Bits and pieces.
Thursday, 11. September 2008, 21:34:17
No new content yet. Possibly more Mac & Irina in the future; right now, I'm trying to finish one last drawing and get things squared away for Foolscap. Plus I've been tinkering (re-writing) THE NOVEL again, as if I didn't have anything better to do.
Hell, it isn't published yet (if ever), so WTF not? So what if it amounts to so much adolescent refusal to move forward? In the meantime, re cast, re mold, re shape. Same song, different melody. A Wes Anderson sort of book. I'm sure I could fit Bill Murray and Angelica Huston in there somewhere.
I don't think I even read any more. I has become illiterate. I look at those fat-ass fantasy novels and think: good god, I don't have time for that. Wait for the movie. My huge fat-ass fantasy novel made into a movie would feature an all-star cast full of pretty British actors (maybe one or two Irish ones for good measure), Jeremy Irons in a butt-load of make up and Peter Jackson as director. Hm. Maybe it's time for another round of "who would you cast as..."? But I wouldn't allow any CGI; all animation would be stop motion and conducted entirely by a troupe of modern dancers dressed in black jumpsuits. Scratch that: black CATS in jumpsuits, and all of them speaking in LOL speak.
I'm also thinking: it's not a single novel. It's not a trilogy. Quit trying to cram everything into one or three volumes. Make it punchy, interesting, and above all, well written--and why couldn't I write a series? (OH THAT'S EASY, WHY NOT JUST WHIP OUT FIFTEEN IN A ROW?) Well, no one's asked me to write one yet and the world will go on (MAYBE) if I don't write at all, but--why not? Zelazny did it--but Zelazny *could* do it. I probably most likely can't. (Just keeping it on the ground, for the moment.)
I don't want it to be formulaic, although as a fantasy, by nature it becomes formulaic. In my defense, at least there are no cloaks. The elves have become monstrous creatures. My hero is as likely to be carrying a pistol as he is a sword (and I know swords are terribly recherche these days, but I just can't give them up). The heroine is spirited, of course--but she's also rash and through a series poor choices matures over the course of events, whether she wants to or not. It's not a science fiction novel; I'm not going to be spending much time explaining how the airships function or why they still ride horses (duh, I like horses). There will be sorcery, I'm sure, but it won't be the central device. And it won't work properly all the time, and it will have consequences (Oh my. When was the last time the use of sorcery DIDN'T have consequences?).
And that's enough blithering. I'm off to work again, if by work I mean writing, and if by writing I mean sounding out a hollow shell that's been filled many times before.
Hell, it isn't published yet (if ever), so WTF not? So what if it amounts to so much adolescent refusal to move forward? In the meantime, re cast, re mold, re shape. Same song, different melody. A Wes Anderson sort of book. I'm sure I could fit Bill Murray and Angelica Huston in there somewhere.
I don't think I even read any more. I has become illiterate. I look at those fat-ass fantasy novels and think: good god, I don't have time for that. Wait for the movie. My huge fat-ass fantasy novel made into a movie would feature an all-star cast full of pretty British actors (maybe one or two Irish ones for good measure), Jeremy Irons in a butt-load of make up and Peter Jackson as director. Hm. Maybe it's time for another round of "who would you cast as..."? But I wouldn't allow any CGI; all animation would be stop motion and conducted entirely by a troupe of modern dancers dressed in black jumpsuits. Scratch that: black CATS in jumpsuits, and all of them speaking in LOL speak.
I'm also thinking: it's not a single novel. It's not a trilogy. Quit trying to cram everything into one or three volumes. Make it punchy, interesting, and above all, well written--and why couldn't I write a series? (OH THAT'S EASY, WHY NOT JUST WHIP OUT FIFTEEN IN A ROW?) Well, no one's asked me to write one yet and the world will go on (MAYBE) if I don't write at all, but--why not? Zelazny did it--but Zelazny *could* do it. I probably most likely can't. (Just keeping it on the ground, for the moment.)
I don't want it to be formulaic, although as a fantasy, by nature it becomes formulaic. In my defense, at least there are no cloaks. The elves have become monstrous creatures. My hero is as likely to be carrying a pistol as he is a sword (and I know swords are terribly recherche these days, but I just can't give them up). The heroine is spirited, of course--but she's also rash and through a series poor choices matures over the course of events, whether she wants to or not. It's not a science fiction novel; I'm not going to be spending much time explaining how the airships function or why they still ride horses (duh, I like horses). There will be sorcery, I'm sure, but it won't be the central device. And it won't work properly all the time, and it will have consequences (Oh my. When was the last time the use of sorcery DIDN'T have consequences?).
And that's enough blithering. I'm off to work again, if by work I mean writing, and if by writing I mean sounding out a hollow shell that's been filled many times before.
WIDGETIZE