Hi readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.
Jeanne tells me November’s going to have several thousand people grinding out first drafts of immortal prose again. Poor old Universe will be ducking and dodging new characters, events, plots, subplots, trying to keep track of what’s really happening, and what someone dredged up from the imagination and stuffed into 50,000 words packed into the month of November.
I’ve wondered about this phenomenon for a longish time, several years, and honestly can’t quite figure it. Probably tens of thousands of November novels written in past years nobody but the authors ever laid an eye to all the way through. Pages, electrons on the screen, characters floating around in the ether wondering what the hell happened, why their pent-up events just ground to a halt.
All I can figure is those people doing that are trying to shoot down the Universe and know it’s going to take a lot of ammunition.
If a person were looking for a worthy project that would be less likely to damage the Universe he might consider taking the JRR Tolkein Lord of Rings trilogy and working it up into a second draft, which wossname, Tolkein failed to do. At least not the part about say, cutting about 2/3 of the extraneous immortal prose, working it around so it’s tight, a pleasure on the tongue of the Universe, rather than just something out of some fast food joint.
Maybe someone everyone does what he says will think of this sometime and tell them they ought to do that instead of picking out targets of opportunity trying to shoot down the Universe.