Writing Peripherals

I often wonder if it’d have been easier to write a book back in the “good ol’ days” where there’d have been much less free time but ostensibly much fewer distractions. When you’re in a room with pen and paper, I’d assume it’d be harder to procrastinate than when sitting at the computer. Even without the internet at your fingertips, there’s a plethora of programs to draw the attention of the truly devoted procrastinators.

Then again, there’s all sorts of trouble you can get into with just a pen, paper, and some good ideas, though what some may consider procrastination, others see as a necessary and integral part of the writing process. When I began the first book of my Padeia trilogy, TENTUK, for example, I was building a world with not only a unique social structure but a brand-spankin’ new religion. About midway through the story, I wrote that world’s creation myth. Considering that I was taking a class on Greek mythology, it’s not surprising that the tone and language is similar to some of those translated texts, but the myth itself is a blend of Greek, Egyptian, and Christian. (At least, it’s intended to be.)

Now, was the writing of the creation myth absolutely necessary to the story? Yes and no. Aspects of it came through in the writing. The government structure, for example, was underscored by the belief that it had been ordained as such by the gods themselves. This is mentioned once in an off-handed way by the title character, more to show his character and coming conflict than as a necessary world-building tool. I could have done without actually writing their myth in that instance.

I used the second half of that myth, specifically the creation of women, more extensively in the manuscript, and I’ve since mentioned it here and there in the second and third stories to help thread the stories together. Again, did I need to write the entire myth for this purpose? Probably not.

Do I still see the act of writing the myth as necessary for the books? Absolutely. Because in writing the myth, I better understood the mythos of my characters. I had a better understanding of the undercurrent within their society against which they needed to fight. While I doubt it’ll ever get published (if any part of the trilogy ever gets published that is), creating back stories, character charts, and plot graphs in some form or another are all part of the gig.

Not a Place to Stop for the Night

So, last night I was reading Madhouse by Rob Thurman. First I gotta say that I love, love, lovethis series. So much so that it’s taken me this long to read the book because, once sucked in, it’s near impossible to pull back out, which means I have to find long stretches of time in which to sit and read. Of course, once the Cal craving hits, it doesn’t much matter that it’s the beginning of the week and I don’t really have the time to spare, I’m picking up the book. Though I did manage to talk myself out of re-reading the series. Hurray for the modicum of self-control.

But while I read the last two books in one sitting each, I managed to set Madhouseaside for the night. Not because I wanted to read on, but because a damn stormfront that had me fighting fatigue and aching eyes. I knew I wouldn’t last past a few chapters but–silly me–I chose the wrong place to stop.

Well, the right one in that I knew from Thurman’s previous works that this section marked the beginning of an action-packed sequence that would capture me pretty much for good, but definitely bad in that I chose to stop at the beginning of a chapter where Cal and his brother Niko come across bloody bones hanging from the ceiling of an empty warehouse. Yep, I stopped there while lying in bed on a dark and stormy night right before I went to sleep.

Sometimes I’m not too bright.

I spent the rest of the night periodically waking up from various nightmares, all hazy recollections in the cool quiet of the bedroom, the light from the streetlamps outside filtering through the curtains. Cal Leandro’s world ain’t a pretty one, and Rob Thurman sucks you into it as surely as Charybdis. Yet despite the horror and the tension, she manages to thread humor through it, some dark, some bawdy, some even light-hearted, all carried by characters both flawed and beautifully three-dimensional. While not a series I’d recommend to those with weak stomachs, definitely one I’d be willing to give up a few hours sleep.