Category Archives: Writing

Forging ahead, regardless of the facts

“When you write a story, you have a predetermined end in mind, and the challenge is to make the facts match the ending. This is what I call “the fictific method.” The challenge of the fictific method is to make all the facts along the way to lead to a believable result based on those facts. Unfortunately, more and more we are seeing storytellers whose goal is to reach a certain result regardless of the facts.” — Brian K. Lowe.

Lowe cites two ways this happens: 1)The writer ignores the facts they’ve’ established so that they can make the ending come out the way they want it to. 2)The storyteller establishes false facts: changes history, ignores the way things normally work, or has people behave in ways nobody normally would.

Raymond Chandler’s classic essay The Simple Art of Murder really hammers the classic British mysteries of his day over #2. Cops who don’t follow any of the established rules or use the tools at their disposal to crack the case. Or consider the murder scheme in Dorothy Sayers’ Have His Carcase: it’s an absurdly elaborate plot it’s unlikely any killer would use. But it has to be used to set up a seemingly impossible crime, a man murdered on a beach at low tide with nobody leaving footprints in the sand.

Or consider Avengers #38 (cover by Gil Kane). The Asgardian Enchantress places a love spell on Hercules to get him to attack the Avengers for her. At the end, the good guys snap Herc out of the spell, but the Enchantress still has the magical power to annihilate them. Instead, when Hercules tells her to get lost, she just walks out because … she’s in love with him and can’t bear to kill him along with the others. This comes out of nowhere; she’s shown absolutely no interest in Hercules up to that point, unlike Thor, whom she was constantly hot for. But it was the simplest way to end the story, given her Asgardian magic way outclasses the team.

Or take a scene I wrote into Southern Discomfort. After some nasty magic starts paralyzing people, I had the Pharisee County Hospital treating it as if there were a strange outbreak of stroke cases. My friend doctor and author Heather J. Frederick pointed out that strokes don’t work the way the magic did, so that wouldn’t be the diagnosis. I went back and reworked it and settled on the doctors deciding it was some kind of fast-spreading disease — which was scarier because 1973 wasn’t as prepared for epidemics as we are now.

Which is the key to making the fictific method work. If you can’t get the ending you want, given the facts of your story, either change the facts or change the ending so everything flows logically. Hopefully once it’s finally published, everyone will agree that I did.

#SFWApro. All rights to cover remain with current holder.

Leave a comment

Filed under Comics, Reading, Southern Discomfort, Story Problems, Writing

Putting the pieces together

Like (I imagine) a lot of writers, I’m tossing around ideas in my head even when I’m not writing. Maybe more when I’m not writing, as I’m not required to focus on anything.

A lot of it is less plots or characters than just bits of things. Opening lines. Names. Ideas. Scenes unattached to a story (particularly climaxes. I love imagining dramatic climactic confrontations). I sometimes think they’ll just float around in limbo unattached because I’m very linear in my writing: I can’t start with a scene and then write the story that leads up to it. My mind just doesn’t work that way. Lately, though, I’ve noticed I’ve been able to use several them.

Death is Like a Box of Chocolates incorporates bits of several ideas floating around in my head. A story about a small-town reporter. A female lead with the first name Pershing. The idea of a thief stealing something off a baggage carousel that turns out to be supernatural — I’ve had that floating around in my head since before security cameras were everywhere, one reason I wound up setting the story in the 1980s.

Impossible Takes a Little Longer will, if it ends up the way I anticipate, use up a scene I’ve had floating in my head for a couple of decades, which I won’t spoil here. I didn’t start from that scene and work back, it just suddenly struck me how well it would work in the book.

I’ve done this occasionally with earlier stories. Not In Our Stars But In Ourselves, one of the stories in Atoms for Peace, used a name I’d had in my head, “Elegy” Walker, though very differently from my original concept. Maria, my protagonist from Southern Discomfort, drew on an earlier character in earlier drafts, an Italian-American living in a small Southern town. The difference is so marked, I may go back and reuse that earlier version somewhere else some day (ditto a supporting character, Megan O’Donnell, who got dropped entirely).

It feels really good when I get to use up one of these ideas. Really, really good, like an itch that’s been lying there, waiting for the scratching. I’ve got maybe two more climaxes I’d really, really like to put to use — let’s hope the trend continues and I can do it before too long.

#SFWApro. Cover art by Zakaria Nada, all rights remain with current holders.

Leave a comment

Filed under Atoms for Peace, Impossible Takes a Little Longer, Short Stories, Southern Discomfort, Writing

This week’s challenges: Sickness, snow and scheduling

The scheduling issue came up Sunday. I’ve been putting in three hours of writing on Sunday for a couple of months now as I get so wiped out at the end of the Monday-Friday work days. Three hours Sunday, I can stop earlier and give myself a little break before walking and feeding the dogs. But as my lunch breaks have been quite short this month — with Trixie’s leg, they aren’t getting long walks — so I figured I could skip Sunday, get my work done in the afternoons and still finish up before dinner walkies.

And I mostly did, but there much less of a break at the day’s end than I’d expected. Either Plush dog got a longer walk than usual or there was some other distraction I was dealing with on lunch hour. For example, Wisp demanding petting. Plus, I suspect the sickness that has me in its grip today was already dragging me down.Wisp, has by the way, been a constant companion on our short walks. I wish I could capture just snuggling with the dogs but Plushie sniffing her but is as close as I’ve managed so far.

Sickness has been a bigger problem. TYG caught a bug last week, probably by the usual transmission process of kids to parents, parents to coworkers, which means her. At first it didn’t seem like there’d be much of a problem, but the past couple of days I’ve had the inflammation and irritation in my throat I repeatedly get. I’m doing my best to stay relaxed not talk and talk all appropriate meds as I have some presentations to make at the end of next week (details will follow). I’d really, really like to be able to make them and losing my voice would make that impractical.

And of course, feeling sick does not do my writing any good. Today I just wiped out in the late morning, so I did this blog post and I’m calling it a day. Unless I revive in the afternoon; I’m not betting on it.

And then snow, of all things, descended on us (and the rest of Durham) yesterday. Given temperatures we thought it wouldn’t stick, but it has. Fortunately it looks like the roads are clear so we should be A-OK if we need to drive anywhere. And TYG picked up food Thursday morning, so that’s taken care of. As long as we take care walking the dogs, we should be fine.

Now as to work … I did my Leafs for the week, though in my depleted state they took much longer than they should have. I also drafted Impossible Takes a Little Longer up to Chapter 23, which was my goal for the month; I won’t have much time for fiction next week so that’s a win. I also worked on a first draft and got a big leap forward this morning when the bad guy finally emerged from my unconscious. I might have finished the draft today but … no. I might squeeze it in next week

I also tidied and footnoted the first section of Chapter Seven of Undead Sexist Cliches. It’s on sexual harassment so there’s no shortage of examples.

Wish me luck for a better next week. I have a lot I want to be in good health for.

#SFWApro. Photos are mine.

Leave a comment

Filed under Impossible Takes a Little Longer, Nonfiction, Personal, Short Stories, The Dog Ate My Homework, Time management and goals, Undead Sexist Cliches: The Book

The magic of writing

“Carole King called an extraordinary number of extraordinary things into being. She sat there one fine day in a world in which absolutely no one was doing the Loco-Motion —  a world in which, in fact, no one ever had done the Loco-Motion. And she declared “Everybody’s doing a brand-new dance now” and even though it wasn’t true or real when she first said it, her saying made it so. If that ain’t magic, it’s something close to it.” — Fred Clark.

That’s a pretty cool thought, and quite true. Writing changes the way we speak: nobody was called Romeo before Shakespeare, Scrooge before Dickens, Svengali before George du Maurier (in his novel Trilby). There were no robots except as a Czech word meaning worker, before Carel Kapek’s play RUR. Private detectives were not Sherlocks before Sherlock Holmes and money lenders were not Shylocks before Merchant of Venice gave us that anti-Semitic figure.

At this point, I doubt I’ll ever contribute anything quite so powerful to the written word or get anyone dancing a brand new dance (I did have someone approvingly quote a line of one of my stories once without realizing I was the author, which was cool). But I’m a line of work where it’s possible, and that’s pretty awesome.

#SFWApro.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Writing

Juggling, insomnia and a wendigo! Okay, I was kidding about the wendigo

Another rather disorderly but quite productive week. So that’s a win, I think. And my post title gives me an excuse to post one of Herb Trimpe’s Hulk covers, which is another win (Trimpe and Sal Buscema are very much “my” Hulk artists).

The disorder started around midnight Saturday when Trixie woke up, needing to go to the bathroom. I took her out, but an hour later she needed to go again. After that I just settled with her onto the couch downstairs. She was fine with that, but her constant quivering from her tummy upsets made it impossible to sleep. While I’m used to insomnia I’d had some bad nights earlier in the week and this one was just a bridge too far. I was so wiped out Saturday that everything I’d planned to do got either postponed to Sunday (planning some stuff, cleaning) or dropped (going to the movies). I wound up taking a nap that was close to three hours, which is way long for me.

On the plus side, Trixie’s tummy settled down and she went back to normal. However her bad leg definitely felt worse after doing all that extra squatting and relieving herself. But she’s been improving steadily, I think; as I said this morning, I hope she’ll escape needing surgery. Even if not, better a happy, contented puppy in recovery than a miserable sad, diarrhea-ridden puppy.

Now, the juggling; I’ve been practicing juggling for years, based on a couple of how-to books. I’ve known for a while I was never going to get any better without help, so I took a one hour class Monday at Triangle Circus Arts.My teacher was very helpful. She pointed out the mistakes in the way I was doing things and showed me some basic steps I wasn’t taking. It was a huge quantum leap in my understanding of what I was doing, and a modest leap in my performance. But even when I wasn’t doing it right, at least I could spot what I was doing wrong. I’ll keep practicing at home, then next month I’ll go back again.

But the thing is, I normally practice five minutes at a time. Juggling for a solid hour really exhausted my arms and left me wiped out for the rest of the day. Coupled with Trixie’s appointment slicing the morning in two, I got nothing done. However my insomnia was still running so I wound up making up the time at the cost of sleep. Not exactly a win, but …

And as for the writing?

I finished chapter four of Undead Sexist Cliches. I’ve gone light on a couple of sections, such as whether or not a pay gap between women and men exists (yes) and is partly due to sexism (yes), and told everyone to read some of the posts in footnotes if they want to get into serious number crunching. Still it’s in much better order, with all footnotes added.

I got one more chapter of Impossible Takes a Little Longer. After the trip to Stardian City I’m not quite sure where it goes to get to the big superhero/supervillain confrontation (not the climax but a big turning point) but my gut’s lead me well so far; hopefully that will continue.

I redrafted and slightly shortened Death is Like a Box of Chocolates based on last week’s critique from the writers’ group. It’s improved, but I think the ending may still need work. I’ll give it another look next week, then off to another beta reader. If she thinks it works, I’ll have it finished next month.

I worked some on finishing this month’s first draft (as yet untitled), but I didn’t get very far. And other than knowing it’s a riff on Sleeping Beauty, I have no idea what kleptomaniac Mary “Stealer” Holt has to deal with. But it’s a first draft, I can always change the answer later. I hope to finish it this month, but I won’t bet on it.

That’s a satisfactory amount of work. Next week, hopefully, I can accomplish work and sleep.

#SFWApro. Rights to cover image remain with current holder.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Comics, Impossible Takes a Little Longer, Nonfiction, Personal, Short Stories, Story Problems, The Dog Ate My Homework, Time management and goals, Undead Sexist Cliches: The Book

Strong female leads, once more

Director/writer/actor Brit Marling wrote a recent NYT op-ed declaring how fed up she is with strong female characters. (hat tip to The Mary Sue). Specifically that as an female actor, her choices were protagonist’s lover, protagonist’s parent or female butt-kicker. While that widened the options some, it didn’t widen them much, and the strong female template was extremely limited: “I became aware of the narrow specificity of the characters’ strengths — physical prowess, linear ambition, focused rationality. Masculine modalities of power … a man but in the body of a woman I still want to see naked.” And that by emphasizing masculine traits, they make it difficult “for us to imagine femininity itself — empathy, vulnerability, listening — as strong.”

I agree with Marling that it’s good to have a wide range of female protagonists. And that empathy and compassion should be acknowledged as strengths. But arguing that they are essentially feminine, or implying that a real female character has to have them, and that rationality, ambition and physical prowess are “masculine” — there we part company.

Certainly rationality is often coded as masculine, empathy and vulnerability as feminine. But I know women who are physicists, IT geeks, chemists, doctors, nurses and accountants all of which call for a lot of rationality. Showing women onscreen with “focused rationality” doesn’t read to me as “male in a woman’s body” it means getting away from stereotype and portraying what some women are like. Ditto for physical prowess and ambition; I’ve known women with those traits too. Marling feels that when she was ambitious as an investment banker and cared little for who got hurt by her financial movies, she “buried my feminine intelligence alive in order to survive.”

Female characters being just men with boobs is a criticism I’ve heard back since the 1970s (it may go back further). It’s one you can find on both the right and the left. There are right-wingers who believe female action heroes just aren’t realistic; I’ve read feminist critiques to the same effect (no real woman would ever choose violence to resolve a problem!). The logic frequently comes across just as much mired in stereotype as the kind of writing of women Marling critiques. I know women who practice a variety of martial arts, and women have been boxing since the 1700s, but these examples often don’t sway anyone. I’ve seen arguments lthat women who watch strippers/are ambitious in business/like physical combat are, as Marling says, burying their real femininity and adopting male standards. If they could find their true authentic selves, they wouldn’t do any of that stuff. Which effectively eliminates all counter-examples: they’re women trying to be men instead of women QED.

And the empathic woman can become a stereotype or a plot device: the nurturer who puts the hero back together, the one who shows compassion and mercy when the man wants to be ruthless. Though it’s clear that’s not the kind of role Marling wants to see more of.

I don’t really have a brilliant conclusion to take from all this. All we can do is write the characters, get female beta-readers (assuming “we” in this context is non-female), improve based on feedback and keep trying to do better.

#SFWApro. All rights to cover image remain with current holder.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Undead sexist cliches, Writing

Well my output is good, but the results?

I really, really would like to sell something besides Leaf articles. I’m happy to sell those because they make me a decent income, but would it be too much to sell some fiction too?

This week I got a form letter turn-down for one reprint story, and a rejection for a regional con (I may go in person. We’ll see). Late last week, I was told another submission came within a “handwaving asymptote” of acceptance, or it wasn’t accepted because it was a handwaving asymptote. I wasn’t really clear, but a friend with better mathematical understanding thinks they meant A. Oh, and the artist who’s working on a cover design for me is way behind on responding. I know her and she’s got a lot on her plate, but it would be nice to hear back.

Sometimes, like Blue Beetle it seems there’s no escape, no chance — but then I get back up and resubmit something again.

Like the title says, output this week was good. A little disorganized due to Leaf having switched the way it posts articles; I still got in enough to pay my share of the bills, but not always at the times I’d blocked out for them. I kept working on something though, so I didn’t waste time.

I also lost time because of sleep. Got back in late after going out with the writer’s group Tuesday; couldn’t sleep Wednesday for stress (I wound up with some Leaf articles I was having serious trouble finishing — though I succeeded Thursday); and last night, Trixie woke me out of a solid sleep because she needed to go to the bathroom. As her bad leg precluded her usual body language — running to the door and waiting — I decided she was just being needy, petted her for a bit, then got up and did some work. I should have trusted my gut and taken her out, then TYG wouldn’t have had to deal with poop on the floor when she got up.

Oh, and Plush Dog spent much of today as a lap dog, choosing the most awkward positions for my writing — that is, I end up with my legs spread, tilted slightly over on one side, propping my lap desk up on the arm of the couch. Makes focus hard.

Now, as to the actual output. I got two more chapters on Impossible Takes a Little Longer done, set in the Stardian City I talked about in a previous post. This sequence turned out really well; however I’m looking back at the early chapters, which I changed relatively little, and thinking I need to change a couple of them a lot. The villain’s opening attacks on my superhero, Champion, are just not working in the context of the whole book, though I’m not sure what should replace them.

I put in some work on an as yet untitled short still in first-draft stage. It involves a 1938 socialite and compulsive thief stumbling into a portal fantasy. I’ve never figured out what’s on the other side of the portal for her to deal with, but I’ve got a better handle on her character now and that’s going to help. I hope.

I read the revised Death Is Like a Box of Chocolates to the writers’ group and got some good feedback. Mostly that a lot of background detail could be cut and should be. And that the ending needs more oomph, which I agree with — nobody could pinpoint what, but perhaps I’ll think of something. I hadn’t thought it needed that much tightening, but they’re good judges so I’ll keep that in mind when I review it next week.

And I got a start on redrafting and footnoting Chapter Four of Undead Sexist Cliches. I restructured the chapter and I think it’s in good shape. Hopefully I won’t change my mind as I go through it again.

Oh, and I submitted a story which has not come back yet! In fact all my non-reprint stories are out, so who knows?

#SFWApro. Cover by Chris Wozniak, all rights remain with current holder.

Leave a comment

Filed under Impossible Takes a Little Longer, Nonfiction, Personal, Short Stories, Story Problems, The Dog Ate My Homework, Time management and goals, Undead Sexist Cliches: The Book

Getting by by being “meh”

For much of the 20th century, and maybe still today, it was perfectly possible to be mediocre and have a career in the arts. Mediocre actors, mediocre writers, mediocre artists, they’ve all been able to make a living.

If there’s a magazine or a newspaper someone has to fill it with articles. A comic book has to come out every month (or quarter or bimonthly, whatever), TV stations have to fill their broadcasting time, mystery or SF series have to deliver a new installment to fans and so on. Ideally they fill it with quality stuff, but that’s hard; even Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone couldn’t do it every time. So they try to do good work and occasionally fail or they just settle for “meh” and don’t worry about it.

Which is how I feel about DC’s Tales of the Unexpected, having just finished a TPB of its first twenty issues. Under the editorship of Julius Schwartz, DC’s Strange Adventures and Mysteries in Space read like the creators are trying to tell fun, entertaining stories, and frequently succeed. Unexpected editor Jack Schiff was a much less effective editor and everyone seems content to just churn out stuff to fill space, as they did on Schiff’s My Greatest Adventure. Jack Kirby contributes some stories, but they’re not as lively as the monster stories he worked on at Marvel during the same time.

The magazine in the 1950s was an odd mix. We had SF stories, supernatural horror stories and fake supernatural horror stories. In The Face Behind the Mask, the woman’s mask hides that she’s eternally youthful … except this is actually a scam to con an elderly man into paying a fortune for the youth treatment. Other stories involved crooks haunted by supernatural threats, except they turned out to be fakes designed to trick them into confessions.A whole string of stories involved crooks acquiring supernatural/SF powers only to get their comeuppance: either they break the terms of the magic, or they screw up the deal in some other way. In one of the better stories, for example, a crook kills a scientist and steals his duplicator machine, they creates a duplicate of himself to go to the chair for the murder. He learns too late that whatever happened to the duplicate happens to the original … Most of them weren’t that clever. Lots of other stories culminate in a twist or reveal that falls flat. The reveal of The House Where Dreams Come True is a rare exception — it looks sinister but it turns out to be a rather sweet tale.Despite the bland, unimaginative scripts, Unexpected kept running all the way through the Silver Age, though getting more heavily SF as it went along (for a while DC’s uninspired Space Ranger was the resident hero). After that, like House of Mystery and House of Secrets, it converted to a supernatural horror format —

— and kept going on into the early 1980s.

My point (I do have one) is that you don’t have to produce great work or even good work to stay afloat as a writer or artist; as one old saying goes, editors want someone who meets deadlines, is easy to work with and does good work, but they’ll settle for two out of three. But as comics writer Steven Grant once put it, readers don’t care that you’re easy to work with and meet deadlines. They care about what they’re reading, not how it was created. Of course if it hits the right buttons or fills some empty times, something that’s formulaic and “meh” may meet their needs perfectly — but is that what we want to aspire to? Isn’t it better to give readers our best, not just whatever mediocrity we can get away with? Admittedly circumstances may force us to compromise — the budget’s low, we need a quick sale, we’re approaching deadline — but if we have the chance to shoot at the moon and miss, as they say, at least we’re out among the stars.

#SFWApro. Covers by Leonard Starr, Jack Kirby Ruben Moreira, John Prentice and Neal Adams, all rights to images remain with current holder.

Leave a comment

Filed under Comics, Reading, Writing

Crawling from the wreckage

Well that’s unusual. Normally if the week goes poorly, it starts well, then tanks. This time it started as a mess, then picked up.

Due to worry and vet appointments for Trixie’s injury, Sunday and Monday crawled. I got some Leaf done, but that was it, and it took forever to focus.

After that, though, things started to resolve and I began to get into the swing of things. It was still awkward trying to fit Trixie and Plushie and me on the couch, inside the cage, but we made it work, though not very comfortably. Yeah, maybe “swing of things” isn’t the best phrasing. So along with a full slate of Leaf I made some minor changes to Death Is Like a Box of Chocolates for my reading at writer’s group next week. And I completed another two chapters of Impossible Takes a Little Longer, as KC enters Stardian City (which I blogged about yesterday).

And I finally got my revised proposal for Space Invaders off to McFarland. It all seemed to come together in my head Thursday, while Plushie was at Suite Paws. With Trixie at home I didn’t get my usual full day all to myself, but not having Plushie sitting in my lap and squishing me into awkward positions was apparently a brain boost (I could try moving him off, but he’s just so cute). As I couldn’t go out cycling with Trixie to watch over, I probably wound up spending more time writing than usual. My brain was quite fried by the end of the day.

As I made the most of my no-Leaf weeks the first half of the month, I ended up doing well meeting my goals. Only about 60 percent, but almost all of my writing goals, and a lot of the important personal ones. So I’m pleased.

The goals included contributing a one-day quiz to the Learned League online trivia game I play in. I’ve been working on it for a while, but I finally reviewed the feedback, fixed some problems and submitted the final draft of the questions on Monday (it went live yesterday). The topic was “The Other Oz Films” which I think I’m well-qualified to write. My description on the website:

The 1939 MGM Wizard of Oz wasn’t declared a classic until after years of TV airings. Over time, though, it eclipsed L. Frank Baum’s Wizard of Oz novel and its sequels, not to mention casting a long shadow over every other Oz movie ever made. There are lots of other Oz films in that shadow. Oz characters are so iconic, they stay recognizable even when they’re plugged into horror films, SF, educational videos or soft-care porn. That flexibility, and Baum being out of copyright, makes them irresistible. The questions that follow cover 12 Oz films from the silent era onward. Head over the rainbow and test your knowledge of the Oz films that don’t star Judy Garland.

And now the weekend. There’s a bunch of little errands and tasks I need to deal with but I intend to get maximum relaxation in too. I think I could use it.

#SFWApro. Dog photos are mine. All rights to cover image remain with current holders.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Impossible Takes a Little Longer, Nonfiction, Personal, Short Stories, Story Problems, The Dog Ate My Homework, Time management and goals

The setting novel and me

I think of myself as writing primarily plot-centered stories, or sometimes character centered. But I’m wondering if both my last novel and my next haven’t turned into setting stories like Crazy Rich Asians and Airport.

Certainly Southern Discomfort isn’t primarily a setting story. It’s the battle of Olwen McAlister, Joan Slattery and Maria Esposito, among other characters, against Gwalchmai, the elven murderer. But Pharisee Ga. and its people are very much one of the characters. What does the death of Aubric McAlister mean to them? How are they coping with the disasters his death has unleashed? What happens if Olwen dies too? In various scenes we learn about the churches, the business set-up and Pharisee’s complicated race relations. None of this affects the plot, but I think it would be a much worse book if I didn’t include all that.

The downside is that this kind of thing can easily bog down a book instead of enriching it. My previous draft did just that. The scenes that built up the town involved way too many POV characters (one per scene, but taken over the course of the novel …) and rarely had any tension. This go-round I worked on each scene so that the characters wanted something or were worried about something. And I cut into the POV characters by making Father Michael and his brother, the mayor, the key viewpoint characters in most scenes. It still might be too sprawling and lacking in tension for potential readers (certainly it didn’t grab the agents I submitted to). But I’ve rolled my dice, so hopefully it’ll find a home somewhere.

Then we have Impossible Takes a Little Longer. This has always been partly about the weird world that results when millions of people have some sort of paranormal ability — psychically healing engines, exorcising ghosts, flying, shrugging off bullets or seeing through walls. And that includes changes to history, politics and geopolitics. Silicon Valley seceded in the early 1980s. The former British colony of Rhodesia is the psionic state of New Zimbabwe. Zohak, a monstrous figure of evil in the Shah Nameh has taken over Iran and forced the rest of the Middle East to ally against him. None of this plays a major part in the plot, though the lack of a computer revolution (“Cyberia” keeps the good tech for itself) does affect daily life (no cell phones, no social media). It’s mostly told in little references and my protagonist’s narration here and there.

Overall, though, it’s been very plot-centric: someone’s targeted KC — AKA the Champion, masked guardian of Northwest Florida — and she has to find out who before everyone she cares about is dead. Now, it seems to be changing. There’s lots more about the culture and factions of the Impossibles, the really powerful paranormals. About the changes Mayor Darla Jeffries has made to New York City. Then came the chapter I worked on Tuesday.

(Dinosaurs, conquistadors and Romans hanging out? Yes, that could easily happen in Impossible).

I’d already established the existence of the extraterrestrial Stardians (think of them as a second-string 1980s cartoon/toy line) next to Dallas, replacing a kind of alt.Comanche empire I had in the previous version (as discussed here). And that KC got a lot of help climbing out of the train wreck of her teenage years thanks to the insight of the Stardian mystic Darkbreaker. So I planned to have her talk with Darkbreaker about what’s going on, but the novel’s bad guy interrupts and takes him down.

Only now the Stardian city is getting much more elaborate and colorful and taking up a lot more space. To reach it, KC’s walking across a mile-deep chasm on a bridge that appears to be crystal and ceramic. I honestly have no idea what it’s like on the other side, but perhaps I need to explore it.

As it’s a first-person narrative I don’t have to worry about too many POV characters. However this draft could easily end up being too talky or showing too much worldbuilding. Which a lot of people like, but I usually don’t, so I’d rather not go that route.

But for the moment, I guess I’ll follow where my instinct leads.

#SFWApro. Art by Howard V. Brown, all rights to image remain with current holder.

 

3 Comments

Filed under Impossible Takes a Little Longer, Southern Discomfort, Writing