|27 July 15,||Sonatinas On Youtube|
|4 Apr 15,||String Finger Theatre Kindle Format|
|3 Sep 14,||Clarinet & Viola Rhapsody, No. 1|
|12 Jun 14,||Violin & Oboe Rhapsody, No. 1|
|24 May 14,||Violin Vignette, No. 1|
|Pyrrhic Kingdom||64,581 words|
|The Etymology of Fire||97,184 words|
|The Faire Folk of Gideon||113,007 words|
|The Magic Flute||120,276 words|
So, yeah, the Tourist Hunter moratorium goes slowly with something resembling two months plus where I have to continue to pretend it doesn't exist, and as shouldn't be too hard to guess, this has left me at something of a loss as to what to do with myself. The plan to fill the interim was to dive headfirst back into music, and it was only after I took that leap into the musical deep end that I realized that the swimming pool was still filling with water. Just goes to show how much mental energy had gone into the writing of words. You reach the end, think okay, relax time, and the mind just goes cool, break time, done. And, you discover just how exhausted you were. Even just trying to think about music, sit at the piano, anything, is more taxing than you can possibly imagine.
It doesn't help that the writing of words and the composing of notes are surprisingly different disciplines in my head. Yeah, go figure, not like I planned it that way. They're like different tracks in my brain, and it is proving to be more than a little difficult to switch from one to the other. Probably doesn't help that I know in just a few short months I'll have to jump tracks back to the wholly word-based side to get some light editing via flamethrower done. In the meantime, everything just sounds like fifty shades of utter crap, and the first week involved the achievement of maybe half a measure over the course of an hour or two swirling around the conviction that I am a hack and a failure.
So, yeah, good times. Slow. Things have improved a bit. I've actually managed a good half-dozen measures at a stretch before the perverse forces of internal disapproval force me to stop. I'm also not trying very hard to produce anything good. It's a transitional phase, and I just need to get the mental gears to line up in the right order kind-of like a ten-speed chain clattering and falling off. I've got to slip that chain back on, pedal a few steps, watch the chain grind back off, and repeat. Yes, I'm aware I'm not trying very hard to make that analogy overly coherent.
Okay, I've finished the first draft of Tourist Hunter, and it is a hell of a lot longer than I thought it would be. Seriously, when I first started, I figured I would be lucky to get fifty thousand words out of this turkey. Maybe, just maybe, it would be as long as Pyrrhic Kingdom, and that was if I was trying really hard. So, I don't know where the hundred thousand and change came from. I even spent the last couple of chapters asking myself why it wasn't over yet. Tourist Hunter had no business being so long even if it was just the first draft.
It's a comedy. Okay, I don't know if I can really go so far as to call it a comedy. I was going more for entertainingly amusing kind-of like String Finger Theatre since I cannot tell a joke to save me life. Seriously, I should not be allowed to deliberately be funny. I can only manage to amuse people by accident, which is why String Finger Theatre aimed for mildly amusing rather than make people laugh with a joke comedy. But, I digress.
Tourist Hunter is supposed to be humorously entertaining, and that's the kind-of thing that should be done in moderation, which means one-hundred thousand words is way over the top. This worries me far more than it should, but screw it. What am I going to do, right?
Yeah, I really wish I had something interesting or exciting to put here. I look back at the archive, and there were journal entries all over the place. They carried on for miles, too. I mean, looking back, how the hell did that happen?
There were two for all of last year. Two! I should be screaming from the streets, jumping off lamp posts, and otherwise just making a big awful fool of myself. A static website is death. Death! I tell you.
So, yeah, I should have something to say. I should be writing something. I should be maintaining the vanguard here. I should be witty and entertaining, but that last bit is never going to happen so I should at least maintain something. Entropy is death, and all of that.
There's not a lot I want to say about the season finale of Doctor Who. It's a children's show, I understand that. It's like my one big guilty-pleasure show. I remember loving the hell out of Doctor Who when I was a kid, but trying to watch some of those old episodes now can be downright painful. I do try to check it out occasionally and have discovered that the best way to watch old Doctor Who is in very small doses of no more than one episode per day on non-consecutive days. So, sometimes it surprises me that I still follow the modern Doctor Who. I think it is as much nostalgia as anything else. Also, it can be entertaining. It can be amusing, and the modern show has done a good job of picking actors for the role. Christopher Eccleston was a big part of why I wanted to check out the modern Doctor Who when it first returned, and Peter Capaldi is a huge part of why I keep watching. David Tennant, yeah, he was alright. Matt Smith was very good, but Christopher Eccleston, John Hurt and Peter Capaldi are still my favorite modern incarnations of the Doctor.
Which is a longer than I expected way of saying that there's really not a lot I want to say about the season finale or even most of the season in general. The season was as hit-or-miss as Matt Smith's first season, and trying to critique the season just seems kind of pointless.
I just wanted to say a word or two about the characterization of the Master, and at first, I thought it would be really simply. Then, I realized I actually have an opinion on the Master, and I hope I can write something vaguely coherent on the topic.
I'm fond of stories that basically take the world around us and twist it in some way. There's just something really cool about it or maybe it just feeds into the whole notion of more things in heaven and earth than dreamed of in philosophy. Sure, we've got a pretty good idea of the shape of things what with science and all of that. Yay, science. But, wouldn't it just be cool if. So, yeah, there's something very escapist and exciting about imagining things being other than what they are in some way or other. Just to pick at one example, the X-Files was a hit for more than one reason, and it's really hard to escape from vampire shows, superhero movies and assorted whatnot these days.
Now, having said all of that, there is one big problem with movies and television shows, comic books and novels, that attempt to twist the world just a little bit, and that problem is the fact we have twisted the real world in some way or other while trying to ignore how that twist would actually affect the real world. I mean, once you've got that twist in there, you've basically said goodbye to the real world, but you still kind-of want it to be the real world or almost the real world.
It kind-of defeats the whole escapist dream that the real world really is more interesting than what we see around us if the twist actually causes the world to be too different. The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Dragons lobbying congress and holding rallies and whatnot would get noticed, I'm sure. Also, hard to ignore all the news stories about how—say—Fresno was burned to the ground because their sacrificial offering to the local fire-breathing lizard turned out to be slightly less than technically a virgin or whatever. Then, you've got to check the local news for updates as all of Wyoming and Utah are on high alert because Lord Ragnishthok the Black is feeling particularly cranky today and there's a 70% chance he'll be flying around looking for random people to charbroil. Nothing like that in real life.