Okay, this is a followup to my “X vs. Y” posts here and here.
Utilizing a complex and technically inexplicable process of metamagical pseudoepistemological retrocognition, I have determined the optimum collection of archetypes to set against each other.
Still not entirely sure how this is going to work (c.f. Fauxpocalypse, Step One: Jump, Step Two: Build parachute) but I do want to put this out there. I’m thinking that what I want to do is collect a group of authors first and then
put them in the choakey with the spiders send out assignments with a totally arbitrary and unfair time limit to construct a story. (I’m thinking thirty days.)
If this looks like the kind of full throttle bonedaddy-bugfuck madness that you’d like to be involved in, send me a message via the ever-popular contact form. I will add you to the soon to be constructed Secret Project V e-mail list.
A moment of gravity within my Swiftian hilarity–I believe that art is the birthright of all human beings. We are born to trouble as the sparks fly upwards and there is little that we can call our own, there is work, there is death, there is the brutal love of a toothless child, and there is art. These are the things that you must never ask permission for.
There is no requirement for contributors save being human. If you are a pod person from Alpha Centari, I can’t help you. You might consider writing for the Huffington Post. But if you have red blood and a heart (one to a customer, sorry Timelords) to pump it, you qualify. There will be a time when you go from wanting to be a writer to being a writer, and this is as good a time as any.
Now where the Hell was I? Oh, yes, the archetypes.
Angel: What could be better than doing good? Of course, doing good means that you know what is good, and clearly those who are doing something else must not be really good, no matter what they think.
Pirate: Fortune favors the bold! Sure, there is risk involved, and, you know, the constant threat of death and dismemberment, but, duh, gold! Plus eye patches are sexy, for sufficiently large values of sexy.
Knight: Might does not make right. Might must be in the service of right. Once you’ve got that square, it’s kick ass and take names.
Zombie: A rut is a grave that never ends, but, that’s okay as long as there’s a steady supply of nice juicy brains. A heedless consistency is the hobgoblin of small yet tasty minds.
Ninja: A lifetime of discipline has given you skills that others can scarcely comprehend. Mostly because they are too busy hanging out at the pool and drinking margaritas. Not that you’re bitter or anything.
Succubus/Incubus: Why worry? Life is good, people are wonderful, and a lot of them will get down and dirty. Why can’t we all be friends? Like, with benefits.
Mystic: Contemplation is the key to comprehension. The innermost eye sees all. Also the innermost eye would really like some tea–do you mind? I just got comfortable.