On Writing Something New (Or Someone Please Stop Me)
Though I am ‘officially’ working on three specific novels right now — and you can see the progress on each at the footer of this website — that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’d wager I’m far from the only writer who procrastinates like a champion when he or she knows exactly what’s the Word document that should be getting bigger.
I do it all the time. When it’s a bad night, I waste time on Facebook or looking at the dankest memes; when it’s a good night, I do have Word open (several windows worth of Word), only not in the correct window.
There’s something satisfying about feeling like a tiny fleck lost in a huge world that doesn’t care about you, and that’s more or less what writing a long-form book (or series) feels like. You’re slowly chipping at something that’s already established and huge. It’s also the reason why I enjoyed so much to take a dive back into “The Wheel of Time”, halfway through the series, after several years of dropping it (I’m in book five). It’s like exploring as opposed to creating, and it’s great.
But there’s also something very satisfying about creating something new from a scratch. As a writer, the earlier you are into creating a new story, the more freedom you have; after all, you have all the power to set up the rules, but then you have to abide by them. So that’s what’s awesome about starting fresh! Suddenly it’s you who is huge, and the universe before you that is small. An infinite power for creation exists before you because there are no rules (yet). It’s what I imagine wielding the Infinity Gauntlet
will feel like.
I mean, would feel like.
[laughs in nervous]
Recently (as in, when the sixth season of “Game of Thrones” ended-recently), I had an itch to begin something new. Something that would rival that ridiculously good hour and a half of television in terms of drama and scope and payoff. I know that it’s not good to say that while I’m writing book three of “The Armor of God”, as it implies that “The God That Failed” doesn’t rival “The Winds of Winter” (I want it to, but I don’t think I’m good enough), but I know what Armor is and what it isn’t.
A hugely complicated political plot it isn’t.
And that’s what I want to write next. A huge political plot. Only with spaceships and magic and shit.
The document I have open is titled “Mass Effect Game of Thrones in Space Thing.doc”, though now it’s become the “Universe of Glass” series. Is this massive undertaking, which I want it to be, that I will actually finish as I’ll finish “The Armor of God” trilogy?
Fuck knows. I’m already halfway through a “Skies Of Therian Book 1: The God Whisper” and instead of finishing that I’ll just incorporate it into the “Universe of Glass” series.
The point is that one of my favorite feelings as a writer is to open up a document, scribble whatever the hell comes into my mind, write thirty-something chapter titles that don’t mean anything at all but still sound cool (my patented “never run out of ideas” method, which you can find in this book and was featured in this blog post in what has to be the most goddamn flattering thing I’ve stumbled upon), and then literally start “Chapter 1” blindly.
I never did this before “The Armor of God”, and now I find it soothing and refreshing.
When you’re in the middle of something as big as a trilogy, taking a few hours off to write something totally different is like taking a big gulp of icy Sprite to freshen your mouth before going back to the 45oz steak.
This isn’t some official announcement about what I’m doing after Armor and Reverie, because I don’t know how far I’m going with it, but it looks good because I’m damn excited about it. This is just a small “behind the scenes” look at the writing process.
But hey, if you’ve ever wanted to read a book told partly through a galactic supervillain’s point of view, you might be interested.
I just hope this doesn’t slow down work on “The God that Failed”.