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A week's time after this challenge ends, school begins. The textbooks are ordered, the uniform needs to be dusted off, and I should probably start putting my immunization record together again. (They jabbed me twice - twice - for that TB test in March for work. No reason to do it again in August, thank you!)


I currently have two. The first one is a pseudo-parody of fantasy which is little more than a few pages and an audible chuckle every time I think of some new avenue to take the idea. It's difficult to describe the process, since I'm not doing much writing, but the story is still definitely alive and kicking. It grows in my mind - sort of like taking a ridiculous thing and finding new improvements on that ridiculousness - into further ridiculosity. The second one is my mystery-fantastical (which is the name I invented for it, ergo it sounds way cooler than it really is...)

Incidentally, this picture is already in the sidebar on the right. Yay redundancy!

(That's not the real title. Or maybe it is, and nobody told me. It's a moderate joke that threatens to stick; let's put it that way.)

The story is told from the perspective of an aspiring young writer who works in the office of an investigative agent. It features a few detectives, a notorious outlaw, a missing lady, the elusive scent of an impending murder, and the lingering, sinister figure of a corrupt sociomoral-somethingorother. And it's not really about any of those. Yeah, some writers know what their story will mean beforehand. And then there's the riff-raff - those of us who totter along behind our characters, pretending to be writers and pleading feebly behind our hands to our characters when we hope no one's looking: "What are you doing with this thing again?"

...well, I suppose I could tell you oodles more if I wished; the trouble is, one feels a certain awkwardness about these things. It's sort of like the whole literature textbook thing: at a certain point, you have to stop reading books about books and just read the books themselves. And if you never get to read my book in particular, it will hardly help you to hear me yodel on about it endlessly. If you truly (or falsely; the sincerity of your feelings mean little enough in this instance) care to know more about various aspects of this story, you can find hints and gleanings and outright tellings here, here, here, and here. I know, I'm probably not playing by the rules - but there are no rules, and anyway - well,  I daresay, in a year or two, you'll have got over it tol'rably.

1 Comment

1. Rhoswen Faerie Wrose on August 10, 2011 at 2:14 PM

   So many books by so many of you that I want to read...The Brew is one of them. ;-)