I find, I think in common with many people of a similar family situation, than I frequently want to strangle my brother.
I’m not going to, this is no open confession of murder or even actual murderous intent. A Simpsons-style strangling, with lots of funny noises and no one actually getting hurt, would be the ideal, in that it would vent the frustration without engaging the interest of the police or one’s own sense of guilt. However, since that’s not really an option, I’ll just have to live with wanting to do it. Anyway, it is frequently useful or comforting to have a sibling, sometimes even both, so I try not to hang onto the sensation.
Sometimes, though…. But I’m being obscure. I was talking about something I had seen on these Interwebz of ours a couple of weeks ago, the thrust of which was the failure of most games that get “Lovecraftian” hung on them to handle the great lurking menace to all reality properly. The problem is, in a nutshell, that games offer the chance to win, even if winning is really hard, and the whole point of the notion of “Lovecraftian” is that the greatest triumph possible is to never realize how utterly insignificant all human activity is on a cosmic scale. My brother isn’t quite as much of a fan of Ol’ Providence as I am, but he reads enough Mike Mignola comics to appreciate that sort of thing. I went on like a dummy to say that I had a vague notion of writing a fake review of a game that actually does it right.
He had a laugh, and then grew thoughtful. I believe I have mentioned that my brother is a graphic artist. By this we understand that his brain doesn’t work quite like a normal human thinker. Some damn muse or another spoke into his receptive ear, and like the conduit to the invisible that all artists occasionally become, he spoke.
“That would make an awesome Choose-Your-Own Adventure book!”
Well.
Damn.
It.
Not only was he right, he seems to have stuck the notion firmly down my interhemispheric fissure. All last week it was wearing away at the cortex it was up against as I was getting through those second and third draft things that were screeching for attention, and I actually began writing it on Sunday. I’m now thirty-five pages along, and it’s turning into actual work.
The positive aspect of this current project is that I suspect it will be rather good practice for a proper novel; all this keeping track of different story lines, without the requirement that they all end up connecting or at least agreeing at the end, is bound to help the eventual full enterprise. The negative aspect, apart from “what’s the market for Choose-Your-Own Adventure works?,” is that it will make the progress reports even more boring for the foreseeable than they have been (and I’m under no illusions on that front). Adjustments may occur, if the Watchful Conscience will allow.
But there’s still some time left, and the blank pages call.
Today’s pen: Sheaffer 300
Today’s ink: Pelikan Violet