The serials project. Ten to twelve thousand words a month, split into four chapters each around 3000 words. No outlines, no plans. Freeform writing. A lesson in discipline. An experiment with the Midnight Disease that forces me to keep writing.
I started “Vote for Mithras” in early June when I experienced what Facebook would call a “change in my relationship status.” That was on June 7th. A date that will live in infamy, right?
I had just finished the first chapter. So I was a quarter done and well ahead of myself. My goal has been to try and be at least two months ahead so that, if there is an unforeseen circumstance, I can keep the serials project going without interruption.
So here I am, at the tail-end of an unforeseen circumstance, writing the intro for “Vote to Mithras” and, as I write this (July 17th), I haven’t yet returned to writing. The last month has been a long, sad odyssey. It’s mainly been focused on relieving my financial worries so that I can afford the high rents of the DC suburbs on my own and keep on keeping on. As always, when confronted with a crisis, there’s a sense of a perfect storm. My girlfriend dumps me, and just about everything in each of my five jobs comes to a lunatic fringe head.
It’s how these things work. There are no orderly queues when it comes to disaster. Or, rather, life changes. That big wheel turning again. The record spinning once more.
I have no idea if I’ll finish “Vote for Mithras.” The next three weeks (including this post) are good to go. Will I snap back into action during that time and finish this serial? Well… You have a front row seat, my loyal five readers. Let’s see what happens.
But, first, the original intro (written in early June, and providing some background info on this serial):
I had intended to launch the first section of an epic fantasy novel I’ve been toying with for 15 years. But, instead, when it came time to work on this one, I found myself absorbed with this story.
I read that in the morning and then joined the multi-talented Jimmy Patterson for happy hour that night where an unrelated and inebriated conversation led us to theorize about the possibility of archeological evidence one day surfacing to prove that the Greeks had it right all along, and a pantheon of weirdo gods ruled over Humanity.
Receding ice? The lost history of the human race? Perfect! My highly predictable fantasy epic moved to the back burner and I started this one. The Old Gods return next week.