emissary Twelve, and the problem she bears, will be central to the book and its resolution. Emissary Twelve, therefore, had a lot to do with the shape taken by The Wrong Lance. She comes demanding to immediately see the Destroyer of the Universe, and it is very strongly hinted that the Clutch Elders are Displeased.
It was remarked by more than one reader of The Wrong Lance that Emissary Twelve did not act like a "typical" Clutch person. Early on, one reader asked if part of what had thrown the story sideways, so to speak, was the "excessive" narration about the short-lives, to which the answer was–yes. And no.
Because, in fact, as is explained in that excess of narration, Emissary Twelve is not a typical Clutch. She is one of the short-lives, the all-but-nameless, who are born quickly in order to accomplish a specific task–like wiping out an Yxtrang Conquest Corps–and who then die as quickly as they were born. While Emissary Twelve was not quickened for war, she was woken precisely because she lives faster than typical Clutch, and is more adaptable. She is by nature wary, and predisposed to perceive threat; there's no doubt that she's dangerous. You have to win Emissary Twelve's trust, and it's not easy.
A word of explanation here: The short-lives may be new to readers of the Liaden Universe, but Steve and I have known of them, and their specific function, for more than 30 years. If you look close, you'll see mention of their work in Agent of Change, the very first Liaden book ever written.
To recap, the arrival of Emissary Twelve, and her general attitude of belligerence, has, in story-speak, upped the stakes. Emissary Twelve must be a major figure in the story, and she must be part of the resolution of the story, aka the Thrilling Conclusion.
Now, in action-adventure fiction, upping the stakes isn't usually seen as a Bad Thing, and there were all those people who were finding the most recent Liaden books boring, slow, and confusing. Maybe, I thought–maybe we owed those readers a book harking back to our shared roots.
Let me just pause here and reiterate a Rule of Writing, to wit: When you are writing a book, you are writing for the characters, and you are writing for yourself, the author. To consider the feelings, expectations and probable criticisms of the book's future readers will, at the least push you into the land of second guesses. At the most, it will freeze you solid. There is a time and a place to think about a work's potential audience, but that time is not during the composition of the first draft.
So, allowing considerations of future readers to influence my decision-making at this point was an error. One I should have known better than, but I didn't stop there.
I decided that, since we were upping the stakes and all, that Val Con would be re-attached by the DOI. Long-term readers of my commentary about our work will recall that we have, over the course of twenty-three novels twice tried to get Val Con re-attached to the DOI and both times had to back-track and rewrite. I knew this, but I thought that, surely this time, with a plan in place and Miri at his back – this time, Val Con would allow himself–no! He would with malice aforethought force his capture and return to Headquarters, where he would proceed to kick Commander of Agents to the curb. There was a Plan this time; his Plan; surely there would be no problem.
I might have noticed his hesitation earlier, had it not been for one other thing. Remember what I said above about writing to please yourself? Well–confession time. I wanted–I wanted oh-so-much to get Val Con on a duocycle to perform a Thrilling Rescue. I wanted – I wanted the roar of the throttle, the speed, the spectacle of riding with dozens of others in train.
On the face of it, there was nothing wrong with the duocycle rescue; in fact, it made a couple of useful linkages, said some things about loyalty and family values – and reinforces the rescue attempt going on at Teramondi's hatch, by Chernak and Stost, which also says some nice things about loyalty. There is nothing wrong with the duocycle scene through Val Con going down, and Theo–after seeing him "rescued" in his turn–turning toward Lady Kareen's place.
It was only after he was "rescued" that Val Con began to...balk. I explained to him again that he had planned for this; that Theo was safe, that Miri had his back. He seemed to settle down a bit, though as I was getting the chapters ready for upload, I noted that the narrative was starting to become labored, and some of the threads were beginning to unravel.
I probably should have taken the hint
and stopped writing immediately, but there was still forward momentum. Miri had to produce an orderly transfer of power and be certain that the clan was held safely. Emissary Twelve, who had eaten of the Tree's gifts and was well on her way to becoming one of its dragons, needed to step forward so that she would be in place at the Thrilling Conclusion, which was her right as a character who had appeared in the first chapter. Miri had to collect the pods from the Tree, destined to be another important part of the Thrilling Conclusion.
Theo had to arrive at Kareen. The Ring had to pass, proving that the delm had planned this, and that things were going in the right general direction for the successful completion of that plan.
So, there we are, the Ring has passed, the stakes are as high as they've ever been, in the Liaden Universe (as distinct from the Crystal Universe). Val Con has been captured and is being taken to Headquarters, Miri and Emissary Twelve in hot pursuit, while on the new homeworld, Boss Surebleak has arisen to challenge the Boss Conrad and the New Order.
So many balls in the air! So many active characters! So many active threats! Why, anything could happen!
And what happened was, at that precise point–the story died, the characters stopped talking to me; for a brief time I forgot how to write sentences.
I cast my mind into the future, and what I saw was Val Con becoming Commander of Agents, the only one who was possibly qualified to oversee an orderly and humane shutdown of the DOI–and that was not an acceptable outcome. I moved the pieces around in my head; I tried different scenarios; I–well. Long story short, no conclusion, thrilling or otherwise, that came from the set-up we have just finished reading together—felt right to me. Worse, nothing brought the characters back to life.
Which is when I accepted that I had made a major error in storytelling, and that the only thing I could do was to start over, not at the point where the previous book had ended, but earlier than that. This decision slowed the pace of Accepting the Lance considerably, got Rys' team back into the narrative, active, instead of a side note (all agents lost), brought the Bedel more fully into the story, allowed Theo to shine, brought Emissary Twelve down from Epic Avenger to a more flexible and definitely more benign short-life.
The stakes did rise, though more slowly, and Korval protected Surebleak, sealing the bargain made in I Dare.
Do I regret having written the scenes that became The Wrong Lance? No. I was delighted to write the duocycle rescue–and it still plays pretty well on re-read. I was pleased to see Theo bonding more closely with her ship and her family. As I said at the beginning of this adventure, there are a lot of good bits, and there's not much wrong with the words–it was only the wrong adventure: too dark, too fast, too...ungiving. Part of the point of the Liaden stories, as they've moved forward, is to celebrate humanity, and compromise, and to show that even people who have lost much can, with the goodwill of others, win back to, and exceed, themselves.
Did I lose anything that I regret from The Wrong Lance?
Yes, actually. I regret not being able to write Kareen as Korval-in-Trust, protecting the clan and making it safe from its enemies. Kareen would have been one of the scariest, most thorough Korval delms in the history of the clan. She would have been stringent. And she would have been right.
And–here ends the tale and the tale of the tale. It was a fun trip.
Thank you all for your patience, your participation, and your support.
Everybody take care.
Sharon Lee
Central Maine
August 17 2020
About the Authors
Maine-based writers Sharon Lee and Steve Miller teamed up in the late 1980s to bring the world the story of Kinzel, an inept wizard with a love of cats, a thirst for justice, and a staff of true power.
Since then, the husband-and-wife team have written dozens of short stories and twenty plus novels, most set in their star-spanning, nationally-bestselling, Liaden Universe®.
Before settling down to the serene and stable life of a science fiction and fantasy writer, Steve was a traveling poet, a rock-band reviewer, reporter, and editor of a string of community newspapers.
Sharon, less adventurous, has been an advertising copywriter, copy editor on night-side news at a small city newspaper, reporter, photographer, and book reviewer.
Both credit their newspaper experiences with teaching them the finer points of collaboration.
Steve and Sharon are jointly the recipients of the E. E. "Doc" Smith Memorial Award for Imaginative Fiction (the Skylark), one of the oldest awards in science fiction. In addition, their work has won the much-coveted Prism Award (Mouse and Dragon and Local Custom), as well as the Hal Clement Award for Best Young Adult Science Fiction (Balance of Trade), and the Year's Best Military and Adventure SF Readers' Choice Award ("Wise Child").
Sharon and Steve passionately believe that reading fiction ought to be fun, and that stories are entertainment.
Steve and Sharon maintain a web presence at korval.com
Novels by Sharon Lee & Steve Miller
The Liaden Universe®
Fledgling
Saltation
Mouse and Dragon
Ghost Ship
Dragon Ship
Necessity’s Child
Trade Secret
Dragon in Exile
Alliance of Equals
The Gathering Edge
Neogenesis
Accepting the Lance
Trader's Leap
Omnibus Editions
The Dragon Variation
The Agent Gambit
Korval’s Game
The Crystal Variation
Story Collections
A Liaden Universe Constellation: Volume 1
A Liaden Universe Constellation: Volume 2
A Liaden Universe Constellation: Volume 3
A Liaden Universe Constellation: Volume 4
The Fey Duology
Duainfey
Longeye
Gem ser'Edreth
The Tomorrow Log
Novels by Sharon Lee
The Carousel Trilogy
Carousel Tides
Carousel Sun
Carousel Seas
Jennifer Pierce Maine Mysteries
Barnburner
Gunshy
THANK YOU
Thank you for your support of our work.
Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
