The first draft of “Eigengrau” is, well, not publishable. It’s definitely a story: the organs of narrative are all accounted for, sloshing around inside its carcass like viscera. I’ve re-read and edited the first half, refined it into something resembling a Jamie Hyneman style polished turd; the second half? Unpolished turd.
As for Artifact – still waiting on some testimonials from more of my heroes. I’ve also been contacting my favorite blogs and websites to see if any will agree to write some reviews the week of release. Why is this important? Sales-incentives for distributors, mainly. Credentialism. Booksellers are more likely to agree to stock your book if a number of respected sources give it the ol' thumbs-up. They’re not really for you’s guys. No, instead of blurbs and whatnot, I think what will convince the individual consumer to read what I got is how well the expression of my storytelling measures to his or her interests, and I plan to throw up some sample chapters of Artifact in a few weeks. You’ll know by then if what I’ve written is anything you’re interested in.
Re-reading this latest draft of “Eigengrau,” you know what the funniest part was? The climax makes absolutely no sense, since I haven’t gone back to reshape the relevance-diagram of catalysts, which is really just a process of rearranging a network of arrows, if you will, which point to the end. Foreshadowing needs to be inserted for later scenes, shit that isn’t needed has to be cut, etc…
“Eigengrau” didn’t take terribly long to whip up (I tried staying as close as I could to the Lester Dent approach this time, which is a fabulous method, you should try it).
I have to admit that this blog thing is hard as hell. It’s hard to weigh exactly what you all respond to – stuff about movies and such generates a lot of traffic, and that sort of thing does interest me, certainly, but I have this insatiable need to write about meaty things, like politics, religion and shit. I really want to write about Snowdan’s espionage and the NSA fiasco; I want to write a whole thesis about what’s unfolding in Brazil and Turkey at the moment. I really, really, really want to analyze the moral arc of Obama’s fall from grace, and how this latest NSA scandal will probably (ironically) secure a serious republican nod for 2016 (assuming they don’t go full-retard again – don’t put it past them) and please, for the love of all things holy, if you ARE a registered Republican, learn who Buddy Roemer is. I really like how aggressive Liz Warren is getting – it’s so goddam interesting. It seems like she’s trying everything she can to solidify herself as Queen of the Far Left. Half of me respects the hell out of her, the other half loathes utilitarianism. I’ll figure it all out eventually.
The need to write page after page about this stuff is very strong. But I won’t go there. It’s 4am here. 600mg of ibuprofen, 600mg of gabapentin, and I still can’t sleep unless I’m in a seated position with a neck-roll. I wish I could say that I wasn’t complaining – there are infinitely more people out there who have it worse – but I can’t. This is probably the shittiest place I’ve ever been physically, and it’s really getting to me. My wuss-dial may be turned up a bit higher than most, but I don’t know how much longer I can take this grating, endless, exhausting, grinding, stabbing pain. It’s damn-near crippling, especially in the morning. Writing helps, and has some therapy, with diminishing returns. I’ll have better stuff for you to read in a few days.
Until then, as always, peace, and LIVE SLOW.