Here we have a very strange situation: I really have nothing to say. No, really. Not much at all.
Well, I realized that having “not much at all” is a lot different than, “Nothing to say”, so I must have something to say, yes?
I was chatting with The Muse a little last night, right before she sort of vanished into the aether, which sort of left me with little to do. Of course, I can hear The Muse, and her voice is always the same: ”Get to writing, Ray.” That’s what she’s always saying. Sometimes I think she only loves me for my words . . .
The last week I’ve been working on a final polish of Her Demonic Majesty, which I should have gotten around to doing a while back, but I had a lot more going on. Since I’m currently “between projects,” as one might say, I’ve thrown myself into this novel.
I thought I caught most everything the first time through, but this time, I’m not only reading the story, but I’m much better with my editing that I was a few months ago. And while the story is good, I’m finding so many little . . . things that needed fixing.
Because The Muse wasn’t around; because I was missing her something bad; and because I wanted to really get this story cleaned up, I launched into it.
And by the time the night was over, I had a good 6,500, or so, words edited and, in some instances, rewritten.
I finished Part One, which ends with one of my favorite scenes I’ve ever written, which is an attack on “The Castle”, a large structure on the south side of Chicago. The Castle is protected by magical defensive wards–yes, there is magic in the book–but there is something else: gargoyles. Twenty eight of them, to be precise. And they are mean bastards; each bigger than a Shire draught horse, and weighing in at around a ton. I’ll admit, I stole them from the school that Annie and I created, and this is just one more link between that world and this.
Anyway, the person launching the attack is a super sized douche rocket, and she had no problem walked a lot of faceless people into the sharp ends of sticks–which is exactly what she does. And there is a lot of–well, I won’t call it bloodshed, but in the end the mob attacking The Castle is destroyed, but so are my lovely gargoyles, going down like punks, not far from the corner of Halsted Street.
The thing I like about the last two chapters of Part One is that you see the attack from two different points of view. Chapter 6 is seen from outside The Castle, where the battle happens, and Chapter 7 is seen from inside The Castle, where you see a couple of the main characters going through the motions of monitoring the attack, realizing they are on the losing side of the battle, and the preparations they take to get the hell out of town. There is one thing that happens in Chapter 7, where The Castle goes into “Doomsday Mode”, which I remember coming up with as I was writing the chapter. I look at what I wrote back in November, and I sometimes wonder, “How did I write something like that on the fly?”
It’s a great deal of fun, wondering how one can do those things.
More editing tonight, though I might put in a little original writing. If I don’t, The Muse gets cranky.
She’s as bad as a gargoyle sometimes . . .