World building in something entirely fictional created from the ground-up in your mind is ludicrously difficult by itself, but when you yourself are as disorganized as I am, it becomes downright stressful. Like a chimney that has smoke gushing up through it, but the top is clogged.
That said, when everything actually goes right it becomes so, so worth it.
This world, planet in this instance, that I am attempting to unearth as the setting of my hopefully interesting story is separated into continents, and thus has its own residents and groups according to its areas, though the inhabitants do intermingle greatly of course. This is probably where a little Bionicle influence comes into play. And why not? It was the first world that truly enveloped me and forced my creative powers to skyrocket with such unique, interesting locals and natives. The problem with this is it would be awful useful to have a map of the place, akin to what can be found in any Middle-Earth books. I'll probably have to draw one, even though I can't draw. Maybe later this week if I get the chance.
It's probably going to get a little tiresome hearing me go on about Vessel. There isn't much of it set in stone, and it could be years before I can get it published and it will doubtlessly go through a lot of changes. It may just be able to be independently published online someday. Yeek. I never read full books online, on a screen or anything, so that would be quite ironic. A little bit of a mourning from a tired writer, apologies. On with the creative process. The last paragraph gave me an idea however, so I think that will birth something more substantial in the coming weeks...
Before getting into the meat of this, which will be smaller than originally intentioned (by a long shot, sorry! More of a tasty tidbit to hold over until my other idea comes together soon, very soon...) A dream I once had was for books I loved to come with soundtracks inspired by the story & world. Imagine reading The Magician's Nephew and getting a short disc with some beautiful scores to suit the moods. Vessel is sort of going in reverse with that, music inspires a good bit of the tone and creative juices within it. I'll make a playlist containing some of that, if anyone is curious. (There is going to be a lot of Starset.)
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~ Galen's eyes slowly fluttered open, alighting on the stone cave ceiling. He sat up with a start, and instantly regretted it as pain engulfed his back. With a wince he laid himself back down slowly, trying to remember how he'd lost consciousness. He swiveled his head to the right without pain.
Good, I can still move my head. It was then he noticed the pile of rubble several feet from where he lay. The cave in... too many charges... must have ignited the vein. He wasn't aware that the Substance was flammable. But then, he was new to the job. Why wouldn't the other, more experienced workers warn him of the danger? As he pondered this he realized the room should have been plunged into darkness if it wasn't for the various Substance veins still present in the rock formations surrounding him. If it wasn't for that ominous, bluish-green light he would probably think himself dead or in some empty afterlife. Neither seemed too bad compared to his current situation. He was trapped in a small pocket of a vast cavern, likely cut off from fresh air sources, practically paralyzed due likely injuries in his spine. I'll have to force myself up eventually, he painfully lifted his arm to swab his sweaty forehead and disheveled black hair, One bit of pain at a time. It took all of his energy to muster the strength to push through the pain of lifting his arm. How much harder would it be to stand, let alone walk? A liquid began to leak into his eyes and burn, with a grunt he wiped it from his eyes to see it was blood. His hand was badly cut in multiple places from the cave-in and had rubbed off on his face without him realizing. I guess add blood infection to the list of problems, heh.
He lied there for another 10 minutes in silence, eye closed, knowing he needed time to attempt to stand. He ached, the air cramped and stale (dust still drifting about the air from the rockslide) and the only sound being a soft, steady dripping sound from somewhere in the room. Where is that come from? Galen finally asked himself after the sound got too repetitive for him to stand any longer. He tilted his head toward the sound and noticed one of the Substance's veins was penetrated, dripping its strange essence onto the cave floor. I guess I could add that to my work quota... if that was ever going to matter anymore. And who knows? Maybe they'll notice I'm gone, come back for me. No, there's too many workers, too little supervisors, much less any that actually care about us breaking our backs down here. He chuckled at the 'breaking his back' saying, such irony that it actually may have occurred. The Substance continued its trickle and drop routine without break, echoing through the dank prison Galen knew would almost certainly be his tomb. ~
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(Apologies for typos)
Godbless,
~ Tanner.
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