I have nothing to say.
Really, and I don’t just mean here, in my weekly column where I am supposed to… you know… say stuff. I’ve been like this all week in the “real world,” largely because I haven’t been in it very much.
I am hip-deep in the writing of the fourth book in a series – an epic fantasy set in a world I started creating while I was still a history student, in about 1997. So for something over 14 years, it is a place where I have spent a lot of time, and now I know it far better than the world where I actually live, as mine originated in my head. For the last several years I have been writing stories set within that world, which furthermore means I’ve been spending a lot of time with people who also started out in my noggin, but now dwell on the page, and hopefully, in some readers’ heads as well.
The one break I had from writing this week came about because a reader asked a map related question. I have a ton of hand-drawn maps for the world of The Norothian Cycle, though a lot are bad sketches in notebooks, as instead of creating the place “whole cloth” I started out primitive, and sort of played out centuries of history. Kind of like an internal game of Civilization. I’ve prettied up some maps via rudimentary graphics programs (yup, Paint) for inclusion in the books, have a few over at my blog, but the majority of them are still the homemade jobbies Not Ready for Primetime. So when a reader asked to see a perspective map of two full continents, and I flippantly said “Sure,” that killed two days right there. It also meant that the one break I took from being immersed in my fictional world while writing, was stopping to draw a picture out of it.
So basically, I am at this moment divorced from reality. There’s still presidential politics, grim news stories, sturm and drang, and all the rest of it going on in the world, ad nauseum. And I am merrily adrift from it all. I’m thinking hard about the expansionist policies of the Codian Empire, and a very uncivil Civil War in Ayzantium. I’m vexed Tilda Lanai is raking in coins hand-over-fist during the Miilarkian Embargo of Souterm, and yet seems unfulfilled by the whole thing. I’m happy Heggenauer and Allison are “getting along,” though I know there is some darkness looming ahead of them both, down the road in a port city occupied by demons. I am, in short, lost in my own world.
And I love it. I really do. Because seriously, what’s so great about the real world? One of those “writer questions” frequently asked by and of us all is “What’s your favorite thing about being a writer?” and I’m starting to think this is it. When a story feels so real, whether writing or reading it, that it can take you fully away from where you are, at least for a while. Escapism from the everyday humdrum and monotony, to a place where the horror is not real, and the good guys actually have a fair chance of winning. How cool is that? How cool to be able to make a few real world bucks living in that place? Yes, to succeed, we as writers are supposed to treat this all like a business – nurture our brand, flog our wares, yadda-yadda-yadda. But don’t forget along the way, that we’re still in the Magic Biz, creating whole worlds out of winking synapses.
And there’s no place I’d rather be.
Now if you’ll excuse me, back to “work.”
———————–
As always in closing, an excerpt from a real one-star review, of a real book, by a real reader. Seriously, I couldn’t make these up.
“This book makes no sense at all. The movie made a lot more sense. “
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
* * * * *
M. Edward McNally is the author of the Norothian Cycle books: The Sable City, Death of a Kingdom, and The Wind from Miilark, and multiple free short story volumes titled Eddie’s Shorts. He has been writing for twenty of the last thirty years and does not recommend the ten year spell of writer’s block in the middle. Ed is a contributor at Indies Unlimited (IU Bio Page) and tilts at his own windmills over at http://sablecity.wordpress.com/
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Escapism – it's what I write, it's what I love and it's what I read. We all need it. Now back to work – or is it play? The One Isle calls.
Totally agree.
Thanks for the great post, Ed.
Where did you find that photo? Please put it on Pinterest, so that I can re-pin it. I call myself home by clicking those red shoes. All my friends call me Dorothy.
If you don't have any Pinterest boards, I recommend it as a form of therapy. It works like a vision board.
Thanks all, and I'm not on Pinterest, Marcia, nor any of the other facebook ap/game stuff. I figure by only keeping the writing as my form of therapy, there's a better chance to get more writing done. 😉
Though that image will pop up near the top if you just Google "pictures of ruby slippers."
Love the post Ed…
Marcia, I looked it up and added it to my pin. You should be able to find it here: http://pinterest.com/pin/216524694554840843/
You Indies Unlimited people, every time you post something, a thing occurs inside my head that is popularly referred to as "a thought". And this time, the thought is: what does it say about horror writers if they are creating worlds *more* awful than the real one? See, fantasy writers get to say "escapism", but horror/dystopian folks can't use that as their motivation. It's genuinely perplexing.
That is an interesting question, David, almost one – dare I say it – worth being serious about for a moment.
It is something I've wondered, as I don't myself read or write much that really qualifies as "dark," as for me it's just too depressing to go there. But a lot of readers love it, and obvously writers love writing it. Maybe if something is so terrible, it makes the terrible real world seem less bad by comparison? Got me on that one.
It's a conundrum, for sure. I think there has to be something cathartic to it, but only for some people. And what makes some people enjoy that dark stuff, need that catharsis, whether to read or to write, is a mystery. Maybe it's trauma… although I'm sure there are plenty of good and great writers of horror who *haven't* suffered personal trauma. And many writers of other genres who had awful childhoods yet never explore that in their writing. So, yeah, it's mysterious.
Great post, Ed. And interesting thought, D. Because generally my literary worlds are more unpleasant than the real one, too. Do I escape to a bad place so the real place seems better. But then, I don't have an imagination like you do Ed. So, maybe my writing isn't as true a form of escapism. Ah, well. There will always be white-out to huff. What do you mean they changed the formula? Curses!
They did? Aw. The Man's always messing with our need for hedonistic abandon.
Yeah, and Elmer's Glue is a huge letdown, too.
Like going from heroin to Tylenol!
Yes, I’m with you, Ed. Even though I write faction, there’s something comforting about having Special Agent Night and her partner in my corner. It’s just a better place to be. 🙂
I like those red shoes. And the wand.
Ah hah! Fourteen years…that explains a great deal 🙂
I just started to read The Sable City and [loving it btw] the thing that had me crying into my keyboard was the sheer scope of the history you just casually drop into the prose. I know full well you don't get that level of backstory in five minutes. I've started to accumulate some of the history of my world but it only spans 500 years, not thousands. I'm very impressed 😀
Thanks AC, and yeah, there's years of work behind the setting. That's where being a history nerd really works for me. 😉