Let me please preface this by saying that my friend Summer has a job that I am exceptionally enviable of – she works at the Hayden Planetarium in the American Museum of Natural History. That very museum has released a video using 4D mapping technology to impart just how little we are when compared to the grandeur of the entire universe.
Don’t be thrown off by that explanation, 4D mapping is just a method used to equate space and time as measured by light. I can’t crunch the math on it, which is why Summer is safe from me taking her job, but the theory basically states that time and space are the same thing.
The video itself is stunning, and can easily impart a sense of interstellar loneliness on the observer. And it made me instantly flash back to a video that probably had a far greater impact on my childhood than anyone at Warner Brothers Animation intended. Of course, I speak of Yakko Warner’s Universe Song
That song does a fairly good job of driving home an existential crisis, doesn’t it? To think, this show was aimed at grade schoolers.
For those who prefer to feel insignificant with a more upbeat tempo, and loads more British thrown in to boot, there’s always Monty Python’s Universe song from the classic film “The Meaning of Life.”
And I suppose I should say something uplifting now like, even though you got a parking ticket today, you can take heart in knowing that at that very moment, a star, somewhere in the far off reaches of space, was born. But really, that’s not my style. Instead, I’m going to be logging of the Internet in a bit to get back to work on my book.
My current goal is to complete the first draft of Project Kingdom by February 14th. Valentine’s Day. How many stars will be born between now and then?
Things have been quiet around here lately, but not for lack of trying. Frankly, for someone who hasn’t earned an honest paycheck since June, I’ve been remarkably busy. First, I’ve been doing a good bit of freelancing work, so much so that I had to take a good joke and try and turn it into an honest business. If you remember The Pandemic Group – the fake new media marketing company I started when the Swine Flu first became big news – you might be shocked (shocked!*) to see that the fake website has since been replaced with a brochure landing page.
Yes, that does mean I am starting my own company. And I already have some really cool clients. Instead of operating a strict SEO company, I’m leveraging what I call “conversational marketing” – that is combining smart SEO practices with helping companies take advantage of social media to find current and new customers and turn them into friends.
And speaking of social media, I presented on that very topic – of honing in your passion and finding others who share it – at this month’s Social Media Club here in Richmond. I had a blast and will post the videos of said presentation when they become available. I use the plural because not only was my presentation recorded, but I was also interviewed by Jolie O’Dell who came up what I believe she called “Robb’s Theorem on Furries in Niche Marketing.”
The basic premise of that theory is that furries, people dressed up like animals pretending to be people, is perhaps as far removed from normal life as any particular niche or vertical can be. And yet, when you take that passion and expand it onto a global scale, furries measure in the millions. If such a finite passion can measure in that quantity, other niches can reasonably duplicate that kind of community.
The video interview wasn’t the only bit of press that night. Grid Magazine was in attendance and snagged not only the photo of my above, but also a fairly good recap of the night in general. I do believe that this article officially marks the first time I’ve been on the other side of a printed byline. Yes, I’ve been on the local NBC affiliate a few times, but there is a special place in my heart for printed journalism.
And finally, in fiction writing news, I am now a full chapter into the second act of Project Kingdom. In the traditional Three Act Structure, this one is always my favorite. Why? Because the first act is really a setup, establishing the characters, pushing the hero on their call to action, setting the characters on their chosen paths and providing small victories which seem huge at the time. The first act, in other words, is driving by the characters. In the second act, everything is taken away from them.
Mark my words, the second act of Project Kingdom is where things get real. Across the board, characters find their best laid plans going to waste, and even those pulling the strings find themselves losing control. People die. Things go wrong. Powers shift and roles are revered on a regular basis. And I’m exceptionally excited about writing it.
But I’m going to pound out a short story first. Why? Well, I watched the documentary “Postcards from the Future” on Friday night, and Chuck Palahniuk got me all inspired. I started thinking about technology, darkness, and the digital artifacts we leave behind. Throw in a castoff line from a Washington Social Scene Song…(“If any rock’s going to save my soul then what the fuck is it waiting for?”) and a story started to brew.
I banged out an outline in a few minutes, and I liked what I saw. I still don’t know the characters, but I’ve got 4,000 words left on my goal for WriteClubRVA, and I figure it’s about time I knock out something I can show.
I guess that means people are going to get a free story from me. If you’re wondering what my short stories typically look like, I’ve got a couple online in my portfolio.
*Bonus points if you got that movie reference. Hint – it’s my all time favorite film.
It took me nearly a thousand words into the first chapter of Project Kingdom before I killed someone. Granted, the one who died wasn’t by any means a character in the novel. No, the one who fell is just a by-product of a violent scenario.
As a war veteran, I’m more than familiar with death. The problem is, how far do I water down life and death in combat for my readers?
I’m prone to lean towards realism while trying to maintain the sense of story. After all, I know that war is something for people with a serious stomach, and I don’t want to turn off any readers.
So, the first kill in my novel is rather cinematic.
Setting the scene
Edmon, the spearman in the following, is one of the two protagonists in my novel. He’s just one of dozens of characters, but the story follows him rather closely. In the following scene, he engages in the first act of fatal violence in the book. It’s by no means the last.
In an attempt to make the scene easier on the reader’s palate, I’ve made it more cinematic. My question is…
Too much?
A cry caught his attention, and instinct guided the blade of Edmon’s spear upwards. His eyes locked in horror on a pair of hands raised over a head, grasping the wooden handle of a large rock hammer.
Those hands went limp. That rock hammer fell slowly, tumbling downwards. Edmon watched it as it passed arms that framed a face covered in a beard, black tattoos, and soot. He watched the hammer fall before rough shoulders and a bare, barrel of a chest. He watched it fall in front of a stomach splashed red and wet in blood.
The hammer clanked and clattered against the ground, jumping up and down a few times until finally settling with a handful of shivers. Edmon reached forward and pushed the Bayard warrior with his foot, freeing the end of his spear. The fallen warrior slumped onto the ground, groaning slightly as Edmon kept on his flanking run.
The later violence proceeds in a much quicker manner, however, this scene greets the reader a scant five pages into the first
chapter.
What do you think?
How do you handle violence in your works? How do you handle violence in your works? Do you hide it behind clever art, or deal with in blunt realism?
As a war vet, as some one with kills attached to his name, I can say that there is no sense of morality attached to the act. But, for the reader’s benefit, should I construct one?
Things have been quiet around here lately, but not for lack of trying. Frankly, for someone who hasn’t earned an honest paycheck since June, I’ve been remarkably busy. First, I’ve been doing a good bit of freelancing work, so much so that I had to take a good joke and try and turn it into an honest business. If you remember 
Bradley Robb likes TV and books, and has an intense dislike for cinnamon. Once, Bradley stopped a Soviet T-60 with his middle finger. Bradley writes speculative fiction and edits Fiction Matters, and never really got the hang of talking about himself in the third person.