An Unholy Buzzing

As my Dad would say, "I don't know if I'm washing or hanging out." (He's got a million of 'em, nyuk, nyuk)

I'm listless - nothing satisfies - not watching a movie, not TV, not reading - book, magazine,The Weekly, don't want to take a nap, don't want to listen to music, don't want to draw, don't want to go anywhere, the house is boring and fairly clean, I'm beat, I'm broke, I'm bored -- but -- but there's this one thing, this kind of buzzing in my ear...

Silly as it may be...or simple as it may be...all I want out of life...God, it's going to look so stupid and tiny written out here...all I want to do is write a fantasy story. Yes, yes, yes...like a million geeks and losers before me, I know. Something vast and world building and magical but personal and real and dark.

All day today - the bare bones of these strange characters have been bugging me, showing me glimpses of themselves...I'm not even sure where they would all fit into the story yet...I'm not even sure exactly what the story would be...and I'm scared cause I just don't think I have the chops to try...I don't know that I know how to flesh them out, fill in the blanks, and put them all into a story...

What if you're a fuck up and a failure -- but suddenly, you're the only person around when people need help -- and you know that if you do nothing, people will get hurt -- you're not part of the flock anymore, you're not anonymous -- you're all people have, not because of some lame prophecy or fate -- just dumb luck, randomness, and your own sense of...how things should work -- what if this were the event that forced you to grow up and become an adult, in a scary adult world, full of lots of people who have played the game longer than you -- and in most cases, play it better -- but you have to try --

I think that's the theme for the main guy, the main character (no crazy fantasy names yet, ha-ha).

I think of the stories I like (Martin, Meiville, Herbert) and what those people have done with the fantasy standards -- how they turn them on their heads -- vast, sprawling worlds that seem real or like they could be 'the world next door' - they have weight, history, and kind of a dirty mundane quality. No black and white. Tons of gray. Three million sides to everything.

No Dark Lords -- in my mind -- the villain (or the proto-villain) is kind of the middle management of evil. Or better yet, of entrophy. He just wants to maintain the status quo -- keep everything right where it is -- no matter what.

These other characters pop up like suits from a strange Tarot Deck: The Assassin Infested With Two Demons, The Boy Whore (sometimes thought of as The Painted Boy), The Drug Addicted Cardsharp, The Savage King (Savage King Simon, sometimes), The Failed Messiah, and his sister, The Possible Messiah....and of course my 'hero' (sometimes thought of as The Worst Apprentice)...and the 'villain' (sometimes thought of as The Chamberlain -- like Dark Crystal)....there are others....fucking Cecil B. Demille, right....and other concepts: a decadent, crumbling empire....an upstart nation....rebellions....spies....strange bloodlines....dying gods (or things that might at one time thought of themselves as gods)....

I don't know quite what to do with this. I'm at a lose, at sea. There's all this buzzing and I don't know how to make sense of it....and the thought of fucking it up....

It's scary to start. It's scary to think that you just don't have the talent to get from Point A to Point B.

And I can't even quite see Point A from where I am now.