Pic of the day: When bed things happen to good people. (Screenshot from the anime Mamotte Shugogetten. OK, they don't go much further than this. But it's a nice picture, don't you think?)
More on the novel
By now, my throat is pretty bad. This is normal at this time of NaNoWriMo. I am not sure how much comes from dictating and how much comes from normal autumn colds, or not getting enough sleep. Also the more I pay attention to my throat, the worse it will get, as I will be constantly clearing it.
My hands are keeping up much better than last year, but I can feel the wear on them too, even though I stop when it hurts. So even though the writer's block is fairly rare on this story, I still won't be able to get it anywhere near 50 000 words. But I'm going to get closer than usual, I think.
It is not a story worth dying for, or even get disabled for, anyway. Although I think it may give some food for thought. A magic powered by honesty? I don't think I've quite read that anywhere else, although the magic of Order as described by L.E. Modesitt Jr does have some of it. That one is more "lawful" than "forthright" though.
There are really three themes running through the novel. Perhaps the most obvious is "How would it affect your life if you literally could not lie consciously, or even refuse to answer a question?". The second most important, although the third to be developed, is "Does power corrupt or is it just that only corrupt people seek power?". And finally, though less developed than it could be due to my modesty: "Why do bed things happen to good people?"
I did not mis-spell that last one. It is a pun, meaning how can people just happen to have sex without going out of their way to do so? (Whereas others, as they will not doubt confess to you over the Internet if not in person, go out of their way and still can't get any.) "It just happened" simply doesn't cut it in my book. It is like saying "I just happened to buy a new car" or "I just happened to dunk the house in paraffin and set it on fire". It's not like one could possibly avoid noticing the whole time what one was doing... or could one?
This is probably the weakest part of my plot, but also the funniest. I find the human preoccupation with sexuality hilarious, even though I share it to some extent.
(No sperm cells were hurt in the production of this novel, though.)
Visit the archive page for the older diaries I've put out to pasture.