Rose-Owls and Pumpkin Girls

I have once again promised to make five posts answering questions about Toby's world to celebrate the release of an upcoming book. This is the last time I'm going to do this for Toby: the questions are getting too character and book-specific, which trends into spoiler territory. So if you had a burning world question, now would be the time to scroll back to my original entry and ask it.

This is post #4. I will make post #5 tomorrow.

enigmoid asks, "How do the fae remain hidden from the human world from cameras recording devices, and satellites? It only takes one mistake."

Ah, but you see, there are two assumptions here.

1) That fae illusions do not work on recording devices. They do.
2) That anyone would believe what they saw.

Mistakes have been made in the past, and I mean the recent past, not the old, dark, pre-hiding past. Illusions have slipped, things have been seen that shouldn't have been seen...and you know what? People shrugged it off. For every "I WANT TO BELIEVE!", there are ten "I do not want to live in a world where that is possible, and thus it is not possible." Consider the zombie walks, LARPs, comic book conventions, real-world superheroes, and Bigfoot seekers in our real, known world. Consider how few of those are reported as proof of the supernatural.

Now consider what an excellent source of camouflage they are.

Satellites are a different can of worms, and one with potentially more issues, since if the military spots a pod of Merrow, they're likely to respond...badly. But at the same time, that's where the fae predilection for hanging out in the Summerlands comes in handy. Most fae, if they're not indoors or playing human, are in knowes or the Summerlands. Why? Because they feel safer there, where there are no satellites.

So yes, it's a concern, and a good one. But willful blindness and basic caution do a lot to minimize it.

To celebrate the upcoming release of Ashes of Honor, I am answering five questions about Toby's world. This is the second.

So gwisteria asks, "Are there fire faeries or would their lifespan too short to warrant consciousness?"

Yes, Virginia, there is a Fire Kingdom.

Fae crop up everywhere in the world, from the depths of the ocean to the hearts of active volcanoes. They have their own culture, their own traditions, and their own creatures (we've seen salamanders, for example). Even most of the Firstborn don't visit the Fire Kingdoms, because unless they're extremely powerful shapeshifters, or just really, really fire-proof, being set on fire is still inconvenient.

Some fire fae do come to visit, but it's mostly the lava-equivalent of Selkies and Kelpies: the liminal fae, the ones who can do just fine in either environment. Peri are considered fire-fae, for example, as are Kesali, and both of those have been known to show up in Land courts. They usually avoid the Undersea, as being doused in water does not make fires of any sort particularly happy. There are doubtless some breeds of fire fae that have never been seen outside the heart of living volcanoes, slow falls of lava that sometimes open strangely human eyes and try to entice you to come just that little bit closer...

It isn't recommended.

Of all the lands in Faerie, the Fire Kingdoms are the most isolate, and the least likely to be visited on a whim. Most fae would die in an instant, and they lack the overlap of the land and sea or the land and air. It doesn't make them bad people, down there in the flames. It just makes them very, very, undeniably alien.

To prepare for the release of One Salt Sea, I said that I would answer five questions the world and cosmology of the Toby Daye books, thus preparing us for the fun and the glory of Tuesday's release. This is the last of the five posts.

kippurbird's inquiry was not posed in the form of a question, but is interesting all the same:

"I'd like to know more about merlins."

So would a lot of people, it seems, and it is because of that fact that I will now do as I am bid, and tell you more about merlins.

First off, merlins, small "m," are individuals with a tiny, tiny bit of fae blood—not enough to qualify them as a changeling, or cause them to look other than human-normal—who are nonetheless able to access some measure of fae magic. Merlin, big "M," was one of the first, and most notable, of these crossbreeds. Hence the term "merlin" being applied to the class as a whole.

So how much fae blood does it take to make a merlin? Not much. But if someone has too much, they'll be considered a changeling, which is a whole different ball of worms, and if they have too little, they'll be effectively human. Basically, if a faerie and a human have a kid, that kid will be a changeling (50/50). If that kid and a human have a kid, that kid will still be considered a changeling; just a very weak one (25/75). That kid's kids, however, will stand a very good chance of being merlins, as will their children. After two generations of merlins, sadly, you'll just get humans who maybe live a long time, or have a knack for finding fresh water. It's a short-lived gift.

(Yes, this has led to some families of merlins whose children marry each other, which can keep the magic alive for substantially longer, even if it does eventually lead to inbreeding and unpleasantness.)

Why do merlins matter? They're watered-down changelings, after all. They have little to no innate magic; they can't shapeshift or fly or teleport or do any of the other things that changelings and purebloods can do instinctively. So why don't the merlins just get trampled by their stronger relations?

Because they can use charms, potions, and written incantations, they aren't bothered by iron or bound by rowan, and they have none of the inborn limitations of true fae, that's why. A changeling or pureblood will always have checks and balances written into their very genetics, preventing them from accidentally destroying the world. Merlins don't have anything like that. They work their magic with external tools, and that keeps them from suffering from most of magic's nastier consequences. They are, in short, extremely dangerous. Many of them are also extremely devoted to gaining more power, more magic, more spells and tricks and charms. This can lead to some truly bloody encounters between them and the true fae, since a Puca's wings will fuel a lot of love charms. Not fun.

Most modern merlins keep their heads down and work primarily underground, since the fae are harder to find and faster to attack when actually troubled. But that can't last forever.

Someday, the merlins are going to present a problem.

This is the third of my five promised posts about the background of Toby's world, and it's addressing two closely related questions. Specifically, from markbernstein:

"There are multiple fae races. Do all of them trace their lineage back to Oberon, Titania, and Maeve? Is there a record of when each separate race came into being, and when was the last time that happened?"

...and kaleidors:

"How do you decide which mythical beings are real in Toby's world? Along with kitsune, are oni, kappa and tengu real? How about jiang shi? What about Abalone Woman from the mythology of northern California? When the fae came from Europe, did they displace or remove natives, or was there no one in California? (I remember talk about settling briefly in the book, but I cannot recall the particulars)."

Interesting questions!

First, the out-universe answer. All fae in Toby's world trace their lineage back to some combination of Oberon, Maeve, and Titania. Some have two of the First in their background, some only have one. The Cait Sidhe have all three, but they're a special case (as they so often are). This means that only mythical creatures whose backgrounds are somehow malleable can be subsumed into Toby's world. Kitsune, Tengu, Bakemono, Tsukumogami, Shi-Shu, Menehune, Nawao, and other creatures who don't have a very firm "and then so-and-so begat..." or who were originally presented as a lone individual and can be made into a race (such as the Blodynbryd) exist in Toby's reality. Other creatures, such as most of those found in Australian mythology, and pretty much all of Inuit or Native American folklore, don't exist, because there's no respectful way to say "and Oberon was your daddy's daddy's daddy, yay!" It's a juggling act. If I were establishing the rules of this universe today, I would probably either keep it more Euro-centric, to avoid possibly disrespecting another culture's folklore, or find a way to incorporate other fae monarchs in other places. I didn't do that when I wrote the first book, and so these are the rules I have to work with. If they're not descended from the Three, they don't exist.

Oh, and jiang shi don't exist because they're very explicitly dead in every accounting I can find. They'll eventually show up in InCryptid, which has very different rules.

Now, the in-universe answer:

We've established that all fae races trace their lineage back to the Three, by way of their Firstborn, who are the immediate descendants (children, although not always in a recognizeable sense) of the Three. The Undine, for example, were wept, not born, but are still children of Maeve. This includes Faerie's various monsters, although, so far as anyone knows, all the monsters are the result of the Firstborn tinkering, not the Three themselves. (This may or may not be true. I haven't decided, and since it's one of my few bits of beautiful indecision, I'm holding it for a while.) Regardless, everything in Faerie finds its way back to the Three, one way or another.

Here's where it gets complicated. The children of the Three are Firstborn, and while they can be similar, they are always entirely unique in all the world. Most of them can blend into their own descendant races, pretending to be what they create, but they'll always stand a little bit apart, no matter how hard they try to disappear. They get good with illusions and minor shapeshifts, because otherwise, they'd never have any peace. No one knows how many Firstborn are still alive. They don't want anyone to know.

The libraries track the lineages and the origin points, when they're known. Good luck getting a pass to the stacks.

Any time a Firstborn takes a new lover and has children, the child or children will begin a new race. Firstborn are more fertile than normal fae, partially because otherwise, no races would ever become established. The Roane Firstborn, for example, had three children, and those three went on to beget all the rest of the Roane. As for when the last time this happened was...

Firstborn still exist. Firstborn may still have children. So maybe it was yesterday. But things move slowly in Faerie, and children are only born so fast. So who knows?

Yesterday I said that, to celebrate the upcoming release of One Salt Sea, I would once again make five blog posts detailing the background aspects of Toby's reality. This is the first of those posts.

liret asks "Can parents of changelings send their child off to the Summerlands alone and stay with their mortal spouses? I got the impression that Amandine was as stuck as Toby after Toby went through the Changeling's Choice, but I was wondering if arranging for a foster-family and writing the kid off was also possible."

The short answer: No.

The longer-form answer is, naturally, a little more complex.

For those of you who aren't aware, the Changeling's Choice is the process via which changeling children (fae/human crossbreeds) are presented with the two sides of their heritage. Pick fae, be whisked away to Faerie and never see your human family again. Pick mortal, your fae parent has to kill you on the spot. There are no takebacks; this is not something that can be negotiated. The Changeling's Choice is a necessary part of playing fairy bride.

The only exceptions are the weak-blooded fae, like Stacy or Marcia. Their magic was clearly strong enough to have triggered the Changeling's Choice at some point, since they're in Faerie, but if either of them were to have children with a human, there's a fifty/fifty chance that those kids would never manifest measurable magic, which means the Choice would never be triggered. (This is how we wind up with merlins.) Toby slept with Cliff knowing she might get pregnant, and chose to ride the odds as to whether Gilly would fall into that "magic too weak to become visible" sub-category. Since Gilly is still with her mortal family, and they haven't noticed anything unusual about her, Toby's gamble appears to have paid off.

Now, here's the thing: when a changeling is removed from the mortal world, either through abduction or death, they don't just vanish. That would leave too many questions unanswered, and could result in people searching for their children long past the point where it would be safe for Faerie to have them looking. Toby's father found bodies in the remains of the house; Natasha and October Daye were both declared dead, and were buried in Colma. Toby's father is buried next to what he assumed was his wife, but was actually a night-haunt's mannequin.

So could someone send their kid packing and stay with their mortal spouse? Sure, if they were able to convince their liege (and everyone has a liege, even if it's just the local King or Queen) that they could absolutely sell the idea that their child was dead, find a foster family, get the kid to choose Faerie, ship the kid off without getting caught, and manage to weather the aftermath of the "accident" without making any mistakes or getting accused of murder. Hint: this is very, very hard, especially given that most fae are incredibly attached to their children. Many purebloods think of human lovers as nothing more than a convenient way to get a baby, and would never even consider picking a spouse over a child.

In the event that a fae parent somehow convinced their liege that they could pull all this off, and then actually did manage to pull it all off, they would never be allowed to see that child again, and would have a seriously hard time convincing other fae to date them, since they have just proven that they're shitty parents. (I am aware that this is an apparent contradiction, given the fae fosterage system. Most societies are built on minor contradictions, and at least under normal fosterage, you'll eventually get the kid back. You know. When they finish being a teenager.)

So it's logistically hard, emotionally difficult, and culturally frowned upon. Technically, it's possible. Functionally, it's something no fae parent would really consider doing, even if they wanted to.

I recently volunteered to make five detailed blog posts on things people wanted to know about the Toby universe, and provided a dedicated thread for them to make their suggestions. While these posts will not be specifically spoiler-y for published books, they will provide background material on the universe, and can be viewed as part of my functional canon. This is the fourth such post.

sumeria asks, "How relevant really is the existence of "royal" members of the Cait Sidhe, if they determine the ruler by combat? I had assumed there was no real royal family until Tybalt made such a big deal of Raj being the only younger royal there was and Toby seemed to assume that Raj would one day replace Tybalt. Or is it just that only royals can fight for the right to rule? (also, the assumption that Tybalt will be replaced seems odd to me, just in that if he's immortal, he should theoretically grow stronger, not weaken with age)"

Come one, come all, to the Jellicle Ball! It's time to talk Cait Sidhe.

Now, the first thing we have to address is "Why do the Cait Sidhe get their own government?" The short form is that they went to Oberon and petitioned him for it, and he was so impressed by the fact that they had the audacity to do so that he gave them what they wanted. Ask and ye shall receive, in other words. Part of what made it possible for them to get away with it is their relationship with the Shadow Roads. There are other races in Faerie, like the Candela, who can access something similar, but only the Cait Sidhe can use the Shadow Roads for distance travel, or to connect places that are geographically unconnected. So when they asked for their own government, they were able to promise that their Courts would only use space that no one else had a claim to. At the time, the Cait Sidhe had a good relationship with all three of their Firstborn, and were able to get them to back the claim. So the Court of Cats was born.

The Court of Cats is not subject to the whims of the local monarchy, although it is subject to Oberon's Laws...with one major exception. Cait Sidhe are permitted to kill each other over succession, providing it happens openly, and is not a matter of assassination. They have a violent society, and their laws reflect that.

Cait Sidhe don't handle succession the way the regular Courts do, in part because they accept all their changelings as full members of their society. It's rare to find a Cait Sidhe Court that doesn't include multiple human- and cat-form changelings, none of whom are looked down upon for the circumstances of their birth. This means that bloodlines get complicated, as there are Cait Sidhe who are the children of fae who were the children of a changeling and a pureblood, or quarter-blood children who were born in the Court and have never entered the mortal world. Many Cait Sidhe Kings and Queens have bevvies of changeling children, using their existence to prove that they can provide for their people. So heredity is not necessarily a factor. So what does "royal" mean?

"Royal," among the Cait Sidhe, is a measure of strength of magic. A royal Cait Sidhe must be able to travel the Shadow Roads without hindrance; carry others with them; transform from cat to human and back again, without any unwanted traits bleeding over from one shape to another; cast basic illusions; open doors between the deepest Court of Cats and the Summerlands; create Courts by hewing small spaces out of the Shadows and keeping them open, essentially as temporary shallowings, until they are no longer needed; command loyalty; and die and come back. This is not a comment set of skills. Most Cait Sidhe can access the Shadow Roads, cast illusions, and change forms...but not all of them. Some Cait Sidhe are always bipedal, or always cats. Some Cait Sidhe have tails in their human forms, or no tails in their cat forms. And so it goes.

There are also specific talents related to Kings of Cats and Queens of Cats, but that's something for another day.

Royal Cait Sidhe are relatively rare, which is probably a good thing, since it means that succession fights are also relatively rare. Most areas will have a King and a Queen, each with their own Court; Kings and Queens of Cats do not tend to get along very well, and will very rarely operate their Courts in the same city. In the San Francisco Bay Area, for example, Tybalt maintains the Court of Dreaming Cats in San Francisco, while the nearest Queen is centered in Berkeley. They can, and do, enter one another's territory, but for the most part, they tend to stay in "their" cities.

Courts must have royals to stay stable. Their Kings and Queens are their protectors, and the lines which keep the Cait Sidhe from becoming totally lawless, and thus a danger to the rest of Faerie. Part of the agreement with Oberon was that the royal Cait Sidhe would do this thing, no matter how much they didn't want to.

Kings and Queens must take their thrones through combat. This is true. Most of the time, however, this combat is ritual at best; it's fairly rare for a sitting King or Queen who hasn't become a total despot to be forcibly deposed. Cats don't necessarily like responsibility, after all, and being King or Queen for all time is going to get boring. Kings and Queens of Cats tend to adopt potential heirs, train them, and then, if they judge the heirs to be suitable, essentially cede the throne. The fight still happens, and it's a pretty bloody one—the throne can't go to an unsuitable ruler—but it's not as serious as it would be if they didn't already intend to step down.

Toby assumes Raj will eventually take Tybalt's place because she assumes Tybalt will either a) get himself killed somehow, or b) get bored. He's been King of Dreaming Cats since the late 1800s, which isn't that long for a fae reign, but is a very long time for a cat. Also, the fact that he allows Raj to stay means that he's probably considering giving up his throne sometime in the next ten to seventy years.

Once Tybalt is no longer a King of a specific Court, he'll still be a King of Cats, and may eventually have another Court of his own. That won't happen until he's ready for it, however; witness Barbara from ALH Computing, who was a Queen without a dedicated Court, and seemed happy that way.

And that is Cait Sidhe succession. Any questions?

ETA: This is the "how do they govern" post, not the "detailed biology" post. No further questions about Cait Sidhe biology will be answered. Thank you for understanding.

I recently volunteered to make five detailed blog posts on things people wanted to know about the Toby universe, and provided a dedicated thread for them to make their suggestions. While these posts will not be specifically spoiler-y for published books, they will provide background material on the universe, and can be viewed as part of my functional canon. This is the second such post, and is taken from multiple related questions.

faithfulcynic asked, "Can you break down Court hierarchy for us and talk a little about title inheritance? I know that the King of Cats has to be won but is that the same with other courts? Would a changeling ever have a shot at ruling a court? Could Sylvester ever rule them all? Does relationship to the Big Three play a part?"

hanabishirecca said, "Toby's universe has a complex system of fiefdoms and courts that have been seen to be caught in a supernatural version of real world politics. Sovereignty seems to be shaky in many cases...I don't necessarily want an entire political history lesson, but I'm fascinated with the division of territory. I'd love to know what it takes to be appointed your own title and piece of land, to what lies at the very top of the feudalistic rankings. Really, anything on this would make me happy."

And drakos_inferno said, "I'll echo a few other people—can we get a who's in charge flow chart of some sort?"

Let's talk politics! Yaaaaay!

So first off: who's in charge? Oberon. Dude doesn't even need a title. He's just, you know, Oberon. He's also missing, and has been for several hundred years, along with both Maeve and Titania, who are also in charge. When the three of them fight, watch out. They're collectively known as the King and Queens of Faerie; that's their territory, that's their fiefdom, and that's where their word is law. Again, however, missing, and even before they went missing, they needed the equivalent of local governments to save them from spending all their time telling their kids to stop hitting each other. Enter the fae system of governance. Now, the main thing to remember here is that all these people essentially serve at the pleasure of the President. If Oberon says you lose your throne, you lose your throne. If Titania says you're finished, you're finished. So fae monarchs are always, always aware that they could be deposed just for wearing shoes that Maeve doesn't like. For the most part, they muddle through anyway, because power is neat.

At the top of the non-Three fae government food chain, you have the High Kings and Queens. There's usually one of them to a region, with "region" being determined by a combination of population density, amount of time the fae have been living in the region, and whether anyone's gone to war to schism off a new High Demesne. (Note: This is a dangerous proposition. If you don't have the buy-in from the majority of the current reigning High Kings and Queens, no one's going to help you do it, and you're going to get your ass kicked.) There are currently quite a few High Demesnes, but the one we're primarily concerned with is North America, the royal seat of which is located in Toronto.

The original High Kings and Queens were chosen by Oberon, Maeve, and Titania, and were a fairly broad representation of the races and ideals of Faerie. In the modern era, most of them are Daoine Sidhe. Make of this what you will (and hint, "we like assassinating people for their thrones, it's fun" is a perfectly reasonable line of thought). At this point, the title is hereditary, unless you manage to get yourself deposed. High Kings and Queens have absolute authority over those Kingdoms contained in their High Demesne, unless contradicted by one of the Three, which hasn't happened recently (for obvious reasons). They mostly don't mess with things, unless those things are threatening to mess with them.

Once the original High Kings and Queens were chosen, they proceeded to choose Regional Kings and Queens. Think of it as sort of like the relationship between the President of the United States and the Governor of Oregon. Yes, the President is technically the boss of him, but odds are good that he can do almost anything he wants, short of killing his constituents, before the President gets involved. Again, these positions started as a good racial and idealistic mix, and have managed to maintain a bit more of their diversity, largely because a sitting monarch can only be deposed by a) the Three or b) actual warfare—taking a throne away from someone without a good reason is one of the only things the High Kings and Queens can't do. So once the Daoine Sidhe started deposing the High Kings and Queens, the Regional Kings and Queens got a lot more passionate about maintaining large armies. It's fun! Again, once given a throne, the throne is hereditary, and will remain with a family until that family is wiped out, deposed, or manages to piss off the Three.

Now we hit the tricky part. See, not all parts of a High Demesne will be part of a Regional Kingdom. In North America, for example, the High King and Queen maintain Ontario, Quebec, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland and Labrador as their own private holdings; the first Regional Kingdoms are Frozen Sun (Manitoba and Minnesota, roughly) to the west, and Lakes to the south. That means that all crimes committed in the private holdings of the High King and Queen go straight to them, with no intermediate monarch. Sort of like going to the Supreme Court over a traffic ticket. Oddly, this doesn't make their populace any better-behaved.

Let's keep things getting trickier. Dukes/Duchesses, Marquis/Marquessas, Counts/Countesses, Viscounts/Viscountesses, Barons/Baronesses, Earls, Lords/Ladies, Knights, and a variety of other lesser nobles fall under the Kings and Queens. Most of the time, it'll follow the ranking of the list above. But not always. In some areas, a Marquis may be considered to outrank a Duke (not many, however). This is basically the local ruler's to decide. There are quite a few unlanded nobles at this point, thanks to Faerie's many, many wars, and an unlanded noble will always be outranked by a landed noble of the same title. So...Sylvester, a Duke, outranks Evening, a Countess. Simon, an unlanded Baron, outranks Toby, a knight, but would be outranked by a landed Baron. Again, all these titles tend to be hereditary...

Unless, of course, your children are changelings. Changelings cannot inherit lands or titles from their fae parents. They can be granted by the crown, but that is the only way for them to rise in fae governance, and even then, it's going to be very local. Toby was knighted by Sylvester. Most people in the Mists will respect that, if only to avoid pissing off Shadowed Hills. If Toby were to travel to the Kingdom of Angels, who knows what would happen? A changeling can, of course, take a title by force of arms, but any changeling who chose to do that would need to be prepared to have a lot of people gunning for them. A lot of people.

Titles are passed either when the title-holder dies, as in the case of King Gilad Windermere, the former regent of the Mists, or when the title-holder chooses to step down and cede all right to their place. This prevents assassinations, at least most of the time. The only way a forsaken title can be reclaimed is if the current holder dies with no named heir, and the former title-holder is judged entirely without blame in their death. This doesn't happen very often. There are some "lost" titles, connected to objects, family lines, missing knowes, or ancient mysteries. It's doubtful whether those claims could be proven if they were brought forth, but wouldn't it be fun to try?

You'll note that the Kings and Queens of Cats are not covered here. This is because they are considered, by Oberon's edict, to essentially have diplomatic immunity in any of the "noble" Courts, so long as they don't go interfering. They settle their succession in completely different, and usually quite bloody, ways.

So that's the quick and dirty version of politics in Toby's world. If you have any follow-up questions, feel free to ask them here.

With Late Eclipses approaching fast, I am naturally spending a lot of time thinking about Toby's world, and blogging about Toby's world, since I want everyone to be as excited as I am. So here is your invitation:

Ask me a question.

This has no connection to the current ARC giveaway, which asks you to ask simple, FAQ-style questions that don't require extensive spoilers or flowcharts. What this is connected to is, well, the big questions. Like when I posted about the rules governing fae marriage. The ones that require serious thought, and a genuine desire to know.

How does fae marriage work? Where did the Changeling's Choice begin? What happened to the Roane? Questions too big, and too complicated, to answer in the FAQ. Now, because I apparently wasn't clear enough the first time, I WILL NOT GIVE SPOILERS. Please don't ask me where someone is, or whether someone else is coming back, or whether you're ever going to see Gillian again (a question which has started to make me clench my teeth). Ask me about laws and rules and universe, about etiquette and speciation and trends in fashion.

The five best questions will get full blog posts about them, explaining whatever facet or facets of Faerie they touch on. I get to determine "best," although you're all welcome to weigh in or ask secondary questions.

Hello, and welcome to the thirtieth essay in my ongoing series of essays on the art and craft of writing. Thirty! That's a pretty big number, and it's just set to get bigger, since all these essays are based around my original fifty thoughts on writing. (On the plus side, this also means we're sixty percent of the way there.) Here's our thought for today:

Thoughts on Writing #30: Continuity Trapper Keeper.

This is definitely one of those that needs a little expansion before it starts making sense. Here you go:

If you're writing any sort of series, whether it be a series of short stories or a series of novels, you need a continuity guide. The format is up to you. The level of detail is up to you. But believe me, even if you somehow manage to forget that your hero has green eyes and turn them hazel, your readers won't, and they will eat your soul.

When I was a kid, I found continuity errors unbelievably offensive. If I could always remember your main character's favorite sandwich, childhood pet, and preferred route to the spooky old house on the top of the hill, why couldn't you, the author, remember the same things? You created them!

Ah, the innocence of youth. Let's talk continuity, why it matters, and how to maintain it. Ready? Good. Let's begin.

( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on continuity tracking. )