I now has a sad. A self inflicted sad none the less, because a cool idea that I had now is probably unpublishable because… It’s a derivative work, and the work I’m coming off is not in public domain for another, oh I dunno… thirty years or so?
Okay, so I got inspired to do an adaptation of “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” by transposing it into my fantasy setting. Love the movie, think it’s a masterpiece (You know they REALLY drink a lot in that. I don’t know how Brick didn’t have catastrophic liver failure during the party, holy crap dood!). Better than the written play IMHO, which is rare, but then again, my opinion. Could be that I just love watching Paul Newman, Burl Ives and of course, Elizabeth Taylor.
So now I’m stuck, half way written, downloaded Scrivener and need to finish to get the full half off discount but I find myself lacking all desire to continue because I don’t wanna no mo! And I can’t legally share it.
Well… that’s not entirely true.
I suppose I could try to find out what the cost would be for getting the rights for adaptation, but I doubt that will be affordable. I know what I really need to do.
Power through, get it done as fast as I can, get the discount and then shelve this bad boy and let it sit in the drawer for 30 years till it is able to be public domain and I can use it. Yayyyyy my first ‘lost work’! And my career’s not really started yet.
Live and learn I guess.
Five days in, and binge writing is still the order of the day.
I discovered quickly I cannot dictate. My mind just refuses… REBELS even… at speaking out in prose. I need my fingers. But I have decided to use Google Docs for a little, to see how well this will work. And I’ve downloaded Scrivener to transfer my work to… ultimately.
So here’s how it sits:
…and rising. I’m not done for the day till I get closer to my goal of 10k.
What I am finding odd is that since this is an adaptation, I’m going back pretty regularly to the source material to go over it as I write. This is slowing me down a lot more than expected, but it’s nice to see it flow none the less.
Yep, late last night between tables of drunk Halloween revelers a few of us gathered to have pie, coffee, talk and write, and I kicked off with 2245 of a first draft. Here’s the first page of the first draft to tease.
“The Price of Mendacity”
An Akiniwazi novella
The sweet cool burn of alcohol washed down Von’s throat, cheers from years gone by rang in his mind. Under his bare feet, the wood of the dock was worn smooth by years of use. It was comforting. Its solid cool indifference to his presence was gratifying, and soothed the roil of his conscience. The last droplets drained from the stone jug resting in the hook of his arm as he finished off the drink. Empty, he let it fell with careless ease to the dock. It bounced once and rolled over the side and into the pond with a hollow splash.
Von ran his unsteady hand through his damp blond hair that stretched down between his shoulderblades. His scruffy unkempt beard reeked of beer and mead and even some Aquavit from the hours of drinking alone. His trousers muddy from various trips and falls as he made on his way out to the Fotrishkode festival grounds. The sky above was filled with the green, blue, and yellow feathers of the Aurora Borealis which spun and turn, eclipsing all the stars that could be seen on the warm spring evening. Below his feet, the ripples of the dropped jug spread across the glass smooth pond, making the swirling light from above smoothly ripple. It was magical.
He stood for a time he could not determine staring at the wonders of nature. The sky and water mirror images, separated by the hard black frame of tall pines and birch, thick with new leaves and high with the scents of early summer. The crickets sang and the frogs trumpeted from every side, silent on for a moment as the ripples passed.
Von stood alone, swaying to the music of the glorious night.