CHAR is second in a series begun by my novella OPAL, the main character of which is no longer the young queen Opal, but an entirely new character named Luna. Luna came to me in a series of images that caught my imagination and clung. Like the Changing Woman of myth, representing the phases of the moon and the life of a female as daughter, mother and old crone, I glimpsed Luna in a series of roles. I first saw her as a child, barefoot and cloaked in red, standing in the center of a ring of thrones, courageously awaiting her fate at the hands of a powerful few. Next I saw a young woman with skin the color of night, slipping silently from the human world on the wings of a moth (hence the name Luna, which means “of the moon.” Luna is also a species of magnificent moths). But perhaps the most impressive image I had was that of a woman made haggard by her own grief and isolation, living in a house of human bones and charred wood, alone in a world that shunned her, whispered accusations of a witch growing like poison around her.
That last image served as the beginning of CHAR, with the rest of the “witch’s” story unfolding in the heart of the book. Who could love a murderous witch with uncontrollable power?
To tell the truth, I found myself watching the moon instead of my path and got a bit lost in the telling; Luna took over a story I hadn’t initially intended to be hers. Ah, well. Such is the enchantment of a good witch.