Follows from @obeysalsaverde || Escaping the past isn't easy for a demon who can glimpse backwards and forwards through time. The Glimpser is an immersive fantasy series featuring territory politics, queer and poly romances, and a dual-timeline narrative.
Welcome to the Tumblr blog for The Glimpser series.
I'm Salsa, a queer Australian writer of big feelings and lewd dealings. No minors here please. 🔞
I am currently writing book 1 of The Glimpser—an immersive fantasy series featuring territory politics, queer and poly romances, and a dual-timeline narrative.
I also like to encourage others to write.
When I'm not writing, I am a freelance book editor who loves em-dashes. AI will have to pry my favourite punctuation from my cold, dead hands. This blog and everything I create is an AI-free zone.
You might know me from fandom and fanfiction spaces, but I wanted to create a blog specifically for the book series I'm writing. I'll share more on that in a separate post.
This is example 3 of what I'll be sharing on ptrn, and perhaps in smaller quantities here.
Today's sample is the polished draft of the start of chapter 1 of The Glimpser of Woe. If you saw the previous example posts I made, you'll notice that this is the same section, so you can really see how my writing progresses from planning, to a first draft, to a more polished draft.
Polished draft does not necessarily mean that it won't change—I haven't got a full draft of the book yet, after all. Instead it means I've switched on my editor eyes to better develop what's on the page and go over it with a fine-tooth comb. Having said that, it won't be perfect or free from mistakes. I am an excellent editor, but editing your own work is not the same as receiving objective feedback. I will engage an editor when I've got a full manuscript that I've revised to the best of my ability. But enough yapping on that front.
I'll leave some commentary below the quoted text.
Widow grows restless as we near the border. I lean forwards in the saddle to run a hand through her mane. She snorts at my touch, but it soothes her unease enough that she resumes a steady pace.
We had slowed to a trot at nightfall, around the same time the road swooped back towards the coastline. The sea breeze here is different to what we are used to. Back in the capital, an ever-present smog blanketed the city, and a boggy odour rolled in from the Bay of Woe. The smell would cling to the throat, but I’d grown accustomed to it over the years. The cleanness of the air away from the city shouldn’t come as a surprise, especially here where the continent meets the ocean. Perhaps it’s the accompanying nostalgia that catches me off guard.
The first border checkpoint we reach waves us through without question. With my hood down, they can see at a glance that I'm a demon, like them, and my false travel papers pass a cursory glance. Their concern is with who enters the territory, not who leaves.
Further down the road, a second checkpoint comes into view. The base building looks like a small house—four brick walls, firelight flickering behind the windows, and a thatched roof. A watchtower interrupts the thatching at the side of the building away from the road, doubling its height, alongside a smokestack just as tall. A thin tendril of haze curls skywards, then disperses on the sea breeze. It’s a quaint structure, but a lonely symbol of the invisible demarcation line where Infernia ends and the wide road continues into the Faelands.
I spur Widow forwards and she breaks into a canter to close the distance. The pale brickwork rises like a ghost in the dark as we near. The double doors facing the road open just as they come into focus, and four faefolk step out to meet us, armed and mistrustful. Two more observe from the tower, arrows nocked, while more watch from within the main building. A crowded house, it seems, but the numbers are unsurprising given recent events. The unease is heavy in the air.
One guard steps ahead of the other three. The leafy sigil of the Fairy Queen adorns his metal breastplate. He strikes the road with the butt of his spear as I rein Widow to a halt.
“State your business, demon.”
Widow grunts and paws at the ground with two left forehooves. I loop the reins around the horn of the saddle and raise my hands, pitching my voice a touch higher than true.
“A traveller. I’m heading for the Treaty Lands to study.” That part is true, more or less. “Valyri of Greyfog.”
The forged travel documents in my saddlebag bear the given name of my sister. It had made sense to adopt her identity. We were twins, two halves of a whole, when we entered this strange, dark world. If she had lived, we might still look alike. At twenty-seven, my body has kept the light build of my adolescence—a lithe and unassuming figure, a height more typical of female demons than other males, and subtle muscle definition rather than bulk. My shoulders are a touch wider than I'd like, and beneath my long lace-up gloves my hands might contradict my soft jawline. I feel most myself in that fluid space beyond binaries, prefer how it looks and feels on me.
The man who spoke steps forwards. He appears to be the oldest of the four border guards. He has the pinched nose and small point to the tops of his ears that are a common trait among the faefolk. His hair is sandy and streaked with silver, and the slight sag to the skin around his eyes suggests that he reached full maturity some decades earlier. I force a hopeful smile as he comes close enough to see past Widow’s glamour.
“Careful. Eryll doesn’t like people. I can dismount to show you my papers.”
He pulls up short, eyeing my mount with suspicion as he assesses her true appearance. Widow snorts and tosses her head, pawing at the ground again—she does not like the false name I chose for her, but the statement is otherwise correct.
The other three guards draw cautiously closer. One of them spits in the dirt and mutters, “Freakish beast.”
I shush Widow when she growls a low note in response. The first guard beckons for me to dismount and watches like a hawk when I open the saddlebag.
“Valyri of Greyfog,” he repeats, reading the name from the forged document. “If you’re travelling to the Treaty Lands, you should have headed to the City of Woe. The portal gate would get you there faster.”
Commentary box
This is the first chapter of the 'present' storyline, so the tenses have been amended to reflect this since the earlier draft.
I wanted to flesh out the lead-up to Laplace reaching the border checkpoint and further highlight the racial/political tensions informing the whole interaction. I debated whether to have a single checkpoint for both territories to share, but ended up settling on two checkpoints some distance down the road from one another. Again, this is a better reflection of the racial/political tensions at play.
Widow received a glamour in later revisions, to somewhat mask her very clearly Infernal appearance. There's an enchanted stone inlaid on her bridle that makes her look like a common horse from a distance, but anyone who gets too close will see past the glamour and know what she is.
I also reworked where Laplace's twin sister is brought up. I felt it was more natural to narrate the details of the false travel documents when they're in use. I also took the opportunity to describe what Laplace looks like and establish some information about their gender identity and presentation.
If you have any thoughts around what I've shared here, let me know in the comments!
This is example 2 of what I'll be sharing on ptrn, and perhaps in smaller quantities here.
Today's sample is an early draft excerpt from the start of chapter 1 of The Glimpser of Woe. I'm cheating a little here, since the other example was the planning/notes section of the same section. I guess this means you can also see how my planning/notes transforms into early draft. I'll also share the current version of the same scene as a polished draft sample soon.
I'll leave some commentary below the quoted text.
Widow grew restless as we neared the border. I leaned forward in the saddle to run a hand through her mane. She snorted at my touch, but it seemed to soothe her unease enough that she resumed a steady pace. We had slowed to a trot at nightfall, around the same time the road swooped back towards the coastline. The sea breeze here was different to what we were used to. Back in the Infernal Realm’s capital, a smog was ever-present across the city, and the Bay of Woe emitted a boggy scent. Combined, the smell clung to the throat, but I’d grown used to it during my life there. The cleaness of the air away from the city, especially where the continent met the ocean, shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Perhaps it was the accompanying nostalgia that truly caught me off guard.
A checkpoint came into view up ahead. The forged travel documents in my saddlebag bore the given name of my sister. It made sense to adopt her identity. We were twins, two halves of a whole, when we entered this strange, dark world. If she had lived, we might still look alike. But she hadn’t. I spurred Widow forward and she broke into a canter to close the distance between us and the border tower. Four faefolk stepped out of the structure to meet us.
“State your business, demon,” one shouted as I reigned Widow to a halt.
She pawed at the ground with two left forehooves and grunted. I looped the reins around the horn of the saddle and raised my hands, pitching my voice a touch higher than true.
“A traveller. I’m heading for the Treaty Lands to study.” That part was true. “Valerie of Greyfog.”
The man who had spoken stepped forward. He appeared to be the oldest of the four border guards. He had the pinched nose and small point to the tops of his ears that were a common trait among the faefolk. His hair was sandy and streaked with silver, and the slight sag to the skin around his eyes suggested he’d reached full maturity—100 years, for faefolk—some decades earlier. I forced a hopeful smile as he came closer.
“Careful. Eryll doesn’t like people. I can dismount to show you my papers.”
He pulled up short, eyeing my mount with suspicion. Widow snorted and tossed her head, pawing at the ground again—she did not like the false name I had chosen for her, but the statement was otherwise correct. One of the other guards spat on the dirt road and muttered “Freakish beast”. I shushed Widow when she growled a low note in response. The first guard beckoned for me to dismount and watched like a hawk when I opened the saddlebag.
“Valerie of Greyfog,” he repeated, reading the name from the forged document. “If you’re travelling to the Treaty Lands, you should have headed to the City of Woe. The portal gate would get you there faster.”
Commentary box
This is an early draft of the start of the first chapter. The first chapter is set about a month after the events of the prologue. I first wrote this before I'd settled on a dual-narrative structure, so this draft is in past tense but has since been rewritten into present tense (polished draft sample will reflect this).
I wanted to introduce Widow straight away. In appearance, Laplace's mount (and other horses like her) is based on Sleipnir of Norse mythology, thus the two left forehooves. Girlie's got eight legs. Temperament-wise, she is a grumpy old lady with a personality somewhat based on my cat.
Laplace's dead twin sister also gets a mention, though I ended up not liking how I'd introduced her here. Her name is Valerie here, but in a later draft I adjusted her name to Valyri, with the stress on the y instead of the a. Because, you know, gotta mess with names when writing fantasy. Sue me.
And of course, I had to introduce the racial/political tension here. There is some big beef between the demon and fae territories, but I'll save the details for now.
If you have any thoughts around what I've shared here, let me know in the comments!
This is example 1 of what I'll be sharing on ptrn, and perhaps in smaller quantities here.
Today's sample is some early planning and notes from the very start of chapter 1 of The Glimpser of Woe. And yes, there are footnotes—it was the easiest way for me to combine the comments I'd left for myself.
I'll leave some commentary below the quoted text.
Laplace has been banished from the infernal realm after a falling-out with the demon king. They are passing through the Faelands[1] on their way to the Academy in the Treaty Lands[2] when they see a figure standing on the wrong side of the wooden barrier that separates the road from the sheer cliffs overlooking the Springtime Sea. As they approach, they experience the fast-flashing images of an involuntary vision in which the woman throws herself off the cliff. They have been determined to keep a low profile on their way through the Faelands, but the idea that they might save a life after taking so many[3] urges them to stop[4].
Laplace has been travelling by horse—a sleipnir or spider horse named Widow to be exact. They tie the mount up out of sight as the creature's infernal nature becomes apparent to anyone who looks too closely. They don't wish to scare the woman or have her asking questions.
Laplace tries to be casual in their greeting (something about being on the wrong side of the barrier), but the woman doesn't seem to be intending to jump. However, she does seem sad. She quickly notes that Laplace isn't a local (she can tell straight away that they are not of the fae), and neither of them share their name. She addresses them as “stranger”, and explains that she is to be wed on the morrow to a man she has no love for[5]. Laplace understands that she means an arranged marriage[6] and offers their condolences. They ask why she doesn't simply refuse, to which she replies “duty”.
Reflecting on their falling-out with the demon king, Laplace empathises with that sentiment. Without being too specific, they explain that they’ve decided to put their duty to themself and what they value before their duty to others, and that was why they were on the road. If the idea of marrying her arranged finance made her unhappy, what did that mean for her duty to herself and her own values?
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[1] They can see an ethereal crystal castle which according to their map is the home of the fairy king, which Laplace makes a point of not passing too close by despite their curiosity and the likelihood of somewhere comfortable to stay nearby.
[2] Laplace is returning to the academy where they first learned how to control their powers properly. In the lead-up to their falling-out with the demon king, their powers began to play up and they began having involuntary visions—something with the potential to be quite traumatising, which they hadn't experienced in many years. Since the night of the falling-out, their abilities have all but regressed to what they were when the demon king first plucked them up from the ashes of their previous home. Their hope is that by returning to the institution that helped them control and master their powers, they will be able to stabilise their gift.
[3] And the important ones they failed to save: their mother and sister; their village; their queen.
[4] This ‘white knight’ moment is going to be subverted to all hell in a sec.
[5] Maybe someone from Celestia, for inter-realm politics? Makes sense given the tensions between the Faelands and the Infernal Realm.
[6] Parallel with Euscorpius.
Commentary box
I have left these notes mostly as they were even though some of the details have changed since I actually started writing. I planned the early chapters about two years ago. At that time, I didn't know Laplace was going to be nonbinary. I have corrected to they/them pronouns before sharing this. Hopefully I didn't miss anything, but apologies if the grammar goes wonky in places. I wanted to use the correct pronouns for Laplace when I shared this. Planning and notes are meant to be kinda unpolished, so I'm not going to be too hard on myself if it isn't edited to perfection.
When I first worked out that Laplace would be a nonbinary character, I debated whether that was something that they'd already know at the start of the story. I also considered the possibility of rolling pronouns, but on reflection I think that was more because by the time I figured it out I'd been using he/him pronouns for about a year and a half.
In the end the conclusion I came to was that, like many queer folk, Laplace didn't have the language to articulate their identity at first. I now know that there's a point during their first time studying at the Academy in the Treaty Lands where the final piece of that puzzle clicks into place and they realise that gender neutral pronouns feel right. We're going to go on a little gender journey with Laplace to get there during the early 'past' sections of the narrative. I know I'll engage a sensitivity reader once I've got a solid full draft, especially since I'm not that specific flavour of queer myself.
I'm tempted to talk more about Widow and Salvia at this point, but I think there will be more appropriate opportunities for that down the line.
If you have any thoughts around what I've shared here, let me know in the comments!
A hilarious rendition of: What you read has nothing to do with endorsing it or wanting it in real life, some people simply engage with the fantasy of it!
things that are sexy in fiction are red flags in real life. that's not a double standard, or women/girls being dumb, its that the fantasy is inherently safe.
I had a really clear vision in my mind of how I wanted to start this novel. It has gone through some heavy redrafting already, but it might change more once I have a full draft of the manuscript. For now, here's the reader link for the prologue!
Content warning: blood and dead demons.
Prologue – The Glimpser of Woe
The prologue bridges the past and present storylines of the narrative, introducing protagonist Laplace as they make a critical decision.
Beyond the prologue, the present storyline follows the ✨consequences✨ and aftermath of this decision, while the past storyline maps how Laplace got to this moment.
I hope this opening has you curious and wanting to read more.
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Please note:
This is just a taste test. I'm not going to be posting whole chapters as I write them, and I will be going back to adjust thing as I feel the need. We are still in the first-draft writing stage!
I use Ellipsus for my writing, as an ethical alternative to Google Docs. You do not need an account to access an Ellipsus reader link.
The reader link is currently set to public, which means anyone with the link can access the prologue. I reserve the right to change the link access settings at any time.
If you would like to share this around, please share a link to this whole post rather than the Ellipsus reader link alone.
Lastly, I never use generative AI and I do not consent to my writing being fed to AI under any circumstances.
My total word count for July was 10,580. The majority of that (8210) was for The Glimpser.
It wasn't my best month of the year (June was 23,626 words total, with 15,997 for The Glimpser), but I moved house this month, among navigating another Big Life Event™ with my partner, so I'm still really happy with that progress.
I am currently writing book 1 of The Glimpser—an immersive fantasy series featuring territory politics, queer and poly romances, and a dual-timeline narrative.
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Blurb
The Glimpser of Woe (Book 1)
Escaping the past isn't easy for a demon who can glimpse backwards and forwards through time. When Laplace is banished, their powers enter a dangerous regression. Their reputation as the Demon King's "pet" assassin requires them to keep a low profile while crossing half the continent for help.
That's how they meet Salvia—an opportunistic fairy princess and unexpected travelling companion. Laplace must not let Salvia discover their identity. Not even when she ignites a spark that feels so much like what they had with Euscorpius—the Demon King's son.
But Laplace isn't the only one keeping secrets and trying to escape the past.
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About
The Glimpser series follows the demon Laplace as they struggle with their powers, their identity, and matters of the heart, amid growing conflict across Etheria.
Book 1, The Glimpser of Woe, is Laplace's journey after their banishment, interwoven with the events that led to their exile. Between the struggle to master their powers and a dangerous post-exile regression, Laplace discovers that identity can keep changing long after coming of age.
Meanwhile, their heart is asunder. Their clandestine romance with Prince Euscorpius seems lost with Laplace's banishment. And falling for Salvia feels wrong and dangerous with so many secrets between them.
