How do you begin a story?

I never realized the complications of writing a story until I began. After several false starts, the beginning of my novel remained elusive.

Most books begin with a startling statement or a paragraph to orientate the reader, positioning them firmly in time and place. But this was my first attempt in the literary field. Hobbling my efforts was the substance of the initial inspiration. The context of the dream in chapter fourteen was the dynamic event to change my character, or at least present him with an opportunity for introspection.

Extending the story from that vantage point seemed effortless, but how to lead to that point- that was the crux of my problem. Hills of Zion needed more than one main character to furnish a complete story, and so I daydreamed about the period of history. What kind of people, and from what walks of life, would search for the truth, and under what conditions?

Every story worth exploring must have both male and female characters. This led to Marie. I wanted her to contrast Perci, a sixteen-year old Norman page whose ambitions would drive him toward the destruction of his conscience. Marie needed to be intrinsically innocent, so she became an eleven-year old maiden. She would be severely abused by the political system, and somehow, Perci would intercede on her behalf. I didn’t want some unrealistic romanticized tale of love, so my story begins with an age gap to prevent this, at least in the immediate future.

Next came Beulan. I have always been a fan of Ireland, and many monks studied in that isolated quarter. So an Irish monk emerged as a key figure.

At this juncture, I had to decide on a solid time period. The only firm decision on this point was that the novel would take place in the Middle Ages. That narrowed the frame down to between 500 and 1500, a thousand years to consider!

The story had to occur during a time of severe religious persecution. I poured over history books and pinpointed an intriguing period when the Papacy had reached its zenith of power. Innocent III (far from innocent in actions) seemed to foot the bill. Relatively young, intelligent, and with an uncanny grasp for political persuasion and manipulation, he initiated the Albigensian Crusade against heretical groups and started the Inquisition. The first year of open conflict was 1209. Wanting some space to build my story, I opted for 1208.

As I studied the specific time period, the inspiration settled on me to incorporate some high figures in the Roman church. Knowing that leaders in that vast institution were not monolithic in their reaction to dissent, I chose three cardinals to represent the three basic attitudes held by those in religious authority. These three terms summarize those attitudes: passive, aggressive, and empathetic.

I developed Cardinal Michaud with empathy in mind. But he wasn’t to be a character that openly rebelled or traveled around consoling the faithful Christians who would be persecuted by the Inquisition. He must be a dynamic character who slowly awakens to the unrestrained violence toward individual conscience.

Cardinal Michaud needed an antagonist to pull him away from the Catholic mindset (the Waldensian minister, Jean) and an antagonist to force him into callous actions. Though Lotario (the Pope) controlled the pawns in this conflict, I created a lesser minion to antagonize Michaud, Cardinal Cencio.

Adding to the conflict of the narrative, I created a brother for Perci who would instigate a feud with the main character. For Jean, I created Marjorie, because every faithful minister needs a solid wife behind the scenes. I also needed a few assorted villains. Sir Charles (the Black Knight) was needed to drag Perci away from the peaceful voice of truth embodied in Marie. I also felt the need to create Willem, the crazed apostate who sold out his Waldensian brethren to save his own skin.

At this point, I felt confident that the all pieces necessary for a wide-ranging historical novel were in place. I just needed a suitable starting point. Almost immediately, I imagined a story frame. An old man would divulge this story to his grandchildren. The story would have stakes involved, not just for the story itself, but for the influence it may have on these two grandsons. They would be on the brink of making a poor decision that would destroy them either spiritually, or physically, or both.

A story frame was enacted so that the first chapter would be grandfather warning his descendants of their folly. The last chapter would shore up all the lessons they should have learned by listening to the tale. The grandfather would not reveal his identity in relation to the story.

But then came my most difficult dilemma. How do I take all these characters and infuse them in the story while maintaining continuity and the reader’s interest?

Years ago, I read my favorite book about the Battle of Gettysburg, Michael Shaara’s Killer Angels. One by one, he introduced the main characters, the movers of the battle events. Remaining mostly separate, the story jumped around the battle field, giving insight into the motivations and determination of each character. I settled on this type of format, for better or worse, and the rest is history.

My main concern with this format is that in the modern era, readers are impatient. They will not suffer through a story for ten pages before the action begins. The discerning modern reader wants the main character up front and in the thick of the fray instantly. They want to transition neatly from scene to scene with no conscious sidetracking to other pertinent events.

Dear readers, if you lean toward the “modern” mindset, you may be disappointed, or at least temporarily disoriented. My introduction gives fair warning to this fact. If you enjoy a slow build from varying angles, bearing their own complexities which later become both apparent and relevant, and you appreciate obscure periods of history, you will not be disappointed.

Since this is my first literary effort, I would like to end this blog with a question- how did you, as the reader, adjust to the unorthodox structure of Hills of Zion? Were you able to follow the events and connect the dots? Did you find it a fulfilling read, or were the obstacles in structure and style beyond your grasp? The author would like to know.