So, I Did It...

So, I Did It...

Burning with the fire of bad literature, I went ahead and started my own novel. And, as I threatened in the previous post, I've started it in a blog. I've titled the novel Worst Luck, and I am so excited about it I could pee!



Of course, I am already bogged down in backstory, and I only have about eight pages. But the idea of a blog-novel is that once I am finished with a portion of text, I will stop futzing about with it and move on to the next bit... and futzing endlessly with what I've already written, instead of writing to further the plot, was a serious problem I experienced the last few times I tried writing fiction. Once I get to the end of the first draft, then I can start revisions.



I am forcing myself to end "Chapter 1, Part 1" today and start on the next part tomorrow or the next day because I need some time to think about where the narrative should go, whether the reader needs a break from the so-far-continuous observation of the main character, or whether to continue along with the same exacting focus. Also, a new regular reader has already found the blog-novel and commented... once it's been read and commented on, it's time to stop and move on.



But fret not, my dears: I will not abandon Mannersism in favor of Worst Luck; I will still need somewhere to talk about myself instead of the charmingly narcissistic Danny Vandervere. But the two projects will be concurrent, and I will let you know when a new portion had been posted.



In other news, Caroline and I saw Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban last night. Aside from a blatant misuse of narrative time (leaving all sorts of gaps and loose ends to plague the ten viewers who haven't yet read the book) in favor of gorgeous but completley irrelevant cinematographic vignettes, it was a terrific film. The new director, Alfonso Cuarón (best known for the erotic naked-boy epic Y Tu Mama También), took the aesthetics of the series in a whole new direction from the childish slapstick that Chris Columbus gave the first two films, rendering a much richer and darker magical realism, and the art-direction was just unutterably delicious. The very quality of the light and angles made the film a must-see.



I suppose one day God will strike me dead for harboring lustful thoughts about adolescent boys, but Daniel Radcliffe (who will be fifteen next month, a trifle closer to legal than the thirteen-year-old he's portraying) is fucking hot. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, his brilliant eyes and elegant features and porcelain English skin, he's simply entrancing. I look forward to seeing what new degrees of beauty this child might reach in upcoming episodes of the series. Of course, he might become grotesque... you never can tell with kids. Leo diCaprio was similarly entrancing at that age, but he went through a few phases in his career where he simply looked wrong, like an ill-tempered guppy.



One last little complaint I had about the film, though: aside from the gaps in the narrative that forced me to explain to Caroline the inexplicable behavior of a number of the characters and tie up a lot of the loose ends (what happened to Peter Pettigrew? what did Professor Trelawney's prophecy mean? why did Snape claim revenge when he captured Sirius Black?), I found the footsteps moving about on the Marauder's Map that made up the closing credits so distracting that I couldn't read the credits themselves.



I know most people consider the closing credits nothing more than their cue to get up and leave the theater, but I always sit through the credits and read all the names and wonder over all of the odd job-titles. It's one of my favorite parts of a movie. And when I realized that I had been watching the footprints moving around and trying to read the Latin words that made up the walls in the map, instead of reading the names that I so love, I felt utterly betrayed.



But then, I'm weird. However, it's interesting to note that all of my friends with whom I ever go to the movies also like reading the closing credits; I can use that practice as a measure of compatibility.



Well, anyway, I'm off to bed for a little light reading and an early-ish night. I'm absolutely exhausted from creative thinking, but it's a good kind of tired. While I'm off doing that, why don't you go have a read of "Chapter 1, Part 1" (though I should warn you, it is frankly erotic, and gay-erotic at that)... and don't forget to tell me what you think!



By the way, I notice from my Blogger Dashboard that this is my 400th post to Mannersism. That calls for a celebration!



Kisses!