From Harmingsdown to Yesteryear

The third book of the Edmund Moulde quadrilogy was fun to write. I enjoyed coming up with all the little world-creative details, creating a world that was as much about fun little things as it was about people. All in all, while I can’t seem to ever allow myself a sense of satisfaction with my work, I can at least nowadays see some virtue in it.

But all good things must come to an end, and so on Monday I will begin posting my final book in the Edmund Quadrilogy: The Last Days of Yesteryear.

How does one finish a four-book story? I had several ideas to start with, and perhaps unfortunately added some more during the writing. Is it perhaps tradition at this point to say that I think I tried to do too much in one book? Nevertheless, I think I did.

But what could I cut? I had so many things I simply needed to do, not the least of which was the meetings with the rest of the Founding Families. I had to bring back Googoltha. I had to deal with the Church. I had to bring back Edmund’s family. I needed to wrap things up.

And there are a lot of endings to this one. Bit of a spoiler: There’s the Church’s invasion, the signing of the contract to Wislydale, tea with Junapa, Edmund with the Gallium, Edmund at the orphanage, and the Epilogue. I had five of these in mind going into the book. Peter Jackson eat your heart out.

Re-reading the story, I’m not certain I made the correct choice in giving Edmund Gallium at the end. Thematically, Edmund is supposed to lose, and giving him that clear win subverts the idea that losing was winning. But I was being too clever by half, and so all the endings remain.

I have long since lost the ability to say whether or not the story is “good” or not. At best, I can satisfy myself that it certainly has enough that the creative and interested could see the shape of what it could be. Perhaps some day I’ll run these books through a few more revisions, and get something I’m a bit more proud of.

Until then, I present a rougher draft:

Matron Moulde is dead. Long live Patron Moulde.

There is so much to take care of; the letters, the arrangements, the finances, the solicitors, the estate, the wedding, the well-wishers, the harm-bringers, the Church, the Police…

“Who is this Orphan Prince?” whisper the landed-gentry. “Above all else, who is he?”

For years, Edmund had known the answer quite clearly; but now with Matron dead, he must come to terms with the fact that he might not know himself very well at all. Is he really a Moulde? He could fight a war to save a school, save a country over an early dinner, but in the wake of Matron’s passing, can he finally prove both to the world and himself that he truly is worthy of the title Patron? Of the family name?

Can he finally do what Matron adopted him to do and save the Moulde Family from poverty, disrespect, and destitution once and for all?

Or are these the last days of yesteryear?