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Quinn Chapman and the Altar of Evil I

Quinn Chapman and the Altar of Evil The flames of Hades flickered off the rough hewn walls of the cavern as I stumbled my way deeper into the earthen maw. Acrid, black smoke invaded my eyes, blurring my vision and clouding my lungs. Dark voices shouted in a rhythmic chant somewhere beyond the hall of fire through which I now walked. My body was cut and bruised; my clothes turned to rags barely clinging to my sweat glistened flesh.  What maligned road led me to my current state of depravity? My mind flickered back to that fateful day in the warrens of Singapore, to one of the myriad of seedy opium dens lining the alleys. It was there that I found the remnants of the infamous Anglo explorer Sir Percival Covington.  I pushed back the shoddy veil of the curtain to find Sir Percival upon his back, clad in sweat-stained khaki and a weeks' worth of grime. So much for the hero of the British Empire. His glazed eyes alighted upon me, and a flicker of recognition danced across his ...

What am I working on? I wish I knew...

  


Ok. You got me. I actually know what I am working on. I suppose I should say something about it, so it appears like I am not completely bullshitting this whole wannabe writer schtick. 

A writer, even an unpublished one has to be actively writing something. It can be a poem, a short story, a screenplay, or a novel. Anything will due, just write. That is the page I am on right now.

In grade school and high school I rarely paid any attention to our grammar lessons and did not put much effort into writing my assignments. I regret the grammar part, but not the assignments. Their, either the teacher or the curriculum, choices of topics and genres did little to allow my imagination to flow free. I did try. When we had to write an argument essay in 11th grade, I argued for the existence of the Loch Ness monster. Something like that was not the intent of the project. I always tried to force my interests into my assignments like forcing a square peg into a round hole (get your mind out of the gutter...there isn't room for both of us in here...). The teachers more often then not disabused me of such notions and thus killed my will to write.

Over the last few years, I have started several projects without any idea how to go about starting and planning a book. I would just write, which is not entirely wrong, and not plan anything for characters and their story arcs. It was not something I thought about. My ideas are based on my interests and on what I have read in the past. I want to re-tell stories that I love, but with my own take on how things should have gone down. I like genre clichĆ©s. I do not get tired of them and will seek books and shows that are similar to my favorites. I know everyone always wants something new, but everything is cyclical and whatever you are interested in writing may suddenly be in vogue again.  

    The three different books I am working on are throwbacks to my favorite genres, the Pulp Adventure Novels mixed with some action thriller. Think Indiana Jones, Uncharted, and Michael Crichton (he was way smarter than me and did more work in and hour then I do in a year so...grain of salt) The names are all working titles and are subject to all that copyright nonsense.

  • Jewel of the Sahara
  • Caribbean Gold
  • Below: Into the Hollow Earth

I plan on writing a post about each story I am working on or even thinking about working on. I also want to do status updates for my main working projects and talk about where I am getting hung up, like actually sitting down to write. Hopefully someone will follow this and comment with their own experiences and give some constructive help. If not, then I am getting in some good practice.


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