Chrome Stripped Off

 

I don't know what you think, but for me, that version's a loser. The story is there, but it's not elegant. It's like a Cadillac with the chrome stripped off and the paint sanded down to dull metal. It goes somewhere, but it ain't, you know, boss. 

Soldiering on with my year of unread King novels, yesterday I finished Needful Things, and started The Stand (I know, I know, why is The Stand one I haven't read yet?). I'm reading the "Complete and Uncut Edition" that released in 2020. My paperback version is 1,296 pages. Yeehaw. 

I'm not going to do a review of Needful Things. It manages to be both small-scale and large-scale horror, and in true King fashion, the real horrors are the evils humans deliver upon one another, and the monster is a big ol' metaphor. I really enjoyed it, but that was to be expected. He's one of my all-time favorites, and his work is perhaps the only thing keeping me going creatively with this year's writing. 

I won't say I'm in a rut. I don't have writer's block. If anything, I have an abundance of ideas, and a deep frustration that I might never have the chance to bring them into the light. Lord Have Mercy is the book that never ends, like that friggin' Lambchop song. The rest of The Drake Chronicles are twisty, and turny, and complex, and not a soul out there has guessed where it's headed; rather, book five seems to have upset a lot of readers, and I'm not sure there's enough patience out there to wait for the whole thing to develop at its own pace. It's epic fantasy, which means lots of characters, lots of POVs, lots of setbacks, and surprises, and reveals...but is it worth my time and energy at this point? Can I afford to block off time to work on Lionheart? Would any of my other WIPs be better received? The space opera Lawson's working on in College Town is in fact one of my own projects, but, like every other stupid thing I write, it's going to be long, and involved, and layered, and a weird blend of genres, so how is that any better? Sure, Lauren, let's add a thousand-page book about alien invasion, and secret military projects, and body horror, and immortality, and found family, and childhood sweethearts. That'll really do the trick. 

In short: I'm grumpy about writing lately, and haven't felt much like posting. I am writing. But grumpily. 

Mostly, I think I'm just ready to be done with LHM. I won't rush it, but I've got end-of-book burnout, and want to get to the end. Also, are you even an author if you're not subject to fits of melancholy? 

I took a little comfort from the preface of The Stand yesterday. Even if you've already read the original version of the novel, it's worth opening up the sample on Amazon to read King's preface for the uncut version. I've always been a verbose writer; his work didn't inspire that in me, but, rather, offered a comfort when I was younger: it's not just me. Other writers approach the craft the same way and have even been a commercial success because of it. I talked about it last year in this post, about feeling seen through literature. Seen, to some extent in a superficial way, because as much as I admire the likes of Dorothy Dunnett and Jane Austen, I'm always going to have that little gremlin streak that cackles, "Yeah, but then, what if he cuts his head off? Ha!" 

But in a more substantive sense, it's about feeling that kinship because it's my belief that in order to have the maximum payoff for a story, all those details and subplots are necessary. Vignettes that might seem indulgent or meaningless upon reading are in fact building up and layering the characterization so that, at the end, the reader sees the complete picture. 

Here's a for instance from my own work, using King's Cadillac metaphor. I'm going to go ahead and spoil part of the Drakes because I'm not sure it'll matter. One scathing review said that time was "wasted on NPC" characters Connor and Reggie, "petting dragons" and "porn." Reggie has significant PTSD from his trials at the hands of the Sels. He apes the lordly commander, but internally, he's shattered. He's working through some of that, working on healing, through sex. Petting the dragons is showing his slowly growing bond with them - not magical, but merely man and animal, a building of trust. Reggie's going to ride a dragon, and it's going to be important to the plot. And his relationship with Connor is the thing that gives him the courage to do so. But, sure. I wasted a bunch of time there. Like I said: I'm not sure there's enough patience to wait for that series to develop. 

Like with King's "loser" version of Hansel & Gretel, pictured above: Did you learn the pertinent information? Sure. Why not tell all stories that way? Why not just say "people meet, they banter, they fall in love, they fight the bad guys, the end?" 

I guess after doing this whole writing thing for fourteen years, I'd hoped to have been allowed a little grace and a little time to work things out on my own. A little trust that we'll get there in the end. You guys who've been reading along with LHM in installment form have been the best, most encouraging cheerleaders, but I'm already dreading the response to the complete novel as a whole once it's out in the wild. I'm tugging my collar like Rodney Dangerfield about it - but that won't change my approach. $50 says "this could/should have been 200 pages shorter" is right up there at the top. 

I just get frustrated sometimes, is all. It'll pass. It always does. 

(Also, holy crap, fourteen years??? I hadn't counted in a while. Yikes.)