Saturday, 23 December 2017

Not working ... What do normal peole in books ever even talk about?!

I've been trying trying trying to write a various perspectives version of a story, trying trying trying to write it light at first, as if ‘her side, his side, truth’ kinda material, or ‘slow, fast, fastest…’ The problem is world building and character arches for people I’ve never touched upon.
Namely, whether it’s crime or romance or whatever, when you are writing a NORMAL book/story, creating the characters and the world is the worst. Rules for NORMAL fiction are the worst. The leads have to have some entirely generic, Anglosaxon names like Greg and Claire or Luke and Samantha …… ffs. The lore has to be linear, they must be very normal people whose relatable world changes because of external event. I’m not saying I can’t write like that (to take a breather off Goose over the holidays), but I got fucking bored three lines in!

Here’s a ‘romance’ version of the events example. First line.

Kyle and Gracie clicked like Legos the moment their eyes met. And not in a tiny room of an empty café or something like that either, no: across the field of a summer festival arrangements, a field the size of a landing strip.  Just one of those moments, two mayflies colliding in the sky. 108 people had already been busy setting up the site between them. Kyle, a tall, dark haired with decent leadership skills was over-seeing construction of a small stage, while Gracie’s bus has only just arrived and her and her ensemble of dance, music, art and stage instructors poured out onto the lawn greeting, cheering and hugging everybody, as entertainment people tend to do (you never know who’s future audience.) Even a few hours later, when groundworks has somewhat quieted down and friends could mix or be made anew, they gravitated towards one another through the forest of other people.

                Sam, a long-time friend of Gracie’s and Kyle’s kindergarten schoolmate from before they moved, introduced them, which inspired Gracie to try and make a social joke – none of which have so far come out sounding as cool as everyone had hoped. “Your name is really Kyle?” she grinned.

                “My dear,” replied Kyle in a tone too condescending to be real, sipping the last of his soda, entertaining their circle with the performance, “my name is Kyleroy James Atherton the Fourth.”

                People, not just Gracie, paused before bursting into laughter. “You’re joking.”

                “I joke you not.”

                “Are you really rich or something?” asked Marie, another friend of Gracie’s.

                “You would think so, wouldn’t you? My grandfather had the same idea. He named my dad Kyleroy James Atherton the Third in a calculated attempt to make him sound important, because gran really really wanted dad to make it big and we'd all be rich. When dad didn’t prove to be so very up to schools he was shoved into, the tradition passed onto me. My father has no spine, he caved when gran insisted. Mum did all kinds of yoga so I'd be a girl. Then I would have been called Lucy.”

                Embarrassed, people giggled and chuckled and Sam man-hugged Kyle with one arm, shaking him. “Good story, man. Tragic, but also kinda funny.”

                “Lucy’s a beautiful name,” said Gracie.

                “Alas, her prayers weren’t answered. So ye. I’m Kyle. Pleasure to meet you,” and in the final mockery of his grandfather’s desire for riches, he took Gracie’s hand and kissed the knuckles, making everyone laugh, except the girls who were themselves slightly interested in receiving such a show, and Gracie, who blushed and imagined him naked, so, technically, just Sam and two other roadies for the band who hung out with Kyle, because he looked closer like a rock star than any of the other band members combined.

                And that is how this story begins.

Kill me now. It’s like riding a race horse with their legs tied up.
I’m veering back to the three-sided story I can use in Goose, where the characters are all crazy to begin with and there’s no cap on sex, violence or additional crazy. That’s where I feel home.