the ramble dump
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Less Than Ten Percent
So I kind of failed the NaNoWriMo challenge this year, achieving a grand 4,664 words out of the required 50,000. Here's how my progress went:
It makes me laugh.
It's not that bad, though. At various points before November began, I'd decided that I just wasn't going to bother at all. And it's more than I usually manage.
The premiss for the story, Marto the God, was based on an idea I've had knocking around for ages about doing something from a god's point of view. Somewhere along the line I decided to place him in a contemporary setting, and soon the idea became one of a young, arrogant god who was very aware of his godly nature but still discovering his powers. It developed beyond that in various cool ways, but I won't go into that here.
For all the horrific largeness of the target word count, writing Marto was a lot like writing the old boardfics. I'd start off with very little idea about where I was going with it, much like all my other stories, but the time limit meant that I had to be much more off-the-cuff with it. I don't get to plot as elaborately as I do with the serials, and having to burn through ideas at a superfast rate just to keep it going is both exhilirating and infuriating. It was two weeks for SciBoard Resurrection, and I managed about the same for Marto before it flatlines where the uni essays hit.
Frankly, it wouldn't have stretched to 50,000 words anyway. But I'm not finished with it just yet. I like where it's going, I know vaguely what happens next, and I know how it ends. Thematically, it overlaps with a few of my other projects, and is in many ways extremely typical of everything else I do, but I think it's tangential enough to be interesting in its own right. I haven't decided what I'm going to do with it once it's finished.
Either way, it's been a fun experience. I recently read out the first chapter to a group of people I hardly know and the response was positive, which is a good sign. For an idea that I always thought would never have enough to it to do anything with, so far it's turning out pretty well. We'll just have to wait and see for the rest.
It makes me laugh.
It's not that bad, though. At various points before November began, I'd decided that I just wasn't going to bother at all. And it's more than I usually manage.
Marto was a god.
He checked himself in the mirror. Tight black t-shirt and black leather pants with armoured knees; fingerless leather gloves and black combat boots with half a dozen straps and buckles each. Motorcycle goggles pulled back his hair, a greening brown, in a flattened sheath of porcupine-like spines. Marto grinned.
'Not bad,' he said. 'Not bad at all.'
The premiss for the story, Marto the God, was based on an idea I've had knocking around for ages about doing something from a god's point of view. Somewhere along the line I decided to place him in a contemporary setting, and soon the idea became one of a young, arrogant god who was very aware of his godly nature but still discovering his powers. It developed beyond that in various cool ways, but I won't go into that here.
Rotating his attention back to the door, Marto glanced at the doormen each in turn, grasped the handle and stepped smartly across the threshold. He strolled along through a corridor and took a second door to the left, which gave way to a dingy little living room.
'There is no spoon,' said a voice. Marto looked around and spotted a young boy sat motionless in one shadowy corner. He looked like a bald Buddhist monk in miniature, nestled in draping orange robes.
Marto viewed him with lofty condescension and replied, 'I am the spoon,' before walking through to the kitchen.
For all the horrific largeness of the target word count, writing Marto was a lot like writing the old boardfics. I'd start off with very little idea about where I was going with it, much like all my other stories, but the time limit meant that I had to be much more off-the-cuff with it. I don't get to plot as elaborately as I do with the serials, and having to burn through ideas at a superfast rate just to keep it going is both exhilirating and infuriating. It was two weeks for SciBoard Resurrection, and I managed about the same for Marto before it flatlines where the uni essays hit.
Marto took a biscuit.
'Biscuits are the way,' said Mrs Wise, as if reciting a mantra.
But Marto did not eat the biscuit. He clutched it stubbornly as Mrs Wise took the tin away and went to sit back down. Why, he thought, should he be forced to do such trivial things? Why should he have to eat a biscuit that he did not want? He was made for more than biscuits.
Frankly, it wouldn't have stretched to 50,000 words anyway. But I'm not finished with it just yet. I like where it's going, I know vaguely what happens next, and I know how it ends. Thematically, it overlaps with a few of my other projects, and is in many ways extremely typical of everything else I do, but I think it's tangential enough to be interesting in its own right. I haven't decided what I'm going to do with it once it's finished.
Either way, it's been a fun experience. I recently read out the first chapter to a group of people I hardly know and the response was positive, which is a good sign. For an idea that I always thought would never have enough to it to do anything with, so far it's turning out pretty well. We'll just have to wait and see for the rest.
Labels: boardfic, marto the god, nanowrimo
