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.
Thought you guys might enjoy this. It’s an excerpt of what I’m working on right now.
Light filtered through her closed eyelids, washing the darkness in a warm ruddy pink. She held still as long as she could. A lingering sleepy thought crept through her slowly waking mind, convincing her that if she gave the others no reason to notice, she’d be left alone.
She had not slept well. Read the rest of this entry
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
As a conscientious adult, I have to warn the reader that this story is a little more on the mature side. It involves certain concepts not suitable for people below 16.
To be fair, it involves concepts not suitable for ANYONE. THIS IS NOT ABOUT HOLMES, DO NOT COME INTO THIS STORY WITH THAT ASSUMPTION. YOU READ AT YOUR OWN RISK… Thank you, that is all.
Metal cuts skin. That’s a no-brainer, really. Shears are my favorite. They’re strong enough to replace a good knife, but still have that scissors action. Two blades, slicing against each other, creating a huge amount of pressure on such a tiny point separated dermal tissue, muscles, tendons, even smaller bones.
His skin fell away quick enough. It was cold, but not frozen solid. A few sounds escaped. They were reactionary and hurried. When I’d first started, all those years ago, they’d freaked me out a bit. I got used to them over time.
I really didn’t like doing this part. It made me feel strange. It gave me the creeps. I liked everything else, though. My friend got me into it.
At orientation, he introduced himself as Dr. Watson. It was kind of funny, kind of corny, but none-the-less endearing. He’d been a little pudgy back then. The mustache showed him to be a bit older than I was at the time. Within a few minutes I was able to deduce his age, weight, name and his hopeful future medical field. He dubbed me Sherlock. We kept those names, continuing them ourselves and then letting others further the legacy. 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