That Editing Itch

With a chapter edited today, some cleaning under my belt, I thought, “I think I’ll read or play video games, then go to bed.”

“No!” said my book. “Love me!”

“But I did already. We spent an hour and a half together. I got through a full chapter.”

“Full chapter? There’s twenty seven of me. Get it in gear!”

How do you say no? Just better shut up in an hour. I need to be up early.

A Children’s Book: The Rise of Phulthgemogn

Paul Davis:

So yesterday I said I’d never write a children’s book. I think it’s important to back claims up with evidence. Here you go. Anyone interested in illustrating it, let me know? I think it’d make a great donation piece for some children’s literacy program.

Originally posted on Lands of Volden:

Children gather round as you hear an eldritch sound, it is the name of Phulthgemogn. [Insert picture of a man who is the color of moss, with tendrils protruding from his squid-like head]

Phulthgemogn was a hungry Old One, starved too long in frozen depths, until a ship broke up ice, and up its haul he crept. [Another picture of Phulthgemogn, prowling up the keel. His tendrils may or may not be embracing a sailor’s head as he struggles fruitlessly.]

The ship, the Sanguine Auspice, soon was vacant of all but Phulthgemogn, his appetite only whetted. But in their maps, New York seemed a feast for an Old One. [Show the “Sanguine Auspice.” Adults will get a chuckle. Sanguine can mean profitable or bloody. Kids will learn about irony. This book could be for four year olds, I’ve no doubt. Oh, and bloody sailor corpses picked clean, with Phulthgemogn gnawing…

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I cannot write children’s books

We all know the “When I retire I’ll become a writer,” sort. The “It can’t be that hard” type. But then there’s the realist. They want to get into writing, but it’s harrowing, like sailing upon the black seas of some Lovecraft poem. I can’t remember the name, I wouldn’t spell it right if I had, and none of us would have been able to pronounce it anyway, so I’m leaving it ambiguous.

They look at writing and say, “I should wade in. Let’s start with children’s books!” Oh, abscond from your foolish notions, mortal!

I see the quote a lot, some of them from pretty famous authors. They can weave a tale in a fantasy world, create a beautiful and stunning landscape, but they wanted to start out “easy,” with children’s books.

I’ve thought about them. Part of me thought, “It wouldn’t be hard.” Most of me thought, “Then my nephew could read my books!” He was around one and a half at the time, and otherwise he likely won’t be reading them until he’s sixteen.

The issue is I can’t write appropriately for kids. I can’t do the word choice, which is so scientific and meticulously chosen for the different age ranges in order to both be comprehensible, yet challenge their neophyte vocabulary. There are themes, ideas, plans, and a number of other concepts incorporated into children books which I just could not fathom. So I forfeit, and understood my nephew would be have to be in high school before reading the works of dear Uncle Paul.

Until then, when given the chance, I regale him with stories of him as a Pokemon trainer with his treecko and other misadventures with his dinosaur, Rupert. He wanted to name treecko Rupert, but I informed him giving all his friends the same name was simply improper.

To those of you who write children books, I admire your abilities, your comprehension, and your empathy. Without those, one could not connect to the little ones.

One Third

Who is a third done with edits?! This bastard! Ugh. It’s felt good editing so much in the past few days and getting down a routine. It’s interrupted now and then (I’m just getting to editing, but figured I’d warm up through a little blogging while my tea steeped), but overall it’s going well. Next on my list is to actually follow my proportions and to get to the gym four times a week.

In other great news, Volden hasn’t just taken on a more stable, well founded direction, but we may have recruited new talent. From the influence of the work, I’m amped, because there’s a lot to work with. I debated creating a world on the same mythology, but had not. I know he does good work, so I’m ecstatic to see the trip he takes us on.

Anyway, back to my novel. Dana’s working on a short story. We’re all excited. I’m a little light headed from dehydration. Poor life choices. Time to edit!

Hope your writing is going well and your dreams are coming true!

This is not my skin

It’s kind of fitting. When I got out of the car, the last song on the radio was “This is not where I belong.” It’s not. It’s so apparent so often.

I feel restless. I want to crawl out of my skin. Maybe it’s the feeling of freshly cut hair prickling at my body. The feeling of fat as I haven’t been eating right or working out. It could be a crushing burden at work, as I simply feel overwhelmed. Is it my disappointment as to where my writing is, when two years ago, fresh from heart shattering, I made so many strides towards that very career choice.

Ever become really aware of your body? You realize your fingers can’t stop rubbing over each other. You feel every stretch in your tendons. Right now I’m apparently sitting just right to stretch out my gluts in some weird fashion where it feels like I’m just sitting on bone. I think I’m starting to kink some nerves. Direly need to lose weight and stretch.

It’s not that I’m not making moves. I’ve edited like a mad man. I’ve started setting up some future plans. I’ve planned. The whole Volden concept has a direction. But driving in the car all day, I have not been able to find my music. I cannot find the songs I’m looking for. It’s been maybe a half dozen songs on repeat, and that’s all that’s keeping this vessel together.

Maybe it’s the exploration of Lovecraft, as I work towards my autumn story, realizing it will be horror. When I read him before, I’d fall asleep with his book in my hands. Tentacle laced dreams greeted me, waking me up with terror and cold sweat. At least I’m back to brainstorming. It’s been too long since I’ve really done it from scratch.

It all makes sense eventually. I suppose I have a friend willing to unlock my potential with his demonic and alien abilities. The path isn’t that blurred for me to walk in that direction though. I say this with humor. I’m not having aliens and demons unlock my “potential.” Yum, acid.

Anyway, off to edit. The arts seem the only drug which cures this addict’s itch, so I might as well imbibe it plentifully.

Write Fanfiction

Paul Davis:

My feeling on Fan Fiction.

Originally posted on Lands of Volden:

50 Shades of Grey was fanfic. No matter what you think of the quality, it made a lot of money. There are entire websites dedicated to fan fictions. Don Quixote died because Cervantes loathed all the fan fictions popping up, and his response was, “If you won’t let him be, I’ll kill him!” There is a lot of contraversy, love, turmoil, and joy all surrounding fan fictions. Women finally get to see Dean and Sam make love. Jar Jar Binks is impaled within three minutes of showing up. Countless other things happen, most of which cannot happen without an NC17 rating.

I started in fan fiction. When I was in second grade, I wrote a page long story of me chilling with the Big Friendly Giant. I found it about two years ago and promptly tossed it after reading it. I gleaned what I could, which was I couldn’t spell.

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Novelettes: now you’re just making up words

Paul Davis:

Stuff and stuff from the creative side of life. Enjoy. More on Friday.

Originally posted on Lands of Volden:

Abir isn’t happening today. Why not? Because I’m busy and I lost sight of the story. What does that mean? You ask a lot of questions, that’s what it means. It also means that I just don’t know where it’s going. I know end game, I just don’t know how he gets there. Sorry guys.

On top of that, in the future short stories and serials by Dana and myself will be serialized or made in to novelettes, published, and sold. We’re going to charge you for it. Sorry. We like eating, Dana enjoys feeding her children more often than not, and I want to buy a house and create secret passages which eventually lead to a secret book reading garden with a sakura in the center. Likely fake, but we’ll see what’s possible.

“But Paul,” I hear you asking, “What is a sakura?” It’s a tree. That is so…

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