Here Comes Everybody
Jul. 13th, 2011 09:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caper_estKiller-Kate and Luke Lackland: 1,850 words in two days. These will probably come in for some very chilly condensation later. Kate's party passes the outward adventures and persisting inward horrors of the Swale Road, and returns for the last time to her home country of Alland. The bitter, conceited, indoctrinated Widow has better points and better reasons for pressing them than I'd expected. The claw of Kate's own very peculiar and personal harpy is closing about her heart.
Some very interesting stuff is going on with this yarn's gradual expansion from our heroes' grandiose romantic narcissism in the beginning, towards a fantastic sprawl of common powers and agencies and agendas, as this most democratic-spirited of revolts reaches its physical and spiritual apogee. I'm having to invent some fairly specialized techniques on the hoof in order to convey the simultaneous real significance and narrative marginality of the ever-expanding named cast.
Masters I've found myself most conspicuously borrowing from in this connection: the Icelandic saga-writers; Tolkien; Diane Duane (Tale of the Five rather than Young Wizards flavour). Malory and William Morris, fainter echoes of. I've seen some other impressive approaches to similar problems, and had relative success one other way of my own, but here I have the answer that most obviously belongs to my world. I also have a bit of work or three to do, refining it.
There has been a lot of sick and tired lately. Now there must follow an even bigger lot of rushing about: my blogging may be sporadic or non-existent over the next fortnight or so. The sickness and tiredness is probably going to deprive me of finishing this chapter before the real rush gets going. It's got conspicuously better over today, though. One good night's sleep, and I ought to be set up for my adventures.
Night!
Some very interesting stuff is going on with this yarn's gradual expansion from our heroes' grandiose romantic narcissism in the beginning, towards a fantastic sprawl of common powers and agencies and agendas, as this most democratic-spirited of revolts reaches its physical and spiritual apogee. I'm having to invent some fairly specialized techniques on the hoof in order to convey the simultaneous real significance and narrative marginality of the ever-expanding named cast.
Masters I've found myself most conspicuously borrowing from in this connection: the Icelandic saga-writers; Tolkien; Diane Duane (Tale of the Five rather than Young Wizards flavour). Malory and William Morris, fainter echoes of. I've seen some other impressive approaches to similar problems, and had relative success one other way of my own, but here I have the answer that most obviously belongs to my world. I also have a bit of work or three to do, refining it.
There has been a lot of sick and tired lately. Now there must follow an even bigger lot of rushing about: my blogging may be sporadic or non-existent over the next fortnight or so. The sickness and tiredness is probably going to deprive me of finishing this chapter before the real rush gets going. It's got conspicuously better over today, though. One good night's sleep, and I ought to be set up for my adventures.
Night!
