Sabbatical Part: 4… come on and dance

18 10 2010

Last night I started writing a scene where these two junked out thirty-somethings were in a room together and the girl was just dead and the guy was supposed to follow, but he couldn’t because he was (in his estimation a “truly cowardly person”). He goes into the bathroom and does a half-ass overdose attempt with their stash of heroin, then he begins to reminisce about when he met the girl (his wife we now discover) at grad school. At Berkley. I figured the story of two ultra-bright grad students getting from aspiring scientists to marries suicide pact had a lot of potential. I mean, really, it does. But right at this moment I just don’t want to tell that story. Sometimes you should really just entertain the nice people.

I need to write a space-opera. I need to write about the “Rocket Ships and Ray Guns” that so many of the golden age guys tried to put to bed. I mean honestly, I can’t remember the last time my fiction wasn’t one endless existential crisis with maybe a cosmic abomination thrown in for good measure. I just want to dance! I mean I got down to business and studied and wrote a flash piece two days ago and do you know what it was about? The end of the world and how the cruelty of a sibling prepared the protag to not sweat it too much.  No wonder nobody wants to print me these days: I’M NO FUN!

I should be fair. I’ve had a lot of second reads at the pro level this past year, seven I think. That’s not bad. I had ZERO second reads in ’09. But still, I just haven’t written much that involved Action or Adventure in awhile. I blame Lovecraft. I was ass deep in Dragonlance novels (like twenty-two of them!!!!) when I was thirteen and into fourteen and then this college kid I knew gave me a copy Lovecraft shorts and Howard’s “Kindred Mythos and other Horrors.” I lived in a hollar in rural Kentucky. Do you know the kind of shit that happens in hollars? I went from “escape” to… well I’m just not that fun.

I’m going to make a stab at this. The last space-opera type story I wrote turned into just more crisis of being rambling (though it went two full rounds at Andromeda Spaceways which I was happy about).  I will do better. Pure surprise and adventure with fun pseudo-archetypes such as:

1: The dark, insular and deadly lady-warrior

2. The scientist that betrays his friends for thirty pieces of silver

3. The child that can understand the 100,000 year old alien runes, thus saving the whole crew

All these and more will be included in my next opera!                     …. or perhaps it will just be a story about a guy that thinks he can predict the future by sitting and aimlessly watching traffic….         hey, that ain’t half bad!

Sorry buddy, me and my writing are taking a different track for awhile...

 

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