Not Everything that Rhymes is Stupid (or at Least I Hope Not)
or, better yet
Other Poisonous Things that are Pumped into My System, Other than the Ones Depicted Above
Those poisonous things are, of course the ever-buoyant (a fancy way of saying never-sinking) doubts that I am doing everything I can to progress the story forward in the most naturally consumable way—and that means that I need to give the reader a break and stop escalating the tension for at least a few hours of the story’s timeline.
Even if that means restraining myself from killing or hurting people for a time.
Part II is finished (first draft of it, that is), bringing the tally of words to a staggering 473 thousand. Go me.
It was a difficult one, considering the fact that I had to deal with several characters, simultaneously climbing their individual arcs. Now, since I have dealt with it, I can move on to more fun stuff, like actually hunting—a dragon.
The above abbreviation stands for Enforced Levity Increased Speed Authoring—which should be my new writing method—named after Elisa, Hans Christian Andersen‘s character from The Wild Swans.
One well-documented downside of this method is a possibility that one of my eleven turned-swan brothers might still end up with a wing instead of an arm, no matter how swiftly I knit the magical nettle shirts.
A. K. A. Scenes.
Have to hurry up. My doctor finally caved in and gave me the deadline.
If chemo does not work, I have months. About three. If it does, I have… well… months, still, but waaay more. Maybe even a year. So…
E.L.I.S.A to the rescue. Or so I hope.
The whole band (Verra, Venny, Torvenn, Marque, Ngale, Dae) is only a couple of hours away from reassembling at Stormhold for the first stand-off, and, perhaps—a sighting? Can barely wait to tap-type my way there.
A. T. T. On an irrelevant note (or, perhaps, rather relevant one?), just Skyped with my father.
If I had some guilt about not talking to the man for decades, no more. In about five minutes in the conversation I asked permission to be polite. Given one, I hung up.
This is to be sent to all my new subscribers with computer-generated usernames:
Hello and welcome to The Tally of Words!
I am genuinely thrilled to have you aboard and along for my little journey.
Before we proceed—one humble request:
Please, log into your account and update your profile with your first and last name (whether real or made-up), thus ensuring that you are not a robot (if you are not). While I do appreciate the avid interest my work has recently evoked within the Artificial Intelligence community, and do not wish to discriminate my AI readers, knowing the human-to-robot ratio of my fans would aid me tremendously in finding a writing voice for my audience.
Unexpected treat: Ilya (A.K.A. iG.STUDiO), who is also my webmaster, just informed me that he managed to restore files he thought he had lost due to the hardships of switching to a new phone, resulting in the loss of data in his pocket composition tool (GarageBand for iPhone).
DISCLAIMER (I quote):
…these are NOT original compositions (I’m still working on the main theme, but it’s shaping up). These are merely mood sketches, created with heavy use of GB’s built-in “smart” instrument patterns in different combinations, designed to mock-up the “epic cinematic” score style. Don’t even get used to the chord sequences. They will definitely change, as the theme is developing to be quite different from these…
Here are little score sketches:
A romantic backdrop:
A little more energetic, but still playful—for Book One chiefly (loop):
A full-throttle heroic build-up for the score of the main conflict (loop):
Resolution, reminiscence, and out for the rolling credits >:-), assuming there are any (in the book trailer there might me some):
…so don’t judge the quality of the melody (there isn’t one). However, if you’re ever in need of Zurbahnian music, you know where to find me…
Pure fun. :-) And I am certainly going to take him up on his last offer…
After listening to the archives of the Writing Excuses blog for two days in a row, I am now almost convinced that I need to modify the beginning of the book. As of now, it starts (and always had been starting) with a lengthy encyclopedic pseudo-quote:
The Great White Desert, Heart Of Lands, or, simply, the Flats, is a vast territory of thinnest silt dust, baked by the Sun into an immense ceramic plane, that spreads for thousands of miles in the very center of the Circle of Known Lands*.
In my case, the notorious writer’s block manifests itself as a difficulty in coming up with the start and end of another scene. The line in and line out are very important for my process, and often they just come to me naturally. And, sometimes they do not. And, once in a while, I have a hard time figuring out logical continuations to events which just happened in my story, because the longer and more complex the story grows, the more things seem to happen by themselves—at least I feel like I have less and less control over them.