one of the powers i thought up for him is that doing a little ceremony in which he places a drop of his blood (blood holds a lot of power) on the sensory receptors (eye, ears, nose, what have you) of a relatively fresh corpse he can experience their sensations within the last moments of life if the death was strong enough leave an lasting imprint. its informative but not a fun experience, plus its hard to get your hands on murder victims remains.

I like this. Very nice.

Since we're just brainstorming ...

How about some sort of quasi-governmental agency sort of thing, or a powerful mercantile group, etc. that is committed to maintaining the status quo that your character is in the process of dismantling?

This could give you a whole host of enemies to trot out at need, with a faceless big bad lurking out there somewhere, sending his minions after your character.

I have recently found myself using a short story format to expand my understanding of some of my support characters.

This sounds like a good idea to me, maybe I'll "borrow" it. 

Seems like a good way to set these characters' origin stories, or similar.

The stories may not ever make it into your actual work, but are there for you to refer to, even if only for yourself.

Or you can pluck snippets to use for exposition in the main work.

I like it.

Since your thread has already been hijacked ... 

TOO LONG - DON'T READ 

Not only are you allowed to explain paranormal creatures for your readers, you are pretty much required to explain them.

This explanations belong in the exposition. It’s a tautology, the exposition is where things are explained. This is normally somewhere around the first third of the book (first sixth is better).

There’s a sliding scale for what readers will accept – The closer a fictional ‘fact’ is to the beginning of the book, the easier the reader will feel about accepting it. Introducing details too close to the point where the main character needs it feels like cheating. (Ok, ok, ok, I know. This is part of American fiction writing style, not everybody does this.)

Identify the Key Points that your readers must understand about the creature for the story to work. Make sure these things are repeated, preferably with examples that will stick in the reader’s mind.

But disguise the Key Points amid other pieces of information so that the reader does not obsess about the point. AND do not give the reader too many unneeded Creature Facts so that the reader does not obsess about the point. (And NO, writing is NOT easier without readers.)

Even if you are using an absolutely bog-standard creature that Everyone Knows – You still have to define it for the reader. You just have to make sure your definition is more entertaining. If you know you are diverting from popular notions about a phantasmal creature you must address that notion. Have some character ask about the misconception, and have some other character (As you know, Bob) give the facts as they apply to your story – Or some such literary trick.

A good Dresden example is the Black Court Vampire Attack in Chapter 17 of Blood Rites. That scene is almost completely exposition – and one of the funniest fight scenes I’ve ever read (…the timer popped out…)

Can anyone point to some good references on how to handle exposition? Perhaps in a vein similar to the JB guides that led me here?

I'm working on backstory type stuff right now that will eventually become expository, to be delivered in a variety of ways, but I could really use a good (and free  ) examination of the various accepted and/or conventional ways of handing these bits properly.

If done in large blocks, I'm afraid it comes off as way too textbooky, at least from me, and the last thing I want to do is to send the readers back to school ...

Back on topic, as long as the ghouls are reasonably recognizable as ghouls, then calling them ghouls should be just fine.

And keep in mind, they can look like ghouls or they can act like ghouls, without being the same ghouls that pop up in a Google search.

But if the have no ghoulish tendencies at all, then another name might be better.

I sense a momentary bending of the rules here, as some posts are now from the middle of stories, and not from the beginning.

And all of this talk of dreams has had me picking across my hard drive, looking for ... something I could post here.

I've been dying to do so, but can't cram a properly redone opening into the word limit.

So here goes, This was written a couple of years ago for some online fiction that I was doing.

Please forgive the present tense, which makes the whole thing sound a bit loopy, but I'm at work now and have no time to re-tense it. It is otherwise unedited, although it could do with a few changes. 

It's a smidgen over the 250 word limit too, as it's part of a longer bit. Hope that's okay ...

Gru’ud starts awake, alone in Shield Hall, uncertain if he has heard screaming, or has been screaming. His body is dripping a cold clammy sweat, his limbs still twitching and jerking.

A quick glance up toward the quietly sleeping crows tells him he is safe, and that the screams were not his own. The crows make excellent watchmen. He struggles to his feet and fumbles on his robe, his hands trembling as he ties the sash.

Gru’ud’s mind is reeling from the visions he has seen, his thoughts racing now, out of control. He stops what he’s doing and closes his eye and forces his breathing back to normal. Regaining control he then calms his heart, willing it to return to its normal rhythm. Finally, he stills the spasms in his limbs, their desire to strike out now subsiding. Gru’ud opens his eyes, and begins to recall, committing all that he can to memory.

The nightmares had come to him three in a row, ever an ominous sign. And he knew for no reason that if he could just discern their meaning, much death, perhaps his own, may yet be avoided.

The first had begun with a scene from his youth, a birthing at Uncle Nazz’s compound. Gru’ud had seen many while helping his uncle, and recognized the tools and the linens. But he saw no sign of Nazz nor of the midwife and turned to look toward the bed. He could not see the woman lying there, but could hear her grunting and breathing. Attending the birth, and blocking his view, stood a black robed figure, silent, as was the mother. Her breaths were coming faster and the grunts more intense, but the mother never cried out. With one final groan the birth was completed, but Gru’ud heard no squalling from the infant.

The figure in black, who had not helped with the birthing, reached down and plucked the child up. It drew the babe close and muttered some words, then held it aloft for all to see. But Gru’ud’s dream vision had already begun to fade and he could see nothing of the child, but it filled him with dread and revulsion. As the scene slid completely from his view, his heart filled with a deep, kindred sadness, for he knew that the child was an Abomination.


Hooked, or not hooked?

... on the initial community board is a link to JB's writer craft notes ...

Did he ever finish these, elsewhere perhaps?

I think they are great bits,and I would love to see his take on antagonist/protagonist, etc.

The parry would be a definite no. 

But given that the scimitar is a pretty large blade that in most hands (especially in undead hands) is used like a giant meat cleaver, go for a bit of finesse in a different way, such that the ghoul with the scimmy over-commits, etc and winds up a bit off balance, giving the fighter with the dagger an opening to strike ... or shove, or whatever fits best.