Though the book is up, there are issues–things I should have seen, but didn’t take care of before hitting the “Upload” button. Never fear; I’ll have everything sorted out this week. I hope.
In the meantime I’m playing with other things: concepts, story setups, that sort of thing. I need to get a Scrivener project set up for my next story, but as one person told me, I should take it easy least I burn out. Ha! I laugh at burning out–don’t I? Already I’m starting to feel like a lazy git because I’m not really working on anything. That’s a bad habit to get into, because you end up beating yourself up for the silliest things, and before you know it you’re obsessing over every damn thing that comes your way.
One of the things I’ve been on about is trying to imagine a school I built for one story–a story that could be called fan fiction of a sort–and how I can bring it over into a new world that it completely mine. There will be a number of changes to the layout and functionality of the joint, but the one thing I want to keep is a huge, grand building that sits somewhere between small castle and grand edifice. For now we’ll call it the Grand Hall, and when it was originally conceived, it was part cathedral, part meeting place, part protected school.
It’s really big, is what I want to say.
I’ve always had this image in my head about the building, and the layout. Entryway; central hall in the middle; Hospital on the second, third, and fourth floors on the left, administration on the right; library to the far end; basements below. It’s a huge building, though probably not much bigger that most modern buildings. It’s just that in my mind’s eye, I can see it being a very shadowy place, full of darkness and light beams, and during the evening, enduring silence. (Not to be confused with The Silence, who may be there anyway.)
As much as I’ve seen this place in my head, I should be able to lay out the floor place, right? Guess again, Gilbert.
I started a layout last night, starting with the central meeting hall. That place it meant to be huge, about one hundred fifty feet by fifty. Then I moved outside that point of reference, and . . .
I got as far as laying out where the staircases are–and, now that I think about it, shouldn’t be–and then I looked at the plan on the screen before me and thought, “Shit, man, this place is huge.” That was as true as anything gets, because it is a big building. With all sorts of things hidden in its black corners.
And I’ve not even thought of what the basements look like.
Everyone gets those moments when they realize they have hold of something that might be a bit too much for them to control, and this is one of those moments. It’s not that I won’t figure out the design, it’s just that it’s going to be something that takes a bit of time–just like when I was doing three dimensional designs of spaceships. Or writing a huge novel.
Don’t rush the scale. Like a mountain, you climb it slowly.
You’ll get to the summit eventually.