Brooke Shaffer

So the other day, Adam and I were watching Star Trek on TV (Deep Space Nine and Voyager) and I remembered something about the earlier Star Trek shows that few are probably consciously aware of.

From the beginning, Gene Roddenberry decreed that ST was not allowed to have conflict between characters onboard the Enterprise or in Starfleet in general.  Not that they had to sing kum-bah-yah, but there was not allowed to be drama and major conflict between them.  This changed with Deep Space Nine and all subsequent series/movies because GR kicked the bucket and the writers were given more leeway.

Now, regardless of the preaching early episodes spouted, the overall concept of the no-drama policy actually wasn't too bad.  GR wanted to illustrate a future in which humanity had finally come together and put aside differences.  As a storytelling technique, I think it's fabulous.  Let me illustrate.

Turn on any TV show today and there is inevitably drama between characters.  Soap operas are all about the drama.  But any decent show inevitably succumbs to the temptation of manufactured conflict.  Chicago Fire is a good example.  House is another example.  The original premise of the show is pushed aside for personal problems that eventually take over the whole thing.  And I'm not saying that it's bad to change things up now and again to keep things fresh and interesting, but the answer is not always drama.

My favorite ST series is The Next Generation.  Hate me, shun me, it's true.  I grew up on Captain Picard.  Captain Janeway and Voyager is a close second, but I'm going to go with TNG for this piece.

TNG was a little preachy in the beginning, and some of the episodes are rather ridiculous.  But in not having extensive personal conflict between characters, it allowed for more focus on the plot.  How do we stop the Romulans from taking over this sector of space?  How do we keep the peaceful inhabitants of this planet safe from an asteroid heading straight for them?  How do we deal with this omnipotent Q continuum?  How do we gather the information we need without tainting the thoughts and imaginations of a primitive society?

Plot moved plot.  It allowed for a cleaner story arc over the course of the season and allowed for some phenomenal character growth.  Picard being assimilated by the Borg was a stunning twist, and with no drama to muck it up, it begged the question of how they were going to rescue him or would they be forced to potentially kill him?  It made that decision so much more important.  Similarly, Worf's divided loyalties between the Federation and the Empire, his war over whether to honor his duty to his uniform or his duty to his family and his honor, it came as a pivotal moment in the series, not just another cheap plot twist designed to move a slow-moving, drama-riddled, sludgy series along.

In the first season, Tasha Yar was killed off.  Behind the scenes, she felt as though she wasn't being respected and her character was underutilized, etc., and she wanted out.  In the show, though, it showed a level of seriousness that the characters might not always be safe.  Tasha's dead.  Would Worf leave and return to the Empire?  Would Picard be lost to the Borg forever?  These are questions about plot.  They're not cheap thrills from personal dramatic conflicts, an annoying Will-they-won't-they, ultimately who cares?  And even in Star Trek: Nemesis, that moment when you are praying that it will be a happy ending to the series once and for all, and Data sacrifices himself, it matters because there isn't a ton of baggage following him.

That's not to say that personal conflict should never happen.  Having no personal conflict at all is unrealistic and can grow very stale after a while.  Similarly, characters still need to have a measure of personality.  Wesley Crusher is an excellent example of how to write a two-dimensional character.  But keeping it to a minimum is not a bad thing.

A good example of getting off the high road and into the mud really comes in Deep Space Nine.  Written after GR's death, when the writing restrictions were loosened, DSN got off Cloud 9 and the idea that humanity now sings kum-bah-yah, and it started tackling some more complex issues.  It managed to stay largely away from the drama, and it focused more on the serious side of things, war rather than exploration, dealing with the Dominion and the Maquis at the same time.

Voyager, I think, came the closest to being overridden with personal drama.  It was well-managed in the sense that it was believable and also moderately suppressed.  One little Federation craft is stuck on the other side of the galaxy in the Delta Quadrant and has to make it home.  None of the present crew are expected to survive; it will be all of their children and grandchildren.  Being stuck in close quarters with so many people under those conditions is going to put some strain on people, and personal conflict is absolutely expected, as well as some ill-advised romantic encounters.  At the same time, they are alone with no allies and no backup, and if they want to make it home at all, they have to get along and make things work.

Basically, what I'm getting at is that you don't need a ton of drama to have a well-rounded story.  Let plot move plot, and let the characters develop in such a way that when things happen, they mean something.  Foreshadowing is good, but continuously adding drama baggage is not.  Would Worf's departure have been as dramatic if he had constantly fought with Picard and made threats to leave and generally not gotten along with anyone?  No.  But building up his character as being the only Klingon in Starfleet, having that divide, siding with Starfleet for so long but now having to make this awful choice, it means something.  It is a monument to be recognized, not another marker on a long trail.

Brooke Shaffer

This last week, Adam and I went to see the new remake of The Lion King.  This post will have some general, vague spoilers, but quite frankly, it's a remake.  And if you don't know the story by now, you're either a child or an idiot.  Point is, there will be spoilers.

Anyway, seeing the new remake got me thinking about editing and how stories change.  So this post will be about editing and refining, as well as some periods of ranting about the new Lion King.

That said, the first thing I have to get off my chest is that they absolutely ruined several key points in the movie.  Not in the sense of plot, just in execution.  For example, in the gorge scene, the original animated version far exceeds the remake in that the emotion is so raw.  I burst into tears when Scar says, very slowly, "Long live the king," throws Mufasa off the ledge, and Simba screams, "No!"  I get chills just thinking about it.  The new remake misses it so bad, it's like the time you go to kick a soccer ball and wind up on your butt.  The emotion in the new remake is so underwhelming it just murders the story.

AHEM.  So, anywho, it will now be noted that not every complaint I have about The Lion King can be directly applied to a written work.  While it can be difficult to convey the exact intonation you want your reader to hear when reading certain lines from certain characters, varying your word choice can aid in this.  Even simple changes can have an effect on the scene.  Compare:

"I'm not going," he said.
"I'm not going," he stated.
"I'm not going," he commented.
"I'm not going," he insisted.

Even without the use of adverbs, changing the word can subtly change the overall meaning or intention of the phrase.  Going back to The Lion King:

"Long live the king," he said.
"Long live the king," he growled.
"Long live the king," he hissed.

I'm sorry, that just really bothered me.  I almost cried because it was so bad.

Moving on to something that can be considered for both visual and written stories.  Plot.

One thing that the remake Lion King has over the original animated one is Scar's relationship to the hyenas.  In the original, it's just kind of assumed that he's their pal and sort of a pseudo-leader and that's why they follow him.  No explanation is given as to how they became friends (and anyone who cites the books or comics or anything like that is going to be mauled because we're talking straight apples-to-apples comparison) or why they haven't attempted anything like this before.  In the remake, Scar is not automatically their leader.  Instead, Shenzi is the leader and Scar goes to her with a proposal, one leader speaking to another.  This closes up a lot of holes in my opinion, and I found this thread to be far more believable and well-developed than simply a given or assumed plot point.

I'm not trying to say that everything needs a long, drawn-out backstory.  And, really, Scar and the hyenas don't have one in the remake.  It simply gets restructured.

Another point that got reworked is the lead-in to the gorge scene.  In the original, Scar just tells Simba that his father has a surprise for him and to sit on a rock.  Oh, and to practice his little roar.  While Simba does practice his roar, etc. etc., there was never a guarantee that he would.  In the remake, Scar tells Simba that he can make up to his father by roaring so loud that it goes beyond the rim of the gorge.  Then his father will forgive him for the graveyard incident.  It doesn't add anything, but it makes it more believable. (But this does not forgive the treachery of a failed gorge scene.)

I think the best part, strictly speaking action, was the final duel between Scar and Simba.  It was little overdone with unnecessary dialogue, but the fight itself was stunning.  It was an actual fight, not just a little catfight (see what I did there?) relying on slow motion.  Translating this to books, sometimes you have to skip the dialogue and go to the action.  Make sure you have good spatial description to ensure action that can be followed, but don't have your foes constantly hurling insults at each other.  Your scene might be a little shorter, but better to have a scene that's short and good than so long your reader starts skipping over parts just to get to the end and find out what happens.

When editing your story, going back over the first draft and wondering how the hell you thought it was anything even resembling a masterpiece, you don't always have to add more and more and more and try to explain and explain your explanations and build this whole monster.  Sometimes, the best thing you can do is make a few tweaks here and there.  Ask yourself what would happen if you kept things the same, and what would happen if you changed things.  Maybe something needs to change, maybe it would be better staying the same.

Let's look at something else that is universal across visual and written media: characters.

Oh boy, where do I begin?  A lot of my complaints stem from lack of emotion in the remake.  Scar was a dastardly character, but his vocal emotion in the remake was lacking.  This goes back to the point about word choice.  See above.

The other offender in this category is Rafiki.  His transformation in the remake was a huge love-hate for me.  On the one hand, he was given a much more believable medicine man role, and I absolutely loved the incorporation of the Zulu language into his character.  On the other hand, I feel like they made him too serious.  In the original, he laughed and jumped around and you couldn't help but get excited when he realizes Simba is alive.  And you can't help but laugh at his object lesson, whacking Simba on the head with his staff.  His conversation with Simba at the pool is so much more mature and developed in the remake, but I feel like the bridge between the conversation, the appearance of Mufasa (a CGI fail if there ever was one), and Simba's decision to go back, well, it kind of got burned.

My point with Rafiki, as far as character development, is that you don't have to choose between authenticity and personality.  Maybe the humor is a little different, maybe his actions are a little quirky, but a character that is too serious is no fun, no matter how unequivocal their wisdom may be.

Now then, for a point that is part plot and part character.  Pumbaa.  Love him, he's great, and pretty true to character across the remake.  The one thing about his appearance that made me want to grab a producer and punch him in the face was Pumbaa's unwanted PSA about being called fat.  In the original, there's this little bit about him being called a pig.  He is a pig, and he owns up to it, but you must call him "Mr. Pig."  In the remake, he goes off on some unwanted political body-positive PSA about being called plump or chunky or something of the sort.  Good God, if you want to pull a reader out of the story, put in a PSA.  I understand that characters have opinions and biases and leanings, and these may seriously drive their thoughts and actions.  But if you want just the PSA, your better bet is to sell a little ad space in your book so readers can rip it out later and get it over with.

Next up is an address to filler characters.  The remake introduced a whole community into Timon and Pumbaa's neighborhood.  This was a good move, in my opinion, because it helps to fill out the scene.  Timon, Pumbaa, and Simba are not the only ones living in their beautiful forest, and I can imagine that other animals might be a little leery of having a lion around, even if he is friendly.  And I will say that while their rendition of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" may have carried on a little long, I thought it was funny as hell when it suddenly got cut off as Nala attacked.  Unfortunately, I think the filler characters ended up being overused by their appearance at the end.  Timon and Pumbaa came because they're Simba's friends, but there was no indication that any of the other animals were okay with Simba being around, as evidenced by the butterfly incident.  So what made them come all the way to the Pride Lands where the lions rule?  It doesn't make any sense.  Sometimes, you have to leave your characters where they lie.

I do have other complaints, but they generally fall solely within the context of the movie itself.  I am a little disappointed that they took out Timon's luau scene (and the best they could do was "Be Our Guest"?  Really?) but at the same time, I'm not sure how they could have put it in.  The same with the changes to "I Just Can't Wait To Be King."  Once the change in style is made, some things need to be cut.  And that happens.  You can't always keep everything.  If you do your story right, it should be a loose domino effect.  Change one thing and more things should change because of it.  Maybe not drastically, but they should.  Otherwise you're left with a series of disconnected events, like an anthology.

There is probably more to it than this, but I also intentionally waited a few days to write this so as to keep the ranting to a minimum.  The idea was to make this educational and a learning experience for those who have finished their first draft and are wondering how to make good changes in their second draft.  I fear I have failed.  It does read more like a rant.  I don't know.  Maybe you took something from it.

At any rate, it is worthwhile to compare remakes.  Disney is making it even easier with all the remakes they've been doing.  Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King.  I fully intend to do another one on the Mulan remake for the sheer fact that the remake is going to be more historically accurate and will not follow the original animated movie.  That alone is worth a look when you consider plot and characters.

If nothing else, you got my thoughts on The Lion King remake, so if you've been on the fence about it, maybe this will sway you one way or the other.

-Brooke Shaffer

Just to clarify right off the bat, this has nothing to do with the media as we understand it to be the news.  This has to do with media meaning music, TV, and especially movies.  The fun media that we like to consume in some fashion.

I actually thought about this with any seriousness last December when I was interviewing for the Author Next Door (National Writers' Series).  She was asking about how far the series was going to go and this and that.  And then, with the release of Of Saints and Sinners, I actually considered that I am building a universe, and that such things are becoming more and more common.

When I say a media universe, the first thing you may think of is the Marvel Cinematic Universe.  Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, The Avengers, Black Panther, Doctor Stranger, and so on.  Ten years, dozens of movies.  Even if you don't watch it, chances are, you've heard of it.  What makes it a universe is that each story is (typically) independent of each other, yet it follows a (loose) general timeline (Captain America comes after Iron Man but they aren't direct sequels).  And every so often, characters will cross over.

In the book world, my favorite example of this is The Books of History Chronicles by Ted Dekker.  You've got The Circle series, the Showdown series, and others.  Each series is independent, but they all revolve around the Books of History.

The Timekeeper Chronicles is very similar to this, though it's only just begun to blossom.  The Chivalrous Welshman will remain the backbone of events and can be read without the aid of other series.  Likewise, other series can be read by themselves and have a distinct beginning, middle, and conclusion.  Of Saints and Sinners is able to be read by itself, though it is much more fun to tie it into the rest of the universe.  In the future, there will be more series to read: The Hands of Time, Akari-Bearer, and at least one more single, just to name a few.

But I was thinking the other day, why do it?  It's a lot of time, both to write and to read, and it can also add up monetarily.  Why do we like media universes?  What is the goal?

I think the answer is both simple and complex (yeah, yeah, I know, good going, very insightful).  But when we break it down into basic elements, it makes the bigger picture easier to understand.

Why do people write books?
This is the first question.  Why write at all?  Non-fiction aside,most people write fiction simply to entertain, to escape.  And the basic elements of a book is a beginning, middle, and end to a plot.  This can come in a variety of forms, the hero's journey, the three act sequence, or something totally off the wall.  We meet characters and follow them on adventures.  Sometimes, books are written to e serials, that is, independent books that feature the same characters and may follow a typical plot structure but can be read in any order.  Examples might be the Doctor Who novels, or many children's books like Clifford the Big Red Dog.  The Chronicles of Narnia may be a series or a serial because, although it follows a loose linear timeline, the books can generally be read in any order.

When does a book become a series?
A book becomes a series when there is more action to be had beyond a simple beginning, middle, and end, that can't be contained by three to five hundred pages, or whatever it is.  That's when arcing becomes important.

Perhaps the most common and easiest to explain example is almost any TV show.  I'll use the ninth season of Doctor Who as an example.  Each episode was its own thing, with a bad guy to be defeated or puzzles to solve or whatever, but the overarching theme was figuring out the identity of Bad Wolf.  At the very end of the season, viewers discover that it is, in fact, Rose. (Sorry, but Season 9 was so long ago, if you don't know that by now, then too bad.)

Many series, whether visual or written, have an overarching plot involving the protagonist and antagonist and an ongoing conflict between them.  The series typically ends when the bad guy is defeated, whether through political maneuvering that takes more than four hundred pages to detail, or a physical confrontation that requires more time to make it believable and impactful on the reader.

When does a series become a universe?
I'd say a series becomes a universe when there are multiple series revolving around the same overarching plot or theme.  In the case of The Timekeeper Chronicles, the overarching theme is Timekeeping, the Akari, and a number of considerations when it comes to its impact on humanity socially, culturally, religiously, politically, and so on.  Each book contributes to this with its own plot adding into a larger plot theme for the series which connects with other series in the universe.

Why write a universe versus a series?
The first question should be why write a series, other than extending a particular plotline?  Often this has to do with emotional involvement, getting to know the characters in such a way that they become real people.  It's an investment.  You become friends or enemies with certain characters and want to see them succeed or fail.  With a series, you spend more time with the characters than you would with a single book, which is why a TV show might run for a bazinga—I mean, a bazillion seasons, but a movie might get only one or two sequels.  You'll spend hours upon hours upon days with a TV show character, versus only a few hours with a movie character.

A universe can allow for similar expansion and investment in more characters.  The Chivalrous Welshman centers around Tommen's viewpoint, although Stopwatch did detour from this quite a bit.  But with the added series opening up more viewpoints, like Walter in Of Saints and Sinners, it allows for, not only the development of themes, but greater depth of character and plot.  Future series will address various viewpoints of the Dispersal, something only alluded to in TKC.  And it provides character perspective from different walks of life.  Rifun and Cassius come from very different cultures with very different practices, different worldviews which a Westerner would consider bizarre and even foolish.  But to them, it's life.  Micah and Micaiah had a very unusual childhood and certain events absolutely defined them.

A novel may skim the surface of the water on a jet ski, maybe go snorkeling a little and see some interesting things, but a series takes you beneath the waves, to see and touch and swim with the fishes.  Universes may take you to multiple locations to see new things, or see old things in a new way.

So this all brings us back to the question of why universes are becoming so popular.  While I do believe that Marvel brought it front and center, I think the real reason is simply escape.  We want to become invested in something, in other people, in other people's problems, but without actually getting involved physically.  We want to explore all these great places and read about these people, but we don't want to actually get physically sucked in.  We want to know what happens, but we don't necessarily want to help.  And anyway, the end has already been written.  Something is going to happen.  We just get to read about it.

Yes, it's a cynical perspective, but one look at social media or the evening news would tell you why.  People suck, and because it's real, we are involved in some way.  But a book, a whole new universe where we just read about the problems, know that everything turns out all right in the end, that's what we want.  Maybe we don't want a stereotypical John Wayne plot, maybe we like Game of Thrones where no one is safe and everything is usually up in the air to some degree, but whatever the case, it's not ours.  The universe doesn't exist, not really.  The people don't exist.  The problems are fictional.  So we get extensive character development, multiple prolonged plots, and plenty of emotional investment from a variety of perspectives.  And none of it is real.

On the other hand, what if it was?

-Brooke Shaffer

The last (or second to last, possibly) coup that we're going to cover, is the infamous Gunpowder Plot.  Not familiar with it?  Well, is this familiar to you?

Remember, remember, the 5th of November
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot;
I know of no reason why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot

The Gunpowder Plot can trace back to the mid sixteenth century, when King Henry VIII took control of the Church.  With the monarchy proclaiming itself the head of the Church, and the rise of the Protestant Church, English Catholics struggled to maintain their freedom.  Henry's successor, Elizabeth I, furthered the divide with her decree that anyone appointed to public or church office should swear fealty to the throne as head of the Church.

King James I was far more moderate, even tolerant, toward Catholics, and promised not to persecute any who would be quiet, mind their own business, and not cause trouble for the law.  He was also more in favor of exile than execution.  Nevertheless, King James was anxious about a Catholic assassination.

Regardless of his more moderate attitude, James did not completely eradicate Catholic persecution, and several assassination plots were uncovered before the Gunpowder Plot.  One of these was the Bye Plot.  It was crafted by Catholics, but also revealed by Catholics, and this was the only reason that James did not take a harder line with Catholics following the incident.

In 1604, James discovered that a rosary had been sent to his wife, Queen Anne.  Displeased, he ordered all Jesuits and Catholics out of the country.  On March 19, he gave a speech in which he reiterated his desire for peace, but only by profession of the true religion, that is, the Church of England.  The Catholics were to remain quiet and not increase in number within the country.  This set off another string of persecution against Catholics, sometimes violent.

The idea behind the Gunpowder Plot was to kill King James I and many of those on the Privy Council, in the House of Commons and the House of Lords, as well as various judges and other nobles.  The conspirators would also kidnap his daughter Elizabeth.  The fate of his sons, Henry and Charles, would have to be improvised.

The plotters were Robert Catesby, John and Christopher Wright, Robert and Thomas Wintour, Thomas Percy, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, Thomas Bates, John Grant, Ambrose Rookwood, Sir Everard Digby and Francis Tresham.  The first meeting, of only five of them, took place on May 20, 1604.  They thought they were going to finalize their plans and be ready by February 1605.

On June 9, Thomas Percy was appointed to a troop of bodyguards for the king.  He used this appointment to set up shop in London, with Guy Fawkes, under the pseudonym John Johnson, pretending to be his servant.  Parliament adjourned in July.

Through the fall, the conspirators rowed their stored gunpowder across the Thames from Catesby's residence in Lambeth.

On December 24, it was announced that Parliament would not be in session like normal over concerns of the plague.  It was reopened on October 3, 1605.

The delay between the opening of Parliament and the plot is mythologically attributed to the plotters digging a tunnel under the House of Commons.  No evidence has ever been found for such a tunnel, the prosecution for the later trial never presented any evidence for a tunnel, and conspirator confession to this tunnel came after only multiple torture sessions.

In June, Jesuit priest Oswald Tesimond told Father Henry Garnet that he had taken a confession from Catesby and thereby learned of the Gunpowder Plot.  They determined that the confession fell under the seal of the confessional, which meant it could not be repeated.

In July, Parliament was again delayed opening because of fears of plague, and the new date was set to be November 5.

36 barrels of gunpowder were brought into the undercroft beneath the House of Commons in July, but by August, it was discovered that it had decayed.  More barrels were brought over at the last minute.

Guy Fawkes was designated the one to light the fuses and escape across the Thames, while revolt in the streets would ensure the capture of James' daughter Elizabeth.

The problem came from the wives of the conspirators.  It is unclear that they were part of the conspiracy, but there is evidence to suggest that they had a good idea of what was going to happen.

Other concerns came up over other Catholics, and the conspirators came up with various measures to keep certain members out of Parliament the day of the explosion.  One of these was Lord Monteagle, who was also Francis Tresham's brother-in-law.  On October 26, Monteagle received an anonymous letter.

My Lord, out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I have a care of your preservation. Therefore I would advise you, as you tender your life, to devise some excuse to shift your attendance at this parliament; for God and man hath concurred to punish the wickedness of this time. And think not slightly of this advertisement, but retire yourself into your country where you may expect the event in safety. For though there be no appearance of any stir, yet I say they shall receive a terrible blow this Parliament; and yet they shall not see who hurts them. This counsel is not to be condemned because it may do you good and can do you no harm; for the danger is passed as soon as you have burnt the letter. And I hope God will give you the grace to make good use of it, to whose holy protection I commend you.

Monteagle did not discern the letter's meaning immediately and went to several advisors for interpretation.  Word got back to Catesby of possible betrayal.  Because of Monteagle's relation to Tresham, the conspirators confronted Tresham.  The man convinced them that he did not write the letter, but urged them to abandon the plot anyway.  They refused.

On November 1, the letter was shown to the king who immediately became convinced that it referenced fire or an explosion of some form.  The Privy Council declared that a search of Parliament would be conducted both above and below.

Two accounts of the search exist.  The king's version states that the first search was conducted on November 4.  They discovered Fawkes in the undercroft with the gunpowder, disguised as a massive pile of firewood.  Still acting as John Johnson, he stated that the firewood belonged to his master, Percy.  The search party reported their findings to the king.  Percy was already known as a potential Catholic agitator and, at his name, James ordered a more thorough search of the building.

The search party returned to the undercroft late that night.  Guy Fawkes was there in a cloak and hat.  He was discovered with a pocketwatch, several slow matches, and touchwood.  The barrels of gunpowder were also discovered.  He was arrested and taken to the king on November 5.  He maintained his identity as John Johnson.

As news of John Johnson's arrest spread through London, the other conspirators took the hint and scattered.  An arrest warrant was issued for Percy as well.

A letter addressed to Guy Fawkes was found on his person, but "John Johnson" maintained that it was simply one of his aliases and he acted alone.  His steadfastness impressed even the king who likened it to a Roman resolution.

Questioning of other servants and noblemen revealed Catesby, Rookwood, Keyes, Wynter, John and Christopher Wright, and Grant as co-conspirators.  Fawkes, still acting as Johnson, stubbornly insisted that he acted alone.  The king ordered him taken to the Tower of London and tortured.  The details are sketchy, but he was for sure subjected to the rack.  On November 7, Fawkes' resolve broke and he confessed everything.

Only two confessions were recorded in full, Fawkes' and Wintour's.

In his confession, Thomas Bates also implicated Father Tesimond in the conspiracy.  He stated that he had also visited Father Garnet on November 7 to tell both priests of the plot's failure.  Garnet, Tesimond, and another priest, Gerard, were implicated as wanted men.  Tesimond and Gerard managed to escape the country and lived out their days in freedom.  Garnet, however, was captured.

At the trial, Attorney General Edward Coke declared the plot invented by the Jesuits, citing Catesby's confession to Father Garnet and Oswald Tesimond.  Each of the condemned, said Coke, would be drawn backwards to his death, by a horse, his head near the ground. He was to be "put to death halfway between heaven and earth as unworthy of both". His genitals would be cut off and burnt before his eyes, and his bowels and heart then removed. Then he would be decapitated, and the dismembered parts of his body displayed so that they might become "prey for the fowls of the air".

Father Garnet was questioned on nearly two dozen occasions.  When threatened with torture, he merely responded, "threats are only for boys."  While speaking to another prisoner, he let slip that he had spoken to Tesimond who had told him of Catesby's confession.  He was charged with high treason and executed.

Digby, Wintour, Rookwood, and Keyes, along with three other prisoners, were all hanged, then cut down before they died.  While still conscious, they were castrated, disemboweled, and drawn and quartered.  Fawkes was to suffer the same fate, but instead jumped from the gallows and broke his neck, saving himself the agony of the remainder of the sentence.

So, kids, that's today's fun history lesson.  Yeah, it's May, but remember, remember, the fifth of November.

-Brooke Shaffer