First off, I’d like to apologize for not posting much in the last month. I’ve been busy trying to get my group moving a little more than usual.
I’ve also been diving head-first into MYTH, developing the other characters further. I’ve figured out that either I’m going to write the next lord of the rings, or I’m never going to write the fucking thing. One of the two… I’m personally pulling for the first choice.
Secondly, and related to the first, I want to introduce you to a new poster I’ve created for the first book of MYTH:
Before you ask… yes, I did make it. Yes, it was from scratch (except the background which was a stock HDRI panorama image I set as an illuminated environment). And yes, I am ridiculously excited about it!
The content depicts the gear used by Andial, the leader of the Golden Guard and chaperone to the young Priestess, Claire. He’s a regal born Aelphi given the conflicting honor and punishment of leading the most heralded group of abominations in existence.
You’d want to hide your face behind a scary golden mask too, huh?
Well, that’s not why he has the mask…
I’ll leave it at that.
(p.s. this is actually a direct scene taken from the book…)
WHICH YOU CAN’T SEE!
HA! That’s funny.
I set up a blog for the studio which we can use to update each other on our projects, setup meetings, keep information secure, etc, etc. It’s set to super-private and associated with a different username. This kind of a tool is incredibly useful. With it, a group of people can set up checkpoints throughout their schedules where they review others’ work. If you’re working with a group, this kind of thing is indispensable.
Here’s my personal philosophy…
Measure twice, cut once.
This does work for writing. Not everyone breezes through their first draft with little regard for pacing, sentence structure, paragraph breaks, readability, grammar, punctuation, etc. It’s the same for consistency in story-telling. For sci-fi and fantasy works, the mantra has to be refined.
Create a system of measurement, measure twice, create a cutting tool, then cut once.
The concept is done, the worlds are fleshed out, the peoples and places have been described. Maps have been drawn for continuity’s sake. My system of measurement has been set in stone and the eyeballing gave way to absolute relativism long ago.
I am at the point of creating a cutting tool and this is the fun part.
Developing characters’ method of action is giddily enough like playing god. Their voice, their personalities are the best part of everything.
I’ve gotten it in my head to do a character interview for Myth:OMAM which I will post here as soon as it is finished.
Which will be edited as soon as I can use more than my phone…
Oh, what’s that?
With what did I make the image?
I’ll give you a hint… it sorta rhymes with bone.
Alright, stop giggling at the word ‘bone’.
This is for myth, per my usual concept desgin train of thought.
Since I can’t edit the image caption on my phone, it is © Aaron Shively, 2011.
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Aaron would like me to tell you that, to fully comprehend this story, you must read all the ones that came before. Doing so is not necessary to enjoy it, but there are a bunch of Easter Eggs and this is the conclusion to the ‘Reapers’ miniseries… and it directly ties in with another, previous unrelated story…. So, basically… He’s fucking with you.
The knob turns easily enough but, as your mind was trying to tell you, music doesn’t work in this place. Not only is there a lack of radio waves, a lack of towers outputting beats to the masses, it’s worse; records, tapes, cds, nothing plays. You miss the rhythms and harmonies.
Besides the silence, there’s an undeniably calming effect to sitting in the front seat. You’d forgotten exactly how much of a difference there is. You had convinced yourself a while ago that sitting in the back, hiding from the red and the horror of this realm was the best for you. But now, with the breeze on your face and a little more connection with the new driver, you feel in control. As much as you can, at least. Read the rest of this entry
He seems to be getting more and more messed up in the head as the challenge concludes. Frankly, I’m frightened to be a part of his imagination.
“No, Darling, you can barely tell you’ve gained any weight at all.”
Against his eyes’ better judgment, Ron assured Anna that she was as beautiful as always. He wasn’t the best at complimenting anyone. He’d nearly been fired from his best job after he insisted his Boss’s hairplugs looked more natural than the missing strands had in their youth. Of course, when the idea hit him to run his own business, he left anyway.
Anna had been gorgeous. Their relationship was so physical it would exhaust him. She didn’t feel truly loved unless it was beneath the sheets. That was before the incident. Since then there hadn’t been much playing around in the bedroom or any of their other favorite carnal spots. He hadn’t seen her naked since she brought home the news.
“You’re lying. I’m a cow. I’m a pig in a dress. Worse, I’m sweating. Pigs don’t sweat. I’m a goddamn sweating cow-pig in a stupid Kmart sundress going to see my goddamn queen of a fucking mother-fucking mother.” Read the rest of this entry
… Ok, what the holy hell? Seriously? METAPHOR?! NO ONE GETS METAPHOR ANYMORE!
Speaking without words had become more than second nature.
What do you mean, experiments?
The creature in the containment tube twitched. God brought it to a large table and laid it down lengthways so the tops of the cylinder were visible. Through the flat discs, I saw it move. It tried to breathe but sputtered on the clear inspissation. The gel, meant to hold it in safety, was choking the thing. God’s thoughts touched some activator and the glass-structure fell away.
The organism wasn’t overtly strange. It was built in practically the same way as my previous people, two legs, two arms, one head. The skin was unique. It was the color of the sands below the plateau cities. Two eyes perched above a vertical and protruding nose with only two nostrils. It was stuck between sleep and the waking world, unaware of us but fully capable of speech. Mumbles in an alien language erupted arbitrarily. Read the rest of this entry
OHHHH, I get it… sort of… wait, what?
I couldn’t speak, not like I once had. However long it was, however long I had been in the company of the creature which was most definitely not a god but could only be described as our Lord, it had been long enough for my lips to fuse in a strange evolutionary adaption. My jaw cemented to the sockets below my cheek bones. I had chosen to focus almost solely on the symbols introduced to me by the Chancellors. It was my choice, my preference to speak with the markings, transcending sounds, exporting communication through the air and showing my meaning via images pushed to the other’s mind. That conscious path sent me into this change. I worried about hunger and the need for air. I sent the question to the Lord but it was dismissed as ridiculous. I was told there were other ways to get nutrients. I wasn’t exactly excited to discover them.
When I felt this, the stiffening of my mandible, I quickly realized the cause. Before my audience with this Lord came to happen, I would never have conceptualized it. The connection between cause and effect would have been wanting. I only knew the correlation because of what I had been taught when I didn’t know I was learning. Whatever I did, whatever pattern I followed, my body would alter to facilitate it. I began to move in exaggerations of normal actions. I exercised every aspect of myself. Physical and mental prowess grew. I grew. I was never questioned by God on why. He knew. Read the rest of this entry