This book hates me. This book despises me. This book wants to see me dead in a gutter like an ex-girlfriend who caught me cheating on her with her sister. And her mother. At the same time.
Apparently this book is episode of The O.C.
Here’s the skinny:
I’m a little over 40% done with the novel’s first draft. It’s around 50k words so far and I’m just a little into writing Chapter 5 (out of 10 plotted chapters that are extremely unlikely to change). There are a few reasons why this book is so difficult for me to write and not fuck up. Unfortunately, I can’t really talk about them without giving away a few central plot points. But here’s what I can tell you. This is nearly a “back of the book” synopsis:
Sam and Una are a match made in hell. Their predilections toward alcohol and sexual deviance all but ensure they’ll live a life of depravity that will go down in history as massively insignificant. Of course, that all changes one day when they discover that Una’s statue of an aboriginal sex goddess somehow allows them to travel to alternate sex realities. Or, in other words, all of their sexual fantasies can now become manifest into reality. Everything is wild fun until things go south and that’s when Sam’s life changes dramatically. Using a series of religious objects crafted throughout all of antiquity, Sam soon journeys into the worlds of fear, dream, and even primordial chaos. And as he travels deeper and deeper down the spiraling well of alternate realities, Sam learns that the universe might have plans for him that lead him to the darkest reality he could ever imagine.
That also might be the most “babied” synopsis of my novel I’ve ever written. But I’m also trying to get you captivated by the concept and not scared out of your fucking mind. I feel like if I actually told you what I was doing, you’d say, “This fucker is mad,” and never pay me any mind again. So pardon if I try to coax you all into participating in my insanity.
I’ve also had to rewrite parts of the already written chapters a number of times. This is primarily why I couldn’t do with ‘Artefactum’ what I did with ‘A Kind of Drug’ and release it serially on this site. There are a lot of aspects with the book that are very fluid and so, as things in Chapter 5 change, they also affect Chapter 1. ‘A Kind of Drug’ was a lot more of a direct narrative and didn’t really surfer from those problems. The difference is very hard to explain, but let me try: Although ‘Artefactum’ is nothing like Memento, think of it kind of like that. Every event – every tattoo – directly affects both the beginning and the end of the story. Until the whole thing is done, I won’t know that it’s actually done. You’re just gonna have to take my word for it.
In the meantime, I’m still happily working on ‘Detail: Nowhere’ with my good friend, Jon Lewis. This project takes way less out of me and I could write it ad infinitum. Currently, I’ve planned a five issue series for us which will fall much more heavily onto his shoulders than it will mine. I can knock out a 20-page script in about ten days. But to draw, color, and add all the text, takes Jon about 3 months. Yeah, having a job is crap. He currently has the script for issue #1 in his hands and is 4 pages into it out of 28 pages. Subsequent issues will be shorter, but this will be our big, first issue bang. If he ever finishes it.
Just kidding. I love you, Jon. *smooch*
Once I finish Chapter 5 of ‘Artefactum’, I’ll probably take a break to do a lot of admin work like update ‘A Study in Bourbon’ (both grammatical edits and add ‘Fuck You, J.E. Tobal’) as well as push the full edit of ‘A Kind of Drug’.
I need an assistant.