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First entry

Today, creating a journal to work through my writing ideas. I want to write something like I've never read, and that can be difficult. In procrastinating I have been exploring much of the web and visiting the home pages of authors, etc. that I enjoy. I find nothing better sometimes than to read someone else's story, see how they got to where they are, and then dream up how I'm going to get to where I want to be.

Right now I call what I am trying to write "gothic fantasy." I created one which crashed and burned, then had ideas for another, but I have a main character and no plot, likewise in the aformentioned story, a plot and no good characters.

When creating fantasy, it seems most logical to start out with a "world." Before proceeding, you must create the world and the parameters within it in order to visualize the story. In my work "Dark Angel" (which has crashed and burned) I created a post-apocalyptic earth, and that continued to bother me. It seems that I want no limits, and it's difficult to justify angels and werewolves on Earth as I know it, even if it is a post-apocalyptic Earth.

In my RPG I have had no difficulty in achieving a "world" but when 28 other people are helping me it doesn't seem so difficult. When I sit down on my own, the world dissolves into nothing. It dissolves even faster when I start to apply real characters to it. The best solution at first seemed to be to read every single futuristic romance under the sun (I have already read every gothic romance written). I have put this idea into action but I don't feel content to merely read.

Too I want to write. Write what? I don't even know. I'm trying to write a feeling, a weight on my chest when I remember something, something I taste in my mouth when I hear a certain song. A writer can put that into words. An even more discouraging thought for me.

I have concluded that history isn't for me. I'm profoundly uninterested in British history, somewhat interested in American history, but have gotten about all I can take from it, and the rest of the world seems so far away that to write about it would seem pretentious. In fact writing about any of it seems pretentious. Why should I bore myself with history books only to litter my romances with facts to make them sound credible, to prevent them from being "costume dramas?"

Hell, costume and drama are the best part of historical romance. I find myself turning to futuristic and fantasy in favor of a world I can create and control, with the comforting feeling that no one will naysay my political climate or criticize inaccuracies in my undergarments. This much considered, I feel overwhelmed by the freedom I suddenly possess when I realize I can write about anything, anything at all.

My first impulse was to create a meaningful political regime and a social critique. I can't remember what that three pages was called, but when I realized it sounded just like "The Time Machine" I quit. That was when I realized that all of the futuristic books I've read are "Brave New World" and a few futuristic romances, in addition to the influence I've garnered from classic science fiction movies.

Fantasy offers the atmosphere I crave, but medieval fantasy implies a primitive society. My ideal lies somewhat between the two, somewhere near Star Wars Ep. II Attack of the Clones (whoever thought I would admit that?). Did Tolkein invent fantasy? He created something profound. He worked for years to create a complex society so real that it saved future fantasy authors from a lot of work, merely borrowing on the fantasy world he founded.

Of course this idea is repugnant to me. My favorite authors, Patricia A. McKillip and Robin McKinley may borrow something from Tolkein whether they like it or not, but I can't. I would prefer to borrow from Charlotte Bronte, and take the gothic to a world far removed from the windswept moors.

My world is windswept, starry-skied, dark, smooth, like moors, sinister like technology and fey like fantasy. I combine elements from ancient Greece, the sophistication and dignity of the republic, the fallen glory of ancient ruins, skies alien as my own, wind chilling as my own.

My protagonists are female, intelligent, seeking, passionate and headstrong. Their lovers are their equals, dark, ambiguous and complicated. Their enemies are anything and anyone.

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