making discoveries

Perhaps I should make a habit of posting regularly in an effort to motivate myself and track my progress. Every Sunday works well for me; a beautiful perk of having a fixed schedule.

Last week, the book containing Project: Destiny spent all week in the backpack I bring to and from work. In the train I managed to write another 1,000 words of chapter seven, and it feels close to being finished. More importantly, I made myself write no matter what was going around me, without worrying what anyone might think. It felt good.

Moving forward has given me ideas on how to change the outline, especially with regard to certain older elements that once were there that have since been removed. It’s interesting how the more I write this story, the more I find reasons to include things, the more things fall into place and make sense. I may not be travelling the same road as the explorers or adventurers in the story, and yet I am making discoveries it seems.

 

kickstarting this

I have not completed a chapter of Project: Destiny since August. I did some restructuring, some writing on Google Drive, and it’s not enough. All previous chapters posted here come from a physical book that I wrote them in first, then typed them up here with only the most minor revisions (generally, spelling errors resulting from thinking faster than I can write).

The bullshit ends here. That book is going into my backpack, which I bring to and from work everyday. While I am in the train, the metro, or on break at work; it will be near at hand and ready to be written in. I will make a stronger effort to write everyday. I have my chapter summaries online to reference, but everyone knows that these things are no more than waystones in the forest and that the true path through the undergrowth is often more twisted and meandering than one can anticipate.

 

Winter has arrived

The first snow came and covered everything in its silent whiteness. Then crunching underfoot, boots sliding on hidden ice and snowflakes on upturned faces.

At night, the snow reflects the city lights and the grey ceiling of cloud is luminous as it reflects the snow, a pair of misted mirrors.

I am filled with a listlessness and I hesitate to blame the snow, but I am not sure what else it could be. My time is spent doing nothing of merit, and because there is less of it than before I chastise myself for being wasteful when I could instead be writing or exercising or performing household duties. I did not previously concern myself with being productive every minutes, but it feels like most weekdays I come home and sleep. Nearly two months later, I still have not found my rhythm. I feel I am getting closer, though.

It is important to write how I feel.

Tomorrow begins a new week of trying to undo the damage caused by taking a desk job. I continue to be amazed at the tightness of shirts that flattered my figure not two months gone. I don’t look any different apart from that: no new stretchmarks, my body has mostly absorbed this change. I worry about a heart attack at 30 and having to buy new clothes (I bought three new pairs of jeans because the old ones no longer fit).

I want to be better.

I am getting a guitar for Christmas. I look forward to drawing on my lessons from high school, learning how much I remember. I should have asked for my grandfather’s guitar but it seemed so wrong to want it, like I was gaining something from his death. Objectively, it makes sense to want something ot his to remember him by; what better than the very same instrument he loaned me to learn with? It’s likely too late now.

Music may help me to be more open. I am too private with my emotions. I should not be afraid to share them with those I care about.

 

raw stuff, could be molded into something or expanded upon

Twisted girders mark the shape of where it stood, a cylindrical hollow where motes of dust shine in the bright sunlight in stark counterpoint to the destruction around. At its bottom, a jagged wreck of metal and stone, shadows lining the cracks and crevasses where once was a flat expanse of checkered marble. The angry angles and harsh lines suggest cacophony, but all is silent until a bird’s song floats down the column of disorder from far away.

A gloved finger brushes a thick layer of dust from a shard of ruined floor. This silence has lasted countless years, and the hand’s owner one of the first to breach it. It is thick and oppressive and stills her tongue when she would otherwise share observations with her companions; two others suited head to toe as she is, their boots making muffled thumps and sending eddies and swirls of dust in their wake. None of them say what they are all thinking: they do not belong here.

They pass out of the column and into a twisting maze of shattered corridors that once knew organization and purpose. Ran wants to remove her helmet, lift the thick plastic shielding her from this place, but fear and training prevent her from exposing herself to its unknown dangers. Now is no time to be irrational, she knows.

On and on through what they know was once a school from their briefings, but the cannot imagine the pieces fitting together. The desolation is too profound. How could something as sound and structured as a school have given way to this madness? Ringing bells and children’s footfalls did not fit within this labyrinth of fissures and exposed rebars. This place seemed more like to engender sounds of disaster, of trembling walls and crashing masonry.

Another step, two, three, and her vision blurs. It lurches suddenly as though she has wrenched her gaze to some far-off corner, but her eyes have not moved. She sees the schoolchildren and hears the bells with a painful clarity, her eyes stinging and burning, assaulted as if by unbearable brightness. Then the children are smoky silhouettes superimposed on the scene of bleak brokenness.

 

What is it about glass and bells and towers?

 

the reboot

Things are going very well so far. After I established the timeline, I rewrote the entire outline for the story, changing some bits around and finally deciding what I wanted to happen in the end. It feels more stable and complete now. Once the outline was finished, I launched right into rewriting: the prologue is finished and I’m well into chapter one.

I think what I will be posting here is second drafts. I want to get out as much rough draft as I can, then perhaps revisit them a week later and tweak things. Of course, I may change my mind and decide to do a mad rush to the finish to get the entire thing out in rough draft before any revision takes place. I’m not sure. But I’ve got 5,000 words in five days, so that feels good.

 

changes

I’ve changed the name of this blog and I mean to post here more often than to store my latest addition to Project: Destiny. However, on that subject, I’ve been doing a lot of background work lately, fleshing out things like government and history. For the first time ever, I have a solid timeline of the lineage of T’Heri’s kings and important historical events. Before, I had only a vague idea of the order in which certain catastrophes occurred and no kind of history of kings or heroic figures outside the community of shadeweavers. The common folk need heroes too.

I’ve also done some developing of the ancient past, which is largely considered pre-historical, but I believe some scant few records have survived the ravages of time such that scholars may conjecture as to what happened in the Long Long Ago. Even if I don’t spell it out, it’s important for me to know what happened. It’s difficult to project an air of mystery if the pieces that remain point in radically different directions.

In terms of kings, there have been several who have earned themselves special nicknames: the Lightning Kings, the Bloody King, the Mad King (because you always need a Mad King, right?), the New King, the Wise King. Though only a man may sit the throne, I don’t believe the kingdom is inherently patriarchal; their oldest religion is that of the Church of the Sun, which teaches that the female aspect, Destiny, is the source of goodness and light while the male aspect, Fate, is the master of deception and manipulation. Also, the natural world is personified by three female aspects because life comes from women.

One of my main motivations in creating the royal lineage and history was to have a calendar. There’s one reference in chapter two that will have to be changed, for example. It says that records indicated that the Eyrtan prospered for over 300 years, which is laughable.

But I can now say that the calendar of T’Heri is based on the years that have passed since the kingdom’s Founding, with the prologue of the story taking place in 403 AF and the first chapter nearly ten years later. It was important for me to know how long the Guild of Colours has existed, when they began teaching Artifice, and when exactly a couple of cataclysmic events took place.

See, I say I want to post non-Destiny material here and I go on and on about it. My apologies.

If anyone is interested in seeing some of this background material and has a Google Drive account, send word and I’ll share the relevant folder. Or, if you prefer to read the narrative and present me with questions that might indicate holes or that some part of the history or world seems unclear, that’s great too.

 

Outlines

I copied all of my outlines onto index cards so that there’s one per chapter. The ones apart from the rest of the block have all been posted here already. I like the physicality of them, and that I can write the date on each card as I finish the associated chapter. Also, I really have to vacuum my computer room, the floor is filthy.

 

Goal

I’m setting myself a goal: I aim to have chapter three posted before the end of the week. That is all.

 

Edit (6/17/12): Failed. Oops.

 

Project Destiny: Framework

I’ve begun writing up a chapter summary to fall back on, so that as I write new material I will have an idea of where I meant to go. I’m up to chapter 17 and I’ve not yet reached the end. Once I get that done, I expect I’ll pick up actually writing again. Then if I lose my way, my inspiration, what have you, I need only look to the next waysign. (I really have to stop giving a damn if people think what I say is lame.)

Edit (June 13): The outline is finished. Now the real work can begin.