Roll Away the Dragon’s Gold

After a long day, after a blog post and a nearly three thousand word article with pictures, I started on the last chapter of Suggestive Amusements.  Yes, we’re on that final stretch of a few thousand words that will wrap up the story and then pack up the manuscript–or, in my case, save it off to both my external hard drives–and move onto the next project, which is getting Her Demonic Majesty ready for epublishing.

I have my plan laid out, I really do.

So laid out, in fact, that I just updated my idea file with something that came to me this morning, another early morning, where I had a song in my head that refused to retreat to a neutral corner, and the idea that came to me for a story that I’ve played with for some time, but could never really get the hook in to keep me interested.  That happens some times; you get a feeling for something, but it never really comes to fruition, it only sort of lingers there and feels like it doesn’t want to play.

Today I will attempt to finish the current work in progress.  It’s time.  It’s the 24th of March, and I’ve been on this for almost ninety days–okay, if I finish today, it’s eighty-five, close enough.  For seventy thousand words, and change, it’s a long time to be writing, and I need to do other things.  Makes me wonder what I’m going to do after getting Demonic Majesty and Replacements up to the great ebook market–

I know one thing I won’t do . . .

Today, maybe an hour ago, I saw a comment in one of my writer’s groups.  The commented indicated that they were thinking of taking a setting and characters from another writer’s published story and writing a novel based upon those with the intention of commercial gain, and they wanted to know how people felt about that.  Gotta hand it to him, at least he came right out and said he was stealing–

I can think of two instances where I’ve tried my hand at fan fiction.  Once, a long time back when I was in a writer’s group, I developed a story that revolved around a role playing game setting.  While I used the game world, the characters were my own.  I did the same thing a few years ago with some Star Trek fanfic I did that was, once again, based around a game I was in at the time.  (A very bad game, but that’s a story for another time.)

I enjoyed working on both stories–up to a point, that is.  The point came when I realized that I had great characters, but I was using them in a world that wasn’t mine, and it didn’t feel right.  While I still feel connected to the characters, I feel as if I can’t reenter those stories simply because of where they take place.

It feels like I got lazy and decided to take the easy way out.

I’ve always said that if my stories ever got to the point where other thought my characters were worth stealing for their own stories, I’d probably want to shut down any and all fan fics as quickly as possible.  Most writers work hard to bring believable worlds and place believable characters into those worlds, and it feels like you’re getting bent over when you find that someone has taken one or the other, or both, and turned them into their own personal amusement.

I could also sorta look at it from the point of view offered by a writer friend this morning when I mentioned Fifty Shades of Grey: “I’ma more terrified someone loved her characters to make fan fiction outta them.”  ‘Cause when you get right to it, there’s some creepy fanfic shit out there, and you gotta wonder what motivation lay behind putting a couple of ripped-off character in bed with a wolverine and a steel-spiked strap-on.  Not that I would ever think like that . . .

So there’s only one thing to do–

Get famous so I can go after people who steal my characters.

A worthy goal, don’t you think?


Of Late I Dream of Beta Quadrant

Today is one of those Fake Tuesdays:  the ones after a three-day weekend that pretends it’s a Monday.  And it feels that way.  It feels long, slow, and tiring.  It feels like one of those days where you want to stay in bed and sleep the day away.

It was a little like that yesterday as I returned to The Undisclosed Location.  The traffic wasn’t bad, but the time felt way off.  It was alternately sunny and gloomy, and when I stepped out of the car, it felt like I’d entered a steam bath.

Then I drifted off to sleep–and woke up at 3 AM.  Lay in bed until the alarm went off, hoping against hope that I’d doze off and get a little dream time in.  Nope, not a chance.  The motto of The Undisclosed Location is, “Never Give a Sucker An Even Break,” and guess who is playing the role of The Sucker?

Needless to say, keeping my mind focused on something for long is a bit of a struggle.  The mind feels like swiss cheese, and the body feels a little cold–probably caused by, as someone mentioned, a combination of low blood pressure and stress.  It doesn’t matter:  the brain is feeling like it needs a road trip, and the body is saying, “Wait . . . I thought you were flying?”

As usually happens when I get bored or tired, my mind starts wandering to different things, different stories, different ideas.  I haven’t been all over the place as I often am, but the mind keeps slipping away to another place–

Somewhere about thirty thousand light years distant, to be exact.

For some reason, I’m going over the plight–well, sort of semi-life–of a character I once made for an aborted Star Trek role playing game–one that I’ve often referred to as the worst game I’ve ever played.  I loved the character, and the history I created for him, but if I were given the choice of going back in time and gaming with the same bunch, or having a body part gnawed off by a rabid squirrel, I’d take the latter option.

There was a time, however, when I wasn’t doing anything between sessions of dealing with idiots and munchkins, and given that time I wrote.  I don’t want to say what I was doing was fanfic, but it was.  Or maybe I was just writing history, since my fanfic didn’t involve my character getting involved with any green women.

But I’ve been drawn back to this limited story, not just yesterday, but today.  I think it was because I was looking up something that ended up in a scene, and it got me thinking about what I’d written a couple of years back.  I know that nothing I wrote back then was worth a damn, but it gave me a little bit of peace, because it helped me deal with the fact that I was gaming with hyper-spacial doucherockets.

Will I do anything with this work?  Probably not.  Maybe take it out and read it, cringing here and there when I come across a bad line or three.

Still . . . it’s on my mind.  Can’t tell you if that’s good or bad.