Games

I'm about to head off to the beach for a much needed day to decompress, but I thought I'd scribble something down here before I ran out the door.

Making up a game from scratch is tough. Anytime you need to come up with something thats dictated by a set of finite rules, where there is an invariable chance to screw things up so that when read carefully the actions don't make sense.... trouble arrises. I bring this up because building a board game, a very important one at that, is something I found myself doing earlier this week. I just got through a scene where two of our big characters had something very important to them on the line, and the only way to win was to take a gamble - play a game of Pandora's box. To tell you the truth, when I thought of this I had zero idea what the devil this game was going to be like, but, it seemed a natural and necessary evil. I'm still not sure if I managed to get all the kinks worked out or not, but it is definitely a chapter I'll have to revisit in some length in the future.

And I'm off.

Check in

Have no fear, I'm still here! For all intensive purposes at least. Over the past few months I've found myself peculiarly stagnant in the creative department, and not just in the written form. O well, it's time to move forward. Every now and again I find myself scribbling down random tidbits relating to our story, and hopefully in a week or two those crumbs of information will coalesce into something a bit more filling. So now that I've plastered that claim on the world wide web, I MUST follow through!

Till next time.

The Domino effect

It's funny how much can be hinged on the most indiscriminate of details. I've been stuck on some tiny, miniscule, insignificant point for so long that once I climbed over it's metaphorical carapace, the floodgates of inspiration sprung forth like an avalanche. And then five minutes later they slammed in my face. Hard. Adamantium hard. So here I sit, sombre and flustered, trying to scale another miniscule detail. It's hilarious really, beautiful irony, and it seems to be the crux of the writing process. This domino effect, this metered success syndrome, permeates the very idea of inspiration. It's here, its there, you catch it on the breeze or you catch it on a whim, but it's never at your beck and call. Everyone knows that though, so it's not really much of an epiphany. It's like a jail brake - the doors swing wide for just a few seconds, long enough for you to gain some ground, but without fail, every time, that guard catches you and chucks you back in the slammer. Could be worse - at least this way there's time to sit and think.

Reincarnation

My goodness, can this be true? Is this really another post after weeks and weeks of literary drought? It indeed is! And my what a loaded post it will be. Not loaded as in long and drawn out, not long and listless like a fat full snake, but more concept heavy than anything. As I wasted my life away repetitively pressing the stumble button in the top left hand corner of my internet window, I ended up in a tripping on a curious story about life, death, the human population, and the universe being an egg. Yes. An egg. Regardless of the peculiar metaphor, it was a compelling read. The short story focused on the idea that all of mankind is the same person, just reincarnated over and over again, thrust into different times, different situations, all for the sake of eventually maturing into a god. This all got me thinking - how do I feel about reincarnation? I vow to stay as far away from the whole spinning of the wheel that Robert Jordan uses throughout his brilliant epic, but I wonder how I could tackle the idea of reincarnating dead gods in a human society.

I understand that the phrase "dead gods" is a bit of a paradox, keeping their immortality and such in mind, but I must say that if the gods were to war, somebody's going to die. Furthermore, it would be completely irrational to believe that such a powerful existence could simply VANISH - depreciate, yes, but not vanish. While I'm playing this pinball game of ideas, I can't help but bring Zeus and the pantheon into the conversation. When Zeus and his siblings took over from their parents, the titans, were they not able to bring them down? Were they not able to slay the greater Gods? Once again, slay may not exactly be the most appropriate word, but its what we've got to work with at this point. Slay, kill, execute...death in general.. the words all deal with the idea of mortality and the thought that when the grim reaper comes, its all over. Gods don't just die. But when they're..taken out so to speak..where do their spirits go?

A bunch of malarkey

Things have been a bit odd around here lately - I wouldn't say that I've got writers block, but I can tell you all that the story has come to a crossroads. Zuriel and Tarlin are preparing for a journey, an important one at that, but for the life of me I can't figure out how to get them started. My mind has thus decided that the journey is irrelevant and that it should instead focus on Loki. If I was any other writer, this would be a normal situation (apparently quite a few authors write bits and pieces here and there and then fill in the blanks), but for me its a quasi apocalypse. I'm a big fan of following the timeline and I begin to feel a bit unsettled whenever I have to venture of the beaten path - It's like I've gone time traveling and my return to the present is up in the air. A vast cornucopia of movies have illustrated the sticky situations that this time traveling business can bring and I must say, it's quite intimidating! Hopefully, I won't have to reverse engineer a stainless steel car to run on train tracks to make it back to the present... but I digress. To me, this skipping around in the story is a bunch of malarkey, but it would seem that, at present, malarkey is what I've got to work with.

Maasai

Nine times out of ten, a fantasy novel depicts a world full of civilized people that are constantly under the threats of the war hardened, desert-tested "savages". You could say that writers are predisposed to placing these people into their work, creating some sort of extra tinder to fuel the flames of dissent, war and strife throughout their world - I can't say I blame them. These groups add mystique, create a greater feeling of the unknown and help further the validity of said universe. Furthermore, these "savages" always turn out to be far more civilized, advanced, and wise than they've been given credit for.

The Maasai warriors have always piqued my interest, from their religious beliefs to the patriarchal structure of their society. Fierce warriors, diligent cattle herders, and ceremonially strict individuals, the Maasai would be right at home in the world of Hierarchy. These brave people will serve as a model, a base mold, for the culture that I'm striving to create.

Happy new year!

Well folks, it seems as though blogging while home for the holidays was a near impossible endeavor. As you all can see... I didn't get much done. But, seeing as though I've been re-introduced to my self inflicted exile, words will soon flow from my finger tips like insults from Jeramy Clarkson's oversized British maw.

As I mentioned last post, a certain Loki Blodweud has been begging to be introduced. A peculiar fellow, and quite a mischievous one at that, his name hales from both Celtic and Norse mythology. I'm sure many of you are aware that the name Loki belongs to the Norse God of trickery, a fellow who switches his allegiances on a regular basis and can't decide which lot to throw his cards in with. As I said, quite a peculiar fellow. Blodweud isn't much better - the name hails from the Celtic/Welsh myth about a woman, made of magic and flowers, who has an affair while her husband is away and tricks her lover into murdering him. There's a bit more to the story but, in short, she's a representation of deceit.

A rabid gambler, an intelligent yet careless individual, an honor-less and morally broke thief, Loki Blodweud is about as predictable as the wind and as trustworthy as a drunken dog. Indispensable, irresponsible, and completely irrational, Loki will long stand by Zuriel, more than happy to supply ample reason for headaches and certain hypertension.